There is stuff to be said. There is a post within me, but right now, I can't put the words down just right. There is a lot of pain, and very little else.

To be, or not to be...

***Warning: Not a Happy Post - You have been warned!***

The other night I received an email from a girlfriend who is suffering from a recurring bout of depression, and essentially, a generally malaise about her life at the moment. When one sees, or hears of, a friend in pain, it is one's first reaction to try and provide some sort of consolation to them. But as I read her email, it resonated all too much with how I have been feeling of late. How does one give advice to cheer up a friend, when one's own reserves of cheeriness are depleted? I fear I didn't give her positive words, but maybe, just a rehashing of my problems that mirror her own. When one is feeling down and morose, thoughts turn inward and my selfishness comes to the fore.

My thoughts, which were similar to hers, were simple. Why does noone seem to want the love that I have to give? I know I can love completely, but why does the universe seem immune to giving the chance to prove this? I can be witty, and interesting, and sexy, and many other things beside, that surely would count in my favour as a "catch". But no. I am not. I remain uncaught. I have complained in the past that I felt that I was destined to be one of "those" women. The ones that noone can understand why they are alone, but they are. They spend their lives in solitude, citing reasons of career, or dissatisfaction with the people around them. But deep down, they know that maybe the reasons are maybe just themselves.

Therapy sessions, anti-depressants, Bush flower remedies, homeopathic consultations, hobbies, internet dating, speed dating, blind dating, gyms, dancing, work.... All these things and more I have tried in vain to alleviate the pain and emptiness that follows me constantly. What more can I do? Nothing I fear. I want to go off the anti-depressants, only because it seems they are doing little, so I may as well feel worse and be unmedicated, with the hope that one day I will feel better. And if I don't feel better? Then maybe it is time for other measures.

A while ago, a friend stated that he felt that the age of 30 was enough for him. I think he felt that no more was to be gained in living longer than this, especially if it meant living alone. At the time, I berated him for feeling this way. He is a wonderful person, and I couldn't imagine him being alone for the rest of his life. It seemed so silly for him to declare 30 the end of a useful life. But as I stare down another up-coming birthday, I must admit, that I too can feel no point in it. Another birthday, another reminder that youth is behind me, and more and more opportunities have closed for me. As so many of my friends around me are moving forward happily, with relationships, or with careers, I feel less and less joy in the things around me.

How many more movies and operas can I see to fill up empty hours? How many more books can I read and discuss to find some purpose in the next day? And that, my friends, is the point. I don't know any more. Another year lies ahead of me with choral concerts, tap shows, books to be read, operas to see and work to be done. And I don't care.

I need a reason to continue, and I know that this reason has to come from within me. But within me is a void, capable only of the barest functionality as a person. I need to be needed and wanted to want to go on. I want to be the one true love for someone. If I wasn't around, I know that people would go on - noone is indispensable.


To die, to sleep —
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.

Things not to do when you feel sad and lonely

I have terrible mood swings. Ok, this is a no-brainer for those that know me. And maybe even for those that only read this blog, you may have discerned a certain pendulum-esque type nature to my entries, and hence, my moods.

Well, Bond and I had a phone call the other day where I was berated somewhat for a couple of my actions. As a result, I probably had what is best described as a hissy fit. Of course, he is completely unaware of said fit, but no matter. I threw the fit, and again, plunged myself into an internal monologue of questions without answers - or at least answers I don't want to entertain. Classic ones that surface time and time are "Why am I doing this?", "He doesn't love me - it is plain to see - so why do I continue? Why does he continue?" and "I just need to see him - does he want to see me?". Yes, I know. Beyond pathetic - but this is who I am.

So, can I tell you the worst possible thing to do when one's unsatisfying long-distance relationship is giving you the shits, and you are questioning everything in your life - is to go and see a movie where all the long-distance relationships just work out peachy and there is a happy ending! On Saturday, I went to the movies by myself to see "The Holiday". Surely a rom-com is meant to alleviate a poor mood and fill one with a sense of levity and love for all humankind? Fuck, no. I was highly disappointed in this pap where Jude Law, himself a philandering father, is meant to be not only the handsome, successful and intelligent book editor, but the touching widower and father of two, who is learning to sew in his spare time for the kid's tutus. Then there is Jack Black who is the sensitive composer, whose love of music is more poignant when contrasted with his poor track record with undeserving women. Oh yes, both men are SNAGS and caring, and gentle and loving. Both don't have trouble expressing their emotions and both meet women with whom they bond instantaneously, and drop everything to spend just a few precious days with these women.

Yeah. Right.

The only "real" part of the movie for me is when Cameron Diaz relates all the ways that a long distance relationship will slowly go down the toilet. The kicker is the line where she says that they would break up and "never ever have to see each other again". With Bond on the other side of world, it is a truism, that if I decide to stop this nonsense, I will never see him again. Shouldn't that be a good thing, knowing that I will never "accidentally" bump into him out with a new woman? Never have to worry about bumping into him when I am looking less than glamorous, which is what inevitably happens when one bumps into an ex. But no, I just think, I will never see him again. And that, my friends, is what makes me sad. Every single day.

Holiday Options

I am all confusion. I need a holiday. Badly. But I don't know what to do, where to go, or when. Realistically, in answer to those questions I could easily say; not work, anywhere but here, and as soon as possible. Clearly these are not particularly helpful to either myself or any travel professional trying to aid me in my quest for escape.

I have never had problems with holidaying by myself. In fact, I have often quite enjoyed it since there is no problem with having to do something you don't want to do, just to make a travel companion happy. You can live by your own timetable, and do as little, or as much as you see fit. My problem this time is that I don't want to have to spend yet another holiday alone.

I thought then of a tour group option. My lazy brain was attracted to the thought of not having to think about what to do, since it is all planned for you. I have never done a tour group before, and it could easily work as a means to an ends in this instance. Sadly, in approximately three weeks, I will no longer be eligible to travel on Contiki tours, and will be relegated to sad, old-people tours, probably filled with old married couples. So that idea is really no good at all.

I thought about maybe entertaining the idea of an activity based holiday. Cooking in Vietnam, or learning a language somewhere. But somehow, the options available didn't inspire me so much to overcome the over-priced cost.

My best option so far is a health retreat, where I can wander between organised activities, and spa treatments, or laze and read a book. All with catered meals and the chance to maybe get fitter, healthier and leaner thrown into the bargain. But somehow this is still coming up as not quite right for the mood I am in.

So, I ask you, any suggestions for a single, bored and lonely woman for holiday ideas that will not make me feel anymore single, bored and lonely?

I sit here comfortably chatting online and sipping a cup of tea. But the thought upper-most in my head this evening is whether it is wrong, either morally or socially, to drink "English Breakfast" Tea after midday.

Nice to not have my mind racing too much about other things for a change isn't it?

Unorganised - but certainly prepared!

In the spirit of the New Year, and all that trollop, I have spent the last couple of days purchasing a few items to reorganise my life. I have acquired new storage boxes, new hanging arrangements andnaffy containers for all manner of crap. So in an effort to implement good karma, and organisation in to my life, this afternoon I began to clean out a cupboard. I decided it was time to seriously cull the handbags I own (I have handbag issues), and get rid of all those bags that I seriously will no longer use.

Heads up advice for those thinking what to get me for my up-coming birthday - DO NOT BUY ME A HANDBAG! Invariably other people's taste is different to my own. I will have to pretend I like it, keep it in my cupboard for the requisite year or two, until I finally give it away with a slightly guilty conscience. Save us all the pain - give me cash instead.

I started by assembling all the handbags on my bed. Yes, they covered the whole bed. Then I went through each of them, cleaning them out for whatever rubbish remained inside, before throwing to the chuck-out pile, or returning to its new neat location.

I present to you now my list of reclaimed items from my handbags - in no particular order.
(i) 25cents - in 5 and 10c pieces
(ii) One lipgloss
(iii) Five tampons
(iv) Four "sheets" of headache tablets, naprogesic and cold and flu tablets
(v) One comb
(vi) One set of headphones
(vii) Three packets of Listerine Pocketpack breath mint strips
(viii) Two highlighters
(ix) One Moleskine notebook (with a list in the back of all the men I have slept with -!?!)
(x) Three jellybeans
(xi) One pencil and one pen
(xii) Three Band-Aids
(xiii) One vial of Insulin and four needles (I am diabetic)
and, finally,
(xiv) Six condoms!

I am no girl scout, but one can honestly say, I seem to be prepared for just about anything.

Another year over...

And so the Christmas and New Year season has passed once again. Despite my former big plans for this time of year, my festive activities were generally quiet. Rob and I, with his mother and partner (affectionately termed "Team Crazy"), enjoyed a relaxed lunch and a few episodes of "Buffy". I received a few lovely text messages from friends, and overall the day passed into memory with no major disruptions.

My New Year celebrations were just as simple. A few drinks and conversation, along with some bad dancing with drunken friends, was the sum total of my revelling. Of course, on both occasions, I was all parts melancholy and joy. Melancholic thinking of who I wanted to be with, and wondering if I figured in his thoughts at all. Joyful, knowing that despite all, I have some of the most wonderful friends one could imagine.

I also took time out over this period to visit some friends in my former home town of Brisbane. The odd thing about going back to Brisbane, is that it is the only town that I know that seems to get younger with progressing years. Buildings that I remember fondly have been torn down and replaced, or refurbished beyond recognition. I can narrate my tours around Brisbane with memories of things done in each location, but as time goes on, and less of my formative years remain intact, I feel more and more detached. Maybe my loneliness of late has transfigured to feel like a lack of belonging. Nothing, except for a few select friends and family, connects me with Brisbane anymore. Sadly, I feel little in Melbourne connects me here either. Maybe because my heart is elsewhere, wondering what the future holds.

I know that time is running out for this heart of mine. I want so much for some resolution of what is happening with Bond. Lately I have felt even less affection from him. It could be my imagination. The fact that he never felt the need to send me something for either Christmas, or even for the disappointment I felt, saddens me so much. But what do I do? Clearly I have no idea, as I continue to bumble along in this quasi-relationship, where the future is uncertain and the present is unsatisfactory. I deserve more than feeling second best, and unloved. But am I brave enough to make the call and say goodbye? Do I forget this amazing man on the other side of the world, and move forward alone, again? I think it is patently obvious that I am also trying to avoid a decision.

Anyway, all of that said, I have already started things for the New Year for a life change. As much as I would not like to call them resolutions - I despise the concept of New Year Resolutions - they tend to be along those lines. This year, I would like to pull my finger out financially and get in control again. The first of these things is to get my tax return in before my accountant starts yelling at me - and yes, I know, it was due in October last year. I have started eating healthier as of January 1 - one can always do to shift a kilogram or two. Plus, I have put in motion efforts to expand my household in the near future.

So, let the Universe conspire in my favour and bring my love, friendship and fortune in 2007!