I’m back! Did you all miss my witty words and musings?

2023 was a year of ups and downs but as the year comes to a close I do so content within. Sadly this was not always the case. I had some of my lowest moments that came close to breaking me. I look back now and think ‘oh lord the drama I created in my head’, yet at the time it was so real. I always knew I’d come out the other side but geez the struggle is real. Thanks to my amazing family and friends for just being there and holding space for me whilst I clawed my way back.

The content that I now sit with came back when I started looking after myself and getting back to doing what makes me happy, and putting me first. When you’re alone you try to fit in with those around you almost to the point of losing yourself in the process. You can still be lonely and alone even when surrounded by people so when the lightbulb suddenly lit up I knew I needed to make changes for myself. I needed to stop stressing about things I could not change and focus on what I could do. A whole lot easier said than done! I got the old toolbox out and got started.

First off I went back to meditation classes and surrounded myself with people who just got me even without me saying a word. People I don’t even know but who’s energy I could draw from. I went to a Rest and Restore Retreat where I spent a great deal of time being miserable. I was so tired and stressed and could cry at the drop of a hat; and I’m not a crier but clearly menopause has made me into one. Ladies I know you hear me.  By the time I left that retreat I was not healed but I had what I needed to get myself back on track.

It is in the darkest skies that we see the brightest stars. I have many bright stars in my life that I just wasn’t seeing as brightly and quite frankly just didn’t have the energy for. Lack of sleep can do that to you yet there were so many highlights of 2023.

My land titled in March and the slab was poured in October with lock up stage seeing the year out.

I travelled to Sydney and caught up with one of my oldest friends, we all need one of those friends and I’m lucky enough to have one of the best. There’s nothing like knowing someone so long that the years just disappear when you catch up. I also have one of those friends right here, I am doubly blessed.

I joined the SES. It challenges me and teaches me and is so rewarding.

I bought a swag and went camping again for the first time in years, it’s the little things.

Sadly we lost my father-in-law in July. This time of sadness was a reminder that we need to hold those dear to us close. When you are young you don’t see an end but with each that passes we all get closer to leaving. I am blessed to still have my ex-husband’s family as my second family and where I will always feel at home.

My son proposed to his girlfriend and she said YES. The best news ever!

I cannot express the emotions I went through watching my Blueboys make it all the way to the Preliminary Final in 2023, and I was lucky enough to be there for the first two finals where I saw some of the best football Carlton has played. I will admit my heart stopped a couple of times and tears of joy were shed. It was almost a relief when they lost the Prelim as I’m not sure my heart could have taken any more stress if we were to make it to the big dance. First the lead up and then the game itself. It’s been 28 long years in the wilderness (29 this year).

I have also had the joy of being a grandma for a whole entire year. It is such a joy to watch her grow and learn, everything is so new and fascinating. You just can’t be sad around such innocence and happiness.

I’ve spent the past week cleaning out photos and memorabilia, what a trip down memory lane. The friends I’ve made along the way, the fun we’ve had, and getting to 55 mostly unscathed. Here’s to many more years and memories with friends old and new.

I finish 2023 finally content with myself and my life for the first time in years. It took a long time for me to recover from the loneliness, aloneness and darkness that enveloped many of us for a good couple of years. I struggled to figure out what was wrong with me but our normal way of life had shifted and it felt like I’d been left behind.

I recently read somewhere that we should do something every day that makes you happy and that’s what I’m going to do and if I fall down, I’ll try and get up a whole lot quicker than before. I’m going to write, sew, walk, read, listen to music and not just as background noise, meditate, practice and teach yoga and most of all live and love to the best of my ability.

Here’s to onward and upward in 2024. Cheers!

Suzi xx

The thief in the night that stole my sanity. I was going to say youth but that was taken from me years ago.

Like a thief in the night, silent, with stealth and cunning, slowly creeping in; you go to bed as a normal person (well as normal as you can be) and you wake up a completely different person. You no longer remember what normal was, let alone is; sanity has been stolen right from under our noses.

