MY love

It hasn’t died – he did. It hasn’t left because I have found another – it’s still there, ever present. My love for Russ hasn’t left me, nor will it. It’s a song in my heart, an ache in moments of missing, an ever changing and evolving, living and breathing feeling of him. Still there, still present in my soul.

It hasn’t left me. I haven’t replaced him. I have moved forwards. He isn’t forgotten, nor just a memory of love that once was for that love is eternal. He is always in there, always.

My love for him is mine and mine alone. I can love him as I wish, as I need for as long as I need. He’s in my mind every day, every hour, sometimes every minute. My love calls him, checks in with him, needs him even though he’s not here.

I found myself justifying my love for him, because I was lucky enough to find happiness again. But I don’t have to. I was a fool for that man, he was in my every waking thought and my heart, he’s still in there. Only now, he shares that space. Two great men occupy my heart – lucky them (haha) and more appropriately, lucky me.

That love I have for him – it’s MY love. I don’t need to explain it, I just need to know it.

When jerks exist still…

I’ve spoken previously about an arsehole family member that has been exactly that. He’s come up in readings with mediums as someone to be careful of and I’ve even had dreams with Russ telling me not to put up with him anymore.

3 years down the track and he’s still the same *really rude word* he was before. Thing is, he hangs in some of the same circles as I do. I don’t often have to be in the same space as him because he picks and chooses when he could be bothered, he lives quite far away. 

Saturday night just gone, we had a big party to attend, he wasn’t going to be there. But when I got there, there he was. Fucking groan. Thing is, he and I have learned to just ignore each other at these events because let’s face it, why talk to someone you hate? 

Everything was fine, we avoided each other well. Right up until he’d had just enough to drink to talk smack about me… To my sister. Get fucked, idiot.

Now normally, I’d just ignore it all. But I’m actually done with him being such an arsehole. It’s completely unjustified, all because he hasn’t dealt with his grief, and I’ve always been his emotional punching bag. He’s never been a very nice person nor an emotionally intelligent one and yet even I have made excuses for his poor behaviour but I finally snapped.

If he wasn’t such an arsehole, Id continue to just let him be but he’s been playing the blame game since Russ died and I’ve been his number one target. He’s been nasty, nasty, nasty. I don’t deserve that, there is actually no one to blame here. It’s no ones fault, it just is what it is.

So, finally after 3 years of vile treatment from this vile person, he got told all the things I’ve spared him for the last 3 years and he deserved every single one of them. 

I know, without a shadow of doubt, who’s side Russ would be on… He forgets who I was to the person he uses against me.

“Just ignore him, he hates himself” is the general consensus. That’s what we get taught when we’re young, ignore the bully and they’ll go away. Except they don’t. He hasn’t. I do wonder how well these well meaning people who tell me to ignore him (out of love, always) would fare constantly being made out to be a bad person when they’re not. I don’t suppose they’d cope very well either.

I will not ignore this anymore. I ignored it and forgave him a lot, when he didn’t deserve it. I will not stand idolly by anymore. I WILL NOT.

You’ve moved on… So thats done then.

Interesting reflection the other day (Russ’ angelversary) surrounding me having moved forwards and what that now means according to many.

No one just out and said it, because, well I’m not surrounded by arseholes BUT there was a definite air about it.

On Russ’ angelversary, all his bestest and I gathered at his favourite pub. Like we do… This year the family chose to all be together elsewhere and that’s ok. Little sad because it gave me that real sense that I had officially moved onto another part of my life, but still ok. We all have to do what we have to do, right?

During these drinks, I encouraged people to talk about Russ. After all, that’s why we were there, right? Except that they tried not to… Not because they didn’t want to, but because I was at these Russ drinks with my current partner. So as not to offend him, they would change the subject. I even stated at one point in the night, with current partner in tow, that this night was about Russ. That boyf was there to celebrate him too and that this is not a surprise.

My current partner is ok with Russ talk. He and I do this thing, it’s called COMMUNICATING, I know unbelieveable, right? I know his Russ boundaries and he knows mine. We stick to those. We’re open and honest about how we feel about every single thing. He hasn’t come out of nowhere and doesn’t know the back story, he watched the back story happen. He was there when I first stole a sneaky kiss from Russ standing on a milk crate in HIS garage. That’s right, current partners garage. 

He knows that I can love him and love Russ too and he knows this because I just do.

The best way I can describe it is when pregnant with my second child I worried that I couldn’t possibly love her like I loved my first. Then my youngest was born and my heart grew. I loved them both equally and differently all in one.

I have learned I am capable of loving two men and being so so happy with only one. Current partner knows that too. 

I was sad that people felt the need to be quiet about this awesome guy we had all gathered to celebrate because they were worried about the guy I love now. I’m glad we have lovely people in our lives that care, but it didn’t make it less sad.

Moving forwards doesn’t make the past disappear. I’m grateful I’m with someone who understands that, even if others struggle to.

3 whole years! 3!!

Dear Rusi,

Let me just start by saying WHHHHAAAAAAAAATTTT?!??

3 bloody years today. That’s how long you’ve been gone. The thought of this is met with a big sigh and the noise of my internal computer trying to process this. 

I don’t understand how we’re here. One minute you were here, then you weren’t, now it’s been 3 whole years. What the fuckity fuck? Seriously!

I know you can see me. I know you know I’ve moved forwards. I also know you’d have wanted that for me. He’s a good bloke, you know, you chose him as your friend first. I trust your judgement, you always had amazing friends.

The missing is different this year. I miss you. I miss us. But I’m happy where I am. Weird huh? I’m living two lives alongside each other. Neither one more important than the other, but different, you know?

I’ve felt you around a lot lately. The feeling is odd, not like it was. Instead of an insistence, it’s just a gentle reminder. I don’t look as often now, so you make your presence known more gently.

I wonder if that’s when you know you’ve healed sufficiently in order to move forwards, when you don’t wait expectantly for any sort of sign from your beloved. I feel you when you come, but I rarely call you myself. I appreciate your visits but I don’t expect them.

The girls have felt you around, though I know you know that. The big one had a rare one sided and funny conversation with you the other day, I appreciated your presence in that moment.

We’re doing ok, my love. We still honour you, we still think of you, we still love you. You will always be a part of us and hopefully, the parts of us we lost when we lost you being nurtured up there with you.

There is still a Rusi shaped hole, but thankfully, it’s a little smaller. I guess that’s what 3 years does…

I love you. Very many.

Mazypants xx

To my girls… I want you to experience heartbreak.

What a thing to say from a Mum to her girls. But I said it and I mean it.

To my beautiful girls – my beautiful, intelligent, caring, warm daughters,

I want you to one day feel heartbreak and here is why. Life always tips one way or the other. You NEED the crappy to really truly appreciate the good. You need the sadness and brokenness to know when you’ve got something great.

Do I ever want to see you hurt? No. When you hurt, I hurt. What this life has taught me though is that it is a necessary evil and no matter how broken you are, you can rebuild yourself. Is heartbreak the worst that can happen to you? Not even close. Will it teach you amazing things about yourself so you can be the best version of you for the duration of this lifetime, abso-frigging-lutely!

With good comes bad. FACT.

I want you to embrace the bad, learn from it. I want you to appreciate the adventure it takes you on because equally on the flip side is the adventure the good will do for you also.

I want you to… Live. Feel. Be. Do. I want your heart to be full and sometimes I want it to be empty because when it’s empty, you’ll learn so much about yourself.

I want you to travel, feel the world at your fingers tips and equally wonder what the heck you did to get into such a mess. You deserve mess, mess makes us better people.

To my darling girls, I want you to feel heartbreak because heartbreak helps create space for you to be whole. Whenever you need, I’m right here in your corner. Complete, broken or anything in between.

Mum Xxx

On triggers and time…

I’ve been working on triggers since this all began, in a 100 different ways. Triggers to events or emotions felt can spin you right off your axis if you’re not careful. 

The sound of an ambulance use to trigger me. I’d physically recoil as the siren went past me, such was its affect on me because of the noise being connected to such a tragedy. Nowadays, I’m pensive about it. It doesn’t trigger me, though it does make me wonder if the person at the other end is ok, if they will be ok, if that family will be spared the agony we all went through.

Songs used to trigger me. Stuff that had played repetitively in good times with Russ made me sob because they’d never happen again and songs that had played on the radio around when he died made me fall in the grief rabbit hole.

Not long after we lost Russ, McDonalds brought out Monster High merch for happy meal toys and boy did that trigger me. Plastic Coffin handbags as casual McDonalds toys. It sent me into a tailspin. What the hell were you thinking Macca’s? I voiced my distaste for such a thoughtless toy on my Facebook page and most people were very meh about it. “It’s from a monster high! No big deal!” I was ropable, it’s a fucking coffin. Popular kids cartoon or not, McDonalds just gave my kids a fucking COFFIN.

On reflection now, this far down the track, my reaction was as a direct result of not coping at the time. I still think giving kids a coffin handbag isn’t the most child appropriate toy, but I myself have come to a more relaxed state regarding this. Because a coffin is no longer a trigger for me, you see? I’d still probably toss it out if it were given to us, but I wouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to it.

Ive found myself having massive triggers lately of an entirely different nature. My Dad is not really great at the moment. All his own doing. It’s causing a lot of strain and painful stuff to come up. I’m fighting myself to stay strong and remain in a staunch headspace but I’ve found by doing that, it creates other frustrations and I become furious at others who seem to create the same unnecessary burdens. Why does someone else’s choices for the long hard road have to affect me? Seriously.

I’ve never understood why people deliberately destroy themselves. Why they give up. Why they think they are immune from the consequences of their actions and how they think they’re actions don’t then create consequences for the people around them. People in constant destruction mode shatter the lives of their people constantly. It might be just tiny amounts but the consistent unrest, poor decisions, stubborn inability to just get it right and lack of care for how it’s affecting the people around them takes its toll. The people, whether it be family or otherwise, who surround you begin to tire. They can’t hold these poor decision makers up while they continue to selfishly go through life not helping themselves. There’s a huge difference between building someone up again when they’ve been down and out vs holding someone up while they make the same mistakes over and over and over again without ever changing their behaviour.

So all that brings me to my point… 

Having had all these issues with my Dad lately, I’ve found my tolerance is even less than it usually is. Won’t help yourself, I can’t help you either. Refuse to make things easier for yourself (and consequently, the people around you), then you’ll be doing it alone. 

The definition of insanity is: doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. 

I can take comfort in the fact that when something isn’t working, I change direction. Why is that so hard for others to do? Why do they keep doing the same things over and over expecting it to be different? Why can’t they see that there is an easier road or that it doesn’t have to be this hard?

Triggers are interesting and enlightening. If you take the time to really wonder why something is triggering you, and break it all down, you’ll see there’s something else there that needs to be worked through. If you pay attention to the feeling and correlate it with another feeling, you’ll see why something is triggering you in the first place.

Over and out.

On getting on…

Silly me is in the midst of completing two Diplomas. I never do things in halves, you know? Have to go full speed, running to some finish line, getting shit done INSTANTLY, this fucking MINUTE.
So, I’ve of course over loaded myself, AGAIN, but this is nothing new. This is what I do. Am I going a little nutty? Little….
Do I feel overwhelmed? Yes, yes, absolutely yes.
Will it be worth it? Of course.

I’m ready to just get on with it. Be the best version of me. Have the quals I need to reflect the me I need to be to just get on with it all.

The next step in my career is important and a big jump. I don’t want to spend the time working my way up the ladder over years when I’m already most of the way there with the quals I have. I just need that extra step complete and then I can step into where I should already be.

What’s this got to do with my blog and what I normally talk about?
Moving forward, that’s what. Steps, leaps, jumps, bounces in the direction of my new life.

I could allow the underlying brokenness to overwhelm me or I could actually use my time to get going into this new future of mine. Because I deserve the future I create for myself.

The modules aren’t actually hard, as I’ve worked with both within my career. It’s just the time, which I have to keep reminding myself is going to pass anyway, so best fill it with something useful.

Something I’ve always known is my capabilities have always surpassed my current situation, whatever that may be at the time. One day, I will have completed both these diplomas and I’ll be glad I flogged myself now to do them.

On our third wedding anniversary… without you

Here we are again.


On OUR day. Without you.

3 years ago today, I walked down a sandy aisle to the love of my life, I squinted at the sun as it settled down on the horizon and I told you I’d love you forever. 

Then in a minute you were gone. You left me here alone.

Today I am a bit torn. Between that chapter and this one. 

I jumped the wall and try not to look back too much because what’s in front of me is pretty fucking great. But my soul knows. It knows you’re missing, it knows you should still be here.

I’ve been scooped up and held by someone who accepts my past. Someone who loved you too. Someone who makes me look him in the eye and tell him what’s wrong and then hugs me because he knows I need it. Today he has the task of holding me because you’re missing. So weird and yet he just does it. He knew the baggage I came with. He knows what’s missing from my life. He watched me fall in love with you, marry you, then lose you. He watched my life explode and me fall apart. He’s helped me put some of my pieces back together. With love and understanding and so much maturity. 

He’s loved me back to life. This guy, babe, no wonder you loved him too.

Today, MFP, is about you and I and he’s here to hold my hand through that. I don’t know how I got to be this lucky but I feel so so blessed.

I never thought I’d love anyone else like I loved you and I was right. My love for him is different but just as deep and just as special. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who came close to making the impact in my heart that you did but I was wrong. You left some massive shoes to fill and I thought I had to find someone to actually fill them. But he has his own shoes and he’s filling them, differently, perfectly.

So on this day, this day about you and I, I have someone holding my hand and telling me they love me. I know you’d want me to feel that. I know you loved me enough to want me to feel that.

Happy anniversary baby. You’re still in there, holding space in my heart but I have to let go. Telling myself to let go used to feel like I was forcing it. I didn’t want to let go. I couldn’t. I couldn’t understand how I would ever be able to and yet… here I am.

I love you. I’ll always love you. But I love me too. 😘
A great quote from – One fit widow on Facebook.

“There is no moving on – there is just moving forward into a new normal. 

Yes, it is possible to honor the past while embracing the present. Yes, it is possible to grieve while living happily beyond loss. 

The two are never mutually exclusive.”

If I had a choice, I wouldn’t feel this way.

I’m tormented this morning and frankly, that feeling can go and fuck itself. 

A day out from our wedding anniversary. I thought I was going to be fine this year but apparently not. 

Grief isn’t something you have a whole lot of control over. You can, sometimes, but it’s more saving it up until you sort of pop… 

Thankfully the lead up this year hasn’t been so horrifying and silly me thought I’d escaped at least the wedding anniversary grief train but nope, it’s hit me today. Oh hey there, you’re just in time. Fucker.

There’s that resentment, the anger, the worry, the second guessing. Throw in some tears, some confusion and a whole lot of heartache. It’s a full blown grief party. Oh yay!

How silly was I thinking I’d just skip it this year because I’m happy? Which begs the question, how can I possible be this sad/mad/unhappy when on the flip side I’m happy/content/settled? In this same life…?? Heh?

Fuck sake. What the actual fuck.

If I was to give someone advice on how to handle all this though, it would be this.

Don’t fight grief. Just don’t. You won’t win. Nearly three years of this life I’ve learned. Grief is far more powerful than I and when I fight it, I come out second best. So I allow it. That’s the only control I have in that situation to choose to allow it. Eventually it starts to ebb away again and I can breathe.

Hurry up and get out of my system, you stupid grief arsehole!

April 11th – just another day?

I held my breath this morning while I checked my On this Day on Facebook. What would I see?

Ouch. A day of fun in Thailand with my love and my kids. The pain is weird this year. I’m tired when I feel it. Irritated. It shouldn’t be this way, we shouldn’t have to feel this.

The usual (my new normal) feeling of despair mixed with confusion mixed with a removed feeling of happiness from this new life I’m living has descended upon me this morning. I’m 9 days out from the anniversary of the day I tied myself to the love of my life and I can feel it creeping into my soul. The dread, the horror, the missingness of him.

I have genuinely happy news. News that makes me heart flutter and soul sing and yet here I am reliving some horror from my past. This won’t ever end, will it 😦

My mind keeps playing me snippets, a few times a day, of times gone by and I have to shake them off. It’s the most obscure feeling, like I made this whole life I’m remembering up. Did I make it up? Was it real? Was he real? Were we real? 

Obviously my coping mechanisms have kicked into overdrive. I’m not supposed to suffer forever, surely. Except I will. In different ways, but the suffering will continue in many different forms.

When I escape from these moments I have to remind myself that it’s ok for me to be as happy as I am in this now life and yet, I have all this horror in all the deepest crevasses of my soul that I can’t completely escape.

Gotta just trudge on. I’ve come so far, we all have. What choice do we have but to keep on going? Not like throwing our hands in the air and yelling ENOUGH will do anything. I know, I’ve tried.

Here’s to another day in paradise. Where my two different lives Mish mash at a moments notice. Where I’m confused and in pain but happy and in love. Fucking weird.