Memories: 27 September 2023

27 September 2023

Another lovely day in Paradise. I took it easy today. I worked hard yesterday on the silver chain. I ordered a parrot clasp so I can complete it.

I spent the day in my garden, in my hammock. Peter came along with little Koko and she literally ran into my arms. Then we cuddled while Peter chatted. She made my day with her abundant love. Sweetest little dog.

I am watching podcasts and breathing life and light back into my body. Assisted nobly by the spirits. :-)

27 September 2022

Never forget what They did to me!

Prozac, Serzone, Effexor, Cipramel, Zoloft, Abilify, Zyprexa, Cogentin (a too-high dose which sent me blind for a few days!) Seroquel. (There were others too…Lyrica, Valium.) I drooled, I shuffled. I developed Parkinsonian symptoms for which I was prescribed the blindening Cogentin.

This was sold to me by Big Pharma to “heal” my complex ptsd. My punishment for not killing myself at ground zero as a child after the horrific pernicious abuse. For daring to cleave to my own Soul and life. For speaking my truth.

I can’t help feeling that these drugs contributed to my prolapse for which I was enhanced (not!) with a Johnson and Johnson tvt tape to fix my bladder. (Class action ongoing, awaiting settlement) and my enlarged liver and defunct now-excised gall bladder!

I live with a ticking time bomb for auto immune disease primarily because of that, but then let us not forget the Lyme-like symptoms from various tick bites also.

I was used as a human Guinea pig then victimblamed and gaslighted and yes, even tortured with more psycho-sexual abuse in the QE2 hospital when I had my bladder surgery and hysterectomy.

I had no value as a woman: as a woman with very little family support, no husband, no money.

I was sold down the river…again and again. Then the constant colonoscopies to invade my already-long-ago poisoned system.

So hell no…They have harmed my body quite enough. No more drugs, no more surgeries. The gall bladder one in 2019 almost killed me. It was very very close. I was on my last breath.

Well with every breath since then, I will fight you amoral dirty filthy greedy CUNTS. What was your next Lexus-and-holiday-home-buying trick? DOCTORS AND SCIENTISTS …huh?! More unconscionable evil!….

Ahh yes, AstraZeneca, Pfizer, Moderna, J &J I know you well. What you are truly capable of. Your corruption and greed untrammelled and unconquered because most people are too complacent and complicit and/or just too eager to be part of your elite programmed genocide.

Fuck you as you have fucked me ENOUGH.

You have killed our kids and our future fertility. Killed our minds and bodies. But when you come for our souls, we will fight you to the very death, if necessary.

My attempted suicide in 2015 was a sacrifice I was more than willing to make after decades of abuse, abject treachery, horror and pharmacological chemical lobotomising.

But my gods insisted I remain on this planet…why? So I can have my Life returned to me. My wealth returned to me, to the power of ten. My health recalibrated into a new normal: drug free, psychic and pharmacological Vampire free. Maybe even find a real and enduring human lover one fine day.

Someone not afraid of my preternatural rage and courage and integrity. Not afraid of my gods and angels who walked me through that hellish life filled with so many monsters.

Yes the gods were truth-speaking when they sent me back on 25/26 June 2019. It IS a hellscape of epic proportions!!!

Yet I rise above it. I am healing. I am surrounded by good kind decent supportive loving people now. I know who I am. I am not afraid to speak/write or cleave to my truth in this perverted toxic evil society, nay, entire planet.

The last few days have been magical, beautiful. I met up with my daughter whom I had not seen in several months. My best friend Jarrod also.

We had a unique experience together at the Shiota exhibition. Immersed in the grief and darkness of the Japanese artist. We played together, interacted with the exhibits. We evolved. We unfurled. We bloomed.

Most other people moved through the exhibits like zombies. Not quite alive but not quite dead. Empty husks. Shells of their former or perhaps even future potentiates.

Some stood back in awe at the three of us, all Artists, nourished by the darkness and the creativity. Gathering meaning in another’s life journey. Holding sacred the most sacred of all truths: our shared humanity.

So no… the Sudden Adult Deaths are no accident. The adverse reactions. So from one who survived decades of psych meds which did absolutely nothing to heal my cptsd (in fact I only began to heal after my mother’s death for which in the subsequent years more filthy disgusting enemies piled on like verminous carrion feeders until I decided to die! Many of these pile-ons were members of my own Jewish community. Go figure. Shameful it was.

Well I will not bear your Shame or your EVIL. I will Thrive and I will hold my sacred truths and my integrity and dignity until the day the gods decree my time on this planet is over.

I will Love and be loved by those people of merit who See me. I will stay alive for as long as my mind, body and spirit permits me. A zombie no more. Awake and aware and so very very deserving of all the good that is in my life right now and all the even more good that is to come.

Why? Just because. There are decades of abuse, evil, ignominy, slander, violence and sexual betrayals to overcome. DECADES. 57 years of it.

So I am claiming the next remaining decades to be solely mine. For me, of me, by me, through me. Of my own love, light and truth. Created by my heart and soul.

All the rest can just slough off.

https://youtu.be/rhaSJOf8T2c

“Cause of Death unknown - Big Pharma and the selling of mental illness.”

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Trigger warning: religious symbology pertaining to my faith. You do you, but these are my spiritual experiences. :-)

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11:11 am my angels have been very busy.

Recalibrating me personally…showing me great love and kindness and generousity. Love of the supernal kind can be a tad terrifying. Especially when one is unaccustomed to it.

But I am grateful and happy and standing in Awe in these Days of Awe which began early for me, several weeks ago in fact, with a multitude of benevolences bestowed upon me by the gods and those whom truly See me.

While other Jews spent yesterday in shule The Tanya worshipped Art by the generousity of her daughter and her best friend.

Art which is often an agonised truth held up to the light for free expression and edifice, a canary down the mine or a post-apocalyptic sacrifice or cry of a warrior god/dess gone sublime….Is my “religion” now. Perhaps it always has been.

Life. L’chaim. Be in the world but not of the world. Be your own unique self. Not a mass formation psychosis by-product of totalitarian hate and putridness. Choose not to become a Zombie or a “vicious robot”. Fight with the fervour of millions of ancestors in your very veins. The quiet fight that comes from non-violent Truth.

Hold your own life so Sacred and Holy and protected that your value is far beyond rubies, my Darlings. Always always..honour the gods/dess within.

Sanctity, serenity, sublime joy be OURS!

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I just observed that fb is withholding my grittier, more traumatic memories in my archives and only regurgitating the more pleasant ones. Ergo silencing my truth, or cleansing my feed. Hmmm. Not cool.

But fortunately I had saved today’s memories to vocal media so I transcribed them and updated them on there.

I share these painful but also happier memories for a reason. I fear complete immolation via Alzheimers one day. Also my life experiences such as they were, are important guidestones for other survivors to tap into…those who have not yet found the courage to tap into their authentic truth.

What is a life without our unique experiences, healing processes, joys, and yearnings? What is a life anyway? A soul. A shadow in a Platonic cave? An interaction of body mind and flesh in a holographic universe.

A glitch in time, a stitch in time? An anomaly? A miracle. A stoic stubborn determination to exist with beauty, art, love and personal meaning wrested from the desecration of our lives.

Only to be silenced or erased. Our living memories just a refraction in a tiny cosmic gleam in the face of Eternity?!

My daughter commented yesterday that I am crazy to curate these writings and memories and throw them up in my fb feed each day. Perhaps I am. Crazy. Pointless. Worthless. Dreamless in the psychedelic dreaming. The mirage of my very existence, quavering in the dusts of deserts of desertedness. Dry as Ezekiel’s dry old bones! desiccated and desecrated…but I bloom!

But my memories remind me of whom I am, whom I yet Becoming, who hurt me, who played me but who parlayed me. Whom held me precious and loved me through each day and night and sometimes each strangled moment, soothing me with gifts of love and support so my Dance, my Joy, my soul expression in this short fat hobbit body could go on.

So thank you to my most beloved ones who love me in ways that are inspiring, edifying and kind. Who allow me my Truth and never deny my reality as it has been survived and at times overcome, and I honour that journey. I truly do. I honour that child, that woman, that mother, that danced herself back to full embodiment. Alone mostly. But fierce!

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1:11 pm. Marking time with a passionate intensity writhing in my blood. Hail Odin! All the ancient ones that love us!

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https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0nFmHizYTxetHqb7AQxDbG9f2WhaXAhQTv2fApeQvPxRsYjfpC7oppVNFTQAuXs92l&id=1340840204&mibextid=v7YzmG

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid022nsEQpjgp9sSYwzNZLRqrX87F5jQLomCd1CcZxjkn8DaW8xbUx8JpqZJTWd5NQHLl&id=1340840204&mibextid=v7YzmG

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02Mag5RFEh1iHAKbxYqXPen1V4RkKYEHJAkpAJ56KYk9JRGYxVZ8onYPUfQjs62Aqbl&id=1340840204&mibextid=v7YzmG

27 September 2021

27 September 2020

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02QMeeEk5PbCApgz4KjbjCwAtFdV5WRNoq7ZuW2TEnn8WzAW7p17Qd3kTKMTVFKa8Nl&id=1340840204&mibextid=v7YzmG

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An article about an undertaker who “talks” to murder victims to relax their musculature in preparation for burial. The article has been withheld. Silencing of spiritual worldviews which I find heinous!

See below comments:

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Gmar Chatima Tovah! Yom Kippur starts this sundown. I will not be attending Shule. I won’t fast either. (I just devoured a Sara Lee cheesecake which will upset my stomach so the holiest day of the year (apart from Shabbat) will be spent dragging my ignoble tochas around.

There is something very amusing about my self-sabotage. I used to observe Yom Kippur very strictly (including fasting!) and found it very elevating for my Neshamah. But I have moved beyond all that now after decades of epic nastiness.

The Holy One and I have formed a strange kind of symbiotic relationship. I often talk to that Energy I call the Multiverses and sometimes They “talk” back! Lots of love energy in the past few days so I feel very connected with God in my own strange ways.

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27 September 2019

I am looking forward to going dancing tonight. Alter egos are playing. Their bass guitarist is delightful and hams along with me so well.

I am feeling calm and content. (Just for today and every day of my life from now on). There will be love and rejoicing, epic cuddles with my non-human loves and perhaps one day an epic cuddle with a human man too 😉 I knowwww, I know. Psychedelic dreamer dreaming again in her faery-tale-gone-wrong existence but hey, even a queen of the Fae must manifest 😉. Hohum.

The sea monkeys have my money. Rumpilstilskin is holding my lovers at bay. Come what may. A brave and beautiful soul will fight his way through the crowd to claim me. I will set him my baleful Medusa glare and if he survives that... he is the one. Usually though the one who survives my fiery wrath only ever manages a platonic relationship as I burn too bright sometimes.

It’s all good. All very good. Mama T burns with a zest for life and for her own glorious trimphant Becoming and if it means I walk and dance on this earth alone then that is also a blessing.

(Even if I do miss certain human pleasures occasionally). Ahem.

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Trigger warning: csa, rape

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I had my debrief today. It was fairly intense. I told my doctor I was feeling positive after hearing yesterday’s news that Trump is going to be impeached. (I hope they follow through).

My doctor told me that he remembers the day Trump was elected that I was extremely disassociated. I said “Yes, because I recognise a narcopath when I see one after being raised by them and knew how dangerous he would be”.

He also said I had warmth back in my personality as during the will dispute 7 years ago I was so very very angry and brittle. I told him I burnt the divorce file and two of Cees’ albums but found it impossible to burn the will dispute as for some reason I am still holding on to that anger.

I told him the anger is somatising as digestion issues in my body and I can’t tell, like the chicken or the egg, which feeds into which first. Lol.

We talked about George Pell claiming he is innocent and could not rape the boys through his vestments. I said it is outrageous as men can easily rape through clothing and I myself had been complicit in my own rape with former lovers. In particular the dead homoeopath creep.

I was so in love with him, at that time period, that I refused to see that I had been manipulated and raped and let my body guide me by vomiting for three hours afterwards. (My body usually tells me when a relationship or brief “romance” is dangerous and wrong).

But of course when I was young, I was good at compartmentalising and hoping against all rational Hope that someone actually loved me. They did not. Real love is a rarity. It’s why dopamine is so addictive and why poets/musicians/artists mine it, like louche feeders for inspiration.

Anyway my doctor told me I am a vastly different person to when I started therapy with him 9 years ago. Insightful and warm.

Hmmm I wonder? Perhaps I will heal in time. Allow an authentic lover into my life. Blossom.

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27 September 2018

So Mama T and the inner child brat went grocery shopping last night. We managed to spend $182 of my pension money. We managed to buy real food like meat and veges but there was a lot of inner child junk too. Chippies and Whittaker gourmet chocolate (:-)))) and lollies.

I knew I was being bad, but fuck it. I am skirting the edge of my own suicide again. Very triggered lately. Probably because of having to fight off that awful creep at the casino, plus feelings of distress about my useless hopeless existence.

But now I have lollies...yayyy! Death by carbicide and sugar.

So Mama T is gonna pull her boots up and be out dancing tomorrow. She can’t go on like this. Constant moribund suffering is not good.

If you see me being joyous and wild and carefree...be fucking happy for me. It’s all I can manifest after a festy fetid life.

It is a mark of my own honour and courage and exuberant desire to thrive. Like a jive turkey bat out of hell Berserker Boudiccea Queen of the Fae: whatever nobility I can embody.

I manifest my own happiness daily but it sometimes has to be eked from the abyss where that Albatross death-spirals into. Like smoke on the water, it can evaporate into that dark dark hole in microseconds.

Don’t cry for me Australia... I got this!

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Trigger warning: incest, csa

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Watching Miss America Marilyn Van Derbur on YouTube as recommended to me.

Powerful! It’s about her being an incest survivor.

Quote: “Most of us are between 35 and 50 before we can do the healing work” to confront our childhood abuse.

I was 20 when I spoke out to my filthy treacherous family. 30 when I first entered therapy. It was not until 2010 (age 45) that my current psychiatrist began psychotherapy with me to unpack decades of abuse that began when I was 6. (Emotional/mental/physical abuse even before that age!)

Another quote: “If I could not be believed at 53 then how could I expect anyone to believe me as a child?”

I was also not believed. Or rather, devalued and invalidated. Only my childhood friend believed me and tried to assist. My little hero!

Like Miss Van Derbur, my mother knew. She admitted it in 2000 when she told me that my sister and I were “dirty little girls who deserved everything that happened to us”.

I cut ties to her until a brief time in late 2004, early 2005 (when her husband made false claims and put a DVO on me ) and then again I made myself available to her in 2008 until her death in 2010 after she was granny-dumped by her step-daughters upon their father’s death in July 2008.

It is now 2018 and my paedophile-enabling abusive mother still haunted me on Yom Kippur, 19 September 2018. At shule. Via a Yizkor list! Such was the power and control my family of origin held over me. Even in death they still cleave to me or claw at me.

But every day of my life I express my freedom, my right to my own life and my love for myself as a survivor. Love I share with my daughter Crystal and my “tribe” of fellow survivors.

27 September 2017

2 am. A bottle of cheap but delicious wine. Belgium chocolate cake. Chicken curry and rice dinner.

Insomnia!

Happiness!

(Sleep is for the Dead)

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My lovely Karen is here. She slept over. We were woken early by a Housing contractor who came to assess the rotten wooden steps that need replacing.

The sweet young man promised the job would be done in 2 weeks and also randomly gave me his McDonald's breakfast which he had lost his appetite for. So I heated that up in the microwave and was rather grateful for all the gifts of love and friendship that I have received lately.

I had a bad night, waking up every 2 hours (so wide awake I could have thrown a wild party, and needed to pee 4 times during the night). Menopause is not for sissies. I am utterly wrung out but still happy that my friend is here and feeling very loved and supported.

I have a psych debrief at 3, so will lie in bed and rest my body and maybe snooze a bit more as sleep deprivation makes me hypomanic and euphoric (or feral!) so hopefully I will settle myself down without too much trouble.

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Hoping/wishing/ praying for rain which has been huddling over us all day like an intemperate recalcitrant whore. Like waiting for one big orgasmic release. Everyone's nerves are frazzled and energy meridians are stuck in limboic anticipation of precipitation. It's annoying!

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27 September 2017

27 September 2016

4.48 am dawn song. I have not slept much. Been in bed since 1.30 am.

I had a lovely afternoon and evening with Jarrod and Harvey. We took the dogs for a walk in the forest. We spent time relaxing in my garden. Later we cooked dinner. Then Jarrod helped me finish off the design of my table. Now I need to varnish it. I am very pleased with the result.

I am happy. Hopefully I will sleep soon though.

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Exhausted. Table varnished. First coat. Most of garden watered. Transplanted some heliconias this morning. Mower guy been and gone. Lawns look nice.

27 September 2015

8.57 pm. Just woke up. Slept 13 hours. So thirsty. Gotta make something to eat and drink. I had a nice time last night. Mission X were great as usual. I made friends with some friends of the replacement bass guitarist. Nice people.

27 September 2014

I had an awesome night out dancing with Karen, Shauna, Sam and Sam! Berst were fantastic as usual. I am now waiting for my bus home.

My feet hurt, my coccyx hurts (from moshing!). My neck hurts and my legs hurts. I don't care! I had a great time!

I won't be able to walk tomorrow but it is worth the pain!

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Wow, fucking impressed. Longgggg overdue! So just now, as my bus was almost arriving, a brawl was developing across the road. A voice-over announced that they were being monitored on CCTV and police were on the way to arrest them.

It was really trippy but I yelled out "Woot! about bloody time!" And the bus security guy agreed with me. It has become so dangerous in George Street they have the whole place under surveillance. I am so pleased that finally the govt and police are managing the CBD better!

Then I got a free bus ride home as the go card machine thingy was kaput!

27 September 2013

Just woke up. Almost midnight. I fell asleep at 3 pm. The swelling and pain from the 3 injections was too much. I hadn't slept and wanted to shift my body clock by sleeping at 5 or 6 but couldn't hold out.

Now awake with a headache and right side of my face still a bit tender. If the nerve in the molar doesn't settle I may still have to endure an extraction.

This tooth hurts more than when I had the front Implant and crowns done. Very weird. I must be getting weak in my old age, not able to withstand any discomfort. Mind you, this tooth has been giving me gip for months.

I think I will take a painkiller and try to go back to sleep as I want to go out Friday night.

27 September 2011

My roses are sprouting again and some even have new buds. The profile photo is from last November when my new awesome Brindebella Raspberry Tiger bloomed and I'm so looking forward to what she produces this year!

I need to buy some Sudden Impact and some more sulphate of potash though. My grape is back, sprouting lots of new leaves, which is a miracle as I thought it had died and I have heaps of raspberry suckers. So happy!

27 September 2010

I'm so grateful to my daughter Crystal, and friends who have been very supportive to me lately with my emotional bust. It's nice to know that I am cared about and loved.

Sylvia Shine: rest assured,you are loved and cared for,come on tanya,be brave,properly days,are coming,that's what joe,over-sholem,used to say,,in times that were stressful,and yes,6those day's alway's came.just have faith.love you .sylvia,job's comforter, x x x x x x x

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons