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Newsletter - November 2023

Welcome to all new subscribers and a warm hello to those who have returned. You can access my earlier newsletters via the archive on my website.

The November newsletter is coming to you from Japan where hubby and I are enjoying our first overseas holiday without our children. We have just walked a section of the Kumano Kodō pilgrimage trail together. It gives me goosebumps to follow in the footsteps of thousands of others who have sought enlightenment, fresh wisdom, or spiritual refreshment. The trail requires a good level of fitness with long hilly, rocky sections but the scenery is breathtaking.

Here is a glimpse of one of our walks.

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It reminded us of Ghibli country (for any other fans out there).

Hubby spent several hours in a virtual queue a few months ago to ensure we secured tickets to the Ghibli Museum so we could immerse ourselves in Hayao Miyazaki’s work. We enjoyed our visit, but the museum is very small and for other fans out there, the focus is on Miyazaki’s creative process rather than on the movies themselves. There is a room devoted to his drawings with a library of books on every topic from botany to the history of flight which inspired his incredible imagination. You can flick through detailed story boards with meticulous instructions in Japanese alongside his diagrams of well-known and beloved characters. To quote the museum owner, A museum where people who want to have fun can have fun, people who want to think can think and people who want to feel can feel. This is an art museum that will make you feel a bit fuller when you leave!’

Note - You must purchase your tickets for Ghibli Museum on the tenth day of the month when you plan to visit Tokyo. You must print them out and arrive with your passport to gain admission! Tickets sell fast.

Now back to my regular newsletter where each month, I will continue to share something about my running habit, some writing tips as well as some wisdom from the GP’s desk, a book review and one of my pieces of writing. Last newsletter, one piece of feedback prompted me to highlight some of the main points for busy readers who only have time to do a quick scan. Let me know if this worked for you. Do send feedback so that I can shape my words to best suit you, the subscriber.

I am curious about other writers lives outside writing and hope to give you a glimpse into my writing running world.

It has been a big couple of months for me. My novel The Truth about My Daughter was accepted for publication by Hawkeye Publishing and signing that contract was one of the most exciting things I have done since beginning this writing gig in 2018.

I have since received a detailed structural edit by Lauren E. Daniels award winning writer, editor and teacher and was fortunate to have a planned week off allowing me to spend long days polishing and rewriting my words while holidaying on Bundjalung country.

The novel placed second in the 2023 Hawkeye Publishing Manuscript Development Award.

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Judges commented that The Truth About My Daughter is a "refreshing, immersive and compelling read about family drama, conflict, tragedy and redemption" written as two timelines that eventually intertwine, based on the relationship between two sisters and the experiences that shaped them. 

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And join me in sending congratulations to Camille Booker who came first and Samantha Trayhurn who placed third.


Running

I didn’t run my first marathon till my forties. I was at a social event when an acquaintance mentioned that it was on her bucket list to do a marathon before she turned forty. I’d missed that milestone but remember thinking, how hard can it be and the following day, signed up to run the Brisbane Marathon.

My training consisted of running a bit longer and further each week and I figured on the day I would just keep running till I finished. On the morning of the event, I turned up to the start line wearing my cotton tee shirt and shorts. I had graduated to decent running shoes but didn’t bring any gels or sports drinks, not considering that my body might burn through my breakfast and glycogen stories by 25K or so.

It was so much tougher than I imagined running 42.2K. I walked from 35K to 37K and then got my second wind and ran the final 5.2k. My kids joined me for the final 100m and stepped over the finish line by my side. Exhausted, I collapsed while the family brought me apple juice and bananas. I swore I would never run another marathon.

The exhilaration of finishing a marathon is like childbirth. Your body is flooded with hormones, and you recreate and reshape the whole experience into a story to be shared again and again with little embellishments as time passes. I signed up to run another marathon and then another.

In 2014, my husband went back to full time study, and I was the sole breadwinner for two years. I signed up to do a marathon a month to give me something challenging to focus on. Each month the family raised money for a different charity. Hubby and the kids did the lion’s share of the fundraising. It was a transformative year. We learnt so much about the incredible work done by twelve different organisations through the donated time and effort of volunteers. All three children still regularly participate in fundraising, support causes they believe in and remain vocal in their opinions about perceived injustice.

For those who read my September newsletter, you will remember me writing about how I run a marathon. It has been such a helpful way for me to not only run marathons but deal with big challenges in my life, I will share it again. This time, highlighted.

People often ask me, ‘How do you run a marathon?’ I reply that I never run 42.2k in my head. I run seven kilometres, six times. Most of us can manage seven kilometres. It turns out this is an effective way to live life. Divide insurmountable challenges into bite sized pieces in your head. The most important part of any challenge is to keep going. One step, one word, one day at a time.

Walk or slow down if you have to. Just don’t stop   

    

Writing – Pearls of Wisdom

Pearl number three - Enduring the Tough Times

In my September newsletter, I promised to bring you one of my seven pearls of wisdom each month. If you are interested in the first two pearls, you can access the archive of newsletters via my website.

These pearls grew out of a chi running programme I did in my preparation for doing a marathon a month in 2014. The advice has translated perfectly to other areas in life, including my writing.

Injury is almost inevitable for the long-term runner. This requires adjustments to be made to training and always involves a reduction if not cessation of running for a while. The injured runner may need to cycle, swim, and do some rehabilitation exercises while recovering.

Writing is no different. There may be a period where you lack inspiration, or when you receive rejection after rejection.

Life is tough. Illness, death, divorce, relationship breakdown, unexpected overtime, financial stress are just some of the ways your writing can be derailed.

The truth is that however passionate and talented you are, you will hit roadblocks and challenges. Writing is a tough gig.

Be kind to yourself.

Never be afraid to reach out for help.

Keep in touch with your tribe. If you have a writing group, keep attending even if you are unable to write or give feedback yourself. Allow yourself to feel the warm wave of comfort of being with friend(s) or family who are there without expectation and who accept you just the way you are.

Spend a little time each day just noticing. The feeling of shower water on your skin. The taste of coffee on your tongue. The warmth of sunshine on your skin. Absorb the details of the everyday, the mundane. Be present

When you feel overwhelmed by life try the following simple exercise.

It is a simple technique called rescue breathing or first aid for mental health. Sit up straight with both feet firmly on the ground, hands comfortable in your lap. Let your shoulders relax. When you are ready, take a breath and feel your diaphragm pull your lungs down. Feel the air fill your lungs. Hold the air in your lungs for the count of three, then release it while saying the word, relax, to yourself. Hold the exhalation for a count of three.

Repeat this for three breaths.

It is often enough to bring you back to the present moment, away from rumination about the past and worry about the future.

Life requires adjustments, sometimes forces you to change course.

Pull back and reduce the amount you write. If you are experiencing grief or loss, the only writing you may be capable of for a few months is to keep a journal. Use this to chronicle your emotional and or physical pain. You may only manage a word or a line to capture how you are feeling. Treat yourself to a real notebook, one with blank pages and a beautiful cover. Let it carry the burden of your pain, the weight of your feelings.

The act of emptying your head onto a page is therapeutic. Our experiences good and bad, shape who we are, who we become. When we write, we use words to make our experiences accessible to others. We share our vulnerability, our humanity and readers are relieved to learn they are not alone.

You may never share your journal words with anyone, but inevitably your tough times will spill into your writing, consciously or unconsciously. You may have signed up to write your novel when your life derailed and may instead find yourself writing about the challenges of a difficult diagnosis, the joy of an unplanned pregnancy, the grief of losing a loved one.

The words resulting from your tough times will inform others, give them hope and encouragement that they are not alone.

Writing less can sometimes be more.

It may be that your detour through the tough times takes you to exactly where you need to be.


GP Wisdom

Mental health is a key component to overall wellbeing. The Australian Bureau of Statistics National Study of Mental Health and Wellbeing indicate that over two in five Australians aged 16-85 years (43.7%) have experienced a mental health issue at some time in their lives. One in five (21.4%) had a twelve-month mental disorder with anxiety the most common group of twelve-month disorders (16.8%).

There is a much broader acceptance of mental health disorders which has rightly reduced stigma, but a recent study undertaken by The University of Melbourne suggests that there is an increasing tendency to pathologize normal emotions. Words matter and as health literacy expands and social media becomes a central source of information for many, terms like anxiety and depression are increasingly used to describe grief, sadness and worry, all part of a healthy range of emotions.

I recently consulted with a patient, Gayle who lost her father after a prolonged period of treatments for prostate cancer. She was very close to him and came in requesting anti-depressants and sleepers as she was not coping. While I will sometimes prescribe something to sleep for a few days, the death of an elderly relative is a very sad but normal part of life and the grief process one which has been well described. It is painful and difficult, but not necessarily a disorder requiring medication. She needed kindness and support from family and friends. I encouraged her to put together an album of photographs and memories of her father, a tribute to the important role he played in her life. We talked about anniversaries in the upcoming year – birthdays, Christmas, the date of diagnosis and she put plans in place for managing these important dates. I suggested some time off work, prescribed a sleeper for a few nights and arranged to see her again in a fortnight, reinforcing that grief is a normal and necessary emotion.

Another patient, Dale, is worried about an upcoming conference where work has asked him to give a presentation and to arrange a merchandise stall. He has self-diagnosed anxiety and is wanting a prescription to help him manage. I reassured him that it is normal to feel anxious about doing a public presentation as it is outside his comfort zone and unfamiliar. It is not a disorder requiring medication. He agreed to do an online series of sessions about managing situational anxiety.

The terms anxiety, depression and trauma have slipped into the lexicon with their meanings broadened to include transient and functional emotional states that we all experience. The reality is that uncertainty is a normal part of life and will cause discomfort. The problem with applying a label and diagnosis to every perceived negative emotion or challenging experience is that it is disempowering for individuals who are struggling with mental health disorders that have significant impacts on their day-to-day ability to function normally.

Words are important and they convey a depth of meaning to our conversations. It is very positive that mental health issues are now discussed openly in the public domain with the experiences of those whose lives are impacted with diagnoses given a voice and their stories being heard.

Meanwhile, it is also important to build resilience, to learn to manage emotions that are labelled in a negative way yet are an integral part of the human experience. Sadness, grief, anger and worry are normal and healthy. The antidepressant sertraline has entered Australia’s top ten most commonly taken medications and is prescribed for depression and anxiety as noted by the journal Australian Prescriber. There are many people who derive great benefit from this class of antidepressant, and it can be life changing.

I am concerned that more and more patients present requesting a prescription to blunt the experience of being human.

We have become so busy, we rush through life seeking quick solutions to every glitch, every discomfort and inconvenience. Over the next few newsletters, I will outline some non-pharmaceutical ways to manage uncomfortable feelings.

And remember, if you have been prescribed medication, seek medical advice before ceasing. These medications do play an important role in managing a range of mental health issues.    

Note – all names have been changed to preserve confidentialit


What I’m Reading

I recently attended one of Avid Reader’s excellent evenings titled, The Silent Keepers. It featured not only two exceptional authors but artwork by the very talented Frazer Campbell. Do check out his webpage. The event was organised by writer Cass Moriarty who interviewed Al Campbell and Lyn Yeowart. It was an excellent event spent sipping a glass of wine, enjoying original artwork and listening to two award winning authors discuss not only their books but the experiences of childhood trauma that informed their writing.

Orange Girl and Green Girl by Frazer Campbell (2023) - Acrylic and oil on canvas Paper

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The Keepers by Al Campbell

With the Royal Commission into violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation of people with disability report released it felt timely to do a review of Al’s extraordinary book. It is a personal story about a woman Jay who is the carer of her two sons, each with unique and challenging needs and a different way of seeing the world. While navigating the convoluted and complex pathways needed to access support for her sons, the reader learns about Jay’s own childhood trauma growing up with an abusive and manipulative mother.        

Jay keeps scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings detailing the abuses that have since been tabled by a royal commission. The accounts reveal the personal faces of victims and their families while reinforcing the low value society places on those who live with disability, The Courier Mail reports four-year-old had horrific sores on her body after being starved and left to die…Willow had sores on her hips so deep the bones were exposed when police found her.

Yet even while Jay navigates the NDIS to meet the complex needs of her sons and attempts to outrun her own childhood, the central theme of this incredible story is one of fierce love. The love of a mother for her sons and how this, together with the magical voice of Keep sustains them through impossible challenges and hardship. The story is heartbreaking and heart-warming in equal measure.

A beautiful book that gives a loud and very human voice to the volumes of data recently collated by the royal commission.


The Silent Listener - by Lyn Yeowart

I always get so much more from a novel when I have listened to the author speak about the process of writing it and this was particularly important for this powerful and gripping story. Lyn used her own childhood experience of horrific physical abuse as the scaffolding for this vivid and haunting novel. In a story told over three timelines, the protagonist Joy Henderson grows up in a family deeply immersed in dark secrets and lies. Her apparently upstanding father, a community stalwart much loved by all transforms into a monster at home.

The story begins when Joy comes home to care her dying father, her heart full of anger and wanting vengeance on the man who made her life hellish. The reader learns about Joy’s parent’s early years of marriage and her own growing up inside the walls of this violent and terrifying home. The plot twists and turns through three different eras heightening the suspense until a decades old unsolved crime helps Joy to finally avenge her father bringing the tale to a breathtaking and unexpected conclusion.

The chilling message of this story is that family and community members were aware of the abuse but turned away, reluctant to become involved. Silence protects abusers, condones their actions, and allows their behaviour to continue unchecked. Every one of us has a responsibility to speak out, to check in with friends or neighbours when we have concerns.


One of my Stories

In Each newsletter I will share with you a piece of my writing. This piece was written for a new competition called Not Quite Write. As well as running this cool competition, Ed and Amanda have a regular podcast and it is well worth listening to.

I wrote this piece after seeing the human side of the homelessness crisis we are currently experiencing. The prompts for the writing challenge reminded me of one of my young patients, trying to study after leaving her traumatic childhood home. She was forced to move out of her student accommodation when the cost of rental increased to more than her meagre Centrelink allowance. Her casual part time job was insufficient to cover the cost of essentials and I referred her to a service providing emergency support and accommodation. There are excellent services available, but they are underfunded and overwhelmed. Consider donating some time or money to Brisbane Youth Service, Fortitude Valley.

I was delighted when my piece of flash fiction about homelessness long listed for the first Not Quite Write competition.


Longing for Home

When Ned sees the brown-haired woman walking home wearing a red coat, he knows she’s the one.

‘Dad, that lady.’

Dad nudges the van forward, nearly hitting the rear bumper of the BMW that paused in front of them. ‘Too young and smart.’

Ned pretends he doesn’t hear. She’s not pretty, but Ned imagines her to be like the mum he wished he had. Someone who worried about you, made you a packed lunch for school. He wrestles the door open and jumps out.

Dad has no choice but to follow through. He’s mad, but this time Ned doesn’t care. He’s sick of doing jobs, missing school, living in Dad’s van. It was fun at first, but now he’s tired of the adventure and wants a home, a mum, a normal life.

The suburb is leafy and green, the yards tidy. Ned follows her until she turns and unlatches a gate.

 Ned runs up, frantic and tugs at her coat. ‘I’ve lost my dad.’

She bends down, and looks at him, her eyes an impossible violet.

‘Do you know his number?’

Ned shoves his hands in his pockets, suddenly ashamed of how scruffy he is, how his shorts hang loose around his knees. He rattles off digits. She punches them into her phone with perfect manicured fingers, little knowing dad is parked half a block away.

‘Come on inside and I’ll fix you something to eat. He’s on his way.’

Everything inside is perfect, like a magazine. Flowers sit in a large glass vase on a sideboard. She disappears, comes back wearing jeans and a sweater and fixes him cheesy toast with a glass of milk.

The doorbell rings.

‘He’s right in here. I’m Jess by the way.’

Dad comes in and she offers him a coffee, invites him to sit down while Ned eats.

Ned asks to use the toilet and she points down the hall. This is when he’s meant to scan the rooms, for jewellery, iPhones things easily tucked into pockets.

Her handbag sits on the bed, wallet on top, there are dangly pearl earrings, gold chains, a diamond studded bracelet on the dresser. His hand hovers over a set of air pods with longing.

Suddenly Jess is at the door. ‘Are you looking for something?’

Ned freezes, heavy with shame. He waits for her to tell Dad, but she doesn’t.

Half an hour later, they leave. Ned knows Dad will be angry they left with nothing.

‘Just a minute.’ Jess presses something into Ned’s hand. He closes his fingers around it, confused.

It’s dark and Dad is driving. Ned pretends to sleep in the back, the blanket prickly against his skin. He opens the box and realises Jess has gifted him the air pods. He shoves his prize into his pocket, determined to keep it.

‘Dad.’

Silence.

‘I don’t want to do this anymore.’

There is only the hum of the engine as the van pushes through the darkness to nowhere.