Rock Bottom

Beginning of August, just two weeks after I came back from my holiday, my daughter decided to move out at her dad's place. 

Why?

This is the million dollars question. 

There are many and compounded answers - like the need for a change (fair enough), exploring autonomy (deep seated need at her age and in her condition), angst of reaching 30 soon that she talks about, escaping lasting poverty, une pulsion de survie (uncontrollable), and probably various people influencing that choice, including psychologists (?).  

As I said earlier, the truth is I don't know.

I had to detach & accept, for survival, and despite the high risk of an accident happening, even if things had begun to look better for her lately. 

A part of me was whispering : "Isn't it time we finally sit and enjoy the gains together for a while, life was so much better for her in 2025 than in 2020?" but I was dealing with a young adult without a minute of life to waste... perhaps...

 I consulted her neuropsychiatrist and occupational therapist to ascertain safety; they were not on my side: "she is 28, sound of mind and her life is not in danger". 

Really? How about the resuscitation sessions?

I felt totally alone, let down. 

Welcome to the world of specialists, none of them getting the full picture, and welcome to Invisible Disabilities World!

It is now end of October, and as far as I am aware - her contacts with me are now very rare - her move has been a success in the sense that no major incident has happened but I would not call it victory towards autonomy yet for sure. For one thing, her dad is not there with her, he lives and work in Townsville with his partner, oblivious. Normally, 2x support workers come and look after her 8am-4pm three times a week.

I had no other choice than keeping going on walking my life path without falling. 

The abyss had never been closer. 

The following week, I was hit with an emergency situation of my own. I was struck by pain in my stomach area lasting 5 hours. I called the ambulance at 3am on a Sunday, but they took 1h30. 

I was totally alone. 

What had I done with my life?

I was two weeks away from homelessness again. I had to find a full-time job immediately since the government help would stop in two weeks time, and from then on, I would not be able to pay my bills. I was now facing the prospect of having to sell my house and live who knows where while looking for a cheaper accommodation to buy (again) since I was not qualifying for a rent on my current PT job working for a multinational company caring more about their shareholders than their linguists. 

That is family and society's Thank You for caring for others.

NOT ONE PERSON SHOULD EVER HAVE TO DO IT ALONE!

My whole life had been built around holding a family; the whole edifice was taking a final blow.

How did I keep going? For one thing, embracing my new profession helped.

I was able to manage the identity shift. I re-construct my identity as a therapist. This gave me some solace, especially when I could see my clients progress. 

I also listened to my course coordinators general advice to turn to what is beautiful in the world to transcend life realities - how do you keep going when you have hard cases one after another. I turned to the arts for solace. Beauty in Arts, Music, Nature is like a connexion between us all. I visited a lot of uplifting free exhibitions, swam a lot, and learned to be happy on my own as I had been when I was 23. I also tried to connect with people deeply in what they had beautiful. I could do that through my work, I found beauty in my patients' resilience. Slowly, I was reaching some balance.

I was also enjoying the freedom I had been longing for such a long time, even though I would have preferred things to be more gradual, and responsibilities shared.

Very very fortunately, despite my advanced age and alopecia, 

I have been offered a six-months contract at the agency where I did my placement in Cleveland (40mn drive from my place). As a trauma specialist, it is very well remunerated, so I will be fine. I start paid work with them next week.

This week, I had gallbladder surgery. It all went well, and I was able to pay for it.

A friend came to collect me from the hospital, one brought me a meal and heat packs, and another one came for company two days later; my son moved in with me this week. 

I was not realy alone after all.

I am aware that things could have turned for the worse easily, and that yes, luck did play its part. I can only think about the many carers who did not make it through this ruthless individualistic world.

I reported my trip to Europe to January - 10 days - as part of my new contract negociations.

 

Europe Trip Cancelled and How I ended up in Vietnam

        First Holiday since 2018 and 1000 words on Duo Lingo later, 

my flight to Europe got cancelled!

The day I checked in, Iranian missiles targeted Doha overnight. It was not safe to flight in the middle of a raging the Israel-Iran conflict. 

Let's call it collateral damage.

Qatar Airlines phones were not responding in Australasia. I contacted Qatar US customer service to make a change of flight: it took me four hours to be able to reschedule for a later date. The Qatar Flight ticket was printed by Iberia airlines. Qatar airline demanded that Iberia (Spain) should send an email to Brisbane airport to cancel my Check-In to enable re-ticketing. Iberia said Qatar were the only ones who could change the ticket since it was their planes. Deadlock. Then, a Qatar airline woman said 'I am going to do something exceptional' and rebooked me in January. Two hours later, the flight was officially cancelled for everybody. It was peak holiday time, but the airline accepted to change flights when possible or reimburse. My insurance company (BUPA) said they would not reimburse war related cancellation. Luckily, ItaliaRail reimbursed me everything at 90%, and the hotel could be cancelled one week before arrival in Italy, so the financial loss was minimal.

My long time high school friend and I had planned to spend our birthdays together - we were born the same day - in Paris, at her place, and we would spend one week in Italy after that. We had meticulously prepared the trip with delightful anticipation for six months, including Vatican & Colosseum visits in Rome, an art exhibition in Florence, six months of learning Italian on Duo Lingo, seeing friends, going to see Les Liaisons Dangereuses at the theatre on arrival and a guided visit of the newly restored Notre Dame. I had not seen her since before Covid times. We were shocked for a while but realised we were not the ones suffering the most in this turn of event and we just postponed our meeting and much anticipated birthday celebration to January. 

I also had envisaged to see some family members but that proved a bit more complicated. I could sense chillness (frilosité). A woman in a predicament, troubles coming, she is going to ask us something or remind us we are just watching ...

So what to do? I still had the time off - time off from Uni, time off from Work, time off from Caring.

First time off since 2018, and no money to spare.

 This was pushing things a bit but I knew I could spend my emergency money since I could from now on finally access my superannuation in case of emergency this year, subject to strict conditions, without losing my social medical protection and still be able to work - I have not enough yet to retire. A game changer. Safety at last. 

I had already started the process to access my super but it would take a couple of weeks to materialise, so I did not have the money quite just yet. Almost there.

I did not want to waste this precious time. One of my friends in Brisbane offered to help me in the meanwhile. The money came two weeks later.

It is sad to be talking about money so much but financial stress is very much part of the deal for people who see their working capacity impaired as a result of caring for others on their own, and it should be talked about.

First, I considered a yoga-health rehab retreat in Byron Bay or Sunshine Coast. I was very much in need of relaxing. Then, I browsed last minute small tours in Vietnam. This would not be as relaxing and I was so unfit; I wondered how I would go alone in the plane, I had suffered plane motion sickness in the past, but this kind of trip was more me. Furthermore, two days at Gaia Retreat was costing as much as this 8-Days last-minute tour! 

I bought a ticket on VietJet airlines for Vietnam! 

Let's Do It! 

(I had to travel on my French passport since there was no time for the required visa for Vietnam for Australian passport holders)

On the morning of my birthday, I had breakfast with my two children; 

In the evening, I was in the plane.

And this is what happened: 

a Pleiades of Enchantments... everything organised for me, for once.

Hanoi - Hue - Danang - Hoi An 

in a delightful group of Five + a very competent local guide

Hanoi Opera House 

in a rickshaw following this one

Hanoi - Like Paris in many ways

Beautiful Old Hanoi where I made myself a ring to mark the occasion 

My room navigating in Unesco-listed Halong Bay

The View!

Halong Bay

 

Squid Fishing at night

Pearl farm near Danang

All I need!

Hue Royal Capital

Palace newly restored two years ago

Buddhist Monastery

Fishing Boats

Hoi An - Old Merchant Port with Japanese and Chinese Influences

Hoi An with the Team

 

Rice fields

Eating a delicious omelette with a coconut 

Hoi An

My favourite dish MY QUANG - countryside noodles with seafood and quails eggs

'My Son' 

Hindu Temples south of Hoi An, probably my favourite sightseeing of that trip.

New restoration work as well under the patronage of UNESCO, Ministry of cultures from India & Vietnam, Germany and Italy.

Walking towards 'My Son' Temples

'My Son'

Kali

Ancient Sanskrit scriptures

 I returned to Brisbane one week later, refreshed, refuelled. 

Closed friends welcomed me with beautiful oranges roses that day. They said I had changed, we watched the photos projected from my mobile on the big screen (the neighbours came later) and had a nice meal together on my deck.

I signed up for a gym, went to a 

new placement interview for this semester (and was successful), bought a new pair of glasses, a new mobile phone (the tour guide would not take group pictures with it declaring it had the worst camera of the group - bonjour la subtilité, and Google said the battery was a hazard and gave me a credit to redeem), and finally, I organised for my retaining wall (damaged by Alfred) to be repaired. 

Finally, I did a weekend workshop at Brisbane Institute of Arts learning how to draw people: 4 models in two days.

Ready for my *THIRD ACT 

(*see Jane Fonda's video on the subject)

On Becoming A Therapist and On Finally Going on Holiday...

Six years+ of studies and this year, I am finally practicing! 

My Therapy Room

At first, I felt I had too much information to ponder each time, how could I possibly think of everything while facing a client.

We started with two therapists for one client for the first 6 months, with one as the lead and the other one as a reflector, but now we have moved on to one-to-one. 

My client base is expanding and on average my clients come to see me six times (max allowed since it is a free service) with only one who came once. 

The transformation from a terrified student to a practitioner is operating and I now can feel the identity shift towards professional. I no longer listen so much to the patients' stories as to their thinking and emotional patterns in the context of my counselling practice. It's like becoming a mind's mechanics. I am careful not to do that outside of work because I don't want to lose the magic in relationships that I love so much.

Most clients come physically to the University Mental Health Clinic, and this is my preferred way of meeting them since I can tune in better with them at all levels, including non verbal expressions,

others prefer Zoom meetings, if they are not well, unable to access, or people from remote areas.

I am not at liberty to discuss particular cases, but I have so far been exposed to a large variety of cases, with presentations going from exam anxiety, visa anxiety, intercultural adjustments, relationship issues, workplace bullying, to trauma exposure, chronic pain, grief, adhd, autism, severe depression, childhood abuse, rape and schizophrenia. My therapeutical approaches will depend on the client: CBT for maladaptive thoughts, ACT for acceptance work, narrative, solution-focused, existential, psychodynamics for long term in-depth work, dialectic behavioural, IPT, motivational interviewing for substance abuse for example, Gestalt, person-centred, feminist, PTM...

 I have enjoyed co-counselling sessions with some fellow master of counselling students immensely. It has been a bonding experience as we grew as professionals together, sharing our initial fears, overriding them and building expertise together under the watchful eye of our respective supervisors.

I so far have logged 50+ individual session hours. Another five months to go. I should be able to register with PACFA by November after I would have logged the required amount of hours and have graduated, hopefully. I have only one course left, gerontology, that will be completed by the end of July.

After that, the big question will be, should I make the big jump, should I work for an organisation, go freelance? What is now established is that I love this job and feel I can do it; I did not have the answer to that in January, so it is a breakthrough for me.

Now, we are reaching the end of June, and my children are sending me on holiday!

 They told me about it in February. I was not sure I would be up to it in June. Their dad will be looking after Josie during that time before he moves more permanently to Townsville for his new job. 

Last time I went on holiday was in 2018, it gave me vertigo! 

What to chose? I wanted to go and do too many things. 

Turns out I am going to Italy with a friend!

My mind and body are aching for a rest and a change of scenery. This semester has been particularly loaded between full time studies, work and placement. I was not sure I would even make it logistically, intellectually, physically but yeah, it all went well, and my daughter is getting better with only 3 presentations to emergency this year so far (compared to 29 in 2020), 

so the timing is perfect!

My Dog in Home Therapist Coach

Cyclone Alfred

 This is how the cyclone looked like from the sky on Sunday March, the 3rd, 2025 as we received a Brisbane City Council Severe Weather Cyclone alert.

Resident of two states, Queensland and New South Wales, were asked to make preparations for the cyclone. The alert was on a zone covering 1000 kms of coastline. On Sunday, we were told it would hit the coast at category 2 on Wednesday, on Monday, we were told it would be Thursday. The cyclone was making loops. We prepared our houses and waited, in fear, barricaded in our homes, like during Covid. All shops were closed, it could strike any time now.

The question was : How bad? 

According the the Australian Bureau of Meteorology (BOM), it was a Cat 2. What does it mean? According to BOM, category 2 means destructive winds, minor house damage, damage to signs, trees and caravans. Heavy damage to crops. Risk of power failure, Max wind speed 89-117 km/h. Typical Strongest gust 125-164 km/h.

Decisions had to be made - should we stay or should we go? We still had two days, and reaching Sydney (900 kms) takes only one day. Leaving on a hill, I was more concerned by the wind than by the floods. My main concern was: would the roof hold. From my enquiries online, it 'seemed' that a small traditional tin roof would hold 120km/h, up to 160km/h if it had been done recently and according to highest standards. Mine was constructed in 1920, and had only been lightly sealed after I bought the house. Not everybody goes through the same stresses under climate threat emergency situations. 

On Tuesday, the cyclone was fearing at 130km/h, what to do? My son was safer but alone at his dad's place which had concrete areas. His dad was in the UK. My son offered we go there, in his area if the house that he rents. My daughter felt safer at home. I convened with the neighbours and we agreed that as long as it remains a Cat 2, it should be ok. In North Queensland, where cyclone usually take place, residents did not seem to worry unless it reaches Cat 3, we were told. Ok, then. I think we were all lacking experience. Retrospectively, I think residents of houses like me should have been encouraged to leave. It looked like a high Cat 2. 

With my daughter, we queued to gather sand bags. It was run by volunteers bringing 1 CBM of sand bags at a time with 50 people around in a circle, via forklift. At first, a woman snatched two bags from my hands. It happened at an unconscious level, she even smiled coyly at me. I think her survival brain did not agree with her even. After three rounds, a man was taking the sandbags out of the crate for everyone else. You see the worse and the best of people in difficult situation. I think I already said that somewhere :)

Anyway, we got ready. sand bags were put in front of retaining wall, back door, and a couple extra for unforeseen needs, one in case of toilet bowl overflow, the bath was filled with water, mobile phones were fully charged, solar powered chargers at hands, a battery powered radio was lent by my son, the bins secured with ropes, outdoor equipment taken to storage, and the deck table out inside as a shelter for our heads in case the roof goes down and the windows blow.

In the meanwhile, surfers were having a ball on the Gold Coast.

And others were making themselves comfortable in the safest room

We were living in a state of extreme anxiety, yet, the cyclone took its time on an unpredictable path. 

It was now going to hit Friday night or Saturday, the winds were 120km/h.

Then, the city council got annoyed with the surfers who could get fined $16K for surfing.

A makeshift refuge was opened in RNA showground, you had to bring your own food, and no bed was provided. I considered.

Friday the 7th, BOM screen was showing a cyclone - where was Wally? - the sky was blue, it was not even raining, the streets were quiet, not a car in the streets, it was eyrie, ... but yes, it was coming, probably tonight.

By now, people were making jokes about the cyclone's path

6:00pm Friday night is when my anxiety level was at its peak, the cyclone's arrival  was imminent. I could feel my heart racing. Was I ready for, perhaps, the end. 

I was looking at the neighbourhood FB page posts, when out of the blue, a woman said not to worry, she was a psychic and she could see Alfred was 'afraid' of Brisbane ($#@!), and another person who said she was a psychic as well, and could see the same. They received an avalanche of insults. That was not time sensitive to post this on FB community pages, or was it? 'Be respectful, they said'. I was not sure I could be respectful of everyone with such nonsense at this stage.

'You'll see on Monday', they said.

The weather reports was showing gusts of 155km/h, that was bad, it was looking like a high Cat 2 cyclone, plus there was worries about how it will interact with the hot air coming from the land interior.

IT GOT DOWNGRADED to Cat 1 at 7:01pm. We were safe, instant relief, my body regulated itself on the spot.

I took a screenshot of the psychics thread because it is one of these moments when reality beats fiction.

In the meanwhile, some people were doing incredible work for the wildlife

And then later on Friday during the night, it hit us. I could hear as a continuous hissing noise like nothing I had heard before, accompanied by strangely light, but continuous rain. The wind was ferocious. I fear for my roof not holding and was wondering if we would not be safer in the car but it was too late to get out of the house now. I saw a giant mango tree shaking like a leave up the hill. The house was holding remarkably well under the wind. 

This was just the first phase. 

On Saturday, we had A LOT of rain, which went on until Monday morning. 

It first went over Bribie & Stradbroke Islands which thankfully acted as a protective buffer for Brisbane. It got downgraded from Cyclone to Severe Storm. 

Retrospectively, many people considered the cyclone hit on Saturday only when the rain came down pouring madly, and when many houses were destroyed by the floods, but for me, the worse was the wind carrying the highest risks.

Around 300K people lots power. In Paddington, 1500 people lots power on that day, I was lucky I was still on the grid. 

I just had an already weak retaining wall sliding out further under the pressure of the water going down the hill and flowing under the house that will need repairs.

 

By the end of the week, the city council went hard on homeless people, warning that sleeping in the street was illegal. 

I can only imagine what would have happened to me if my house had been destroyed by a high Cat 2... Not many degrees of separation.

One man lost his life after being swept away by the flood water, and 36 military personnel got injured.

 The power was restored very quickly, with only 10% of affected household left without power by the end of the week.

I think I reached my lowest point when I found myself with 160 AUD on my bank account after contracting last minute house insurance, buying one month of food supply, and filling the car tank. I worked out I had just enough left to fill the car again on the road. 

As Brisbane Lord Major put it: "we dodged a bullet'.