Memories:26 September 2021
Post traumatic growth…and possum magic in her box!
26 September 2019
On my metamorphosed journey to Become a new creature of sunshine and delight with desire and a wee bit of smite...I pushed and pulled, I laid low and punched high, I feinted and tossed. I lay down for 20 odd years.
Scarified and squandered by psych meds and Slanderers, stranglers and their whores. The most brutal betrayal of all coming from my own mother and her conman Henchman. But now it’s all over. I have new aspirations.
I looked at the video I made in May and was both encouraged by my bright determined message of Hope and discouraged by the almost-purple cyanosis colour of my lips. The blotchy red nose and the cough and the epic exhaustion.
Even in my physical malaise I still advocate for Life. Lunacy or Brilliance? It’s hard to tell...🙂. But l’chaim. I pushed through another day. Burned past associations of rape and pain and degradation.
Another day soon, I will probably close my eyes and burn the several boxes and folders of that fucked up evil perverted Will Dispute also.
Set myself free of other people’s envy and callow lowlife spite. Unfurl my lotus in a locus of supreme bliss and power that I manifested by my merest and most trivial Survival. Another paradox. The most unloved and humbled became her own Queen in her own Dreaming. Who knew?
I have my debrief tomorrow. I wonder what my doctor will think of my efforts?
14 weeks post surgery. Shedding and shredding the past. Cool!
Currently culling my divorce documentation. I feel re- traumatised and have a stomach ache.
It is a reminder for me to stop my foolish notions of ever finding love or entering a permanent partnership ever again. The only people who profited by my former coupling were the lawyers and Family Court.
My entire life was wasted on malicious greedy idiots.
Crystal rang me this evening and when I told her how I had spent the day burning and purging the divorce paperwork and two of Cees’s albums she said “Wow, Mum I am so proud of you for finally reaching a point in your life at last to let it all Go!” I was really surprised to have her full support. Surprised and happy.
We are looking forward to Byron on Monday. She is taking my car at midday on Sunday to get the car packed etc. Whatever!
26 September 2018
A few days ago I posted that something big is shifting. Well it’s here. (I think!) I am going to protect and love myself even more than ever before. I am going to only allow good kind people in my life (and auric field!). I am going to Become!
Beautiful, Wise, Happy, Healthy, Prosperous (not necessarily fiscally but viscerally!) and Free! I am going to embody Love and Bliss and release all traumas and negativity..
Gonna gonna gona. Goner. But here I am!
Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh. I Am That I Am. A bright star-being trapped in a Hobbit body with squeezing wheezing lungs and a clapped out gall bladder but I am Still Formidable, a force to be reckoned with and delightful.
There is Magic to be made, love to be made, inspiration and creativity to explore, truth to implore and the great harvest after decades of turgid turmoil.
I am so grateful for this day. A day created just for me. Thank you G-d!
There is a naked sadness coiling around my lungs. I discovered yesterday that my book is not publishable but it’s an important story.
I found myself repeating ad nauseum, all the traumas of my life and then fell asleep. Exhausted and depleted. Defeated by life and fate and my own inability to thrive.
It’s not so bad. I am only just finding my feet and my own grip on reality 6 years now after the will dispute ended and only 2 years 3 months free of psych meds which stomped me down into muddy obsolescence. I have a long way to go before I am going to be free of all the past abusers. All of them.
Some still skirt around my aura as even in death they tweak and twirk at my conscious awareness. Dybbuks in the roof of evil shules. I know no one believes me. Thinks me insane. So be it. “Insanity is a blessing...I am G-d” words channeled by my 10 year old daughter when long ago I attempted to make some spare cash in a market stall.
I have been thinking about why it is that I have been denied any chance of making money (in the workplace, in my own business, etc). The abuse that eventuated every time I tried to live a normal life (in TAFE courses, at university, in my business, at work in QPSA and other workplaces) made it impossible to sustain equilibrium or achieve success.
