Old Draft

Just found this draft post written in 2015 - I  cant remember who's sister died but this was when I was first away from my Welly community and missing them dearly. My beloved friend Lisa  lost her Mum Olive, that her daughter Orewa was named after . It was the much respected Monica Cartner who had died and who we had mourned at a living wake some months previous. And yes I do  remember the tragedy and systemic failures in the death of  Samuel Fischer - whose mother had raged against the system as she tried to help him, she  may have been a part of his problems but I love her steadfastness,  the fact that she wore a wig and dressed as a vicar in a collar to visit him when she was trespassed from Te Whare Ahūru  (poorly named)  and to whom the DHB had to eventually issue an apology. It is now 2021 what I had once hoped to be my year of fun but which actually became my year of over coping, over responsibility that I had to learn to shed like layers of old coats in the spring so I  could become light and fun loving again. Post from 2015 below...

Been a few deaths lately , feeling the sadness,  a consumer battler colleague, someone who was an inpatient and a dear friends sister. That deep sense of sadness,  at losses in my life, that or as someone put on Facebook this morning "I want my Mummy!"

Too far away to be part of the process and social media is really not the sort of "community " you need at times like this.  Also I guess that "space" in my life that felt like an opportunity can also feel like an emptiness. That post mothering, post social justice, post consumer net-worker, who am I?  space.

Another loneliness today doing law as it relates to nursing and I have no-one to roll my eyes with or be angry about the fact that people experiencing distress are so often the exception to every human right.    Our progressive tutor pointed out that weekly checks for white blood cell counts are important for those on  Clozapine when I'm yelling on the inside that its not okay to put people on drugs that will shorten their lives by 20+ years, and not look at alternatives.

Kinda craving solace,  a phone call, missing old friends,  who get me and who I love and  there goes that question 'Do I bother people?'  or more fundamentally "Am I worthy?'.   After a bit of self care , curry in a packet,  that feeling of well-being or comfort returns - now I  can ring someone- and yes I spoke to an old comrade in arms about our lives and tomorrows funeral.