The monster within

Have you got one? I have. I’m getting to recognise her, meet and greet, even go beyond the niceties, sometimes.

As I spend more time alone, I see her more clearly. Flashbacks of her torment, torment me. It’s just too much. The vivid images of her pushing away tossing, flinging out people, places things fills me with fear. Total fear.

Total recall of anguished tears staining her gorgeous apple shaped -cheeks, formed by a heavenly host. Rivulets of tear tracks have left powdery white marks channeled into viscous pronouncements…

Controlling, manipulating, strangling the freedom of Others. Coercing with a sweet smile and a homemade biscuit. Smothering people in love so that they can all but do as instructed. And when ‘no’ is whimpered by a brave soul, she turns….

That’s who I have been. I have needed My Way and without it I’m a dangerous devil.

Some soothsayers and sages, tell me its the Lack in my life that made the Monster. That I should stop calling her the monster and accept the lost infant child without love, without safety, without security that She is..

I just don’t know if I can love her…however needy and raggedy she looks. I’d give money to a beggar on Tottenham court road station but for Her, I have no change. Never. I’ll stick to hating her.

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I feel…

I feel the wind bellowing and brandishing

I feel the enamour clamouring my heart

I hear the music exploding and rising

I see my Dear One sharing the pain, the troughs, the innocence of new love

I remember the wide eyes of my babes, their dancing their skirmishes with image, identity. Their little legs hopping, jumping, skipping.

And now their withered eyes hateful and cold

I see the reflection of Him stirring , pouring,dancing through pots and pans, stretching to reach that unknown texture taste sensation

All for me because He loves me.

Trauma twins.

Was so great to be in the presence of a dear friend today.

We need connection so very badly. All of us. No matter how much we may love our solitary sojourns, other voices keep us tied into a wider community.

I need the affirmation she gives me. It feeds me and strengthens me.

She’s always believed that I have been abused and that Faith in my Word is more valuable than Gold.

She’s always believed that I’m a good mother and again this contradicts my ex and the ICOC church that denigrates women to pre feudal times.

She’s always been adamant that I am capable of looking after myself.

Beautiful sentiments that keep me living and breathing.

Drrrrained

Thank God I’m going out tonight. Hoping to find some positive energy to turn that down pression toward light and sun.

Winter is seeming to drain the life blood out of me.

This week feels like its put alot of us on the back foot

Days are hard and night seems to be the most inviting. Itching for unconsciousness to take me far away.

Ofsted under the brand spanking new framework put the whole school on heightened alert and tension.

Failing hot water drove me and the kids to biting one liners, filling up kettles and buckets with boiling water, incessant moaning and endless calls to the Council.

Proving I should retain child benefit that my ex is trying to take from me, find witnesses for an oncoming court case and fight for benefits that are my Right: enveloped me in mounds of hard, unsympathetic, blank, crackling, white paper – the canvass for hard evidence, I Must Find.

This is too hard.

It’s All on me.

4 hours of driving each day in a derelict car that needs daily top ups of water and oil filled me with exhausted numbness.

Couldn’t even write a blog. Couldn’t enunciate the sadness fog.

Can’t even find it in me to care if the Conservatives get in again, or look forward .. .

Broken

I am with my dear friend.

Have you ever felt like the broken you can only reveal itself in front of very special people?

I don’t even reveal this self to me.

Somehow, the honesty and realness of this connection means the painful stuff just oozes out.

I find myself behaving in strange ways that I don’t recognise…from the strong,independent, black, conscious, single mother I have been told I am.

I find myself filled with fear, a little girl, a baby sucking my thumb, I’m scared of being used, I’m scared to voice my feelings, I’m trembling to say ‘no, I don’t want this’.

Somehow, connecting with this traumatised child inside me is healing me, piece by piece.

Hearing her, holding her, accepting her is eschewing a new serenity.

Thank you Nikolas.

Free at forty…

I had the best night last night.

Just what I needed after a terrifying session at court and drowning in yet more admin around future court cases, benefits,police requests and the like.

Hanging with great people who were foot loose,fancy free and forty plus!!!

Just like me…

I must say…as a recent divorcee with children to care for, life is taking off,taking shape, taking me….

I love it.

I love picking and choosing, musing, ignoring whatever I want with no one to answer to. No muse, mentor, oppressive authority figure.

Just me and my conscience.

It’s invigorating and enlightening to learn how capable I am, with none of those voices of the past telling me how incapable I am.

It’s the best high to see my children slowly coming to life as I am too: resurrected from the religious prison we were dying in.

And it’s super special to bond with other single parents living, loving and hurtling toward our 50s.

The conversation richocheted from cows methane, to fatherly roles,to mixed race politicking, to work stress to mental health to …laughter reigned.

All over Malaysian delectable and wine. Cheers to the first of many.

Blessed bonding.

My babies…

Yes I’m proud of my achievements and of course the phenomenal contribution of my Black South African brothers to Victory…

But I just need to take a minute and remember the amazing contribution to humanity of my children…

They have been through so much as I walk this journey of abuse, depression, homelessness and recovery.

Yet they’re strength of character literally confounds me…

My daughter’s passion for trampolining humbles me. Her dedication and resolve to improve is the stuff of Great athletes.

The way she and my son care for her therapy rabbits brings out the loving, caring side that they’ve buried for years, to protect themselves in an abusive home and church.

The conscientious way my son tutors his pupil Maths and English is so inspirational. He is finding his voice and learning to speak up and that’s a massive achievement. The way he happily and enthusiastically sorts all things electronic and gadget like in the home- is a massive support as a new single mum! It’s the way he shows love.

They’re moving on and I’m so proud…

In time I hope my eldest son and I will be close again. I hope…

But We Are moving on…

Rabbit’s Christmas dinner.
My daughter’s cookies!!!!

Well done me!

I celebrated my achievements with ‘All of Me’ to quote a Billie Holiday classic.

Yes me and some fried bread, bacon,runny poached eggs and salad…soon to become part of me!!!

I celebrate:

Escaping a cult by the skin of my teeth

Protectingmyself from nearly 2 decade abusive relationship with the help of Judges,police, social workers and the like

Doing EVERYTHING in my physical, emotional, spiritual power to heal my kids

Cutting out people who make me doubt my intuition

Moving away from people who my soul is squashed by

Initiating with good souls who care

Fighting for my mental well being whatever that means on that day

Getting benefits when my ex prevented it and people around me doubted it

Working as an English teacher

Getting back into grass roots activism

Starting this blog and the chance to speak out on any ting!!!!

Trusting Myself!!

Please share what you celebrate about YOU XXXXXXX