Singular person

This is my book. It is advertised on my website. It is in the Redcliffe Library. I’ve lodged it with the State Library and the National Library. I’m on Amazonsite. I’ve been to the Enoggera Writer’s Festival, I joined the North Lakes Writer’s Group, and I had thought of starting a Redcliffe group. This morning I had an email from the Avid Reader Bookstore who talk about the “Summer reading guide launch”.  Sounds like a very good thing… but I have no idea if I can get there. 

Have I done enough “work”?

Three years ago I wrote a blog called “Finding Me”. Earlier in 2012 I lost my grandchildren – their mother took them back to New Zealand without telling me. Yet I still knew that I had “a wonderful husband – much luckier second time around, I wasted so much life on the first time.”

He left me in January 2013.  

I loved my job. I wrote about that in the same blog. I had “a job I enjoy and a (mostly) good boss”, yet after 7 years there, only 2 months after I had my brain aneurysm diagnosed, my “good boss” fired me.

That was in September 2013.

I wrote that “one day in the not too distant future I will have found for myself a road to take that

doesn’t entail dead ends but leads instead to who I was born to be.” This doesn’t sound real these days. What did I mean by that?

It’s 1 year and 7 months since my surgery and my stroke. I have moved twice since I got out of hospital because it was considered that I would need to be closer to my daughter. Big mistake. I live on my own, with my dog, and with virtually no visitors. Sometimes I feel like I have drifted off this planet, my home is out on an island which no-one can reach. I don’t get to talk to anyone unless I get in my car and go somewhere. Friday mornings are good as I am volunteering for the local Art Gallery. I get to talk to one person. I have a lovely group of friends in New Zealand whom I have known for nearly 15 years. I visited them in Auckland 2 years ago. I love them. They follow me on Facebook, yet I don’t really get to actually talk to them while I am living in Brisbane.

Here, I can’t remember “friends” I had when I was married – and I am forgetting most people I met 3 years ago. Most of the people I contact now came into my life after my surgery. Very few of them will contact me on Facebook, and their lives are tied up with their own family and friends who live close to them. They are lovely people and I do love them, but I need someone like that in my own life.

Ten days ago I wrote “Still waiting”. It seems to me that how I felt then seems to be my usual life now. “One day in the not too distant future I will have found for myself a road to take that doesn’t entail dead ends but leads instead to who I was born to be.” Even though I wrote this in November 2012, I think so often about it. Waiting, for a person who lives just alone, can definitely take over their life. I am still standing at the crossroad, waiting for the two issues which have logged up my entire life this year – citizenship and QIRC. I have no idea how I will turn out when they finally finish. Yet, now, I have no funds, I can’t finish my second book, and I get very, very depressed.

Have you actually read this? Thank you.Would you like to buy my book? Email me. Talk to me.

I really need people.