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Old soul

OTHER WORDLY .

Unfathomable to relate how a portrait of an unaffected cherub

mirrors

a forgotten dimension to

the paradigm LONER.

PENSIVE – angelic eyes

unfreeze momentarily — expressions animate the oil painted canvas.

Voice barely audible -mouths out to me

Who is this new persona?

Blood of my labour sworn to tell the gospel TRUTH.

Astonished -wrinkles crease — at time ‘s wildfulness to penetrate her innocence—

She’s not looking back at her youth.

BULLIED

The cycle continues-

Elders blame the outsider for a lack of faith in conventional —Spirituality.

ELDER peers down through an intoxicating incensed haze.

Measure me up.

Squares me up.

On humble grounds

I stand a full head above her broad shoulders.

Closer to her divine maker

pious prayers hail down

the blame game

the name game.

Tortured soul seeker

Scarpers for the licks of hell’s flames.

trips over underwood

poltergeists log a strategic placed guilt ambush

rotting the core of this circle of life’s CONTINUITY.

AUTHORITY ISSUES.

Time will decide whether we are cosmic twins born 3 decades APART.

This is her descent  to destiny .

roughly sketched into this world-

pallid , charcoal smudged into silence.

An artist confronted with his frailty to conceive life.

Mourns the leftover clots of a being.

Miscariage – remnants of nurture -a mere puddle of blood outlining his corrosive flaw.

A splattering of colours, tears stained by remorse.

a howl of def toned melancholy

The artist sips a cup of penny total tea.

recomposed.

A sighed relief-

she has -AWAKENED.

ALONE – – is she fated too?

-The rebels never conforms

Transience

Stricken by the awareness of my own

MORTALITY.

 INQUISITIVE betrayed by her translucence

frown rouges her cheeks in introspection.

familiar strange words

Alienation effect prompts a impulsive turn around

the past

curses

damning this  loner to truly see.

An epiphany of divine INSIGHT

UNDER or OVER ACHIEVER perfection adorned with feathers of liberty –

don’t try to please anyone!

A storm intervenes obscuring the BIGGER PICTURE-

Save that energy

for life

is a gift and

It’s your greatest fight.

RESPONSIBLE for so much — tempted by earth’s seasonal affective disorder

Why does she have to be mortal?

Wings hook into shoulder blades

Reduced to a puppet attached by silver linings.

aerial view-

panoramic

circular murmuration

obsessive.

Eyes strain ,blood shot.

Wind exhales mustard peppered vapours

orchestrating sight to follow a new PERSPECTIVE.

WISDOM revealed by the crooked halo’d questions

glitterer

shimmers her every inflection.

the yearn of experience — to keep heavens babe toothless , unaware of the survival evolution taking place

Within.

TENACIOUS – I overlook her every smile

from above

stitched up my heart

remains

the scapegoat

the seeker.

until a moment forces me to find a burial ground

Unwillingly close my eyes –

the universe screeches –velocity erases all time.

Formless parts full up spaces amongst the dirt.

await for these settlers to wipe all memory from this life.

Old souls are never alone for eternity.

We have one another to rise above our hurt.



knowledge is power, wisdom is happiness and truth is freedom

The neglected child

There are many types of Child Abuse 

Emotional Abuse can be hard to spot and is easy to miss the signs. 

  • humiliating or constantly criticising a child-

 When my Mom was in a Domestic Violent Relationship with my ex step father he would constantly tell me I was chubby, too clingy.

  • threatening, shouting at a child or calling them names
  • making the child the subject of jokes, or using sarcasm to hurt a child
  • blaming and scapegoating

My ex -step father would shout at me for wanting to be close to my mom. He would drag me into my bedroom -my mom would stick up for me and she would get the brunt of my tantrums, clinginess, my eating issues.

  • making a child perform degrading acts
  • not recognising a child’s own individuality or trying to control their lives
  • pushing a child too hard or not recognising their limitations

My ex step father’s idea of teaching me how to swim was to grab hold go me, jump into the swimming pool and stay under the water until I thought I would pas out. He would do this as a joke in front of his friends and laugh at me for being so scared. I was 5 years old

  • exposing a child to upsetting events or situations, like domestic abuse or drug taking

My ex step father used to beat my mom up regularly because she dared to challenge him for cheating on her constantly ,for getting a 15 year old pregnant. He was always high and there were always parties going on with strange men and women around. I used to try and defend my mom until I became too afraid. I used to barricade myself in my bedroom. I would wait until he came home from work and hide under the bed. 

  • failing to promote a child’s social development
  • not allowing them to have friends
  • persistently ignoring them

I felt like my life was irrelevant. I wasn’t worth anything. I remember having an argument with my mom. She was struggling with her Mental health and the abuse. She came home from work when I was 5/6 years old. I was dressed up in her wedding dress and having fun. She screamed at me to get out her room .She was crying, I didn’t want to be away from her. She locked me out of the room because I started to have a tantrum. I went to the kitchen and got a knife out of the drawer and went to her bedroom door and yelled I was going to stab myself if she didn’t open the door. No reply. I heard her crying. I felt alone and that I couldn’t help her.

  • being absent

When I felt helpless and angry. I would act out. I would binge on food, wet the bed conrantly and go and sleep with the dogs in the kitchen. I recall one day feeling so worthless and useless that I couldn’t make my mom better or please my ex step father that I packed a suitcase falloff toys and clothes. I needed to get away. I walked down the driveway (to my child self -it looked like I was walking a long way from home),  When I reached the end of the driveway I looked left, right, I looked across the road and I thought to myself: What do I do now? I prayed that a car with two nice people would stop and pick me up and take me away from where I was. That didn’t happen. I had to accept my defeat and I walked back up the drive way angry. No body knew I had disappeared and I didn’t get the attention I wanted.

  • manipulating a child

Manipulation can be so subtle. I recall a time when my mom had found out about another affair that my ex stepfather had. He turned up from work with a puppy for me. I was over the moon. 

  • never saying anything kind, expressing positive feelings or congratulating a child on successes
  • never showing any emotions in interactions with a child, also known as emotional neglect.

BEHAVIOUR PROBLEMS

  • wanting attention or becoming clingy

I never wanted to leave my moms side. I refused to go to school. I would have tantrums and do anything to be heard.

  •    not caring how they act or what happens to them

I became a child who started walking home from school on my own from 5/6 years old. I remember a group of older boys pushing me about and touching my breasts and vagina. 

  • trying to make people dislike them

I didn’t feel very likeable or good about myself so I pushed people away from me. I didn’t feel Could trust people and even today I will show people the worst parts of me to protect myself.

  • developing risky behaviour, like stealing, bullying or running away.

The first time I stole anything was a 5 rand note from my mom so I could buy myself and people in my class sweets at the tuck shop. My ex step father refused to allow me to eat sweets because I was too ‘chubby’. I ran away from home many times as a teenager to get away from my mom when I was a teenager and my Nan and my Dad who refused to acknowledge me. I didn’t want my family to dictate to me. I didn’t want them to tell me they knew what was best for me. I wanted to escape and drugs and being around strange men seemed like the right answer.


There are many types of Child Abuse 

Emotional Abuse can be hard to spot and it is easy to miss the signs. 

humiliating or constantly criticising a child-

 When my Mom was in a Domestic Violent Relationship with my ex step father he would constantly tell me I was chubby, too clingy.

threatening, shouting at a child or calling them names

making the child the subject of jokes, or using sarcasm to hurt a child

blaming and scapegoating

My ex -step father would shout at me for wanting to be close to my mom. He would drag me into my bedroom -my mom would stick up for me and she would get the brunt of my tantrums, clinginess, my eating issues.

making a child perform degrading acts

not recognising a child’s own individuality or trying to control their lives

pushing a child too hard or not recognising their limitations

My ex step father’s idea of teaching me how to swim was to grab hold go me, jump into the swimming pool and stay under the water until I thought I would pas out. He would do this as a joke in front of his friends and laugh at me for being so scared. I was 5 years old

Exposing a child to upsetting events or situations, like domestic abuse or drug taking

My ex step father used to beat my mom up regularly because she dared to challenge him for cheating on her constantly ,for getting a 15 year old pregnant. He was always high and there were always parties going on with strange men and women around. I used to try and defend my mom until I became too afraid. I used to barricade myself in my bedroom. I would wait until he came home from work and hide under the bed. 

failing to promote a child’s social development

not allowing them to have friends

persistently ignoring them

I felt like my life was irrelevant. I wasn’t worth anything. I remember having an argument with my mom. She was struggling with her Mental health and the abuse. She came home from work when I was 5/6 years old. I was dressed up in her wedding dress and having fun. She screamed at me to get out of her room .She was crying, I didn’t want to be away from her. She locked me out of the room because I started to have a tantrum. I went to the kitchen and got a knife out of the drawer and went to her bedroom door and yelled I was going to stab myself if she didn’t open the door. No reply. I heard her crying. I felt alone and that I couldn’t help her.

Being absent

When I felt helpless and angry. I would act out. I would binge on food, wet the bed constantly and go and sleep with the dogs in the kitchen. I recall one day feeling so worthless and useless that I couldn’t make my mom better or please my ex step father that I packed a suitcase full of  toys and clothes. I needed to get away. I walked down the driveway (to my child self -it looked like I was walking a long way from home),  When I reached the end of the driveway I looked left, right, I looked across the road and I thought to myself: What do I do now? I prayed that a car with two nice people would stop and pick me up and take me away from where I was. That didn’t happen. I had to accept my defeat and I walked back up the driveway angry. Nobody knew I had disappeared and I didn’t get the attention I wanted.

manipulating a child

Manipulation can be so subtle. I recall a time when my mom had found out about another affair that my ex stepfather had. He turned up from work with a puppy for me. I was over the moon. 

never saying anything kind, expressing positive feelings or congratulating a child on successes

never showing any emotions in interactions with a child, also known as emotional neglect.

SIGNS OF EMOTIONAL ABUSE IN OLDER CHILDREN

use language you wouldn’t expect them to know for their age

act in a way or know about things you wouldn’t expect them to know for their age

struggle to control their emotions

have extreme outbursts

seem isolated from their parents

lack social skills

have few or no friends.

EFFECTS OF EMOTIONAL ABUSE

BEHAVIOUR PROBLEMS

wanting attention or becoming clingy

I never wanted to leave my mom’s side. I refused to go to school. I would have tantrums and do anything to be heard.

   not caring how they act or what happens to them

I became a child who started walking home from school on my own from 5/6 years old. I remember a group of older boys pushing me about and touching my breasts and vagina. 

Trying to make people dislike them

I didn’t feel very likeable or good about myself so I pushed people away from me. I didn’t feel Could trust people and even today I will show people the worst parts of me to protect myself.

Developing risky behaviour, like stealing, bullying or running away.

The first time I stole anything was a 5 rand note from my mom so I could buy myself and people in my class sweets at the tuck shop. My ex step father refused to allow me to eat sweets because I was too ‘chubby’. I ran away from home many times as a teenager to get away from my mom when I was a teenager and my Nan and my Dad who refused to acknowledge me. I didn’t want my family to dictate to me. I didn’t want them to tell me they knew what was best for me. I wanted to escape and drugs and being around strange men seemed like the right answer.

EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT PROBLEMS

feeling, expressing and controlling emotions

lacking confidence or causing anger problems

finding it difficult to make and maintain healthy relationships later in life

higher levels of depression and health problems as adults compared to those who experienced other types of child abuse.

MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS

mental health problems, including depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts

I went on to develop serious mental health issues. I developed social anxiety from a young age.  My first suicide attempt was at 12 years old

Eating disorders

I became obsessed with my weight. I couldn’t deal with my weight issues and I started taking diet tablets at the age of 15 years old. I abused cocaine and mandrax and ecstasy -any drug to stop me from thinking about food. I used to demand my mother take me to doctors to prescribe diet pills for me even though I was thin. I had huge problems and I eventually developed Chronic anorexia. I was sectioned twice in the U.K.   In 2007 I developed Bradycardia. My BMI was 14. My weight was 39 kilograms. I wanted to die. 

Self-harm

I don’t know why I felt the need to cut my legs in my Nan’s kitchen when I was 12/13. I didn’t know how else to express myself. When I lost my virginity to a guy who had left his ex and promised to date me and be with me. The next night his ex, myself and him were in his car and he chose his ex over me. I flipped. I couldn’t deal with the pain, the headache and I cut myself with a bottle neck and became uncontrollable. 

language development

problems forming healthy relationships.

If you want to help someone who is being abused in all its forms or to help someone who is self harming.

At the peak of clarity

And ,

at  the peak of her insanity

A moment to glance away from this  reflection gunning down with its eyes of La Mort

if she could see past the discombulated figures

Deflect

An outline

of

fear and self-loathing will

dissolve

A moment of clarity

my child in her stark purity dancing in front of the mirror.

Find her standing motionless

pick up the comb, attend to her dutifully

This reflection

This motion is fuelled by a fierce love.

A fierce love distorted by fragments

by her own mother’s dysmorphia

The same mother who flees from her Self every day.

If this is not a demonstration of love

then it is a moment of clarity

A reality  of her creation

Sweet bitter

A tipple

Tears or bourbon

No longer certain

Does it matter?

Then it is a moment of clarity.

Entry three

Lo and behold!

(A slightly dramatic introduction). However, it’s inspired me to write about my recipe for kindness. I went to pick up B from school and she thrust a pamphlet in my hand.

It’s magic,mom! Ok , I realised the reason she thinks it is magic:it is a map that requires a powerful

ancestor with a great recipe to fold it back up to it’s neat , once untouched form.

The theme: believe in yourself! I read this first activity and realised I need to do this activity more than my daughter does.

Kindess.

Kindness. Why not bake a cake of kindness ? Add your own ingredients?

If I had to bake my own cake of kindness this is the recipe:

4 TBSP’s of no shit taken off people who don’t reiprocate your kindness wirh the respect you value.

A generous helping of be kind to those you say no to.

3 drops of mouth sealant essence. We are born with 2 ears and 1 mouth.

Surely listening and then (filtering our words) answering is a better way of communicating because responding is more effective than reacting. Reacting is reactive. Too many reactions can become radio active. An explosion and a recipe for an unkindly disaster.

4x cherries dipped in sherbet (tart and sweet) to remind myself and others that I can be sweet most of the time but if my sweetness means they forget to sugar their cake then they may lose all of their teeth when I sweetly give them another tangy aftertaste they aren’t expecting.

The icing can’t be too fussy or too messy. Plenty colouring of all the colours I can find in my kitchen to show my values and beliefs respect all cultures, religions, genders and the rest.

1 x candle lit in the middle of the cake. So, that people who are tempted to indulge in my recipe for kindness, remember that my kindness cake will lose charm and taste if the candle dies out by being watered down or worn down with unproductive critism, respect for the effort I put into making a cake of kindness.

A solid sponge base with the ability to absorb peoples different opinions and views. It will be slightly dry to convey my dry sense of humour. Add a dollop of butter or cream ( adjust portion as needed) to subtly suggest a flavour that reminds other people that my kindness is an act based in reality My reality. Oh, and a degree of sympathy /empathy at the very least.

My dry remarks and after taste can be tempered by adjusting the measures of butter and cream to soften my natural essence of character.

The final impression I would want to leave with baking a kindness cake is :I accept that we all have different tastess and degrees of what a great kindess cake tastes like. I promise not to take another slice of another person’s kindess if it doesn’t conform to my ideals of the perefect cake. I don’t expect to force fed others another slice of my kindess if it doesn’t suit them.

Peer pressure

My pain is an insufferable spurt of growth as your own

If I led you into my darkness

Would you you identify me as your own?

Or dispose of me if I were to say no?

The life and celebration of one Bella Bee

It was 13/10/2011. Icelandic temperatures in the U.K. We had zero cash and I was not afraid. Everyone around me; My Nan, my Mom and my Aunt were giving me advice and asking me questions.

“Have a bath. Have sex. Have a curry. Have a bath. Have a … inundated with many opinions and suggestions

My daughter was still not due until a week later. In one week I had had three stretch and sweeps. My Nan had to give us money for fuel to get back to the hospital. After my lovely bath, I went to lie down but I felt rather contrary and decided to check back into the hospital. The midwives said I still had at least 5 cm to go.

So we trudged back into our car for the seemingly long journey home. 10 minutes into the drive home, I felt something that I thought could be a contraction. It wasn’t painful but it was consistent. and it was a real ‘feeling’. I turned to my Nan and said I think I may be contracting. The car swerved and headed back to the hospital. At the hospital, the contractions started to pick up in intensity (not sore just an ‘alien’ feeling). The nurses led me to a room and said they would be back with all their midwifery gear. My Mom and my Aunt arrived.

By this time I was going into panic mode because I didn’t know what to expect. I demanded my drugs and started hitting the gas and air (That was all I asked for). If only I knew how ill too much would make me. I sat on this massive pink blobby ball, bobbing up and down like a confused Buddha. Mom was massaging my shoulders like I was in the wrestler’s seat ready for round one in the ring. DING! DING! DING!

Out of nowhere, I had the urge to get to the toilet. I don’t want to be vulgar though the feminist in me wants to flip the bird and give all the gory details. We need to get over the fact that birth can be ugly.

Moving on. This immense pressure hit me and it felt like I needed a shit. REALITY PEOPLE! Though, it wasn’t the same feeling like the usual order of the bathroom purge. I ran/made a move to go to the toilet and I sat down on it. My mom followed suit and said to me,

” No grandchild of mine is going to be born on the toilet” so she and my aunt took an arm each and propped me up and headed in the direction of the bed.

I got on the bed and screamed out what I needed to do. I wanted to push.

“PUSH” they cried.

Okay…. so I pushed really hard. I heard my Mom say,

” I can see her shoulders, push! “

I gave one almighty push that started from my head (with thoughts of ‘ one more push’ ‘body will obey’) One more push and it was ‘SHOWTIME’, I felt her shoot out of me. A chill stirred by my snakelike placenta laying frigid in between my legs. No cry. The midwives burst in at this moment with a Spanish inquisition manner of urgency about them. All tooled up for their big moment.

“We need to pierce the placenta.”

My little girl was born in the full sac. My body didn’t even have enough time to send a message to tell my bodywaters you may now burst’.

Still no cry. Then a tiny mew of a cry and they placed her on my chest for a nanosecond and then took her away to make sure she was in top form. They took my girl to another ward to observe her breathing and to make sure the medication I take had not affected her in any way. The midwives broke my waters!

My Mom and Aunt were clapping like a bunch of sea lions and then kissed me on the top of my head and dashed out of the hospital to catch a bus to London! I almost looked around for any discarded popcorn.

I did grab for the gas and air because my daughter had torn me and I needed to be stitched all the way around like a hem of a skirt. I needed some post-labour-pain relief. The whole drive back to the hospital and the labour lasted less than three hours. My baby girl was born on the 13/10/2011 at 03:15 a.m.

All the other Mom’s were super jealous. The easiest birth ever. The worst part was actually having to go to the toilet and not scream out in pain when my stitches had been so cruelly awoken. She has never been a hassle from her birth right up to her fourth birthday. She is such

a placid kid, she is always smiling from morning till night. She tells people they are beautiful and she comments on what people are wearing. She sings and dances. She shares. She is so courageous. There is an old wives tale that children born in the placenta sac are ‘special’. Centuries ago men travelling at sea would wear a part of the sac around their neck as a talisman – it was thought that it would give them protection and stop them from drowning at sea.

So much has happened in my daughter’s 8 years on this planet. People expected you to act like some feral child but no you are the most chilled, charismatic, hilarious, intuitive and smart child I know. I see you blossom and I blossom too. When I hug you to my chest that connection. That surge of emotion puts everything in perspective.

I LOVE YOU!

Our pinkie promise: I promise to love you forever and ever and I will never stop loving you and you will always be my baby girl, pinkie promise.

I know a special girl whose heart is full of sunshine
She dances her way around the world to deliver her own special punchline

She laughs so distinctly that people cannot help but become infected
It is a sight to behold when this observation is detected

She is gracious and kind and is delicately inclined
the phrase 'she is an angel' are the only words that come to mind

Her name means beautiful-that  of body, mind and soul
and to have her touch so many lives confirms her title role

She is my modern day princess -so noble and full of grace
I love her with all my being and she is a person that I cannot replace 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet child. You are the true gift
I found it in your innocent eyes and that was the day my world truly began to shift

A special girl

I know a special girl whose heart is full of sunshine .

She dances her way around the world to deliver her own special punchline

She laughs so distinctly that people cannot help but become infected

It is a sight to behold when this observation is detected She is gracious and kind and is delicately inclined the phrase ‘she is an angel’ are the only words that come to mind .

Her name means beautiful-that of body, mind and soul and to have her touch so many lives confirms her title role.

She is my modern day princess -so noble and full of grace I love her with all my being and she is a person that I cannot replace

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet child. You are the true gift I found it in your innocent eyes and that was the day my world truly began to shift.

Dumbing down the English language

#tfw That Feeling when your daughter starts dropping in text language in everyday conversation. 😮

Bee’s latest is EYE DEE KAY. This is the point where (IDK)  I realise we are dumbing down our future generations & that we are forgetting to appreciate literature & artistic works. It sounds like language from a dystopian ” fiction” novel. 🙃😀

Just a thought. Can you imagine using emoticons the way we see it visually on facebook in real life?

We would look ridiculous! Some of us would have to go on stunt man training courses to achieve such a feat as pulling off social media emoticons.

Life is tough then again so are you and I. It’s difficult to stop a cycle or habit in our lives & make a change for good or bad.

Just be kind of ourselves. A bit of self-care is good.

It helps us to help make sure other people we love are looking after themselves.

Complacency is a hell of a state to be in. Is complacency worse than procrastination?

Word of the day

#GOATBAHS 

I’m mesmerised with floating points remix of Four Tet’s ‘Sing’

It a good place to put your self for a few minutes.

It’s great to work your brain. Stimulation. I’m typing. I’m doing something that makes me feel good. It gives me a purpose.

That is how creative we are!

Think about how we use the word creatively in different contexts.

Complacency & Procrastination -the pitfalls to Humanity? IDK

The first is being too comfortable with the idea you are doing great ( fooling yourself). It’s stunting your growth.

The second is delaying things that will inevitably set you back from what you want to achieve. Something that will make you feel true happiness.

These are my words

 

That’s for my mini me.

Eating at the table- as you do. My four year old starts talking about the end of the ‘skeleton dance’ . She has just got back from school. Concerned? just a tad. 

The Spanish inquisitor comes out in me and I realise she is telling me that Spring is coming.

ME: Oh yes, I can’t wait for Spring! Hate this weather

MINI ME: Mommy you are just going to have to be patient.

Well, what if I don’t want to be patient?  Little Miss smart ass.  

ME: Honey you know those monsters I said were not allowed in this house? well……………………

Parenting and Mental Health

 

I was lucky to get a place on Calderdale’s first ‘mental health and parenting conference organised by an incredible charity called ‘Healthy minds’. People who know my story in previous posts may just be able to grasp the surrealness I felt being a part of a conference made up of social workers, Independent reviewing offices, psychologists, family support workers the women centre and mental health service users and volunteers.

All brought together under one roof with a common goal of learning about mental health and parenting and how the two can concur. I was inspired by the people who spoke about their experiences with various professionals. People being ignored and there wishes overridden all because they may have had a mental health history. I finally felt that all my life and experiences have led me to this road that I am walking in my present life. I’m not the only one who wants to change! YAY!

 Mental health is about EVERYBODY and if we continue to ignore this fact we are seriously hindering safeguarding our community. I did two awesome workshops today: one is on how we in the community can get service users to access the services available. Fear is a motivating factor. Fear of being put down, fear that benefit money will be stopped, fear of local authorities involvement such as social services. Calderdale professionals need to get wise about mental health and be a part of the solution.

STOP TAKING KIDS AWAY FROM PARENTS WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES and start signposting people to groups and services they can find support without judgement. One person I was over the moon to see was the independent reviewing officer who resided over my daughter’s case when she was a word of the court and in temporary foster care. This is the same woman 3 months into our case decided to ratify the social services plan to have my daughter adopted. We met today at the same level. She acted like a long time friend. She was the thorn in my side. We clash personality-wise and sometimes even professionals can’t put their personal feelings to one side. We are only human, right?  I don’t hold any grudges. I have my baby home where she belongs. I was happy to see her there ready to learn something. So good on her.

Something that never seems to fail to surprise me is how professionals link Domestic violence with mental health and assume that taking a child from their family is the only solution. NO! There are loads of groups mothers and fathers can access in my area to learn how to leave a bad relationship, find housing and receive mental health support and still keep their children with them. All these targets that local authorities need to hit-its like working for an inbound insurance company. The focus needs to be first and foremost how a family can stay together reasonably safely. This does require thinking out the box and more support workers and social workers and agencies to challenge their beliefs about mental health.

We all know there are major funding issues for mental health causes. Where I live it seems if you live in an arty area and can create then you deserve funding. Yes, being creative and having writing/ acting/ dancing and painting workshops are great but society still has a preconceived idea of what creativity means. We are all unique and funding should be more readily available. Although this bullshit Tory government needs to go back to the ’80s and die with all the bad perms of the day. 

I am getting ahead of myself. Back to the conference. Another workshop I chose to go on was the ‘mothers apart’ group. CLICK HERE FOR PLENTY INFO. Originally I was going to do the creativity workshop with a lady I will be working with on an anti-stigma workshop in November. I want to be creative. She is doing very well in her personal life. A book published. I’m a writer…but no I had to put my ego to one side and go with my instincts. I know about living apart from my child. I know the system, the flaws, the places to access help, how to communicate with various agencies, what needs to be done so everyone is working from a current document and not a bunch of minutes that were typed up in 1985. Slight exaggeration but you get my meaning. From this workshop, I’m in touch with the organiser and I will do anything to help.

There are so many different levels of support I want to access and learn to help others. I know I go on an about being a volunteer and I go on about it not because I want people to think I am a good person. I am but unfortunately, there are not paid jobs in the mental health sector for me, yet. Until I one comes along. I will continue to volunteer. It helps put my mental health in perspective. I feel like this is where I have always wanted to be. I was meant to take this path (fate if you like) but I also made the conscious decision to go down this path which is crucially important because I know why I am on this path.  It was a brilliant day. I feel inspired, positively ready for hard work and breaking boundaries and using my voice and developing my skills even further. I finally feel useful again. I have a purpose other than being a Mum to my gorgeous child or a super cool wife to be hahaha. So this is where I am at.  I’m going to put down a few links for anybody who is interested. The first is about how you can literally ‘HELP OUT WHEN YOU CHECK OUT’ – All you need to do is carry on shopping and buying the things you do but sign up to this site and every purchase you make at whichever store or organisation- a % of the money goes to the Health minds or a  charity of your choice. How easy and cool is that? No direct debits -hassle-free.click to register – 1 minute of your time is needed. 1 minute. I also got chatting to someone who gave me some information about ‘Fashion textile children’s trust’  – which helps people who work in certain sectors who need financial support their child’s wellbeing click here for more information  HOW COOL IS THAT?