Memories: 16 February 2023
Memories of traitors…isn’t it ironic? So much I had to heal from. But every single moment I am building my beautiful life back from ground zero.
16 February 2023
Today I domed the sterling silver hearts I cut out from the antique card case. I am still not sure what I will make from them. #titaniasrealm #anythingispossible #anythingbutbland #magickhappens #creativity #manifestations #hothothotsummerdays
16 February 2022
2.30 pm I just woke up from a 2 hour nap. Inspired and enervated this morning by the song message I danced and sang for a hour. Then sat outside under the tree with Charley and read a book.
Then my energy drained out of me like Someone had emptied a full and overflowing bath by shooting bullet holes in it. So I lay down and passed out into a deep sleep.
My asthma has been bad this week so I must be needing the rest. It’s the third time I have need a long afternoon nap in the past week. Which is unlike me. I usually push my way through each day even with my usual chronic states of exhaustion.
Now awake and the rest of the day and afternoon greets me with the tantalising welcome…what are we gonna do now, Tanya? I dunno but I feel a bit thirsty. Time to absorb some light, love, peace, grace and get back out in the garden.
16 February 2021
16 February 2020
10:19 am. Just woke up. It was well after 4 am when I finally succumbed to sleep. Should have gone dancing and stomped those demons into the floor and out of my head and meridians. Instead of struggling to let my brain shut off last night. I expect another bout of hypomania due to lack of sleep and an activated trauma response.
But all good. My hypomanic states can be beautiful and creative and in a way quite healing if I surf them well enough.
(Think of a very large wave, building and cresting, then at point break lots of energy surge, wildness, sea foam then tumbling down to join with other smaller waves, travelling forwards and slowly easing into peaceful equilibrium until the next mighty wave comes along.
I have learned to love and live with a mental illness that was imposed on me by bastards at a very young age. With a brain formed and informed by childhood trauma. While other humans who endured less problematic lives sit back and sneer at me.
Psy sighs. But I am not a Victim and I resented being treated like one. I survived against all odds and noone but noone gets my path or what it took to drag my own body through life with all the harm inflicted upon me (as well as the childhood diseases and then the perpetual distress).
Then my weird little habit of forming deep love attachments to narcissists or psychopaths then wondering why I could not have any semblance of a normal life.
But I am happy. I am alive. I love myself and my journey. That flotsam and jetsom wreckage of a life is slowly floating away.
People who do love me and honour me have gifted me with the most remarkable things in order to keep me alive. No one else matters. Just bit players in a Punch and Judy Show behind a curtain as they are too cowardly to come out to engage with me to my face.
They don’t have to like me. Or care. But we have a shared humanity and the gods will guide them on their path as I am guided on mine. There is great beauty and peace in knowing that.
Spirit reminded me that all the men (and women who enabled them) that actively tried to kill me or destroy me in other ways are long gone.
I barely think of my ex husband now. (Not much there to think about!) After 25 years I am finally mentally free of him after he tortured me and my children for about a decade after the divorce then finally got on with his own life. Evil dickhead.
I barely remember the faces of the other lovers that tried to kill me. One is dead and the other...dead to me anyway. He and his sister wanted my inheritance which is funny as even I did not get much of that.
I barely think about Courtenay now except with a kind of fondness and bemusement that he played into Gail’s sociopathy so well but at the time I was so stoned on SeroqueI that I could not see clearly or think clearly and truly was a victim. It took years to come up for air.
It took my suicide attempt to reset my life and begin the beguine. Nothing says “success” like climbing up from rock bottom. I am free of psych meds now. 3 years 8 months and I am rising in my own spirit and defragmenting my mind and healing. Not a “victim” anymore.
So today I am awake in my peculiar psychedelic dream, flowing with light and love. There is still hope for me yet. To find an authentic safe love partner that treats me with honour and deep love and to find my feet in turgid seas without becoming a sea monster or a cold empty vapid judgemental ghoul.
My heart. My courage. My Love. Will go on.
I am getting a little excited for what might yet manifest as I see I was brought to that house for a higher reason (to revisit with some of the people who had striven to damage me but had ultimately failed). No doubt there were allies there too, even if they did not outwardly show it. Hmmm.
I was able to stand in my own light and just love them in their darkness. To show them That All our stories are of value. Are important. Including mine. Then to walk out with dignity into the rain and a quartz gravel path because my gravel-rashed life needed that metaphor to remind me who the fuck I am. My angels, sometimes cruel and capricious...really do have my back.
Blessed be The Holy One, who creates universes beyond universes. Who lifts me up and dusts me off and gives me wings to fly in time and space and mind (even my car with one of his Names as a number plate!) Delightful whimsy. I had to fight even for that.
But I am done fighting. I am only interested in love and joy, honour and peace. May it come soon. In this paradigm, today, tomorrow and for the rest of my ridiculously absurd life. Amen
“A letter to you on a cassette because we don’t write anymore...gotta make it up quickly, there’s people asleep on the second floor”.
I brought Cees cassette tape with me. But they were all asleep in their bigoted elitist utterly disgusting bloodletting way. I was served up for the feast.
Eddy (cunning and misogynistic!) A former friend of Davidson. What can I expect then, but to be spoken to like a whore?!
I never once got paid though. For my sweet loving. Not $1. They wanted to turn me over and ravage me.. I saw it in their eyes. The absolute hate. And that was the women as well.
Well I have class. I survived far worse monsters than them in early childhood. Bored rich people. All they have is money! No soul, no class, pure vulgarity. I can’t believe I endured that. Why? My angels must have a higher reason.
Time will tell how my story plays out. A broken cassette tape. A broken childhood. A broken adulthood. A prostitute has more merit than those utterly low grade poor excuses of existence.
I love them all. Even the most vicious ones...for our shared trauma they are still in denial about.
16 February 2019
Yet another busy day. My foot is hurting a lot tonight. I will have to put on flat sandals when I go out later.
Today I moved all my dvds back into the antique credenza so I can throw out the DVD shelf in the spare room. I alphabetised them so it took a long while.
I also threw out my cpap mask I was forced to buy 16 years ago (for $325!!!). After using it for 10 months with no improvement I gave the machine back to the hospital but was stuck with the mask. It felt good to get rid of that complete waste of time and money!
I figure that my sleep apnoea hasn’t killed me in 16 years then I might as well let go of that particular unwanted paraphernalia!
I also threw out lots of other odds and ends. Decluttering is getting very addicting! It feels good to free up my house.
I finished up the evening by cooking a yummy dinner for Beauregard. He loved it. I froze the rest down for his meals for the next few days.
I have been made to feel Ashamed and discredited and vilified and slandered for my authenticity and speaking my truth all my life.
I learnt to stand naked and proud anyway. It took decades to unstrip the filthy judgements and attachments of my perpetrators and their henchpersons!
16 February 2018
16 February 2017
Really feeling sick today. First day without aspartame poisoning Berocca. It is going to take weeks to purge that vile stuff out of my body. Psy Sighs!
Beauregard was barking hysterically at the big clump of heliconias. With my heart in my mouth, expecting to see a snake I was confronted by another horror: Socks with a wood pigeon in his mouth.
I suspect one of the mating pair that I observed in courtship yesterday afternoon. Socks was not going to cede that bird over to Bobo. I had to force Beauregard inside the house and let Socks finish off his kill.
Not cool! I will need another collar with bells on it. It is not like that fat Fuck face is starving either.
16 February 2016
Ugh! Found weevil beetles in my pantry. I had to throw a lot out. So damned annoying.
Jarrod and I had a lovely day/evening together. Jarrod found some cool stuff at Bogan Christmas. Several chair cushions for the outdoor chairs and a bathtub so I can start my hydroponic garden over the top of my fish pond.
Then we went to Reverse Garbage and I picked up some matching frames to make home made recycled paper with. So when we got home I stapled mesh on the mould frame.
Then I cooked dinner with the falafel mixes Jarrod bought and the lovely salad and hummus. While I cooked Jarrod managed to sort my computer issues to upload my new Vlog onto both YouTube and Twitter.
He made a new website for my blogs and writings and got it all connected to my new Tanya Arons, Storyteller Facebook profile. The dogs played and were utterly exhausted at the end of the night. Even the cats were worn out!
Jarrod and I had white chocolate with toasted coconut for dessert.
Now at 2.35 am I am watching a movie then will get to bed. I am glad I had a nice day after my emotional wreckage of a weekend.
Thanks Jarrod, for always being my rock and believing in me!
16 February 2014
My beautiful Sarah took me out for dinner last evening before our epic night dancing. We had trouble deciding what we most fancied eating so we settled on Jatt Flava. Indian. The food was superb. I rarely break from my favourite dishes being such a creature of habit when it comes to my dietary wishes.
The lovely owner Kim suggested we stretch our imagination so we had Paneeri. ( fried cheese that came on a sizzling hot plate with capsicums, onions. Yum! Then we shared a Spicy curry which was a "surprise" and another eggplant curry.
We sat outside with the night zephyr's blowing through our hair and it was a wonderful sensation. I didn't tell Sarah this but she was backlit by some lighting beyond and it made her gorgeous red hair have this awesome glow.
It was such a lovely meal and I will definitely go there again.
Then we danced until 4 am. I get mad that no gorgeous hunky man has snapped up my beautiful friends and me but as I said to Sarah, they would really cramp our freedom and style, control and (Blech!) either Domicile or Domesticate us and this wolf woman/mustang woman loves being free for the first time in my life.
I guess I will have to meet a fellow Wolf man or Mustang Man who enjoys running free with me and won't Tame me too much! Oh and who mates for Life, not just for Christmas, Darlings!
So we agree that even if we find longterm partners, we need one day a week to dance wildly, get a little crazy and commune with our group of gorgeous women who inspire, love and support one another!
Crystal bought me lovely Fish and chips at Newstead.
I am so grateful to my gorgeous friends and daughter for your love and generosity. Thank you Hashem for bringing so much Love, Kindness and Generosity into my life.
Looking forward to seeing The Hipshooters on 28 Feb. Also Sons of Anarchy cast members on 29 March. Life is good and still improving.
Awake and Aware. Now the recovery begins...but wait! Jabba is playing tonight?! Tempting! Lol!
4.33 am. Home again :-). Ueber sore feet from dancing but I had a lovely time with my wild flower friends.
I am having a fantastic night out with the Two Sarahs. Sarah Breen joined us. At Sabotage being wild and free and Loving it. Alter Ego is playing at Elephant Arms and my feet are so sure from moshing that I came to Sabotage to meet up with Sarah Breen. Awesomeness!
*Sore…although I am pretty sure footed also like a goat on a mountain trail, even when Drunk. PTSD has many back-handed gifts lmao!
16 February 2012
I am looking forward to this weekend. I may even have a date if my friend arrives from Gladstone. I am still going out Friday night and I hope to catch up with Crystal before she flies to Thailand.
16 February 2011
Michelle Sklow Stevens: Update pictures, please.
Me: Pictures of my swollen fingers (or the clean house? lol). Hmm not sure if I should have actual pictorial evidence of what I can do if I force myself too.
It might set some kind of benchmark of cleanliness standards and I might have to maintain that bench mark...she says, scrubbing the marks off the bench.
Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons
About the Creator
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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