Memories: 11 July 2025

11 July 2025

7:56 am I woke up from intense and very brightly coloured dreams of visiting Jarrod. He had a house full of kitschig cheap plastic looking ornaments that he had collected from op shops. Many were possessed.

We were walking through to a room when suddenly he looked behind me, blanched and froze and said “Don’t look back, Tanya?” “What is it?” I asked. “The biggest mofo werewolf I have ever seen!” I nodded. I had felt its presence but was not overly afraid of it for some reason.

It concerned me more that he was! So I started reciting the Shema (Jewish liturgical prayer which affirms the Oneness of God) very slowly as though each word had to be extricated out of my throat. By the time I got to the main verse (V’ahafta…) it was gone.

The next room was brightly lit, almost had an ethereal angelic glow to it. I looked at another of his ornaments. I was of a woman, looking like a Madonna or a Kuan Yin. “That one is terribly haunted”, he said.

“Why do you keep all this shit around? You need to release all the negativity. Get a clean slate. Purge the dross!”

“You Tanya? What about all your collections?”

“My house is clean, I have prayed and purged it all. It actually feels lovely to be in my home now”. I smiled. It truly does!

“What about the dead zombie useless men who actively strived to destroy you, Tanya?” I threw my head back and laughed. “That is/was Destiny and we all know that never lasts for long. Papa Legba always protects me and shuts it all down!” Jarrod looked less certain…but nodded.

I woke up and seeing my better sleep result of 0.7 realised I am healing. Even in my dreams I am wrangling the demons and finding humour in it all. Laughing in the face of their ignoble cuntish Mother Hydra Baby treasons. The poor motherfuckers had know idea what they were playing at.

But the gods kept me alive to bear witness to the new dawning of humanity when it wakes up to itself and purges itself of that particular infestation…and becomes courageous, and loving and lit from inside again. I shall look forward to that. A brave new world.

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I have cleaned the birdcages. Sitting down to rest a little I admired my crystal and amethyst bookmark sparkling in the sunlight. Pretty. Life is pretty...Happy Mama T!

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Sunlight Melody: Gods and Monsters

Crystalline crunch

Smoke on the water

A breath of Hope

Potentiates blooming

A gloaming through the glooming

Sunlight refractions glistening

Watery subterranean depths.

Arise and shine, come back, from the Abyss.

Rippling light from between dimensions

Showing us The Way.

Ahead of our Times, Out of our Mental

construct.

Let there be Light, Immersion in pure Water and consanguinated Bliss.

11 July 2023

Half asleep this morning I went to pay an extra payment on my Zip Pay. I accidentally paid $649.95 which I am now frantically trying to get back.

I have left three messages on their system. No response since 8:44 am. I am freaking the fuck out as I only have $14 left in my account and two major bills are due to go out in the next few days.

On top of that I am waiting for a plumber to arrive from Housing to clear blocked drains. So my stress level is intense.

If zip pay refuses to get back to me and/or refund that money I paid back in error (a click of button that I had not even realised had gone through!) then I am royally fucked for this fortnight.

I hate this existence where in a nano second they can take your money but you can’t get it back without an epic struggle.

I only wanted to pay $90 today, not the full amount.

Update: crisis over at 2:28 pm. I rang Zip as the computers don’t seem to be working (had an email returned from housing twice too!). The young lady says it’s such a simple thing but it took all day to get to speak to a human.

My nerves are quite rattled but my teeth are singing with relief!

Gahhh note to self: do not transfer money first thing in the morning when I am not synapsing!

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11 July 2022

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“…And the three men I admire the most, the father, son and Holy Ghost, took the last train for the coast before the music died”

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11 July 2021

I have been gifted so much love today from the neighbourhood today. Margot came past with Susie and Rosie. Then Robyn with little Koko. Robyn arranged to bring Ailsa in the car for a visit. Ailsa has been missing me and wanting to know where I live. So she stayed in the car and we chatted merrily from across my fence.

When I am hale and hearty and fully embodied in Warrior goddess mode ie no longer have a runny nose, Ailsa and Robyn will come for a proper afternoon tea. I shall look forward to that.

The old girl said I would be seeing her sooner than I expect and she wants to live with me. I had to break it to her gently that I would never be able to take such good care of her as Robyn and Pete but she is always welcome to visit!

Robyn worried that she might run off to my house now she knows that I am here. I said “that’s okay…we’ll have a cup of tea then I’ll ring or message you so you know she is safe with me and then I would bring her home”.

I think Ailsa likes the idea of having a happy place to escape to as she is quite fond of me with my various eccentricities lmao. But yes, if she makes it up that hill to see me then that would be a mark of quite some determination!

She has Scottish heritage like me although she is made of much stronger stuff than I. 91 and healthy as a horse. Amazing!

Robyn spoiled me with a gift of three yummy muffins! Yayy!

So my paperbark grief is slowly being shedded day by day. So much love from Sally also.

I am comforted and blessed.

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!!!“Breathes”!!!

11 July 2020

1:11 am on 11 July. Make a wish...Babies :-)

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I felt very fragile today. Or perhaps a better word would be “brittle” like a smashed up toffee. I had a slight ache under my left lower mandible which worried me as last time that hurt I had a cyst and they pulled yet another tooth.

So I rubbed the area gently and told it to go away and told myself to be happy no matter what and stop clenching my jaws as it is literally causing me physical harm. Maybe it was the mindfulness but the pain eased within minutes.

I took Bobo and Charlie for a walk and met Margot and Dave and their delightful children outside their house with their new Labrador puppy “Rosie”. I had to keep Bobo away but he softened slightly when Rosie rolled over and went to sleep while we were chatting. I still kept him on a tight leash though.

We chatted a long time (or I did!). Laimee, Damon and their little girl arrived also and joined in with the chat. Then I continued with my slow amble around the block.

Charlie really enjoyed his walk with us today. Some wild lorikeets studied him sitting on my shoulder, and swooped us. Laimee cried out in surprise. I said “It’s okay, they are just trying to work out why one of their species is hanging out with such a weird mature age woman” then I giggled!

I got home and resumed typing up my diaries. But I was very tired today after yesterday’s intense emotional Storm. So I took things easy and went to watch tv.

Tonight (10:26 pm) I feel like someone (a physical person) is tapping my energy and it is rather annoying. Use the phone...people. Telepathy which is initiated without mutual consent is just invasive and draining. I have had quite enough psychic vampires in my life!!!!

Anyway I am fine. I am rebuilding moment by moment, fully consciously aware that I need to make dramatic changes in my life and waiting for the requisite miracle so I know where to go next.

In my diaries from 2002 I was in exactly the same space...which is both disturbing and intriguing. Nothing changes if I don’t allow change within my own Being.

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Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka :-)

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11 July 2019

I woke up feeling content. Peaceful. Safe. Alive. I hovered on a gentle wave of love and peace and warmth lulled between the dreaming and the consciousness of a new day.

I greeted Bobo and Penny, with a gentle bemused “Good morning!” They both smiled at me. Penny purring magnanimously. Restoring my soul.

I rolled over and looked at my iPhone. To discover lovely messages from a cousin and two friends. Sweet. These missives of care and love.

Thank you! My Darlings. Blessed Be!

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11:11 am on microwave clock. Lol. 11:08 on iphone.

Baruch HaShem. The angels and higher intelligences have my back! Yes...they doooo. If only they would get off my back or chest for a change. Cosmic consciousness is a Bitch. But we gotta love Her!

Mama T is back in da Room! I have cooked 3 pancakes and devoured them. I have played IRIS and belted it out (to scare the neighbours you must understand...mediocre motherfuckerssss).

Time to sit in the sun with Charlie. Sipping tea and contemplate my newly reconfigured (minus the belly jewellery which I only ever push out!) navel!

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Well I felt good this morning but now my energy is flagging. My face feels heavy like I have just been punched. I know why. I have an appointment with my gp at 1:45 pm and I am dreading it.

Also my energy has always ebbed and flowed like the tides. Swirling and twirling then clumping and slumping. Maybe I was born with it...maybe it was early childhood diseases and sexual abuse. It is the way I am now. Moulded and enfolded by pain.

But the pain is not all mine. I am sitting on the ground, letting it ease into the earth. She who takes our pain and strengthens us. But I do not only gift her my pain.

I have gifted her my life force when I was ecstatic and triumphant too. When I, in former times, made love and orgasmed. When I took delight in men and their capricious games. No more!

Now my joy is in the earth and watching myself unravel and blossom into eternity. Sitting with my dog who patiently waits for me to get the fuck off Facebook and throw his ball. Fair cop, Beauregard, fair bloody cop!

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Saw my gp. She says no more soft drinks (makes fatty livers worse, as bad as alcohol!!). No more lollies or chocolate. No more junk food (have already mostly stopped that). No alcohol. I have to get my weight down to cure my sleep apnoea as I refuse CPAP. Hmmmmm. Okayyy!

I said what if I get my weight down and I still have bloody sleep apnoea? She says we will address that when it comes.

She thinks there is nothing wrong with my heart (even though it was irregular during the night after the surgery). But she ordered me an echocardiogram and a 24 hour heart monitor so I can stop freaking out about my old flagging heart.

Oh and somehow I have dropped a few kilos to 89.30. (I was 92kgs). Well that is what comes of feeling like death warmed up, no alcohol and no fried foods.

So the (over)-proof is in the pudding.

I shall overcome. Maybe. Sorta. Kinda (cheeky Tanya grin).

My doctor asked me if I wanted to live or die and if I wanted to live I had to eat healthy. I replied that every day of my life has been a constant struggle to choose between life and death and It was not always an easy choice to make. That I have lived this dichotomy since very early childhood and that is why I remain in fucking therapy!!! (Jesus!!!)

But I told her that interestingly I find myself no longer suicidal as I fought like a demon bitch from hell for myself after that surgery and I blew even my own mind. She smiled. Good enough.

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Today my gp reminded me (after listening to my chest!) that I have a wheeze so currently have asthma as well as sleep apnoea and reminded me to BREATHE. I had told her my lungs felt clear. I must be really out of tune with my body right now.

She sent me to the clinic nurse to have the remaining undissolved stitches removed. That was a relief as one had formed a loop outside of my body.

My funny old incongruent body. Little trickster Tanya flesh.

All good. I feel very weak and tired today. But I will heal.

Update 2020: Still breathing even as I am seething.

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I am reading “The Kadaitcha Sung” by Sam Watson. I have had this book on my shelf for several years and only now, interestingly during NAIDOC week was drawn to open its covers.

I always wanted to meet a real Kadaitcha Man but the gods and the ancient ancestors and custodians of this land did not find me worthy. Psy sighs. Or maybe that old wise one that was drawn to me years ago at the casino Livewire bar who patiently watched me dancing all night was one? We sat and chatted briefly. I had seen him around the cbd for a few weeks then he disappeared.

But while I was manifesting Mana from original Australians in the hope of some cosmic rectification of my own, or healing or natural Justiceeeeee. Licks lips..... I was being grown into my own mana. The gift of a broken heart. Powerful in my core.

Well I thank the ancestors of this land upon which I walk barefooted for gifting me supranatural Courage and Love from an ever-replenishing Source that is not even human and never ever lets me down.

For taking away much of my fears and for blowing life back into me like a barely lit ember to a blazing warming nourishing campfire. A tiny spark of the gods buried deep in my recalcitrant chest. My heart pounding as I write as it knowsss.

It’s time is ever-decreasing but it sings its own wonky beat to the heat of a love so perfect and divine that only time can defeat me. This heart of mine. Psy sighs.

Kadaitcha man and medicine women…hear my song and carry my heart long after I am Gone. Tell the young ones to shape up and beat their drums and dance and twirl the dust beneath our feet.

Our work has begun to heal our minds, our bodies and the very soul of our earth. Commingle to jingle the writhing rhythms of fate before it is too late. We have light and love and understanding and no time to sit in sackcloth and ashes bemoaning our imminent demise while all around us our Earth fries.

No time-no money-no luck-no love from Human touch but the winds whisper my name and the earth in equilateral pain takes my burdens and buries them deep and spits me back up reconfigured, renewed and ready to dance and play and carry my ways in the ever-loving summerlands of sunshine blessèd days.

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11 July 2018

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Just bathed The Beau and clipped his nails. He was stinky and accidentally clawed me while I was sitting with the cats on the spare bed. So it was on for young and old. I had to run to the bathroom to pour dettol on my bleeding big toe and put bandaids on.

Bobo is clean now but running around the house shaking out his doggy protest. I am utterly exhausted. The weird nerve pain in my left thigh is back. I hope it doesn’t get as bad as it was in January.

I had planned to attempt to replace the rubber seal in the washing machine today but frankly now, I don’t give a damn... it can wait another day. Also rain is impending. It was a beautiful sunny day earlier.

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11 July 2017

I stopped taking Gastrostop 2 weeks ago. I googled withdrawal symptoms and apparently after longterm usage it can give you the same symptoms as opiate withdrawal. I have been on it for 10 years (chronic stress causes diarrhoea as the vagus nerve is under pressure).

I have been experiencing hot and cold chills, anxiety (racing thoughts) anger, diarrhoea (duhhh!!!) stomach cramps, Pain in chest and upper back, hot flushes, fatigue (normal for me).

I don't want to continue to take Loperamide but if I have to (because of bowel issues) I will go back on it.

I just want to get off most of medications. Been free of antidepressants for 14 months now.

I want to be healthy. For my older age.

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Charlie has had a big appetite for the past 2 days. Me too! Must be the cold nights. I have been dealing with a great deal of anger. So keeping myself quietly contained until this "storm" of temperament passes.

I hope I feel better soon. I have been through a lot this year and delayed trauma reactions can be intense.

I need time to sit with myself and heal.

11 July 2016

5.15 am I literally bombed at 11 pm last night from exhaustion. Now averaging 6 hours sleep per night. Far out. Asthma still bad. Crystal tried to Skype me at 11.30 pm but I was too exhausted to talk to her. Or anyone.

I was hypomanic yesterday. I think. I was definitely over-functioning from exhaustion. But Annette and I got a lot unpacked and set up most of her apartment.

Right now, I feel kind of sick. Stomach churns but with urge to run screaming into the night. Lmao! Someone set a fire in my belly! This too shall pass. I am going to make a cup of tea then try to get more sleep.

The life of a Berserker is terminally exhausting. But as Lyn says, it is all about Balance. Coming back into alignment after decades of trauma.

I just gotta keep breathing. Rinse and repeat until I die.

Lol! We are entering the domain of the Crones. No rest for the wicked lmao

Eating tinned peaches as I am out of chocolate. Desperate for sweets!

It is so colddddd so cold peaches out of the fridge is not cool. Lol

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Trigger Warning!

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You know, in some ways, it is hard to look at this childhood photo without some measure of pain. I was such a wild carefree joyous spirit. Even then, as a child. It is a beautiful photo as I remember that day, even that moment, being one of the happiest of my life.

As you can see, Rosalyn was much taller than I, even though she is 9 months younger than I. She has 4 older brothers. I had a half-sister 15 years older who married the year I was in this photo. Our only close friend, Rosalyn's and mine was Lynne Robertson. My true sister! Oh how we used to fight! Lynne was 4 years older than I.

But Rosalyn and I were like a dynamic duo. Bloody unstoppable. Plus we had the beach! We would tear at each other's hair, bite and kick, slap and scratch, scream and yell but we loved each other. We would take our scratches and bruises and be very devoted friends 5 minutes (or a day) later.

I still remember stomping up to her house one afternoon. Muriel, her Cockney Mother fended me off at the front driveway.

" Ere, you, you little Bastard, Look what you did to my Rosalyn!! (Get over 'ere, Rosalyn! Show Tanya your knee!)"

Rosalyn walks over, sporting a bruise the size of a side plate under her knee. I look in horror. I had done that. No denying it. It was Huge!!!

But I held my little 6 year old ground. Head held high in indignance.

"Yes Mrs Hoedemaeckers, that was me. It looks nasty. Really bad but.." I bent my head forward showing her my scalp. " but this is what Rosalyn did to me so it is sorta even!" Muriel looks at my head where a bunch of my hair had been torn out of my scalp".

"Ohh shit! Well I suppose you little brats plan on making it up today then! Can you try not to kill each other today? You are giving me grey hair".

We nodded politely and silently in her direction. "Well bloody shake hands on the deal then". We shook hands. Then buggared off to the beach for our usual cavorting.

When I got home I got a stern look from my mother. "Muriel and I have agreed to not involve ourselves in your fights as neither of us know what to do with you both! One minute you are killing each other the next it is like nothing ever happened, perfect harmony".

For my part I had had hard-arse role-modelling. My fucking fucked up violent abusive parents. I had anger issues from being a victim of child sexual abuse when I was 6-8 as well (although I never spoke of that to Rosalyn I did eventually tell Lynne which was a heavy burden for an 11 year old to take on).

Together Lynne (my hero) and I opened the bonnet on Trevor Singh's car (Humber Hawk). Lynne tried to find the brake line as she (a very gifted well-read child who had already read every book in the childrens' section of the Island Bay Public Library so was now reading adult books in the adult area that were deemed appropriate by the Librarian) had read you could crash a car that way.

We looked and looked. In quiet desperation. But we did not know which line to cut so Trevor Singh lived. To continue to abuse me and very likely other children. I wish to this day we had cut (crossed?) that line. How different life could have been?

Anyway, here I am. 5 years old. Still untainted by the sexual abuse but accustomed to verbal/physical/emotional abuse and at times neglect from birth.

Even Trevor was obsessed that I was properly fed and nurtured to a degree. He took the hard gingernut biscuits (that I had hungrily smashed into my almost 3 year old freshly-stitched up mouth, fresh from oral surgery removing a tumour that had spread inside my mouth, lips and was even growing roots into my cheeks) and yelling at my parents and sister for thinking it was funny how hungry I was, how determined to eat even with a raw swollen mouth (probably still under the influence of the anaesthetic too). He soaked the remainder in milk and spoon-fed them to me. In that instance a better father/mother/sister than my own blood.

So the cognitive dissonance, the rage and the confusion, the love/the hatred for him who later became my sexual abuser (in his twisted disturbed fucked up mind I was his girlfriend/mistress/lover/companion) began.

So here I wonder why I never had a healthy normal sexual relationship with any man. The damage done to my little body and psyche had set a pattern for the rest of my life. Love/Sex/Survival/violence all jumbled up in a soup of trauma and distrust, even loathing.

I turned out great. I was a beautiful, highly intelligent warrior-child who did not deserve her Fate.

I managed (quite miraculously!) to not kill anyone, not even myself. I managed to avoid being a drug addict or a serial killer. I managed. Barely. To survive.

I married very young hoping for love and safety and got precious little of that. I did not know what safety felt like until I moved into my housing commission home 13 years ago. I was 38 years old.

Even then I was not completely safe but a place I could stay in, lay my head down and begin to heal. It took years. Still healing. But I am much older and wiser now. Now I can laugh in the face of so much madness and collateral damage I endured in my entire life.

Laughter. Banshee shrieking at doors and Lintels. Loudest and last. Is Best.

Fuck you to my family of fucks. My father used to instruct me "Vengeance is Mine Saith the Lord". He had a lot to fear from me. They all did. I knew who they really were. Monsters.

Not under my bed, but in my bed. Not wispy raspy delusions inside my head but a daily and nocturnal reality. The reality that made little children want to put a permanent end to them.

"Give me a child by the age of 7 andI will show you the (Wo)man."

Here she is. Splendid creation of dark and light. Fear and fright. Love and hate. Amidst supernal powers of healing and compassion, even for my personal Monsters of Yore.

They took so much from me. My childhood innocence. My right to a safe happy healthy life. My mental health. My physical health. My ability to find or sustain safe loving partnerships. My ability to create wealth or even work. Finally they robbed me of my rightful inheritance.

They took and took, exploited, slandered, abused even started abusing my own children (which was why I kept moving house, kept escaping them). With no money and minimal support except for a few good kind decent close friends.

But I managed. I grew myself up, I grew my kids up. I did great. In spite of my huge limitations.

So now excuse me if I must insist on having fun before I die then spend the last part of my life (months/years?) in peaceful harmonious serenity with enough love and joy to sustain me. My star has risen but like a holographic Moon it may not shine its light of comfort and joy for very long. All things are temporary.

Rise and shine. While ye still can, my beauties. For when my light shall dim and fade to black out, I fully expect you all to continue to shine and light the way for others, seeking truth joy and love on the journey to wholeness (Wholesomeness). I cannot do it without you.

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Mushu must Die! He just did an epic stinky huge poo under my bed. I had to get up and lie under the bed on the icy cold timber floor to shimmy under to get to clean it up. Evil little bastard!

He does this regularly. At least once per week. I have no idea why. He used to be the cleanest of all my cats. If he weren't so adorable I would strangle him with my bare hands. He knew he was naughty so he bolted into the spare room and tried to hide under the spare bed. I grabbed him and threw him outside.

Now back in my bed, gasping for air. Beauregard asked nicely to go outside half an hour before that, so I had already been up to let him out.

I got to Skype with Crystal at 6 am too. So busy albeit exhausting morning. I might try to sleep for another couple of hours.

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My little Frieda had a Near death experience today. I wrapped her up warm, settled her down. I hope she survives the cold night.

She truly is Fabulous. I need that dog/dickhead free zone asap.

11 July 2015

I received a letter from the person's lawyer that claims I have publicly defamed him on facebook. I responded that I will go to court on this issue. I have not publicly defamed him but I will not be silenced on the issue of CSA. I stated I have the support of my psychiatrist.

Next battle ensues.

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5.05 pm. Where is my life going? Another day flipped off like the proverbial bird. Life aint getting any easier but it certainly is speeding up. Getting older, wiser, lonelier is not for sissies. The price I have to pay for my Cronedom.

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Alter Egos are playing tonight at the casino. They are a good band.

My heart is aching, I have another sinus infection. It will be a cold night.

I will see how I feel later. I need to move on with my love life but it is so hard when you love someone and they play you like a dog chew toy. Especially when it is all my fault for being blindly loyal, loving and vulnerable.

Kick my own arse and just keep dancing to oblivion, I guess.

Yesterday I was blissfuly happy and today Bombed out to shattered shrapnel of denial, grief and utter betrayals. The world can spin in a dime. I just wish my chariot of fire would quit doing burn-outs and wheelies and crash uncontrollably.

I need to get back on that horse and ride into the sunset and never come back.

11 July 2014

2.17 am Home from Irish Murphy's. Jo and I rocked out with Jabba. Woot! The place was hopping, skipping and jiving. Love it a lot.

Some random guy handed me a piece of Baklava and I quipped, "You want me to have your cake and eat it too?" I ate it. It was delicious.

Halfway through, I laughed hysterically as I fell in love with a man over a piece of Baklava too. In the beginnings are our endings or perhaps the sweet syrupy honey and almond cake is a sign...a metaphor for my life??? Kiss me Honey, honey, kiss me. Thrill me, honey honey, thrill me…don't stop even if I blow my top, cos Honey honey...I love you!

Blech!!! Sorry!! Old programming from my fucked up abusive love addict narcissist Sociopath parents. My petticoat is slipping. (spews!)

They did such a number on my head in my entire life that now I am completely unable to get a meaningful relationship or sustain one. Not all my fault but hard to get out of the starting block when you can't smell a rat and eke out a living or identify a no-goodnik in the very first place.

Years of therapy and I am doomed to remain single. Blech! No regrets! Je ne regrette rien! I love my freedom.

By the way Baklava dude got kicked out for head-butting and I feel bad for eating his cake. It could be laced with ....honey. Wait for it..Paranoia just kicked in. Can Honey give you Paranoia?

11 July 2013

Jasmine started a Fashion Design Course this week. She sent me her first design. I am so happy for her, that she is finally doing what she loves.

Crystal had a screen test for a short film last night. I hope she branches out into Film and TV acting.

Her new business, Clown Play is starting to build nicely.

Grateful, Happy Mother here!

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Sailors are in town and I wanna go out! Lol! Think I will stay home, keep warm and overcome my bug instead. Blech!

I took Julie out for a few hours. We enjoyed dancing and people watching!

11 July 2011

Freshly made bed with fresh clean sheets, is sheer bliss. I slept 12 hours last night, plus the few hours I napped the day before to stop me missing Courtenay so much, plus the 12 hours the night before that. I feel less tired tonight, but starting to flag lol. Only been awake for 6 hours. I need a good party! Just to feel alert and alive! lol

11 July 2010

A quiet couple of days but you'll all be significantly amazed. I cleaned the loo, bathroom floor, did some dishes (in the bath cos there were so many!), changed my sheets and cooked dinner for my darling Courtenay.

Oh my, Goddess of Domesticity, praise me, your vagrant flagrant disavower. LOL Getting there! Oh and my lounge room looks tidy too. (I almost scare myself!)

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The faces of evil…my FOO. (Family of origin!)

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons