How I Binge

One of the many buzzwords you hear today is “binge watching,” which is basically watching loads of one programme in one fell swoop. Frankly, I’ve called this marathon watching, but I’m a product of the 80s, when marathons were special events on networks.

A lot of these binges are tied into the success of Netflix’s entrance into the production market, where instead of weekly releases of a programme, they dropped all episodes at once to much success. I’ll be honest with you, I have little interest in what Netflix is offering (and all they really offer the Australian market is esterophilia). 

Recently I read an article in The Hollywood Reporter where Jenji Kohan, creator of one of the Netflix successes, Orange Is The New Black, said that binging is hurting the shared experience that used to happen when things were released weekly. Indeed, it’s quite funny to read the entertainment news websites’ attempts to cover shows whose episodes are released all at once, because the journalists have no idea how to write for an audience who could be at any place in the series. 

Even though none of the new binge shows appeal to me, I do enjoy binging. My current delight is the early 2000s Australian* crime show Stingers. I’m under no illusion that I’m probably one of the very few people watching episode after episode, and that’s fine with me. Binging for me is about personal enjoyment, and I don’t expect anyone else to be on the same page as me. Perhaps befitting my background as a scriptwriter, I’d rather discuss things with the scriptwriters, network executives, and producers.

* I tend to watch a lot of Australian & New Zealand programming simply because it’s new to me. Bizarrely, you barely see any old (as in not currently in production) Australian television programming on Australian television. But that’s another subject entirely

Pirates & Pillaging

 

 Netflix has arrived in the Antipodes with one of it’s aims being to end the high amount of piracy down here.

Truth be told, part of the piracy problem stems from the often ridiculously inflated prices that we pay down here for digital products. How can a company justify higher prices for the Australian/New Zealand markets when the product is a download? Quite rightly, the Australian government is holding hearings into why this situation exists, and the answer that seems to be constantly popping up is “greed.” 

Fair point to charge more money for a premium product–it’s the entertainment business, after all–but it’s a bit ridiculous to charge different prices in different countries when the product is intangible.

What has really got my goat about Netflix’s roll out has been how it arrogantly shafted the local entertainment industry with no announcement of Australian nor New Zealand production (FYI: they’re doing the same thing in Canada). In my view, that’s just as unacceptable as piracy. You don’t just come into a market and take without giving back or providing opportunities. 

The Australian government has announced plans for a tax on “streaming services” like Netflix, and frankly I hope they tax them hard, and that the money goes towards funding local content. 

As for Netflix, I doubt they ever would’ve had me as a return customer (disclaimer: I used to have a Netflix account back when they actually sent DVDs. It was a great place to discover LGBT films), but I hope they have a change of heart, because at some point all the buzz will fade and you’re left with diminished profits.   

  

  

Talking about religion 

Discussing religion has always been a bit tricky for me, mostly because an old American saying that has stuck with me: “The quickest way to clear out a room is talk race or religion.” 

  

My parents were from two separate branches of Christianity, my father was a Catholic and my mother was Baptist. (I should add that they both frowned upon Pentacostal theatrics.) This created somewhat of a conundrum for them when it came to what branch I’d be raised in. What they came up with was what I’d call “Commercialist Protestantism” although that wasn’t what they called it.

“Commercialist Protestantism,” is basically “Christmas = Santa Claus and presents” and “Easter = candy and the Easter Bunny,” with a belief in The Golden Rule and that you can always talk to God. 

To their credit, they wanted me to establish my own spiritual relationship with the world, although my mother often worried that I was never baptised (oddly enough, Baptist liturgy says that children shouldn’t be baptised as it is a choice one should make on one’s own without pressure). 

I mention my religious background because one of things I have encountered a lot as a gay man are other gay men for whom religion was wielded as a weapon of fear and intimidation. It’s something I really cannot comprehend:  how can any faith sustain itself when it scares others into such trauma? 

Personally, I have no ill will towards any religion, and I believe that there are not necessarily bad belief systems, but rather people who seek to use faith to serve their own biases and selfish ends.

And in case you are wondering if I still subscribe to Commercialist Protestantism? Well, I do…with a bit of a twist:

  

Remembering Appomattox

Here in Australia and also in New Zealand, there have been a lot of memorials commemorating the 100th anniversary of Gallipoli where many Australian & New Zealand soldiers died and where Australian and New Zealand identity within the commonwealth was strengthened.

In the US, April 9th commemorates an important anniversary (although the date is not so widely remembered), the surrender of the Confederate troops at Appomattox Court House, Virginia.

The Last Salute

This year marks 150 years since that surrender and its lasting effect on national identity. No longer was the USA, a collection of states, but rather a unified country.

Despite all of our many regional differences, there are some core beliefs that Americans hold true which are that everyone is equal and has a right to pursue their dreams.

It is somewhat of a shame that April 9th is not as widely commemorated as other dates in US history, however you could easily say that is a reflection of the overall legacy of the Civil War itself. CNN posted this article 4 years ago (on the anniversary of the start of the Civil War) about “4 Ways We’re Still Fighting The Civil War,” and this article from Time asks the same question.

Yet, what I find rather fascinating is while there was a rush of articles to commemorate the anniversary of the start of the Civil War, there’s not so many about the end of it, and about the healing and successes since then, which undoubtedly there have been. (Frankly, myself and my whole family are a testament to that.)

Before 40

The age of 40 is a touchstone, albeit an awkward one. 30 is still seen as the dividing line between supposed youth and supposed adulthood. (A look over at Hikaruland might prove that debatable), and 50 means you’ve lived half a century. 40, I reckon means that you should’ve cast off those last vestiges of youth and become a full-fledged adult.

  

Now why is my 36 year old self pondering 40?

Well, much as how people talk about “Bucket Lists,” I’ve been coming up with a “40 List” of experiences I’d like to have before I hit middle adulthood.

  1. Spend a month in Uruguay or Chile learning Spanish. 
  2. Interview Ben Cousins and tell him in person that his story saved my life.
  3. Visit Mississippi, in particular the area where my father grew up and also visit Jackson (the state capital) to acknowledge my great great cousin Blanche Kelso Bruce (1st Black US Senator to serve an entire term).   (Jessie Mae Hemphill, a blues performer from the area of Mississippi my father’s family is from.)
  4. Find out more about the Irish & Choctaw sides of my family.
  5. See another openly gay NRL player play and succeed professionally.
  6. Visit Australia outside of the East Coast.
  7. See one of my plays performed.
  8. Visit Quai d’Orsay (the home of the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs).
  9. Get married. (The child aspect, is, as per family tradition, going to happen after 40.)
  10. Finally become an Australian citizen (though not until after #6)
  11. Become an advocate for a healthy body image amongst gay men.

So that’s 11 experiences within 4 years. Hopefully it’s doable.

Rebirth…and the fear of writing

I’ll be honest with you, it has been a long time between proverbial drinks.

There was a time wherein I would excuse my absences from blogging as “going out and having a life.” At 36, that excuse doesn’t quite hack it any more.

The real reason most likely is that I got afraid of writing. I started to think that there is really nothing I have to add to the global cacophony, so I retreated inward.

For my working life, that probably was the wisest decision I could’ve done at the time, but for my emotional health, that was the worst decision, because it cut me off from why I so strongly pursued being a writer for many years: a belief that my voice and perspective is valid and will always be valid.

Lest you think I’m sounding cocky, the fact that I believe that my voice is valid does not mean that others aren’t, quite the opposite, it is only through dialogue and interaction that we grow as writers, as artists, and as people.

Confidence, I believe, is something that a lot of writers either have in abundance or scarcely at all. There has to be something driving that urge to write and to publicly share that writing, and writing is itself a builder of and destroyer of confidence.

For me, every time I see a blank screen, I am struck with a high degree of both terror and anticipation. Believe you me, I wish I could separate these two, but alas, they always come in a pair, like sweet-and-sour yin yang,

The terror is somewhat technical: all that empty space that I’m supposed to fill up with my thoughts while a word counter ever so languidly ticks over yet another word. (Aren’t word counters the worst? It’s like a return to those halcyon days of 1000 word essay writing assignments.)

The anticipation is a bit harder to describe: I know something is going to come out, but I don’t know exactly what it will be and what it will reveal about myself.

I do know one thing, though, that the longer I hold it in my internal world, the more crowded my head becomes.

And that is the main reason for why I’m reawakening this corner of the internet. My thoughts have become too crowded inside my head, and that’s not what I want my internal world to be like.

Rainbow

Rainbow

Woolworths Carols in the Domain 2014

This has been quite the challenging week here in Australia.

I tend to be of the belief that everyone deals with these events in their own way and that it is best to get on with life albeit with sensitivity to others.

So in that vein, striking the right tone for this review will be somewhat tricky. Yet, understand that underneath the jibes and puns is a strong degree of affection for the event and the people that put it on.

Before we actually begin, we need the show to actually start at the scheduled time.

Yes, it’s the time honoured Australian television tradition of starting programmes late in order to win the time slot.

(Australian networks are NOT fined for starting shows late.)

The show starts with a very solemn (and understandable) note about this week’s events and Mark Vincent singing “You Raise Me Up.”

This year, the hosts are the entire (Weekday) Sunrise team: [David] Koch (aka “Kochie”), Samantha Armytage, Natalie Barr, and Mark Beretta.

Mark Vincent resets the tone by bringing out a group of opera singers who sing “O Come All Ye Faithful.”

Much rather this than Lorne Michaels asking Giuliani “if we can laugh again?”

It does end in a flurry of glory notes, but at least everyone onstage can hit them.

Adverts: This is being marketed as “Woolworths-Disney Carols in the Domain,” and Big Hero 6 is the new Disney film getting released soon, so I fully expect the ratio to be 50% Disney ads during the break, but surprisingly there’s only one…Woolworths “cheap cheap” ads never fail to make me snicker (“Wow, that’s cheap!”)

And our guests include: A whole bunch of X-Factor people, The Wiggles, and Georgie Parker & Jay Laga’aia. (I’m truly looking forward to that reunion.)

Kochie welcomes the Premier & Police, and it’s rather interesting to note that as part of a Quartet, the HBIC powers of Natalie Barr are diminished.

Nat does get to announce Dami Im (X Factor 2013 winner) singing “O Holy Night.” Dami does an extremely good (and glory note free) version of the song.

Strike that, she did melisma the last part.

Now, it’s Taylor Henderson (who is also responsible the new Sunrise theme song, and a X Factor alumni) singing “The First Noel.” As pious as Taylor is, I question his choice to sound rather nasal when singing about Jesus and looking solemn.

Mark & Nat give a really quick intro to Christine Anu (the first non-reality show soloist) singing “Little Drummer Boy.” As good as Christine Anu is (and she is VERY GOOD), there will always be only one version of this song for me and that’s Vanessa Williams’s Jazz version.

Mark tells us “The kids take over with Jay Laga’aia…”

I didn’t hear Georgie Parker’s name afterwards, which makes me doubt the chances of a reunion of their awkward 2012 duet.

Adverts: So Fresh “Songs for Christmas” surely must be an ironic title as those are some very dated covers…And Disney and Qantas must be using the same advertising agencies.

And we’re back in the Quartet, and now we’re really back because it is all bad puns about Kochie being responsible for Santa Claus.

They intro Jay Laga’aia (sans Georgie Parker). He sings “Frosty the Snowman” and at least his mic is on.

It’s been awhile that I’ve heard the song, but I don’t remember a line about a “traffic cop.”

Mark & Nat come back with the first of several Disney plugs, this time for the live-action Cinderella. Nat does a very obvious segue by saying “Here is are own Cinderella story, [X-Factor 2014 winner] Marlisa.”

Marlisa sings a melisma filled version of “A Dream Is a wish your heart makes,” she is accompanied by a bunch of scenes from Cinderella, of course.

I voted for Dean Ray, and let’s leave it at that.

And we’re back to the quartet, who for people who appear on television 5 days a week, look oddly stunned.

Sam intros Nathaniel [X-Factor] singing “Santa Claus is coming to town.”

There will be no rap break, fortunately.

Nathaniel has opted for a version that veers occasionally close to “I Want You Back” by the Jackson Five.

That said, you can only inject so much soul into “Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Kochie teases me with another promise of a Laga’aia-Parker duet.

Adverts: I am very happy they finally turned the bloody volume down on that Freeview ad. The whole world has had it in their hands and ears…On Sunrise, no matter what you do, we will make your Christmas feel inadequate.

Mark & Nat finally deliver the goods: The Laga’aia-Parker duet.

And it is as awkward in 2014 as it was in 2012, with the dancing children as a wall between Georgie-land and Jay-Land. At least Jay’s microphone is turned on.

Poor Rudolph, the co-dependent Reindeer.

More woeful jokes about Kochie’s incompetence as Santa introduces The Wiggles.

Santa Claus with a strong Australian accent is something to behold.

Unlike his former colleagues, Anthony ain’t retiring anytime soon.

They sing a song about Emma’s Christmas Bow.

I tune out of sincerity. Though the word “Bow” rings in my ears for several minutes after.

The camera does a closeup of a baby as The Wiggles sing “Silent Night.” The baby looks rather annoyed.

And then it’s the inevitable “Go Santa Go.”

The interesting about Wiggles performances is that the parents tend to be more into it than the children.

That said, The Wiggles do their annual duty and bring in Santa Claus, who is being driven in via golf cart.

When Santa does get onstage, the orchestra greets him with a couple instrumental lines from Jesus Christ Superstar, or it certainly sounds like it.

All and sundry onstage perform a considerably restrained version of “Jingle Bells” considering they are being assaulted by silly string.

Adverts: “This is Aus-TRAL-IA!” Seven is running a serious risk of pissing a portion of the public off with the constant promotion of “Australia: The Story of Us.”…A Crystal Furby?…If you don’t fly Qantas, you have no family…Dear Sweet Lord this Qantas ad is long…I probably could be back in 1990s Wisconsin by the time it ends.

Celebrity greeting: Jamie Oliver (Woolworths $pokesperson) tells us to donate to the Salvation Army.

Kochie tells Sam that he’s been eager to host Carols for some time, and proceeds to embarrass his grandchildren and contrive a link to Marlisa.

Marlisa sings “Away in a manger.” She sounds not as polished as previously.

Nat & Mark intro Taylor Henderson and Samantha Jade singing “Happy Christmas.”

Henderson looks startled, whereas Jade looks like she is about to bust out a “Praise Him” at any moment.

Kochie & Sam show us some of the actual programs the Salvos do (which is a pleasant change from just saying “DONATE”) and then introduce Judith Dunham.

Dunham is the grande dame of this year, and first performs a song in round
with The Australian Girls Choir. Then things get seriously ratcheted up to eleven in a very loud version of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” that threatens to drown poor Judith out. When they get to the final chorus it gets so brassy, I have expect a chorus line to come out kicking.

Mark promises Adam Garcia next. (Doing what?)

Adverts: My Kitchen Rules: Real People, Real Food? So they were cyborgs all the previous seasons?…When will these Hobbit films ever end?…Australia Post, Please Privatise Us (despite it being foolish to do so)…

And we return with a smiling Nat & Mark introducing Adam Garcia singing (and fortunately dancing to) “It’s beginning to look like Christmas.” Some cruel audio person turned the volume up on Adam’s mic so we hear every last breath.

The audio evens out during his rather impressive tap break with The Tap Pack.

Partial advertising break: Woolworths hardware store refurbishes a house for a youth centre in Blacktown. Though the faux reality show narration does grate.

Sam & Kochie intro Lee Kernaghan & his very gorgeous wife singing a version of “Jingle Bell Rock” with a lot more sex appeal than you’d expect.

Mark mentions Nat’s previous hosting of Carols, and we get a glimpse of the old HBIC Nat. They introduce The McClymonts doing the inevitable-but-meteorologically-impossible in the Australian Summer medley of snow songs which will include “Let It Go,” (as in the Disney film…It’s Showtime, Synergy.)

The camera tries to catch as many children singing along, though it unfortunately captures a boy sleeping.

Mark promises Dami Im and “more.” I notice one thing that is absent this year, and that is the overseas celebrity gue$t.

Adverts: Seven News is omnipresent, in fact, Chris Bath is already filing a report about what you had for dinner…Buy jewellery to make up for being a crap partner…That poor Dick Smith voiceover artist must be still aching after having to speak so fast.

Kochie & Sam again, and they FINALLY tell us how to make a donation via SMS. (It’s been onscreen several times.)

Dami Im sings “The Christmas Song” at a piano. She’s coming across as the real star this year, as her performance is seemingly effortless.

Kochie returns us to the most plug-filled renovation show ever. But it is for a good cause.

Kochie embarrasses Nat (who apparently likes Wicked), with the cast of Wicked singing some of the songs from the show.

I’ve seen Wicked, but I’m rather indifferent to it, or rather the PLEASE-LOOK-AT-ME style of musical theatre.

The cast sings “Joy to the World” with a lot more restraint, fortunately.

Interesting lyric: “He makes the nations prove his righteousness.”

Kochie threatens/promises us with Doug “Hiro Tsunoda” Parkinson and Jubilation.

Adverts: Buy an Apple product and bridge the generation gap…Shut up Meerkat…super synergy is achieved with a Woolworths ad for Frozen…

Another thing this year is missing: Matt “Gnat” White, who has gone over to Ten.

Nat wishes everyone who is watching this on the ashes of the Australia Network, “Australia Plus.”

Paulini (Australian Idol) comes on to sing “Jesus, The Wonderful Child” with Jubilation.

She is gospel-ing it up in a rather risqué evening gown, which makes it rather interesting visual.

Alas, no one onstage gets the spirit.

She then is joined by Doug “the white Australian possessed by an old black gospel singer” Parkinson in a version of “Go Tell It On the Mountain.”

And again, no one gets the spirit.

They try again when Doug starts singing “This Little of Mine,” which I don’t even think of as a religious song, though clearly I’ve never made it past the chorus.

No one gets the spirit and does the spinning chook dance.

Adverts: Australia was made by bullets (“THIS IS AUS-TRA-LIA”)…They really want people to buy that Human Nature album…The Water Diviner has got some howl-worthy lines…Heterosexuals are easily blinded by jewellery…Optus needs to say no to Josh Thomas…Ford apparently keeps Australia “real.” Woolworths is cheap, but the CGI in those ads isn’t, and they’ve got to recoup their costs somewhere

Kochie & Sam introduce Samantha Jade singing a song whose title I wasn’t able to get. Jade looks much more appropriate this year than in previous years, where her outfits were more Mary Magdalene than Virgin Mary.

Though she does a good job, alas this year belongs Dami Im.

And as in years past, Mark Vincent sings “The Holy City,” a song I’ve never heard of until moving to this country.

This has been a very interesting, and dare I say, innocent edition of Carols. It seems stripped back.

While on some level, I miss the madcap craziness, it’s an understandable decision.

Kochie tells us an All-star singalong is next.

Adverts: Give a gift from Officeworks, the gift that says “5 January isn’t that far away”…Mortein, I’ve been slapping all day long, I’d like my money back…Michael Hill, where clueless men are separated from their money…The new Annie is the remake no one asked for.

Christine Anu sings “Silent Night” with the Australian Girls Choir.

The camera cuts to another child asleep…and another…and another.

I should mention it’s now after 11 at night.

Sam finally mention the fireworks, because this show truly needs to end.

As is always the tradition, it’s “Song of Joy,” performed by the classical singers who opened the show along with all the other singers: Jay Laga’aia & Georgie Parker cling to each other, as do Nathaniel and Taylor Henderson.

A few fireworks half-heartedly spit up in the air.

Kochie still promises us more, and there’s a bit of tiredness/desperation in his voice.

Adverts: Is Kylie Minogue singing 80s covers a bit redundant?…Foxtel is also “cheap, cheap”

Kochie says that it has been a sensational night, though it’s also been a rather flat one.

One by one, they rattle off the sponsors, and close with what seems to be the new “seasons greetings” “Look out for each other.”

And after several false starts everyone sings “Reach Out And Touch Someone’s Hand,” then “We Need A Little Christmas,” and then “Rocking Around The Christmas Tree.” Kochie is completely wooden, the rest of his colleagues are surprisingly not.

Because this thing will not end, they then sing “Go Santa Go,” “Jingle Bells,” “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”

Why on Earth is this “family” show ending at almost 11:30 at night?

Finally credits amongst a more potent firework display.

Father-Son Lessons from beyond

My relationship with my father was “civil,” which frankly was quite a minor miracle, because it could’ve been much worse as he was operating with the psychological handicap of being a vet of the Korean and Vietnam wars. The best way to describe it is that there was a certain melancholy around him that happened before I was born, and there was likely nothing I could’ve done to really make it disappear.

I mention the distant relationship I had with my father because this feature from NPR explained so much of my father’s seemingly odd behaviour when I was growing up.

When my parents moved to Mequon (a predominantly white suburb of Milwaukee), my father took it upon himself to introduce himself to the local police, thinking that if they knew him as a person and not just “some black guy” he wouldn’t be treated for being “black in the wrong place” (and honestly in the late 1970s you couldn’t fault his logic).

His strategy did work, as the one time he was racially profiled by a [nervous and subconsciously bigoted local], he had the police very much on his side, and the accuser rightfully had a lot of proverbial egg on their face.

All that said, growing up, I noticed that my father went out to of his way to avoid being alone in public without either myself, my mother, or preferably both of us. Much like the man in the NPR piece, I think it was because of that “thug” perception. He saw himself as a family man, but was aware (presumably from a traumatic experience) that the perception others would have of him would be considerably different. So my mother & I were his armour. Racism terrified a man who was a Vietnam POV.

And not once did he mention this directly, but he taught me to always carry myself in a somewhat deferential (but still proud) manner as a black man.

And even to this day when I’m in public, I feel a degree of anxiety about someone saying something based solely on my appearance, an appearance that I can’t do anything about. Whether it’s from being black, being gay, being American, I can never relax fully as the only black man in the room.

This seems to be unique to black men, as my mother never displayed or expressed any hesitation about being on her own in public in Mequon. Having grown up in Mequon, I was at ease there (it was my home, after all), but in places that are like it, I find myself getting the nervousness and hesitation that I think my father must’ve had.

Still, I manage to challenge my comfort zone–(If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have ever left Mequon!)–if only because I believe that one day I will feel relaxed as the only one whatever in the room.

My father passed away in 2002, so I have no idea what he would’ve made of the Michael Brown shooting. I can say that from the scant bits of news we get on it here in Australia, that a bit of a chill goes down my spine. I know that no matter what I have done and achieved, I can never override someone’s prejudices that they have in a split second. And that could very well be that second which determines if I live or die.

Below: The view out the window on Christmas morning at the house I grew up in Mequon.christmasmorning2008.jpg

When I Think of Home Now

As I write this I’m watching the final of the Rugby League Four Nations. For those unfamiliar with Rugby League this is a biennial tournament between Australia, England, New Zealand, and one other (un)lucky country.

This year the final is between Australia and New Zealand. Prior to last year, anytime Australia or New Zealand play, I have always stayed politely neutral, as I’m an Australian permanent resident and also a Kiwiphile.

After living in New Zealand for a year, however, I’ve changed.

I’m a Kiwi.

Well, I’m an American-New Zealander who lives in Australia.

Having lived outside of the U.S. for almost 6 years, I’ve seen my sense of what nationality I am become a lot more complicated that I ever thought it could be.

The best way I could describe it is with something I call the “warm, fuzzy feeling factor.” When you think of a place that gives you that feeling where is it? (Note, for Dutch speakers think “gezellig” or for Welsh speakers “hiraeth.”)

For me, I think of several places instantly :

A snowy morning in Wisconsin, an autumn afternoon in New York, an evening in Wellington or Rotorua, and a foggy morning in Auckland.

These places and the time I spent in them remind me of times I’ve felt grounded and certain.

That’s home in my book, and yes, it’s odd that with as many years as I’ve lived here in Australia, it hasn’t yet felt like home.

It’s a bit hard to feel grounded when to this day whenever I meet someone and they know that I’ve lived here for a long time I still get asked what I think of Australia. Maybe it’s me, but I think 5 years is a sign that I think it’s pretty nice place.

The next question tends to be do I think I might go back to the U.S. Which is a rather odd question for me personally, since though I’m from the U.S. (and as I’ve also pointed out here before, the U.S. is itself more like 50 separate countries), the country has moved on since I left and so have I. So who’s to say that we’ll be able to get in sync again like we were when I was younger?

Home is where the heart is, as the old saying goes. In my opinion, the heart thrives where it feels supported and part of a greater “family.” (Probably I should say “whanau.”)

This isn’t to say that Australia won’t ever invoke those feelings, it’s just that Australia is not going to make it easy.

And the strange thing, the fact that it won’t, probably makes me love it more.

By the way, as I type this New Zealand is beating Australia 14 to 12.

Āe.

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Reflections in hospital green

During my last full day in hospital, the news of Harriet Wran’s arrest for murder was one of the lead stories. 

The image of Wran (the daughter of a recently deceased former premier of New South Wales) being walked by police in a jumpsuit became briefly–at least in Sydney–iconic

One of the other patients commented “she looks like us.” 

Given that I had spent 3 days clad in nothing but hospital greens, I did feel a bit like a prisoner.

The jailer, in my case, being ideation. 

When I started writing about this, it was partly to reach out for hope from a place of despair.

I feel more hopeful now, even though I can honestly say that being hospitalised for ideation is one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced.

There is a lot to criticise about the public health system’s approach to suicide, but I do have to say that the nursing staff do their best with a flawed system.

I am personally grateful to the staff who did eventually find time to talk to me and understanding that one size doesn’t fit all. They gave me the first glimpses and steps towards hope that I hadn’t experienced in some time.

Still, I believe that something needs to change if we, as  a country, are to really tackle suicidial ideation.

It’s not just a call to Lifeline, but it’s being willing to be open and honest with our struggles.