Memories: 10 May 2025

10 May 2025

8:11 am up and at ‘em! I stopped the “Viagra” yesterday (after 13 doses). I think I will quit it completely. I was rather ill yesterday. Drugs and me are not a good combination. I abhor toxicity. Well, my gut abhors it.

Even though I felt like hell yesterday, I fought my way through changing the toilet seat bolts etc. One had rusted so I had to cut the bolt off. I was weak and ill so this nearly killed me. Then it wouldn’t sit right. It’s still wobbly even though I screwed everything on tight.

Titanium Woman is sick of struggling for every little thing…alone. But I fought my through. Last evening I cut up little dividers out of stryrofoam for my jewellery drawers on my little apothecary cabinet. So my earrings are more easily manageable.

Halfway through I realised I was exhausted and my back hurt bit fought through all that too. It al looks much neater now.

10 May 2024

8:05 am I had a very bad night last night. I was up peeing 8 times (4 times within the first 3 1/2 hours of sleep from 8 pm until 11:30 pm)

I also had epic tummy issues yesterday from 4 pm to 7 pm (hence going to bed so early as I felt wrung out completely).

I had applied for the Southside Collectors Market to be held at White Ladys in Kelvin Grove but I decided this morning (I woke up at 7:30am) to cancel that. I have been unwell for weeks now and I don’t want to push myself too hard.

The market is on 18th May but the way I feel it will be too much for me. I will hope I feel better for the other two markets I applied for on 9th and 29th June.

I will try to rest today. I have lost 3 1/2 kilos without dieting. I feel weak. My bladder is killing me even with taking the solifenacin (which seemed to have improved slightly initially but now is just as bad as ever!)

My hair is constantly lank and oily and I constantly feel weak and fatigued and even depressed. Not good. I haven’t been depressed for several years. I don’t want to spiral under with that!!!

The script for solifenacin cost $25 yesterday. It was $16 last time. The chemist wanted to charge me $28 and when I complained about the huge increase reduced the price to $25. It feels a bit scammy quite frankly.

I had to wait as my urology receptionist had sent my script via email and I had printed it out with my new printer but the chemist said they needed the original script so had to ring my urology receptionist to request that. All rather insane making. Why send me a script via email when it’s not accepted by the pharmacy? Then the large expense?

Anyway they filled the script and I paid so that was another battle fought and won. For now.

10 May 2023

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8:52 am Bad night. I have come down with a head cold which is not surprising as it was only 5C last night.

At 3:44 am I had a nightmare about swimming in a very deep natural rock pool with Crystal (aged about 10) and a huge wave swamped her and she sank like a stone to the bottom.

I dived down, fumbled around in the wild waters and grabbed her leg and yanked her to the water’s surface. Thankfully she was okay but it was quite an intense emotion in the dream.

So anyway I got up to pee and my throat was closed up so I drank water. I had to do this four times during the night. Bloody exhausting!

Anyway, here I am awake again in “Paradise”. I need to put my electric blanket back on my bed as it was hard to stay warm last night, even under my feather doona. It’s worn thin over time. Frankly I need a new mattress, a new down doona and a new electric blanket as mine is still working but rather grotty looking.

So Hohum.

It’s Jasmine’s birthday today. 16 years estrangement. She is 36 years old today.

10 May 2022

Happy Birthday to my younger daughter Jasmine. It’s been a long estrangement now. But it is her choice.

Crystal spent Mothers Day with me on Sunday and we had a lovely time. I am struck with the realisation (Jasmine was born on Mother’s Day in 1987) that Crystal has had to step into that gulf and be the love of two daughters: herself and the absent one. I am grateful for her not giving up on me and there were times our relationship was strained too.

But I see things improving. Crystal is 36 now and today Jasmine turned 35.

I was going through all sorts of hell when I was 35 with my 15 year old Crystal and my then 13 year old Jasmine. It was horrific and almost unsurvivable. But I dragged us through somehow.

Time has melted like chocolate in an ever-recycling fondue machine. I must not partake in bitterness but let it flow and let my heart heal and hope that Jasmine reconciles one day. But then, that might not actually be beneficial.

So just for today…I will breathe and be grateful for the ones who do love me.

Love is a gift that is so quickly stolen away. A precious and at times precarious undertaking. A gift that needs nurturing and protecting as it can dissipate like quicksilver and toxify.

One can only hope that Jasmine has found greater kinder loves that she finds worthy. That comfort and ennoble her.

Just as I have dear friends that have always loved and supported me.

That quicksilver always finds its locus. Somehow.

10 May 2021

1:11 am praise be! Blessed be the fruit!

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1:11 pm. Joy to the world! It’s a glorious day. Choose happiness. Choose life. Choose each other!

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Watching The Handmaids Tale season 4.

Brilliant albeit triggering as I personally feel I have survived similar traumas via csa in childhood and all the horrific abuse I endured during my marriage and after my separation and divorce, co-sponsored by lawyers and the family court and later the adult guardian systemic abuses (when they endorsed Buck Scherer).

Then when I think about how I danced in the Brisbane live music scene only to be attacked and disparaged over the course of 9 years.

Well...I am living through my own version of the Handmaid’s tale.

No wonder I am working hard at various creative projects in some deluded idea that I might find a way to make enough money get myself to a position of safety.

In reality there has never been any real safety for me as a woman.

But like June in The Handmaids’ Tale I still have a stubborn determination to survive this paradigm. One fucking day at a time.

Never ever let the bastards grind us down!

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10 May 2020

Trigger warning: discussion of my paranormal experiences ie clairaudience, and my inherent spirituality.

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Today I am keeping busy whittling a staff that Crystal brought home years ago that needed sanding back and shaping.

I am also watching “The Other Side” which is a paranormal show based in Canada. They have a Spirit communicator in the show who is Cree and he speaks to the Cree or indigenous spirits in the Cree language which I find beautiful and comforting as the spirit of my cousin Megan’s Maori grandmother (the wife and also daughter of a Chief!) has been visiting me last week and it was a startling experience as I do not speak Maori so had to translate from the Maori dictionary. It turns out she was also speaking in archaic Maori!

It’s Mother’s Day which for me is a mixture of sad and happy memories as my younger daughter who is estranged to me (her choice!) has her birthday today but I am also beset with memories of my own narcopathic evil mother.

So I am scraping at my new Staff and it will be both a walking stick and a ritual object. I had trouble walking yesterday. I needed a stick to lean on.

It worries me greatly that there are some days I have trouble walking and others when I am as lithe and nimble as a young girl or a mountain goat.

Very strange dichotomy in my body.

But I feel strengthened and comforted, my bare feet on the earth, my hands working at the wood on the staff. No doubt the spirits and the fae are guiding me as I work.

Life is good. :-)

10 May 2019

32 years ago I pushed my younger daughter out of my body into this world. Her birth was like her conception, unexpected and unusual. It was a long labour like with my first child and at the moment of crowning I retched and my tiny infant flew free of my labouring body and flew across the room to be caught (fortunately!) by the midwife who joked later she was a pro at catching flying objects as she played netball!

I looked up just in time to see three women reaching up with my newborn straddling their hands. As soon as the midwife placed Jasmine on my belly and stepped back my woman doctor slapped the midwife. (Shock and fear as my beautiful very overdue - 44 weeks gestation- baby had nearly hit the floor and might have been severely damaged.)

The young female medical student was in awe as it was her first birth and became obsessed with having a baby too. My doctor asked me to talk her down (which I did!) as she was soon to complete her training and a baby before finishing her internship would have set her back!

Not long after being placed on my now very wobbly belly, Jasmine started turning blue. I yelled out “hey, I think my kid needs oxygen”. The umbilical cord had been wrapped around her neck and the midwife had deftly wedged a finger underneath it after catching her but the shock of entering this earth in such a spectacular way while being choked had caused Jasmine’s lungs to struggle.

So they whisked her to the treatment table and gave her oxygen and checked her out more thoroughly. Ten fingers, ten toes. Loads of attitude (like her mother!)

After what seemed eons she was brought back over to me and she took to the breast and suckled like a pro. (Crystal had fought my breast and took 3 days to feed properly). So I was greatly relieved and utterly joyous to have a relatively healthy baby apart from the bright orange nose from jaundice with my mother’s vicious comments that she “looked retarded”.

My stupid vile mother had no idea how close we came to losing my baby on the delivery room floor, that evening. I was disgusted. I think that was when I finally began to really hate my mother. It took that much abuse and there was to be so much more.

But my focus then was on my two babies, surviving a vicious toxic family and trying to keep “sane” in an unsafe unsupportive environment.

Now after all those epic fucking struggles Jasmine and I are estranged. She now is living in London.

I wish her well. I would like that she might come back to me one day, and love me like a mother should be loved, with open heartedness and respect but alas it may never happen.

My brave little baby that at 10 years old had to jump on the back of Terry as the prick was strangling me, learned to internalise the trauma and blame me for not providing her with a safe enough, or affluent lifestyle.

Such was the price of trauma. My own daughter.

But a mother’s authentic love is eternal. It never really goes away. It sleeps deep in my chest...like a nascent dragon, waiting for the time when my daughter awakens to herself and the world.

Happy Birthday Jasmine. I wish I had been a different kind of mother, surrounded by good kind people during your childhood. The outlook for us both would have been so vastly different. But I can’t take back the past, I can only look to the Now and hope for a beautiful future.

I love you. As much as I hate what was done to us and how somehow I failed to be the person you wanted. But it’s okay. Life always finds a way and it is our greatest teacher.

Stay safe out there. Find good kind loves and live honourably.

The rest is well... BOLLOCKS.

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1:11 pm make a wish 😉 I am having a blessed and beautiful week. Amazingly so! It’s been a long time since I had such a spell of happiness with my beautiful friends.

I hope and pray I have turned a corner (to every season turn, turn, turn!). Mama T is back on her feet until the next surgery hopefully. All good. All very good!

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I won a ticket to go to Ecstatic Dance tonight! I am very excited! Thanks to the Ecstatic Dance group for your beautiful blessing!

10 May 2018

Today is my younger daughter Jasmine’s birthday. She is now 31. Currently in England. Estranged for almost 12 years (this coming August). Time flies but a mother’s love and sorrow never dies. Such a horror.

Never mind, it’s a gorgeous day. Crystal sewed curtains for me out of ancient chintz fabric my mother hoarded over 30 years ago. Finally being utilised, even with a few silver fish holes which I will disguise somehow.

The car is being repaired today. I am feeling “successful”. Byron is calling.

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10 May 2017

It's cold and wet. So going down the road to buy fish and chips and try very hard not to cry!

Beauregard is bathed, blow-dried and brushed and looks very handsome for his date at the Knackery tomorrow. (Tempted to cancel and keep the $525!)

All good. This too, shall pass!

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I went to Leftys last night to listen to some very good jam sessions. However I attracted an absolute crazy control freak Moroccan guy who at first was charming and friendly then got increasingly berserk and "future thinking" and at one point referred to himself as…my future husband. Needless to say my blood ran cold.

I got up from the table and walked to the bar, ordered a lemonade (which they kindly gave to me gratis) and sat out a few more songs near the exit. Weird Moroccan guy did a weird little dance at the table where we had been sitting, like a victorious little brown Troll as he knew had blown it.

Then he came down to the bar to order another a drink. I fucking absconded outta there as I did not relish the idea of him coming over to me at my new table. Ugh.

He reminded me of a young Buck Scherer. He kept referring to himself as "the galaxy". It was only a slight modification for my usual attracting men who think they are Angels.

I just rolled my eyes and tried to be nice. But it got increasingly weird when he insisted I dance with him and after one dance (which seemed harmless enough) he demanded why I would not let him lead me or control me.

I opined bluntly that I was not born to be controlled by any man but G-d Whom actually has no gender. He could not comprehend my rising anger and disdain. Like ew!

Pity he was so insane as he had several things going for him: he was nice looking, generous (bought me 2 drinks), intelligent, had lived for 10 years in Lyall Bay and knew Wellington well. Pity about the Galaxy Delusions and obsessively desperate need to attain The Tanya. Eww!

Needless to say I was not interested in the bullshit and went home muttering "What the actual fuck?" and wondering why I keep attracting lunatics. I realise my own ptsd is not so attractive to the average bear but FML that was intense!!!

Of course it reinforced my deep love and craving for my former angel man love as he was at least quiet, gentle and relatively non-combative.

But yes... the more I go out into the world to try to enjoy life and confront these bizarre scenarios, the more I prefer my hermitage and my cats, dog and birds. The real angels. Not self-aggrandising wankers with power struggles.

10 May 2016

3.45 pm. Not long awake. Jasmine's birthday today. I will not acknowledge it. She has not made contact with me in 3 years. I spoke to her 2 times last year and she was openly hostile. So I will not put myself through any further pain.

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Watching "Voices". The ginger cat with the Scottish accent is a treat.

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Sunset 10th May 2016. The day my youngest was born. A day of such agony that ended with such sublime ecstasy. I danced with her alone in my room with wild joyous abandon. It had felt so good to be able to walk and dance as the epidural had worn off in time, unlike with Crystal's birth which was very fraught.

Who could have predicted that my beautiful baby daughter would bring me such pain later in my life? Enough already!! I have birthed other "babies" now: creativity, tapestries, love for myself and other survivors.

10 May 2015

6.15 am. Home safe. Very much in pain but that is just the leg! I had a wonderful night, dancing.

It was hard doing the long walk to Margaret St to my car. I hobbled along as adroitly as I could. Having Hungry Jacks helped me on my way. It was delicious!

10 May 2012

10 May 2011

Happy Birthday to my daughter Jasmine today! 24 years old!

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Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons