Category Archives: MY WORLD

My experiences good and bad.

The classic Mrs Thought bubble

This is a surreal piece I wrote about the cruelty of life and how the elderly are treated in Britain. It was inspired by the time I spent with my grandmother in her care home when she had Dementia and Alzeihmers. It’s a stream of consciousness borderline script.
MRS BRUISED : “I’m tired”
“I’m tired”
CARD SHUFFLER: (throws his voice from a table on the left)
tired too.”“I’m
MRS BRUISED: (Sitting upright like a majestic, beaten up old queen)
“I’m tired”
CARD SHUFFLER: “Aye? Go to sleep then”
The room fans out into a full house of insidious laughter.
MISS CARDIGAN: excuse me Dear, can you tell me where the toilets I’ve only just popped by
THE WEED: ( Looks around for sign of a staffed house)
Of course just follow me….
(The weed walks back from the toilets and goes to crouch down to hold Mrs Thought Bubble’s hand).
THE WEED: She has pissed herself. Can someone change her?
THE ROSE: No- she hasn’t.
GINGER: Here you go. Open your mouth?
(Shovels a hefty spoonful of what looks like boiled bagged food)
Lost in thought……
(The smell of piss can’t be worse than death’s kiss…)
GINGER: Here- wah la! open your mouth.
Listen to thoughts of an animated Mrs Thought Bubble.

THE WEED: Tu es Pleine?
Like an old coffin opening for the first time in a century;
MRS THOUGHT BUBBLE: ( creeks out slowly)
Pleine
THE ROSE: ( Comes back from the kitchen with another full beaker of red diluted kids juice)
You are thirsty today.
So so thirsty.
Three empty beakers all lined up in a row – My eyes rest and are ready to aim – trigger happy and ready to blow.

THE WEED: She has pissed herself, look!
THE ROSE: Oh you have made a pee pee Mamie- a pee pee!
BABIES ARE SO CUTE. LISTEN TO HOW REGRESSION SOUNDS

Nodding.
A skeleton- face grinning .
Bright light beams from Mrs Thought Bubbles eyes.
An Image.
A carved pumpkin with a toothy grin.
Burning away in a dark room: within.
More strained laughter churning out lactic acid.
MRS BRUISED : (on a loop)
Oh ,I am tired.
BRUNETTE: Fiddler! Stop putting your hands down your pants.
Maybe that is the only way she gets to feel something.
Legs splayed- FIDDLER’S fingers exploring her vagina hungrily.
MRS BRUISED: I’m tired
CARD SHUFFLER: Yeah me too! Shut up.
Eyes veer to the table on the left.

Dying flowers in a glass vase.
If I had to throw it would reality become what I once knew it to be?
Jeer me on, why don’t you?
Throw the fucking vase.
Throw it!
How long have those silver wrapped chocolates been standing there? This is not some fancy New York hotel.
If they are going to start leaving chocolates make sure you get Hershey’s kisses.
Brown as the shit underneath Mrs Thought bubble’s nails.
THE WEED: She has pissed herself!
GINGER: I will go get dessert.
Does it come in different sex positions?
Sweet Silence.
One of the toughest spells to break.
No one dares look at the other.
Carers go a drift.
Congregate to conflate into gossip office politics.
THE ROSE: Go and tell them to change her.
The weed creeps along the floor until it has found the right door.
THE WEED: Can someone change Mrs Thought bubble! She is in her own piss.”
MRS HEGEMONY: Where’s nondescript and the other one too?
Great big sighs. A room full of eyes wondering if the pay they get is worth the time.
Time finally has a stroke and then another and another.
The hoist in all its bluesy hues comes for Mrs Thought-bubble .

GINGER: I’m sorry I got called into the office.
THE WEED: Look it’s not you. It’s just.. I am sitting watching Mrs Thought bubble over here, shout out…. and “she is wading in her own piss!
THE ROSE: Let’s go outside
THE ROSE: ( turns to BRUNETTE)
Can we take her outside?
BRUNETTE: ( a voice rolls out like a plush red carpet)
Of course.
( BRUNETTE rolls out the wheelchair – )
She hasn’t been outside in over a year.
She shouts and protests.
Vintage sunglasses are placed on her to help process her eyes.
Flowers.
Bees.
Sunshine.
Colours.
More shouts and protests.
MAINTENANCE: Do you want me to take a picture?
(THE WEED and THE ROSE in unison) Oh yes please.
CLICK !
CLICK!
Mature cheddar smiles captured against the vines.
THE WEED: I love you Mrs Thought-bubble.
Muffled sounds.
Feral.

I’ll settle for that as an good enough au revoir.
Four doors.
Four Windows.
Four wheels.
Taxi take us very fucking far away from here ,please.
THE WEED: Did you notice that nobody came to clean the chair?
THE ROSE: DON’T TELL ME THAT?
EVERY NIGHT I CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP!
IF WE MOVE HER AGAIN(pause) SHE WILL DIE.
PLEASE LET HER DIE
WHY?
WHY?
IT IS BEYOND MY UNDERSTANDING.
Petals start to turn inwards – it’s a crying shame to see a rose start to wilt.
RED CAP: There was a sticker attached saying ‘TO CLEAN’
THE WEED: Oh.
I’m sorry.
I love you , Rose.
I can’t imagine what you are going through.
THE ROSE: (Wilts that tiny bit more)
She doesn’t even know who I am anymore.
THE WEED: I know who you are.
You know who I am.
It doesn’t matter if the sun is shining- water will always ignore the air around it. If it wants to pour, it shall.
Tears pour.
Tears break.
The weed reaches and creeps until it has a secure grip around The Roses stem.
Hands entwined.
The Weed .
The Rose.
Both look out their own private window.
Bee would have loved to see that cow…..
THE ROSE: ( watered and ready to pose)
So tomorrow is a busy day. We have to sort out the cake
THE WEED: The cake?
THE ROSE: Daisy, the wedding cake? And We need to find Mr. Thought bubble an outfit for the wedding.
THE WEED: (grapples for breath)
Is she actually allowed to come?
THE ROSE: Madam Hegemony, says it is fine.
THE WEED: (flat)
Oh,Cool. I wonder did we tell the cake makers that we have changed the theme from sun flowers to yellow roses?
THE ROSE: (exasperated)
YES! We are just having yellow icing on normal flowers..
THE WEED: Oh… like the colour on our invitations?
Stationary.
THE ROSE: See you tomorrow.
THE WEED: (as an afterthought)
Mint,yes, tomorrow.
THE ROSE: 10:30, Don’t be late. We are getting threaded first.
Have you got The Bees shoes?
THE WEED: Yes Mam.
THE ROSE: I swear if you had loads of money in this town you still wouldn’t be able to spend it.
It’s all bullshit
From the horse’s mouth – let him narrate for this bit.
And so the earth continues to travel around the sun.
The sun goes down.
The moon is full faced and all fluttering eyelashes.
And I still have a long face.
Nothing but everything changes.
Nay,
Neigh!
Horses don’t talk.
Neither do flowers
Horse manure.
Bullshit.
Jut another day in ‘I wonder what the fuck next land?
Just an average day in an average Care home.

Dementia -merely human.

“I think that the only reason people hold onto memories so tight for so long is because memories are the only things that don’t change, even when people change..”   Unknown

This is a post that I  have wanted to write  for some time but my heart is still raw with pain. I’m comfortably numb as the song goes . No words I write can do justice to what this illness does to people we love.

We have had the plague

Chicken pox

Aids and HIV

Cancer.

The new cowboy in town in Dementia.

He has all the traits of the best cowboy in town

  • A steady hand

  • A look that says so much but not something you can be sure what it is thinking

  • It is true to it’s word

  •  It takes Pride in his work

  • A true perfectionist 

It doesn’t mind who it  consumes and takes out it the process.

This year DEMENTIA AWARENESS WEEK May 15-21  focuses on confronting your fears about Dementia.

The Alzheimers society is reaching out to give you support and information. You don’t have to fight this alone.  REACH OUT

I found this  – it captures how I feel whenever I see my Gran  and how helpless I feel.

giphy.gif

I’m going to show you some pictures of someone who has loved me for a long time.

But first

I must close my eyes

close-your-eyes-711.jpg

AGE : 15.

STATE: awake

LOCATION : Kitchen ( Gran’s home ) South Africa

Gran comes shuffling in to the kitchen

“Que ce qui pas?

“Can’t sleep”

“I will make you a camomile tea” in her French accent .

tumblr_m9802a4blk1qbdffto6_250.gif

She spent a lot of time and money putting me in rehabs and looking after me when I was growing up.

I am possibly the  first and only person to have seen my Gran cry  that I know of — I’m not proud but honoured she trusted in me.

AGE:18 years

STATE:  possibly drunk or hung over

LOCATION: Gran’s Bedroom France

Grandpa was  not doing well. My Gran broke down.

All I could do was hold her.

She knew Cancer and Chemo  was going to be the   un-doing of him.

 He still tried to look after his ‘Trois filles’ ( me, Mom and Gran) until his last breath.

The greatest love affair ever!  ❤

What a pair they made.

1456578_10201322923129108_84826039_n1452291_10201290371555339_508605083_n

Grandpa got a massive contract with Loreal in the 1950′ -1960’s . He was the main sales rep for promoting the  Loreal brand  in Africa.

They travelled everywhere

Madagascar

Zimbabwe

South Africa

to name a few.

Gran had spent most of her life travelling. Her father was a general in the army. Her step father some sort of captain and she spent a few years in the cote de ivory and other places.

They had 6 children together

29045_1283530093238_3139040_n29045_1283532253292_2034231_n

And two other sons who I don’t have pictures of. She was and still is the queen of the family.

So much elegance ,grace and charm. She suffered a lot of heart ache in her life. Lost love, her mother was jealous of her as were her two step sisters.

She was kicked out of her home when she was 16 years old and pregnant. She went on to become a femme de menage and a beautician to survive the streets of Paris..

When she met my grandfather she never had to worry about love or  money again. Even when he passed on  from Cancer. Her twin sons and my own mother  still  after her.

The relationship she had with my mother was unbreakable- even now. My Gran  still demands my mothers time and is happier when she has her to herself.

1466313_10201290366515213_1938018404_n1239893_10200914709844031_1011824834_n

This last picture was taken in 2012 -four years ago.  My Gran’s 79 th birthday

She loves to laugh and is still a social butterfly just like my Bella Bee-

10414409_10202487431721095_3402888420160500013_n.jpg

Alzheimers and Dementia does not discriminate.

A cold and bitter night in the U.K..

 The Wind screeched out  a name

A lady manages to fumble with the keys to a door and lets herself out. 

Where is she going?

No shoes,

a  flash of car lights, 

 Great big BULGING eyes

FLAP ,FLAP

 a night gown whips around the lady’s ankles 

She couldn’t live on her own any more. She was find walking the streets in her night clothes, by her carer ,at the time on the coldest night the U.K. had in 2013.

14549_10201767647137789_79685824_n

Gran in her new home – the first of three new care homes she would move to until the present.

This was a place with bells and whistles on. It was like a 5 ***** hotel.

In the few months she stayed here.

She was found sat in bed  drowning in her own piss.

She had spread faeces all over the walls and under her nails.

The home said she was too much trouble.

Funny, they didn’t have a problem with taking our families money for the few months she was there.

New home – two days until Gran’s 80th. Her twin sons came out to surprise her

DSC02325DSC02321

The day my Aunt died of lung cancer . My Mom got a call from her care home to say Granhad broken her hip. She spent 12 days in a normal hospital ward.. Always calling out. Neglected.

WAS THIS WHAT SHE SAW?

We thought we were going to lose her.

Three nurses,

A grand daughter,

A daughter.

a sedative

2 -3 hours

a struggle

Another sedative

FEAR

SCREAMS

SWEAT

PORES

TEETH EXPOSED – FERAL

EARS POUNDING

THIS SOUND      – my idea of Dementia raging  in audio.

She couldn’t speak but she could scream and lash out.

 I don’t  think I slept for 2 days after that event.

20239_1180503997650_4257563_n

Christmas 2009.

Gran  in hospital . The last time she would ever walk

10952253_10204024826795011_2495208433616930857_n

Gran loved to walk

249106_4981829188404_1951758711_n

Gran will never walk again.

11046586_10204261418029644_857127424023282605_n.jpg

She had to be moved to another  home that could meet her needs. No fancy hotel .

Gran’s 81st birthday

SAM_1911

I go see my Gran every week with my Mom. I take my daughter. I don’t want her to forget my Gran.

She went from speaking two languages, walking, laughing, taking pride in her appearance to this person.

To being a person who would blanche if she knew what she was like now.

Maybe she does and that is what makes her so angry still. 12728922_10206394372312168_9205953428105637055_n

12003006_10205561731456667_7489598297271091893_n

Yes, she screams and she can’t talk and she scares me sometimes because I don’t know what to do to help her; but she is still my Gran and she has a mental illness. 

IT IS NOT HER FAULT!

Her home she lives in now have really put quality over quantity. It;s not a show home -it is a home -home -check out  ROBERTS TOWN CARE HOME FB PAGE  .

The only people who have got my Gran to a place in her illness where she is  probably going to be able  to come to my wedding ceremony in June.

May is# MAKE MAY PURPLE   month.

Across the world May is the month for creating mental health awareness.

32553f2d75de37f029e1a5cae6e30418

Ghosts

Ghosts floating through the mansion of my mind. It may sound like a great thing to own a mansion as a mind.

I can tell you. It is a place that never sees sunshine, there is dust everywhere, the piano remains out of tune. Every room has something magnificent  to find

Dresses in one, jewels in the other, mothers little helpers pills scattered everywhere.

There is  always a ghost on standby ready to haunt me.. It’s like an old familiar melody.

I find no pleasure in any of these rooms. There are too many rooms, not enough signs and I am always losing myself in it.

Instead of running from my mind. I sit in the creaking rocking chair. Legs splayed,opening myself up to become possessed by anything .

They sit down on my favourite grey chaise longue and puff cigars that smell of lavender and twirl full bodied wine glasses filled  with  a deep maroon Beaujolais or a  chateux  neuf de pap.

I seem unable to move. I can’t move. If I could just ask them to leave .

One places a daisy chain on my head and tops up my glass of southern comfort. I’m sure I have stopped drinking. They know this as well as I do.

The irony is they are trying to make me live again. Drink if you must- anything to live, they urge….

This is their home. How can I cast them out?

They drain me, yes it is true, but they have been a part of my life, guarding me  when I was still  growing in my mothers womb.

I let them stay,

“SIT DOWN”., I say

Foreplay remnants stain the sheets on the various four poster beds. There is a new guy in town.

Has a bit of a opium habit. He hides away from everyone ,including me.

I have become desperate in my misery,

I seek him out .He won’t show himself.

I beg him to show me how. He can write the directions on a paper……

I think he cares. He doesn’t want me to go that far down.

 I think if I am so far down  the dragon’s pit;chasing ,what is a few more inches to the bottom?

Isn’t the bottom or top better than half way neither up or down?

I think he hid the ouija board too. He doesn’t want to be summoned because my will will break his……

In all honesty I think they all  want the best for me. Oh of course they have their own agenda’s too.

They know how down I am but they need to go on outings too. They get bored so I  get to be their cruise liner- my eyes are  their oval windows ,to peer outof, their   mode of transport, that shows them life still carries on  even if they can’t be an active  part of it.. ..

They called me a party pooper today. Sounds a bit lame.

They held a special party pooper party for me.

My least favourite party of all times- they all congregated in my drawing  room whistling and pulling crackers and the incessant chatter nearly drove me out of the house.

Usually, the louder they are the quicker I try to escape – This time they lucked out. They will not help me find Opium boy.

I only want to escape with him.

I will continue to follow his musky scent until another scent sends my pulse quickening.

Another ghost starts to ask:

“Why do you want to be dead when your heart still beats?”

“Oh fuck off and cross over – you can live in my mansion of a mind but I will not be questioned – my mind my rules.”  I reply

If I  had gone would I have lost the scent of Opium boy?

Would I have cared?

Usually when I chase a boy that needs saving , I get into trouble….

Tatiana – an ode

Today ,I wasn’t prepared though my gut knew better than to be not blase but scared.

A fleeting hope that the healers could give you a boost

The hardest decision was to accept that your time was up & I had to cut you loose.

I’m numb, guilty, wished I had you for a few more nights.

Allowing your sorrowful suffocating soul seconds more would add to this punishing plight & dreams of death – faeces, dead babies, deer, filthy flies and discarded driftwood souls drunk on flotsam

Waivered inner stengh; sight to ignite a courageous carcass of hope

Never mind , my Tatiana. You breathe free , unleashed from the God’s who wouldn’t let you rest.

You were too remarkable to ignore.

Your status has soared

A wing span of your choice.

These words don’t do justice

I love you

This is your eulogy

An ode to your life with no apology.

So cold,

so sweet ,

so fair…

Life and death
The mortal twins

The janus of the past , the future
You the triplet was my greatest present.

Family matters

The globe is always spinning and today we stop off in India.
SECRET TO HAPPINESS:  Appreciate the gift of family
TRADITION: Raksha Bandhan 
DATE : Full moon day in the Hindu month of Shraven ( mid July- August)
CELEBRATED: in India
This might sound like a bit of a contradictory post  on how to find happiness but happiness is not  about throwing yourself onto a bed of roses,  as aesthetically pleasing an image that that conjures.
Family is a bit of a broad topic.
I should know! I have two large families on both sides. I have a half-sister and step sister who I don’t have a strong relationship with. They both lives in South Africa, I live in the U.K. and well so much time has gone by.
My Dad and his wife and, my two nieces whom I don’t know, live there too. My Dad turned his back on me a long time ago.
 No pity.
From the age of 7, I knew that I did not take  any priority in his life. It was the same for my step sister.  When my Dad remarried to my stepmother -30 odd years ago  – they made some pact that the past is the past and for their own happiness; they would forget about everyone and everything to start  afresh ,build a new family and be happy.
I get this.
 There is is that old saying : ‘we can’t choose our family’.
 My Nan on my Dad’s side promptly reminded me of this yesterday.
I’ve always thought no matter how much my Dad’s side of the family, in all their numbers, hate my Mom’s side,(now than I am an adult they  have stopped pretending to like me and actively shun me too) in all of this: I  learned that the bond I have with my Nan could never be broken.
She looked after me from the age of 8-15 years . My Mom was ill and in hospital for many years. My Dad and Nan (mainly when she drank) and my step mother always put my mother down. It has taken a long time but me and my Mom have dealt with the past and  have a remarkable relationship now.
Yes, we all have strong personalties in  our families that clash. That is a given. Who else knows us so well than the people from past? the people we grew up with?
The thing is that not all of us were our real selves when in our past. Drugs and illness may have hid our personalities.
Neglect -physical and emotional can also make a person very confused.
I don’t blame my upbringing for my decisions in the past but I do think it influenced my actions to a degree.
Ultimately, we choose our own path. There are laws that decide 18, 21 or 25 years is the time span long enough to learn and be accountable for our actions. Morally, this may not be something I agree with completely.
I do feel that the adults in our lives (usually family)are our teachers. I’ve been taught good and bad things (in a variety of contexts) from the role models in my life or lack of them. Their absence can also make an impact on how we decipher our way into the world.
Where we decide is our place in the world.
In India, an annual celebration takes place to honour the relationship of brothers and sister- I quite like the English translation of ‘Raksha Bandhan’- ‘ the bond of protection’.
On this day, brothers and sisters come together and celebrate their blood connection and take the time to appreciate one another. The tradition is: that each brother is made  what is called a ‘rhaki’- a bracelet made out of cotton or silk which is tied on the right wrist of every brother- a symbol -of ‘affection’, love’ and ‘protection of love’.
Sisters a given beautiful gifts and  brothers  bless their sisters and promise  to protect their sisters fro the up coming year ahead.
This tradition starts from childhood.
Not everyone has a brother or sister,so other family come from all four globes of the world to unite and keep the tradition up and honour it.
‘Friends come and go’ -we say, but family is always connected to us by blood.
Family
Here’s the the contradictory part of the post.
For most of my life I know that my Nan has always had my back. I know that she is the person who taught me to keep in contact with my own sister and family. I learnt by experience, if we fought, nothing would break the love and bond we have.
I had to make a tough decision yesterday.
A lesson I  possibly learnt from my own fathers absence.
I’m having struggles with my own illness. I am constantly having to fight to have time to be with my Nan
 Her family get jealous by  any time we spend together.  They don’t understand why or how my Mom and Nan  can still have a strong bond and relationship because my Mom is the the ex-wife.
They don’t understand.
In all truth, they may be called ignorant.
My Mom and I have been ill for many years and have been ostracised for this.
We are in a better place these days.
My Nan went on holiday to see my Dad and sister and my nieces in November for three months in 2015. In that time,my Mom,my partner and I have worked together in harmony to make sure our wedding day will be unforgettable.
My Nan has a strong personality. This usually reveals the trait of one who needs to control. Control, unfortunately,  brings out the worst in people.
 I know this from my own past experiences in trying to orchestrate everything and everybody in my life.
I was manipulative – I had to be to get what I wanted!
 My Nan is no different from others who seek to control – in her tactics- to get her way.
My Nan is a good woman- with flaws. The biggest is making me feel guilty for everything.
Yes, she looked after my daughter for 16 months while social services were in my life. I got rid of the toxic people in my life, I bucked up my ideas and fought and I proved that I am a good a enough  mother (to social services, family, judges – and the whole unwanted entourage that came with socials services)
I have done my time.
I don’t know how many times I can say I am thankful to my Nan, how many gifts I can buy her.
I do know that I won’t make to feel indebted to her for the rest of my life.
She looked after me too. She has looked after many of her families children over the years.
Always feeling used, under-appreciated by every parent of whichever child she was caring for. Be it a few hours or a few years.
This doesn’t come across as a happy post but it is. I know it is a long post. Please try to bear with me.
 My Nan has been back from South Africa  for less than two weeks and harmony has gone out the window. I don’t think she can get her head around the fact that we have managed to sort our wedding with my ‘weak’ ‘fragile minded’ mothers help. It feels like, to me and my partner, that all we have received is little digs. Small, but enough to make an impact.
I  had to make the decision to leave her with her family.
I deserve happiness.
We all do.
I’m not willing to be drawn into parlour games:
Comparisons of how well off and how much better my Dad’s side of the family is.
Or,
how she has to go on another holiday to get over the time she had in South Africa.
A lot of negatives were said.
No positives.
 I love her. No buts.
I do also have to put my happiness and my daughters and my partner and my Mom’s happiness before hers.
She has a lot of support from her family. Well, she does until she has had a fight with them. Sound familiar?
 Thing is I’m fed up of it.
DRAMA!
 Last night I was so upset and drained, I couldn’t do anything I enjoy doing like  being with my family, reading, blogging, reading blogs
I want a peaceful life as possible.
I will not allow the past to repeat itself with certain ways in how certain family members made an impression on me. I will gladly take responsibility for anything good and bad that happens while I parent my child and any children we have.
There will be no playing one of the other.
“DAISY! (you cry) WHERE IS ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THIS POST?”
Good question.
Please bear with me, I have a message and a task – one I need to challenge myself to do too.
 Can you think of something special you used to do with someone in your family?
My Nan and I devour books and love literature and writing. She inspired me to write and pushed me to develop any hidden talent. This post wouldn’t be here- crystallised, if it weren’t for her rooting for me over the years.
Is there some kind of meaningful ritual you could create to celebrate and strengthen your unique bond?
I would love to make it a regular occasion to got to the theatre with my Nan or  join a book /writing club together with her.
“HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO THIS DAISY? YOU HAVE REJECTED YOUR NAN IN FAVOUR OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS?”
True, for the next 12 weeks I need peace and harmony.
Like I said before, friends may come and go, our family are always connected to us.
Time to put my big boots on.
MESSAGE: Never forget the safe haven your family members created – no matter how flimsy and dysfunctional. They were doing what they could with the best resources they had to navigate their own path.
Some of my happiest memories are those with my Nan.
Never forget that family can be the source of some of life’s happiest moments. Relationships do break down but I have a strong bond with my Nan and in time I hope we can reconnect.
I was going to attempt to make amends after the wedding.
No, today. I will make amends. She will take my daughter to ballet and tap as she does most weeks and we will all meet up afterwards  and go and sort out the wedding cake as planned,
 I need peace and harmony for the next 12 weeks. It doesn’t mean I love her any less.  Last nights decision was made because I only know what is best for that moment. I have not closed the door on any of my family for good.
Today I make amends. Life is too short.  Always try and keep a small space reserved in your heart for wiser times in your life and you will find peace and happiness.

Lady dancer part 2

I love you to the moon🌙 and back, you say.

Wonder how I can express the weight of my heart 💗

For all that you are

To me.

Each moment you’ve made me laugh

Each moment you’ve made me cry 🧚‍♂️

Smile 😀

I’ve learnt to reassess my own journey.

Your gracious frolic💃 with life

Your gaiety

Your gentle approach

Rhenders me dumb founded

Confounded to

Compare the gravity 🌎of all you are to me

I’d have to look up for an eternity

Of starry stars 🌟of memories you’ve shared are incalculable.

Remarkable

10 years of Bella- bee isms

10 years a double digit daughter.

Happy birthday 🎂 to the only star of clarity I’ve named as my own

Kind

of hope I can be that mother you recall as home.

I’ve always been a chancer

A blessed paid off risk to witness you take the lead as my little lady dancer 🕺

Each pinkie promise fulfilled

Is a glimpse into a paradise undistilled.

I love you 🐝

For the doubters..

If it you could see what others do. You have always let doubt confuse your idea of who and what you are capable of.

I have always known you to be beautiful in all ways and I have learnt and felt you loyalty pride and strength of character. We some how picked one another and I drew a good hand.

You are the best kind of romantic and that quality needs to be nurtured and not be exploited by those who don’t understand your story and how you got to the person you are today. There are plenty of people who are not worth the bother, believe me, don’t believe me. I think you know that.

The past is way back over there. These are exciting times. Now,the future. Some of the best years of your life are waiting to be lived. You can afford to be picky. You deserve someone to ‘hug you so hard they will put all your pieces back together’.

Don’t let ass holes or wankers ruin today and the future for you. There is a lesson to be learned from everything we do and experience.

Yes, it is easy to pick out the negatives but on the plus side -you are free, you have been incarcerated, masks has dropped revealed the truth that cannot be covered up any-more, don’t take it personally. You were honest form the beginning. Take pride in that. Hold your head up high.

This is a new page, a fresh book even. You need as much light and love as possible to create the magic you want. You have not wasted time if you have taken some time to do a bit of searching within and decided what to take with you into this day and what discard what has left you high and dry in the past. I read somewhere that the thoughts we think are mantras and a form of prayer.

Be aware of what your thoughts are saying they may just turn into your reality. Take the time to find out what you are wanting from your life.

There is so much out there. There is something so rare about you. Life can be cruel but you have remained gentle and kind and it shows. You are one of the toughest people I know.

Please do not be mistaken that I think you are weak. Far from it. We are making good experiences and only the best people should be allowed to come on that journey, don’t you think?

Don’t shun all people thinking everyone is like the last person you shared your heart with. Don’t harden -don’t clam up. You are able to re define your world on your terms.

Love as much as ever. To love is never a fault. To love the wrong person is easily done when some one is not upfront with you from the beginning or who breaks your trust.
BELIEVE!

Believe that there is magic and you are creating it. Shake off the doubts and smile, glow, be who you are.

There is no fault to be found in you. I I have so much repect for you and admire you.

So many really do BELIEVE! do what must be done so that you can close this door and open to a new day.

Ex communication of self hatred

Shun not what you fear to understand

Don’t stigmatize the most inherent part in you; what makes you human!

Embrace each emotion &feelings.

My belief is if we hide our so called darker sides makes that part of our character stronger and unbalanced

Lessen that burden, become whole:

Be the full rainbow spectrum despite what your favourite colour is…

There is more to us than nuances of shady blacks & untouched white.

We have a choice to give in to or resist emotions that merely reflect we we are in our journey in life.

No journey is stagnant

No feeling is permanent.

Why are some emotions or feelings seen as bad or good? Aren’t they all important and deserve to be felt.

Nothing is stagnant.

It’s our fundamental nature to feel.

To question.

What do we do with our emotions ?

Our feelings and thoughts , what do we do with them?

Extract what you need in moderation?

This is not a comforting answer is it?

What is your answer ?

Can I have a sugar daddy?

Aaaaaaaaargh! I have been putting off this post for a while. I mean the one guy

You were the first real man I knew  not some boy but a real man.

I tell myself I have dealt with the indifference. Yet, as soon as I find a way to make contact again. I let all my pride go and open my heart and soul to you. I do it publicly on social media websites. I end up looking pathetic but I don’t care.

I post things like:

I hope you will forgive me  one day so  we can build up a better relationship

or I  tag you hoping you will comment back.

I am looking after your queen. I won’t let you down. 

 I comment on those silly quizzes you do  that pop up on Facebook, like

WHAT NATIONALITY SHOULD YOU BE? –

 ME: You got you look like a Spaniard – haha!  funny I got I should be  American (silence)

New comment from a friend:  I got Portuguese 

You to friend : you look Portuguese

I don’t want anything from you . Okay that is a lie. I only want a bit of your time, a few words once a few years.

She warned me not to go there again. I wasn’t prepared to have my heart  broken again.Well, not broken but pumping with less voracity than before.

I know I wasn’t the most affable of characters all those years back. I mean what did I know at 12, 15 years old? 24 years old ?  Not much.

Yet, that was when you first turned your back on me.

I know I have mental health issues and to you it’s all just,

DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA

 A heads up? It’s not been a fucking picnic or tropical island holiday for me either.

Do you ever think about me?

What do you feel when you look at a picture of me? Do you look at pictures of me?

Are you so distant with everyone?  We’ve been drunk and stoned together and you are a legend at Karaoke . Over the years, I  have seen how you make everyone laugh…

Why don’t you talk to me when I Skype? I know I fall way down the bottom of  the  hierarchy chain of the many  girls in your life.

 To have a slice of your heart…

Well, of what is left to give. Is that what it is? You haven’t got any more heart to give?

I don’t want much… a few words, a phone call – no maybe that is too much..

Okay ,what about a teeny tiny interest in my life on social media perhaps… You live so far away  and it’s my only source of contact.

Why do you reply to other peoples comments on what you post but not mine?

Why don’t you reply to my emails?

I’m  not bad. I’m actually a fucking awesome person. Why can’t the past stay where it is.

Don’t judge me.

I don’t judge you.

I thought I had closed the door on ever having a chance with you again. I opened it again three months ago,, feeling we were in a more equal position. Me being older and you being older – wiser they say..

Never mind, I have  googled the meaning for indifference again and read it out loud,to  remind myself.

I can’t make you love me or want to contact me. I know you are going through hard times – if you must know-

we all do .

Maybe if you decided to chat properly with me I could make you laugh. We may find out we have more in common than you think.

Done with this post.  Finally got it out of my head. I can move on again.

No blame.

Never blame.

I am an adult and I choose to be happy.

I don’t resent you.

I am curious to know you.

am sure if you let me closer, you would find I actually like you and love you- unconditionally.

But it is cool.

You are over there and I am over here.

Living our lives.

Your blood runs through my veins.

 Nothings changed and that is cool too.

Indifference it is then, dad.

The beast that is nature

It’s mental health awareness week in the U.K.

This time last year I  was in a coma after trying to take my life-again. I woke up 9 days later on my mom’s birthday. I don’t  think I  have come to terms with the fact that I am still alive. These past fews days  my mental health has been deteriorating and I’m  trying my hardest to fight these sodding demons in my head.
I’ve  been feeling suicidal again. I have everything to live for.
It doesn’t  mean the thoughts go away.
I fight my battles every single day and I  reach  out even if its to get away from my head  for a few minutes.
I can’t  have a head transplant or swap my head with some one else for an hour.
Self medicating rarely works or makes me feel good so I  push myself to reconnect with life in different ways again.

It’s  mental health awareness week and maybe by being in nature , trying to get out of my head may help.
Maybe by just going through the motions even though my thoughts carry on chattering  away it doesn’t matter. The act and the intention is what matters.
For a few moments I’m  distracted by some other nature that isn’t my own…
Suicide isn’t the answer. I will carry in telling myself this until I  believe it.

My story hasn’t ended.. life has a greater purpose, I
#mentalhealth  #mentalhealthmatters  #mentalhealthawarenessmonth