Archive | May 2016

Between Your Soul And Mine..


I’m so tired but I can’t sleep…standing on the edge of something much too deep…its funny how we feel so much but can not say a word…we’re screaming inside, but we cant be heard…but I will remember you…will you remember me…don’t let your life pass you by and weep not for the memories…



I was so afraid to love you but I was more afraid to lose.  I was clinging to a past that didn’t let me choose.  Once there was darkness, a deep and endless night and gave me everything you had.

Above everything?

You gave me light.

Here we are again.  Its exactly 4:59am on  a Wednesday morning and I’m sitting in bed listening to our favourite Sarah McLachlin song and having a conversation with your soul. Because lets face it, life in the defence force sucked ass and the time difference was never fun.  And when you had time, this was peak talk time for us. I’ve been trying to figure out for the last few days where this insane desire to write has all of a sudden come from.  And I’ve worked it out.  I kind of feel a little silly now.  Because the answer was there all along.  Right on either side of my bed side tables looking RIGHT at me as if too say “get on with it girl, what are you wasting your talent for?”  Because lets face it, you were one of my harshest critics but also my biggest supporter when it came to the words I shared with the world.

You were the very first person I ever showed my writing too and the anxiety ate me alive as you read it.  I remember wanting to do a runner while you were reading it.  And every time I tried to, your arm snaked out and held me in a death vice with a grin on your face while your read it and I just cringed.  I was determined you would hate it.  Because I did.  When you finished it.  You looked at me, shook you head and said “holy fuck little girl, what in the HELL is THAT?”  I was mortified and prayed as hard as my non religious mind would let me for a big, fat hole in the ground to swallow me up until you started to laugh and told me how much you loved it.  You were simply stunned because you’d never known I could write.  But hey, neither did I.

And so it began.  Every time you went away, I wrote you longer and longer letters and I honestly believed they kept us both sane.  Fort Dix, Fort Bragg, Afghanistan, Iraq, Germany and Afghanistan and Iraq all over again.

I miss you.

I love you.

I wish just for one second I could see you and hug you and tell you how amazing you are.  And I do mean ARE not WERE.  Because I speak to your soul all the time and I know you speak to mine.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t written for so long?  Maybe thats why my words stopped the day you went away. The day I found out you were never coming back to me.  The day I found out that every single solitary plan we had put into action was never going to happen.  We fought through battles bigger than the wars you fought to make sure that in the end we could be together.  We fought through crazy exes, illnesses, you fought through my crazy insecurities.  You stood in the middle of the desert and faced guns pointed at you and told me it was easier to do that than to battle with me.  That sure got my shit together didn’t it?

A lot of people in my world were shocked when they found out you had gone.  For a start, because they didn’t know you had even existed.  Why, I hear people ask? Because if there was one thing you taught me in the time I was blessed to have my heart in your hands, it was because it was none of their business and I finally wanted something for ME. For US.

You and I both know, that with the way my life had been.  The way my childhood was, my previous toxic relationships, my drug addictions and all the other dysfunctional bullshit it just didn’t matter.  I had found something and someone, so amazing, so precious and wonderful that I wanted to hold onto him with both hands and NEVER let him go. Let alone share him social media and the rest of the world.

I’m just sad that when I did finally get to share you with the world it was to say goodbye to you.  Nobody, except the select few who did know of you, had any idea of how crushed and destroyed I was.  But I did what I knew you would have wanted.  I smiled.  I said all the right things.  But in the late hours of the night my heart was breaking.  I sat and stared at walls.  I wanted to break things, but I didn’t. I felt like my heart had been torn out.  The pain in my chest was incredible.  It felt like you had reached right inside and torn out my heart and left a gaping hole there.

And then, and only then, did the tears start.

And they wouldn’t stop.

And I hated you.  And I felt so guilty for that hatred.  But I still hated you.

And I’m sure when this post reaches your soul you’ll read it, smile and tell me you understand that emotion and maybe you’ll answer my question?

I’ve lost so many people I loved in the last three years, but you promised me that would be the end of it.  When I lost my dad, you called me from Iraq.  Somehow you knew.  That was the strength of the connection of our souls. You KNEW something devastating had happened to me and you got me through it as best you could from the other side of the universe.  And you promised me I wouldn’t have to go through it alone again.

But I did baby, because this time you couldn’t hold my hand.  Because this time we buried you. And all I had to show for it was a folded up flag and some really pretty medals.  Don’t get me wrong, I have more than some.  I have your photos, your letters, the memories of your phone calls and the times we spent together.  But if that makes me ungrateful, then yes, I’m ungrateful.

Ungrateful.  Angry.  Frustrated.  Sad. Lonely.


Even though there’s a hole in the world where the rain gets in.

I’m healing.  And I know that’s what you’d what want.

You’d always told me I was like your very own Calamity Jane.  But I never thought I was that tough.  I always knew love had a price but I didn’t know how much it was until the day you left and while I’ll never be the same again.  I will go on.

You could have left me with a reason why.

But you didn’t.  Just a big ass fucking mess to clean up.

Not only mine, but everybody else’s.  Sometimes it sucks being the strong one and for that I blame YOU because YOU taught me to be that way. I had to be even stronger while I watched everybody sell off every single thing you owned.  And all I could do was watch them do it.  Because I didn’t have a legal leg to stand on.  I knew you wouldn’t have wanted it that way.  But I couldn’t fight your entire family.  So I salvaged what I could and those things give me comfort.

But I digress my love…

Lets talk…

What the FUCK were you thinking?


You. Killed. Yourself.

You took a gun.  And you shot yourself.

There.  In the house where you wanted to live with me.

I guess you know this is not coming from my heart right now?  But from the depths of my soul.  From a part of me deep inside that has been buried since they told me you had left me.

You hated even discussing suicide.  Even when it was someone you didn’t know.

Lets go back once again, to the very beginning, when my family tore apart my life by taking my children away and I couldn’t cope?  When I was in the deepest, darkest, most desperate place?  When I didn’t want to go outside the front door, let alone keep breathing.  Your words to me were “You ever think about that, and I’ll fucking kill you myself”.


You had me.  You had so many people who loved you.  Such a big family who loved you.  Such an amazing future to look forward to you.

Every day, for such a long time, you saved my life.

And then you left.

I cant even image what was going through your mind baby and as much as I am trying to come to terms with it, its slow going.  I’m still only coming to terms with you not being here. The suicide part of it is going to take me a little while longer.

Yes, I’m angry with you.  Beyond angry but I don’t profess to understand what was going through your mind.  All that war couldn’t have left you in a good place and knowing you, you would have wanted to go back and do more.  There must have been a million and one untold horrors over there that you never spoke of.

I wonder if there was something I could have done?

Probably not.

Knowing you, nothing I could have said or done, would have changed your mind.  You had already decided your time here was done.  I’m just sorry it happened before we got the chance to put the rest of our plans into action.

But I’ll never be sorry for what you brought to my life and the legacy you’ve left with me.

Thank you for coming into my life when you did.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for the constant love and encouragement.

Thank you for always having conversations with my soul.

And most of all – thank you for showing my the woman you saw in your eyes.

I miss you every minute of every single day.

I will love you for the rest of my days..



























Here Comes The Sun…


“Little darlin…its been a long cold lonely winter…little darlin…it feels like years since its been here…here comes the sun….here comes the sun…and I say…its all right….”


Lately I’ve been losing my shit a little. Well, that might be an understatement. A whole lot might be a more apt description You’ve probably gathered that by the way I threw my coffee table out the front door the other day in my previous post. Writing has always been a source of solace for me but I sort of lost my way for the longest time and I lost the ability to put my thoughts into words.

I found myself critiquing EVERYTHING I wrote. It wasn’t funny, romantic or interesting. It didn’t sound right or it was just plain shit. It was forced and stilted. Basically it was written because I felt I had to write it. Because I felt that everyone EXPECTED it from me. Because I expected it from myself. Because I was the girl with the God given ability and here I was wasting it by NOT writing. So I just stopped. Rather than disappoint everyone and myself. I just shut down. If I couldn’t write the way I use to.  The way I knew I could.  They way that was fantastic, flowy, angst ridden and sometimes even down right pain filled then I wasn’t going to right AT ALL.

Because we all know it has to be perfect, right?

I just stopped. Shut that part of myself away and didn’t write away for TWO. WHOLE. YEARS.

And then yesterday at 4am, I was hit with the unstoppable urge to write again. Not for any other reason than that I needed to and I wanted too. I had something I needed and wanted to say. Too me and for me. I didn’t give a shit if people read it. If they did or they didn’t like it. I didn’t give a shit about that either. This time? This is all for me.

So today, I needed some inspiration. I knew I had things I wanted to say but I just wasn’t sure what. So I decided to go to the one person who has always had the ability to open me up like a flower and draw me out with his quiet, peaceful presence. Some one I can just sit by and feel comfortable with. Someone I know will always love me, protect me, have my back and never, ever judge me.

Even though he’s not on the earth any more.

Warren was my best friend.

And I loved him then and I love him now.

He was 19 when he took his own life and he was wise beyond his years.

Yeah I know, if he was wise beyond his years LJ then why did he take his own life?

Because he had work to do somewhere else, thats why.

This world was just not big enough for a personality like him.

So I honestly believe that he is in the next life with my grandmother and my ex and the three of them are working together to sort out the mess that is my crazy life.

But anyway, this post isn’t about him.

Its about the fact that right now I am sitting here at his headstone, in the sunshine, with my laptop writing because its where I feel at total peace. Its been freezing cold in Melbourne today but the moment I got here today, he turned on the blinding warm sun for me and for that I am grateful.

So lets talk.

There is much I need to work on in my life right now. And I am not sure where I want to begin. Some of my relationships have become toxic and I am not sure if I want to try to heal them or if I should just bundle them up in a nice ribbon and say “thanks for the memories, but its time for you to go”. I have many things left unsaid with some people who have caused me pain and heartache and I often think that if I speak to them and address the issues then perhaps I can let it go and feel like they have come to an end. These are some people that played a significant part in my life and that there causes me a great deal of heart ache. Especially when I read over old emails and letters and I think about all that we went through. But then the angry girl in me comes out and says nah, fuck you, why do I owe you anything. You made your bed. Deal with it. Something that I can work on with the new psychologist my cousin has put me in touch with.

I worry lately that I am alienating myself from the world. When I look back at my old blog and I see how open and honest I was, I think wow. These days I am almost like a hermit. I had a life then. I worked. I went out. I socialised. I had friends. These days I spend most of my time in my bedroom which is my sanctuary. I don’t see many of my friends. My interactions are mostly with my daughters and my grand baby and as you know I’ve only just started to write again and as for studying? I’ve lost all faith and self confidence in myself. But I’m slowly trying to work up to it again.

Truth be told, I’ve always said I didn’t care what people thought of me and said about me. But THAT couldn’t be ANY FURTHER from the truth. I care a lot and it drives me bat shit crazy. Because I shouldn’t care. I guess its a lot to do with the issues I have with my estranged family. I’ve been made to feel like shit by them for so many years that it stuck. Add into the mix the narcissistic shit I dealt with for all those years with Michael and its a recipe for disaster. Isn’t it?

I know, I know. I made things out with Michael to be perfect. But they were polar opposite. He tormented me daily. Actually hourly. But before we set up a lynch mob. I allowed it. I put up with it because he’d been in my life for so many years that I was convinced that we were star crossed lovers. We were destined to be together. It was fate. This was Mills and Boon shit guys. This was the man who was gonna save me, when I couldn’t save myself. Nope, this was the man who was gonna beat me down daily. Until there was almost nothing left. Until I hated him. Destroying a friendship of over 20 years. Its crazy how the world works.

People say to me all the time, your so brave LJ. Brave? Me? Are you fucking kidding? I’m not brave. I’m the biggest fucking coward on the face of the earth. You have no idea? I have a chance to put the story of my crazy, fucked up, drug addled, brothel managing, chid abuse surviving life into words in a book and I HAVE NOT DONE IT. Why? Because I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid that people will laugh at what I write. That it will sound silly. Even putting these blogs up sometimes fills me with terror BUT what most people don’t know is that here us a part of me that is a little masochistic and gets off on the pain. But thats a story for a different blog post. I want to write. I want to put it all out there. But what if people don’t like it? What if I do it and nobody reads it?

I’m not brave.

I’m a coward.

I tell my kids all the time to live their lives with out fear and to go out there and be brave.

Pretty hypocritical eh?

My children think I am the bravest woman on the face of the earth and I feel like such a fraud.  I feel like such a disappointment to them.  My two youngest daughters look at me with such love and admiration and they tell me all the time how wonderful and amazing they think I am for all the things I do for them.  They tell me how strong and invincible they think I am and all the while I’m crumbling inside.   But I cant tell them because I cant disappoint them by letting them know that the one woman they love and admire is really the biggest fraud and pretender around.

So I guess this is where it all begins again.  I start to put one foot in front of the other.  I put my fingers on the keys and I pour my words out here and I just write.  I write what ever comes to my mind.  Some of it is going to make perfect sense.  Some of it will come out with perfect clarity.  Some of it will come with great wracking sobs that will leave me so empty that when I am done, I’ll have nothing left.  Some of it will fill me with horrors that I wont want to remember and some of it will fill me with pure unadulterated joy and remind me of all the reasons I’m alive.

I’ve just sat here and deleted an entire paragraph that said I will get back to the person that I used to be.  But I won’t.  Because I don’t want to be that Lisa.  That Lisa is gone.  That Lisa was the one who just toed the line.  The Lisa who smiled because she thought she had to.  That Lisa who did what every one told her she should.

I will get to the point where I will become the Lisa I am meant to be.  I don’t know who that is. All I know is that I’m getting older and I’m changing as I do.  I’m finding the things I loved before, no longer love.  I’m finding love in different things.  And thats okay with me.  I just don’t know what those things are.  But I’ll find them.

Thank GOD for the clarity that my best friend gives me.  I’m blessed that he’s still watching over me.  Right now, I’m feeling better than I have in the last few days.’

Life’s a journey they say, not a destination.

Looks like my journey is taking me in a new direction….






This entry was posted on May 27, 2016. 1 Comment

Chasing The Sky

tornadoIts been over two years since I’ve been here.  This place almost doesn’t feel like home.  Notice I said ALMOST.  But coming back through the door, it feels familiar and comforting, like a pair of pj’s or a comfy jumper.  Like one of mum’s hugs.  If your lucky enough to experience that sensation.  But you get my point right?

Anyway.  I’m back.  I work up this morning at 4am, with the overwhelming desire to write.  And I haven’t experienced that for the LONGEST time.  My world has been insane and crazy to say the very least.  I’ve been suffering insomnia and I’m usually just getting to sleep at this time NOT waking up and I’m lucky if  I can wake up before midday.  But today, when I need to be up at 7am for work.  It happens like this. But I digress. Lets get back to why I’m here.

I’m all fucked up.

Too put it mildy and bluntly.  I’m fifty shades of fucked up and I don’t know why.  I’ve gone from being happy and settled in myself to being stressed, angry and miserable.  I’m sad.  I’m seriously miserable and I cry at the most simple things. I look at my grand daughter and think how beautiful she is and I cry.  Not just tears well up in your eyes crying, I’m talking sobbing your heart out tears.

I’m angry.  At everything.  Yesterday the coffee table was in my way.  What did I do?  Well LJ, you moved it I hear you say.  Nope, I picked it up, carried it down the hallway, opened the door and threw it out into the street.  And no, I am NOT kidding.  A massive over exaggeration I know but that is seriously how ANGRY and over it I was.

So LJ, what’s bothering you, is your next question right?  If I knew, I would tell you.  I have three beautiful daughters.  Two of whom I see every day that adore me and never lose the opportunity to text me and tell me that they love and adore me.  I have a beautiful new grand daughter who is now 8 months and who I see every day and who loves me too death.  The huge smile on her face when she sees me warms my heart no end. I have an amazing new house that is perfect for me.  I have a few close friends that love and support me.  So I have no fucking clue WHY I am so fucking angry and miserable.

I seem to have lost my love for everything.  I don’t have any love for the gym anymore.  I don’t even write anymore.  I think thats pretty obvious by how long its been since I’ve been here.  I’ve tried numerous times to write blog posts, but every time I’ve written something I’ve read over it and gone, umm nope, it doesn’t sound right.  Its not funny, it doesn’t flow like it used it. What if I put it out there and people read it and think bad of me?  The funny thing is, on my Facebook and my Instagram intro is lists me as a rebel and a divine trouble maker.  Yeah right.  That’s really fucking funny.  Because if I was really that person I wouldn’t give a fuck what people thought about what I wrote.  I’d simply be writing for myself.  Wouldn’t I?

OMG LJ?  You’ve got it! I hear you all say.  So go to it.

Perhaps I will.

I need to do something, because the overwhelming sadness I am feeling lately is terrible and I don’t want to go back to the living in the world I used to when I had the black curtain pulled around me.  There was a time in my life when I LOVED to live in that situation.  I was moody and dark.  I had that black curtain around me.  I wrote all the time and everything flowed.  My blog was amazing, I had thousands of followers, my relationship was awesome (so I thought) because I was so dark and fucked up that he could manipulate me like a puppet.  Yep it was great right?  And then it all came crashing down because I was such an asshole.  And I don’t want to go back to being that horrible person. I want to be able to write again.  I want to be able to write about my truth.  My sadness, my happiness, my anger, my pain.  Just everything.  If people wanna read it then great.  If they don’t, well that’s great too.  At this stage I just wanna right again.

I just want to start living like a human again.  I’m tired of being sad and a hermit.  I’ve been spending so much time tucked away in my bedroom that its becoming a joke.  Of course I go out.  When its absolutely necessary.  Not because I want too.  Just because I have too and I know it has to change.

Six months ago I was settled.  I was working with Melanie (not my crazy lesbian prison guard sister, but more on that tonight) my naturopath and losing weight, I was slowly going back to the gym after Michael destroyed my love for it (more on THAT tonight too) and just LOVING my life and then life decided to say “hey, lets fuck her up” aaaaaand it did.  And now here I am.  Lately the headaches I’ve been suffering are debilitating to the point that I can not cope.  I’ve tried everything and I have absolutely no relief.  And the pain is so shocking that I am like the monster from the black lagoon and all I want to do is sleep.  And I cant even do that because insomnia is kicking my ass.

Get off your meds they said.  It will be good for you they said. You’ll sleep better they said. FUCK YOU I say.

Next week I go back to my psychiatrist and talk to him about dealing with this rage I’m feeling before I destroy another coffee table and the neighbours really start to think I’m a fucking nut case.  After that, its the neurologist to find out just WHAT is causing the headaches.  Maybe, just maybe I can get some relief and start to become somewhat human again.  Because I seriously can’t stand behaving like an asshole and treating people so appallingly.  Not only that.  I can’t stand having so little respect for myself.

I spent so much time, money and effort working on the inner me and of late it feels like it was for nothing.  Because I’ve lost it all.  And I don’t know where to begin to look to find it again.  I’m at a crisis point in my life.  I don’t think I’ve ever been at a point where I don’t know which way to turn.  I’ve pulled out my oracle cards again for guidance and tonight I’ll sit down and let them speak to me.  And then I’ll go to the one woman who tells it like it is with absolutely NO BULLSHIT and who will hopefully help direct me back on the right path.  Miss Emma Chalmers.

I know now, that I still have my love for writing and blogging.  Over 1000 words tells me that.  And there is plenty more I have to fill you on when I’m back tonight.  Hopefully no more coffee tables will have been damaged before then.

Until then

Always stay humble and kind