Sitting around my dining table in my much-loved home in Bali on January 26th 2020, I entertained three beautiful men. An American yoga friend, a short-term Aussie boyfriend who lived in Bali and an Austrstrailan guest staying in my villas. Tim, the guest, announced in a voice of assumed gravity,” The world will close down within a few months, borders will close, and we won’t be able to travel. There’s a pandemic coming.” He showed some nerdy graphs and facts while we all looked at each other with raised eyebrows thinking the same thing - that he was certifiably mad and possibly on some depressive drug.
By some twist of fate, I found myself in Australia at the end of February for a business meeting. This suited me perfectly as I had fallen quite heavily enamoured with a Commander in the Victorian Police force. So smitten, like a teenage virgin, was I that I hid a handwritten note in my wallet declaring that one day I would marry him. But, unfortunately, when I arrived in Melbourne, he was not that carefree lover that I had enjoyed in Bali but a stressed man overflowing with mega responsibilities as a world descended into a pandemic.
I had a few days to decide - to fly to Sydney or go home to Bali.
The same nerdy friend who sat at my dining table interceded and made up my indecisive mind. “Deb, you can’t go back. It’s not safe, the medical system is too bad there, and you are at high risk of being over 60.”
He’d been right before, so I acquiesced and flew to Sydney to wait out the anticipated few months while this “thing” blew over.
I found a teeny- weeny Airbnb in the same block as my daughters. I unpacked the one small suitcase of summer clothes I had bought - I didn’t own any winter clothes. I vacillated whether to keep paying for a rental car or buy one. But all I could ultimately do was buckle down and wait out the storm.
Time became static, and life became almost motionless; the big excitement was an outing to the supermarket. I snuck in a detour to a department store to fuel my shopping addiction, tempting me like an alcoholic for another drink. The weather became colder, and the days were long empty hours of existence.
My usual buzzing life of interacting with the constant flow of guests in the villas, running the villa and my eight staff and then going to work at Eden the Wellness Centre had all stopped with a sudden foot on the breaks. So did my income.
But most of all, I missed the four dogs and five cats that gave me unconditional love and the feeling of belonging. At night alone in my bed, I longed for their heartbeats close to mine. I yearned for the warmth of their bodies, their little yelps as they dreamed, and the cats who moved around to find different parts of my body to snuggle into. Instead, I’d wake with my nose and fingers frozen and the kids in the upstairs apartment stomping on my head like baby elephants.
The months ticked by, winter came, and I needed a purpose. I was getting clinically depressed - I couldn’t work - lockdown, I wasn’t allowed to see the grandchildren- lockdown, friends - lockdown. I had never felt so alone in my whole life - no love coming in or out. So I started swiping right and found a merry crew of lovely men to hang out with during the lockdown months illicitly.
After six months, I was shrivelling up, and this uncertain, loveless, purposeless life was killing me. I had to go home.
The shock of arriving home was unexpected. I had no idea that my once immaculate home was struggling without funds to maintain it. The rooms were empty, my neighbours had cut down a few trees, the garden was dying, and my Bali family were barely surviving without their boss Mumma.
Although I was home, Bali was a skeleton of its former self. The arteries of the empty streets once were a pulsating mecca for tourists; shops, cafes, restaurants, nightclubs, beach bars were deserted. Life was eerie quiet, the buildings faceless, the sadness and the desperation in the soulful eyes of my Balinese people. I felt a huge burden and longed for love and reassurance. I desperately wanted to fall asleep in the arms of a strong man to help carry this pain and sadness. But, instead, my business was gone and so was my life as I knew it. Few friends had remained, and a different breed of loneliness crept into my aching heart.
I hit rock bottom again, but this time even though I was on antidepressants, it didn’t stop the rapid slide.
No men to distract me, no business, few friends. I had two choices - sink or swim.
I self-designed a program (there are places for drugs and alcohol addictions but not for finding happiness) and spent a month with gifted therapists learning how to rewrite and reboot my system. It was hard, nurturing, remarkable and rewarding, and I came out understanding for the first time that I was the lover I had been searching for. I understood what it felt like to self-love and look in the mirror and be able to say I love you, Deborah, all of you, warts and all. I learnt how self-nurture and to cradle myself when I was scared and confused. I learnt how to listen to my voice, my body and make my choices, no one telling me what to do and to trust in that voice. I learnt how to laugh again and that it was ok to be happy and to be sad. I learnt how to forgive myself for all my failures and look at my shame with compassion. I knew that it was ok to live with myself that I was more than enough.
Ten months have passed since I returned. Finally, my home is back to its former glory. I have a few long-term paying guests that don’t cover costs but help create a community. But unfortunately, Eden was taken away from me by the landlord as I didn’t pay the rent. And I finally went on a date with an adorable man who became not a lover but a close friend.
I go to sleep at night alone and happy with my fur family. I feel joy in my heart for all the loves and losses and the great stories and experiences I have accumulated and can share. I have fallen deeply in love with creating the Gutsy Granny, which is far more complex and demanding than any love affair. And I know the universe is always watching my back and as Abraham Hicks says, “Everything is always working out for me even if I don’t realise it .”
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