Friday 10 February 2012

See you Stigmum, a song

She could never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter now it’s gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

See you, lovely Stigmum
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every blog day
I’m really gonna miss you...

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She’ll tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothing’s gained
And nothing’s lost
At such a cost

See you, lovely Stigmum
I won’t hang a name on you
When you change with every new day
I’m always going to love you...

There's no time to lose, I’ve heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Hold your dreams
She helps to ease my mind.
When life’s unkind

See you, lovely Stigmum
Who could hang a name on you
When you change with every blog day
I’m really going to miss you...

See you, lovely Stigmum
I won’t hang a name on you
When you change with every new day
I’m always going to love you...

(Rolling Stones featuring me though Stiggers is much better at messing up fantastic songs!)

Note to my son

My son my sun my son
I love you
Not because you say I'm beautiful
but because of who you are

Who are you?
You are my sun
I will continue to fight for you
Fight for a secure home for you
Fight for a secure education for you
Fight these things so many take for granted.
I will always fight for you

I've got to fight for me now
I have to fight for me
I have to fight for me to fight for you
Without me you'd be so sad
I can't let you be sad
my beautiful, intelligent, funny
gigglesome, cheeky, kind, AWESOME
child
Thank you for blessing me
Hug you at 3.30
Thank God
BIIIIIIIIIG HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG

Note to the blogging community

Behind this faceless avatar is a good blog.
Yep, a good blog with some fabulously rubbish posts, some fabulously brilliant ones, some neither nor.

Some of you know this and I thank you a thousand times for following and commenting or both. You know who you are.

I just want to ask, though funny to ask the day I leave, if you've landed here and find a post interesting and it leads you to write your own on the back of it, could you credit Stigmum, or leave a comment with her? It's what I do with bloggers and their posts that resonate with me.

Cyberspace is so huge, so infinite, millions of us, tapping away on our keyboards. It's a way of sharing, connecting, acknowledging, applauding.

I know Communities spin off into smaller communities but I am not part of those, per se. I follow who I follow who don't necessarily follow me and I read what I read. Do it if you're not a blogger, start writing, do it for yourself, I highly recommend.

Also, I still can't access Single Mother's Journal who (on this day) still follows me!

Do we get some kind of cybercred for being blocked? Blocked for inciting kindness?

Oh yeah baby, I rock!

Note to future employer

If you are reading this then I told you that for the past three years and a little bit, I've been writing a blog.

Judge only the woman in the interview (and not badly;))

This is not me, not anymore.

Do not judge;accept.

This is a casestudy. It is a cyber document about how statutorily homeless people feel, through the eyes of one mother, who felt, who feels (who has to move on...)
There are some tips too, hidden in these depths, on how to cope.

A terrific skill you know, empathy.

Enjoy what you read

but judge me not

I could be anybody, even you.

Listen up ConDems, Parenting is the most important job in the world



I was thinking earlier that this God-forsaking coalition claims a hypocritical belief in Christian values, which is why of course, it is attacking the most vulnerable - Children through their parents, disabled men, women and children.

I wanted them to watch this video from Lorna Byrne and stop attacking mothers, beating them with an iron rod, chasing them into non existant jobs, or jobs that don't pay.

Then this morning, while in the coffee shop, I happen to glance the front page of The Times.

The coalition is going to offer tax breaks to mothers!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So afraid of losing the female vote, they're going to throw money our way!!!

Hang on; wealthy mothers. Only wealthy mothers.

Wealthy working mothers can get a tax break for their cleaners, babysitters, gardeners. They already get a tax break for their nannies. I'm told Council Leader in the playground can put his and his wife's childcare on expenses. Neither of them are fighting to keep our "it's not viable" after school club open.

ALL PARENTING IS THE MOST IMPORTANT JOB IN THE WORLD

HELP NEEDS TO GO TO THE MOST VULNERABLE, NOT BE TAKEN AWAY FROM THEM IN A "WELFARE REFORM" EXERCISE AND GIVEN TO THOSE WHO HAVE MORE THAN ENOUGH.

To just go back to dreamland a minute, I said to He Who Said I Was Hot, that the very job I'd love to outsource would be cleaning. It's a pipedream for a low earner after childcare, school dinners, music lessons, after school clubs. As it is, one of those will have to go...wish it was childcare, I can do that myself.

Help ALL mothers, don't hurt them.

Children feel everything.

Thursday 9 February 2012

The Government is bad for our health

If I have made myself ill it is because the Government has made me ill.
I have tried not to allow it to get to me but it depresses me; makes me angry, gets me pissed off. I can only articulate it on here, it silences me in reality, renders me mute. "I don't like it when you're in your daydream head mummy," says my son. I may go to the Women's Centre and start articulating it there. I told them I'd pop by, when I met them at the lobby.

If I have made myself ill it is because of recurring evictions and a State that can but won't stop this cycle; won't regulate rents or build affordable homes. It's disgusting, disgusting what's going on. Private landlords aren't dropping rents and housing associations are increasing theirs. I know all this because the perk, if you like, of being in a need of housing situation, is that you have access to what social and council properties are available and for how much they are going for.

All this makes me ill.

A government who forces me out to work during a recession, when I have a job already. I'm a childminder, though paid less. Oh, doesn't my child count?

Is motherhood not valued anymore?
Is it a 'non job'?

Is that why lone parents aren't given social housing anymore, because they don't "work"?

