Hello Again. Thank You For Waiting.

She appears again, out of the ether.  Shocked eyes turn, for a moment.  She blinks like a wounded owl cast suddenly into the light.
The dust settles.  No one spares a second thought.  People move on.  She ambles along as though nothing were different.  
She's back.


Maybe with a little more longevity and enthusiasm this time.

     
     Not to say there wasn't enthusiasm before.  It's just, and I'm sure it's plain to see dear readers, I have been somewhat absent.  Not to make excuses but it's been a rough year.  It's a tough gig finishing an honours degree and finding out it does nothing to help you find work.  I've paid my rent as a telephone jockey for Telstra's whipping line: inbound billing and activations.  Ever thought you've been so pissed off about your internet service that you'd call your provider and let the poor sap cop some of your abuse?  Spare a thought next time and spare your vitriol, that poor sap is me.
     I have had people swear at me, scream at me, belittle and attempt to denigrate me.  Some people think they'll squeeze money out of me by threatening my job, others think they can frighten me by threatening to sue, and then there are always the delightful crazies that think that the appropriate way to approach getting what they want is to threaten my life.  Yes, we do regularly receive death threats.
     Now, before you go off thinking that you are so angry that sometimes, we innocent and uninvolved, underpaid workers that happen to get dumped with your call somehow deserve this, and I will take this tangent only once: Think Again.
     WE DON'T.  And whatever insincere, mumbled apology you manage to scrape together at the end of your tirade is down to the dirt insulting.  I declare this now: your flimsy apologies are irrelevant, negated by your total lack of respect for another human being.
     Mull on this for a minute.  If I walked into a store, stepped up to the consultant (who I will assume does not know me, but whether or not we are familiar is really not a point of contention) and began screaming at her in a decidedly gut-wrenching and primal tone, flapping my arms about and threatening her life, I can promise you that someone would call security.  I might even be arrested.  Threatening someone's life, regardless of how much money they have charged you, is actually a crime.  Don't believe me?  Check this out:
Section 199 of the Crimes Act.
     But Telstra aside, if this year resembled a piece of wood it would look like a dried out chunk of splintery chipboard, just before bushfire season.  A person's sense of self takes a few knocks when they find themselves without direction, empty spirited and chained to a phone.  There is more to it than that, of course.  There is a well used phrase that perfectly suits this annual sojourn around the sun and that phrase is this -
Shit went down.
     I wont go into the details, but simply put, various events pushed my already fragile mental state to its limit.  Looking back I feel as though I was force fragmented somehow, as though the shell of my mind had fractured but hadn't fully cracked.  It wasn't one specific thing.  There were trigger moments, definitely.  Specific points in time, certain choices, things said and unsaid, individuals caught in the fray.  It was a very very messy and difficult year, but in a way I can take from it a very strong positive.  I can take from it the knowledge that through the darkest days I could come to admit that I needed help.
     It's not just one year that causes a person to break down.  It comes at the end of a build up, like the barbed tail of a dragon catching to tear the roof off the last standing hut once the carnage has passed.  I had been trying very hard to hide from what I knew was coming.  I was testing my creativity for the first time since the trial of honours, but my confidence was shattered.  The Dialogue Experiment was my feeler project, and I had hoped that I could use it to make myself  inspired.  It worked, for a little while, until I realised that I was struggling to find anyone that had anything very interesting to say.
      The trouble with The Dialogue Experiment, aside from the obvious problem of needing to regularly overhear interesting, inspiring, humourous or thoughtful conversations, is the fact that it kept me online.  My self esteem was at an all time low.  I'd put on weight during my honours year and was struggling to lose it, I had no confidence in my ability as a writer or an artist, and I hated my job.  I didn't just hate it, I was ashamed of it.  Given that I was desperate to promote The Dialogue Experiment and the fact that Facebook is largely an exercise in shameless self-promotion, my increasing exposure to social media was causing me harm.  I came to the point where I realised that I resented my friends, and then I realised something I found more shocking.  I resented the ones that looked happy.
     I had to get off social media all together.  I had to get off of the internet and start looking at picking up my life.  A week passed and I abandoned The Dialogue Experiment.  I didn't log into Facebook.  I stayed away from Googling people I thought were interesting.  I started trying to find things to do that would make me happy.  And I went to see my doctor.
     I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and I found out I had low blood pressure as well, which didn't help.  For a while I was prescribed anti-depressants.  I am not ashamed to say now that I needed them.  After a time, it seemed they weren't working as well, and I took myself off of them, but for those first few weeks they were a lifesaver.  Admitting I needed help was the best thing I could have done.  It's a hell of a road and I've got a long way to go, but I have come a very long way too.  I know there are things I could do to help myself further.  I need to keep on top of regularly seeing a counselor.  I have to make sure I eat well and exercise, I need to tell myself to get up now and then.  But I'm a fighter, and I've made massive strides considering what I've come from.  I keep my head high like an Indian Brave.
     Which leads me to the point of this little comeback.  I've actually done a lot of work this year that I haven't really talked about and haven't given myself credit for.  My dear director friend, Gareth James has been writing, directing, editing, producing, etc, work for his production company, Dystopic Films, and for the last two years I've been sitting behind the scenes, reading scripts, helping to find props, providing locations (my house) and just generally acting as moral support.  This year though, I got my Gareth James acting debut, playing the role of Kate in his short, "Pictures in the Cutting Room" (2010).  It was a thoroughly incredible experience, and since then, Gareth and I have been co-writing and co-developing our first feature film, in which I am to play a role.  I wont give too much away at this point, but I will tell you this, it will be a psychological horror that brings horror back to a focus on human drama.  It's a lot of work, and a lot of preparation, but it's very invigorating so it's work I'm happy to do.
     I'm also due to be working on another dear friend's project in the coming months.  Joseph Brennan, a beautiful inspiring man, is working towards launching a new quarterly men's journal, Mettle, aimed at Gay males of which I will be a part of the editorial team.  So far, the first issue is due to be released in April.  And on that note, call for submissions is currently open, now accepting submissions of art, fiction, poetry and articles, if anyone is interested in submitting any work.  Please do, we'd love to hear from you.
     On my own, I gave Nanowrimo a go this year.  For those that don't know, it's like a marathon for writers.  The challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel in the 30 days of November.  For those that finish, you get a certificate.  There is no prize, just the satisfaction of knowing you have done it, of knowing  you can pull that kind of volume out of yourself in a short space of time.  Of course, the work is invariably terrible, but that is not the point.  Nano is designed to teach you to write fearlessly, and to have faith in what you can write.  I gave it my best.  This year I didn't finish, but I'm okay with that.  This November I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Florida and spend time getting to know my American family.  They are incredible people, and I have learned so much about myself getting to know them.  It was a clear choice, pump out another 30,000 words, or spend two weeks healing my soul and filling my mind with enough stories to write 100,000 words next year.  I got to 18,000 very strong words and am very proud.  I now have the solid ground work for a novel I have been wanting to write for 6 years, and I plan to keep going.  Expect to see updates on this blog in the coming weeks.
     To say it's been bumpy would be an understatement, but I'm getting there.  I am braver, I am stronger and I feel more grounded within myself.  I expect rough days and rocky seas, but I also expect that I can stand with the courage to brave the waves that smack into me.  This is my official re-opening of the Snowball Rolling Project.  Expect regular updates on creative projects, expect more stories and more art, and expect more honesty.  I plan to release a couple of things that have been on my chest as we go.  No more secrets, no more hiding and no more fear.  I said before that my secrets made me who I am.  No more.  I make me who I am.  Ask me a question and I will answer you honestly.  I'm throwing out the secrets that have hidden this beautiful face for far too long.  And me saying that  is not being  arrogant.  We are all of us, incredibly beautiful.  Some of us just don't know it yet.