Praying for "the best outcomes"

I can't articulate the magnitude so I won't even try.

Tomorrow morning I have a 2 hour exam which if I pass will be a positive step in direction of my dreams - namely to learn shorthand (in the short-term) and get a payrise.(in the long-term)

Tomorrow afternoon I am viewing a flat. This is huge, this is so big, this is enormous.
The flat is great for my son, but not for me, on account of Zat bike and there being no space for it. It's a form of transport I need. Would you get rid of your much loved car because the home you've had a choiceless choice to move into meant you had to? Anyway, I'm saying YES and feel really fucking sick. I don't want to lose the bike. Argos have a 65% clearance sale going on though so timing couldn't be more perfect if we got it. Starting from scratch here...neither of us have beds and that's just the start...

I need to share some coincidences...I'll be quick, I don't like long posts particularly unless they are well written and well, love Stigmum as I do, I am her conduit and a hopeless judge.

The flat I'm viewing tomorrow is in the same block, or next door to the block where I said 'no' to a flat 6 years ago. (The first person had accepted it so I didn't see why I had to...)

I got a call on Tuesday, after posting (!) to go and view a flat I bid on in.... Papier Mache Towers! Yes, the place my son and I wrote this entire blog from when we were being evicted. "Aren't there plans to knock it down?" I said to the woman on the phone. "I don't know about that," she said. "I'm only given names to call. Do you want to view it?"

Yesterday I bet myself that on the bidding boards today, there would be a garden flat. There would be my 'ideal home'.
Bingo! There it was. Ground and basement floors with a garden. Steps so not for wheelchairs. And where is it? Why, the very street my son first lived on. A few doors down from where we both lived with the Foca. The very first place we were booted out from. Well, given no choice but to leave.

It made me think about Posh Street, where we were evicted from afterwards, narrowly avoiding a hostel only to land in Papier Mache Towers. I'd stand in the Posh Street's park in those dark days and implore the sky: "Please, one day, bring me back to Rochester!" like a Bronte heroine, only not half as cool.

Imagine...(I breathe, it is, all, if not too much, alot)

Anything could happen. Who knows what can happen? Not me (I've been reading posts that I saw others had read from Stiggers stats - long story ey stigs, a long long story but them readers picked some good ones for me to read back on. Your best is sometimes hard to find)

I'm praying I pass that exam tomorrow morning.
With the housing, I'm praying, I'm praying hard for the best outcome.
Whatever happens, I'm saying YES.
With that I relinquish control and hope the best, whatever that may be, comes to me and my boy.
My son, my sun, my boy, my buoy.

He asked to sleep in my bed tonight - "So you can hear me breathing if you can't sleep. I remember you said that used to help you when we shared a room"

How many times can you win in life?

I won with him; my son my sun my buoy, my boy.

I win for him now.

best outcomes best outcome best outcomes

At the Coal Face

At the Coal Face - written the day before a viewing in November, my first viewing in five years. I was Number 12 for a housing association flat. I was struggling so took myself off to a vietnamese woman for a pedicure

At the Coal Face - viewing a property

It's all so tight
in the throat
particularly
Easier to breathe
through the nose
breathe
release the chains bound tightly
across the chest
Leave to God
Trust to God
He has a master plan
You can say Yes and something better will come
Enjoy the pedicure
There is space for you
to make space
within

Invitation to view a property

The council called me yesterday at 8.50 am to ask if I'd been contacted in regards to viewing a flat. The viewing was meant to be that afternoon but it seemed no-one had been told. I wasn't surprised to get an invitation. I don't know why. Possibly because I like this flat we're in. This flat we can't stay in.

She called again at 10am where my son rather unhelpfully told her I was 'sleeping in bed', which I wasn't. We were both being lazy and playing and tickling and being generally silly... 'sleeping in bed...' tsk..

