This is where I shall end my NaNo journey for 2011.
For those who haven't participated before, trying to write 50000 words in 30 days is a tall ask. It equates to 1667 words every day of the month. If you want to try and leave yourself a buffer, you're looking at roughly 2000 words. For some people, this is an easy feat - the words come easily, and there's always something for characters to do. For others, it's about as painful as trying to push out a uni assignment every day of the year, albeit nowhere near as boring.
For me, flying by the seat of my pants without any planning whatsoever made the pursuit incredibly difficult. I found my stride somewhere around day 19, but a few days where I hadn't had any opportunity to write quickly knocked the goal far out of reach.
Reflecting on the month that has passed, I've learned an incredible amount and gained some wonderful friends in the process. I now have a finger on the pulse of the Brisbane writing scene, and inroads into becoming a professional writer. Whilst I still have a long way to go to get to where I want to be, I know how to get there now. I also learned a lot about my own writing abilities over the month, especially now I've honed my writing and gotten back into the swing of things. I suppose if I had to put down to it, my two greatest challenges are developing my technique for writing dialogue, and developing a way to write in third person that I'm comfortable with. I'm comfortable writing in first-person, but I also know it isn't the most common perspective people write from.
To Mel, Tara, Sean, Steph, Bianca, Shantell, Ray, Winnie and everyone else who I met along the way (and I'm really, really sorry if I forgot anyone, but I promise I was thinking about you!), thanks for making NaNo 2011 an absolute blast! I'll definitely be back next year (with Nancy!), and I definitely won't be leaving ausnano while people are still poking around on there. I'd also like to thank Tristan for putting up with me this past month. He's had to make some sacrifices and put up with my antics on some days while I put myself through the ringer, and I am incredibly grateful for it.
As for me, I'm going to spend a couple of weeks off before getting back to it with a vengeance.
This time, I'm gonna kick some literary ass.
Showing posts with label Reflection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflection. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
On Purpose
I know this blog has been dead for a while, but I feel now's a good time to revive it. I promise I'll do my best to keep this updated more regularly than I have been.
For those who haven't been keeping tabs on me of late, it has been a little over 12 months since I stopped seeing my psychologist. I'm now living in Brisbane, between jobs, and up until recently have had zero idea what direction my life was going to take.
For those who have followed a path similar to mine, walking away from a degree you thought was certain to give you a stable career that you enjoyed is a really big deal. When I first went to Charles Sturt University to begin my teaching degree in 2007, I thought that at the end of my four years I'd end up working as a teacher of some description, that I would continue to do until I found something related that I would then enjoy to avoid burning myself out. However, the events of 2009 left me completely burned out, with the spark of teaching thoroughly extinguished. Since then, I have been left to figure out what path I should take.
For those mature-aged students who had the drive to chug themselves back through uni to get another degree, I tip my hat to you. It takes a pretty big pair of balls to drag yourself through that.
Personally, I could not put myself back through uni in the foreseeable future. I tried doing a subject this semester, but I hit a wall after the fourth week and couldn't commit myself to it. I'm not 100% certain what's stopping me, but even working with my psychologist we couldn't break it.
Since then, I've tried to get myself back on my feet, find a stable job and get myself to the point where I can find what I'm happy doing, and then go at it like a bull in a china shop.
Enter NaNoWriMo.
For those unfamiliar with it, National Novel Writing Month is four weeks of nothing but writing badly, giggling incessantly over cups of coffee, and having a great amount of fun and frustration at trying to put 50000 words down in a coherent fashion. This year I decided to tackle it for the first time. During my teenage years I had started a number of novels covering a broad range of genres (fantasy, speculative fiction, mystery), but have always lost motivation once the story gets going. I signed up for NaNo on the premise that I would find the motivation and support to drive a novel in full. Have I been successful thus far? Not exactly. However, what I have gained from the exercise (even though I'm only 9 days into it) has been of far greater benefit to myself than anything else in my memory.
Over the years, writing has been a mainstay of my life, usually floating somewhere just beyond the edge of my periphery. Up until year 11, there were points in my life where my writing ability shone through, but it wasn't ever something I seriously considered becoming involved in. In hindsight, I have no idea why. After one auspicious creative writing task in year 11 that had my high school's English department commending me on how far my writing had come, I began to consider myself as half-decent writer. Mostly, my writing has been very narrow in scope - dark speculative fiction in first-person POV that more often than not involves less-than-sane characters and nonexistent plot lines.
Having started (and restarted) my NaNo novel, I've discovered that I find it challenging to weave plots and create scenes for extended periods of time before my imagination gets the better of me (for those who've seen me write in progress, it usually involves lots of getting up and walking around randomly like a complete wanker). However, I am more or less completely comfortable with being able to just knock back words on a page (like this very blog post!). I think...that my challenge is to find a style of writing that suits my way of thinking, and build on it to the point where I can make the most use of it. I could happily spend the rest of my days writing I think if I can manage this.
If I want to write for a career, there are a few options that I can see myself safely doing:
1. Children's Literature Teaching/Workshops/Textbook Writing
Realisticly, this would best line up with my current education. To achieve this, I would need to first become a published author and/or complete my degree (although shift my subjects to a greater emphasis on English teaching). Once I achieve that, then I can start working with kids on their writing.
Would these be immensely rewarding? Yes. Would I be happy doing it for a very long time? Absolutely. Would I be able to get into it? Maybe. For me to complete my degree, I need to overcome whatever block is preventing me from doing my studies and go whole hog at completing it (preferably whist writing alongside it). From there, I should be able to find somewhere in the field I can snuggle myself into.
2. Video Game Scriptwriting
For those that don't know, I'm a massive geek. That's all you need to know. :P
On a more serious note though, being a huge gamer this would be one field that I would be very, very interested in. I feel strongly that the gaming industry is more concerned about pushing out a compelling story in favor of pretty graphics (something that I'm sure I"ll be writing a lot more about in the future), and I know that I can write a compelling story. Considering that scriptwriting is primarily about dialogue, this is one area I have a keen interest in.
It is the getting into the industry however, that is difficult. Australia doesn't have many game developers, and the biggest ones are hotly contested. I would need to seriously work on my skills in order to get myself with a company that would take me seriously. From there, I feel I could do well if I dedicated myself completely to the craft.
3. Technical Writing
This is one that has only recently shown up on my radar, courtesy of one of the wonderful ladies that I've met NaNoing (for those who NaNo, she's one of my Municipal Liaisons). Writing documentation and the like is something I know I can develop skills in (I've done stuff related to it in other endeavours), but the biggest question hanging over it is whether I have the skills initially to get myself off the ground. I can't say my last job was exactly spectacular for giving me self-confidence in my ability to pick up skills, but I'm at least willing to give it a solid go.
This one I'll probably mull over in-depth, as I want to be sure that I'm not going to flounder like a fish in water if I do decide to go for it.
4. Full-Time Author
This would be the...stereotypical path. Could I do it? Absolutely. Contrary to what some people believe I actually have a lot to say, and I could easily fill up the next X years doing nothing but write. To get there, I would first need to write something amazing (which is easy, right? :P), find an agent/editor to tell me it's not crap, and then successfully pitch it to a publisher. There may or may not be a hell of a lot more behind it, as this is an area I only have just started to lift the lid on.
However, this path would also be challenging for me (at least initially). I'm not someone who can simply sit and write thousands of lines every day of the year - I need some time to just chill out from my thoughts sometimes. I would need to jigger my way of thinking (and writing) to make sure I could sustain what I would need to do to be successful in this area. That being said, once I start getting published there are a range of other things I could jump into, but depends on me being able to get that book published.
So, what do I do?
The honest answer - I don't know. There's a lot to mull over, and a lot of avenues to explore. However, what I do know is that for the first time in god knows how long I have some direction in where I would like to end up.
And for that, I know that I can find a sense of purpose for myself again.
Also, any comments would be greatly appreciated. I like comments <3
For those who haven't been keeping tabs on me of late, it has been a little over 12 months since I stopped seeing my psychologist. I'm now living in Brisbane, between jobs, and up until recently have had zero idea what direction my life was going to take.
For those who have followed a path similar to mine, walking away from a degree you thought was certain to give you a stable career that you enjoyed is a really big deal. When I first went to Charles Sturt University to begin my teaching degree in 2007, I thought that at the end of my four years I'd end up working as a teacher of some description, that I would continue to do until I found something related that I would then enjoy to avoid burning myself out. However, the events of 2009 left me completely burned out, with the spark of teaching thoroughly extinguished. Since then, I have been left to figure out what path I should take.
For those mature-aged students who had the drive to chug themselves back through uni to get another degree, I tip my hat to you. It takes a pretty big pair of balls to drag yourself through that.
Personally, I could not put myself back through uni in the foreseeable future. I tried doing a subject this semester, but I hit a wall after the fourth week and couldn't commit myself to it. I'm not 100% certain what's stopping me, but even working with my psychologist we couldn't break it.
Since then, I've tried to get myself back on my feet, find a stable job and get myself to the point where I can find what I'm happy doing, and then go at it like a bull in a china shop.
Enter NaNoWriMo.
For those unfamiliar with it, National Novel Writing Month is four weeks of nothing but writing badly, giggling incessantly over cups of coffee, and having a great amount of fun and frustration at trying to put 50000 words down in a coherent fashion. This year I decided to tackle it for the first time. During my teenage years I had started a number of novels covering a broad range of genres (fantasy, speculative fiction, mystery), but have always lost motivation once the story gets going. I signed up for NaNo on the premise that I would find the motivation and support to drive a novel in full. Have I been successful thus far? Not exactly. However, what I have gained from the exercise (even though I'm only 9 days into it) has been of far greater benefit to myself than anything else in my memory.
