If it is not broken

[Spideysenses]

Indeed, someone from my walk of life does not have as many choices as the image of this country will lead you to believe. I had a story worth bringing to the public sphere/domain. A breakdown does not come from nowhere. Stress is not the full story when it is a young person with a future ahead of them. I was relieved that the doctors had concluded that it WAS an external factor - stress. Stress was a gentle nudge to consider the real/other underlying reasons - suspected abuse and trauma.
Scapegoating has a ripple effect in a small town. It does not take much for the fire to take hold and spread. I had a collapse and I heard wind of most of the cover-ups. I never lit the fire. Calling my writing wildfire was wrong of me. It was the truth to combat the flames. I was up against it. I had cut ties before the hospital.
Being believed by the right people was a big deal. It was imperative to my recovery.
I did not feel like I needed a fresh start somewhere else when I had done nothing wrong. My teachers told pillar I was lazy for not choosing further education even though it has been proven that most students from my background are massively underemployed, so pillar told my manager at the time that I was lazy even though I was training for the Olympic Team and funding it myself from work. My first impression was destroyed. I needed my job. My blood father called me "a lazy #€#€# like your mother" to my face. She had already turned my grandparents against me.

[Spideysenses]

Pierce the Veil
king for a Day

Dare me to jump off of this Jersey bridge
I'll bet you've never had a Friday night like this
Keep it up, keep it up, let's raise our hands
I take a look up at the sky and I see red
Red for the cancer, red for the wealthy
Red for the drink that's mixed with suicide, everything red
Please, won't you push me for the last time?
Let's scream until there's nothing left
So sick of playing, I don't want this anymore
The thought of you is no ****ing fun
You want a martyr? I'll be one
Because enough's enough, we're done
You told me think about it, well I did
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore
I'm tired of begging for the things that I want
I'm over sleeping like a dog on the floor
The thing I think I love will surely bring me pain
Intoxication, paranoia, and a lot of fame
Three cheers for throwing up, pubescent drama queen
You make me sick, I make it worse by drinking late
Scream until there's nothing left
So sick of playing, I don't want to anymore
The thought of you is no ****ing fun
You want a martyr? I'll be one
Because enough's enough, we're done
You told me think about it, well I did
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore

I'm tired of begging for the things that I want
I'm over sleeping like a dog on the floor
Imagine living like a king someday
A single night without a ghost in the walls
And if the bass shakes the earth underground
We'll start a new revolution now
Now

Hail Mary, forgive me
Blood for blood, hearts beating
Come at me
Now this is war
(**** with this new beat)
Now terror begins inside a bloodless vein
I was just a product of the street youth rage
Born in this world without a voice or say
Caught in the spokes with an abandoned brain
I know you well, but this ain't a game
Blow the smoke in diamond shape
Dying is a gift, so close your eyes and rest in peace

You told me think about it, well I did
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore
I'm tired of begging for the things that I want
I'm over sleeping like a dog on the floor
Imagine living like a king someday
A single night without a ghost in the walls
We are the shadows screaming, take us now
We'd rather die than live to rust on the ground (####)
Source

[Spideysenses]

A spare bed in the spare room? It was all she had at her drouth head parents' house. You cannot miss what you never had. Can't get a worthwhile job after bilbohaw Ward Fouwer. Just like prison and ex-cons. Marked as animals. The dog sleep's on the floor. Who gives a rats.

Sleeping beauty pricks her finger on the spindle of the spinning wheel. When all that is needed is to reinvent the wheel.“Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?” — The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it, until the time comes. The way is shut.- Ignorance or Inattention? When does selfish self-centredness become neglect and abuse?

[Spideysenses]

Odds range of sympathy and empathy: "Are you gan tea waste yurr time writin a pansy book cause yurr drunkard eejit mam didnae love you, yur drunkard stepdad wis a pure c### and yur real dad didna wint you? Boohoo. Poor you. My heart bleeds. Naebiddy wints yae efter fouwer. Ither folk have bin through worse an you an dinna whine, gurn or twinge half as much. Maybe yurr weak. Thought bout at? Fit is thurr to say boot the Bilbo Haw funny farm at folk dinna ariddy kane? It is a shame but ats life. Thurs nuhin efter it. It is ah fouwer. It is ah in your mind. Abiddy who goes air - nae a hope in hell. Ex-cons hae mare oh a chance oh gitten work. Fit macks you different? You werr air in thone place an at nivir goes awa. I am lumbered noo. Good job I hae higher principles than most men."

No. I did not speak to anyone about it. There is no point in arguing with someone who believes their own lies. To escape the cycle I was forced into, I would have to reach out at some point. I was reduced to feeling like I did not deserve good things in my life. I had to deal with the guilt of letting everyone down alone. Until it was clear that I had been let down. I was driven to consider suicide and then took an overdose because of what happened in my life.

The false belief that everyone who has had mental health treatment in the hospital does not go on to have a good life, was nonsense. It stemmed from the addicts who do not get better. That was not me and I was informed and assured that the doctors knew I was not destined for that fate. I did not want sympathy. Just an understanding ear.

When with Odd at that God-forsaken house my then-supervisor said to me: "you never complain, you just get the job done." They saw me as a bit of an enigma. They did not realise that I was a shadow of my former self. I was also called: "a good quine." So I cannot say that I did not gain anything from that job. I had been called a good worker before the meltdown. More times than not, I always seemed to land with the manager who had issues and had it in for me. It was not in my mind. I inadvertently put one's nose out of joint. All I could think was: how could I be a threat after Four? Not in my hometown. I had to move. To get better work I had to move.

I did not nag. He was the one who blamed me for problems that were not there like not having a proper sports car. That is all he cared about. Beating the Jones's. I said that I would have a better job yesterday if we moved. I cried. I carried on. I tried to get him to do things that did not involve drinking and fighting. I would not have dared to go to the gym alone or with a pal. I could use the car for work to make money but that was it. I did not risk giving him any more ammunition to bottle up.

I never said my old dear never loved me. She blew hot and cold. Mainly cold. Favoured boys. She messed herself up. My blood father reopened old wounds. I did not depend on one person or external validation. Ever. I was not getting a break anywhere so I could not relax. I learned who to listen to and who to block out and ignore. I did not have trustworthy people in my life, but all the same, I tried to put my trust in a select few people. Better to have tried and lost than never tried at all.

* blew hot and cold. Mainly cold.
Mixed messages. My old dear does not have bipolar. Bipolar is treatable and a person can learn until it fades into the background. She definitely has histrionic personality disorder traits. My Gran was a full-blown alcoholic. Not a day without it. Was it because she never had a chance to use her brain in the world? She was intelligent. As a youth, I put it down to that and being lonely from retiring too early and being God-fearing. My old dear would go to crazy lengths to change to fit in when they moved around. Her accent completely changing in some instances. She would go around the house naked and tell me to stop overreacting when I asked her to get a towel, please. She'd say: "Ave only got what you've got." It cannot be surprising that I ended up with bipolar and not plain old depression.

"What happens when you ignore a histrionic?
Recurrent attention-seeking behaviours may lead you to believe that ignoring a histrionic personality is the only way to go. But, ignoring someone with a histrionic personality may increase their emotional distress and, in turn, increase the chance of more attention-seeking and overdramatic behaviours"

I used to have to answer my old dear at least five times in a row when I was young until she was satisfied I had given her the answer she wanted. Right or wrong came second to: "Do what you are told or be warned we will come down on you like a tonne of bricks."
If I did not give her the answer she was looking for she would not let me leave it. My answer, my feelings, and my opinion did not matter. I would not bend to her madness. In order to prevent her lies from being exposed, she would wear everyone else down. My family broke through stress and went beyond. My Grandfather had a breakdown before leaving the Navy. Or was it the cult he was a part of in secret that led to his discharge? My old dear brought on her own sabbatical with drugs. My Gran ran on whisky till the day she passed. No one was normal. My stepdad drinks every night. My blood father and old dear were two broken lost souls. I do not know who caused who more harm. But my old dear would have tried to give back as much as she got and more. And my blood father's affliction was a wolf chained in the shadows of the closet you did not want to stir. Did his training help or hinder? My old dear and ..... bring out the worst in one another.

I did not make up the Glaswegian with the baseball bat threatening to phone the social services on my old dear for screaming at me! My mother was too good at manipulating other people with her "character" charm. "She is a character" people would say. She is an actress of sorts that is correct. The type you should not be taken in by but people fall for it all the time. The type that some dislike intently but are too afraid to be too forward with because they know she has a "dangerous" personality. Take it from me: it is all a show. Two-faced. Try ten faces. I am her daughter and she almost succeeded in making me a sacrificial lamb for her own ends. My blood father would have done anything to go back to the Army too. They were peas in a pod there.

When we would go on a shopping trip my old dear would cause the same scene every time. In the shop, she would say: " I am the only one who got nothing today. Everyone else bought something except me." So my step-dad would suggest a place to go or to go somewhere else the next day and she would complain loud enough for people to hear: "You never take me anywhere. I do not go anywhere to wear nice clothes. When I lived in .... I would buy clothes from Wallis. We do not go out to nice places here. I will go without for you lot." She was no martyr. She made no sacrifices. Why would I take Drama when I had enough growing up in my family from my old dear? It is ok to not be in the mood for clothes shopping. To be a girl and not be into fashion. But she would twist it. Everyone gets and not me. It was not true.
She was on top of the pecking order. So that automatically made me bottom. She put herself first. She was not just jealous of me. She was jealous of how men and boys appeared to have and often get more freedom than women and girls. So she tried to suck up to men and be as "hard" as the men in her life. She did not like being a woman and did not like women. Her worldview is skewed and messed up.
I know that women get frustrated with men and how they escape responsibility for their actions sometimes. But my old dear took the biscuit. It was like she thought she had the right to project her anger outwards and wreak havoc on people's lives for not being born a man. Except she wanted to get away with all the things that some men should not get away with. Control by fear and violence and abuse. Taking her #### out on everyone around her.

[Spideysenses]

I was never lazy. I did not apply myself for a spell because I was an introvert. More importantly, it was likely that I had symptoms of complex PTSD from the trauma of home which also brings depression with it. In so many parts of my life, I was given the message that being an introvert was not acceptable. I had to come out of my shell. I had to speak louder. I had to change. I was difficult. I was dour. Watch the quiet ones closely.
I chose to stick to my guns. In all fairness, my high school teachers never realised that I was naturally shy. They never told me I had to work on my confidence. But everywhere else was a different story. Friends. Clubs. Some workplaces.
Some workplaces thought I was quiet whereas others thought I was arrogant and snobbish. I overcame my shyness anyway as I came through a withdrawn phase I had where I left one group of friends. I found that when confidence was forced some people did not buy it. When I was relaxed and my normal comfortable self people would often speak away to me. I do not need this mask I came to realise. The people in my life were wrong. I did not want to fit in everywhere. To be everywhere is to be nowhere.
I did not just try and do the right thing. I did everything right. I grew up quickly. I tried for better job opportunities because I was competent, and able and I wanted to use my brain instead of being trapped in revolving-door jobs. I tried with my family. They never called so I did. My old dear, it felt, phoned to check I was still alive. The contact was so scant. She never cared about me or my life like an ordinary parent. I was putting in all the effort and getting nothing back from anyone. The chance of a career of my own had dwindled to a far-off dream. Four. Fanning the flames.

[Spideysenses]

Personality clash. He divulged that he was a control freak and would criticise students who helped him out for no pay, for "getting too attached." Once you left he was all over you like a rash with his gossip and lies to try and destroy you and save you revealing him as a user who (took advantage of ) exploited young people.
In Pillar's book, having attachments was a hindrance. That did not explain why a man of his age, would go to clubs at the weekend and take young women home. He was unperturbed by what anyone said. He always had a disgraceful reputation. From his own experience, he knew that sport was a way out for many youngsters. There was not much opportunity in the area for progression. Who you know nepotism, determines life chances.

He hated me for being intelligent and for having an exit strategy (to be my own boss) of my own that did not need someone like him to pull strings; however, that does not excuse his decision to ruin my first impression at a job I needed. The job that paid for the training and competitions I went to, to represent his club!
After being in hospital after a collapse and to hear how the snake fed my old dear a pack of lies and feigned sympathy and at the same time told my then partner to leave me there and then point-blank? It was well known he was in a long-distance relationship with a teenage girl. So why would I beg him to be a referee? He bullied and harassed me. He exploited me and other youngsters by procuring slave labour. His comments were nothing short of demeaning sexual harassment.
He has no respect for women.

It was not a case of I would rather work at terrible jobs than have to rely on someone like Pillar. I could never rely on him or be associated with him ever again because of the way he was and what he was as well as what he had done to me. I was prepared to take a job where the conditions were not the greatest, to get someone who was good, honest, hardworking and trustworthy and who could help me get a more fulfilling role in the future. If that meant chopping and changing to do so then I was set. It did not matter where I was supposed to be by then, but where I was going. The only way to survive was to look to the future.

Do not darken my doorway ever again. I was not your student. To say he was a dirty unscrupulous coward does not come close to what I have said and what others know and say - that men with his proclivities do not change.

[Spideysenses]

Back in the eighties, this was acceptable. She was not called the Iron Lady for no good reason. It is unthinkable now. It is a right.

Tory Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher said at the time: "Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay. All of those children are being cheated of a sound start in life"

Tory policies have cheated millions of children out of a good start in life.

[Spideysenses]

Football is a gentleman's game played by thugs.
Rugby is a thugs game played by gentlemen.

[Spideysenses]

I had to see my parents arguing on the stairs at the weekend. My old dear screamed at him while he waited for the moment to strike back keeping the fight going. He always had the final finger point and then she would slam the door on him. I had to wait for it to play out from a safe distance. She argued with my stepdad when they were drunk. He threw the hi-fi one time and back then a sound system was heavy enough and large enough to have seriously injured a person if it struck the head, especially a child.

I believed my old dear when she said that before the stroke had struck his physical health and weakened one side, my blood father was verbally and psychologically abusive to her. I had to witness them fight every week he collected me after he contacted a solicitor for rights so I saw first-hand that he was not the innocent party. It was one truth among all the lies. I suspected that my mum's counterculture days were hedonistic. Her temper was worsened by chemical abuse before she met my blood father. Her "ticky heart" was likely down to the drugs she took. She has needed to take blood pressure tablets since her twenties. I asked for a loan for a course I had to defer and she said: "get yourself a man." She is back to her old self. The mini-heart attack has been forgotten about. She will do all the wrong things instead of the one right thing for as long as she can find others to play her games and be willing accomplices.

[Nanuq]

Hi,
Have you ever had any counselling?
You seen to have so much stuff going on.

[Spideysenses]

Fascism: I sometimes fear...
I sometimes fear that
people think that fascism arrives in fancy dress
worn by grotesques and monsters
as played out in endless re-runs of the Nazis.

Fascism arrives as your friend.
It will restore your honour,
make you feel proud,
protect your house,
give you a job,
clean up the neighbourhood,
remind you of how great you once were,
clear out the venal and the corrupt,
remove anything you feel is unlike you...

It doesn't walk in saying,
"Our programme means militias, mass imprisonments, transportations, war and persecution."

[Spideysenses]

The abusive relationship has to be the nucleus of the story. Back and forth through discussions with

[Spideysenses]

As you are shifting
You will begin to realise you are
Not the same person you used to be.
Sing. The things you used to tolerate
Have now become unacceptable.
When you once remained quiet, remain,
You are now speaking your truth.
Where you once battled and argued you are now
Choosing to remain silent.
You are beginning to understand the value of your voice
And there are some situations that no longer
Deserve your time, focus and energy. Rise.

[Spideysenses]

A breakdown is due to trying to be strong for too long. Talking to one person once is sometimes enough. Except life does not always grant you the right person at the right time. So maybe I am a touch lucky to be here. I am where I want to be. I am in the headspace I need to be in.

[Spideysenses]

Sometimes we have to say: f##k them.
I cannot deal with this at this very second so I have to say (in my head): they can get to f##k, I cannot deal with this right now. I have to deal with it later.
Ah f##k they did not just say that. Do not say: stuff it. No need to tell anyone to go to hell. Do say to yourself: F##k them. I do not have to listen to them. They have no idea. Agree to disagree.

[Spideysenses]

Odd accused me of projecting. No. Odd was using displacement.
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/displacement

[Spideysenses]

Displacement in Therapy and Mental Health

Defense mechanisms crop up for everyone from time to time; displacement only interferes with mental health when it becomes habitual or interferes with daily life, such as a job or relationship.

Displacement may relieve distress or preserve self-esteem in the moment but damage well-being over time. The reaction can exacerbate personal problems or relationship conflict while failing to address the underlying problem.

It can be difficult to recognize displacement, so a therapist can be a helpful guide. The therapist may observe patterns in which a patient seems to overreact or redirect frustration onto a seemingly unrelated person. The pair can then explore the root cause so the patient can move forward.

Why does displacement occur?
Displacement takes place because it’s sometimes safer or easier to focus on a less threatening person. In the case of the employee who is reprimanded by his boss, responding in anger could cost him his job. Responding differently would require skills of confrontation and conflict resolution. Displacing his anger onto his spouse or child provides a less powerful, lower stakes, and more controllable target.

How does displacement manifest in therapy?
Displacement may arise in therapy for patients who struggle with anger problems. Anger may be often related to adverse childhood experiences (ACEs), such as physical, emotional or sexual abuse, neglect, witnessing violence, parental divorce, and parental alcohol or substance abuse.

These individuals may not have been able to acknowledge or fully process their emotions as children. It can be overwhelming to endure pain and not be able to seek comfort from a caretaker who perpetrates this suffering, so anger may be displaced onto someone else. This pattern can continue throughout adulthood: Problems with authority, law enforcement, bullying, or relationships can lead someone to seek therapy. These emotions and experiences can then be explored.

How can people counter displacement?

What’s the difference between displacement and projection?
Projection is another defense mechanism, in which people attribute their feelings or desires to someone else. For example, if a bully constantly ridicules a peer about his insecurities, the bully might be projecting his own struggle with self-esteem onto the other person. Projection and displacement are similar, but projection involves misinterpreting the target’s motivations, while displacement involves misattributing one’s own response

Psychology today

[Spideysenses]

Nae yours. Drama seeking. Responsibility shirking. I know my family are not: through thick and thin. I also know that people figure it out without a pre-warning. I won't pretend that I am not upset about the family holiday. It is only one week. I cannot be around people whose sole interest is to drink from lunch until bed seeing as I have not touched a drop for (undisclosed) weeks. This time no falling off the wagon. I have to pretend I do not know about this secret holiday. Sigh. Cue the Scottish weary sigh: what a palava. I will just have to be a boring so and so - fill in the blanks with their words- . I am the anti-social one in their eyes. I would rather gym, go hiking at weekends in the fresh air and go out for food than go to a sticky, cramped pub now I'm in my thirties.
Honestly, if they want to rib me and laugh by saying: we will ask her out with us to bowling/meals and she will order lemonade. Then that is how it goes. I am excluded because of alcohol; because I do not drink alcohol; because my life does not revolve around alcohol. It is a sad state of affairs.
I nipped my brief self-destructive phase in the bud. Some people never do. I have to keep my distance to stay on track. I think I may have to never touch alcohol ever again. I have never been addicted or dependent so I thought that I would be able to enjoy a relaxing drink. I am re-evaluating that thought. My first book will be from a tee-total me. I am calling this Day One.
In the UK a woman dies every three days at the hands of their partner. That figure does not include suicides. More women die each year from domestic violence than knife crime.

[Spideysenses]

Professional life goal - make good art

[Spideysenses]

I never stopped working. I was the one doing what was right. Yet I was the one living in fear of being left in the lurch. I was left in the lurch. I fled because I knew that this lull, the calm was a bad omen. Luckily I had local connections. It was unfair that I had built myself back up to the point where I was ready to take on more. But I was one person. Live longer. Get well. Live more. Live with purpose. Find oneself again.
It gets me thinking about homelessness and its causes. The roots go much deeper than a roof over a person's head. Many think it is drugs and mental health. But many homeless people take substances because they are homeless. They do not always become homeless because of drugs. It does not matter how tired a person is, sleeping on the concrete ground in the cold will not bring sleep. A church floor is not a long-term solution. Having soup kitchens and warm halls to drop in, means admitting the existence of society's failures.
It can be hard to get a good night's sleep at home. Getting the right pillow for the way you sleep. Cool to warm room but not hot. I have been camping and in caravans and I find it hard to sleep in that instance. So I imagine that homeless people will take substances to get some rest or in an attempt to bring some. Yes, some fall into substance abuse before.
Preventing homelessness would mean having to treat and cure all mental health issues. To remove all stigmatisation. A utopian fantasy which we all know is always a dystopian nightmare.
It would mean having to have every family in the country subjected to a psychological evaluation to have early interventions for at-risk youths. Families conceal secrets. Many families cover for each other.
It would mean not having a capitalist-based society that promotes competition. What is the alternative? We do need to bolster and protect public services while promoting competition and attracting investment. Preserve the NHS, do not turn to the private sector. Everyone deserves the same healthcare. Everyone. Healthcare is a Human Right.

It would mean having to treat every veteran with PTSD and get them integrated back into civilian life like their service did not change them. Just change them back. All they have left sometimes is their pride. Not a beggar but a chooser. Once a soldier. Always a soldier.
It would mean finding a fictional magic pill where the ills run deep in society and human nature. Aldous Huxley's Brave New World has savages. George Orwells 1984 has Proles. Class wars. Sometimes, people do not respond to psychiatric medication. There are not that many approved thus far. Some people are not open and receptive to help. It takes a combination of therapies to get well.
Sometimes a person leaves a home because it is the mental health of others in the household that is too harmful and violent and dangerous. If they fear the ones they escape enough will they go to local authorities for help and have their abuser(s) find them?

[Spideysenses]

I rebelled but not in the sense we come to think here. It was not substances. My parents were only interested in their own social lives and giving me a good start in life was not considered important to them. I was bottom of their pecking order. I spent so much time with my grandparents as a youth. We went to the beach/woods/the park every Sunday when the weather permitted and had tea and cakes with our extended family.
It was jarring to then have them turned against me. Many of my teachers seem to take an attitude similar to theirs. I was so smart so I could figure it all out on my own. I also felt like they did not want to endorse someone from my "disadvantaged" (working-class) background. They did not think I lacked confidence. When it became clear, that I was not going down the "safe" academic route, instead of seeing it as a choice, I was condemned and stamped lazy. In smaller communities mud sticks but I had made the right choice.

[Spideysenses]

I may have gotten a dog by now. But all the sellers I have contacted have insisted on reserving a specific puppy and putting a deposit down before seeing them. Maybe sellers are still in the pandemic state of mind. I would never commit to buying a puppy before seeing how they are beforehand and how they react to me. Sellers expect a person to accept their description eg. the mum and dad are good-natured. Mums only had one litter.

[Spideysenses]

At eighteen if my parents had the money and could get away with it, they would rather have silenced me so I didn't get better, rest up and find the courage to talk. They would not have cared what happened to me with that money. Make sure she does not talk by any means necessary. Through their scapegoating campaign of lies and manipulation, my grandparents would take my mum's side come hell or high water and they believed one hundred and one per cent, that others would consider the conspiracy theories if they enforced them enough. They did try and silence me by ignoring a positive prognosis in favour of their warped agenda. It failed abysmally.

After 28 days I was sent home after the doctors went over the conclusion with me and me alone. It was like a slap in the face to my parents. Their control was compromised and cracks were appearing. Respect must be earned. Having power over someone by fear will have consequences. The tide will turn and people will push back. What my parents would do with that stinging pain would be what they always did. How dare I oust them. How did I manage to do it? I was just a little girl. A teenage girl. I was just a girl. I had no power to change anything. Men had the power. It was inconceivable that I would be listened to over them.

I overheard my mum say to my grandad: "I did not like the woman doctor. A man would not have taken pity on err." They were cut from the same cloth. They lied and I told the truth! I have had male psychiatrists who are equally as easy to speak to and care about what I am doing and plan to do with my life. I spoke to male officers when making a statement but I was asked if I would only speak to female officers. I think that it was good for me to have seen female doctors because I did not grow up around that many working professional women in my close family or the circle of friends I grew up with. Some did not respect themselves as much as they were supposed to.

I am the one who has grown up and done the heavy lifting with family. They still live a double life towards me. If people have helped me it is not because I asked or begged. It is because I was worthy of it. I fought hard for it. I was screwed over and thrown to the wolves. It wasn't right, just or fair that I was eighteen and made to feel that one month, would equate to the end of my life. So I set out to hone my art.

I was listened to and straight off the bat it was understood that it was a genuine breakdown. I started to believe that my future could be a lot different from the past. I had to keep doing what I was doing and one day the bad relationship would also sink into the ether and my subconscious would be able to deal with it. It is not too late. That line of thinking is playing into the hands of everyone who put me on the shelf at eighteen. It is not too late. It feels that way but it is not.

[Spideysenses]

Pull the wool over their eyes: escaping scapegoating.
Being working class is not synonymous with abuse and hardship. My old dear tried to make me believe that our economic position was partly to blame for the mayhem I was brought up in. Like it came with the territory and I was the weak one for getting help and following my own path. So I was not going to fall for Odds lies. I could not subject myself never mind a future family to more games. But being working class did affect how I was treated in the eyes of teachers and employers and club leaders. It affected what friends I made. I understand my tutors/teachers frustrations. I had potential. How frustrating do you think it was for me when the writers block I thought I had was really a combination of complex PTSD and depression?

[Spideysenses]

Perspective: Uneventful is good. Uneventful means things went well.

[Spideysenses]

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.you...pologize%3famp

* I would substitute the term narcissistic with: a fragile ego/fragile sense of self

https://ideas.ted.com/why-some-peopl...se%20of%20self.

https://www.womensaid.org.uk/informa...c-abuse/myths/

[Spideysenses]

It has taken this long to get my dragon to retreat to its lair. I do not think that I can save other people. It is about having someone to relate to at a point in life when you feel alone. Being able to inspire someone to look at their own resources within as well as reach out.

I could have blamed the collapse. For the rest of my life, I could have solely blamed everything that happened in my life which had led to the collapse for ruining my life and stopping it in its tracks. I could have not just blamed the cuts and lacerations, I could have held them accountable until I died because they were accountable for me feeling how I did. Feeling trapped. Like I was the one who had let everyone down. The stigma that followed the collapse could have dictated my whole life. The collapse and the stigma only happened because of what happened in my life. I did not need help with my choices. I made peace with them and got back on course. I spoke to who I needed to when I needed to and I was lucky in that respect. I needed help to escape from others who made my life hell. Others cruelly knocked me back off course. I needed the time and space to pull the threads of my life together away from the people who had backed me into a corner.

It has dawned on me that Odd's abusive ways were more like my old dear than never left. Trying to make me feel like I did not deserve more from life. That from birth I was doomed and could not change anything. That I was damaged goods when he himself was emotionally unstable and would never face it. He enjoyed violence because it made him feel big. I had been through enough madness and abuse from my family. Writing was never a silver lining. It was not a far-off dream to help me cope with a harsh reality. It was my goal from day one. Not this garbling recollections. To be a storyteller. To write a Good vs Evil adventure as old as time. A good old-fashioned love story. The main difference between sci-fi and fantasy is as follows: sci-fi has rivets and fantasy has trees. So let's world-build thinking Fantasy.

[Spideysenses]

Downplaying my existing computer skills on my cv was wrong. I should have changed it rather than taken advice from someone I hardly knew from Adam. I could navigate a computer from the age of Four. I cannot give my family credit for much, but they would encourage me to be active. I never had any interest in coding, programming or the mechanics of tech and machinery. If I went into science I would have been interested in biology and organic matter. Not computer science. What is alive and breathing. The natural world. With computing, I only ever wanted to know enough. I selected biology and chemistry. I could have taken physics for the full set. But it just was not my path. I knew that something malevolent was waiting and it was close. Womens intuition spoke to me.

I could have gone into the corporate world like some of my family. I chose not to. Why turn my back on what I thought was a beautiful part of the world? For what? To appear like I was "a success"? I was using my brain but for the right reasons? For me? Or for the men in my family who never had my interests at heart at all and who I did not want to be like in any way shape or form. Look I have the title, the tailored suit, the car built for comfort not for speed. Booked my all inclusive holiday on the beach. Time share in Bulgaria. Ski-ing in the fall. Away for winter sun in the new year. I took four days to get ready for a prosecco/ gin day. Wednesday nails. Thursday eyebrows. Friday spray tan. Saturday hearing girls throwing up after a glass too many. Home to my wine rack which I do not touch. Get the forty year old whisky out instead. "Yeah but if you made something of yourself in the city, you could have bought a second home on the coast somewhere." I do not need a second home! I just want one peaceful home.

I am self-motivated. I was forced to feel like I had to turn my cv inside out and put focus on the people skills sections, when that was natural to me by then. I had found my feet before. I could get there again.
I had to downplay what I was actually good at because there were not many jobs available to me in my home area. I went against the grain because I needed to survive. But I did not want to do that forever. Why can't I play to my strengths? How was I going to meet people on my brainwave if I was taking jobs that were suited to people who were vastly different to me? I had to break the cycle at some point. I did not know that I would have to break down to mend first. Eighteen did not need to happen but because it did, I had to turn to my art even more. I had to keep the creative spark lit and ignore anyone who questioned why. This place is perfect for an artist so why would I want to leave?

I am not wallowing in the past or dwelling on what might have been. Odd did what he did to me - almost left me stranded - because he thought that compared to him I was nothing. I could not let this happen to me again. Being left for dead. The temptation to change and harden up was growing louder but to me, that was giving up.

[Spideysenses]

Thinking is difficult.
That is why most people judge.

Carl Gustav Jung

[Spideysenses]

I'm staying put. I have not ruled out a counsellor. I am certain that I have unravelled all the threads I need to, and have all the tools I need for the future. I feel that going any further will just be splitting hairs. I need to live. To move on is to grow.