..dear reader..

Citraliprams at 40, there is a load of light outside and inside my flat, my weed works and I have a 4 year old and a wii fit.  It's all pretty ace.  There's also loads of people unhappy about the corruption in the banks, government, press and police too.  Its barely scratching the surface of course but still the arrogance that people in power have is being challenged and their decisions scrutinised.  It makes me feel a bit more comfortable.  It feels a very long time since hope was watching the light grow above the hills or through my bedroom window wondering if daybreak would bring and end to that nights activities.  Wondering if it would be worth looking at then figuring out who my assailants were and if they were likely to leave at dawn or not.  Preparing for whatever was going to happen next could make a lot of difference but mistakes were disastrous.  I came round once, back to my flesh, my room, my life and found that ev...

And she is but it feels like part of me dies whenever she asks for a hug.  I'm sure it would help if I told her this but I'm too busy dissociating. But as a friend once said 'A friend with weed is better'.  Luscious addictive black x.  I just wish we could just relax and go with it but were both all rigid with PTSD and self consciousness.  Add sexual tension and I start to feel pretty fucking overwhelmed by the old feelings of trying to act normal with someone directly after they had raped and/or tortured me.  Grim. The deaths in the family have made me feel much more secure that's things have changed enough.  Its great to have a place to say that.  My mum and Gran said they are crying all the time.  Alkysis is still drinking.  The whole going to watch her dad die and then come home to a messed up house, two hungry preschoolers and a drunken daughter makes it hard to hate my mother with the same se...

Goodnight Grandad, I have have no idea of the sort of man you really were.  After the initial glimpses and sense of journeys with you I have questioned again my assumption of you as a cult member.  You used to talk about my Gran in a sad way.  There was things you wanted to do but couldn't because she wouldn't allow it.  You wanted me to not have to worry about getting my dress dirty, you ignored the signs and my rigid following of signs by swinging high in the play park.  I was terrified when a women calm walking.  I thought she might be undercover police, she was a friend of yours u chatted for a while.  You seemed really happy that day.  You hated my laziness but I was so drained the older I got and couldn't sleep well even when left alone.  Your role in it all?  You've got me there I have no idea.  There a fantasy, there always is.  A need of mine being accepted over the phone, the right words at the right time.  My...

Saw my grandad twice over the long weekend.  He said something about someone called Alan and 'I couldnae stand up to them'.  I couldnae help wondering if related to the sense I've started having about going on trips with my Grandad when I was very little, 2ish say, a good bit before we moved to Glen.  There was arguments about it. Incest glimpses, my legs are bended up towards my face, he is on top.  My dad was an obvious bastard but Grandad not so.  I have the usual sense of disbelief when the images and feelings are not ones I have already become accustomed to. My cousin's funeral on Monday.  The doctors have been saying my grandad doesn't have long for years.  I never believed it before but today I lent over his devastatingly frail and angular frame and tried to lift him up against his pillows I knew something big had changed.  Thankfully a nurse saw this and they sorted him out.  Outside in the corner a woman kept crying...