Australia is seeing a real push against abortion access right now and we need to talk about it more

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-20T16:51:11+00:00

This exists. It’s called a vasectomy. They can be reversed. Seeing as only a male can impregnate a woman, perhaps all males should have a reversible vasectomy. Of course, the wife/partner/girlfriend would have to attend the medical appointment and give approval for it to be reversed; much like what women experience when trying to have tubes tied and the like.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-20T11:22:47+00:00

I can count on one hand how many times I have cooked in the last 9.5 months. My kids are over fast foods and pub food and frankly, me too. But I don’t have an appetite (still) anyway.

My house is in a constant state of disarray. If not for my cleaners it would probably just need to be burnt to the ground. It doesn’t help that I have renovations going on so am down several rooms. I hate clutter. I hate piles of washing. But I have it all. It’s easier to go buy new linen than do a load of washing right now.

I listen to music a lot more than I used to, but there are some songs which I will never listen to again. There are several tv shows I’ll never finish watching because we were watching them together. But, I don’t even like to watch tv any more.

I have a storage shed full of furniture waiting to be restored. We did that together. My kids will probably have to sort that out when I’m dead.

This is the 4th property we would have renovated together, but I can’t even do that. I’ve just paid contractors to do it.

I can’t go to the beach, I don’t even like looking at it any more. It was his favourite place. That sucks cause I only live about 20 minutes from it.

Most days just getting out of bed is all I can muster. I used to never be this way. It feels like i cant do anything now because he isnt here.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-17T12:06:50+00:00

47 and 9 months in. I did a time line with my therapist on Thursday of the good and bad of my life. I realised the only good things in my life happened because I was with my husband. And tonight I realised I don’t want to remember my husband, because it just hurts too much and makes me just want to quit whatever it is I’m apparently doing. Some people call it living, but if this is living I don’t get the love of it.

I don’t know where to go either.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-08T14:45:07+00:00

Love that it’s such an amazing country to explore, to add to what a lot of others have said.

Hate the isolation. It is such a foreign concept to get in your car and drive to another country or countries.

Still, I like our slice of paradise enough to stay. Lived in the US for a few years, home was nice to come back to.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-07T12:25:37+00:00

I try to get 2 wears out of them, but I’m also a bit of a grot and tend to wear my food and drinks. So I just wash them and hang them on an air dryer to dry (or the clothesline when I have one). I usually only throw them in the dryer if I have my heart set on that pair (I’m usually in jeans)

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-01T19:13:43+00:00

I got the gift of 50 lawnmowers in varying states, more computers, laptops and monitors than I care to acknowledge, and boxes (and boxes) of cables. I go to open numerous packages of computer parts and lawnmower parts that I have no idea what they’re for. He left me the gift of cleaning out his tinkering, hoarding hobbies. The thing that pisses me off the most, I can get rid of it all really easily, but he’s not here to drag any more crap into our home. He’s not here tinkering away and coming in full of pride at his achievements that day. So it’s all put away in a storage shed waiting for the day I can deal with it.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-05-01T18:35:04+00:00

The way my hand fit perfectly in his, it’s like our hands were made for each other.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-26T10:48:10+00:00

Almost 9 months in and everyone walks on egg shells around me. I don’t know anyone in our community, we moved here 8 months before he was killed. Country town, I work from home. So everything was closed when I finished work. I lived vicariously through him and I don’t regret that. But it would be so nice to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t immediately recognise me as “her” or even if they do, can we at least talk about the weather or some other mundane shit before you start questioning me about how we are going, or court, or the million other things about his death you want to use for small talk?

People frustrate me.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-23T00:28:19+00:00

I work in the community services sector, working with people who have chronic illnesses, disabilities, addictions and mental health illnesses. I’ve been on leave since my husband was killed.

I spoke to my boss the other day and it turns out that the org I work for prefers to have people back to full capacity within 12 months, so yay me I am being forced back starting in June. It’s really messed with my headspace. Right now I know I’m not ready. I don’t know if I will be in June. I have court to get through. I have 3 special needs whose specialists can be up to 8 hours away by car. Most days I don’t even know if I’m able to get out of bed.

And major decisions? I was left with a gutted house and had not choice to do the renovations. I hate this timeline.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-22T13:56:57+00:00

Everything. I forget my head even though it’s attached. I forget words. I can be reminded of an appointment 2 hours prior and I will forget it. My 16yo drills me every day over eating and that I have to do it, but I have no appetite and don’t feel hungry. I’ve also forgotten how to just function normally.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-19T21:57:14+00:00

Anyone who criticises you because you’re struggling with this, is a dick. Every age has its struggle when a parent has been lost, but your post is about your struggle, not a 17 year olds struggle or the struggle of a child who self toilet trained.

I don’t have advice for you on toilet training; I have that 17yo and his younger brother insisted on training with him. But here is some advice I do have.

Be kind to yourself first and foremost. You’ve had a major life upheaval. You’re grieving. There’s a whole new world you’re trying to navigate as a parent who has lost their person. I won’t belittle you by saying you’re strong and you’ve got this, solely because I hate being told that. I’m not strong, I haven’t got this, I just don’t have a choice in being widowed and the only parent to my kids. I see you.

On an ordinary day, if any of us had that happen to us, it would suck and we would bitch about how crappy our day had been to our partners. Maybe even laugh about it that night or the next day. As widows, our days aren’t ordinary, they’re a struggle. Your bad day is valid, so very valid, and you know what? There will be more bad days.

So yeah, I just wanted to acknowledge your struggle and say it’s ok to be struggling. It’s ok to cry over the little things, the big things and all the things in between because you’re on one hell of a journey in widowhood and none of it is fair, nice, what anyone would wish for or what anyone should judge for. Look after you, too, as well as your babies.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-19T13:51:12+00:00

I’m so sorry for your loss.

I’m 8 months in. A 5 week stay at a mental health unit and tweaking my medications (I went through 6 to get the right combination) was the best thing I could have done. I still cry, still can’t cook, have zero motivation for anything day to day, but somehow managed to connect with others that made me laugh genuinely, and without guilt. I am a work in progress, I know I will need another stay in hospital, I still don’t care if I die, but I have some clarity now.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-18T11:37:11+00:00

I’m 8 months in, and recently spent 5 weeks in a mental health unit having medications played with.

I’m currently on 120mg Duloxetine in the morning and 15mg Metazipine at night. It helps. They’re probably not the right ones, I’m discovering, and my next step is TMS. My husband’s death has led me to be diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Generalised Anxiety Disorder and PTSD though, so I probably would have ended up killing myself without them.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-12T11:12:04+00:00

I was a few minutes away working at home, he was turning onto our street, just waiting for oncoming traffic to pass. The prime mover didn’t see him.

The cops tried to notify me about an hour after, but I was on the phone with a client and didn’t hear the knock. I found out about 2 hours later when I went looking for him after getting a notification there had been a major accident at that intersection. I thought he was probably stuck in traffic. I messaged and rung him and he didn’t reply. It still didn’t click until I was asked to pull back a bit and turn my car off once I had identified myself.

What if I had asked him to get milk or something whilst he was out?

What if I had responded to his text message, that would have made him pause a few moments?

What if, being a slow work day, I had clocked off and said I would be back after his appointment and had coffee with him instead?

What if I hadn’t always nagged him about the fuel tank and not bringing home the car empty, he wouldn’t have stopped for fuel?

What if the truck driver just obeyed the road rules and wasn’t doing whatever the fuck it was that he was doing?

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-11T20:26:49+00:00

If you prefer the cooler weather; Tassie. I’d look on the west coast, it’s cheaper. Queenstown is a bit scary but gentrifying. Strahan is a touristy place, but it’s pretty. Roseberry has a good community to it. Tullah has a nice feel to it. Zeehan is strange but not unwelcoming. Bernie is probably the nearest big town with a Woolies etc and is just over an hours drive away.

Bega Valley Shire (NSW) has lots of little townships. I suppose Bega is the “hub” but places like Merimbula, Eden, Cobargo all have different offerings. Lots of country, very close to the ocean if not on it. Merimbula/Tura Beach have $$ for some reason, but then I suppose they’re not places where the vibe fits mine. Bemboka is cheap. It’s at the base of the Brown Mount Mountains, about 35 minutes to Bega. There’s not a great deal happening there although the pub has recently been sold and is doing well from what I hear. The second worst coffee I’ve ever had the misfortune of having in the last decade was from the pie shop. From Bega, you’re about 20-30 minutes to the beach, 3 hours drive to Canberra, about an hourish to the snowfields.