Friday. I view it Friday. A two bedroom flat. Third floor. One double room, one single. Blow heating. (Blow heating? Is that similar to totally ineffectual storage heating?) Shared garden.

I'm Number 2.

I should be excited but I'm not, I'm terrified.

It's much further, much much further to a main road, public transport and shops BUT I can relax about my son's education and my job, that those aren't disrupted.

Zat. Zat bike. What will happen to you Zat? I still need you to get to work. Where will you live?

"It's a big decision," said the woman from the council.

I have to say there and then if I want it or not.

I can't say no can I? They say you can but read me and my experience and you know I can't.

The choices we are forced to make are not the choices we would love to make. Everywhere I've bid on recently, or risk being taken off the lists, have been on estates I wouldn't 'choose' to raise my child.

My son caught me crying yesterday afternoon. "Don't worry mummy, we'll move in, play the lottery, win and then buy something brilliant."

Perspectives huh.

I thank the world for my son everyday. I ask the world to protect my son everyday.

I'm Number 2. Number 1 could always say "Yes"

Should a stigma be attached to benefit claimants?

It was last week I think, listening to LBC radio, one of the presenters asked if benefit claimants should be stigmatised.

Stiggers! For years a wealth of our society have thought so, or so I though. Afterall, that's how you came into existance...Stigma, Stigmamma, Stigmum!

Last week's news was how overweight people should agree to exercise or have their housing benefit cut (more than it's already being cut)

A bill is being passed to day to legislate the reduction of benefit payments. Benefit claimants get too much. So they're reducing annual payments to 1% instead as measuring it to inflation. Haven't the Tories done well?
They've pitted the working poor against the welfare poor and blinded people with their rhetoric.

Didn't Osborne paint that picture of the father leaving for work while next door, blinds down, the benefit claimant, stays in bed? What I find interesting about that is I'm pretty sure when I first read that, Osborne mentioned the father leaving for work before 'his children are awake'.... Ooh they quickly erased that from the propaganda, especially with the likes of me wondering who's looking after his children? Ach well, yesterday they took child benefit away from children. Not mine of course, I'm not at £60,000 yet.

Within a decade benefits, all benefits, will be worth nothing. They are worth little now but with rising food, fuel, vat etc etc, you see where I'm going.

Where am I going?
Where are you going?

I hope you're going somewhere good, and not a life of permanent poverty. I'm hope I'm going there too.

P.S Should overweight ministers get a grocery allowance?
P.P.S I know I keep coming back to this but: Is parenting a job?

Happy 2013 and One Resolution

Happy New Year everyone!

While many people may start a blog today, I'm not. I've come back for maybe three or four more posts and then go (ha ha, I tell myself one thing and stiggers goes and does another!)

Old followers... me and my son were handed another possession notice. Another!! I thought we had to be out on Boxing Day but silly me, I've not learnt even from myself! These notices are 'routine', 'standard' and it's to make it easier to boot us out come June!

To blog is to think about it, and I mustn't. It'll finish me off for sure. Besides, I've told you everything before: bidding, letters to councillors, to mp's, to politicians.

My last fight was all on here so no need to repeat myself as I'll be doing the same again this time. Not only my son's education to safeguard this time, but also my job!

Yes dear reader. I stopped Stigmum as she wasn't serving me anymore and up popped opportunities. I'm now working for a publishing company (of sorts) and flip, what can I say, dreams come true (shall come back in edit if I can and link you back to something I wrote in the 'work' label!) I love my job, the pay is shite but how does one measure wealth ey?

 My resolution for 2013? To become more spiritual. I am quite spiritual already. It helps with all that mental health stuff, and does beat some of that dark dark depressing stuff.

 I wish you all the best. Really, all the very best. Wins on lotteries, hugs and cups of teas and all sorts for 2013.

 13: lucky for some someone once said to me and it's true. Lucky for me and you.

 I'll let you know if we win. No no no! I'll let you know WHEN we win.

Promise!

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.

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

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!

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!)