What is luxury to me?

I have always loved reading books about cosmic ordering and creating your own reality and yet still I haven’t mastered my own mind enough to make the realities I want – happen.  I am not at all surprised at my financial status for two reasons, I am sick and don’t work and therefore live on benefit handouts, I do try and do something to help change this, but sometimes it can become too much to handle with all the daily symptom managing – also I am not at all surprised at my financial predicament because of another matter… the fact that I find money one of the biggest evils in the world, so therefore, it keeps away from me because of that mind-set.  Well that is what cosmic ordering experts would say anyway.

So it is my own fault for two reasons.  One I believe that money is a source of evil and two I am too sick therefore can’t work, therefore the universe adds more sickness to keep me in that reality.  It is pretty screwy stuff, but I actually believe it to be true, which makes it all the worse for me I guess?

I am in what I call a ground-hog day of sickness and poverty and I have the knowledge that my own beliefs can change that.  So, why can’t I favour money in a more benign light?  Because I would be lying to myself, that is why and for me, lying to my-self is an even worse evil.

I have always been by nature a very philanthropic person, therefore I have tried to think about who could benefit from my future wealth, when I get it?  There is always someone in need and I always want to help, but I am not a sucker for a sob story unless there is evidence for it first.  So I have tried to concentrate on benevolence regarding money, because as evil as money is, in the current social climate it can be a blessing for many.  I have another belief about finances too, whether or not it contradicts my former belief that money is evil or not, remains to be seen.  But I have always lived by this financial code of conduct (before benefits came into my life) that 33.3% of my earnings go to me and my needs, this includes bills and essentials and fun, 33.3% goes into savings and 33.3% is invested in some way.  Now to me an investment doesn’t have to go towards a personal gain for me, it can be an investment for a charity of which I will not benefit from – to me, it is a social investment, bettering the society I live in, I deem an investment.  Not many people can understand where I come from stating this, but to me it is quite simple, the more money you put into your local charities and amenities, the more you will benefit and future generations will benefit.  It is a shame people recoil so much from taxation and donating, they just don’t see how it can benefit their local area, and they can only see what benefits them, unfortunately they don’t always see it as a positive circle which could include them eventually.

Currently we live in a world where the idea of a no money system is a non-starter; as much as I hate it, I have to come to terms with it and work out a system for my-self which will make me and others around me happy.

I have never really wanted huge extravagances, but I have wanted comfort and happiness – I mean, who doesn’t?

To me a luxurious life would come across very basic, plain and simple to a lot of people of today.  My main desires for a happy and indulgent life is determined by how big a piece of land is that I will personally own in order to grow my own food, raise my own chickens and geese, build an adventure playground for my children, entertain guests with lovely BBQs or alfresco dinner parties, a very large area for rewilding, as I love wildlife and want to save it.  I have thought if I ever became rich that I would buy woodlands just to make them a nature reserve, stopping logging companies and housing from using the land. 

For me a luxurious life means I would be able to afford natural fibres for my clothing, I dislike all the plastic in my clothes.  I would be able to afford a very healthy allergen free semi-paleo diet – why semi-paleo?  I like legumes; I like vegan cheeses and gluten free grains that’s why.

My idea of true happiness is the ability to care for animals too.  To have the pets that I desire, though I will not be one of these horrific pet hoarders like most people who know me personally think I could be if my finances were better, I am not like that; I will never take on more than I can manage.  Despite my dreams about running a small holding or a farm, I know and realise it is just a dream, even for when I am better off, because I know my physical limitations, and unless I can afford staff to help me run things, then I can’t live exactly how I want to.

For me, luxury is being able to go out to town and choose something to eat without worrying about the cost.  Without worrying that my trip to town on a bus and a lunch would actually take half of my week’s food bill away – which it currently does, hence why I rarely see the doctor, despite needing to see them more often than I do.

Luxury also means that a zoo trip won’t be negotiated with Henry about whether or not, if we go to the zoo, we may not be able to go to the Severn Valley this year or have a birthday party, and to me luxury would mean that we can do it all that year and go to other places too, such a beach – we’ve never been to a beach as a family before.  I haven’t been to a beach since I was fifteen years old!  I have only visited the beach twice in my entire life!

I have never had a proper holiday, the only thing that came close to it was a four day camping trip in Yorkshire with some spiritual friends, but that is the only real holiday I have ever had.  I am curious about a few places in the world, but I wouldn’t say I have a strong desire to travel; I am very boring regarding this.  I get home sick by day four; I can’t be away from home for more than four days at a time.  I am a home stayer and lover.  For some reason people think this makes me a recluse?

Unfortunately the places I would like to go to are so remote, it will take four days to get to them, I have researched, and so by the time that I would have got to those places, I would be pining for home again.  I find it a struggle to be in hospital for more than three days.  I know that isn’t exactly a holiday, or a hotel, but the ten day stay at hospital when I was having Henry was very emotionally difficult for me that they felt the depression was postpartum and very nearly kept me in longer because of it, until I had almost broken down and burst into tears explaining how I have never coped being away from home for too long.  Then they had to release me.

I think I know why I am like that.  In my past when I have been away from home for more than four days, I have come home to big changes that were always uncomfortable.  Also after around two weeks of being somewhere something strange happens mentally, where I feel like that new place is a new home and unless I leave that place quickly, I will start to pine for that too.  There are many places in the UK I pine for, even to this day, because of stays longer than four days.  Not holidays, family visits that were prolonged.  I don’t include a six week stay in Cheshire with an aunt as a holiday, funnily enough.  As a child being sent to this person and that all the time for varying lengths, I guess I have a nomadic heart, but I have always been bought back to base as it were.  I get itchy feet, but I don’t like to stay away for long.  It is all rather difficult to explain.

But generally the longer I stay somewhere the more I will pine for my actual home, then the longer I stay in that place, the more likely I will start to pine for that, like home.  Basically going somewhere new will be difficult for around ten to fifteen days, and then I readjust and think that this new place is another home.  I have homes everywhere in my head, but none of them are actually my homes.

Shrugs* I am mad I guess?

But yes, I miss a lot of places.  I miss a few places in London – Burnt Oak, Hammersmith, Hendon, Brent Cross, Wembley, Barnet, Finchley, Whetstone, Enfield, Northolt, Kingsbury, Edgware, Portobello Road, Camden Town, Kentish Town, Swiss Cottage and Kensington.  I miss Luton (I know who misses that?  Well – me), Dunstable, Aylesbury, Leighton Buzzard, Wickford, Basildon, Margate, Crewe, Leeds, Market Drayton, Telford, Manchester, Halifax, Sheffield, Sunderland, Scarborough, Derby, Seven Sisters, Maidstone, Barnstaple, Battle and whatever that little village on the Welsh border was (I never knew I was a kid when I was there for a while) same as a small village in the Scottish Highlands too, Crawley, Radlett and Slough.  Imagine if I did have houses in all those places, I would need to be rich just for them!  It would be ridiculous to purchase houses in places like these though and selfish.  But for me there would need to be three homes in specific locations, because of how long I know I would stay in specific areas for, because to me they are too much like home.  A house somewhere in Barnet or Hammersmith & Chelsea, London; and a house somewhere in West Yorkshire or Cheshire, as well as something suburban or semi-rural around Rugby, Warwickshire.  I could stay at either of these areas until I start pining for the other, then, instead of constantly pining for places I can’t even afford to visit for the day, like I do now.

I make do with wherever I am put though.  I get on despite my pining’s.  I don’t mean to sound depressing or down-hearted, but I have got used to disappointments and discomfort, as my mother always made sure I never felt settled in any regard in life.  Therefore, she has made me resilient to change and adaptable to most hurtful and life changing situations – by making certain things happen so regularly I eventually became numb to certain types of sentimentality.  In a bad way too, in one particular thing; that I have learned that nothing is permanent, I must always expect things to change drastically and quickly, things such as people dying.  Don’t get too attached to organic things such as people or animals, because they can die.  I will mourn an animal more readily than a human, despite how much I may deeply love that human and I have always been afraid of losing Paul or Henry, because, I am not known to cry for human passing’s.  It could be because my mother was very aloof about it all when I was growing up and if I was to shed a tear she would berate me and make me feel humiliated for being sad about a person’s death.  It could also be because I am clairsentient, a strong clairvoyant.

I don’t usually talk about that part of me.  It weirds people out, but it is a true part of me.

Some people when they die can take ages to visit in the spirit world, some people don’t understand that.  There is a cleansing process for spirits when they first die, some can visit us literally within minutes of dying because they don’t have that much baggage, others can take years before they start visiting the living again.  My grandma, Dolly, took nearly nine years before she started visiting me, whereas grandad only took a few weeks.

But generally to me, luxury is comfortable natural fibre clothes, the ability to travel across the UK whenever I like without financial strain, to eat a healthy diet, to have a lot of family time, gardening organically and for wildlife on a large scale, the financial ability to fund continued learning in desired subjects, charities and pets.  That’s all I really want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Other hobbies

What do I do when I am not writing?

Quite a lot actually, because I don’t write much at all these days; I have lots of ideas for things to write but I think illness has made me lose focus and passion for it.  I was a lot more passionate about writing than I am nowadays.  It is simply because pain distracts me and makes me lose where I am heading – coughing fits and a severely runny nose are the biggest contributors for throwing me off course, yanking me out of the zone, as it were.  As I have said before in many posts, I live with a perpetual chronic cold, with ear, nose and throat infections thrown in.  It isn’t just a sniffle, I wish it were, but I can get through five hundred individual tissues on a bad day, two hundred being the norm for me.

Since the 21st December 2019 the only things I have written are what are on the blog and approximately 5000 words of non-posted works of other things, but nothing contributing to my novels.  Hand written notes of other ideas are not included in this, I am spending more and more time in bed these days as I can barely move.  All these problems are giving me severe insomnia and hypersomnia.  What do I mean by that?  Well I don’t sleep at night, I seem to sleep better during the day, for some reason my chest and sinus is worse at night.  When I do eventually sleep during the day I sleep between 7 and 16 hours in a stretch, to wake up for 2 hours in a choking fit with a dry crusted mouth.  Not a pretty visual I know.  I can go 30 to 40 hours without sleeping, purely because I am too busy clearing mucus from my system.

So it isn’t any wonder why I lack focus and concentration really.

Basically, everything I do when I am not writing, are things I can do at home, in the bedroom.  Primarily with my desktop computer, as I have recently had it moved to the bedroom due to the fact I am often too sick to get downstairs these days and I have moved my laptop downstairs for the rare occasion I am down there for more than an hour.  Because my legs swell a lot sitting at the computer desk, I can only sit here for an hour before I have to rest with legs up for thirty minutes, to get the swelling down, so even if I am on a roll, my ankles start burning and that throws me off course and I have to go and put my feet up.

I read approximately 30 to 80 pages of a book per day and about half a magazine too.  The types of things I read the most are fantasy, sci-fi and comedy fiction with a lot of non-fiction thrown in; the non-fiction I enjoy are self-help books, nutrition books, history books, theological research, mythology, folklore and cultural studies.  My current reading list is Time Song by Julia Blackburn, The Toll by Neal Shusterman and Roy Vickery’s folk flora. 

I do puzzles such as codebreakers, arrow words and gardening magazine crosswords – before my chest got too bad I used to love doing 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles, but it is frustrating having a coughing fit and losing pieces across the room all the time!

If I am not too busy fighting mucus, I get to knit, crochet, sew or practise my recorder and keyboard. 

I watch TV only if there are documentaries I am interested in, I mostly watch Smithsonian and BBC four with some Drama channel thrown in.  I will watch anything with Lucy Worsley, anything about the history of jazz, soul and classical music, nature and wildlife documentaries, documentaries about farming and country life.  I like science too, so I will watch sky at night and space science programs as well as things in the past such as time commanders, gladiators and the occasional wrestling show.  I love comedies, I only watch the comedies on the Drama Channel, but I am picky about which ones to watch.  I like only connect and some quiz and puzzle shows like Countdown, but I don’t watch them all the time.  I have to be in the mood to watch TV and before I was sick I watched around three hours of TV a week, these days it’s about two hours a day.  We never miss Michael McIntyre’s Big Show if we can help it, nor do we tend to like missing gardeners world or shows such as the RHS show, cruft’s and BBC Proms.  I’m pretty old fashioned I suppose for someone who is thirty seven.  I dislike soap operas and drama llama stuff – yes I mentioned the drama channel, but there are three hours a day where it is strictly comedy and I tend to only watch that channel (at the comedy times) or food network when there is nothing else on.  Sometimes I put on a DVD and I will often choose vampires or family animations and comedies. 

The main things I do these days are play games online.  I don’t even socialise that much online anymore, because I lose concentration and people who know me are starting to think I have memory problems.  Because a coughing fit will make me forget what I have said or what I was on about.

The online games that grip me are… Roblox, yes Henry got me onto it and to be honest, Roblox has saved my relationship with my son!  Because I find his kind of games hard to do since becoming sick – Roblox has opened a whole new world for us and we play hide and seek and various other games together.  When Henry is at school, I still sneak onto the site and play bee swarm simulator, Ripull mini games and fairy simulator.  Bee Swarm simulator especially!

Other online games I play are ovipets it is a cute breeding game on facebook and I have been addicted to that for nearly 5yrs. 

Flightrising is another breeding game, but I go in and out of phases with that.  Primarily I have played this for a whole eight months without a break, purely because Henry wants to see what dragons I breed and he loves to name them and do what we call “Dragon Lottery”.  Dragon Lottery is where I look through the offspring possibilities scrying menu to see what will happen if I pair certain dragons up, sometimes I can’t decide, so I make a list of all the best ones that go with my chosen female that day and I number them, then Henry, Paul and I will choose a number from the list and put it through random.org and sometimes someone gets the number right, in which case that person must get a treat of some kind or get to choose to do something; I breed five pairs of dragons every five days, because that is how long it takes for the eggs to hatch and we have a limit of five breeding nests on this game. 

I used to play online scrabble but I have got accused of cheating because I know too many unusual words.  I don’t cheat on that game, I don’t see what purpose that serves other than the joy of creating misery on another person who loses and I am not a vindictive person like that.  I really do have a broad vocabulary, though I rarely use it outside of scrabble and I love doing anagrams for fun, so I see a lot of seven letter words and I am a dictionary and language addict, so I know words that are weird to normal people.  Here is a list of words I know for high scoring on scrabble, which have got me accused of cheating when used previously – plus, I have read books written by scrabble champions.

ZEBU – QAT –  QUARE – SEQUIN – AWK – EUOI – AIA – QI – KIMCHI – VEX – VAV – TAV – EAU – UVEA – AEON – OXIDE – POXY – QIN – QINTAR – FATWA – QABALA – QADI – SJOE – KHAKI – EUOUAE to name but a few.  I have to admit I was shocked when SEQUIN was considered a questionable word, the others I can understand, but I was sure almost everyone knew what sequins were?

I love words and word play so much I have considered about having a word of the week thing, but I am unreliable with keeping to things like that, as you can clearly see from past efforts or lack of.

Other than sketching with pencils or sharpies in bed and/or colouring in and story planning, I don’t do much else on a bad day.  On a good day I can add about an hour of light gardening to the list but not much else anymore.

I’m pretty boring I suppose, by my peers.  I can’t even cuddle the rabbit lately because I cough too much it terrifies the poor thing!  I suppose I sound like some big barking bear or something to the poor creature.

I have gone out to the doctors and walked past dogs when I am like this and the dogs think I am barking at them, they react accordingly, it is embarrassing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Money free world

Money’s a problem all over the world

It’s a simple solution and not in a dream world

It used to be reality, for everyone around

But men fell in love with shiny rocks in the ground

It’s a funny old thing, love, but it does astound

We all have to have currency, the shiny tokens of gold

It’s to help everyone, or so I am told

But I just see greed and exploitation

Unfairness and hunger and lots of discrimination

It shouldn’t be like this, in a human world

We are smarter than this, our minds have been swirled

I have heard of a time where everything was free

Money is an illusion, you just can’t see

Warmth, food, water and a place to call home

Are all basic needs which everyone should own

You can’t put a price on good quality of life

So why has humanity invented this strife?

