SINK,SWIM,FLY,CRAWL-how I fought social services to get my child back

First posted 2015

Content: How I got my daughter back-  and issues of control/ being out of control

Well bloggers we are already into week three on blogging101 course. Today’s topic is about when you hit writer’s block and using a prompt and to make that prompt personal to your blog.  Let me know what you think.

MY PROMPT:’SINK OR SWIM’ 

This morning I woke up with a feeling of loss and  a heavy anchor weighing me down. I should have been buzzing. I was three hours away from meeting up with a girl who works with a mental health charity and to work together on a one off workshop to close the stigma between the volunteers and the people they help. Below is all I had to type this morning: warning alert: very woe woe woe is me and not WOW WOW at all. BEFORE I CONTINUE: It came about that THIS LOVELY LADY has recently launched her first novel. How amazing is that? I can’t wait to read it. 

THIS IS WHAT I MANAGED TO WRITE  YESTERDAY MORNING :

Why do I only see ugly? What is wrong with me.I can’t love my cat or daughter or partner cos I have trouble accepting me. Why is outer beauty so important to have when I see the beauty of people in all their different guises. My heart has been rung out . The salty ness stings increasingly as it courses through my veins. pumping –you are ugly  you are not good enough.Why now? why these feelings now? My next challenge – like a bull waiting , snorting – A Red mist descends. Red mist that at the end will be..  I had writers block I couldn’t think of anything poetic to say. All words seemed shit and I felt shit.  

So let me get real and tell you what is really on my mind My head has been doing 360 degree turns lately like that possessed chick in every movie about hauntings and possession.  Except it has been me not some movie.  My weight has been going up and  up – I have had no control. Even with me eating healthily. The numbers have  kept on  going up. I have been getting a  daily beasting from the  Goddess of hard core exersises -Jillean Micheals. No bullshit. No pansy-ing out. No quitting. I am no quitter.Not a sinker. No Titanic. Why is this fucker in my head fucking with me now. I’m finally getting somewhere with myself and what I want to invest all my working time in.

Yup, so I have really been struggling with my mind for a few months Isn’t that crazy? Me wanting to help people who are struggling? I’m struggling. . I had to let go of the figures on the scale. I’ve never done that. How did I  do it?  well,  I decided  I like eating (yes, Anorexics can like eating)  and I eat healthily  already so, I was not about  to go hungry and become ill again. No, this is my time. I wasn’t going to start taking overdoses to cope with the madness inside me – skewered. grilling me .It was bedlam in my head. True bedlam.

I stopped weighing myself every day. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER.  I carried on with 40 minutes of  an intense cardio workout . I didn’t carry on doing 3-4 hour workouts like I have done previously. I did not start monitoring my fluid intake.  In fact I did the opposite and btw  my skin looks the best it ever has. I had to get moving. Get out the house and live.  The critters inside jittering and chattering and  fluttering  chaotically in my mind could carry on.I  carried on with life.

I got out there and I followed through on my next goal. I have my daughter back . I’m already a student with full BA(hons) in Arts and the humanities. I’ve booked our wedding for next year. The one I was never ever going to have. I am finally in a place to help people.

I don’t care if I don’t get paid I’m getting so much back from this.

You know what is even more chaotic than my recent state of mind?  okay -ready?  The training I have been put on to do, is all stuff I worked out on my own and with my family when social services wanted to put my daughter up for adoption.

Why didn’t they get HOMESTART in first?

Or THE FAMILY INTERVENTION TEAM?

How come they didn’t tell me about a 12 week course called called WRAP ( WELLNESS RECOVERY ACTION PLAN)  that helps a person put together a support package if a person’s  health starts to get distressed?

This is not some new concept or specialised training. It’s been going on for years and being taught in prisons and schools today. Why didn’t any of the social workers I know signpost me in these  directions?

I stayed up into   the early hours of the morning for weeks. Researching online to find an answer to convince  social services that I could be a mom and  have times when my mental health isn’t all that cracking.  In my research I came across something called ‘ the circle of protection’ (very Lion king – the zulu bit -youknow what I’m on about? an epiphany or something.

Why had none of these highly qualified social workers, guardians of the court, these professionals.. but me thought to put a contingency plan in place?

When my daughter  was put under an interim care order. obviously, I  attended court. The letter for the court date arrived days after the court hearing. I was lucky that I had my family to give me the heads up. I didn’t know that the  alleged assault charges against me , that had been dropped (because their was no physical evidence to suggest that I shook my 12 week old daughter) was only the beginning of  an incredibly long fucken journey home. I was like Hercules and his 12 labours.

Back to the morning of 14/12- Confused, in a state of panic -The former manager of social services – I like to call her Miss Hannigan-you know from ‘Annie’ the movie?  I swear she looks and acts like Miss hannigan – every professional I described her too- could not keep a straight face.

Do I hear happiness here?
Do I hear happiness here?

They knew exactly who I was on about. Anyway, so after court, the wooly and rather snivelly  cardigan came into view- like a red flag. Her voice was the second thing I noticed ,she sounded like one of Marges sisters from the simpsons.

I was like : Where is my daughter going? you can’t just take her from me!

She spluttered in that voice.  

Stop the drink- stop the shit and sort your life out . I wish she could take her own advice.

I found out about a 12 week group called the  FREEDOM PROJECT that was running in my neck of the woods. In a nutshell it is a 12 week group that helps women understand why we  enter and stay in abusive relationships. I took Miss Hannigans advice  and self- referred myself to my   LOCAL SUBSTANCE MISUSE TEAM and  I  engaged with a wonderful woman to work out what my drink issues were and how I could manage them. We tried various plans until we  both agreed  that whilst all this was going on, drinking was probably not going to be drunk for the ‘right reasons’. I went to every mother- baby group I could could go to.  I could only see my daughter 10  hours per week. I missed 7 contact sessions in 12 months. There was  a local contact centre only 5 minutes up the street from where I lived. I had no problems with anybody in that contact centre. Lots of positive feedback.  The contact worker who had become emotionally involved told us she had been taken off  as  our contact worker. Social services and my ex felt that the contact worker was being biased. It is not my fault that every other person who met him thinks the same thing. Whatever that may be.

So,a new contact lady comes on the scene. We did not mix well. It happens in life. I can’t love everyone 😀 Next thing I know and I was now taking  two buses to go and see my child – in a contact centre monitored by cctv like a criminal. This is how the dynamics of our relationship went. If I got on with spending time with my child and didn’t talk much with the contact worker-  she said I was being hostile. If I did chat with her -she said I was distracted and not mentally focused on my child. This contact person has no mental health qualification. Her job  is to collect children from carers/family homes and take them to  a ‘neutral’ meeting/ contact centre and to make sure the child or children get back home safely. She is a fucken flawed human. All her notes ( she was a fan of all the disney songs – those notes were just as agonizing to hear)  were being gurned  into the social workers reports.This is one opinion from someone who was not even qualified. It felt like she was there to prod and provoke a reaction out of me.

I asked the court to authorise  a hair strand test for alcohol and drugs  to be done. The test was only done 7-8 months after my baby was taken into foster care.  It came back negative that I was an alcoholic and drug taker. I am on prescription meds  so that obviously came up.  The non alcoholic levels  of drinking found in my hair proved to them I had drunk alcohol but not at the levels they were making out.From  the period  I decided  to go teetotal the levels had reduced even more.  It all  came back negative.

I was in a very violent and manipulative relationship. This  ahem.. man treat me like something he found in the gutter. He warped my mind.  My mental health was exacerbated in that relationship. I dealt with this issue and I don’t want to say more on here out of respect for my daughter. He walked away when he lost control. When my daughter is at an age she can make and formulate her own opinions  that will be the time I decide to give her the information about her paternal father and seek him out and ask him whatever questions she wishes too.

I paid nearly £400 to do a parenting course online because social services stated I could not do a certain group because my ex was attending it and my daughter had to be over 5 years of age.  He got on it because he has two sons under 18. I got my daughter back under a  full care order -on the 28/04/2013 .  She was not even three  years old and all of a sudden I could attend this 12 week government funded parenting course for free. I had THIS IRO ‘professional’ come into my home and threaten me. She tried to wind me up because I made a comment about her not even having met my daughter and she was the person to ratify the adoption plan. She sat on my living room suite and re-iterated that it was her that ratified the adoption plan and still held that view.  If I had a problem with her then I could change  IRO’s.

I looked her straight in the eyes and I said “NO, you and me are going to see this through to the end” -It was like something out of a western movie. Eyeballing one another.

“Yes. we will” she puffed out her chest and chuckled to her ‘henchman’ .The person she brought with her to intimidate me. What makes me want to poke out her eyehole is at the final LAC review meeting she was hugging me and saying I had taught her something about people with mental health issues and  she realised how ignorant she had been. This woman works with dozens of cases like mine everyday. Mental health is not a new endemic in society. I hope ,you the reader can see why I am ranting at this..

I always say ‘ I hold up my hands  I am far from being perfect‘. I would actually like this to be emgraved on my grave. I have said the phrase so many times.  The thing is  but I put in the effort in and they did not want to own up that they fucked up and I wasn’t what they read on paper and what they thought I would be like. ALL PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ARE DELUDED RIGHT? HAVE NO SENSE OF REALITY..

Here is my point, It didn’t have to go straight to adoption but it was easy for them to place  my innocent  12 week year old child. Blue eyed  with blonde hair and  not soiled and tainted from being ragged around a defunkt system.  No behaviour issues. An easy adoption case. They call it ‘twin tracking’

Ha , you should have seen the  guardian’s face when I told her that the chances of my daughter being adopted after being told that mental health issues run in her paternal and or maternal family drops. She was 25% less likely to get adopted.  Oh they loved me. My legal team were ace. I communicated and I asked questions and I researched.

As a volunteer I have a ticket to go to this PARENTING AND MENTAL HEALTH CONFERENCE

I hope a few social workers will be there to learn something about mental health .

I’m not angry. I finally know why I went through all this shit. now I  can do the professional training and help other people.  I’m not bitter- AM I FUCK?  Thank you social services for giving me such a hard time. It has led me to take the actions to   where I am in this new chapter in my life. I am strong and empowered and passionate and every time I have fallen in my life,  I get up.  Everytime. These other less invasive  helpful  services should  be taken into account and be brought to the attention of a person before they start taking kids off their parents and family without the full facts. I’m not talking about the families where abuse goes on. I’m telling you what I have experienced  There is so much wrong with the system. I’m gonna volunteer my heart out.

Thank  fuck for silver linings. I not only have my daughter and my partner and my beautiful  family and friends  to live for but I have been given a gift of knowledge and I will be trained to help people who need some support and advice. I must share this knowledge of how I got my baby girl back and how much I have changed and how fucken exhilarating and terrifying   it is but it is worth the fight. I’m not the only one. There are so many more who are terrified to talk because they feel threatened and bullied by social services. CHANGE  must happen and I will do anything I can to be a part of that.  If you have read this far. Thank You. Never give up your right to speak . I had a  ‘gagging order’ imposed upon  me when my child was a ward of the courts( This is the law in England) . I don’t anymore and I am well within my legal rights to post this.  I want to use my skills and my creativity in writing and acting to help people remember  how to communicate again and it is a right of theirs to have a voice…

P.S. I still am partial to a cocktail or two  when I’m not looking after my health  for one thing or another -usually for a dress to fit in to  go somewhere.

P.P.S. I have written a stage play inspired by these events with a Brecht like influence. I wrote it for my final end of module assignment for my degree at the Open university and I got a 1st for it.  I might put it up sometime . I might not.

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and so, they lived…

Life update

I’ve finally received my results for my 1st year, doing my Masters, in Creative writing.

Drum rolls.

PASS-with merit. I officially can use more random letters after my name — ha ha!

I  am now  in possession of a post graduate certificate in the Arts and Humanities!

giphy7

Wow! Amazing.

How’s this going to help me with what I want do?

I have a dream.

I do. 😀

One of my goals is to move back to France. They love people with diplomas. I hope to get a well paid job there. I need to book a trip to The French embassy later on this year. My husband has decided he is going to take on my surname and become a French national.  He’s English!

He’s not only English, he is  Northern, from  West Yorkshire.

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I need to register my Bella Bee as a French national because even though she is more English than I am. Born here.  English Dad and roots. The British government  will not give her a British  passport because I was ordered by her majesty’s court to  register her Fathers name on her birth certificate and now they won’t give her one!

Beauracratic nightmare.

I feel so uneasy about my family not having a passport. My entire life, It was drummed into me to always have my passport (in date)in case, we moved countries.

Which we did- a lot!

Moving on . ( pun unintentionally intended  :D)

What’s  happening in my life?

Loads of shit- ha ha! as usual.

I’m doing better –  I keep making a come back.  Oh, life – you little tease!

Dare me to live.

 Dare me to succeed!

Challenge accepted.

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Daisy’s mental health 

Yeah, it’s been.

up and down,

down ,

down ,

down –

up again ,

very up –

insanely manic,

toxic,

low,

not quite sure

,emotional ,

aargh why did that and that and that and ..

did I do that?

Those kind of moments, really.

 

Surely someone can relate?

Not happy about a medication increase in my anti depressant.

I don’t of any person who is on  (high/ highest legal doses) of

Two antidepressants

Two anti psychotics

Two anti anxiety tablets,

and sleeping medication.

I know  my health posse want the best for me.

I don’t bullshit them.

I tell if I’ve been using shit coping mechanisms, good ones. Thoughts ,feelings…

I made my psychiatrist laugh.

Go me!

giphy8

HE LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE THIS 😉

He offered me psychology therapy — again .

I was like:

‘Look Dr J, seriously every time I sign up to a pyschologist , they leave!’

 All my psychologists have left me half way through  doing whatever new pycho babble, current trend treatment , is used, to deal with folk such as myself.

One dude, fell asleep in a couple of our sessions.

So, I was like

‘ Listen, I know how to use CBT/DBT, I know how to communicate and talk. I know what keeps me well . I just want a cure’

Another laugh escapes from Dr J.

He is a legend.

A legend ? yes, but not a wizard 😦

He totally gets me and I feel I have a choice in medication changes etc..

I’ve asked to come off one of my meds because I don’t see the point of being on it. It hasn’t helped me.

These meds have affected my memory. I’m terrified of getting Dementia. I’ve been on (legal) tablets since I was 13/14 and I’ve never been off medication.

Never!

Talking about memory.

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I’m using my creative outlets to start getting into the open mic poetry scene .

I love performing but my memory is really rubbish. I’m going to brave it by doing more live poetry next week. I’m excited. Nervous.  It’s all good.

I have my final year of my MA to keep me — super  occupied.  There is a lot of work to do. For part of my thesis ( check me out)

I’m thinking of using my blog to interview creative folk who live in my community to talk about, their work,  (durr!)  Creativity and their mental health. My photographer mate is on board to take pictures. Some people have shown interest — yeah!

My heads occupied which is good.

Fab!

Awesome!

How will doing this  help me with my thesis and final work?

Well, I am going to use this year of discovery and research on the link between mental health and creativity as an alternative form of therapy to cope with life’s unpredictable moments.

Then I  will have loads of inspiration to write a film script (120 minutes) on a character ,who , is thrown back into society after a long stint in mental /prison  institutions , and who is looking to find him/herself  and another way of being  and expressing him/herself  positively, in society.

The opening scene will kind of look like this

I have an ending – (a bit abstract at the moment) – saying there words:

‘I look around for the first time with clarity. And see I’m exactly where I need to be. Around the misfits. The beautiful misfits just like me.’

DAISY’S UN NAMED CHARACTER 

It’s all early days and I still have  4 scripts to write, a critique and a character  analysis on a famous playwright to do before the final chapter.

All in all. I’m alive, optimistic-ish, full of emotion, drive, passion , a pain in the ass but just doing my thing. 

All terribly boring really… 😀 

So, I am back!

I can’t commit daily to blogging but I have joined a group on Facebook.  

Shout out to Gary @ fiction is food  for adding me.

It’s a website for us!

BIG UP YOUR BLOG!

Bloggers.

 I’m  a newbie, its good be around other bloggers again. I’m hoping it will keep me  off Facebook and keep me connecting with people like yourself. People who use their time more productively. Doh, oh the irony.

One rant before I go :   I wish people would stop leaving public posts about my appearance on my Facebook.

If you ever happen to read this

I know you are having a shit time dealing with your own weight issues. I’m well aware of mine. Please take a look at yourself. Look after yourself first. If you don’t – FUCK OFF! 

 

That is a wrap.  I know. Hilarious! ha ha!

Thank you so much for reading

Time to step out and live real life..

Catch up soon!

giphy9

What’s everyone else doing with life?  Blogging?

I’m genuinely curious to know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The unsensational one dimensionals

 The pain inside me remains the real deal

It’s  a tragedy how I  only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.

The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.

Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.

I swear, I  look forward.

Stand up for where I  go wrong and who I  maim.

Revolving doors of asylum,  inpatient wannabe beauticians.

Incredulous  that  my  own mother

bipolar, institionalised,

beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.

Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T.  waves and the  barbed wire.

Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.

It’s  a loop on a loop.

more drama –

 Every.

Week.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

every week its  the same song coming out in different shade of blue.

This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.

My child is my glory.

You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?

 instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation  sign

 Call the crisis team.

We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested  government.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not drinking

I’m not overdosing

 Not taking drugs.

Merely holding myself at a metaphorical  gunpoint.

I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.

Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.

A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.

Numbers  are his torment – he looks to  them like riches dripped in gold.

an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –

It  must be all light  and sage.

Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.

No daughter to say good bye to ,

 no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.

In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.

I’m not in Africa.

I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.

Social media , I hate.

Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.

Two weeks away from my deadline.

 Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities

I  should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.

I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen  to their woes.

I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.

 They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.

I know I shouldn’t expect,

then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.

I do,

 i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 filled with  infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!

So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?

I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.

the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .

 Enough with another  ‘daughter following  in her mother’s  steps’ delusion.

There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain  old wickedness.

We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.

look beyond your eye line fall.

Seek and you  will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.

Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.

 Fakery

 it’s  beyond a joke.

Cutting down on so called friends.

re catagorise my means to justify making  ethical ends.

 People see right through you

Unless your name is printed in black and white.

The best stars shine and go about unseen,

making wishes of hope seem bright.

Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.

It’s all hype.

they barely even look alive.

I want justice.

I want the people who make a difference

 to get credit where its due.

I’ve had enough of this  fake bakery .

Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.

I’m done with pretentious folk .

Emotional  vampires who expect.

Because they think they precribe the ideal look.

Its sad, a shame.

Don’t get caught up in the superficial.

Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.

Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.

We need to communicate

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

That keep them  reaching out for 39p tissues.

I’m here for authenticity.

Denounce those who I see,

in all their duplicity.

I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.

selfish,

marred

 How tragic is this situation?

Goodbye to many of you.

who will never wake from your boggled  eyed fallacy.

I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .

I see clearly what and who holds me back.

My sole purpose is to stay on track.

So good bye to some of  those

I’ve met on my path

Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.

I aint got no more energy for you.

My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –

Well overdue.

 Mini life update 14 days  until I  hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛

I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓

I have news….

A director (not name dropping) wants me  to send him my script about the homeless couple.

I don’t think Im going to……..

Or maybe I should …..

I don’t know.

I’ve never thought  I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.

It”s scary to think that success is possible.

Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I  meet  people who see the good in me .

 I don’t want to feel like shit around people.

So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.

Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.

 Be humble.

Life is a blessing already

One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.

I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.

This heart beats.

These eyes have fire behind them

DAISY
Xxx

 

Goofy syndrome

Mouthwash gargle soprano interlude

Still damned if I do or don’t by my inner feud.

Can’t Darwiniate   😉 like a bird fish off the fly

grow a pair and touch the sky.

Sunshine intervenes, always with this static state of mind.

If I started to grow and extend a branch – could it be so bad as to what I find?

Life needs nurture – decay -70 pounds of envy watching Nervosa images online.

Scales de harmonise ‘we are family’ tune

burning the bridge -wasting so much of this vessels time.

Come out and play and invest in cherished moments

priceless .

This choleric temperament pillaged every time I stand my ground spasmodic

crisis.

Fits jump to the left -turn your cap back to front and leave me in the wind.

Some don’t mind making a life out of lying down – this vessel scowls in an impediment.

Little dwarfs fall from the sky.

Black holed theories bask in the sun,

nebulous erasure

convinced counting blue sheep will make sense

constantly on the run.

Never have to leave current occupied dwelling

yet, so convinced I’ve spun around the globe and back- so quick to reject love.

Trees I planted.

Trees  I denied oxygen -another one down from the felling.

breathe of grit

fluoride is the key to mutate this smile.

Disposition in denial.

government extends VAT -we all walking the green mile.

Pencil rapping,

wooden table – fraternise with education.

Anxiety levels cut off all circulation

 Leaving all my bluds homeless without an occupation.

Distress call.

Look above you for the murmuration.

Gone gainst my nature – this character is in a constant dance with eternal damnation.

One theory for all of this!

Life straight through to death;

so many of us become motherless.

Sorrow in faces- show me the money.

natures green is the only path to the land of pure honey.

Extinction of the masses. Humans are not as smart as we think.

The creator reveals a divine plan the golden ratio printed on everything.

No time to blink.

Floppy child syndrome, fetus rest dormant for 36 weeks.

Blood, tears and love -fallible, selfish

there are side effects to every action each of us seeks.

Fear destroys love.

Hate is Its biggest symptom.

Ever seen a child frown sliding down into his daddies arms?

rapid growth,

we could be forgiven for thinking

Life is a phantom.

Feed into reality.

Make happiness a closer eventuality.

exacerbate the problem until people do that point saved for those deemed suffering from stupidity.

Set the sound wave.

my biggest moan is why can’t I be a shade of norm Amish tone?

Forever on the collect call waiting for the silence on the other end of the phone.

Heartbreaking words to have everything

and denounce my own.

 

Found: Inner Panacea

*only you can decide which oddities are worth keeping or eliminating some most definitely are worth keeping- the ones that make you feel alive keep- the ones that make you feel ugly and insignificant -discard*

TIP  FOR  A SENSE OF EMPOWERMENT:

Expose

Detox

Eliminate

Cleanse

 repeat regularly. 

Bonjour tristesse, I leave you without a second glance.

6hours to go until a new dawn greets me with its fiery dance.

No amount of Moons ago,  could I  foresaw this trip to  such a  bodacious planet.

Lavender dreams interrupted by the need for a bubble bath to cleanse my soul,

enrich my palate.

How it  leaves me in stark clarity,

 other daisies grow wildly in meadows.

2 am cleanse off- eliminate others’ unwanted worries and troubles.

Herbal tea infusions – a meet up with friends who know about life’s true haggles.

Comments intended to cut to the core.

Manage to lick-up   one salty tear

begging for more.

A soul is awoken when it faces all directions.

Never blind yet always courageous to evoke dear affections.

Common goals shared by trolls made by the same finger pointing corporation

Pity those who continue to live not a decade but over half a century in miserable devastation.

Hot water filling a tub – a sauna to enlight.

Voices

You are “divorced”, a drama queen, I only wanted a  shag.

It tickled your delight to dangle carrots when I was newly married

you are most certifiably unbecoming the state of inner jihad.

I’m  having fun acting in a workshop.

That accent is dreadful I can sign you up for electrocution elocution lessons.

Don’t mind me having a gas- the whole purpose of improvisation is to get involved.

 Don’t use me as a pawn for fear of being put under your harsh self-imposed scrutiny.

You are ugly.

 the biggest topic under dissection in a house full of self-confessed millionaires.

All those beatings, and  Sangria holiday hangovers yet,

 still, no permanent fix for happiness to last longer than a child’s joy at the penultimate of funfairs.

Three perfect lessons in all that is wrong not  with me, but with others,

who can’t equate strength alongside vulnerability.

How can it be true that the two run side by side like rivers?

 merging into one ocean of clear waters.

Confucianism arise in accountability.

No one can possess opposing characteristics!

 She does not conform to why we hate her

so, now we must turn up the  gas lighter

 justify our vexes and vehemence to assure we are credible witnesses, to attest, this Red lettered calamity remains  hidden,

 In dead carcasses.

Oh, Shame!

we shall honor you and remain her loyal Foe.

A few written words, at an ungodly hour.

I’ve never been one to conform to another with power.

Time is up, my bath tub is run.

Imagine it freestanding.

careless in an era where it is encouraged to be eccentrically unique. cartwheeling in a  quest to not only live and work hard,

 remember to have fun.

*inspired by toxic people.

Daisy, how can you just assume it’s other people who are toxic and not you?

Well, I say it takes one to know one.

I know how to be toxic, I’ve been toxic and I know how it feels to live away from toxic vibes and people. *

SOS!

Sometimes it’s not the people who actually know you -who want to see you succeed but I know when I started blogging on WordPress, I found a supportive community of people on here.

Sometimes it takes the people who don’t know us to see something in us that others can’t or won’t.

We are live!

La bella bijoux Ltd is online!   LOOK HERE

This is the start of a long and hard and remarkable journey.

I have so much to learn. SEO blah blah

I’m getting there

PLEASE  can you like my business facebook page

LA BELLA BIJOUX FACEBOOK

FOLLOW me on instagram

Share my Blog post on WIX -PLEASE.    HERE

Today, I have drafted scene two of my TMA 3 – Omniscience – about a girl with second sight.

I’m about to get ready to get a train to do  Week two of the Drama workshop I am on.

My Bella made her own jewelry last night. In 20-30 years times, it will be vintage and Retro. ha ha!

I will catch up on all the study material etc on the train to Leeds university, I need to catch up on.

I found out over the weekend that in May 2017 ( if I pass)  I get a post graduate certificate in the Humanities.

AMAZING.

Thanks for being so patient.

36186390-368-k525336

 

Twirl cray cray Daisy

*Please feel free to throttle me/ unfollow me. This is worse than Trollope tripe -it would be more pleasurable watching a live abortion. Maybe that is inappropriate. I don’t think there is anything pleasant about what I have just let myself type.  Apologies*

I think I feel a little sick.

Success is opening up her arms and people waving flags with my initials on it.

Sounds narcissistic but I guess I am afraid of the things I want most.

Success, Praise love, and Happiness.

Seamless drama is never far from a molecule in a foreign body on an abstract shoreline.

Possibly an inch closer to the imperial mix.

Take me up to shallow waters to bubble blowers and fellow talkers.

Don’t say it was me who created this venture.

I should have known ‘off the bat’ how it all works,

I’m feeling the inferiority rapture.

No, I don’t think I’m grand.

I don’t have time to glance in my Id crescent- shaped reflector.

I’m too busy overtaking the speed of light

working on the next bender, I mean.. adventure.

Praise me. I say thank you. I might even put a smile on for the finale.

Inside I’m thinking:

If you knew me I would be the one laughing when I hear some dude pronounce the G – in the word gnarly.

This is how I push people away. I make them think I have the flair to take every offer going spare.

Ditch me.

Hitch me.

Guaranteed, I will hike up the rent on the boardwalk by the glitchy sea.

I don’t know who to talk to.

These four walls and a cerebrum of characters have overspilled,

bulging out of their zippers.

appealing for me to gaze down to the center of all taboo.

Replace this mind below the gentry hippers.

Inside I need a pressure valve replacement.

Are they right?

the ones who make me feel I’m wrong like I’m a pyscho.

I tipple over the mountain edge in fright.

Who to believe?

The ones who make me feel I’m ugly inside?

an object on the outside – something to be used – an animated tool.

Or,

do I believe the ones who make me feel like the sun shines?

every time I reach out

generously,

pouring my words over anyone who feels the need for a breeze of air:

Brand name:

Legit fresh cool 

Inside I’m tumbling.

A Scotsman in true fashion – rolling down hills with wee scant from a below eye level.

The mailer in this ale is taking its time to zoom around this corpus Christi.

 The one in whose image we are declared.

 Hear them all rebel when I tell them to leave my goat- she has her own bell.

I don’t believe in religious carnality.

I  believe I’m here.

Think I can only post something reeking in banality.

I wonder.

All the time.

I look for a reason for why people are wrong to love me.

I get bored and frustrated.

I look back when Evolution dictates to reason that I must move forward to reach the charlotte caramelized sea.

Don’t look back in anger.

Ska- lites.

Beats drop.

Avalanches of prejudice awaits me.

Raging in a carnival of colored palettes.

Two-tone is a note to hear something based on sweet civility.

Chivalry crept up on me and I made a splash.

Juxtaposed in the style of the clash.

More whale than mermaid -not quite the sight I was hoping you would remember me.

Vacuous timing.

bobbing on a skyline.

Can  I stand up or will I end up putting myself out?

Surprised at how I manage to keep the white cloaks from rapping at my window.

 I’m sure  I made a terminal agreement to sign myself in if

my face didn’t resume back to timeless position after a session of ‘the heavy pout’.

To make up or not to make up.

To share and be open or hide and whisper Goethem.

Reeled back to a cause – a club with red tape around the chill out room.

Stumped, I could be in a forest, for all you know, I could be higher than that blue kite.

Erect like her witches wooden broom.

My minds a place of genuine fear at times.

I can feel people waiting to hear what will come out every orifice.

Laugh with me or at me.

Make sure you got a clue what you on about – in every topic up for discussion.

don’t look around for a bar room tit,

just so you can feel a head higher than the king of Epileptic fits.

Rudimental,

judgemental.

The most viscous harness whip I encounter is my own corpus callosum.

It comes out at me, at you,

at the crowd.

Prey eyes – fear the bird with the talisman.

Some days I think about being ordinary, then I think,

of course, I’m beyond that station of being so free.

I let fools rush in – I make a meal with plenty of meat and two servings of potato

I doubt myself too much.

I talk way too much shit to get any credit for how this piece ends

Did you know I have long toes?

My favorite ice cream is the one with the little Eskimo.