I’ve been going through some old messages and notes from 2019 recently. It’s amazing how much you can forget about a particular period of your life, only to have it all come flooding back when you start piecing things together. Some memories are wonderful, others not so much, and this is unfortunately one of the latter.

In December 2018, my relationship ended. At the time, I was living in Newcastle and studying at the University of Newcastle. Things weren’t perfect, but I had somewhere to live, animals I adored, and a reasonably clear idea of where I wanted my life to go. Then January 2019 happened.

The household arrangements changed, and the person I’d been living with was asked to leave. I understood that circumstances had changed and that the people who owned the house wanted their space back. Fair enough. It was their home, after all. What I struggled with was how everything unfolded afterwards.

From the moment that happened, I knew my own time there was probably limited. I didn’t expect to last another six to nine months. The writing was on the wall, even if nobody had explicitly told me to leave. I tried to keep things amicable, offering to change bedrooms, helping with moving arrangements, looking after the dog and generally trying to make myself as little trouble as possible. There were still friendly conversations, shared meals and plenty of ordinary moments, but underneath all of that, I no longer felt particularly secure. It’s a strange feeling, living somewhere you’ve been welcomed for years, suddenly wondering how much longer that welcome will last.

The Birds

Anyone who knows me knows I have a soft spot for animals, birds in particular. I’d raised mine from a young age, and they had their own personalities, little routines and all the peculiar behaviours that make birds such wonderful companions. They were part of my everyday life, and I’d become incredibly attached to them.

Unfortunately, the birds had become an issue within the household, and I agreed to find them new homes. I listed them for sale, but the money wasn’t really the point. Putting a price on them was my attempt to find someone who genuinely wanted them and was prepared to take responsibility for their care. It wasn’t a foolproof method, obviously. Someone paying for an animal doesn’t automatically make them a responsible owner, but giving them away for nothing worried me even more.

I didn’t want someone picking them up simply because they were free, without appreciating the commitment involved. I wanted to take my time, find the right people, and know that the birds would be looked after. Unfortunately, time wasn’t something I had much of.

10th March 2019

By March, the living situation had become something I no longer felt able to manage. On the 10th of March 2019, I left. Nobody physically threw me out that day. I made the decision because I no longer felt comfortable remaining there. The trust I’d previously had in the arrangement was gone, and I couldn’t see that changing.

I ended up at a pet-friendly hotel near the University of Newcastle’s Callaghan campus, spending far too much on temporary accommodation. Pretty much the last of my savings. Not exactly how I’d imagined my university years going! With my circumstances becoming increasingly difficult, I had to make one of the decisions I still regret. I gave the birds away for nothing, the very thing I’d been trying to avoid.

I don’t know whether the people who took them fully appreciated what they were getting, although they seemed nice enough. I hope the birds are still loved and cared for today, and that they’ve had the lives they deserve. What bothers me is that I never wanted to be in a position where desperation dictated what happened to animals I’d raised and loved. I’d been trying to do the responsible thing by finding suitable homes for them, but in the end, circumstances overtook those intentions.

I still miss those birds.

And Then There Was University

The accommodation problems were only part of the story. I’d spent years studying at the University of Newcastle, trying to build something worthwhile for my future. University wasn’t always easy for me, but it mattered, and I wanted to finish what I’d started. Instead, I found myself needing to return to Sydney to work for a boss I wasn’t particularly fond of then, and still aren’t especially fond of now.

I needed an income. The cost of accommodation, the uncertainty surrounding where I would live, and the practicalities of keeping everything together had become too much. My degree was left unfinished, and the future I’d been working towards suddenly looked rather different.

I don’t pretend that one disagreement was responsible for every difficulty I faced. Life is considerably more complicated than that. But the events of early 2019 contributed to circumstances that changed the direction of my life. Sometimes people think moving house is just that. You pack your belongings, find somewhere else and carry on. Unfortunately, when your housing, finances, education and personal circumstances are all connected, losing stability in one area can affect everything else. For me, that’s exactly what happened.

Looking Back

The hardest part of revisiting this period isn’t necessarily the money or even leaving Newcastle. It’s remembering how much trust I once placed in people who had been part of my life for many years. I don’t want to pretend that the kindness I received before 2019 never happened. It did, and I remain grateful for it, but the way things ended changed how I understood those relationships.

I spent a long time wondering whether I’d done something wrong, whether I could have handled things differently, or whether a little more patience might have changed the outcome. Perhaps some things could have been different. I’ll never know. What I do know is that I tried to cooperate, and I eventually reached a point where leaving seemed like the only reasonable option available to me.

It’s possible for someone to have been kind to you for years and still hurt you deeply. Both things can be true, and sometimes accepting that is harder than simply deciding someone was never a good friend in the first place.

The Things We Don’t Get Back

My mother has since died, and losing her has changed the way I look at the past. There are conversations I can never have again, moments I can never revisit, and years I can never reclaim. Her death is a separate loss from what happened in Newcastle, but it has made me think more carefully about how easily parts of our lives disappear.

I can’t go back to 2019 and finish that chapter the way I’d planned. I can’t recreate the circumstances that allowed me to study, and I can’t bring back the birds I raised from youngsters. I can build new things, of course. I’ve done plenty of that over the years, and anyone who’s followed this website knows I’m reasonably good at finding another project to keep myself occupied! But starting something new doesn’t necessarily make the old losses disappear.

I held off writing about all this for years because I wasn’t sure what good it would do. Perhaps I hoped the memories would become less important with time. Some have, others haven’t, and I think that’s okay. This isn’t an attempt to settle an old argument or encourage anyone to take sides. It’s simply a part of my history that I’ve never properly written about.

McRetro.net has been around since February 2012, documenting all sorts of things I’ve done, collected, repaired, broken and occasionally managed to put back together. It seems only appropriate that some of the less enjoyable parts of my life get documented too. Not everything in life comes with a successful repair, or a satisfying conclusion.

If there’s one thing I’ve taken away from revisiting 2019, it’s that a little compassion can make an enormous difference when someone is going through a difficult time. I didn’t expect anyone to solve all my problems. I didn’t expect free accommodation forever, or for circumstances never to change. I just wish things had ended with a little more kindness.

And if, by some chance, the people who took my birds all those years ago ever read this, I hope they’re doing well. I hope the birds have had wonderful lives, and that they’ve been given all the attention and affection they deserve.

I really did love those little creatures.