Sunday, 29 July 2012


Only last year, I was still in ridiculous amounts of pain.

Two years ago, I was in unbearable pain, physical and emotional, crying all the time, not wanting to cut myself off from the world again, but finding myself incapable of coping with it.

Four years ago, I was making my first steps towards regaining a normal life, one that involved social and physical activities, feeling so lucky that I had found a chiropractor who was giving me back this chance.

Eight years ago, I was sinking into a miserable depression, having lost two pregnancies in a year and knowing most people were so tired of me being sad that I just kept up a happy face.  One Kinder Mum said she was astounded when she found out I was depressed, because I always seemed so cheerful that she had been envious.  I must remember that when I worry about my acting abiity.
Now.  Right now.   I feel pretty good.  By the Ambulance Guy's scale of "Zero is no pain and 10 is the worst pain you can ever imagine", I'm feeling about on a one.  Neck twinges, of course.  Slight ache in my lower back.  I'm ignoring any circus/rollerblading induced pain, since that creates more happiness than the pain takes away.  Some numbness down my right arm.  I may have dropped a lot of things today, since I am totally out of the habit of watching myself pick up something, visually gauge how tight I need to hold it and then keep monitoring it all the time.  Did I ever decline to hold your baby, when everyone knew how much I adored cuddling babies?  This would be why.  My heart would jump and that horrid feeling of intense fear and apprehension of injuring such a precious being, plus the added social worry of having to decline such a risky activity without having to go through the whole explanation and medical aspect of why.

I know some Kinder Mum's thought it was because it was too emotionally hard for me, after having lost so many pregnancies.  Which in some cases, it was.  
A close friend, whom I used to visit every week had a lovely new daughter,  She was six weeks old before I managed to force myself over for that first meeting.  I had my princess in the toddler seat, wondering why I kept turning the car around to go home.  She probably didn't wonder why I cried, cos even at that age, she knew how much I missed the sister she was supposed to have, the unknown ectopic baby that I hadn't even allowed myself to hope about, or so I thought.  My Princess watered our lost baby's rose every day for that autumn. 
When I finally reached my friend's house and cuddled her new little girl, (sitting ever so carefully on the couch and letting her put her tiny lady into my lap, cos she knew all about my difficulties) it felt like the grey ice around me shattered a little and let some sunshine back into my heart.

I can handle this level of pain.  I can handle the rigmarole, the restrictions that go with keeping it to this level.  I can cope.  
And every single moment of the day, I am very aware of how lucky I am to have the life I have right now.  And I am going to use it.
Admittedly, for Circus and playing with my daughter, collecting old cars with my Hubby and cuddling my cats. 

Thursday, 26 July 2012

TMI ... have just discovered textfromdog

Someone on FB linked me to this hilarious website,

I really need to pee, but I can't stop reading and laughing so loud, that the friend whom Hubby was on the phone too had to ask "what one earth was going on with Esse?".

I really need to pee.

But I can't stop reading...


Please let this end well, please let this end well....

Friday, 20 July 2012

Yours in arachnophobia

*Warning!  While there are no pictures of spiders, there is a picture of a bite wound, for those who find such things icky.  

On Sunday, I will be attempting to get my First Aid Certificate.

I have nearly finished my theory.

I am stuck on one bit. 
In the poisons section.
The bit with all the identifying pictures.
And a video.

Of Spiders.

I have not managed to watch it yet.

Even scrolling down to it, I have to go past a Funnel web spider (treat with compression bandaging all the way up the limb).

Then after it is a redback spider (treat with cold compress) and a charming portrait of a white tail spider (wash area with soapy water to reduce bacterial infection)

Wish I'd known that after that rotter bit me.  One month of feeling like I had a burning hot knitting needle stuck in my thigh might have been reduced slightly.  This is what a white tail BITE looks like after two weeks.
It is about 1.5 cm wide at this point.  Later, it got to be the size of a 20 cent coin and was a weird, blue, scaly looking thing.  My Princess joked her mama was turning into a Dragon.  I think she might have been a little bit hopeful, also...

They missed "Huntsman" - treat with panicky flailing of limbs until the horrid thing that crawled onto your car speedo, looked at you through your steering wheel, reared up it's two front legs and jumped on your head is in multiple pieces on the floor of your car... and you are wearing Sandles with Huntsman's legs still caught in them.

Hubby was very impressed that I managed to pull the car over.  He'd always said that I was going to die of a spider related car accident.

My Husband recommends a desensitisation program, to cure my irrational spider phobia.   I have lived in abject, irrational fear of his following through with this helpful concept for years, till I finally broke down in tears and made him say he wouldn't do it.

I recommended moving to England, where they barely have any spiders at all.

So, when I do the actual First Aid course... are they going to show *that* video and flash up pictures?  Now plotting which friend to hide behind during said video...

Yours in Arachnophobia,


Sunday, 8 July 2012

Sparkly Zombie Attack

Costumes and blankets strewn over the floor.
Face painted and glitter spray in my hair.
Guipure lace daisies I bought on a whim over 15 years ago finally on display.

A self portrait of an Eccentricess moments before she picked up her cherry red, sparkly, shiny hoops to go on stage in front of 200 people and wiggle her 85 kg figure in lycra.

Shimmery, sparkly lycra. 


I walked out like this...

And I came back looking a little bit like this...

Zombiefied and happy about it!

My coach said when I spun around and my hair unravelled out gloriously, all the glitter and sparkles spun out around me and her thought was that "Esse would be so happy"!

Enjoy the good times with all your heart, soul and let yourself sparkle!

Cabaret = Happy

My costume got close enough to finished.
Our cherry red sparkly hoops were awesome...right until you got them under blue stage lighting and we COULDN'T SEE THEM!!!
Apparently every else could, due to their intense sparkliness, but tricks we got so easily earlier in the day, were simply not happening and we couldn't understand why.... :-o
M and I threw ourselves into an act that we had never managed to run through with decent timing... and while we both messed up tricks, the act itself...totally came together for the night.

It was awesome.
We were fabulous.
We made so many mistakes.
My Hubby was smiling when I came to see if he had enjoyed himself after the show.
Considering he has given up weeks of "cooked dinners" and "housework being done rather than being a conceptual fantasy", this is a very good reaction.

This act, "the Red Shoes", was very personal to me.

Because I love the story/movie/Kate Bush adaptation

All of these touch my heart.
The common story of giving into tempation.  My life story.
My constant battle.
plus the image of Vicky Page jumping into those red shoes has been part of my psyche for longer that I can recall.

I wanted to do this act... justice.
I wanted it to be GOOD.
So many compromises, for the story.  To bring across the concept, even when I knew I could perform better.
To edit this, edit that to give the story life.
Art mimic's life.

Tomorrow.  Knowing I have done the best acting I could, stretched myself in the name of art, had an amazingly talented partner...
I will clean the ruddy house.

Cos I have so neglected it in my passion, my love, my fire to make M and mine "Red Shoes" act, amazing.

Did I mention that M is an awesome friend?  Cos she is.  Talented, fun, gorgeous and dedicated.  I feel honoured to have had her agree to work with me. *whopping humungous smile*



My bugalicious child had a sleep over yesterday and is home tonight.  For me to go and check on important things like "Is she still breathing?" and "Is she still cute?".


Today is happy.