Over the years, writing has been a mainstay of my life, usually floating somewhere just beyond the edge of my periphery. Up until year 11, there were points in my life where my writing ability shone through, but it wasn't ever something I seriously considered becoming involved in. In hindsight, I have no idea why. After one auspicious creative writing task in year 11 that had my high school's English department commending me on how far my writing had come, I began to consider myself as half-decent writer. Mostly, my writing has been very narrow in scope - dark speculative fiction in first-person POV that more often than not involves less-than-sane characters and nonexistent plot lines.
Having started (and restarted) my NaNo novel, I've discovered that I find it challenging to weave plots and create scenes for extended periods of time before my imagination gets the better of me (for those who've seen me write in progress, it usually involves lots of getting up and walking around randomly like a complete wanker). However, I am more or less completely comfortable with being able to just knock back words on a page (like this very blog post!). I think...that my challenge is to find a style of writing that suits my way of thinking, and build on it to the point where I can make the most use of it. I could happily spend the rest of my days writing I think if I can manage this.
If I want to write for a career, there are a few options that I can see myself safely doing:
1. Children's Literature Teaching/Workshops/Textbook Writing
Realisticly, this would best line up with my current education. To achieve this, I would need to first become a published author and/or complete my degree (although shift my subjects to a greater emphasis on English teaching). Once I achieve that, then I can start working with kids on their writing.
Would these be immensely rewarding? Yes. Would I be happy doing it for a very long time? Absolutely. Would I be able to get into it? Maybe. For me to complete my degree, I need to overcome whatever block is preventing me from doing my studies and go whole hog at completing it (preferably whist writing alongside it). From there, I should be able to find somewhere in the field I can snuggle myself into.
2. Video Game Scriptwriting
For those that don't know, I'm a massive geek. That's all you need to know. :P
On a more serious note though, being a huge gamer this would be one field that I would be very, very interested in. I feel strongly that the gaming industry is more concerned about pushing out a compelling story in favor of pretty graphics (something that I'm sure I"ll be writing a lot more about in the future), and I know that I can write a compelling story. Considering that scriptwriting is primarily about dialogue, this is one area I have a keen interest in.
It is the getting into the industry however, that is difficult. Australia doesn't have many game developers, and the biggest ones are hotly contested. I would need to seriously work on my skills in order to get myself with a company that would take me seriously. From there, I feel I could do well if I dedicated myself completely to the craft.
3. Technical Writing
This is one that has only recently shown up on my radar, courtesy of one of the wonderful ladies that I've met NaNoing (for those who NaNo, she's one of my Municipal Liaisons). Writing documentation and the like is something I know I can develop skills in (I've done stuff related to it in other endeavours), but the biggest question hanging over it is whether I have the skills initially to get myself off the ground. I can't say my last job was exactly spectacular for giving me self-confidence in my ability to pick up skills, but I'm at least willing to give it a solid go.
This one I'll probably mull over in-depth, as I want to be sure that I'm not going to flounder like a fish in water if I do decide to go for it.
4. Full-Time Author
This would be the...stereotypical path. Could I do it? Absolutely. Contrary to what some people believe I actually have a lot to say, and I could easily fill up the next X years doing nothing but write. To get there, I would first need to write something amazing (which is easy, right? :P), find an agent/editor to tell me it's not crap, and then successfully pitch it to a publisher. There may or may not be a hell of a lot more behind it, as this is an area I only have just started to lift the lid on.
However, this path would also be challenging for me (at least initially). I'm not someone who can simply sit and write thousands of lines every day of the year - I need some time to just chill out from my thoughts sometimes. I would need to jigger my way of thinking (and writing) to make sure I could sustain what I would need to do to be successful in this area. That being said, once I start getting published there are a range of other things I could jump into, but depends on me being able to get that book published.
So, what do I do?
The honest answer - I don't know. There's a lot to mull over, and a lot of avenues to explore. However, what I do know is that for the first time in god knows how long I have some direction in where I would like to end up.
And for that, I know that I can find a sense of purpose for myself again.
Also, any comments would be greatly appreciated. I like comments <3
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The Price of Altruism
Although I didn't expect to be writing about this so soon, sometimes the timing of certain events isn't quite so...eloquent. Tonight, I helped a suicidal person gain clarity on some of the issues plaguing him, and (hopefully) set them on the path back to truly living life. Sometimes, the greatest deeds are those that go unnoticed.
A forewarning - this blog post will be full-on and uncensored. Some people may see this as intense, depressing, and/or a myriad of other nice and not-so-nice things. I'm writing this so that people can understand why I have made some of the choices I have made, and that so people can hopefully discover a greater appreciation for those who live to help others.
This is about the night I saved a life.
It was two years ago. I was in my third year of university and I was teaching out of town. I ended up staying with a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless). We fell out of touch up until a few days before I started, and I only found out shortly before I started that it was because his parents had recently separated. While I was uncomfortable with the idea of jumping in on his life with something like that just happening, by the same token I would have been left with a lot of difficulty getting to/from where I was teaching. So, I went and stayed with him.
