by Lori Dwyer on March 11, 2011 · 48 comments


What do you do, when you think you have a light at the end of the tunnel… and then it goes out?

Things change. In the very flicker of an eye. Don’t I know that.

I’ve made the decision, to sell my house, but I have no idea, now, where I’m going.
Perth..? It seemed like such a nice idea. But can I really do that, when reality hits?

Probably not.

Reality’s a bitch.

And I’m probably not even brave enough.

It seems two months of stress is about all the human mind can handle. Let’s call this one, for lack of a better euphemism, the straw the broke the camel’s back. Or, alternatively, the very last thing my mind could take before it shattered into a million pieces.

It feels shattered, right now. This isn’t the worse I’ve been- certainly not- but I think it is the most alone and adrift I’ve felt. To give myself some kind of hope… stupid.

Happy endings, fresh starts, that’s fairytale stuff. And we already know reality is a very, very fucking different thing. Fairies don’t exist here. Or maybe they do. I used to be one, remember…?

That seems like such a long time ago.

In real life, little fairies like me, they get stomped on.

I feel it so much, the tiny psychicality of myself. The slightness of my arms, all 47 kilos of me, all five feet two inches. Maybe it was because Tony was so big..? But I feel so very fragile, at times. Like when I’m dragging crap out of the garage, or trying to wrestle with my boy the way his Daddy would have.

But I’m a tough cookie. Do not ever doubt that. I may look little, and I do some stupid things, but I am as strong as they come. Whatever you throw at me, it seems…. I get back up.

I was chatting to my lovely friend the Kitten the other day. Telling her how, at some points, people telling me I’m strong and brave makes me cranky, because what other fucking option do I have? There is none.

But, the Kitten explained, this is a choice. So far, my choice has been to keep going. Every step of the way, to keep pushing through it. I’ve gotten out of bed every day. I’m not in the pysch ward.

Fuck it, I’m not dead. And more than anything else in the world, that is what I want right now. To just close my eyes and sleep for a very, very long time. Because this is too hard.

But I can’t do that to my kids. It’s just not fair. But they’re so young, and resilient, and if this is how life is going to be and I’ll always be tainted by this and I’ll see it every time I close my eyes and no one will ever love me again… then maybe it’s better to do it now, while they’re young, too young to understand. If you are to lose a parent, very young is the best way to do it. I’m guessing the same applies, if you must lose both. And some days I feel like they must, because I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t live with my own mind anymore.

So… this is it. I’m making a very conscious choice here. It’s either a whole fucking packet of sleeping pills… a long stay in the psych ward… or a trip back home. To the place where I first was me. The place where I grew up.

And, so fucking reluctantly, I choose the place where I grew up. I’ll take my children there, for only the second time, and take them to the places I used to play.

The last time I went back, standing on the side of the river with Tony and our son. Tony telling him that “This is where Mummy played, when she was little…”

I choose to keep going. I don’t fucking want to.

But I am choosing to. Rather than crumple, sob, quite literally die…. I keep going.

Maybe I am brave.

But stupid.

Not just me.


All of it.

Happiness, especially.

It always just gets taken away again.


I’ve left anonymous comments on so far because I wanted to keep an open flow of discussion happening on the topic of mental health-sometimes anonymity is a very useful thing.

But, rather freaking ironically, I’ve decided to turn anon comments off. Thanks to a few really spineless losers who, apparently, know me in real life, but certainly haven’t contacted me in real life; and feel they can pass anonymous judgment on me venting my emotions via my blog.

As I’ve said before, if you don’t like it, please fuck off. I write what I like. Yep, I have plenty of people to talk to. You ain’t one of them. And I still prefer to write.

(Sit down, shut up, and be a good girl, Lori.)

Anyway. You can’t say things to me In Real Life anonymously. And now you can’t so it on my blog, either. You have something to say, put your goddamn name to it.

I am.

Are you brave enough for that?

post signature

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

{ 48 comments… read them below or add one }

bigwords is… March 13, 2011 at 8:31 am

Just do what works for you and your children. Fuck everyone else, they aren't living in your shoes. xx


A Daft Scots Lass March 12, 2011 at 9:29 pm

A Great decision…


Hear Mum Roar March 12, 2011 at 7:23 pm

It sounds like your next steps are slowly falling into place, and I wish you all the best wherever you should end up


flask March 12, 2011 at 1:47 pm

i've always thought that if you're going to be in conversation, you ought to go ahead and be known.

and yet i always write as "flask". it's not an accident. if you know me in real life, you know that "flask" is what it says on the ID bracelet i wear. it's a psueudonym, but not a disguise.

the only excuse for posting anonymously is to be kind; sometimes it's necessary if you want to tell a story but you don't want people hurt.

posting anonymously so you can be meaner makes you scum.

and as for you, lori, you and your family and your writing: you were telling your story when this thing happened to you. this is still your story, and you are still telling it.

you are telling it with dignity and courage and honesty.

i've seen a lot of survivors, too many to want to talk about and i know you're doing about as well as anyone ever does.

thank you for writing. thank you for enduring.

just thanks.


Good Golly Miss Holly! March 12, 2011 at 3:14 pm

Fuck anonymous trolls right in the fucking ass.


Betch March 12, 2011 at 2:24 pm

Just in case you really would prefer Perth, but feel like a move like that is too big, too brave… I will help you in any way I can. I will be a friend.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

Not a pressure thing, but like I said – just in case that is where your heart would lead.


Judith Kaufman March 12, 2011 at 2:54 am

I think selling the house is a GREAT idea. You must get out of there!!


Melissa March 11, 2011 at 10:59 pm

I'm so sorry that people have continued to use the anonymous comments to be hurtful and horrible. Some people suck.
I hope that heading home brings you peace and healing, and that the little glimmer of hope comes back to you. I know it will, just hang in there.


Watershedd March 11, 2011 at 8:54 pm

I would have talked to you last night had you wanted. I was uncomgortable pushing the issue … I figured you'd chat if you needed an ear. I could chat last night, just not read a post. My head and eyes were past that sort of detail.

If you see me online, you are welcome to chew my ear and share my late night teas.

As for the 'anon' friends, they are not worth your effort, your anger, your sorrow. If they are too gutless to speak to your face, then they should be ignored. And if you ever work out who they are, tell them to their face what you think of them and call them for the gutless demons (for that is what they are, sowers of discord, pain and division) that they are, to their face. It will make you feel oodles better.

Hope you have long, peaceful sleep tonight. X


New Outlook Fitness March 11, 2011 at 7:57 pm

You are a strong lady, keep your chin up and keep going x


Romina Garcia March 11, 2011 at 7:24 pm

I think the greatest strength in life is admitting to yourself when you feel defeated. No use in fucking pretending everything is rosy when it's not. It takes courage to admit when one's not coping and it takes even more courage to do something constructive about it. Your children are very lucky to have a mother like you in their lives. I wish I did/do. xx


phonakins March 11, 2011 at 7:24 pm

Keep going. With what you think, what you feel. Keep feeling it, no matter how good or how bad.


TracyP March 11, 2011 at 7:11 pm

"Telling her how, at some points, people telling me I'm strong and brave makes me cranky, because what other fucking option do I have? There is none."

This is EXCACTLY how I feel … everyday. My husband was killed 10 months ago and I also have small children and like you said what other fucking option do I have? I have two kids who depend upon me.

Everything new is scary and hard and horrible, just make the desision that feels right.

all my love


Doodah March 11, 2011 at 6:19 pm

Sarah said exactly what I was going to, travel around, stay somewhere you like for a few months and see what fits. Do it while the kids are little.
Oh, and for God's sake…eat something! You're far too small, I'm the same height as you and weigh 15kgs more – and I'm still not big, maybe a little round,lol.


deardarl March 11, 2011 at 5:35 pm

Every day you choose to keep moving forward is a good day. I also hate people calling me strong … but I guess I am when I look at the other option available (and it isn't really a good option).
I personally think moving away is a good idea – maybe closer to people who will support you (obviously not closer to "anonymous" because s/he is an idiot).
My husband died in a car accident on a main road in Brisbane. I can't even bear travelling to the *suburb* that road is in (thankfully I have no need to go there at all). So, for me, living where my husband died would be completely impossible and I would HAVE to move away.


Andrea March 11, 2011 at 5:28 pm

What Amy said! Maybe a move is a good thing – a complete change in direction, and a good gust of fresh salt air is always healing. Think of all the long beach walks!

Coastal NSW is great, I sort of/not quite live on coastal NSW (inland a bit), and it is great. Small communities can be so supportive, and if it is a community that you grew up in -hopefully there are still some good connections for you.


Amy March 11, 2011 at 4:36 pm

Selling a house and moving away from the memories is always such a hard thing to decide to do….it's a massive step for you to take. Be kind to yourself during this time. Move where you want to move- the kids are young and thus it's a great opportunity to take them wherever you want, to create their environment into whatever you want it to be.

Praying for you


Sarah March 11, 2011 at 4:05 pm

Go wherever you feel comfortable. If that's home then go there, if it's Perth go there. The kids aren't in school so you have a bit of time to move around & find what's best for you. Sure it will be a hassle doing it a few times if it comes to that, well you're a tough girl you can do it.


Cheryl Gerbera March 11, 2011 at 3:52 pm

Take one step at a time Lori. I know it's hard and it may seem impossible right now, but many many years from now, you'd be surprise on how strong you've become. I'm sure there's light at the end of the tunnel, although you may not see it now, you'll see it soon enough. I'm impressed by your bravery, every single post of it. And you've got tremendous support in this blog.
Selling your house maybe a good thing for a start, maybe it will help to fade the bad memories.
Hang in there, one step at a time.



PJ March 11, 2011 at 2:40 pm

Hi Lori, I don't actually know how I came to find your blog but it's had me transfixed and I felt compelled to comment. I am terribly impressed at your strength in getting through this and sharing your story with the world. It takes incredible bravery to do that and I hope it helps you in your journey. You don't know me, and I don't know you, but I wish the best for you and your children.


tenille-help-mum March 11, 2011 at 2:00 pm

Unless someone has actually been there themselves, it would be impossible to understand what you've been through Lori. These anonymous commenter who supposedly knew Tony, they aren't walking in your shoes. They have experienced a loss, but it isn't the same loss as yours. They may have experienced trauma, but it isn't anything like the trauma that you've experienced.

I see this in my husband and his family. They lost their brother/son to suicide late last year. He committed suicide after an argument with his wife. She found him. They don't understand the way she has reacted. They don't understand that her grief is different to theirs.

You're writing from your heart. You're showing us what it actually feel like. Honestly and truthfully, warts and all. The truth needs no apology.


Jodie at Mummy Mayhem March 11, 2011 at 1:51 pm

Hon, there will be days when you live, and days when you will simply exist because you have to. But I promise you…in the future, you will have more of the former and less of the latter.

Hang in there. Personally, I don't blame you for selling your home. A fresh start…here or Perth…won't hurt.



Bella March 11, 2011 at 1:35 pm

I hope you can find peace of mind and, with support of friends and family, break on through to the other side of… LIFE.

May your children be blessed with the strength of your love, and many many years of time together.


Marianna Annadanna March 11, 2011 at 12:41 pm

So much judgement out there in the world – so much on you. I'm sorry about that. None here. No judgement, no expectations. Just sending LOVE, STRENGTH, and PEACE to take home with you.


THE Bird March 11, 2011 at 10:20 pm

Well I'll be..! You & I both lived & grew up just across the bay from each other..
Beautiful, restful, healing country…. Good to go back to when you need healing, then, when you're ready, you can venture back out into the big wide world again… =-) xxxxxxx


Miss Pink March 11, 2011 at 10:37 am

People are still being fuck wits? FFS fuck off and grow a spine, say what you have to say and put your name to it or don't say it!

Lori, just keep going. Even if some days your feet feel like they're made of lead, rest those days, but your children, they NEED you. It would be awful for them to lose both parents. Both parents because they chose to leave.
Sure there are other people who can give them their needs, feed them, dress them, love them, but it won't be their mother. Their mother, the person they WANT.
Hang in there. Please.
And you know how to contact me, i am always happy to listen, to help in any way i can, i just don't know what to do or if you'd rather me, a stranger, leave you alone.


Michelle March 11, 2011 at 9:56 am

Well done on taking the step in selling your house. A new start is a great idea if it's going home or moving to Perth.
Perth is a lovely place. Maybe if you come back we can meet up.


Being Me March 11, 2011 at 9:34 am

I wish there was some way that we got to flick forward a few pages in the book of our life's journey, you know? It just feels so fecking unfair sometimes that we can't know, so that we can get our heads and hearts around how long we have to keep treading water and so that it doesn't feel so endless.

Perth is gorgeous. Lori, drown out the naysayers (real and suspected ones – I had a number of suspected ones, and it turns out my instincts weren't wrong). They sap you like ghoulish vultures. Good on you, I think it's very healthy to turn off anon comments if now feels the right time – doesn't mean it was 'wrong' to have them on before, but you've come to that point where enough's enough. And you've had more than your fair share of enough. Love and light to you and your precious babies.


Adalita March 11, 2011 at 8:59 am

You have a lot of hard decisions to make. We understand. Take your time, don't do anything rash or stupid, weigh up the options. I too went through years of depression in my younger years. some days it trys to creep back. You are an inspiration; don't give up! As for those people who can't put their name to a post one word = GUTLESS!

Hugs from me on the Gold Coast.

I hope you feel the love from those you inspire!


Farmers Wifey March 11, 2011 at 8:50 am

Where you grew up was where we visited every year for our holidays..I don't know the specific area but I'll ask you next's truly a beautiful place….xox


Watercolor March 11, 2011 at 7:26 am

A-freaking-men to the put your damn name on your comment. There is no excuse for being mean to someone in such pain.

Hugs sweetie. One day at a time is doing well. I have a therapist friend who says that in the throes of deep grief all you really have to do is breathe. Just breathe. Maybe eat a little. Maybe get some sleep, too. But just breathe. Hugs!


Donna March 11, 2011 at 6:49 am

Lori your home town sounds like the perfect place to be. Go wrap yourself up in the love of the place and its familiarity.

I still think of you often, even last night when I couldn't sleep and I wondered if you were still struggling to. I can only imagine how hard night's must be, especially in the house. A fresh start sounds like such a perfect thing to do, because when I read your Perth blog, a tiny bit of that old Lori resurfaced. She was away from the scene of so much excruciating hurt. Hang in there, I hope you can catch a glimmer of that again soon xx


Janet NZ March 11, 2011 at 6:43 am

I've just read your post about your home town. It sounds just lovely. I hope you and your kids will find some peace there. I can imagine the town wrapping itself around you all and keeping you safe, protecting you from everything that chooses to be 'anonymous'.xxx


Kelloggsville March 11, 2011 at 5:31 am

No feeling is invalid, nothing is 'stupid' really, it just is the way it is. Perth is a great place to raise children, going there would be good and if home brings good vibes then go home. Nothing you choose to do now has to be forever, it can just be for now. Whatever you need to do to see you through today, this week, this month…do it. You will find coping strategies and they may change as you continue to change. Oh I sound all lecturey, sorry..Usual big hugs, prayers and constant thoughts for your peace of mind xxx


cassey March 11, 2011 at 5:03 am

Yay for selling the house that's tainted. I think it's gret, not stupid that you're selling and moving back home.



connieemeraldeyes March 11, 2011 at 4:58 am

A move will do you good. You can make password posts and had people email you to get the password. That way it will be people that want to read your blog and people that critize you, don't have to read it or can't because they won't have a password. I read a blog that the lady puts some posts as password protected. She also put regular posts on too.


rageagainsttheblackdog March 11, 2011 at 4:39 am

Hi Lori,

You are making the best choices that you can and the ones that you believe are best for you and your family, and I salute you.

I know you feel tainted and like you will never be happy again, but one day the pain and trauma will fade, and you might be surprised to find that you against all your expectations are happy again.

And you are definitely a tough cookie.



Kinyama March 11, 2011 at 3:06 am

Sending good thoughts from NYC. Keep writing…. real writers must write whether it be in journals, through poetry, stories or blogs. You are a beautiful writer and you must continue! ignore the f*cktards….


alltheshinythings March 11, 2011 at 3:02 am

Please don't every apologize – even in a round about way – for standing up for yourself!! I"m so glad you're seeing what you need and stepping up to take it. You go girl!

Good luck with all the decisions of where to go and selling the house. A new start sounds like a great idea… :)

Your hometown sounds like where I live right now – only polar opposites in terms of location (I live in a mountain town). Sounds like a wonderful place to heal.

Many HUGS.


Now a Mum March 11, 2011 at 1:41 pm

Please, please hang in there. hang on to that tiny glimmer of hope that I know you have, that one day, things will be better than they are now.


Cassondra March 11, 2011 at 2:38 am

I'm glad you turned off anonamous comments, and your point about not being able to in real life is a good one. If they wanted to help I'm sure they could, but so many folks just want to pass judgement. To those judgy folks I would say, remember that's God's job, not yours. To Lori I would say, God is love, I love you, and I wish you well and healing.


Claire March 11, 2011 at 2:15 am

Thinking of you, as ever.



Ali March 11, 2011 at 12:58 am

Honey, yes this is damn hard, and very very shit. But the choices you are making are the best ones. You are choosing to be a great mum, choosing to be here for the kids. And you know what, I bet you anything these spineless anon people would not make the same decisions if they were in your shoes. They would be in the hospital or the grave, not at home and making wise decisions like you are. These new decisions are the baby steps to your new life. These decisions are helping you move into the reality that is not crowded with the trauma of the last few months, but good memories. I'm proud of you Lori. I know I would be more of a mess than you are right now. So here's to the Tony you knew and loved, and here's to the future with happy memories and ones yet to be made. *raises glass*


LizJessie March 11, 2011 at 12:57 am

Always here for you hun.. even when/if you come back to Perth, you're more than welcome to stay here, and we can go through the bajillions of bottles of wine I've not drunk (just don't mind the messy house!)
Love you lots xx


Michael March 11, 2011 at 12:55 am

Yes. One step. Then, at some point, a second one.


Glowless @ Where’s My Glow March 11, 2011 at 12:53 am

I think my comment got eaten. It went something like this:
The need to go home when things go bad is strong in a lot of us. Even after a crappy day I know how much I just want my mum, my old room or a meal cooked by my dad. There is comfort in familiarity.
So maybe going home is where you will find some comfort? xxx


jen March 11, 2011 at 12:44 am

One step at a time love. Even when it feels like you can't do it, you can.


freefalling March 11, 2011 at 10:24 am

Oh – I hope it 'works' for you.
After a particularly foul, drawn-out and relentless time in the city, my husband and I packed up and moved to a country town (we didn't mean to – it kinda just happened) – not my home town but one a lot like it.
It was transforming.
The city was where all the bad crap happened and it was like leaving it all behind.
But when we first moved to our new home, I fell apart and moved in a dream for 12 months – it was the best thing I could have done.
I was broken and needed to just 'be broken'.
And while these people were all new to me, they knew a bit about what had happened to us and seemed to cosset us in this blanket of understanding and quiet support.
And even though when we were in the city and surrounded by people who had experienced similar things, we felt so alone. In the country, tragedy is so much more part of life and is borne amongst the community. We weren't the only ones. Everyone had experienced unbearable sorrows and I learnt from the way they continued to live to understand I was just the same as everyone else.
We hate going back to the city now. It's like re-visiting all the crap – we try to avoid it as much as possible.
We are a trillion times more happy in our new home.
I so hope you can have a similar experience.


Previous post:

Next post: