Person in the Mirror

Reflections on the life of Weejars

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The rock

Humbly they sit
In the water flow
Withstanding the current
Or undertow.

Brown, grey or black
smooth or rough
They’re strong and well-known
For being tough.

As water gushes by
To a destination ahead
The rock stands firm
Holding their place instead.

The challenge you see
Is not sink or swim
It’s stay and be moulded
By the courage within.

I wish to know more
About its story
It’s a journey of love
And not of glory.

I looked a little closer
And I saw a crack
And realised all the things
It was holding back.

I asked the rock
If it was okay
And it said to me,
‘I do this every day.

I take whatever comes
Down stream
I stand my ground
I dare to dream.

I am unique
In every way
I choose to fight
I choose to stay.

I am the rock
I am the one
Who’ll be here ’til
The job is done.’

I thanked the rock
For teaching me
A lesson
in humility.

Without the rock
To bear the load
The water’s path
Is an undefined road.

And when the water’s
All gone away
In the riverbed the
Rocks will stay.


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Silence sounds like…

I stopped a moment today,
To try and clear my head.
I took some time to observe the silence,
But then I realized I was the only one who was quiet.

Silence is not silent at all.
It is the spring breeze rustling the leaves on trees. Different leaves on different trees whispering different tunes.

Birds chirping and chirruping, trying to out do one another with their coo, but the kookaburra reigning supreme with his maniacal laugh.

The frogs singing in the reeds by a river urgently scuttling over pebbles and rocks, heading to a destination downstream.

A dog barking in the distance and the rumble of trucks hurtling down the highway.

The mosquito buzzing near my ear
(And the sound of clapping hands together. Gotcha!)

The whispering blades of grass too long
The jibber jabber of a radio somewhere.
My own thoughts, pensive and tumbling as I sip on my beer.

Just because you shut your mouth, doesn’t mean it’s quiet. And perhaps when you stop, you realise what a busy place this world is without you contributing to it.


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Person in the picture

I have spent this evening looking through old photographs and was struck by how I barely recognise myself. Not because I don’t look the same but because of the ‘joie de vivre’ that is distinctly lacking from my current-day photos… It made me sad

Who is this person
In the picture that I see
Surely this person
Cannot be me.

With a sparkle in her eye
And mischief in her face
A smile that seems so
Hard to erase.

Full of life and happy
Always captured mid-laugh
She lives life to the full
Doesn’t do things by half.

Confident and fearless
Leaping before she looks
She’s never one to play any
Thing by the books.

To people she’s a magnet
Drawing one and all
She never lacks for company
Her life a constant ball.

Certain of her direction
And following her dreams
Luck is on her side
Silver lining in her seams.

She’s the one who makes things happen
So exciting all the while
If you’re down, she’ll save you
And disarm you with her smile.

To others she seems magical
So powerful and brave
I’m sure they don’t realise
That deep down it’s a charade.

I want to be this person
She is everything I’m not
I used to be just like her
But some how I got lost.

Who is this person
In the picture that I see.
My tears are falling
For who I used to be.

The me I used to be…





Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.
~Mark Twain, Pudd’nhead Wilson, 1894

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Three things – Saturday 27 October

So it’s been a while since I have posted in this category – it’s been a pretty rough couple of weeks and I’ve found it hard to show gratitude (bad, I know but depression is like that)

This is a ‘three things’ with a difference in that it’s a video with the three things I love most in this world…my lil family

Click HERE

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What is the point of trying
Why bother going on
Trudging through life so empty
When all the hope is gone.

I’m staring at a future
That’s not where I want to be
I try to keep eyes forward
But it’s impossible to see.

I don’t know what to do now
My life plan a disaster
Directionless, despairing
I’m a ship without a master.

Steering on a course
That’s unchartered and unclear
Uncertainty, my companion
A slave to my fear.

There is nothing left inside of me
I am but just a shell
Not living, just existing
This futility, is hell.

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The weighting game

Pick a weight between 54 and 90kgs and I’ve been there. I am the ultimate yo-yo.
My wardrobe has reached critical mass – bulging at the seams from having to cater for size 10 through to 16.

At the moment, I am at the heavier end of my continually sliding weight-scale and I can’t seem to get a handle on getting it down again. I’m at my wits end about it as it really affecting my self esteem.

Through my teens and early twenties, I was the chubby girl. I wasn’t overweight, just a little more rounded than I needed to be. I joined Weight Watchers at a start weight of 74kgs. According to my BMI, I was six kgs too heavy for my healthy weight range. Weight Watchers worked. Too well. When I got married ten years ago, I weighed a mere 54kg. Tiny. Actually, for my frame and build, too tiny. Looking back on that time now, I think I actually had an eating disorder. I physically felt sick at the thought of food and abused laxatives to ‘cleanse’ myself of anything ‘bad’ that I ate. I relished in getting smaller and smaller and having the clothes hang off my body.

Throughout my married life, my weight would fluctuate between 54 and 68kgs. I was unhappy and my life wasn’t going the way I’d planned. In 2006, I finally left my husband and started my life over. I took up smoking to deal with the stress and again, my weight plummeted.

I became a good-time-girl. Drinking, partying, smoking and I was out of control. But as long as I was having fun, I didn’t give a damn. It was almost as if I needed to see how far I could push it, how far could I go and still wake up the next day. For the first time in my life, I paid no attention to my diet and looked the best I ever have. In direct contrast to my emotional and mental turmoil, my weight was finally something I was happy with.

Then in 2008, I got back on track. Realised the self-harm and risk taking behaviour was only affecting me. So I stopped smoking, started eating healthy and exercising. And the weight piled on.

When I met the love of my life in 2009, I weighed in at 80kgs. It p*sses me off because I was eating right and exercising and at that weight?! What was going on?! I truly believe the smoking messed up my metabolism and owe that 15kg increase to giving it up. Misery.

In 2011, I fell pregnant. And miscarried. Thus began a long battle with depression and comfort eating. I would look at myself photos and cringe with disgust at my size. Finally, in September, something snapped. 90kgs! I could have cried! I did cry! I managed to lose 15kgs and was so much happier when I fell pregnant again in March 2012. But again, I miscarried.

Since May, I have steadily been putting all the weight back on as I grapple with this overwhelming depression and sense of hopelessness and failure. I feel like food is the only thing that gives me any stability and comfort. The things I expected to bring me joy have only brought me sorrow and pain. I don’t know how to get ‘back’.

When I consider all the aspects of my life, I feel overwhelmed and powerless to act and change the things I don’t like. It’s like the weight is literally bearing on my shoulders and keeping me down. I’m tired of this battle and tired of the weighting game…

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Today would have been…

…my last day of work before going on maternity leave 😥

I am still struggling daily with the loss of a future so dearly wanted and the enormous grief of enduring a present I don’t wish to be in.

Monday is truly the first day of my ‘sliding doors’ alternate future. Except I didn’t choose it. My reality is one I am powerless to change.

People say you can’t dwell on the ‘what-might-have-beens’. They have clearly, never lost a child. A small part of myself died the day I lost my second little one…hope.