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Technology, Cyberspace and Reality Versus Fantasy

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Introduction It could be said that “information poison” infects the mind of a reader like poison ivy, wrapping its noxious tendrils around fact and logic, leaving reality and fantasy intertwined. Consequently, countless reputations, careers and families are destroyed every day for the sake of clicks, sales and advertising revenue. A definition of what “information poison” is and the various guises it can assume, including misinformation, disinformation and mal-information will first be provided. An explanation of how this assortment of metaphorical toxins are spread will be discussed next. It will detail the roles that both the media and the public play in, not only the initial dissemination of information disorder, but also its inevitable proliferation. Following this, an examination of the possible social consequences of this “poisoning” will be undertaken. Finally, in addition to its contribution to the well of polluted information, the ways in which technology could provide a

Honey, my Organs are Escaping!

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Just when I think I have this body of mine figured out, it goes and knocks me for six!  After months of increased Endometriosis flare ups, sleepless nights and countless days spent writhing around my bed in agony, I knew I had to do something.  Living with chronic pain is emotionally draining and physically exhausting.  It's not living at all really... just existing. Endometriosis, or Endo as it is often called,  is a chronic illness with no known cause or cure, affecting 1 in every 10 women (World Endometriosis Society, 2020).  In women with this hereditary disease, tissue similar (but not identical) to the lining of the uterus grows throughout the pelvic cavity, on organs and the reproductive system.  In rare and more severe cases, Endometriosis has been found in every part of the body except the spleen!  This tissue breaks down and bleeds during the woman's monthly cycle, just as the endometrium does, only the Endometriosis tissue has no way of exiting the body- it just hang

Aim for the Stars

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For as long as I can remember, I have been intensely fond of reading, a lover of literature and a collector of books, both fiction and non-fiction.  This love affair I believe was partly borne of my difficult upbringing.  Books became my solace and my comfort in times of torment; a means of escape from a haunted reality...   When I wasn't reading, while most kids were preoccupied with the latest toys, I was pretending to be a librarian with a stack of books and a pen to scan the make-believe bar codes.  Does anybody else remember the old school scanner from the Toowoomba City Library that looked like a pen?!  I loved that thing!   Aside from my librarian play, I often dreamed of becoming a famous writer some day.  I knew if I was to be handed an unconditional wish that would enable me to be made into absolutely anything in the world, I would choose to be an author. ~     In 2005 I completed the first term of Year 11 before terminating my high school education at the age of 16.  My

In My Eyes: a journey through the years

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Written on 17th March, 2018 In My Eyes: a journey through the years 5 years ago you were such a smart baby, So advanced in milestones, it amazed us daily! There were many lows but many more highs, You were perfect, in my eyes. 4 years ago you spoke in language well beyond your years, But owing to your naughtiness, I shed so many tears. No matter how dark the nights grew, the sun would always rise, It was all part of our journey and you were perfect, in my eyes. 3 years ago, your IQ rapidly grew, You'd go far in life, this we all knew. Why such poor behaviour, you were evidently wise, Despite my exhaustion, you were perfect, in my eyes. 2 years ago I thought, "I'm not sure I can do this any more..." "This kid is so smart, it has to be my parenting that's poor." Through the tears, the heartache and all the tough stuff, I loved you so much but was that really enough?! 1 year ago we learnt you have ADHD, Finally, I knew that it wasn't just me. You are gi

The First Time

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The first time stays with you; cemented in the crevices of your mind and plastered to the backs of your eyelids. Sometimes it's beneath darker shadows, or obscured with bright rays of sunlight. But it's always there.  The click of the doors locking reverberated throughout the building in time with the beating of my heart. That click continues its cursed echo in my mind even today.  You never forget the first time.   ~ It was 2007, I was 18 years old, and  my first involuntary treatment order was enforced (Mental Health Act 2000)  . Shame cloaked me and claustrophobia choked the air from my lungs as I realised I was, for lack of a better word, imprisoned; trapped against my will. All I wanted was to go home, but where was home?  I no longer knew. ~ " Bipolar robs you of that which is you. It can take from you the very core of your being and replace it with something that is completely opposite of who and what you truly are. Because my bipolar went untreated

The Day the Virus Came

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We will never forget the year 2020.Countries shut down, children were pulled from schools, the stock market crashed, and unemployment hit a record high of 14.7%, the highest it has been since 1948 (Thompson 2020).  With this new world, birthed by a foreign virus, so too, came a surge in mental health and domestic violence crises. The global death toll is currently at 382,412 (Worldometer 3 June 2020) but the true statistics are likely much higher. The forgotten numbers are found in suicides of isolated depression sufferers, murdered children and partners forcibly quarantined in violent homes, and people with chronic illnesses, too afraid to attend critical medical appointments for fear of contracting the deadly Coronavirus.  Additionally, drug overdoses from relapses that may never have occurred had the addicts had access to their support networks and meetings, would further inflate the tally. Indeed, we will never forget the year 2020; the year the COVID-19 pandemic came.

What my Gender-Nonconforming Son is Teaching me, as I Teach the World About Him

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Yes, my son is gender-nonconforming and no, that probably doesn't mean what you think it means. But in a world where terms such as, transgender, gender-neutral, non-binary and gender-fluid are more commonplace than ever before, it's easy to see how confusion occurs. Contrary to popular belief, gender-nonconforming is defined as, "Denoting or relating to a person whose behaviour or appearance does not conform to prevailing cultural and social expectations about what is a appropriate to their gender." (Oxford University Press 2019)  In Australian culture, one example of this is males who like to wear dresses, skirts, heels, and/or makeup. Considering this definition, allow me to list some of my own personal synonyms for the term gender-nonconforming: bold, confident, unique, fearless, authentic, and empowered. This term has a lot less to do with sexual orientation, or even gender, and a lot more to do with being courageous enough to do what makes one ha

From the Bottom of the Bathroom Floor

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It’s been months since I last blogged.   I’ve been so caught up with my university studies and home schooling my kids in this strange new Corona World. In fact, I probably should be working on an essay right now but I just needed to write freely today; to express what is in my heart and on my mind right now.  So come, buckle up, and step into the darkest corners of my mind with me. Below I have copied and pasted a dated e-journal entry.   I wrote it in November last year during the most crippling low I have experienced since I was pregnant with my now almost 6-year-old daughter.   What is a low you ask?   It is a depressive episode.   You see, I suffer from Bipolar Disorder, Type 2 (BPII), differentiated from Type 1 by significantly more lows than highs.   The rare highs of BPII, referred to as  hypomanic episodes do not reach the full-blown mania and psychosis commonly associated with Bipolar Disorder, Type 1 (BPI) and could instead be more accurately described as an abn