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I wish this was fiction -Pro choicer

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Exactly! not so much religion but more your beliefs about pro-life.FYI
All of us in this debate are pro-life. You don’t have to be religious to respect and be Pro-life.

I have a lot of anger towards the hypocritical B/S sludge techniques that some Pro-lifers use to prevent Abortions from going ahead legally ( safely and hygienically).

They use religion & guilt & even shame and protesting to bully women into carrying the fetus to full term.

This is ignorant & these are debauched tactics using  -mind games /Emotional blackmail.

Why?

One simplistic example?

A pregnant woman may find she bonds with this unborn life and is conflicted about her reasons to abort & then it gets to the 24 weeks cut off date that the law states is ethical. If a mother or another person causes the death of her unborn child it is classed as murder in the U.K.

Women around the world who can’t have a legal abortion are often forced to have back street abortions.

Here is a loose retelling of a friends experience having a back street abortion.

Her partner was highly abusive. He beat her with abuse, words to have an Abortion at 25 years old. She was not given an anaesthetic & the person she paid did the abortion with a coat hanger.

It’s B/S that MOST women who have/had an abortion use or do it as a contraceptive prevention tool.

My body is mine as is all other women’s bodies are theirs. Men have ownership of their bodies. The body can be used as a vessel for life to grow in it.

It’s an incubator.

If I don’t want (for whatever reasons) a host to feed off my body zapping me of minerals, iron etc & (sounds crude) that is my choice. My body.

9 months is the average period to carry a life/ unborn life/developing life/ host to full gestation That’s 9 months of my time not anybody else.

Pro-choice is pro-life.

Pro-choice looks at multiple & complex factors in deciding to terminate the growth of a fetus -full-term baby. I don’t want a baby is a good enough reason.

Pro-lifers I ask: why don’t you adopt the orphans – all of them. Take financial responsibility, take emotional responsibility.

A possible Pro-life answer :

It’s the mother who has that responsibility. God will provide. God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. You will end up in hell if you do.

I  had an abortion at 24 weeks – I am a living person.  He would have been called Nicholas. Medical professionals advised me of the risks involved. Largactil – a medication that I was taking at that time would result in the unborn child being severely physically & mentally disabled. Risk chance probability – Over 70%

I couldn’t justify having a child who I knew could possibly live a quality of life that would merely be existing not living.

I’ve lived that kind of life.

 

Could I manage? Mentally, physically, financially, emotionally.

Eventually, I agreed with the doctors and had the Abortion in a private clinic in London.

Of course, I grieved. It was one of the shittiest moments of my life. I couldn’t take back life. I made a choice & I had to move on and make the best of my life.

I digress,

I abused alcohol, I was with a very violent & manipulative man. I should have been more responsible & used a condom. I was naive as after my abortion

How many of you who have sex use a condom all the time? A round of applause for all those who are 100% safe all the time. ( I am on a non-hormonal coil to that does the least amount of harm to the reproductory system  I bled for  10 days & tried to find comfort in my now ex, I got drunk, cried about what I had done and we had sex. That’s how it went.

I was naive when I found out I was pregnant the first time because I had thought I couldn’t fall pregnant.

I had amenorrhea ( no menstrual periods)for over 15 years of my life due to 1 diagnosis of Chronic ( something that doesn’t go away) Anorexic I wasn’t ready to put on weight when I found out. My ex was ecstatic.

His words: I’ve known for weeks. Your breasts have swelled up.

At this point, I  spent most of my time at his house. I stopped seeing my family and friends.  (paid 3 months advance on my own rent in my own home).

I was grieving & started drinking to c ope.I  was finishing my undergraduates’ degree & had a tutor who was bang out of order & a bitch towards me. I had a performance to do for one of my modules & I refused to fail. I have seen pictures of what I looked like at the time. I wanted to get a good mark. I wanted to be with my colleagues and enjoy the experience.

I had been confined to my bedroom. Against my will, He handcuffed to my bed drifting in various states semi-consciousness, unconsciousness after taking a  substantial medication & alcohol overdose. This person decided to play “God” with my life for 5 days. He didn’t call an ambulance because he was trained in 1st aid (that is what he put in his statement). It doesn’t make him a Doctor.

(2 weeks after my abortion)

I returned to college with a black eye to the final piece for summer 2010. Everyone on my course was stressed in rehearsals & had their own lives to deal with. I had cut them off & turned their back on me. I covered up my black eye with a mask when I took part in our live art installation.

I remember a tutor  ( same age as me) looked at me and she said ‘Man up’ to me. Why? BITCH.

She had paperwork and deadlines to do. …Idk maybe that is why.

Morally bankrupt and highly ignorant.

She used to patronize me & belittle me.

Now she is a mother herself so she is a Mother bitch.

I’m sure she is a great mother. I don’t care.

I was dealing with my own mental health issues, I was trying to get away from a HIGH-RISK violent relationship. I fell pregnant a week later with Isabella. I had stopped the medication that was toxic to a growing baby. That is the truth.

I didn’t leave his house, I struggled to get to college or out of the house because as I had started nightly binge eating sessions, the depressive part of Bipolar the feelings & thoughts that go with overeating and self-loathing meant that I escaped by sleeping my life away. Severely Depressed. Then I would have panic attacks and look for a way to escape from myself. I took many overdoses, cut my wrists, drinking.

I started to have blackouts when we started arguing .Especially when it turned physical/sexually abusive. It was like a switch went off in my brain and I used to have serious blackouts that continued right into the early stages of my relationship with my now-husband.

Due to childhood abuse and other male and female abuse I learned to disassociate to cope with all the trauma because my mind can only process so much. It’s very common.

It’s something that started from a young age (self-preservation).

The blackouts happened when I had been drinking & mixing it with benzodiazepines (prescribed).

Some people have said that I was confrontational or violent even. How and it was my ALL my fault said certain men who were emotionally or physically /sexually abusive to me.IA pattern for the people I attracted to my Life emerged.

I think that many the people who put me down are full of self-hatred and complexes. It doesn’t justify them with an excuse.

It highlights how many people I’ve come across in my life  (my hand is up too) who have their own self-image, emotional issues. And when feeling vulnerable or see a trait that they don’t like about themselves in someone else sometimes deflect how they feel about themselves & put it on another person. Psychology 101.

When I was dating my now-husband, he would recount events when I blacked out. What I had done. We analysed it. We would discuss at length of what I had done, what I remembered.

 I was able to get a different perspective of where I saw myself to blame along with what was not mine to own. It helped me to put things in context. How much of what was said about me (to me) was distorted?

In my experiences, it’s harder to look at ourselves rationally when we are hurting. It is can seem easier to blame another person for a fall out/ violence/ abuse.

I slowly came to realise I wasn’t to blame for every situation that happened or when I was confrontational with my words or reacted to what people said. My biggest mistake was to let a person disrespect me and still expect them to respect me.

I became more aware of certain  triggers to my behaviour and attitude. Some of it was my shit to own & the rest was abusive.

Whether it was a valid trigger from another person’s actions/words. Or whether it was my subjective/automatic reaction to (perhaps) misinterpreting someone’s words, reactions or facial expressions.

I believed that I couldn’t use my memory as reliable evidence. I believed what he was telling me. I have done this with many people in my life due to self-doubt.

 I fought (along with my true fam beside me) social services /the ex and the court jesters for 16 months. We didn’t stop until our daughter was living not just in her home but with me being her sole carer -legally. I had the experience of addressing the judge myself. Social services, and lawyers, Appointed children Guardians were instructed to sit at the back of the courtroom.

My legal team thought/hoped  I was more than capable of requesting for the shared responsibility cared order to be revoked. It’s a big achievement considering they had her up for twin tracking ( from 12 weeks old)

Twin tracking is looking at other alternatives for my daughter’s life and adoption/twin Tracking whilst the case was still live was ratified when my daughter wasn’t even 3 months old.

I  didn’t feel I could express emotion in the meeting room. There were at least 10 people involved not including from my support system because it could be used against me in court to prove I was unable to care for my child. They wanted to throw a textbook at me & tick all the boxes.  The Social service system is flawed, underfinanced, open to corruption and abuse happens in the care/foster system too

I have parental responsibility for Isabella -legally. The ex didn’t want to see her. He had contact workers picking my daughter up /dropping her back off from his house. Not a lot of Dads get that choice. One day he sent her back refused to have her in his home.

It happens to mothers every day.

I stopped having blackouts. Life was more positive. I was hiting my goals. I was happy.  I became better.

Another  blackout happened in April 2017 when an ex-friend punched me. I wish I could This led to me being assaulted by a load of yobs who thought it was justified to beat up a woman who asked then insisted that they stop recording me being punched by ex-friend. I have a broken nose from that experience.

This ex-friend can’t understand why I won’t speak to him. I allowed him to disrespect me over and over again. He thinks it is a minor tiff. I have defended myself or tried to when ex-friend assaulted me (many times) I allowed the abuse to happen cos I would accept his apologies Its in the past.

I’m lucky and deserve to be with a true Alpha- my husband. He has never put me down nor has he belittled me. Intentionally? Never. He hasn’t ever raised a hand to me though has been close to it. I am not easy going especially when I’m ill and (I don’t agree with violence) I am saying that if there is one person out of all the others who’VE  disrespected me( & tried to take away my inner fire ) Gaz would be the only person I can truly state might have been “justified” being violent to me.

He isn’t and he wasn’t.

I will gladly have another child or children when we decide and if nature gives the green light.

PRO-CHOICE is PRO-LIFE. Look at how we treat children. This image prompted a lot of words. Haha!

What a character!

Ladies and Men, Do you want to really waste most (cross out) all of your life chasing an idea of what you think is the perfect weight and way to look?

Do you know that some dreams can turn into nightmares?

Some dreams are best left in the subconscious-don’t fuck with your health. Mental & physical -(be) ‘cos honestly, those increasing digits (age, scales, money, lack of money; the  Obsessive compulsion to want “control” over your world  (think Pinky & the Brain) is impossible.

There is something better than perfection… The miracle /creation of life.

 WOW! Fuck Area 51-Alien life. Appreciate human life. The earthlings who still exist on earth, and who keep the ecosystem in balance while we look at what to eat, wear, fuck, do, spend on, take the piss or use other people (dead or alive) to further their career, aspirations & agenda.

 We are a selfish murder of crows.

When you have body dysmorphia, eating disorders & hang-ups remember to hit those thoughts. (No, whack them straight in the middle of the sentence get in a clause, pause and push those thoughts out)cos they will be your demise if you ruminate on thoughts until you forget that you are putting yourself down.

I was given life. I don’t want to have regrets. These days… I still get panic attacks after eating or shopping for food & then I self medicate to forget ( figure that out in an equation or sum ) If you look with your heart & not your Ego-there is beauty everywhere. There are ( and were ) so many species living in different continents ( homo sapiens too).

I have one wish:  A Brain break (without losing my personality-flaws and all) & not being aware of my body so much cos honestly the guys I picked up ( lol) when I was dating seemed to be interested in outer me ( some were interested in both). There are good men & women who see the beauty in an abstract ( fucking normal way).

If we could just stand up or sit down, and just say F**k your profile, selfies.IDK girls seem more fixated on this idea of being “fit”… How about your sense of humour, your beliefs? GIVE ME IMPERFECTIONS, please…

How about a big F U 2 Standard beauty? Facebook, how about Personality book? Character book?
How about accepting one breast is one cup larger than the other & letting someone who loves you .. love you…Scary AF.

We can be visual whores! Me too btw

My new mantras are more engaging and thought-provoking than standard affirmations.

I’ve realised if I want to be happy (fuck 70% of my thoughts. Fuck money, fuck likes, fuck…… just know me cos we all flawed or

 Who are you?
Not important to my world.

 Alan Watts asks: What do you desire?

My mantras or “mini prayers” is:

Is this the reality I wish to create? -a lot better than ‘I am successful at whatever I do’ ( I know what I can do to myself and the knock-on effect extends to helping or hurting those I love).

So, What do I desire?

PEACE OF MIND –

Thoughts to stop spinning, a body of water ( not a bath) & laughter & security.

MEH …… these are my words….. If you judge me I get louder and then I ignore ( I may have a fleeting thought about you or something that makes me feel shit), then I remember those who know me when I’m A loudmouth or quiet.

I don’t want much except a break from my mind without poisoning it.

The “beauty”  of Facebook is we are so worried about our face or feed that no one will read this & if they do wise asses who say “I Don’t get it”. When I feel like articulating myself and making an effort you won’t reply ( not me being arrogant) just experience with Smart asses, cons, piss takers and general Giff gaff.

 I HAVE A GOOD HEART and a devil on my shoulder. ………End (of) T.hinking C.apacity.

 What is beauty?

A rose wouldn’t be so enticing to touch or pick if it didn’t have thorns. Some of us can be the thorn between two roses ( thanks to the person who came up with that)

Brrrisk it –

This is audio recorded experimental monologue in two parts that depict the impact Brexit /welfare reform has on one woman with severe mental health issues trying to keep things together and on hold to talk to someone about  (I don’t know) her benefits being stopped. Or her having to go  & be questioned on intimate & embarrassing issues to prove she is ill in front of someone probably not qualified in complex mental health issues. It’s my story.  😀 I am making the assumption .lol. This was an experiment (essentially scene one)   as sometimes I can’t type or write so I record and act out an improvised piece. I have always been able to create characters in my mind and act them out. My daughter does the same thing. THERE IS AS GENE FOR MY PECULIARITIES? Gulp.

(the recording is not great quality-its the concept I am more interested in and how I  can use it to create a piece of work that means something to me and has some relevance to the community I live. Theatre and social issues equal a match made heaven.

IN yer face drama ( this isn’t) Brechtian? (elements later on if this ever is finished) Kitchen sink drama? It’s not glam, is it… I would love to an SFX of her peeing or on the toilet having a number  2 when someone becomes available down the job centre or something. It needs a ton of work.

To digress ( briefly)

Going into my own world was my first addiction. I would disappear and create dramas and stories to escape from my real life. I started doing it when I was 5 years old and stopped when I was 15.

For this character ( loosely based on me and other people I’ve seen go through a breakdown in mental /social health) I used repetition in the characters dialogue. Iand I think that the character doing everyday chores- cleaning, making her bed contrasts with the chaos that is unravelling from the hinges in her mind. There would need to be more backstory. It needs a lot of work but I think the government should hold their heads in shame. I will always fight for justice and whatever I write.

Different actress. It’s an interesting technique to use when you have writer’s block.  Like my “poetry” ( borderline) is organic and raw so is my approach to creating characters.

I didn’t study for a postgraduate degree for any other reason but to make sense of what was happening in my life. And writing became my life. I had forgotten how much I have written over the years.

So it’s rubbish  QUALITY WISE( not the idea) it needs loads of work. I love the Vivaldi in the background ( in a theatre it should drive people nuts) but its better suited for an audio play or radio script because of it feels oppressive, we don’t know what the character ( not me anymore) is going to do next. WI.

God job I write for myself and not to please other people.Though I enjoy being an instigator of some one’s happiness.

I could start my final year in October. I’m enjoying learning about writing about music and engaging with people in a different way. It’s not the world of academia. And I m loving my little fashion career. I get work with my mom. And I’m happy. I’m happy that I can still write. I know I was a better writer at one point. My grandad was a self-made millionaire-  twice and poverty stricken  twice

I don’t write pretty cos the world not preettty. It’s fascinating and terrifying and all-consuming, fleeting, dull,

I’m done writing…

I feel ok.

 

When words are few

When Words are few

Connect

Create.

Collaborate

With other Creativists.

creativists

Noun — (1) To be a creative activist. (2) To challenge conventionality using art and expressionismas your tools. (3) To creatively enactchange.

Someone who is attuned creatively to their surroundings; a person who understands and expresses their lifethrough creativeworksor motifs.

URBAN DICTIONARY

When I don’t feel able to talk to anyone my thoughts are scattered and strewn about;

I’ve always found clarity & relief with the help of writing and Music. Music allows me to put displaced emotions into a feeling of organized chaos.

It can help with replacing my emotions and self talk to break the negative cycle I’m in and I can re-engage with people (even if on a small level) and feel passionate about life and my goals again.

I believe that we are all creativists — We don’t need to sing well, play an instrument or be a DJ, professional dancer to express our emotions through music. Personally, I enjoy combining my passion for writing about and listening to music to get what I need from music.

We don’t need to have a degree in Music and Arts to feel or write about it. Although that’s cool too.

Google, a couple of books, communicating with people who are into music, and your soul-should be enough to make whatever it is that you get out/want out of the music industry- happen. Oh, and passion and focus helps too 😉

Self-expression is creative.

When we find a medium to feel, it can help us feel that we’ve been heard-we are being creative.

I’m more than passionate about Mental health and anti-stigma. I know the Music industry is in need of more help to help artists channel their energy productively, but like any industry as big as the entertainment industry there is a lot of pressure and stress attached to achieving our goals.

On the flip side of the coin, there are the obvious benefits being creative in any medium can have on improving mental health.

One massive stumbling block to (ahem..)blocking creativity is not connecting with people who allow us to create something with another person. It could start out as a simple conversation, comment, idea, compliment, dream, or career.

This decision to connect with a person/group creates.

We are all creativists. Technology and social media help to communicate. So that even a person who doesn’t or who can’t get out and “connect” socially can still be super dope in their creative outlets via the internet.

Self- Doubt and listening too much to other people’s negative opinion can wreak havoc on your confidence and ability to express yourself. This is intensified for people who are suffering from their mental health issues.

Of course, feedback is a good thing. Pick your mentors wisely, if (like me )you want to write about music or work in the Music industry.

Find someone who doesn’t rip you to shreds. Constructive criticism and being a blunt asshole can seem like the same thing coming from an “expert” but it’s not.

Constructive criticism is taking into account the overall work and presentation and breaking that feedback into sections. It should be honest and tactful. There is no one way to write a review, or compose a piece of music or run a music label.

When you connect you have an opportunity to create something with another individual who has a whole different system of thoughts, beliefs, ideas and experiences to contribute.

You don’t know what the result is going to be and that can be the best part of the creative process: The not knowing. We often surprise ourselves with what we can do when we just-DO IT!

The collaboration process doesn’t have to be a huge gig,

Or it can be.

It can be anything.

I’ve uploaded on social media have spoken word/music oddities that I’ve made on garage band!

My favourite recorded spoke word project is one I did with a mate. It was fun.

I’m not too precious about what people think. Creativists should take risks and often end up surprising themselves.

Don’t let other peoples talents or your own self-doubt, or a lack of knowledge of music theory, for example, stop you from expressing yourself. If you want to learn to play an instrument well. Then you have to put in the effort. Technology makes it so much easier to connect and learn.

I’ve also started writing song reviews on my blog. Not everyone gets it or likes it but its something I’m passionate about doing. Blogs should evolve if we are to change, surely? They need work and I need to Improve. We all have to start somewhere.

NWA all the way.

EXPRESS YOURSELF!

 

Dead Dad beats

Happy fathers day. Sorry, I don’t have any shame for wearing my on my sleeve)for the 2 or 3 years of you blocking me, Dad. (I guess it what some would call gumption).
Dissing me, ignoring me.

Yes, I called you a ‘spineless bastard’ cos sometimes you’re just too laid back & let two women rule you. I’m not what you think of me cos every year I’m. going to wish you Happy father’s day./Birthday etc..

You can justify why you don’t speak to me or say I’m a bad egg. I say: Life is short. I didn’t even get to speak with u about when Grandpa B passed away. I just wanted to give you support. As a daughter. Pay my respects but I did it in my own way. I was there for my Nan. I know its hard building on a natural bond( after deciding to forget about me & Lou & moving on to find some happiness in your life). That probably kept you sane
.
but I’ve chased you more than any man I’ve ever known. All I wanted was a tiny piece of you & insight into who you are.

Anyway, look after your health, be happy, I did ask for money to help with the rent & was down the rabbit hole in 2017. I just couldn’t believe you would think that me and Bee being homeless was an option cos that was where I was headed if I didn’t think creatively. If that is tough love-its brutal & well… I don’t know who you are. Sometimes I think you have died. I shake my thought away & hope I get to see you one last time before you go your way, & I go mine.
Forget the money. I was more interested in your poetry, your acting the character Othello & I wanted to see a bit more of the Dad I started to get to know in 2004.

Yeah, I got ill & I’m obviously not what you expect from a daughter. It’s cool. I’m 38 this year & I’m more curious than angry.

I expect this just reaffirms r that I’ve got more love, curiosity, and respect for you. Okay, a spineless amoeba bastard is a bit low, I was on my ass -my fault or not) Blood in, Blood out, yeah?
You probably won’t see or read this but for what it’s worth, you can’t stop me from doing what I am right and performing my (in so far as I CAN) duty towards you, as your, eldest daughter.

Nah, I don’t give a shit about money & inheritance.  Listen to Alan Watt’s ‘What do you desire?’

Trust me I’ve never fallen for a man for his kerching. Except one but I was not in love and well… I didn’t get to the 5*** hotel in Mexico cos I couldn’t bear sleeping in the same bed as someone I had no chemistry with. TMI?

I heard from a source that this is one of the songs that you used to play on the guitar. I read the love poems when you dated my Mom -way back. Romance isn’t dead it just grew up. Take it easy, Pops.

If this is hanging my “dirty ” laundry’ out then I will say that this a fresh lot of laundry, just out the machine. It smells of. Jasmine & posies. It’s clean.
And me? I’m only a rag n bone hope sapien like the rest of us. I do what I do to get by. Enjoy your day & if it isn’t Father’s day in South Africa (it is here in your Yorkshire).
I can still see the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh & I can hear your laugh in my inner ear (or mind).
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!
I wish I could give you a hug cos I know how close you were to your Dad. And the loss is hard. You have support ( and I will be thinking of you). I still remember how you broke down great Grandad fell ill when I was 12 or summit. I hugged you. And you let me hug you. It made me cry. These are my words.

 

WordPress member passed away -the truth

*This is a belated update on what I know about one of the possible reasons Paul Aleavy went on to take his life by suicide

This video can be read in conjunction with my original post  (below) after finding out that he had passed away. The truth is I dislike bullies in all their forms. This is a message I received in my inbox of comments to approve a few weeks before I found out that Paul had taken his life. I’ve decided to share it now because I know something that contributed to his diminished self esteem & possibly contributed to him taken his life by suicide.

Apologies for being a bearer of bad news (again), I received a message today from a relative about a WordPress member in our community.

I’m devastated as I am sure his family are.

Paul Mc Aleavy aka Paul fitness passed away yesterday.

Paul went through a lot of crap and he found a sense of acceptance in the blogging community.

He was always generous with his time reading and sharing blogs.

Paul, you will be missed.

Please pay your respects to his family.

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PAUL AND DAPHNE

PAL FITNESS

“Fitness” is the root to success in any career!!

Paul came up with this award. Remember life is short and be awesome! 

chalkboard-black

 

Mad Russian afterlife​

 Good Morning old man, and greetings on this day when at last you dare to look at the mirror of your past, with the eyes of the real world.

What have you achieved old man in the course of tumultuous existence, and who are you? The real you and not the extrapolation of your wanted desires and unfulfilled dreams?

Open your mind, old man, and taste the result of your self inflicted iniquities.

Your soul may cry without shame because you may believe that you have remained as proud as your own bloodline.

However, could your genetic heritage be only a figment of your imagination of your own chromosomes?

You see old man: You still do not know who you are yet.

It is a fact that you have been a factor in creating life…

What was a pleasure became a string of destinies…. children… grandchildren…

And the usual follow up of renewed dynasties.

You believe of course that you will be able to watch, through another dimension, the survival tribulations of all your descendants and attempt to guide their steps towards wisdom and love.

Your inquisitive and caring nature will probably resist the call of the master of the universe to join his own renewal through the absorption of your soul. Once it has left your flesh, blood and bones.

I know, old man, as I searched deep inside your mind, that you are not afraid of death. The only fear you may have could be an inner sentiment that you have not yet fulfilled some of your more attainable, and realistic goals.

Wasted or unexploded gifts, which we all possess and often ignore…

These could be the regrets of an afterlife, and it could also be through the line of some genetic heritage that one of your ancestors is attempting to reach you, and guide you.

Look again old man and listen to the real voices.

* written by my grandfather Nicholas Szynkarski- an eccentric, legend, philosopher, opportunist, a man ahead of his time. This is the introduction to one of his many mini-memoirs & fantasies mixed with nostalgia. He used to type it up on a dinosaur computer. In the days when we had to dial up to get a connection to access the internet.  I’ve kept hold of one of his books. This is the intro.

Catch 22 #InternationalWomensDay

Fall – leaves turn shades of browns and greens.

my heart dips and I don’t feel that same sense of summer’s beams.

Alone. I look to my left. Creativity shines- glitter, stilettos- latex, white faux fur coats. All legs.

Like a string of pearls flung across a room,  a musky scent wafts across my midst.

Temptations persist. Glamour. Warmth is all I seek. Summer, why do you have to be so cruel?

I know if I cross over to the other side – I’ll be feeling the warmth – it will be pimped out inbox ring styles – I won’t have time to dodge the fists.

My body will burn up an exotic shade of hues. I will have no rest.

Hell is the other side of Summers gluttonous jazz bassline.

One hit. One vein. Blood – artificial nirvana could infiltrate my being.

I won’t have to think of the biting cold that is ringing in my ears. Muffled will be the ice cone, frozen on the edge of my nose. It doesn’t matter who sees that I have been seen.

Bus shelters full, spikes erect from the corporate underground – I can’t sit down. I know it takes fewer muscles to smile than frown.

Energy is all I have to see me through this cycle of undomesticated abuse. October may be  Domestic abuse awareness month.

If I hadn’t left my keeper, I would still have a roof over my head.

A blanket.

I would still be touched.

 Roughed up.

Better the devil you know – I know every one of his moves. I know when to dissociate –

detach my mind

from my body.

Floating above the marital, martial art stylised bed – I see myself and that devil I married, grabbing folds of my skin. He doesn’t notice the smell of the new conditioner I bought at Asda or how soft the sheets feel now they have been newly spun.

Dryer. I’m dry. He doesn’t notice the lack of moisture. He doesn’t notice that all of that fluid has shot up to my eyeballs. I refuse to let them free flow – I am not her. I’m floating.

Fly on the wall. Caught up in a spiders web. I have to watch. It doesn’t matter if I have a crick in my neck – oh hang on a minute is he choking me?

Leftover food languishing in the sink drain. He switched the waste disposal on to automatic.

Arrested, I am back in bed, under him. Time to vogue with my lips and give him a little pucker.

These white sheets have turned red in his need to let off steam. I come out in blisters hovering underneath his vapour.

Turn my neck – feels like I need a box of throat lozenges for having to get all deep throat.

5 am flashing in stimulant green.

I’m 5 months pregnant. I am going to be late.

Grab the nearest decent clothes. Pull-on my Adidas trainers. Scrape my hair up into a ponytail.

Finally the motivation to go on the run. I don’t have to time myself. I know his schedule well.

An Olympic torch passes into my hand. I’m running for freedom. Liberty is my destination.

I can start over.

Spring – blues, violets, colours in a perfect union – uncompressed. Naturally dressed.

For the first time in months, I feel like I belong. I too am a medley of colours. I blend in.

Natures milkshake collects in my breasts –  4 months to go until I give birth to a miracle of pure life.

Not branded a colour – just innocence – a chance to see a light – work on my soul and tackle it all. This is the only cure.

Vanilla.

I am no Killer.

Life goes in cycles. It passes by fast. There are no traffic jams when you have to pick up your feet and walk.

Eyes cast down, belly protruding.

Christian volunteers crouch down next to me- hand me a card.

Die and be reborn.

They can help me. I just have to give my old life to our saviour. I’ve never met him but he sounds

Forgiving, comforting, caressing- a handwash with extra Aloe vera – calming properties.

All I have to do is offer my unborn child to him and I can enter paradise with the rest of my weary comrades.

Eyes raise up to the bitter sky. I’ve always thought whatever is up there twinkling and winking down at me is having a far better time than me.

My unborn deserves a place in heaven. Earth only promises scars and wild jungle roots to keep it grounded to the spot.

The ultimate sacrifice.

Did I fold in with this cult out of cowardice?

I will drink my poison.

Maybe this winter I will be reunited with the one that let out a sudden cry.

Lead me not into temptation. I lie down, no need to be afraid, child. I close my eyes and sigh.

Hope is my last premise.

* Inspired by domestic violence awareness month*

 

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OCTOBER 2016 (IMAGE SOURCED FROM GOOGLE)

 

HERE IS A LINK TO A  POST I WROTE,ON 11TH MAY 2016 , ABOUT MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES IN A D.V. RELATIONSHIP , TO RAISE DOMESTIC ABUSE AWARENESS IN MY COMMUNITY AND   SOCIETY.

CLICK ON THE PINK HIGHLIGHTED LINK BELOW

THE FREEDOM PROGRAMME

*photo credit Rhode Island Francesca Woodman, Benjamin Moore *

 

 

Celebrating being a woman

 

I did a lot of things I never thought I would have the guts to do

“Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t—you’re right.” -HENRY FORD 

When I was fighting my ex and social services for custody of my daughter, I did something that I didn’t think I would ever have the courage to do. I thought everyone thought I was this

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I was finding myself again. It is a never ending process.  I was many miles -eons even away from the person I am today.

This person who I am today is someone I could not have foreseen.

I found out a girl from college was doing a ‘equality and diversity ‘ campaign for her final project  before she graduated and all I needed to do to get involved, if I wanted to was get naked.

Yup! that’s it.

 

A bunch off ladies I had never met bar one (College girl) was my company for the day and we were all walking around butt naked -having our pictures taken.

I was compelled to do this project because I was trying to find freedom – a freedom I had never expressed or experienced before, under the blaring  light of my unwanted entourage- social  services and who ever came with them skirting around their coat tails..

  • I couldn’t fall into abusive relationships any longer

  • I couldn’t close my mind to the world by self medication.

  • I couldn’t lose my mind and end up in hospital 

I ended up rebelling or what I now see as expressing my uniqueness in more gratifying ways.

I was going through a mad time of changing my hair colour nearly every 2/3 week. The day before the shoot. My hair had turned from purple to  murky green.

The hairdresser wanted me to pay for this mistake but I stood my ground and this was also new to me. I was good at telling myself what to do but I was never assertive enough to tell others what I would and would not accept.

I have found out that we have a name for this  in our everyday communication and it is called ‘Boundaries’.

Hairdresser sorted my hair out for free and off I went to do the photo shoot. My partner literally held my hand leading me like a child to the school gates.

Gently telling me I could do this.

I walked into the room ,laughter, nibbles and cava flowing to yield the nerves  It felt like they all turned to me and gave me the look. That girl look we do with one another.

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You know the one.

They probably didn’t.

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I got naked and just put my ‘I am super confident hat’ on and I winged my way through the day.

I tried to be a normal woman. Not a mother who had social services on their back and an ex with a taste for revenge. I know some people had heard gossip but I just carried on .

Forced myself to speak and do chit chat- which I loathe.

I came into my own and loved posing and feeling empowered. I got to laugh and be among women who had their own issues and problems. I didn’t feel so ostracised from my community for those few hours.

So, there is a lot to be said about diversity and equality -all can be found here

please if you can take a moment to watch

 I was fidThis kind of rebelling or should I say going against the crowd was new to me. I was used to rebelling in  a way that always ended up hurting me and not empowering me

There is a lot to be said about how powerful empowering yourself is. Sometimes we don’t know that what we are doing is  empowering myself.

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Since I’ve done a lot of inner self help work on myself. These are a  just a few of the ways I have empowered myself

  • I carried on studying for my BA  on line. I would study at court waiting to go into the judges chambers. Day in and day out.

  • I went on a empowering program for woman who have been abused by men called THE FREEDOM PROGRAMME

  • I refused too be bullied by anyone in the social services click. I spoke up a lot for myself and my daughter

  • I held my head up high when I walked around the town I live in. I refused to be bought down by peoples “tsk tsk- did you know that girl had her……..” 

  • I started volunteering not thinking it would have the effect it has had on me 

  • I did loads of courses and training workshops to skill myself up

  • I became a true feminist and an equal to my husband to be

  • Accepted people and relationships for what they are

  • I started blogging

These are just a few ways I have empowered myself and in turn enriched my life. The person I see or who you may see  today did not just happen. It took a life time of mishaps, experiences, mistakes, learning ,behaviours and generally trying my hand at living to achieve me.

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I see something in me that can only been seen outside of me because the glow is not a few embers chilling out on a bit of coal. I have an inner fire I try and keep lit all the time. I am the vigil of this candle .

It is my responsibility to keep the fire blazing. I had taken myself to the ‘hoki poki’ clinic and turned it all around for myself. 😀

 

Expect more wedding themed updates in the next up coming week. 21st June is fast approaching. I have a post about wedding vows which made my heart melt but I will write about that another day.

There are so many ways we can empower ourselves. I have found that if something is scary and it is partly terrifying, it involves me coming out of myself and connecting with others. This is usually  a good gauge  to check out if  I am doing something to empower myself.   I hope all these ladies still feel proud about what we did  three years ago in May 2013

 

( photo credits Julie Teague @ https://www.facebook.com/Julieatjtphotography/

Attempts on her Life

Be a bare foot bear in mind, body and spirit.

Daisy

LIFE UPDATE

There has been so much going on-trying to write consistently  and coherently has and is still a struggle.

I did a major overdose in March 2018 (yes, stupid and I didn’t want to come out of it)-the gory details are :

I could have died and came close to it.

I went through the whole anger and retaliation at the world stampede.

I’m still struggling to cope with EVERYTHING

Yet I’m still here coping with EVERY THING.

I feel like a machine at times — loathe the mundane, monotony  of everyday living.

The enormous amount of stress that we all experience.

I hate this feeling but at the same time I feel the need for routine.

It’s easy to fall into bad  habits. I seem to get into toxic cycles a  lot. I get out of them too.

Oh my hat! After complaining (to whoever would listen)about never getting out open mic gigs; I finally got to  do another open mic night-I got my wish.

It can be an intimidating scene. Pretentious even. I hate the drama and Ego ism that comes with any thing to do with being creative. Best piece of advice I can offer is:

Don’t be like me and think double whiskies are going to make you awesome.

We already are… unless you have complex issues about yourself. Your life, your goals  , etc..

Like me!

So, I did the  open mic 4 minute slot.  😀 I don’t have a problem performing. Of course ,I worry about how I come across, want people to connect and genuinely clap or show interest cos something sets off a spark.

I got caught up in my head. Yesterday, I was on the phone to my mom about it, and I tried to explain the complete sense of emptiness and loss I feel about my eating disorder.

Nobody seems to really get it. And its unfair to expect them to.

It won’t give up on me but I have people who think I’m cool for being me. That is important.

It’s messed up how we can sometimes let our demons wreak havoc and have a full on hour fest with our emotions.

Disconnecting is  defunct for me.

Its standard to my character and way of dealing with life

Connecting is harder and typing about this may seem fucking boring but it seems necessary.

It’s not meant to be a profound post. WOW!  I know how to beat myself up. Don’t you feel we do that far too much? We are. Hard mofo’s on ourselves.

DO you ever feel like guilt will cause you eternal harrowing sorrow?

It will haunt your every moment. Sneak up on every smile.

I want to be loved and want to figure out what I want.

So this is what I have become Doubtful yet I am still full of gumption.

God, I can be so self absorbed.

Suicide is a huge global problem and it’s getting worse.

Check out lil Donald’s positive message about the  suicide endemic .

Get help and speak out.

I’m glad I’m alive. Christ, it’s a hard struggle. An onward battle. There are precious ,sweet moments that make it worth it.

I’m so glad be alive. Yes, I’m repeating that.

The anger has passed as do all things.

Suicide is not the answer. Its final — we don’t know what is on the other side.

What if on the other side we are trapped on one side of a mirror-only able to feel the cold and watch the world without being able to make contact again….

We all need time away from the mundane, from ourselves.

We all have vices ands poisons. Its easy to judge a person by what they use to cope. We walk with the feet that we are born with.

Sometimes we don’t have shoes to wear. It’s often the time we feel most free.  That first contact with bare feet and grass or beach sand is the most grounding and exhilarating feeling a person can experience.

Be a bare foot bear in mind, body and spirit.

Spoken. Word!

Write  to recover and then perform to recover. ;D

I’m moving forward again.

‘Fight the good fight’ as Charles Bukowski said.

Go big or go home.

The video isn’t great quality but I’m. sharing it more to reaffirm to myself that I have just as much to bring and give as the next person.

Something I jotted down last night. I’ver  lived in big cities and   many  small towns in different countries  (maybe some people can relate) and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m done trying to show others (especially people who live in small towns)  I too have my own ideas and share similar interests etc…

It doesn’t mean I’m better or anyone else is better than me  It means I am  who I am and the world is bigger than where I currently live.

I’ve been looking for a genre for the kind of poetry I do. I couldn’t find anything that I fit into. So I introduce ‘in yer face ‘poetry.   Inspired by ‘in yer face’ theatre.  That’s me and that is how I write and I’ve found a niche and I finally feel okay. with not being everyone’s favourite read  or person.  ha ha!

IN YER FACE POETRY –  first coined by me, Daisy Willows  aka Natasha Bodley – taking 100% full credit for it.  ha ha!

 

My definition of in yer face poetry 

‘ poetry that is blatant, honest, provocative ,emotional and not pretty or fancy or written to hide reality.

DAISY WILLOWS

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‘ Don’t be disappointed if you get rejected especially if you have made an effort to fit in. Farms are driven by human chains to contain. It’s highly unlikely that an animal bred to serve will accept you , especially if you are an animal who was born in the jungle or the savannah. Adapt , be resourceful and keep your spirit wild and free.

March to the beat that allows you to walk side by side with others, to lead others, be led  or walk alone. Acceptance is but one way you feel secure and shouldn’t be a reason to stay in one place.

Remember those who wander and drift out of their comfort zone will always find kindred souls who get the idea that acceptance can be found in those who know security comes from within. Choose to roam and meet other spirits who remind you why you live life

. Don’t stick around waiting for people to get you or accept you. Keep moving and you will never be far from those who accept your different attitude, culture and traditions.

Embrace the misfits . They are the most intriguing and loyal spirits who will make an effort to teach you their ways and be as eager to understand your ways.’

 

 Daisy willows

The one word summary  to the above is this.

ROSA park

  Thanks to those who have been so supportive.

I’m still a newbie at doing open mic but what a great crowd and I’m so honoured to have had a chance to share a space with so many incredibly talented singers, comedians, poets/artists  who welcomed  this blooming weed into their little home and embraced me like a friend who had been away travelling.

Apologies for the poor quality video. Will try and upload a better one but tbh all you see is the back of me ha ha!  Not very exciting.