What doesn't kill me makes me stronger.

Well, after not being happy most of this year; and feeling like life's shit; and feeling so angry; and feeling so anxious; and feeling so down, and after a slight intervention by my boss, I have gone to the docs to seek help.

I got a blood test to rule out any underlying causes. I will go back to the doc on wednesday to get the results, and organise what to do.

I have been rather sad lately, and I can't really remember when I was last happy. My boss reckons something has been wrong, that i have not been the same for about 2 months, but for me it has been longer. I was happy when I got Pangur and my fishies, but I also remember afterwards feeling, thinking, "It didn't work", getting a cat didn't fix it. So.

It is telling when other begin to take notice. My mum said to my co-worker the other week thet I wasn't happy; my boss asked her a few times if she knew what's wrong.
More telling: a old friend now aquaintance whom I see at mutual friends things came up to me in early sept. and started telling me about a book on the different stages of depression. And how she thought I might be interested, and how am I doing anyway? 'cos I don't look so great, something is wrong, and she recommended going to see someone because she got onto something and it makes a big difference, and when I demurred she said that one doesn't know there is a better way because the state we live in is all we know. It can make one calmer, less mental dialogue, less confusion, better clarity in thinking, happier... or at least not as sad. I described some stuff and she said she had felt similar, so perhaps it could help me too. Basically: Seek help because there can be a better way of living.

So my boss then insisted we go to lunch, and I didn't want too, but one has to obey the boss, and he was actually really good, and he actually cares. I was expecting something worse. His advice: Get help now, because the lower one gets, the harder it is to come back, to get better. Get help now before it gets too bad.

As the doc said, I can't hide it anymore.

This is not new. It has come again.

Cooking

I was a bit adventurous yesterday (apart from rescuing flying foxes), and decided to put my cooking lesson of a few weeks ago from a friend into action.

I made paneer, a cheese made form milk curd used in indian cooking, and chapati bread. I was in the middle of mixing the dough when the call to the rescue came through, so when I got home I made some more.

It all turned out quite well. Paneer is so easy to make, and tasted really good. I made a paneer korma curry with it last night, and had the chapatis to go with it. I'll need a little practice with the rolling, but i did ok in the cooking part for a first attempt: nice warm chapati with melted butter and just a few charred spots. It actually tasted really good together. And chapatis are so quick and easy as well, flour and water. I need never buy paneer from the shop again. And I can have chapati to accompany any curry in the future.

Once I get some more brown lentils I'm going to make my sludge-come- dal again. It was delicious last time, even though I wasn't following any recipe.

I should get into making more dishes from my lovely new vegetarian cook book, a gift from a friend (who is moving overseas next week). The one who gifted me a novel a couple of months back. We (he) cooked a vegetarian indian feast a few weeks ago as a cooking lesson to show me how to cook paneer, and bread and dal and lassi and other stuffs. I was sooooo full after that. Then we had chocolate, caramel, and almonds in puff pastry as dessert. Needless to say I rolled to the car......

Fish Update

My siamese fighter is not well; happened very suddenly, was fine friday as far as I remember, but on saturday fins looked all sticky and decayed: fin rot.
I put him in a separate bowl and medicated him. He isn't eating, and now is swimming funny or just lying on the bottom.

I got some more plants to put in the tank, some large and small val, so tank looks all grassy and reedy. The fish seem to enjoy swimming amongst it.

I also bought some acid buffer stuff. The idea to lower the pH slowly, and then get some discus and see if they survive. They are a bit pedantic, and fussy... not too mention a bit expensive. Aquarium has cheap ones at $40 atm......

Bat Rescue

I attended a Bat rescue yesterday, to a dead mother and her alive babies, twins which are rarer.
The caller, a nice young lady, had found the body on a busy road and moved it off. Not being sure how she died it is remarkable that they all weren't run over, as it is likey she got there during the night, and the call didn't come in til about 2pm-3pm? Can't remember. I was in the middle of making dough.....

After finally locating the lady and examining the babies, with dead mother 'n all I rushed off to my Aunt's place, (the carer, and the one who got me into this). One of the babies cried during the way home, and I drove with one hand justy resting over him, to give him my warmth, and maybe some Reiki. He was the most alert, the other was huddled in her wings and handn't moved much at all.

I got them home, rang Aunt, found some sterile water, and tried to get some water into them. They are soooo young, barely with any hair. I figured out that the second one was attached to a teat, but as I was trying to find soemthing to cut the teat she disingaged herself. It was difficult getting her to let go of mum with her clawed toes but we got there in the end. She is adorable. I get some water into her, and she cries and clambers over my hand, 'til she gets into a comfortable and safe spot. She peers at me through unfocusing eyes, and her tiny tiny pink tongue laps at the water still on her lips. I attend her brother, try to feed him, but he no longer makes any noise. Don't give up i plead.

My aunt and her friend arrives. We establish that they perhaps are just born, either the mother died just after, or perhaps the act of dying expelled them from her womb. The other one is actually still attached to the placenta, and we have to cut the umbilical cord.

As our friend goes to get milk, my aunt and I try to keep them warm, with hot water bottles and we have to sterilize all bottles and teats and jars, as they are too young to deal with germs. They both weigh 66grams. after a bit of trouble we sex them; I was correct! My intuition that had me calling one 'she' and one 'he', without looking, was spot on.

My aunt is able to give the girl milk; She is the older twin, she had already found a teat, was a bit more furred and her umbilicus had broken; her brother, he still hasn't responded. He has moved a little, made a few noises, but now lies still, in bat-foetal position. Don't give up little one.
But he has. He died. So quietly, we can barely determine he actually has gone. My aunt gives mouth to mouth, to no avail. He was the smaller, the second twin. Barely any hair. It is very sad. The little girl has lost her sibling. But hopefully she'll go okay, and thrive, and be cared for until she can rejoin the wild spaces, the trees and the skies.


Flying foxes are extremely important for the ecosystem, the rainforest. They need the trees, and the trees need them. They are the major pollinators for our rainforests, our euchalypts, natives. But the bats also need the trees to live, to roost, to sleep, to raise their babies.
Please be gentle with them. They are exceedingly intelligent, and some scientists think they should be included with the primates.

Just don't touch them, or let them bite you. Or they will have to be put down.
Ring Bat Rescue, or parks and wildlife, or rspca, or one of the other many wildlife caring organisations.
Always check dead ones, because, like this poor dead mother, who probably never saw her beautiful twins, she may be carrying babies who are alive, and in dire need of help. And never, ever, leave one alive to die slow deaths on barbwire. It is exceedlingly cruel. Many of them have be put down, but imagine dying slowly of starvation, dehydration, injuries, in the hot sun, over a number of days. Call someone!! Please.
http://www.batrescue.org.au/

I can't be bothered.

I collapse on the bed. The clean sheets, the soft doona. I lay, eyes open, staring at nothing, glazed over. The voice says: “You wanted to do some art during these days. You have done none. Do some painting, some ceramics. Build, sculpt, carve, create. Remember last week, the remembered peace, the joy?” No I answer. “You do remember. You love it. And you haven’t done all that which you had planned. Time is against you. Art! Clay! Create! Enjoy!” it cajoles. I do remember.

I can’t be bothered.

I wait here alone, as the afternoon fades, the room growing darker. Evening comes on, I do not move. I await My Lover, but they do not come. I am here all alone. Again. Forever Alone. Dusk. My eyes can see quite well the shades of grey, the silhouettes, the contrasts, the shapes. I lie here alone…. no, wait, my Cat appears. Alights on the bed and finds a spot, a cosy place formed by my body. She curls up beside my warmth. I am all alone in the world. Except for my cat. I feel her body vibrating against mine. She is warm. She goes to sleep. The vibrating stops. I could get up, turn on a light. Do something, anything. Live. I can’t be bothered. It grows ever darker and I like this dark, it is easier to hide, to hibernate when it is dark and no-one can see, I do not have to hide in the dark, It shelters me.

Oh and here as I lay, my inner self saying, “Go to yoga then, you can do it Baby. You like yoga, you love yoga. You used to love yoga. Off you go. Time to go now. Come on Baby…..” an incessant pleading that I ignore easily, though not without guilt, the voice so far away. The minutes tick by. Then it is too late. The voice stops. I loved yoga. Once.

I can’t be bothered.

It is spring is it not? But the evening has brought in a cool breeze that enters through the windows and makes the blind dance, banging against the windowsill.
A cool breeze it is and my feet are cold. A wave of goose bumps erupts upon my bare skin, as the breeze kisses skin softly like a lover; the hairs on my arm standing on end, and I snuggle deeper into the covers, deeper against my Cat. I should put a jacket on; a jumper; my pj’s.

But I can’t be bothered.

I wonder about dinner. What should I cook? Do I have stuff to cook with? No, not really. I went shopping only yesterday, but I bought enough only for one meal, plus staples. I do have enough for my usual, Stir-fry, but do I have noodles? Perhaps not. I ponder. I don’t want stir fry, I have that all the time. “There is frozen fish, salad? Toast, cereal, eggs? Pasta, rice, couscous?” The voice blurts out the entirety of my pantry. The options are really only cereal or toast and eggs. Or fish, chips and salad. I love food. It is my only pleasure. I consider the block of Lindt chocolate, I have a little bit left. I love food, it brings me joy. “A nice takeaway?” But I continue to lay here in the dark. My stomach growls. I ignore it. I don’t feel like food anymore.

I can’t be bothered.

I listen to the sounds around me, as I lay here in the dark, with my Cat. A dog in the distance barking, cars driving on the main roads a few blocks away. I think of the occupants, coming home from a long days work. Life continuing around me. More dogs barking at each other, nearer now, than farther away. More cars, noisy engines, motor bikes….., and closer still the blind in this room thumping to the wind, the metal blind in the next room clanking to the same wind. Footsteps in the home next door. Domesticity. Life. The Cat stretches, yawns, settles again. The warm body touching mine. I remain here, alone except for my Cat, eyes open, looking at nothing, not moving, growing colder, in this darkened room.