The thief has a name; and it’s peri-menopause (from hereon in referred to as PM). It is a sneaky piece of work and is nobody’s friend. I saw a great quote the other day ‘I used to have a handle on life but it broke off when I started menopause’.

PM took my sleep from me. Not the world’s best sleeper to begin with but what little sleep I had been previously getting was now gone completely. I was constantly tired but when I went to bed I just couldn’t sleep. The main reason for that was that PM also stole my cooling system. Hot flushes at night they say! I was a walking, talking sauna 24/7. I could go to the footy in the middle of winter in jeans and t-shirt and still be uncomfortably warm. The heat and lack of sleep was what finally did my head in and drove me to drugs – take a chill pill, I mean the HRT version.

PM also took my naturally blonde hair. Correction, taken was my blonde hair that hasn’t been completely natural since 1986. PM came as a thief in the night and took my natural fair hair, randomly placing strands of grey throughout. It is now a drier, more brittle version of what it once was, leaving more hair on the bathroom floor and on my clothing than on my head. And do not even start me on the facial hair anomalies!

Sometime overnight my waist was also taken. Whilst it was not in top shape when it was stolen, it was still a waist. I went to bed with a 2 pack (the other 4 were always hidden underneath somewhere). But when I woke up the 2 were also gone, and I don’t think they’re hiding underneath! I’ve been robbed, I tell you!.

PM came in and took all of my precious oils, causing my skin to start wrinkling almost immediately. I’m not talking laugh line wrinkles, I’m talking saggy skin wrinkles! Gone is the lovely shade of pale, with a fine sprinkling of freckles that I once had. Left in its place is a somewhat mottled (when I’m cold), ruddier complexion (because I’m always hot) and skin that is looser (this will make sense to those that know what I’m talking about). I am so envious of young people and their flawless, smooth skin. My tattoos no longer look as awesome as they once used to now that the canvas they were printed on has gone to ruin lol.

And where the F is my memory? Some days I feel like I don’t have a clue what’s going on. I have become very vague of late. No idea where I’d put my glasses (if I’m being honest that’s been going on for years lol) or why I’d try and put tea bags in the fridge or sugar in the microwave. Most days I cannot remember what I did the previous day. And whilst I have never been good at remembering names, I can’t even remember the faces that go with these names. Not a good thing when you teach yoga and you can’t recall if someone has been to your class before. I thought I was slowly losing my mind yet it seems that PM is the cause of this also and just snuck away with my memory while I was trying to sleep. Geez, I only had 2 kids but what were their names again and which one is which? Just kidding!

I’m tired of PM getting away with robbery. It’s like the Grinch who stole Xmas, but in this case it’s ‘The Grinch who stole all my shit’. Admittedly most of the good shit was already gone, but it was still my shit that you took!

Everything changes as you age: your skin, your hair, and your body. Your ability to stay out until 2 in the morning has greatly diminished as is your ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol. The body no longer recovers from injury or neglect like it once used to. I’d gotten used to the fact that my body was no longer what it once was. I would be unable to have any more children (like that was never going to happen anyway lol). My boobs no longer sit quite as nicely as they once did (thank goodness for small miracles, they were never that big that they now hang down to my knees). It takes soooo much longer to get over an injury nowadays-even something as minor as a stubbed toe. Just as I was getting used to the newer version of my mid-life body PM changed all the rules and took off with what was left. PM took off like a bull at the gate, I just couldn’t keep up. I should’ve just gone for the kneecaps. The kicker is, this could go on for years (insert sad face and a huge sigh).

It has taken me about a year to get a grip on what was happening. It turns out that theft was not PM’s only skill; I had no clue that insomnia, weight gain, sadness, forgetfulness etc was all a part of the package. PM was a jack of all trades in causing misery. They say this phase of hormone upheaval can last anywhere from 5 – 10 years. Great, I’m only about one tenth of the way through.

Apparently it is not all doom and gloom. According to the experts, this is also the biggest opportunity for personal growth and empowerment since adolescence….well, so they say. Time will tell. And I wonder if that includes the time spent on HRT because that’s what’s currently keeping me sane? Can I become enlightened and empowered on drugs haha? Seriously, I started reading all about estrogen, progesterone and testosterone levels and their ratios to one another blah blah blah, but then just gave it up. There is jack shit we can do to stop PM from creeping into your life so we may as well accept it-with the grace that comes with age, plus my brain just doesn’t have the capability to ingest all of this at the moment. I hope my brain function doesn’t wait until PM has left the building until it returns to normal.

