Morning epiphanies on a Diamond day afternoon.

Morning epiphanies on a Diamond day afternoon.

When shit gets real, hold your head up and stare it down. Resting Bitch face is not for sissies. Or is it? ;-)

I had a funny realisation. Many years ago, after my ex husband completely financially destroyed me…I put out a prayer, a manifestation that I become successful or financially stable by my own abilities/talents/undertakings. I did not want to ever have to rely on a partner for my merest survival ever again, especially after all the vicious life-threatening attacks on my life!

I spent years dragging my kids through various house moves, trying to get us to safety and when we finally landed here at Diamond Street my kids acted out and moved out shortly after, leaving me struggling for the next 15 years on my own.

The will dispute during 2010-2012 nearly killed me then the final onslaught of viciousness in 2015 (this time coming from members of my former Jewish community, and a heartache over yet another false lover and other serious health issues!)

It’s taken me 6 years to finally take back the reins of my life, that wild untameable fractious but champing at the bit, Mustang Kwe has proven herself to be quite a Woman! Giggles!

To distract myself from the daily horror and traumas of climate change, COVID-19 and my inherent unwarranted undesired Poverty and ensuing trauma issues, I started making jewellery again this January.

I needed an outlet that I hoped might be eventually monetised. I am sick to my ever-diminishing back teeth of grinding poverty. Of struggling alone most of the time and of my failure to find real love and a tribe that vibes with me!!

So mysteriously I managed to gather enough supplies to get started and I am lousy at soldering so lost an important piece I loved yesterday… but I will begin again from scratch when I can afford the silver!

I am loving my life now and even though it’s still precarious and I have still serious health issues to overcome (cptsd, my gut, my sleep apnoea, my reflux and my skin cancers…blech…) I have indeed achieved a lot in my life…just by still being alive, like a tenacious little limpet on craggy rocks.

Of course I did not achieve this alone. I had close and wonderful friends support me.

In recent months I even found a tribe of artisans who encouraged me in my latest creative venting, working with flatware. People who are passionate about their craft and are happy to mentor others like me.

I never had that before! It’s been amazing!

I realise I have a long way to go before I can feel truly successful or make a living for myself: independant of the Disability Pension (so I could perhaps provide for myself and have enough confidence and money to finally welcome a life partner into my life on equal footing thereby avoid more decades of abuse, isolation, loneliness). No one wants a broke or broken woman!

But if I never find a true love partnership I am satisfied that I built my life up again from ground zero 6 years ago to the point that I am creative again, and full of Hope and there is an ardent passion for life running through my meridians that for once is not being poured into false trickster vampires and/or ever-empty life-draining lovers.

I am feeding my own soul, body, mind, heart with Love and Light and Bliss and yeah, I crash and burn and spiral under…a pernicious feature of my cptsd where I can spend days or weeks floundering like a flapping dying fish on lava rocks somewhere.

Scorched by my own ineptitude or loss or grief or shaken to the core over a broken fucking bracelet that in the broad scheme of things don’t matter as the world is dying along with me…but I can rebuild myself and my bracelet, and even perhaps find love and prosperity and better health and a kind supportive loyal community/tribe.

If not…. It’s not so bad…I can do this life alone. Have always done it. Even as a child surrounded by the most treacherous monsters in human form, my own family…I did it. I survived.

It has cost me homes, money, degrees, superannuation, portfolios, sanity and I even lost my sense of humour for several years…But the ghouls are all dead and can’t hurt me anymore.

Crystal told me the other day to never mention any of their names. As in Indigenous culture to name the dead is to keep their memory alive, to honour them and my lot do not merit such honour.

She is right. I come from pernicious evildoers fuelled by lust and greed and verminous treachery of their own children. I come from vituperous venal vipers of very little soul, with zero decency or honour shown me.

My insides just ache to think of it. So I won’t. I will get out of bed, greet the day and shine in my luminous delusional desultory salty “Success”. They failed to make me as monstrous as them. I am grateful for that.

Grateful to the Holy One, the arch angels and all the benevolent loving protective gods/Fae/spirits that brought me through with a strong and outstretched arm (Ahem…”nasty smelly Hobbitses”…had to keep me at arms length like my former lovers as they could not be totally trusted with me as I am a warrior goddess Berserker Bitch at times but I know my True heart and my spirit and yes, my worth).

No accident that my only safe haven was this little government home on Diamond Street. The jewels lying beneath my gnarly feet all this time and I did not get the message until recently.

Diamonds are forever! They are on the soles of my feet and although I don’t have enough to purchase security and they certainly don’t keep me warm at night…I have a Diamond soul created from carbon dating shit effluent family of origin and I was pressurised just enough to shine bright enough to be Seen by those who matter and be spat on by this who never truly did matter. The paradox of a woman of Valour, who knows her truest Value and the calibre of her deepest Love.

C’est la vie…Bitches. I am Back!