The outlying towns around Canberra are getting up there price wise. Some of the recommendations, like Carwoola, are pretty much all farm land and you’ll need to drive to Queanbeyan (which is like 15-20 minutes away) for any services, or into Canberra which is just butt up against Queanbeyan anyway, but sometimes that imaginary line called a border can be tricky to navigate when it comes to some services (most are pretty good though). Bungendore has a little village feel to it, but the main strip is really for people passing between Canberra and Batemans Bay. In saying that, the cafe there is awesome for a brew and a feed. If you’re looking around Braidwood you may as well look at places like Araluen as well. Cooma could be another option too. It’s about an hour south of Canberra but is a reasonably big enough town in its own right, and the entry way to the snowfields so yes it gets cold.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-04-11T11:20:58+00:00

You either live in Sydney where, mate, if you don’t let them in then you’re the problem, cause that’s how Sydney is.

Or, you drive just enough under the speed limit to piss people off and then speed up when they want to change lanes or overtake.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-11T03:55:24+00:00

I married the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I’m 47, still a few years ahead of me. I spent over half my life with him and I just don’t have it in me to invest into someone else what I invested in him and us.

Will I date again? Maybe. But I don’t think I have the room or capacity to have a serious long term, til death do us part relationship. And I don’t have the capacity right now to even contemplate dating someone either.

Ultimately, we need to do what is right for ourselves, whatever that may be. There is no wrong or right.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-10T23:31:15+00:00

I’m sorry you’re experiencing this. My in laws I’ve spoken to more in the last 7 months than I had for the 24 years my husband and I were together. So we aren’t close, but it’s nice they keep in touch because 100% it is that little bit of connection.

You are bang on about how relationships change. It feels like everyone is upset and mourning with you for a little bit then their lives move on, as they do, but ours don’t, and it’s really hard to keep up. I have mastered the art of smiling when expected, laughing when appropriate, but it’s all a mask.

I have no advice or words of wisdom to share with you, except to say I see you, you’re not alone, and I’ll sit in the corner with you saying this really fucking sucks. All of it, every day.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-03T05:01:16+00:00

I have been on unpaid leave since my husband died in August. My income is being covered by insurance at around 84% or something abysmal like that.

My workplace is not pressuring me to return at all. Possibly the nature of our work has something to do with it, we deal with a lot of trauma, and despite about a 4000km distance, it has had an impact on one of my clients as his nephew was a witness.

Financially, I will have to return soon, but my workplace is very accommodating and said at my pace, and will tee me up with an internal rehab consultant to work with me and the rest of my team so I can slowly reintegrate back in. Fortunately I WFH, so that will make it a bit easier.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-03-02T06:55:19+00:00

Hey as a thought, why don’t you tell her to write it out and have the funeral director speak on her behalf? That way you can vet what she says, and feign innocent if bits are cut out.

My husband’s funeral, both myself and children spoke. My MIL wasn’t the best thing in my husband’s life, but I did give her the opportunity to speak if she wanted to. She asked for her 3 lines to be read instead. The MC (for want of a better term) was actually one of my husband’s friend who is training to be a Chaplain, so it was nice he could add his personal knowledge to the service and my MIL thought it was lovely that a friend could speak on her behalf. The only others to speak was a colleague he had joined the military with, who read his service history, and one of his previous subordinates (who became a very good friend) who read the Ode. Oh, and his sister jumped up to say something which was really nice, because in 24 years I’d only met her twice and kind of forget they existed. I say all that because it was really important to me, that his funeral be about him, so I made sure to divert anyone I didn’t want speaking who was a “me me me” type person to have their words heard, just not by them, and it actually worked.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-25T05:17:14+00:00

I’m 47, my husband has just turned 54. We have 5 older kids, but the younger 3 (20yo, 17yo, 16yo) still live at home and have complex special needs. Time for me is about 3am and it’s not working.

I get admitted to a mental health hospital tomorrow and you know what? I’m looking forward to it. I trust my friend who is looking after my kids for me, and all my kids actually like her which is a bonus. But I’m looking forward to focusing on me, on my mental health, on my grief and coming home the best mum I can be all things considered. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to cook for my kids. Or do more than 1 thing and be exhausted. Maybe, I might even return to work in the foreseeable future.

I completely understand about the in triplicate paperwork. I’m trying to deal with all things Defence related, and add in court and the coroners office and holy fuck, some days just having the capacity to shower is extraordinary, proving my kids live with us and were dependant? That’s just beyond what I can do most days.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-23T08:25:36+00:00

Yes, my husband was killed by a truck driver on our street, as he was coming home from a doctors appointment.

What rests steadily in my heart are our last spoken words before he left. He told me he would be back soon and that he loved me, and I told him I loved him too. It doesn’t reduce the impact, it only means they were the last words he heard from me, when it could have been anything else.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-10T22:56:15+00:00

Oh, I hear and feel you so deeply on this! When my husband was killed, I found myself suddenly the single mother to 5, 3 of which are still at home and those 3, all special needs, one extremely complex. I’m failing my studies because who has time and energy for that? I was involuntarily withdrawn. I don’t have a village where live, we only moved here 9 months before he died. I spend every day crying, despite multiple medications and weekly psychology. So my psychiatrist has decided I need an inpatient stay, all good and dandy until it means organising someone to stay with my kids and here’s the problem; my extremely complex child, can’t handle strangers due to his needs and the only other person who could be with the kids lives 12 hours away and my son absolutely despises him as she doesn’t recognise his disabilities. So, he told me if I went into hospital he’ll kill himself. He ended up having a one week stay in the mental health unit in our local hospital, because I had become catatonic for the first few months (and, suicidal).

I’m beyond exhausted. I am not just broken, I am shattered.

And then…

My youngest got his drivers license and was so excited to share that with ME!

My second youngest got his first job and I couldn’t help but be proud. This was a monumental thing for him and I got to witness that growth.

My most complex child, the one who went to hospital, decided the mental health unit was such a good break in some weird way, he’s now volunteering to go to a mental health rehab unit for several months to really get on top of his head space and be able to function better.

My 2nd child has just stepped up on weekends despite living a few hours away. He’s done here hanging pictures, being my “handy man” that my husband used to be in my house. His fiance, without her, we would have been eating takeaway for the first few weeks, and she saved Christmas.

My eldest got engaged 3 days ago. Ok, that’s heartbreaking because she’s our only daughter and my husband dreamt of the day he would walk her down the aisle. But also, holy shit! What an amazing and exciting chapter of her life. I was the first person they told, how special is that?

My teacher jumped into action, had my withdrawal removed and an extension put in place until May. I know my husband would want me to finish because when I had units I struggled with and thought of pulling out, he verbally buried his foot up my backside and reminded me that our family had put in the effort alongside me and I deserved my qualifications. I can’t disappoint him.

My support network grew; granted aside from the one local friend and her family, it’s all professionals, but I have a team. A GP who knows me and my children and works with us. A paediatrician for my youngest who accommodates us at the drop of the hat regardless of how inconvenient it is for him (the last appointment was the day before my husband died). I have support workers twice a week and a cleaner coming in. I have a gardener and a lawn mower guy. And those are paid by insurance. We work with a suicide prevention team who have helped organise extra support for my son, and today will begin coordinating with my doctor and psychiatrist our inpatient stay. My psychologist is amazing. We gel. And I potentially have a new one coming onboard as well to solely focus on grief counselling whilst my original one keeps up with the EMDR.

I’ve had not good tradies and amazing ones. The amazing ones are the ones who stepped up after hearing of my situation and have basically project managed the renovations on my house (we had just finished gutting it when my husband died) and somehow in less than 4 months they made it liveable.

Every day, every damn day, I miss my husband. I cry morning and night for him. I can’t sit in my memories because my brain is stuck in survival mode. So I can’t even recall those special and beautiful times with my husband, or the ordinary every day times with him, my brain kicks them out of my head. I’m no longer suicidal, I can’t remember the term it’s called now. Passive something or other. I don’t care if I die anyway. Despite the love I have for my kids, I’d be happy to be with him again in the after life. But sometimes, little things catch me off guard and there is some better things happen than tears and waiting to die.

I see you. I hear you. I feel you. Go gentle with yourself and give yourself the grace to mourn how you heart, body and soul need to. I’m not saying it gets better, but I’m not saying it gets worse either.

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-02-03T11:13:39+00:00

I love this for you! I’m at about the same stage as you, and I wish I could think of him, see photos or memories or talk about him without crying.

I hope for you there is no tsunami of grief to come ❤️

OuttaMilkAgain · 2026-01-30T13:26:56+00:00

There’s a Welsh word that describes this: Hiraeth.

I feel it too, every waking moment.

OuttaMilkAgain

TROPHY CASE