My life seemed to be in disarray and as I had a lot of time on my hands, I needed to do something. I volunteered, two days a week, as a driver, at a drug rehabilitation centre, called Shalom.

I used to ferry groups of men from the property to the doctor at the medical centre. I found this rewarding as I was able to chat, help and share in other people’s lives. I did this for nine months. It took my mind off my own problems as these men were much worse off than I.

As they were trying to get their lives back on track, I was encouraged to find a clean start myself. I have found throughout my life that if you want help you need to give help.

At this stage my old friends asked me to look after their house for six weeks. I agreed.

Prior to this I had been negotiating to buy a yacht in Queensland. I believed this was what I wanted to do. Fortunately, my friend guided me away from the yacht idea and I decided to opt for the house sitting and think some more. I was basically wanting to run away. If the yacht had happened, I would have been in major difficulty.

My stroke and troubled mind were in the wilderness, and I seemed to be facing many thoughts and directions at the crossroads. You shouldn’t run from something you must go to something.

A stroke affected mind has many dark corridors.

Eventually my friends offered me their granny flat to live in as long as I liked. I was in two minds about this, but I knew it was the right thing to do and it made me independent and gave me a certain amount of stability in my stroke affected mind.

At this time, I didn’t want to be with other people, I felt isolated and terribly, terribly alone, being with others only re-enforced it. I could just handle my own company and counsellors as they would help me but were not involved. To me they could be Mr and Ms Nobody. Eventually I clawed my way back from the embarrassment and failure of my marriage.

60th Birthday Party

I was invited to the 60th birthday party of an old friend. I certainly did not want to go. I knew there would be lots of people there, mostly couples. This would, I knew intensify my feeling of terrible failure. I put much pressure on myself and at the last moment I accepted the invitation.

When I got there, I removed my shit goggles and managed to bullshit, chat, and laugh my way out. After the speeches were made, I quietly slipped away as I was mentally exhausted trying to juggle the two emotions of negativity and positivity.

I have been with my friends since 2018.

Finally, I feel I am becoming a human being again and those dark passages where I was once killing bats are now lighting up again. My need for the exit plan started to diminish.

Speech Pathology

I have finished with therapists, though they still use me so their students can practice on me. One time I was asked to give two talks to the Speech Pathology classes. There were about seventy-five students in all. This was daunting!

The co-ordinator wanted to understand a stroke victim’s point of view. I was extremely nervous but because it was my story, I was able to tell the truth. Mostly when I get nervous, I bluff and bullshit my way out.

One of the classes was interrupted by a real fire alarm. We all evacuated. The coordinator thought that the students would take the opportunity to go home early as it was nearly the end of the day. Surprisingly, they all came back to hear the rest of my story.

At the end of my speeches there were many questions and a lot of students seemed to be moved. That gave me great confidence especially when one took me aside and started to cry. She was particularly understanding as one of her close family had had a stroke.

Students before had only learned about strokes from books and so my ‘lecture’ was useful for them to see and understand a real-life example of a stroke victim from the other side of the fence. To me stroke victims process their thoughts in an unusual way and it’s difficult to explain these thoughts to someone who hasn’t had the experience. My talks seemed to help the students comprehend.

Once I was over the initial nervousness of being in front of people, I started to loosen up and felt my story started to flow. I was even able to crack jokes. The students laughed. This gave me confidence. I knew we were on the same wavelength.

In the initial stages of therapy, I was unable to explain a single thing, so at last I was able to be understood by the rest of the world. I almost felt normal. I now know that it is super important to share and talk to people, to clear up, to spell out and throw light on things. Even though I cocked up talking so many times, it didn’t matter, I was improving in every way. I was still in the minus scale on the graph but at least I was moving in the right direction.

Happily, I have found, that people are more understanding than I would have ever believed.

Be Kind, I’m From the Country

Coming from a country town living in Perth was at first intimidating. At one point I felt I should get a bumper sticker saying, ‘BE KIND I’M FROM THE COUNTRY’.

I found the traffic daunting and therefore I had to be especially aware and on the ball as my licence was to be reviewed every year. I noticed fellow drivers not paying attention, using mobiles, putting make-on etc. I could see potential crashes most days. The last thing I wanted, was to be involved in an accident so I worked extra hard at being careful and alert. I really had to concentrate and that put an extra burden on me. I couldn’t, even at this stage, listen to the radio and drive. I was almost paranoid about losing my licence because without a car I would be useless.

At this stage I had begun to feel that I was ready to join the human race again, even if it were at a slower pace. I was starting to feel better, and I was beginning to feel the fog in my head lifting. We often read about people being ‘at the crossroads’ of life. Well I was surely at the crossroads and also in the wilderness at the same time. I was well and utterly lost. I had a double dose of bitter, sweet confusion. In other words, I still had a long way to go but I was beginning to briefly feel hopeful. Most importantly I wanted something to do – find a job and get an income, no easy feat at my age and having been a stroke victim.

Disability Services & Work

I have been to the Disability Services where I was helped to apply for jobs, I had had a really good resume in my past life, but now, what I could do was extremely limited. I was once a fleet master, where I helped to manage ten prawn trawlers and now, I couldn’t even get a job as a packer.

I went from the penthouse of my life to the shithouse, and there were no floors in between. Now I am trying to get back to the first storey.

I still find it difficult to follow instructions and conversations as they seem to go very fast. I need to find a job where I can work at my own pace – but this has seemed impossible. In the real world it’s all about time and money and no one wants to pay out for sincere, but not very good service, which is fair enough.