Memories: 19 June 2025

19 June 2025

7:11 am blah…bad night. Upset myself over sewer issues and trying to get my new iPhone and watch to operate. Stressful day yesterday, so much ruminating and calling myself back into full operational activation. lol.

I have to go back to the Optus store today, after Ratih finishes cleaning at noon. I am sure they will easily sort it out. It took me until midnight, still downloading apps etc. FML and YouTube is still not working properly either…not uploading a video I made last night even though I was exhaustedcos I am an overachieving bitch now. Lol

Good morning. Overachieving with non fully functioning technology to prove my own stupidity is crazy making. I feel like I have been hit by a bus. But it’s not “Them” it’s me. I had the same struggles when I got my last iPhone which was faulty from the beginning and overheated constantly.

This one hasn’t overheated. It’s semi-operational until I get Optus to reactivate the call/text functions.

So it will get sorted. It’s just a smartphone, not the end of the world.

But I can’t slowly chip away at it, like I did with my cuff. (Which took two months to wrangle to completion). I need my lifeline now. Or asap.

Three more years of debt so I can watch videos and interface with other humans. It’s nuts but it is necessary. I freaked out yesterday morning when I couldn’t call housing about the epic sewage fail. Which the plumber that kindly cleared it last evening says will keep happening as it’s a BCC issue and they told him they won’t be here for 20 days. Shit Full. Other peoples’ rampant rancid shit.

Welcome to Hell!

But…it’s a glorious cold morning. The light is golden but has a brittle texture to it. Like a halfsmile of a cynical oppressed Mona Lisa. Fading away to nothing…but we won’t fade away. We will fight. We will recover. We will triumph over adversity.

We will laugh in the face of societal atrophy, shitstained breakdowns and passing-the-buck incompetence. We will fight until our bones turn to dust mid-fight like a vapourised chalk cos we are fighting big government who shuttlecocks between departments and other automaton autocracies like any ignoble bureaucratic communist.

…And we will be grateful we still have fight in us cos so many, so many gave up too soon. Or lost the will to hold their line and to stand up and be counted.

Swaggering through period products and baby wipes and effluent in an affluent greedy corporatocracy gone mad….but shhhh Mama T is supposed to the mad one…undeserving of quality of life, true friendships and real love and even her breath…

Well…we will see about that!!! We will see who proudly stands with me and fights for/with me and does not shrink in the semigolden light from my spiritual warrior’s warcry.

“Give her an iPhone so she does not notice”…she documents everything…everything…it’s how she keeps her mind whetted and whelped, shaken but not stirred…brilliant but not gaslighted or in denial. So yes…I am glad I am in debt and glad I have technology to keep me trapped in a matrix….I will keep my sanity, my voice, my heart and my loins.

Awake and aware and forging forwards. Let the fakes and fops atrophy…not my circus, not my monkeys…amiright? Not quite…they used to be human. They used to have souls. They used to care. I used to delight in their humanness, sweetness and joy.

So I will not give up on my species even after they aligned against me for being a “chosen one” who kept my light and my love like a burning eternal flame longgg after I had the realisation that I was literally pushing shit up hill.

Now the shit backflows to me, to my sacred space garden but we will fix that shit…watch it fertilise my bottom of my garden…and laugh….

…

19 June 2024

7:56 am I’m home safe from the sleep study which was conducted with the CPAP mask to test to see how I coped with the pressures of the CPAP device. Lots to process from last night.

The night went well although my anxiety was extreme and I had very little sleep which is natural, given I was completely wired up plus had the CPAP mask and device which I’ve basically avoided for 21 years to my own health detriment (perhaps?)

So the ancestors that love me, in true classic Shamanic form, tweaked my peak experience in the most delightful, but still kind of quirkily triggering, way LOL.

I arrived at 7:30 pm. Rang the doorbell. The most gorgeous youngish mid 30s man appears at the door with a long Viking style pony tail held back with various hairbands. By the look of him, he even looked Scandinavian.

There was a brief moment of surprise and awe that passed between us as I nervously stood on the stoop and apologised for not reading the sign on their front door properly and had rung the bell instead of knocking more discreetly. The doorbell chimes play some kind of Germanic sounding tune but I already knew that from visiting there for the lung testing recently.

So I was carefully pushing that out of my trauma trigger activation, kinda internally laughing my arse off, while that very handsome young man shows me to my room. The night proceeds (earlier I had rung my friend Lyn for comfort and grounding).

The lovely young man tells me that he comes from a Dutch family and his grandfather was in a concentration camp in Holland (they were unfortunate to live on the border between Holland and Germany when war broke out) but had been hit by shrapnel when a bomb had gone off, so he had a steel plate put in his head.

