Memories: 17 November 2023

17 November 2023

17 November 2022

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My beautiful friend Sally visited me and brought me lovely gifts from New Zealand. Thank you Sally. They are wonderful. The chocolate is a work of art in itself!

I love the gemstone tree. the soap smells amazing! Black Raspberry and vanilla. Yum! I love the beeswax candle also.

Spoilt Tanya here!

17 November 2020

Me @Kelly Anne: Crystal told me new guy I recently met was not being creepy by saying he wants to get to know me on a deeper level.

It means I am not ready if I can’t tell the difference. Sad but true!

Still he was the first man in 7 years to actually ask for my number and then follow through by Calling me! I was astonished!!!

I might have been too hard on him (And myself!). But it is what it is. Such is my life. I might never get it right or be able to love or trust a man again.

I was feeling very distressed about this the past few days. Then today realised its part of the process of healing from all the epic heartache.

Only way out is through!

Holding my own love precious because...it’s safer for me.

Kelly Anne it’s not actual death they are addicted to...it’s chasing death to the nth degree then coming back from it. Sad fuckers. Look at Michael Hutchence

But then I have been a death eater myself too. I kept hooking up with arsehole dark triads trying to have normal healthy constructive relationships with them. Hahahaha! Funny but true.

Now I am just so astonished to still be alive and cracking on with my solitary cherry pipped absurdist existence!

In psychiatric parlance it’s called “BURN OUT”!

Poor bloody Tanya. But I still have my libido occasionally twitching like a dying fish. And hopes of some ridiculous romantic notions.

Kelly Anne: Tanya Arons Trust your instincts

Me: Kelly Anne I told new guy that I am happy in my life now, doing my thing, being creative. It’s the truth.

It’s taken me 55 and a half years to get to this space of sacred happiness!

My friend Jarrod reminded me that I have distinct patterns: early in the year, frenzied decluttering, then epic creativity, followed by what we jokingly call “Swedish Death Cleaning”.

I have decluttered so much that there is not much else to throw away except my fears and insecurities.

Then the epic creativity is almost orgasmic albeit exhausting.

Then the Clean up afterwards will be epic!

Kelly Anne: Tanya Arons My support workers would be thrilled to swap you for me atm.

Me: yeah I am on the tippy toes at the edge of the abyss again. Big changes coming. I feel it too

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17 November 2019

I am going to write about my shamanic “maniac” journey I experienced during Ecstatic Dance on Friday night. It was a very powerful mystical experience and I am still processing much of it.

I “flew” again but this time, instead of being fearful or blocking out the images shown to me I embodied some of them and directly engaged with others.

So here is where I ask the non-believers in the mystical or supranatural to stop reading. It will seem crazy or confronting. Lol!

So during the dancing I saw several images. One was of a being of Light that formed in my minds eye. Writhing and twirling like an ancient cave painting or like an image in one of Picasso’s paintings.

I was a bit startled. I had not expected to “see” any spirits or symbolism. Usually I just dance and work myself into a frenzy then collapse afterwards. I had not seen such clear imagery before.

So I was watching this being that looked like writhing light dancing in front of me (my eyes were closed!) I smiled to myself as we joined in this both physical and cosmic Dance. But I started to doubt my own mind (a longtime terminal handicap!) so I decided to ask the spirit who they were? They felt feminine.

So I said inside my mind “who are you?” and She replied “I am Lilith”. I was momentarily taken aback but I kept moving my body, breathing light and replied “Oh Wow”.

She moved with me for a few more moments then vanished. I felt no fear, only peace and a strange kind of cognisance. I am in esteemed company, I thought.

Not long after I saw an pentagon shape. It represented a rudimentary drawing of a house to me. Then I was shown a heart. Home is where the heart is. Hearth is. Fire in my belly. Love in my Home.

Or perhaps Love coming home to me. (I am extrapolating here but it is my psychedelic dreamer’s dream after all....) then some more complex design of an Art Deco rectangle shape which looked like rings my jeweller Bill makes based off Art Deco designs.

Maybe I should buy myself one? Not sure what that imagery was suggesting. Maybe it was a connection to the 1920s? Who knows?!

So I just nodded said “Thank you” and kept dancing. But the “dance” asked me to do rather strange things. Things I am not normally flexible enough to do.

I was instructed to do the child’s pose. (The yoga pose I was unable to assume last time at the yoga immersion dance as my body sweated and screamed and hyperventilated and I was in so much pain I had to sit out the rest of the yoga session.)

Now... I had not done any yoga poses for about 15 years so it was completely understandable that not long post-surgery my body could not do that. I had felt foolish and awkward and uncomfortable ie a failure. Lmao.

But this time some inner knowing that I was somehow in contact with, had me get into that pose and this time it was easy. I even stretched my hands behind my crouching hobbit dragon lady back in triumph. “Now there Tanya...what WAS all the fuss about?” I just smiled again, doubting my own sanity and letting my body guide me.

Then the spirit/higher mind/knowing showed me a pattern in my minds eye. It looked like a frog. It said “assume that position”. (My Conscious mind was like um...what the actual fuck?) But the music was coursing through me and my body obeyed.

I found myself with elbows bent, hands pressed down parallel to my chest in what looked like a frog’s natural posture. My legs folded behind me on the wooden floor of the sacred space of the Church (holy ground! So I knew I was Safe and being contorted while being supported!!!) I said to myself “Um okay, now what!”

The image shown clearly of the shape of a rudimentary frog. Looking a bit like one of the Viking Runes or something Neolithic. Interesting.

The voice or energy said “try to lift your body up from this position!” So I pressed my aching swollen arthritic heat-affected hands into the floor and felt the power of my own body lifting slightly up. Okay. It’s doable. But I feared hurting my already sore hands and also perhaps looking like a crazy person embodying a frog about to launch itself from a lily pad into the celestial Waters.

Enough unfurling your lotus, you mad cow, I thought. Laughter in the ether. “Okay. Lean forward on your knees and touch your forehead to the floor in blessing”.

Anyone who knows me knows that I crawl on my knees for no one. It hurts my bad left knee too much. Even bending on the floor to pick things up while vacuuming can be agonising for me! I also refuse to submit to any fucking human! For good reasons!! But this was no human and I sensed they were testing me, playing with me and there was humour and mischief but also a teaching.

“Show me what you can do!” So I brought my knees together from my weird frog pose and leant deeply forward, squishing my fat hobbit body again, I pressed my forehead into the floor. “See, you can do it, even with your weird body and arthritis and mental blocks... you can Do anything and embody anyone!” I stayed in this supplicant blessing pose, not feeling submissive or weak or even sick but extremely Loved, Nurtured, Protected and Powerful in my own Energy.

Again, feeling bewildered but inspired I said a quiet internal Thank You! Then I stood up and kept dancing. I asked why I was made to take on the position of the frog and I was told “for your Metamorphosis!” Like umm duhhh!!!

So I cannot express the miracle and mystery and magic of all this. But I am opening up more and more to God/Great Spirit/the multiverses in all Their manifestations and I am no longer afraid. No longer afraid of my metamorphosis or my deeply spiritual embodiment of all that is…that has been striving so hard and so long to work with me all my life.

I feel humbled and awestruck and profoundly respected. Seen, heard and now even physically embodied. Something is changing within me and I am being prepared for my next evolution in this life. A life that is rare and spectacular even in its often gross dross inequity and various cruelties.

Lilith is with me as we arise the sublimely divine feminine. Abundance in the spiritual gold seam of my epically weird stubborn recalcitrant life is here too. So many gifts. Blessings. So much Love.

Eternal, purified, clarified and resplendent. The Tanya is The Psychedelic Dreamer living her truth in all worlds, paradigms and manifestations in the Eternal Now.

Blessed Be to the Holy One. Xxx. Thank you! Aho!

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So it’s not a Rune but it looks to me a bit like a frog. It also looks like “as above, so below” as an mirror image perfectly formed “u” only stretched out a little.

No idea what it means exactly.

I had another epiphany just now about the “frog” embodiment.

Last night Crystal brought Ashleigh to see me. I had not seen Ashleigh for 2 years, since her mother Karin died.

It was totally unexpected. We went on a bit of a road trip. Like we used to do with her father Bernie when they were kids. Pre-teens.

Anyway it just hit me that Karin had been very fond of frogs. They were her totem animal. She had frogs everywhere in her home.

So perhaps it was a message to tell me that I was going to see her daughter (although I had not known what that was about at the time!)

Bregje Tit: This is beautiful. Spirits gave you the right exercises, I have to do these things for my rotten back. I loathe it, but when I 'surrender' it feels good. Coming home. The other thing that strikes me is the image of a pentagon, is that also a pentagram? I saw it too, because I once saw it on a house in the USA, but that was in 2014. It came back to me. It feels like protection of your riches, no matter if they are material or spiritual. ❤

Me: Bregje Tit a pentagram or pentacle is the 5 pointed star which is confused by most Christian as Satanic (which is the pentacle inverted) but is actually the Seal of Solomon and represent protection, light, etc.

Bregje Tit I don’t have any riches as far as money goes but I do have a lot of spiritual protection and other strange and unique blessing from the gods.

I am grateful for my survival and occasional Thrival. For good friends who always have my back and love me no matter how unusual my life has always been. For my daughter(s) even though Jasmine is estranged. For my pets, my garden, my government home. For my deep love and reverence for Life which has somehow kept me alive and relatively sane.

Grateful for G-d who created me then gave me the tools to co-create my own Self from so much ground zero devastation since early childhood.

I pray the Holy One gifts me with happier safer kinder wiser more nurtured life from now on.

I have seen firsthand how I have grown in the past 5 months. Having a stubborn heart and a quirky sense of humour and sense of the absurd has always been my strength.

Even if I never attract a true love partner I know I have been deeply loved by my true friends, by the spirits and by my pets. That is my “wealth”!

Bregje Tit: Tanya Arons ah, exactly what I mean! I am in a difficult time in my life, not much friends, no work due to my back and my house is too small for animals right now. I want to move to another house, which is very hard in Amsterdam and maybe I'll decide to go and live closer to the sea. Which will be quite a project then 😅. About riches, when astrologers (I am one myself now) see my birth chart, they always say it looks like I am materially allright, but it's not. Almost even struggling with food now (no more good meat unfortunately 😁) but I think they see the 'inner riches'. When I think of everything I have done until now, the experiences I had, it is enough to fill several lifetimes. And I have not even discovered everything in myself yet (just made my first sculpture) so these are my riches (feelings also, and try to put them into art). But! When I move I definitely want a cat or two and if I did not have to work, a dog too. I particularly like your beautiful colorful bird! So nice and a cutey. 😍

Me: Bregje Tit I too was told I am rich. Lol. I have lived in quite dire poverty now most of my adult life . (I did own a freehold home at 23 and a business but lost everything in my separation at 29. I never recovered what was taken from me. But all good. I am kept in relative poverty on a Disability pension and live in a government home.

People have scorned me and Degraded me because I no longer own my own home and was robbed of so much. But I am content with my home and garden and my beautiful pets. They are my “family” my soulmates and even my healers . Penny is lying beside me as I type, purring happily.

I have fought hard all my life to keep myself and my family safe. I am exhausted and broken and depleted. But I continuously rise and fucking Shine 😉

I too crave to live by the sea. But no money and no career no partner and no future.

But here I am...alive in my own psychedelic dreamer’s dream, holding myself together on Pollyanna Wishes and promises and cleaving to absurdist ideas of Love and Success.

It’s cute but ridiculous.but it’s who I am. Warrior Goddess Queen in middle age with big feet, big attitude, lots of laughter and the epic wild dancing which has gifted me so much joy and healing.

I am a Rich Woman. Rich in Spirit.

Love you Bregje! May we both be blessed with our beautiful manifestations of a life of ease by the sea...maybe with our own true love partners by our side and if not, then surrounded by our lovely loyal platonic friends/community/tribe and of course our pets and spirits!

Don’t give up on the Dream. Sometimes...sometimes....they come true.

Art is wonderful. Send me a photo of your sculpture. I am thinking about taking up painting.

But I often procrastinate or get lost in space.

Penny is just so fucking Beautiful. She is even patting me with her back paw now. She knows how to comfort me better than most humans. My dearest sweetest love.

When I attempted suicide she was so distressed. Until recently she freaked out every time I took a bath. But she knows I am over That epic shit now. Holding onto Life in vague hopes of a spectacular future.

Bregje Tit: Tanya Arons this exactly what I wanted to say to you, but you tell me at the end: live your dreams, I want to add: they are absolutely not absurdist! And Life itself is absurdist 😁 so, why not hahaha! I live on social security, I was screwed by the government a few years ago, they should have put me in a more secure fund (bit more money, and no work obligation) but they treat me as a healthy person because I look/am "too young to have a ruined back". Above that I should have inherited quite some money from my father, but it was all taken away by my evil stepmother. My halfbrother lives in his own all paid off house (never want any contact with him). So it looks like I am pushed to live only with the essential. The only thing that frustrates me is that I am forced to work and if I can't find a 'normal' job, they will force me to work for that shitty bit of social security. Forced labor! I would be satisfied if they would let me alone, so I can turn to myself and my art. I did enough for other people, I don't want to be forced to work for others for such a little amount. I will send you some art on messenger (don't want them to be spread on fb) and my sculpture is on my fb wall, the Earth Goddess 😍

Bregje: Tanya Arons that paw awww 😊 Tanya Arons and I am very impressed by the way you rise again, and again. I feel quite numbed, only creating art or having a hardrock ball with my best friend, make me feel alive. You are a true Fenix from the Flame!

Me: Bregje Tit ahh yes I did see that lovely sculpture. I am So sorry for your situation. I went through similar with evil conartist stepfather and his evil daughters.

I don’t have to work though. I get a disability pension which is just enough to cover rent, bills and food. Lately I have even been struggling to buy enough food. It’s been a bit scary. But I can’t work as when I do it always becomes highly abusive /toxic and downright precarious for me. So I choose this life quite deliberately.

Sometimes it’s like falling on my own sword then being stabbed every which way by the sword of Damocles as well.

But in recent months I finally realised how lucky I am that I have This Much.

I too have a bad back but it’s been better since the gall bladder surgery. Actually it improved a lot after my hysterectomy 12 years ago. But it still gives me trouble occasionally.

Living in chronic pain and poverty is awful. It’s also lonely at times. And yes people see only what they want to see and spread lies and slander about the rest.

But I survived more things than the average human as I know you have too. So who cares what anyone thinks of us?! We have something they don’t have: honour, integrity and courage.

It sends them psycho just knowing they can never be like us. I am Quite proud of that actually. My own “Becoming!”

May I suggest you go down to social Security with evidence of your back injuries (xrays etc) and remind the filthy dirty bastards that you have worked hard enough in life and been stolen from and abused and you actually need a better pension.

Remind them they owe that to you. Tell them you have a friend in Australia whose paedophile fucking step father was a concentration camp survivor in Mittelbau -Dora and the Dutch govt gave his name out to the Nazis as he was sold into actual forced slave labour. That he was only one of 12 men from Ouderkerk am der Amstel to survive. That their contempt for their own citizens has caused shockwaves into the next generation and they owe us. BIG TIME.

We did not deserve that epic evil Bullshit. Neither did he. Although he chose to be a sexual predator. I won’t blame the Dutch govt for that!

So what I am saying is: say NO AND demand your rights as a Dutch citizrn. Get a good friend to go with you and act as an advocate. Be utterly fearless. You need to Eat ffs!

Bregje: Tanya Arons did that already, asked for second opinion. The only way to get into that better fund, is to work for a year and then turn sick again. But i am too sick to work 😅. My social security manager refuses to let me be checked by the governmental doctors. And with backproblems, they always say: some people have worse x-rays than you and they work, so you have to work too.

Me: Bregje Tit fuck them. Demand an independant tribunal. That manager sounds abusive. Report him.

Sorry. I am probably not helping with my epic rage. But I hate seeing people suffer because of systemic abuse.

Document everything. Every phone call. Keep copies of every letter/email etc.

Centrelink kept losing my file. Pulled every stunt in the book. Evil it was! But eventually I got my pension. Now I wish I could succeed somehow and get off it. But that is unrealistic given my trauma issues.

Bregje: Tanya Arons what is Eat ffs? Tanya Arons it is a struggle, but probably also a part of my process to stand up for myself. But fighting the goverment is almost undoable so i am trying to find different ways to reach my goals. It feels like the tide is turning positive for this.

Me: Bregje Tit I meant you need to eat, for fucks sake. Ie you need the correct pension.

And yes...keep fighting for yourself. Apply your energies to the things most needed for your survival. Do not let government bureaucrats abuse you or intimidate you. They actually work for you! And in all organisations you have your fucking psychopath who will try to deny you your rights.

Do not let any man woman or child come between you and your Rights.

Of course it takes much psychic energy which is why I recommend you take someone with you to keep you feeling calm when you have meetings with social Security.

Someone to be a witness or take notes. It also shows the government you are not alone or without support. There is great power in showing there is a witness. Always.

Me: I had to fight like a demon for two years for my pension. During some of the worst years of my life. But I got it eventually.

Bregje: Tanya Arons Bureauc-Rats 😁. Thank you for your support dear. I am being precautious, exactly because it takes too much energy. Besides, I would like to have a job, but one I can manage, and so earn the extras i need. But the Law here forbids me to even do a short study to get a job like for instance, a doctors assistant. I would love to work 24 hrs a week as a doctors assistant, for the right salary.

Me: Bregje Tit I hope you get your highest dreams fulfilled, dear lady x

Bregje: Tanya Arons thank you, so sweet! And all your highest dreams be fulfilled too ❤

Me: I found out on 26 February 2020 that this is the symbol for tin (Jupiter!).

How cool. I had not realised I was being gifted messages in alchemical Symbols.

I am grateful that Spirit’s communicating with me although I may not always decipher the precise meaning.

Hopefully in time the communication will be easier to interpret.

Although I was lead to google another symbol I saw that same night which turned out to be the symbol for Lead (Saturn) and that brought me to discover the meaning of the other symbol.

I was feeling like I might be dying (after having skin cancers burnt (frozen) off and feeling weak and fatigued.

So the Lead means death or transformation. Hmmm.

Pentagon shape means physical perfection too.

Bregje: Tanya Arons tin /Jupiter is good! Means healing. And tin is light and thin, like new skin 😁💋

Me: Yes some of those symbols and imagery are only now starting to make sense. Very trippy experience 🙂

17 November 2018

Well well well...they tried to kill me...I won! Let’s eat!

Laura Martin: NOTHING can kill you! You are a warrior goddess! Now feast upon your victory! 🤗

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Dammit. I lost one of the new mojo earrings Jarrod bought for me in Melbourne. Hopefully it will turn up somewhere in the house. I love them.

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Haha found my earring. It was hanging off Bobo’s fur. Must have got caught in his fur when I lay on the couch. Clever baby had it the whole time.

Woohoo! My full mojo (Mana!) is back!

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I have a headache. Must get out of bed and drink water and crack on with my day!

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4:10 am. Home from a wonderful night. Happy and grateful for the love and support of my true friends. I met a young man who was half Dutch and half Scottish and he was rather protective of me. Very sweet! (Now some of the signs from the spirit world recently are starting to make sense!) he was only 32 but was very kind.

His Oma had been in an Indonesian concentration camp from age 12. So once again second generation or third gen trauma attracted someone with a similar background and ancestry.

I also met an older man who loved hamming up with me to the songs. I enjoyed dancing with him until his hands started straying to my arse. So I admonished him politely.

A former flame that I loved very much showed up too. I ignored him. He sent one of his friends to hang about me while I danced with my friend Adam.

I turned to Adam and said nonchalantly “now they are moving in packs. Such idiots, after all the bullshit putrid pointless psycho mindgames they wasted all that time playing when we simply could have been fucking!”

Adam and I giggled so the doofus ran with his tail between his legs to report back to the ex lover what I had said. I watched him whisper in his ear and they both turned to look at me. I kept my face passive.

Honestly! Men behaving like nasty petulant school boys that need their torture chamber at their English public school. Ignoble twats!

My young new friend came to check on me as I slowly started to withdraw into myself but that was only reasonable as I was exhausted. I thought that was lovely.

So there we go! We danced, we jive turkeyed, we did not let the shadow men from my past get to me too much.

Real men don’t hurt women or play mindless childish games. I was raised by narcopaths and psychopaths and married into a family of dull intellect psychopaths as well. So it is rare that I let anyone pull the wool over my eyes.

I can thank Uncle Cees, my violent father, David, that paedophile Trevor and my narcissist mother Gisela, for inculcating some very extraordinary life skills in me...after all. My complex ptsd is my Superpower.

I am very proud of the woman I am Now! I wore my black full length evening skirt with my red corset and I was the queen of my own Destiny:kept myself safe but happy and came home alone to my animals and a very hot bath.

Washing that man right outta my hair. Feeling loved, in spite of everything. Haters gonna hate and players gonna play but just for today...and tomorrow and the rest of my life...Mama T is sashaying away. Her way!

Thanks Black Douglas for the spiritual protection. You are one helluva warrior guardian. I am humbled and at your service, my lord! (As long as ye walk in the holy light of G-d. Amen v’selah!)

Lyn Sloane: Blessed with the company of one warrior and where there is one, there is others. Maybe you have been seen to meet the criteria for the age in which we live? Battles are not always fought with weapons.

Me: I was just reading an article on strangulations and was triggered as I was strangled three times in my 30s.

Another article on bullying reminded me of the past several years at the casino being stalked and bullied by a spiteful envious woman. Of course bullying was something I lived through daily at school, at home, at university, at work.

Bullying, strangulations, sexual Assault. Being robbed fiscally by abusive men as well.

I asked myself how I survived. The years at shule when I was being overtly and covertly slandered and vilified also.

All the false women friends who turned so vicious when I left my bad marriage as I lost “status” in the form of home/business, security and an abusive man. Hmmm.

Well I did not know back then that I was a warrior goddess. I was too busy trying to survive my own life so I could raise my two small children and try to somehow get us to safety. By the time the fates gifted me this home in Holland Park and my kids and I were truly safe, my kids did what all tweenies and adolescents do and left me. Alone. And I grieved. And grieved.

But how did I survive?!

I stood up and was counted. I kept showing up. In dark places with false salivating faces drooling their despotic hate towards me barely hidden by ghoulish smiles.

I danced alone at first. Then gradually a tribe began to join me. People drawn to my fierce need to express my joy in my own survival to Thrival. Women who loved me no matter what and were (are!) proud and happy to stand beside me and had my back.

Women like you Lyn my true sister who has protected me for 30 years because you too understood the immense suffering and the moral torpitude it took to survive and keep living in a debased hateful existence.

I survived because I spoke my truth, even though the courts believed liars and conmen and abusers so I somehow acquired two DVO’s and an undeserved reputation.

I survived being strangled three times by chance or by temerity. Perhaps the angel or demon that kept me safe boiled through my eye sockets into their souls and that is why they let me live?

But to Dale Johnson, lover of Louise Myerthall/Watson you filthy traitor of our sex, and to David Davidson, and Terry Rosilio and your depraved vagina flaunting gutter trash sister (karma is a bitch!) Gila Rosily, Whom I begged to stop her brother from torturing myself and my daughters further but who told me I deserved it for not marrying her brother...(as they wanted my inheritance?! Lol. Vile evil dickheads!)

I look forward to seeing you three in Hell. David Davidson is already there!

How did I survive?!

One fucking day at a time. 20 years as a zombie in automatonic response. Sleeping my days and nights. Driving my kids to school, eating, shitting, barely breathing. Instead of kindness and compassion I earned myself more violence and more false friends/lovers.

How did I survive? I simply became this warrior goddess person that no human man can love or care for (except for Jarrod who is a superhuman like yourself Lyn as he has stood by me for almost 27 years and without you both I would have shrivelled and withered and dried up and been blown like a shucked husk by the winds of fate but you taught me to love myself enough to get through another day and another and another.

Sometimes a day was an eternity of pain yet I got through it breath by tortured breath. But here we are. Survivors. It’s beautiful and terrifying and splendid and remarkable. But glorious.

I love you. I love Me too. Love is our gift and our valour. Our courage and our prize.

Without it...I can’t bear to think how I would have managed without the love of just one good person... and I have had many See me now and lift me on strong shoulders and buoy me up and even at times put me on pedestals which I am doomed to always fall off of as I was always a clutz.

I rejoice! In my survival and in my thriving and in my precious hardwon tribe! I adore you. Always and forever. To infinity and beyond.

17 November 2017

3:10 am. Woke up with tight pressure in back molar again with a lumpy raised rash in the gum area around it. These two back teeth were given a clean bill of health by my dentist last week.

Wtf???! But I see the maxillo-facial specialist on Thurs 23 Nov. I hope I can hold out that long and he can work out what is going so very wrong.

No wonder I feel so weak most days. It seems to flare up randomly.

17 November 2016

Unfucking decades of fuck ups? Priceless.

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Trigger warning: dv, child sexual abuse, incest

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During my first pregnancy (with the now-actress Crystal Arons) I experienced, at 6 months into the pregnancy a terrible anxiety and depression. (Compounded by abuse from both my husband and my own family).

I had a bout of vomiting from morning sickness which I had been unable to control and vomited a trail of puke on the way to the bathroom. My husband sneered at me and told me I was disgusting and to get down on my knees and clean it up. Which was rather cruel as I was naturally going to clean it up as like ew. Spew stinks and sinks into the carpet. So after I was done vomiting the remains of my stomach I naturally got down and scrubbed the carpet.

Anyway I began having flashbacks of child sexual abuse I had endured from age 6-7 with Trevor Singh. Rising panic attacks as I knew I was not safe with my husband/mother/father/stepfather/sister/in laws and now, now! I had a baby kicking and whirling inside me.

I tried to imagine if it was a boy or girl or what it would look like. I was deeply deeply afraid of failing this child. Of giving it a terrible life. I made naïve promises that I would be the best mother I could ever possibly be. I would give my children safety, love and everything in my limited power.

I had a freehold home with my husband but little money of my own. He made sure of that. My mother bought me secondhand clothes all through my marriage. To "help" me but also verbally belittle me.

Micheal was a good provider as far as food went and bills were paid. He doted on my girls until they turned 5 then he became jealous and threatened by them. "Get them out of my face! Why aren't they in bed yet? I need space".

But I digress! So during this second trimester I was 20 years old. I spent nights rocking myself to soothe myself and my unborn child. It will be ok. We will have a lovely life. I will protect you. It never occurred to me that I had no one to protect me.

The flashbacks got worse. Even olfactory memories came back. The stench of cum and his foul lusty breath. I was confused. I had blocked all memories of Trevor and also Cees abusing me. I thought I was coping. A grown woman with a house, a husband and my own baby soon to be born.

But the dreams and memories kept coming. In desperation, convinced I had gone mad I visited my childhood friend. She looked at me with a mixture of compassion and horror.

"You have not gone mad, Tanya! Those memories are real". She went into another room and brought out her childish but eerily accurate diary composed when she was 11. She was 4 years older and at 7 I had finally disclosed to her that Trevor was abusing me.

She wrote that she did not know what to do or who to tell. But she told her teacher. No help was given but he explained that I had to say No and stay away from Trevor. So My friend came home and explained he was trying to put a baby in my tummy and I had to keep away from him.

A baby? My 7 year old brain could not comprehend this. Babies are for grown ups? Why would I want a baby in my tummy.

My palms sweated and I was filled with terror. My friend offered to help me kill him. She hoped we could cut a brake line. But we were both young children and even though we popped the bonnet we didn't know what a brake line was.

I still remember the look of helplessness on both our faces. "Nevermind", she said. "You just stay away from him as much as possible." I was afraid. He was always in our home. Had easy access to me.

The one time a year earlier when I defied my mother as I wanted to be at Lynne's house for our frequent sleepovers (thank god for those!) I had begged my mother to let me go and instead she had thrown me into a glass door. So I also knew with the conviction of a sage that I was not safe with her either.

But for 6 months I avoided Trevor. He never touched me sexually again. Then my mother and I boarded a ship to Europe. Safe from Trevor but not from later predators. A ship steward. Cees.

I knew I had to protect my baby. Trevor was still part of our family life. He had attended my engagement party and my wedding. I had not wanted him there.

I went to my husband and told him about my childhood. He was my first sexual partner/BF/lover. I married my first BF to be safe. To have my own family. To be free of the past. But I had none of those things.

He looked at me and said "So You were tainted after all. Not even a Virgin". I cried, horrified he could hate me, who was an innocent child. Technically (no full penetration) I was still a virgin until when I had my first sexual encounter with Micheal. But what difference did that make???

Once a man damages a child, the repercussions last a lifetime. It is not a fucking competition in how much, how often, penetration etc etc. All abuse is abuse. No matter how mild or serious.

A child processes it the same. Even worse for a child with a high iq. The confusion. The questioning ourselves for decades. Why? Why? Why me? Why did I not have any power to escape it? Why did my family allow it?

No answer to that.

I escaped as best I could given my entire family knew. To my friend. To the beach. School was not safe for me either. Constant extreme bullying. Then more abuse, physical/verbal/sexual in my home.

Anyway, I write this now as a survivor. As a warrior. As an end stage trauma patient. I wanted to die as a child and frequently as an adult. I have survived against my better judgement. To what end? Hahaha. I try not to think about that.

But I must say my former psych nurse friend did explain that the pregnancy hormones, the stress of my fecund burgeoning body, my transition from maiden to matron is what caused the trauma flashbacks. She had nursed many new mothers suffering Post Natal and Perinatal depression who had also been CSA survivors. 2nd trimester. A ticking time bomb goes off in a maternal brain. Very common indeed.

When I disclosed to my mother. She called me a dirty liar. I left her home in distress. I have never been a liar. The truth has always been my benchmark of integrity. Only abusers lie. They have so much to hide.

The next day I was told by Cees that Trevor had visited and Mum had threatened him with a knife and told him to never come to her home again. (Too little too late!) She had sliced his hand open during Angela's childhood in an argument. I knew the scar across his hand well.

What had that fight really been about? Had she known he was molesting my sister?

Cees told me he had always suspected that Trevor had 'touched' me. I drew no comfort from his failed attempt at compassion. He had sexually harassed me too.

In fact he had asked to touch my pregnant belly and had let his hand move lower before, in disgust, I stepped away.

My father also (with my burgeoning colostromic milky breasts) had visited my home and, as I was washing dishes had stepped up behind me and groped my breasts.

I was horrified. I was 20. A woman. A new mother and still the men in my family thought it was acceptable to touch me.

I wanted nothing to do with them. Not really. Trevor never came near me again. When my daughter was born my mother rather cynically gave me a present from him. A pillow to put in the crib. I threw it away. Babies don't use pillows. I wanted nothing of him near my child. Ever. Everrrrrr!

Knowing what I know now. Overcoming decades of trauma at the hands of that entire family, I should have run away before Crystal was born. But I was afraid. I knew I had serious health issues. I knew I could not survive on my own. Is that not what they constantly told me? "You are stupid and insane. You will never make it on your own! You need a man!"

I left my husband when I was almost 30. The abuse continued unabated. Divorce. Strangulations. New lovers doing the same. My dad used to laugh at me. "You are a mugwump. It is emblazoned on your forehead. Everyone sees it like a neon sign". "Victim. Victim. VICTIM."

I survived by becoming a zombie. Antidepressants, antipsychotics to quell my rages/my terrors. My biggest fear? Never being truly loved. Never being safe.

A gp demanded housing commission give me this home to live in. My only safe haven. Now I feel entombed in it. Nowhere safe. Nowhere to be loved by a partner.

Always alone. My only gift from the gods were my children and 3 good close friends.

Now the children are gone and the friends are drifting. Who can blame them? At 51 I am still unable to stand up and be counted. Provide for myself. Be truly financially independant. The State houses and feeds me even as it variously still abuses me. But only if I dare strive to thrive.

When I fought against my family of abusers in the will dispute. The two fake DVO's pushed through by my former husband and Buck Scherer and even in last year's suicide attempt my Doctor was so horrified by my misdiagnosis and mismanagement that he wrote a formal complaint. The abuse never ends.

What will end? Me. Done and dusted. Cut the mustard. Cut the crap. Cut the cheese. Fled and bled and still when all is said, lived and loved and got up again and again and again. For no good reason but that is life Baby. Handle it.

Update: 17 Nov 2018: 2 years on...still striving to thrive. Amidst potent blatant envy and my own inability to find stability (both financial and in relationship).

But every day I am witnessing more and more of my innate power as a woman, seeping out like a soothing balm. So many people who should have loved me or at least protected and cared for me, are slinking away like the hounds of Hell they always were.

Haha the best my mother’s long dead spirit can do is play ouija via songs in the Salvation Army op shop! Silly old hag! Haha.

Lay my head upon your pillow indeed!

My warm and tender body remains untouched by the false hands and mouths and penii of ghastly fake superficial fools.

To quote another Survivor, Marilyn Van Den Ber “I am a survivor of incest and I am not ashamed!”

If any man can love my body in a healthy loving passionate respectful way, can touch my heart and stimulate my mind and let me tune into the cosmos on smouldering nights of truth and passion and authentic Love and tenderness then I will welcome him.

I am not an ordinary mortal. I was formed in fire and faith and fought against feckless putrid abusers more times than I would have wished to.

I am a Worthy, beautiful warrior goddess and I am grateful for my life and all that shaped and moulded me and indeed squeezed the very life out of me as I am a woman formed like a piece of coal under intense pressure and I am Still Becoming.

…

Been to dr. Acute rhinitis (allergies) which have dogged me since March. She says all the school children are falling asleep at their desks as they have all had untreated dust allergies. Interesting. So they are pushing Nasonex up all our tender little schnozzes. (What is really in our water/air/dust I wonder?)

She freaked out about my dog bite in my hand. Gave me antibiotics for that as I have a history of septic arthritis. Filled all my scripts. So I have slapped on another HRT patch (to stay fresh and juicy in my hardwon cronedom!) Spritzed the schnozz. Now exhausted. Might lie in my hammock and read a bit.

…

My young vivacious GP had a good laugh when she declared it was allergies causing my acute rhinitis which in turn was giving me a post-nasal drip which was exacerbating my asthma. Since March!

I said "Really? That and all my other health problems, OSA, C-PTSD, arthritis, and my highly sensitive limbic system?"

She looked at me and stated "Tanya, You are a delicate little flower". I punched my fist in the air and yelled "Yeah, Fuck it".

She stated "Also very unique".

"Yup" I said "Kill me Billy. I have been fighting all my life to survive, now I want out. How many patients visit you each day and ask to die?!"

She smiled. "Not many!" I laughed sardonically "I know right? It's a strange kind of existence". We laughed and laughed. Heyoka/Trickster style.

So now I have plenty of medications to ensure my adequate survival for however long the gods decree. Mischievous little fuckers. But it will be nice to breathe through my nose and have no asthma again. Baby steps!

17 November 2015

10.18 pm In bed. With Penny. Getting Penny Kisses. Awesome!

I have slept all day. Utterly exhausted but must have needed the unconscious refreshment of my entire system!

I just am thoroughly enjoying the quiet and the rest. I just want to lie down and heal my knee and my surging mind. All is good!

17 November 2014

I went to Bunnings. I bought a new pond filter, 2 bags of potting mix (over-priced at $5.99 grrr, as they didn't have the budget one), some wood putty to fix a window I want to do up as a garden ornament, and a sponge for mosaicing.

Then I came home and put the potting mix in new pot. Everything is looking nice. I got out the WD40 and polished the wrought iron garden bed as it was looking dingy. So that was my afternoon gone. I have to pick up Crystal at 9.10 pm.

I am glad it was a cooler day today.

…

2.53 pm. Time to get up. Crystal takes my car this arvo.

…

Boy! Am I tired! Staying up all last night cleaning out the freezer and watering garden for hours has worn me out!

..

1.27 am. Just came in from watering the garden. I potted out one of the new pots. It all looks very nice. I also bashed all the ice out of my old freezer. I now have a clean freezer and it helped cool me down.

I put the ice on some struggling plants. Might either shock them or save them. I threw the old bread from the freezer on the compost and Poss-poss was already munching happily.

I also watered all my pots on the staircase. Gave them good soaking.

I also hosed the dust off my car and gave the front garden a good watering too.

Now I am inside, exhausted with aching legs but I feel great after cooling down outside with the watering.

I accidentally flashed the neighbours 2 houses down Topaz St. They sit outside on their steps these nights which is fine. I can hear them talking, which is also fine but unfortunately for them ( and me!), my bloody sarong fell off when I was hosing the car.

I hoped like hell they weren't watching me at that point of time but I dragged my sarong back on quick smart and just kept hosing. I mean, it's dark...right?!

I feel like they watch me every night, as I can hear the man coughing. To be fair they are the only other nightowls up at my mad times of night. Gees, they talk loud though. I have my tv going and I can still hear them. Grrrr!

Time for a cup of tea and then head to bed.

17 November 2013

I have had a fantastic weekend dancing madly and exuberantly at Irish Murphies. I am really loving life and enjoying being around my beautiful friends.

I have had the best time since Halloween. I am sure hoping my Life is on the up and up and my 180 degree twist, shake, rattle and Roll continues to bring even more Joy, good times and awesomeness my way. I am ready to enjoy the Love, friendships and wonder!

17 November 2012

I didn't go back to Casino tonight due to the wild storms. Watching "I married an axe murderer" instead. Rather be dancing but my feet still hurt and I am pretty exhausted anyway! Hohum....

Karen Reviews: Woman .... Wo Man!

Me: Lmao! Woeman is Me!

…

Great night out dancing! Now ready to sleep with aching feet but happy spirit! Boker Tov Y'all!

17 November 2010

I had a good day today. Finished vacuuming under the couch. Vaccuumed the kitchen. Still have bedrooms to do, and then the steammopping and this place will almost be kosher. (I will still have the dusting to do!) I feel like I have made progress today.

17 November 2009

I'm melting....but so glad the storm cleared the air a bit. Hopefully tomorrow will be more comfortable.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons