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Being Resilient

My father died almost 11 years ago. I can’t actually believe it was so long ago although it feels like a lifetime ago when I think about all the things he has missed. Birthdays, Christmases, graduations, boyfriends, an engagement, my wedding, the birth of my son, that time I nearly died… the list goes on and on. There are tonnes of small things too. I think perhaps the conversations are the hardest to live without. When you think, I wonder what my dad would suggest but then you can’t ask

I almost never post on a Saturday. Weekends are sacred family time for me – usually I’m not even at home long enough to type anything out but today, things are bugging me and I had to write.  Creative release as therapy and all that. So, what’s bothering me? Last night, we went to a friend’s birthday party. We left home at about 6.30pm, even though we were supposed to be there at 6pm but a little baby and being on time don’t always go together so well so we

When you have to live your day-to-day life with an Ostomy, you jump for joy at the thought of ANYTHING that makes your day a little bit easier. Most people don’t have ostomies, most people don’t know what that means but for those of us that do know, we know that it can feel degrading to have to get that up close and personal with your body waste. You become all too familiar with your poop and really, you’d give anything (at least I know I would have) to not

Anxiety. It drives me up the bloody wall. One minute I’m totally fine, the world is wonderful and the next, the next I’m reduced to tears and I don’t know why. So I assess my life – nope, all good. I’m happy, I’m healthy (well, besides 5 weeks of Bronchitis grrr) and life is relatively good. So no problems there and yet here I am… falling apart. I woke up this morning feeling overwhelmed. Feeling like a failure and feeling like I can’t get anything right. When I question what

Today, my son turns one. This is a HUGE deal to me. A year ago today, I went into labour two weeks earlier than expected (thanks to a burst, undiagnosed appendix) and without knowing it, the course of my life changed in more ways than just becoming a mom. I nearly died. I say these words and they still feel like the words of a stranger. Like, this couldn’t be my story. perhaps I read it somewhere. One of those things that happen to a “friend of a friend” –

I wrote this poem in 2008 after my dad died in a car accident. There is nothing great about the poem itself. It was just a 23-year-old who had lost her dad rambling onto a page. I was traumatised for a long time after he died. His death changed everything about me and who I am. It took away religion for me and opened my eyes to the fact that death is just a part of life and sometimes it happens to good people without reason. It just is what

I’ve avoided talking about this topic for the longest time but the niggling feeling that I need to won’t go away. I guess it’s a tough one to address when it’s so personal but I’m hoping that sharing my story can help others. During my perfect childhood, I was surrounded by not so perfect abuse. There was so much of it in my family. You see, when you come from a country dominated by patriarchy, men seem to believe that they own the rights to everything, including the women in their

It’s a weird thing when you feel like you’re lying at the bottom of a pit of despair and then suddenly out of no where, you get an email telling you that you’re inspirational and deserve this amazing T-shirt just for being awesome. I guess it’s hard to believe nice things about yourself. In fact, even writing this feels like I’m patting myself on the back. I’m not. In these pictures, which were taken MONTHS ago, I was feeling like death. If you look under my eyes you can see

Lately, I feel like everywhere I turn there are people putting up with toxic relationships with people who do nothing but bring them down. There are people who actually thrive on bringing others down and causing chaos. You know the type of person, always causing drama and insulting people or acting superior. Everything they think is right and you don’t know anything and every opinion you have is wrong. Those people make you feel bad about yourself just by being around you. Those people are toxic and in a world

A few weeks ago, my doorbell rang. It was my uncle dropping off some things from my grandmother’s house. You see, my grandmother died in January. A few days after my 33rd birthday – while I was lying in hospital. This woman had been like my mother. For ten years of my life she took care of me, she brushed my hair, she dressed me, she made my lunch. She loved me like I was her child. When I turned 13, I packed my bags and moved in with my

The last few weeks have been really tough. My surgery went amazingly (Read about that here) well and a week after being sent home from the hospital I went for a check up and my surgeon happily reported that everything was perfect and it’s all over. I smiled all the right smiles but in my heart, I knew that if something seemed too good to be true, well then, it probably is. Sadly I was right. From right after surgery, I’d had a sharp pain just to the right of

These last few days have been sad days for me. Yesterday without thinking I opened up a letter my gran had written for my wedding. It was a beautiful wish for happiness and it means so much to me because my gran died the year after I got married. At the end of the letter she said she was glad she had met Gerard and she knew that we’d have a long and happy marriage. I basically lost all control reading that. I sobbed and then I sobbed a little

My stoma was never meant to be permanent. It was something that needed to happen in order for me to live and hate it as I did, it saved my life. I got my little friend “Francis” during an emergency procedure that saved my life after my colon was ruptured giving birth. You see, it (my colon) had been fused to my uterus and tugging my baby out my belly had caused my uterus to rip away from my colon leaving a hole in it. A number of days later

In September, after a number of complications, I woke up as an Ostomate. If you don’t know what an Ostomate is, don’t worry, neither did I till I was one. (Catch up on that story here) Ostomate, noun The definition of an ostomate is a person who has undergone a surgical procedure to create an opening in the body that will be used to discharge wastes. A person who had cancer and who can no longer expel waste naturally who has a surgery performed to create a port that bodily

So the last 7 months have been a roller-coaster of every kind of emotion. If you follow my blog, you know the story. If not, in summary, I had a baby in September and then had a whole lot of surgery after that, a stint in ICU and a little near death experience. I kid you not. Things have been hectic for me. Not only have I been trying to adjust to being a new mom which is bloody hard in itself, but I’ve also been dealing with my emotions

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