Proud.

I’m proud.We made our first dinner for friends.

Reframing trauma is starting to work.

I created some christmasy ingredients with a twist -dishes.Turkey breast in a tomato, spinach and Chorizo sauce. Chocolate cheesecake with sweet cranberry sauce.

He made Thai soup and delicious sides. We danced around each other, sharing our cooking space elegantly. A symbiosis of kindness meets kindness.

What a team we’re becoming! Our guests loved being waited on and it was a total pleasure.

The Prosecco flowed and the laughter reigned. Long may this continue…

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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.

Peace.

When you’re not used to it. Peace is strange.

It’s a feeling of nothing that is quite disconcerting: moving slowly, mind and body in sink, nothing pressing on the mind.

It’s worrying because I wonder…is this the start of a new bout of depression or some new psychiatric disorder…

I am grounded and I’m enjoying the nothing of mind, body, spirit. Grounded in The Now. The feel of my new extra thick socks, the bitter wind caressing my cheeks, the vision of the shadowy moon hiding behind drifting clouds, the grains of peanuts assaulting my taste buds in my creamy peanut punch.

No rush. No urgency.

The problems will be here tomorrow.