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Memories: 9 February 2023

The Eye of Horus cast to my bosom but integrity is everything. I am Seen and Heard and vindicated. :-)

By Tanya Arons Published 2 months ago 16 min read

9 February 2020

So last night, even though I was still fairly exhausted from dancing the night before and hesitated to go out a second night, I went back to the casino as I love Alter Egos.

As often happens when you have a perfectly wild magical night like we had on Friday night, the vibe was more sullen. I still had a good time even though I thought I saw Dave’s gf watching me. Weird.

Then of course, his friend Stan (true to form!) watched me all night long and even moved directly opposite me when I reclaimed my infamous spot (this is how I know he deliberately watches me as he had no reason to cross over to the opposite side like I do). It’s creepy and weird but hey, he’s been doing this for 6 years so I am kinda used to the general lunacy of the various regulars there.

Anyway last night when I got home and took off my dress I heard a “thump” of what sounded like metal hit the floor. I looked down but couldn’t see anything on my side of the bed.

I bent down to look but was too tired and unwilling to crawl on the floor so not seeing anything thought “fuck it” and crawled into bed and passed out with exhaustion.

So this morning (actually midday!) I walk to the opposite side of my bed to turn off the fan. To my great surprise there was a ring with the eye of Horus lying on the floor next to the fan. What the fuck? Where did that even come from?

I picked it up. It’s just costume jewellery and the metal is quite worn. It is chunky enough to be a man’s ring. So that was the loud clunk I heard last night but I did not hear it rolling across the floor so the dog or cats must have kicked it across at some stage of the night. Still weird though.

Then I remembered that some young woman last night had approached me and literally (and very inappropriately!!) had shoved her hand down my cleavage. Like right down.

I was wearing a strapless bra so she must have shoved the ring down my boobs or alternatively it must have slipped off her hand when she did that odd maneuvre. I looked her in the eye and smiled indulgently but waggled my finger at her.

I never felt the ring in my boobiage at all. Which is also highly unusual as my bras always hurt like fucking Hades (yes, even when I get the correct size) as my skin is so sensitive I usually get irked by even a crumb of food poking down my cleavage... never mind a fairly large fricking ring!!!

Anyway the young woman went to shove her hand down my tits a second time. I said “Don’t do that again, or they’ll all want some!” She grinned but I cast her my steely eye so she knew I meant business this time. She says “I love you!” I smiled and nodded.

Alcoholic blackout does weird shit to people. She was with her much older bf so she’s not gay but wtf? I don’t let men grope me so it always bemuses me when women think they can do that and get away with it. Gross! But kinda funny.

So next week I will have to take the ring back with me, even though it’s not worth anything intrinsically as she must have lost it in my cleavage so I will have to ask her if it’s hers. Awkward!

Her bf is a regular so it might have been his ring.

It is not unusual that people there give me little gifts. But usually they tell you they are giving it to you, not stuff it down your bra. Omg.

Also the weird way it appeared on the opposite side of my bed.

The eye of Horus represents protection. So it’s a sign. Hmmm. Interesting.

9 February 2019

My beautiful friend Lyn has invited me over for a swim. Glorious! About to go in!

Thanks Lyn, you goddess you! Xxx

Another day in Paradise. Another scathingly humid day. Sophie and Socks are lying on the wooden floor to keep cool. I gave frozen corn to Betty, my one remaining but moulting and still broody hen. Even the scrub turkeys are dropping feathers everywhere. It’s too hot.

I had a good sleep, eventually. So that is a positive. Sleep-deprived Tanya’s are terrifying.

So now I am humble and humid in this hot hot city. Bones still aching from the heat and probably from all the sugary comfort food I ate. Not good for my gallstones or my arthritis. But I am healing. Every day a new beginning.

I sometimes like to fantasise that my future self is going to be amazing! Why not?! One has to believe in Magic and manifestations, in beauty, bliss and peace and good kind decent people. They exist! They are out there! I am fortunate to have them in my life now!

I remember how we were looked down upon as too poor or not quite successful enough, or deemed too “mad” but now, (giggles) those callow selfish narcopaths that tried to destroy us are now running around in the night, stinking up the place.

Karma. Schadenfreude. I must put the brakes on my righteous anger lest I become as rotten and befouled and stinking as they.

Hohum. Life is beautiful. As my dear friend Lyn often reminded me, when I was in the depths of such despair and horror, I will always, always see or hear the end of the story.

It was a contract I begged of G-d once, many years ago. That I see natural justice, righteousness play out in this life so I can know, definitively, that my prayers were heard and that I did not suffer in vain.

The “smitings” came quick. Within a few years. And now over a decade later, I still see how the great mystery harmonises, and brings rectification and great healing to my constantly jagged, jarring, off-kilter life

I am grateful and satisfied. I lost any hope of a love partner, homes, business, wealth, but in the sorting of the chaff from the wheat I got Me back and some very staunch loving friends who keep me precious and love me.

I got to know when I tell my enemies, that G-d is on my side (which used to utterly terrify David Davidson!) that I am not speaking idly or making wishful projections. I really am loved and protected by Someone Up there!

Of course the Holy One had to let me experience a few too many ghastly horrors like sexual assaults and falling in love with psychic vampires but, even that was so I could discover how much richness and beauty and power resides inside my moribund broken duct-taped heart.

Corazon! A heart of a warrior goddess. But back then I did not know who I was. I was too beaten down and broken and death was all around me, inside me, becoming me. It took a long time to finally say, okay Death. Let’s do this. Let’s finish this langsam (slow) burning erotic Tango.

I wrapped my legs around him and drew him close. We writhed metaphysically for hours but Someone had to break it up. It was too erotic for them.

Don’t you hate those fucking passion killers!!! (I am thinking of my last dance with Marco here!) It was a long erotic goodbye. How I like it. No hanging on pining like a Bitch like I did with that fucking useless boring cold psychopathic Wiglet!

Oh Marco stalked me for 4 months after, dancing with Sigal right close to me. He finished how he started, an obsessive stalker and I just turned my back and wiggled my luscious old arse, even though I really really wanted to punch him right in his two-faced sex-addicted treacherous Kisser.

But I did not! I remained Classy and finally he got bored of trying to upset me and moved on. Good. Arrivederci Marco. I was not in love with him. Knew he was a liar and faithless. Told him so.

Then went back to my celibacy so I could heal my heart. After 3 and a half years another former lover (“Dead Elvis” rolls eyes..what is it with me attracting Zombies and Vampires and stinking rotting false former friends and partners?) slipped fourth base. But he resented me a bottle of Solo (oh the irony!) lemonade and I really did not want another casual using partner on my hands.

So here I sit. Free. I kept loving that Wiglet for no good reason but my heart is so broken it sings its own cacophonous song and refuses to listen to reason. However, I kept believing in myself. In time he too revealed his true colours and my heart went on without him.

Not many men can handle my heart, my brain or my spirit. I understand. It’s terrifying. I had to survive too many predators from infancy. So that created a woman who wants what everyone wants as a divine right: true nurturing safe wonderful Love. But I am unwilling to sacrifice my independence, my mind, my integrity or my hardwon innate power for it.

Nor should any man who truly cares for me, want me to.

Of course I am kept protected by my very jealous G-d by being kept in poor health and poverty as that is what puts any potential partner off. They want glitzy models with wealth and full vitality. Who can blame them? Where can I find one? Lmao.

Anyway, a certain fiery fierce redhead named Julie heard the call to kill my passionate tango with Lord here we sit. Plotzing and shvitsing through the rest of my life on this planet.

Thanks Julie. I think 😉.

We got this. I get to keep writing creepy weird shit about my life and dig my toes in the sands of time, while watching the tides ebb and flow, and some of you with bold hearts get to watch me do it.

Mama T needs to get to Byron. I need the healing waters. Summer is almost over.

9 February 2018

10.39 pm. Pain in leg bad. Exacerbated by carrying heavy cat litter and 3 x tins of dog food home.

Going to bed. Took last Lyrica capsule (to aid sleep as it does nothing for the pain). I can’t access my gp twit until payday on Tuesday so the next few days I will be detoxing off the Lyrica and probably not sleeping. Not looking forward to that but shit happens.

Maybe by Tuesday I will be pain free. Must remain hopeful and positive.

Anyway I had a nice day, knitting Oberon for Crystal’s friend in England. I folded all my washing. Watched Gaia and rested until I had to make a late night dash to Woolies as I had no wet food for my very hungry Beau. Also the pussies needed cat litter.

So all are sorted now until payday. Woot!

Some days are just wonderful in spite of the pain.

Laila Tov! Good night! :-)

10.25 am. Awake. Pain still present. But I think I am getting slightly better as I had a decent sleep (apart from getting up at 2 and 3 am). A deep sleep really helps the body to restore itself.

I had a weird but intensely beautiful dream about going to a beach with my elderly mother (of all people, ugh!) and we stopped outside a convenience store and met up with Lucy who had a little girl with her who I did not recognise. The child was tired so Lucy sat her in the car and I watched her doze.

There were pine trees all around and I did not recognise the area at all. But I insisted that I go for a swim so my mother grudgingly followed me to the shore. The water was crystal clear and there were many other people swimming. I entered the water and to my delight it was warm.

I looked down into the ocean and swimming lazily and fearlessly around me were huge coral-coloured fish (coral trout?). They were so beautiful and so tame. 4 or 5 fish were swimming near me. I put my hand down in the water and stroked one along its back and it just remained there in perfect communion and harmony with me. I was delighted.

Then my mother called me out of the ocean as she was worried about leaving Lucy and her little girl so reluctantly I got out of the water. I tried to convince Lucy to come with us further down the coast so we could spend the day together and go swimming but she refused. That was the end of the dream.

So it was both stressful and blissful at the same time. Dealing with other difficult humans is stressful and taking control of my life and swimming freely through it, being met by other souls without judgement or hate or criticism like the coral trout I met in the dream is blissful, beautiful and liberating.

Perhaps I finally get to go to Stradbroke Island again, as the Coral Trout might be symbolic of the Coral Sea and the colours and scenery reminded me of Point Lookout. Or perhaps it is another place I might visit one day.

Or perhaps it is just my brain cells dying as I synapse away my pain lmao!

9 February 2017

Laila Tov! Time to schluff. Dream the psychedelic dreamer's dream and awaken in another paradigm.

It has been raining outside and the air smells sweet. Lovely!

Got hit on the back of my head again. Bloody chicken coop will kill me one day.

9 February 2016

I do not feel well today. This is exacerbated after finding out that my beautiful friend died of leukaemia years ago, with the knowledge that the Yeshivah had enabled the rape of her son, then covered up the abuse by throwing the boy out of the college and withdrawing his scholarship. Fucking Evil Bastards!

If I had known I would have fought beside her and demanded justice for her son and for her. Instead I ended up mourning her at her graveside, throwing clods of earth on her coffin.

I feel so distressed and enraged at her terrible fate. She had been a good mother and had flown to Melbourne to try to get support from Yeshivah, after her son revealed his abuse to her.

Even deathly ill, she still did right by her son (unlike my own bastard family of origin who scapegoated and sold me down the river when I spoke out about my own abuse).

Linda. I love you! You brave wonderful woman! I am so sorry they let you die with the grief and horror of this, without supporting you even a tiny bit. May your soul find rest and peace and may your son find the justice he so long fought for.

I hope like hell he gets compensation and justice.

I have moved the Silkies' coop and hosed it out and replaced all their nests. What a task! It is so cumbersome to move. Now sitting in the shade, shvitsing (sweating) watching Beauregard watching the crows eat his bone and the 2 pears I threw for the chickens.

I put an apple in his pool for the crows to dive for. He got annoyed so reclaimed his bone. So now the crows are eating pear and not caring about Bobo at all. He harasses the hens all day long but seemed wary of the crows with their long beaks and arrogance. Very amusing to watch.

When Lyn visited earlier, one of the crows made so much noise competing with our conversation I stopped and asked him what his problem was? He kept cawing and croaking for a long while.

It was funny. The birds compete for my attention. I filled up the clam shell pool with fresh water as I was aware that the crow was kvetching about wanting a swim. Bobo just had a quick dip in it then ran into the house, racing all over the place to shake off the water. Nice guy! (not!)

Not very well today. Time to rest. Lyn visited and kindly brought me saws and gutter guard from Sylvia's clean out of her garage as she is selling up due to the bat problem. Sylvia has lived there for 27 years. So sad.

9 February 2015

11.54 am. Finally finished giving my statement. Now at Macca's having some food.

Nikki: What statement did you give Hun

Me: Statement to police about the woman who sent me 3 disgusting voicemails and has been harassing me at the casino and slandering me to many acquaintances. She will hopefully be charged. I am done with being victimised and vilified for no good reason. This time I am taking action.

Nicole Kenning: Good on you girl

Thanks Nikki but to be honest it is gruelling and awful to discover how many enemies I have at both Irish Murphys and the Casino. However I know I did nothing wrong so I am going to continue to fight for my rights to have a social life and go dancing.

I just got up and went to let the chooks out. Found Mischief dead. Frieda grieving in corner of the coop.

Very upsetting as he was my lovely Boy who copied the sound of my kisses. I have just buried him. I can't believe he died. He was not even 1 year old yet. No sign of broken neck or any disease. Perhaps the heat got to him but he was showing no signs of heat distress yesterday.

When will my cascade of trauma ever end. It has been constant for the past 4 months.

Dear G-d please take this evil eye away from me and return the evil negativity to its original source. Thank you!

9 February 2014

Crystal has my car and my iphone as I left it charging...grrrr. She cooked Jarrod and I a lovely spaghetti Bolognese and lactose-free ice cream thick shakes. Yum! We read our tarot cards. Very interesting.

I had an awesome night out last night with Sarah. Also an awesome Thursday and Friday Night. Tonight I am quite tired but happy as a chocoholic in a Lindt factory.

I've been bingeing on lollies...oopss, empty calories, and highs but am happy to have noticed a certain tone of muscles to my normally chocoholic flabster frame. Dancing is Good. Only exercise apart from swimming anyone can get me to do happily.

I am carless tomorrow so I might go for a walk in the forest if it isn't raining. Walking is good to clear the head as well.

3.31 am. Home from a great night dancing with Sarah. We left slightly early as her eyes were sore and my feet hurt so much I couldn't bear the shoes on any longer. So we went to KFC for a snack and Maccas for McFlurries. Happy day!

9 February 2013

My happiness quotient, 7/10, motivation, 3/10, wildness, 8/10, desire to do housework. 3/ I am going to go out and visit Lyn :-)

4.12 pm. Just woke up :-). Chest still tight but had a good sleep although I knocked myself out with a bit more Seroquel. Day is almost over but the night stretches beyond be rather enticingly...if my lungs aren't too irritated I might go out after all, even for a hour or two.

House quiet but lonely. Hmmm. What can a Wild Woman do but run or dance free? lol

Yesterday and this morning I spent on Paltalk and later, watching Wolfman. Keeping myself quiet, warm and rested to try to cure my asthma.

I didn't feel well enough to go dancing so will see how I feel by Sat night? I am reasonably content which is nice.

9 February 2011

Copyright: Tanya Désirée Arons


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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