This government has put me on ESA, with its damning policies and legislations.

Everytime I get better I get knocked down.

A nation of knocked down people.

I'm no different to a criminal forced to do community service - voluntary work by another name - internships - we won't pay you - and we'll take away the childcare so you have nowhere to outsource your primary occupation - ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa.

I love writing this shit.
I could keep writing it, keep writing it if it makes ONE PERSON THINK

I've got to stop thinking though. That's what's got me into my mess, well, according to Louise Hay, according to me.

Angry, pissed off, hurting, hurting hurting hurting

A nation of angry, pissed off, hurting people.

A generation of children living with angry, pissed off, hurting people, bounced from one home to another, overcrowded, cold, in debt.

I wanted to give you a happy ending. Oh! I can't!

"By the time people wake up, the damage will have been done," the Ed said to me.

Yeah...

Read all about it! Read all about it!!

I have to rest now, think of my son.

My son, my sun, my son

I'm blessed, that's the problem isn't it Prime Minister?

What sexual direction does one go in?

Before my libido flew out my window like a migrating swan (oh come back! Come back!) this thought is what crossed my mind (both genders for blogging purposes):

I can choose to eat different men/women for breakfast
I can choose to eat the same man/woman for breakfast

Which would you choose?

Sexual healing for women

A conversation with a friend the other day who hasn't had a boyfriend for years and years and years and he didn't treat her very well anyway so confidence about getting a boyfriend is at all time low.
"Do you masterbate?" I asked her, quite uncomfortably actually. It wasn't long ago I could ask that question about myself.
Anyway, I suggested to look around a website I found
This is an article I ended up on that I believe could be beneficial to many women:

http://www.the-clitoris.com/n_html/how_to_have_female_orgasms.htm

I've not done the exercises yet, can't imagine doing them as I write this (ie, I've not got my hand down my pants) but it can be isolating being unhappily single, so get to know yourself and start to feel empowered by who you are.

For many women, the answer lies simply in giving yourself permission to be a sexual being, and by taking possession of your sexuality. You need to define your sexuality rather than allowing others to do it for you. For most, it is not a question of creating your sexuality but accepting it in its current form. The problem may not be your body and sexuality, but rather what you have been attempting to do with or to them. Learning to accept and celebrate your sexuality may be as simple as reading through this website to gain a greater understanding of your body and sexuality. (The-Clitoris.com)

OK?

An observation

My nine year old son came back giggling from Kung Fu the other day telling me what he and his friends had been up to in the changing rooms.
Seems one was thrusting his hips out saying "Lick me lick me suck me suck me!"
My son responded similarly: "Bow to me bow to me!" and I couldn't help laughing at his contagious giggle.

"Do you think the girls were doing the same in their changing rooms?" I asked him. "Bow to me, bow to me!"

"Uurgh!" he says. "Who'd want to snog hair?"

It's not the first time I've heard him say this so instead of ignoring him, like I did before I said: "When you're older you'll grow hair too you know but what you have to realise is our bits are inside us where it's not hairy. Your bits are outside, our bits are inside!"

My son looks at me.

"Why did God make us different?"

I give you our conversation because double standards exist in our society. We as individuals may feel liberated but within wider society we are judged very differently to men. Good girls don't have sex ey? A myth propogated by society, by families in many instances.

I also write this because I'm going to put a link to a website I found on a different post - labeled, well, sexual healing I guess!

It's for women like me who have to learn to reconnect to themselves and not be afraid.

Oh, and I do believe God gave me a son because I am such a sexual fuck up there was a danger I'd fuck up my daughter. Honestly, I didn't have the first clue though I'm getting one now. That's just me though, I make no judgement on anyone else.

Bow to me, Bow to me!

Feels rushed, leaving

We're not packing to move house this time
I don't want to leave
Half term though (already!)
a good time to go

I didn't give myself time
after the breakdown
As soon as I felt strong, well
back to blogging!!

This began as a casestudy
It began as dumping ground
A casestudy about a statutorily homeless mother on benefits
A dumping ground for me so I didn't dump on my friends

My sixteen year old self is awake though
Doesn't want me to be writing this stuff
I have to listen to her
Reconnect

This blog is actually a love story
It's one person supporting another
It's what you have to do
I have to make a break

Re-union
Re-pair
Re-member
My-self

Wednesday 8 February 2012

Blogging in Two Directions

Instinctively I know that my writing will go in two directions before the end of week when Stiggers and I will take a break.

One is SEX (Oh stigs, love, love baby, let's stay and talk about that, explore that...we've never done that, not really, not positively, hopefully, beautifully, naturally, our confidence only just beginning, so fragile..)
The other is THE USUAL CRAP
I have to mention THE USUAL CRAP because if I am going to blame myself for what I am going through, I believe the cause is not SEX but THE USUAL CRAP.

THE USUAL CRAP is making us all ill and who can change things?
The Government
Who won't change things?
The Government
Who must therefore change things?
US

I will have to go and put Stiggers' words into action. All her words, be they SEX or THE USUAL CRAP, and do something positive with her/my knowledge.

Now I must go away and figure how to post it. Which should I focus on first? Oh dilemmas...they are the making of one's life, no?

Thank you for listening and have a good day.

Bad bacteria on push bikes

Here's what my lower abdomen pain feels like (do tell me if you've ever had the same, it's a horror not knowing as you may know)

Like there are bicycle handlbars down there and hundreds of bad bacteria hanging onto them and when the mood takes them, they pull on the brakes and I go 'aaargh' because I wasn't expecting it.

"You feel a squeeze you mean?" said my sister, and the doctor when I saw her. Oh bless those with command of simple language! Oh bless Stigmum and her creativity!!

The bacteria were braking, nay, squeezing, alot during "Shame" (aargh, there it goes again!)

Michael Fassbender....
Oh MAN!!!
We are a divine species!
I'll say no more....

Jump NHS queues!!

In my inbox the other day - Agreed for SUE DE NIM

Leapfrog the NHS Queues
Choose When, Where & Who Operates
Receive More Comfort & Convenience Drug Treatment

That's Right Private Medical Insurance for £20 a month!!! (My exclamation marks)

Scam of the fucking century isn't it?

I heard, from a reliable source, that with a medical insurance, if you go in for a heart problem,let's say, you can't use your insurance again if you get another heart problem.

Never mind that the average person cannot afford a medical insurance anyway. They're asked to get insurance for everything, dental insurance costs a bomb when you consider your treatment costs too.

It is the beginning of the end of the NHS, started by Labour, an ideological dream to be finished by the Conservatives.

No one should have to pay for care, especially with their lives. There should no queue jumping because you are lucky enough to be a millionaire, money left in trust for you, or perhaps like the Prime Minister, you married into it.

Doc said she'd schedule me for a scan - the pee results aren't back but the pain didn't go away when the antibiotic course finished, just getting worse actually...
Can they call today doc?
I don't want be rushed to A&E screaming in agony, because waiting times are longer for me, because I have no medical insurance, have only debt to pay for one with.


Do people have to wait to die because they cannot afford to live?

(I Don't Know Party Manifeato)

SAVE OUR NHS

(I post my problem under mental health because I don't want to start another label and I dunno, create a story I have no control over.)

FUNDING TO THE NHS NOT PRIVATE HEALTHCARE COMPANIES WHO USE NHS FACILITIES AND STAFF.

Four Haiku's - blogging - start and finish?

Writing blogs can heal
Even if noone comments
Fuck everyone else

Blogs are cathartic
Write your thoughts and let them go
There is Gold in mine

Stigmum has to stop
At least for the time being
I must heal myself

I'll miss you Stiggers
I'll read you all the time though
Comment with your name

Write a few more days
A gentle separation
Tear my heart out bitch!

That's yesterday that is, 'bitch', it's not how we speak, I speak and yeah, you might have counted five, but we don't keep count!

Tuesday 7 February 2012

Time to ch ch ch change - Song

I still don't know what I am waiting for
And my time is running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I think I've got it made
It seems the taste is not so sweet
So I turn myself to face me
And I’ve caught a nasty glimpse
Of how the others don’t see a faker
Time to give the blog a rest

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Turn and face the pain
Ch-ch-Change it
I want to be a richer mum
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Turn and face the strains
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different mum
Time has changed me
Now I must trace time

I feel the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of cold impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And our children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
We're quite aware of what they're going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Turn and face these pains
Ch-ch-Change 'em
Can't tell me to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
I must face this strain
Ch-ch-Changes
Where's your shame (coalition)
You've left us up to my neck in it
Time must change me
We all can change time

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I'm going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Turn and crush the strain
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out we rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Rise and beat the strain
Ch-ch-Change it
Pretty soon we're gonna get a little wiser
Time may change me
And I must trace time
I know that I MUST change me
And I MUST find time

(David Bowie featuring Stigmum, my Pretty Thing; only a little messed up, not much!)

What the Dickens?!

Happy Birthday Charles Dickens!
200 years old today! Same as me!
Not much has changed ey? Social inequality still high and actually being legislated by this government to get worse! When you turn in your grave Charles me lad, WAKE UP these cockeyed clueless political classes.
On the plus side they stopped beating kids in school, ooh, 30 years ago. To my knowledge anyway (Nicolas Nickleby)
Thanks Charlie, for everything.

Are you prepared to change?

"What do you have to live for? You know you are here for a reason, and it's not to buy a new car every few years. What are you willing to do to fulfill yourself? Are you willing to do affirmations, visualisations, treatments? Are you willing to forgive? Are you willing to meditate?
How much mental effort are you willing to exert to change your life and make it the life you want?"
(Louise Hay, The Power is Within You. P.105)

You can drag a Dog to water but you cannot make it...

Drink Bitch

I'll give up Al Cohol for Lent then

We are all connected

Was it an accident that me and He Who Said I Was Hot weren't perfect strangers?
No six degrees of separation for us; only one
Jo
She emailed him. Fancy that! He said to her, not to me.

We are all connected. I'm no different to you. You are no different to me.

My point is this though:

If what I've got is serious (they've scheduled me a scan)

Do I let him know?

Monday 6 February 2012

"Repent! God is Good News!"

The Sunday following my one night stand I woke up feeling positive about life but also very much stuck in mine. So very stuck I consulted my angel cards and was told to "follow the signs".

"Repent!" bellowed the priest an hour later.

I can't believe it. I shake my head inside myself as my childhood God forces me to my knees to beg forgiveness, sinner that I am.

"Repent!" he bellows again. "Repent means change! God is Good News!"

My inner head stops shaking and I listen.

"Doesn't matter if you are good person or a bad person God will not judge you!"

And I think of Hitler and Walsh's Conversations with God and wonder if the priest has read this "blasphemous" text.

"Repent means change! In your heart turn the face of God towards you and make every decision from there!"

Now you reader, may have a problem with the word God. That's fine, I did too once. But imagine for a minute the word means Love.

Turn and face the Love within yourself

It's not easy; it's taken me years

You know, when I say the Hail Mary now, I end it saying "Pray for our souls, now and at the hour of our death." Not, "Pray for us sinners.."

I can do that as a fully paid up member of the School of Doris, God is very much Que Sera Sera. He and She and It does not judge you or me or us.

Facing the Love we have within ourselves will reward us more than facing and making decisions based on fear or anger or envy or resentment.

As promised the One Night label has to end with this post or it could go on and on and I want it to finish with a happy ending.

Love not fear as it began

This is the beginning and how this label ends.

Thanks for reading it, I hope it helps you.

Love

Me xxx

"You are powerful beyond measure" - Mandela

Nelson Mandela's inaugural speech from 1994, given to me by my social worker in 2005, recently taken out of the envelope in which it came and stuck on my wall.

Stick it on yours. Read it everyday. Do not be afraid of your light and accept others may be afraid of yours. Take it from one who knows (that's me, I can't speak for Mandela!)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant
gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God - Your playing small
doesn't serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us
It is not in just some of us; It is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

The right person empowers you

"The right person will empower you," I told the man who'd come out of a long relationship and never wanted another again.

I am right.

He accepted I am right.

I know I am right.

It is easier to fear than to love
It is better to love than to fear

Saturday 4 February 2012

Song for a one night stand

This is the song for He Who Said I Was Hot.
It couldn't be for a relationship...it's painful for the one who loves.
I've been listening to PP Arnold's version, it's the one I have, it's so raw, so powerful and it's the lyrics I've copied for you. The song was written by a man, Chip Taylor.
I like this video though because it's not clear who the angel is because it could be either the man or the woman, depending on your experience.

This is Juice Newton's version



There'll be no strings to bind your hands
Not if my love can't bind your heart
and there's no need to take a stand
For it was I who chose a start
I see no need to take me home
I'm old enough to face the dawn

Just call me angel of the morning angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me baby
Just call me angel of the morning angel
Then slowly turn away from me

Maybe the sun's light will be dim
And it won't matter anyhow
If morning's echoes say we've sinned
Well it was what I wanted now
And if we're victims of the night
I won't be blinded by the light
Just call me angel of the morning angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me baby
Just call me angel of the morning angel
Then slowly turn away
I won't beg you to stay
with me
Through the tears of the day, of the years
baby baby baby

Just call me angel of the morning angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me baby
Just call me angel of the morning angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me darling
Just call me angel of the morning baby
Just touch my cheek before you leave me darling

I've been playing this song all week while I write this label. Every morning, track 15 on my 'Feeling Good cd'
It has been better to think about sex than, well, most things actually!
It is better to think about love than it is about fear.

I had a really good experience with my one night stand, he had a good one with me and I hope you have a good one with yours.

Thanks PP Arnold.

Stay...stay stay stay....

I wanted him to stay the weekend. I didn't want him to leave. He couldn't come back, how could he come back = 'I'm free again in two weeks!' - my self esteem wouldn't let me say it, my self esteem wouldn't allow it, but he could stay.

Oh stay. I might have said it, but only once. "Go on, I'll make you breakfast!"
"I need to get my keys," he said. It's how he met me, going back for his keys.

I laughed at his frustration trying to find his things amongst my mess, untangling his jeans from me, from all of me.

"You really are going?" I said as he pulled them on.

As he left he paused at the door, looked at me.

I'd've got out of bed, I'd have kissed his cheek

but my head was nailed to the pillow.

So much for sex curing hangovers I thought, as my head split in two.

I slept for the rest of the day.

A first for my one night stand?

"Do you have a child?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't know you were a mother."
"No?" There are pictures of my son all over the wall.
"Do you have a girl?"
"No, a boy."
"How old?"
"Nine."
"Nine, wow, nine, that's a big child! He looks like a girl!"
"Yeah, well," I say, half asleep, "young people can look quite androgenous."
"Does he still have long hair?"
"Fairly," I look at the pictures which are a couple of years old. "He's beautiful."
"Yes he is."
"Have you been with a mother before?"
"No."
"You haven't?!"
"Well, yeah, maybe, I don't think so."
"Is it different?"
"No, only the context."
"...."

Jobs: Seeking value in post coital chit chat

"What do you do?" he asks me, after a bit of erm, my, my oh my!
"I campaign for affordable housing," I answer without thinking.
"I've never met one of those before!" he says.
"No, well, it's hardly the most interesting of campaigns.."
"Why then?" after commenting on what a nice flat I lived in.
"If I'd won my battle, you'd be waking up on some shit estate, not here.."

change the subject change change change

"What do you do?"
"I work in film."
"Cool, doing what?"
"I own my own company."
"Nice! Good for you! Do you employ interns?"

He was soon to realise he was in bed with the self elected Leader of the I Don't Know Party.

"Win for business! No, win win for business!!" I couldn't help but open his eyes, draw his attention...

"This is so depressing," he said at some point
but that might have been while we were talking about the new North Korean president, whatsisname..."Kim Jong-un" "yeah that's him..who knows if he'll zap us all..."

The conversation flies off to Iran, to America, to nuclear war and that familiar feeling of being powerless in the face of impending doom..."The whole thing, our planet, is controlled by a small bunch of egos who'll do what they want to do, we have no control over it," I say. "What you've got to do is rise above it all somehow and look down on all of it with no judgement."

"That's very hard," he said.
"I know..."

We might have kissed then. Flip.
It just kept getting better, getting better all the time.

"Cougars"

For a moment I let him think I was a pensioner, and from the corner of my eye saw him do a double take, as if realising he'd gone home with QuiteSomething and woken up with Stigmum. I got the giggles.
"How old did you think I was?" I laughed.
"My age," he said.
"And how old is that?"

Oh....!

No Jo, the bunting on the bedroom wall is not coming down, not yet.

Fab. I am Fab.

I am.

I am at home in my body
(Louise L Hay You Can Heal Your Life)

(We really don't like that word 'cougars', me and stigs don't, but an 'older women' title didn't sit too well with us either. I mean, who cares?)

Taking a stranger home

Here's how it happened.
This is long by the way, and badly written, given I've used my notebook. Oh well, life mirrors art sometimes..that's my excuse anyway...

Two Friday's ago: Leaving party in the flat downstairs, the hairdresser's going back to Italy:( I am invited:) I turn up with a bottle of Prosecca; Italian's like that. Their friends arrive, beautiful, striking individuals. They invite me to Old Street with them so I finish the rose wine I've moved to and run upstairs for my jacket.

A friend of theirs is a manager of the place we go to; people told to move from the bank of seats, for we are VIPs. I order a beer because I don't want to get drunk (hic) but there's vodka and rum at the table and when they do the Jager Bombs (Jaegermeister mixed with redbull) well, one won't hurt!

The hairdresser's going straight to the airport. My other neighbours leave but I want to stay with the hairdresser's friends. I hit the dancefloor.

I man glides up to me. I ignore him and carry on dancing.
Another glides up (honestly, their movements were really fluid) and I turn from him too.
When another glides up I think 'oh for fuck's sake' and dance over to a group of young guys but realise this isn't the answer, make some comment about how good the music is then go and chat to some of my group.
Soon I'm dancing again and soon the same thing is happening and I become convinced these men are being paid by the club to pull women. I want them to leave me alone so I can enjoy myself but when I turn to the group I am with our area is empty; they've all gone.

I can't stay. I don't want to stay, I feel vulnerability crawl across the floor ready to envelope me and know I must leave now. I grab my jacket and I go outside. The air soothes my face. It's been a great night.

HOME.

I'm not entirely clear what went on next .

I believe I went up to a pretty approachable looking group of guys and asked them if they knew where the 214 bus went from.

How I wound up sitting down, I don't know but I got talking to one of them, and must have felt some kind of relief because I told him, in order, no doubt, to relieve my paranoia, that: "There are men in there paid to come on to women." I think he might have laughed, and I might have said I was serious, before wondering if he was one of them too then telling myself to chill out.

"Do you want to go back with me?" He looks at me and I might have laughed thinking really fast, faster than I've ever thought anything, ever, when I've been quite drunk, why not? He seems alright, and I do really really want to have sex.

"OK."

He asks if I want to go back to his place and I say no, mine (I'm so glad I don't live on that estate anymore) and we get a cab.

I don't recall talking to him in the cab. I do recall thinking, I do recall wondering whether I had to pay him. How do these things work? Do I have to pay him?

"I don't have any money," he says breaking the silence.
"Oh, there's a cashpoint just up here, we'll get the cabbie to stop and you can get out."

What am I doing, I'm thinking while he's out of the cab. I take a deep breath and I let it out again.

Once in my house, again I don't know only that he made the move to kiss me and I said at some point that I had condoms or maybe he asked me if I had any. Either way, we had sex.

In many ways, the first I knew of all this was when I woke up in the morning. I woke up feeling skin on my skin and thought '"huh?". Slowly I turned, oh yeah... when he says:

"You said the guys in the pub were being paid to talk to you last night. You remember? You must have no self esteem."

Later that morning he tells me he can be arrogant. "Well," I say, my head on his chest, "that's just another form of low self esteem isn't it, only wrapped in different packaging."

His kiss. That I remember, his kiss I remember.


Others mirror the love and self approval I have for myself. I rejoice in my sexuality.
(Louise. L. Hay You Can Heal Your Life not under Self Esteem)

Friday 3 February 2012

Giving freely - a thought

If you give freely with no expectation
you won't be disappointed when you don't get anything back

and happily surprised if you do

Waking up to oneself - a re-union

My one night stand was a catalyst for change, but the catalyst actually began at the school reunion. where I felt something dark flutter inside me when I passed my old bedroom. The dark flutter turned out to be 16 year old me.

Here's what I wrote, a morning after a night where tears came from the bank of nowhere that has no depth that we can reach. The Foca had left me eight years before.

She's woken up and realised the boy she loved is the father of her child and is devastated it hasn't worked out.
So I find myself grieving for my relationship all over again and so powerfully.
I have let him go before
I have to let him go again and I don't want to.
He's married now, I tell myself. It's ok, he's happy and he never really knew how to look after you anyway. He could only ever be your friend. That's how it is sometimes. I know it hurts but better to have loved, even for an instant, than never having loved before
Be happy what you felt was real
and you have a beautiful son
He's lucky I loved him
He's lucky you loved him.

(Taken from Notebook 22nd November 2011)

This might seem a bit crazy but the one night stand I had was the first proper, healthy, sexual experience of me being with myself, connected to myself. Well no, Luke from (can't call it)Shit School was, post sex therapy, but I dumped him for accepting me didn't I.....

I'd told my past life regression therapist when I saw her the second and last session, admitted for the first time, that I didn't know how to do 'love'. I didn't know how to do 'intimacy'. One of my friends can't do love or intimacy either so I know I'm not alone.

That reunion was the catalyst for me to start my life over again, stronger within myself.
He Who Said I Was Hot was sent to tell me, sent to show me, what I either didn't know, or what I had forgotten.

If you give freely with no expectation
you won't be disappointed when you don't get anything back
(22nd November, straight after the above)

I will rest until I'm stronger
hopefully it won't take long
(Still thinking the same thing today...though I know now I'm on a forward path)

Tell yourself you are on a forward path

Connect with yourself. if you are not already connected

You are the very beginning of everything

Don't be scared, simply trust.

(Gee, big one stigs!)

Happy Endings

I said at the start of this One Night label that taking you on my journeys was dangerous. Didn't get the council flat, root canal ended how I didn't want it too. Did give up smoking though, I said.
You know what I forgot?

Reunions!!

I took you on that journey!!

That did end well!!

Shit brick absolutely terrified of returning to such unhappy memories but went ahead anyway.

I was reunited with my sixteen year old self who I'd abandoned there!

So you see, there is such a thing as happy endings and I shouldn't be afraid of taking you on journeys because they won't necessarily turn out badly or negatively.

That's the beauty of blogging, the beauty of labelling posts. It's told me there is such a thing as a happy ending.

I was able to let go of that past, the weight of it released with one act of bravery. I am still tempted to write some of the lessons I learnt from that reunion experience, because I don't know who it might help my sharing them, but I do know it will help me. I think I got interrupted by something else when I was on the subject of the subsequent breakdown. Not all breakdowns are bad for you though they feel it at the time!

This One Night label will have a happy ending because I'm not going to see it through to the end with you, I will end it as positively as stigs and I are able to end it before moving forward.

Have faith in yourself

"Don't stop writing"

My Italian neighbour knows I write a secret blog but has always had the kind grace not to enquire what it is.

I didn't tell him I was on antibiotics and that's what I was writing about, or that I'd had a one night stand that I will be writing about, because I was out with him the night I met He Who Said I Was Hot. Both nights being a catalyst for change within me and has thrown into question, really, just how long can I keep writing a blog as personal as this.

The other week I met a new person in the coffee shop who asked me what I did for a living and I'd said without really thinking "I write streams of consciousness that sometimes makes its way into newspapers!"

Thursday night of spinning fear I told myself that my life definitely had to change and accepted, I accepted that night, that I would have to stop writing this blog.

This morning I showed the guy in the coffee shop my article on the area's nightlife that has made it into a newspaper supplement, after he asked me how my 'writing projects' were going. "Is that your name?" he said. "Is that the name you write your stream stuff?"

"No, I have an alter ego."
"Oh, what's her name?"
"I can't tell you!"
"Oh that's not fair!" he said.
"OK," I said and I told him because I know that though Stigmum appears on google her given name doesn't lead to me. She could be anybody! He laughed.
"I'm going to stop writing though," I said. "As her conduit, she makes me go places I don't wanna go!!!" He laughed at that too.

My Italian neighbour didn't laugh. He's a musician. He busks at Westminster. We spoke about how the Black Dog is really great for creativity. Awful to reach in that far but how it lends power to what you write.

"I cannot die for my art," I said to him giggling. "I've got my son to think about."
"Sure," he said. "But don't stop writing!"

We'll see....

I told Jobs in Mind advisor I wanted to 'create my way out of my situation' and I'm not convinced Stiggers, as much as I love her and she has valid things to say, will help me do that.

(I also told him "I write a little bit" and he told me not to say that at my Atos interview or they'll put me down for admin jobs...He saw, he saw, I have something more to give... ee aw ee aw I'm a donkey! - streams, see.....don't depress me!)

1 in 4 people have a mental health illness

Alistair Campbell, Blair's old spin doctor turned depression campaigner said on the BBC's This Week last night that one in four people in this country have a mental health illness.

Really? That few? Or was that one in four MP's have a mental health illness?

I had an appointment at Jobs in Mind the other day. When I booked it with the guy, I really thought I'd be ready to go by the 1st February! Oh yeah!

I told my "adviser" jobs weren't really on my mind, that I was on antibiotics. He said it was only an assessment anyway, no pressure.

He made me cry you know, with his questions. He didn't mean to, it's just the conversation bought into view That Which Makes Me Want To Kill Myself - the fact that other than love, I cannot give my son the security he needs. His education is not "safe" with me. His home is not "safe" with me. I cannot offer him the kind of foundation that his father can for example. Don't make me talk about it; it makes me cry.

We, I, got talking about depressed people with him, people worse off than me and I know because I've been where those people are. Things are so Black you can't even recognise the comfort of it being a Dog.

Ruby Wax said it was an illness, like a physical illness, a chemical imbalance in the brain, and there is medication.

What I know of depression though, is only you can get yourself out of it, pills or no pills. The support, books, cd's, prayer groups, this that and the other, is all there but if you don't want it, you don't want it. You can drag that Dog to Water but you Cannot make it drink.

It is good depression's getting a media airing because there really are too many of us to help. My advisor admitted as much.

"You are very depressed," he said to me.
"Really? Am I?" I was quite surprised because I'd stopped crying and was talking about people on benefits with him in quite an empathetic 'them not me' kind of way.
"Yes you are."
"Am I really negative? Am I being really negative" (I try to control that in the outside world...)
"Yes, but you've got every cause to be."
"Oh."

I came out of the appointment and it was my son's school assembly. Gift. Thank you World.

I'll say this though, the worse your depression is, the closer you are to God
Seriously, I'm not being funny
It's when I got so low, so so so low, that I realised I could not escape myself. When I get so low I'm reminded of that. This is me.

A breath.

It's been a long trip, my depression, I won't deny that. Some people's depressions can be a long trip. It's not been aided by the recurring evictions, job application rejects, I've got a bloody infection I've never had before that makes me think of nasty diseases I may have bought upon myself. I've kept wanting to escape myself; run away, run away die as you know if you've followed this blog for a long time.

But no.

Recognise that you are in the world. You are in this moment. You are meant to be here.
Take a very gentle step from there
With a deep breath

Thursday 2 February 2012

Men and self help books

This doesn't need to go on the One Night label but it is, just for the flow.

Self help is traditionally a female domain isn't it? Helping yourself is seen as some kind of weakness and men, traditionally, don't want to be perceived as being weak. Hey, with Kindle's now, who's to know?!

Anyway, this post isn't about that.
This post is about how I walked into a charity shop the other week and came out with three books:

The Power Is Within You by Louise Hay
Chicken Soup for the Single's Soul by a bunch of writers
The Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield.

Stiggers and me mention all these books because they all carried an inscription and they were all gifts for men!

To Ross
To Jaybes (John, a flight ticket from Sydney to Adelaide inside..small coincidence, He Who Said I Was Hot was from Adelaide! He wasn't called John though)
from their mums!!
To (another) John and I love this inscription so sorry Eric, sorry John, I'm going to copy it out:

"Dearest John,
This book was a revelation to me + so I'm passing it on to you. May the pages within provoke and inspire you to greater awareness.
I'm awed by your talent + Inspired by your Spirit. Your [sic] Very Special.
I'm Happy our path's were able to cross. All the Best!
And Good Luck wi "Dolly", I'm sure you'll be Great!
Until we meet again - My Cosmic Friend (each word underlined twice!)
Peace - Love - Light
Your Friend, Eric C.."


"When the student is ready, the teacher appears." (The Power is Within You. P.75)

Thanks guys!!!!!

If you are drawn to any of these on the back of this post reader, don't thank me!!
(Though you can thank Stigmum if you like;))

The Power Within You

I'll be honest with you, back when, oh I don't know, I rejected louise Hay.

All those exercises in You Can Heal Your Life, well I couldn't do them, didn't want to do them, oh this isn't working, I'm a failure, go away Louise Hay.

Then a few weeks ago, in a charity shop just up the road, her book "The Power Is Within You" called out from the shelf. "Buy me, buy me!" Rrragh, I have You Can Heal Your Life, I don't need you.

I started reading it in the ad breaks during Celebrity Big Brother.
Oh this is quite good.
This is really good.
Oh Louise, I do love you!

Louise Hay, multimillionaire self healing guru, gives herself to us in this book. Talks about her life. It's all over it, everywhere in the way it isn't in You Can Heal Your Life.

I didn't know she had cancer of the vagina. Did you?
She tells us how she forgave the abusers of her childhood.
She's like, I know how you're feeling.

She made it very easy for me to pick up You Can Heal Your Life on Thursday night.

"I had to acknowledge some nonsense that I didn't want to admit about myself," she writes in the Power Is Within You. "For instance, I was a very resentful person, and I carried a lot of bitterness from the past. I said, "Louise, you have no time to indulge in that anymore. You really must change." Or as Peter Mc Williams says, "You can no longer afford the luxury of a negative thought." (P53 of my copy)

A clear clear, so clear message that came out of Thursday night was that I should give up this blog. Start a new one, build a new one.

I'm reeling from this because there's still so much we want to say. There's still so much that only Stigmum can say. Not because I don't have the courage to say it myself. But because as her conduit, I have to reach for what's negative, to open people's eyes, or allow others to know they are not alone in how they feel.

We ahall see...

Will the council house me if I have cancer?

BANISH THAT THOUGHT

As soon as the thought came to me, I told it to FUCK.RIGHT.OFF.

You'll get extra points

FUCK OFF

Imagine telling your support worker

FUCK OFF

You see reader, I knew a French single mum who still lives in her bedsit up the road with her son my son's age.

She got a brain tumour. Did they house her? No!
She was on death's door. Did they house her? No!

The system doesn't care whether you live or die! Infact, dying will reduce the waiting list! So the council, much to the ConDems pleasure, will say or think, can't be quoted after all, 'hurry up and get on with it!'

So get that thought RIGHT AWAY FROM YOU before you create within you a disease you DO NOT WANT.

I lovingly forgive and release all of the past. I choose to fill my world with joy. I love and approve of myself.
(Louise L Hay You Can Heal Your Life under Cancer)

It's hard Louise it's hard, particularly when your past is in your present and you are forced to think about it because you are forced to bid every week

No-one ever said the healing process was easy
Right now, you are safe
Write another post and let go of this one.
(Stigmum)

I lovingly release the past and turn my attention to this new day. All is well.
(Louise under Tumors)

MOVE...into the next moment...MOVE

What are we doing to ourselves?

I wasn't looking to blame myself last Thursday night as I pissed blood into the toilet alerted by clots on the paper.

Sure, my first instinct was sex and I was so angry, angry at myself, I blamed the blog. I don't want to admit to being a sexual cripple, I raged. Is that why this has happened? I'm not a sexual cripple. My one night stand was a positive experience. Don't take that away from me

Here'a a thing..The week before He Who Said I Was Hot, was standing in my room, by my bookcase, but I couldn't see what he was looking at because my eyes were closed.

Later I stood where he'd been standing to see what he might have seen. Photo's, a piece of writing by Nelson Mandella, given to me back in 2005 by a social worker when the church was evicting me and my son, which I only took out of it's envelope about two weeks ago and stuck up on my wall to teach me.

What books would he have noticed? The Story of O, The Sorrow of War, Marx, Angela Carter's Fairy Tales, You Can Heal Your Life, Marukami, Robin the Hoodie, On Photography...a real mix

You Can Heal Your Life? I've probably not opened that since, ooh 2005.

I was in a real vacuum of fear and not knowing on Thursday night. I couldn't phone my mum and frighten her, or my sister. I could've called Jo, I'd only seen her two days before, but she was flying out to Italy. A single mum friend had called earlier, asking if I'd come in with her on a 'plant project' ("plants die on you mummy," my son said later). I couldn't tell her, "My pee hurts, I'm bleeding and I don't know what's wrong," I couldn't, I wanted to, I couldn't.

You Can Heal Your Life. You Can Heal Your Life is in your bookcase. At the back of the book are 61 pages of problems with its possible cause and new thought patterns along side it.

Littered all over this label are the new thought patterns I copied out and read and reread that night. I barely glanced at the possible causes.

Here they are for you now though - in relation to bladder problems, urinary problems, female problems (though listen in boys, we share some). I don't know what's up with me but something is and hopefully it's gone now, my seven day antibiotic course ends today.

Bladder Problems (Cystitis) - Anxiety. Holding on to old ideas. Fear of letting go. Being pissed off

Cancer - Deep hurt. Longstanding resentment. Deep secret or grief eating away at the self. Carrying hatreds. "What's the use?"

Urinary Infections (Cystitis, Pyclonephritis) - Pissed off. Usually at the opposite sex or a lover. Blaming others. (Not pissed off at lover I thought at the time, but well pissed off with government, life situation, welfare reforms...)

Uterus - Represents the home of creativity (Stigmum?????)

Vaginitis - See Female Problems, Leukorrhea - Anger at the mate. Sexual guilt. Punishing the self.

Female Problems (See Amenorrhea, Dysmenorrhea, Fibroid Tumors, Leukorrhea, Menstrual Problems, Vaginitis) Denial of the self. Rejecting femininity. Rejection of the feminine principle.

If we go back, if I go right back..

Whatever I have is a WARNING

What was the very last thing I posted that Thursday before the big OW?

Peter Paul and Mary - I hammer out WARNING. I hammer out DANGER.

You see, I feel I have to write down this stuff.

It's up to you if you want to change

but my time has come

I hope I'm listening.

Wednesday 1 February 2012

I am Velcro

Self realisation is an epiphany

I am Velcro
I allow things to STICK to me
I allow negative things to STICK to me
So fast they are stuck that I can't peel them off
So old
Men don't rape women
Women rape men
You're a hole between two legs

So new
Cancer cancer
Y Mama Tambien?
We have a duty to ourselves
That's what I wrote
I wrote that
ON HERE
before all this
We can change
We can all change
You Can Heal Your Life
In my bookcase Thursday night
Stick a positive on you
Right Here
Right Now
I am beautiful
I love
I am
LOVE

Antibiotic knock on effects

The antibiotics have given me thrush. Woo hoo! Lucky me!! Really releasing stuff....

Commonly viewed as an STI, I am sensitive to yeast infections...cotton knickers, no bubble bath, you women know. Chemist said it's a common side effect to antibiotics, that itchy fire down there...

So tis not the boy, er, man. Refuse to park the condition there anyway.

The antibiotics aren't a laugh a minute. I have got pains in my sides as though my inner tubes are being given a chinese burn. Again, any woman who has ever had period pain, will know how this feels. I'm sure men can identify with chinese burns. Well, my brothers used to give me them all the time, so no doubt one another too.

Right, Louisa, not something I looked up that One Night but it has its place on this label none the less.

You listening girls and boys?

She says if you have thrush it is probably caused by 'anger over wrong decisions' - I made no wrong decisions, erm, recently...

Under Yeast Infection Louisa says it's probably caused by denying your own needs and not supporting yourself, which is erm, a wrong decision isn't it...

I lovingly accept my decisions, knowing I am free to change. I am safe (under Thrush)
or/and
I now choose to support myself in loving joyous ways (under Yeast Infections)

Drink plenty of water
Top tip from my NHS friend is rehydration solutions, to replace the minerals the antibiotics are sucking up

Release