Hello. Today is the second day of May. Autumn in my home state. The weather is almost perfect, which pleases me no end. Bracing for the winter months but much prefer that to the summer months. Today I want to talk about family. Children from my body kind of family. Though they are now both embracing their autumn years, not much has changed since they were born. 

As I sit in the winter of my years, I have a very clear vision of hindsight. As is normal I suppose, however, it's so clear from where I stand now the errors i committed are glaringly obvious. Though I am not one  who laments on these things I have a tendency to fall into lamentation often on this particular subject. Getting married was my first big mistake. I had no idea just what I was walking into, nor the pitfalls that awaited me. 

The morning of my first wedding I told my father I had made a mistake and didn't want to go ahead with it. He told me I had to go ahead because many people were coming. He then went and purchased a flask of brandy for me and he said that's would calm my nerves. Of course, not being a consumer of alcohol at that point of my life, I drank it in one swig and found myself floating to the waiting taxi. Though I had further misgivings, the taxi driver and my uncle were able to eventually get me to the church, inside and up to the altar, where I stood for an uncomfortable half hour, awaiting the priest. The priest had  told me in no uncertain terms if I kept him waiting he would return the favour, and he did. So many unheeded signs! 

After my honeymoon, I came home with the knowledge stored close to my heart, that now I was in it, I wasn't in the marital bliss I had imagined it would be.  At such a young age of 21 in the physical, emotionally and mentally around twelve, if that, my expectations were way above those immature years.

After just a few months as my unhappiness welled up in me I decided with the maturity of a child that a baby would lift this newfound heavy load I carried in my heart, and in fact make it better. And in my immature bleating to my God.

I'm back!

Well I was interrupted and still had some to say.

Ive been contemplating my past years of doing my best to put some order into my 32 years -3months of continued sobriety. As each day passes I become more amazed that I have been absolutely committed to the task that was set before me.  To stop drinking alcohol and other abusive substance: ie., drugs, nicotine, and anything else I happened to be left alone with for five minutes, that I found myself unable to control.

ONE DAY AT A TIME I have been fortunate to grasp the concept of  and implemented into each 24 hours. And when desperate times called for desperate measures, one hour at a time.

DONT KILL YOURSELF IN THE FIRST FIVE YEARS COZ YOURE KILLING THE WRONG PERSON!  As I was multi/poli addicted I was able to give myself many more five years during the decades, because I realised at five years free of one thing another would raise it's ugly head, and I received a Stay of Execution, once more.

EASY DOES IT, this for me meant stop bashing myself up all the time because I'm not a BAD person trying to get good, I was a SICK person trying to get well.  I'm told I won't get BETTER but I will get Weller!

THINK THINK THINK, tells me to stop trusting my initial thought/solution, but go beyond the third thought and see what I come up with!  That one took a while!

LIVE AND LET LIVE, some dude I married 7months in told me that means MYOB, Mind my own Business! 

FEAR, Face Everything And  Recover OR FEAR: FCUK Everything And Run! 

S-L-I -P. SOBRIETY LOSES ITS PRIORITY

STOP LOOKING FOR THE SPECTACULAR, COZ YOU'LL MISS THE MIRACULOUS! 

I could go on and on and my point is that this is how I get thru my life. One liners, bumper stickers, slogans. KEEP IT SIMPLE...Don't get caught up in all the mega drama and words which are spoken and many times with either a hidden agenda or no depth of purpose to them.

I think it's called Walk the Walk if you're gonna Talk the Talk!

Recovery from a lifetime of traumatic events and abuses cannot be taken lightly. I'm one mega sick human being, trying my best to be human! Except if being human means having to wear a mask for every different person I engage with, or in a workplace, a church etc?, then I'll stay on my side of the street in my own world where I cohabit with my tribe.

Just have to find them first 🌈✨

i do believe I've said enough for one day.  If anyone has ears to hear? Only four more hours of this 24 to manage I'll now go outside and ask my guardian angels to hover over me as I slip into my nocturnal  adventures. To bless me and keep my safe from harm and bless all those living in pain and all the broken people.

Especialy war torn countries where innocent beings live in fear and hopeless situation.

God has it all in Hand. Bless us all Amen 

 

What a month it's been?

Hello! 💜🕊💜 I dearly hope it's been good times for all!

Its been a huge month this past weeks and days. Each new day bringing new challenges whether that be physical pain, emotional turmoil or mental challenges. Many years ago when I was a young mother, all the horrific events of my life accumulated into one big ball of insanity and I succumbed to it.

I was in a tug of war so tight, I had to let go of the rope. All my hopes and dreams of a magical life as wife and mother collapsed into a world of fear and terror and I had absolutely no clue as to how to do anything else but drop the rope.

My efforts of trying to escape included me removing anything that moved and wasn't  basic household need, I disposed of it all and it was never found again.  However, Everything stayed the same.

So a month later I set fire to our home.

An eg., I was married to a sex addict. He was also a control freak of mammoth proportion!  He dictated my every part of the day, though he was absent in his workplace.  

He had a mate that was also a sex addict and felt he wasn't getting enough at home and so decided he would come to my place in the daytime and have his way with me, an unwilling participant!

I had two children aged two and six months.  I worked in my home which was set up as a workshop in my kitchen. I was on piecework.  I was under strict orders to quit smoking on that day. My housework list of chores was left on my kitchen table each day.  I had no washing machine and had to use a gas copper and rinse and wring out laundry by hand!

The light of my day was to read the Sun newspaper death notices. I would pore all over them for reasons unbeknownst to me. If I read the death notices first, then I flipped over the other stuff. I always had a fascination with death.

So this sad St Patrick's day,  I stared miserably into space, trying to imagine myself getting up from that chair and doing this list of chores. Knowing full well that he will come home and do the white glove test and I would have done it wrong! I married my effing mother for Gods sake!  Now that's an epiphany for me bcoz I have always known that I married one or both of my parents, but my mother!!! Then I gave birth to her!!! But first I gave birth to my husband.  All these mini me's! No wonder I'm stuffed up!

this was not my intention to write about. So so many stories within stories. Do other people think as deeply as I do? I friggin must have an analysis for everything. But I must admit, doing it my way I'm getting to know myself more and more and am able to assess if I'm the kind of woman I would like to have in my life.

I recall my final common law husband relationship, becoming overwhelmed when I observed myself playing mind games to justify my existence, and had yet another 'light bulb' moment when I said out loud to myself, "Wow, we really get to know ourself when living with a partner!" Instead of "You sure get to know someone when you live with them!" Because that's the catch cry I always used, and I hear people all over the world state the same phrase.  Important to turn the spotlight on the self, rather than on another?

God has truly blessed me with some of the most amazingly, powerful women in my life space. Wisdom, courage, strength of character and so much more than I can lay my mind to. Amazing women!

Then an odd not so nice women who don't understand me at all. I do believe they don't realise I am who I say I am. If I do something that goes against my principles, my faith, or the standard I have set myself in this new life as an elder, then I will tell you. Got no time to live a lie anymore. On reflection tother nite I have done something that goes against that standard, but I was caught off guard.

My brother had crossed over to his next exciting chapter of his soul just hours after I was able to go to his deathbed and perform the last rites on him. Anoint him, pray my version of the Rosary as it lay around his heart chakra. Does anyone out there understand what a buzz that is?

then there was the time I was able to share the Eucharist, what you may know a son !!! I swear on the Holy Scriptures that was a typo,)Communion!

I'll  begin again. Then there was the time I was able to share Holy Communion with a Muslim couple, one of whom was hoping for a miracle, or maybe both of them were, had asked me if they couldn't please partake of my bread and wine? I had one of those electric storms in my head as I grope for the answer. 30second pause! I faced an enormous challenge as I groped frantically. Then the stillness came! Hello! God speaking! Don't worry, I'll get this. This is mine!

Of course, I'll be honoured to come back. That was one of my golden moments when I was standing in the presence of the heavenly hosts.  No language, but the language of the heart.  God told me, this is in gold writing ok!

THE HEART IS THE TEMPLE WHERE ALL TRUTH RESIDES

God told us all that. I mean God didn't only tell me. It out the in plain site. Jesus said Let those who have ears to hear. Whatever He said. I'm not word perfect, I just know it means we must, we have to, we need to listen with your heart open. People are so closed into their little role playing acts with each other. The sad reality is that they are walking around like zombies because it's familiar. 

The planet seems to be on a trajectory for collision. The war between good and evil is being played out here in our everyday life on our streets, in our homes, in our workplaces. Since the unions, religion, spirituality, are being discarded and nowit's just one great big load of crap. Trump! Idiot! Kim kooming or whatever his name is, get a fucking job for gods sake. Too late for you losers. We have our own set of disaster politics happening here in Australia.  Bloody lot of competitive bully's.

I can't believe we Aussies have been so freaking gullible to fall for this crap they're handing us. They whine and whinge about how much we pensioners are a burden on the public purse! Then they pay them selves some ludicrous wage plus lifetime life of luxury, and make sure their rich golf buddies and bankers have their palm greased.

And if the second head honcho can't keep his zip done up and screws the monika lookalike and gets her up the duff, or not, "but hey, that's ok coz Aussies are so fucking weak, a week and we'll be onto the next comedic act in Canberra."

we are on a runaway train and we better "Brace ourself Effie" 

i believe and will just leave this out there. That the 12x12 Steps and Tradition are the vision for the new world. Just imagine that every one on earth worked and lived this 12x12 in our every day, in our everyway.

I'm happy to elaborate on anything you may ask of me.

The slogans LIVE ONE DAY AT A TIME,  EASY DOES IT,  LIVE AND LET LIVE (I THINK THIS MEANS MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS), THINK THINK THINK, (For me this means 'go beyond the third thought), 

There are more but not sitting in my headspace at present. Some girl in my meeting said once USE THESE SLOGANS AS THE RAILINGS TO YOUR STEPS. That's a great visual for me and I live in visual. I with great pride, celebrate my family i found in the Gumpa Society. Forest Gump is my all time favourite movie along with Philadephia, Meet Joe Black and Beaches. After watching Forest so many times and knew I had found my twin Soul. Except he got all the money!

I see I have totally lost my direction from when I began, but that's what happens when I'm spirit led. I'm interested if anyone picks up on change is writing style?

ive been writing, I see,  for a couple of hours. Have no idea of why I started, but I've learned over the years the words are here in the end of my finger and all I have to do is pickup my tools. Amazing really. I just remembered about the breakdown I started telling you about. But I've just had a message from Frank saying he's just fine and he said saving a seat for her.

im so glad I made that call because it was exactly what my sister in law needed to hear and I needed reassurance too. My brother who left us just 9 days ago, was here knocking on my senses. Ring 🌈🌈🌈 ring🌈🌈🌈ring🌈🌈🌈

So I did. I feel rejuvenated actually. This past few weeks have been challenging to say the least. I also remember  talink about my nervous breakdown as it's called by the world. I think it's a breakthrough. Also I learned how easy it is to hide in the shadows of mental illness because it's a safe place, and I've walked that wild side and it's been ugly.

Now i aks you "Do you want to get well? Do you want to heal? Just like Jesus asked! He also said Physician heal thyself. That means yourself. You! You can heal yourself. Not your physical health so much, but you can heal that broken, wounded child living inside you. You can begin by going to the mirror and falling I need love with yourself! The person who lives in you. Detach from your body! Lie down on the ground and look up at the sky! But look beyond the sky thru the lenses that only the blind can see!

Nacissias. I don't know how to spell his name, but the dude who fell in love with his image! I'm talking about the image of God that you're made in? It's taken me many years, in fact many many years to realise I have it all written in here. I had a dream one nite or day, that God has given me every instruction needed to embark on this journey of life. God had written in out on three sheets of paper. 

I had read it and memorised every line and was coming out of the dream and I couldn't hold onto the pages and bring them back with me. I remember coming back to wakefulness, before the committee kick starts their day, in my head. That silent space between sleep and wake whenever you're not in one place because you have one foot in heaven and one foot on earth. My heaven once was my hell. 

So then I'm having a grief moment because I couldn't remember what was written down on those pages. As I pondered this grief I had a light bulb moment that said Hello! It's written down. Not only on paper, but on my soul. And I'll know exactly what I need to know from thereon in. And if I don't know just ask someone. Google it!

Dont you just love those Google Moments! Where's Uncle John buried? Shaking of heads all around! Hang on I'll google it! Says Shane! Carole? Tom dick Harry .....lol.l.l

Soon we'll be saying I'm having a Google Moment! We won't  know whether to smile or cry?

i must finish up now. If I've left you in the dark with my topic-queue-jumping

Tired of Living The Lie

Hello💜🕊💜

My signature which I hope projects my outgoing peace and rainbows 🕊🌈 to someone who may choose to come to know me thru my words. My words, my emotions, or lack of them, my soul bared for the world to see.

I have no secrets anymore. None of mine, nor a secret shared in my most intimate moments with friend or foe. And believe me they are many. Mine and others, but I gave my word to keep it and I shall. Don't actually have them anymore as I gave them to my maker and they are stored somewhere dark because they are precious gifts and need to mined for as is diamonds and gold. And the deeper we mine the more precious the treasure. Self awareness.....

So the lie? 

My dear friend Beryl once told me that the minute we begin to be open and honest, our family and friendship circle will dwindle. I guess I didn't want to believe it but am now finding it to be a truth. A truth! Not the truth! Even Jesus had to ask what is truth? . 

Just this past 12 months I have lived several lifetimes. As is my life. So January 20 2017 I ended a twenty five year friendship with a woman i trusted with my heart. Turns out she didn't know me as the person I had felt I shared with her all those years. I realised in an instant that I had nowhere in my heart to forgive this girl with, until now. I miss her dearly and often think of sending a message or email telling her that I miss her. But I'm unsure of her ability to have taken any responsibility for her part in the fallout? And the day I walked away from her I walked away from the lie I had been living for a few years previous.

And that ok, but I actually don't have the physical or mental, not to forget emotional, capacity to live this lie anymore. With anyone. Now I'm seeing my great grandchildren being dragged in kicking and screaming into the hell that is their lives now and in their futures.

So that ended and I managed to come down with double pneumonia. I recovered and found myself a little job making sandwiches and food preparation which is my passion, started exercising three days a week at the hydro pool, only to be taken down for $7-50 by a mean spirited boss who I only offered to help until she found staff, she thought I'm a pushover so I left. I've been abused, robbed blind and pushed around by employers, and cops and I think there's not one amongst them I would trust.

Then my friend found himself with just months to live and I offered to help and become his carer and friend as well as chaplain, until his imminent death. That is my other passion. Being among the dying process whether family or not. There is something so intimate about sharing those last weeks, days, months, hours minutes with a soul as it prepares to depart. I'm becoming more bold now in offering prayer, although it's not something I do easy. I know with my brother recently I asked God to deliver him in forgiveness and compassion to his maker in hopes he rests in eternity and we will meet again someday and finish the roles ordained us to live.

Three months intense 24/7 companionship until his final departure, saw me needing debriefing, but having limited resources I was to carry that load pretty much until this past 36hours. I let rip and confronted such a huge and overwhelming family crisis, I may lose the shreds of my broken immediate family forever, but I couldn't do it any longer. It's just too crippling to me emotionally. I warned them I am five minutes away from hitching the next plane out of here.

This past 12 months has seen my older brother finally throw in the towel and fight the good fight until just 2weeks ago. He was such a role model for me to not give his disease the pleasure of him giving into it. Amazing guy and a beautiful family he has left behind. I have a very special niece, actually I have a few and they are amazing women and are raising amazing daughters, but one I see so much of what's I would have liked to have been similar too. She has the courage to speak up for herself, unlike me.

So tonite I'm home after what I term a really good education in *reality as CG sees it* and now I sit back and see if my lecture has hit any where it was directed, or it all fell on deaf ears. Jesus said let them with ears to hear etc etc. I can only scatter the seed and see what kind of soil it falls on. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷‍♂️

Watching my decent family wallowing around in life's muddy waters with no anchor of hope to throw overboard just became a nightmare for me. My beautiful granddaughter who shines with potential, full of self loathing and tormenting mind, now again on the run from the police, high on ice and swimming among the sharks snapping away at her soul and I'm so aware of how the police are shooting our wounded, not only here but in many countries around the world.

Can anyone see how I'm feeling so bruised and emotionally battered, while still recovering from my recent fall on good Friday just past. If I had my druthers I would put my life on hold and go hide away somewhere until further notice!

Maybe I will. Thanks for letting me share my chaos tonight. I feel so much better now. I had a little pity party before and actually gave myself permission to indulge until I cleared my mind of the clutter which is what I just shared. If anyone reads this I thank you. I get feeling pretty lonely in my head because I know I'm exceptionally eccentric of mind and think entirely different to the most of the human race if that's what's I am. Hence my name CosmicGypsy because I've been flitting from star to star for all of my life. Like a butterfly looking for its perfect flower and only ever found them in Gods garden. 

So goodnite and I send all my love in peace🕊And 🌈 🌈🌈Rainbows CosmicGypsy002700 🕊💜🕊

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I'm so pleased Summer has ended and we can breathe somewhat easier with the change in weather. Soon daylight saving will also be over and I can readjust my body clock.

So today the subject of food, which is synonymous with eating disorder in respect to my life. It seems to me my problems with food have been a huge issue since a small child. I do know that for most of my growing up days I felt hungry since I could remember. Though my mother was a great cook with a knack for making the blandest food taste flavoursome, quantity was the problem. Each night, dinner consisted of meat and three vegetables, but I always left the table hungry. I learned to eat fast because the odds of food staying on my plate if I didn't were non existent. A big family coupled with me being the scapegoat most likely created that monster. Also bread, butter and jam were on the table for after the meal but that also was wolfed up if I didn't get in fast enough.

Growing up my mother used to purchase run down mixed businesses and spend a couple of years building them up financially, then we would move onto the next project. This was a bonus for me because at nite I would sneak out into the shop part of the premises and steal biscuits or lollies. That is until my sister decided to tell on me and of course it never was a favourable outcome for me.

Then I left home. The golden rule at home was to never eat away from the dining table. At age twenty I moved away from home and started to make my own rules. Of course I was determined to have opposite to whatever my parents set and because I had the self will run riot mentality with absolutely no life skills attached, my rule book was written in pencil so it could be rubbed out and rewritten again at any given time. To this day I believe my inability to contain this rampant addiction for food is the day I left the dining table with all its restrictions.

Food suddenly was available at every turn. When I first married my husband had also been restricted to the family dining table and he decided without consultation that we would eat on TV trays in front of television. So again someone wrote a rule book for me and albeit I didn't fight this new set of rules, now in hindsight I see clearly the dangers of such moves for me. Also takeaway food restaurants were starting to develop and pop up on most corners in the suburbs.

I must say fast food was never something I particularly enjoyed, other than bakeries of course. I love to cook myself and have the gift of being able to replicate my mothers great cooking skills.

So from then on I'm deemed as responsible for any food I eat. Definately not a good look for someone with an empty space/hole within as wide and deep and no hope of filling. This diet, that diet, this bulimia that anorexic, I'm on a fast train to destruction. Unbeknownst to me this was a hole in my soul of mammoth proportion where no limit is set other than the head over the toilet bowl, only to remind the empty space it once more needed filling.

Every morsel which went from hand to mouth went with a judgement, good girl/bad girl just over and over. Incredibly I also was a heavy defiant smoker of nicotine, any amount of cannabis/marijuana I wanted, alcohol, pills of the prescription kind and any illicit substance on offer on any given day. Really scary stuff frankly and yet I managed to live to this age with a body broken and worn out by those years of abuse, but I keep on keeping on, only today I'm setting new boundaries which are attainable as long as I stay focused on the prize. At this point I'm unaware of what the prize consists of but I'm looking straight ahead and trusting that just for today I can maintain a small semblance of self respect as I close down for the nite.

For all these years almost every day I would close with self abuse and punishment not only to my spirit but to my physical body also. Bloated, nauseous, and full of self condemnation for my poor self, totally unaware of the harm I did to my very being by all the abuse I gave to me.

Then about two years ago I met a lovely woman who shared her story of self harm and loathing. At that time I was fighting to delay a total knee replacement due to fear of the unknown. This sweet lady had recently been thru the same surgery and had been battling with her weight for almost the same amount of years and she shared her one day at a time journey with the 5/2 diet devised by Dr. Michael Moseley. For those who haven't heard of this miracle to many of us are living with, it's 500 calories two day a week and the other five days allegedly whatever you want. Dr.M. I don't think figured on a person like me who takes that literally and eats for Australia on the five?

However, friends, I did manage to reduce my body weight from 98kgs to 78kgs over a one year period. 20 kgs has made an enormous impact on my self worth and esteem because I finally found something that works. Trust me, the first day was a huge gamble because I was confronted with my archetype saboteur and she was ropable. How dare I just take it on myself to make that decision on my own without consulting the committee living in my head? So after a few hours of pissing and moaning about how badly off I am because after all every body else in the world can eat whatever they want and poor me has to starve.

Well I must say that's the biggest crock of crap and bloody unbelievable I could come up with that pity party in my own head. So I said to myself, self: if you can't do this for one day then you are a worthless piece of 💩?

From then on I have done every Thursday and Monday with only one exception and that's was last Christmas Day and I gave myself permission to skip that day.

Incredibly enough I managed to stay within a healthy range all day and felt quite justified in the issue of self trust I have managed to gather to mewithin these two years. Recently though I found I am looking to change the five days off as a new beginning for a better discipline base in order to halt or at least stall my obsessions with sugar laden 'treats'. I found I would consume at will, anything that took my fancy. Of course this played into the disorderly addiction of enormous amounts which subsequently sees me struggling to maintain the goal weight I'm comfortable with. 

About one year ago I purchased an app for Mindful Eating which has an hypnotic booster and it has subtly insinuated itself into an orderly desire to eat within a boundary I'm comfortable with. I recommend this if you're struggling as I have done for the major part of my life. I figure I have nothing to lose and am more than happy to take help from whichever source available when it's for the betterment of my safe wellbeing.

I don't wish to espouse perfection on any level, especially addiction, but as I have a Birdseye view of addictions insidiousness, I'm qualified on some level to give my opinion to anyone willing to compare with their own story, my life's melodrama. I'm finally at one with my eating patterns one day at a time. I'm told that life is progress and not perfection. I like that.

Please feel free to contact me if you so desire. Meantime stay as peaceful as life permits, coz it ain't getting easier. Bless you always, CosmicGypsy cg

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Welcome to CosmicGypsy A Pathway To Peace

Hello, my name is Christina or CosmicGypsy to those with whom I share rapport. Actually not too many people when it's all said and done.

Unfortunately my dealings with relationships over my lifetime have not been particularly well received as I've gone about my life. It began way back when life is supposed to be a joyous occasion, as a small child. I had extreme difficulty relating to my mother and subsequently a pattern emerged which would see me struggle to maintain any lasting relationship other than a small few who managed to overlook my glaring defects of character and give me unconditional, for want of a better word, understanding.

This is not about to become a 'poor me' dialogue that pleads a case of 'nobody loves me everybody hates me' bleeding heart monologue. This work, essay, whatever it's deemed to be is, hopefully a means for me to share my story, solely in the hope of reaching out to others who may have shared a similar life journey of solitude and aloneness, but has opened many emotional doors which ultimately have led me from a life of darkness into a stunning pool of light where peace and harmony reside.

As a young child I was given the gift of faith in a most singular and spectacular way I have never been able to leave or deny it's being. It is at age around six or seven when I somehow found myself in Sunday school, sitting cross legged on the floor in either a Methodist/Protestant of some kind, when I was suddenly plummeted onto another plane where I was in the presence of Jesus Christ who was illuminated in the most sacred light I've never experienced before or since and the instruction on that particular morning was of the Trinity and I was given, by Christ, that this was to be my journey thruout my lifetime. It is from that moment on I discovered a peace in my being of truth and hope.

Interestingly though, from there I was to set out on this awful life journey of violence, hatred and untold abuses which would see me as an adult, though a child stuck in an adult body, turn to a life filled also with alcohol, coupled with substance abuse and any addictive person, place or thing that had the propensity to destroy any hope of success in relationships with people, career, financial gain, in fact any hope of a successful future at all.

Harking back to my first experience in the Sunday school event, I want to say from that time, suddenly Religeous Education at school became something I excelled at. It fascinated me and it just never satisfied the well inside of me which hungered and thirsted for more knowledge of this subjected. In my home unfortunately I was surrounded my what was termed back in those days as heathens, and I was always at a loss to communicate any of my interest to this subject whatever. My dear mum was consumed by the idea of a punishing, vengeful God, who was watching and counting the strikes against me in particular because I became the 'go to' wicked, evil, provocative bitch, who held the wrath of God as no one else before had ever done.

My journey a a child of faith was to an outsider a lonely one. But in my heart I carried the knowledge of a loving, gentle God who walked with me in my aloneness as I went thru the motions of what the Protestant church stood for. However, whilst I went thru the motions, I always had a feeling of more, but it remained out of my grasp. Therefore after my confirmation in the Anglican Church, I wandered next door to the Catholic Church and found what I deemed to be missing from the one I had been attending for several years. Of course I took communion there and on my return home I told my mother and she took enormous delight in crowing that now I'd actually sealed my fate and if all else I had been such a sinner, this now fully gave me my entrance into hell. If it wasn't so sad it would be laughable really!

My next unexplainable visit from Christ came when I was aged about fifteen years. It was after an enormous fight I had with my mother, or at least what she had with me, when I totally disobeyed her and opened my wages envelope and spent about one quarter of it on a lovely lemon coloured twinset one of my work colleges had brought in to sell. This was an act of absolute defiance on my part, as I was distinctly told not to presume such disobedience or I would be punished accordingly. And I was. I was sent to bed without dinner and in total disgrace for my defiant action. My father also admonished me saying "How could you do this to your mother?"

So I went to bed in disgrace and hungry. I was always hungry! Never felt that feeling of satisfaction after any meal and so this nite the space inside me was enormous because my despair made it have more emphasis than before. I recall feeling so empty and bereft of love and this created such woe upon my soul that as I lay sobbing into my pillow desperately trying to force myself thru the mattress in the hopes of death and somehow leaving this desperate empty life behind me. That may sound kind of weird, but even today I can re enact that desperation of feeling in my mind as a complete want to kill myself but had no idea as to how to carry that out. For most of my life I felt this lack of any kind of hope for love or respect from my parents or siblings. I was the odd one out. The unwanted one who just happened to arrive at the end of a marriage and beginning of a new marriage which had produced two further kids who took the shine off any part of belonging wherever I fit in.

So as I sobbed into my saturated pillow, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. A warm comforting hand, which I mistook for my fathers hand, who in that split second I had thought had come to offer some comfort to me in my despair. As I turned and sat up I saw there was no one standing there. But that beautiful light I had encountered back in the Sunday school event was there and the very same peace I had gathered from that encounter with Christ came back and settled around my heart. Once more and probably I would say, I felt an even greater knowledge and peace of mind because it showed me I'm never alone and I'm never left in such a desperate loneliness, ever! If it is possible I guess my faith doubled from then on and I'm left in no doubt whatever in my chosenness! So in fact my father did come to offer me comfort, but not my given parent, but the one who chose me for this amazing partnership in which I am a willing participant.

i want to say here that I am not out to convert anyone! My sole reason of sharing my faith story is to offer it to anyone who hurts as I hurt. I know today that God, however you choose to believe God to be, or not, has the capacity to touch any life whether they be open or closed to the faith journey. I've seen too many miracles in my life which reveal Gods love and commitment to the human race. I only know my story and how it fits me. But please know my intentions are pure and my mission is to reach out to someone who's hurting and or lonely and if some comfort is found in my journey then it's all worthwhile. 

My journey in the Catholic Church continued and I had a yearning in my spirit to become a nun. Or a movie star!  Of course having no real education, being unteachable and the class clown I spent more time standing outside the classroom that sitting in it. Once more I became a victim to any teacher who was inclined to punish students and of course back in those days teachers were allowed to punish students with an object such as a strap or cane, chalk duster or a hand. I was a good target there because I was so strictly disciplined at home and forcefully punished, what was dished out at school paled in comparison, and so I admit to being a brat and possibly even uncontrollable to some standard.

As I marched into early teens I guess my mother saw me only as a wage earner and so when my third year of secondary learning saw me with an 8/100 score for arithmetic and 48/100 for English and only Religeous education and oddly enough mothercraft/domestic as passing levels, I was removed at age thirteen and a weekend away from fourteen, she found me my first full time work in Coles on the lolly counter of all places. Other than stuffing my face frequently I was pretty good at what I did. Work did suit me better that school, and fortunately the bullying came to an end. At least on the school front. It never stopped in the home and in fact increased as soon boarders and family members from first family situation began to come live with us and I must admit all were given unwritten permission to violate me whether with words or physical violence. And that's just the half of it.

I was an alone girl. I think I looked decent enough but of course any ideas I had about liking myself or any kind of self respect was always cut down by my mothers vicious tongue and seeming hatred of me. She loved to remind me on a weekly basis that if ever, and though she seriously doubted it some bloke was desperate enough to ask me to marry him then I should jump at the opportunity because there wouldn't be another likely candidate in a hurry! Now in hindsight that's ridiculous because never a week went by that I didn't have several men calling or asking me for a date. Never did I sit out at dances my sister and I attended. And they always came back to aks me again. Strange that because I never felt attractive, though I must say that has been a lifetime of me attracting men and women to me, and I never really had to try. Problem I find though is that many of the people I attract to me seem to think I'm someone or something I'm not. I think some men think I'm a domestic goddess with a warm loving heart, when in fact I'm not in any way domestic, maternal or homeloving. Housework is something that only needs to be done when disorder is so pronounced I begin to trip over stuff. Kids are sweet and fun until they start being brats. And home is somewhere to hide when the world gets too loud or hard or vicious and home of course is the best place to eat and sleep. Other than that I'm a gypsy in mind and spirit. 

Of course my parents and possibly the rest of the household took me for a slut who slept with all those men who came knocking on my door. This fact could be no further from the truth. I was in fact waiting for this knight in shining armour who would come and whisk me away to a faraway place where I would be adored and cherished just like it read in the romance novels I couldn't take my eyes off at any given time. And the music of the 50's and 60's always sang of love and forever. Besides I only had shreds of my virginity left, because the abuse took a more evil intent thruout my short years of life on earth. But no need to go further with that story at present.

Because this is my first attempt at sharing by blog I think maybe that's enough for now.  I have so many stories to share and it's important to me to treat each story with the importance of how they affected my life thus far. Each story whether it be about love, hate or violence should be respected for its own personal intensity of how it's impacted me or another. It's really quite sad to me that every day and every encounter with this human life has had every good intention on my part, and yet I have hurt countless people and broken many hearts along the way. After all these years I'm still so naive in many ways yet can also been cunning and devious when it came to saving my life from complete ruin and even death.

Each step along my path, though it has been mostly on impulse I have found my God always there with saving grace and wisdom in retreat from potential disaster. Like I said earlier I waited in ernest for my knight in shining armour in the physical realm and failed to see he was already mounted in the spiritual world just waiting for me to reach out. And I have time and time again.

I have many regrets over a lifetime where I could have chosen a different path but in realistic terms I must ask myself would I be where I am today with my faith or could I have lost that which is most precious to me in the here and now.

To the outside world I possibly look like a failure as behind me I have three broken marriages, I've lost several homes and most of my family due to wrong choices, alcohol abuse and drug addiction and today I live in a tiny granny pad, in back of a friends home, tucked away in a culdasak where few can find me, but I'm happy for the most. I have a few people in my life who invite be back and know I'm trustworthy which is definately a huge difference from my previous life. I will continue to write this story as the time goes by. I did write a biography several years ago, but due to some outpouring of hatred aimed at me I failed to go forth and promote it. It's very badly edited because at the time I had no idea how to do that. I always apologised to anyone I gave a copy to that it was rushed thru the publishing because my partner at the time was very ill and I was caring for him as he prepared to die, so I made the excuse the reason I hurried was because of time needed as he wanted to see it published before he died. Partly true but most because I never really finish things to proper conclusion and truth is I am impatient and don't know how. So like I said I can be cunning when it suits me, and this was a time as such, when it was easier to pass the buck and blame another circumstance. 

Jumping back to my late teens, I did meet someone who gave my heart its first real taste of yearning. Previous to this meeting, I fell in and out of love on a regular basis. At least once a week and if It carried on longer than that then I assure you it wasn't much longer. The difference with this dude was after he took the shreds of my virginity I willingly gave him, he climbed back on his horse and rode off into the sunset, never to return. I waited and waited for his return and finally realised as late as ten years ago that he was no different to all the other guys along the way. But it's ok because my heart mended and recovered enough to love another day.

At age twenty one I married an older man and my life suddenly took on another dimension of being. It was only days into this marriage I realised I could hear the doors of my self imposed prison cell clang shut and bolted from outside where no escape was likely any time soon. Of course I still had my faith in God and I never strayed from that but a new layer of film had grown across my eyes which prevented me from looking my god in the eye. It was like with each passing day the shutters to my vision blurred and my distance from God was becoming far from reach. Does that make sense to anyone else out there? It does to me and of course as the gap widened my fear grew and I began to evolve into a shrinking violet who became increasingly more powerless and so decided the only way forward was to have a child!

Within the six months it took for me to reach this decision I was introduced to pornography, I was already a fairly heavy smoker, and had finally found I could fill this empty space within with food food glorious food. I was just twenty two years young and a shopping list big enough to feed the full defence force and then some. Sitting here in hindsight I can see the recipe for disaster just waiting to be baked and I baked it up a storm.

I was pregnant on my first attempt and actually felt like I had it made. I was now about to have a child and it would be mine and no one could take it from me! Oh shit! There would come a time in the not too distant future when I would wish to God someone would take it from me. Because for the simple reason I had dug myself into an even deeper hole that I'd had before. I went to the hospital  That day thinking this was it! It was it but not what I thought. In fact quite the opposite. When I started labour pains I suddenly was catapulted into hell. No one had prepared me for what was about to happen to my body! And for twelve hours I stayed in hell and at the end of it I got this little stranger whom I believed had come from the place I'd been in for twelve hours and she was about to turn my life not only upside down but like I was in a washing machine of the ancient kind that agitated on and on and had no off switch.

i will say I was good at taking care of someone's felt needs. But absolutely no idea of how to deal with emotional needs and this child was as hungry as I was and like me couldn't find satisfaction in anything, earthly at least. Then after a few months I could see the only solution was to have another one. Child that is! Anyone see a pattern here?

ok I truly think that's enough for now. I would really like to continue at another time so will say goodbye for now. I must work out now how to set this to the site I've setup and because I'm a novice I'll be tentative as to how it will reach anyone. We'll see and you please be kind to yourself as you are precious, CosmicGypsy CG 

 

Hello again 🕊Well I just somehow lost three hours of words I wrote this morning! While I'm somewhat miffed about that I just have to believe it wasn't meant to be posted out in the public domain. It reminds me of a time I completed a 4000 word essay which needed to be in the next day, and my ego overrode my need to be careful as I decided to go flirt with a young guy who came to fix my car. So I failed to save my work and my cat decided to dance across my keyboard and delete every word. My knowledge if technology is so very limited so I just had to bite the bullet and rewrite to the best of my ability.

I was writing about family/domestic violence which has whiteanted my being as a dominant factor for most of my 72 years. But I'll leave that for another day because my faith journey has also been a very prominent part also and it's much nicer to remind myself of the positive rather then the horror of D/FV. But I will return to that subject because it had a horrid outcome for me in particular but more so for the worst recipient of its outcome. Sadly I'm still often violated by family abuse due to social media, but now I've learned how to delete a person wishing to cause me harm, I'm aware they will get to me thru this medium if they so desire.

The other day I realised the only claim to fame I have to feel validated by is that I am an alcoholic and have remained alcohol free for thirty one years and seven months! That's no mean feat for a daily, fall down drunk with absolutely no handle on life skills other than what the drink and drugs gave me. That's it! I guess you could call me Koala which means in First People's vernacular 'no drink.' That's my silly sense of humour on display there 🤗

I owe my sobriety to divine intervention which is for the most of whatever good has come from my life has been thru the channels of love. I was forty years old when I found myself on charges of grievous bodily harm coupled with fraud and deception charges, managing to escape prison along with yet another intervention by the psychiatric, mental health people who along with my daughters deemed me unfit to be in the community. Thru some magic on the part of the spiritual realm I found myself boarding a plane to the United States believing I was going there where John Denver would be waiting to marry me and save me from the hell that was my life! 😍Yep I truly believed that!

It was 1985. The father of my children had died suddenly leaving us bereft of the prop he had become in order that I should stay afloat. My 15 year old had just given birth to our first grandchild and he just dropped dead out of the blue with no warning and I was at the bottom of the crap heap with vile dung which permeated every corner of my life. I was a disgusting, literally flea infestered pile of compost rotting from the inside out. So as I ducked and weaved to escape police and mental health authorities until somehow among the rubble I scraped enough money and courage to get a passport together and get out of the country in January 1986! Today I find it odd that I was even able to get a passport with my criminal record still fresh and in particular the severity of the charges, but it happened and I set off for yet another adventure with absolutely no idea of how I would survive.

What am I doing here?

Well hello again. The heading I'm writing under today is more about my inability to understand how to use this site in a way I'm able to communicate to some outside my sphere of place, where hopefully I can reach hearts of broken people who may find comfort from my chaotic life experience in ways only we will know how? My experience of the spiritual, mental and emotionally challenges encountered along the way were very disturbing due to my crippling fear of rejection, betrayal and of course 'the unknown'.

Way back in early '70s I suffered a mental breakdown of mammoth proportion. In hindsight it's not hard to understand why as in those years I was married to a man whose sexual appetite was identical to my gaping emotional hole, and his bff decided he was getting in on the action and so at least weekly he would call by with penis in hand and demand, what in some strange notion was his god given right. Of course the victim in me had no choice but to obey as was my custom.

So after a couple of instances, the almost catastrophic event was when I set alight to the laundry in the basket awaiting washing, which ultimately almost destroyed our home. The anniversary of that was just two days ago and the reminder always sends chills up my spine to think of the lengths I was prepared to go for someone to hear my agony, and yet still no one did!

It was four months of institutional treatment resulting in blackout status for five years. When I next have recollection my baby girl was in school, I was working as a welfare officer and I had been gifted with a best friend.

I'm trying to get around to speaking of how violence of domestic and family kind finally took its toll. Staying on topic is difficult for me because there are so many stories within stories and I do get sidetracked easily.

Last week I had been to a group where I'm finally getting around to addressing these issues and after hearing one lass' struggle it caused me to reflect on the very worst of my story. Violence and abuse as you may know was a major and contributing factor in my entire life, but nothing really compares with a man I met and married after my nine year stint with the father of my children. My mother always had a proverb for just about every life scenario and a gem she threw around often was "jumping from the frying pan into the fire!"

Well I sure as heck did that with number two husband. I was warned. I was told in no uncertain terms by his first wife that "I know you think he's wonderful now but just wait. In about three months he'll come home drunk, sleep for a short while and when you next see him the monster will have emerged!"

My reaction was typical I suppose of a woman so madly in love with the idea of 'the dream', my inner reaction was that she didn't want him and didn't want anyone else to have him either, so I just ignored her warning as a pathetic attempt to ruin his life.

Well it happened exactly as she predicted. I must say here I was also in full flight under the spell of alcohol at my disposal because prior to this I was very limited because husband number one kept me under guard for everything, especially booze. Laughable really because even having financial restrictions I always was able to obtain alcohol. Because #2 practically lived at the hotel and always had generous supply I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

It wasn't long before the beatings began. At first it was just an occasional push, shove or slap, but after a couple of years it became more vicious, but the pattern was set. The mental cruelty and the emotional violence I had been subject to my whole life had now reached an all time high and any semblance of self esteem/value vanished. I forgave over and over. I left but was back within hours under promises of new beginnings and for a short time things were rosy and happy. My capacity to forgive still creates uncertainty in me at this ripe old age, but hopefully things are changing now with my boundaries finally taking shape.

There are two very memorable events in my mind when I fought him back, and two other events I recall with vivid precision, though didn't have hospital or court outcomes.

One nite during a drunken fight I was knocked down, hitting my head which caused me to go unconscious. Our children were in the house, my daughters and his son. My stepson intervened bringing me a coffee mug filled with water to help me recover consciousness. He was aged thirteen. He held my head in his hands and as I came back when I opened my eyes his fist was coming directly toward his sons face. I took the mug away from my mouth, in reflex and smashed it in my violent husbands face. It all happened so fast there was absolutely no thought just reflex in play.

Of course it resulted in an ambulance trip to hospital as I had managed to cut an artery in his bottom lip which resulted in massive blood flow. This then started a new punishment regime for me because no one apparently had ever dared take him on, possibly because he was a rather huge giant of a man and was a different guy to his mates and drinking buddies at the hotel.

I had one man who wasn't too afraid of him and that was the publican at out drinking hole. Several times he called my home to warn me prior to his homecoming, that I need to watch my step because he was on the warpath. I admit I had learned to read the sound of the handbrake being pulled on, on his arrival home from work and or drinking place.

Then one nite in July, early eighties, I was going out with my bff for dinner to celebrate our tenth friendship anniversary. I was deeply unhappy within this home riddled with violence, alcohol and hatred. Our children were running wild due to our inability to know better and my heart was shattered that yet another marriage was so ugly and I really had come to believe I was the absolute shame of my family, as a mother and wife. My life was so unmanageable and chaotic and yet I never could envision how to change it. Everyday was Groundhog Day. I held down a full time position as cook for upto five hundred meals a day, I kept our home running to brilliant schedule, fed and clothed our family without batting an eyelid but no conceivable clue how to make it differs.

So my nite in July saw me drink a full bottle of port and arrive at six pm about as sober as humanly possible considering that kind of booze intake. Husband demanded I was not to leave the house tonite, because he demanded it to be so. I'm still unsure how I found the guts to go regardless? 

I went along with my wonderful friend and we shared a lovely nite. I do get amused to see from hindsite my amazing capacity to go out and have a great time, be eight hours a day, five day a week in my workplace, and am able to enjoy myself, when my life is like a runaway train 🙃!

I drank so little that nite because I wanted it to be memorable for her and I, as our friendship, I'm aware, is one in a lifetime and somewhere in my befuddled state I knew that. 

God, I hope someone out there will read this because it's huge to have to revisit these ugly times, and I have some kind of mechanisms wired in my brain to actually relive, like go back into that nite, regathering all those emotions, or lack of them and feeling again what every sensation felt like. Surely theres a label for this kind of mind I have?

On my return home a mate was there. One of my one nite stands I somehow managed to slide into my mad life, but he was just one of the many as I sought refuge in my own capacity to cope. Having sex with anyone who was happy to pay for the room and the booze or drug or just to have sex so I could heap more and more disgust, guilt and shame on myself for becoming exactly what they said I was.

Doesnt matter really now, but glancing backward I know in my heart who I am today. I know everything I've done with a clarity that is scary, was done because I didn't know better. I knew in my ❤️ I was out of control, but no clue how to stop it.

This is where I get misty eyed when I go back to look at the tapestry of my life, from back here, I'm also fortunate to be given a different kind of sight, where I see my life's road map. I can see every last detail the good the bad and the ugly but now as I gaze in the mirror I see Jesus standing beside me and I have no fear to face the sonnet that is my life. 

I see every Divine intervention and the lesson I learned from each experience which are banked and safe in eternity. I've had face to face encounters with God but cannot even try to describe what that looks like on any human level. Our language is wonderful, but heavenly vernacular is only relatable to other seers. I'm not magic. I can't perform miracles, though I dearly wish I could sometimes, but the miracles I am aware of are what got me to where I am today. They are miracles which tells me how easy yet terrifying life building from scratch can be.

One must be willing to let go absolutely. It means being willing to go to any lengths to stay within the boundaries of decency, according to my own shiny new, self taught life insurance policy. My God is big enough to put me on an elastic band which allows me to decide for myself, how much pain do I want to be in today? In otherwise make mistakes alongside the way, but don't lose site of my own moral code and treat others as I want, no demand, they treat me with same, or don't knock on my door again with your bag full of  sorries. I wrote a song for that. I'll post it next time.

Sorry went off the rails again. July 80's: Hubby went for nap. Usual 20 minutes. Then came swinging punches at me, while mate runs out the front door, in such a rush to protect, pushed the commodore out of our drive, and got the hell away from there.

 

 

Here goes again. Today we're enjoying ☔️ rain. It's been a long time.

I'm back to hopefully finish what I started, again. In my attempt to write offline I lost yet another hour of work as I detailed that fateful nite in July when the bar of possibility was raised for me as I grappled with self protection from domestic violence once more. 

I do hope this is a continuation from the other day when I tried to add. If not I'll leave it to you to put the pieces together. So like I said hubby 2, went for his short drunken nap, then rose roaring like a mad bull, attacking me in front of his mate I had pleaded with to leave when he'd gone to nap twenty minutes prior. This mate was convinced this bully he loved and trusted so much would not attack him in his wrath. Well he was right about that, because cowards only beat up on smaller people in particular women. Within seconds of his rising I witnessed yet another coward as this mate ran from my home even pushing my car from the driveway in his haste to retreat.

So now I'm alone with this mad crazy basher and as he dragged me around the circular hall, dining and kitchen area into the living room, then back to the kitchen, by the hair no less, he finally let me go. My hair was lying in clumps on the floor and my only defence was to rip his singlet from his body as I tried to defend myself. As I lay on the floor he attacked me viciously with his tongue as when I was able to rise to my feet I pulled the knife from its scabbard (it was glued to the kitchen wall) and waved it around crying out "all you're worthy of is this knife in your guts!"

He began to goad me saying "Cmon cunt, c'mon cunt, you wouldn't have the guts?"

I continued my stance for about one minute with his abuse goading, goading and then he screamed in my face "Not only are you a slut and a whore so are those two cunts of daughters you own!" 

Then my red rage turned to white and I literally stood outside of myself and plunged the knife into his abdomen. An overwhelming calmness then came over me as I stood observing the next moments when I reached for the phone and called the ambulance. I quietly told the operator I had stabbed my husband and he was bleeding profusely.

It seemed like moments until the police came thru the front door. But he had pulled out the knife, wiped it over my clothes and gone to the bathroom to get a towel to contain the bleeding. He kept yelling "You're mad you cunt," even as the ambulance arrived and took him away to hospital.

The police were very kind to me really. Though I have since had lots of dealings with cops and I must say to my mind, they are not nice people for the majority and with family and domestic violence they have no bloody idea of what we suffer at the hands of violent, bullying men. I'll reserve my judgement of what I really think for now..

I was allowed to call my BFF back and she came and the police allowed her to drive me to the police station to be fingerprinted, interviewed and bailed. It was an awful experience for me and till that ugly time in my life I had an impeccable record.

While he was patched up, sent home and remained untouched by the law, I was charged, marked for life both physically, mentally and so deeply in my soul emotionally by losing control and beaten almost to a pulp, I still stayed there and begged forgiveness from this vicious man. You see I was totally beaten as a woman who no longer felt any self worth or value and I could see no way out other than to stay there and from here on believe that all the years of ridicule, criticism and character assassination had to be true because I had finally proven them right!

The next few months went by in a kind of blurr with me returning to work on the Monday morning almost like nothing of any consequence had occurred. Fortunately I worked with some very influential people, especially women, who liked and respected me immensely and so I was able to get some excellent references which told of my good character and propensity to remain among society as no threat or danger to any community I associated with.

My husband decided I should leave the home and fend for myself from thereon and so I took my daughters and we moved into the local caravan park. Not before he took very ill around seven days after the attack on him. He almost died in those day because the medical staff had failed to diagnose an artery bleeding from the heart to the lung. I had insisted he went back to the hospital for a couple of reasons. One he was only drinking two bottles of beer after work and he was looking very off colour in those days which alarmed me greatly. He followed my advice and was taken into emergency surgery immediately.

When the surgery was over the surgeon phoned me to say she had repaired him perfectly and from here on his health was no longer any fault of mine. I cannot even begin to say here what relief that bought to my mind.

So I moved out and for three months as I awaited my court date I ran amok. My girls began to walk all over me as my drinking escalated to a point of absolute disgust. There was no boundaries drawn for me because now I was writing my own script for my life and I was self will run riot. With no idea of rule book or order in me it was total madness as I slept around the caravan park with just anyone. Oddly enough I worked everyday, earned enough to feed, clothe and drink myself to oblivion most nites, and took no heed to my daughters needs other than feed, clothe and send them to school.

I missed my abuser so much it hurt. I waited for the court date and was relieved when he admitted he was bashing me that nite which subsequently saw my charges dropped to grievous bodily harm for which I received a good behaviour bond for twelve months.

I can barely believe what I'm about to tell you next, but it happened and I need to own it!

That same nite I went back to the family home and when he admitted me inside I cried and begged him to take me back home. I swear I loved him so much if he didn't take me back I would just die. This all took place in almost the spot where I had stabbed him as I grovelled on my knees, literally to forgive me and let me back into his life.

So he stood me to my feet and I thought he was going to take me in his arms and forgive me, but instead he spat in my face and I just stood there sobbing my love for him as his phlegm ran down my face mingling with my tears as he finally consented to me coming home to resume our marriage for my final chance to prove my love and devotion to him.

I kid you not! That's exactly how it played out that nite.

If I dared to think those years prior were bad, the next five months was a nightmare of mammoth proportion. I'd been a simpering, whiny victim before, now I was so subservient beyond belief. I was the perfect whipping girl for him now. He could mould me and violate me in ways I never imagined. He told me that beyond a shadow of a doubt he was going to make certain he would kill me in a way he would not pay for and never underestimate what he was going to do.

I did believe him and I was quite afraid, and tempered my drinking because I didn't doubt him and his intimidating presence haunted me in my every waking moment. He was cruel, demeaning, violent, cold, calculating in these next months until my self esteem was damaged beyond belief.

Many nites I was literally pushed from the house, battered but on a lesser scale from the past, but I learned to outwait his wrath and go back home in the morning or sit in the car and wait for him to invite me back inside. Then one nite something changed. My fears were realised and I came to a place of knowing time was up and I needed to move on.

It was early March 1983. I sustained an injury in my workplace to my back. The injury took place months prior but I was so beaten down I continued to work with it until the time came to stop and face imminent surgery to correct it. My mental state was broken almost beyond repair and the violence at home only served to create a fragile state of being to which I was defenceless.

I managed to purchase a wreck of a car but was forbidden to leave it anywhere near the home and so my step son took it to his wife's family property about six kilometres away. Such was the uncertainty of my tenure at home I had hidden a set of keys to the car and the house in a safe place in order to help me in crisis.

One nite when such violence occurred I was literally kicked from my bed and pushed out the front door stark naked being told to fuck off and never return. Our children were all with their other parent and so at least they'd weren't subjected to this ugly spectacle.

I took a sheet from the clothes line, wrapped it around myself and walked, keys in hand, to collect my battered up old car. Six kilometres and I was stuffed. My back was raging with pain, but I couldn't give in. One great blessing was the country roads were deserted and so my shame was limited. I found the car and drove as quietly as possible and parked down the road from our house and sneaked stealthily, put the key in the door and breathed a sigh of relief that it appeared he was asleep in our bedroom.

Nope! As I shut the door behind me he lunged at me from behind the door and started to pummel me viciously. The sheet that covered me fell to the floor as I defended myself against the punches and tried my hardest to fight back. It was a dreadfully violent attack on me which had begun earlier at the football club when he had attacked me in front of many of his mates at the après football barrel. He had come up behind me as I stood talking to friends and poured his beer into my hoody hat and put in onto my head watching and ridiculing me as the beer poured down my face. Humiliating to say the least! 

Back to my struggle to protect myself behind the door with a barrage of punches coming my way, a voice from within my head or audible from some force demanded me to "Be Still!" The voice was so commanding I stopped instantly. Because somewhere inside me I knew this fight seemed to resonate within, that this 'fight' was 'to the death!'

When the bully realised I had stopped fighting him, he backed off. He gave me one last shove and staggered past me, leaving me to my own devises. He went to bed, and I gingerly went to the girls bedroom and spent the nite awake and fearing he might just decide to resume the bashing thru the nite.

He didn't and it finally hit me that I needed to leave or I will die by his hand, either by accident or by his intention. How I could leave was my next dilemma. I knew not how to leave, until I remembered my very own advice to a woman I had been attending in the position of Family Aide, prior to the job I was employed at presently. My suggestion to her was to set a date in the near future and proceed to work toward that date in removing herself and her children from a situation I faced in my own life. Wasn't it Jesus who said "Physician Heal Thyself?"

So I did, and I did. I set a date and I left on that date. I told him on that morning as he prepared to leave for work. He pleaded with me to stay but I knew better now. It was April 8th 1983. The beginning to the next ugly chapter of my life. But thank you God, the next chapter was very very ugly, but it ended with a world of possibly for me to explore.

I think this is enough for now. Please sit with my pain for a small encounter because I think it's important to know if you're in a similar place right now or possibly could be in the future, just how someone can impulsively act under pressure, even when they're a victim and can't stand up to set a boundary as one would expect. It's a very scary thought even to me at this age that I paid such a high price to learn that lesson to this extreme. To think I had the power to almost take a life because of an inability to vocalise my need to not be battered anymore.

So please listen to your heart and heed the warning signs of enough is enough. I wish for all beautiful things to each and every human being. We deserve nothing but the best. Blessings of peace and rainbows 🌈 from CosmicGypsy002700 CG