Memories: 12 August 2023

12 August 2023

Gratitude to my Angels, my beautiful earthangel friends and the gods. You are so generous and loving to me. May all the gods bless you always for your sweetness and kindness to me. Much much Love!

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This arvo I visited the Anderson Family. I had lots of cuddles with Rosie who seemed a bit sad today. I think she finally realised I am not bringing Bobo anymore. Or his energy has finally left me.

Little Susie brushed and styled my hair. So adorable! I encouraged them to read stories from actual paperbooks. One was about faeries.

Little Evie’s birthday is coming up so I might try to make her a faery door. They set about making little fairy houses out of rocks they had in their garden and then sprinkled them with flower petals. It was delightful.

I commented that their ancient Celtic (Scottish!) ancestry was shining through as the little round rocks were positioned like dolmans or monoliths. Very clever little girls!

I am so grateful to be surrounded by such immense love as has been shown me in recent days. You are all so special to me and thank you for tolerating my weird wonderful witchy mystical musings!

I love you!

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Watching “Painkillers” on Netflix. Horrifying. It’s about how Big Pharma marketed Oxicontin to the population. Evil.

12 August 2021

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I just spoke to Conrad Henderson in NZ who makes the most stunning jewellery out of kauri gum. I have been admiring his creations for a while now.

“Lost inspirations carving and jewellery” on Facebook. Just stunning work!

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12 August 2020

Busy day. I spent most of the day sanding the pink marble table. Still not finished....argggghhhhhhh. I got myself a nice sunburn too.

I also raked up the bamboo leaves., did a little bit of pruning in the garden: the grapevine that never fruits and the blueberry bush. I watered the new seedlings of beans, peas and corn.

Then my psych called me for my debrief which confused me as it usually happens on Friday. He reminded me to remain in my own truth and not to give too much of myself away when I meet new people...hold back until I know they are safe.

He worries about me being isolated. I told him I am doing well but working myself to death in some sort of frenzy with the sanding of the tabletop.

Then in the early evening I made pumpkin and potato soup with spring onions and chives from my garden. I then vacuumed the entire house.

I am so sore and so exhausted. Another hot bath will be in order methinks! But I have had another happy day! It’s been a good week so far which is a relief after all the recent horror.

12 August 2019

Another bad night of insomnia and woke up with a grinding pain in my left side of belly. No idea what that is. The pain is mild so might just be my gut. I rested on Saturday and Sunday as felt weak from dancing on Friday. My doctor wants me to exercise even more. She is out of her mind. 4 hours nearly kills me.

But anyway. Here I go. A lovely morning with sunshine. Gonna sit outside with a cup of tea and breathe happiness. Nothing much else to do but stay alive as long as possible.

I stayed in bed until 8:30 am even though I only slept from 4 am. My mind was constantly thrashing. I would doze and wake up all night long. I went to bed exhausted at 10:30 pm. Maybe my doctor is right. Instead of lying there like a deflated blancmange I should have run through the streets of Brisbane screaming “bring out your dead” until I blacked out.

Ridiculous. My former psychiatrist warned me this would happen one day.

That I would only require 3-4 hours of sleep. But I need to heal my body and I need lots of sleep to do it.

Oh well. Exercise....exercise. This is the result of exercise. Pain in my guts and a mind that is racing.

Psy sighs.

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No way we won’t pay. Not for your false prophets and false gods and false flags and human errors and desecration of your planet. Not for your addiction to myopic ignorance and navel gazing instead of star gazing.

Not for your seclusion and destruction and not for your hate. When we walk among you we see your Void which can never be filled as greed and lust and hunger to subvert all, is your only motivator.

We do not show ourselves as you monkey minds cannot be trusted with the love and machinery of the multiverses.

12 August 2018

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Another gloriously beautiful sunny day. Feeling happy in spite of my health issues.

Another day in Paradise. I need to get more natural yoghurt and some sauerkraut to try to bring balance to my acid levels in my gut.

Apparently yummy flavoured yoghurt is also forbidden. Gahhhhh!!!! But it’s worth trying to moderate some of my worst dietary mistakes as this constant weakness and frequent attacks are very very mortifying!

Genug old lady whining! What fabulous things can we manifest today? I had a lot of love from old friends last night and of course my beautiful Jenny. I overdid the dancing as usual so everything hurts but the exercise is good for me, over all.

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Feeling very grateful and content for the love of all my good friends. My life is wonderful because of you. Thank you. G-d bless you all!

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Last night there was a family group of Pacific Islanders from NZ, dancing next to me. I met one of the women. I told her I have lived alone for 23 years. She grinned and said she had lived alone for 25 years. I high-fived her.

I said “So like me you were naïve and married far too young!” She laughed and said “Yeah for sure”. We looked at each other and both yelled out “Freedom!”

“I love my freedom” she said. I nodded and smiled. “Me too!” It turns out she also went to my high school, Wellington Girls College! I found that very interesting.

Her brother was very flamboyant and was dancing around me and I told him I admired his beautiful shoes! They were red glitter with silver toe caps. I have never seen such exquisite men’s shoes! He handed me a Corona which was lovely. I was worried about being over the limit so I shared it with Jenny.

I had earlier in the evening been showing Jenny my wedding photos which was quite triggering. It was a tragic day as my father in law had died two nights before and I was distressed as my mother had turned up to shule in full blazing narcopathic glory and I had not really wanted her there as she had kicked me out of the house 2 weeks before the wedding which I was very upset about.

Then she turned up to my wedding like she had some entitlement to be there. (She didn’t!) Apart from being my mother she had contributed nothing to the wedding but had manipulated from the background). In fact she continued to abuse and manipulate me for the rest of her life.

Anyway, last night was beautiful and spiritual. Mama T is back in her own power (mojo...Mana) despite her health issues. Sometimes I have to step outside myself and watch the spiralling confluences lock together like the cogs in a wheel, never knowing how they will connect up in a distant or near future, or what immediate choices or profound impacts I may have recalibrated in my present moment.

That is how the magic happens. The mystery and the revelatory Surprises of the entire multiverses. I hope one day my life will make perfect sense and I will be at peace.

12 August 2017

4.17 am. Home. Feel shattered as I became exhausted and hyper vigilant after several jovial drunk men kept touching me. So I became enraged and knew it was time to go home.

Apart from that, I had a nice time dancing on my own spot until I almost went home early at 1 am as a creepy couple were hassling me to have my spot. I let them.

It was interesting when I came back after getting a coffee at the 7:11 to see the creepy couple in my spot but I just sat and rested my very sore back and drank a JD and calmly observed them from a distance.

I also bemusedly observed the giant vacuous slug of a nympho that pashes every male off in the livewire bar, work the room. It made me glad I am not her.

Horrible cheap woman. But she keeps staring at me and wanting my attention as I am powerful and of course, Untouchable. By choice!

So I don't even know why I bother going out. Really! It is such a waste of my time. I guess I live in a fantasy that there might be a few decent men there. (Apart from my Longterm casino friends who are completely platonic, of course). By now, after 7 years I must be the Resident Freak.

Some woman asked me if I have deodorant in my bag (random!) I gave her some ylang ylang oil to rub on herself. I put some on too. I warned her it was an aphrodisiac so expect trouble and we laughed.

Within 5 minutes men were surrounding her. I said "Incoming!!" And we both giggled. This was at 3 am so it got very busy with all the drunks kicked out of the pubs.

She was a bikie chick so she handled them well. But I got over-tired and needed to go home after a couple of blokes kept grabbing my arm (one I slapped off me as I was sitting, resting, looking at my iPhone).

The cheek of it. I am not there to entertain them like the slug who slobbers over their tonsils. Ugh! Anyway, it is kinda funny in a way, innit?!

The Tanya and her freak show foibles, waiting for Godot in an artificial superficial world. Because primarily, I don't fit in any world. Never have. Never will. But I like who I am. Even if it means eternal alienation.

The sea monkeys have my money, home and lovers. I have my integrity, my courage, my light and a few good true friends. Fewer by the day as I am Transitioning rapidly. I refuse to accept abuse. Of any kind.

I watched a movie about Ernest Hemingway who kept attempting suicide until he finally managed to shoot himself in his own home as he never felt truly loved. I hear you, Brother!

My time is nigh. But not tonight, Josephine. I am only hanging on in the vague mindlessly stupid hope that I might meet one of my grandchildren one day. Sad but true!

It is part of the human condition to want to witness the future blossom with your own progeny. A vanity and a folly.

Bottom line: no one really gave a shit about me. I have to live with that and die with it too. But all good. My dog is truly happy to see me. The cats, too. Charlie (the universe gifted me him as compensation) will kiss me in the morning.

Only spirits and animals love me unconditionally and with honour. The Tanya, The Chosen.

Todah Rabah Hashem for keeping me safe for yet another season. Bittersweet sorrow but sublime joys.

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I needed to have this reminder today. I am who I love and not what loves me. Be me! Create a newer better life for myself. Work on me. I got this!

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I just received news from my cousin Melvyn Kelly that he has had 6 mini-strokes and had 2 days in hospital. Also a bad reaction to the dye they used in the MRI. He says he will have to sell his car as he was lucky he was not driving when the first stroke occurred. He is 70. He has atrial fibrillation. I pray for his healing.

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I am often literally haunted by two malevolent Shades from my life. My mother Gisela and the former lover, David Davidson.

One birthed me into this world and spent her life abusing, manipulating and debasing me. The other was hand-picked by my mother and her conman henchman (later husband).

He too, sought to debase, destabilise, manipulate me. He did not factor into the equation my power as a woman, as a child survivor, my strength and the deepest Love and passion. I was betrayed by both these humanoids and it caused deep fissures and fractures of pain.

I escaped both of them and when the latter died he came to haunt my door for 4 consecutive nights. It was very bizarre.

I see now that he was trying to show me he was sorry in his usual backwards half-arsed predatorial way.

Like my mother, a sociopath in life, with an intact personality in death, these spirits refuse to move on and they think they can still manipulate.

But I was borne on angels' wings to dance and thrive in dens of iniquity, to jive and strive, to stay alive and to be loved for no reason other than that very majestic survival became a badge of honour and an underhanded success.

So back off Gisela/David in your little vortex of evil. I rose and shone. I love, with and without you. A thousand eyes have seen the glory and witnessed the unravelling of my story and still, deaf and blind to the reality that is my inner perfection.

Psychedelic Dreamer. Cupid's Bitch and Pleasure's adornment. I only asked to have everything that was stolen/strangled out of me returned to me to the power of ten.

The Lord has blessed me with great awareness of his greatest miracles, amongst them my own triumph and my own healing. I am grateful and humbled. I am weary and wary. I have seen fake and false friends and lovers fall by the wayside.

Some I wilfully picked up and clutched to my heaving grieving blossoming breast. I fed them from the deepest, most beautiful blessèd bowels of my Soul. But it was never enough for these people. I was never enough. I will never be enough. That is ok.

They fail to see and know me as I am. Blessed Be the true lovers and the mystics, the wayfarers and the way-showers, the broken and the gloriously righteously free.

We do not belong to this world but walk through it and fly across the deep and mighty oceans of tormented tempestuous vice.

And that is ok. I have tasted real Happiness, sweet and balming like ambrosia on my lips. My loins have nurtured and birthed 2 daughters. My days and nights, accursed by contemptuous sinuous lustful men. It was a lesson in loss and grief and fortitude. I remain Beautiful in body mind and spirit.

The gods gave back my teeth, my body is toned from dancing and my mind, although sullied and fractured, is polished and brilliant like a newly-cut diamond. My wealth is more precious than rubies and stems from my Soul.

Those who tore me down, who still yet envy me, who keep me from my rightful equal status and economic success, who can only love me as a damaged deranged Disabled dependant - well, I See you, as you are. I am not afraid of your hatred or judgement.

My only blessing has been Truth and an open heart and a clarified mind.

12 August 2016

4.08 am. Time to attempt sleep again. My poor brain is working in shifts, fits and starts. Shattered. Splattered but reconstructed.

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Another superb morning. Another day in paradise. Amazing!

Blessed be the Holy One who sustains us and brings us to this season of joy! Blessed are we whom are protected and guided, loved and cherished by loved ones, seen and unseen. Thank you! X

5 hours deep sleep after a wakeful early night. I guess my body clock is recalibrating. Or another one of my weird spiritual ascensions. Mortal bodies do not cope well with immortal tweakings.

I prayed for perfect alignment and as is usual for my personal "dark-humoured" angels, they threw me under a bus. Then dragged me out and dusted me off and are catching the next ride to Nowhere or Glowear.

Funny Buggars. Bless them! I hope they know what they are doing because it is killing me.

But look…

Happy family life at Sacred Space. My car is named for the Ein Sof. I call my home Sacred Space. I sport one of the Holy One's sacred names "I am that I am" where a man's Tefillin straps would be. The prophetess of Brisbane, wise-cracking at drunks on Friday/sat night. G-D botherer spirited creature of the night and light. Lmao.

Fools and insane persons, lovers, artists and muses. G-d's Chosen.

My crazy father used to tell everyone at the Ipswich caravan park in Dec-Jan 1981-2 that I was a guru. He was nuts. But now after all these years, I think he may have been partially right.

He drove me to Gympie because an errant spirit on a Ouija board told him that I had to be given Gold Top (psylocybin) mushrooms and they could be obtained there. We walked into a local pub. He asked the bar tender. He was furious and disgusted and threw us out.

I had no idea and upon returning home to NZ, asked a friend. She was equally horrified. "That shit could have killed you!" We were not drug takers and had no idea how to prepare them. I would have probably died for sure.

Now after all these decades I learned that psylocybin can cure PTSD. But it requires an experienced person to prepare the mushrooms and I am not risking what is left of my mind on an acid trip. (Although LSD does the same thing! Also Ayahuacsa).

So for years I was furious at my ignorant foolish father obeying the instructions of a discarnate spirit and giving up only when he realised it was both illegal and dangerous. But the spirits wanted to "cure" me. How very nice. Consider me cured lol.

Psychotropic medications turned me into a zombie and my rare dabbling with marijuana in recent years has helped me more than Effexor, Zoloft, Prozac, Serzone, Abilify, Zyprexa, Cipramel.

OMG so many manufactured pharmaceuticals to keep me down and out, repress my psycho-active imagination and my wild free spirit. But it was better than killing myself. Which ultimately I almost did anyway.

Drugs are bad ...Mmmk. Get high on life. Love. Spirit. Pets. Children. True loves. Sunshine. Fresh air. water. Natural highs like weed if you must explore the inner recesses of your mind.

Weed two days after a colonoscopy, cos some sick evil bitch played Solomon's baby with a tiny puppy. My body still slushing with anaesthetic. That was the life altering trip. Mind altering. Visioning Whoopie Goldberg as God. Too funny. Watching trees breathe. Communing with them.

Bliss. But now I get to experience life fully. And straight. A few drinks on the weekend to keep me real.

But natural highs people. Life. Be in it. Cos you ain't getting out of it alive so make it uniquely yours. Love it or leave it. Supersede it. But don't impede it. Eat the chocolate. Make Love not War, if only for the sake of we celibate broken rejected ones.

Love is the lubricant of the Universe. Real love. Not those ghastly sociopaths I always choose. Jokers with greasy masks and wigs. I am paying my karma from another time and another place. So excuse me if I have to scream now. But Hashem has His Foot on me like a dying tortured rat and it is funny but I think I get it now.

Chosen Child Syndrome. I hate being OWNED and G-D KNOWS IT. lol!

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Spring is coming. Or here already. Not Sure. Only the scrub turkey knows for sure but I thought he was prematurely mounding.

I just found my first Jonquil blooms. Crushed into the ground by one of my new hens as they love being able to feel the dirt under their feet after a life in a shed kept on wire mesh.

I would be angry but hell, freedom has its price and its rewards. So I pick up the flower and put it in a vase. I tried to protect the jonquil patch with mesh but not enough. I need to go to a recycling place and buy old pet enclosures to "fence" off favourite plants as chickens must be chickens and find their feet.

Just like certain women must be Wild Women or we die. It makes no sense to anyone but us. And that is ok. :-)

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Trigger warning. Feminine hygiene topic.

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Today, 39 years ago. Aged 12. I menstruated for the first time. I was staying with my father on a Kiwi fruit plantation outside of Melbourne. He was working on the vines and I was cleaning his caravan.

I was afraid of my impending womanhood. (Remained that way right up until I birthed my daughters and after cataclysmic labours finally realised that being a woman was a state of being of a true warrior. Facing death and bringing forth life. True Alchemy of the body mind and spirit.)

I did not know what to do. But I needed sanitary napkins. I knew that much. I didn't want to tell him but there was blood and it needed dealing with. But I did. He was awkward. Embarrassed. I felt lost and confused. I stuffed toilet paper down there. (I think we were a long way from the shops?)

On coming back home to Melbourne she (my mother) gave me an old-fashioned sanitary belt and rolled up rags. Too cheap (or deliberately cruel?) to buy me proper pads from the chemist or supermarket. This was 1977, People.

I wore rags and that belt until I was 13 when I realised you could buy pads. I used my pocket money to buy them. Emancipated woman. It was a luxury and I threw that belt away with glee.

At Wellington Girls College, the other girls had mocked me for my belt and rags. It was cruel and humiliating. But one kind soul took me aside and showed me pads. What magic!

Then at 14 another girl showed me tampons. So I could go swimming and OMG!! What magic they were. The ultimate freedom!

I used them for decades until I realised that they were a toxic shock, leaching bleached cotton into my uterus and as the former homeopathic lover pointed out, causing disease. He was right about that. So at 32 I stopped using them and reverted to pads again.

At 42, my uterus was surgically removed. No more pain or suffering from my reproductive systemic failures to comply with my womanhood. It was painful but so worth it.

A bladder and vagina repair happened simultaneously. I was reconstructed and rebuilt. Like a 6 million dollar woman but penniless. I still have to watch out for my bladder. Years of trauma takes its toll on your body.

Now I am 51 and have been free of that monthly cleansing for 9 years. My body is older, wiser. Mine. A sacred space. My space. Reclaimed. Perfect.

Sure enough menopause is not for sissies. (Or really it is, a sisterhood of cronedom, but who is splitting whiskers here?)

Bring me my HRT, my lover(s), my wine/Jack Daniels, my cats, a few good books and chocolate and copious cups of tea (not good for my errant bladder, caffeine). This old woman's body has got me covered. Coverted. Converted. Cosseted but never Closetted. We are OUT. I loves my Precious, I does. Golden Girl.

Update 2019: Well...the HRT fucked up my gall bladder but there was also a family history (both my mother and elder daughter “lost” their gall -but not their Chutzpah)

Cronedom means I can no longer exist on bovine hormones to stay fresh so I will be getting older disgracefully and learning to love it.

I had to cut back on alcohol as my liver is enlarged and I also have to cut back on sugar and soft drinks as they are also dangerous for my liver.

(Been bingeing on sugar and fried food since yesterday so there will be hell to pay in two days...)

I got a little triggered so comfort fed yesterday. No wonder my stomach is aching. Although that grumbling intestinal resentment started on Saturday before I broke my healthy diet on Sunday arvo.

The full menopausal Symptoms: hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia kicked back in 2 weeks ago. After 5 weeks of blessed relief as my body focused all its resources on healing from the gall bladder operation.

Not happy about menopause biting me back like a Bitch but this too shall Pass. In like another 10 years. I have been in perimenopause since 33 and I am 54 now. A long hard ride being attacked by my own hormones.

I am looking forward to my 60s (if I can survive this epic bullshit that long?) as I think I will finally have a clear run at life without the itching/sweating/bitching and glitching.

Only time and my recalcitrant stubborn body will tell. (I hate you, you old Bitch!). “Yeah yeah, well you are stuck with me for a bit longer...Tanya the Intrepid Indomitable One.”

Self talk. Keep it real. Breathe in breathe out. Strive to Thrive.

Magic happens Babies. I am living proof of that. 🙂

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12 August 2014

Just before I woke up at 3.30pm. I was having a dream about my garden. Gail and Tayhlia and other friends had arrived and I was busy welcoming them.

I was looking down into my fishpond and was placing beautiful crystals as decorations at the bottom of my pond to go with the glass buttons and pebbles. Gail asked me why I was putting such valuable crystals (amethyst, lapis lazuli, tiger eye, into the pond) and I retorted " 'cos they are pretty and I can!"

Then I noticed about 10 or 20 people tramping all around my house, admiring my garden. Total strangers. I asked them what they were doing and they said I had joined a gardening website and they had come to view my garden. I was perplexed. They declared it all very lovely, gave me hints on various plants.

Two of the men were handsome and told me they looked forward to me joining in on the next garden viewing. One said he didn't think I should put in a veggie patch as the cats would shit in it and that would not be kosher. Then the people left.

Odd dream to have just before I heard of Robin Williams' suicide.

12 August 2012

Yesterday I had a lovely day with Jarrod who invited me to go to the EKKA. I hadn't been for almost 20 years. I loved the animals and livestock but ohhhhhh the humanity! A timely reminder about why I don't like crowds but we had fun in spite of the maddening sheeples! I got to see Jarrod's First and Second Prizewinning Bettas so that was cool too!

12 August 2011

I was out watering the garden, just prior to dusk, and was surprised with a visit from Crystal. So we lit the Shabbat Candles together, made kiddush over wine, and spent the evening practising chords on the ukelele.

Crystal had me learning songs in no time. So far we tried Mrs Robinson, Edelweiss, No Aphrodisiac, The Boxer, Sea of Love and Here Comes the Rain, Cecilia. Then I got a sore hand but was really pleased how easy it is with a good teacher.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons