empty and alone in a crowded room. (P.S it's Christmas!)

It's that time of year again; Santa hats, tinsel and wrapping paper comes out, bank accounts get significantly emptier, and all we're left with is a belly ache and an album full of awkward family photos.

Two years ago I was drinking beer on chairlifts and zooming down mountains on my snowboard with two of my best friends in Canada.

Last year I was skyping my family from Melbourne (stuck there as a prisoner to the retail world) and later got drunk on the empty bars along Chapel St, sporting an incredible hangover during Boxing Day sales.

This year I am home again.

It will never ever feel like Christmas without my Dad but I’m happy to be back.

Though, I realized something upsetting today; My family is so incredibly damaged by everything that has happened to them, that, no matter how much they try to front it, they never can really enjoy something, like Christmas, for simply what it is.

Nothing distracts them from what is missing.

I think its okay to miss them. I miss my Dad every single day.

But I never, ever, ever, ever let it get in the way of my happiness. In fact, my having a happy and incredible life is a testament to him and how he raised me.

This Christmas, the 5^th since my Dads been gone, we had a small collection of family here at the family house.

The days are long gone when the entire set comes over. My beautiful father was undoubtedly the glue that held us together, kept the peace and made us laugh.

Before Heaven unfairly took my Dad away from us, Christmas was a hilarious and fun day that I looked forward too. We would always spend it at my Nana and Pa's house, which is a beautiful big house in the hills behind Byron Bay, with a big swimming pool which we would surround all day, eat ourselves stupid, and at night it was always a tradition that we would all play kelly pool laughing and reminiscing together.

The years following his death, we tried to carry on, but without my Dad, who was the most charismatic of us all, nobody’s heart is truly in it, and by dinnertime, everyone is just exhausted, like any old day.

Today was a step forward I guess, however small. We played kelly pool again for the first time since dad was here. By the end of it, everyone was having fun, but I just felt like it was forced to begin with. Things just used to fall into place.

I love my family. I do.

But I think they are too damaged to ever really enjoy days like this properly and that makes me sad. Even me, the strongest of us all, I’ll always have that empty feeling. It’s like every family get-together we have is a memorial of some sort. 

I don't want that.

There was one moment tonight, all 9 of us in the pool room, laughing at some of our rubbish pool skills and the banter being thrown around as it always used too between Dad and my uncles. I thought to myself, if there was ever a time when I should feel Dad around me, it should be now.

Its Christmas and here we all are.

So where are you Dad?

I don’t understand how I hear all these stories of people being able to sense their lost loved ones around them.

It’s not fair that I can’t see you, hear you or even feel you around me.

I’m so sick of being alone and feeling like I don’t have anyone. Everyone else in the family has their immediate family to go home to tonight. All my friends who come home for the holidays have their own bed to sleep in when they come home, I get a couch at various extended families living rooms. Dad, you were my only immediate family and you’ve left me alone. I’m so sick of being alone. It’s fucking not fair. Of all the parents and kids of anyone I’ve ever known, we were the closest and you meant more to me than any of their relationships. You were all I had. It’s not fair that I’m the one out of everyone that lost everything.

You left me 5 years ago and I’ve been alone ever since.

It’s just empty space all around me and always has been.

I’ve pushed away all my grief and sadness for nearly 5 years. It’s been so long that I don’t think I’ll ever really get that sad because I’m so good at being happy.

Am I meant to be sad to be able to sense you around me?

I don’t want to be sad. I just want the comfort of knowing I’m not alone.

Just in case the world ends; My last 351 days.

17/12/12

As the end of 2012 tiptoes closer and closer (as well as the end of humanity if you so believe) it has me thinking about how the last 351 days have played out.
(Wow, it doesn’t really hit how short a year is until I see it in days. It’s incredible just how much can change over and over again 351 days)

I like thinking about what has happened to me. I like reflecting; thinking about what happened, why it happened, what I learned, whether or not I changed because of the lesson, what I achieved and where I went terribly, terribly wrong.

I like trying to figure out why things happened and what I was supposed to take away from such events or people. Call me cliché, but I honestly think everything happens for a reason. That is to say, I think every single person that walks through your life is there for you to take something out of or your there for them. Think about how many people there are that have made a difference in your life. I know in mine, no matter how small, there’s hundreds! And some of those people I might not even be friends with, they are just people that have said or done something to make me think. 
Now think about all those people who you think might not have affected you at all; you are probably one of the ones who have made them think.
 
Whether or not everyone agrees with that little theory, it can’t be denied that it’s a nice thought; we all matter to someone.

I learned a lot of lessons this year that’s for sure! 
2012, its safe to say you kicked my ass!

One was that my sisters and brother are my number ones. I obviously knew this already, but 2012 bought us closer than we’ve been for 11 years.

I spent the better half of the year living with my little sister, Holly, who joined me in Melbourne immediately after her 18^th birthday in February. We hadn’t lived with each other since I left my mothers home at 11 years old, so we were making up for lost time. We became so close, and she has now gone from the little sister I loved but saw only once every two years, to my best friend. Our personalities are so different, but I can always count on her. I’ve also become closer to my brother Jye and my littlest sister, Georgia, mostly thanks to Holly. 

One of the not-so-nice realizations this year was just how alone I am in terms of family. Sure, mines big. But as far as immediate family go, I'm flying solo.

Except for Jye, Hol and George.  <3

Another lesson was learned the hard way.

I made the mistake of tricking myself into thinking that I had fallen for someone that I hadn’t, just because we were spending so much time together, and 6 months later it blew up in my face when it turned out he had a girlfriend the entire time.
I shouldn’t have let it go on that long when I knew from the start it would be a waste of time.

I learnt that when it comes to first impressions, I'm fairly spot on. 

But when it comes to remembering first impressions, I lose out, every time.
Oh yes, lesson well and truly learned.

There was so many more, and they just keep on coming...
 

I was on the phone to my aunt a few hours ago, and she told me that I would be mad not to come back from our Bali trip not a little shaken, and its normal for my state of mind to be a little off.

I certainly haven't been myself lately.

Since coming back, Melbourne life has gone from bad, to worst. I am writing this from one of my good friends lounge rooms, where I am sleeping at the moment. I have been homeless for nearly three weeks now. And close to jobless for nearly 2 months.
Being in a bad state of mind is what, at the end of the day, caused me to get fired. (I’m not an idiot, obviously excessive drinking is what really did it, but that what solicited out of character behavior was me acting out to something I didn’t even know was happening in my head at the time)

I almost lost it in uni; thank god I (semi) pulled it together by the time the semester ended, but I was so fucking close to fucking everything up. I lost my focus, I couldn’t think straight when trying to study. The only thing that got me through is the fact that I gave up everything I had to study what I am and I want, so badly, to get where I want to go. I somehow pulled it together and got through, in no way as well as I would have, had I been myself, but got through nonetheless.

My state of mind is still out of sorts. So much that I’ve decided to go home to Byron Bay for the summer.

One of my best friends is convinced I am running away, which might be true. But I can’t see myself fixing the mess I’ve created by not being able to deal with very real feelings. 

I think its time to be proactive and take myself out of Melbourne and go home to give my mind, body and soul a break – those three things are worth more than anything I am leaving behind in Melbourne.
 

When I return in 2013, at least I’ll be back to my old self; strong, happy and free; Tara as she should be.

act yo age gurrrl.

So, as I've mentioned before, there is pages and pages of writing on my laptop. 
About anything and everything.
Sometimes I find entire word documents with just a sentence of something I noticed that day, it's ridiculous really.


I found this rather long one the other day though, which I no doubt meant to post as its so detailed, but probably didn't due to the fact that I was still a mess and there is heavy reference to me getting fired - not exactly something you want to share with the world right away.


Here's what went through my head in amongst it all;
(I'm unsure of the date, usually I'm a very good girl at dating my typed up crap but not this time... so start of November-ish)


 ***

I’ve been a mess in the past month.

Lets start from the start…. (Mostly for me to piece together a friends theory as to what the hell happened to me this year?)

When I was 18 I had to grow up pretty damn quick.

One minute I was living at home, carefree and loving life. The next my sole caretaker and loving father was killed by a heartless pig of a man.

As his only child, I was smothered by overbearing family members (with hearts of gold!) and wanting nothing more than to make my own way and not need anyone.

A sense of independence came over me almost instantly and I psychologically stepped away from my family and began building my new life, on my own, restricted to myself, and the relationship I was in at the time.

I didn’t want help from anyone, and to be fair, didn’t really need it. I was a strong little fucker.

By the time I was 19, I had hit mental maturity beyond my friends. Looking back, I was only focused on work then, I hardly ever drank and when I did it wasn’t much.

I was focused and (semi)clear headed.

By this time my boyfriend and I had moved back into the apartment I grew up in, just the two of us.

My sister Holly calls it the days when I was married.

I had a stable job, was quickly eager to step higher in the fashion industry faster. I knew what I wanted and I wanted it fast. By the time I was 20 I was managing my own store for a big fashion retail chain.

Most people I met thought I was older. My friends outside my boyfriends and my immediate friends circle were generally older, most didn’t even know my age for months and were shocked to find out I was just a baby.

I remember being 19, and one of the girls I worked with thinking for months that I was well over 25. Boy, that sticks.

Fast forward to 21.

I left that stable life to travel.

I left my perfect little home, my perfect boyfriend, zippy little car and perfect salary paying job and disposable income to go and see what else the world had for me. It was something I knew I would always do; my dangerous case of wanderlust is no secret to anyone.

When I came home a year later things were different.

I was different.

The thought of permanently unpacking and moving back to my old mature life scared me. I had met myself as I should be somewhere along the road. I didn’t want to go back to the beige wearing version of myself I had left behind, but I didn’t know how to be my new self in my old life.

So I ran.

All the way up to Airlie Beach to be precise. And thus ended my 4 year relationship (at which point after, I ran to Melbourne)

I feel like since then I’ve gone a bit backwards.

I’m not in the least bit mature anymore. Everyone who meets me now is shocked to find out that I’m 23, not 18 or 19. I drink and party a hell of a lot more, am stupid with my money, don’t care much about personal image anymore (as opposed to my very trend setting, label wearing, platinum blonde, 19 year old self) hang out with a younger crowd at the best of times and am unfocused and always coming up with a new plan on what I am going to do next.

Its like I plummeted so hard into ‘growing up’ when I lost my Dad, that now that my mind is clear again and I’m starting to come to terms with it for real, that I’m making up for lost time.

23 isn’t exactly the greatest time to be acting out like a 16 year old though.

It’s only been in the past couple of weeks that I have really come to the realization that this is why I felt so full of energy and steam, thanks to a well thought out theory from a close friend.

If only I came to the realization that a 23 year olds can’t afford to act childish.

Literally.

I got fired last week.

From the best job I have ever had in my life.

For the better part of this year, I’ve been working a backpacker hostel, in the bar.

I’ve discovered working in this kind of environment is absolutely perfect for me. I got to be myself in my own working environment, and when yourself is a free spirited closet gypsy girl who likes to wear costumes and sparkles, trust me, that’s not always easily accepted.

But this place and everyone inside it took you as you are and embraced it.

People who are traveling are free to be themselves as they were meant to be, and me working in this environment, left me to be inspired by them, and let my true self take over again.

I absolutely adored working at this place.

My job and the friends I made there meant the world to me. They still do.

I got fired for losing my sense of good decision-making. I let my own problems get in the way and, fitting to what I’d recently discovered about myself, dealt with it in a rash and adolescent way.

It really is one of those things that you feel sick thinking you could go back in time and take it all back. Self hate and a bit of good ol’ fashioned self-destruction played a major role in the days after...

Oh boy did they ever.

Let darkness reign...

what was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane

 

Things never make sense in the morning...

I had an episode of craziness earlier in the week. (Hence last post)
Not proper craziness, just overthinking and coming to illogical conclusions.
I'm not alone. 
Everyone has moments of insanity.



I was a mess and felt all the pressure of the past few weeks; losing my job, homelessness and end of year uni stress, it all hit me at once. 

I'm amazing at suppressing any thoughts or feelings that will lead to negativity (ask anyone!) but within a few hours that brick wall in my mind that, so durably, holds back all those feelings, temporarily crashed down and I felt it all. Everything.
It wasn't nice.
To top it off I was in a physical place of vulnerability. 
I HATE letting my guard down in front of people more than anything, especially people I don't know well.
So like I said, I was a mess. To the point where out of nowhere, I texted my ex, whom, while we are friends and everything, I don't really speak to all that much, and got him to bail me out of the situation. He knew all I needed was to separate myself from the darkness of the night before and put sleep in between.

The funny thing is, he was right. I woke up and things were okay. All those things I was upset about still existed, but, like always, I was able to deal with them.


It's insane, the character that comes out and controls you, the logic (or lack thereof) that takes over when you let something else envelope and control you.


Don't get me wrong, I like playing the puppet when I want too. We all know too well doing stupid shit and not having to be responsible is half the fun. 
For the first time though, I didn't like the conquest of my mind. No. Not at all.

We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain
But what was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane.

I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is

if my heart didn't exist, I would be so goddamn sane!

Sometimes I show signs of insanity.
Yep.


If I asked y'all to nod if you think you're the same, everyone should be confidently bopping their heads, 'cause we're all slightly insane, and our heart is what makes us go nutty.
Sometimes I do stupid shit, purely because I let bullshit meaningless feelings get in the way of my straight thinking intelligence.
I don't like this.
Not one bit.

Especially when I don't learn from my mistakes. 
And that's the definition of insanity right?

Don't get me wrong, falling in love is worth acting like a crazy person.
But not once this year did I fall in love. Nope.

And I knew it all along.

Goddamn.
As a testament to how stupid it is that I am even thinking about something so meaningless, I'm calling it a day in blog world and going to watch some sitcoms.
At least I'll never be as insane as the non-existent.

;-)