It’s a puzzle, it really is

I hope we’ll soon all work out the quiz

But suffering world over would end in a jiffy

If everyone thought that money was whiffy

Everyone all living a life they deserve

With food, warmth and water, what a learning curve

Imagine how far we could all progress if price wasn’t an issue we always had to address?

Money is a barrier in this modern world

Money needs to go now, a new system should unfurl

A system of voluntary work and good will

A system where people go to work still

But system where freedom is always a choice

A system where people in their lives could rejoice

A system with a world united where barriers should fade

A system where teamwork is always displayed

Yes there will be some who won’t do their share

But society is good at not keeping people there

People are good at motivating the herd

People who are lazy would be considered absurd

Even the sickest has their worth

But whilst there is still money, plenty resent their birth

It is a horrible fact, but it is quite true, whilst money is still around

It’s imprisoning you

Not just you but all of mankind

Money is very, very, unkind

Imagine your life without money there, what would you do?  What would be your cares?

How would you live?  Who would you help?

Please do think about this, it might self help

It will open your mind to what you can become

I wish more people thought that money was dumb

This poem was written quickly, I know it can come across a little uncomprehending but it was written at 5:45am on a cold foggy, frosty January morning and I have a bad chest infection and I tend to think about too many points at once and my brain gets scrambled at the best of times – but this is an important message I think.  One that really should be shouted as loud as climate change awareness, because I think, if money was eliminated and people worked together in teams and progressed without the need of money incentives, things like climate change would reserve rapidly – the cure for cancer found – the ability to terraform Mars would have already been done and so many other things.

I mean come on, think about it – do you really need the incentive of a few shiny coins a month to make you make this world a better place?  Do you really need the incentive of earning little fake tokens of your supposed value in the world in order to give you the life you want and deserve?  It is a belief system that you do need these tokens as an incentive to go to a job you hate, being stuck in situations you hate, that have you enslaved, slavery is never ever truly over, until the fat cats decide to change it.  Though how many fat cats are there in comparison to the slim?  I am talking money here not the supposed “obesity crisis”.  I have always struggled with the concept that I can’t do this, I can’t do that, basic little things that most people in the Western World take for granted, because of lack of money.  I have never ever had the ability to be extravagant – I can tell you what I think the most extravagant thing I have ever done financially has been outside of special occasions – bought, shock and horror a book that cost me £25 that to me is an extravagance!

I have never had the ability to afford to get my hair done at the hairdressers when I became an independent adult, living away from my parents, I cut my hair myself!

There are so many things that would change in my life, if money was removed from the social system.

I have been told several times by many doctors that they can treat my problems, it is easily treatable with basic surgery, however, it is too expensive for a struggling NHS right now, so therefore, until the illness infringes my life to the point it becomes life threatening, they will not help me.  Money, I am afraid to say, does determine how moral and humane a doctor will be and from my experience, it means that money makes them carefree, it makes them monsters; not just them, but everyone, people kill for money for fucks sake!

People need to learn that money is evil.  Yes, money saves lives and all of that too, but that is just an illusion – really many people would never have got to the extent of needing charitable donations if it weren’t for the problem that money exists in their world.  Most people’s relationships are affected by six core things; money tops it the other four things are, lying, political and sport debates, religious differences and general discrimination (racism, disability discriminate, age discrimination, fashion critics etc.) – people argue about those six core things a lot and that usually determines how well you get along with a person or not.  Money being the biggest factor because not only do families argue about the lack of it or the want of it, but people generally avoid creating relationships with new people in case they might become their victim in some way financially.  People become more uptight socially if they are wearing expensive clothing and have the latest mobile, than those who are poorer in the community towards strangers socially approaching them. 

People also judge you by your supposed wealth or lack of wealth.  I have been in situations of worse poverty than I have now and the general public; do treat you differently, either with sympathy or with contempt, especially if you are known to be unemployed due to chronic illness.  I have also been in a situation where I have been considered quite wealthy (though the money was never mine, I was dependent upon someone for a time) and again, society treated me differently.  I became more human the more I showed to others that I might actually be better off than them and I have had friends who are super rich or of celebrity status tell me that it gets worse the more you have, you become almost godlike and infallible and this particular person who told me this said that she hated it, because she just wanted to be recognised as plain old normal Sue; she adored me because I never treated her or anyone else any differently to anyone else.  I won’t tell you her whole name because I don’t like name dropping.  But I will say she is a very respected and talented British celebrity. 

Going back to complaining about the doctors again; When I have been too sick to dress properly or fuss over my hair, I get treated like a piece of fermented meat in which the doctor is even reluctant to physically examine.  I am clean, but I wear a baggy grey jumper and black leggings those days with trainers and my hair is in a messy bun. 

I go back to the same doctor a few months later after coming from a funeral in a dress suit with the same messy bun might I add and they treated me as though I had a brain and they spent ten more minutes with me than usual and examined me thoroughly.  Why the snobbery?  Same patient, same doctor, different clothes and class appearance!

I am going to number and list everything I can’t have because of my financial situation – then I am going to number and list what I would do and have in a world without money.

  1. I can’t have an operation to remove unusually large adenoids which makes me long-term unable to breathe through my nose and smell, it also causes severe post nasal drip and breathing problems, it affects my voice and larynx and I get throat infections 8 times a year and living with constantly ear infections due to Eustachian tube blockages purely because of the adenoids. Because of this, I have severe insomnia and hypersomnia, depends on how much my body will let me sleep before I literally wake choking on the entire gunk in my body, this has gone on nearly eight years now.  One of the biggest factors of why I cannot work, because it affects my breathing, my voice and my hearing levels.  I also live with vertigo because of sinus and ear pressure and almost constant sinus migraines.  Because of the amount of antibiotics I need, I have been developing antibiotic resistance and my digestive system is collapsing as it is affecting my gut flora.  As an added bonus because of my health problems, I am self-conscious going out, because I have been accused of infecting everyone, because I come across as having perpetual flu like symptoms, cough and cold.  It is especially difficult to go out since this new Chinese virus is going around.
  2. I can’t have an operation to stretch my tendons in my left hand which renders three of my fingers almost immobile due to how tight they are, despite how twisted my fingers are that when I fall down I am constantly at risk of breaking my hand.
  3. I can’t afford to get rid of old furniture and broken televisions, computers, cookers and washing machines via a skip, so have to store them in a corner in the garden and I hate that, because I am extremely house proud and as far as the neighbours are concerned by our back garden, we must be pack rats in the house, the nasty hoarding sort – but we’re not. We don’t have a car or anyone who has a car who would be willing to help for a day.
  4. I can’t afford to get my son to socialise outside of school, because I can’t buy him the rugby kit he wants and I can’t afford the membership for the marathon club. Though there is light at the end of the tunnel for his marathon club, Henry has been seen doing so well at free running events around town that we have been told as soon as he is 10yrs old (which is May 2020) he will be eligible for sponsoring and free membership!
  5. I can’t have a balanced diet which meets my needs; even the food bank struggles with someone like me – gluten and lactose intolerant with a few other allergies thrown in like certain herbs and fruit allergies. At least once a week I have to consider eating something I am intolerant to, because our budget can’t stretch for the whole week.  It’s either that or having an entire day of just meat and potatoes with hardly any or no veg and maybe some sauce.  When money was better 2yrs ago I was having an 80% paleo diet and my health bloomed, I had more good days than not.  But when the government cut that evil thing – money, I had to cut the food and my body isn’t responding well to that.
  6. I can’t afford a fish tank and supplies, a dog or some chickens.
  7. I can’t afford certain gardening tools and supplies which will help me grow more food.
  8. I can’t afford to get a gardener to help me when I am on a run of bad health. I regularly get bed bound sick where I can’t do anything for 6 to 8 weeks at a time, by that time, my garden is ruined when I get back to it, by aggressive bindweed.  The bindweed in my garden are triffids – I was ill for 9 weeks last summer and it managed to pull down and break an entire 7ft cherry tree I had put in.
  9. My husband knows I need to get out more and see the doctor a lot more than I do, but I don’t go to see him more than once a month (though it is essential) because it costs us £12 a time in transport. Therefore, we can’t afford a car and we can’t afford to pay for me to go out, so unless I can walk somewhere, I can’t go out, so I am even more isolated now.  I am also not eligible for a disability scooter for free, because my problems are not mobile, it is mostly breathing problems due to enlarged adenoids so they don’t take that seriously at all mobility.
  10. I am struggling to be able to pay for the amount of tissues and symptom relief things I need. Such as throat lozenges, vic rub, Vaseline, sanitary towels because my coughing fits have weakened my bladder severely.
  11. I have lost a lot of weight since becoming very ill, losing weight because coughing fits have made me become involuntarily bulimic and with the lack of affordable food I can eat which fits into my dietary needs, it is hard. I have lost nearly 50 pounds in the past four months and I can’t afford to get smaller clothes, so I am wearing clothes that are ridiculously big on me.  I know there is gumtree and all of that, but really it is hard to travel to pick things up and the women getting rid of their clothes don’t like the idea of a man (my husband) picking it up for me without me present, tried.
  12. I need a wig because my trichotillomania has got worse, but I have to make do without one and tolerate the whispers behind my back when out.
  13. My bed is broken and needs to be replaced because the frame broke when Henry jumped and pulled on it last summer. I can’t afford it, so we are literally trying to hold it all together with planks of wood and gorilla tape.
  14. We’ve lived with a leaky roof in our biggest bedroom for eight years now, we can’t have the roof fixed that would be 4k, heavy rains with a northerly wind causes havoc. Also our utility room roof has caved in too.
  15. Our toilet is coming away at the wall, again we’ve had to resort to gorilla tape and sealant to try and make do until we can afford to replace that too.
  16. Henry needs new clothes too, he is growing fast, but he has my problem at the moment too – having to wear clothes too big, because he is wearing his father’s hand me downs to keep him warm this winter. Thankfully Paul is a stick and is the smallest man’s size in clothing and doubly thankful that Henry is taller than most for his age. 
  17. Our sofa is broken and that needs replacing, we don’t sit downstairs anymore because of it. Also because it is winter and we had our gas fire taken out and gas supply to the fireplace removed because it was unsafe four years ago, so we have no heating in the living room except for an electric fan heater and we can’t afford to use that more than an hour a day.  We put it on whilst we eat our dinner, we don’t eat dinner in the dining room anymore because that is even colder than the living room.
  18. I can’t afford my psoriasis shampoo and wash, so have to tolerate discomfort as the NHS has refused to prescribe me again for more, told me to buy it for myself if I need it. Also they don’t fix hearing aids in our hospital anymore; I have to go to boots, so I have a malfunctioned hearing aid now, which means I am completely deaf a lot of the time. 