When all is said and done I have fared well over the years when it came to female stuff so I figured this was payback. And the way I see it, I now have a valid excuse for my poor decisions.

Suzi xx

 

Soundtrack of my life.

Music is my happy place. It has been a constant throughout my life; expressing my feelings and emotions and bringing back memories of times past, all without me having to utter a single word.

Putting together my playlist for my fiftieth birthday I have spent many hours reminiscing as I put events and people together. I can name a song from just about every event in my life; the soundtrack of my life as I like to call it. In this time I have progressed from cassettes and vinyl lps to CDs, and from the Walkman to the iPod. My go tos now are Spotify and the good old iPhone; literally providing my choice of music at any time and place.

Who can forget the good old mixed tape? Sitting next to the radio/tape recorder with your finger held above the record and play buttons. You had to get the timing just right, otherwise you’d miss the start of the song or you’d have too much dead air between songs. God forbid if you had to sit there and wait for the song to come on again because you stuffed it up the first time. We have come a long way since then. Thanks goodness-there is nothing worse than spending all that time making the perfect playlist and your car stereo chews the tape up in less than 5 seconds!

I just love love love music and have been to many concerts and live shows over the years. Some stand out more than others.

• Wham, my first ever concert.
• I took my, in utero, first born to AC/DC. I spent half (okay maybe just a quarter) of the time worried that the music was too loud for my unborn baby.
• And then there was the time my friend and I went to see Bon Jovi and we were convinced that the man himself could see us from way up on stage. We waited until the spotlight came back to us, stood on our chairs and flashed the puppies. Didn’t really think it through beforehand, otherwise we wouldn’t have worn our shitty bras lol. Not a moment I should be proud of but sadly I am.
• One of my all time highlights was Guns n Roses at Calder Park in 1993. It was like 40 degrees, waiting for hours to get into the venue, charging $5 for a bottle of water while you wait and then couldn’t take in. The toilet and food queues inside were just as long…..And then the skies opened up. It went from 40 degrees to 20 in a matter of minutes. By the time Guns n Roses came on stage-late as usual, we were soaked to the bone and also muddy. None of that mattered though because the Gunnas were awesome; it all made for an unforgettable show, as did the long walk to Diggers Rest before we scored a ride home.

I could write an entire book on my thoughts and memories around music, and I’ve only shared a small portion here, but but I think I’ve said enough for now. Because I really need to get back to culling my 50^th playlist-which currently stands at over 6 hours-perhaps because I keep adding ‘just one more’.

I’ll leave you all with one of my favourite tunes of all. Hopefully I get to hear it a whole lot more this year. Da da da da dah, we are the navy blues!

Suzi xx

Have you ever considered buying time, and what the cost would be?

You can buy water, you can buy a handbag, you buy yoga classes; you can literally buy anything you want these days, yet we rarely think about buying time. We rarely give any thought to the cost involved when it comes to something tangible but what about time that can’t really be quantified? There are websites offering numerous articles on how to work out what your time is worth in terms of dollars, what about the time that can’t be calculated in dollars.

Yesterday I bought some time. It wasn’t free, but the cost was small for what I got in return.

And with that time I just lay on my bed, the window was wide open and I just lay there feeling the breeze, listening to the leaves rustling and the occasional bird chirping; I read my book and listened to music. The cost to buy this time? I missed a couple of texts, my washing and cooking had to wait until today as did my yoga class prep. It also cost me a little guilt; guilt that I was lying there doing nothing when I had all this work to do. I mean I had a whole weeks worth of yoga classes to write up as well as catching up on all the housework that gets neglected during the long work week. When you sit back and think about it, most of us have been working for over half of our lives and then coming home to housework and/or family stuff. Seriously, what difference would it make if you took a few hours out of that equation and just gave them to yourself?

There’s always going to be an endless list of chores to complete and work to do. We put off sleeping in, or going for a long walk, or reading by the window, even sitting down to a leisurely breakfast with loved ones—and, even if we do manage time away from the grind, it comes with a looming awareness of the things we should be doing, and so the experience is weighed down by guilt.

Learning to say no and close that particular door for a period of time, on Saturday afternoon, bought oxygen and space to my soul. Today as I do everything I didn’t do yesterday I’m not half as stressed even though I have less time to do it all. I gave myself the gift of time, with no strings attached. This act of kindness towards myself has been paid back to me in spades. And the kicker…I had the best nights sleep I had in a long time. I am, and have always been, a terrible sleeper but I think letting go of the guilt and just enjoying doing nothing without the something at the end helped. (By that I mean that generally everything we do is always for a reason, rarely just because). When you take a break and buy yourself some time it can literally breathe the life back into you.

It doesn’t need to be a lot of time, even five minutes will breathe new life into the body and soul.

I used to think that doing nothing was wasted time but I now use that time to recharge my batteries. Go ahead, buy some time. I don’t think you’ll regret buying the time to do nothing, or something you really love.

Time is finite; the rest of your life ‘won’t last forever.’

Suzi xx

 

If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.

Lately I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing; saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye signals change, and with change comes uncertainties. It can be really hard to say that single word and then to act upon it. But as I have found out many a time there has always been a hello to great me in return.

As I prepare to say goodbye to my forties I am looking to embrace fifty with a huge bear hug. I am moving forward with some trepidation, I have become melancholy and wish that some things had stayed the same, but also knowing that with every door that closes another one opens. At each stage of life we must say goodbye to something and that is just a given, but there are some things we need to consciously say goodbye to; people, things, habits and ideas.

If I didn’t say goodbye to some relationships I would not have looked back and learned and grown from the mistakes that were made.

If I did not say goodbye to my kids childhoods I would not have seen them grow into the adults they are today. I do still miss holding my babies and watching them sleep but I do not miss those teenage years haha.

If I did not say goodbye to my youth I could not say hello, and embrace, the 20 and 30 year friendships I have made since.

I am currently in the process of saying goodbye to my childbearing years. I just wish my body had done so with a bit more grace and dignity instead of with a constant hot flush. It has been a nightmare and let me tell you this is one goodbye I have no problem saying….or perhaps shouting!

The hardest thing I have had to say goodbye to is the fear I have always carried around my mothers death. It has been 27 years since her passing and 27 years of me thinking that I too would die of cancer. (That could still happen but I have stopped counting the years, and the milestones, and instead am grateful for every day with my loved ones instead of counting them down). Our fate or karma is pre-written and whatever will be will be. I have come to believe that my mum is watching over me (because somebody is). This belief is what has finally helped me say goodbye to my totally irrational fear and to say hello to my new acceptance.

There are still a couple of bad habits I need to say goodbye to but I still get some pleasure from them so I’ll get to them eventually.

It is scary heading off into the unknown. We all love predictable but we need to remember that nothing is life is permanent.

Goodbye
Hello

Suzi xx

 

Recovery & Patience

Recovery is a process. It takes times. It takes patience.

I have just had calf lengthening surgery on the right leg, the same surgery I had 18 months ago on the left leg. Having been through this before you’d think I’d be better prepared. In some ways I was but in others I was totally unprepared. I’d forgotten how boring it could be when you can’t move and have your leg in plaster for 2 weeks. I knew I’d have to rely on other people to do things for me but even though I knew that it was still extremely difficult for me to do. I certainly was not prepared for the cockroach I stood on with my bare foot at 2am in the morning when I went to the loo. That really could have ended in disaster-half asleep and crutches, need I say more? Lucky I’m not squeamish so all ended pretty well, unfortunately not so well for the cockroach haha. I swear these things happen to me just so I have a story to tell.

I actually thought I was not dealing with this as well as I had the first time around but apparently, according to others, I was in fact coping better this time around. Let me tell you though, it has been hard and at times I felt like I was a crazy woman, or maybe just going mad. I knew my situation was temporary but it still affected my headspace to a great extent.

The little patience I have was once again tested. Some days I simply felt like stopping. It was so much effort to just have a shower, brush my teeth or even to make lunch or a cup of tea-so much easier just to have an apple or banana because I could just put them in my pocket. I sometimes felt it was all too much trouble and just wanted to go and lie back down, on the couch, the floor, whatever was closest. The rational part of me knew that if I just kept on going it would be okay and guess what, it was. It doesn’t matter how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop.

I also wasn’t prepared for the frustration and the sometimes extreme emotional reactions due to not being able to do something. I felt like a child having a tantrum. Honestly some days I just wanted to cry even though the normal, thinking part of my brain knew this was only going to last for 2 weeks. I wrote most of this when I still had plaster on and now as I sit here with my moon boot on (and I can move if I want to) and go over what I wrote I cringe at myself and my behavior, even if it was only in my head. If I didn’t right all this down at the time I probably wouldn’t have believed the stories myself or conveniently forgotten some of it to suit me. Mind you my head was a little fuzzy at times, thanks to the anesthesia, so I thought it best not to press the publish button until I had proof read my own words.

To add to my frustrations, impatience and self-pity, I was also feeling quite vulnerable; both physically and emotionally. Having spent my adult life supporting and looking after myself I find it really difficult not being able to do stuff for myself. And then there is always the ‘what if something happens to me’ question (you know what if I trip over and rip open my stitches or knock myself out scenarios…and yes, I watch far too many horror movies but still manage to never have my phone on me just in case). At this juncture however I tend to put my faith in the higher powers. It’s outta my hands and whatever will be, will be.

I still have bruises on my belly from injecting myself with anti clotting stuff, my ankle is bruised and sore from goodness knows what (who knows what they do you while you’re under lol) and I now have matching scars on my calves. (I kid you not they are identical in length and position, that if I didn’t know better I’d say the surgeon cheated and just copied the other leg). The physical scars I carry remind me of how lucky I am; they remind to never take things for granted; even something as simple as making a cup of tea and not having to drag it across the floor with my crutch, while it’s resting on a tea towel-my tried and true method really does work and came through for me one again!

It has really given me to time to pause and reflect. The simple things in life are the best things in life. To be able walk, to vacuum, to check your mailbox, and I do harp on about it but to simply make your own cup of tea!

I do hope that my own mental drama helps someone else in a similar position realise that you’re not alone, and that ‘this too shall pass’. Patience and gratitude to you all.

Suzi xx

I admit it, I love lists. I love making lists and I love crossing things off my list. There are others out there just like me; die-hard list-makers, you know who and what I mean!
For as far back as I can remember I have written lists. Shopping lists, things to do each day, play lists, you name it and it’s probably been on one of my lists at some stage. Even as a child I had lists-I once listed all the states of America….just because. In a strange kind of way, when they have no actual purpose, lists can be fun. A list is only useful if it reveals a truth, solves a problem or leads to action. A list, for instance, will probably not help procrastinators get much done. Normally though, my lists have a purpose. A list brings order to my chaos and helps me to remember things. At the start they give me a sense of purpose and upon completion, satisfaction.
I’m currently in the midst of a few lists. What to organise at work before I am off for 2 weeks, what to get done at home before my op, a list of things to do while I’m sitting on my arse recuperating, and a list for my new daily routine for the next 2 weeks. In the process I have managed to get quite a bit done, stuff that I would probably have put off until ‘I have more time’. The truth is I never have time because I always find something else to do or distract me (on occasion I too am prone to procrastination-I mean, aren’t we all?), hence my need for lists!

Sometimes my lists appear overwhelming, and subsequently I stress about how I will ever get the entire list done-like seriously, how the f am I going to get all this done in my awake hours? yet I always seem to manage. And if I haven’t completed my list of to do things or I’ve forgotten something on my shopping list (which always happens without fail haha) I always just tack the leftovers on to my new list. So I don’t even know why I stress in the first place. Maybe because I’m a control freak and perhaps a little OCD! If you break down a big task into a list of smaller parts, the big task no longer looks overwhelming, so even when it remains uncompleted the huge task at hand has been reduced and looks a lot less daunting. I think that lists can relieve stress and focus the mind because they get to the heart of what it is we need to do to get through another day on this planet.
A list is also a promise. There’s something about making lists that’s pro-active. After all, isn’t making a list the first step in achieving everything on it? Isn’t writing down what needs to be done a statement that you intend to do what’s on it? An honest and well-intentioned list is a promise to your future self, even if that future is just eight hours or a week away. Together, the list and the list-maker work together to get things done. Whether it’s documented on sticky-notes (I always have about 4-in different colours on the go at once at work), on the backs of receipts, in a note pad or daily planner, or on my phone/iPad. And I just love Excel because the lists you can create on there are simply endless, and you can just change the order of your list at any time and even make rules for it. A nerds dream! And let’s not forget the sub list. You know, you’re going on a holiday and you make a list of things to pack. You just need to have sub categories. You can’t have your phone charger in the same list as your toiletries!
Lists can make also you feel better; you can write a list of things that make you happy, grateful, or a holiday list, you name it and I’m sure you can list it. Your list can contain whatever will pick you up when you are feeling low or unmotivated.
In our multitasking world, lists are a line drawn in the sand of insanity. They are a methodical, reasonable, old-fashioned way of getting things done consciously. Lists are a nod to the wisdom of mono-tasking; they’re a way to carve out some mental space to plan, to keep a healthy pace, and really complete a task before moving on to the next.

Suzi xx

 

 

As we say goodbye to 2017, I am once again saying hello to my blog in 2018. I also thought I’d give my thoughts a new name. ‘If you knew Suzi’. How original? Right? haha. I have totally forgotten how to navigate the WordPress website and basically feel as if I’m starting from scratch. So, apologies if anything looks amiss. Oh well, the beginning has always been a good place to start….again.

It has been some time since I have written anything, and I have got to say I have really missed it. It doesn’t matter if anyone reads it or what other people think, it’s my way of expressing my thoughts, trying to sort my way through those thoughts and making myself accountable for any action that will turn my thoughts into the reality I want them to become. It won’t be easy to be candid and truthful but I can’t truly exorcise my personal demons (imagined or real) without being totally honest with myself. And unless I actually say out loud, or share publicly, there is always the chance that I may garnish the truth somewhat (you know you only did 40 crunches instead of 50 but if no-one saw you then it doesn’t count lol). Plus writing is also my way to not take life too seriously, to take the piss out of myself and lighten up a little. It’s like I’ve forgotten how I was once a carefree 18 year old instead of a 49 year old worry wart.

I have had a pretty ordinary 2017 and subsequently, have most vehemently, decided that 2018, the year I turn 50, will be a year of changes and new beginnings for me. Let me tell you the struggle with perimenopause is real. There are far bigger problems in the world but this one knocked me for a six for at least half of 2017-this story deserves, and will get, it’s own blog post. I had more bullshit injuries and feeling sorry for myself-also another post. Don’t get me wrong there have also been good things happen this past year; my daughter got engaged and I completed my Level 2 Yoga Teacher training amongst other things. I made a list of 50 things to do before I turn 50 which I have barely started on. The reprisal of my blog is on that list. So yay, go me, for making a start, albeit it 6 months behind original starting schedule.

In 2018 I am going to live the life I want instead of the one I dream about. Even if it scares the living shit out of me, I have finally reached the stage of being more afraid of not doing and always wondering than doing nothing and living my safe and comfortable life. I am going to do more of what makes me happy and that which gives me a sense of calm and purpose. I am going to slow down, I am going to pause and I am going to be more mindful and in the moment. Instead of multi-tasking I am going to mono-task (can’t be guaranteed at this stage but will try really hard. I actually got multi-focal glasses so I could sew and watch tv at same time, totally not mono-tasking). I am going to go with the flow instead of continually fighting against it. And, I am going to listen to what my body, and my soul, tell me they need.

I am going to be grateful for what has happened to me in the past, and what I have learned and become because of it. Here’s to jumping off the big diving board, instead of the little one in 2018. Here’s to new beginnings!

Suzi xx