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Memories: 19 and 20 May 2022

by Tanya Arons 3 months ago in humanity · updated 3 months ago
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The four directions…which end is up? …not my end…yet. Lots of beauty still to co-create and full vibrancy to express. Time to dance!

20 May 2020 Mt Cootha Lookoutt

20 May 2022

Reviewing my memories, I am struck by how far I have come in 38 years. A long hard agonised road. A miracle that I even survived so many attempts on my life. The physical, the emotional and even the demonic destruction wrought by knaves.

Yesterday I had a strange kind of stoicism, an equanimity tinged by a kind of bathos. It’s like my whole body was somatising old trauma memories and the grief of losing Harry Arons all those years ago. I rarely think about him now but the 18th May was his Yahrzeit so he was with me in thought all day.

A few days ago I found myself ruminating about my nephew Mark Cohen. It had been lovely to reconnect with him in 2019 but we are estranged again.

I was reminded of him telling me in all sincerity that he had loved me so much as a little boy (he was 9 years old when I married his uncle, myself only a month older than 19) as I had been so nurturing to him and that when I migrated to Brisbane four years later he cried for months as he felt bereft and abandoned and left alone with his awful callow unsupportive parents.

My heart bled as I know how that feels. To have idealised another human as some kind of protector or saviour only to discover that I too was discarded or left behind or simply forgotten in the hustle and the hurdy gurdy of life.

I more than anyone understands the grief of a child who craved love, support and genuine care only to have that ripped away, time and again.

I thought about reaching out to him again but it seems inappropriate somehow.

I can’t be there for him. Some days I still struggle to be there for/with my self. So I send him love and fortitude.

He was not the only person to tell me they felt utterly shattered when I left NZ and grieved my departure for many months. I must have made some kind of big impression on people in my teenage years and early 20s. Astonishing!

Me…who even at that time was just emotionally treading water with an already defunct marriage and two small babies.

Fuck! What a nightmare…what a curse. But I have been loved even if only from great distances, or lateral squarings off as not many could handle a closer connection with me. Hell, even some of the worst of my enemies (eg David Davidson) would not leave this mortal coil without a very determined long goodbye. A haunting or a hunting from the Void!

Well Mama T is a zombie no more. She is a fully fleshed out cognisant living entity with so much love yet to give in spite of her residual scars and trauma issues. She is full of Joie de Vivre and a twinkle in her own eyes that she developed with wry mirth and circumspection at all the two bit players in her life.

She is in constant communion with the gods now. Old age is not for sissies. Writing this at 4:25 am because my Frankenstein bladder demanded release and my sleep deprived brain had to comply.

Mama T is a walking automaton most days but the lights are on and I am home. I see what I need to see. I live in harmony with what is/was/and always shall be and sometimes I laugh at all the ghastly horror and regurgitated spiritual lessons that hit me like a flying fish in turgid seas.

Love has found me. I have found Love and it has been both a blessing and a curse, a hope, a desolation and a constant respiration. Holding my heart together after every rebound, every attack and still beating its weird little cosmic song for my long lost beloved ones.

The ones who died, the ones who failed to love me in a healthy caring way, the ones who turned love to ash and yet from those ashes sent forth the rose of my new blossoming burgeoning creative self.


Back to sleep I go. Sayonara sweethearts. Love everyone and everything but love for real. Suffer no fools or fakes. The heart heals but it takes eons. It bears strange fruits and even stranger calibrations.

I prayed for healing. I prayed for truest deepest love. It is coming in perfect timing and perfect alignment. Faith and that freckled digit dodger of fate have had their fun. Time to get serious. Life is slowly slipping me by.

Good morning! I love you. I see you. I hold space for you.

20 May 2020

I was beset by an intense emotional heaviness yesterday. This morning my memories of my youthful folly.

How life has evolved since then! I can even taste occasional happiness. Mixed with Victory. It took 36 years. To Become. I am glad I made it. I never thought I would see this day.

Crystal is visiting me this afternoon. A treat! So I need to get out of bed and get ready!

I spent some time late last night updating details on Harry and Hilda’s ancestry. I honour their memory as the grandparents of my daughters even as I acknowledge the harm done to me by their son. It’s not all his fault. He lacked capacity and I lacked the will to be a submissive ground down Victim. Totally unsuited to each other. Also he truly slavishly served as my mother’s henchman. Sick evil shit.

But I got two daughters out of that fucking travesty and one still strives to maintain some sort of relationship with me so that is a positive.

I wasted my youth and my 30s and 40s on Abusers. But somehow along the way I got Me back. A miracle.

20 May 2017

I really overdid things yesterday. Oh my! I wish I had power surges of energy that last most of the day and night more often but the price is too hefty. Mama T gotta accept she is not able to sustain that.

I had a nice night dancing with Karen and Tichsia. I came home at 3 am, took a hot bath, ate some yoghurt and hot tea, took my Seretide puffer and that upset my delicate little flower of a stomach. I was quite ill. So hit the hay and passed out.

Now awake at 11.31 am, dressed, let chooks out, Charlie on back table.

Ready for whatever life's adventures have in store for me again. Sick or not, The Tanya Tempest must Roll on.

At least the sun is shining again. They forecast 3 days of rain. Yesterday drizzled all day but not too much. I knew it was baloney as the ants were not moving house to higher ground.

I am glad Townsville finally got wet!!

20 May 2014

9.40 pm just got woken up by a phone call from Sydney. Some drunk woman saying "Hello World" then she hung up. She sounded a tad like my sister.

Please tell me she is not visiting Heidi in Sydney and prank calling me. That would be just sick shit. Lmao. Hopefully my foggy brain that is utterly exhausted misheard the voice.

Hello World!!! Indeed! I am going to get up, pee, and heat up some soup. I’m starving!

My beautiful daughter Crystal Arons 20 May 2014

Harry Arons (Herschel) Zvi Hirsch ben Aaron, in his youth

So still not asleep, 6.07 am. Car goes in at midday. Queen of Sabotage here! Oh well, 50 mgs of Seroquel should do it. Then I will have to hope I wake up! I am hungry too. Maybe I should just get up and make semolina pudding. Stodge might make me soporific.

30 years ago today I got married for the first and only time. It wasn't a very joyous day. My father in law had died 2 nights before. We were all very sad and traumatised from his quick demise with stomach and bowel cancer.

I had grown to love the old man. He was and still is, more of a man than his son. He taught me hebrew prayers and blessings in his strongly accented Ashkenazi with his Polish accent. He told me stories about his childhood in Baranovich.

He was high on morphine for the last 4 weeks of his life and he flirted with my german mother, telling her stories about his kids in Yiddish which she managed to understand well, somehow.

My mother in law Hilda got jealous and threw us out but it was funny as I had never seen Harry so happy and animated as when he talked to my mother in Yiddish. My mother had a way of bringing even dying men back to nostalgic life. I had a fight with my fiance at the time as my mother in law had lied and said we were disturbing Harry.

Hilda insisted we get married according to plan as it was what Harry wanted. I had dressed in my wedding gown a week or so before so he could see me in it and I was a bit perturbed when he said "it's a lovely dress but pity it's not green!" His favourite colour. So I promised there would be plenty of green in the bouquet and he smiled and nodded, satisfied with that.

I promised I would give him Jewish grandchildren and he was both relieved and delighted. It is a great shame he did not live to see his beautiful granddaughters. Especially Jasmine who looks so much like him and Crystal who at times, looks eerily like Hilda.

Anyway 30 years has gone like a blink in the eye. I have endured so much suffering at the hands of my former husband, his sister and brother in law, and my own family. All I have left of that original core family is Crystal.

Harry thought I was someone special as I was intelligent, courageous and determined. I think I was the only member of that family, new or old to have stood up to him and he loved me and respected me for it. I think he would have been proud of my efforts to keep my vow to him, and raise the girls Jewish.

It wasn't easy, after the divorce with no money to educate them at Sinai College and I had to turn to friends for help, without whom, I could not have kept the car registered to drive the kids to school each day. A 40 minute round trip to Burbank and back, twice daily.

Those were very fraught, hard times made harder by so much maliciousness on several fronts that I had a breakdown (the first of several) and in many ways have never fully recovered.

So I will never regret leaving that marriage, or my former family and it is sad that I never found a real love partner again.

I know Harry would have wanted the best for me and his granddaughters. I think deep down he knew I was too strong and smart for his son. In the hospital, before he died he bought me a lovely perfume for my 19th birthday and his eyes sparkled with delight when I said how much I loved it. I have never been able to bring such simple joy to a man's eyes, not then and not ever since.

Well, after men trying to kill or destroy me for the next 30 years it is hard to trust the sparkles in their eyes.

I hope one day a man will love me with such kindness, respect and adoration as my father in law did. He was a wonderful 'father' to me, unlike my own father, de facto step-father, and godfather who were all such creeps.

Men have come and gone in my life and I am sure many more will come to tease and tantalise and then abandon me but Harry. He was a rare breed. A real man.

20 May 2012

My former Wedding Anniversary today. 28 years ago. So much for the better from that determined but naive young woman of 19. Married into a family of Sociopaths almost Wicked enough to be a Match for my own Sociopathic narcissist mother. I was basically out of the Frying pan and back into the fire.

My first regret... Not leaving earlier when Micheal let his brother in law Jacques attack me in my newborn daughter's Nursery, and not cutting permanent ties to my rotten mother when she threw me down the stairs two weeks before my wedding. Being a good kind decent daughter and one-time wife has brought me no good. None at all.

19 May 2022

Watching “Love on the Spectrum” on Netflix. I am feeling slightly awkward that I too have never had a proper relationship or dated successfully in decades. I don’t even have autism. So I can attribute my lack of socialisation in neurotypical ways to my complex ptsd and the murderous cunts I attracted to myself for years. Psy sighs.

I ponder if I should be brave and attempt dating again. But can I sustain it? The actual dates: without getting the heebie jeebies or rolling my eyes or getting weirded out?

I had a debrief with my psych yesterday and he reminded me that after my suicide attempt in 2015 I stated bluntly that I simply cannot bear any more ugliness. That I was Done! There had been soooo much vicious ugliness.

So he wishes for me that I continue to create beauty in my life, with my art and my love for life and this planet, in spite of all the horror and ugliness.

That I invite love back into my life one day. Arrghhh how many more decades of therapy will that take? It’s a rhetorical question. If the right person arrives in my life I will know. No more cruel vapid sadomasochistic games. No more ugliness.

Update: integrity is everything and so is gratitude. So after my fair bloody bollocking about the housing commission maintenance call centre argumentative insane creature!

This is the result! A lovely new mixmaster installed by a lovely Scottish plumber (thank you to my ancestors for getting things fixed…also my infamous Pictish temper!)

The kitchen cupboard door was fixed on Monday but the cabinet maker told me that it’s still dodgy so he will be replacing the door. (As I stated needed doing several years prior).

So I am satisfied and contented with my lot as it was dangerous and insane-making having the broken door (which fell down and nearly crushed Bobo’s skull!) and the non-usable mixmaster.

So thank you Queensland government! Cheers :-)

New mixmaster 19 May 2022

19 May 2020

Comment from 19 May 2020 on a video I made.

Correction: Cees was my paedophile de facto stepfather (of 23 years until his death)

Trevor Singh was my paedophile Godfather. (really it makes no real difference as they both had strong but perverted influences on my life which affected every aspect of my adult life. In particular forming safe trustworthy relationships with men.

I have had to be my own man and own woman, own mother and own father longer than I can remember (at a time in my early childhood when I was surrounded by 4 father figures and two “mummies”).

My psychiatrist made a valid point in therapy a few weeks ago: I should not ever trust in women either after the number that my own mother, half sister and later in life, female friends did on me.

But life is all about finding your tribe and making mistakes and trusting often the wrong people as we can’t possibly predict with any sort of accuracy how monstrous people can or will get but now I trust my own inner “red flags”. Abuse starts off with tiny infractions.

Almost trivial. But it soon conflagrates into immense horror if you are not awake to it. The stuff you brush aside or slip third base sooner or later burns down your home and destroys your life. Literally and figuratively.

Last night while going through stuff I found three love letters from Cees to my mother. I have offered them to Crystal to read in case she wants to keep them. Otherwise I will burn them. I had to laugh at how his stingy personality shone through.

I woke up with a cough. I know it’s not covid but it’s gonna be a drag with full blown asthma having every paranoid maniac thinking I have covid. Just as well Crystal made me a mask.

19 May 2019

11:11 am. I had a great night last night with my gorgeous friends. Now utterly exhausted but content with my lot.

Only fly in my ointment is Scummo and the Liberals were voted back in. Australia...what has become of you. Courting Nazis and abusers and climate destroyers like this. Harrowing!

But I will continue my life as normal until the inevitable revolution. Mama T will not go quietly in to a hell that you all permitted. Naturally...🙂.

I voted Greens for the first time in my life. That is how passionate I am about not voting in the corrupt earth destroyers and violators of women’s rights. But now we are in the thick of the Handmaids Tale and 1984! Terrifying.

See you on the flip side I guess.

19 May 2017

Busy day. I washed all the window tracks. Did the dishes. Took down the kitchen window and washed it too. Still have lots of furniture to wash down (too dirty for dusting lol) but made a lot of progress.

I even fixed my hoop petticoat that has been lying around for months. I can wear my crinoline style evening skirt again now the petticoat is back in order.

I hung up the curtains properly that hide the hats/bags and assorted stuff on the cupboard in the spare room. Just need to cut them shorter and hem them.

Little annoying jobs that have been staring at me for several years. Not sure about cutting the curtains short as they actually belong to Crystal. So might just leave them as they are. But it looks much nicer now they are hung properly.

Oh oh and ohhh it is such a nice feeling to actually have clean floors!!!

I got up on a chair and cleaned the metal lampshades and cleaned the suncatchers as well.

My back has been hurting all day which I presume is due to the wet weather ie rheumatism/arthritis but I have had a nice cool wet day to get stuff done.

I hung up one of my mother's tapestries last night. It looks nice too.

I need to buy 2 wooden blinds for the front living room. I might check out op shops as sometimes they have them but they are really wide windows. So might be hard to get the right size.

Hmmm. Or I can string up some old blankets as winter is coming and the windows are dark and ominous at night now. Never bothered me during summer for some reason but yes, it will behoove me to keep what heat I put on, in the house not going out the window.

19 May 2014

Crystal invited me to celebrate her closing night of the play with her. She was tipsy so she finally agreed to meet me at Irish Murphy's. When I got there she was merrily chatting to some Americans. So I danced and let her have fun with her fellow actress, Jane and their new friends.

Then when the pub closed Crystal and I went to the casino. There she met a lovely Irish Plumber from Belfast who jokingly offered to be the "father of my grandchildren" when I bemoaned the fact that I am a grandmother to my precious Rabbit, Ramon.

I thought that was very sweet of him. A young man not put off by mad potential mothers in law and their desire for human progeny.

I slept at Crystal's place. We went to bed at 5 am. Had 6 hours sleep. Now heading home to feed animals and get ready for hairdresser.

Tomorrow the car gets serviced then I am back to broke. Sliding third base through life as usual. Gritty but fun!

I was talking in my sleep and trying to climb the wall. Crystal woke me up and we both laughed. It was awesome.

19 May 2010

0.886 gms of years of dross, ugliness and slander perpetuated by my mother and Buck Scherer posted to my lawyer yesterday. So glad to get that evilness out of my house and hope my lawyer can make sense of it all (cos I don't think I will ever come to terms with it myself).

The scary thing is I have plenty more documentation still here. Looking forward to making compost out of it one day!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons


About the author

Tanya Arons

I write about my life experiences. I write about complex ptsd, the agonies, the angst and my post traumatic growth. About Beauty, Truth and Honour and little vignettes of comfort from the spirits that love me: living and dead. I also Dance!

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