Surprising isn’t it?  This is England.  This is the 21st century.  Bet you didn’t know people like me still live like that?  The funniest thing is, I am one of the better off ones – one of the least poor, there are others worse than me, I have known them.  If you think my situation is shocking, honestly, you are a very sheltered person who needs to get to know others outside of your social circle a bit better.  I have known people so poor, that despite sugar tax, it is cheaper for them to get more calories into their child with a packet of haribo sweets than to cook them a veggie dinner.   I am not that poor yet and thankfully Henry has manageable allergies.  My Henry does however, live on sausages, mash, cucumber, carrots and baked beans more often than I would like, but that is the cheapest food I can get him that he is guaranteed to eat in full.  Some of the nation’s poorest can’t even afford to give their kids beans on toast, so I really can’t moan that much I suppose!

I am not poor enough in the eyes of the government to need charity help or help from the council, because we own our home outright and therefore we must fix things ourselves.  We’ve been told that if things are so bad, why not sell up and rent?  Because our money will only last five years, I would lose benefits and security in one fair swoop and we have no means to pay the rent, it’s unlikely that I will ever get well enough to have a proper job and Paul retires in three years.

In a world of no money my life would be bearable, it would be happier, it would be easier and our needs would be met; because people are more humane to those in need when they are equal to them.

Here is my no money list.

  1. Even though I am sick, in a world of no money I would have to contribute to society like everyone else.  But society would be more understanding that not everyone can cope with long hours and hard labour.  I would help places grow food or advise people on gardening for food, even on my sickest days I could sit on the internet on live chat, helping some gardening in need with various issues.
  2. I can help the world with aesthetics, by giving people my artwork to decorate their homes with, giving people my poetry and stories in books for them to enjoy. I could even get a group of actors together and we can make plays and movies based on my ideas.
  3. I would go to a workshop on my good days and help teach people how to make preserves, jams, chutneys, allergy free cakes and breads.
  4. I could do motivational talks.
  5. I can help sew and repair local peoples clothing from home, if they deliver.
  6. I can teach people about which flowers are edible, to help broaden peoples diet.
  7. I can do the occasional arts and craft workshop to help people recycle and upcycle things.
  8. I can help people learn French.
  9. I am a good massager and manicurist.
  10. I am very good with people who are suicidal or going through a dark time. I have had several people say that if it weren’t for me they wouldn’t be around anymore.  I have often thought about becoming a therapist, but in the last five years it is debatable whether or not I will be a hearing person in the future or not.  In fact, I have been told to prepare myself for becoming profoundly deaf to becoming totally deaf with a deaf dog support.  So I gave up my course as soon as I heard this.
  11. All my household problems would be solved, no dangerous stuff, more respect from neighbours and warm living room that is comfortable.
  12. I would be able to live the diet that is optimal for me as an individual.
  13. My operations would have been done before my health got this far and I would probably be able to do more things than what I listed above.
  14. We would have an electric car.
  15. We would have a dog, a full fish tank and some chickens in the garden.
  16. We would have tools for the garden and help in the garden.
  17. I would be able to wear appropriate clothes and so would Henry.
  18. We would have a safe bed.
  19. I would probably need to apply for a house extension so I could have an extra room to use as a library.
  20. I would be able to get out more.
  21. I would shave my hair off entirely and get a wig, so I learn to stop pulling.
  22. I’d go to the cinema once a week.
  23. We’d go for a pub family meal on Sundays like we used to.
  24. I’d take Henry to the big televised rugby matches.
  25. I’d adopt four kids and concentrate on getting my body healthier, rather than push my body to get that second child I want.
  26. We’d go out on a big family day out once a month at least – a zoo, a museum, a steam train ride, a bowling day out etc.
  27. Because a world without money would be more cooperative and free, I would be free to lend my services to certain people. I would be able to assist the local elderly, cook for them, visit them to keep them socialising, take them out, play games with the playful ones, and do the same for the severely disabled. 

It is all just hearsay I know.  I am down to earth enough to realise that I may still be struggling day to day with my own needs, like I am today.  But even in a world of no money, I could manage to help society from home, in my bed with online talks.  I could go out for one half day a week doing any of those things above and still be a worthy member of society who does her bit.  Basically, I would have a better life than I do now.  But because of my current needs, ESA will not tolerate someone who can do half a day of something, without pulling the carpet from under them and saying “well in that case you can work, we will take your money from you henceforth”.  They don’t care that my illness is such that I can go out for one half day a week, but I will be bedbound for four days after it and so therefore will not function around my own home – that to them, doesn’t matter.  What matters is getting me off benefits at any cost!

I am saying, in a world of no money, I can volunteer to be present outside of the home every 4 to 7days, if society tolerates someone who has a permanent streaming nose and allergies when she does it – I often feel that people recoil from me a lot when I am out about and this leads to me thinking things such as “Well why not just euthanize me now, then?”.

I burden too many people with my presence, they make it all too obvious and people who work in benefits don’t help matters!

Money is evil, it makes us heartless.

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Filed under Opinions and beliefs

Remorseless vampire

I am standing in the dark, drenched in blood from head to toe

I have killed him, the man on the floor

Tomorrow his family and friends will be filled with woe

Am I remorseful?  No I am not

As far as I am concerned, there he will lay and there he will rot

I have no heart within old me

I have drunk his blood, can’t you see?

Why should I care when he is many?

I need food as good as any

Be it him or be it you, I need blood, to me that is nothing new

Tomorrow I will feast again and the next day until I don’t know when

But I am a vampire, it is plain to see

So it is best if you kept your distance from me

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Filed under Poems P - R

Not a poem, food food thought

The world is a confusing place.

Everyone wants acceptance and yet they all criticise others.

Everyone wants peace of mind and yet they will still hold grudges and set themselves up for failure or arguments.

Some people want a better life, yet instead of trying to find a way to make their lives better they would rather end it instead.

It is easier to hate than to love for many.

It is easier to ignore than to question.

Everybody wants a better world but no one is ready for the effort and strife to make it better.

A single person has a lot of power, yet they choose not to use it, because they have no time, energy, health, they have other commitments – so they sit and watch TV or play online games for three hours without fail every evening; instead of doing something constructive that will either improve their lives, the lives of their family members, a sad friend or their environment, it is strange, but true.  They would rather poison their bodies with junk food, alcohol and drugs, than spend that extra fifteen minutes in the kitchen to make something healthier for them, something that will prolong their life and give them better mobility or health.

A lot of people would rather not see that they are doing this because then that would mean that they have admitted to being a failure in some way; they can’t pass the buck, they can’t blame anyone but themselves if they realise and admit it.  People can’t stand being wrong or thinking that they are more ignorant than they know.

People would rather walk out in difficult situations rather than solve them, they would rather break up or divorce someone than work it out – because of the time and energy and self-satisfaction factor.  If you want a relationship you need to look first at how much you get along with the person in a non-romantic setting, are you good friends?  Then you have to question whether or not you both have the same life goals, morals and ethics, then after these things are established and known, you should have a relationship together and once in that relationship it should be easy to focus each other on remaining with each other, supporting each other as friends, working things out like a team – not abandoning ship.  If you feel you are a person who cannot be strictly monogamous for goodness sake be honest about it before you let someone get too deep with you – the world is more liberal than you think!

People have got to start becoming more open with the people who are involved in their lives.  They have to work together, work things out, they have to get out of the habit of this throw away culture – because people are treating other people like material possessions too much – this will eventually lead to us all losing our humanity, it is bad enough as it is with the millennial generations mobile device addiction, let alone allowing ourselves to continue how we’ve always been.

Humanity needs to concentrate very deeply on their psychology, on the way that they think, how they handle things.  No more should people just simply walk away when the going gets tough, because that will never solve anything and will only poison your spiritual environment more and more, attracting more negativity to you.

We are probably the loneliest generations ever known to human earth.  More and more we are cutting ourselves off from others.  It was said once that the average human was close to 120 people at all times with around 1000 known acquaintances – but recently that figure has dropped to a contemporary socialite having only 26 close contacts and around 300 acquaintances – online people you have never met do not count – if it did, I would be extremely gregarious!

Fifty years ago it would be normal if a friend knew you were sick and lived in the same street, to come and visit you and make sure you didn’t need any help and would make a fuss about helping you even if you didn’t want it – these days, they could care less.  So long as visit and visiting is exactly 50/50 split, like tennis, taking turns one after the other, they couldn’t be bothered to come and see how you are – even family life is becoming like this.  I have never liked the concept of a nuclear family, I always wanted to have a lot of children, but ill-health dictated that to me as well.  I do not like it, I would love nothing better than to have around five children and a little organic smallholding in a suburban place somewhere as I can’t do strict rural again.

I’m really very lucky at growing vegetables in particular, they seem to yield more than average for their type and are always bigger than expected, I have often been told I should attend vegetable shows, but I would feel silly doing that, sometimes people in those contests get a bit daft.  Now if I was to show anything, it would be dogs and guinea pigs, I would love to do that eventually.

The purpose of this post and like many more to come is to broaden your mind and help you see how you can try to have a better and happier life.  I am going to stop writing more to this now as I have noticed I am losing focus and it is 5am when I am writing this on 19th January 2020.  I will schedule this for later in the week, because I have a lot of things going on at the moment.  I am not yet over the pneumonia though I feel better today, but in the next few days I have several medical appointments to get to as well as an ESA medical and another minor operation (not sure they’d entertain that if they know I have a chest infection, it has been cancelled 6 times before because of serious sinus, throat and chest infections, it takes 6 months each time to get a new appointment).

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Filed under Brain Drain & Dribbles

Phantoms of the sea

We hear echoes in the dark like night

But it is daylight outside right now

We are in a mouldy damp place

Shadowed with stones around

Every footstep is like a heartbeat

Every movement a rustle like many leaves

Everything is black and wet

This is a home for us thieves

We are scurvy vagabonds

Fresh from the sea

This is our hiding place

It’s not nice, but it keeps us free

We do not wander in the daylight hours

We sit and wait till dark

Then once everyone is tucked in bed

A commandeered new ship we’ll embark

We keep this way forever

We are the pirate ghosts

Though some say we look fresh and alive

If I said I had flesh I’d boast

We’re not like what we used to be

What we are I really don’t know

But we don’t have mortal concerns and we have far to go

So maybe we will see you on the shores of some sea town

But it is likely if we see you, you will surely drown

What we are, I cannot tell

But we won’t be looked on at all

If you see us, by perchance

We will take you to Poseidon’s ball

Some may even call it Hell

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Filed under Poems P - R

Depressing rhymes and therapy

WARNING – This post is extremely long and contains graphic descriptions of my past – sorry, it is approximately 5k words.  (For my stalkers, would you like me to send you a copy in the post so you can really scan and tear it apart in venomous discussions with your cronies or are you OK for now?  Joke, get a life, don’t read this if you are easily upset.)

It may seem strange and a little deceptive, but some of my depressing prose, rhyme, songs, poetry etc. are not actually based on my current states of mind, some are, but most aren’t.  They are memories of various people and sometimes even empathy with people who have loved as deeply as me; I in this particular week have heard several friends online tell me that their relatives, friends or spouses are dying, just died or broken with them – I mean a lot of people in just one week and this has made me remember my darkest feelings when I have lost someone I have loved either because of a life choice or because of the non-choice of their life suddenly ending.

I can very easily slip back into old frames of mind, by simply focusing, remembering and being empathic.  I am a very strong empath and I soak up the energies of my atmosphere like a sponge, if the people around me are happy, I am relaxed and happy too, if just one person becomes negative I feel it like a brick hitting me and it saps me and if you are close to me, you notice that when I go quiet it is not a good thing, that it is affecting me in some way deeply.  I have always been this way, I have always been a sensitive person like that, but I have always been a cunning person (according to my mother), by that I mean I have always managed to come across as unaffected or even cold, it is hard to read me until I get too much of it, then I explode like a bomb and become a wreck for a while and it always takes person who know me by surprise – they haven’t learned yet that this is my way and I can’t help it.  I think it has a lot to do with how my mother raised me, because she was always encouraging me to hide my opinions and emotions from others, saying that I must never let anyone see my weak side, must never talk about my weaknesses – but that’s a problem too, because I am a person who after a while, will start to talk about my problems as a means to solve those problems and act as a sort of therapy for myself too.  If I am uncomfortable with something or someone, I will tolerate it a long time before I voice it, when I voice it, it is purely to try and come to some sort of compromise with each other, not to upset the other person at all.  I always want to solve issues before they get too big for me, but a lot of people think that when I do this, it is a big insult on who they are.  Seriously it is not, I am way too liberal and cooperative to be vindictive and critical.

Where is this post heading exactly?

I originally made this blog to act as a therapy for coping with my past.  Unfortunately a relative or two found the website and spoke to the people of whom I mention and it caused a big extensive family upset, because I had never in my life, voiced out loud my problems to anyone until literally, it was too much for me to take anymore.  To think I took twenty nine years of emotional suppression within a malevolent coercive relationship where I was controlled by four people in particular in my life who are part of my extended family – people who quite literally had mini meetings about me and how to handle me and what they should do with me and what they should make me do, half of the time I was never invited to these meetings.

Some days I would wake up to find my mother giving me that look which tells me that my life and my life schedule has changed yet again or I was about to lose something.  Things such as, Tina I want you to drop out of your college course again because we have decided that you should do this instead or that instead.  Tina we have decided to send your new puppy to the rescue centre because it looks at me funny, or you happen to have the flu for two weeks now, we can’t look after it, you promised, so we are getting rid of it TODAY!  The amount of times we had pets less than a month or two, I didn’t realise until I moved out that it was because certain relatives would only visit around once every 6 to 8 weeks, so they never got to see the new member of our family.  Sometimes she would decide that I would leave a job, simply phone the boss right now and say you are never coming back, no notice. 

Some mornings I would wake up and there would be a different look in her eye, a mischievous look, I hated those more, they were very unpredictable days.  I would find that I would be the butt of a lot of jokes, the entertainment for the evening with her friends or some relatives, or victim of some nasty trick which plays on my fears – such as, I used to have severe clown phobia, she bought me a porcelain clown, black with silver stars all over it and a star patch over its eye, she knew I was affected by many horror movies which had evil clowns in them – so she would tell me she had seen shadows and things around the house all day and things have been unnerving her and how she felt watched and keeps hearing movements upstairs.  I was always bad tempered with these silly little things she came out with, because I never really knew where she was going with this.  So I would march upstairs in a bad mood to find that my unwanted clown ornament was sitting at the bottom of the bed, arranged in a position which would make it stare directly at whoever walked into the room – with two new clown toys either side it, those were more malevolent looking than the ornament.  She would sneakily follow behind me, I stood in the door looking at these unwanted clowns, knowing it was some dumb trick, but then she would go one step further and grab me from behind and push me into the room with them, shutting the door firm behind me.  Little did I know at the time that one of the clowns actually was radio controlled to laugh evilly?  It was very sudden and scary.  I could hear nothing but the clown laughing its head off as well as my mother.

My mother’s type of Munchausen was mostly mental health conditions, skin conditions and ear conditions.  She ignored most other conditions if they were outside of this niche she wanted for me.  For some reason or another she always encouraged an eating disorder, she encouraged from the age of seven to be paranoid about my weight, sending me to weight watchers, against their rules, but she talked them into letting me go and take part.  I would be put on very tightly monitored crashed diets and then made to stop, then she would over feed me and made sure I got bigger every time, then she would put me on a diet again and this continued into my late twenties.  Feast or famine kind of life, the damage she did to my digestive system was immense and I am paying for it big time today, my colon and immune system is in a right mess with what she has done.  She used to roughly clean my ears and dip my head into the bath to get my ears wet, despite doctors from the age of five telling her not to do this as I had terrible glue ear.  I was diagnosed age seven as having lactose intolerance and a suspicion of other intolerance, but mum ignored this and never altered my diet to help me.  The amount of times growing up I would have severe night-time diarrhoea that would make me exhausted the next day, teeth chattering pain and ice cold shivers whilst on the toilet, stomach in cramps, fighting not to vomit on my mums pink bathroom rugs.  She would tell other people that I was up all night worrying about the next day for whatever reason and keeping her up and that all of this is simply down to psychosomatic reasons because I didn’t want to do something or go somewhere and I worked myself up into a frenzy about it – the amount of people who believed her too!  By the time I was eleven she had convinced the world and even my-self that I had some sort of severe social phobia, but I always knew deep down I didn’t.  I had to play along with her game because the alternative was horrible.

I developed dandruff and mum made such a big thing about it that she was determined I had some kind of horrendous fungus infection the doctor didn’t seem to know about.  She bought a nit comb and would often scrape my scalp sore, weeping and bleeding to get it off me and gave me all sorts of age inappropriate medicated shampoos.  I had severe skin infections in large masses with huge weeping oily sores all over my head most of the time growing up and even as an adult for a time, one time was so bad it developed into a huge bald patch.  She would only let me wash or bath once a week too, until I made her change this when I was fourteen and was getting self-conscious around my cousins and family friends children.  She agreed only because people started to talk about how I lacked personally pride and this embarrassed her.

I didn’t realise until my late teens that I was dressing inappropriately either, around the house when guests arrived.  Mum made it normal for me to parade around the house whenever in a chemise day and night if I wanted to, even garden in it in the summer, even if we were an overlooked garden in North London, primarily as it saved on the washing.  I had no idea until I first moved out aged twenty that it was all completely shocking behaviour and that I simply shouldn’t dress certain ways at certain times even within my own home, especially with guests or overlooking neighbours.  I didn’t even know until then about personal private hygiene either, I had to be taught by my ex-boyfriend, he had to teach me so much, like how to turn an oven on and how to wash and iron clothes, because my mother never taught me.  She gave me chores yes, lots of them, but clothes washing and putting on the oven were never a priority, yet I was taught how to cook, but she always turned it on for me and chose the number and did the timer.  When this particular ex couldn’t cope with how sheltered my life had been, he sent me back to live with her because he knew I wasn’t ready to live life on my own just yet.

When I reluctantly moved back in with her, I had a break-down that lasted for around ten months and I didn’t leave the house for nearly seven months.  I think it wasn’t so much that he dumped me, it was that he sent me back there, to her, when I thought I was free.  I tried to get away again aged twenty four, but that person was very different to how I think about life and how it should be.  I didn’t get away again until Paul came into my life when I was twenty seven, by that time; things were getting worse for me.  Because as I would start introducing new things in my life, to get a life and becoming more determined to have a job to actually keep, she felt she was losing more control over me and this made her become very irrational about a lot of things and she started to become a physical threat.

Constantly causing accidents to happen around me where I would get hurt and if I disputed this with her, she would insist it was an accident and how foolish I am to constantly walk into the cupboard door as she opens it, do I have eyes?  Or am I blind?  I remember she had two BBQ grills once, one was cooked on and the other was still cold waiting to be cooked on later.  She told me she had changed her mind about the other one being used as there was plenty of food and not everyone turned up that day, so she said to me, Tina take the coal out of the BBQ for me and put it back into the bag, after she said this to me she whispered something to her friend and nodded with a smirk, I thought nothing of it until I was shocked with burning pain in my hands, then she laughed and said to her friend, there you are see, told you she would!  They laughed too.  I could never understand how many evil people my mum found to collaborate with.  Some were very lovely and were like family to me, but others were like witches, literally.  I wasn’t taken to a doctor or a hospital with my burns, both palms were entirely blistered, she wouldn’t get me any soothing creams at all, her only comfort for me with my burning blistered hands was to run them under the cold water for a couple of minutes.  When that wasn’t working for me, she reluctantly and lazily got me a bucket of ice to put my hands in, they were not getting better and I had to sleep hanging over my bed that night with my hands in that bucket of ice water in a heatwave of 30c, she wouldn’t help get me more ice during the night to top up, I had to get it myself.

As much as no one believes me now, who knows my mum; she often would call me over to kneel in front of her when she was on a corded phone if an ashtray wasn’t around, I had to hold the fag for her and let her drop the ash into my palms, sometimes it would burn, sometimes it didn’t then when she finished her fag she would drop it into her tea cup and signal for me to wash the cup out and get her another tea quickly, because she would want another fag in less than ten minutes again.  My mother is the sort of person who can drink three cups of tea an hour and smoke every ten to fifteen minutes, she gave up smoking just two years before I moved out.

I have been threatened with defamation for telling these truths, because there are people who simply can’t imagine my mother being like that, because they have never experienced this side of her.  One of these people happens to be a sibling of mine who is fourteen years older than me and lived an almost jet setter life from the age of nineteen.  Mum changed a lot around a year after we moved to Hendon, when I was just about to turn seven.

Up until I became seven, she was a normal sweet mother and I really wanted to be like her when I grew up, smoking and all.  But when things started to change by the time I was thirteen I really wanted to try so hard to avoid being the slightest bit like her.  I don’t smoke, I don’t drink like a fish from Friday till Sunday mornings, I don’t go on wild parties, I don’t send my children across the country to various relatives for 4 months of the year in dribs and drabs because I can’t be bothered with them, I don’t criticise my child endlessly and try to shape him into the image I want him to be, I don’t eat McDonald’s four times a week, I don’t constantly sniff, I don’t like starting arguments or drink endless cups of tea or try to upset neighbours or hit and throw out my child because he was open about being gay or loving a black person – I am not like her at all!

I remember one of my brothers once joked to see her reaction that he had got a black woman pregnant and he has to marry her.  I am not exaggerating when I said she didn’t just hit him, she literally beat him up like she was in the WWF (former name of WWE), he was curled in a ball in the hall floor begging her to stop because it was a joke, which just made her madder.

My brother often had fights with other guys after nights out, he had a bruise or two afterwards, but he was like he had survived a car crash when mum had finished with him that night.

I even remember mum telling me stories about how she deliberately arranged to break my dad’s leg to stop him from going into the Falklands too.  Though when this is bought up the story changes slightly all the time, it is one of these Chinese whisper rumours that goes on in my family, it is always different when it’s retold and if challenged by anyone who was horrified by the story – of course it never happened, whoever bought it up is a liar, that’s what they usually say!

My mother is relentless and tireless in her control of everybody’s lives, some people are too trapped in reverie to realise how much she controls their lives and their observations and reality, so they never really know or feel that she is coercing them in so many things.  It is so weird how so many people can live their life so blind all the time.  She gets them by being a very generous person who is a pillar of strength for them when they are both mentally and financially in need.  I have noticed a lot of the good friends who are kind and relatives who are kind are those who are disabled, formerly homeless, lonely, or were ex suicidal people, people who usually feel they owe everything to my mother because my mother had gave them a home, gave them a chance, gave them money, pulled them together when they were hospitalised and cleaned their homes for them without asking for anything in return.  It is difficult to get people to believe you about your problems with a person when the person in question seems like an angel to a lot of others.

I have been around a lot of unsavoury people from a very young age.  People that was always risky to be in the room with as a child; ex-convicts, drug addicts, drunks, violent people and those with violent brain degenerative diseases like aggressive personality changes due to dementia and Alzheimer’s.  I have even been babysat by said people.  One or two of them were not as good as they promised to be to my mum but mum always felt it was too much bother to handle the situation because she needed anyone to babysit me at the time.  Not all of them were family, some people were hardly known even by my mother.  I even remember once she was so desperate she promised to pay the electric bill of an impoverished neighbour who had a drunk wife beating husband and five kids, I stayed with them for the night and for them it was a normal night but for me it was a horror story.  Their dad came home drunk and beating his wife by eleven and I had to just get used to the fact that I had to stay there until morning.  When I told mum about this, she attacked the poor woman about how much this woman promised I wouldn’t see that kind of behaviour but a man like that is unpredictable, mum should have known better because she was raised with a father like that herself.

I can’t stop my therapy; I need to move on with my life.  I can’t be done for defamation because it is all true and I do have solid proof that certain things did indeed happen, despite how my brother wishes it didn’t.  My solid proof are minutes and papers from social services and a variety of charities which helped me from the age of ten to sixteen, I have doctors reports I can summon up at any time to give papers about how violent my mother had been to various members of staff, I have an aunt who will vouch for the violent outburst mum had too.  I just have too much to prove and I can prove it.

The thing is, if this goes further and I do indeed find myself in the court for defamation, I will win because of these minutes and reports and not only that, the person in question would do my mother no favours because there is a lot more I will never voice because she will surely go to jail with huge fines if it was revealed and at her age and current state of health that wouldn’t be nice for her.  But then again the person who threatened me with defamation was warned seven years ago that mum was too mentally fragile to know about this blog and the truth being revealed and that she was already suicidal herself about her health problems and they didn’t care enough about her then, they still told her, so I guess they won’t care this time around either!

You can only see how much weight mum has put on since she was told the truth is out, my mum eats when she is scared and only scared, I received an unwanted photograph of my mother a few weeks ago from someone online and I couldn’t believe my eyes about how big she has got. It tells me everything.  I didn’t want to scare her; I didn’t want her to know about me revealing things, because to be honest, I didn’t want to be the one who got blamed for killing her.  Because I still remember the sweet mum I had before we moved to Hendon and I still remember the good times we had, my childhood wasn’t completely horrible, there were good times even if it was always tainted with a bad ending at the end of the day. 

But I cannot sit back and let people believe that my childhood was great, that I was spoiled that I have mental health problems of the kind she claims I have. 

I do have severe mental problems but they are not the kind she tells people.  I have manic depression where I go into bouts of laughing and being happy and then going suicidal, I have post-traumatic stress syndrome, trichotillomania and self-harming issues, I still retain her trained into me feast or famine habits two sided eating disorder, starve for a month and feast for a month thing, mild dissociative disorder (where my personality changes, it has been suggested I have more than one personality, but I never had this dealt with by a therapist and it was hard for them as I never had different names for my different shifts of personality and they felt my personality was shifting a lot, purely because I didn’t have a chance to grow up and define my-self freely) my dissociative problems also cause me to forget the body I am in; make me think that I am in a healthier body and I try and do things and end up having accidents or fainting as the body can’t cope with what I am trying to do, I often have these flashes where I am some kind of super healthy and fit athlete and I try to work out and collapse within ten minutes as my shell is really suffering from more than one auto-immune problem.

Because of my varied types of guardians growing up, I have a strong chav come wigger side (excuse the expression I have no idea how to describe that), I tend to put my hair in dreadlocks during those times and write rap songs and hang around beatboxers and wear chav style clothes and big brash gold jewellery and black hats, a middle class side which is probably my most normal personality socially and my most used; and then there is  an extremely aristocratic side where I can’t tolerate inconsistencies in language and etiquette and I yearn for renaissance parties or larping.   Also as my father’s family are very Victorian in their manner and speech, I have a Victorian side and my speech can seem almost two hundred years outdated very easily, this is more seen in my writing than my vocalisation though often when speaking, a lot of my contemporaries struggle with my language usage and voice change. 

I also have a very aggressive side which only comes out if I am soaking up too much aggression around me and if I feel physically threatened, I was never told what this kind of mental illness is called but if someone physically attacks me (and they have done so a lot in my past) I get dizzy, my eyes seem to fill up with blood and I go blind and I snap out of it several minutes later to find out that I have hurt my attacker badly or I have been restrained before any damage was done, this has only ever happened four times in my life.

I must also admit – I don’t realise that my voice changes between personalities.  But I have recorded myself various times and I can do accents and different class styles very easily, I have been told by a friend who works in radio that I really should become a voice over artist as my voices are so varied and consistent.  When I knew Rebecca just two years before I met Paul I remember we sat down together and she asked me to deliberately think of my various voices and try some new ones to see how I go. 

My list is huge.  My best voices are, Marge Simpson, Jimmy Krankie, Joanna Lumley, Mariella Frostrup (when my throat is having a bad day and I try to be posh), Julie Walters, Jane Horrocks, Maxine Peake, Kathy Staff, Peggy Mount, Bonnie Tyler (when singing) as well as Etta James (when I sing, I have a powerful soul, mow town and rock singing voice); My best accents are Southern Irish, Scottish highlander, rural Cheshire, Alabama, New York Jew, New York Italian, Italian, Greek, Russian, German, Chinese, Japanese, Hindu, South Carolina country bumpkin and New Zealander, as well as cockney, middle and upper class west London, Essex and Welsh.  There are other voices I can do, but they are not defined as an individual yet, or at least we’ve never come across a person who talks like those people yet and there are some American accents I can’t seem to decide what state they are from either.  I do have a very versatile voice when it is in full working order and unfortunately I haven’t been able to play with my voice for nearly a month now and for an average of 4 months of the year my voice is affected due to severe throat infections.  My real voice sounds a lot like Martine McCutcheon and when I was younger and I died my hair dark purple which was almost black in some shades, people even mistook me for looking like her when I was in the street, but this is my main voice when around my blood family – my voice has changed a lot since but often floats back when dealing with my past.  My voice nowadays is described by others to be more like I am from the West Midlands, a mild, middle class accent which would make sense considering how often I was sent to live for a few weeks here and there growing up to Cheshire, Market Drayton and other areas around here – what makes people laugh is whether I was with blood family or not, if I got upset my voice would change into a very strong Cheshire accent all of a sudden!

My life was so unsettled; it isn’t difficult to believe how hard it was to define myself, even my voice.

This post has got far too long now, nearly reaching 5k words, I should really give you all time to digest this and I am very nervous about admitting to the kinds of mental illnesses I have in as much detail as I have.  But the mental illnesses I do not have, which my mother has lied about are social phobias, compulsive eating (yes I have an eating disorder but it is not that), self-isolation, hysterical tantrums and screaming fits on the floor and to some people she has even lied that I have a mental learning disability as well as going into funny trances and doing weird things which scare her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under My life

Discrimination and heritage

Stop being ashamed of your past

Stop pretending it’s not real

Just because things are not happening still

Doesn’t make your history anymore unreal

Stop sitting back denying

Shouting, wailing and crying

About things you don’t like to know and hear

Because nothing will change who you are dear

My extensive family is very diverse in both races and religion; I have seen major battles of race identity and religious identity in my family that have been so fierce, members of my family have been permanently scarred as a result of other people’s denials or hatred. 

This poem is dedicated to families who have mixed race and religious members and are struggling to find their identity amongst each group within their family circle.  I know in my family alone, there is a lot of denial of the other races and religions existence within our kin, even to the extent that very dark coloured individuals will not recognise their non-white heritage and this is sad, especially as it is happening today, it is very sad.

I have a beautiful female cousin who wishes not to be named who struggles in college and getting a job simply because she is mixed race – she feels she is lucky that she is lighter than her siblings because she can get away with lying that she has Mediterranean roots, when she does this, society accepts her a little better – this is shocking that this still happens!  It is true she does have Mediterranean roots amongst her Caribbean and British roots, but it is a shame she feels she has to deny one or other to suit her social situation.

I have a total of nineteen mixed-race Caribbean cousins from 1st cousin to 3rd cousin generations who I still talk to, two of which wanted to join the police force and if anyone tells you that the British police force is diverse and fair, you should know right now that they are lying!  Because these two cousins of mine have never been able to be accepted as a member of the police force, so they had to make do as security guards for supermarkets and malls.

I have A Kenyan Hindu mixed race cousin who is severely disabled.

I have five Nigerian mixed cousins.

My great grandmother was born a Jew in Kensington, London and so her whole side are Jewish and we still stay in contact through genesreunited mail, there are fourth cousins who still talk to me who knew my mum growing up. 

My grandmother’s great grandfather was Vietnamese.

My grandmother’s great great grandmother was mixed Afro American and white. 

I have Romany ancestry apparently.

As well as Italian, Dutch, German, Bulgarian – my sister in law is Slovakian, my other sister in law is Half Irish.

My great grandpa is an Irish Catholic.

My Grandfather is a half Jewish English and half Catholic Welsh raised in Greenford London, when his mother told her family she is marrying a catholic and converting to his religion her half-sister threw her into the fireplace, so much for family love.

An aunt married a Turkish Muslim.

My cousin Julie fully converted to Islam aged eighteen and married a Lebanese, she now has four children.

In my past I very nearly had six mixed-race/religion relations myself, but I was threatened every time I got what mum called – “too close” with a man from another race.  I had dated a Sudanese mixed British man called Marvin who was absolutely sweet and doting.  I had dated a cute and very generous Jewish Israeli called Gideon, for me, as sweet as he was it was awkward that I was six inches taller than him.  I was extremely serious about a mixed Japanese and Italian British guy named Tony, I adored him with all my heart and he loved me so much that according to his mother he never had another girlfriend after me and he permanently migrated to Japan to teach martial arts and English – mum adored him too until she met his Japanese father, then she hit the roof about how deceptive I had been.  A Peruvian Indian mixed Spanish Catholic called Genebrardo, I lived with him for fourteen months and mum accepted this which was strange as she wouldn’t accept the others, yet he could offer me less than the others as far as marriage and commitment was concerned.  Next mum didn’t accept him either, even after Genebrardo; a Hindu Kenyan called Rakesh he was incredibly sweet and very family oriented and homely, he would have been a great father, but he is incredibly easily hen pecked by all the women in his life, including me when I was with him, he was very sad to stop dating me but we remain friends to this day (though its entirely chats through Facebook now), it is funny but if I had stayed in a relationship with him and married him I don’t think my submissive nature would still be around – his mother encouraged me to make demands of her lazy son, lol, he was never lazy poor thing never got a rest!  His mother loved me for my diversity, she was incredibly liberal and elderly, and she was absolutely delighted about my interest in all kinds of cuisine particularly cooking lessons from her.  I thought my mother would be pleased that he was born and raised within three streets of where she lived, but no, he was the nearest guy I ever dated.  The last one was An Egyptian Muslim mixed Greek Orthodox called Adham; He also found that mixed religious families were too much trouble, that it made him decide on not dedicating himself to any religion either – once again mum accused me of being deceptive with her about his race, because he was white and was a dead ringer for Jordan Knight, seriously.  He wasn’t going to surrender me without a fight however and he wasn’t going to allow my mother to disown me either, he wanted to pull her together and keep her as family for the sake of any children we may have in the future.  We initially broke up because he went to live in Egypt for a few months for work and when he came home, a cousin of his had lied that we dated together, but we didn’t, however, this cousins jealousy was so bad it made being together nearly impossible.  Adham eventually abandoned his family and permanently migrated to Egypt within a year of breaking up.  This cousin of his was a devout Muslim who was never happy about mixed relations and was never happy about Adham’s heritage either.

It is not just race and religions that are mixed in my family, classes too.  The class factor is a huge thing for my mother; she can’t accept the upper middle and ancestral aristocracy that my father’s mother has.

Over a time, I will share more about my ancestry.  Is incredibly diverse and it is so frustrating that so many people are willing to deny their roots.  It was proven by a scientist a couple of years ago that everybody in the world is related to each other within twenty five generations, for me and my father’s maternal line, twenty five generations is around the 9th Century and this scientist says that anyone who was alive in the ninth Century AD are ancestors of everyone currently living in the world today.

Consequently my father’s maternal line is the furthest I am able to go back to, because of its royal links; I am descended with only seven daughter lines (removals I believe they are called) to Henry the 1st of France and Anne of Kiev therefore my ancestry there goes back a long way into 555AD to a man named Charibert of Hesbaye.  My mother’s paternal family is difficult to follow because my great grandfather was workhouse born and raised.

So, forgive me for upsetting you – if you believe mixed relations should never happen and you feel personally affronted by any other race, religion or class, just remember this – we are all cousins, you are hating on family that you don’t personally know, people who could benefit you and make you happy, if only you thought differently.

The amounts of amazing people you would deny to be your best friend, your carer, your support, your doctor, your nurse, your family, it is such a shame.  Because I do believe everybody in the world is my cousin.

I don’t share my ancestry for bragging rights – I share it to show the world we really are all related – I research to try and prove it, I am tired of mindless discrimination and family denying family enough to delete them from family trees and their families verbal memories, it is time to change the world!

 

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Filed under Family and friends

Floating but not happy

I am floating without a purpose

Wondering where I will flow

Don’t know why I exist here

I don’t know where I will go

Who are these people flying by me?

What are their names and what do they do?

I want to know everybody, want to know who is who

But mostly I am seeking for another you

I am in the air floating

I don’t know why I’m here

Floating because reality is hard

It happened ever since you broke from me dear

The floating feeling is not happiness

It is a sense of loss

It is a surreal moment

Look some floating moss

I can’t be normal anymore

My brain is too mushed up

I’ve been this way ever since you broke us up

I can’t be who I once was

She is dead and gone

I keep on floating by the weak and the strong

I don’t think they see me

Though I wished they did

I float along in silence

Will I crash into them?  God forbid

I keep on thinking about you

Although you’re lost and gone

I keep on wanting someone

Who will end this sad song!

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Filed under Poems D - F, Songs

World’s hidden monsters

There is a monster that lurks within everyone

Sometimes you will find them and it will strike you dumb

Especially those that you love and trust

The discovery is unwanted because it’s always unjust

You think you know someone

You know them well

But they have dark secrets within them as well

We all do my dear

Don’t you lie to me!

Everyone has secrets

You just don’t see

You can’t know everything, the truths or the lies

You just have to wonder and realise

You aren’t with the person 24/7

If you were my dear surely you’d be in heaven?

So, what is the reason you fight for the monsters?

What is the reason pray tell?

Is it because in your deepest of hearts, you would be like them as well?

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Filed under Poems V - Z