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The lady brawler

It’s ok, I get it, a lot of people think that I am nice and sweet and I am gentle and ladylike; lots of people think that because I am kind to them and I always generally try to choose to have a passive stance that they can walk all over me.  They don’t believe for one second I’ve had the life I have had, they can’t see how I can be Lady Penelope one minute and then a backstreet brawler the next and I get it, I can see why that’s hard to chew!

Because I have transitioned so far away from what my mum made me into, deliberately.

I’d love nothing better to sit back and be a lady and never to have to use fighting talk again, but when I do that – people take advantage and I am not going to let that happen!

I have had enough of being subdued by people who think that they are better than me, when obviously they are not if they can be mean to someone.

When I used to be thin and I used to be fit, I had a lot of admirers; I had a lot of people wanting to be in my crowd; did I bully them?  No, because I am nice.  The only people I ever said an unkind word to, was those I heard saying things to others, to put them down because they thought I wanted to hear that – because they thought a pretty girl is always like that and they’re not!

I remember my closest friends were bullied a lot by other pretty girls and some wannabes – my closest friends had a lot of problems, such as physical disabilities and one had a particularly bad stammering problem.  A couple of my friends were pretty, but too poor to spruce themselves up – I was a kind and fierce protector of those girls. 

This is one of the reasons why I don’t make friends with women easily, because I hate to say it – there is a lot of body image discrimination and I am not somebody who sits back and lets someone be mean at those who are disadvantaged – I am one of those who will be mean to anyone who tries to be mean in general to a person’s disability or physical bodily appearance. 

Fashion wise, yeah, I can snipe because why on earth would anyone want to wear cowboy boots with a Charleston cocktail dress?  I mean… come on!

But this post isn’t about me being a defender of friends or a fashion critic – this post is a little more of an insight to how I have been raised and partially why my life had been so full of violence regularly, even outside of my family circle.

My parents were rockers, part of the mods and rockers conflict. 

My mum in particular, in her first marriage was the leader of the gang’s wife!

Even when she left the rockers, there were still old memories sticking around even to this day some people will still challenge her, if they remember her and recognised her!

This isn’t all, my granddad was also a backstreet boxer and wrestler to earn extra money over the years and we have associations with others which I won’t name.

Amongst all of this, quite a lot of my family have been alcoholics or substance abusers and well anyone who knows about that sort of thing, can more or less tell, what comes into a person’s life once that happens!

So with all of this going on, there was always a reason, sometimes many for why people would boulder into my family home and beat the crap out of someone.  There was always some kind of reason for it.

Growing up I had to take a lot of scapegoat beatings from people who merely attacked me for my association with my family, some backed off when they found I was the good apple of the family and not like the others – but others used me as a target sometimes to provoke my family into reigniting their wars!

This is what I had to live with and accept!

I think partially this is why during my early adult years I became afraid to go out alone and I still am – I am happier and feel safer in small groups of people and this is a huge part of my PTSD.

But it doesn’t slide away from the fact that my own mother wanted to shut me away too – funnily enough not to shelter me from it all, but just because.  Because wherever possible, my mum used to try and push me forwards into any fray that was happening because it’s great life experience, toughen yourself up and oftentimes she’d leave me fighting her battles alone whilst she sneaked off!

She told me never to phone the police about these things, the last time this happened, I did, because the person tried to set three dogs onto me, whilst mum snuck back off to sit in her car watching it like some kind of blood sport and did so with noticeable relish!

So when people think they can challenge me for my looks or personality, or even think that they can get one over me by slapping me across the face – they are often left in a state of shock!

Because, this nice sweet, polite, timid exterior of a girl – fights and fights hard when challenged and I don’t back down, because to back down shows weakness and I have had harder beatings from my family for showing mercy and weakness, than I can ever get from an adversary!

I remember when I refused to hit someone with a stick once, four of my own relatives turned on me and beat me with sticks to teach me a lesson and I was 7yrs old, two of them were adults!

That’s what things were like for me, so don’t think you could ever knock me down and keep me down – I am too much of a fighter for that and I have a huge amount of resilience and stamina when the instinct to survive is turned on!

Thanks for reading!

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The animal in me

What animals are in my soul according to how I see it… what quirks and personality traits do those animals have that I see in myself?

This is my honest opinion about who I am, in my animalistic side.

My strongest personality I believe is the spirit of the dog or the wolf, which I believe are the same animal really! 

I consider myself very friendly and easily excitable around my favourite people, people I trust and the better I know somebody the more playful I tend to become.  I am also very emotionally insecure and always out to get affection of some kind or another, or give affection and be amongst my pack in general.

I am a pack animal who is outcast as it were, right now – I am without a pack and it is killing me inside, it really is!

I mean it when I say I am excitable around my favourite people!  I exuberate the energy of “oh my goodness, you’re great, you’re this and that, I love you, come here, give a hug, who hurt who?  Let me at them”!  It’s quite funny to see me at times…

Yes I am needy I suppose, no shame in that I guess?

I want to be everyone’s friend but the world seems to fight back against people like me, fiercely it would seem!

I can easily adopt people if they are nice to me, it’s my nature but also like a dog or a wolf I don’t forgive others who bite or bark at me if they’ve been too fierce!  But boy can I be a bitch (pun intended) if you hurt the ones I love and who mean a lot to me!

Like a dog, I can easily feel shame and guilt about the slightest thing, rolling over trying to win back the favour of those I have disappointed if I love them, like some attention seeking hussy!

The other animal I am like is a squirrel – in the right places I tend to have a lot of excess energy and excitement, a bit like a hyperactive dog – but it can be more extreme.  Like a squirrel I love nuts, to eat them but also I like nuts as in people who are considered oddballs of society or Bohemian. 

Like a squirrel I am a bit of an airhead and can forget a lot of things, because I store away knowledge and items all the time and what’s worse, I move them around in case other people borrow them a lot, so sometimes those items can be lost to me… forever… so it would seem!

Also squirrels plant trees, I plant trees too, lots of trees, I like trees.

Give me caffeine or candy or a combination of them both I start talking like a horse racing commentator and speed walk everywhere at high energy for several hours, laughing my head off!

And like a squirrel I can often freak out about things, like the worry wart I am!  When I am stressed or worried, I talk so fast and so high pitched that people just stare at me wide eyed and think rightfully so… “What the fuck”?

Paul has got into the habit of grabbing me by the shoulders after I’ve told him things and then looks at me calmly and says to me…. “Breath, now tell me again… SLOWLY”!

So sometimes I start off again at the same speed and he patiently says “tut tut tut, slowly and focus”… to see us together like this makes you think I am demented or something, but sometimes even I feel I might be at times!

It’s more fun when I have had caffeine and candy and I am worried or have been recently affronted by something… its full steam ahead then, won’t get sense out of me for hours!

An ex of mine had the right idea when I get like that – just snog my brains out and I calm down and become passive almost immediately and then I manage to talk like I have actually got a brain instead of a hamster on a wheel in my head!

Another animal I am like is self-explanatory – rabbits.  You must know me enough by now to know what I am on about here!  The innuendo of what rabbits representation to society is enough for your imagination – but it is also one of the major things which boost my energy!

I am definitely an energiser bunny!

You can also see the rabbit in me when I garden as I often like to kneel on the ground and dig deep holes like I am making a warren… I don’t do it aimlessly, I am not insane!  There is always a purpose for the hole, such as a plant.

I lied.  I am insane, don’t you believe otherwise!

A cow is another animal, I am very nurturing by nature and I tend to graze rather than eat meals, because my body struggles with volume these days, a sandwich is a huge meal to me of late.

If we had the budget my diet would be reminiscent of my grandma’s advice, 7 small meals a day, no bigger than a tea plate (sandwich plate), because volume is an issue!

I remember I thrived when I lived her, it meant of course I seem to constantly eat – but I was thinner for it and I never had stomach ache!

Like the dogs, cows like to go around in herds or packs and I do miss having people in my life.

I miss having a nurturing role, Paul has made my ability as a mother almost obsolete since I’ve become ill, he has taken over everything and there is a huge power struggle for me to become an active mother again with Henry!

I can’t even nurture this family in other ways, such as baking or cooking because of finances but also because Paul has kept the kitchen in a manner that things I need are out of access for me or the kitchen is in such a mess that it takes me three hours of cleaning before I am happy to do anything in there!  It’s not as simple as pop into the kitchen to make a tuna sandwich, because the tuna is in a section of the cupboard I can’t reach because of a mound of boxes in the way and Paul is much taller than I am – I am 5ft 8 and still struggle to get things!

Even on tippy toes I can’t reach the highest shelves of a cupboard and that’s where most of the snacks are stored, so Henry doesn’t binge behind our backs, but it also means I am heavily reliant on Paul to reach them for me as he has forbidden me to use the step ladder, due to my vertigo issues.  I don’t have a fear of height; I have vertigo because of ear damage.  I am fine using them, but he is over protective.

Like a cow, I like to be around children as much as possible and I love to mingle with others in nature.

