Category Archives: WRITE TO RECOVER

It’s only fear, flower

Someone once told me, there is nothing to fear except fear itself. Well, obviously… I thought to myself.

Then I grew up & came up against many obstacles and challenges- Fear itself. I became afraid of it.

It led me to self-doubt, self-destructive behaviour, self-denial &

ignorance.

 It led to this moment -many moments like this something left behind in the past.

The future has always something to fear.

F.eel

E. motions

E. very day to

R.eveal the undiscovered.

(and eventually, recover).

I just wrote that -easy peasy -now time to feel the fear or become a part of this monstrosity.

Fear is about discovery – take the good and the bad.

So, I think to myself,ride the wave till I see the right side of fear.

An unruly pet -temporarily subdued, happy to indulge me.

Until time nudges me to wake up, clean, feed, love & encourage it to grow to

Challenge it so it can challenge me.

A Symbiotic relationship.

On the other side is where I find what/who is worth it.

Another monster unleashed?

Or a character carved with an adornment perhaps another chip symbolising its resilience? its temerity?

Something I’m proud of ? or something I  just accept is a part of me?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr Tut Tut

I thought I’d succeed this time .

I’d die reciting poetry under my favourite duvet ..

Perhaps listening to music.

Nearly ended up sectioned .

Making the most of a new day.

No serious damage except to my ego.

I’ve never felt so ashamed at failing to take my own life as this attempt.

Why ? Cos I’m still fucking here.

Apologising to people for not wanting to be here.

Time to keep going.

Moving to a new home is a priority..

This house is a poltergeist.

It feeds my need to keep bleeding.

Tired now.

I love my husband

My mommy & daughter.

3 good reasons to state that I’m

Still breathing.

Hope & Faith

All we need to survive is the hope that we will get better. An insight into my mind when I feel like escaping from reality forever.

If you wanna switch off you could

I threw it away

Not realising I would come to call it my most favoured crown.

Fascinated seeing my self riding waves of the guilt

drowned in salt tears of rumination to the hilt.

letting mom down

all my fam too.

Those who truly love me.

There are but few.

Hot damn! That’s better than cool.

Gave self-destruction a permit to ride out a course of self-flagellation

decorated in sleuth

The truth hit me oops upside of my head

Discombobulated -I saw the truth.

I let myself down

I deduce.

Take me back to my roots.

Be nt over crooked

wrung my hands for people who haven’t left my life

Yet

Anticipate gloom & doom.

allow these drum beats to perform

my body afloat

on cloud nine singing cheerfully to the staying alive tune…

Regrettably, I’m responsible for this present predicament.

There goes a fully armed disorderly platoon.

One setback

folded like that grieving widow.

She had a reason

I still have an abode

I’m not a widow.

I’m down on my knees & up off them almost like it didn’t happen

Stood defiant still feeding an outdated superstition

of other motives

This is my prison.

Trust in people

Risk my heart

Yes, It didn’t go my way

This was a time to not fall apart.

A glimmer of hope I’ll grow strong

again

Make mirth and merriment

not misery & disappointment.

I have only one person to blame.

I disappoint myself over and over again

then Surprise myself by what achievements I continue to create.

How am I to play this next move?

escape to another alternative reality – never to bloom!

Or talk about my feelings -is anyone listening?

Cos they have, what is the problem, strewth?

facing all that ‘I feel fat’ STUFF

Makes me wanna holler hey you, cat, scat!

Look me in the mirror & be proud

of my deeds for seven consecutive weeks.

Nor ask my loves to keep turning another cheek.

I’m ashamed.

I am to blame.

I have to fight

My mother is alright. I mean my mother is right.

This half-hearted escape acts

attempts on my life.

attempts to self-harm

They come & they go.

If I can keep this train of thought

the cravings of self-hate might go

come back

less frequently…

Perhaps I will still hold on to some of my dignity

or become a statistic…

We all end up a statistic one way or another

What statistic do I want to come under?

Now there’s a question to ponder over.

Dissecting Freedom

My reflections post the general election & me not being legally allowed to vote. on the grounds of being a French national. I’ve been on Facebook and Twitter this morning and came across this status update.

“How can a Utopian exist in a Dystopia ?”

( author of the source has rights to privacy without breaching any rights/ plagiarism)

My answer:

“It can only exist for the minority and the ones at the top. One great way the elite create an illusion of Utopia is by conditioning.”

I get mentioned in a comment with this reply- from the author of the status update

“Maybe I have conjured up a perfect paradise in my mind. A place where there are love peace and happiness. A place where everyone works towards the betterment of everyone else. A place where people go out of there way to help and support each other. An environment where laws are just and true.

A place where truth, honour and justice aspired by all.

A world where equality, brotherhood/sisterhood and fraternity is second nature.

A place where war and the wholesale slaughter and genocide is abhorrent and inconceivable to all the inhabitants of Utopia. T

he Utopian being born in this ideological setting then wakes up one day to find himself or herself trapped inside this present reality of modern-day existenc”

I think: what an idealist- how can I respond? My Brain is doing overtime.

I respond:

That place in your mind is a place in my mind of what I think would be the ‘perfect’ society. I don’t know why we need to suffer and why suffering continues to go on mercilessly.

I see so many FB posts of quotes about wanting to wake people up to what the governments of our world do, how we are slaves, To stand up and unite against all the injustice, the crime of pain. I have got bored with these posts for what is enlightenment without action?

I take small steps to not be so influenced by a world of decay and diseased minds and I am not talking about people with MH issues. We have been conditioned to be ignorant for so long that it has become an automatic default- we go to ignorance because it is exhausting to challenge our perceptions.

I still do it.

If this world we want existed how would we know we are happy? Do suffering and evil have to be a package deal to experience or wish for something better? I don’t know the answer”

What do I think when I re-read these comments? is, what do we as a society symbolise ‘Freedom’ with?

If you can picture the generous extension of France’s ‘Statue of Liberty’ gift to symbolise the centenary of the American war of independence and a symbol of the solidarity of French and the American friendship?

WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON BEHIND THIS SYMBOL OF FREEDOM?

The burning torch is the ultimate emblem of freedom. When I look at this statue and go back to all I have read about it’s the true meaning. I see darkness. I see lies. I see people thinking they are walking around with freedom, to be who they were born to be.

This symbol of fire goes back to Archaic times.

The myth of Prometheus – the Titan who made humans out of clay.

The Titan who went against the Gods and tricked them.

As punishment, the Gods took fire away from the humans and he stole it back and gave it back to the humans. . In occult terms, Prometheus would be associated with the name ‘Satan’ or ‘Lucifer’.

Prometheus-i-told-Zeus

He betrayed the Gods and tempted to elevate humans to God-like status (in the context) of knowledge and free will. I use the term Satan and Lucifer in a metaphorical/philosophical way. He is the symbol of betrayal.

Helena Blavatsky explains in her classic occult work, The Secret Doctrine Volume 2 (page 244) that, “The allegory of Prometheus, who steals the divine fire as to allow men to proceed consciously on the path of spiritual evolution, thus transforming the most perfect of animals on Earth into a potential god, and making him free to take the kingdom of heaven by violence.

Hence also, the curse pronounced by Zeus against Prometheus, and by Jehovah against his ‘rebellious son,’ Satan.”

https://stevenjohnhibbs.wordpress.com/…/the-hidden-meaning…/

I’m don’t want this post to get too complicated. Here is a summary of my opinion of the duplicitous meanings of symbols of Freedom.

Freemasons/Illuminati – members, know the power of using symbols in business and in governments, to manipulate events so that these events go in favour for the select few. Guess who?

Read these quotes by Adam Weishaupt founder of the Illuminati ( he later said that he didn’t mean what he said)

“There must not a single purpose ever come in sight that is ambiguous, and that may betray our aims against religion and the state. One must speak sometimes one way and sometimes another, but so as never to contradict ourselves, and so that, with respect to our true way of thinking, we may be impenetrable.”

“This can be done in no other way but by secret associations, which will by degrees, and in silence, possess themselves of the government of the States, and make use of those means for this purpose.”

“The Order will, for its own sake, and therefore certainly, place every man in that situation in which he can be most effective. The pupils are convinced that the Order will rule the world. Every member, therefore, becomes a ruler.”

(https://stevenjohnhibbs.wordpress.com/…/the-hidden-meaning-…)

Us “commoners” are told that knowledge is power – yet they hide a large portion of that knowledge from us.

We are told:

Freedom is being able to vote democratically.

Freedom is wealth.

Wealth = happiness.

They don’t reveal how they use these symbols to condition us to think we are happy and successful. We are mere slaves and help a very small elite portion of the world’s population live, in an almost utopian life, of their making, creating a dystopia for the rest of us.

Most of us don’t know we are anything but free.

Think back to the decade before the roaring ’20s.

Victorian times – solemn, sombre, emotions in check moderation, void of emotion.

Then, BOOM! The age of decadence arrives.

Diamonds become ‘A girl’s best friend’-worn by all the stars in Hollywood –

The film industry tells them to wear diamonds. Advertise them.

The message: If you love me -you will buy me a diamond because diamonds = wealth and success which makes me feel happy and loved.

When I am happy and loved I am truly free. There is nothing wrong with this statement

This was a well thought out and executed propaganda. The problem with the above statement is we still believe freedom comes from external things. Cast your mind to the slaves mining for diamonds under the watchful eye of the corrupt Congolese Dictatorship. Not so Utopian and free for all after all?

Another symbol comes to mind when I think of Freedom. The dove. Here is a bit of information for you – ever heard of the term Augury?

The definition of augury is the practice of clairvoyance by a prophet or oracle or is a sign or harbinger of things to happen in the future.

An example of augury is a priest explaining a divine act.

An example of an augury might be the flight patterns of birds.

Remember knowledge is power. What greater power is there than predicting the future? There is no mystical bullshit – governments and people who have their own interests at heart, use the symbol of a Dove to signal that the future holds peace and love.

It is an Aldous Huxley -brave new world, brainwashing, narcotic to numb us.

Subdue us.

All is well with the world.

It isn’t.

I could go on and on so I will summarise what I have learnt about these symbols of freedom.

In my opinion,

True freedom can only be found within oneself. So far the best answer to coming up with a solution to this problem is denouncing all modern society and live in Nature and become self-sufficient and independent. I don’t see many people willing to give up their mobile phones, flashy cars, collection of fine wines, burn up a bunch of millions of dollars to live a life of true freedom.

A snake has the power to kill yet it can be’ hypnotised’ by a snake charmer…

Does a snake have ears? can it even hear music?

A snake has eyes and responds to what it sees.

What do you see and feel when you see the word FREEDOM?

Mrs Thought bubble

This is a surreal piece  I wrote during a surreal time.

It’s about the cruelty of life and how the elderly are treated in Britain. It was inspired by the time I spent with my grandmother in her care home when she had Dementia and Alzheimers.

It’s a stream of consciousness  Short Borderline script.

 

 MRS BRUISED:  “I’m tired”

                                 “I’m tired”

 CARD SHUFFLER: (throws his voice from a table on the left)

                                      “I’m tired too.”

MRS BRUISED:          (sits upright)

                                         “I’m tired”

CARD SHUFFLER:     “Aye? Go to sleep then.”

 (The room fans out into a full house of insidious laughter)

MISS CARDIGAN:   excuse me, Dear, can you tell me where the toilets  

                                    I’ve only just  popped by/

THE WEED: ( Looks around for a sign indicating the Mangers office)

                                         Of course, just follow me.

(THE WEED walks back from the toilets  and goes to crouch down to hold MRS THOUGHT BUBBLES  hand).

THE WEED:             She’s pissed herself. Can someone change her?

THE ROSE:             No, she hasn’t.

GINGER:                (enters) Here you go. Open your mouth?

(GINGER shovels a hefty spoonful of what looks like boiled bagged food) 

THE WEED: (aside) Lost in thought……The smell of piss can’t be worse than death’s kiss…

GINGER:               Here- wah-la!  open your mouth.

  Mrs Thought Bubble’s inner thoughts

 

THE WEED:           Tu es Pleine?

(aside)                 Like an old coffin opening for the first time in a          century;

 MRS THOUGHT BUBBLE:   Pleine.

THE ROSE:               You   are thirsty today.

( Comes back from the kitchen with another full beaker of  red diluted kids juice)

                                     So so thirsty.

THE WEED: (aside) Three empty beakers all lined up in a row – My eyes rest and are ready to aim – trigger happy and ready to blow.

 

                               She has pissed herself, look!

THE ROSE:          Oh you have made a pee-pee Mamie- a pee-pee!

 REGRESSION SOUNDS

 

(chorus) A Nod. A skeleton- face grins

Bright light beams from  Mrs Thought Bubbles eyes.

An Image.

A carved pumpkin with a toothy grin.

Burning away in a dark room within.

More strained laughter churns out lactic acid.

MRS BRUISED : (on a loop)

                              Oh, I am tired. 

BRUNETTE:      Fiddler!  Stop putting your hands down your pants.

THE WEED:     Maybe that is the only way she gets to feel something.

(Legs splayed-  FIDDLER’S fingers explores her vagina hungrily)

MRS BRUISED:       I’m tired.

CARD SHUFFLER:  Yeah me too! Shut up.

(Eyes veer to the table on the left).

 

THE WEED:  Dying flowers  in a glass vase.

                   If I had to throw it would reality become what I once knew it to be?

Jeer me on why don’t you? 

Throw the fucking vase.

Throw it!

How long have those silver wrapped chocolates been  stood there. This is not some fancy New York hotel. 

If they are going to start leaving chocolates make sure you get Hershey’s kisses.

Brown as the shit under neath Mrs Thought bubble’s  nails.

 

THE WEED:  She has pissed herself!

GINGER:      I will go get dessert.

THE WEED: (aside) Does it come in different sex positions? 

                                     Sweet Silence.

                                  One of the toughest spells to break.

                                  No one dares look at the other.

                                Carers go  a drift.

                                Congregate to conflate into  gossip office politics.

THE ROSE:            Go and tell them to change her.

(THE WEED creeps along the  floor until it has found the right door).

THE WEED:               Can someone change Mrs Thought bubble!  She is in her own piss.

MRS HEGEMONY:  Wheres nondescript and the other one too?

Great big sighs. A room full of eyes wondering if the pay they get is worth the time.

The time finally has a stroke and then another and another.

The hoist in all its bluesy hues comes for Mrs Thought-bubble.

 

GINGER:               I’m sorry I got called into the office.

THE WEED:       Look it’s not you. Its just… I am sitting watching Mrs                                           Thought bubble over here, shout out….  and                                                            “she is wading in her own  piss!

THE ROSE:           Let’s go outside

THE ROSE: ( turns to BRUNETTE)

                             Can we take her outside?

BRUNETTE: ( a voice rolls out  like a plush  red carpet)

                         Of course.

 ( BRUNETTE rolls out the wheelchair –)

CHORUS: She hasn’t been outside in over a year.

                    She shouts and protests.

                   Vintage sunglasses are placed on her  to  help process her eyes.

                  Flowers.Bees.Sunshine.Colours.

(More shouts and protests).

MAINTENANCE:  Do you want me to take a picture?

(THE WEED and THE ROSE in unison) Oh yes please.

(Chorus) CLICK !

                  CLICK!

                     Mature cheddar smiles captured against the vines.

THE WEED:  I love you Mrs Thought-bubble.

(Muffled sounds.)

                         I’ll settle for that as an good enough au revoir.

                         Four doors.

                          Four Windows.

                          Four wheels.

                         Taxi takes us very fucking far away from here, please.

THE WEED: (to THE ROSE)     Did you notice that nobody came to clean the chair?

THE ROSE:      Don’t tell me this.

                       Every night I cry myself to sleep 

                          If we move her again she will die.                           

                         Please let her die.

                           Why? 

                            Why?

                             It is beyond my understanding.

Petals start to turn inwards – it’s a crying shame to see rose a  start to wilt.

RED CAP:       There was a sticker attached saying ‘TO CLEAN’

THE WEED:    Oh.

                        I’m sorry.

                         I love you, Rose.

                         I can’t imagine what you are going through.

THE ROSE: (Wilts that tiny bit more)

                         She doesn’t even know who I am anymore.

THE WEED:   I know who you are.

                         You know who I  am.

THE WEED: (aside)

It doesn’t matter if the sun is shining- water will always ignore the air around it. If it wants to pour so it shall.

Tears pour.

Tears break.

 The weed reaches and creeps until it has a secure grip  around The Roses stem.

Hands entwined.

The Weed .

The Rose.

Both look out their own private window.

                            Bee would have loved to see that cow…..

THE ROSE:     ( watered and ready to pose)

                         So tomorrow is a busy day. We have to sort out the cake

THE WEED:   The cake?

THE ROSE:       …the wedding cake?   And We need to find Mr Thought bubble an outfit  for the wedding.

THE WEED:    Is she actually allowed to come?

THE ROSE:        Madam  Hegemony, says it is fine.

THE WEED:    (flat)Oh, Cool. I wonder did we tell the cake makers that we changed the theme from sunflowers to yellow roses?

THE ROSE:     Yes! We are just having yellow icing on normal    flowers..

 THE WEED:     Oh… like the colour on our invitations? 

(Stationary).

THE ROSE:      See you tomorrow.

THE WEED: Mint, Yes.. tomorrow… (as an after thought)

THE ROSE:   10:30, Don’t be late.  We are getting threaded first.

                        Have you got the Bee’s shoes?

THE WEED:  Yes Mam.

THE ROSE:    I swear if you had loads of money in this town you still                                           wouldn’t be able to spend it.

                        It’s all bullshit

(from) THE HORSES MOUTH:

                    And so the earth continues to travel around the sun.

                    The sun goes down.

                  The moon is full-faced and all fluttering eyelashes.

                  And  I still have a long face.

                 Nothing but everything changes.

Nay,

Neigh!

Horses don’t talk.

Neither do flowers

Horse manure.

Bullshit.

Jut another day in ‘I wonder what the fuck  next land?

Just an average day in an average Care home.

 

Image Francecsa Woodman 

 

 

Truth bloom

a strewth sleuth of truths

Twice told

Only one to  realize

They lied to is

yourself.

Grappled thoughts hazed out of  all sincerity

Twice them gamblers cast away all integrity

A dire dice reveals fear & loathing tosser going for a price

Lost to waging another wank with nirvana.

Times now?

Perhaps thrice.

Witness these winners

Outlining unspoken words

ratified a squeaky line of cheese

Exiled

A meta-more selfish imitable of an  Ovidian

Kafkas.

Sniffing  bloody bursts of  betrayal

A mass

Carcass cordoned off by pissing yellow tape.

Not a John Doe – Fate confirms

But your own star crossed lover.

Two tall tale tellers serve hyperbole on the gossip scene —

Two punks who ain’t true to punk for the right reasons.

Caricatures emulate the shadow of these

Proud louts.

Halve these egoistical errors-

Blunted knives

These Terrorists

clothed in night sheets — stark nude

Wanton to retire for a brief interlude

A lie

down.

Sleuth blooms an alternative truth.

Hooked on Floating points & this video is autumnal in the mood.  #goatbahs

 

.Daisy -the Dissident Goat

The song I’m sharing to day is by New Zealand’s very own Bjork-Kimbra. & a blogging associate  turned me on to her.

This is  #goatbahs for today because it makes my heart soar & I feel a great adrenaline kick from it.

 

Mother Nature does discriminate.  Why?

Yesterday, I found out a badger is loose in our garden. I think it’s looking for a place to nest. I decided to google ‘how to get rid of a badger’. The number one solution is:

Human male urine.

Yes, or a hot Scottish bonnet or 8th on the list is Lion’s wee. Even if I was still living in South Africa that would be hard to get.

Mother Nature!

What do single woman/parents do if they are being “urbanised” by a pregnant badger?

Just a thought.

 

My passion has always been for  causes that fight oppression in its many guises. Poverty, discrimination from Mental Health to Homelessness & inequality  , clique groups, media censorship.

This is  a  huge problem  globally,  including places like  Nigeria. It’s devastating to know what is happening in Nigeria. Check the United Nations website out.

 

If we want to be seen as  cultured or considered cultured, we should  strive to educate ourselves. This is what I try to do for myself.

 We are so quick to judge people by what country they come from.

Charles, is Nigerian born man with goals ,ambitions and dreams.

Not every person is a stereo type or trying to scam you.

There are a lot of folk who I’ve realised do scam you ( if you let them). We all need an income, right?

It’s about ethics, inherent  morals we are born with and choosing who you decide to associate with.

This is why I am honoured to  call myself

Daisy-the Dissident Goat.

I think  Charles vision to connect as many creative people  to come together as a community fits in with my vision of what I want to achieve by blogging/writing/goals/career prospects .

  • Connect (with people)

  • Create ( with people or on your own)

  • Collaborate

  • Communicate

Check out What is with the whole GOAT thing?  for more information.

Please check out  CEOLARANTS website for  Q & A as a part of  the dissident team’s  THE DISSIDENT PROJECT.

 

It’s a learning process. We learn & re learn every day in our lives.

I’ve experiences (and still do experience) prejudice & stigma.

I was mentally and physically in a terrible place for 2 years.

And  (now) I’m “woke” .

I almost lost myself, my family and self respect to   scum of society. I allowed myself to be taken for a ride by people who disgust me. Drug dealers

Losers with a drivers licences/bullies & I’ve told them what I think. I’ve also told them I’m not afraid of them either.

Make of that what you will.

Love is a two way street…

So is business.

I have realised by using my wellness recovery tools that self medicating and making plans to end my life was because I felt so little worth about myself & I thought people ( even  wannabe  king pin drug dealers have feelings) had the same integrity & values that I do.

Or, at the very least if a person compromises their values then tries to consolidate the problem.

I’m back  in place where I see my worth again. I see where my energy, time & money is better used.

I’m not a girl for NA  or that kind of set up. I  have my family, friends & support around me.

I’m going to get back into volunteering again.

I’m grateful for Hope Street Calderdale recovery college for seeing the potential in me & giving me the chance to do my own 12 week WRAP  (2015)& then fund for a 5 day course to co-facilitate WRAP  (promo video link)  to give other people as many different tools to navigate and deal with life ups & downs (so to speak).

I still  intend to use my skills when I’m well and unwell to helping other people.

I’ve bonded more with my daughter properly for the first time. I feel focused again. I feel happy when I’m not making myself ill.

I already have diagnosed ‘illnesses-Chronic Anorexia & Bipolar.’ I  have the responsibility to make sure I don’t fall back & do serious damage to myself (in the future) that I cannot undo.

I’m never going to be perfect & that is where I always go wrong. I aim for perfection when there is no such thing.

Even Mother Nature is flawed in all her  complexity & beauty.

 

 

If you’ve read this far…

Thank you for indulging me.

Shout out to Linda for  her  #1linerWeds  prompt & fun writing.

 

Don’t let life keep you bitter

Don’t let life, and how other people treat you let you become bitter. Don’t expect people who keep the same company to be on the same level as you. Be a good person.

Remain honest, full of heart and genuine

You do not owe anything to anyone who chooses to disrespect you or your values.

Remember – we all have our own way of coming to a conclusive thought or opinion. We are human and we feel and it’s okay to talk about our feelings and thoughts.

People are influenced by the company they keep (an observation).

Protect yourself, keep yourself safe -especially when you are a person who has a lot of empathy ,and time for others.

Let other people talk, critique, gossip about you. It doesn’t matter what people do or don’t say who aren’t in your life.

Remember who you are.

We learn everyday of our life.

Stay around people who ask how you are, who care, who stick up for you. Forget about those who don’t.

Give people the benefit of the doubt but don’t ever allow anyone to disrespect you or bring you down.Or make you feel that your values are being disregarded.

Don’t hate. Let people find their own path.

Lessons I’ve learned lately. Opinion is not always the truth. I can’t be responsible for what a person understands.

Copyrighted Natasha bodley

Blood makes noise

I had nothing prepared to blog about in my mind. Again – I thought. No inspiration to type anything.

I’m finding out my inspiration comes from reading your posts!

So thank you.

Today I want to thank Annette @ Annettes place  – post on childhood scars and her using the daily prompt. 

Her child hood scars remind me of my own scars.

One scar I have is huge – it almost wraps all the way around my upper wrist -it is 2-3 cm wide.  Indented, It reminds me of a dried up river.

The cause?

Domestic violence.

Before I continue…

Domestic abuse & Toxic relationships

Rape -NO means NO.

I’m going to state the obvious here.

Domestic violence is a relationship fucks about with your mental health, whether you love the person or not.

 

Toxic relationships have usually tipped me over into using shitty coping mechanisms like drinking too much, taking drugs, overdosing and not managing my medication or my eating disorder and Bipolar.

So back to the blood river scar.

One night- no

Another night of heavy drinking and arguing, I found me in a house -not mine- that looked like a slaughterhouse. all dirty browns. There was a rusty scent of blood impossible to ignore.

Every time I inhaled, the scent would drip down the back of my throat like a  tap -I could taste it too.

I  had mixed copious amounts of alcohol with my medication and all I remember is trying to push my ex away with my left hand ( I am left-handed) , he grabbed my arm and I struggled back.

BLACKOUT

 

 An image.

An arm.

 

 a massive shard of re-enforced window glass- barbered-   poking out of my right arm.

 

Another image.

the back of my exes legs and back running up the stairs.

PANIC 

BLOOD

DRINK

VODKA

WHERE IS THE ORANGE JUICE?

WHERE IS THE GLASS?

WHERE IS MY EX?

BLOOD 

DRIP

BLOOD 

DRIP

BLOOD 

DRIP

BLOOD 

DRIP

PANIC 

PANIC

An arm coated thick with blood. I wear it like an accessory

Blood makes noise.

I hear screaming.

Mine.

Ex reappears and tries to grab me.

I try to run away.

PANIC 

BLOOD

DRIP

I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE.

Why is my ex naked? 

In the middle of the street?

Rolling on the floor with me- trying to muffle my screams with his hand. Trying to stop me from running away...

BLOOD

MIND FUCKERY at its best.

“Look what you have done…” ex says.

6 hours later – location:  hospital.

The doctor asks to speak with me in private. My ex doesn’t want to leave my side.

I don’t say anythingquack quack! quack quack! quack quack!   the word on a loop…

 

“What happened?”  he wants to know.

“We don’t know. We were drinking. I can’t remember. It was an accident.” my ex speaks for us.

My head bows down,it almost appears as if I am nodding. I can’t quite remember.

What I do remember feels like I have made it up, it is so detached from my mind and emotions. It is about as close to me as Pluto or Saturn.

3 days in hospital my ex never left my side.

Not even to go home to wash or brush his teeth.

I wasn’t alone- my mother was with us too.

I was high on morphine for the pain.

Why didn’t they operate sooner? 

Did they want to monitor me? 

The situation? 

Us? 

three days later…  I’m being wheeled on the hospital bed- away from the stale, coughing ward…

“countback with me from 10,” says the anaesthetist.

10 , 9 ,8 ……

BLACKOUT

 

“1”. my eyes burst open. I gasp a breath. It is  like I’ve been living in a home made  sac filled with  half shallow water and half air .

 Disorientated.

What happened?

I look down at the art work the surgeon has done.

No more blood .

re stuffed  re patched, re covered ,

by a micro surgic  hand.

Discharged.

Back to the carnival freak show.

I enter his home – a massacre.

Dry blood everywhere.

Smell.

Bleach.

Sound.

Scrubbing brushes.

Stubborn blood. 

If only it could  serve as a reminder of what actually happened that night.

“I don’t remember” the ex says.

How can he and I not know?

Every time I look at my scar I am reminded of the chaos that was my life for 4 years.

This scar says –

mutilation.

despair.

secrets.

emotions numbed.

detachment.

silence.

silence-1.jpg

This scar reminds me to NEVER be silent in the name of so called love or a sense of loyalty to one who  claimed to   love me so much he would do anything to keep me.

http://www.vevo.com/watch/suzanne-vega/blood-makes-noise/USIV20300313

When I left him, I did not take his threats seriously.

 What he did next gave serious  competition  with the scar I see .

That everyone can see.

Toxic relationships result in severe loss – sometimes that means your life.

Think  carefully about what and who your life may include.

I was re born again on the 06/05/2015.

The day the court ordered social services out of my life.

The day that my ex turned his back on me,  is they day I realised I had been  holding my breath for years.

I had forgotten how to breath.  I might have been dead- a wanderer.

06/05/2015 -I remembered not only how to breathe  again but why.

Life -not just my own but that who is of me.

Life is precious

Life is my responsibility

resumption_by_jorgeremmy-d3drxy2.png

Such a sexy little number

Such a sexy little number

I cry looking for a matching lingerie set

in

case

I want to look great for the moment I hit Downunder.

 

Laugh at your tears

Say a Huge fuck you to your fears.

 

This is the week when bash didn’t do it for me

Sniff

Sniff

Banging

Pocket pat down

hear a  jingle

Family matters is more substantial for me.

 

Write to recover or die trying to live the life of another.

 Freedom will come from sucking the teet from how you was mothered.

 

Be real

authenticate

deliberate who you gonna get rid of

You know them Twockers,

those who instigate?

 

I dilly dally

Think

Cut through the same ally

Second thoughts

Nah, maybe… another time.

 

No masterpiece -is this stream of consciousness

Too oily for an academic poets diet

Borderline poetry on the rocks

Top of the evening to those who think creativity is a bit of alright.

 

.*Song choice is purely based on the dynamics of my relationship with my husband. We are chalk (I am ). and he is pure cheese. 😉