The first week and a half or so was pretty good. I serttled into the school I was at pretty comfortably (although I didn't do a lot of teaching because of assessments and events), things were clicking well where I was staying, and I was looking forward to really making the most of the five weeks I had. It wasn't until the end of the second week that things started to go downhill.
The first blow came from my mate's father. I don't know all the details, but things between them had deteriorated to the point where we were both kicked out of his house (it was in his father's name, so yeah). We were given two afternoons to move everything out of his house. We ended up having to live out of his mother's loungeroom (and to this day I wish I actually told her how much I appreciated her taking me in when she barely knew me and had no obligation to do so), and managed to get everything out of the house. This was difficult for my mate - I don't know what was going through his head at the time, but I know he needed a hug on at least one occasion.
The second blow was was from my supervisor. I was part of a research project at the university - part of which involved a evaluation of a live lesson (for my uni mates, this was Julie Lancaster's project - I was doing a differentiated lesson). The lesson itself was complex in the method of delivery. At the end of the lesson, the researcher appladued me for taking on what was ultimately a difficult lesson, and feedback on the whole was positive. My supervisor however had different ideas. This was the first full lesson she had observed - prior to that point I had either casual teachers supervising me or I had the class to myself. Ultimately, she put me as 'At Risk', and pushed me off on another supervisor who proceeded to treat me as the special case. It was crushing - I was more or less going completely back to basics and wasting my time on things that weren't doing anything except damaging my self-efficacy. It was difficult for me to work with a new class, but nonetheless I managed to balance it.
The third happened on a weekend. I had done the weekend back home for an event that I didn't end up attending for personal reasons. It was a Saturday night I headed back to where I was staying, and I discovered that it was a night of partying because close friends of my mate were down from Queensland, and it was the first time he'd seen them in ages.
The night went well until words were exchanged and egos were set alight. Then it all went downhill.
I wasn't in the room at the time when it all went down, but I was there for the fallout. It started with my mate and another person there, but it eventually grew to involve my mate's ex-gf. When you have three people with volatile tempers going off at the same time, it's bound to end badly.
This went on for well over an hour. Eventually, my mate's ex-gf ended up storming outside angry at my mate, my mate was getting aggressive with everyone, and the third person was ready to get violent with anyone (including me when I tried to step in and get everyone to back off).
The next events I remember vividly, as would anyone who has done what I did that night.
At one point, my mate's ex-gf was out the front by herself, quite depressed and upset. She asked me to go back inside and get her keys. Not finding them, I returned outside to find out she had disappeared. Telling my mate, we agreed to split up and search surrounding streets for her. I returned home after combing the streets and not finding her. He didn't.
I don't know what happened between them, but I'm reasonably certain he had either found her or contacted her. After being unable to get into contact with him via phone, a family friend who had stuck around after the blowup got in the car with me and we drove around searching for him. Unable to find him, we had just returned home when the family friend got a message on her phone from my mate. To paraphrase, it said "Please tell my daughter I love her and I'm sorry."
After calling the police and getting them around, my mate called me. He was on the train tracks, and was going to jump in front of the next train heading past. I spent the next few hours in a desperate attempt to try and get him to come around, while also trying to keep the police updated with information and everyone that was awake calm. We had the highway blocked off, and all trains cancelled. It was like a balancing act - the police were trying to get me to push him for information about where he was, but I also knew that it wasn't safe to do so because of how he was mentally. There were also several times he hung up on me, where I was left without any idea of whether I had any effect on him and where I simply had to hope.
Eventually, he called me and told me where he was. I went and picked him up, and after a short detour we ended up at the police station. There, I was given custody of him. I could not let him out of my sight, and was responsible for his wellbeing. At the time, I was only 20. To have that kind of responsibility for anyone can be challenging. I can only imagine what another person my age then would've done when given that choice. For me, that choice was always about what was in my mate's best interests. I had not slept, and it was the morning after before we left the police station. I had no sleep, but I was still repairing the damage from the night before the next day.
Looking back on that night, I can still feel what I was going through - the ever-present fear that I couldn't save a suicidal friend, the empathetic pain that numerous people were feeling behind the fight, the anxiety that every time he hung up was the last I would hear from him. These were all things I had to process after the event, and while trying to handle everything else going on at the time too. That's when things started to go downhill.
First it was his random leavings in the night (for reasons I won't go into here). These were kicks in the gut for me, especially when I woke up the next morning to find him gone and couldn't get into contact with him. Then it was the whole saga with his less-than-stable ex wanting back in on him and their child's life. I was trapped in a fishbowl - I had everything going on around me and had nobody to lean back on. I couldn't lean back on my mate even if he was better because I didn't know how much of his behaviour was him genuinely more positive and how much was a mask.
Breaking point came midway through the fourth week. The night before some sort of blow-up between my mate and his father resulted in me spending half the night disassembling things and shipping them back to his old house. This came at a cost of me preparing what I needed to prepare to teach the following morning. I walked into work that day with a feeling of dread, as I felt really bad for not being prepared even with extenuating circumstances having occured. Informing my supervisor of what happened, I was given a lecture on how everyone goes through hard phases and a spiel on another teacher who had to battle cancer.
That was where I broke. I was completely emotionally drained, I had little sleep and I was feeling worthless. I ended up walking out of where I was teaching that day. A week later, I left where I was staying, and a month later my mate and his ex-gf got back together and moved up to Queensland.
I was left to pick up the pieces and to try to reassemble myself. My mate cut off all contact with me shortly after moving, and didn't reestablish contact with me until a few weeks ago. My studies suffered, and ultimately I left the degree I was in. To this day I still don't know what I mean to my mate, whether I was simply someone in the right place at the right time, or if he really did care about me (although his mother said I was an angel sent by God). I was left completely emotionally trained, and I had to try and pick up the pieces myself. I was left to fight what I was feeling alone, and what stung the most was that I felt like the person whose life I saved didn't really give a damn about me. And yet, I had to live with that. This is the true price of altruism.
Given the same scenario, I would make the same decision in a heartbeat. Not because I know the outcome or because it's what people see as the right thing to do, but because I want to give someone a chance at life. What defines me as a person is nothing more than a deep-seated drive to help people - nothing more, nothing less. However, this comes at a cost. When you are giving so much to the people around you, often you aren't getting back what you're putting in. You become emotionally drained, and over time you can feel more and more stressed out and wound up trying to handle everything going on around you.
I won't lie - the events that happened in those weeks have left wounds that I'm still trying to heal from today. What people need to understand about anyone who gives a lot to other people is that they themselves can be fighting a lot of battles - just because they're helping you oesn't mean that you shouldn't make it known to them that you're there for them too. I wish it was a lesson I learned earlier. I am a tormented soul - there are demons so dark that it pains me to just think about them. There have been countless times where I've needed a hug and never gotten one, and there have been countless times where I've reached out to help someone only to be left baring wounds. These are things other people don't see, but they're the battles that take the greatest toll on me. Despite this, if anyone is in need I will always throw everything aside and do what I can to help them, even if it comes at a price.
Tonight, I gave someone guidance to stop considering taking their life and instead learn to live life again. Sometimes I wonder if other people put more or less thought into helping others, whether they put themselves before others and whether they need ulterior motives to act in such a way. The world we live in is becoming increasingly grey, and what people see as the right thing to do is become increasingly subjective. There are people out there who have been brought up in broken families and broken homes, people who have everything material but nothing emotional.
For some people, the gift of life is the greatest thing you can give them.
A forewarning - this blog post will be full-on and uncensored. Some people may see this as intense, depressing, and/or a myriad of other nice and not-so-nice things. I'm writing this so that people can understand why I have made some of the choices I have made, and that so people can hopefully discover a greater appreciation for those who live to help others.
This is about the night I saved a life.
It was two years ago. I was in my third year of university and I was teaching out of town. I ended up staying with a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless). We fell out of touch up until a few days before I started, and I only found out shortly before I started that it was because his parents had recently separated. While I was uncomfortable with the idea of jumping in on his life with something like that just happening, by the same token I would have been left with a lot of difficulty getting to/from where I was teaching. So, I went and stayed with him.
The first week and a half or so was pretty good. I serttled into the school I was at pretty comfortably (although I didn't do a lot of teaching because of assessments and events), things were clicking well where I was staying, and I was looking forward to really making the most of the five weeks I had. It wasn't until the end of the second week that things started to go downhill.
The first blow came from my mate's father. I don't know all the details, but things between them had deteriorated to the point where we were both kicked out of his house (it was in his father's name, so yeah). We were given two afternoons to move everything out of his house. We ended up having to live out of his mother's loungeroom (and to this day I wish I actually told her how much I appreciated her taking me in when she barely knew me and had no obligation to do so), and managed to get everything out of the house. This was difficult for my mate - I don't know what was going through his head at the time, but I know he needed a hug on at least one occasion.
The second blow was was from my supervisor. I was part of a research project at the university - part of which involved a evaluation of a live lesson (for my uni mates, this was Julie Lancaster's project - I was doing a differentiated lesson). The lesson itself was complex in the method of delivery. At the end of the lesson, the researcher appladued me for taking on what was ultimately a difficult lesson, and feedback on the whole was positive. My supervisor however had different ideas. This was the first full lesson she had observed - prior to that point I had either casual teachers supervising me or I had the class to myself. Ultimately, she put me as 'At Risk', and pushed me off on another supervisor who proceeded to treat me as the special case. It was crushing - I was more or less going completely back to basics and wasting my time on things that weren't doing anything except damaging my self-efficacy. It was difficult for me to work with a new class, but nonetheless I managed to balance it.
The third happened on a weekend. I had done the weekend back home for an event that I didn't end up attending for personal reasons. It was a Saturday night I headed back to where I was staying, and I discovered that it was a night of partying because close friends of my mate were down from Queensland, and it was the first time he'd seen them in ages.
The night went well until words were exchanged and egos were set alight. Then it all went downhill.
I wasn't in the room at the time when it all went down, but I was there for the fallout. It started with my mate and another person there, but it eventually grew to involve my mate's ex-gf. When you have three people with volatile tempers going off at the same time, it's bound to end badly.
This went on for well over an hour. Eventually, my mate's ex-gf ended up storming outside angry at my mate, my mate was getting aggressive with everyone, and the third person was ready to get violent with anyone (including me when I tried to step in and get everyone to back off).
The next events I remember vividly, as would anyone who has done what I did that night.
At one point, my mate's ex-gf was out the front by herself, quite depressed and upset. She asked me to go back inside and get her keys. Not finding them, I returned outside to find out she had disappeared. Telling my mate, we agreed to split up and search surrounding streets for her. I returned home after combing the streets and not finding her. He didn't.
I don't know what happened between them, but I'm reasonably certain he had either found her or contacted her. After being unable to get into contact with him via phone, a family friend who had stuck around after the blowup got in the car with me and we drove around searching for him. Unable to find him, we had just returned home when the family friend got a message on her phone from my mate. To paraphrase, it said "Please tell my daughter I love her and I'm sorry."
After calling the police and getting them around, my mate called me. He was on the train tracks, and was going to jump in front of the next train heading past. I spent the next few hours in a desperate attempt to try and get him to come around, while also trying to keep the police updated with information and everyone that was awake calm. We had the highway blocked off, and all trains cancelled. It was like a balancing act - the police were trying to get me to push him for information about where he was, but I also knew that it wasn't safe to do so because of how he was mentally. There were also several times he hung up on me, where I was left without any idea of whether I had any effect on him and where I simply had to hope.
Eventually, he called me and told me where he was. I went and picked him up, and after a short detour we ended up at the police station. There, I was given custody of him. I could not let him out of my sight, and was responsible for his wellbeing. At the time, I was only 20. To have that kind of responsibility for anyone can be challenging. I can only imagine what another person my age then would've done when given that choice. For me, that choice was always about what was in my mate's best interests. I had not slept, and it was the morning after before we left the police station. I had no sleep, but I was still repairing the damage from the night before the next day.
Looking back on that night, I can still feel what I was going through - the ever-present fear that I couldn't save a suicidal friend, the empathetic pain that numerous people were feeling behind the fight, the anxiety that every time he hung up was the last I would hear from him. These were all things I had to process after the event, and while trying to handle everything else going on at the time too. That's when things started to go downhill.
First it was his random leavings in the night (for reasons I won't go into here). These were kicks in the gut for me, especially when I woke up the next morning to find him gone and couldn't get into contact with him. Then it was the whole saga with his less-than-stable ex wanting back in on him and their child's life. I was trapped in a fishbowl - I had everything going on around me and had nobody to lean back on. I couldn't lean back on my mate even if he was better because I didn't know how much of his behaviour was him genuinely more positive and how much was a mask.
Breaking point came midway through the fourth week. The night before some sort of blow-up between my mate and his father resulted in me spending half the night disassembling things and shipping them back to his old house. This came at a cost of me preparing what I needed to prepare to teach the following morning. I walked into work that day with a feeling of dread, as I felt really bad for not being prepared even with extenuating circumstances having occured. Informing my supervisor of what happened, I was given a lecture on how everyone goes through hard phases and a spiel on another teacher who had to battle cancer.
That was where I broke. I was completely emotionally drained, I had little sleep and I was feeling worthless. I ended up walking out of where I was teaching that day. A week later, I left where I was staying, and a month later my mate and his ex-gf got back together and moved up to Queensland.
I was left to pick up the pieces and to try to reassemble myself. My mate cut off all contact with me shortly after moving, and didn't reestablish contact with me until a few weeks ago. My studies suffered, and ultimately I left the degree I was in. To this day I still don't know what I mean to my mate, whether I was simply someone in the right place at the right time, or if he really did care about me (although his mother said I was an angel sent by God). I was left completely emotionally trained, and I had to try and pick up the pieces myself. I was left to fight what I was feeling alone, and what stung the most was that I felt like the person whose life I saved didn't really give a damn about me. And yet, I had to live with that. This is the true price of altruism.
Given the same scenario, I would make the same decision in a heartbeat. Not because I know the outcome or because it's what people see as the right thing to do, but because I want to give someone a chance at life. What defines me as a person is nothing more than a deep-seated drive to help people - nothing more, nothing less. However, this comes at a cost. When you are giving so much to the people around you, often you aren't getting back what you're putting in. You become emotionally drained, and over time you can feel more and more stressed out and wound up trying to handle everything going on around you.
I won't lie - the events that happened in those weeks have left wounds that I'm still trying to heal from today. What people need to understand about anyone who gives a lot to other people is that they themselves can be fighting a lot of battles - just because they're helping you oesn't mean that you shouldn't make it known to them that you're there for them too. I wish it was a lesson I learned earlier. I am a tormented soul - there are demons so dark that it pains me to just think about them. There have been countless times where I've needed a hug and never gotten one, and there have been countless times where I've reached out to help someone only to be left baring wounds. These are things other people don't see, but they're the battles that take the greatest toll on me. Despite this, if anyone is in need I will always throw everything aside and do what I can to help them, even if it comes at a price.
Tonight, I gave someone guidance to stop considering taking their life and instead learn to live life again. Sometimes I wonder if other people put more or less thought into helping others, whether they put themselves before others and whether they need ulterior motives to act in such a way. The world we live in is becoming increasingly grey, and what people see as the right thing to do is become increasingly subjective. There are people out there who have been brought up in broken families and broken homes, people who have everything material but nothing emotional.
For some people, the gift of life is the greatest thing you can give them.
Monday, February 14, 2011
30 Days, 30 Memories
One week ago I decided to jump in on the 30 Day Song Challenge. It wasn't to brag about my taste in music (which admittedly has been described by several people as 'awful'), nor to seek attention. I joined it as an avenue to express myself.
Sometimes the most innocent things can have roots that run much deeper. Take for example a girl who buys a copy of The Big Issue on her way to work every month. To passersby, it looks like she' simply helping out a guy on the street. Perhaps she's a 'philanthropist', or perhaps 'she simply wants to help out those less fortunate'. Others around her might see her as simply a good person.
Consider for a moment then, that perhaps she was only homeless herself six months ago, three months ago, last month. She might be buying a magazine from her brother or sister. Maybe she herself is on the brink of being homeless once again. There are many battles that a person faces that the rest of the world is blind to seeing - this is why I place so much importance on being open and friendly to other people; you never know what battles they are facing.
Sometimes, the battles a person faces cause them to become withdrawn. While internalizing everything can be a good coping mechanism for coming to terms with whatever they are trying to deal with, it also makes it more difficult for other people to understand what's going on and thus give them the support they need. It is these deepest moments of personal reflection and understanding that it is most important for one to express themselves so that people can understand where they're coming from. If I'm being honest to myself, the reason I started this blog was to be able to express myself, not for glory or self-glorification or any kind of attention seeking.
For the 30 day song challenge, it's become a very...reflective exercise for me. Therapeutic in a way I suppose. Music for me is a genre where I can connect emotionally to the world around me - particularly through the lyrics. From this first week alone I've walked through some of my happiest moments, as well as my darkest ones.
These are my songs from the first seven days of the challenge:
Day 01 - Your faovurite song
Emilie Autumn - Opheliac
This is the song that first got me hooked on EA. She is a spectacular artist, being able to broach serious personal challenges such as bipolar disorder, rape and depression with dark humor and a lyrics that are raw and poignant.
Opheliac is one of those songs that manages to combine intense lyrics with an almost sadistically playful melody. The overall effect is something that reminds me of a chucky doll - cute on the surface but hiding something so much more sinister beneath.
Day 02 - Your least favourite song
Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up
Unfortunately, I wish I could say that there was some hidden meaning behind choosing this song. There isn't though - I just hate listening to it :P. If I was to put more into this I could probably choose a Pink song for reminding me about my ex, but that's neither here nor there.
Day 03 - A song that makes you happy
Daft Punk - Technologic
I'm very much a thinker - although you can't always see it, I spend a lot of time contemplating a range of things. One of the most important things I've learned is that sometimes you just have to put everything to one side and spend time doing nothing other than existing.
For me, this song represents that. There's no intense, thought-provoking lyrics. There is no soul-resonating melody, or muse-like vocals. No, there's nothing else other than a catchy tune. Sometimes, that's all we need.
Day 04 - A song that makes you sad
Evergrey - Broken Wings
This was a difficult day to find an appropriate song for, because 'sad' to me is a very generic emotion that often can be better described. In the end, I could think of a song that managed to fulfill 'sad'. Angry, hurt, envious, wistful, isolated, despairing...but not sad.
This song for me is a very strong reminder of the price I've paid in giving my all in being there for other people and helping them when they're doing it tough. There have been a number of people in my life who have just leeched from me time and time again, but haven't been there for me when I've needed it. This kind of one-way street is something I'm working hard to try and change. The price of altruism is a great one, and you can't always give everything to everyone when they need you - sometimes, you need people around you who are willing to be there for you when you're doing it tough. I haven't found that network of people yet, but I'm still trying.
Day 05 - A song that reminds you of someone
Emilie Autumn - Shalott
Danny Danny Danny, what a clusterfuck of a life you had when I jumped smack bang in the middle of it. Although you're an extrovert, a party animal and many other things besides, this song reminds me so much of you when you were doing it tough. While you always have on this macho, alpha-male facade, deep down you're a rather sensitive guy. You need to think less about how other people see you and just do what makes you happy.
Day 06 - A song that reminds you of somewhere
Epica - Solitary Ground (Remix)
For this day, I went with a more metaphorical somewhere rather than a physical one. For those who've noticed me become absent-minded and withdrawn, when things are tough I often disappear into the depths of my own mind. ALthough it's difficult to explain, somewhere in there is a place where I feel secure despite what's going on around me - an eye to a storm if you will.
The reason why I went with the remixed version of this song is because it tends to match that real tempest I feel when a lot of things are coming down on me at once.
Day - 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain event
Nightwish - Nemo
One day two years ago, I saved a life. It was a series of events that ultimately caused me to walk away from where I was teaching, my university degree, and so much more. It left me a shadow of myself, and a whole lot of other things besides.
I feel the time to tell this story is coming soon. For now though, it's not yet right.
Sometimes the most innocent things can have roots that run much deeper. Take for example a girl who buys a copy of The Big Issue on her way to work every month. To passersby, it looks like she' simply helping out a guy on the street. Perhaps she's a 'philanthropist', or perhaps 'she simply wants to help out those less fortunate'. Others around her might see her as simply a good person.
Consider for a moment then, that perhaps she was only homeless herself six months ago, three months ago, last month. She might be buying a magazine from her brother or sister. Maybe she herself is on the brink of being homeless once again. There are many battles that a person faces that the rest of the world is blind to seeing - this is why I place so much importance on being open and friendly to other people; you never know what battles they are facing.
Sometimes, the battles a person faces cause them to become withdrawn. While internalizing everything can be a good coping mechanism for coming to terms with whatever they are trying to deal with, it also makes it more difficult for other people to understand what's going on and thus give them the support they need. It is these deepest moments of personal reflection and understanding that it is most important for one to express themselves so that people can understand where they're coming from. If I'm being honest to myself, the reason I started this blog was to be able to express myself, not for glory or self-glorification or any kind of attention seeking.
For the 30 day song challenge, it's become a very...reflective exercise for me. Therapeutic in a way I suppose. Music for me is a genre where I can connect emotionally to the world around me - particularly through the lyrics. From this first week alone I've walked through some of my happiest moments, as well as my darkest ones.
These are my songs from the first seven days of the challenge:
Day 01 - Your faovurite song
Emilie Autumn - Opheliac
This is the song that first got me hooked on EA. She is a spectacular artist, being able to broach serious personal challenges such as bipolar disorder, rape and depression with dark humor and a lyrics that are raw and poignant.
Opheliac is one of those songs that manages to combine intense lyrics with an almost sadistically playful melody. The overall effect is something that reminds me of a chucky doll - cute on the surface but hiding something so much more sinister beneath.
Day 02 - Your least favourite song
Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up
Unfortunately, I wish I could say that there was some hidden meaning behind choosing this song. There isn't though - I just hate listening to it :P. If I was to put more into this I could probably choose a Pink song for reminding me about my ex, but that's neither here nor there.
Day 03 - A song that makes you happy
Daft Punk - Technologic
I'm very much a thinker - although you can't always see it, I spend a lot of time contemplating a range of things. One of the most important things I've learned is that sometimes you just have to put everything to one side and spend time doing nothing other than existing.
For me, this song represents that. There's no intense, thought-provoking lyrics. There is no soul-resonating melody, or muse-like vocals. No, there's nothing else other than a catchy tune. Sometimes, that's all we need.
Day 04 - A song that makes you sad
Evergrey - Broken Wings
This was a difficult day to find an appropriate song for, because 'sad' to me is a very generic emotion that often can be better described. In the end, I could think of a song that managed to fulfill 'sad'. Angry, hurt, envious, wistful, isolated, despairing...but not sad.
This song for me is a very strong reminder of the price I've paid in giving my all in being there for other people and helping them when they're doing it tough. There have been a number of people in my life who have just leeched from me time and time again, but haven't been there for me when I've needed it. This kind of one-way street is something I'm working hard to try and change. The price of altruism is a great one, and you can't always give everything to everyone when they need you - sometimes, you need people around you who are willing to be there for you when you're doing it tough. I haven't found that network of people yet, but I'm still trying.
Day 05 - A song that reminds you of someone
Emilie Autumn - Shalott
Danny Danny Danny, what a clusterfuck of a life you had when I jumped smack bang in the middle of it. Although you're an extrovert, a party animal and many other things besides, this song reminds me so much of you when you were doing it tough. While you always have on this macho, alpha-male facade, deep down you're a rather sensitive guy. You need to think less about how other people see you and just do what makes you happy.
Day 06 - A song that reminds you of somewhere
Epica - Solitary Ground (Remix)
For this day, I went with a more metaphorical somewhere rather than a physical one. For those who've noticed me become absent-minded and withdrawn, when things are tough I often disappear into the depths of my own mind. ALthough it's difficult to explain, somewhere in there is a place where I feel secure despite what's going on around me - an eye to a storm if you will.
The reason why I went with the remixed version of this song is because it tends to match that real tempest I feel when a lot of things are coming down on me at once.
Day - 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain event
Nightwish - Nemo
One day two years ago, I saved a life. It was a series of events that ultimately caused me to walk away from where I was teaching, my university degree, and so much more. It left me a shadow of myself, and a whole lot of other things besides.
I feel the time to tell this story is coming soon. For now though, it's not yet right.
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