Memories: 5 October 2025

5 October 2025

7:40 am backsliding with my breathing. I had interesting dreams about taking a ferry to an island. I walked around the island, along the shoreline. It was very pretty. Lots of rock formations and blue sea and white sand and clear sky,

I looked at a few op shops which I accessed by clambering over rocks and walking on a tiny path that felt precarious. I had little money and didn’t know how I was going to pay my fare to get back home. So I wandered around aimlessly trying not to freak out about money.

I met an elderly women (who reminded me of my friend Alisa). She was 95 but still had all her cognition. She showed me her photo album. I was shown a photo of a large, very German looking family having a picnic. I said to her “Oh these people are German?”

She replied hesitantly “Yes, their name was Schwarz”. It was unusual as the photo had one person, a woman in the centre of the frame with people gathered behind her, sitting on the ground with plates of food arranged in front of them. As though she was being spotlighted or highlighted.

She was smiling up confidently at the photographer with a look of such happiness but also power. Like she is saying “okay I will play along but don’t fuck with me!” The people behind her look a bit askance like they knew they were extras or bit players on this moment in time captured on celluloid.

I stared at the photo for a long time while. Something felt chilling or sinister. “Did they survive the war?” I asked. “No” came the flat reply. I did not press her further. The heaviness between us hung like a silent smothering witness in the air. “It was the last happy time we had together as a family”. I nodded.

She showed me a few treasured ornaments. I told her my mother had a similar white plate from Japan in her collection (long gone also). She nodded.

Although I was very freaked out about having no money I did not ask her for any. Too proud, too freaked out. But I sat with her a while then left to explore the island on my way home.

I get to the ferry and there is a couple with the husband being in a wheelchair. I help the husband get up over a step onto the ferry. His wife seems annoyed with him, flounces off. He stands up, takes a few steps. “I can walk” he says “but not far very long, hence the need of the wheelchair”.

I am bemused that he made me struggle to help him onto the ferry when he could have walked onto it. But I just accept his reality without getting angry or remonstrating him for being a Trickster. I tell him I don’t have the fare. Only a few dollars which won’t be enough. He replies that I am not to worry. It will be fine.

I don’t feel fine. I feel panicked and hunted and haunted by poverty. I look out at the blue sea, now darkening with twilight, then at the lights of the houses on the island. I think about throwing myself into the sea for my epic failures to merely exist in the world. But the island speaks to me in a language of energy that is timeless and consoling. It’s only money. You will be okay.

I wake up and think ‘Fuck that is too real!’ But I look around my room. Take off my cpap mask. Breathe. Synapse. Begin a new day.

This trying not to die thing is so so boring. Three pee breaks. Exhaustion. Mind snaps. Over-activity. Trying to learn new practical skills. Trying to survive my own life. Running as fast as I can in one spot going nowhere but to hell in a hand basket. Watching worlds and civilisations die and bearing witness to my own evolution/convocation/ grief. Surviving great evil but eviscerating it in the only way I know how: Truth.

Taking each breath, a microcosm of consciousness and nourishment of lungs and heart and soul. Moving forwards, stepping back from the torpid ghastly horror, looking at it as though it’s not mine. My life….my lost loves. Then carrying on as though life can and will be still yet beautiful. Holding the psychedelic dreamer’s dream like a mirage in a desert, surrounded by death, betrayal, atrophy.

I am that old woman. That beach. Those rocks. That blue sunny sky. That illusion. The arbiter of memory. The caché of left behind objects. The searcher for meaning. I am. Nothing and No one, with an aggravated bladder and whistling lungs. A scream goes out to the Void. I am. Okay.

Someone Eternal and more wise and more stubborn than I LOVES me. I can feel their power. Sense their consolidation. Affirmation. Raising me up off the gravel pits of emptiness and loss. “Sei gesund, Little One. We have you”.

Boker Tov (Good Morning) a new day in “Paradise”.

“Don’t give up Tanya….not yet….not today! We love you!”

I nod, lower my head….Thank you.

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Today I cut down the heliconias. Big job. Breathless…but done. Still have the banana trees and dragonfruit to do. Gahhhh!

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Mark Bajersky:

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5 October 2024

4.09 am home safe. In a scathing hot Epsom salt bath. Sore feet but not too bad, as I wore my low heeled bikie boots. I had a very lovely wild old time. Now to revert to Cronedom for the next week.

Richard, the security manager said “See you tomorrow night, Tanya”, our standard joke. To which I always respond “No way, you’ll kill me!“ He just smiled sanguinely but with a slight tinge of disappointment. So I told him when I get stronger, I will dance both nights. He nodded.

I feel so loved and protected. Grateful for the Dance and my wild Mama T spirit. I was in my full power tonight. Awesome!

I walked back to the Queen Street Mall. Bought myself some food at Hungry Jacks then sat and listened to two buskers and admired a young couple dancing beautifully for them. The woman came over to me and invited me to join in the dance. So we did. That too, was awesome!

Then I walked to the car park and drove home. My old Mama T joints all seized up but it was worth it. Every single moment.

I even met a nice young man in the club. We had a rather weird but jolly conversation. He is a writer but works in IT. A lovely intelligent affable fellow. But too young for me! Only 38, which is a year younger than my eldest daughter. Besides I am not there for hookups, no matter how old (or young!) they are.

I threw myself back into the wild mosh as soon as Alter Egos started up again. I needed the catharsis.

Some wild, beautiful, very passionate woman named Catherine did a “dance off” with me. That was hilarious. She “won” cos I refused to grind down and do the twerk. Mama T ain’t got no time for that especially, after moshing for hours. I’d never be able to get back up again :-))).

Hayley said “Do it, Tanya! You can out twerk her!” I just grinned impishly. Let the young be young and carefree and compete with my old lady arthritic bones. Twerking was always beneath my dignity. lol.

Baby girl had ALL the moves. I was so impressed I slapped her bottom on my way past to the ladies, at the end of the night. Mischief and mayhem. Hahaha.

Hayley and her friend Shane were very kind to me and bought me drinks and a much desired glass of ice. Hayley said “Thank you Tanya, for giving me the time of day. I think you are so cool!” I replied “Hayley, I think you’re lovely too, and I will always give you the time of day!”

I freshened up with my rose water spritzer and dabbed some ylang ylang oil on both our wrists. I told her “Beware! It’s an aphrodisiac. You’ll attract men like bees to honey” and we both laughed. She’s beautiful and amazing! I hope my little bit of Mama T magick works for her. 🙂.

Me…I am just happy to smell pretty. Lmao.

Better hit the hay and see what a bright new day brings for me later on!

Oh I forgot! The other rather astonishing thing was there were three young Nepalese people who came to sit with me. They admired all my rings and I told them (the two young men and their young woman friend) that I made many of them myself.

One of the men asked “Why don’t you wear a ring on each pinky finger?” I replied “I do have pinky rings but with that much hardware on it gets a little too heavy but I actually also have two toe rings on as well!” He smiled a tad mischievously.

So I told him “I have rings on my fingers and bells on my toes just like Gypsy Rose!” He laughed. Then he looked at me with great seriousness and declared “I think you are a faery!”

I was a tad taken aback for a moment. I am after all, in service to the gods/angels/fae. I went a little quiet and teased him. “Oh, I might be a demon too! Depends on my mood! But you are correct! I have my own innate magick! We all do!”

5 October 2023

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7:23 pm I just finished a few odd jobs that took most of my afternoon and evening. I soldered closed a jumpring on my Yoda pendant that I made last year.

Then I spent the evening soldering a jump ring on one side of a toggle clasp for my skull/tree of life necklace. I melted three jumprings before I finally got it to solder down. Arggh. But I was delighted when I managed to achieve that goal.

I also finished off my eucalyptus Burl and sterling and moonstone pendant this morning. I also superglued the jumprings into the wood as Ratih, my cleaning lady suggested the jump rings might tear through the wood. It turned out lovely. She felt it might have been better as a brooch but I had already drilled the holes for the sterling silver chain. So a pendant it is! :-)

I am so tired but I have a lasagne in the oven (which just arrived from the Coles home delivery!) so I am looking forward to a yummy dinner this evening.

Lyn visited this afternoon and brought back my laptop which is also wonderful. I am planning on reading some of my more interesting writings and putting them up as videos on my YouTube channel. So I needed the laptop to do that.

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I see either a pig or a wombat. Possibly a pug dog.

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5 October 2021

5 October 2020

I just tried to ring Heidi who I can only assume is still in hospital, and while leaving her a message I spotted this fat kookaburra on my fence. Lovely.

Unable to get hold of Heidi though so that is upsetting. Hope she is okay.

Lyn is coming to see me shortly, which is lovely. We shall sit in the garden and enjoy the day! (Just for today and every day!)

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11:11 am make a wish. Flip on a switch in your consciousness. Dare to Be in all Dimensions...the One you are looking for....Sees You in all your earthly glory. Smile. We’ve got you.

Let Time take Time as it unravels and unfurls the Lotus that is you. There is always another flowering in that muddy messy agonised Life. Each flowering, opening up in spectacular disarray to All that is available and created for your Breath.

Light years from Death that dogged your days and nights until you embraced Her too and now...all there is...is Love and Light and the Dreaming.

Allow good people to surround you and support you. You do not have to do this Life Alone. Even though you were beguiled and besmirched by lacklustre Fools and inclement Tools, liars, cheats, slanderers and knaves.

You were the One you knelt before and beside...singing your prayers to the farthest reaches of the Cosmos, begging for karmic rectification and screaming in the psychedelic dreaming that is/was/will always be You!

They tell you “Know Before Whom You Stand” but they did not tell you to Know Thyself: I am That I am Becoming. Brilliant, flowing Lightbody emulated in third density in a flesh suit that was dishonoured and desecrated.

But here, Kid...Lighten up. I gifted you this life as you are a specialist in your field: a Survivor. So take that shitfuckery and hold up to the Heavens the spiritual Gold you wove so well out of it and let it be a blanket of peace for those still struggling and puddling in their own Darkness.

I Am will send them Earthangels and they will be known by their goodness and kindness and crazy laughter in the face of societal madness. Dancing and playing through the tunnel of Despair to the tunnel of Love.

Not human romantic love: that is too often faked but the kind that gifts you courage to know this life is your own unique gift and cannot be bought or stolen. Tear up your contracts of pain with all the demonic fuckers. You who cannot be owned as your spirit, your Neshamah, your Ruach demands freedom.

Sing it. Pray it. Vomit it if you must but purge the illusion of disillusion.

Your true loves will come for you. When they get their own shit together.

In the meantime, here is a sign from the multiverses that I love you. Hold on to that. Tiny fragment of the fractal majesty. It is all we have sometimes.

Love in the Dreaming. A stitch in time saves nine but they carved your flesh and rent your garments so naked before the Lord of Hosts must you Stand. Glorious little fat short Hobbit Woman.

(I could have been a Supermodel if the gods had gifted me a desire for healthy small Amounts of food and at least another 12 inches of height). Hahaha

But I was not born to be admired for my beauty but for my intricate spiritual Mind. Hohum. It doesn’t pay the bills or give me a lifestyle that I can relax in but it’s still ...interesting.

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5 October 2019

I feel like a sea anemone, floating in the cosmos (sea!). Unfurling and sending out signals to All that is and when danger is near, quickly pulling back into myself.

A great evil has been dogging me since that pre-admission on 24 June. I wonder if I picked up something deadly in that hospital where even the staff do not feel supported or protected? Still I did not die even though I came close. So close.

The stalker on Friday night then the loss of my pet hen yesterday. Too much. A sequence of events that have piled up one on top of the other as I swirl and sway holding my Sacred Space and keenly wrought balance in this psychodrama of a life.

I am like a little clown fish hiding amongst the coral, trying not to expose my characteristic colours too much as I feel the Hand of G-d upon me.

Meanwhile, my beautiful friend Lyn is coming to visit me. That will be a comfort. 🙂

I have been outside, cleaning Charlie’s cage. Watering half the garden. It’s windy but hot. A nice enough day for a psychedelic dreamer.

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5 October 2018

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Ready for Ecstatic Dance! Shabbat Shalom! Here we go!

5 October 2017

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I am babysitting Harvey for a few days. Awesome. He is adorable!

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A supervisor from Housing is coming out on Monday to assess the rotting staircase. He wanted to send workmen back. I said " What for? They just put in new stairs around the rotten upright which they would have clearly seen! Waste of time!" So he is coming out with some workmen. Far out. Round and round in circles it goes.

Like the fence debacle. Useless. I had to fight about that as well. No wonder I am mentally drained today. I just want to lie down and rest.

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Rang housing call centre. Idiots. "We only fix what is on the job lot". Said there was no complaint about termites before. Um no, I told them now many times it was rotten. What rots timber? Termites. Idiots!

Anyhow have emailed photos of rotten balustrade upright to them and will consider sending it to my local MP as I am sick of Housing not fixing the stairs and only doing it piecemeal while the rest rots all around it.

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Just discovered that one of the uprights that hold up the balustrade is rotten too. Now I need to take photos and send it to Housing as their workers repair the stairs like a fucking jigsaw puzzle and just ignore the fact the whole thing needs replacing. This is driving me insane!!!!

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Haha. A very fat, very happy Crow just had a delicious bath in Beauregard's little swimming pond.

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Yesterday was a good day. While the workmen replaced my rotting front stairs, I spent the day watching/listening to lectures on Gaia. My head was crystal clear, and peaceful so I used that clarity to learn and absorb much as I could, while taking down the tarnished rusting necklaces on my spare bed and breaking them apart, rescuing the little glass beads then later washing and sorting them and then made two hanging decorations from some of them to put back on the end of the bed. Recycling. I threw out the rotten components. It felt good to declutter and re-purpose.

I did several loads of washing as I stripped and remade both beds. Late in the evening I got hungry and cooked dinner. A busy productive day.

I have so many days lost in trauma that it was nice to be able to get stuff done.

Today I will try to motivate myself to clean the windows and (gasp!) wash down furniture and dusting. It could happen, right?! Lmao.

5 October 2016

Finished Breaking Bad. All 5 seasons. Now watching West World.

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Quietly observing (feeling) my emotions cascading like a fountain. Or spiralling downward and upwards in a constantly changing Fibonacci sequence.

From desire and delight to despair and back again. Rising and falling like the controlled and sustained elegant movement of a trotting dressage rider. Trying to rein it in before it bolts, jumps over yet another obstacle. Crash and burn, gravel rash of my hurdy gurdy life. Getting harder each time to get up, stand up and regain my saddle.

Mustang Kwe. Fuck it. We will ride bareback into the sun. My steed and me. My angel. My Champion.

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I have been in the garden, shovelling the compost from the now-abandoned turkey mound (I saw no babies this year :-( ) and schlepping it down to the front garden to fill in the soil that he stole from initially and the rest has washed away.

It looks much nicer. I packed some around the lemongrass that was existing on barely any dirt. It said Thanks! Well, not in so many words. I felt happy about it.

I moved some rocks down for garden edging as well. The front garden should look like a show-piece. First impressions and all that. Keep up the façade of equilibrium and success. The rest can all just go to hell.

Well, not literally. My whole place is doing really well. I have put a lot of effort to keep my housing commission place looking nice. It has given me a lot of pleasure. Something to do when I have been angry or distraught. Or just plain bored.

I listened to Manny Waks interview while I worked. Then the interview about the new show Deep Water about gay killings in Bondi. Interesting. But perturbing. The world is filled with so much pain and horror but dirt keeps getting shovelled, new growth unfurls exponentially, flowers bloom, then die.

Something brave and young and strong creeps slowly and exorably out of the dark moist depths of the earth. Seeds germinate. Life flows and even the failure to thrive beauties (like me!) often surprise me with a new burst of life force, of vibrancy and even flourish.

Makes an old tired broken heart and mind feel peaceful. Nothing lost and everything gained in the tree of knowledge of good and evil and the tree of Life that inspires and blesses and even nurtures my soul.

Every mortal bastard that ever pruned me to the deepest cuts and left me bleeding and wallowing in death's strong clasp, shall pay his or her dues.

Time tells the stories of survival and glorious triumphs over desecration, abomination and oppression. Time and G-D have their own agenda. I waited so long and in vain. But at times the pain subsides and I am stripped bare in the garden of delights, watching everything breathe and if necessary reinvent itself. A Delight.

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Awake and aware. Another glorious day in Paradise. The sun is shining. Goldfish are happy. Hens are happy. Dog and cats are sublime. I am alive. What more can I want? (Moreeee? Please Sir can I have some more?!)

My Garden is flourishing. Everywhere I look, nodding flowers and new spring growth. Rebirthing from the wintry discombobulation. Celebrating our life.

(Who will buy this wonderful morning? Such a sky, I swear I could fly?). A gift from above and below. Thank you!

5 October 2014

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Woot! Jarrod and Crystal are taking me to Mt Tambourine tomorrow. It's been years since I have been there. It will be nice to walk in the forest.

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You haven't lived well until you have to come to terms with the reality that your cat thinks you are an Idiot!

Happy Psy Sighs!

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Love that man! (Robin Williams) One of our generation's greatest Teachers who lived the fine line between pleasure and pain. His body has left us but his spirit and mind is with us for eternity, through his movies, his comedy, his Art...all inspired by his own unique Heart!

Carpe Diem. Sieze the day before the Day Seizes you!

So "gather ye rosebuds" as my garden is bursting with them. A beautiful day and a beautiful Life.

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Wow! Just got a message from Rosalyn Hoedemaeckers. Her mother died in May so she wants to catch up and chat with me. I haven't been in touch with her since my brief trip home in 2004. It will be interesting indeed!

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Trigger Warning: intrafamilial incest, emotional/mental abuse

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When I was a kid I was told I was stupid and insane by both my toxic parents. I would come home with glowing reports from school, resplendant with A's and B's, poorer marks for maths and PHys ed.

They would treat them with contempt. Even my paedophile godfather told them they should praise me for being bright and told my mother to quit hitting me in the face as it would ruin my teeth (it did! Abcesses!). In some ways he was a better parent, but his sexual predation was far more damaging!

To prove them all wrong I went to university just before my 17th birthday. I loved it there. Feeling grown up and free of my childhood. I was very isolated but soon made friends.

Home was a nightmare. My mother thought me being at university was an opportunity for revenge on my much older sister who had 3 degrees. I was lousy at my law subjects and failed. Passing only french and English.

In the second year I got involved in Student Politics. Adult people of presumably high intellect would write filthy things about me on toilet doors. I was still technically a virgin at the time.

I eventually had a kind of break-down, entering into a deep depression. So I dropped out of university. My first and only rebellion against my mother and sister, as a teenager.

They yelled at me for hours. I held my ground. I wanted out of all the sickness and abuse. Ultimately it took me over 40 years to get free of them all. I had no way of knowing that at the time. So I grew up quick, converted to Judaism, got married and ended up with another emotional abuser. Oh well!

By 28 I knew what I had done to myself, and I wanted a better life for myself and my kids, so I got us out of there. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The violence and mental/emotional abuse escalated. Yup! My mother and husband never quit harassing me. It took her demise and death to finally get freedom.

So I was told I couldn't sing and was tone-deaf. Maybe smoking pot unlocked something when I was 40. I will never be a good singer but my daughter tells me I actually can hold a tune now. (Well, if it's a song I know well!)

I was told I was stupid, insane. My psychiatrist told me my IQ as a child would have been off the charts but as I got older, years of trauma would have dulled it slightly. I always thought I got dumber after the pregnancies and motherhood. "Baby Brain". Nup. Trauma!

Although I am not insane I am very damaged after years of major Depression and PTSD.

My parents told me I was useless then were intensely envious of me when I had a lovely house with my husband and a successful (while I was in it!) business.

They would scream that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Well I must have choked on the bastard thing and it has fucked up my innards as I ultimately lost or walked away from any hope of prosperity. The price of my freedom and sanity was too high. It was leave or die. I almost died anyway, when my husband set someone up to strangle me!

Later two separate former lovers strangled me too. Men either wanted to stick their tongue down my throat or choke me. Glad that is over!

So after those experiences I became a zombie. Existing just for the sake of my kids, shuffling the mental patient shuffle, trialling all sorts of anti-depressants while I waited for Karma and Lady Death to smite my enemies. It took another 20 years but I got slightly healthier.

I got older, wiser, and stopped letting people stomp me into the ground after burying me alive. Even Zombies get tired of breaking out of the ground. I eventually got sick and tired of being one.

It kept me safe and cossetted (closeted? Lol) then after my last relationship breakdown, the death of my mother, and the horrendously evil salacious Will, once again I chose Life. But this time I got it Right! Thatt was 4 years ago.

After a year of grieving my mother and Courtenay, I walked into an Outlaw motorcycle clubhouse off the street. Uninvited! Without knowing anyone. My most courageous audacious chutzpah in my life!

I was accepted by the Hierarchy immediately. I told them that I wanted a partner. A real man who knows how to treat a real woman who is unusual and is done with abusers.

My actual words were "Point me to the single men! I don't want to step on anyone's toes and I am not here for drama. I am sick to death of Buckle-riding pink frilly knickered Bullies who can't or won't treat me right!" The man, who turned out to be the President burst out laughing. I was accepted. I was welcome!

That is when I knew I was Wild and Free and as an abuse survivor, wild and free men loved me. They "got" me. They respected me. They, too were Survivors.

One day the president told me his Dutch father had been in a concentration camp at age 12. I told him my Dutch stepfather had been in one aged 18. We bonded over that. We knew exactly which traumas we were raised with, apart from our own.

He was always kind to me and protected me. I was his Muse. He didn't let me get a partner either. He told me his men were unsuitable for me. I was too good for them. I was devastated. Told him so. "See you next week then, Love!" He was a good friend to me. Him and his partner! I used to dance with her.

A former dear friend of mine from Kadimah congregation, Dr John Bradley, the man who designed our logo I now sport as a tattoo, made a beautiful kabbalistic 'amulet' for me.

A poster with Makom written on it. “G-d can be found in strange places”, he said. There are 49 gateways to Heaven. Some are hidden or invisible. Even Jacob met the Angel he wrestled with, while sleeping on a rock for a pillow! That fight with the angel caused Jacob to be re-named Israel!

I have fought with demons all my life, my former family, my lovers, my own fears. Now I fight oppression, child abuse and am an armchair activist.

I live in poverty in housing commission, alone, but I am the richest person I know. I have something that money cannot buy. I have Love, Life and Myself.

It is awesome. Inspiring, validating and beautiful. It is Happiness. It is Freedom. It is knowing that Angels are real and they do have my back. Even if they play tricks on me, there is comedy in tragedy and tragedy in comedy. Yin and Yang, and the singularity point of my existence.

Just Because. No rhyme or reason. It is all starting to make sense, the paradoxes of my parenting, my broken heart and disturbed rattled mind, my ever-loving indomitable soul that never let me leave this earth as I knew, as my good friend Sylvia Shine of now Blessed Memory used to tell me, "Good times are a-coming, Tanya, so hold on!"

She was right. It was a beautiful lie at the time but a lie that manifested into a Reality. Positivity is the best kind of "lie" you can tell yourself or another. "Build me up Buttercup". A song I was singing along to with a guy I met over a week ago!

The synchronicity not lost on me even if he lied about following through on a date. Haha!

Just keep going, move it…move it, hold on, believe in yourself and Love. Never let the Bastards Grind you down (Nil Carborendum et Bastardoes!) I promise you, Dr Harry Smith of now Blessed Memory, and Prof Gordon Senator, who taught me that useful piece of Latin advice. I won't Ever. Ever!

I am not the jew I used to be. Not the child I used to be, not the Woman I used to me. I am More. I am a butterfly. My time in the sunshine in the garden of bliss. It might be too little, too late but it is my time to fly and taste the nectar of Life's warmth and Life's blessing.

A butterfly might not live very long, but she flies and flies and shimmers and shines and is stunning and awe-inspiring and some day she might alight on your finger or hair and bless you with a kiss. Let her be free and love her anyway. Just because.

She has transformed and transmuted but she still remembers the caterpillar and the molten chrysalis. She knows who the fuck she is, even if she has no idea where she is going. You can pull her wings off, but she will always be the butterfly.

(Don't anyone Dare pull my wings off, my Angels will smite you! Trust in that!)

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Yup! I am a sugar addict. My mother got me hooked as a very small child. When upset or anxious or triggered by my PTSD I crave it like a drug. It is one of my few comforts in life. Instant relief and happiness in lollies.

When I was younger and driven by my hormones, I would get savage at PMS time if I couldn't get lollies or chocolate. Even my husband knew what had to be done to quell the rage.

When I was pregnant he used to go out in the middle of the night to find an open service station to get me chocolate. It was the only supportive thing he would do for me.

Enabling my addiction, as he knew it brought instant calm. (This was years before I gave in to taking anti-depressants,valium and Seroquel!)

I still go on sugar binges but over time I recognised how strong the addiction actually is. I have stood in supermarket confectionary aisles, muttering "Poison poison, poison" to avoid buying sugar.

I thank G-d every day that I was not introduced to Heroin or any other hard drug as a teenager. I would not have survived.

My mother and a neighbour who was an RN actually took me to a flat aged 11, to a friend's home in St Kilda who was a major heroin addict and a prostitute. They showed me the dirty needles, the 3 year old neglected child in dirty nappies and the mirrors in the ceiling.

That was how my mother de-programmed me about hard-core drugs. By attempting to frighten me. It worked. One of the few fucked up weird arse parenting motifs she got right.

She told me at the time that Hitler made all 13 year old school children be taken on school trips to the sanitariums to witness end-stage syphilitic patients. This was designed to frighten them from having teenage sex. According to her, it worked. She was terrified until her 20's.

She must have understood that with her own addiction to sugar, and now mine, it would possibly lead to other, more dangerous addictions.

I got off light, only being addicted to oxygen, happiness (which I deserve in abundance after the life I have had), sugar, and Love. I think Love for me, is still a more dangerous addiction than even sugar. It involves another person and that brings such unpredictability and instability into my life.

As an abused child, I always choose poorly or attract psychopaths, having been raised by narcissist sociopaths and paedophiles and their enablers, love is still a very confusing, dangerous and frightening thing for me. It represents rejection and abandonment and years and years of grief.

So I will take lollies or chocolate for a quick fix any day :-).

My new addiction is dancing at the pub with the awesome bands and hanging out with friends. I love it!

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1.47 am. Tried to go to sleep but feel an immense 'attunement'. Someone is tapping into my energy. Ie. thinking of me. Hmmm! I wonder who it is?

I will have to try to shake it off and settle into sleep.

5 October 2013

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4.39 am. I danced all night. Now my feet hurt awwww. I am brewing a headache which is caused by my dodgy tooth. Double Awww.

I had a fun time regardless! Perhaps I should sleep soon.

5 October 2011

Still so exhausted I spent most of today in bed, then took Miss Bella for a walk to Jarrod and Harvey's place for a chat and afternoon tea, then back home to ponder my existence or lack thereof. Zombie states are so boring, and dry. Unless you are eating brains of course LOL.

I'm looking forward to October 13 and 14th. 13th is deadline for Scherer Schmucks's defense and 14th is going to be my night to partay! Arriba arribe underlay!

5 October 2010

I spent most of the day shredding leaves from all the branches and putting them in my compost bin. I am so proud of my compost bin. Whoever thought kitchen scraps and shit could make me happy like a motherless child? Next step, worm farm (now that's a commitment cos you have to chop up food very finely for them, keep them cool in summer and water them occasionally.

5 October 2009

Rest in Peace my beautiful wonderful friend, Wandmaker! May your journey to the Ein Sof Aur be blessed and may the Divine Spark of your soul ignite in the wonderment of the Eternal Light. You brought us joy and took your joy with two bullets. But love and joy are eternal, and I will hold your joy and keep it precious. G-d Bless, my friend.

5 October 2008

had a lovely weekend with her friends.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons