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Memories: 24 January 2023

Piranhas and prophetic feathers…blossoming in my Fibonacci fractalised existence.

By Tanya Arons Published about a year ago Updated about a year ago 18 min read
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24 January 2023

And I would like to know…along with rogue malfeasant doctors and scientists…who were the stable geniuses that signed off on legislation that legally permitted hospitals to destroy or dispose of patient records after 7 years?

In particular the records of women who should have been awarded compensation for their tvt tapes (which occurred long before Covid was even a Thing!)

This is a trend that is eye-wateringly horrific! Yes…I was sent my evidence of my operation report. I am “lucky”. Not so lucky are thousands of other female patients whose records disappeared prior to the Shine lawyers class action which means they had no case to pursue or any recourse and therefore no claims to compensation.

Factor in that I have been whistleblowing against these kind of bureaucratic anomalies for some years now. So it’s interesting that my entire file is missing but that “luckily” my operation notes were already with Shine Lawyers.

So curious minds want to know: when exactly did QE 2 hospital decide to dispose of my file? Was it after I rejected any further colonoscopies last October?

Was this an act of pettiness and viciousness because I refused other ”penetrations” of the “vaccine” kind of my body autonomy?

Or that I chose potential death by bowel cancer rather that put myself through any more of their systemic abuses (Plural!)

Even the ED doctor said he could not treat my bladder as there are now no urology reports (implying that I am crazy or a liar). Well I now have the operation report in my possession with the serial number of the tvt tape.

So never ever call me a liar or underestimate me. I have sent a copy of that report to both my new gp and my psychiatrist to keep on my patient file.

All this is crazy making: but I am not the crazy one!

I had a nice day although it was very hot. I watered the garden and showered a beautiful water dragon who came out to drink.

Then I went with Peter to visit his mother Ailsa. She turned 93 last week.

Now it is storming and raining heavily (yayyy!) but a welcome relief after the intense heat. My garden was struggling.

https://youtu.be/4L_sMqePOSM

I am going to be gentle with myself today. I worked hard for two days on the freeform labradorite pendant. I didn’t think I could pull it off. It turned out lovely even if it’s a bit amateurish. I am wearing it with pride and delighting in my newfound skills.

I am (As usual!) worried about money and Great Spirit is reminding me to just go with the flow, create when I can and to just let everything fall into its natural state of grace.

I am exhausted. I was exhausted when I started making the pendant but a spirit of great enervation helped me push myself through. I almost felt “possessed” because I would get so frustrated and tired then would throw myself back into it like a whirling dervish.

It’s pure magick! I find it amusing and miraculous.

But today I must rest or there will be another breakdown or illness. My body can’t always keep up with my mind or her will to succeed with her little projects.

I am blessed. I am happy. I am grateful. I am attuned to the multiverses. Someone Big is supporting me in my dreams and manifestations. I feel their Hand on my shoulder guiding me forwards. 🙂

Sweet but a tad terrifying. Blessed be the Holy One the Creator of all that is/was/ and ever shall be. Amen!

24 January 2022

My first words were “cup ‘a tea” and this reminds me of my mother who really was a Piranha!

24 January 2021

I woke up this morning from another intense dream. I was standing on a ledge on a tall mountain overlooking a picturesque valley. I had three people with me. A woman in her thirties, standing on my left, her husband (who looked dark in colouring) and an older woman I presumed was the woman’s mother further along on my right.

We were chatting about the view. Suddenly either a gust of wind or the woman jumped (I am not sure what happened) but the younger woman leapt out into the void. I screamed and leaned forward as did her husband and mother.

We were helplessly watching her plummet to her death. Time stood still. I went to shield my eyes from the horror. But something said “Don’t...Watch...Wait” so I looked again.

Suddenly the woman was being carried by some unseen force horizontally and was gliding just below the ledge but perpendicular to the mountain. I gasped. It was gravitationally impossible.

Then while we watched…her body was lifted up in a sort of curving loop so that she was gently landed back on her feet on the ledge beside us. Safe and sound but understandably in Awe and shock.

I burst into tears with relief. “A miracle” I yelled. Her husband nodded and her mother smiled with relief and gratitude. Then I woke up.

Immediately upon awaking I knew this was a message of some kind. How it pertains to my life I am not sure but I immediately thanked God and the angels for their blessings, and prayed as I often do...for a good, healthy, prosperous life surrounded by good kind loyal loving people and my much awaited vaunted but ever-elusive love partner.

I was barely finishing my barely synaptic thought processes and prayers which felt extremely powerful given the context of waking up from that astonishing dream...when Nigel in NZ messaged me. I answered immediately. He had been worrying about me. We had a lovely long chat.

I feel much loved and cared for. My Angels are recalibrating my mind after the recent trauma with that doctor.

All is well. I had lots of rest yesterday after my epic dancing. So feel much better today. Albeit it is very hot today. Humid. Icky and sticky.

Psychedelic dreamer has her dreams and her reality. Slipping in and out of paradigms like a queen. As I have always done.

I feel like I am being prepared by Great Spirit for some new unexpected enterprise or “Mission”. I have no conceptual idea what that might be but I feel Spirit wants me to be in service of some kind.

So I Pray it is no more traumatising life-threatening vileness like I was cast into by the gods in previous years. I am too old and too tired for dealing with dangerous psychopaths. I need a good, happy, peaceful life.

But my Angels have their own agenda and I sense they think I am Ready. Will I fly? Will they help glide through the desolation and horror and heal me enough to cope? I don’t know.

This is a mission of Trust. I have very little Trust in most humans now. But I can totally trust in my Angels (the few rare and precious Earthangels in both human and animal/bird form) and in my own Higher Mind.

I have always underestimated my own power, spirit and intelligence. I have survived so much...and when this body eventually turns to dust I know my spirit will survive even this incarnation of The Tanya. So what is all this intrepid little breast-beating Meshugass about... but just a whisper on the wind?

Ego. Integrity. Survival. I am so attached to my body now. Even though most of the time it has served me at the merest of calibration due to chronic ill health and cptsd. It has kept me alive against all odds.

In spite of shitty doctors, and stranglers and rapists. In spite of my sadistic family of origin. In spite of dis-ease and malaise and solipsistic desolation. Like a leaf on an updraft the woman in the dream was blown back to safety and if she can do it (spiritually!!) then so can I!!!

I got to thinking about my dream this morning:

The way the woman fell downwards then rose up to be floated horizontally then lifted above the ledge we were standing on and landing upright on her feet as gracefully as a leaf buffeted in a breeze.

It feels symbolic, like perhaps a musical conductor’s motion. It feels important somehow. I don’t recognise any alchemical symbol. Hmmm. The truth will out.

24 January 2020

I am decoupaging an old school case and came across this card Lynne Robertson gave me as a Christmas card in 1979. I was 14. She was 18. I love my creative wild friends. (Even though we are no longer in contact after so many years apart (me living in Brisbane for the past 31 years). I think I will paste this on my case. I could never part with it as it was such a sentimental thing.

A birthday card my mother embellished with beads and rhinestones. I was suffering severe depression at the time. It must have been when I was living in her house in 1996 when I almost suicided.

It was one of the few “tender” moments with my mother. She had no idea that she was often the cause of my suffering as she lacked insight into her narcopathy.

But yes, at 54 I am striving to “sparkle” again. As for the fish in the sea...just keep swimming....my happiness is not contingent on a man. If it had been I would never have survived that last suicide attempt in 2015 or the macabre shadow muppet display at drumming circles last year, that the gods sent me to after the near death experience with that foul (befouled!) surgery.

I wonder what the point of all that really was?! A strange man standing behind me with bunches of wooden roses he was selling, claiming he knew me, Dave looking on in amazement.

The varying shades of pink of the roses, offset above my purple top hat, me sitting on the ground minding my business, but immediately going into warrior mode when the man called out “She knows I am here!”

Me replying, without looking behind me, “Yes I do”. My nerve endings sensed the energy of someone behind me, even though I had not been conscious of his arrival. I saw the glimmer of concern in Dave’s eyes across from me.

Yes, my angels have a bizarre sense of humour. I will give them that! 😉

Still after all I have been through in life: the good the bad and the ugly...I know one thing. I am loved by Beings of Light and some fabulous friends. It is a great comfort to me to know that.

24 January 2019

6:37 pm today was another scathing hot bastard! I snoozed through the middle of the day then forced myself to go down to Woolies. Awkward as my former treacherous friend was on shift.

I just carried on getting my few groceries and checked out. Braced for her to start something as she already had the nerve to badmouth me to my daughter recently. But she didn’t try anything. Good.

Sick of callow false awful people. Heartsick to my core. But you know, out of awfulness something strong and beautiful always blossoms. You just have to cut out the dead rotten wood and allow new paradigms to unfold.

Yes. Seen it many many times. Let negative cruel vapid people go and carry on my journey to Wholeness.

Maybe some day I will attract better, more decent people. Or not. I am quite content to walk my path alone. Nurtured and protected by the very few precious souls who love me and strive to keep me going.

24 January 2018

I am delighted to see I have survived long decades of abuse to witness the dawning of the Aquarian age. The downfall of the Patriarchy and the re-cognition, rebirthing of the Divine Feminine.

A cultural shift which embraces the raising of human consciousness, via healthy pursuits ie yoga, meditation, mindfulness, and the exploration into ancient knowledge and the healing power of plants which co-create the abundant life on this planet.

It’s like finding old favourite slippers and sliding them on again to find out they still fit perfectly and are as comfortable (and comforting!) as ever.

The world is waking up and rubbing her eyes and looking again at integrating ancient lore and healing our modernist dying traumatised starved world.

Her spirit moves among us and one by one we are finding ourselves switched on to enlightenment. With that we shall co-create a better, safer, kinder planet for all that lives upon her.

I hope I live long enough to see the abundant bliss and good health and harmonic resonance for my descendants to enjoy. It is our birthright.

Watched Sensitive: the untold story. About highly sensitive persons. Powerful stuff!

Can’t sleep. Annoying. So gonna lie here and listen to the much desired rain!

24 January 2017

Someone has hit the front of my car. Probably with a shopping trolley. Nasty! I don't even know when it happened as today is the first time I have driven to the shops in days. I don't think it happened today. I only just saw the split in the plastic front bumper when I came back to the car just now.

Who damages someone's car like that?! Bastards. I can't afford excess insurance. I did not even do the damage.

Oh well The Tanya Curse continues...

Reading "I know why the caged bird sings" by Maya Angelou. Wonderful woman.

Sitting outside in the shade of the big umbrella. I cleaned the filter in the fishponds. The sound of water tinkling is soothing my nerves.

I am tempted to drive to Wynnum beach later, take Beauregard for a long walk along the esplanade. Maybe when it cools down and peak traffic is over.

The birds are busy chirping out their afternoon chorus. House is quiet in its solitude. Sky is blue and cloudless.

I am gonna be ok...again. Just for today. The headache still gently licking around the edges of my skull, not fully developed, Just a vague threat. 4 days now. But this is more just a pressure.

I took panadeine last night, but only 1 as the headache wasn't too painful. Hopefully in a few days I will be back in better health.

Trigger warning: CSA, Death

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Utterly exhausted. Disappointed. Trying not to be bitter about the way I am constantly sold down the river by abusers and those who align with them.

I have been thinking deeply about my life and its true meaning. I have realised how often I have gone in to fight for other survivors and how very often I was just used and cast aside like trash. Maybe I am Trash after all?

But you know I am proud of who I am. I stand up for myself and others, even if it has been rare that anyone has stood up for me.

My profile picture is a feather I found recently. Inside its pattern there is a love heart. Hearts full of life, believing in their own existence, fiercely pounding even in the light of reality that we are not wanted, soiled and despoiled.

Vulnerable and gentle, my heart yearns. Fierce and proud, my heart soars. Lonely and outcast, my heart breaks. But it won't die. Not yet. Hearts are amazing organs.

I sat at the deathbed of my stepfather (another paedophile who caused me deep shame and even deeper rage as a child but a man who after 23 years somehow earned a measure of my love and respect). How? I don't know.

Perhaps his show of concern when I first cut ties to my malevolent mother and he snuck around behind her back to visit me, bearing a gugelhupf cake, knowing I had no family and no support and was half out of my mind after my separation from being attacked and strangled, and striving to move forward and get my life, my safety and my tiny traumatised family - my kids and I, back on track.

So as he lay dying, calling out my name in a garbled voice that I had not recognised (It was my mother who yelled at me "He is calling your name Tanya, hold his hand". I looked at Jarrod (my hero who supported me to support this dying man who had barely stepped up to take the role of "father"). He nodded.

I took Cees's hand, (the emaciated hand of a former concentration camp survivor, now sucked of flesh and lifeforce for the second and final time in his life) and watched for the remaining hours as he fought hard, still trying to avoid the threshold between life and death.

I watched as his heart (a narcissistic heart that had soothed only his needs and his sexuality) kept beating. A heart that had needed medication for many years but still outlived him by several minutes after the machines were switched off and the mainline morphine was stymied.

“He is dead", proclaimed the male nurse. “He does not need morphine now".

I yelled "No no his heart is still beating. His body still functioning. Keep the morphine going until the last beat of his heart". They humoured me.

So I know something about hearts. They are strong Motherfuckers. They can outlive even your own brain and mind.

Well my mind was fucked from early Infancy. After all, according to another of my abusers, Angela, "a mind is a terrible thing to waste".

In recent years since my liberation from my evil perverted greedy Narcopathic family of origin I put my heart and mind and soul into dancing, spending my time with other battlers, Warriors, homeless, and invariably came across yet more callow shallow heartless people.

I know their stink so well. I embraced them. Fought fiercely for them. Raised them up on high. Glorified them. To no avail. Might as well be Chicken Little with the Falling Sky crying "Are you my mother (sister/father/abuser)?"

On wings of hate they writhe and float, stealing from my strength and selling me down to the bone-cracking side-splitting vultures. Fly my pretties. Fly.

So instead I fight some more. Fight and fly and dance and cast a spell of furious righteousness. I who defend other survivors, who defend and protect myself, am scapegoated and demonised but that is ok.

These people will never comprehend my intentions or my advocacy. Cowards and bullies flock together. A rare Phoenix bird must die a thousand times in her own flames, garbed in her own blood, sweat and tears, facing her own fears, and crack her own golden egg that feeds the souls of her own broken hearted ones. She stands alone. Looks around. Ruffles her feathered cloak. Drops it to the ground.

Hearts will fly. Hearts will fall. But noone will ever catch me. Naked I stand on my own two feet - desolate and impoverished, mocked and derided. My light shines even if you will not see it.

Humans have hated and betrayed me for decades but there are still a few who do love me. Who make my life worth fighting for. Whom I am proud to know and love.

Aqua flames extend from the heart of this feather. My life has worth. My womanhood has Merit. I will keep fighting for myself and others even as they piss like golden showers on everything I ever did or am yet to do to survive and thrive, to inspire, to conspire, to believe, to Be and to See.

In the land of Give No Fucks that sells women like me to Oblivion I am the voice that you drowned, the silent scream of the Aleph. I am not afraid of whom I am. Not anymore.

The cult of death and perversion that voted in Trump will not win out over me. I have already walked in its shadowy Valleys, and climbed out and looked across the desert of desire and desecration. I have unwillingly and unwittingly, whetted the appetite of paedophiles and abusers.

I have whelped the hounds of hell and birthed babies (both living and stillborn, my own and others, into this world). I have mopped the tears of dying men, predators in my own personal life, fought and cared for my own mother whose destruction to my life reverberates still and probably will until the day I die, even though I forgave and released her.

I have lost home/family and any hope of a loving partnership due to trauma and a warrior spirit too wary and weary to let any callow lowlife bastard ever hurt me again (then in rampant lovesick denial - even gave that false illusion of connection a whirl and a twirl again - and lost again and again).

But the dying predators called my name and the ghost of a former lover slammed his feet on my front steps and his fists on my door because my Love and my Light could not be diminished by them. In death they knew it. Perhaps in life also.

Regrets. I have none. But perhaps they had a few. Still they come to feed or seed but in Godspeed I spurn them to their small corner in hell. If hell exists? For I have lived it. Had it lick my face, and laugh.

She who laughs last, laughs best. (That nearly killed him, for oh how he hated my laughter, my joy, my fight). Amazing. The laughter of a woman in love, made him hate.

Another suitor once told me to "Get off my Cross". How I abhor that filthy paedophile religion. Crosses, instruments of torture, suffering of little children to cum unto Ye. We won't cum. We are innocents. We take our purity and we stash it down where we keep our rage and when it finally explodes out of us, it is majestic, beautiful and fierce.

That suitor wanted me to grovel back to the venue that betrayed and abused me, to that group of people that witnessed me being assaulted on several occasions but instead of defending me, scapegoated me. Evil fuckers. Then bored, with no one to torture, they begged me to come back. Morons.

Still some of those people trawl after me at the casino. Obsessed, much? I shrug and turn away. I owe them nothing. In fact I fought for them. Protected and defended. Gave my heart and mind and soul.

As all Wise Women do. Guide and teach. Heal not harm, but fight to the death if we must.

Lol! THE TANYA, Turning SHIT to SPIRITUAL GOLD since 1971.

Fruit bats flapping in my strawberry guava tree. What a racket! Bit scary hearing their leathery wings too. G-d bless them. Still not as creepy as Donald Trump!

24 January 2016

In reference to recent news, between G-d and myself, on behalf of another survivor. His Will is done. The smiting has taken place.

It is forbidden for me to take pleasure in it and I wish to the heavens above and the hells below that my Angels would bless me instead of cursing me with so much tzores I can barely hold on anymore.

But Thank you G-d and your Angels. I swore an oath to pray for the redemption and natural justice for another and I see that the Lord has heard and has delivered.

This gives me Hope that one day I may also merit the abundance, happiness, true love and good health that was stolen from me but I am satisfied that my prayers for angelic assistance have been borne on High.

Not for myself can I ask to prosper but I can take pride when evil doers are finally smited, whether literally or figuratively. Enough is enough. A clean slate for all involved. A new broom to sweep out the dreck.

May the Lord bless us and keep us and may his Light shine upon us and Bless us, and all humanity with Peace. Shalom. Amen v'Selah.

4.45am. What a night! We had a blast. It will take me 4 days to recover!

4.18 am. OMG. Awesome night! Even if I still have to walk to car in the pissing rain!

24 January 2015

6.47 pm. Slept from 7 am - 4 pm. Then went to Crystal's. Helped her move the Rabbit cage and set up. We moved the tarps. Much better now, hopefully the rainwater won't pool on the tarps.

Lovely peaceful evening at Mitchelton. We are now sitting in the bunny enclosure, chilling with our Homies.

5.53 am. Have had a hot epsom salt bath, washed my hair and am now chatting on Paltalk and sipping on a nice hot cup of tea.

I had a wonderful time last night dancing with my gorgeous friends! Very happy, lucky woman here!

(Even if I can't feel my feet!)

24 January 2012

I got a wonderful surprise from Margaret today. She'd posted me the beautiful Croation embroidered blouse she bought for me recently in Zagreb and some amazing chocolate with popping candy inside that really did pop and sizzle in the mouth.

Wow! It was delicious! The chocolate came from a factory near where she was staying in Zagreb...lucky I wasn't there, I would have eaten myself stupid LOL.

Rainy poury blah blah miserable day...but I managed to remain dry and serene in the face of the next onslaught of flooding. Poor Brisbane is copping a beating again.

24 January 2011

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons

humanity
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About the Creator

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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