..dear reader..

When I mentioned to Nushrink that my sleep was being disturbed by vivid oppressive dreams and nightmares every night he asked if there was anything significant about the time of year.  I said something about it being spring and how I often have sleep problems at this time of year but couldn't say much more.  I think he wants me to go further with him, give more details but he will have to be patient.  He also wants me to be very careful what memory work I do on my own but I never get never far and never try very hard. I looked up the calender part in Epstein, Schwarthz and Schwartz's Ritual Abuse and Mind Control  the 19th of April marks the 'the first day of the thirteen-day Satanic ritual relating to fire ... This day is a major human sacrifice day, demanding fire sacrifice with an emphasis on children' (p.26 - 27).  I see charred skin and remember the off hand way in which a young man threw a newborn into a bonfire after an older girl ...

Changed my twitter to profile to just say 'survivor' but I haven't really been feeling it lately.  'Victim' fits better.  I know that's not strictly true of course, I'm not being forced into anything anymore but I find it so hard to really imagine a better life.  There is so much damage, so many abusive relationships for as long as I can remember.  One of the books talks about a silver lining, someone who made you feel human, cared for and loved.  I'm not sure I had one.  I don't have the strength to get beyond it all.  Everything I have gets used up on the day to day, the viruses, the single parent hood, the living with it all. NuShrink said I seemed to be opening up but I know I don't talk coherently much.  Things just evaporate when I start to talk or write and I'm left feeling dumb.  He says I could just do nothing and continue as I am.  I have a long way to go with him.  If I thought like that I would be dead, a dr...

Shakey from the Ventolin, stirred up by the news, dead spy suspicious circumstances, forget about the truth, press/police/politicians corruption: likewise.  And wee man has been ill and grumpy.  Mild four year violence pretty regularly, I hate it, don't want to be scared of my own son but I am.  Naughty step/thinking space employed several times today.  He's stopped listening to the word 'No', I can't look at him as just someone else that ignores me when I say No.  Been too lax on him recently, too wrapped up in my own tiredness and struggles.  He got his appetite back today though and tomorrow is another day, he's well enough for nursery, I'm well enough to clean. The goddam dreams.  Intense, vivid, often violent and impossible to decipher.  Family turns bad again, so I take wee man out in search of safety but the locations keep changing, Glasgow, London, Aberdeen I tell myself.  Later he's a girl, Henrietta, until a yellow...

Very happy to say that my own little patch of earth is doing well, the twins have settled in fine.  Its great.  Not that I'm entirely comfortable with it, of course.  What with it being illegal and all.  But I can't deny all the myriad of positive feelings I have about it.  Daft hippy shit like having a relationship with growing things.  Nurturing something that can never be violent towards me.  I saw a book on Amazon about the benefits of marijuana and it brought to mind the good stuff.  The sudden sensations of being in my body, how its aching from tension and needs stretching, exercise and care.  That mental motivation to get shit done.  To tackle mess bit by bit, taking lots of breaks and deal with it.  That feeling of being able to know myself and love me.  Of course, there is always going to be a part of me that disapproves.  The 'drugs are bad' part, that wishes I didn't want it, didn't need it, to...

So the twins are in. A bit late they were literally like beansprouts by the time I got back from my mum's. I'm having the whole infinity with it again. Feeling for them. Not sure about the led though but only time well tell. This is Scotland remember, not much of acceptance of medicinal benefits of banned substances. I feel writes growing in my mind. Little capillaries linked what I was, what I am and the kind of life I used to dream about. Maybe that's why I dream about the Glen so much. Getting so close to the contours of pine forests, the hit from rhododendrons. Something happen in my when I spent a lot of time outside an moving around out there. I feel in love with the rural landscape and it made me feel like a poet. Still want to punch middle sis if I see her for more than a day and a night. She keep repeating in her usual style when drunk, that she 'loves' her nursing work. I'm glad she is getting on better with her two. She still turns into...