Memories: 24 April 2023

24 April 2024

A lovely sunny day. Charley played in the garden. I spent an hour or so, cutting down large clumps of buffalo grass with my pruning shears and putting them in the Otto bin. Charley kept me company under the jade tree as I worked.

My lips are still blue and I am very fatigued…but it’s been this way for two decades so I just keep going.

I had a friend request from “Joseph Momoa” which was such an obvious scammer that I played with them for a short while. As if the real Jason Momoa would genuinely friend me on FB. Hilarious. The scammer could barely write English so instant block and delete.

Now what should Mama T do with her evening? What magick shall she create? Lol!

24 April 2023

I just managed to solder this piece. So although upset I failed with the square piece I have remade another square setting so fingers crossed I don’t ruin it this time round. This oval piece flowed perfectly. Sometimes it just feels like a fluke! Lol. Square bezel Number two is pickling as we speak (write!)

24 April 2022

I didn’t go dancing last night as I felt exhausted after making silver balls all night. It was strange as I really wanted to go dancing but could not motivate to go have a shower, put on makeup, get dressed etc. It was raining and cold last night.

After I decided to stay home, I watched tv then went to bed around 11 pm and insanely could not settle to sleep as part of me really wanted to be out dancing, out in the world. But my body was tired so I had to tell my wild spirit that she has to wait until next weekend as it’s not safe to flog a dead horse (Mustang Kwe!) I can no longer push myself as I know my body has its limits. Awwww.

But if I can summon the energy and the cohones there will be dancing next week!

It’s Sunday morning and I am still in bed, feeling a tad lonely. But time to get up and greet the day. Shower. Make my life beautiful.

The “memories” of my childhood neighbour put a dampener on my mood but hey, I shall shuck that hag off…all the hags associated with my mother, the traitors, the paedophiles, the bitches. …and bloody well rejoice in my life!

Strange little girls bear strange but beautiful fruits. We blossom and grow even in our distortions and brokenness. Always reaching for the light in spite of all the spite.

It’s been a strange few weeks finding out new friends were actually rabid fucking Nazis. Another grief I have had to recalibrate through my body! Yuck!

But…. I also have the most gorgeous powerful loving and righteous spirits surrounding me.

I turn like a sunflower in the sun and shine bright for only good kind people. The rest can wallow in their own hatred, sadism and darkness. Find your vibe, find your tribe! My time was wasted on those evil ones. Such is life!

…

24 April 2021

Lots of Penny drops this morning. Lots of encouragement from the spirit world. They reminded me how I was on direct orders to walk into that secondhand shop and how a pair of 9ct cuff links were practically forced onto me to buy.

That was on 23 January! At the time I was greatly bemused. They were very cheap so I bought them, even though I had no use for cufflinks I decided I could turn them into earrings or in dark moments of deep poverty sell them again as scrap gold.

Then it hit me this morning...the gods gifted me those cufflinks as I now realise I can learn casting and turn all my broken or odd pieces of gold and /or silver into a charm or something. Sweet!

Pity poverty divested me of so much gold in the past 12 years but those cufflinks being “forced” on me were a sign...I am about to find my nîche and the wealth that was raped from me by my filthy family is going to flow back to me exponentially. (To the power of ten!)

I don’t dare assume it’s material wealth. Although that would be most welcome in my life!!! But much of it is spiritual gold that cannot be stolen/raped/traded or sold. I can gift it freely and the more I gift it the more it enriches my soul like the proverbial eternally replenishing cornucopia.

It’s a pity my cptsd makes striving to achieve wealth or success so fucking agonising. Just learning how to make something out of a fork was an agony.

But.....I will get better as I progress. I will take delight in my creations and I will reap great joy and satisfaction from them. 🙂

Update 2022: Hmmm, interestingly, just after I woke up this morning, I had an inspiration telling me to melt down those rose gold cufflinks and make hearts from them. I might give it a go later. My silver balls did not turn out great so I am a bit afraid of ruining gold. But if I can transmute them into hearts then I could possibly drill holes through them and wear them as earrings as I don’t wear cufflinks lmao!

Then this memory came up…so I guess the gods think it’s time I practised with the small amount of scrap gold I have.

I have been watching “Russian Dolls” where Nadia wears the last remaining krugerrand left after a conman stole her family stash of krugerands, with some bemusement. Buck The Schmuck also stole my mother’s Krugerand gifted to her by her half-brother in Germany.

The krugerand was a tad symbolic as it has a gazelle on the front of it and Gisela means “gazelle”. Mum told me her half brother Hans Patula had a stack of them and flicked one at her, off the top of the stack like it was nothing, so she fought him about it and threw it back him as how dare he insult her when she was not poor?!

I told her it was just typical school boy behaviour, showing off and he probably thought it was a sign of affection and who the hell rejects a $15K krugerrand like some dickhead?! But she said she eventually accepted it after telling him off for insulting her.

Some day I will buy myself another one. (Just for kicks…as it will represent me gaining back my power and wealth from that awful evil perverted family). I mean, no one actually needs gold bullion unless there is a war, Darlinks! 😉 …ohhh wait…shit!

….

24 April 2020

I just had cheesecake for breakfast. Cos I can. I gobbled it down while facebooking (editing my writings!), sipping tea and quietly observing the noisy workmen with their noisy trucks and machinery.

Charlie is happy to be outside. I am happy to be alive. The dog is happy too. Life is good!

I have a debrief with my psychiatrist at 3 pm then Ecstatic dance at 6:30pm.

My new Covid19 routine. Zest for life, even in isolation.

…

Back in bed. I got seized by a sudden feeling of weakness (low blood pressure?) and stomach pain. (Not the cheesecake although it probably wasn’t such a good idea!)

I am constantly fatigued. So I might as well rest. Stop trying to prove something to myself.

Yesterday I tripped over a long power cord that I was using to charge my iPhone in the garden (while listening to My Alien Life). I badly grazed my right big toe on the concrete path.

So I hope I am not developing another bout of septic arthritis as I feel quite weak. Toe is red but not hot. I will keep an eye on it. I don’t want to ever end up in any hospital again. They quite literally “kill” me. Systemic abuse. Enough already.

Psy sighs....I hate to admit this. It was the cheesecake. Lactose intolerance 😞

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Lots of noise across the road. They are unloading concrete. Grrr. This too shall pass.

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This morning I wrote about the lack of love and even more distressing..lack of respect I have experienced many many times in my life. Then I was struck down with a weird illness. Post traumatic stress syndrome or demonic/angelic smiting? No accidents in the universe.

Then just now I was gifted James Vukelich’s offering of the Ojibwe word of the day, reminding us that our earth is harmonising in this time of covid and trauma. A beautiful timely and healing reminder.

Thank you James. Thank you to the spirits/ancestors that love us. We are indeed of the Earth, manufactured by Her and ultimately destined to be claimed by Her.

I pray She gifts me a gentle passing into the next Dimension. But it is not for me to cut deals with the Holy One (Or Odin the All Father!)

But I am grateful for the post traumatic growth and exponential healing that meant I had a few good days recently.

I can see that my life still has beautiful potentialities even if my body won’t permit them. Such is life!

24 April 2019

…

My doctor says he feels sad for me that Dave is so approach-avoidant. He knew he would show up as I had been intuiting his “approach” for a month.

He thinks most of my poverty and mental health issues would simply go away if I found a stable safe loving partner - if I was happy in a relationship. But the danger would be that I sabotaged, out of feelings of not deserving Love, or out of fear that it would all go horribly wrong again. (With the long pattern of abuse/cheating/abandonment/betrayals).

I agreed that it is very likely that I would sabotage as I don’t know what real love feels like so I would not trust in it (the other person!)

I know one thing though. Dave in his weird way does feel some kind of Love for me or he would not still be coming to look at me after 5 years (and 2 months!)

So I don’t know what to do but keep striving to avoid making any contact and see what Dave does (if he really wants me then it’s up to him to let me know now).

24 April 2017

I've been watching Charlie fearlessly stalk Beauregard on the table, tantalising him into attack even though the dog is drooling. I had to separate them both, for my own mental health. The two creatures, fascinated with each other, longing to annihilate the existence of the other.

It made me think of how many times (millions perhaps) that I too tried (even just by my presence) to gain mastery over my psychopathic attackers, slanderers, attempted rapists, and so on ad nauseum. Yesterday's service was positively crawling with them. One stared at me maliciously. So I stared right back.

The malevolent cur contributed to the final destruction of my relationship with my youngest daughter. He has the utter chutzpah to eyeball me with contempt. Sick evil pervert. But I hold my own as unbeknownst to him, I have lovely friends in my community too.

People who are worth a thousand of him. His little henchwoman also glared at me balefully. Honestly I am so used to the abusers and shunning in that community that it is mostly like water off a duck's back.

I have done nothing wrong but honour my ancestors on a day that commemorated complete annihilation of 6 million Jews and 7 million other Rom, gays, political dissenters, Jehovah witnesses and pacifists. All went into the gas chambers or were shot on the edges of mass graves and the earth writhed with those still barely alive.

I remember them. Not just because of the Nazis that spawned such hatred but because I am a survivor of survivors of that heinous epoch in history.

One of the very Regime that murdered/tortured/starved and raped its way to obliteration, another a concentration camp survivor child molester who begrudged me my cup of tea and my existence under his roof because I would not let him rape me at 15. Nor at 9 years of age (already battle weary from escaping and fending off other paedophiles).

Cognitive dissonance, people. I helped that man die and let him lie to his hospital mates that he was my father. He was no father to me. Nor was my own biological father.

I tell you who came close to being a father. My three rabbis who defended me against such putrid ugliness that I should have killed myself but I will never let my abusers have my head on their wall as a fucking trophy.

Yesterday, unspoken, one stood beside me and davened. Coincidence? Perhaps. But I was grateful for the support. For the presence of a community leader unashamed to stand near me. The Tanya. The Pariah.

My crime? Speaking my truth and standing in it, a dripping bloodstained cloak of reckoning.

Great Spirit brought a sweet child to remind me that my Life has meaning. My life was to survive my childhood and my own adulthood and my actions were always to keep our children safe.

So the paedophile ring enablers dare to glare at me, to hope I will cower and fall away like a dust mote on a sunny day, irrelevant and uncounted until we survivors of abuse gather together and cover that Shulchan Aruch and demand a purification, a sanctification. I see you. I hear you. I know whom you stand before.

Shun me, vilify me. Nothing new under The Tanya's Sun. I might feel traumatised/depressed but I always always have Myself. And G-d.

To decent men and women everywhere. To Warriors of righteousness and courage. I salute you.

To mine enemies. The paedophiles and their enablers. The liars, traitors, deceivers. I curse you.

The sword of Damocles swings both ways. The clock is ticking as it melts into eternity. G-d (if He truly exists) has me firmly in His hands. He lifts me up on His shoulders and throws me back into the fray. Like a furious little bird I fly into the sturm und drang of my own fury. "You shall not Die but Live". Beloved One.

I begged for it to end but no end in sight. I cast the last of my biological demons down on the sands of King Island. But a thousand monsters stir and rise up against me. I am not afraid. Maybe next time you will find a way to kill me unlike the bully coward bastard Israeli lovers. One dead now. One should be dead. But here I am. Alive. Aware. Arise and Shine.

Blessèd Be the Wild ones, the free spirits, the fierce brave Psychedelic Dreamers, the children of the universe. Amen v' Selah.

I am so grateful to you, oh Holy One for bringing me back into my own Being, for breathing Life, Light and Love back into my desiccated desecrated Soul and for the redemption from mine enemies.

I pray for a peaceful prosperous Loving Life! So mote it be.

…

24 April 2016

Something big is about to happen. Seeing 11s all day. Really intensely. I've been seeing them for years now but when they synchronistically group together for several days I sit up and take notice!

I hope like hell it is nothing unpleasant like last time I was forced by fate into stepping up as a survivor to support another survivor only to be set up and threatened for 4 months with a defamation case.

I have also had intense anxiety for the past few days. Hopefully just lunacy from the powerful full moon energies. But what if it is another powerful intense shift in my life?

I pray that this time it will be a positive happy one. Frankly I can't cope with any more traumatic events or awfulness. Not that I am a fragile delicate flower but just that I am sick of being sick.

The universe blessed me the past few days with wonderful gifts (from Sally, Margaret and Jarrod and Lyn) so I will hope the signs from the universe are going to be super!

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I just went to Dominos and bought, and devoured an entire pizza. Man, I feel good. I didn't realise I was so hungry.

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24 April 2015

Heading out to casino. I look a million dollars but have no money. The universe loves me anyway.

Happy Oneg Shabbat! I have some stomping and twirling to do.

Manifest, manifest, manifest!

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I feel a little depressed. Time to shower off the dreck and scrub up beautiful and dance out my pain. Enough already. Time to fly!

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Been there done that! But my blood is still worth bottling (as my father used to say, sardonicly).

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Shabbat shalom, Y'all!

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I spoke to Biosecurity. They won't let me take custody of Ramon and Sookie unless I take over the clown business and can prove I am doing shows etc. Cost $1000. So I am screwed.

Crystal will either give them to a clown friend who will apply for the permit and take over the business or relinquish my grandkids to Grantham Rabbit Sanctuary where she got them.

Biosecurity prefers she takes them to Grantham to be rehomed in NSW as if a Queenslander takes them they might end up not keeping the permit up to date in which case the bunnies will be euthanaised.

It is all very insane. 2 pet desexed bunnies should be allowed to be transferred to a family member ie Me as long as I keep the permit paid.

It is not like I am anywhere near any farms in the middle of the city. I wouldn't let them loose either as they are beloved pets.

This govt is so fucked up. Seriously insane.

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Trying to decide if I am going out tonight. No money but that has never stopped me. Hmmm! I will see how I feel mood-wise later tonight. I have been a bit tetchy. I have slept all week so I will have the physical stamina. Hopefully I feel ok later.

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3.10 pm Awake at last. Penny is snuggling close to me with Mushu guarding my right side. There is much contented purring. Feeling loved and happy. Time to get up!

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2.29 am. Time to schluff. Laila Tov!

24 April 2014

I am a Wolf Woman! I enjoy a good Howling at every Full Moon :-). I was also raised by wild mad narcissist sociopaths. Trust me...I speak “wolf” and manage madness rather well. I had to, to survive.

24 April 2011

Muriel Hoedemaeckers: (referring to Suzy Van Der Kwast) (both dead now)

“Haven't spoken to the old bag for 15 years.As I'm in the book the author sent me a copy.Happy Easter.”

Me: Happy Easter, Muriel. Well the old bag still visits my dreams quite frequently. Although I remember her with some fondness as she used to like to drag me outta bed on a Saturday or sunday when some arse didn't show up for work, she would send Tom to pick me up in his BMW and then she'd yell at me for not wearing makeup. (I was too tired to be bothered to slap on the war paint and at 15/16 years of age, I don't think I really needed that crap anyway lol).

I didn't mind working at Suzy's, except when Suzy herself used to scream at me. (Reminded me too much of Gisela! I was one of the few staff members who could handle it because I'd grown up with Screaming Mimis myself!) She treated me very well apart from that.

It all went to shit when Margaret Verhoeven got some sort of major pet hate for me. At least with Suzy, you knew where you stood. No underhanded malicious backstabbing on her part. I wonder what Jarmilla is doing now. She used to invite Mum and me to her home for lunch occasionally. I still miss Raima and Monica. They were great women.

Muriel: send me your e-mail address.

Update 2022: I gave Muriel my email address although she in turn had discredited me and slandered me to Buck the schmuck and my evil toxic mother although I had had no idea she was friends with them both. So I had ended up cutting ties to her as it was too distressing. Muriel died a few years after this message.

Suzy might have been an old bag in her eyes but at least she had been loyal and loving to me. Unlike those bastards. Choose your enemies wisely. Some are just unworthy cuntish cunts!

Her son Philip hand-delivered Suzy’s book to me so I could read it. It was a kind of third-handed catharsis I suppose. Ultimately I cut ties to him also as he had some weird inappropriate fantasy about me.

I have not forgotten that shortly after her death it was Suzy who visited me in a dream to say “goodbye”. I read her book and was astonished and upset to discover that she too, had been a survivor of csa, so she understood my suffering and valued me for my courage to survive.

Those other sadists….well they can dance in their small corner of hell. Muriel referred to me as a child as “that strange little girl” so frankly I know they ALL knew and did nothing to protect me. Dirty evil people.

So where was I? ….oh yes…Dreaming of turning cufflinks to gold hearts. I might just do that later!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons