Tag Archives: lies

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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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

The beast of vengeance is hungry

There is a tempest building within my heart

A contempt that’s deep and true

As I keep remembering the hurt and pain caused by you

I sit and bitterly design a way for me to forget

That I ever set eyes and knew you, but vengeance is whet

I try to be a better person, not to become like you at all

But it is hard when you cut me deep and your lies are so cruel

I don’t want more pain as payment for mine

But the more you hurt me, the more my inner beast wishes to dine

Upon your heart, upon your soul, upon everything about you, gobble you whole

It drives me mad, I am insane, but then again, that was always your game

You meant to do this to me, I know

I don’t know why it was here, you wanted me to go

What was your plan for me all those years ago?

Was it really so bad to be a good soul?

You have driven me mad and to tears, a suffering that will last for many more years

But you are relentless, you won’t let go

All I want, is for them to know

But they think I lie and the truth they will never know

Because you will always make it so

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Filed under Poems S - U

Like a spider to a fly, they will know your lie

Silence is no longer for me

I will talk and I will say the truth

I will tell people all about you

Whether you like it or not, about my youth

You can’t always hide from facts

You can’t always lie

One day it will catch you up

Like a spider to a fly

One day you will get slower in mind

One day you will slip up

One day people will hear the truth

Because one day you will fuck up

And I won’t be there when this happens to you

I abandoned you long ago

So be careful of the seeds you sow because you will never know

Which path they will take you, fast or slow

For the truth to be revealed

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Filed under Poems J - L

I will rescue you

I’m am talking about the scriptures

I am talking about the books

I have a message for you

Would you please take a look?

You shepherd to me pain

You created the evil and insane

You make things hard to gain

Yet you still won’t take the blame

God, you ask me to trust you

And I can trust you not

Because each creation is made by you

You’ve made everything – the lot

You tell me to be wary of evil

How not to fool for their games

Yet I wonder why you tell me

What are your puzzling aims?

You see, I think you lie to me

I think you lie and cheat

I don’t think the word of God is yours

The bible was written by a sneak

That’s why you have no name

That’s why you refuse to tell

You try to cheat all of us and put us under spells

You’ve armies who believe in you

You’ve armies who’d fight your wars

Yet God is the name for love

So why don’t you show me yours?

You see I doubt the word of the scriptures that every religion tells

I believe it’s the act of the deceiver, who has put everyone under spells

It was once said “evil hides within the eyes of the innocent” and that is very true

Everyone who has faith in this, is under the spell that’s you

I don’t believe you are God at all

I don’t believe your lies

You’re just a book that tells us stories that are endless in supply

I know that God does exist and he isn’t inside of you

The innocence you have stolen, the world doesn’t have a clue

You’ve imprisoned their hearts and their minds

You’ve taken all their souls

Yet they still worship and believe, that your laws are old as time

Well I am here to free them, to save them with my rhyme

To open their minds and hearts

To open the door to them

I will try and lead them all back home again

For God is the word of love, he discriminates not at all

Anyone who tells you he does, is a liar, that is all

If your book tells you to hate or kill, it is not true scripture it is evil still

Do you want to pay the price?  Do you want me to hand you the bill?

Do you want to be lost forever?  Do you want to stay unfulfilled?

Then take my hand and come with me, to a better place.

A place where I can show you truth, far away from the base

Yes you already live in Hell, you didn’t know it, but now you do

And here is my hand outstretched, here to rescue you

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Filed under Poems G - I

Suck it up for she writes again

Suck it up for she writes again

She writes it all so she can heal and mend

You can’t stop her, you must not

She needs to write and she can’t stop

You must let her drivel away at words

You should allow her to sound absurd

Because you don’t know what lies beneath

The truth of everything that hides in a sheath

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Filed under Poems S - U

Lies, truth and love

Locked in cold stone walls
Shut away and forgotten
Forbidden to live a life
By those who are mean and rotten
Lied about by your torturer
Hissed at by their friends
A mystery to others
Yet no one helps you mend
People accuse you of being the trouble
People accuse you of being bad
Yet nobody knows that the woman they love
Is evil and nasty and mad
Some have seen the truth, a glimpse
But unsure, they look on
And eventually I run away again
And hope that I can belong
But away I went and then there was more
Trouble and lies and hate
But the people who witness the things going on
Think it is I who has caused this fate
They won’t be told that someone they like
Have two sides to their personality
Instead they decide to add to my torment
Thinking they are defending their mother, naturally
But they don’t remember I am not the only one
She has kept in the dark and cold
I am one of three and she hates two
But the oldest one, he never knew
He won’t accept the truth
My father is lovely and it pains me to say
I might never get to see him again
Because she rules him, and he won’t come
To visit me and his grandson
Because she lies to all around, that she gives him a choice to come around
But she doesn’t you see, the truth is this
She would rant and she would spit
If he came knocking at my door
So until she dies, I’ll see him no more

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Filed under Poems J - L

I wonder why the hate dies

I fell into the pit of lies

I was too naïve to see through your clever guise

Though I trusted you then, before my major fall, I know what you really want from me

The person you think a fool

But now I’m wise to your vicious game and I shan’t treat you quite the same

Because I will not fall again, and really you know why

Verily that’s why I sigh, at your vain attempts to lead me on again, your attempts have been nine or ten and then you finally give up and leave and I cry

But I often wonder why?

I am released from your endless lies, the relief is abundant, but I –

struggle to realise now you’re gone even though you did me wrong, the hate for you dies

And I often wonder why?

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Filed under Poems G - I

Abusers have two faces

People hide behind smiles and generous acts all the time

This is the mask they wear and only the abused knows these tricks

People who’ve never experienced abuse cannot see through the bricks of the walls of the abusers and victims

They never see drowned ones in the slime

Never see their friends and family as swine

But they abuse or are abused all the time

And now here ends my rhyme

Abusers have two faces

Though you’ll always see just one

 

 

 

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Filed under Poems A - C

daily pages 2 2015

I am not going to fall at the first hurdle of writing my daily pages, though currently it is hard to do when I have a constantly screaming 4yr old boy in the room with me and I have a mild headache with a double ear infection. Trying to think positively and trying to imagine I am well, I am healthy and I am not irritated by senseless and mindless toddler noises… trying, but not successfully.
My husband wants to take the family for a walk around the estate and village, but I am also interested in not only writing these daily pages right now which could take me about 90 minutes if I can’t think of anything to say, but I also want to watch whilst typing this a documentary about Neanderthals, of which I am convinced my son is one.
Also my brain is occupied with the music theme tune of a children’s program called gigglebiz, a program I hate, but the tune is annoyingly catchy on a religious level; that’s how I believe religion became so successful, good music, great lyrics, catchy and annoying tunes that you keep hearing yourself singing or whistling and before you know it, you think you’re religious because you like the music… scary stuff.
Want to control the world? Be a great musician that can create catchy to borderline annoying tunes that people will love to hate, and your work will never be forgotten and before long people will be living what you’ve written… think hippy! Think happy clappy!
People hate happy clappy because it gets into you so much if you allow yourself to listen to it.
Positive energy is just as catching as negative energy, though some positive energy can be difficult to get rubbed with, because there is always some kind of recoil from others… they’re so used to feeling negative and seeing things in a bleak way, that the light scares them… think about being in a cinema during the day then leaving the cinema at high noon with clear blue skies… painful huh? Energy works pretty much the same way.
Anyway on another note I have been playing word tornado on facebook a lot this afternoon and losing dramatically, seems like the whole world gets over 700 points and I only get an average of 580 – you know I doubt the authenticity of their so called talent because I play scrabble a lot offline with people and I am always the winner. I have a very broad vocabulary and a very cunning way in using the board and I hang around with people with very high IQs, so I guess there’s a lot of internet game cheating going on there.
What is the point? It’s a game, you don’t feel the same way when you cheat and win in a game than when you play honestly and win, so why?
I cannot believe that everyone I play against is a genius.
In fact I absolutely refused to believe it.
Anyway, rant about game cheating aside, for the last 3 months I have repeatedly borrowed one book from my local library called “The art of Gothic music and fashion” by Natasha Scharf. It’s quite a read and quite inspiring.
It’s one of those books that have double pages on each page, I am unsure what it is called, but you can sometimes find old Sherlock Holmes books that are like that, like newspapers.
In the books there is a lot about all types of gothic people, from Lolita goths to steampunks, unfortunately there is nothing in there about some people I know in the BDSM scene who are what is known as “Cyberdogs” gothic, black leather wearing dog roleplayers that where fetish dog masks, something that I have seen once or twice during my travels to Camden Town.
However, talking of cyberdogs the fashion company was mentioned there.
Woof, I think I would have liked to of come under that category if I was still available in the BDSM scene, though with my weight I’d probably look like some overweight bulldog… which no offense to bulldog enthusiasts or bulldogs in general, to me that’s not a good look.
I am listening to beautiful Greek music whilst typing this, yes the Neanderthal program was turned off about 90 minutes ago and I had a long game of online word tornado.
My toddler is sitting on the sofa bleary eyed with tonsillitis and all I can do is recoil as I am only just getting over severe pharyngitis where my GP felt I was nearly hospitalised earlier on this week.
I mentioned the Greek music because I remember a time I heard this exact song played at my mum’s friend’s house Niki and my mum mistook it for Asian music and told her, in an offensive tone to turn off the said music in the most derogatory term of phrase she could come out with – my mum’s friend Niki replied with zeal and shock and horror, that it’s not that type of music at all it’s Greek! To which mum seemed very embarrassed.
I love all cultures, I love their music, their food, their ways, I love learning about people from all walks of life, my only prejudice is religion of any mainstream kind, especially if people kill for the sake of their religion, or if their religion has a history of killing people when conversion was impossible.
Now my randomiser has turned on some medieval music, I am very eclectic (nearly wrote epileptic), my brother is an epileptic and I was told I have a minor form of it by a Rugby GP because I said I get some sensations on my head like people are stroking my hair from time to time which seems to be getting more intense lately, I don’t believe him personally.
I started these daily pages about 4 hours ago, still not finished. I am not in a creative mood today, today is a day off after all, it’s Sunday.
It’s not that I am not dedicated to my work, but today I woke up late and I felt in a reading or scrabble like game mood, particularly as my back is still getting over the fast bumpy bus ride I had into Coventry yesterday, I think they’ve sprained my back!
I am by far a hypochondriac by the way! Seriously not one, just bloody unlucky!
I also have a craving to watch the first episode of Game of Thrones on DVD rental by lovefilm, but when my 4yr old son is awake I won’t, he will not be allowed to watch such violence, I demand that! Also, if I couldn’t watch that then I would like to watch Van Helsing because in my opinion that’s very mild for a child to watch in comparison to other vampire movies, but when a female vampire threw the cow at a building Henry freaked out and got very upset over the mistreatment of the cow last year that he categorically hates vampires – bursts into tears, how can anyone hate them? They’re my kindred spirits!
My son hates me since; especially when I told him I love vampires and that I am one in my books.
All jokes aside our relationship did change after that movie.
I have at least another 600 words to write before the 3 pages are done for the day.
I still find it annoying that some relatives watch this blog, just so they can stop me talking about things that are TRUE AND REAL but they’d rather hide it under the carpet like some dirty secret. They keep brain washing me about skeletons in the closet and my brother isn’t the only relative either, some other relatives are encouraging me to speak the truth, some of them will shock my immediate family because it’s not who they think they are, it’s the most unlikeliest.
Because I was raised in a very unhappy environment, but no one is allowed to know that as I will be sued for defamation apparently.
So yes, like always, I am living under the shadows of blackmail by my bullying family.
It’s infuriating because originally this blog was set up as a form of therapy to overcome my problems, by the advice of my psychologist.
If I ever became famous, I would want people to know the whole me, no holds barred – not because I am an attention seeker, but because I don’t like skeletons in the closet. I would rather be honest and forthright to people, instead of sitting back meekly being a mystery – because let’s face it, before I moved in with my husband I hate no life before the age of 26yrs old… so that’s going to raise a lot of uncomfortable questions in itself, because my life, my experiences up until that point were very, very minimal and people will think that there were bad things about me directly, when in fact it wasn’t – it was things happening to me by bad people.
I also want to raise awareness of certain things once I am famous or even before I am famous, because there are a lot more ways to abuse a child or a relative that people originally think.
Isolating them, home-educating them to isolate them further, when they become adults, making major life decisions for them because if they refuse they will have bad things happen to them and they live constantly in blackmail. I put my foot down against my mother in 2013 because she tried to force me to commit fraud, that’s the truth behind why I don’t like contact with her now. Because she tried her best to make me commit a crime which is not within my nature, Paul was abhorred and it was him, along with a family support worker and my psychologist that felt that the break had to be made as I cannot raise a child around a grandmother who thinks that fraud is OK on certain conditions and that you’re a bad person if you don’t do it for your mother/grandmother.
Awareness of different kinds of abuse needs to be raised.

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Filed under My inspirations, My life