63. Laid Low By Migraine – Journal Entry 5th Feb 1981

Ha! I’m up and about at last. It’s 5 pm and I spent all of yesterday and today flat on my back, brought low by a migraine.

Tuesday was a full day in Rocky with the family and a particularly excellent day of shopping. I bought a pair of blue trousers, which I discovered were too tight for me, however, I squeezed myself into them for a later theatre performance; a couple of very talented Italian clowns.

While in Rocky, I took Barbie to see Dr Morgan. He looked very familiar and I wondered where I had seen him – of course, he attended to mum at the Yeppoon Hospital! At that time, well before her car accident, she had an attack of hysteria and her body went rigid. Dr Morgan discussed her symptoms right in front of her, said it was a classic case of hysteria and put her on a course of tablets for a year.

Dr Morgan didn’t approve of Melleril for Barbara and thought that the long-term effects of Melleril were shocking. While in London, he had seen a whole ward of patients on Melleril, sitting with tongues lolling out of their mouths, hands and legs jerking. His demonstration looked frightening! He recommended Barbara take Lithium, a mild drug which prevented highly excitable periods in a patient’s emotional life. The time we spent waiting for Dr Morgan, and speaking with him for our appointment, seemed an inordinately long time; that’s the way of it now.

I dropped Barbie off and bought mash, which I had forgotten to buy earlier for Monika when Barbie and I went to the garage to fill the car with petrol. From there I went to pick up the bean bag Monika wanted and after the bean bag was securely fastened in the back of the moke, I continued on to St Paul’s Cathedral office for a meeting.

With a few minutes to spare before the meeting, I slipped across to George’s (the trouser specialist) to see if he had a suitable shirt to go with my new trousers. I was absorbed in the styles of shirts, not much variety actually, and turned to walk away from the racks, almost colliding with a man standing squarely in my way. I was astonished and a little alarmed. He was tall, dark-skinned and wore a single gold earring, the image of a picture-book pirate. I imagined him in pirate clothes, a cutlass between his teeth and a large green leering parrot on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, twisting away in the narrow passage between the shirts, sleeping bags and piles of large-brimmed khaki hats.
“I’m not…” he said in a low voice.

8th Feb 1981

Jung, and the pursuit of his unconscious is disturbing. It must have been terrifying for him and I will have to read his books before I can have a clear idea of what he is on about. It has encouraged me to work out my own vague or nagging fears and to write about them, however bizarre or trivial.

Why am I scared of going into the garden at night, or to the bathroom late at night? Why am I scared? Do I imagine I am going to see some spirit – the latest being Elaine who has just died – may she rest in peace. And why do I say rest in peace when I don’t believe in life after death?

I’m tired and cannot think clearly. I shall pursue this in the morning.

11th Feb 1981

I don’t think I shall continue with the 8th Feb entry. However, I wish to record my extremely severe migraine which lasted two days, the nausea almost constant. The last terrible migraine was over a year ago. The outcome of my migraine was that I listened to a good many tapes and lost a bit of weight, something I had been trying to do for at least six months.

14th Feb 1981

It is difficult to write about a migraine so long after the event. Perhaps it is better to forget the nasty experience. This morning I went to sleep at 1:45 am and reviewed my write-up of the weeks activities.

18th Feb 1981

Have to take hold of myself. Can’t do much Calculus I without revising P-Maths, so I must spend time working through Pre-Calculus. In fact, there will be no mucking around. I’ll need to reorganise my day to study as much as possible.

24th Feb 1981

Feeling frustrated, inadequate, guilty and mad. I want to go away for a while, somewhere I don’t have to do anything, see anybody or speak to anyone. Ridiculous I know. Shirking my responsibilities is a luxury I cannot have.

Let’s have optimistic thoughts, I’m lucky to be where I am, I’m lucky to be doing what I am doing, it’s a wonderful view and a cool, airy verandah. I’m sitting on a deck chair with the afternoon sun on me and Johnny is a wonderful man.

I’m dissatisfied because I have not made progress with Pascal. I can’t seem to write an appropriate note for a task set for me.

Last night was a night for celebration. Karen was chosen as female school captain (there was competition for the position) and Craig S was chosen as male school captain.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series and based on the journals of my mother.
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. Refer to Archived on the Home page and scroll through to the bottom.

55. The Nasty Mood Continued – Journal Entry 18th Aug 1980

The nasty mood continued. I had a particularly bad one and I was hurtful to Johnny.

We had a rather important discussion last night with reference to Ellerbrock’s article on Acne: we talked about faith healing and wondered how it worked; then looked at worry and stress and the damage it does. I said the body was in a state of siege and defined that to mean normal functions were stopped because the system was ready for an emergency, of an undefined sort, which could play havoc with the endocrine and nervous systems. Faith healing would appear to induce a relaxation that could be beneficial and is, in fact, beneficial because it would leave the body to get on with the repair.

Another important item of discussion was my observation that I would like to get back to being one hundred percent respectful and loving towards Johnny-blue-eyes. Apart from the problem of being together and thereby losing excitement through habituation, one has a closer idea of a person’s weaknesses. But now I realised that all of Johnny’s weaknesses are very minor and could be dealt with politely and easily. No, the problem as Johnny sees it is a cultural one, where being courteous and loving towards one’s spouse is not a prevalent habit, nor does it seem to be appreciated – though those who know us think Johnny and I have a wonderful relationship.

This morning I upset myself through a couple of minor skirmishes with Barbara and mum, but I did it to myself by not treating their incident as routine and minor. Being courteous and formal keeps emotions in check (and in perspective) rather than getting emotional then doing and saying things out of proportion to the incident.

I’m sick of lecturing to myself – why can’t I buckle down, steady up, just get on with it, instead of getting emotional and excited – to the point of not being able to breathe properly. Then I use this as an excuse for not doing work?

Johnny’s on holiday and it is very good to have him at his desk. At the moment he is trying to get a bumper bar for the moke. The bullbar we had proved too heavy for the moke and it snapped a steel mounting. A new bullbar costs $90, plus fitting costs, and the wreckers don’t seem to have anything suitable. Oh well, yet another bill. We could use the $50 I earned towards half a bullbar or tow.

19th Aug 1980

Illnesses must be regarded as madness of the body, indeed as “idees fixes” according to Novalis.

To get back to Johnny and my small talk a couple of nights back, I re-read Ellerbrock’s article again and found these hypotheses of his alarming, though Johnny says it’s something we’ve known about for a while.

  • “Human language, [a product of perceptual/cognitive/affective processes] reflects the error and distortions inherent in those processes; the language learned and used, with inherent errors, in turn, leads to additional perceptual and behavioural errors.”
  • “Irrational verbal behaviour, so readily allowing the making of statements contrary to reality, and irrational non-verbal behaviours initiate circular feedbacks which tend toward multiple repetitions, with corresponding amplification of the harmful responses of the body and the brain.” Both quotes from Ellerbrock, Co-Evolution Quarterly.

Anita called briefly yesterday to introduce us to her new husband. They seem very happy. It was good to see two people getting on well, especially after a long first marriage to someone else; presumably, Peter was married before too.

Madonna brought her horse to graze in our paddock. He’s albino and hence called Pinkie. His eyes are a peculiar colour, his mane and tail plaited with pretty string.

What else happened yesterday? Johnny went into Rockhampton to a meeting and came home with half a pig from the Schulz household, Gareth made a macrame hanging, Gran went to a lecture on prayer. Nathaniel is not well, nor is Gareth, and Barbara has the sniffles too. Marcello is not well this morning and was up most of the night because of Nathaniel’s crying. Johnny and Gareth cooked us an excellent roast mutton with turnips and yellow rice, followed by brandy snaps. I did some weeding and Barbara helped by bringing the grass for mulching around the plants.

We waited up for Gran who came in at 10:30 pm and then Johnny and I settled down to spend time together in the study until 1 am.

Mum80s
Gita in the study, early 1980s

 

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series and based on the journals of my mother.
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. Refer to Archived on the Home page.

43. Christmas Day – Journal Entry 25th Dec 1979

Christmas at last for the kids. We sat around the tree and each person chose a present addressed to himself and we watched while it was opened. A delightful ritual, Barbara, in particular, was wide-eyed and eager about Christmas and the opening of presents. She was given perfume, soaps and bubble bath scents by Karen and Monika and she loved them. She had a bath this morning with her new cosmetics and has invited me to use some too.

It’s nice to be writing in the diary but before I go further, I must work out why I feel frustrated with Johnny – at moments very intensely. It’s a contradiction because if I saw someone behaving badly towards Johnny, I’d be the first to defend him and attempt to protect him. So how to go about this… perhaps if I noted down the occasions of irritation:

  1. Didn’t want to go swimming this morning at 11 am. It seemed the hottest morning yet. At 8 am this morning the heat whacked you hard. On the road to the beach, Johnny made some comment (which I can’t remember) and I said, “Working up the right frame of mind to go swimming?” and he said, “Oh Gita.” I can’t remember but all I knew was that it was a short answer and I thought inappropriate.
  2. Made comments on my comments about the rice (made by Gran) not being heated well. Said it was the nature of the method of cooking, knew all about it, had lots of experience. Bullshit in this case, Gran admitted to being hasty and taking the pan off too soon.
  3. Told Karen I would withdraw my offer to wash up as it was her turn and she tended to swap washing up duties if she could. But I don’t think I put it well. Karen looked a little put out but admitted, however, that she didn’t like washing up. Johnny asked me to stop recriminating and I didn’t agree we were. Could be wrong.

Surely this general feeling of irritation is because I haven’t written much for a while.

27th Dec 1979

Johnny and I sorted out my general irritability. It was mainly my fault, which I projected onto him. Also agreed that Johnny nagged occasionally. So much general tension over mum, Barbara, and occasionally the kids.

I must record our Christmas dinner. It was so very very good. We should really reserve it for Christmas and not repeat it during the year.

We had:

  • Roast turkey stuffed with rice and apricots
  • Beans and corn in butter
  • Spherical chips
  • Gravy and Rosella jam

The large size of the turkey was novel for us and the meat was tender and delicious.

Johnny beamed with pleasure at the determined way we ate our food and demanded more. Pudding was mango and cherry salad with orange juice jelly, cream and ice-cream. Sighs of pleasure from everyone. A real success.

Boxing Day lunch was:

  • Moreton Bay bugs and lots of prawns
  • A dish of aioli to dip them into
  • A salad of onion, olives and leftover beans
  • Rolls and a couple of other things I can’t remember.

A gorge. Dinner, following that, was simple:

  • Avgolemono soup
  • Cake
  • Fruit
  • Ice-cream and cream.
  • Apple turnovers at Barbie’s request.

Our trees have been supplying us with bananas. Borrowed a book from the library on growing bananas to help us grow better ones.

Finish reading Lewis’ Social Anthropology in Perspective and have started Emery’s Towards a Social Ecology. Excuse me, I’ll put a record on the player. Indian maybe? Flute by Ramani, an exciting and poignant recording.

I love my love with Johnny because he’s Johnny and has given me so much. Terribly loyal guy. I love that best of all, the fiercely loyal streak in him.

In the meanwhile, I’ve read Phallos by some Danish psychologist and dipped into a book called Surrogate Wife – a bit of pornography wrapped up in pop psychology. The book Phallos was disappointing.

Today is Friday and what has happened?

Finished Phallos, helped a little with changing the door in Gareth’s new room and had a long discussion with Johnny on Passmore’s Perfectability of Man.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.