It is like I can only function on the outside of things and am only permitted handouts or charity (like a goddess who is fêted and protected, fed and dressed with offerings from the community) or kept in perpetual Childhood, dependent on the State (big daddy/big brother) which carries its own stigma and opportunity for abuse.
No one likes a freak, a misfit, a clown. We are both feared and celebrated.
Crystal is right. I need to stop banging my drum on social media. Stop advocating for the rights of the Other. Just stop telling my story which is impossible to comprehend by ordinary mortals anyway. Just stop!
Live in gentle salubrious incognate peace. Lie low. Heal.
That is what I shall do. Nurture myself. Cherish myself. No one better qualified to do it. The temptation to just end it all is licking at me. Covered in slime and drool from Death’s kisses. It would be so good to just Submit.
Yeah, but no.
I just debriefed with my psychiatrist. He reminds me that I am very much the embodiment of Boudiccea and in constant warrior mode.
He agreed that I am right to keep fighting against abuse on my various FB forums even though I often find it debilitating and distressing as it gives me a sense of purpose to call out on injustice/racism/misogyny like an avenging angel.
However he reminded me that I need to be SAFE. I need to honour my own vulnerability. It is not unusual for abuse survivors of my late stage in life to suicide as our bodies start to decline with poor health, and we try to assert our own power over our own lives (not ceding control of our bodies or minds to anyone!)
I have felt rather suicidal of late. Especially when dealing with the enormity of the current disclosure in the #metoo campaign, and witnessing women (mostly ultra orthodox Jewish women!) sell the victims down the river saying that drunks or drug takers deserve to be raped. Um. Say What???
If you espouse these disgusting views kindly remove yourself from my friends list as if you say such things on my page I will block you for life this time!
No woman (or man) or child deserves to be raped. Not a prostitute or a drug addict. Not even my most avowed enemies: paedophiles and child abusers.
There have been many many monsters in my life who got away with heinous crimes against myself but I never once wanted to rape them or see them be raped. (Break their filthy necks maybe...)
My doctor also told me he is concerned as I vacillate between paranoid sceptism and childlike naïveté when placing my faith in people. Budam tish! Got me. Completely utterly accurate. I have trusted too often the wrong people and need to know I am Safe!
I demurred. I told him I had never known safety except in his office and in my current home (which I obtained by isolating myself!) He agreed.
Safe! By the gods how hard have I fought for myself (and my children!) over so many years. Safe. Starts within with my inner Boudiccea who ultimately lost to the Romans. Hemmed in by her own people.
Well I must find a path out of this oppressive poverty and constant pernicious betrayals. Or I will go down like any other Berserker. To Valhalla.
26 September 2016
12.04 pm up and at 'em. I woke up at 9 but was so tired I went back to bed. Gorgeous day.
Waiting on my lawnmower man to show up after he insinuated that I WANT him for more than grass cutting so I told the dude he is my employee and I only want him to mow the lawns.
So um, probably pissed him off as he seems to suffer from a delusion that as a single woman I am just so desperate for male attention that I would actually hire a man for an ongoing maintenance job that would involve seeing him every fortnight because you know, I want his manliness and grunting machine as some kind of trophy.
If he doesn't show as his sexual Ego is bent out of shape I will have to hire another person. Sick of this unreliable bullshit.
I need my own ride-on mower so I don't have to deal with other people and their weird fucked up games.
26 September 2015
5.01 am Meeting the Sun. Don't worry I won't fry. Only human lmao. The birds are singing happily, as is their custom.
I have had 2 eggs fried in coconut oil on toast and a cup of tea. I am still so 'heavy' and exhausted but couldn't settle back down to sleep. So I decided perhaps I am hungry. So yes. That was better.
Now watching Falling Skies which is very good. I might head back to bed after an episode or 2 of that. I am loving Netflix. Soon my free introduction to it will end and I will have to pay but I will shuffle around my finances as I really enjoy it.
It kept me good company when I was sick over the winter months, lying in bed with my laptop, watching awesome tv shows. One way to avoid life, but still entertaining.
