As the firmament above lightened with the advancing of the sun I watched the car back out of the garage, do a lap of the fountain and finally pull out of the driveway. Tendrils of dust kicked up by the slow crunch of the tyres on the gravel hung in the air, creating a pink veil against the dewy grass. The dog followed them out to the road at a slow trot, his ears pricked up to their highest height, his eyes intently following the receding red coals. He cocked his head on an angle as if searching for a reason for the car to be leaving at this time of day in that particular direction. He waited, frozen, for a couple of minutes until he was satisfied that they weren’t coming back, and then turned back to the house to sniff around the frosted garden.
He snarfled his way beneath the fig tree’s umbrella shade of new leaves unfurled where it was still warm, disturbing a pair of guinea fowl that scrambled off screaming into the stockyards. He ignored them and nibbled a piece of rotting fruit before relieving himself on the trunk. The tortured voices of the cockerels in their pen croaked through the mist as they strutted about failing to attract the attention of the chooks in the neighbouring pen. Skip dismissed them with a twitch of his nose, imagining gnawing on their bones after their necks were wrung and the meat picked clean in the kitchen.
He made his way across to the sheds to peer into their recesses lit bright by the early sun. Bouncing through the long grass alongside the ringlock fence he saw the last of the new lambs lying slick and wet amongst the stubble and shit. If you listened close enough you could hear the crops in their perfect rows stretching against their roots. A bull hidden by the steam rising from the dam in his paddock bellowed three times-long and mournful. A few distant cows echoes his cries. It wouldn’t be long now until they would see each other again.
Hazel, [Sat 19]
Well, I didn’t get much reading done at all. I only got through one abstract and a few of the figures. The internet was too much of a distraction. I just stared and stared into that fluorescent glow. No one was particularly up for heading to the pub. We’ve all run through most of our money, and we don’t get paid until next week. I didn’t feel as though I could call on your friends what they were up to. For some reason I feel weird about asking them to entertain me while you’re away. So I had a quiet night on the couch with a 6-pack, pizza and TV. It turned into one of those nights where you stay up until Rage starts without paying any attention to what you were actually watching (footy then some foreign film on SBS *nudge nudge*), and then keep on telling yourself that you’ll watch one more clip, then go to bed, but then the next clip is good, so you extend the deadline until you look up at the clock and it’s 3am and you’re alone, without pants, and there are sauce stains on the carpet.
I’m feeling grumpy. The conversation I had with Piers and Yoshi the other day has really gotten to me. What am I doing here? Is this really what I want to be doing? Do I have what it takes to be a career research scientist? And you know what? I don’t think I do. I’m not pig-headed or strong willed enough. I’m not a leader, and I don’t want to spend all those years at the bench only to have to walk away from it and focus on grants and admin and management stuff. It’s such a bullshit system. It keeps circulating in my head, together with the ever-present imposter syndrome, spiralling ever downwards. I feel like I’m spinning around and around on a tightly wound swing- it’s the same stuff going around and around, but it gets blurred and distorted the longer it spins until I’m left dizzy and nauseous.
That, and I’m missing you.
I’m feeling pretty low. It’s been coming, slowly, and I’ve been ignoring it quite adequately, but now it is here. And I feel like shit. But instead of going out and doing something about it, I just sit here looking at dots of light and shade covering a box of metal. It’s as if someone has booted me into sleep mode.
Baaargh! I have to snap out of thins or it’ll settle on me forever.
Xx
Marshall
Marshall, [Sat 19]
Sorry to hear that you’re not doing so well. Of course, you know I am here for you whenever you need to call. Don’t stop just because you think you may inconvenience me. I assure you that you won’t. I only want the best for you and will do whatever it takes to help you get it. Do you know what’s triggered you feeling this way? I noticed before I left that you’d started to flatten and withdraw into yourself. I didn’t mention it because I figured that if I ignored it it may not actually happen, but I guess in hindsight that was a pretty shit thing to do. Sorry. I feel like a selfish arsehole.
Now, don’t take offence, but maybe you should go talk to someone qualified to deal with this. I fear that if you don’t do something this will keep cycling and you’ll never achieve the freedom and confidence you rightly deserve. I don’t want to nag, but I will if pressed.
I’m tempted to leave this message like that, but I figure that if I keep writing you’ll keep reading and it’ll distract you from it, at least for a short period of time. Dad failed in his attempts to sweet-talk his way out of hospital yesterday, but Mum went and got him this morning. I can hear him out in his shed.
I went out last night with Katie. It started with just the two of us at a bar in the cool part of town, before we were joined by a select couple of people from school (Toby and Alex). We went for dinner, then to another bar, then a pub, then once we were sufficiently lubricated, to a dodgy nightclub where we took over the podiums from groups of skanky girls and pimply boys. It was horrible yet wonderful all at the same time. I got a taxi home, and to be perfectly honest I’ve only just woken up, and I’m still in bed. Bad I know, but I just needed to let off some steam from the past couple of weeks.
This afternoon I’ll look into buying a ticket home. I’d like to stay a few more days, until Dad is embedded back into the daily routine. I think Mum could do with an extra set of eyes making sure he doesn’t get up to too much mischief, too (Too many to(o)’s).
Anne, Sid and Elise have just pulled in to the driveway, so I’d better get up before Elise rushes in here and jumps all over me. If you don’t call me, I’ll call you later in the day.
Love you. Stay safe.
Hazel XXX
Hazel [Sat 19],
Thanks for your words of support. Your love means more to me than anything else right now. You shouldn’t feel that you have to carry any of the burden for me being cranky/glum/depressed. You didn’t do anything to cause it, and nothing you could have done would have prevented it. It’s my own fucked up chemistry that is to blame. And that is all it comes down to in the end. Chemicals- too much or too little and in wrong concentrations and balance- in the brain. It’s kinda staggering just how powerful our own biology can be. Is it wrong that I find it inspiring? Maybe that is what’s led me towards a career in science?
It’s funny that you say you’d noticed me withdrawing into myself before you left, coz I honestly hadn’t even noticed. I thought everything was fine. I was happy. Probably happier than I’d ever been in my life. It just goes to show that sometimes those that love you know more about you than you ever realise.
I don’t want to wallow in self-pity like some over-emotional teen. There will be no bad poetry or angst-ridden songs. The Smith’s have been struck from my playlist. I’ll play the ignorance game and maybe this shit will sort itself out. I’m still thinking about going to see someone. I know that it is rational to swallow my pride and ask for help. And you know how I regard rationality. But I keep getting that nagging behind my ears that if I can get through it on my own I’ll be so much better off for it. Dumb, yes. But that’s the way I’m leaning.
So yes, that’s me. I’m gonna go to the shops and get some stuff for dinner, and then I’ll get an early night; see whether lack of sleep has anything to do with it.
Love you.
Marshall XXX
Marshall, [Sun 20]
How are you feeling today? Did the sleep help?
Not too much is happening here. I’m spending most of my time either preparing food or feeding said food to the neighbours and family friends that are continually dropping by to see how Dad is. To be honest I’m fed up with having to tell people what I’m doing over in Perth, and when I’m moving back to Chch. I’M NOT! I’ve resorted to talking from behind clenched teeth. Even if they don’t get the hint it makes me feel better. I’m taking a time-out right now.
You will be pleased to know that having failed to do so yesterday, I have finally booked a flight home. I arrive in Perth on Wednesday at 2:10pm. Do you think you could pick me up? I have something big and sloppy to give you (no, not that. A kiss you fool. Get your mind out of the gutter. Gosh.). I am really really looking forward to seeing you again. While it’s been great to be around my family, even under such trying circumstances, my patience with them is waring thin. I think I’ve reverted to behaving like a teenager around them. Yikes.
Righto. I’d better head back into the fray. I can hear them discussing me through the walls. I miss you so much.
XX Hazel XX
Hazel, [Sun 20]
I slept well thankyou- a full 12 hours. I think I’m going to go for a bike ride this morning; try to clear my head and get some oxygen deep into my lungs. It’ll probably do me a world of good.
I hope these friends and neighbours aren’t doing you any permanent damage. I cop it every Christmas. Everyone wants to know what I’m doing and why I don’t have a real job yet. They think there’s something a bit kooky about choosing to stay at uni and learn less than minimum wage when there are all sorts of well paying jobs I could be doing instead. That’s why we had those ‘DON’T ASK ME ABOUT MY FUCKING THESIS’ shirts made up- to honour the incessant questionings of our families.
OK. I’m ready to hit the road. I’ll give you a rescue call later in the day. Stay sane.
XXX Marshall
Hey Hazel, [Sun 20]
Like I said, I went for a bike ride this morning to clear my head and try to make sense of what has been churning around in my head lately. I took a pen and paper and a few other odds and ends with me, but it is the pen and paper that is most important in this story. For the first time in god-knows how long I sat down in a quiet spot away from any distractions and just thought, and I wrote down what I thought without fear of judgement or recrimination. I’ve typed out what I wrote (with spelling mistakes (hopefully) corrected. What follows is that screed. Normally this sort of thing would cause me to clam up and stress about the embarrassment it would cause me, but I’m prepared in this case to just let it all hang out there. I suppose it shows that I trust you absolutely. Anyway, above all else I hope you can make sense of it.
Good night. I love you, Marshall XXXXXX
Marshall [Mon 21],
That was beautiful. I think that writing conveyed exactly what you wanted it to convey. Why don’t we head down to the farm this coming weekend? I’d love to see where you grew up. It sounds amazing. That’s not just easy platitudes, either. I really mean that. I really was moved by what you wrote. I feel like I understand you even more now.
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