Tag Archives: isolation

Who’s energy is this?

Having lived a life of semi-isolation pre-covid, because of life circumstances, I have not developed in a usual manner for other people in society.

My life has effectively been similar to that of a yogi.

Why do I say that? 

Because I have spent a lot of my life in social isolation because of one reason or another and I have always had reflective thoughts on everything that happens to me.  My memory is very good when things happen to me, because they seldom happen to me, if you get my drift?

Religion, philosophy and self-improvement has always been a way of life for me, indeed, it is a lifestyle of sorts.  I am always soul searching, I meditate often though not in the usual manner and I spend a lot of time inside of myself.

This has made me become described by many people as a sensitive and highly empathetic being.

I come from a very spiritual and somewhat occultist background with my grandmother’s gypsy and witch heritage, so I have learned to be open regarding everything and I have inherited my gypsy ancestral ability for clairvoyance.

Not only this but working with angels has always been a major part of my families indoctrination and so I have always worked with my spirit guides or guardian angels as it were on a very close one to one level to such a degree, I do not need to meditate to hear them, like most practitioners do.

Because of all of this, I have become a person to which friends rely on for messages.  Some friends of mine in the past and even my exes have become a little afraid of my abilities because it is my lifestyle.  I never push my beliefs on anyone, but people find it really hard when I am unsurprised by events that have happened in their lives.

Some are so afraid that they feel invaded and have left my life; others kind of try to abuse my ability and constantly try to get more answers to their questions to their lives.

Why am I sharing all of this?

Because I am finding myself socialising more online these days with new people and there are certain people I can feel want to say something “BIG” to me, but I sense they are afraid of rejection.  I think it is only one person; though I can sense seven who have similar intentions to this “main” energy I can feel.

I can tell there are seven new people who want to be a part of my life in a major way, in my opinion there is only the one that connects well to me and what’s so strange about it is, they haven’t made themselves known to me yet.  But my spirits have told me, they know everything that they can about me and it’s not just through my blog either!

This particular person who connects to me really well is definitely American, but there are four Americans amongst the seven.

This particular person is begging for a miracle because there are circumstances in his life, which indicate that they cannot do what a regular guy can do, he has a lot of responsibilities and he is afraid of getting me caught up in it all and becoming stressed.  He is deeply concerned for my mental health and stability.

He is afraid I will reject him, because he feels I am afraid of the challenges he brings with him.

He is afraid that I will feel emotionally neglected because he is a very busy, constantly on the go kind of guy and along with this, he is afraid he might physically exhaust me as well.

I sense a lot of people in his life know about me and is trying to support him through this awkward emotional time for him.

I feel he is afraid that I will not be impressed by him or that I may feel he is a narcissist in some way if he does what he instinctively feels he should, regarding me.

He is afraid that his lifestyle or certain associations within his lifestyle may emotionally harm me in some way.

He is also unsure how I cope with change and he really doesn’t want to stress me out with a huge upheaval, I definitely see him as very caring and nurturing.

He is also afraid that he might be overreacting about me, that maybe when things calm down a little in his life he may not think the way he does about me.  He worries that I have become discovered by him at a vulnerable time in his life – and it is a vulnerable time for him.

But what I can sense about this person is that we are so much in tune with each other.  We have the same needs almost and we are perfectly balanced in that, what he wants from me, I have the ability to be naturally that for him and vice versa – we really do not need to change much of ourselves to be part of each other’s lives.

I do feel that they have hugely underestimated my stamina and endurance, not physically, but emotionally.  Yes, I do feel physically their lifestyle will be very tiring for me for a while, but he has the ability to improve my stamina over time.  But emotionally, we’ll be OK, more than OK in fact.

He is very sensitive and he needs someone who can respect his boundaries and his choices and he is a very private and security oriented person.  Maybe he has been hurt a lot in the past or perhaps he is afraid of being taken advantage of or something along those lines…

I am really good at keeping things to myself, I dislike gossip and I am rather security conscious myself – though I do put myself out there a lot online, but depending on my circumstances I can tighten things up for the right person very quickly.

I can train dogs; dogs make me feel more secure… sorry for going off on a tangent there.

I feel our only issue, if we were to have a relationship with one another is that he will definitely find me a little too childish at times and selfish, but he will endeavour to kind of reign that out of me over a time.  He likes the playfulness and creativity in me, but the over excitement, the squeals and hyperactivity he will feel he has to step in and calm me down a bit.

He does feel that other people’s opinions mean a lot to him, he is very image conscious but he is not shallow, this much I can feel from him and he is living in frustration that people expect him to be shallow for some reason?

I sense his biggest desire with me is to help me experience a life of fun, freedom and happiness.  This is important to him; he wants me to be happy and less tight, it means a lot to him.

He is also afraid that I will reject him because he is a very physical person and somewhat clingy.  I don’t mind this actually because I have been attention starved most of my life, I am actually afraid I would slow his life down because of how demanding I can be with snuggles and mooching around them.  I know I am a very physical person too and I don’t mean sex, though I have to admit my tantric energy is rarely turned off!

Whoever this guy is, my only concerns are… can you cope with a hyperactive squirrel type woman?  Who is always in a snuggle mood, that is super creative and loves to brainstorm her ideas with you all the time.  Can you cope with the idea that she hates contraception for herself personally and wants a large family even though she’s forty?  If you don’t want kids, can you really keep your hands to yourself until you do? 

Do you like dogs?  I need a dog in my life… though I’m sympathetic to allergies.

I prefer suburban areas or areas that have a lot of nature around us, like big gardens and trees lining the streets, if nothing else and local parks…

I have a 12yr old son who will not be coming with me in my new life, as he has already chosen to stay with his father because of his 300yr ancestry in this village – will you think less of me for honouring his choices?

Do you like Mediterranean and Asian food as that’s my main diet? Because my ancestry is predominantly Italian with some Sephardic Jewish and Greek roots too.

Are you easily jealous?  This could be a problem as I am super friendly with the whole world, likely to hug everyone and be super nice and even a little flirty at times, but I am loyal to a fault!

Can you take the reins if necessary as I need a lot of direction and I get anxious when I am involved too much in a passive relationship… basically, do you have the patience with a person who is constantly asking “is this ok” “is that ok”? Or is that going to annoy you, because I know it has bothered many exes in the past.  I am also apologetic as I always feel like I am doing things wrong!

Do you have the patience to help me become the best that I can be as an individual? 

How are you with positive people who try to motivate you and help you?  Do you allow others to help you?  As I am always trying to help people and some people get moody about it, I only need to be told gently – I am OK thank you.

Do you like the outdoors?  I love it!

I don’t sunbathe; drink (unless it’s a special occasion & limit myself to 3) or smoke and I don’t do night life with the ladies, like most women do.  I am more of a lunch in town or an afternoon tea at home or at friends’ homes type.

How snobby are you?  I like thrift stores and markets and antiques.

I have a huge problem with spending loads of money on something I know I can get at a bargain price down the road of the same quality – this was something a couple of my rich exes couldn’t get over and they were snobby about where they got things, regardless of the price.  Which made no sense to me, you know look after the pennies and the pounds look after themselves and all that…

Besides I like needlecraft and thrift stores have some nice clothes to touch up and make your own designs with!

I don’t travel light and that is the understatement of the century!

My rabbit Ray means everything to me and if he can’t be part of your life, well… sniff* meanie!

I am a drama queen at times, especially if I feel emotionally neglected and I can sense this is the same for the person I am talking about here.  So that will be interesting… two queens in one home…

But I sense I am the submissive one in this energy.

I am really laying myself out there for an energy I don’t know is going to take the plunge with me… are you actually all energy and hot air with no real intention… or are you going to find your balls and talk to me?

Sorry to be blunt, but the suspense is killing me!

I can feel your energy so much it is distracting – when I try not to hone in on this energy I am seeing some weird signs everywhere that makes me refocus again.

222

444

Snake

Trees

11

Watches/pocket watches

Ibis

Flamingos

Peacocks

Dragonflies

Butterflies

Bubbles

Red with gold in blocks or tiles

Purple with teal usually seen with peacocks and shiny metallic blue and horses?

Crystals – jade in particular

Wheels

Crab

Aries signs

March for some weird reason is important, like 2023 March

A black and white cat

A ruby ring

Rose tinted glasses

Chakra alignments

The kabbalah

Adam & Eve references

Alpha and Omega references

It’s all just weird and I know it’s somehow connected to you… whoever you may be!

Why the blazes does my instinct tell me that when I meet you I am going to want to run away and scream and then come back to you like super calm and cool and like… yeah hi, how are you?

Nobody does that to me!

Who are you?

Really…

Whoever you are, in dream time we have a certain way of knowing if we’re the right people for each other. Its subtle, but we’ll know.

Thanks for reading!

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Some clarity on me

There is a problem in my life at the moment;  Paul and I are trying to work out how to handle this together, because things are moving faster than the both of us has planned.

It all has to do with the open-relationship we have.  Paul has found someone else, this means that we are in a predicament about what to do with me?

It’s not simple for us both to part like any other couple would.  Paul is scared this lady might run away from him no sooner had she got to know him more personally and then there is the issue of me.

What’s the issue with me?

I have never recovered properly from PTSD and I have a lot of anxiety issues, self-care issues and I have been struggling with dark suicidal thoughts for a long time.  Paul feels it is positively dangerous for me to live alone, at all!

In his mind, even at the loss of his own new found happiness with another woman, he is not happy about letting me move out unless he knows I am going to be cared for by someone who understands what is happening with me and who can take that on willingly.

Sometimes my mental illness can be so bad that I self-harm, but also my physical health can sometimes leave me zoning out at inappropriate times because it’s the way I manage pain.  I am also not reliable in medicating myself.  I have no mental health medication, it’s all physical.  But still, I forget it.

I am also not known to eat and drink regularly and often needs to be prodded to do so.  Though Paul often forgets the food aspect himself, I only really reliably eat a dinner every day, every other meal is usually skipped or I just snack.

It’s not as simple as just moving me out and Paul won’t have it.  Also Paul has told me, if I found another relationship that is willing to take care of me properly but they then decide that they no longer want me – he wants to just let this be clear, he would have me back here anytime.  Which would put a strain on his new relationship, but Paul feels responsible for me, like a father really.

He kind of adopted me when he helped me get away from my parents and he takes this role very seriously. 

But there is another problem with this.  He also agrees he is not the best person to care for me, because he is so absorbed in other things, he doesn’t have the time to talk to me or snuggle with me like he should.  He has also admitted that he feels quite neglectful towards me, because he is absorbed with caring for Henry and being chair of the governors for the local schools. 

We don’t share a room anymore and only hug each other to say goodnight or goodbye and he has told me that this is not enough for someone like me who has been attention starved most of her life – but he can’t spend more time with me, because he is exhausted with everything else.

I am only just recovering from a long standing sickness which made me bedbound for nearly nine years.  It has only been since Easter that I have been able to move around the house more, do some small exercises and even help a little with chores again.

The notion of just moving away into my own home without anyone living with me is not realistic right now and Paul wouldn’t let me anyway, as its too dangerous for me.

We are also in quite severe poverty, where paying taxi fees to see doctors is an issue.  I should be seeing the doctor very regularly, but we just can’t budget the taxi fares without starving ourselves for it!

So, even if I did find someone online to take me on – they’d have to literally go out on a huge limb to get to me and make so many compromises, that both Paul and I are very uncertain anyone is up for the challenge.

So we see ourselves as pretty much stuck together.

What hurts Paul the most is that this new lady of his, really wants to marry him ASAP and she is so much like a former fiancé he had, that died before they got married, thirty years ago.

Paul is twenty seven years my senior.  I am forty years old now, Paul also worries that if I cannot find a new relationship quite soon, that I may be alone anyway, because he might die of old age whenever and that scares the both of us, because it is likely at this moment in time – if I were to lose Paul tomorrow for example, I am likely to be made to go into a residential home for the mentally vulnerable and my son may spend a temporary time in welfare care, whilst they make arrangements to a distant cousin.

That’s my situation in a nutshell.

However, it’s not that simple again…

There is big interest in me from a handful of men.  I am not leading any of them on as such, just a little friendly flirtation with one or two, but I am not looking seriously.  Because I think nobody would be interested in someone like me… not with the problems I have.

Not genuinely and not in a non-toxic kind of way.

I don’t drive, we don’t have a car, we rely on public transport and we can’t afford to travel outside of our town Rugby in Warwickshire and I don’t have a passport.

When I said in the past posts about my isolation in life, I was being VERY sincere about that.  Until I met Paul, I rarely went out without anybody being with me.  I have always had someone accompany me to places; I have been that badly micromanaged.

I virtually never do anything alone outside the house; the idea is alien to me!  It’s alien to people reading this, but it’s normal to me.

My PTSD has never been treated properly because when I refused medication for mental health, the therapist refused to further management of it.  I am triggered by tiny things; things which can make me zone out and even lose wads of time, black out or panic.

I am not a social phobia person like my mum would make you believe; on the contrary I am quite an extrovert.  I prefer being around large groups of people, I am more anxious in quiet places that are unfamiliar to me or haven’t got anyone familiar in them. 

I am more secure when it is an open space with lots of escape routes, because I have experienced a lot of outside violence too, not just abuse at home, but it has to be filled with lots of people as it makes me feel safer in crowds. 

What I am trying to say is, I am even nervous alone in my own home.  I have always strived to live in places where the idea of being alone will be at its minimum.

A lot of people hate the idea of always having people around them, but for me, it’s what helps me thrive.  I need people.

Also I dislike handling people at the door, I would rather someone else deal with them because new people make me anxious, because again, I have experienced a lot of violence even on my on doorstep with people coming in to attack my mum or brothers! 

I don’t talk on the telephone either because I am deaf, texting is OK, but most people conveniently forget I am deaf, so all telephone calls are taken on my behalf.

Well, that’s me and my situation.

Happy reading and please understand!

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Social confusion

A fundamental thing that nobody understands about someone who has been raised in isolation, especially someone like me who didn’t get away from all that until the age of twenty seven is this;

They don’t grasp how difficult it is to understand social cues.

They haven’t experienced being socially isolated to the extent you have no idea about what is socially acceptable, except for the things that they have learned from their oppressors.

That although you have been socially isolated and talk sometimes online to people, you are still clueless about how to interact with people, even there!

You still have your oppressors telling you that emailing a person more than once a week will make you come across as sad and needy, or that they may misread your intentions as flirtation if you talk to them too much!

Though I understand in part that this is untrue, I still haven’t the foggiest about just how much contact with people is acceptable – especially people I hardly know. 

That someone like me is likely to make a lot of major social fuck ups, because she hasn’t learned what is normal to society as a whole, not even online.

So, when I slip up, I expect someone to be open with me about how I have made them feel and guide me – not just walk out of my life because I am strange or I am aloof, I seem disinterested, because that isn’t true at all. 

I remember a time I met my adult nephew in-law for the fourth time ever in his life, he decided to hug me goodbye but I learned that the hug was uncomfortably long and made everyone feel weird.  These simple gestures, I am clueless about!

I believe I have said it before on this blog, that I am really a baby to society and it’s true – though I am forty next month, I still haven’t learned the social basics.  I had just three years’ experience of true social freedom before I became bedbound sick for nine years – I am starting from scratch again now that some of my health is stabilising and it’s scary.  Because nobody understands a woman of forty who has never socialised enough to know what she is doing!

Believe me when I say I read about twelve books at a time, not at the same time, but around the same time, if you get me?  I read a book to ten to thirty pages, then I put it down and pick up another – a majority of these books are self-help books, books about society and culture, body language and how to have conversations with people.

I have learned how to ask open ended questions, either the books are full of shit or the people I have met are more socially awkward than I am, because they just answer with a blunt endings and scoot away a bit from me.

Maybe it’s the type of questions I ask?  I don’t know! 

But I don’t see how talking about the artwork someone is looking at or generally talking about the school (if collecting my child from it) can cause a reaction where someone would scoot away.  It’s not like I am asking “who are you and where do you live”?  So it’s puzzling to me.

I generally wait until people approach me these days, because I am new to all of this.

I am way too open about myself to almost everyone, because I am not ashamed of who I am and I have nothing to hide, but apparently that makes people uncomfortable.  It’s like I can’t win.

But then again, when I don’t talk much, I get the same reaction, again can’t win! 

I genuinely want to know how a person feels, not how tired they are or what the state of their health is like, I want to know if they are happy and comfortable.  I want to know how they feel about the artwork they are looking at, what they really do think about the school that their children go to and just generally ask where locally is best to take the children, maybe there is something I haven’t heard of nearby?  Why do I get the cold shoulder… is it me or is it them?

I reckon it’s me; it has to be me, because I was the one in social isolation for twenty seven years and rose by a narcissistic and a verbally abusive mother.  They have friends around them sometimes, I don’t – so it’s not like they are truly socially awkward, like me.

I bought this up because there are friends online or rather online acquaintances that would be nice to become friends with, however, they talk a lot for an hour or so, then they either never contact me again or it’s a couple of months between.  It’s odd to me.  I’d have imagined once a week a little line, but not regular every day contact.  But sometimes, they decide never to talk again and I can’t help but wonder did I get too personal with them?

I sit back and think; maybe they can’t cope with my changes?  Maybe talking so positively and confidently about myself one day and then the next day being a little anxious about things is something that everyone experiences – but for me, it seems to lose friends at a rapid rate.  I can’t be positive and confident all of the time, I am only human.

I noticed I get more followers when I am confident and no sooner had I had a post where I am anxious I have lost half a dozen or so.

I am not a robot.

I am a person.

Everyone has those days.

I can’t feed other people’s egos all the time, because I have off days too!

If you expect that, then, maybe you have social issues too?

But right now I am in a state of perplexity and this is why I have become relatively quiet on twitter lately.

If I am not being contacted by depressives who are using me as a therapist in DMs, I am being contacted by scammers pretending to celebrities I follow in their little private account messages.

Thing is, one thing that seems to set me apart from the average person in society is that I can smell a scam and a liar a mile off, because my family aren’t entirely honest folk and I know the tricks people play, because as I was growing up my family sort of prepared me in the form of little games and tricks the family did to each other, to keep our minds sharp about society in general. 

I am not very trusting, but when I have been raised in a situation like that, you can understand it!  I’ve had relatives do the nastiest social tricks on me over the years, as what they believe is training, that I never get my hopes up about anything anymore.  I had the joy of life sucked out of me at a very young age, I can’t trust and I can’t feel excited about anything, because I have been trained that it is usually a ruse or that things are easily cancelled.

So there is no point being excited about anything.

There is more than just socialising I have to learn in my life, so much is ingrained though.

My son and Paul gets excited about things and I just sit there, pan faced and nod and say things like “well it would be nice if it were to happen, wouldn’t it”?  They rightfully ask me if I am excited too?  Me being blunt and honest as I am would reply “Yes, I’d like it to happen, but I am not too excited, because you never know…” I am sorry I just can’t help it!

I am not a kill joy really, but there are times when I am cautious about good things that when they are actually in process I am anxious, waiting for people to jump out at me and laugh at me for being such a sad bitch who thought it was all going to be perfect etc.  It’s happened before, its happened a lot!  I find happiness difficult, because there is always someone out to ruin it or make it false, if you understand that?

So, I am a boring person upon reflection.  I don’t like surprises because in the past I have learned that anything with surprise in it is generally going to be unpleasant and humiliating.

Well, that’s all I have to say on the matter, because this post is getting too long.  But I hope you are all starting to get a clearer picture of who I am and why I am this way!

Happy reading! 

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Shove me in a box…

“You can’t have and do everything, you’ve got to narrow yourself down”; Have you ever been told that by anyone in the past?

I have endlessly, particularly by Paul – he has constantly lived in fear since we moved in together that I am overdoing everything, stretching myself too thin and he has tried to endorse a cut version of me. Purely because he fears I will burn myself out!

I never realised until now, just how little by little, I have lost myself.  Around seven years ago I became severely depressed and suicidal; I couldn’t find joy in anything anymore.  I didn’t realise until recently, when I have been soul searching just why this might be the case!

Why am I no longer happy?

Why even when I was being badly abused in a toxic parent/child relationship, I was still happier then, in myself, than I am now that I am free?  Because I realised, although I was isolated and abused, I was allowed to have my hobbies and a lot of them!  I was able to skip from this to that and know that the house was always spotlessly organised and nothing needed to be cleared away and cleaned before I could use it.

Although my life with my parents was terrible, I had the environment perfect for creative growth.

My heart and soul sings when I am able to read books at the drop of a hat, write stories and songs and poems and practise any musical instrument.  I could do art and I always had a dog next to me, I was never without a dog when I lived with my parents.

I could sing anywhere from the hours of 9am to 9pm without being hushed, as long as I isolated myself in my room or in the garden to do so.

I could get the exercise I need without clearing the floor and vacuuming first and have the right music to motivate me to finish the work out all the way through!

I could listen to any music and watch any movie I so desired; although I was isolated, threatened, blackmailed and all the rest, I was free to hone my skills and entertain myself however possible, as long as I just don’t go out and as long as it didn’t interfere with chores or whatever my mother wanted from me, which were minimal anyway because my mother had OCD and everything was perfect all of the time around the house.

But here, I don’t have the same freedom.  In my own house, I don’t have that.

There is always a complaint at how loudly I sing, it’s ok to sing, but do you really have to sing opera or songs that reach a high note in jazz?

It’s ok for you to have these musical instruments, but you can’t have your keyboard constantly set up outside of the box, there is no room for it – let me bring it downstairs for you every time you want to use it and wait until we clear the dining table and you can use it there!

It’s ok for you to do your watercolour painting, but we need to clear your art table up as we’ve had lunch on it today, it will only take fifteen minutes and then you need to fetch it all down from boxes from the spare bedroom before you get going on it… is it any wonder half an hour later especially when I’ve had a bad day with my sickness that I decided after all of that nonsense I don’t want to paint anymore?

Especially when there is never any room to store the art to dry and the work ends up with piles of toys on it and lost for several weeks… there is no respect with my efforts. Nobody cares, but me. I have very little personal space and I am made to feel guilty when I fight for it.

I have a 4ft by 4ft corner in the living room with my desktop computer and a chair; I had to fight for that space and to maintain it as tidy as it is like it’s some kind of ongoing battle… and it is!

They can take anything away from me, but not this space!

And they do.

Sometimes I need to pee, but I get hemmed in this corner by fortresses of lego or robots, then they leave the room abandoning me to try and get out of it, because really, they don’t care.  Or they barricade me in this corner with an ironing board and baskets of laundry and I have to wait a few minutes whilst they rescue me out of it, just so I can go to the toilet.

It’s nice he does the laundry, I really appreciate that – but I need space to do the work and I have been struggling for two years now in getting Paul to help me set up the spare room as an office, because I am too weak to move the huge cabinets up there myself to make room for my desk.

The mess is depressing, the lack of freedom to just up and go anywhere in the house is… if you can understand it’s… it’s just… I don’t know.  It makes me want to give up, stay in bed and rot away.

The only place I can absolutely guarantee a clean and tidy place with the freedom to move un-obstructively is between my side of the bed, my side of the bedroom, the upstairs landing and the bathroom; but lately, the bathroom is getting obstructed as Henry is becoming a teenager and floods the floor, so I can no longer trundle from bed to toilet in fleece socks without seeping into a lake and sitting on a toilet with a wet bottom because for some reason or another, Henry doesn’t just wash himself, but the whole room!

Is it any wonder that I sit back and wish to leave?  That I can’t cope anymore with this kind of life?  Because nobody I live with uphold the same quality control of how the house should be as I do?

Because I was stupid to think I could change a hoarder.

“We’re not obsessed with everything like you are” is the response I get when I complain.  “We don’t have time, we’re tired, we can’t help it” is always the excuse I get and I am drained by the whining and then I don’t want to create – I just want to sink back in bed and hope that I do actually die of whatever is making me sick! It’s probably the black mould, I never had asthma before I moved in here!

I was offered a free writers retreat holiday the other week, I refused to go because I was genuinely afraid that if I went, I’d enjoy the freedom too much and won’t want to come home again.

I am a musician as much as I am a writer, I am a composer and lyricist, I am an artist and photographer – but I can only be a writer whilst I live here, there isn’t any room for the other stuff and I miss my piano and keyboard so much, the glockenspiel, recorder and kalimba are available easily, but the house has eaten my harmonica and portable electronic drum!

Oh I still have it, it’s upstairs in a box, but I can’t get to it, it’s barricaded behind loads of boxes of things we never use and I can’t carry it downstairs to use it, without thirty minutes of tidying up first and then there is the issue that I am disturbing someone.  Or that “they” want to play my keyboard too as though it’s some kind of novelty game;

I am thrilled in particular that Henry has an interest in playing the keyboard, though he never practises, but why is it always when I only just bring it down for me after months of not seeing it? 

Maybe I am just a selfish asshole, but I can’t help feel I am being boxed as much as the junk in the spare room is!

Sometimes I feel I am in the way, that if they could, they would, shove me in a box and put me out of the way.

How I miss my music.

I need to find a way out of all of this, before I grow old and bitter and become a mega bitch; it’s slowly happening, I used to be happy for everyone, never a glum thought crossed my mind – but lately, I am getting envious and I am starting to turn green and have ugly thoughts about things.

I feel like I am losing my soul!

Happy reading everyone!

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Songs that seem written for me

Ten songs that match my personality or feel like they were written by someone who knows me and below them explanations of why I think this, also a huge insight to me as a person! 

  1. The lady is a tramp especially the Lady Gaga and Tony Bennet version!
  2. Pain by Three days grace
  3. It can’t rain all the time by Jane Siberry
  4. Crush Em by Megadeath
  5. Champion by Three days grace
  6. Smile by Nat King Cole
  7. Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez
  8. Rose Garden by Lynn Anderson
  9. Touch-a-touch-a-touch me from Rocky Horror Picture Show
  10. Cry little sister by Gerard McMahon

The Lady is a tramp;

This song connects well to me because I will eat a couple of hours before a meal out, as I can never guarantee whether or not the meal will be enough… you know nouveau cuisine and all that – if I am hungry, I hate waiting around for food!  So to be polite, I tend to eat a little before I go anywhere! 

I won’t ever wear real fur, I hate the cruelty of it, though it’s pretty I tend to wear faux versions a lot and have a lot of faux blankets around the house.  Though I happen to like pearls, so that part doesn’t connect! 

One thing I can’t stand is gossiping with other women, it’s not my thing, hence why most of my friends tend to be men.

I don’t really like to make myself up too much to impress others if that means I have to be uncomfortable, but I do like to look impressive generally.  Clothing must always be comfortable or else I would rather go naked and being someone who isn’t an exhibitionist, that’s something I won’t do!

I like being fashionable though and I do like showing off a bit, I am a bit of a peacock – I think this is why I love Lady Gaga, I see a lot of me in her!

Pain by three days grace;

There was a time that I became afraid that I would never feel again.  My post-traumatic stress syndrome got so bad I became what they call Non-comprimentos, I don’t know if I spelled that right I tried to google it, but found nothing.  I wouldn’t speak and hardly ate for nearly a year, I became numb to everything.  Conscious, unlike people think I was, but numb.  I didn’t want to react, I didn’t want to speak, I didn’t feel a thing.  It’s a scary place, it’s like I gave up and didn’t die, but I was supposed to, if that makes sense?

It took a long while for me to get out of being such a poker face, so pan faced and unemotional, a very long while.  I wouldn’t smile for nearly four years and when I did smile it was at the irony that people were trying to save my life (due to mastoid infection) and all I really wanted to do was die; but I smiled because of the darkness of it all.

What happened?

I was a huge wrestling fan; in particular I loved The Undertaker.  I was afraid of becoming brain damaged due to the surgery and my mother came into the operating theatre to help settle me down for the injection which would put me to sleep – her comforting words came out without realising what she had said until she saw the horror on the anaesthetists face.  “Don’t worry, just think about The Undertaker” she said, smiling down at me.

I didn’t just smile for the first time in years; I full out laughed and then had to explain to the nurses around me that my mother isn’t mental, it’s my favorite wrestler!

But after that time, I did decide that if things hurt me, I’d rather feel it than be numb.  Strange I know, but if you have been there yourselves, you’d understand the loss and the loneliness of it all.

I soon developed into transferring that to physical pain rather than emotional after a while and entered the dark phases of self-harming, it helped me to cope and though the scars I have are bad, they make me feel like a warrior.

It can’t rain all the time;

That’s kind of my motto nowadays; there is always sunshine through the rain or after it, though the bursts of sunshine in my life are usually short, it’s best not to take them for granted and to recognise them when they are around.  It’s easy to forget the light side of life to the extent it becomes alien at times and you can often miss them!

Crush Em;

At times I feel like life is a war, you have to fight for who you are and what you stand for, because so many people want to change you or destroy you.

I used to submit a lot, but as I grew and suffered so much, I decided that if I am going to suffer, I am going to suffer in order to stay true to myself because living a lie hurts me more than I can bear!

I was suffering either way, really.  So it’s best to suffer to your own painful tune than somebody else’s.

I’ve had so much of other people thinking that other people’s lives are their business, their personality, likes and dislikes have to be critique within an inch of their lives to the extent I’ve had enough! 

I say and do what I want, but I am always ready to roll my sleeves up and start to fight and often times that leads me to gas lighting the other person, because I am not determined to just say my piece, I am determined that they can absolutely be themselves and they can absolutely hate me for being myself – but they absolutely cannot try to change me and I absolutely cannot try to change them, only enlighten them to the fact that all forms of hate is evil! 

My intention when I am in an argument is to shed light on the fact that it is ok to love and hate, as long as you accept each other’s differences and learn to live in peace.  If the other person isn’t being peaceful and won’t leave me alone after I suggest we agree to disagree, then they have to be prepared that I will defend myself anyway possible and that it could lead to problems.

Champion;

I have fought so hard to be where I am and who I am I have been dragged up and beaten up and bruised and battered in so many ways, not just physically – it is hard not to become something formidable after it all.

I have learned that the harshest of words and the hardest of beatings can make you stronger and in doing so, it can make a person become so strong that they develop into something that their haters and abusers can no longer fight – a true champion!

When a person tries to destroy another, it makes them feel strong when in fact they are weak.  Some people allow themselves to be destroyed, others learn to get back up and fight and I am one of the fighters.  Very little can intimidate me these days and I do not shy from throwing myself in front of others weaker than me, to take the hits!

Because I know I can cope and I can see that the world is full of weakness and it needs a champion sometimes!

I have a deep fire in me to teach the world, but also shield the weak from it.

I have even learned not to hide my tears anymore, I am no longer ashamed of them – though people may read that as a sign of a broken weak person, for me, it’s a sign that they’ve hit a nerve and with love I will show them what they’re doing, but carry on, I may feel pressured to fuel my fire.  I never say things lightly and I am a compassionate teacher, who gives other people time to think before I react!

But as they say, you can’t always help the stubborn.

Smile;

It took me a long while to get my emotions back; it took even longer for me to learn to put a mask on my face for the sake of the others who are much weaker or disadvantaged than me. 

I learned that the world definitely needs a champion, it needs compassion and love and tenderness and I leaned that it starts with me, my actions, my love, my care; yes don’t take on other people’s problems for your own, because it won’t help them in the long run, but you can hold their hand and give kind words to make them feel a little stronger in their battles.

It starts with a smile, then listening, then trying to understand and then holding their hands whilst championing them along the way, but never, ever let their battles become your own.  Stand back and let them do it for themselves, whilst quietly nodding and smile, you’ve done it little champ!

When I laugh at some people who try to do me down, it’s not mockery, its irony.  They are trying to be strong by showing the biggest weakness they have.  But I am delicate, I don’t laugh in their face, that’s not compassionate, my laugh is a smile and a small ha, I try to be amicable amongst the discord.

Dollhouse;

I really resonate with this lyrical line “I see things that nobody else sees”, for two reasons, one is that I am clairvoyant and clairsentient, the other is that I have seen the true faces of various people behind closed doors and I know the truth about a lot of things – many things, big, but they will never be exposed.

My life is like the twilight zone at times, but enough of that.

I often felt played like a doll in the past by other people who were always changing my shape and my form and personality to suit them and they isolated me in a little house most of the time.

A particular person in my life played me like a doll so much that it was almost like I was her ventriloquist dummy and her hand was up my arse even controlling what I said.  I didn’t realise until I went to a psychologist in 2012 that she used a lot of NLP against me, with little subtleties that made me behave a certain way – they made references to the Pavlov experiments in how she raised me.   If you are not familiar with these experiments here is a link. https://www.simplypsychology.org/pavlov.html

Like most paradoxes in my life, it is the very thing that hurt me to begin with that is helping me to heal.

Rose Garden;

I could never get over the fact that people want to be in relationships with people who accept their baggage and everything is going to be perfect, when the going gets tough, they leave each other!  I never understood this.

Love needs work and compassion, it’s not a given, you can’t just waltz into someone’s life and expect a picture perfect romance, because things like that may happen to some, but it never really lasts.  Love needs time and work. 

Most of my best relationships happened through friendship first and I know it sounds weird, but a long conversation over two or three picnics about what each other wants from life and each other and then almost like a handshake and business proposal we get together.

You have to lay your entire self on the table in front of them, reveal all; dark and light – then you make a decision on whether you are suited together or not.  Do you have the same life goals?  You see how many compromises you are willing to make with each other and if the BIG things don’t match, don’t go there, don’t choose them and start the process over again with someone else – life is too short to be unhappy with someone you live with!

When someone develops an issue with me it is usually because they were not honest in the conversations leading up to the relationship, because they wanted to tell me what I wanted to hear, rather than stay true to themselves!

You must never do this, because you can’t mould everyone!

So I always remind people, I am sorry but did I promise this to you initially?  It’s hard and I know I sound like a bitch, but I am only trying to save hearts from being broken in the long run, because I have a terrible guilt conscious.

You’d be surprised actually how many people hate people being so open like this.  But I feel it’s essential; you could be spending your life together some day – what have you got to hide?

I sound dominant but I really am not.  This is something that shocks people when they get to know what I want from life, because I seem so assertive off the bat – but that’s the point.  It’s to show each other your boundaries so you can live happily together.  I am not a huge feminist, I do believe women can save themselves and they can do many things, but I am super traditional and submissive in my best relationships that most feminists don’t find someone like me acceptable!

It’s a contrast I know, but as I said – it’s vital to be open with people.

Be strong enough to say “I need this, and I need that” and “don’t engage me with this, or that”, it’s important.

I welcome you to my garden, but I didn’t offer you constant sunshine, a perfect lawn and neat borders, I have brambles in there, some nettles for the playful butterflies and some beautiful thorny roses!

Touch-a-touch-a-touch me;

Self-explanatory really; I have been isolated most of my life that I get thrilled when people want to get close to me, even more so when touched.  I have been touch starved most of my life.  Though I can’t be called a slut as my life experience hasn’t reflected my inner most thoughts and feelings, I have the mind of one though.

I am not ashamed to admit it either.  I love being touched, I crave it, but I only desire it from certain people I feel are worthy!

This is not an invitation for anyone to come and touch me without asking first, but it is an invitation to ask if you could get close to me – I don’t mean to sound threatening but I will deck those who take advantage!

I am also very much proud to be considered a creature of the night, because my life has been filled with darkness and in darkness I found my strength, the light weakened me.  I am dark and to many people I resent to say, I am dirty – though I see it as cheekily playful and clean fun!  Dirty is a bad word when it is pertaining to fun pursuits and I don’t like hearing it!

To me the most sacred thing in life is sex, the meaning of life is sex and we should have more of it in our lives and we should spread the love ashamedly!

Cry little sister;

I have always wanted to spread love around the world and make it more acceptable and available to people I come across; I wish that the world was a more open place, a place where people are not afraid to be who they are and do what makes them happy without judgement.

I’ve always hated the lack of love in this world, particularly the kind where you can be free to touch the hand or a knee of a person in order to comfort them, without all this fear that surround’s physical contact with people.

I’ve never found it a healthy aspect of society, though I do appreciate the fact that it protects people from being touched by people they don’t invite into their lives.  I remember a time where I had to get the police involved because of a stalker who readily kept touching me up and I didn’t invite that.  But generally, when you know someone that is beyond a mere acquaintance, why is it still shunned?

I have seen pained expressions in male friends eyes when they see me crying and you know they want to put their arm around you and comfort you, but they are afraid of so many things if they do that.  Will I misinterpret this as a romantic interest?  Will his girlfriend misinterpret it as having an affair?  Will I take him to court for it?  So many things, so I sit there crying more or less alone, when all I want is the extra courage by having someone hold me tight; I wouldn’t care who it is, if they are nice and won’t take advantage of it further.  But most won’t even try.

A gentle touch can spark a healing energy and break the cycle of loneliness, breaking chains that bound us.

Happy reading all!

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Filed under About Me

Internet bliss

I lived my life becoming what you wanted me to be

A nothing, a loser, a carer, a woman who lives solitarily

So you can have your nursie when you old become

You hoped I’d have no intelligence; you wanted me to be dumb

But I was bright as a button and I did my lessons well

I wanted children, a family

To you that’s a life of Hell!

So you treated me more cruelly in the hope that I would stay

Because my confidence you’ll shatter, of course I couldn’t stray!

But you didn’t understand solace, with books and with my friends

The internet provided them; they were my god-send

You cursed the day my brother presented me with this

A world full of possibilities, the internet was bliss!

So you tried to make me isolated even more than that

You said you’ll pull the plug September

I was absolutely sure of that

So I left in July and met Paulie

He is the one who set me free

Your cruelty can no longer touch me

For I have woken up you see!

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Filed under poetry

A tardiness update

Hello everyone, long time no writes, I know, sorry about that!

I want to say that I have been having a lot more infections than usual and a lot more chest and breathing problems which are not Covid related; I have not been infected with Covid luckily.  I have completely self-isolated since March 2020, I have only left the house twice in that time for dental appointments – I have been scared of Covid especially as I have a history for chest infections and pneumonia anyway!

Other than dental appointments I must admit I have steered clear of all doctor clinics and hospitals because I think that if I go, I am more likely to get infections – now this is frustrating because before Covid the doctor could care less for my health problems and whilst Covid has been a factor I have had to turn down huge amounts of appointments because the doctor is now ready to try and solve them… it is like the world is conspiring to trap me to get Covid lol!

I think there is one good thing about the fact I was isolated all of my life by my mother, that is, Covid19 isolation is literally a doddle for me as I have always learned to cope with what I have and make the best of being at home.  But it is also deeply depressing that again, I feel like the world is conspiring to keep me cooped up for all of my life!

I have mental health issues because of my past and so many people have been concerned for how Covid isolation may be affecting me mentally.  But they don’t understand that it is normal for me, I have been so used to it for so long that it is second nature.  So unlike the rest of the world that has always had some kind of freedom, I don’t go stir crazy just because I can’t leave the house for a time.

Staying at home or even cooped up for prolonged periods inside a single room really doesn’t bother me as long as there are things I can do.  If the room was empty, that could be a completely different matter, I may go crazy after a few days, but I would make do with meditations, visualisations and if I were not causing trouble to do so, singing and reciting poetry etc. 

The thing with me is, imagination is easy.  Imagination is my friend and I have learned to harness it on command for any situation.  I do meditation and visualisation so well, that there has been times I have been hungry and I have visualised eating a meal and I have come out of meditation not feeling hungry anymore!

It’s amusing really that I am overweight; when I consider that I can do this.  But I will be completely honest with you; I am overweight for only three reasons.  As part of the abuse I have been victim of, a large part of that was being fed constantly, my abusers were feeders.  I have lost a huge amount of weight since being away from them, but not enough to be of healthy weight.  Secondly, I am addicted to caffeinated sodas such as cherry cola and Pepsi, but still, not as bad as I used to be.  I have gone from a 5 litre a day habit to only 1 litre now -still trying to fight the addiction.  Third reason – the biggest one of them all is.  I lost a majority of the weight I had because when I moved in with Paul and got away from the abuse, I started to religiously walk 9 miles per day and I that was doing the trick with normal eating.  Since becoming sick back in 2012 I then walked only twice a week for about 2 miles and since Covid I walk nowhere at all, except around the house.

In my humble opinion I need to lose a lot more.  I have tried to go on a diet, but diet alone is not working at all.  I have stuck religiously to a diet for 3 months and I haven’t lost a pound!  It’s only going to go via exercise, which this body just can’t cope with right now.  Every time I try to exercise I get weird symptoms of lower back shakes and unsteady shaking legs and hands.  I am residing myself to the fact I can’t garden anymore, not for longer than 15 minutes a time.

I have to make do with trying to think about what I want to do versus what I can realistically do these days.

I love gardening, but short of sitting at table with pots, that is something I can no longer do the exact way I love the most – which is to kneel down with my hands in the dirt, pulling and pruning and chipping and replanting from ground to ground in true food forest garden fashion.

I have to reside myself to the idea that someday, if I get a little money, I can get someone in to pull my whole garden out for  me and make me hip high raised beds with seating around them, so I can sit and garden the lame man’s way.  Sorry, but to say I don’t feel bitter about not being able to do it the usual way, would be a lie!

My disabilities are affecting my creative crafts too sometimes.  Hand shakiness (presumably not Parkinson’s) are sometimes affecting me using utensils when eating as often as once a week, as well as hand cramps and so therefore drawing and painting on those days is a no go. 

My writing can sometimes be affected on bad pain days; sometimes pain is so bad I misread things, miss-type things, mispronounce things and even have spoonerisms coming out of my ears!  Hand shakiness and pain can affect how much I read in a day too as well as depression.  On a good week without much pain or shakes I can read about three books, if the depression isn’t there.  I think I mentioned this before.  You can more or less tell how I am doing by how much I am reading on Goodreads.com

But don’t be overwhelmed with sympathy for me not getting down to my art and writing however!  There are other factors besides health which leads to my tardiness – the phases I go through.  I tend to find it hard to narrow down precisely who I want to be.  So I go through weeks at a time being so involved in one thing or two and then move on again. 

For example; Between October and April, I have got into the phase of watching around 3 hours a day of YouTube videos from people who are homesteaders and food forest permaculture gardeners, as well as food preservers and artists.  February and April 2021 I have gone through another spiritual soul searching phase.  I have read books based on spirituality and cosmic ordering and I have been thinking about my self-definition a lot.  Since the start of April I have re-established my love for The Sims 4 and have been playing that daily for literally 6 hours a time.  Disgusting I know.  But I have still been practising my art approximately 3 days a week for an hour a time, which is becoming a record now, because that too, used to come in phases!  If this is an unusually long phase, then I have been in this once since last summer!

Writing is on a severe back burner, I am writing about 90 minutes three times a week since March, whereas I wrote a lot more, before then.

On a very positive note however; my art practises are for the very reason that I have decided to make a children’s picture book series and I am practising my art to get the same characters right in several different poses.  Now I know, you are all thinking that I am not a children’s author and that would be very true!  But something happened in my mind, where I just have to have this children’s series about a dragon in true infant picture book form.  I don’t know why this is happening, but I am going with the flow!

But I will tell you now; my main genres are dark fantasy and dystopia that will never change!

Until next time, thank you for reading.

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Filed under About my work

Major changes explained

Updates to this blog are aesthetic updates as well as content updates; in the future I hope to post not only my poetry, short stories, art and life updates, but also updates on my mental health journey:

In future posts I will show you how I am trying to re-define who I am, because in reality, I have never been the truest version of me, I have been severely supressed and it is a journey about unleashing the real me!

Everything about me currently and in the past are not my real choices, it is not the true or real me.  What I mean to say is, I had an abusive past and a past where I was controlled and isolated very severely not only by my parents, but an ex fiancé as well.  My current fashion choices, my general knowledge of the world around me, my diet and my habits and even to a large degree, my career choices and beliefs were all facsimiles of my abusers, not me.  I do still hold myself accountable for many of the things I have done in the past, because it was due to my emotional weaknesses that I allowed those things to happen and take place, but that does not defer from the fact that my abusers were abusive to me!

This blog will include how I am changing into the habits I want to have, becoming the person I want to be, fighting through all the pain and sickness and mental health issues I have to literally sculpt myself into something I want to be, rather than making do of the moulding that my abusers have made me into.

My sense of fashion, my habits, my diet, my everything is going to change so dramatically and I know I will falter and falter a lot, because I am changing my whole existence and current life, for something completely new, unexplored and it will be tremendous hard work, which is why I feel it needs to be documented online and hopefully I will build a support system from my readers to help me through the major changes I am about to incur.

I am 39 on my next birthday October 3rd 2021. 

Let’s hope that my honorary aunts are right, that life begins at 40!

Because for me, I am still only a baby mentally, I am still only new to life – because I have never been allowed to live.  It is very scary to admit a lot of things to everybody right now, that even though I have a child who is nearly 11yrs old and even though, I have lived away from my mother since 2009 and totally broke from her in 2012, I still have never ventured out of the house alone, without some kind of assistance or support from a relative or friend.  I have literally always had someone hold my hand when I left my parents, someone to speak up for me when I am in difficult situations and to be perfectly honest, it is annoying, because even though, these people are my carers and they are helping me to come out of my shell and undo the abuse my parents have done by prepping me for life – but they also misinterpret a lot of what I mean to say to certain people or they say things in their own way, which sometimes isn’t as clear as I would have said it.  A lot of the time regarding my health, talking to doctors etc, they forget things and me being me, would sometimes be too nervous to speak out and say well actually.

Though this aspect of me has got hugely better in the past 4yrs, the doctors are surprised by the progressed I have made there, because whereas they used to look at Paul for confirmation of what has happened, they are now starting to look and listen to me, which they see as amazing progress.

It is these points which make it difficult for me to actually contemplate a life in marketing of any form – but I need to have that life, I can’t sit back and watch years go by and have more and more regrets of not doing things just because of the stuff that my abusers have locked into my head.

It is to a large point, very stupid to actually know that the world isn’t as scary as my abusers lie to me it had been, that those bad people in society were actually them and they are rarer than they make out and they are actually the worse of the lot.  It is stupid to know this and still be scared of the world.

I read a book recently which is very timely – “The Midnight Library” by Matt Haig, about a woman who lived her life in regrets and got a chance to undo those regrets by having alternate lives, therefore getting a chance to redefine herself time and time again.  There is a quote from that book which resonates to me very deeply “life fright”.  There are other quotes from that book which really connected to me too…

“If you aim to be something you are not, you will always fail. Aim to be you. Aim to look and act and think like you. Aim to be the truest version of you. Embrace that you-ness. Endorse it. Love it. Work hard at it. And don’t give a second thought when people mock it or ridicule it. Most gossip is envy in disguise.”

― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

“The only way to learn is to live”

― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

“Sometimes just to say your own truth out loud is enough to find others like you.”

― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

That’s what I am doing, saying my truth loud enough, to not only start to throw off the burden of my past and to heal from it, but to stand tall and let the world know I am here and to ultimately find my tribe as it were!

Future posts on this blog will include my new diet ideas, plans, because recently I found out a lot of my illness is due to the fact that I am allergic to a lot of food!  Gluten, lactose, eggs, pineapples, flax and beef gelatine to name but a few;

I will also include, my weight loss plan

My art and photography

YouTube videos I may start at the end of the year

My skill development and so forth

I am also watching copious amounts of self-improvement videos on youtube lately, especially Blush with me Parmita, a life coach! 

All this to sculpt me into who I am, not what people think I should be.

I my opinion I need to lose 85 pounds

I need to start thinking about makeup and changing my fashion not only to my preferred tastes but to make the best of my natural body shape, as for someone who is fat, I have a very strange narrow and defined waist and an envious shaped body, well this is the opinion of many people who have told me this, personally I don’t see it – but as I have learned from a lot of self-help books, you’re inner critic needs to be ignored as it never sees the truth regarding yourself.

I consider myself hideous in every single way, yet I get a lot of attention from people about how pretty and unusually young I look for my age – I have had people interested in using me as a plus size model and hair model, but I get really hurt and confused by this, because I just see a hideous monster in the mirror!

I don’t understand how some people reckon I look like Meryl Streep that totally confuses me!

I need to start becoming more independent.

I need to start doing more art and writing and actually getting it published not only on my blog, but approaching agents too, because I keep sitting back wondering what was that movie I wanted to watch again?  To then remember that it was a book I have in my head that I have written and the movie doesn’t exist yet.  My primary motivation for writing is that I enjoy it, but also because I want to see my stuff turned into movies – I know that’s pretty pie in the sky, but that’s my dream – I think ultimately I would rather make movies than write, but there you go!

I write the books I want to see acted out on stage or on TV basically; I write the stuff I wish there was more of.

So it’s a vast change, I am already exhausted just thinking about it, especially as I have such severe health problems, nobody, not even the doctor is sure yet, if something I have is terminal yet; covid19 has caused a lot of investigative delays!

But I don’t care if I live or die and yes, part of my mental health problems is the fact I have been struggling with suicide for the last 7yrs, primarily because I am sick so often that my life isn’t really worth living, because any movement is pain!  So I guess that is one of the major factors why I am going to push myself now, if I push myself into exhaustion and collapse by changing myself so quickly, then so be it, but at least I died trying!

So there you go, it is not a New Year’s resolution, this has been brewing for some time now, but now I have had enough!

Speak soon xxx

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Filed under Defining myself

Confessions and rants

I have a couple of horrible confessions to make! 

The reasons why I have not been producing new blog posts, especially during lock-down is because I find it hard to write at all when my son is home from school, because he is very demanding and unforgiving regarding my work.

Another reason is because I moved my computer again, because my old desk broke and I have a new one that is very uncomfortable and it took me ages to get used to typing again at different angles. 

My health has never fully recovered from the ‘supposed’ bronchitis I had at Christmas, which Paul and I suspects was probably one of the UK’s first ever Covid19 cases, because it was particularly bad and is still partly with me.

But ultimately, people have gone crazy during lock-down and I am finding it hard to be active on social media recently – the drama llamas, the ‘I am so much more special than everyone else and suffering more than anyone else in this lock-down fiasco’ attitude, I have virtually lived in lock-down all my life, so I find it very grating!  I am also very frustrated because of lock-down, because most of my life I have been forced into isolation and it has been only for the last five years I have been truly free to do whatever I want, only for fate to take over and decide that I am going into isolation again – the story of my fucking life!

Whoever created me is determined to make sure I don’t have a full and happy social life.

I keep getting the feeling it wants me to reside myself to that and I don’t want to.

Because I knew my posts would be mostly ranting about how hard done by I am regarding the fates, I haven’t posted until now.

Poor excuses I know and I have had writer friends email me on Facebook telling me that this is a prime opportunity for me to post on my blog as there is a wider community ready to read my stuff because of sheer lock-down boredom, I didn’t take the bait, but since lock-down is loosening in the UK and various British social media posts are becoming (if at all possible) a little saner I feel I can go back onto social media without losing my mind too.

But I have to say it – lock-down has been fantastic really, especially in the creative community.  The entertainment community has vastly improved in my opinion, the innovation that lock-down has caused has been amazing.  Also, people of my generation and younger are actually starting to care more about other people and are actually getting off their arses to learn how to fucking cook and sew, which is great and a skill everyone should have, not just because they’re bored!  I mean come on, for thousands of years women have cooked from scratch and made their families clothing, why is it that in the past fifty years it’s been different?  Laziness that’s why!  Don’t you dare attack me for these statement feminists, it’s great to be a feminist and all of that, but you got to know how to bake a fucking cake for Christ’s sake!

You have got to know how to feed and clothe your family if the system falls down – take a leaf from the scout’s book – ‘BE PREPARED’!  What good is it that your nails are nicely manicured and painted and you slag off men – if in the crux of a societal meltdown you’re burning your house down to feed your family and you’re dying of the nuclear winter because your sewing and/or creative skills are non-existent? 

Take a moment to think on that please.  I hope lock-down due to Covid-19 has shown people that nothing is permanent and everything can falter, hugely at any given moment, I think this is a valuable lesson to show people to not divert away from too much traditional housekeeping.  Remember, as a woman you should be proud of your heritage more than men, because ultimately you keep men going by feeding them, clothing them and keeping their families together!  That’s powerful and the feminists I know don’t see the power that women REALLY do have with the traditional aspects of our cultures.  It’s a shame many traditional skills are being lost because of this illusion that to know how to cook and sew means you’re not being valued as an equal member of society, it’s a stupid illusion and needs to fucking change!

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Self Isolation Experience

As the world is forced into self-isolation, many aren’t coping, both physically and mentally; but there are some (introverts not included) which to them, it is a way of life; many not by choice or design and I am one of them.

It has taken me a time to write this, because I was not sure what to really say on the matter until now, purely because up until now, I didn’t think much of the world would understand the frustrations and things that I do in self-isolation before this moment in time.  Now I think or rather hope, that I would become crystal clear in what I am about to say and with a depth of understanding from those who are now forced into a similar situation by forces not of their own design too.

The isolation I have been forced into throughout my life by my mother, is entirely different to this pandemic, there was no fatal disease which could have affected me during that time, nor was there any government ruling set about to enforce my mother’s commands, though saying that, to me (at the time I was living with my mother) her word was law and any deviation from that law was harshly punishable.

My life in isolation day to day was like this;

There was no real schedule outside of dinner time, my day to day life was higgledy-piggledy and often turned upside side with the craziest stuff going on most of the time, there was in a word (insecurity), there was no predictability in my day.  The only things I could rely on to be part of my day were, cleaning and eating dinner at 4pm on the dot.  I was taught there was no comfort or security within the home, because nothing would remain the same day to day – in a literal sense.  My mother suffered from OCD which meant she cleaned everything thoroughly and demanded that everyone in the house do her crazy cleaning rituals too with her, with the exception of dad because he worked – even if I went out to work occasionally on the times she allowed me to, it didn’t apply to me.  Cleaning wasn’t so bad, but her obsessions to have a constant supply of household projects were both wasteful and sometimes downright silly.  She would move the furniture around the house a lot, just for the sake of it and often she would end up putting the furniture back in the same way it always is by the end of the day unhappy with her new lay out – sometimes those lay outs would last for weeks, but often it would go back to the same old design.  It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a table now and again, but it was entire rooms being moved in one day!  You was never warned when this would be, sometimes it would have started before I even woke up in the morning, sometimes it would start after dinner and there were even occasions she started it around midnight!

She would also have decorating projects, where she would re-carpet, or laminate a room and expect it to be done in a day maybe two days at most, painting walls was very popular with her, we did this more often than we should have.  Redesigning the garden was another love of hers, constantly moving plants around and then wondering why her favourites die so easily.  She never liked to leave the house more than three times a week herself for shopping or visiting, but would often insist in going out every day even for 20 minutes for walks.  Funnily enough even when we had dogs, the dogs would usually be left behind whilst we, the owners go for a walk without them – which was something that never made sense to me – as a consequence our dogs were usually classed as obese by the vet.

When going for walks, other than the neighbourhood gossipers, mum wouldn’t talk to anyone no matter how friendly they seemed.  Often she couldn’t be bothered with the neighbourhood gossipers and would literally drive to another street within a 3 mile radius and walk around there, so she didn’t have to talk to anyone.  But one or twice she would walk the same places so often, their own local gossipers would come out and talk to her, thinking she was another neighbour from nearby, when that happened, she would avoid the area for several weeks.  My mother never liked me standing with her when she was talk to other people, even when I was an adult, she would often require me to walk away and come back occasionally and she would give me secret hand signals to tell me roughly how long she will tolerate this person and what the conversation might be about.  She had her secret codes to talk to me, so others never knew how she was controlling me and my actions and even my own conversational input.

I was taught this by her aggression after events happened, she would tell me what she did and how I should have reacted and often told me that other people in the world would understand what she did, but because I don’t go out and is active in the world, I haven’t learned these basic social instincts.  I learned through my therapist that what she said was bullshit.

Sometimes mum would catch herself out, if we had a visitor sometimes she would absent-mindedly call me into the room, give me her secret signals which were both hand movement, sitting positions and various snorts which could be mistaken for her clearing her throat but I was taught that was a sign of displeasure and to please steer the conversation for her.  Sometimes people were so used to the idea that when they visited I was the tea maker that if I was called in and mum didn’t say anything to me about the tea or spoke to me at all, that they felt they had to remind mum to prompt me to make more tea for them as obviously, that was the reason she called me in, wasn’t it?  As rude as it may seem, they often did this; most of our visitors were family or rarely long-standing friends and Jehovah Witnesses.

Although we had visitors and talked to neighbours my life was socially isolated in that I was only allowed minimal conversation with them and was often shooed away with mums secret language to me, we would visit one person a week on average, sometimes we would visit more depends on either what mum wanted from them or what the person was going through at the time.  Again, we could be sitting at another person’s house for several hours and during that time I would probably have said less than ten sentences in all of that time by mothers prompt.  It was usual though that she would encourage me as entertainment occasionally, where I was made to play spiritualist as it were.  As I have a clairvoyant talent and I also do various readings, such as tarot and things.  This was the only time I was allowed to talk as much as I liked to whomever I was supposed to be entertaining.  Another thing I was allowed to do was to talk as much as I liked about philosophy, religion and spirituality; but even there, there was a limit to how much I could say and for how long.  Sometimes mum would give me permission to mock her, be cheeky to her to liven things up and make it seem like I had a personality of sorts.

It all may seem very strange to those who have had a normal life and upbringing, but to me at the time, I thought it was normal stuff, because my mum would often tell me, that this is how the world is.  Everything is finite, there is a finite way about people that as someone who is not worldly, doesn’t understand and that is why, when I socialised independently I got myself into embarrassing situations because I misread the person.  Often I reacted to other people based on how my mother interacted with me and the other person, obviously being unaware totally misread me or felt I had a split personality as I would often drift in and out of conversations quickly, thinking I have displeased them in some way, but no one understood what I was on about and to be honest, they shouldn’t have as it isn’t normal.

My activities also included gardening, I gardened a lot, I would garden a small collection of flowers but most of the florals I wasn’t allowed to touch or even learn about as my parents were possessive of them, as strange as it is, they would not teach me a thing about them at all, not even their names.  My main gardening duties were the fruits and vegetables that my mum wanted for that year, I was also allowed a small area entirely of my own which included herbs and a couple of small tightly controlled trees, which at the time I never knew would have been called a bonsai version – which generally just meant heavily pruned and small in size.  I wasn’t allowed to tell anybody that I did the gardening as much as I did, I was only allowed to mention my designated section, not the other work I did for my parents – that was their glory and they fiercely protected their reputation for being amazing gardeners.  So I had learned from an early age that I had to swallow my pride and see all my hard work as the credit to someone else other than me, I even had to lie for my parents to make them sound amazing and even praise them for the work.  Basically I knew, that I was praising myself but mum was prompt in reminding me when visitors had gone that I was not to feel proud of myself for what they had said, because I would never have done it if it weren’t her wishes for me to do so, so I had no right to take pride in my work because it wasn’t really my work.  I just cared for it for her that is all, the credit will always be hers.

My dad was very sweet, he would occasionally tell people that I did it and taught them whatever about certain things, but mum would often attack dad for it when visitors were home as she felt shown up.

I was taught to cook for my family from the age of seven, everything from full English breakfast, lamb stew to meat and potato pies.  I would cook the main dinner for the house approximately three times a week, sometimes more, but I mostly made lunch which would be anywhere between 11am and 3pm depends.  Come what may, main dinner was always 4pm, except for Sundays and special occasions, where it would then be a 2pm dinner.  Some Sundays I would visit my paternal grandmother and would have to consume two full roast dinners in one day, one with gran around noon and another when we get home to see mum around 6pm, because mum would anticipate we were fed at grans, so would knock Sunday roast dinner back by 2 hours.

My other gran didn’t have a specific day for being visited, because she was a fully mobile and energetic old lady who would quite often visit us and stay the night, or sometimes she would manage to steal me from my mother for the day or for a night at her house; which I loved, despite the very different and contrast environment of her home compared to my mums.  My gran was the total opposite of my mum, not house-proud at all, just saw home as a place to sleep and store stuff she liked.

When I was with my gran, she demanded total independence from me.  I had to be responsible for myself and as she was elderly, I had to help her, which meant going out alone and fetching things for her, walking her dog called Star and giving messages to other relatives around the area as they were all more or less neighbours within 10 streets of each other.  I had to make her tea too and occasionally she felt that if I had a problem with how messy and unclean her house was, then I should deal with it how I see fit – which meant I was housekeeping for two people – my mum and my gran.  But with gran, it was a choice, it wasn’t expected.  At least with gran I got recognition and whenever I finished anything she would comment that I am such a good girl, now how about treating yourself to something from the chippy and getting me something to eat too?

I liked it when gran stole me from mum, because sometimes it would be for a few days at a time and gran never liked staying indoors for long.  She was an early riser and out the door within half an hour of waking up, going to random places, visiting other relatives on a whim, going to car boot sales and whatever, wherever, anywhere within a 4 hour car drive one way, was doable in a day!  Life was an adventure with this gran.  Where my mother was obsessed with not going out much unless necessary and cleaning and decorating her house, my gran (her mother) was obsessed with going out, living day to day and avoiding housework full stop!

I think my gran had such a carefree attitude to life because she nearly died on several occasions throughout her life, she was born with a heart condition, lucky to live, had her first open heart surgery when she was 14 and has a new operation approximately every 2yrs throughout her whole life, more heart attacks and deep vein thrombosis than you could count along with haemophilia because of warfarin use.  To say my gran was a very lucky person is an understatement!  This includes finances too, she wasn’t rich, but she was never put in a situation of being too needy as she had the luck of the devil as she calls it.  At her direst she would often feel it is time to go bingo-ing and would often win big prizes, sometimes she didn’t even have to leave the house, as she often did government bonds and would get letters proclaiming big prizes, once for 20k!  I was one of the 5 grandchildren gran offered to take to Florida’s Disneyland but mum wouldn’t let me go, so she chose someone else, gran was angry about that as I was more into Disney than the other gran kids.  But what made gran more pissed off was the fact that mum put it about the family that she never even asked me!  Mum often lied, but was rarely caught out.

It is hard to stomach hearing someone slag off at every opportunity someone you know to be almost super hero like in quality to you, always spilling nasties out about them to someone who doesn’t know them.  Mum absolutely hated my gran, but only tolerated her because of a promise she gave to my grandad on his death bed, when grandad begged mum to look after my gran for him.  Grandad knew the hatred between gran and mum, mum never forgave grandad for putting that on her.  As mum said, if it wasn’t for what he said, she would have abandoned gran the moment he died.

People often asked why tolerated gran mum if there is so much contempt, but mum would never answer them, she used to use me to steer the conversation to something else.  The contempt was plain to everyone, because mum constantly spoke down to my gran and I think gran only tolerated it because of two things, she knew I needed a break from mum occasionally and stayed for me, and secondly, nobody else would tolerate her either as they were too busy.

Sometimes mum would try and stop my relationship with gran for a while, by sending me away to other relatives to live, so our relationship stalled.  Gran caught mum out a couple of times as she would drive all the way from Burnt Oak, North London, to Market Drayton in Shropshire to visit her daughter and to see me, just for the day, which is why mum decided to concentrate more on dads family.

When I wasn’t required for entertainment, cleaning or companionship, my days consisted of playing games on my PlayStation or the internet, writing vampire stories and reading horror books and books on spirituality.

Basically, I was kept too busy to harp on the fact that I was both lonely and stuck indoors most of the time, which I think is a key thing for self-isolators to learn.

As my mum often did, she did a spring clean of the whole house once or twice a week, gardening, if you don’t have a garden do window box or window sill gardening.  Read books, knit, sew, make your own clothes, draw, paint, write something, read magazines, play your with pets, do something with your kids, re-arrange your furniture.  There is always something to blooming do, so do it. 

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