If I feel well enough by tonight, ie can summon energy from the bowels of my soul, I will go dancing, even though I have some weird muscle twitch in my right thigh that feels like I might fall down each time. Hmmm. Probably a strained tendon from last week.
So if I go dancing I will have to watch that I don't over-exert my 50 year old tendons and muscles as I mosh like a teenager, in my tribal dancing zone of protection and happiness.
Schmeh. All good. I gotta fly before I die, or die trying. Not logical I know, but makes sense to me.
Even though I feel so exhausted, I can actually feel the furnace in my solar plexus stirring the embers, so I know that my body is demanding I dance. I like to give it what it asks for, including the occasional cigar, hot chips, chocolate and Jack Daniels. It hasn't asked for sex in a while but that would be nice hahaha.
There is something very potent about becoming empowered in your feminine sexuality and sensuality. Once you no longer give a fuck, well, fucking becomes....transitory or rather pointless.
Unless you have a wonderful loving partner whom you cherish and desire and enjoy. Better yet, one who feels that way about you. Love is a dish best served both ways. But I am accustomed to eating alone. Ahem.
Mixed metaphors again, leading me into muddy waters. Haha.
As my former biological half-sister Angela once told me, my friend Jarrod and my daughter while condescendingly scowling in my direction...(another abuser!) “A Mind is a terrible thing to waste!”
Too bad! Technically I didn't waste it. I was just out of my mind for far too long. Still am. I have learnt to like my fugue states. (Evil snigger!)
Apparently after my suicide attempt in that long fugue state… I cussed like a wharfie that was denied overtime, held lucid conversations and was cheeky, obnoxious to nearly everyone except the kind Aboriginal cleaner who connected with me. (Wild Women, and Indigenous women 'get' me, Hallelujah!)
Find your Vibe and Find your Tribe. No longer merely survive but Thrive, Jive, Dive, and Love your Life. Or what is left of it.
Life is a miracle. (One of my many philosophical cognitive dissonances I tell myself to keep going.) But in actual fact, yesterday I saw the miracles of healthy growing sons, and beautiful flowers and beautiful friends, and gorgeous little dogs, a Pomeranian, and two Dachshunds (yes I do pronounce that the German way) and a magpie that was sitting under a topiary tree shaped like an umbrella. That was all awesome.
I wonder what today's miracles will gift me. So far, one sunrise, some very happy cats. Currently listening to Kookaburras laughing, and soon to let out the hens for the day. All miracles. Oh, I might be a miracle too.
26 September 2013
Waiting with other Plebeians outside public dentist at QE2. 6 am. I haven’t slept so might as well sit here and bide my time reading so I can finally deal with my toothy problem. Very angry and annoyed with myself. Such is life! Upside of the morning was I had a maccas breakfast of Hot Cakes and hash browns. I was epicly hungry as I didn't eat all night.
I was in a quiet euphoric mood then got really depressed and teary. So this sudden descent into despair prompted me to drive to Public Hospital Dentist. I can only hope they don't fuck up my tooth as they have a long history of doing.
Bullshit! Had to wait 2 hours and they send me away to come back at 10.20am for an appointment.
Woke up at 6 pm. Phoned friends. Got showered, dressed, went to chemist, bought dinner, came home. Raked up the bamboo leaves, watered back garden, pruned night- scented Jessamine, picked roses for my vases. Happy, hopeful and ...never mind. Looking forward to the weekend so I can dance to the bands again. I really want to be out in the world.
26 September 2010
Jarrod and Crystal came to visit me this evening. Crystal brought an awesome Chicken Satay dinner and ingredients to make 5 min Chocolate Cake in a mug. It was lovely to feel cared for. We watched "Pushing Daisy's" till late. Off to bed for some more schluffing as it's 2.02am now.
I spent the afternoon with Crystal, then came home and passed out on the couch for 2 hours, which is kinda disturbing as I only got up at 12.30pm. Oh well, back to my old routine. It doesn’t take much to send me back into a stupor. I'd be bloody upset about this but it's so normal for me that's it's just well....blah!
Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons
About the author
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!