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Memories: 7 March 2023

My mother’s Yahrzeit (death anniversary). The pain has lessened somewhat 13 years later. Also her psychopathic grip on me. I am grateful for the Release.

By Tanya Arons Published about a year ago Updated about a month ago 10 min read
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7 March 2024

7 March 2023

Another hot day. Humid. I managed however to re-attach the fittings on my toilet seat. One of the brand new fittings snapped off, so I recycled one of the unbroken old ones. Grrrr.

The company was kind and sent me the replacement fittings for free but they are such poor quality they break before you even get the seat back on.

So I have managed to make it work…until next time it breaks. Working in my small bathroom meant I was lathered in sweat. Not pleasant at all. But I was determined to get my toilet seat back in schmick condition.

I also pottered in my studio, sanding back tools I made for aerators for my castings. 8 mm pipe I was given which I cut to lengths to use as sprue makers, or alternatively fork tine benders, or for making jumprings. It comes in really handy for multiple uses.

Now it’s 4:24 pm and a storm is impending. The air is finally cooling down a bit.

I am exhausted, both from the heat and from my efforts.

7 March 2020

Today marks the 10th anniversary of my mother’s death. It took a long time to rid myself of her clawing energy. Until her couch was thrown out last year actually.

I finally have a measure of peace. But now my own struggles with poor health have almost destroyed me. That and the Dybbuk-ridden filthy people who have made it their life mission to humiliate me in recent months.

But they are weak inadequate spineless bullies and enablers. And I? Am The Tanya and no one, not even the spirit of my dead mother, dares fuck with me anymore.

I have my own life to live. Joyously, triumphantly. Squeezing every breath and every ounce of goodness out of every day. Like a fine wine! Sweetness and fortitude.

7 March 2018

Today marks 8 years since my mother Gisela Scherer (Phillips/Jarman/Paede/ Meyer)’s death. 8 years has gone by so quickly yet so tortuously.

But I am free of her (even as I still sit amongst her chattels like a macabre museum of a life with a Narcopath). White elephants I cannot sell. Some exquisitely beautiful things that are just empty reminders of my mother’s exploitive personality. She surrounded herself with beauty because inside her was an ugly greedy insatiable Void.

I work hard every day at filling my own Void and darkness with enough Love to sustain me each and every day.

I hope to never become anyone like my mother, even though I look like her. Fucked genetics. Inter-generational trauma has sneaky ways of manifesting itself. In my life, it has been to magnetically attract abusers and superficial False people into my life. Hell, on Saturday night several of those false backstabbing creeps turned up at the casino. Bemusing.

I am so glad I have found beautiful true and loyal friends along my long painful journey to Wholeness.

Thank you Jenny for coming to visit me last night. I appreciate your love. Your hug was amazing!

Thank you to all the dear and wonderful souls that buoy me up when I flounder in the depths of despair. You are all a huge part of my Becoming. Becoming Safe. Becoming Love. Becoming trusting in life and other humans. Again and again.

My mother has no power over me now. Just a sadness and a distant memory of a daughter who deserved love and care, respect and protection, and a daughter who fought valiantly for an unloving unkind mother. And ultimately lost.

But in that Loss, I gained so much more. Self esteem. Honour and spiritual growth and blessings from the other paradigms. Also a car named after God (Ein Sof!)

Haha. I am not valued or respected by my former family of origin but the Ein Sof seems to surround me and nurture me. I am my Beloved and my Beloved is Mine.

Emet. (Truth). Chesed. (Human Kindness). Tiferet (Beauty). Din (justice/karma). Da’at, knowledge which contains both the hidden and revealed aspects of our lives. Reflecting upon those wise enough to see.

All flowing up and down from the sephirot and the broken Klippot. Rebuilding after a life of desecration and desolation. Shining forth the Light for the lost and weary to follow (or discover within themselves).

Blessed be the Holy One, the true Judge! Amen v’ Selah!

7 March 2017

Just had a call from Dad's lawyer. His funeral is on Thursday at Beruga Catholic Church. It will be a civil one. His lawyer is going to attend even though she only met him twice. She put out death notice and advertised funeral on his Undertakers Facebook page even though he stated he had few friends.

I agreed to have his ashes posted up to me. Even though I really don't want responsibility for him, I will give him at least that much. I will scatter him where Cees and Mum's ashes are at King Island.

(When I die Do not put me anywhere near those bastards!) Scatter me over the cliff near the lighthouse at Byron Bay. Closest point to NZ and far away from where my former family are deposited.

I feel strongly that Dad belongs on the island with Cees and Mum. After all is said and done with their evil vicious collusions against me, they belong together. They were obsessed with each other all their lives. Kismet!

Hahahaha. The child's song just popped into my head "this old man, he played one, he played knick-knack on my gun with a knick knack paddy whack, give a dog a bone, this old man came rolling home".

My former mother would die laughing if she weren't dead all ready! She always said he was like the proverbial bad penny, turning up unexpectedly whether we wanted him or not. (Deep down she got off on the fact he couldn't live without being in her Narcissistic abusive orbit!)

Anyway I once again get to step up to the mark and put him with his own kind and get some closure and healing.

7 March 2016

Today is my mother, Gisela Eva Margaretha Meyer/Paede/Jarman/Phillips/Scherer's Yahrzeit. 6 years since she died.

A lot has changed in my life since then. Hard to get my head around it. But as Lyn says, the pendulum/sword of Damocles is swinging less wildly. I am slowly coming into my own peace and balance. I am slowly discovering my unique talents that had been pushed down into the crud and dissolute cavernous mud of my life, mostly by abusive members of my family.

Like a silver fern I am slowly unfurling and nurturing new spirals of existence. I am sending fragile tendrils out into the Light, from the dark damp sense place if healing and growth. I am pushing through the crust of the earth, gathering strength and vitality and striving to ennoble my broken lone self.

I am singing the song of triumph over adversity, of love, torn apart and reconstructed but still an Art form, still a huge lumpy largess of light and vulnerability, of faith and desire. Of wishing/wanting/hoping and lassooing. Like a gold prospector with her pan. Digging deep inside of myself to reveal tiny fragmented hidden treasures in the Slough and Slurry. Never failing to Dream! Psychedelic Dreamer's Dream. A promise, a prayer, a portent of pristine probability and of prosperity and partnership. Pfffft!

I am sick as a dog with bronchitis but still fighting for a gilded future where my dreams are manifest and Love is ebullient and eternal.

Goodbye my mother Gisela. What doesn't kill you...makes you a survivor. Perhaps one day, a Thriver. You taught me well. But unlike you, I strive for love, peace, tolerance, and happiness that comes from deep sources within and not by using and abusing others.

7 March 2015

9 pm. Karen has convinced me to meet her at casino tonight.

So.hard.to.leave.my.bed.right.now!

But what the hell! Life is for living! :-)

5.07am. Home from my big day and night out.

I have just had an epic epsom salt bath as I was in crippling pain so needed the magnesium. Now starvin' mama so making toast with avocado. Woot!

I almost stopped at Maccas but decided after the 36 hours of exercise, Yoga on Thursday night, swimming, bodysurfing and dancing last night, that I won't ruin all that healthy releasing of toxins and emotional shit by eating plastic food.

OMG! Who am I? Who has the real Tanya and when will I get her back? No doubt there will be Death by Carbicide in the near future when my 5 year old inner brat kicks in. I love that Kid but her Dietary demands are actually killing me. Nu? It's a living. (That is her, being sardonic!)

Btw. byron was fantastic. Byron is Home away from home. Marvellous place!

7 March 2014

I have had a lovely quiet day resting in bed, dreaming of things I would like to have in my life, like a gorgeous genuine Life Partner and a more comfortable Life.

The Stuff of Fairy Tales. I have read a lovely book. Analysed my emotions! Contemplated my future while indulging in my Presence in the Present.

I am happy to say that, as nothing is carved in stone and as I have no idea what fresh delights await me, then there is only tonight to plan for.

I shall go out, dance with my beautiful friends or dance alone! I shall enjoy my Wild Exuberance, my zest on the quest for Meaning after a life of pain, suffering and zombie-like state. I shall laugh in the face of madness (as I have always done!) and revel in Los Dios Del Muertos-type Celebrations of Survival and Honesty for there-in lies my Grace and my Soul!

Dance away the old life. Stomp it into the ground. Raise up the Fallen, Lost, Lonely. Rise and Shine a light for others to see. We have the right to be joyous after so long caught in a web of other's lies, manipulations and depravity.

I hope and pray that the Right Man comes along who sees me as I am, a glittering Butterfly, transmuted and Free. A man who won't tear off my wings but kisses me and gently joins in my Dance of Life. Unafraid of my power, my light and my love. Sharing the humour, the passion and the comradeship.

A man who inspires me but in turn finds me, inspiring. Who treats me with kindness and respect and whose love is real and enduring.

I wonder who that might be? Or if such a man exists for me?

Dreams are Free!

Today is my former Mother's Yahrzeit. 4 years since she died. It has been a long hard road, being one of her daughters but at last I have found peace and a measure of happiness and freedom. I fought so long and so hard for these precious values. Priceless beyond Measure!

Still more good times, good people, good life to encounter and experience for the long term.

I opened my eyes on the world and french kissed the morning. Nup, buggar that! Still tired. I had a rough sleep again (forgot to take my seroquel) so I woke up, went out to let chooks out and feed the fish, now back in bed Facebooking.

I feel exhausted so might just stay in bed today, snooze and read my book.

7 March 2013

Yesterday was my father David Ian Phillips birthday. The man is either dead or still floating around in his Itinerance.

Today is my mother Gisela Eva Margaretha Phillips Yahrzeit, 3 year anniversary of her death.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my grandmother Eva's suicide.

I must say, I feel very peaceful at last. Broke but peaceful. My former biological family are long gone and can't hurt me any more. Such a relief.

It took a long time for my mother to stop vamping my energy, only recently releasing me. Now I can heal and create a fresh new Life.

I pray someone wonderful comes to share my new life with me. Be'ezrat Hashem!

7 March 2012

Today my darling Lyn took me grocery shopping at Aldi and we both bought a silvan berry and a young berry plant each as they were reduced to $5. So I planted mine out and also repotted my water lilies into a slightly bigger pond and got a surprise to discover my 2 feeder fish were still alive so put them in new pond setup. Then I came inside feeling happy!

7 March 2010

For those of you who knew Gisela Eva Margaretha Scherer (Mitzi Phillips) it is my unpleasant duty to inform you that she passed away today, 7 March 2010 at 1.05pm. May her Spirit join with the Ein Sof Aur and may her journey to the Light be peaceful and lovely. Amen.

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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