As a consequence he came back from the camp with an altered personality and was extremely violent to his father so his father, who in practical terms, had ghosted his father for the rest of his life since childhood.

I nodded. I told him his father had second generation trauma which is common with the children of concentration camp survivors and that my stepfather had been in Mittelbau Dora in Nordhausen where they built the V1 and V2 rockets and that my mother had been on the other side of that horrific war in Nazi Germany and that I am Jewish. He nodded respectfully.

I was mildly surprised that in spite of my Slavic Germanic appearance, he did not ask me why I’m Jewish which I thought was extremely accepting and non-confrontational. Lovely man. If I could wrap him up and take him home and keep him hahahaha, as a gift I would, but Mama T simply can’t adopt every lovely man or woman she comes across on her crazy verkachte walk on planet Earth.

But after that brief conversation with the lovely sleep technician and our soul kin connection, which was intended to soothe me ….I was even more in a spiritually heightened state and this made it even more difficult for me to shut down my mind and sleep. My spirit was simply flying all over that place metaphorically speaking, hypervigilant and activated.

I even had a spirit say “Sebastian”. I assume it was one of the sleep technician’s ancestors but I did not want to make a fool of myself or trigger him by asking if that was someone he knew?

I struggled to sleep until I think, around 2 or 3 am. Josh woke me around 6 am saying he let me sleep a bit longer as other patients had to get up earlier for work, which I thought was very kind.

In the morning he asked me to do a nose testing so I sat down and was greatly amused that the nose testing machine was called “Rhinomanometer”. I had to laugh because in my nightmare three mornings ago I had dreamt of a giant rhinoceros beetle rolling on its back after I had sprayed it with WD-40.

My subconscious would have marked the name of that machine a few weeks ago when I had the lung testing, but I had forgotten it, but it had dredged up the imagery of the rhinoceros beetle to pre-cognitively show me that, this morning I was going to be shoving plastic nodules up my Schnozz yet again, for the nasal test.

Kinda hilarious when you come to think about it: how my mind slips back and forward in the space-time continuum like a sliding scale, keeping me in some kind of altered state, yet maintaining perfect equilibrium to get me through my current health “adjustments”.

I made a cup of tea, chatted amicably with another younger male patient and then packed my stuff and left. I stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast before driving home in peak traffic which felt very fraught as I am so exhausted from lack of sleep.

However, the sleep study was a “success” and my ancestral kinsman was very kind towards me. The CPAP device did not cause me pain or discomfort in my lungs or diaphragm area this morning which was a problem back in 2003 and the reason why I back then rejected CPAP so I am hopeful that this time I may respond to treatment, although it would require a full mask which is not so nice… fuck it.

But the ancestors that love me and the gods and the angels…that is, the Holy One in all manifestations of love, light, truth, healing and ever quirky holiness IS just as determined as my honourable and worthy Psychiatrist to keep me tethered to planet Earth for my longer continuance than I planned for and for the potential to manifest my truest greatest lover man/life partnership, better health, success and perhaps…with fully oxygenated lungs and brain and heart (Bejaysus!) Mama T a.k.a. the Tanya a.k.a. Miss Five might be able to thrive at long last.

Amen v’selah!

It occurred to me during the night that I may not choose to heal myself as living as I have done for 59 years in this half life, zombified but supra-natural, extremely powerful state but also cosseted and protected by the few rare birds who see me and recognise my manatoa (ancient maori word gifted me by my cousin’s chieftain ancestors which means “powerful spirit or energy or lifeforce”).

Those who have gifted and tortured me with a lifestyle where I was kept in poverty, yet simultaneously gifted immensely with the ability (liability) of not having to struggle so damn hard by having to work for my basic requirements.

To the degree that I became a bit spoilt and complacent and afraid of both success and failure as each time I attempted to earn a living or begin my own business I was figuratively and literally smited by the gods, as I was simply not permitted to push past that glass ceiling that feels like a giant smothering opaque dense crust of ice above my slowly dying head. Ice that I have been trying to crack open and push through in recent years.

So perhaps when I can breathe freely again….(if….) this is my last chance to “Make” it in this life.

Find true honouring mutually exclusive soul nourishing protecting love…and bloody well Thrive, instead of merest survival and arsekicks from the multiverses which historically (even until 2019) involved me almost dying with rather monotonous regularity!)

Farkkk!

But here we are! A new day! A new paradigm. My wild bird friends in recent weeks have shown me the signs of a cosmic shift here on planet earth bringing new hope, positivity, joy, love and peace.

We can and will do it :-)

But for now. Mama T must sleep!

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https://www.facebook.com/share/v/oNGYP5B2X2NgLPft/?mibextid=MOktm1

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/fvYPF8kdpdM9CYeU/?

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1:30 pm The sadism continues…interesting. This time I am taking particular notice as this happened when Bobo died too. It’s actually really cruel and evil. I am done!

….

2:06 pm On a happier note: I seem to have been “adopted” by two wild rainbow lorikeets. A breeding pair that seem obsessed with me. Even Charley is astonished and kinda freaking out. Life is better with birds (and the faery realms!) Blessèd fucking Be but it’s delightful.)

…

Comments left on a fb friend’s page in response to her post. I am triggered but even in this strange state I am adhering to truth quite lucidly with the insight and incisiveness of a brain surgeon. Lol:

Me: Greatest mistake of my life was marrying too young and having children when I was unmothered and unsafely fucking fathered (by four male father figures in my family of origin) as well.

I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I just wanted my own babies and family and paid a terrible price for that.

But…had I not had children so young…I would have denied myself the immense joys (amongst the agonies of being a mother) and although my life might have been easier or safer or financially better, I would have lost sooo soo much.

So I regret nothing except if I ever come to this planet hellscape or paradise depending on my circumstances in any given time in the space-time continuum that I NEVER get damaged by a family or origin or later lovers again.

That I get a chance at a truly good life one fine day 🙂

(Name redacted for privacy reasons):

Tanya Arons I also felt that I wanted children to have a “different” family than the one I was raised in. I told myself I would be different- loving, involved, calm, and a fun mom. The reality is that a lot of the time I am stressed, don’t give them the time or attention they deserve because they’re in daycare or with baby sitters, and don’t have the patience I thought I would. I don’t know if things would be different if we were financially secure or had a man in the household. It seems most men I’ve known actively avoid helping with kids. They’ll play with them sometimes but I know a lot of single married mothers. Whether we want to be like our parents or not I see all these same dynamics and traumas play out. I don’t regret my children either. But I’m still picking up the pieces and trying to heal.

Me: (@ name redacted) my ex husband was a terrible father (not so bad when they were babies) but around 3 he totally lost interest in them or had some kind of psycho-sexual fear of them. Partly why I left when they were 7 and 9. I did not trust him to be around them. Ironically, Can you imagine the absolute mental gymnastics I then went through having to give him access every fortnight? Or the psychological games he played knowing my inherent traumas and therefore fears for my own daughters. Or the vicious financial abuses and so on and so on, including orchestrating my first strangulation for $50. The bastard!!!!

The rest is history! To my knowledge he didn’t sexually abuse them but that “fear” or antipathy to their tiny forming female bodies and minds (a projection of his hatred towards me and his own long dead mother perhaps!). Was enough to emotionally scar both my girls.

As I said. We didn’t know what we didn’t know. No one does. We fall in love or hope for a stable loving partner based on the fake kindnesses they briefly show us during the “courtship” then when the marriage license is signed, all hells breaks out and then we breed with them.

Hoping to fix the unfixable, the psychopathic, the cruel because it couldn’t be history repeating yet again… can it? I fought with that level of denial for ten and half years until I had no choice but to either leave or kill myself. So instead he tried to get me killed instead. Fiddy dollars. That was the price of my first strangulation.

Oh and the hilarious thing was that was an upgrade on the $20 my mother used to pay boys and men to take me out on dates.

Dull intellect narcissists and psychopaths. AVOID!

Sorry. A bit raw today. I had a sleep study with cpap mask last night and I barely slept as I was extremely trauma activated as I don’t really want medical intervention which historically did not work for me.

But here I am “choosing life” knowing what I know about how my life has been and praying for a miracle that this time things are better or different and the answer? Both my two best friends are either avoiding me “too busy” or not taking my phone calls and they kicked me in the face metaphorically speaking like this the last time I was in crisis (that time a major fucking crisis) when my dog died last August.

So the answer is: I need to eliminate these toxic sabotaging abandoning “friends” I thought were like family to me.

In the post Covidian epoch they have demonstrated they are not “there” for me when I (rarely) lose my shit.

So maybe 5 decades of sleep deprivation and oxygen starvation has turned me into some kind of psychopath too. And that is why they FEAR MY FUCKING VULNERABILITY so much as it’s rarely brought to the surface or on show.

Oh and the irony??? It’s now 1:52 pm and I still have not slept. So this is gonna get interesting! I will have to knock myself out later if I don’t pass out first lolll.

19 June 2023

Another gorgeous morning. Bobo is constantly itchy and biting his legs and groin area. So I rubbed Aloe Vera on the red raw skin. I hope it heals.

We slept until 9:45 am. I still feel a fairly hefty fatigue. But the sun is shining. Charley is twittering. The garden is beautiful. Loving my Sacred Space.

…

I spent the afternoon polishing my little opals. I lost two in the grass…dammit. It grew very cold so I packed everything away, put on a cardigan and took Beauregard for a walk.

We are snuggled up together on my couch, watching tv and enjoying the warmth from the heating on the reverse air conditioner.

19 June 2022

I made the right decision to stay home last night. I was exhausted and went to bed early and actually slept well apart from my usual constant need to pee during the night.

I woke up at 8 am. I am still lying in bed (8:54 am) having updated my Vocal Media journal.

I just realised that today is my niece Marika’s birthday. She will be 51. Another long estrangement (naturally she is loyal to her evil mother) c’est la vie bitches.

I have no family left, apart from Crystal who I rarely see now, and my beautiful rare friends. One of whom I also haven’t seen since Boxing Day.

I can’t help feeling that Covid and the vaccines have turned my closest beloveds into unfeeling automatons. Only Lyn keeps regular contact with me. If not for her and my Facebook friends I would feel completely isolated.

But even so, it’s not so bad. I keep my mind busy with interesting lectures and shows on YouTube. I have my garden, my pets and my hobbies.

I am fighting to heal my back with the fresh wounds from skin cancer excisions. I am fighting constant dizziness and weakness. I am fighting asthma (it’s been improving in recent days…oddly…given the fresh cut to my body!)

I am fighting spiritually by dancing and raising my vibration to a Joy state with music!

Yesterday I made milk and honey offerings to the spirits also. (The four directions!). I have not been blessing them, my land and my Being enough. It’s time. I need all the universal love and support I can get if I am going to continue to survive on this planet.

I need to nurture all my remnant relationships as it brings happiness and peace and comfort.

The spirits sent me many messages in recent days while I was on my trauma treadmill, getting myself to the dental hospital and the skin doctor. I am still laughing about the bus with the sign that said “Hack” on my drive to the skin doctor.

The spirits know I would not willingly subject my body to this if it weren’t for the fear of advanced cancer. That even then, putting myself into the hands of other human entities is deeply terrifying. So that humerous nudge was a tad sadistic but hilarious.

Hack indeed. I told the doctor and he was amused too.

Life of The Tanya goes on. Carrying her darkness alongside her Light. Holding herself together like Yin and Yang, spiralling in Infinity, a perfect cosmic conscious blend.

Scrambling for a life I can be proud of and praying to be immersed in the truest deepest Love, with good kind people in my life, a true love partner, my beautiful brave staunch friends, my community, doctors, dentists I can trust to do right by me no matter what!!!

Perhaps when this Covid paradigm settles down, a rejuvenated brave humanity who stands up and fights for basic human decency.

If it’s not too late all ready. I might be the last one standing, blasting my screeching cacophonous trumpet. Safety, sanity, sanctity for All!

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19 June 2021

Yesterday when I saw my gp she reminded me that back in 2012 I was 82 kilos (according to her scales I am currently 91.20 kgs) and that to “cure” my sleep apnoea and get rid of my chronic fatigue I need to stop eating lollies and exercise more.

I laughed as I had just seen an old photo from that year when I had the sexiest wiggle skirt and my corset on, and I did look rather desirable and Ahem…”healthy…?!”

I bemoaned the fact that since I had quit dancing in January as the casino had turned so fucking toxic that it is only natural that my inner “Berserker” child had reverted to bingeing on lollies.

I stated that I no longer have sex, drugs (of the psychiatric variety mmmk) or rock and roll or even Jack Daniels in my life and now I must quit lollies too?! What fresh hell is this?

But she is right I suppose…I rebelled by buying chocolate, two vanilla slices and an apple turnover at Woolies before returning home to the horror news (delivered to my letterbox) of yet another colonoscopy.

To avoid suicide by carbicide I went to work on my snake bracelet and ruined it permanently. So that was more upsetting sabotaging vileness on my own part.

I begged the Art of Jewllery group for someone to re-cast the snake head for me in sterling (I would have to pay it off with after pay or layby!). No one offered to help but I got lots of sympathy.

Which means I will need to save up for the necessary equipment and bloody well cast it myself! Which I am scared to do as I can’t even master soldering and fear blowing myself up with the gas canisters while casting…but that could solve all my weight/trauma/health issues and my doctor who I am fairly sure thinks I am a Malingerer.

It’s 3:28 am and I have awoken with my usual pain in my rib cage and diaphragm. Also my nocturnal need to void my bladder.

My gp offered me Endep to take at night as it will retain fluid and help get me through the night without the constant peeing. But that drug failed to help me some years ago when I had terribly agonising jaw pain so no.. I don’t want drug interventions. I have a bladder that although demanding through the night… is still functioning somewhat.

I have a life that is exponentially unfurling like a lotus in mud, muck and mire. I have Love, Light and a tumescent humour. I have inspiration and musings in the night.

Hell I even have Hope for my future which I manifest one breath at a time. So there is that!

Back to sleep I go. Tomorrow is another day. Or at least it’s already here and I am still playing catch up…on Everything!

…

I had an epiphany about remaking my snake bracelet during the night. When I can afford it I will buy sterling silver sheet and make it from scratch. Hammer it, saw it, engrave it myself. Whatever it takes.

Or buy a large serving spoon in silver (also expensive!) and do same.

So I am resolute and calmer now. I can have my bracelet back but I need to do a lot more work! Argggghhhh.

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Gosh I am tired today. I hope I am not getting sick.

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I had a funny realisation. Many years ago, after my ex husband completely financially destroyed me…I put out a prayer, a manifestation that I become successful or financially stable by my own abilities/talents/undertakings. I did not want to ever have to rely on a partner for my merest survival ever again, especially after all the vicious life-threatening attacks on my life!

I spent years dragging my kids through various house moves, trying to get us to safety and when we finally landed here at Diamond Street my kids acted out and moved out shortly after, leaving me struggling for the next 15 years on my own.

The will dispute during 2010-2012 nearly killed me then the final onslaught of viciousness in 2015 (this time coming from members of my former Jewish community, and a heartache over yet another false lover and other serious health issues!)

It’s taken me 6 years to finally take back the reins of my life, that wild untameable fractious but champing at the bit, Mustang Kwe has proven herself to be quite a Woman! Giggles!

To distract myself from the daily horror and traumas of climate change, COVID-19 and my inherent unwarranted undesired Poverty and ensuing trauma issues, I started making jewellery again this January.

I needed an outlet that I hoped might be eventually monetised. I am sick to my ever-diminishing back teeth of grinding poverty. Of struggling alone most of the time and of my failure to find real love and a tribe that vibes with me!!

So mysteriously I managed to gather enough supplies to get started and I am lousy at soldering so lost an important piece I loved yesterday… but I will begin again from scratch when I can afford the silver!

I am loving my life now and even though it’s still precarious and I have still serious health issues to overcome (cptsd, my gut, my sleep apnoea, my reflux and my skin cancers…blech…) I have indeed achieved a lot in my life…just by still being alive, like a tenacious little limpet on craggy rocks. Of course I did not achieve this alone. I had close and wonderful friends support me.

In recent months I even found a tribe of artisans who encouraged me in my latest creative venting, working with flatware. People who are passionate about their craft and are happy to mentor others like me. I never had that before! It’s been amazing!

I realise I have a long way to go before I can feel truly successful or make a living for myself: independant of the Disability Pension (so I could perhaps provide for myself and have enough confidence and money to finally welcome a life partner into my life on equal footing thereby avoid more decades of abuse, isolation, loneliness). No one wants a broke or broken woman!

But if I never find a true love partnership I am satisfied that I built my life up again from ground zero 6 years ago to the point that I am creative again, and full of Hope and there is an ardent passion for life running through my meridians that for once is not being poured into false trickster vampires and/or ever-empty life-draining lovers.

I am feeding my own soul, body, mind, heart with Love and Light and Bliss and yeah, I crash and burn and spiral under…a pernicious feature of my cptsd where I can spend days or weeks floundering like a flapping dying fish on lava rocks somewhere.

Scorched by my own ineptitude or loss or grief or shaken to the core over a broken fucking bracelet that in the broad scheme of things don’t matter as the world is dying along with me…but I can rebuild myself and my bracelet, and even perhaps find love and prosperity and better health and a kind supportive loyal community/tribe.

If not…. It’s not so bad…I can do this life alone. Have always done it. Even as a child surrounded by the most treacherous monsters in human form, my own family…I did it. I survived.

It has cost me homes, money, degrees, superannuation, portfolios, sanity and I even lost my sense of humour for several years…But the ghouls are all dead and can’t hurt me anymore.

Crystal told me the other day to never mention any of their names. As in Indigenous culture to name the dead is to keep their memory alive, to honour them and my lot do not merit such honour.

She is right. I come from pernicious evildoers fuelled by lust and greed and verminous treachery of their own children. I come from vituperous venal vipers of very little soul, with zero decency or honour shown me.

My insides just ache to think of it. So I won’t. I will get out of bed, greet the day and shine in my luminous delusional desultory salty “Success”. They failed to make me as monstrous as them. I am grateful for that.

Grateful to the Holy One, the arch angels and all the benevolent loving protective gods/Fae/spirits that brought me through with a strong and outstretched arm (Ahem…”nasty smelly Hobbitses”…had to keep me at arms length like my former lovers as they could not be totally trusted with me as I am a warrior goddess Berserker Bitch at times but I know my True heart and my spirit and yes, my worth).

No accident that my only safe haven was this little government home on Diamond Street. The jewels lying beneath my gnarly feet all this time and I did not get the message until recently.

Diamonds are forever! They are on the soles of my feet and although I don’t have enough to purchase security and they certainly don’t keep me warm at night…I have a Diamond soul created from carbon dating shit effluent family of origin and I was pressurised just enough to shine bright enough to be Seen by those who matter and be spat on by those who never truly did matter. The paradox of a woman of Valour, who knows her truest Value and the calibre of her deepest Love.

C’est la vie…Bitches. I am Back!

…

I slept most of the day. Then got up and finished my pendant. It looks lovely.

I just got back from a short walk around the block. A little girl named Mercedes was giving away her art. So I was happy to be gifted a picture of a sleeping koala and told the child that that resonated with me as I used to sleep all the time.

Her little sister is named Esther and the mother is named Cassie. I told Cassie she had chosen powerful names for her little girls and that will give them strength and courage in their life.

She told me she chose Esther’s name as she was born with serious health issues but the lord has blessed her and she is doing quite well now.

I told little Esther (they are Christians!)) the story of her famous namesake. They were quite enchanted.

They invited me to visit for a cup of tea anytime I liked. My heart bloomed. I fear getting close to anyone now as so much grief pervades me when they move away or life changes. But it was a heartfelt genuine offer and I was gladdened by it.

I told little Mercedes to keep giving away her art as it will bless her (until such time as she can make a living by it!). I told her God is making a better world and it will be her generation who will be responsible for it. A big responsibility but I have every faith in their generation.

I probably sounded mad but it is nevertheless true. These current children are so wonderful, filled with light and a desire to be part of a community. It gives me Hope for the future.

…

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19 June 2020

12:14 pm just woke up. Didn’t sleep much last night. But it was warm in bed. Just floated in and out of consciousness and weathered the constant trips to pee.

Menopause is killing me. But all good. This too shall pass. I might have to limit how much tea I drink late at night.

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I am going through my old diaries (always a painful triggering thing to do!!!) but am pleased to discover I had already typed most of them up and have them saved on a flash drive!)

I am ready to burn the hard copies (physical diaries!). No need to store them and keep cluttering up my house if I have them saved in digital media.

This one is my first one and was perfumed. I have kept it in its box all these years and the perfume is still strong. Sickly sweet redolent repertoire of so many utterly traumatic but some sweet memories (like the beginning of my long solid friendship with Jarrod!) and Lyn’s staunch motherly loving support too.

The 90s were my worst decade. As were the ‘00s.... but with the help of my psychiatrist since 2010 and my beautiful brave stoic friends... I got through it. I can almost not breathe when I think what it took to keep me alive and get me and my kids through that foulest of time periods surrounded by so many monsters in my family of origin and their lousy vicious henchmen...(gasp!). But I did it.

Still breathing, still living, still building another kind of life for myself. Psychedelic dreaming my reality that is no longer nightmarish even as the world is steeped in its own dystopian nightmare. Society is finally catching up with what all trauma survivors were putting down. Too little too late. Still too many smug vicious sociopaths smearing my reputation.

I am not crazy. Take that...you dirty filthy snide Motherfuckers.

The world is on the brink of extreme change and I am walking through the covid and the muddy pustulant lies peddled to us as I have always done: one foot in front of the other. A quick pouncing pouting tribal dance for good measure. A hairy wary eyeball scanning the faces of false superficiality and deception.

I have Become! This is my time. The rising and the shining. A long slow process as a caterpillar in a shellacked wormèd cocoon that I had to literally chew my own way out of.

The hero’s journey. Fuck it!

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“I’ve been putting out fires with gasoline”... smokingggggg, Babies!!!

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19 June 2019

I am meeting my cousin Melvyn Kelly tomorrow . He has exciting news. Judging by the sweet way he was giggling like a school boy I suspect he has met a woman. Or perhaps won the lotto?

I told him to save his news for tomorrow’s lunch. Gives us something to talk about. He lives in Cairns now so it will be nice to see him and have a catch up.

19 June 2018

At QE2 dentist for final stage root canal. After this, I have another tooth to be extracted. Hopefully this long journey of toothy problems will end soon.

19 June 2017

The fence is finally completed. He put in the drop bolt and finished the back fencing. Bloody hell that was interminable saga!

19 June 2016

Last night I went out with Karen to go dancing. Again. I grumbled about my aching joints and that I was too tired and sore to go out again. But we sat on the couch for a while, watching Orange is the New Black having devoured two pancakes each (Karen always likes me to cook her pancakes when she sleeps over).

Then up and at 'em we went. When we arrived at the Livewire Bar, Abby Skye and her band were playing, so woot! Off we went.

Something astounding and magical happened. I went into complete manic Berserker Mode. I danced so hard I no longer felt my feet, achy joints or achy breaky worn out heart.

I may have slightly sprained my ankle but even that did not stop me. An old flame showed up. I did my best to ignore him. Finally he made eye contact and smiled. I kept my poker face but smiled back. Guarded and aware that he is still a player.

So after that, I danced even wilder. Determined that, in my small window of opportunity to thrive before I dive into old age and decrepitude that no Man is going to steal my joyous freedom and celebration.

At one point I laughed hard at the realisation that my dead former lover haunted me and now the living ones are making cameo appearances in my reality show of a life. Almost more absurdist than any fiction that is for sure.

So we went home at 3 am, after stopping off at Maccas for cheeseburgers and chips and gravy. Yum! We both, Karen and I retired for the night. But I woke up again at 5 am, to the irritating sound of my toilet cistern running. So I got up, made a cup of tea, fed the cats, rubbed ice gel on my feet, ankle and thigh and am now back in bed writing this.

Apart from killing myself softly with other people's songs, moshing myself into physical annihilation (my legs and thighs have tone like I have never seen before, not even as a teenager when I climbed hills to locate my wild untamed mare), I feel fantastic.

Got a slight cough from the damp weather (a mist rolled in from the river), but my head is so clear it is like being inside a resonant dome-shaped auditorium. I can even hear a distinct high-pitched tone. My Angels have my back. I am deeply truly loved and blessed in spite of my human corporeal limited existence.

One word: HAPPINESS.

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I just woke up at 10.29 am. I slept deeply from 6 am. I didn't even hear Karen leave the house.

But only 4 hours sleep is not enough so it will be another few days of four hourly naps. Lmao. Psychedelic Dreamer is acquiring the habits of her cats.

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Today is my niece, Marika Eva May Stewart's birthday. I don't know why I even remember these trivial facts. Another traitor. Possibly married with one or more children by now. Or dead. Who knows?

Still I must remember she is also the spawn of a paedophile-protecting Narcopath. My half-sister Angela. Ergo weakened and brain-washed by an expert manipulator.

Sweet Moses the genes are strong in our family. Predominately female-surviving babies only for 5 generations. Also narcissism and/or psychopathology in every generation.

Starting with recent memory, my grandmother Eva, then my mother, my half-sister and now my younger daughter (she Inherited a double-whammy of sociopathology from her father's gene pool as well.)

I can't even hope for them to wake up to their abuse patterns as Narcissists are always right and perfect and indulge in grandiose scape-goating bordering on the Satanic.

Actually I have met people who believe in Satanism and found them to have been nicer, kinder more rational, articulate and accepting people. One simply cannot judge another human being unless you have been literally "crucified" by them.

Over and over again, just so you are sure it wasn't you but them and you were not mad or delusional, you really were in fact surrounded by bastards of the 13th degree.

So happy birthday Marika. I hope at 45 you have finally formed your own identity separate from Angela's and woke up to her evil bs. Now that would be Karma Baby.

It took me until 35 to relinquish the rose-coloured shards placed on my eyes to finally see and accept the foul ill-begotten personalities and attitudes and actions of my core family.

The shock of which brought about a breakdown. One of several breakdowns. But to live an authentic powerful life, you cannot hide or bury the Truth, no matter how painful or hideous. I refuse to be THAT person. Weak, abusive and spiteful.

My refusing to continue to accept their abuses meant I was cut off by the remainder of my family of origin.

Which came as a relief actually. Dead Sisters Can't Cry, neither can Aunts.

4 years later and I am replete with beautiful friends, an "Auntie" to those who appreciate my love and sometimes wise counsel and living life fully on the weekends after 5 decades of pain and suffering of such immense proportions that I merely existed and lived to die.

Dead sisters resurrected themselves from their own ashes as Phoenixes will do, each and every time. Something beautiful and miraculous is reborn after every abuse and every heartbreak and every mind-snap.

Something fierce, free, wild but ever-loving towards those who also are forced to sleep in the dust or walk the zombie trudge through sludge.

For only those whom have been broken and rebuilt themselves can comprehend the true value of our lives. We are the beacons of Light and Hope in tempestuous seas.

We are the foghorns that warn of other lost vessels in the muck and mire we lurch in stormy waters. We are the warm balm of sunshine that blasts apart a dark winter's day.

We are Life and Love and Life's promise to ourselves and life's blessing to others.

19 June 2015

9.56am. Just come in from garden. I have been pruning since 6 am. I spent from 3 am doing washing and trying to get itunes to sync my iphone and then trying to clean up computer. What a night!

I now have a sore neck, back and a headache from the strenuous pulling out of huge grassy weeds and pruning.

Time for a hot bath and then some sleep!

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Man, I worked like a demon possessed last night and all morning. It's almost midday and I haven't slept yet. I plan on dancing tonight. I hope I catch some Zzzzzs as my energy quotient needs replenishment. I was very euphoric last night, and in the early hours of the morning, got the urge to attack my garden.

I was coughing so hard at 7 am in the cold air while bending over as I ripped out long grasses, that my pervert Romanian neighbour called out to me. (I then realised he had been staring at my arse!). He called “What are you doing, Dear!" I gruffly answered "Cleaning up".

He knows not to mess with me when I am on one of my garden rampages. I straightened up, moved my posterior in another direction, so he couldn't salivate over my assets, and kept hacking...literally. Eventually the coughing stopped and I thought about sleeping but a fourth wind kicked in, so I kept pruning until 10 am. Woot! I needed that!

I had a lovely hot epsom salt bath and now lying in my bed, all cosy. Watching a movie. Well deserved rest!

19 June 2014

Vacuuming half done. I broke up the boredom by ripping out plants from the garden and composting them. All the washing is done but alas, alack it bloody chooses the day I get all my laundry up to date to piss with rain. Ye gods. So I had to bring my bras inside so I have something to wear tomorrow.

I also cleaned the guttering at the rear of the house, as I can just reach that. I had a burst of energy which was most unexpected given I was a dead duck zombie all of Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. I guess I needed to sleep those days.

I can't go out this weekend as I am broke, so that means I could do other stuff like dusting and polishing 🙂. I might even dig out an apron so I can go all 1950's and I dunno, bake biscuits or something. I'll find something to do for sure as I have neglected the house for months.

Yesterday I cut back all the leaves from the banana trees and threw them down as mulch. Epic but it was good to be out in the late afternoon fresh air, and I pruned all but one rose which I forgot. I'll have to do that tomorrow in daylight.

I will have to start writing when I get the house in order (that will keep me off the streets and what else can a bum like me without a dollar to my name do but write Charles Bukowskiian tomes about how shit my life is and then laugh at it?) Well, I could make some jewellery too. Blech.

It's all lying in front of me on my table staring at me...but for now. Vacuuming...must....finish....the...vacuuming. I need drugs. I don't like this domestic version of me, it's giving me the creeps. Someone will want to marry me next and make this a permanent arrangement then I will just Dieeeeeeeeeeeeee "Evil Chortle".

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2 am. Finally exhausted. This arvo I pruned my roses, did heaps of washing, cooked dinner, re-made my flower clips I wear in my hair, cleaned the small outdoor table (large one is broken and needs replacing so I will break it down for firewood..it lasted 7 years and was rescued from side of road back then). I also cleaned sanded and cleaned a wooden box that I keep my garden tools in. Will need to oil it tomorrow.

I might go through laundry and throw out all the excess stuff I gave hoarded lol. Lots of empty pails from rose fertiliser.

I might clear out under the house too. I have an urge to purge. Not much left but still need to sort stuff and chuck it out.

19 June 2013

Saw my Dr. Back on small dose of Seroquel to help my mood. Been very lonely and pathetic lately. My dr told me money would solve a lot of my problems but as I don't have any will have to carry on regardless.

Meanwhile I fixed my glasses so can see/read again. Phew!

Crystal visited me tonight and bought me dinner at Moonlight Noodles. We had a nice time together.

I am really tired but watching Carnivale Season 2. I bought it months ago but hadn't got round to watch it til last night.

19 June 2012

19 June 2011

My Darling Lyn visited and rescued me from my computer blues and took it home for Peter to fix. Awesomeness! We sat and watched tv and I smoked 2 cigarettes. No more or I get cravings lol. It was so nice to have company on a chilly Sunday nite. Now for Downton Abbey!

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Good news is the newly built computer actually reads my USB ports now so I’ve been busy scanning old family photos which I've wanted done for over 12 months. Woohoo! I was able to recharge my Sony walkman voice recording music playing thingy. Progress!

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I had a lovely walk along West end river bank with Gail and Miss Bella. Then we had MacDonald's. It was lovely and warm in the sunshine but I feel so tired now. My computer not going on the Net must have been too stressful.

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Miraculous news...Gail found my gold Gypsy hoop earring. Woohoo! So happy about that. Bad news is my computer ate its internet connection...sooo my lovely friend Peter has to fix it yet again grrrr.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons