Ol’ Ratso’s Musings on Life

Work defines the man. I know this is not supposed to be the way things are, but actually it is the way things are. How many times do you find yourself being asked “So, what do you do?” This is usually pretty early on in the conversation when you first meet someone. It is an attempt by people to try and get some grasp of who you are. And because what you do tends to feone you as a person, the asker will have some notion whether or not you have any common ground. It’s perfectly valid social etiqutte.

Anyway, this leads me to my thoughts today. I work as a Software Developer, but somehow I don’t identify with it. I don’t think of myself as the person that that image conjures up. I still have a picture of someone who is driving across Africa, living a free and easy life, with the future wide open and endless possibilities. Instead when I look in the mirror I see a forty year old man, dressed in a shirt and tie, going to work in an office, five days a week. This guy’s weekends are mowing the lawn and family time. Occassionally he’ll do some guy stuff. I don’t recognise that person.

About ten years ago that person in the mirror got really unhappy with his life, but felt that it was impossible to change it. The reasons were the usual, family and financial resposibilities, and a general lack of understanding by others that this was not the life I wanted. Changing that life would mean changes for others, and anyway, what’s wrong with your life. “Get a hobby.” “Live for the weekend” “Work to live, not live to work.” Empty advice when you don’t want to be the person in the mirror.

The medical solution to this is to prescribe anti depressants, and it works. It takes the edge off so you can continue to function as valuable member of society, one that doesn’t rock the boat. But the underlying unhappiness and dissatisfaction is still there. I could see it in the eyes of the person in the mirror, but ignore it. Every now and then I would try to go off the medication, but the eyes in the mirror, that sad look, would drive me back to the comfort of sleep walking.

Sometime ago, because of an external driver, I finally managed to go off altogether. The withdrawls are unpleasant, physically and mentally. The physical ones are easiest though as you know they will pass. Tingling, lightheadedness, anxiety. The mental ones are the harder because that won’t pass without me doing something. But this time I’d rather feel the feelings as it were and react, than zombie through my life avoiding the eyes in the mirror.

Born in the Netherlands during the sixties, so I guess that makes me a baby boomer/generation X. We moved to Australia when I was six, my Mum and Dad and younger sister. We lived for a time in Perth where I went to Brentwood Primary School, and Rosmoyne High School. In 1973 we moved to Brisbane, where I attended Sunnybank High School and for a year MacGregor High School. 1979 I moved to Cairns, North Queensland,  and took up an Electrical Fitter and Turner apprenticeship with the Far North Queensland Electricity Board. I lived with my Uncle and Aunt in Gordonvale, on their eighty acre hillside farm. Those were pretty good days – I rode horses, shot pigs, bought my first big bike (a Suzuki GT750, and later a Suzuki GS850). Later on moved to town and met my first wife, fell in love, and got married. We had one child and then things got crazy and we split apart. I headed overseas to London, Germany, Egypt, and finally Israel where I worked on a farm. It was there that I got my head and heart back together again. Fell in love again, fell out of love again, met some nice ladies, travelled from Israeal to Morrocco with a good Canadian mate, and wound up in Lodon again. It was there that I met my second wife, although this wasn’t obvious at the time. We had a brief two week encounter and then went our seperate ways, she to New Zealand and me staying put in London. We kept in touch, and after my Mum died in Cairns I went back to London with a detour to Tauranga NZ to see Gill. Well, one thing led to another, and Gill came back to London with me. I had already started to formulate a plan to drive a landrover through Africa and have a bit of an adventure. Gill wasn’t too keen, but I said ‘Come along, it’ll be fun and you’ll see lots of elephants.’ Elephants are Gill’s weak spot. So she did, and we had a wonderful year long trip. Eventually ended up in Harare Zimbabwe, sold the landrover and headed back to London. A year later wound up in Tauranga again, bought a house, rescued a cat, found a dog, got married, produced two beautiful kids…but that’s another story.