Another creature I am like is a peacock, though it strongly depends on who I am around.  I am heavily influenced by other people who are in my life the most.  If I am around people where image doesn’t matter, I fall on the wayside with them and don’t make an effort because it’s never noted or appreciated when I do.

I absolutely adore people who are vain, narcissistic or believe that image is everything… they are my kind of people; they are the kinds of people who keep me to my standards!  But I don’t like the ones who make things too personal.  Yes, nag me to take care of myself, my hair, and my fashion, give me tips and advice, but don’t go getting personal about weight and things I can’t change like nose shape and eye shape etc.

I know I am overweight, I am working on it, I don’t need to be told, I am already deeply ashamed about that aspect about me without being reminded or judged for it!

There is nothing I can do about my nose and eyes other than surgery and I don’t want to be the Bride of Frankenstein, no offence.  Though I do need surgery on my nose, because I have broken cartilage that has never healed, but it’s not aesthetic. 

Also I don’t like the ones who think there is something I can do about my big scars.  Yes I know make up works wonders, but some of my scars go into my hairline and messes my hair up if I use cosmetics in those areas!

Always be kind in your advice, never vitriolic.

I love glamour, but I am not well versed in using make up – I never had a feminine influence who taught me things like that.  It’s something I need to learn!

Like my mother never made a point about hygiene, I learned from other people who took care of me over the years.

I remember when I had my first menses as a child, I was unusually early, 8yrs old – my mother gave me sanitary towels but never told me how to use them and for the first few months I wore them with the glue attached to my vagina and not the underwear – when I got my first hairs I learned I had been doing it wrong, because I complained to her about it one day and she called me a fool!

But anyway, I love fashion and I like to stand out a little.  But I do love my baggy comforts and rough and ready looks in dungarees and what not on a day to day basis.  But generally, I love to play with my looks whenever possible because I am a suppressed attention whore, I know I love attention if I can get it and showing off my latest outfits is one way to get attention!

I know when I was a lot younger I was very much the “notice me, notice me” type – but I got beaten pretty badly off my pedestal over the years.

I refuse to believe that as I get older my ability to be a peacock is less and less obtainable, I mean just look at some of the classic stars in Hollywood still bombing around at their best at ninety!

There’s life in the old dog yet, lol what am I saying?  I am only forty!

Growing up I loved the egotistical and I have a playlist called “Vanity” where I have all sorts of songs on it, one of them happens to be the theme tune “Sexy boy” from the wrestler Shawn Michaels – “eat your heart out girls, hands off the merchandise”!  I had Shawn Michaels as a pin up in my bedroom but the bigger poster I had was his quote rather than him “IMAGE IS EVERYTHING”!

Gosh, if I hadn’t of been brutalised, what would I have been like right now as a person?

Though I say all this, yet I am nothing like how I want to be right now – I am a shocking mess, enough to make the true inner me heave whenever I look in the mirror.  But I do feel – why bother when nobody cares and you’re just spending money on your looks that you can’t afford?

I spruce myself up occasionally but it doesn’t get a reaction from anyone around here, not even Paul.

I am embarrassed to say, my depression got so bad in 2016 I found it hard to get the motivation to do basic things like brush my hair etc. around the house – I wasn’t going out as I was bedbound and so often times I didn’t bother.  It made me go around the twist a bit and I think I went stir crazy, because one day I woke up and decided to literally buzz cut my hair clean off!

With the alopecia I have, I am near wanting to do that again, but scared I’ll regret it, especially as my hair is long now and it’s becoming a pacifier for me to brush my hair through with my fingers when I feel insecure.

I think I am also like a snake – it hurts to admit this, because my mother used to call me that a lot when I was growing up and made me feel guilt, shame and disgust for it. 

Why do I think I am like a snake?

Because when someone hurts me, I am quieter than I used to be – I am more observant and I tend to strike at their weakest moment and strike hard!

I think I am a snake because like a snake I sit in the grass watching my attackers, seeing what they are doing to me or trying to do to me and I am calculating… calculating their next move, then WHAM!  I find out their weakness and it’s not pretty. 

I have always been the quiet observer – as my auntie always said “you’ve got to watch the quiet ones”, she kept warning people not to push me too far as I am one they’ve got to be more careful of!

A snake isn’t untrustworthy; it’s a misunderstood creature because it has a superior intelligence for survival, which is unique in the world.  Because they do strike when you least expect it, because you never respected the snake, you underestimated it – you thought it was small and helpless and an easy touch – but the snake will always show you!

If someone criticises me and I give a small strained smile and go quiet, just understand, you’ve hurt me more than you think.  I tend not to be vocal about my hurt feelings too much with people I hardly know.

But also that same smile can be confusing I guess – because it is the same smile I have when I feel anxious or not very confident.

I am also like an elephant… I never forget – I forgive sometimes – but I never forget and I will always make sure you never forget either, if you’ve ever hurt me!

I am also big and a klutz and I survive with my hearing loss because I rely on vibrations, like elephants do!  I also don’t know my own strength, I am unusually strong really.

I mean, before I got sick I could carry a two hundred a fifty pound man over my shoulder!

I used to have big aspirations as a glamazon strength contest woman, this was a thing in the early 2000s in the UK – like the strongest women in the world contest but they were also glamour pusses too!  Not all of them had grotesquely huge muscles; some looked like normal women, but could bench press three hundred or more pounds.

I got out of that ambition when I was 21 because men found it a turn off.

I still kind of dream about doing something similar again, like I used to dream about being a gladiator or a contestant on that show or a female professional wrestler, yes, these are genuine past ambitions I once had!

I loved fitness a lot and it is something I really want to get back into again in a big way – but again, without other like-minded folk in my life, it’s hard to motivate myself!

I like to think that I could get fit enough again where I could potentially do those things in the future and maybe go on the new show Apocalypse Wow too!

But I can be a bit rough with people and I have been known to break the stems of wine glasses by holding them too tight – really I sometimes wonder if I am half orc or something!

I look big and muscular whether overweight or not and people are often shocked when they hear me talk when I feel anxious or shy, because… yeah… my voice doesn’t match my physique and no… I do not have an annoyingly high pitched voice… I have a really strange calm, soothing voice by all accounts that sounds slightly young, but it’s not high pitched unless I am excited or angry.

The closest British actress I can think of that has a voice similar to me is Camille Codari, she is definitely a close sound alike – Americans will probably know her from the John Goodman and Peter O’Toole movie King Ralph!  But also Jackie Tyler from Dr Who; I can be a sociopath at times and put on voices depending on the situation, I am self-conscious of my childish common natural voice, so I do try and suppress it a lot.

My grandma did a lot of elocution lessons on me as I was growing up and so I do know how to talk more mature and aristocratic when I need to and keep it up for quite some time!  It was an essential survival tactic I needed as I was growing up in mixed religious and class cultures.

I can put on a voice that does suit my looks but it is the kind of voice that gets you noticed in public and I don’t like that – it’s a rough and ready school ma’am type of voice, that sounds like I won’t have any funny business!  Lol!  That voice can sound reminiscent of Pam Ferris or Martita Hunt, scary contrast if you ask me!

But there you go me in animal form.

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Beauty, dance, and gratefulness

A handful of friends have sent me DMs recently about my deadline.  I have to agree to take their advice and not push for it, because in the past two weeks in particular life here has been hard on me and I have found it difficult to focus on reading anything, let alone writing anything.

Henry is has recently had an emergency assessment to test for autism because his behaviour is worsening at school, at the moment they decline to say much about their findings because they feel they need to do another one or two assessments on him before they are sure.

Along with this, as you all are probably aware of, Paul and I are separating; which is a surprise really, because around 2015 we more or less decided to stick with each other, despite our relationship only meaning to be temporary.

We don’t know when we will decide to live apart as I have discussed recently, but it is on the cards.

Along with this I am trying my hardest to get into shape and lose weight, so I have more confidence in myself when I start a new relationship.

I really wanted to debut a book by summer, which is why I wanted to approach an agent on the 21st October, however, I have too much going on right now to do it and along with it all, the idea of YouTube may also be a failing start for January too; because my future is very uncertain right now.

I am also very confused by people behaviours online recently.  Since alerting my readers of my separation with Paul, I have been getting a lot of attention in DMs.  I suppose it’s not so confusing as I have more or less announced my availability, but what is confusing is the dominance some people are portraying in their emails to me from the off-set.  Like whom do they think they are?

It started with the email from a well-known author to Paul, I won’t mention names, but he is pretty big as far as authors go.  According to Paul this author had asked him outright whether or not we genuinely are in an open relationship and if it is OK for him to approach me for a relationship someday?  Paul said of course.

Though this author has not approached me in any other way other than being a sort of friendly online acquaintance, I felt it was cheeky to do that and especially behind my back!

He has a blue tick on twitter, so it’s the genuine article, but he is not the only person who has approached this recently with me. 

Unfortunately I feel some pressure by this person to finish my AD project in particular as they believe they’ve cottoned on to my plot with my hints and has got inspired to make something very similar if I am not quick enough; unfortunately, they’ve kind of guessed correctly what my story might be. or so, Paul has told me someone who is associated with this author has told him.

I don’t know whether or not Paul is just rocking the boat telling me these things, because he was initially afraid of losing me, but more recently he has found a new lady himself and doesn’t seem to think that what he told me in the past is anything to worry about, now.

I really don’t like cloak and daggers and underhanded stuff and I am getting rather uncomfortable with it all.

But if what Paul has said is true, then this author will be starting the idea around March apparently, which is why I feel the pressure to write this quickly, because its a series.

For now, all I want to do is focus on is my fitness, trimming down and getting my head together, whilst still trying to write a tiny bit per day towards any current project.  Maybe read a book once a fortnight, the reading has slowed down immensely.

But I am trying to find my true self. 

My true self, since a very young child – kindergarten almost, has always had a massive love for fashion and glamour.  For short bursts throughout my life, I have tried to get into it all big time – but there was always someone getting in my way and stopping me, usually my mother.

My mother is out of my life right now, so I feel free to be as vain and beautiful as I want, in the manner I want.

I loved the book “Matilda” by Roald Dahl as a child and in there is a quote where they say that there are two types of women in the world those that choose looks and those that chose books. 

Most of my life I chose books, purely as a means of escapism.  Had I have had a more stable life I would be more focused on looks and entertainment of other kinds, such as singing or acting.

All I know is that I am a huge daydreamer. 

I can’t help but think of great stories all of the time, often at the drop of a hat – but I have little interest in making them books, I want them to be on the screen somehow.  It has always been my primary goal.

My idea of the best kind of entertainment is visual and audio.  I read a lot, yes, but mostly to learn, I don’t really read for the amusement of it – I am just knowledge hungry, that’s all.

I really don’t think I’d be as much of a gaming or science geek as I am today, had I have been raised primarily by say – my honorary auntie Sheila or my grandmother for example.

I know had I of been raised by my paternal grandmother she’d have made me go into the equestrian gymkhana groups and gymnastics and all sorts of things like that.  She’d have fully supported my sports goals in swimming and judo and would have pushed me into other things to socialise a lot with the better classes as she’d put it; Potentially making me become a singer or an actress along with it, because she often tried to encourage me to go with my aunts to their amateur theatres to be a part of their little comedies, but at the time I was bullied out of it by being fat shamed by my mum.

I really wanted more of the life my grandmother wanted for me, as it reflected what my dad wanted for me too, but mum never supported any of it.

All my life I have envied women in gymnastics in particular.

As an adult my grandmother learned I had a passion for watching dance shows and that I really wanted to learn to dance and she arranged for me to go to Ealing to become taught by a famous dancer called Anton Du Beke.  When my mum found out I was going to go to it, she gave me a nasty ultimatum, go to this school for dance or lose the internet.  At the time I had an Ebay business and I had a lot of online friends, so losing the internet was not an option for me, so she had got her way.

I have always wanted to learn to tango, especially with a life partner, because I have a lot of passion in me and I really would love a relationship like Morticia and Gomez Addams. 

It’s a goal I have still, once fit enough I will go to find a school for the tango.  Or if I become a published author and famous enough I’d practically beg “strictly come dancing” to let me be a celebrity contestant!

But ultimately, my stories should be on the screen and should also be merchandise as a lot of my ideas are not only horror, but mostly for the family entertainment industry.  Horror is lessening these days as I am thinking of more light-hearted fantasy stories.  Sure, project AD is a dystopian, but it has anthropomorphic characters, children and comedy in it, which lightens the mood immensely.

Even if I am only writing a paragraph per day at least it’s getting done.  But for now, I can’t do much more than that because there are a lot of explosive arguments going on about me, mostly between Henry and Paul but lately, Paul is starting to drain me with his noticeable irritations, because he feels as trapped as I do.

I am just in the way.  That is not something I want to feel when I am still quite emotionally vulnerable and could at any moment decide to seek out the medicine box.  I mean, other than Henry and a rabbit, what I have I got to live for?

Paul and Henry have already decided between themselves that Henry will stay with Paul not me, so I won’t even have Henry as an excuse to stay alive soon; Just the rabbit, and he is 5yrs old on his next birthday.  He is also the last birthday present I’ve ever received since we fell into poverty, that’s if I am not including the regular chocolate bars I’ve got between then and now.

Still, shouldn’t be ungrateful.

Happy reading!

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The dream me

In my dreams I am not me

My hair is white and crimply

It shines like glitter in the light

My eyes like topaz shines in the night

I am dressed in white with a gold band

And there stands my gentleman with me hand in hand

I’m not fat in those dreams of mine

I am slim and lithe and look so fine

I am like a fairy of the night

In my dreams a beautiful sight

When I wake and in the mirror see

That I am not who I want to be

It’s like a horror story unfolding

This real body of mine needs some moulding

So this is why I work so hard

To try and fight off all the lard

And someday I will happy be

When I look in the mirror to see me

This poem was a long time coming. I really do have dreams where I look like that, I am pretty sure its what my soul looks like; but my real body is literally its polar opposite.

What I find weird about all of this is that when I was a baby till I was 6yrs old my hair was white just like that and I was underweight, then suddenly I got dark and piled on the pounds.

So weird, it was around the time my hair went dark that my mother started to turn against me. I think she thought I’d always be like that.

Today, I feel glamorous and playful. I might be in one of those days of being undecided what to wear. But I do feel like its a red day for me and I would probably make more effort in putting on make up and doing my hair today, if I could afford the cosmetics.

I also feel sexier than normal, so I would opt for split skirts and cleavage boosting clothing and sexy boots.

I’d probably wear daring make up too, I feel daring today.

I know into yesterday evening my looks for the day started to change into the idea of being a peachy or cerise kawaii. That often happens, I shift my ideas of fashion some days where I would want to be two or three things at various times in the day.

But today it’s sexy red clothing, like some kind of silky vampire, with silky clingy knee high sexy boots and vampiric make up. Figure permitting! This is an idealism if I had a body to match my vision.

Instead I sort of look like a saucy sailor.

Happy reading!

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Existentially challenged

For a woman I am strange, I think anybody who knows me in real life will validate that.

But what exactly do I mean by strange?

Perhaps I mean dorky, weird, and eccentric but also some people have labelled me as confused or having a split personality.

I might do, though I prefer the stance that I am existentially challenged.

I am a female, that occasionally wakes up and wishes for just that particular day to be a man, but it’s only occasional.  On another day I will wake up and want to be kawaii or gothic, or a child or an adult, or anything as the feeling grabs me and it is often a part of my depression when I can’t morph my body into how I feel for the day.

Mostly though, I want to be tall and strong athletic looking woman and have perfect long straight brunette hair in a long plait, wearing a tight white camisole and black jeans and heeled boots and don’t have the need to wear spectacles.

But alas, I am fat and hideous, my hair is the colour of straw with flecks of white and I indeed need spectacles.

Image aside, this isn’t what I meant when I first started the post.

What I wanted to say is that, I am strange because I am like an old fashioned man, or rather an old man.  I say this, because some people online believe I am not a woman at all, but I am.  I am just a weird one that’s all.

I was a weird little girl too. 

I was a bug catching little girl, who had pet snails that escaped in the night in my bedroom sliming the walls in the morning, creeping my OCD clean freak mother out with the things she’d find hiding in my room every morning.  One day she found a squirrel I had tamed, sitting on the desk looking like it owned the place and it screamed at her when she screamed at it.

I was a frog catching little girl too and I’d scrump my neighbour’s apples, well, I used to pick my neighbours apples from their tree that was above my swing, which she allowed – to be a true scrumper meant I stole without permission, but that wasn’t the case.

As a child my biggest emotional and creative influence was my dad and two male cousins.  As a child I had more male friends than female and as a child I loved things that most little girls shy away from.

I was the little girl who asked for matchbox cars at Christmas, Gremlin and monster toys, scalextrics, books, art supplies, dinosaurs, trump cards and anything to do with wrestling.

I was the kind of little girl who scoffed at soap operas and sat down with her father and grandmother on a Sunday afternoon watching horse racing and Laurel Hardy movies and other oldies.

I’d learn all the words from those old movies, so that when mum worked the night shift at the retirement home she worked in, me and dad would re-enact them together fully, like we were putting on a spectacular theatre production. 

Sometimes we did for my aunts when visiting grandma on Sunday afternoons if they were visiting gran too.

I was the kind of little girl who made solar system models and studied encyclopaedias like a bible, because my access to education was sparse.

My dad was mostly into science, war and film history and gardening and he was the most active in educating me those things.  I got heavily into understanding the history of automobiles and aviation and some of it still sticks to this day!

I was like a son to him, I am sure.

My mum I think was jealous and that is why she treated me badly, I didn’t grow how she wanted me to.  She wanted me to be image obsessed, watch all the soap operas with her, devour all the romance books she bought and gossip about people behind their backs viciously, like some plastic girl from the movie Means Girls.

Which was odd really, because she as a tom boy too! She never taught me make up etc, it was like she had hoped that me being a girl I would teach her those things – but its a mothers job to teach the girl!

But I wasn’t like that, so she made my life hell.  Really, it was like living with a school bully with no escape, she only backed off me when I caved in and pretended to be the Barbie she wanted me to be, which was difficult as I was a fat child who was a bit of a jock.  Yes, you do get fat jocks!

But I’d rather go to a local park with my dad in the evenings and play on their big adventure playground pirate ship and re-enact scenes from The Voyage of Sinbad or Blackbeard the pirate, with my dad and if I am lucky, my cousins.

I am still very masculine to this day in my ideas, hobbies, likes and dislikes.  I even took a psychological test once to find out what I am and found out my brain is a lot more masculine than an average woman, in fact, significantly so.

I am bisexual, I do like to cross-dress and be masculine from time to time and I don’t make friends easily with women, unless they are similar to me.  Usually creative, hippy or bohemian, or tom boyish too!

The strange thing about all of this is that I am also glamour puss. Weird contrast I know, but I love dressing up elaborately, like a proper classic Hollywood star, but I can’t be in perfection mode all the time, it would drive me up the wall.  I love maxi dresses and sandals, I like jeans and camisoles, rainbow coloured dungarees and weird shit like that, oh and cosplay. 

I am a chameleon I suppose, yes, I guess that’s the right thing to say about me – I am a chameleon.

You never know what you are going to get day to day and if you are comfortable in rigidity, we can’t get along, because I have to flow with my emotions.  Don’t judge me for changing my style yet again, get used to it, why so stiff and judgemental?  Don’t be stiff… unless of course… I digress! 

It’s the flow again, the water that is me.

I’m like a river, now isn’t that going to be a lovely poem?

I am off to write it now…

Happy reading…

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Filed under About Me

A view of me

I am not confident in front of the camera because my body is unpredictable. 

What I mean is, one day my face looks slim and the next huge – I swell and it’s completely random and unpredictable.  Along with this my body can change hugely from one day to the next too, for example – I am not happy sharing my clothing size, but I will to help explain this!

I have to buy three sizes of clothing because one day I will be a size 20 and the next nearly a size 26, why this happens?  I haven’t a clue!  The doctors haven’t either, but they are pretty sure it has something to do with one of my auto-immunity disorders.

Yesterday all my clothing over a size 22 was huge on me, today, it’s a little tight.

Because I am sometimes a size 20, in fact most of the time I am a size 20 I presume that is my true natural size, but tomorrow I may wake up and only fit into size 26 clothing, literally this can happen overnight!

I have been trying to get to the bottom of this for years!

I am not confident with my looks because of it – I have to literally take a change of clothing with me when I go out for a few hours at a time, because I could start to swell and the clothing cuts into me!

I am also not confident because alopecia is really getting bad lately – the GP told me it is something that happens with people who are suffering from long Covid.

Recently I am excited about my looks starting to improve, because I have had a tooth extraction and I will soon be getting braces to straighten my smile, but that doesn’t solve the swelling and the hair issue!

I also found out recently that a large mole that was on my face was actually a treatable wart and it has now entirely gone!

I am really working hard to improve my looks, because I am not happy in my own skin; but it’s hard to manage when I never know from one day to the next what size I’ll wake up!

My confidence is also bashed because there has been private messages to me about how they believe I am either not the same person photo to photo or that I am rehashing old photographs all the time!

That is partly true; my photographs are mostly old ones – but it’s going to change because I intend to update Instagram at least once a week to show you all how I change so significantly in such a short space of time!

Below is a photograph I have taken tonight – my face is significantly larger than it was yesterday, my chin has doubled up, sometimes it triples up – we don’t know why!  But my face can sometimes get wider too!

Taken on the 2nd August 2022

We used to think it was due to food allergens, but we tested this over a five year period and to be honest there was hardly any change to this phenomenon!

Below is a picture of how I used to look I 2017 when I was actually 305llbs in weight!  Yes, 305llbs – my biggest ever size due to not handling my food intake well for a sedentary bedbound lifestyle – I was basically still eating like an athlete without moving my body! I used to eat 4500 calories a day and burn it off, but when I got sick it didn’t register for a while that I can’t eat like that anymore!

Taken in 2017

Why am I showing you all of this? 

I am bothered by an ex-boyfriend and his cult members they are actively doing whatever they can to “expose” me by proclaiming I am not a genuine person in any way possible.  They are seeking to destroy my reputation no matter how small a circle it is I am in, let me be clear on that!  I am unsure what they are trying to expose other than the fact that they are grudge harbouring bullies…. But hey ho!

You’d have thought after thirteen years of not being together they’d move on, but evidently not.  What I am confused about is their reaction when we broke off – they are the ones who expected me to make sense on a telephone six hours after ear repairing surgery and were so forceful in their demands that I socialise with them because they missed me (because he lived in the USA) that when I was tired I said something they misunderstood.  I said I needed time out as I just had surgery, he took it as I needed time out from him and that meant to him that I was dumping him – the vicious reaction online the next day to anyone connected to me was shocking and horrible and lead to death threats from people!

I lost a lot of friends because of him and he still hasn’t got over it.

This is what is so frustrating about it all.

It’s a very large group of people who all seem held bent defending this guy’s honour, when in fact, as far as I was concerned then, it was just a stupid misunderstanding… I had an operation for goodness sake; I was still under the influence of anaesthetic and he kept me on the phone for nearly two hours, I was practically falling asleep!

But I digress…

Here is a photo a year later…

Taken in 2018 and 50 pounds lighter

I have since lost a further forty pounds, I am still big – but when you consider the weight loss is not really due to dieting, but illness, it is a little good but also a little worrying for my family.  As I do have a sedentary lifestyle, I am sick and I am eating approximately 1200 calories a day on average, because I have huge digestive issues where eating is actually becoming painful.

We are trying to resolve matters with the help of doctors but the NHS is suffering hugely because of the pandemics, that their waiting lists are huge now.

I am having more good days recently in regards to energy – but pain is always present.  So I am starting to get the energy to be able to go out for a walk once a week for twenty minutes – I know it doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you consider I have been bed bound for eight years, it’s a good start!

I don’t think I can be truly happy with myself until I can get back the fitness I used to have back in 2012 where I woke up and did 45 minutes tae bo and walked 9 miles a day on average and then did another 45 minutes of tae bo in the evening amongst other activities such as badminton, hiking, rock climbing, skipping, swimming and more!   I need that life back! 

A lot of my ailments could be severe depression, but all of this started after I had mono and pneumonia in the Christmas of either 2012 or 2013 I forget which.  I did fall into a nasty depression in 2015 where for about three years I was struggling with suicidal thoughts because my illness was just taking its toll so much and I could do nothing!  I couldn’t even breathe between sentences.

But there is a handle on that now, I can breathe long enough to talk several sentences now – but it is hard to talk and walk at the same time. 

Because I have a lot of baggage and dirt in my past – including people who know my dreams for being a published author, just waiting for my name to be out there so they can pounce on my past and “expose it” to try and embarrass me back into my hole because they are ashamed they can’t have what I might get – I have decided to reveal all… expose myself as it were… dragging up all the sordid details of my past, because the past doesn’t define me – what defines me is what I am now and what I have become and what I will become in the future!

The past is the past – it is dead and gone, I am not – I exist, the past is extinct, the future is possible and I am living and learning as I am going along and I am forgiving too – so why aren’t they?

Why do they live in an extinct reality?

It’s not just a career I am trying to get by the end of this year sweethearts… it’s everything; I am out for all I can get from life!  I am really trying to work hard on every level of my existence and I am going to share my journey with you all along the way!

Watch this fat old ugly caterpillar transform!

Thanks for reading! 

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Legend of the gargoyle

There was once an ancient legend in our land, that deemed that no heart should be broken by man, for if he did a spell be cast, that this wretched human to stone be cast, to exist as a gargoyle upon the walls of Snell, our beloved fortress we love so well.

It is said in the dead of night a fair young maiden received this plight, a young stranger came to our land and made a promise to this maiden’s hand, a ring he bestowed upon her finger but the little louse he did not linger.

But before the gates had time to open the spell was cast and his image broken, with a contorted grin and piercing eyes, claw like nails he’ll be despised.  A memory of a loveless night, revenge is sweet and it served him right.

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Filed under Short Stories

For you are not perfect, I say

A tragedy is when humanity has lost its compassion for its fellow man

To cause him grief whenever you can

To comment of how he looks and lives

Yet you know him not

How can you do this, will you stop?

You are tearing lives apart by words

You have the voice of cowards

If things were turned and you were scorned for how you looked today

How would you feel when you get home, after you’ve walked away?

For you are not perfect, I say

It isn’t a laugh when you’ve said those things about a person’s weight

It isn’t funny when you’ve hurt your classmate

For her scars

For her red hair

It doesn’t matter, but you should care

A joke is not the excuse for causing her despair

Stop this hatred, stop it soon

Or someday judgment will bring your doom

I’m not talking religion here, but someday nasty words you’ll hear

And it won’t be you who is giving them

It will be another who’s chosen you to condemn

You are not perfect I say, but what you have now; let’s hope you keep it, hey?

For you never know what might happen

An accident to your face may rapine

I give you no threats but a warning

Don’t monish peoples adorning

For you are not perfect, I say.

 

 

 

 

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