The Ruby Knight Chronicles

  Come See Ruby On Facebook 3rd May 2016 I've been in aussie for about 5 weeks or so now. It was going swimmingly but this week I just can't seem to shake this heavy feeling off from my head and heart. Missing home. Missing my cat. Missing my family. But mostly I'm missing this amazing little guy.  I'm taking things a day at a time but this week is just so not a good week. I feel so out of place, like I don't belong here. Like an intrud er almost. I was really lucky to have my friend and her family take me in, and they've been really great, but I just can't shake this offness. It's like when you go to a party and you don't know anyone and everyone has grown up together and they all have their stories and inside jokes and memories. And you're just like this random loser laughing when everyone else laughs without even knowing what you're laughing about. You try to fit in, and you get little snippets of feeling like a part of the team, b

Come See Ruby On Facebook Do you ever just have days where you feel so unplugged from the world around you? Those days where you try your hardest to reattach to everyone and everything but it seems the harder you try, the more you seem to just drift away from it all. Where you feel like you're drowning underneath this invisible all-encompassing all-consuming blanket of just nothingness and everythingness all at once, and n othing you do can free you from its suffocating grip. You're worthless. Invisible. Villainous. Ostracized. Nothing. And no one even seems to notice just how hard it is for you to breath. No one sees that blanket of fear and guilt and shame and anxiety that's bearing down on you slowly strangling the life from your body. No one recognises your desperate gasps for normality. You're alone. And that's simultaneously the best and worst part of all of it. That's just a glimpse into how it feels to live with depression. A slight scratch o

Come See Ruby On Facebook Sometimes when everything goes wrong, and keeps going wrong, we get caught up in this vicious cycle of fear and comfort. Fear of change, the unknown, more failure, going it alone. And comfortable in the chaos because it's what we're used to. What we know. What we begin to expect from life. Until you're ready to seek new horizons, your circumstances will never get any better. Sure if you start ane w, you might fail. But even greater; you might succeed. Never be afraid to step out on a ledge in life. Fear is nothing but a limitation you put on yourself. You deserve to live a fulfilling and abundant and amazing life. Stop selling yourself short because you're too scared or too comfortable to get out in the world and chase your dreams. The only wasted life is one filled with wasted opportunities. Be brave. I was a month ago when I decided to move countries and start again, and I've never been happier. Until next time, Ruby xx

Come See Ruby On Facebook 17th April 2016 I'm a bit of a lone wolf at heart. I'm so used to doing everything by myself and whenever I'm sick or going through something, I retreat and deal with things on my own without people even noticing something was wrong. I've never really had anyone that pushed through the barriers I create and force their way in to help me. On rare occasions I get my parents involved but for the most part I tend to remain closed off and stubbornly independent. I think it stems from not wanting to be a burden on anyone. And that stems from not feeling confident in myself enough to feel comfortable reaching out. And also from being the "go to" person. The one that rolls their sleeves up and does what needs doing without a second thought. When that's a part of your nature, you tend to just crack on with things without looking for other's involvement. Sometimes being so independent is a blessing because I feel co

Come See Ruby On Facebook   14th April 2016 I actually did it. I moved country. I got on a plane with a suitcase of things and flew to the very end of Australia. I've been here two weeks now and I still can't quite believe it. Biggest scariest thing I've ever done in my life. Asides from missing my brother and cat like mad, it's been an amazing adventure so far. Let me take you riiiiight back to the start. Thursday night. Night before I leave Kawerau. After an ordeal with my passport being mucked up and then having to pay for it to be rushed and freaking the freak out about it, all was thankfully sorted out miraculously and my passport awaited me in Auckland. All of my last night at home I'm frantically going through my years of collecting hoarder stuff because I ALWAYS leave things to the last minute. Threw out 14 bags of things I no longer needed/wanted. Filled my dad's spare room. Loaded my suitcases. Said my goodbyes. Made them casual and

Come See Ruby On Facebook As much as I like to think I'm a badass warrior bitch queen with full body armour made of dragon's scales and diamonds, sometimes things can still get to me. And more often than not, they're things that appear to be only insignificant and small. But usually they're the last straws. I don't often let the chaos of the world, and of others, enter my life, but some days I'm feeling a little sad or ti red or unwell or I just had a bad day. And on those days I'm weaker than usual. And vulnerable. And these things can then manage to find a way in past my armour and strike me right in the heart. And it hurts more than it should because these seemingly tiny little things have momentum. They're powered by all the other things that have struck me in the past and all the ones that tried to get in to hurt me but couldn't until this one little thing paved the way. And suddenly they've overcome me. And I feel like I'm wounde

Come See Ruby On Facebook I've never used to be the type of person that would talk about their feelings. I used to think I could get through life like this, until I met my first serious boyfriend. My lack of emotional communication skills often led to some very heated exchanges. I would let my hurts and annoyances fester inside of me until they became too big to contain and would end up erupting in a slew of cursewords and  abuse. It got so bad that my ex felt too scared to talk to me about anything. I knew I had to make a change but I just didn't know how. So with any new venture I take in life, I started slow. I began by being honest with myself about my feelings rather than burying them deep down and forgetting about them until it was too late. I quickly learned that I was a very sensitive person and that people's words and actions affected me deeply and often. At first I thought my sensitivity was a major flaw, but now I know it's one of my greatest st

All my adult life, I've been the go to person. The rock. The shoulder. The reliable one. The one that pulls up her sleeves to get stuck in and do the hard dirty work. I left my own life and ambitions behind for my ex. I did it again when my parents divorced. And I'm doing it still for my grandparents. I get genuinely upset when others are upset and I try really hard to help out when and how I can. I've sacrificed so much and given so much of myself and life away to others, and it never seems to come back when I need it. I've been so helpful and generous that people just expect it from me now, so acknowledgement and appreciation are seemingly always overlooked. I deal with all my issues and problems on my own, not because I want to, but because no one is ever around when I need them, they only reappear in my life when they need me again. I'm sick of being everyone's doormat and boxing bag. I'm sick of being the one that always misses out so others don

Come See Ruby On Facebook Thank you for holding my handbag without flinching every time I need to use the loo.  Thank you for giving me your jersey when it's cold even though you told me it would be cold and I should take a jacket but I chose to ignore you because my outfit was on point. Thank you for holding my hand even when it's sweatier than a fat man's crotch in a sauna. Thank you for letting me touch your eyelashes because they're so dark and long and pretty. Thank you for massaging my feet after a long day in the very shoes you told me would hurt my feet. Thank you for saying "good morning beautiful" to me even when I wake up looking like a sasquatch that's been electrocuted. Thank you for pretending you don't hear me fart. Thank you for putting on my necklaces and bracelets even when the clasps are ridiculously tiny in your giant manhands. Thank you for letting me warm my icicle feet up on your body. Thank you for getting excited every tim

Come See Ruby On Facebook Once upon a time there was a girl who was best of friends with a boy.  He looked like Ben Harper. He was crazy and funny and as open and honest as I was. I loved him from the moment we first talked to each other. He was my friend's older sister's boyfriend's friend. I remember being really excited about seeing him whenever I arrived to see my friend. But we weren't fast friends though. I was too busy being a skank and he was too busy probably being the same thing. I'm not even sure how we got each other's numbers but a few years later we caught up and were as thick as thieves. Harper was my comedian when I was having a bad day. He was my assassin when someone hurt me. And my masseuse when my back was achey. He is to this day one of the funniest people I've ever met and one of my most loyal friends. We got up to all kinds of mischief together and one of my favourite New Years was spent in his garage talking the night away high o

I've never been shy about my past. I've done things I'm embarrassed about and things I regret, but there's nothing I can do to change what's already been done so I know not to beat myself up for my faults or mistakes. One of the things that people seem to judge me for the most is my sexual history and my openness about it. I LOVE sex. More than most men do even. I think it's the best thing about b eing a human being. Nothing beats sex. The feeling. The connection. The release. The love. But it wasn't always so special to me. In the beginning it was just a means to an end. I felt unloved and unworthy of love for most of my life and I went looking for it in all the wrong bedrooms. I mistook lust for love and became more and more desperate in my search for romance and fulfillment. I was a late bloomer, my first time was when I was just about 18. I had just changed schools and was hanging out with a girl that did drugs and had dodgy friends. One of her frien

When I was a teenager, I was OOOOOBSESSED with Marilyn Manson. Everything that man did, I was all over. I loved how he was unapologetically insanely different to everyone and everything. I always felt like a black sheep to not only my family, but to the world, and for some reason, it always made me feel inferior and unworthy. So when I found Manson, his music and musings became the catalyst that n ot only allowed, but encouraged, me to fly my freak flag high. I was weird yet wonderful and unashamed of my uniqueness for the first time in my life. I reveled in the spotlight that came from being the odd bod, the goth kid, the weirdo in black, the loser, the raven haired freak. I was finally comfortable and confident in myself. I went from wallflower to a walking Halloween tribute practically overnight. People used to point and stare, but it didn't bother me, in fact, it gave me a bit of a thrill. And then Manson married Dita Von Teese. And naturally my obsession grew to in

I've always had a lot on my plate. I'm the sort of person that goes out of my way to help others and that usually means others go out of their way to find me when they need help. When you're constantly the go-to person, it can all get a bit much at times so you need to be able to give yourself some sort of release. And for over a decade, smoking was my release. Whenever I was stressed; I'd smoke.  Whenever I was happy; I'd smoke. Whenever I was sad; I'd smoke. After meals. Before bed. In the car. While drinking. After errr... adult activities. During a run even. Smoking had started off as a rare social thing and slowly but surely, it had crept its way into all areas of my life. I was so hooked that even when I was in the hospital, I found a way to sneak out for a puff. I knew something had to change. I don't even know the exact day that I quit but it's over 6 months ago now. It wasn't a special day. I think it might have been a Sunday. I don'

When I complain about being alone, it doesn't mean I'm desperate enough to date just anybody that puts their hand up.  I tried to fill the true love void with lots of lovers in my teens and I only ended up feeling worse. I know I might face many more days of being alone but I will never concede defeat in something so important to me as love. Even if it means waking up as a single 60-something yea r old with 60-something cats. Some alone days are harder than others. Those are the days I voice my wish of finding romantic love. But just because I'm willing to admit I'm feeling lonely, doesn't mean I'm willing to be with just anyone so that I'm not alone. Don't tell me to settle. Don't recite to me the 'pros of being single' list. Don't point out every man and his dog that's offered to be my lover, there's a reason I haven't acted upon the requests, trust in my inactivity. Don't belittle or judge me for my day of lonely

Today was a fat day. I woke up feeling fat. Every item of clothing that wasn't washing felt uncomfortable on. All my photos from today made me look fat. I felt guilty every time I ate. I kept catching myself holding my tummy like a pregnant chick does with her baby bump so it's pretty obvious that even my self conscious is feeling fat. Wednesday was brought to Ruby by the word 'fat'. Arghhh! Mos t of the time, my weight doesn't bother me. Of course I'd like to have the rest of Scarlett Johansson's body (it's fine Scar, I've got the tits part covered, you're good) but that isn't gonna happen until I'm settled in Aussie and joined up at a gym again. I told myself that my last fortnight in NZ would be worryfree but today just had to go and ruin that. Even when you're a confident curvy mamacita with zero fucks to give, sometimes fucks find you and then they make you give them. So you feel fat. And then fat overcomes you. And all o

Out of all the things I've shared with you all, this is the one that's scared me the most to be open about. Not because I'm ashamed, but because I know just how powerfully destructive this difference in beliefs can end up becoming. Please read this with an open mind and open heart. Once upon a time I worked as a medium/spiritual consultant.  A lot of people thought I was crazy but a lot more pe ople came to me for help and guidance. I did this work for 3 years before tragedy struck me and I ended up misplacing my faith. I decided to take a break from what I did until I was able to feel confident in who I was again. I'm still not at that point yet but I know one day that I will be. I'm by no means religious but I'm very spiritual. My friends and family were mostly embarrassed by my gifts and what I was doing so publicly without care or concern. My ex even questioned my authenticity. But I never let anyone's judgements deter me from my work. I loved what I

I was reading through a book called "Dressing Up Vintage" by Tracy Tolkien, and was amazed at some of the fashion facts that I had no idea about. Like did you know that in 1943, billionaire eccentric Howard Hughes, most famous for his contributions to the Aviation industry, invented the Cantilever Underwire Bra? He designed it for  his then girlfriend Jane Russell, to be used in the filming of the movie "The Outlaw", and it's sole purpose was to emphasise her already ample assets. Whilst the book was rather limiting in its substance, it got me intrigued about what other fascinating styles and inventions that may have arisen during the mid part of 1900's. I wanted to completely focus on the Fifties but the more I researched, the more I became overwhelmed with things that occurred before the "Golden Era". I put some thought into it, and decided I didn't want to be pigeon-holed into such a limited duration of time, especially as I live and bre

The other day I watched my 78 year old, 6-stroke surviving, dementia-gaining, half-paralysed Nanna, get up and walk to the loo without asking for anyone's help. Earlier we had talked about her needing to exercise her legs to stop them from hurting, and somehow she remembered our talk and decided to be proactive. Against all the odds she's facing, even as grim as her outlook might be at times, she  still has some fight in her. I watched her and thought "that's the Nan I remember. That's my warrior Nan". When I was about 15, I did work experience with a photographer from a local newspaper. We had spent the morning taking photos of a store opening in some little nowhere town, and I was beginning to think I'd picked the wrong career experience. And then a call came over the radio and all of a sudden we were rushing off to the next town which was by the sea. We arrived at the fishing wharf and on the jetty were dozens of police and ambulance staff. A man ha

When people don't like me, it really gets under my skin. I pride myself on being a people person. I like to be liked. I try hard to maintain relationships and would do anything to help a friend in need. Most of the time, I end up giving much more than I ever get back, and it's become such a common occurrence that I'm actually surprised when a friend is a friend back to me. And that's a little bit  depressing really.  Just recently a girl I thought was my friend, blocked me on Facebook. I've been there for her for work commitments, birthday parties, relationship struggles, tragedies, etc. And not once has she ever returned the favour. And I never expected her to. Looking back now, it's pretty obvious that she just used me, but that doesn't stop the hurt of being tossed aside without rhyme or reason. I don't have a lot of friends, and none in the area that I live. So the ones that I do give my friendship to, they usually mean much more to me

I've been bullied, assaulted, neglected, backstabbed, raped, abused, forgotten, ignored, mocked, harassed, suicidal, broke, sick, unstable and so so so much more throughout my 28 short years. And every time I've gone through something, I've thought it was the end of me.  I'd cry nonstop. Then sleep nonstop. Then eat nonstop. I just never dealt with my issues positively. I wanted people to care fo r me when I didn't care for myself. I wanted to blame the world for what was going on inside of me. I wanted to be the victim. But there was no superhero that came to save the day. Sure people tried to make things better for me but my mindset and attitude ensured they were never successful. Feeling sorry felt too good. Self-pity is a seductive mistress with an addictive hold. As with any addiction, eventually you overcome it, or it overcomes you. I knew I had to save myself. So one day I changed my name so that I could always be my own Knight in shining armour, and then

Minutes after this photo, I was throwing up my dinner in the toilet. All my life, I've felt like the ugly duckling. And a big part of the reason behind that was being curvier than the other girls. In my mind, curvy meant chubby, and chubby was the opposite of sexy and beautiful. So I did everything possible to try to change the size and shape of my body, including some things I'm now horrified t o admit I ever did. Like binging and purging. I love food. I love how food can bring people together and for someone that's felt incredibly lonely all their life, food became not only a vital social activity, but eventually a mistaken form of comfort. It got to the point where I'd eat when I was sad, angry, celebrating, commiserating, for any reason whatsoever. The weight piled on along with the depression. I had to do something, drastic. Rather than taking away my comfort, I continued to eat, but I'd literally eat myself to the point of feeling sick. The first time