LISTEN – There is a way out… –

Dec. 24, 2020 – As the sun rose in the sky, the gathered mob once again settled into respective groups. Barefoot kids peppered the paddock playing backyard cricket. The bar table was filled with dads talking about the drought and calling over to the other Dads nearby flipping sausages, clutching beers and laughing heartily across the gap.

Mums, grandmothers, expecting mums and all the little kids sat huddled and clumped under the shade of the trees.

It suddenly imprinted on my soul that everyone looked entirely comfortable and at home in their environment, like they belonged. And that I may as well have had scales — so out of place did I feel. 

I found myself mentally detaching and shrinking away from the crowd in my own mind.

The peripheral noises grew dim and the constant nagging reminder that I was an outcast sat like a stone in my chest. This feeling I’d been shadowed by since I was a kid at boarding school was as familiar to me as a missing limb. I suppose, over time, I’d grown used to it. But it never stopped being heartbreaking to realise that no matter what I did or didn’t do — or could not do (such as have my own kids) — it just ached endlessly.

For whatever reason, at some point, that day it was too much.

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