Tag Archives: neglect

January 15, 2023 · 18:24

Broken things

This has been bugging me for a while now.  Around once every six to eight months something breaks down in this house – usually Henry’s laptop or power supply.  Since Henry was seven years old it has happened regularly, he will be thirteen in May.

I learned the second time it happened that we should really be strict with how Henry uses his laptop; Paul still hasn’t learned this and is endeavouring yet again to try to afford buying a new power supply for Henry – just so the screaming fits about not having laptop access, stops!

The power supply breaks because Henry is a mindless twiddler, he twiddles on the sofa at the power supply cable mindlessly and ignores us when he is on it.  I told Paul that Henry is on the laptop too much every day, so an hour to maybe an hour and a half should be his limits and the power supply should be plugged in when he isn’t using it!

However Paul lets Henry have the laptop every waking second the boy wants it!  He is on his laptop more than I use mine!  As soon as Henry wakes up in the morning around 7:15am he is on that laptop, spooning his cereal into his mouth whilst playing Roblox until it is required for him to get dressed by 8am to leave the house by 8:20am, often leaving the laptop on to die out whilst he is at school!  To me this is and always has been unacceptable, to Paul it’s convenient.

As soon as he comes home from school at 3:25 he raids the kitchen cupboard for several snacks, plonks himself down in front of his laptop again and mindlessly eats until we say stop, or take the food away, usually with huge tantrums in tow!  He will struggle to get off the thing to come and sit at the dining table for dinner and will rush his food to be back on it ASAP until bedtime! 

The arguments I have had with both Paul and Henry over this and I have exhausted myself, because nobody cares what mama has to say – I’m a nobody here! 

Whenever it is the weekend or Henry isn’t at school he is on the laptop from around 9am when he will usually wake up until his bedtime’s which school is usually around 11pm if there isn’t the next day.  Again to me, this is highly unacceptable!

But for Paul, it’s convenient, because whilst he is on the laptop he is relatively quiet; whilst he is on the laptop he isn’t making messy robots and Lego designs or doing messy art!  Whilst he is on the laptop he is out of the way!

I am always made to feel unreasonable by both Paul and Henry if I were to criticise this routine they have.

I am such an unfair parent who doesn’t want him to have any fun; I just want to take away his freedom and happiness, because I like hurting him apparently.  Henry is allowed to say these things to me when Paul listens on, Paul says nothing other than tell me that he is alright, leave him alone, at least he isn’t getting in the way of the ironing or the cooking etc.

So every six to eight months, Henry gets a new laptop replacement from Paul and we get extra credit debt, because of Henry’s carelessness and Paul’s idea of an easy life!

Just before Christmas our oven broke down, Paul went into credit to get another one, it isn’t paid for yet – then the microwave broke down around ten to twelve days later, that hasn’t been replaced and then the washing machine around two week ago, that hasn’t been replaced yet either – but Henry’s power supply breaks down and Paul breaks into savings to get him a new one immediately – because that’s how much Paul values convenience.

You have no idea how hard it is to keep my mouth shut about all of this!  Time and again it happens; time and again needful things are kicked under the carpet for that boys addiction to computer games!

What is worse is that recently Henry was weighed by the doctor and the doctor told us that Henry is becoming obese!  I saw it, Paul didn’t!

For a year I have been trying to get that boy off his butt to do the exercises he used to love doing – he used to love running in the local field training for marathons and this year he couldn’t be bothered to do his usual annual charity run – which I was disappointed in and he gave up litter picking with the local environmentalists three months ago, purely because he wants more laptop time!

He is even starting to think about giving up his charity clubs that he goes to once every two weeks, because he loses a whole three hours a time away from his precious machine! 

Young Carers will do him well in hard times, he needs their support – but still he is considering giving it up, not worth it you see… he hasn’t the time you see, the club interferes with his plans!  Paul is OK with the boys obsession, I am livid by it!

I have always wanted an active, social family with strong family bonds – instead I get a bunch of bums who hate spending time with each other and often sit in separate rooms!

I am the only one who lifts a finger to actually tidy and clean anything in this house, but when I live with two people who addicted to their machines and don’t give a rats ass about how sick I am and what efforts I’ve put into the house – its hard to maintain.  I spend three hours cleaning one room because it’s excessively messy and dirty, only for the mess to be back all of the next day without any sign I have actually vacuumed the place at all!

You can clearly see my areas in the house, I am very territorial, my areas are spotless and organised the rest of the house is disgusting and sort of represents a junk yard or pack rat house!

The back garden is definitely a junk yard, old washing machines dumped out there with a rotten old sofa and computer desk because we can’t afford to get a skip and the junk man rarely comes this way anymore!

I find the whole thing, the whole house and the attitude of the family very humiliating, I am ashamed of the lot of it and Paul knows, because I’ve broken down in tears during my worst days telling him what I need in order to feel sort of normal again. But he whines like a kid and chants “I know, I know” it’s not like talking to another adult at all and to be totally honest – I don’t think he really does know what I am on about!

The other day, when I had my bout of suicidal thoughts and dark poems, it was such a day!  I told Paul again about how I can’t hack it anymore how I am trying and he snapped at me and said to me – “I do my fair share around the house, I do the cooking, the washing and the ironing” and I said that’s all you actually do though, that and cleaning the rabbit, you do nothing else, the house rots around you and you often forget to check on me or talk to me anymore!  He snapped and swore, he rarely swears “he said fuck it, I won’t do the laundry then, I won’t do anything anymore – I’ve had enough”!  So this is what happens when I ask for help – I get threats like this, that fewer things will get done.

I am afraid these days to ask anything extra of him anymore, because of these big outbursts!

I didn’t ask him to do anything other than to check on me from time to time, as he just doesn’t bother.   Even when I go downstairs to sit there, he will actively ignore me whilst he plays solitaire or a Facebook game. 

I was angry that day because I slept so long – I slept for thirteen hours solid, which is weird for me!  I didn’t wake up until 3:55pm, which is disgusting – but he didn’t once come and check on me to see if I was OK – his excuse was, he was busy hand washing the laundry all day and couldn’t spare the two minutes to check on me as he passed my room on the way to the only toilet in the house that he uses an average of once an hour because he drinks copious amounts of tea all day!

When I used to be very badly sick and bedbound, I was often afraid I’d die in bed and he wouldn’t find out until dinner or bedtime, the only two times per day I can actually guarantee he’ll look for me!

I once rose a concern to Paul how if I ever became paralysed or had a stroke, I’d die of neglect – the horrible thing about it is, he sincerely agreed as he wasn’t sure he could care for me either!

This was a huge wakeup call and this is why whilst I sat in bed several months ago I tried looking for bedbound to fit exercises on YouTube to try and help myself out of it.  But I had to do it in secret, because Paul doesn’t like knowing, I am doing anything out of the ordinary!

This is why my depression has been really bad since September. 

I am well enough now to spend around an hour a day cleaning, sometimes more – but you see I can’t!  Because either Paul gets in the way, or both Paul and Henry kind of leaves a trail of their mess behind me as I move to clean the next thing. 

When Paul suddenly knows I am cleaning a lot, he will (I believe) deliberately stop buying cleaning products to slow me down, as all of a sudden, he can’t find them in store or he had an unexpected bill so the bleach has to wait a week!

Yes, this house can go a whole disgusting week without bleach!

Paul claims he was never like this before I moved in – when I moved in I came with so much extra stuff, so that is why he can’t clean.  But you see it’s a lie, he was a pack rat before I moved in, I remember one of the first things I did when I moved in was to pull up all the carpets because of how thick the grime was in it that the whole carpet was hard like black gum and hundreds of silver fish crawled out as we pulled it up!

I wanted to go back to live with my mother so bad, but I grinned and bared it because I saw freedom and was intoxicated by it!

It took me nearly two years to get this house into a liveable state and remember I got pregnant within the first six weeks of living here, so it was no easy feat!

You have to also take into account, both gardens were severely overgrown and I levelled it all, by myself.

I was so proud by what I had accomplished and within six months of being ill – it’s like I never touched the place!

This is why I struggle to see the Brightside of anything these days, living in poverty with two pure bums.

I can’t really remember what true happiness feels like anymore, true relaxation or comfort, or even love… but then again, did I ever really know what love was?  I kind of had it once… funnily enough with another Paul – not this one, there was another Paul once… but that one let me down.

I kind of new love once I guess!

No doubt I will get an earful if Paul reads this, that’s another thing – he is becoming very watchful of all my online activities lately, which is making me wonder if he is actually jealousy looking for anyone who might show an interest with me.  It’s weird because there was a guy who liked me a few weeks back, but they reckoned someone warned him off.

Didn’t know who, they didn’t either.

Anyway, just a heads up and thanks for reading! 

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January 6, 2023 · 13:33

Maybe she couldn’t help it?

As hard as it might be to believe it, but I am starting to understand things a bit better about how I was treated as a child.

I am starting to realise as I am getting older that both of my parents were not really normal at all, I had my suspicions about my dad, but he was lovely, I kind of felt my mother was also a bit odd but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it… I presumed she was a bit off because she too, had a hard life – but no, there was more.

I may be entirely wrong with my suspicions, but it is making me wonder…

I’ll get to the gist shall I? 

I have been reading a book called “An adult with an autism diagnosis” by Gillan Drew, because I wanted to better understand my son Henry’s autism diagnosis better.  But as I was reading the book I realise more and more that the book was describing my parents!

Both had their obsessions, extreme OCD, both self-neglected when things went into turmoil in their lives, both were excessively awkward with strangers and would never leave the house if it meant leaving a specific three mile radius and would abandon trips altogether if they needed an alternate route because of roadworks or accidents.

Both had irrational ideas and were easily triggered into aggressive mood swings that held grudges sometimes for months and in some cases forever!

They also took everything literally, they never questioned what they were told and they were both excessively stubborn about any knowledge that they had.

Multi-tasking was also a trait none of them had; they were easily flustered whenever they had to do more than one thing at a time and were easily irritated by sudden changes of plan.  Everything in their lives were run by a tight schedule and outside of that schedule they were easily lost and confused.

The main trait of autistic parents according to the book is emotional distance from people, especially their children, though they focus on them a lot and they will do everything for the child in usually a suffocating manner, they often neglect their emotional needs.  They often fail to comfort their child, or cuddle them or support them verbally, but are quick to criticisms if it is outside of their idea of perfection.

I remember my parents thinking that cuddles was silly, get off, what do you think you are doing?  Do you think that is appropriate?  I remember my parents cancelling things if it meant that their dinner had to wait even by fifteen minutes, because the idea of not eating dinner by 4:30pm every day except Sunday was alien to them!

I know a lot of the time my mother would refer on the telephone to relatives she respected about the behaviour of all of her children and based on their advice she would change her parenting method quickly and react to whatever was suggested to her.

Throughout most of my childhood the parenting was delegated as much as possible, I was passed onto relative to relative a lot of the time and in between that she arranged for live in help in the form of au pairs and home helps.

Sometimes my mum would let me get away with things because in her opinion she didn’t see that something was wrong, if someone mentioned that it was wrong to her she’d instantly panic and respond in a very aggressive and often violent manner in the embarrassment that someone else had judged her.

All of these things are very much like a high on the spectrum autistic parent.

This would totally explain to me the constant inconsistencies in her parenting style and her ways and how extreme she was.

I know she hasn’t been diagnosed with autism because she has lived in a time where those things were not widely known, but I do know that my mother went to a prove school and was expelled for her behaviour a lot of the time and she had psychiatric tests a lot throughout her childhood because of her strangeness.

My dad isn’t so high up in the spectrum I think; I think he is just socially awkward and easily manipulated by my mother.

My mother had what I called “flaps” she often had to try and control herself, it is making total sense to me now and it is a confusing emotion to consider forgiving her because she may have had this condition and didn’t know any better!

Seriously, that is what is going through my head right now.

Her behaviour on many occasions was inexcusable, but I never once considered that she isolated me because she was suffering from social anxieties herself – because throughout my childhood she kept saying it was I who was not normal and that she simply didn’t socialise because she didn’t have the time or energy because of running a family and a home along with ridiculous work schedules. 

I didn’t realise when I grew up that most of the people she socialised with were in actual fact distant relatives and not friends at all!

This fact only came about near the end of my nans life as she revealed several family friends to be 3rd to fifth cousins and then it was confirmed on GenesReunited on more than one occasion that it was true!

Yet growing up I was led to believe my mum was cool and extroverted and wild, because of her stories and ways.

How she berated me for being a strange creature who was the complete opposite to her.  She said she feared that I was too trusting of strangers and that I didn’t know how to properly behave in public as I am too forward and innocent all at once, that strangers would get mixed signals from me!

Every therapist I have ever gone to has felt that socially there doesn’t seem to be anything amiss – that perhaps some of my problems are based around my mother putting scary thoughts into my head – but to them they thought I was rather mature and worldly and acting very appropriately in fact splendidly.

It’s very strange to consider I got this book to understand my son, but instead it made me understand my mother!

I remember growing up and hearing my mother ask me why I would do such and such and to have me explain things to her almost constantly and she would always ask me why I reacted that way!

I often used to cry about not being cuddled or having attention as much as other children with their parents – she honestly looked awkward and frustrated and often said “why is that important?  I don’t like to do this, so you should respect that – why can’t you just understand I am not the cuddly sort of mother”?

It was bad enough her rejecting me, but when I was around ten years old my dad started to say he won’t cuddle me anymore because my mother finds it inappropriate now!

Henry doesn’t like cuddles either he doesnt understand how they are important in families.

She was always asking me why about everything –why is this important to you, I don’t think that should be, you should think this way instead (her way).

She’d also never understood how people had their own hobbies, likes and dislikes and would easily get offended if you said you didn’t like something that she liked.

She always tried to tell me that as we have a mother and daughter relationship, it is the daughters duty to be as much like her mother as possible, therefore I should endeavour to dress like her, think like her, choose the same hobbies as her and want to be with her as much as possible doing things as a team!

She couldn’t fathom for the life of her that things don’t work out that way!

She was so self-absorbed that for years I didn’t realise that brushing teeth and washing outside of the once a week on a Sunday bath was important, until other relatives I lived with raised concerns about my hygiene standards when I was thirteen!

When I told my mother about this conversation, she said that she presumed I would know to have done it, because she did it to me right up until I was 5yrs old and she presumed that I would carry it on now I knew the basics… no children don’t work like that… children don’t understand those sorts of things unless you tell them specifically and remind them regularly!

When I moved in with Paul in 2009 my mother couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t have the usual meal time schedules, why I had breakfast now whereas in London I never had one – why I don’t do lunch at 12:15pm sharp instead it floats around 1pm to 3pm and why on Earth is dinner anywhere between 6:30pm and 8pm when it should be 4:30pm? 

Why do I now have an 11:15pm bedtime and a 5:45am wake up time? 

Why do I insist in going out at 8am every morning for a long walk?

Why do I want to have yellow and purple walls instead of ivory white?

Why am I wearing pink instead of black and white all the time suddenly?

Why… why… why…

Why can’t I be like her?

She couldn’t cope with all the changes, the idea of travelling up to visit me made her ill because it was an hour and twenty minute car journey, a whole 87 miles too far!

The panic of me leaving home caused her to phone me approximately twenty five times a day!

When she temporarily moved in with me because I wasn’t coping a the last month of pregnancy as I needed bed rest due to chronic oedema and blood pressure – she went around the house changing furniture to her taste, painting my walls her colours and throwing out anything she found ugly whether I wanted to keep it or not, whether they were special things of                 Paul’s or not too!

She couldn’t understand when I had my baby, that my baby was priority over everything, including her!  She was hurt and often whimpered and cried if I ignored her to attend to my baby, because I never used to just ignore and abandon her when she spoke to me.  She really didn’t understand the transition!

All of this makes me wonder if my mother was a high functioning autistic person.

It makes me wonder if she deserved my sympathy because she really didn’t understand anything at all and still probably doesn’t understand why I decided I had enough of her controlling, aggressive and oftentimes childish ways.

I remember before I decided to wash my hands of her, I told Paul; my mother is harder work than our two year old over there!  He is a doddle; she is driving me around the twist and endangering him with her stupid antics!

Thanks for reading!

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December 24, 2022 · 00:01

Universe is throwing things at me

In some dreams, quite abruptly and aggressively too!

But they are nice and useful things.

For the past three months I have been having a dream regularly, its main themes are quite repetitive and they are very odd and not like my usual dreams.

You all have read before about my dreams about neglected found babies turning into food right?  Well there has been another repeating dream which is less disturbing.

This dream is where I am often eating in the dining room of my parents’ house in North London but I can’t finish what I am eating because there is some kind of chore I need to do in their garden, usually putting pets back into their pens or hutches, bringing the dog in or feeding a pet.  But just as I open the door a huge earthquake or sometimes thunderstorm occurs and I am forced out into it, because the animals aren’t safe out there! 

Usually the animals were fine and I found that I didn’t need to do anything at all, because my parents were wrong that they were out of their enclosures or that they had nothing to eat or drink – sometimes I discover that the animals are severely neglected or have out bred their enclosures and I am worried what to do, it changes from dream to dream.

Sometimes in these dreams I am still in my parents’ house and garden, but I live there with Paul and Henry and I argue with Paul about the state of the animals and in the dreams with Paul sometimes those animals are killed by the flood of the storm or have run into a neighbours garden that has a vicious dog, or their enclosures have fallen into the garden pond somehow.

But the main thing that stands out from these dreams is the fact that when the storm stops suddenly, it brightens up into clear blue skies quickly and that sky melts away quickly too, the entire atmosphere has gone and we are exposed to seeing the universe right before our eyes.   Big planets, the moon, the stars, seen very clearly, some planets oscillate becoming bigger and smaller like they are being swung on pendulums and sometimes things fall from the universe into the garden.

When I look at those things they are usually maps, jewels, coins and letters, though sometimes it has been known to rain rabbits and guinea pigs..  The letters are always snatched away from me so I can’t read them, but when I read a map I sometimes find myself floating upwards and out of our world into space and I am given a choice in the map of where to go, where things will be less turbulent for me.

Sometimes I allow myself to go, other times I panic about going and suggest I need lots of safety measures like breathing equipment, a ship etc., all of which is provided by the universe as I fret about it, all being thrown down into that garden for me.

Sometimes when I choose to go in the safe way, near the end of my journey everything breaks away and I have a huge panic attack about not surviving, only for me to gently land in the middle of a hospital where a doctor asks me why I am wasting their time, as I am absolutely fine!

I am then lead out into a carpark by a kindly nurse who then leads me to a man sitting a very posh car, sometimes a limousine and I am always shocked by who it is.  I am always like… “Oh, it’s you” in an excited kind of way and its usually then I wake up, when they either wink or laugh.

Strange dreams, but apparently there are soon to be strange times…

My tarot cards have been telling me amazing things about how someone is coming into my life soon and how my entire world is going to be turned upside for the better – but when I dig in and ask for more information, they tell me it’s a huge secret, don’t pry, don’t worry, don’t ask – all you are allowed to know is it is a soul connection, you will both be on creative teams together and you will both succeed together in everything you set out to do and you will marry quickly… it’s all weird.

Thanks for reading!

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November 1, 2022 · 11:15

Vanity & suppression

I have been thinking about the YouTube channel I am going to set up after Christmas a lot, I have been trying to think about what it should be mostly about.  People like themes, they don’t like random people no matter how authentic they are, or do they?

I mean, I like a lot of stuff and I would like to do a lot of stuff – I don’t want to be bored with the same old same old, you know?

I want to sometimes read out my poetry to people, I want to share gardening tips and recipes and my journey through weight loss and other things.  I don’t want to just be a gardening vlog, or a beauty and fitness vlog or a writing vlog.  I want to do the whole caboodle, now people say, sure you can do this but have multiple channels, but I don’t really want to do that.

If I had multiple channels, then I will need to film and edit every day for a once a week post on each and that is taking up more time than I want to do.

Plus I am none too thrilled about the editing process, I hate doing anything technical for too long.

One of my biggest desires in having a YouTube channel is to visibly show people my weight loss, fitness progresses.  But contrary to that there are two things I hate about it… the fame this could give me and the fact I have to show my fat ugly body and face on the camera, or else, what am I showing?

I’m paranoid enough without being famous!

Seriously, you have no idea how paranoid I am when a stranger points and looks like they are talking about me.  I mean… I can’t cope now, let alone when I know they know me… you know… at least right now I can put it down to me being a schizoid, of course they aren’t really pointing at me…. Until they then call me fat ass to my face and I am like… ok I guess they were then, rude!

I keep my mouth shut to people who shout that at me, primarily because I want to live.  But inside I want to shout out “Like your lip will be if you carry on mate”!

If people knew the attitude that goes on inside my head, I would have been murdered years ago!

I don’t like the idea of going out dressed up in a headscarf and huge sunglasses and learning to turn my head away from anyone as I walk past them like some super international spy!   

I just want to dawdle down the street in my scruffs on a lazy day, walking a dog, without it being splashed on the papers “TC bad hair day” or “TC midlife crisis” you know.

But then again, there are days where the attention whore comes out and it’s like “for goodness sake notice me, notice me, stop ignoring me, why am I being ignored when I have just walked down the street looking like a bowl of fruit”?

Thing is, I do like attention if I have to be honest with you.  But the problem is, on my terms and the world doesn’t work like that!

Fame scares me because of the stupid lengths some journalists will go to for a good pic and a front page position in their newspaper; it’s disgusting what some people will do to advance themselves.

When I was little I was famous for a few months in North London as being a pageant queen stripped of her rightful prize because of nepotism in the judging panel.  I remember someone taking me by the hand to pull me away from my mum so they got a perfect shot of me, The Angel of Burnt Oak!

That scared me, let alone the incidences with a couple of my more famous relatives.

The universe has wanted me to be famous for a long time, but I have always fought it.  My grandmother and some of the Romany relatives we have often sat down having fortune telling annuals for the family and from the age of seven they have all been convinced I will be a huge name in the world someday; though they said I will be late in getting that name.  I will be in my early forties.

They suggested even back then, that I am destined for greatness, I will find greatness myself, but I will find someone equally great to spend my life with.  They warned me I would have a child with a man but then I would leave him to start a second family quite late in life. 

Though I would start all this late in life, my legacy would be huge and I would be like Shakespeare or Charles Dickens in how long my fame will last.

Vanity, I know – I know its vanity and I would hold my hands up and say, you think I am bad for this now?  You should have seen me when I was thinner and I felt prettier than I do now, then you’d know how vain I really can be!

I even have a playlist called “Vanity” where you will find songs on it such as “keep young and beautiful” by Annie Lennox, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile” by the musical Annie and “beautiful and dirty rich” by Lady Gaga!.

So yes vanity has always been part of what I call “my true” personality, but it has been badly abused and supressed over the years.  Make no mistake, I don’t think I am beautiful, but I do know there’s a lot of people who said I am and although I don’t believe them, I take their word for it; as the world isn’t generally nice about that sort of thing, unless it’s true and I know a lot of beautiful people who hate themselves too.

I used to obsess over my looks a lot because I can’t stand it when another woman notices; you forgot to do your eyebrows today, omg you have no lip liner, just lipstick? 

I can’t afford to be vain anymore; I don’t have the budget for it.  But when I got sick in 2014 I totally let myself go because my illness made me bedbound and for a while we thought I had some type of cancer, but it wasn’t. 

I also thought, nobody is interested in me with a child and I am approaching forty, why bother?  Especially with my baggage. 

But I have been doing a lot of inner child therapies lately and its waking the true me up again – I love it, but I also hate the idea of people seeing my changes and thinking I am trying too hard to impress others or that I am being pretentious, when in fact I am actually becoming my more authentic and very supressed self! 

As a child, before my mother started to peel me apart from the age of 7yrs I used to love standing in front of people performing for them, singing, acting, dancing, showing off and being my beautiful self in such cocky little way!  This I believe is one of the reasons behind why my grandad called me “cocker” because I was cocky before my mother got her nails into me!

It’s funny but I started to get fat around the time mum started to hate me and supress me, before that, when I had her love and support, I was blooming marvellous and hadn’t a care in the world, I could move mountains with my confidence. 

She insisted she needed to hold me down though, or I was going to the devil, she especially freaked out when I got the notion of burlesque – a thing I saw on TV thanks to my grandad and uncle watching it and predicting that will be me when I am older, mark their words! 

My grandma said if I turn out like that, I’d definitely be following her mother’s footsteps as she was a cancan dancer and burlesque performer!  Imagine that, my great grandma a cancan performer! 

As a child my biggest career dream was to be a fashion designer but my mother worked like a woodpecker on my confidence when she found this out and wouldn’t encourage anything that might be connected to fashion and destroyed my sense of self love as much as possible to get this stupid dream out of my head.

Yet, ironically, it was she who’d force me into the pageants until I became embarrassingly fat for her and she told me she was ashamed to be seen in public with me because of it.

So yes, given the right environment, the right sense of self, I am a vain creature and attention whore to boot and my mother did everything possible to knock me off the pedestal I was on, because she felt the way I was going my life would be filled with sin if she didn’t act cruel to be kind.

But I have tried hard not to be vain, narcissistic or to reach too high – because I can’t stand the reactions from people like my mother who are vitriolic and jealous or greedy to try and do something to you to either destroy you or make entertainment out of you.

I have to say it has been a battle that’s been with me my whole life.  I want to be this great person that everyone admires and to be beautiful and loved, but I also don’t want the evil that comes with it.  You know?

I am on a weight loss journey, so I can be whoever I want to be unashamedly and with a little extra confidence – I will never have oodles of confidence, but I am going to fake it until I make it and I want to be a butterfly or better yet, a peacock!

As I’ve said before, I have had to learn to do everything on an emotional level alone – no support – no friends, nada.

It’s scary to think of what I could be if I am still alone, you know?  I need security, I mean emotional security.  Yeah sure, physical security, physical assistance is in abundance in the world, but it’s the emotional security that really counts.

I’ve never been taught to cope with grief or have my grief acknowledged by anyone.  I was always made to feel bad and selfish when I was sad and grieving a loss.

Told I am a stupid girl who needs to snap out of it, snap out of the idea my grandpa has just died, the same grandpa who I lived with for the last 3 months of his life as he died of cancer right before my eyes!

10yrs old and all I got was a pat on the head from my dad, nothing else from anyone else, when grandpa died, when I was still tearful after three days, people became aggressive with me – get over it you stupid girl stop going on trying to get attention for yourself!

All I wanted was a cuddle, some kind words, but being raised by adults who are all self-absorbed, obviously they don’t think about anyone but themselves.  They might have been a close family in that we had a massive family extended for five or even six generations that still maintained contact, but they were not supportive of each other.  They were not the kind of family that pulled together to grieve and help each other, they all go off into their own small groups or by themselves and the children usually end up forgotten.

When raised by people like this, is it any wonder then, why I cry when a stranger shows me kindness and goes out of their way to be nice to me and sympathetic?

Because I am genuinely not used to being treated with any kind of humanity!

I was raised like a thing, not a person.

I remember when I was in therapy groups as a teenager, I remember joking with my peers about how I wasn’t raised I was dragged up and spat out, reeled in and clout, clout, clout.

My peers though knowing it to be tragic laughed, the therapists cried and some refused to treat me as my case was so specifically hard, they needed a lot of mental time off from work, as hearing what I went through, broke them.

It happened to a lot of therapists, I often had them in tears when I recalled my normal daily life and they’d have to end sessions early.  I tried my best actually to hold back a lot because I needed the therapy, but some of them insisted I didn’t – my mother did.

I remember one therapist in particular was so aggrieved by what I went through, she broke all protocol just to give me a long, long tight hug as she cried and she told me, she so desperately wants to get me away from my parents and adopt me.  Then she came to her senses and she couldn’t be in therapy with me alone anymore, she had to have a colleague with her to maintain a professional standard.  This woman worked tirelessly to try and have me removed from custody of my parents, but she failed.

I was weirdly happy with quite a bit of my childhood until I realised that my parents weren’t normal, after seeing so many professionals break like that.  I really thought it was normal that at 7am you’re kicked out into the garden until lunch time, made to entertain yourself when you’re not at school with only a dog and a rabbit as company or the elderly neighbours talking to you over a fence.

At 12:15pm daddy comes home for lunch, perfectly normal to cook for him and yourself, eat your lunch and get out into the garden by 12:45 again until you’re called in for dinner at 4pm same routine, mums working night shift, you got to cook for everyone – then outside again until 7pm.

I thought it was perfectly normal to only bath once a week and nothing else and that in the summer your bath became the kids paddling pool, but with soap!

Of course it’s not, I know that now, but back then, it’s normal life!

I remember my mum when I was of legal age to drink getting excited that I was of age to become her drinking partner at nightclubs, but I was terrified of going to places like that and refused to go.  She was disappointed, but still tried to have drinking nights in with a slap up meal with her mates and tried to make me drink alcohol with her – “here love, drink more of this, you are more human after you’ve got a drink down you, you’re so tight otherwise… go on have another and another”.

She nearly poisoned me one night when I gave in to every temptation.  I got so ill I nearly needed the hospital, the hallucinations were really, really bad – she said it was only alcohol, but I never really knew.

Dad was furious.

I still went with mum to her mates, but I started to insist control in my drinks and never trusted anything given to me after that – I wanted to know my orange was just orange and not some exotic new type that mysteriously contained vodka or gin that they didn’t tell me about.

I am not tight; I will drink, but not enough to get drunk.

So yeah, all sorts of things could end up on my vlog, but I won’t make it a sympathise with me vlog.  It will all be upbeat or informative, nothing dull, nothing depressing; it will be my happy place.

I was thinking about being 100% authentic on there, no matter how tragic it is.  Doing all sorts of things, whether I get laughed at or not, because no doubt I will because I am cheeky – I am self-deprecating and I do stupid things, I am accident prone, I am just not graceful and clueless… it will be hilarious. 

I mean the other day, I was putting on something really tight and I struggled and I was hopping around the room like a Chinese vampire, trying to heave these darn pants on and I fell ass over tit on my face!

Don’t be surprised if that happens in the vlogs if I am brave enough to show my face!

Henry forgot his password to his Roblox game review channel he had, where I’d comment from time to time funny little quips now and again, interrupting his shows and he said if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have had as many views – because a lot of people loved the mum stuff.

We thought at the time, Henry was a budding “Morgz” because he did a lot of stuff with his mum didn’t he?

Well this post is getting a bit long now, so I think I had better end it here, sorry about that, just so much on my mind tonight.

Thanks for reading!

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October 11, 2022 · 23:42

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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August 31, 2022 · 11:15

Overcoming my obstacles

I am taking on a lot of new challenges lately all at once, Paul thinks I shouldn’t have done so much at once or at least tried to, but it’s just me all over – in at the deep end, always.

As well as trying to do the writing deadline for the 21st October 2022, I am also trying many new things to improve my health – one major thing which is leaving me zomped, is losing my reliance on caffeine.

I have a thirty five year caffeine addiction thanks to my lazy mother, who got me into cola drinks and Lucozade around the age of 5 for convenience sake! 

As a child I was too short to get drinks for myself because the sink was too high up and she doesn’t believe in the health benefits of bought mineral water or fruit juices and didn’t want me climbing on a step to do it either, so a lot of the time I went without water and diluted fruit juice drinks – instead, she kept a cupboard low enough for me to have access to drinks and snacks for myself whenever I liked, so long as it didn’t bother her – those drinks and snacks were cans upon cans of Pepsi, cola and bottles of Lucozade, the snacks were crisps, biscuits, bite size chocolates and cakes to my little heart’s content.

When I was nine a neighbour kid I befriended taught me how to climb up on the cabinets safely, but by then I was already addicted to caffeine.

When I first moved in with Paul, Paul was horrified to discover I had an addiction to Pepsi and cola in general so much so, that I was drinking an average of 3 litres a day with three coffees on top!

That’s how bad it was!

In recent years I have bought it down to just one or three glasses per day, which is still bad, but I am fighting a thirty five year addiction here! 

On the 20th of August I decided to go cold turkey and not put coffee, cola or Pepsi to my lips at all – the result is extreme tiredness and a permanent headache as well as the general shakiness and blemish outbreak which is resulting in my detoxification process!

I guess I am cheating in a way, because I have a chocolate flavoured protein shake round twice a week, but the calories are less and so is the caffeine in comparison to what I was consuming!

Because of how crap I feel at the severely reduced caffeine intake, I have gone into a quiet depression, which is making it hard for me to be online – as I am getting tearful whenever someone is nice to me.

Basically I have been quiet on twitter because I need to get a grip!

Along with Henry being home from school until the 7th September and going cold turkey from caffeine, I have to admit, I am struggling to do anything productive whatsoever other than stare at the TV not taking in what I am watching and basically feeling in a state of exhausted shock!

I never knew that caffeine can do this to someone, when they stopped!  Emotionally I feel like I have been on a rollercoaster, I feel highly stressed, crying at the drop of a hat and generally feel like I am going to die because of the palpitations I seem to be getting since stopping the caffeine!

Why am I doing this to myself?  To get healthier!

Am I deliberately trying to put obstacles in the way of my deadline – NO!  Paul has asked me this and it is definitely a NO!

I have started to do this because Pepsi in particular is becoming far too expensive for us these days and it is that or food – plus, I am doing it because it is starting to give me stomach ache whenever I drink it!

As for my October 21st Deadline – I know I won’t make it for the graphic novel main project I am working on, because I have chosen to do the art myself for it!

The novel I will be approaching publishers for is going through what I hope to be its last draft between the 7th September and the 21st October and that is going to be my debut novel – I hope!  It is a Christmas fantasy.

I need about another three to six months to hone my art skills enough for me to be able to feel confident that I can do the art myself! 

The problem comes at the fact that each picture can take me ninety minutes to six hours to complete!

Paul said this is ridiculous, this will mean that your AD project is going to take you two years to do all the pictures you’ve got planned in this list! 

OK, I realise that, but I had the idea that if I did just one picture of each character and gave this to another artist as an idea of the style I want, then that will drastically cut the time down – won’t it?

Well that’s my reasoning behind it anyhow!

Paul is very disappointed that project AD is not going to be my first; he had hoped the second one would be D1, but it’s not that either, it’s CS, my Christmas story.

D1, I am unhappy at the ending.

AD, I want to do the art.

CS is easier to get out faster as I have no interest in doing the art for that and I just want it to be a novella.

SP is another one of my current projects, but that is even more complexed than AD and there are at least twelve novels in that series and a series of that size is not a good debut risk for any publisher!

I could send out one of my finished vampire novels by the deadline, but again, they are a huge series or rather saga series, that I don’t have time to write them fast enough to sate a publisher or agent just yet!

I could do one of my two horrors, which are standalones, but at the moment the Christmas story is fresher in my mind!

I had thought just to sate people who believe I am not really a writer, that I should just choose one of my series to post on my blog, just to show you the work and can and do, do – but then Paul said what if it turns out to have been potentially a bestseller, then you’ve shot yourself in the foot all for the sake of naysayers!

Then I thought – he’s right, they’d love that, wouldn’t they?

I did think though, about turning some of my old poems into short stories for the blog and eventually my YouTube channel as mini art movies.

That idea is actually very exciting to me!

Happy reading everyone!

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June 9, 2022 · 11:15

Tropes and scenes loved and hated

Some writer friends have asked me to list what I definitely will not include in my stories and what I am likely to include in my stories in regards to themes and tropes and just general stuff.

Apparently it is a thing that’s going around where writers are starting to share that sort of thing?  Ok, here goes…

Too many romance scenes (sex scenes in my adult works possibly but not romance, gooey eye rolling load of old trollop nah huh ) – this is not for me and won’t be in my stories much if at all!  But do expect sex scenes frequenting some of my adult works! 

Unless the story has historical scenes, it is unlikely there will be silly gossiping women, I hate gossip!  The only time this is acceptable in my works is at the ladies cream tea afternoons in a Victoriana setting, but I do find writing these things cringe worthy, being a gossip is generally cringe worthy as it is! 

Technological explanations and scientific terminologies – I don’t have the brain for it – it will be basic stuff!  Oh this big blue square button does that and this round yellow one does this, character pushes said button and hey presto, that’s as nerdy as I get! 

Helpless women who lose their mind over men and forget to defend themselves because their love is in danger – the women in my stories generally have their heads together!  I mean I know for sure if I was a character in some of these books I have read, my reaction would be “I have my own problems, wait you wuss”!

Stereotypical monsters that just do evil because… hey… they’re monsters!  So overdone and totally unfair!  Not to mention, highly discriminating and endorsing discrimination… just saying! 

Emotionally bland or emotionally devoid scripts – I have read hundreds of pages of emotionally dead characters who keep on telling me about why they need to do something and get somewhere, but there is no real descriptive emotional output at all – it’s like, it’s their duty to have to think this way because it is expected, but generally there is no real feeling behind the words… you get me?  If you get me, you’ll see that I mean to say, that the character makes you feel like they are lying to both themselves and you as a reader! 

Mindless barbarians bonking heads for no other reason than they’re simply bored or want to be barbaric.  There is always a motive behind an action, tell me about it… not just the mindless violence! 

Slow paced stories, there has been books I have read where nothing at all moves the plot forward more than six pages at a time and that’s being optimistic!  I need something to happen on every page, it’s not hard to do!  No one wants the second scene to happen fifteen minutes later!

Repeating scenes already seen in the story or having characters lull over past memories again and again – yawns, boring!

Constantly reminding the readers how emotionally affected the person is about so and so, it is OK to mention it around three maybe four times in the whole book but please don’t take us back there in every single chapter!  We know, we read and understood it – doing this makes your readers feel like you think they are idiots who just do not understand – don’t do that to them!

Other than generalising height as short, tall etc and the build of the person as well as the colour of the hair or skin, please leave other things to the imagination unless those other features deeply affect the story in some way – like an eye patch or a scar on the chin which is why there is a revenge plot or something – but generally, let people use their own imaginations about who they want to play the part in their heads based on who they know with general outlines.

I love to write very descriptive body horror scenes because I love grossing people out, I understand this is not everyone’s cup of tea – but it’s what I do in my adult horror stories!

I love found family tropes and close family tropes, I love tropes where there is a small team working together towards the same goal!

I like write historical scenes and be descriptive about the environment and landscape around the character!

I write a lot about isolation and abuse, because it is something I have experienced a lot over the years, therefore I feel it is easy to write in a believable way.

I am very good at understanding the hidden aspects of society, the things that people can hide from others, the secrets, the lies, the behind closed doors of Mr and Mrs Ideal-Citizen, the underground stuff, the dirty nitty gritty aspects of life.

I am very good at writing different points of view because I have had a very rich life regards to socialising with different classes and types of people just by being moved from relative to relative.  I have lived with rich aunts and certain members of the aristocracy because on one side of my family we have a very old family – on another side of my family they are gypsies and farmers – another side were refugees, lots of different religions and class systems.  The list goes on! 

I find it easy to write from the perspective of a social worker and a teacher who is worried about their abused pupil/client and then write from the perspective of a junkie about to lose their child – I have seen these things unfold right before my eyes time and time again growing up!

One thing I have experienced time and time again from lots of different people and classes is suicide and sudden loss due to murder.

I have a huge interest in environmentalism, so pollution and innovation is something I like to put in most of my books.

Because I love comedy and prefer books and movies with comedy aspects, I do tend to like to throw in humour whenever I can, including in my darkest horror stories – I can’t help it; it always gets in there somehow!

I do love vampires and I have to say at least a third of my work will have some kind of vampire in there!

I love animal companions and so that will be a thing – particularly fond of anthropomorphic animals pretending to be human or whatever.

I like over the top comic hero and villain tropes, so that is another thing that will be seen a bit in my works.

There is likely to be someone who is rather off key in my stories, a batty old aunt, a batty young aunt, the green juice hippy weirdo and the generally bonkers type of person – or the harsh out of touch with their emotions type who is learning to soften themselves down a bit.

There will be women who save themselves and maybe even male characters! 

There will be lots of free range children living independently and causing chaos or massive changes in their communities.

There will be a lot of subterranean places too; in fact this is something that is seen in half of my stories so far!

People who are incredibly lucky when things aren’t really going for them!

Also, I will always end up being just ever so slightly corny…

So that’s what you can expect from me… I won’t say anything else on the matter, so please stop poking around…

Thanks for reading! 

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May 18, 2022 · 11:11

Open honesty and healing

Henry is my inspiration to keep on going despite the depression, Henry is my son and he turned twelve on Sunday.

Other than him, the other things which keep me going are things I have to work hard to find and think about – it can take some training to learn how to remove yourself from your present state and look at yourself as though you are a stranger or a friend. 

Most people can’t bear to look at themselves in a positive light, because most of them feel too attached to who they are, that they forget that everyone and everything is changeable and that if you just forget that you are you, for just a few moments, you can then see clearly and work things out in yourself. 

For me, I stand back and pretend I am as perfect as I want to be – I imagine seeing the imperfect me right in front of me (easier to do in front of a mirror) but instead of judging who I see, I imagine that I love this person tremendously, because they have potential that they do not see – that they are in effect = my child!  A child who is very sensitive and a child who has been treated badly by others, a child who you have rescued and adopted!

You have to see yourself this way, so that you act cautiously and lovingly towards this frightened, abused and mislead creature; because you are going to be the one who rescues it wholly, changes it for the better and you are going to be the one who will make it happy and healthy!

Don’t see this person as the adult it might be, see it as a very young child, because that will trick your brain, a good method in making it more believable would be to make yourself look more childish, dress the part and put a mirror at a lower level than you, so you are looking down (effectively making yourself look smaller).

This works for me at times, when I have the opportunity to be alone. 

For me, one of the biggest healing methods is the “inner child nurturing therapy” I have kind of learned about in dribs and drabs over the years.  Your parents were either good or not, but now you are an adult, you have to parent yourself and you must do it with the kindness of a good parent!

As a good parent, if something happens in your life that makes you uncomfortable or someone says or does things to you that makes you uncomfortable it is your responsibility to take it into hand and to tell the person that you don’t like it and to please stop.  You need to think in your mind, that this child needs someone to stand up for it and you are the only one who can do that, because this child needs to be saved from anymore turmoil.

In order to do this, you need to start understanding that you need to heal, you need to acknowledge the fact that you need change and that you and only you, can speak up about how things make you feel and to explain that this bad thing another person has done to you, is a trigger – so please stop.  If the person is a true out and out bully and they find amusement in this and continue their behaviour or it gets worse, then you need to remove yourself from this person or seek professional help via the police, because no one has the right to make you feel like a laughing stock for your sensitivities – no one has the right to do this to another person, so please stop taking their shit!

Would you tolerate a bully doing this to your adopted badly neglected and abused child?  If not, then why are you tolerating it for yourself?  What makes you different from that child?

Nothing, nothing at all!

You only believe you are worthless and you deserve it, because for so many years you have allowed other people to dictate to you how you should or shouldn’t think about yourself, instead of understanding that it is just lies to control you  in order to inflate their own egotistical needs!

So stop it, stop it now – stop feeding their egos – stop making them feel good, when you feel so awful!

Consider this…

What wonderful changes have you done to the world simply because you exist right now?

STOP THINKING TOO BIG ABOUT THIS ANSWER!

The little things count too!

I remember things I have done in my life that have helped others, without me, they would never have got through certain things – everyone on this planet has done this!  Only you were so busy abusing yourself that you didn’t realise and remember you did it.

I will give a few examples from my own life, which make me feel better about existing…

When I was 6yrs old a new girl came to join my class late in the year, she had muscular dystrophy and couldn’t make friends because other children saw her as very different, she was also mixed race and at the time this was still considered rather strange in the community I was raised in.  I was very popular in this school and I had a lot of friends, I didn’t like how people treated her and I told them all how I felt about what they are doing to her.

I told them I was very sad that people find enjoyment in hurting another person, especially a person who is so sick and very scared because she is new, that because they are mean to her I will sit with her and I will play only with her until they feel that they can be kind to her.

This changed and the girl became very popular too by the end of the week.  This young girl has always remembered me and she found me some years later to let me know that she is working towards a career in fashion now and she insists that this one day, changed her own opinion about herself and that it was because of me!  I never thought anything about it, because I left the school a few weeks later and literally thought everyone there would have forgotten me – but she didn’t!  She recognised me when we were in college, I didn’t recognise her, yet she still had her walking frame and though she did kind of stand out, I didn’t specifically associate this girl as her!

I have helped several complete strangers, one of which was an old lady in her eighties, she had her shopping bag on wheels caught in a drain and I was walking past and pulled it out without thinking.  She stopped me for a moment to thank me, and I said think nothing of it and walked off.  The old lady tried to call me back but I was late for work at the time and told her so – she eventually found me, it was easy because I was in uniform and she came to my workplace to seek me out and told my manager how nice I was to her and that she wanted to do something for me.  But I wouldn’t let her, she was so surprised at my kindness and said it was so rare these days that she tried to work something out with my boss.  But I wouldn’t let her reward me, she always remembered me as after this day, whenever we passed each other she’d say something friendly.

This same job place, there was a woman who was having a heart attack in store, she was frightened and the company said that in first aid situations like this, if you are late for your duties forego your humanity and get to your post – but I couldn’t leave this woman who was scared for her life.  I was reprimanded by the manager for being fifteen minutes late for the checkout services, but I wanted to go with the woman on the ambulance like she requested, but I was told I would lose my job.  She died, but later on in the week her daughter sought me out and told me what her mother said about what I tried to do for her and she gave me a gift.  Meanwhile, they spoke harshly to the manager about their mistreatment of me.

I also found a lost child, a young boy around ten years of age who couldn’t speak English, his mother couldn’t speak English either, when she found I was comforting her little boy and trying to find her, but her actions spoke louder than words.  Because she gripped my arm and bowed her head several times to my arm and I presume was thanking me wholeheartedly.  I think they were Chinese but I am unsure.  But that little boy could have come to great harm where he was, because he was so frightened he was curled up in a ball crying when I found him in a place where a car could have parked and hit him as in that area, cars often parked up onto the pavements without thinking.

I have also rescued a handful of people from suicide, spoke them through their hard time online (people I never met, but had online friendships with). 

A few people have also turned away from a life of crime because of comforting words I supposedly had said to them which changed their ways and even gave a child a father.  What I mean is, I had a friend who fathered a child and his instant response was to run away and pretend she didn’t exist because he wasn’t ready to be a father.  I told him to speak this through with his girlfriend and work something out together about it, because running away will only cause both his girlfriend and daughter to hate him potentially.  He told me he was brutally honest to her about how he can’t commit to the child but he will do whatever he can to help her as long as he doesn’t have to live with them.  This worked out fine for them and in as little as eight months down the line he felt he had value as a father and eventually moved in and married her and now he is a happy present father.

A lot of people mess up their lives because they are afraid of being honest, because they think that their honesty is going to make things worse… how ironic, it is usually always the opposite!

Whenever someone has difficulties in their lives and they need a loved one to fully understand, they normally choose not to communicate it and things blow out of proportion.  I often suggest, well just tell them, but the answer is always – “I can’t, because (insert irrational fear here).  Those who have felt confident to do so, come back to me a few days later, thanking me, because, literally – their fear was worse than the reality of it!

My attitude is this… if a person hates you for your honesty and mistreats you for your honesty, then they don’t love you enough to be worthy of sharing your life!

Believe me when I say, there are more than enough people in the world who will share your beliefs, your traditions, your ways and ideas, you have just got to make the effort in looking for them and the only way you can do this, is by living your life as honestly and as openly as you can!

That is the key to good relationships – open honesty.

Thanks for reading!

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September 25, 2018 · 11:35

I’m not your nurse and carer

You couldn’t keep me locked up forever and a day

Until you are old and frail, until you were old and grey

Then send me out into the world as your own born and raised saviour

And expect me not to love life and savour the sweet taste of life

You couldn’t expect to do that without trouble and strife

You couldn’t keep me shut away in the house each and everyday

Then tell me that there’s no time to play, that life will just get in the way of caring for the old you

You couldn’t do that, so that’s why I left you

I am not your personal handmaiden, born for your every whim

I am not your nurse and carer; I am not your cloned twin

I am my own person, though I’m your family and your kin

If you didn’t treat me that way, you might have kept me and wouldn’t have lived in yin

You are clouded in darkness because of your troublesome ways

It didn’t need to be so, if you let people grow and go their own ways

You did this to yourself, though it hurts me always

But now my life begins…

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February 21, 2016 · 20:23

Lies, truth and love

Locked in cold stone walls
Shut away and forgotten
Forbidden to live a life
By those who are mean and rotten
Lied about by your torturer
Hissed at by their friends
A mystery to others
Yet no one helps you mend
People accuse you of being the trouble
People accuse you of being bad
Yet nobody knows that the woman they love
Is evil and nasty and mad
Some have seen the truth, a glimpse
But unsure, they look on
And eventually I run away again
And hope that I can belong
But away I went and then there was more
Trouble and lies and hate
But the people who witness the things going on
Think it is I who has caused this fate
They won’t be told that someone they like
Have two sides to their personality
Instead they decide to add to my torment
Thinking they are defending their mother, naturally
But they don’t remember I am not the only one
She has kept in the dark and cold
I am one of three and she hates two
But the oldest one, he never knew
He won’t accept the truth
My father is lovely and it pains me to say
I might never get to see him again
Because she rules him, and he won’t come
To visit me and his grandson
Because she lies to all around, that she gives him a choice to come around
But she doesn’t you see, the truth is this
She would rant and she would spit
If he came knocking at my door
So until she dies, I’ll see him no more

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