Tag Archives: freedom

A dying spirit

I need to get this off my chest, I apologise if the following becomes a long-winded rant and it is not my intention.

But I simply can’t do it anymore – I cannot live up to other people’s expectations and other peoples idea of what is or is not morally correct or what is or is not true; Everything that I talk about regarding my current life and my past are all true in my eyes, but a lot of people will deny that it is the truth and I can understand why they would lie about that – they are trying to socially protect themselves because they treated me wrong and don’t want the ramifications of how others may perceive them for it.  I appreciate their feelings on this, but I won’t hide the truth, I won’t keep deleting things just because the truth fucking hurts them, they never take into account how much their actions have hurt me so why the fuck am I so bloody accommodating to them?

I have rights too, I have a right to express myself anyway I blooming need to in order to heal.  Living a life of quiet pacification is literally killing me as a person and me as an artist/writer.

Living the life that my previous abusers want me to, is killing the person that I am in every way shape and form that a person can be!

I took on this blog back in winter of 2012 purely as to act as a form of therapy for myself as recommended by my therapist, he suggested I talk freely about everything I want to regarding my life, he recommended that I also use it to bring back the creative person I was again.  It worked until some people found out a few things about my mum they never knew before and they like defensive little minions went and told her and defended her and grouped up on me via telephone and emails to hound me to tell everybody who reads my blog that everything I said was a lie.  They wanted me to lie about the truth I told – they demanded then that I go to London again and at a family gathering literally grovel for my mother’s forgiveness in front of them!  I am quite serious about what I just said; they did demand this of me!

Every time I say something about them on my blog, I do run the risk of anyone in my family still sticking around to read what I am saying, relaying and potentially getting telephone calls and emails again, which is why I had to change the telephone number and we are considering moving because of this, because I can’t be silent anymore.  I need to express everything I have gone through and I feel it is my calling to help others who have gone through the same coercive upbringing as I have, by talking about my past.  A coercion that I was raised in is quite unusual but not unheard of and many people who have experienced this kind of abuse rarely talk about it, because of how violent a large amount of people can get if they hear of it.  You see it is usually lead by one individual who has a large social circle who will act like posse to reign in the abused child if they start getting out of hand or rather, start becoming independent and so-called rebellious to their clique ideologies. 

It rather like living with a mafia minded family with an extended social circle of friends all of whom think alike, like a big extended hive mind. 

This kind of abuse is hard to deal with for a lot of therapists; I have never found one who has been able to help me.  They all suggest that various people of whom have taken a part in controlling me should go and see them, but who the fuck will go up to their abusers and say “you know what?  My therapist wants to see you as I seem relatively stable in comparison to you guys”.  Lol – no one is going to do that and the therapist appreciates that for safety reasons it is probably best not to suggest it.

You know how badly the revelation to my mother has affected me? 

I became for a long time now, primarily a poet who occasionally dips into abstract impressionistic paintings, because I have been scared to talk about anything anymore.  I have even been told that some of my novels I used to write, that the family often used to read, that they see now that some of the things in my fiction work could actually be based on my supposed “poor abused childhood fantasy life”, to a certain extent a few of the themes in my stories are based on my own personal experiences, but I understand enough to know what is true and what isn’t.  That is my fiction.  The stuff I talk about regarding my life is TRUE and I state this quite clearly, the message has not been mixed!

Because I am struggling to appease my abusers so they don’t come back into my life in an aggressive way, I have almost ignored a lot of my creative expression via words and non-fiction posts.  This has led to me becoming so severely depressed that it is affecting my health badly.  I have a lot of problem with mobility of the whole of my left side of the body and I have extreme insomnia and hypersomnia – what I mean is, I can’t sleep for like 30 hours and then when I do I can’t wake up for 15 hours and sleeping comes randomly at any time and once I feel just a tiny bit tired, it is almost like I have collapsed into a coma.  Nobody can wake me up, not even Henry having a tantrum on the bed next to me; it is like I have died!  Quite often, the last thing I think about when I go to sleep is “I hope I die in my sleep – I don’t want to wake up, I don’t like the burden of my memories”.

My appetite is dead, I only eat when extremely hungry now and it is usually just one meal per day and around the side of a sandwich, coincidentally I am losing a huge amount of weight pretty quickly and my hair is around 60% white now.

To say the suppressors are literally killing me by using my own mind against me is an understatement.  I find no joy in anything anymore.  Everything about the sweet, bubbly, fun, obedient, passive, quiet, little Tina everybody once knew is dead.

In trying to force me to be their idea of perfect instead they have made me their idea of a waste of space.

For my health and sanity sake I have to heal the only way I know how.  So I am taking a risk, if they get back into my life again somehow, so be it, I am ready for the repercussions because the alternative is death anyway.  I am going to die someday anyway, why is sooner no better than later?  Would I rather die in secret of how I died and be a mystery to all who knew me forever, or do I want to die in a way where other people can understand me and understand my situation and perhaps, just maybe, stop this from happening to other people?

I know which one I have picked.

The thing is – before they interfered and demanded me to delete and shut up, I was only sharing what I thought was the minor stuff, the stuff that isn’t too big to shout about.  The stuff that is easy for my readers to digest – but now they’ve done this, maybe it is time for the real big stuff, the stuff that makes my therapists cry?  That stuff I kept to myself, that stuff I never revealed and I don’t think people like my big brother, understand there is an even darker side to our mother, than even he realises!

I don’t like talking about that stuff, because I hate remembering the really, dark, dark stuff, but how I express it here, sometimes it comes out sub consciously through my abstract impressionistic art and the images I paint are also not easy to digest for a lot of people.

But I think it is time to just be me in every way shape and form and not hide from myself anymore.  I can’t.  Shutting me away in every way possible is suffocating my spirit and body to death, I need to free myself and that makes taking big scary risks!

Because I am pretty damned sure, since November, my body and spirit is preparing to die.  I am convinced of it and I need to stop this process – not for me, but for my boy.  I care only for him, not these coercive “I have a problem with your life and truth” assholes!  No one can have a bigger problem with my life and truth than ME!  Get over yourselves you control FREAKS!

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Filed under My life

ART

Always a pleasure

Remember this

That art is freedom, it is pure bliss!

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Filed under acrostic

Sunday Word Count 4

Sunday word count four – I’m not on The Wall of Shame huzzah!

This week’s word total is…

12382

And possibly more as I have written approximately six pages of stuff by hand and haven’t typed them up on the computer yet!

It is good but I have written nothing at all for three of the days this week and my only excuse for that is I was exhausted and had gastric flu.  Yes, sorry for the TMI (too much information).

The days break up as this;

11th August – nothing and that’s because our internet is still tetchy, in fact it has been tetchy again today too. 

12th August – 1584 words, which is usually considered a low average for me.

13th August – 7483 words, that is amazing and I wish most days were like this!  Especially as it is still the school summer holiday!

14th August – 637 words, quite low and not at all good in my opinion!

15th August – nothing, because I was busy with other things, mostly reading and calming Henry down and having what seems to be gastric flu.

16th August – nothing again because of the gastric flu!

17th August – 2678 words, which is my good average amount for daily writing.  It is something I would do usually when Henry is at school; it is still the summer holidays so it is amazing I did my average word count for the day whilst he was home!

The writing I have done this week has been mostly notes towards my leprechaun fantasy, including a title change and rewriting certain weak characters to make them have more of a part in the plot of the story, because there was a lot of weak characters, some of which I will be deleting entirely once this fourth or fifth draft is complete. 

I have not included the words towards new story ideas I have had this week, there has been three new novel ideas I have had, but I can’t start work on them until all this other work is finished.  I am not bragging or anything but I really do have a huge backlog of ideas piled up in a corner of this room and it is getting ridiculous because I know that more than half will never ever be started, let alone finished as there is just too many!  I think I must be the only writer in the history of the world who has her own slush pile for what ideas might work and what are weak!

I am also weighing up something in my mind a lot recently.  I love reading and writing fantasy, horror, sci-fi and dystopian stories – I especially love and am addicted to my vampire stories, my saga I am doing.  But I am reading a lot about how a writer shouldn’t really have too many genres under their belt and this is disheartening to me because I love them all.  I can’t release my vampires or my fantasy in particular and there are at least four dystopian stories I really want to write; it seems to me that there are only really two horrors I have planned, so I can release the horror I guess?  Though I have been told by so many people that horror is more of my strength than other types of fiction I write.

I thought I could just write anything and be appreciated just as much, but the more I research the more I am finding that this isn’t the case, I could be found unprofessional and disloyal to my original fan base.  Even to have just the three genres could be too many.  I don’t really know what genre vampires can be put into, because I have found them in so many different sections at the bookstore and in the libraries that they have confused me – they are put into the dark romance, dark fantasy, horror, gothic and erotica sections – so which is it?  Dystopian novels can be put into science fiction, horror or thriller sections too.  Fantasy also has about three sections, dark fantasy, adult fantasy, family fantasy. 

I am struggling to decide which ones to say goodbye to.  My fantasies tend to be comedy family fantasies and some of them are dark, very dark and borderline horror again sometimes with small interjections of dark comedy. 

My Dystopian stories have links with science fiction ideas, new fictional type sciences and leans towards some religious or mythological ideologies or prophecies. 

My vampires are more complexed as the sagas cross into so many genres, science-fiction, horror, romance and fantasy as even my vampires mingle with fairies and so forth.

It is apparently great to be different, but not so different that you can’t define your genre.

If I can’t define my genre right now, how can any of my future agents and publishers?

It is both a depressing and eye opening reality of being a writer.

It makes me feel so caged.

I really love and adore my vampire novels so much and they are a huge part of who I am, but I am not ready to kiss goodbye my leprechauns, mermaids, giants and dragons either.  Nor am I willing to kiss goodbye my ripped up worlds full of warlords and surviving citizens and their struggle for salvation and freedom.

So who is going to take me seriously when I post out my stories to agents in a year or two?

Do you think I worry too much?  Please post what you think in comments below.

Thank you for reading.

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Filed under About my work

Your fiery glove

As I build bridges of friendships and love, you come burning them down again with one fair swoop of your fiery glove.

I tried so hard to make family and friends, but you crashed down the walls and I couldn’t mend them.

You destroyed so much and I grew tired and ill, this is why you are not in my life still.

I need other people not just you.

You think I’m an introvert, you haven’t a clue.

You are the introvert, I socialise fine.

I don’t judge others, I am benign.

I tried so hard not to throw you away, because I am a people person, not like you in anyway.

However a time came when you drove me mad, I had to leave you and though it is sad, I am glad.

Because the poison you seep into my relationships are gone.

As you burned down my bridges I learned to swim across the pond.

Now I have not much family, but I am starting to gain friends and comradery.

It is wonderful, but you don’t see.

You only think that I have wounded thee.

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Filed under Poems V - Z

Falling into the jigsaw of life

I am going to fall off the edge of the world and I will not scream out your name.

I will not give you that attention, you are so very vain!

I am falling for me, because as I fall I am free

As I get to ignore you and your ways

As I keep falling into place

My fall is part of the jigsaw of life

I ignore you and your drama and strife

Because I have to take care of me

Because I can and you will see!

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Filed under Poems D - F

If you can’t cope then don’t make me

If you can’t cope with life and you enter my life, you will sail in troubled waters

If you can’t swim you’ll sink, perhaps our relationship you should rethink?

I am not going to be easy, when I’ve had a hard life

You’ve got to walk with me, or turn away to your light

I have bright days, good days too, I have than more often than you have a clue

I know I suffer and I shout it loud, but I have overcome things and for that I am proud

I am not disillusioned, I am not speaking lies, I have worked hard to live and to thrive

So when I don’t handle your bullshit, think why should I?  Then you should quit, because if the load is too heavy for you, then you don’t have the right to make me carry it too

I have my own baggage, I don’t want yours

I want a new life, with golden calm warm shores

I don’t want to dig another person’s grave; I don’t want to be your emotional slave

I want a life where things go smooth, where life is lived, not thought through

I want a life where action is key, a life where I am happy and ultimately free

So don’t bring me down because you can’t cope, because you think you know me when in fact you don’t

So don’t sit there and whine and moan, when I am out working things out and leaving you alone

I don’t wallow for long my friend, I work it out, I learn how to mend

So should you

You really should

Because living this way, is very good

Don’t offload your baggage to others if you want to be happy, if you want to live happily, change this habit snappily

It’s in your hands, not some chosen saviours, it’s in your hands and in your behaviours

So learn to ride alone in your emotional rides, learn it now and you will rise

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Filed under Poems G - I

A freedom not suicide poem

You deny me of health

You deny me of wealth

You deny me of friendship and love and games

You deny me of faith, you deny me of hope

You deny me of living and you drive me insane

That’s why I left you

That’s why I am gone

That’s why you won’t see me from hereon

That’s why I rant and that’s why I rave

You denied me of life, the things that I craved

So now I have gone, I will piece things together

I will find my hope, faith, love and more

I will carry on, night and day

And I don’t care if your heart is so sore

For I am through with living for you and I live for you no more!

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Filed under Poems A - C

In your arms I’m free

In your arms I’m free
In your arms I’ll always be
In your arms I’m free
We have formed an affinity

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Filed under Poems G - I

freedom from religion

I am going around the bend in a world that believe it is free

Whenever religion exists freedom is something that cannot be

I choose a secular life, but still religion thrusts on

I am sick and tired of hearing the same songs

I need to be in a world where I’m free

But with religion, that cannot be

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Filed under Poems D - F

I need my freedom

My essence is in pain

Being imprisoned drives it insane

This world has locked me in

It has accused me of sin

Yet I only came for sanctuary

I had no place to go

How can I ever tell it?

I don’t even know

I am locked in prison

But it’s for my own good

I am trapped here forever

Because I’m misunderstood

I hope I break free soon

I hope I’m not doomed

I hope I have a saviour

I feel so entombed

I need to spread my wings

And do ordinary things

Like being free and being me

And all my yearnings

I hope I can leave this world

I hope it’s heard my song

I want to leave

To stay I’ll grieve

I hope it sees it’s wrong

But for now all I can do is wait

I hope it’s not my fate

To stay not leave or I will grieve

Forever and a day

I need freedom

I need my family

I need my friends

And I will never leave them ever again

I want freedom

Please let me leave

And retrieve my life before I came here

You know I need them

I need to go

How do I show, that I am innocent?

And that you’ve got me all wrong?

I need my freedom

I need my freedom

I need my freedom

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Filed under Poems G - I