Living as an Australian

I'm Hélène, the first born but really this doesn't matter anymore.  

I live in a beautiful spot on the East coast of Autralia. Which means that our days are punctuated with news of the surf and the weather, what happened last weekend and what's planned next time. It involves a lot of meeting around the fire summer or winter with friends.  I basically had to learn to relax when I moved here 28 years ago and truth be told,  I didn't know how to relax the way Australians do. The first times I'd walk into a shop with my new Australian husband, I'd be welcomed with "Hello, how are you today?" and I would turn to my husband asking him if he already knew this shopkeeper?  No, that's the way people greet you here he said... That's when I started understanding this thing of easy familiarity, calling everyone by their first name didn't mean we were close. That's the way people spoke to each other. I had just come out of a very formal environment in Paris where Madame, Mademoiselle, Monsieur, and the formal "vous" had to be used until we would explicitly allow each other to bring the guard downs. 

"No worries Mate" is a real thing here. Why worry about what you cannot predict, stop, avoid... take it in your stride and "You'll be Right Mate".  I have watched with great admiration their resilience, their quick wit, their ability to crack jokes at the worst of times yet, with a great sense of humility. As a newbie, I had  lot of first extremes shake me. When I came home with my first baby and finally settled her in her cot, it coincided with my first encounter with a huge huntsman over the cot! I had to courageously move the baby out, with the fear of having to resettle her again. The huntsman moved on to another dimension that day. This was followed by ashes of a bush fire landing on my car, a cyclone or two forcing me to think quickly on what's safe to do in the next few days, a flood or two, more bush fires, sandstorms, more bugs, snakes crossing the lawn... and a relentless sun that burnt the skin so harshly if you didn't have the zinc sun block on.

When my daughter started school, there were a lot of firsts, including the uniform at school and the days when uniforms were replaced on "mufti-days". Google didn't exist, so I had to call a friend to ask what mufti day meant (no uniform day and usually a fundraising day).  Then, it was the packing of a lunchbox everyday. I was raised in a French system where a three-course canteen menu was shared with parents a month early. What do you put in a lunch box?  Is my daughter going to have a sandwich everyday?  Here in Sydney, school ended at 3pm. I had to have dinner ready by 5:30pm and by 6:30pm we'd wind down to go to sleep. By the time I had my second daughter, two years later, I was a little bit more "experienced" only to find out that two children was a huge jump.  Like all those mothers elsewhere, I survived the sleepless nights. 

I have to admit that in the mid 90s, I felt I had stepped back in time when I arrived in Sydney. It felt like a movie in the 60s, when I was a kid.  With the Olympic Games, Australia made a huge leap into the 2000s! But I was frustrated by the overall patriarchal view of looking at child rearing where mothers were forced to stay home due to the exorbitant cost of day care. This was such a hard stereotype that I felt ashamed of wanting to work or study too.

Local libraries are a great place for pleasure and learning

I fell into a deep depression when my second daughter was 9 months old.  I later found out there was a name for this: postnatal depression.  The poor thing had colic and it lasted for months, day and night. I was desperate to sleep and I had a 2 year old in tow full of life ready to discover what the world was like.  The excitement and joy of being a mother was all dark to me. My family was miles away. I would talk to them once a week and it was very expensive. My husband worked night shift and slept all day. I had to make sure the kids didn't wake him up during the day. We thankfully had a library across from our house where we spent a lot of wonderful time. Every other mother I saw seemed to make it happen seamlessly. No one spoke about this deep hole I felt in my heart.  The few mothers I saw around me didn't seem to struggle as much as I did. I felt sad all the time, hopeless and not coping with the most simple tasks.  My ability to cope with and enjoy daily life was gone. One morning, a thousand crazy ideas came through my head. Amongst them, I contemplated ending my life and felt guilty leaving the children behind. So, I thought I'd have to take them with me in this crazy plan I was putting together. I was so sleep deprived my mind was going crazy. That's when I realized I was in deep trouble and I couldn't stop the tears. I remember picking up the kids in my arms and walked up the street to the Doctor's surgery. A heaven of peace. I sat down and the older lady at the desk immediately understood. I am forever grateful. She knew me from previous visits with the kids. She came to settle them with toys on the floor and kept them busy while I talked to the doctor. I couldn't stop crying because I felt I could not continue. I had failed at this mothering thing. It was awful. This doctor was amazing.  She asked some basic questions and decided to call my husband to get me. She wanted to talk to him too.  He came very quickly and was shocked to realize he had no idea how deeply depressed I felt. He was so busy coming in and out of home to work, to help as much as he could when he was home, playing with the kids, and trying to be the bread winner.

The good news is that thanks to the doctor, a psychologist and medication, and a lot of patience from myself, I starting to feel better. I also started a course in oil painting once a week for 3-hours. The girls could attend together a child care where I was allowed to leave them for 4 hours a week. They enjoyed their time there, it was close to home and the carers were great. 

Playing with paint colours is a great way to calm the mind

Adult still-life painting classes in community schools

This oil painting class was my therapy and I have found that making art since, in all it's forms, is the best way to calm my busy worried mind. 

Since, I practice everyday the "No Worries Mate" philosophy which I need to develop in order to make of a life a lighter thing.

If you know of anyone with postnatal depression, don't hesitate to visit them and find help for them:

https://panda.org.au/

https://www.pregnancybirthbaby.org.au/postnatal-depression

https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/healthyliving/postnatal-depression-pnd