You are not worth it

Part of being a survivor is relearning social interactions to exclude negative and abusive people.

It can be difficult to do when abusive relationships are all you know and learning about red flags and how abusers can charm you is fundamental to seeing through those who don't really care about anything but their own power.

Bullies come in all shapes and sizes and have the insular goal of bringing you down to their level.

Red flags involve such things as stating what issues their target has whilst denying they themselves have issues.

This is a screaming red flag.

Every single person has issues, everyone has things to work through and no one person is free from continual self growth, healing and development.

An abusive person fails to see that they are not perfect and projects their issues onto the target they deem to not have these issues.

It is not difficult to see this behaviour once you realise what is happening and it's at this point you can say "you are not worth it" and,  at least, walk away emotionally, even if it is physically not an option.

It takes great strength of character to admit your faults, love yourself and work your own faults through.

It takes an abuser to blame other people.

Smacked Down

Hospital walls, floating floors, bouncing around,

Smacked down, flung back,

Melting faces, sterile places, can't stop, sides hurting,

Laughing,

Colours stream, brain screams, can't breathe,

Smacked down, flung back,

Laughing,

Can't stop, drum beats, crawling the walls, strobe lights,

Laughing,

Sides splitting, tears streaming, Doc's laughing,

Smacked down, flung back

Stomach hurts, can't breathe, won't stop, brain screams,

Lights stream, floating curtains, sterile sheets,

Laughing,

Brain crawling, people folding, electric beeps,

Smacked down, flung back,

Laughing,

Can't stop, Can't breathe, Can't feel,

Brain screams,

Smacked down, flung back,

Laughing,

Psyche.

I wrote this in a+e in 2008 after a horrible reaction to anti depressants, I couldn't stop going from hysterical laughter to horrendous feelings of suicide. There wasn't anything the medical staff could do, I had to wait for the pills to wear off which took about 2 days. I was kept in a+e for about 6 hrs and then babysat at a friends house. It wasn't a good experience but has taught me the value of starting in small amounts for any new medication and then increasing the dosage if I don't react.

This experience really annoys me because I could have not sought help and actually committed suicide, leaving my child on his own. I have had suicidal tendencies but I do not want to die, that's not what my suicidal thoughts are about. I was unable to live with the trauma I'd received and I had no coping strategies. After therapy and learning how to care for myself by providing the love I wasn't given as a child I have overcome most of the suicidal tendencies and, although often grumpy, I do love being alive and being a mum.

Duvet days

Some days are not worth getting out of bed, they're wrong, you're wrong, the bleak endless monotony of failing over and over again growls at you like an angry black monster hiding under the bed, so you pull yourself back in, tucking the duvet all around you and pull it up over your head.

You're engulfed in softness and fluffiness and comfort, cocooned by a great warm marshmallow, keeping all the dark and growliness away.

And off you go, down a make believe well of your own choice, where you are the heroine and you can have all that you want or need.

You can speed down a flower filled path through a woodland on a galloping gray horse, hair flying wildly behind you as you duck beneath branches and jump over fallen trees. The birds singing loudly from the canopy.

Before you the path opens up onto a meadow and smoke billows from the chimneys of houses scattered around the middle of the clearing. The hustle and bustle of people working and children playing replaces the singing of the birds.
 
You slow your horse to a trot and then a walk and slide deftly from her back. Your friend Cara rushes up to greet you as you sling the rabbits from your back, dropping them at the feet of your horse.

You hug Cara and tell her how you caught the three rabbits in the forest as she picks them up. She heads over to where other people are preparing meals and starts to skin the rabbits. Turning back to your horse you unsaddle her and brush her down then turn her out onto the meadow to rest with the other horses.

Children rush past you in a haze of dust, screeching and laughing and shouting with each other.

The sun basks warmly in the sky as you take a rest upon a stump bench by the gently crackling fire.

Suddenly the childrens laughter turns to screams and the thunder of hooves comes thickly from the dark wood. Out of the trees come pouring hoards of men upon giant horses, slaying people with swords and spears as they stampede through the meadow.

You rush from the bench, crying out for Cara, as you watch a horseman heading straight for her. She dives under the table just as the sword sweeps down inches from where she stood. Running over you take hold of her arm and pull her to you.

Grabbing a large axe from the kitchen table you turn to help the other villagers fight off the dark horsemen.

Leaping across tables you jump high in the air and swing you axe low, cleanly slicing off the head of one of the horsemen. You spin round and run towards another, screaming a warrior roar, as you see them about to slay a child. Pulling your arm back you use your full force to throw the axe straight into the heart of the horseman and sweep up the child into your arms. The horseman falls from his steed as you grab the horses mane and leap into the saddle with the child. Grabbing a long spear resting against a table you turn to the rest of the horsemen and help the others to banish them from your village.

The meadow lays in ruins and people are strewn around crying over fallen loved ones and shouting for their families. A mother runs towards you and the child cries out for her. You lift the child into her arms as they embrace each other.

Jumping down from the horse you run back to Cara and start helping with clearing up the dead horsemen and preparing for the villagers funeral pyres.

Late into the evening the village works, dragging the horsemen into a forbidden part of the forest and laying curses around blackened marking stumps.

In the village several pyres are prepared for the villagers and the people lament a mournful song of loss whilst goddesses lay blessings on the fallen villagers.

Altogether the fallen villagers are raised onto the burning pyres and as the flames lick up towards the sky the villagers slowly fall into slumber.

Crazy is as crazy does

You asked me to meet you on the sandy beach,
Bitter-sweet memories of camels and typewriters,
Of bullies and bullied and broken oven doors.
You asked me to meet you on the sandy beach,
I baulked and I walked, not knowing too,
Now I don't know pandora's key hold,
Where do you reside with memories lies,
If I move forward will you live behind,
Or is it better where you fly,
It's a triangle in a pentagon,
Where the horses eat pears,
Of gremlins and witches,
Flooded ceilings,
Heart breaks,
For you,
Three out of five ain't bad,
Four out of five ain't sad,
Five out of five ain't had,
Will you meet me by the sliding stair doors.

Unsureity and made up words

I haven't posted anything for a while.

However, I have a back log of drafts in various states of completeness awaiting either the delete or publish button.

I haven't posted because I've had a mental fall-back. A fall-back to the darker days of my breakdown when I was trying to deal with being a survivor by researching everything I could about child abuse.

It was a never ending rabbit warren of victims, over and over, failed and punished by those around them.

It lead me to some stark places of paranoia and despair in the darker recesses if my mind and I don't know how I managed to crawl out of it, but I did and I don't want to go back to that place.

If I do, I know I won't make it back and will spend the little life I have left, dribbling into a metaphorical straight jacket.

The thing which comforts me and brings me back to a level I can cope with, is that, through the entire history of human writing, these things have been written about.

It's all there in plain view once you are willing to see it.

The great literatists of eons past have repeated over and over the murky cycle of abuse which permeates throughout the centuries.

They knew, they wrote.

They told it in fantasy and legends and myths.

They explained everything and that's why they're the greats.

And still today, the great writers come, concocting fantasy realms integrated with the present to give you the escape, comfort and comeradiree to know you aren't alone, you aren't the only one and sometimes, the only way to cope, the only way to exist, is through make believe.

It's less painful than the truth.

Jam, Jam, not the Jam

A non-cook's approach to Jam making

(This blog comes with a warning about cats and "presents")


Last year I tried learning how to make jam. It was a disaster.

I over cooked the jam to the point of cement and added citric acid. To be fair, the recipe I had, said to add citric acid but, never again will I use the evil stuff.

(Teen even banned it after I mistook it for sugar and added it to his cuppa. Whoops.)

So, a year has passed and the time to make jam has arrived again. I have been putting it off but my freezer is now full of raspberries and I still have to forage for brambles. There are twice the amount of bramble bushes than raspberry bushes so I really need to do something with them.

So here goes, this is how I made jam.

Ingredients

1 cat undertaking a bizarre insanity episode where it forgets it knows what anything is, this is to distract you from jam making whilst you google "Cat has suddenly gone insane" and read lots of replies stating "erm, that's normal for cats".

1 cat coming home with a "present", this is so you can practise praising said cat whilst pathetically screaming "is it DEAD".

1 further cat playing with it, (it was dead and not wholly entire), this gives you the opportunity to get trapped on the corner of the sofa whilst said cat throws around a disintegrating "present" whilst you scream "PLEASE won't somebody remove it, there's bits EVERYWHERE".

(I did wash my hands before commencing with the jam making)

Sterilised jam jars, you can sterilise them in boiling water (and wash your hands at the same time).

Twitter, so you can get badgered by LucyMooFace into actually making the jam.

A teenager (much needed taste tester, there is no way, after last time that I'm going to be trying it) + (is easy to designate them "present remover")

Numerous recipes and on line comments, this is so you can learn other peoples mistakes and not do them.

Numerous book recipes, which then get used to prop up the phone so you can listen to some tunes.

8oz of frozen raspberries, they aren't meant to be frozen I just forgot to get them out of the freezer.

4oz of sugar, all the recipes stated equal amounts of raspberries to sugar but after reading the on line comments it said to halve it. I like to keep a used vanilla pod in my sugar as it adds a lovely flavour.

Utensils

Stock pot, I use a huge stock pot, I needed to as I managed to splash the jam everywhere.

Face guard and overalls, because I managed to splash the jam everywhere.

Rolling pin, to mash the frozen raspberries.

Wooden spoon, it is easier to stir the jam with a spoon than with a rolling pin.

A bowl, this is to warm the sugar.

Method

Put the raspberries in the pot and bash with the rolling pin whilst heating.

Warm the sugar in the microwave, keep the microwave next to the stove so you don't have to stretch whilst stirring.

Boil the raspberries, not full heat, and lob in the sugar.

Stir whilst boiling and using eye protection.

Put a spoon in and drip the jam off the spoon. If it is runny it isn't done.

Repeat spoon test, whilst boiling and stirring, until the jam drips off like honey, runny honey not solid honey. You could use a jam thermometer but where's the fun in that!

Pour into jam jars, wait until they have cooled before putting the lid on otherwise you get a crusty top. I discovered this as I did this.

Viola

Whilst you're waiting for it to cool build a cat den in the kitchen with the picnic blanket then write a blog whilst waiting for insanity kitty to decide he is insane enough to sleep on the keyboard.

Get distracted by kitty cuddles and state "I'll update the taste test tomorrow after baking scones" that's "sc-on-s"

p.s. I love glass lidded jars, you can probably tell from the picture, they are so handy and useable for anything, get some,

Bye

It is not inappropriate language

There has been a child sexual abuse case brought to the headlines recently after it transpired the offender was given a suspended sentence due to his victim being labelled a "sexual predator".

A thirteen year old girl being abused by a forty one year old man is an abuse victim not a sexual predator.

The forty one year old man was given a suspended sentence.

Even though, on top of abusing a child, he was charged with MAKING, yes MAKING images of abused children.

Yet his VICTIM was accused and his sentence suspended.

This is absolutely disgusting, abhorrent behaviour on the part of the judge to agree with the victimisation of a child and ignoring the man had also MADE images of abused children.

The only conclusion I can come up with is the judge themselves sees children as sexual beings and not as children capable of being ABUSED by paedophiles.

A judge calling a child a sexual predator screams red flags as a non abuser would not be able to comprehend a CHILD as a predator.

A judge making observations like that should not be allowed to preside over cases of sexual abuse which involve children especially and an investigation should be made into the images the man made.

Where are the children abused in the images?

Who did the man supply the images to?

This case is a sad and dangerous situation, sad that there could be more than one victim and dangerous because it shows there are more paedophiles and victims involved.

The justice system needs to acknowledge the abusers and abuse apologists within their industry and enforce a standard of behaviour set to ensure that abusers and apologists are not allowed to work on cases where they can further abuse victims.

This is why victims do not come forward. There is no protection in the justice system.