I wasn’t ok.

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If you were anywhere on social media last week you probably would have seen a bunch of posts urging you to ask someone you know “R U ok?”.

I think it’s a wonderful idea, anything that encourages people to open up and to know it’s ok to ask for help when they are struggling is a great thing. Those of you that follow my Facebook page or twitter might have noticed the lack of posts or memes from me on RUok day. (or maybe not, with Facebook limiting peoples reach and news feeds, it’s not hard to lose track.)

And the truth is, this is a cause I wholeheartedly support but I felt I was in no position to ask anybody else R U OK?

Because I, most definitely, was not ok.

This last year or so has had it’s fair share of ups and downs and I think I’ve been handling them fairly well for the most part, but this last week something went wrong. I don’t know if it’s this seemingly never-ending Melbourne winter getting to me, the two and a half month bout of bronchitis that just won’t bugger off, or my gorgeous “threenager” who is testing lots of boundaries these days (not to mention testing my patience and sanity on a daily basis too.) but somehow my juggling act fell apart and I landed in a big heap.

I’ve since picked myself up and dusted myself off. I’m not completely back to my regular snarky self yet, but I’m getting there.

If you know what depression feels like, then you have my wholehearted sympathy. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. A friend told me “Depression is such a sneaky bitch”. She was so right. You think you’re doing ok, you think you’re holding it together and then all of a sudden, BAM there she is, the bitch is back. And there’s really nothing you can do except wait till she gets bored tormenting you and leaves you to pick yourself up and start over.

If you don’t know what it’s like, I really envy you.

It’s so hard to explain, because everyone’s experience is a little bit different.

For me, it starts out just a tiny little negative thought or feeling the kind that you can normally brush away or ignore, except that this one won’t go away and it’s just rolling around in my head kind of like a tumbleweed blowing down the street in an old cowboy movie. As it’s rolling around it picks up speed and gets bigger and bigger until that little puff of wind blowing the tumbleweed turns into a tornado. It gets bigger and bigger, sucking everything else in until it blots out the sky and my entire mind is this chaotic, dark, swirling mess going a million miles an hour and it feels like my head is going to explode. And just like a tornado, there’s nothing you can do. You bunker down and wait out the storm and hope there’s not too much damage afterward. After a while you start to notice that you can hear other noises through the howling of the wind, that the sky is getting a little bit lighter, the clouds are starting to lift, the fear is loosening it’s grip on your chest, it’s a little bit easier to breathe, you start to look around and see that everything is still where it should be, the storm is finally over and you survived it. This time. And you pray it’s going to be the last time, but you know it won’t. That fucking black dog will be back and there’s nothing you can do about it, you just keep going because there’s nothing else you can do, you just keep going and taking it one day at a time, and if it when it comes back (because it always comes back) I will keep trying and keep going until one day I will beat this fucking thing.

imagesI will.

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** note **    I wrote this last week. I am feeling a lot better now. Not 100%, but a hell of a lot better than I was this time last week. I almost wasn’t going to publish this post, because I don’t want to worry anyone and I don’t want your sympathy, but this is my blog and my blog is like therapy for me. This is my place to share whatever I feel I need to share, good, bad, funny, whatever. But everything I chose to share with you, I share honestly and from the heart, so I felt that if I didn’t publish this, then I’m not being honest, not with myself or with you guys and I need to do that.

Also, I have checked in with my GP and discussed my medications and what’s going on and he’s ordered a bunch of blood tests just to double check there’s nothing more sinister going on.

If you are struggling, please, make sure you reach out and get help.  If you need it, there are some wonderful people at Beyond Blue, The Black Dog Institute and Lifeline that are trained to deal with these sorts of things and are there to help you and know that I am sending a heap of good vibes your way xoxo

 

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Why I Write – ( my first blog hop)

Hi there, a few weeks ago, I got tagged by the fabulous Lisa, at Cut My Milk, to join in a blog-hop and write a post about my writing process.

My response was “hell yes!” Quickly followed by “what writing process?

I got started and then life happened, and now it’s been lurking, unfinished, on my to-do list for a couple of weeks. I don’t know why I’ve been putting it off but the Squishy is asleep and Princess is doing something that involves barbie dolls, sticky tape and the cat – yeah I’m kinda scared to go look. Anyway, that means I should have at least half and hour to sit down and finish writing this thing, so here goes.

 

What am I working on?

Trying not to lose the children under the mountain of (clean) washing that threatens to overtake most of our living area.

Trying to build a house. (well, actually feeding, picking up after and trying to help Husband so he can build a house)

Trying to remember where I left my sanity (it’s probably under that pile of washing too)

Oh, you meant what am I working on writing? Yeah, um, not much.

How does my writing differ from others in my genre?

I’m not entirely sure what genre my blog fits into.

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This Is Beck is 2 parts Mummy Blog, 3 parts Personal Diary mixed a cup of with craft and cooking, a dollop of house building D.I.Y. Stir well and throw in a handful of assorted animals and family members for extra crunch. Cook over a high heat with plenty of wine. Season well with anxiety and PND and serve with a side of humour and honesty.

Why do I write what I do?

Because I can’t not write. It’s just that now I let everyone see it.

Ever since I first learnt to hold a pen, I have filled countless notebooks and journals with all sorts of random thoughts. It seems to be the way my brain works best, I can think clearer when I let the words out onto paper, things seem to make more sense that way. My blog is just an extension of the diaries I have always kept. I love that people actually read what I write, but I would still be writing this, even if nobody ever read it. I write the way I talk, honestly, straight from the heart and with plenty of emotion.

How does your writing process work?

Haha! That’s a good one, makes it sound like I’m a real writer or something.

Short answer? It doesn’t.

Usually I get an idea for a post I want to write. I go looking for something to write it down on, find that my notebook isn’t where I left it, go looking for it, find it hiding somewhere amongst all the toys (only after I’ve had to put them all away) Grab a cup of tea, sit down to write a post, one of the kids will inevitably poop, I’ll deal with that, reheat my tea, sit down again and have no idea  what I was going to write about. So, umm, what were we talking about?

It’s one of my goals for this year to try to get some kind of schedule happening and at least get something up on the blog semi-regularly. I’ll keep working toward that, but hey, we’re only 8 months into the year…I wouldn’t want to rush it 😉

Ok, so the next part of this blog hop thingie is to tag a few of my favourite bloggers to join in too. Although, since this thing has been up and running for a while, most of my faves have already done it so I’m only going to chose one, the gorgeous Vicki from Knocked Up and Abroad.

And I’ll link back to a few of my favourite posts from earlier in the hop. M’kay?

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Vicki and one of the little Vicklets

 

 Knocked Up and Abroad was conceived when Vicki backpacked around Europe where she visited 7 countries, over 7 weeks, whilst 7 months pregnant. Now she tackles a more suburban existence muddling through motherhood but still seeking out adventure with 2 Vicklets in tow.

 

 

 

 

 

This hop thing started over at Always Josefa, so stop by there to check out the other posts, and here are links to a couple of my faves Cooker and a Looker, Home Life SimplifiedThe Mother load.

As always, thanks so much for stopping by, feel free to let me know any of your fave blogs in the comments section.

Big Hugs

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A word to live by…

A few gorgeous bloggers I follow have set themselves a “word” for the year.

I think this is an awesome idea, but I had to think about it for a while to settle on what I want to focus on.

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There are so many things I need to let go of in my life and this is going to be the year to do it.

Let go… of expectations.

Let go… of the past.

Let go… of stress.

Let go… of clutter.

Let go… of self-doubt.

Let go… of anxiety.

Let go… of anything I no longer need around me.

Let go.. of anything that holds me back.

Let go… and be true to myself.

Let go… and follow my heart.

Let go… and enjoy the ride.

Let go… and embrace life.

Let go… and live in the moment.

Let go… and be happy.

 

As I work on letting go in different areas of my life, I’ll keep you updated on how it’s going.

Feel free to leave a comment about what you’d like to let go of this year, or if you have any tips for me 🙂

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A letter to myself.

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If I could go back and give my younger self some advice, this is what I would tell me:

Trust your body. You are stronger and capable of doing so much more than you think you are.

Sleep. But stay up late too, enjoy it. Once you have kidlets, it’s going to be a very long time until you get to enjoy either of those things without worrying about what time you’re going to be woken up and make sure you savour lazy mornings and coffee in bed – again it’s really hard to have a sleep in when you’re wondering what the kids are destroying in the other room.

Enjoy “me-time.” Don’t waste it. It makes me crazy when I think of all the time I spent watching crap tv or doing things I didn’t want to do for people who didn’t appreciate it. These days I hardly get time to eat or even pee without an audience, let alone to spend some quality time with my sketchbook or trying to do something I would really enjoy doing. When you have free time, use it to do something that makes you happy.

Don’t be shy about your body. Like most women, I have spent a crazy amount of time deciding what to wear, wondering if I should wear things; if a particular dress was too tight, or if those shorts are too short. Now, after birthing 2 babies, I feel like half the population has seen my hoo-ha, and I’ve got my boobs out and feed those same two babies just about everywhere, so at this point I certainly don’t have anything left to hide and I really don’t care what anyone thinks anyway!

“Getting Your Body Back” after having a baby is a lie. You don’t get the same body back. Sure, you can lose the weight, but things are different, softer, stretchier. It’s like the difference between a brand-new, tight pair of trendy jeans, or your old, worn-in, comfy jeans that have been everywhere. My body isn’t perky and new anymore, it’s definitely been used, but I’m a lot prouder of what it can achieve than I ever was of what it looked like.

Trust your heart and your gut. If either one of them tries to tell you something, for f**ks sake,  Listen To It!!!

 

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What advice would you give to your younger self?

Drop me a comment on the blog or the facebook page and let me know xoxo

Doing what you’ve gotta do, to get where you want to get.

Hiya peeps.

A few people have asked me how we can possibly afford to build a house when we both haven’t worked at proper jobs for 3 years.

The answer is simple, really.

Sacrifice.

Sacrificing lifestyle now for a better lifestyle in the future.
Sacrificing comfort now for getting into the new house sooner.

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It’s no secret that we’ll be completely broke by the time this house is finished.

We’ve had to scrimp and save, take little bits of work here or there, lucky Kane’s had a few jobs along the way (he’s self employed), I’ve done market stalls and the occasional hair do from home… it definitely hasn’t been easy but I also think we’re pretty lucky to be able to do it this way.

One thing we’ve had to do is give up on “luxuries” to get to our end goal faster.
Not getting my hair or nails done, checking out sales and op shops for clothes, (lucky we both really like vintage stuff!) not buying the little things you tend to grab without really thinking about it; a take away coffee, a magazine or newspaper, always taking water bottles out with us (good for you, good for the environment, and you save money not buying soft drinks)

And it’s kind of impossible to have much of a social life with 2 kids, 2 dogs and trying to save money, and entertaining at the shed can be a bit hard. It’s ok in summer when the weather’s nice, but as soon as it gets cold – forget it!

A really hard one for both of us has been music.
We both have ridiculous cd collections and really love going to see live music, but hey – that’s what birthday and christmas presents are for, right?

And there’s absolutely no way we would be able to do it without help.

All kinds of help that have been absolute lifesavers, from something as simple as watching the kids for a couple of hours so I can help Kane do stuff on the building site, or some fresh veggies from someone’s garden to save us a couple of dollars on our grocery bill, or just a sympathetic ear to complain to when it all gets too hard. To huge things like helping to build stuff, chopping firewood ready for the winter, gifts and loans of cash to help us buy the next lots of building materials.

Doing this has really made me see how blessed we are with wonderful family and friends.

It does make me wonder sometimes though, when people say how they’ve can’t afford things…if you want to do something, if you really want it enough you’ll find a way. I would have said there was no way someone could do what we’re doing…but here we are!

What could you sacrifice to help achieve your dreams?

Till next time lovelies,
This is Beck xoxo

The post I almost didn’t write.

This is really fucking hard to write.

I’ve started and stopped so many times I’ve lost count. It’s time to stop thinking about it and let out the words that have been taking up space in my head for too long.

Every family has it’s quirks but mine has it’s own special kind of crazy.

When I was a kid my mum used to joke about how much therapy I was going to need because of her.

She doesn’t know that she was right.

 

I have trust issues.

I have honesty issues.

I have control issues.

Most of my issues stem from being completely manipulated and used by the person I should have been able to trust the most.

My Mother. 

I have spent a lot of years hurting, feeling angry, confused, helpless, lost, betrayed.

Blaming myself, wondering what I had done wrong.

And finally, at almost 32 years old, I have the answer.

I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t deserve to be manipulated, used, decieved and discarded depending on her mood. I was a kid, none of it was my fault.

 

So right here, right now, I’m letting it go.

I choose not to allow the damage she has caused to linger in my life for a single moment longer.

 

For so long I wished for a proper mother. Someone to care, to lean on, to share special moments with, someone who’s always on your side. Someone you can trust. 

I’ve finally realised that I’ve been missing something that I never actually had.

I choose to concentrate my time and thoughts with the little family Kane and I have built for ourselves.

Finally.

After 32 years.

I choose to be free.

Everything that matters to me. Right here.

Everything that matters to me. Right here.

Till next time lovelies,

{This is} Beck xoxo

What a first year.

This week my not so little Squishy-Bear tuned one!

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What a year it’s been, my little one.

The joys of teething, colic, poop explosions  and sleepless nights.

ok, maybe not.

 

But there has been some wonderful memories.

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The very first gummy smile.

The first giggles. The great big chuckle I get when I blow raspberries on his tummy.

This little bundle of cuteness is 9 month old Carter, also known as Squishy-baby

 9 month old Squishy

The gorgeousness of a still-damp from the bath, powder scented baby cuddles.

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The adorable kitten-y noises he makes when he’s just about to drift off to sleep.

The way his whole face lights up when he sees his big sister.

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Snugglebug & Squishy

Ittyy-bitty chubby little baby fingers and toes just begging to be nibbled on.

The little half-curl of hair just above his left ear that always sticks out and makes me wonder if he’s going to have his daddy’s gorgeous curly hair.

Miss Snugglebug meeting Squishy for the first time.

Miss Snugglebug meeting Squishy for the first time.

 

The very first time he said “mama” and then quickly progressed to “mummy, daddy, nan-dee, pow-ee” (polly) He can’t say his sister’s name yet, but just hearing it brings a huge grin to his face.

The first time I saw my babies playing happily together.

The way that, sometimes, only Mummy cuddles can fix whatever is wrong.

A happy little Squishy

A happy little Squishy

 

Seeing our son snuggled up sleeping soundly in his Daddy’s arms.

Squishy baby & Daddy

Squishy baby & Daddy

A million firsts; trips to the shops, visiting people, getting to know his cousins, trying different foods, exploring, learning, tasting, seeing so many thing for the very first time. The fascination in a single blade of grass, the determination to pick up the teensiest speck of dirt between two very careful chubby fingers, the look of pure joy the first time he succeeds in doing something, the dreamy, peaceful sleeping face that I could stare at for hours.

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Happy First Year, my little Squishlet, love you to bits,  mummy xxx