Well, hello, it's taken me a while to find my old blogs, I haven't re-read them, but I'd better copy n save them to a durable form as the diaries of self indulgence 2009.
It's a feature of my life I'm still struggling with despite the cold showers.
Self deprecation appeals to me somehow, it's as if I wouldn't be me without it.
Yet I keep seeing signals, signs and symbols along my life that tell me, call me, scream at me to STOP, shift to positive mode, to take myself seriously, to talk myself up, at least to myself, to work myself up into the state I need to be in to take myself where I need to go.
It's procrastination, and particularly the procrastination that sets in in reaction to dangers both of utter failure and even more, to the risk of being snatched from the jaws of failure and disgrace and handed over to the summer of success in my own eyes but also in other people's eyes - that freezes me completely,
This year that's meant letting down my companions.
In 1997- ongoing somehow or another my supposed race for some kind of freedom led to nothing but disaster for my children, my ex-husband and I. They have all found ways through and beyond this mire, the girls have managed splendidly, amazingly really.
Perhaps I let myself get treated like shit by one of them because frankly I feel I deserve it.
This sense of deserving shit and anger and humiliation leads me to live in a suitably shitty way. No wonder I feel like shit.
How can I start to feel that I've paid my price, or that my applying this price has hurt those I love so much that it was all wrong headed in the first place, that to hold my head high, to attract good things into my life is the best way to make things right for them? It sounds so crazy cos then good things would happen to me. I want that too but I don't feel I deserve good things so it's all pretty muddy....
Ah well, that was a chance to speak to myself for a while...
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
Thursday, 30 July 2009
go to amazing lives
Hi there folks. Sorry for the lapse of entries on this one. Have temporarily moved most entry making to amazing lives missionmiraculous blog as MrMiracle has now come on board and exciting new developments are afoot for those who acknowledge and value small steps as a good starting point for travelling along a challenging therefore exhilarating - yet manageable - path :-) :-) :-)
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Eklectric Eggsentricks Live!
Yes, the Eklectric Eggsentricks are live and kicking and will be sauntering down to cafes in July! Obviously exclamation marks guide you to exclaim with joy and delight as you endeavour to anticipate what to expect by these two most expert persiflers! Trust me, the persiflers themselves are gagging at the bit on this most intriguing matter themselves. Expect nothing and you will most definitely be very pleased with the improvement on your expectations!!!
Participation is the watch word, the E's propose to engage in counter culture dialogue in re assumptions and languages around 'madness' and 'illness', 'sanity' and 'health', psychotics of the world unite sit down at the local and have a sound bite...:-)
Participation is the watch word, the E's propose to engage in counter culture dialogue in re assumptions and languages around 'madness' and 'illness', 'sanity' and 'health', psychotics of the world unite sit down at the local and have a sound bite...:-)
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Brief review
Not sure just how well I'm blooming where I'm planted on the whole.
I'm managing to keep up the washing up most of the time (not all of the time) and I've always managed to just about keep up with the clothes etc washing but continue to fail to keep up with the folding and putting away part of that so at the moment my entire backroom downstairs is dedicated to an ever ascending mountain of clean unironed unput away clothes and bedding, towels etc.
I'm watering the basil plants, so they haven't died yet, and I'm watering the beautiful begonia ? that Kate gave me (thanks Kate, it's still blooming and looking beautiful).
As to development it's simply not happening. I'm not even managing full maintenance. I haven't hoovered for over a week; I haven't washed the floors for over a week; I've failed to keep deadlines for things I've offered to do for associates and colleagues and even my computer has been militating against me, freezing up on me just as I'm desperate to send out a press release to Terry Grimley and also just as I'm supposed to have left the house to watch my youngest daughter perform on the catwalk at the Fashion Design Show at the Artrix in Bromsgrove.
Inkberrow Design Centre is a fabulous centre for fashion and textile design education, no doubt about it; all the kids did brilliantly, it was difficult for me to be confident of my opinion that Amelia stood out from the crowd for her 'attitude', her 'stage presence' and her statuesque form - since I'm her mother I can't promise myself to be objective however hard I try to be and however keenly I am aware that 'objectivity' isn't necessarily a value to strive for..
Speaking of which - on Thursday evening at the Artrix I bumped into a friend I hadn't seen or heard from for at least five years or more - Mike McGrath. We only ever met a few times first in 2002 when I was a bit off my trolley and then again in 2003-4 when he was just a little keen to get back the glasses I'd borrowed off him one evening in 2002. For some reason we really 'clicked' back then and the minute we saw each other again it was clear we are still 'clicking' -
SERENDIPITY is an amazing thing. As my life and my very self have finally been integrating and building back up in a positive way people from my past who I'd be glad to find in the present and future have almost magically begun to reappear. And others who haven't reappeared are clearly not meant to. One or two appear and then the effort to communicate rapidly indicates little by way of reason to keep talking yet the good will is exchanged and that counts for plenty in both directions I hope.
Meanwhile though I've cleared a couple of fear erected hurdles last week, made a phone call and written an email that have been generating anxiety and procrastination, and that is a big plus.
Nevertheless MissionMiraculus seems to be developing more slowly than it 'should' be, my tendency to want to think things through and visualise and enlarge and colour in ideas and so on are holding back the de facto establishment of an income generating concern and a hands on awareness and recovery programme of presentations, work shops and healing projects.
It IS making progress and patience has never been my strong suit so it's important not to get the cat o 9 tails out. Still we're 2 weeks past the deadline I set for registering our company and launching it and this is now very much on my mind...
Domestic conflict continues to beset us at home, the heritage of the 'wilderness years' in my life, the years of depression and self loathing, the years of occasional eruptions of bizarre and highly agitated and disturbed, distressed behaviour that in some degree the children were witness to at least at a background level, is such that they cannot view me with confidence or any huge respect.
Not least because I have never developed capacity to respect myself highly enough. Help by way of 'talk therapy' is at hand, however, not from therapists, who I can't afford, but by way of friends and my 'support worker' Mike Lewington who is worth his weight in gold. Because he values authenticity above script and doesn't insult anyone's intelligence. We need him in MissionMiraculus and we'll work toward a budget that may attract him away from 'nhs provided services' into our 'MM provided recovery project initiatives'.
I could say more but this is already quite long. I need to get on with some time wasting, after all it is saturday...
I'm managing to keep up the washing up most of the time (not all of the time) and I've always managed to just about keep up with the clothes etc washing but continue to fail to keep up with the folding and putting away part of that so at the moment my entire backroom downstairs is dedicated to an ever ascending mountain of clean unironed unput away clothes and bedding, towels etc.
I'm watering the basil plants, so they haven't died yet, and I'm watering the beautiful begonia ? that Kate gave me (thanks Kate, it's still blooming and looking beautiful).
As to development it's simply not happening. I'm not even managing full maintenance. I haven't hoovered for over a week; I haven't washed the floors for over a week; I've failed to keep deadlines for things I've offered to do for associates and colleagues and even my computer has been militating against me, freezing up on me just as I'm desperate to send out a press release to Terry Grimley and also just as I'm supposed to have left the house to watch my youngest daughter perform on the catwalk at the Fashion Design Show at the Artrix in Bromsgrove.
Inkberrow Design Centre is a fabulous centre for fashion and textile design education, no doubt about it; all the kids did brilliantly, it was difficult for me to be confident of my opinion that Amelia stood out from the crowd for her 'attitude', her 'stage presence' and her statuesque form - since I'm her mother I can't promise myself to be objective however hard I try to be and however keenly I am aware that 'objectivity' isn't necessarily a value to strive for..
Speaking of which - on Thursday evening at the Artrix I bumped into a friend I hadn't seen or heard from for at least five years or more - Mike McGrath. We only ever met a few times first in 2002 when I was a bit off my trolley and then again in 2003-4 when he was just a little keen to get back the glasses I'd borrowed off him one evening in 2002. For some reason we really 'clicked' back then and the minute we saw each other again it was clear we are still 'clicking' -
SERENDIPITY is an amazing thing. As my life and my very self have finally been integrating and building back up in a positive way people from my past who I'd be glad to find in the present and future have almost magically begun to reappear. And others who haven't reappeared are clearly not meant to. One or two appear and then the effort to communicate rapidly indicates little by way of reason to keep talking yet the good will is exchanged and that counts for plenty in both directions I hope.
Meanwhile though I've cleared a couple of fear erected hurdles last week, made a phone call and written an email that have been generating anxiety and procrastination, and that is a big plus.
Nevertheless MissionMiraculus seems to be developing more slowly than it 'should' be, my tendency to want to think things through and visualise and enlarge and colour in ideas and so on are holding back the de facto establishment of an income generating concern and a hands on awareness and recovery programme of presentations, work shops and healing projects.
It IS making progress and patience has never been my strong suit so it's important not to get the cat o 9 tails out. Still we're 2 weeks past the deadline I set for registering our company and launching it and this is now very much on my mind...
Domestic conflict continues to beset us at home, the heritage of the 'wilderness years' in my life, the years of depression and self loathing, the years of occasional eruptions of bizarre and highly agitated and disturbed, distressed behaviour that in some degree the children were witness to at least at a background level, is such that they cannot view me with confidence or any huge respect.
Not least because I have never developed capacity to respect myself highly enough. Help by way of 'talk therapy' is at hand, however, not from therapists, who I can't afford, but by way of friends and my 'support worker' Mike Lewington who is worth his weight in gold. Because he values authenticity above script and doesn't insult anyone's intelligence. We need him in MissionMiraculus and we'll work toward a budget that may attract him away from 'nhs provided services' into our 'MM provided recovery project initiatives'.
I could say more but this is already quite long. I need to get on with some time wasting, after all it is saturday...
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Quick One
Feeling a lot better, partly due to supportive commentating by ekesan moppat, whoever he is, thanks, mopp :-) and partly due to finding self four days along the line without any adolescant rages coming in my direction. Could sleep for a few weeks though. This is because being disorganised, to the degree that I am disorganised is utterly exhausting. I need a housekeeper, a personal assistant, and some kind of catapult that shoots me out of sleep in the morning by 6 or 6.30 and a nasty natured miniature terrier to nip at my heels til I've run away from it for a mile each day before breakfast. Rather than the cuddling, licking fur cushion that in fact lives with us.
Anyhoo, re 17yr old daughter life's been rewardingly friendly as said for four days now, it's weird, hasn't happened for years I don't think, darenb't mention it in case I break the spell
It's late, I'm off
Anyhoo, re 17yr old daughter life's been rewardingly friendly as said for four days now, it's weird, hasn't happened for years I don't think, darenb't mention it in case I break the spell
It's late, I'm off
Friday, 15 May 2009
Hi There
Clam had to go because her name offended my sister. She had a point. How can I expect someone called 'Calamity' anything to blossom like Doris Day in the 1950's.. I so agree with her. I need a more dignified, graceful identity. J.Nee doesn't quite hit the mark; still maybe if nothing else we have an unmovable initial J and Nee implies both 'born as' and also 'born'. So maybe J has only got as far as the J or is still on knees or is in the process of rebirthing or - there are plenty of connotations so it'll do for now.
I no longer look daily to see if any one is reading or commenting. I no longer have a sense that I have reTaders. I no longer have been a writer let alone reader of this site for a few weeks. That's for a number of reasons. Firstly there was my being so up to my ears in other things that it slipped to the back burner. The more rapidly since no one was commenting so it was easier to d iarise on paper with biro than to 'put it out there' like an unmade bed..
Then there was the quiet spiralling downwards as a small number of contingencies met together in a manner that dispirited me. I remain dispirited.
Funnily enough I received an email recently that constituted in its vocabulary music to my ears, a brief spell in bliss, a rapid trip to and from what it might be like if my real self were anything like, in reality my 'i deal self'. It was a compliment from someone I respect very highly who used the word 'gifted' in relation to me and 'superb' in relation to my work as a writer.
It took me about 4 pages of typed script to explain to myself that neither of the adjectives appropriately apply to me, however much I could wish they did. It reminds me of the time in 1997 when I said to some unintelligent mh worker 'All my life I've wondered whether I'm a genius or a moron. In the end I've realised that I'm neither, but that I'm probably closer to being a genius than a moron'. As far as I know that, as a logical statement is equivalent in content to saying 'I think I'm probably above average in my functional intelligence'. Oddly enough this was recorded in my medical notes at the time as 'has a psychotic delusion that she is a genius'. I discovered this when I visited my notes a year later. It was one of errors of fact. For example my address was wrongly recorded, my qualifications matched those of my less academically successful or able (now ex) husband, my history as a published writer was recorded as a delusion of grandeur 'thinks she is a poet', my near bi-lingual background due to my mother being Swedish was recorded as 'delusion that she can speak Swedish'; my deliberate performance of uttering in Swedish because it just seemed absolutely pointless bothering to open my mouth in English, no-one was listening to a word I said, I reckoned I might as well be talking greek! I couldn't, so Swedish had to do. This was recorded as my talking in a made up language.
Yes, of course there were more errors that year, carefully recorded, stored and insisted upon ever since as a 'closed case' of 'fact' that it is pointless to revisit since it's all water under the bridge now.
Mmmmm.... Since the above more or less comprise the framework of 'delusions' I was said to be suffering from and since other indicators such as 'reckless spending' or 'sexual disinhibition' etc of bi-polar disorder were missing, I was not placing myself or anyone around me in a position of risk to harm -
..then to a high degree it would seem that twelve years on I remain forbidden to mention something: at the end of my marriage my ex husband behaved in 'mad making ways' once his girlfriend of the time went on holiday and he focussed on getting me hospitalised since in his avowed belief my wish to end the marriage was a proof that I was mentally ill.
His determinedly disturbing behaviours added to what was already a very distressing situation. In the stress of it all I began to lose weight and sleep. I did enter a mental and emotional crisis. The 'help' I got from the Mental Health Services from that point was of huge assistance to my husband from that point on until 2004. To me it was the ushering in of an era of violence, isolation and mental/emotional/social cruelty so severe that twelve years on from its inception I'm still pinching myself amazed that I'm still alive.
Sometimes I begin to believe the days of pain and mistreatment are over and that 'good karma' is moving back into my life in that 'circle' so cutely promoted on the 'Lion King', or in the scrible 'the cheek shall inherit the fun', or in To Kill a Mocking Bird - oh, in so many many sources of idealism in which goodness and kindness and honesty prevails and cruelty and greed and malice is conquered.
And then for a while I lose that hope again, or at least, my hope fades a little. What doesn't hope is that in the case of all but one person I've met in my life I have only ever met people who 'mean well' and even the one I've met I've my doubts about I believe there is 'self-righteousness' involved, that the person believes they are 'good' - indeed the person I have in mind told me several times when I was still encountering him that he is 'too nice for his own good'. We all have a right to our own opinions.
Just now hope is flagging a bit. Just a short fall of positive thinking probably. A yearning creeping into the filaments of me for feeling the sun on my life. It's probably just me accidentally chasing myself into the shadows. I must stop it. It's much more fun in the sunlight of living, much better when I forget myself, much better when I forget myself just now I keep remembering me and it's getting in my way and getting on my nerves....
I no longer look daily to see if any one is reading or commenting. I no longer have a sense that I have reTaders. I no longer have been a writer let alone reader of this site for a few weeks. That's for a number of reasons. Firstly there was my being so up to my ears in other things that it slipped to the back burner. The more rapidly since no one was commenting so it was easier to d iarise on paper with biro than to 'put it out there' like an unmade bed..
Then there was the quiet spiralling downwards as a small number of contingencies met together in a manner that dispirited me. I remain dispirited.
Funnily enough I received an email recently that constituted in its vocabulary music to my ears, a brief spell in bliss, a rapid trip to and from what it might be like if my real self were anything like, in reality my 'i deal self'. It was a compliment from someone I respect very highly who used the word 'gifted' in relation to me and 'superb' in relation to my work as a writer.
It took me about 4 pages of typed script to explain to myself that neither of the adjectives appropriately apply to me, however much I could wish they did. It reminds me of the time in 1997 when I said to some unintelligent mh worker 'All my life I've wondered whether I'm a genius or a moron. In the end I've realised that I'm neither, but that I'm probably closer to being a genius than a moron'. As far as I know that, as a logical statement is equivalent in content to saying 'I think I'm probably above average in my functional intelligence'. Oddly enough this was recorded in my medical notes at the time as 'has a psychotic delusion that she is a genius'. I discovered this when I visited my notes a year later. It was one of errors of fact. For example my address was wrongly recorded, my qualifications matched those of my less academically successful or able (now ex) husband, my history as a published writer was recorded as a delusion of grandeur 'thinks she is a poet', my near bi-lingual background due to my mother being Swedish was recorded as 'delusion that she can speak Swedish'; my deliberate performance of uttering in Swedish because it just seemed absolutely pointless bothering to open my mouth in English, no-one was listening to a word I said, I reckoned I might as well be talking greek! I couldn't, so Swedish had to do. This was recorded as my talking in a made up language.
Yes, of course there were more errors that year, carefully recorded, stored and insisted upon ever since as a 'closed case' of 'fact' that it is pointless to revisit since it's all water under the bridge now.
Mmmmm.... Since the above more or less comprise the framework of 'delusions' I was said to be suffering from and since other indicators such as 'reckless spending' or 'sexual disinhibition' etc of bi-polar disorder were missing, I was not placing myself or anyone around me in a position of risk to harm -
..then to a high degree it would seem that twelve years on I remain forbidden to mention something: at the end of my marriage my ex husband behaved in 'mad making ways' once his girlfriend of the time went on holiday and he focussed on getting me hospitalised since in his avowed belief my wish to end the marriage was a proof that I was mentally ill.
His determinedly disturbing behaviours added to what was already a very distressing situation. In the stress of it all I began to lose weight and sleep. I did enter a mental and emotional crisis. The 'help' I got from the Mental Health Services from that point was of huge assistance to my husband from that point on until 2004. To me it was the ushering in of an era of violence, isolation and mental/emotional/social cruelty so severe that twelve years on from its inception I'm still pinching myself amazed that I'm still alive.
Sometimes I begin to believe the days of pain and mistreatment are over and that 'good karma' is moving back into my life in that 'circle' so cutely promoted on the 'Lion King', or in the scrible 'the cheek shall inherit the fun', or in To Kill a Mocking Bird - oh, in so many many sources of idealism in which goodness and kindness and honesty prevails and cruelty and greed and malice is conquered.
And then for a while I lose that hope again, or at least, my hope fades a little. What doesn't hope is that in the case of all but one person I've met in my life I have only ever met people who 'mean well' and even the one I've met I've my doubts about I believe there is 'self-righteousness' involved, that the person believes they are 'good' - indeed the person I have in mind told me several times when I was still encountering him that he is 'too nice for his own good'. We all have a right to our own opinions.
Just now hope is flagging a bit. Just a short fall of positive thinking probably. A yearning creeping into the filaments of me for feeling the sun on my life. It's probably just me accidentally chasing myself into the shadows. I must stop it. It's much more fun in the sunlight of living, much better when I forget myself, much better when I forget myself just now I keep remembering me and it's getting in my way and getting on my nerves....
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Another Copy and Paste
Black and White Cat or something of that sort, to me
show details Apr 16 (13 days ago) Reply
I am delighted to hear that you are, like me, a person enjoying a multiple personality order. The difference between you and I is perhaps that you are a little disconcerted by there being more than one of you inside your body and so endeavour a achieve congruence of personality. Whereas I suspect congruence of personality features would be impossible for me, as it would involve the personality equivalent of doing the splits and walking on a tight rope. I couldn't sustain it even if I could get myself into position. I chose the lazy way - over a period of time and quite unconsciously, that is without conscious note or intent, I developed a variety of Janie's. It certainly does throw people at times, and sometimes it's me that's thrown, into a loony bin. But generally speaking since all my selves are in contact with each other and I experience my 'self' as one core, then the behavioural and expressive shifts in my behaviour in different circumstances are no more or less than a variety of masks for one and the same method 'actor' in my life story as it unfolds before me as I live it and at times attempt to direct it, pointlessly, I've now realised, since in some very happy way, it turns out my life directs me not the other way around. How weird is that. I don't know whether or not I've got anything at all to do with it. The mistakes of course must be mine. The helping me back to my feet afterwards, and brushing me down ready to 'fight another day' however, is what makes me have full faith in 'god or whatever's good'
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show details Apr 16 (13 days ago) Reply
I am delighted to hear that you are, like me, a person enjoying a multiple personality order. The difference between you and I is perhaps that you are a little disconcerted by there being more than one of you inside your body and so endeavour a achieve congruence of personality. Whereas I suspect congruence of personality features would be impossible for me, as it would involve the personality equivalent of doing the splits and walking on a tight rope. I couldn't sustain it even if I could get myself into position. I chose the lazy way - over a period of time and quite unconsciously, that is without conscious note or intent, I developed a variety of Janie's. It certainly does throw people at times, and sometimes it's me that's thrown, into a loony bin. But generally speaking since all my selves are in contact with each other and I experience my 'self' as one core, then the behavioural and expressive shifts in my behaviour in different circumstances are no more or less than a variety of masks for one and the same method 'actor' in my life story as it unfolds before me as I live it and at times attempt to direct it, pointlessly, I've now realised, since in some very happy way, it turns out my life directs me not the other way around. How weird is that. I don't know whether or not I've got anything at all to do with it. The mistakes of course must be mine. The helping me back to my feet afterwards, and brushing me down ready to 'fight another day' however, is what makes me have full faith in 'god or whatever's good'
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