A trip down memory lane and rambling on

I’m using my laptop to write this post from Yahoo Mail. What I don’t know how to do is add a new contact to the address book. So I’m hoping that sending this post will somehow get the server to recognise that I want the email address to be saved. I can’t say it’ll work that way, but I can only hope so. I’ve been reading back through my posts, and man I’ve come a long way since seven years ago when I first started the blog! Ok, so back then I knew how to live life, but there was a lot of bad writing and I still hadn’t learnt how to live independently properly yet. Wow!

Some posts though, really made me wish I’d never gotten a guide dog. As much as I love dogs and I love Troy and I loved him as a guide dog, all the problems I went through wouldn’t have happened had he never come into my life. Yet at the same time I’d never have had any good times working a guide dog had I never met Troy. A lot of the time me and Troy were a very good guide dog team. But sometimes people would make shit up about me, and the Guide Dogs organisation in South Australia would dismiss everything I said regardless of facts or fiction. What people said over the phone to her or other guide dog organisations was fact regardless of whether it was truth or lie, no facts needed to be considered, just presume and accuse, was the name of the game. It would be like someone saying that oh, so-and-so did this, then I ring said so-and-so, then accuse them and after asking questions, still not believe anything so-and-so had to say no matter what actually happened! Well, Not only was I let down, but this alone is a deal-breaker for me getting another guide dog. Everything else I can be forgiving of, false accusations can’t be forgiven. Not that I hold separate special grudges so to speak, but I’m not prepared to risk making mistakes that other people may perceive as intentional cruelty or appear to be doing something wrong based on somebody’s perception of the situation just for the shit to hit the fan and come back to me as some story based on perceptions rather than on what the truth of the matter is. For example, I can be accused of cruelty if Troy, or let’s say another dog, puts on too much weight. Well, that’s a false accusation because if the dog puts on weight, then all that needs to be said is that I need to feed the dog less food for a while. Yet people can take a situation and turn it into something else entirely, and make someone else get into trouble because they convince Guide Dogs staff of what presumably happened, not what the actual facts are. Weight is one example. Leash correction is another example where people can conjure up some story of me, or someone else, apparently abusing their guide dog. Now sometimes abuse may well have happened. So, in this case, instead of just falsely accusing me, find out the facts of the story first, and then accuse me of something I really did! Presuming what I do doesn’t make it true. So this is why I’m not prepared to get another guide dog, I’m sick of having to live my life as though I’m owned by the public eye. Well, I’m definitely not here to be disapproved of or approved of by others, unless of course I’m actually doing something deliberately abusive or dangerous. This is where Guide Dogs needs to investigate properly to get the facts of the story. And, asking me what happened and then deciding I must be lying without any proof of it, makes me feel even less of the person questioning. It would be like the cops asking if I’ve abused a child, I say no I didn’t do so, then I get punished for abusing a child when the cops have not sought any proof of me abusing the child! I may love dogs as guides, but dealing with people who make up stories and organisations who don’t find out all the facts first before throwing blame and fault, is not an experience I want to repeat. Even police and RSPCA inspectors can’t arrest people without reasonable proof that the person is a possible suspect, and even then, after finding out that there’s not enough proof of a crime or misdemeanour, they have to let the suspect go. I don’t know why disability organisations have to think they’re so special that they can blame and accuse before finding out the whole story first.

I keep remembering the day I arrived in Cairns back in 2012. It was a memorable one. This post was done a couple of weeks after I moved into a unit, not the one I’m in now. I was so glad to move over here! Since then I’ve stopped visiting most family members although I used to visit family a lot when I first arrived. Then a lot of shit happened, including eye problems, psychological problems etc. Now thank God, I’m totally over it. I still get anxious sometimes, but the anxiety is related to different stuff now and I have to say it’s not as bad! I don’t have flashbacks about my eye operations and weird and wonderful issues to boot, so often now. I actually don’t regret my eye surgery. I don’t even regret the fact that I had to sort my eyes out. I actually regretted all the side effects of recovery from these operations and most of the drugs! When I got sick back in April, I did relapse with some of my psychological issues from years ago, e.g aversion to water, was craving junk and take-away food a lot because that’s all I wanted to eat, etc. Well, the wonderful doctor helped me to a large degree to get over this crap. She basically told me I’d have to keep drinking water all the time until I feel like I’m used to drinking it without feeling sick, and then I could just drink as much as I liked after that. Well I’m so glad and so lucky I didn’t get any sicker, and that my chest issues were only a virus! Now, I can eat and drink like a fucking horse! Water doesn’t make me feel sick at all. I can eat until the cows come home. And I make sure to eat vegies with almost every meal. I still hate aeroplanes, no amount of chewing gum will make me feel better when I’m flying. Just give me a pill, some food and water, and let me sleep it off. My ears can pop later when I feel a bit better to eat and drink normally again. I’ll only fly if I have to. I still hate doctors, I won’t just go to one because I can. I have to be really worried to go there. As for surgery, no I’d rather die than have surgery. I may change my mind when it comes to crunch time, but now I’m like, no way! As for my eyes, I’m supposed to see a doctor every year to check them. Well, that’s not happening either. I don’t need a doctor. It’s that simple. If I’m not sick, I don’t need a doctor to tell me what I already know. If they can tell me I need to be checked for certain conditions which don’t show up straight away until you’re really sick, then maybe I’ll get checked. But I won’t go to the doctor just for a health check when I feel no reason to see one. I’m getting worried about my foot, so let’s hope it doesn’t stuff up. There’s a crack right where I cut my foot last year, and I’m getting terrified that something is going wrong with the scar. It hurts very mildly sometimes and it itches occasionally. I’m hoping moisturising cream will help it. Doctors are a last resort for me.

If there’s one thing that I do regret and I still wish it hadn’t happened, I totally can’t stand how I nearly got a job after starting a cooking preparation course, but I lost the job because I had to leave Darwin and go to Cairns suddenly! July was the worst month for me in 2012. I had to get away from Mum because we fought like cats and dogs. I’m still not happy about it, but I can put it to the back of my mind now, most of the time. I’m still angry at Mum, and when we have good conversations on the phone I’m fine, but when we argue, I let her have it. She blames me when things go wrong, but here she is being as fucking abusive as she can be. She blames other people including me, of the problems that happen in our lives, yet she’s always perfect, always fixes her problems, etc. Ok, well how about she fix her abuse problem then? And maybe she’ll be more perfect. Stupid bitch. Sorry guys, but me and Mum aren’t very compatible. I won’t even drink alcohol when I’m around her, I know if I visit her, alcohol is not happening because we fight too much and then we don’t know who started it and who was at fault for what. Mum can’t even stay with me for twenty-four hours, we fight hours after she arrives. So I won’t let her stay with me anymore. I’m really glad I moved into another unit! I tell you what, the other unit was pretty good, but by the time I left the place, I couldn’t get away quick enough. By then, I was having trouble with a neighbour who was situated in a house behind the complex. His dog just wouldn’t shut up, and I couldn’t take it any longer after a few months of the same shit every day. I won’t suggest that getting even was the right thing to do, but Jesus bloody Christ I was so so mad for dealing with the mutt for ever! I decided I wanted to move to Brisbane, but it never happened. Instead, I moved into this place. I did have the opportunity to go, but after finding out about how nice this place was, I really wanted to stay. Each year from then on, I’m given the opportunity to leave or even leave town if I really want to. But, nope I’m here to stay for a long while. My health is at an all-time high, so please for God’s sake, stay that way! There are times where I buy take-away meals, but not every week let alone every day. I don’t walk as much as I used to, but for the time being it doesn’t matter. And yes, I may be getting a doctor to see to my foot before I bugger it up, when I eventually get into walking all the time after the city Council fixes the shopping complex down the road so that I can actually walk there I can’t say this accessibility bullshit will be sorted in five minutes, but I’m sure we can work something out. It would be lovely to be able to walk to the shops and bring some groceries home. No more having to spend money on taxis or catch a bus, unless of course I want to go somewhere else. Actually, I’m going to try to organise for a Council worker to have a look at the place near the shopping centre, where the car park is. I’m sure they could create a walkway somewhere! There’s a grocery store and a couple of cafes at this shopping complex, and walking there would give me so much more exercise. I don’t even like exercising, but if a walk means getting bread and milk, geeze! I’ll walk to and from the shops every frigging day.

Wow! I think this is like the longest blog I’ve written in forever. Oh my God. But what I can say is, this year hasn’t been as bad as other years. Last year I had to deal with illnesses, and the year before that, as well as dramas. This year I dealt with some illness, but I haven’t had it too badly ass a general rule. Troy is doing fantastic. Yes he may be getting old, and aches and pains are starting to catch up with him now, but overall Troy is doing really good. He’s doing better than I expected of him as an almost eleven-year-old. When a guide dog trainer retired him in February this year, she was surprised that Troy was still doing as good as he was. Most dogs deteriorate by his age and are ready to be put down. But not Troy! He’s an exceptional dog. But even the vets said that really good dog owners can’t stop a dog’s health from declining once it starts. Basically, all I can do from now on is to continue with Troy’s excellent vet care, his good food, exercise and so on. But nothing I do will make Troy any better, he’ll just start to deteriorate over time, and depending on the dog it can be a slow or fast progression. Apparently me taking good care of Troy is making it so much easier for him to age gracefully and cope with his slowly worsening arthritis issues, but when it does come to the crunch he’s still going to age and get sick until he dies, no matter how much I try to take care of him really well. It’s like trying to rescue Troy from an oncoming train but all you can do is slow the train down, until it finally runs him over. This is exactly what it’s like. I do think my dog is ageing a lot slower because he’s so healthy and I’ve never allowed him to put on a lot of weight. My grandparents tried to break all the rules regarding his diet, but let’s not get started with the family dramas again. They want me to dump Troy onto someone else so I don’t have to care for him, but that’s not happening and they know it. They want a lot of things. No, I’m living my life however the hell I want to. Anyone who can get rid of a dog for the sake of convenience is plane fucking selfish. The situation could have been different for a million reasons. But it’s not and I’m able to keep Troy. So……… since this is the case, I feel that if I could work with Troy while he was learning the ropes when he first became a guide dog, I’m sure I can be there when he dies. He helped me for most of his life, so I’m now prepared to help him and support him through the rest of his life. It’s only fair.


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