Memories: 28 March 2023

28 March 2023

Today I finally burned my old hutch that caused me so much bother (bouncing off my shin bone when I put it out on the street). So that negativity is burned.

My hair and clothes are full of smoke and ashes…but it’s only smoke and ashes baby. Dead mothers, dead lovers and their assorted verminous henchmen can’t hurt me anymore.

I played music all day, worked on my little recycled paua earrings. Well, glued them in and polished them.

I will wear them with happiness and pride. They lay around too long in a broken state and I did not have the courage or confidence to try to re-make them before.

I have ordered pizza for dinner. I don’t feel like cooking anything tonight. I am in a strange mood: bordering between euphoria and a wry sense of revenge.

But the ghosts can only knock on my door..they can’t come in…unless I bid them welcome. And they know…oh they know….they are not invited to the party of my resurgent consciousness.

I am alive in spite of them all. To spite them all. No renfielding allowed. 🙂

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Today’s (and last night’s) meshugass. I recycled my mother’s old paua bracelet. I soldered on these globby bits (not very well formed as you can see) lol. I had to glue in the little paua shells into the round bezels. I have to drill a hole in the jump ring on the right one as it got filled with solder.

I melted one of the oval bezels. Oops. But I think I can make something with these three bezels. #titaniasrealm #recycling #upcycledjewellery #hauntedbymydeadmother #shithappensbutsodoesmagick #shecouldnotstealmylifeforever #toxicnarcissistsbegone #paua #sterlingsilver #loveisthelaw #giftingasecondlifetobitsandpieces

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It’s a beautiful morning. I feel shell shocked (or shellacked!) I worked so hard yesterday on various projects with varying degrees of success. I was soul ridden by my invisible Muse who had me in an obsessive grip. I felt powerful, stoic and although driven, I enjoyed my day.

But this morning…um…. Just blah. So Defiant Miss Five who knows what this meat golem most needs…Love, Joy, Peace, Connection, Kindness and sweetness. Who knows the pendulum must swing back into harmonic resonance. Even after good productive hyperfocused days she knows I need to collapse back down and build up energy again.

So my Kid decided I should put on music. She started me off with Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran. She told me the refrain of the song. I knew immediately. So on it went.

I trust my inner child…she has the wisdom of eons and the survival to thrival skills of ancient gods and goddesses. I never dare fuck with her!

She knows every cell in my body, every nuance of thought, every ache, every agony but also every ecstasy which sometimes she enjoyed along with me…More…more she says…you can Be more, achieve more, Live even more.

Shhh child…you know my spirit but you forget my almost 58 year old meat sack has limitations even though it still has appetites and desires beyond all mortal ken.

(The background song right now is “I am unstoppable today!) Ironic synchronicity.

So a bit earlier she reminded me of a fortune teller I saw decades ago. I can’t even remember which one? Which is annoying as good accurate psychics are hard to find, often wayshowers or guides in the maelstrom of insanity that was my life.

Anyway I had a vivid memory of the psychic telling me…the love of your life will die or leave your life but he won’t leave you willingly. I remember thinking what fresh bullshit is this? Which is it…die or leave? And why not willingly?

But then over the decades I had several sexual partners that were so evil and toxic and such bloodless curs they could not stand on their own dignity or make choices predicated on true love or nobility or even an ounce of grace.

So they left me. Usually for other women, who were also grotesque, classless and sadistic so in truth …water found its own level and I got to maintain my precious albeit isolating, marginalising “Freedom”.

Freedommmmm. Dominion over my own soul ridden ex lovers and former friends. Dominion over my own traumas, grief and abject despairing bathos and loneliness.

Well there was only one “Love of my Life” that I had taken decades to heal from, as he had been so easily manipulated by my mother, Buck Scherer and Gila Rosily. He was as malleable as putty, and as cowardly as a bag of pus which is funny as he had been a paratrooper in the Israeli Military.

A piece of excrement that I loved more than my own life and soaked myself in his shit gladly and kept that stain alive and precious in my own heart and broken soul for decades.

And when I finally let go after 16 years of suffering, not just over him but the other drug fucked creature I had consorted with for five years while myself, slowly dying under the influence of hefty psych meds (I had to be dumbed down and mollycoddled by the State because my love of Freedom, of human decency was Dangerous, Powerful and frankly…delightful).

This little short Hobbit woman was punished for daring to cleave to her truth…for living beyond the valley of the shadow of death, for fucking her own monsters who flew to her like dark shades of hell…and in some cases…like a harpy, I fell in love with them and even banshees wailed and tore at their breasts and wild eyed and cragged and hoary, brittle and with hair flying in the winds of fate, they grieved for/with me. The broken little girl that no lover man could love, protect or stand with or by.

That grief turned my veins thick and coagulated, grew Titanium in my spirit. But they had already been thick and dense and frankly, idealistic and stupid and that was how Davidson was brought to my life as he wanted to “heal” me with his magnificent schwinging faithless penis and his remedies and his cold sadistic condescension. The cunt.

I remember well how he told me “You can do anything, Tanya, and I am not condescending you” . A bit like my half sister who said “A mind is a terrible thing to waste” mocking and deriding me and my daughters when I was so wrapped up in psych meds hell I could barely coherently string sentences together and shuffled the characteristic Abilify shuffle.

Drooled too, until my nervous system broke down and they put me on cogentin to calm my involuntarily jerking right arm. “Abilify”….disabling me in every vector of body, mind and soul. Along with all the other medications my doctors trialled me on.

Until my current wise beautiful psychiatrist finally threw his hands up in the air and declared me “treatment resistant” and I realised…the treatments were the problem, not me and that Davidson, my healer, my lover, my giant schwinging treacherous Dick had been right about one thing: he had said I should not take psych meds as they are pure poison and would never heal me.

So the synchronous timing that I weaned off all of them in May 2016 in the same timeframe that unbeknownst to me he was dying was …astonishing.

The love of my life but also one of my top ten greatest enemies did not leave me willingly (smashing on my door as a frantic spectre for four consecutive nights in early June 2016).

So began my healing…even my former lover that enabled my enemies to rob me of houses, my rightful inheritance, that fucked half the Brisbane Jewish community’s single women, used and abused and even attempted to strangle me…could not leave me easily during his transition into the next dimension.

Then much later I realised that was The Power of my authentic Love. It transcends Time and Space. It exists almost like a lifeform in another dimension. It waits…it beckons…and it cheers me on.

Love is the law. It is real. It is powerful. It is deserving of kindness, respect, loyalty, faithfulness, honour, integrity.

But the soulfucked bloodless curs kept coming.

The last one haunted me in real world last year. Appearing at crossroads. Too cowardly to confront me with his bullshit face to face, man to woman. A sorry state of affairs. Pitiable.

But…he too will be cycling around me for quite some time. No man who sullies my spirit and fucks my body without honour or even basic human regard ever ever forgets me.

Sad but true.

Regards,

The Tanya

“It started out in neon lights then it all got dark…”. That song mysteriously repeats on Spotify. Driving home the message. Chilling….but Thanks, Ed Sheeran.

They find their way back to me but by that time…why would I even want them, or ever choose them again? Rhetorical question. My mortal heart is a stupid dumb cunt, but my spirit flies free and sings and dances….and overcomes.

28 March 2020

I am standing at the sink, washing a few dishes as they are gathering mass exponentially and even The Tanya must condescend to being a domestic goddess on rare occasions.

I am thinking of the character Esty in Unorthodox, escaping her Haredi lifestyle in Williamsburg and smiling to myself as I almost became a Gerah to that lifestyle myself.

Last week I emailed our Chabad Rabbi and offered him about a dozen or so, books that were Frum. Some were suitable to pass on to an aspiring convert.

But this time he did not reply. I can’t help thinking it’s because of that epic foulness at the Shoah meeting. Also my furious outraged emails to the Board.

It appears they have shared my complaints amongst themselves. So I am persona non grata and actually... I am okay with that. I have unsubscribed from their email list now.

So now I have 20 or so religious books that even the Rabbi rejects as they come from my home. Nu? I can gift them to someone else or bury them. No big deal.

Anyway I started feeling a bit thought disordered, thinking about the dreadful set ups (at least two in the past five years) and the awful games people thought it was okay to play with my life, my heart and my soul.

Not just in my own Jewish community but at drumming with Richard, blowing smoke shamanically up my arse by being overly conciliatory and even flirty, in the presence of my love interest. It got the results he thought it did. Insecurity, jealousy and sabotage. Lmao.

Then he ran away to Mullumbimby, thinking I would not realise I was being played for a fucking dickhead fool. But as my darling Lyn said when I told her: is it good or is it bad? I had to laugh.

Every time I get my hopes up about my Beloved Unattainable One, some foul creature - soul ridden from Hell - sabotages. So I did my own sabotage (of course, as it is what I excel at) and rang Dave myself last Monday.

He was obsessed with discussing Richard. Hmmm. I told him he will be back and he said I was wrong and I said I could care less but I know one thing. The winds always blow people back to me, whether I like it or not. But Richard has played his little trickster game. Thank you.

Now it’s up to Dave to realise that although I teased him mercilessly about him being a failure at his intentions to be a spiritual guru as he is too busy following me everywhere - like a stalker - so I must be the Guru after all, that I was only joking.

I have a wicked and rather delicious sense of the absurd. So one thing came out of that conversation: he admitted he stalked me at the drumming circle. I just laughed. I don’t need a PHD in Man or Life or Trickster Heyoka Joker Schmucky Spirits to work that out.

Anyway, I stood at the sink and I smelled a rat. A big fat doobie-smoking bratty rat. Someone else is trying to lead me by the schnozz. I don’t know who yet but I will be quietly observing until Spirit shows me who the next game player is.

As usual... Psy sighs...the only way to win the game is not to play.

I escaped from cruel perverted vicious former Chabadniks (one who dared haunt my doorstep in 2016) 20 years ago. They wreaked havoc in my life. Severely. I had to move house many times with my kids to get us to safety. But I eventually got over that.

(Scratching down the pearls I cast before schlemiels and psychopaths). You know my darlings, they dissolve in vinegar although what a dreadful waste of a precious gem.

You know that when mermaids cry, their tears turn into pearls. I love Baroque pearls as did my mother. We have expensive tastes in our family. HaShem counts a woman’s tears, or so the Kabbalists taught. And I have cried rivers in my day.

Torn my own heart out of my chest and pieced it back together and punched it back inside and even locked it away for a long long time.

But I digress...what value has the crusted pearl that represents my encased golden kinstugied heart?

It is of value only to me and the gods and a few rare and precious Souls who See me. The rest are just bit players and gamers and jokers.

But it’s all part of the tapestry of life, n’est ce pas?! I may have to unravel this story and begin again.

I will forgive myself for not knowing the foul deceitful sabotaging intentions of former friends and lovers. I never could believe that one little bright light of a woman could generate that much hate, envy and treachery.

Even now, after all these years it still knocks me off my feet. I had to lie down and rest today. My body knew before my mind caught up. Delayed trauma response.

I also know when I am being groomed and tested. Not cool!

Why can’t people just accept me or love me for me? Am I really that scary? I have only ever been my own person and lived by my own truth.

Is it my fault the rest of humanity cannot abide the truth? Or my subsequent rage when I am put in mortal danger over and over again?!

As Lyn said to me, wisely. There are many ways to kill or damage a person’s body, but it is worse when they try to kill a soul. (Paraphrasing here!).

What value is my tiny Berserker soul to these louche feeders?! Surely it is of no more significance than any other?

But then I think who my greatest spiritual teachers have been in the last few years. And I smile! Funny old world, innit?!

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Watching “Unorthodox” on Netflix about a Chabad woman who leaves the fold.

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I have been in service, in training for this all my life. Not sure where I am going or who I will be with or even if I will survive but my voice has been heard and I have been Seen and that is enough for me. How about you?

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28 March 2018

Nerve pain in leg starting up again. Asthma still bad. I just had an epsom Salt bath to try to stave off issues with my leg.

Time to attempt sleep now. I had my debrief today. My doctor agrees that my time on this planet is limited and he is very proud of me for maintaining firm boundaries as I cannot allow any further abuse in my life. I am utterly exhausted from fighting and fending off abuse all my life.

Anyway, I have my dog and my cats and that is my small comfort in the night.

I have had some hefty weird spiritual encounters last week and some oddly confusing “romantic” ones too. A gay guy trying to tongue kiss me was the most bizarre but not as bizarre as the tranny friend offering to tongue kiss me the previous weekend.

The irony is I have not kissed or allowed a man to kiss me (or have sex with me) for several years now. As far as I know, transgender male to female and gay men are not supposed to desire straight women for that level of “intimacy”. So what the fuck is going wrong with my Mana I want to know ?! Lmao.

Anyway, all good. Just men pushing The Tanya as far as she will go as they are either point-scoring for the boys or curious to see if I am all I say I am.

Interesting times. Laila Tov! Good night!

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I was the baby but like an only child as my half-sister married when I was 5. Mum still struggled to get my name right. Blame it on the Benzoes, the stress of working, violent aggressive marriage, wartime ptsd, and general schmuckdom.

28 March 2017

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My brush with fame: Celebrity Chef Luke Nguyen, with my friends, Jo and Sally.

Sally and Jo invited me out to watch Beauty and the Beast and then to dine at Phat Noodles at the Treasury Casino. What a beautiful day! So blessed to spend time with my gorgeous friends.

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Having an absolutely lovely time. I just got a call from my friend Jo who invited me to come see Beauty and the Beast and then have lunch with her and Sally.

My young couchsurfer is also going out for lunch today so I can sneak out today. He has been lovely company also. He is staying tonight then heading to Surfers Paradise, Cooloongatta and Byron. Lucky guy to be spending a week in Byron!

Ralph O’Connor: Sounds like life treated you really well today Tanya!

Me: This past few days have been lovely Ralph. Also my leg is much improved, still get pain but not as constant and intense as it was. I feel so relieved as I had been in agony for several months.

Fingers crossed my health remains stable for a good long time now. 🙂

28 March 2016

I wish I could afford a beautiful house in Byron Bay near the sea. Even renting is far out of my reach. It would take a miracle. But I will continue to dream it. Sometimes dreams come true.

28 March 2014

Shabbat shalom! Why is tonight different from all other nights? Tonight I get to visit with the actors from Sons of Anarchy. Tonight We Ride....

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I had a wonderful lunch with the gorgeous Lyn and Annette at Cleveland Point. We had Snapper and chips and enjoyed the lovely view of the sea which I have been craving for weeks.

After, I had a pistachio gelato which my inner child was quite smug about!

Now having a rest before I head out again, with Gail to see Sons of Anarchy! Yippee Yi Yo!

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4 am. Insomnia...again. So about to have a nice cup of tea, watching some foreign film. Hopefully I get some sleep soon as I have a lunch date with Lyn and Annette at 11am.

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The rain has been lovely, Thank You Hashem, but you can stop for now. Cheers Fanx a lot!

28 March 2012

28 March 2010

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29 March 2009

Oh dear, I broke Marlene's diff and now Courtenay and Crystal are mega mad at me...I am no longer flavour of the month or year. Just reinforces the fact that I'm a failure even more.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons