Happy New Year 2010.......

Earlier this week I happily rubbed my hands together thinking it’s almost New Year. I couldn’t believe how much I was looking forward to it...

This has been a mad year; nevertheless it’s been a good year apart from May-June & July when my family and I, had to come to terms with a sad piece of news. I won’t hash over it now.... All families have ups and downs to contend with.... But listen, that’s when you know your part of a family and thankfully it doesn’t matter how big or small your family is... it’s when you get on the down side of life, you all suddenly pull together and in supporting one another, the burden becomes so much easier to bear. If you’re out there and you have no family, please let me share this with you... I don’t have a large family unit... over the years my friends have become my family, so just remember, family does not necessarily have to be blood related.

Personally, I have found being positive a real boost in life... It’s got me through some really tough times... I know it’s hard when you’re feeling down and the depression is kicking in. What you have to try hard to focus on and consciously remember is... the lower you sink into your black hole of doom, the harder it is to climb up. There are so many positive things in life that once the vision is clear and you’re able to think straight... you just have to concentrate on those positives, really think about them no matter how trivial they may seem... Slowly my friend, it will become clear to you the only way out, is up...

For me I think most of my positive vibes became stronger once I discovered I truly belonged... In finding that elusive happiness which I had long searched for, I discovered my self confidence grew and I seriously felt there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do for myself or my family and friends....

So here it is.... Here’s my warm, wonderful, wish for all my readers for The New Year 2010.... Keep Positive, stay focused, if you feel like you don’t belong, then help someone else to belong; I have found the payback from helping someone else, is treble the initial outlay ... Keep plenty of laughter in your life even when you don’t feel like smiling.... your smile will brighten someone else’s day and that in itself is a tonic...

So Happy New Year to one and all. I sincerely hope each and every one of you triumphs in whatever you do.

Angel, will see you next year... where she has no doubt she will continue unreservedly, sharing her life, love, laughter, tears and importantly her perceptions on life. :) xxx

Tears of happiness..............

I have cried a phenomenal amount of times and for a million different reasons. The latest bout of tears I'm very happy to report, is tears from my unadulterated happiness....

Not only is this the season to be in high spirits but at the moment I’m feeling totally overwhelmed, even so I'm happy to share this with you... a few hours ago, I received a notification advising me I'm to be published. In March 2010...

Let me explain.... In November this year, I submitted a short story after seeing a question on a popular website. The question asked if a book had ever changed my life...... Very quickly the answer came to me. I wrote about it and enjoyed writing the piece very much... My story is going to be included in a very special book, all about other books that have meant so much to others like you and I....

I feel honoured as well as privileged, not only is it the confirmation and acceptance from a big publishing house, it's also a dream that was placed right at the top of my Christmas wish list.

Over the last few hours I have felt a variety of emotions and for an emotional being like me that’s a regular occurrence... I'm feeling it's the perfect start to a bright future, where hopefully a door will be opened and a writer let through, for although I knew I was a writer to me its just been joyfully confirmed... I have the potential, the passion and the enthusiasm...

I have so many ideas and plans the list is now endless. But my friends, I think this is the start of a wonderful journey and I’m so very happy to oblige... I just needed the opportunity because I know without a doubt I have the devotion...... I will unquestionably keep you posted!

Happy Christmas and a joyous 2010 to you... :) xxxx

Life.. Love.. With Little White Lies....

It suddenly dawned on me via the bright light bulb in my head, that something’s in life no matter where, what or who, will never ever change if they dont have the inclination.

Has you all know, I have my own regular light bulb detector, which for most of the time I manage to keep set on low.... This bulb is safely surrounded in a formation. It’s structure like setting is securely glued within my brain and will intermittently flash brightly very much like a neon sign when it clearly realises it needs to make a choice or if through a sudden confirmation could well be months after a decision it confirms the choice and allows me to see that the choice made at that time was for the best. This for the most part is comforting, so often we make choices and decisions but still we question and worry if it was the right thing to do, or not....

For most of the time we all go through life, happily collecting memories which include experiencing life with its colourful inhabitants. Some of these beings are for one reason and another in our lives for short periods of time, both because their not right for us or just because it's not meant to be... Maybe they have their own problems or ultimately their dreams are not your dreams. Whatever the reason, a person won’t stay with you if they don’t want to.... The best thing any of us can do, especially if in a relationship they/you don’t wish to be in, is leave.... It’s usually always for the best, (even if at this moment in time you dont believe that to be true) ... Thankfully the rest of life’s beautiful people are firmly stuck in your heart or attached to your hip because of who, why and what they are... they will always remain.....

Those memories which may be attached to difficult relationships or endings where a struggle took place... should at some stage fade for it’s participants, enabling them to heal... there should be a gentle relaxation within your respective lives with a feeling of relief that you’re no longer living in those times with the possibility of being hurt or rejected. In being apart your both finally and at long last allowed to grow because you’ve been honest in moving on.... Eventually this allows for a wonderful and exciting new chapter to begin.

I’ve had lots of feedback from friends, who have advised me they've tried to be forgiving, trying gently to be friends.... They’ve been polite, open, honest and importantly they were themselves. I discovered It became important for them, to be who they knew themselves to be, but sadly sometimes we all heal at different rates. Occasionally its not possible to be friends, you may find you’re not been received very well, which causes you to feel completely and utterly disappointed. quite often bringing to the surface all those hurt rejected empty feelings. Then you wish with all your heart you hadn't bothered by opening up possible feelings to friendship ......

I’m of the opinion, no matter how many years you get under your belt some of life’s lessons are hard, but you know what my friend, ..... Some people need to look into their own soul, decide which way they need to be.... if you’ve decided and you’re happy, I wish you well... but if you look inside and instantly know you were not cool or that comment or action was un-called for or you pretended to be friends in the hope of finding out irrelevant stuff causing the other person to open up and as so very often happens the other person closes down, leaving another feeling awful... then you know ultimately you were unfair in giving a false impression but so many people do mislead others either by intention or of course unintentional... this ends up causing untold hurt.... you need to address yourself by making amends, which isn't always possible ..... Causing hurt like this is really thoughtless and is totally unecessary, if your not ready to be open warm and genuine then you need to walk on rather then continue to cause the hurt that happens when others are genuine towards you!!!

This is it my friend.... It’s what we do in the here and now that’s crucially important... how we make people feel is vital and fundamental in helping and supporting the rest of our society. I have a saying... One of my own life’s philosophies....

"People will not remember what you said or even what you did.... How ever they will always remember how you made them feel.... "

May all your thoughts be good ones; it’s those thoughts that make good things happen......

Angel will inevitably fly by with more thoughts on life and love.... Till next time, big warm, sincere smile... If we don't meet before Christmas, Have a happy one and listen try to remember all who are less fortunate then us! :) xxxx

The Librarian...............................................

She looks every inch the librarian but hey come closer...... Looks can be deceiving.

Within the heart of a Library I sit at my counter. I’ve worked here for the last 29years... I quietly think about the past whilst I count moments I’ve shared in life with the customers who have frequented my Library.

My mother once told me with a sad faraway look of pain, etched deeply into the grooves of her ugly face that when I was born in the January of 1965, it was extremely cold. The vast amounts of icy snow that fell, brought the country to a standstill. I was almost born on the pavement in the street. Sitting here now aged 44 years and looking very much the part of a typical librarian... I think back over my life and I know with certainty back then, I didn’t know the path I would walk with all the good, bad and dark times I would willingly or unwillingly share with those unfortunate enough to get to know me. I also smiled knowing when people looked at me they saw as I have already mentioned, a typical librarian.

But underneath this dull, plain, tweedy exterior lies a totally different person; I’m alive, vibrant, and deeply dark, always wishing for the impossible. I love life, I get what I want. I've a dark delicious and daring secret.... a life others don't or wouldn’t even dare to dream about... You know what, let me tell you this... exteriors can be removed, painted, altered even disfigured... I'm a brilliant actress. I should receive an Oscar, why? For all the deceitful, daring qualities I need to successfully carry off two completely different lives. Yes, life is good!

Take today for instance as usual, I was up at 6.30am to see to mother, who by the way is bedridden because of her inexplicable, continual ill health.... She depends on me for lots of things especially her morning routine. I wash, dress and feed her not forgetting her extra-special spiked herbal drink of doom..... With Mother seen to, I organise myself. I know later on mother’s home-help will arrive to continue her care, allowing me to continue in the job I pretended to love.

I arrive at the town’s library for 8.00am sharp. First I see Mr Flynn; he’s the building security man, he nods, raises his black peeked cap. Mr Flynn, has been here almost as long as I have and you know what, he probably has more secrets then I do.

Smiling I walk quickly to the main doors, unlocking them. Swiftly hurrying through the library’s double doors, first stop is the staff room where I secure my belongings in my own private locker. I put on the kettle preparing to make a welcome cup of tea. Whilst waiting for the kettle I listen to its familiar hum. I realise it’s the start of another busy week here in my library, a library that has somehow managed to become my home. How did that happen? I’m not sure! Maybe it's the thought that at the end of each day, I have to drag myself home to mother and that very thought fills me with absolute and utter dread. The library, its customers and my double existence manage to take my mind off my problems. The loud click of the kettle instantly brings me back to earth.

Walking through to my station I remember the post, I rush eagerly to collect it before I sip hot tea and organise the day’s events. Turning on the computer, I suddenly remember with a jolt I’ve a rather large group of students coming in at 9.00am. I’m to introduce them to the history section alas I know from previous experience, I’ll have to help them with their endless questions about life and their dull meaningless research. As Usual.... the alarm sharply rings out 9.00am; both doors electronically but serenely swish open bringing with it my students who for once, are unbelievably on time.

Hello Miss Daly they all sing out, I wave and indicate towards the large black & gold silence sign... I hear a few silly high pitched giggles and a few more sing out,

"Sorry Miss Daly”.... Raising my eyebrows, I brush back my smooth black bun. Tiredly I smile clinging on to my chained spectacles... I try briefly to remember how I must have been at their age. I quickly remember it’s my job to provide these young people with a service of access to information. Ha... if only they knew.... Hurriedly I surge towards them, indicating impatiently for them to follow. Almost at once the questions start coming thick and fast,

“Miss Daly, where will I find a book on Napoleon & Josephine’s love story?”

"Miss, where will I find something on Henry the 8th?”

"Miss Daly. I really...really...really need to have this essay completed in the next hour, it’s on Queen Victoria’s conquests” again unfortunately more stupid giggles.

"Miss Daly, would it be possible for you to show me how to research the Romans as I need......”

I come to an abrupt halt... in absolute hair pulling frustration I physically shudder. Staring at the highly glossed wooden floor, feeling immense irritation. I slowly turn... explaining as calmly as possible to impatient students, that I'm neither a computer nor a robot and from now on it would be one question at a time... followed by the answer because that's proper manners and pure common courtesy...

My students looked embarrassed, standing silent, some of them twitching, some of them moving from one foot then on to the other. A few mumbles of Sorry Miss.....

I really don’t know what gets into young people sometimes; they just don’t stop to think. I turn quickly on my heels, power walking to the department I needed to me in... My last thoughts before their lesson were..... Mmmmm... Bring on the night!

Bella's Vision's....

When Bella goes to bed at night, she always manages to see and hear sights and sounds that no human being should witness. Bella is also guilty of speaking to people in those far away distant lands... Deathdom & Spiritsville. This occasionally disturbs her to the point where she crys..... If Bella were honest, she would tell you she cries often...

Let me introduce myself, my name is Jaline, I am Bella’s guardian angel, I act as her teacher and guide. My place in this particular tale is by Bella’s side. I have been there since the day she emerged into this particular life.... I hand over the story to Bella; she will tell you what there is to share.

Present Day:
I opened sleepy eyes wide as if I were startled, years of broken sleep and a nagging feeling of being fearful would do that to you. A final stretch catapulted me into the present, encouraging me to get on with my day. I looked around my room surprised not to see Jaline, who was fast becoming my constant companion.

Now let me explain.... I am Bella. I’m 32, a well known psychic medium. I’ve been this way since my grandmother died. I was approximately 4yrs old... she was my shining light, I adored her... her passing devastated me, to the point where I stopped eating. I constantly demanded my grandmother be returned to me... I would try to get out of the house at every opportunity; just so I could look for her... My parents often told me, it was such a terrible time for everyone. Grandma was the light in everyone’s life but to have such a distraught little girl, insistent on such a fragile issue was also very hard to deal with. In the end I had to be hospitalized, I would not eat, ending up losing so much weight as well as becoming dehydrated.

My memory is vivid, I recall with clarity the exact moment I witnessed my first vision.... It was my first night in hospital... The nurse had left me after rearranging the drip; I was tired, weak and tearful... At first I wasn’t sure if the shadow in the corner was real but I kept staring at it because it looked like a misty person. The misty person started moving towards me, I felt so scared. I nervously called out hello to it... I was so terribly frightened, I didn’t want it to reach my bed, but it did and when that happened it was as if a light had been switched on in the room, everything illuminated brightly. The lady who stood at the side of me was my beloved grandmother... I cried and laughed attempting to get up, but she gently pushed me back onto my pillow. I saw tears in her eyes and I asked her where she had been.

“Shhhhh my beautiful girl”

Her cool hand stroked my face.

“Everything’s going to be alright... but.... you must eat, you must get well because your mummy and daddy need you to be strong.” Big fat teardrops floated down my grandmother’s face.

“I miss you granny” I cried loudly...

“I know you do my darling, granny misses you too, but this is how it has to be”

I felt my grandmother kiss my forehead.

“Now little lady, you have to promise me you will get well and be a good strong girl... granny promises you this, when you get older you will have the perfect gift... you will be popular... at times you may even feel your gift is a curse, it is not... you will bring much joy, much peace and lots of happiness to those around you.” I noticed the light fading.

“Granny what’s a curse?” I remember asking ... her reply was this...

“A curse my darling girl is when a person wishes with all their heart, they did not possess something in their life... but it will be ok”

“I love you so much granny”

“Remember always special girl, I love you too.” Grandmother was becoming misty,

“Please don’t go” I whimpered.

“I have to sweet pea... I have too”

As she drifted away I managed to touch her hand, our fingers seemed to stick for the longest time. I was completely lost in her beautiful smile and I remember promising myself, this moment I would remember forever.

When the nurse came in she touched my hand which apparently was up in the air. She placed it snugly underneath my sheet, checked my saline solution then left puzzled at the smile on my face.

I looked over to the corner and again the misty shadow was there...

“You’re back” I squealed “You’ve come back.”

I excitedly pushed myself up.... accidently dislodging the long needle from the back of my hand.... Blood spurted everywhere as the mist moved slowly forwards... it was then I met ‘Jaline’ whom I later discovered to be my guardian angel.... I became faint as the door opened and my nurse ran in.....

Apple pie covered in punches....................

At the kitchen table, holding my bruised aching head, I felt my cold legs tremble as I waited for his return. In my heart of hearts I knew the horror would eventually unfold...

It’s been too long; how long could this go on for? .... It’s time to make a change, but how? Where would I take the children? I can't do this by myself not with two children to think about... More tears fall, splashing into the empty oblivion I feel pressing in and around me. The dark hole is nearer....

The air is still but calm making the kitchen’s ticking clock much to loud, I feel an intense irritation with its presence. Another long hour, filled with too many seconds passes... I still hear him screaming... over and over again. I feel his fierce punch as he knocks me to the floor. Scowling down at me, he wears the look of a demon. I press myself into the floor as he kicks out, narrowly missing my cheek. He leaves the house shouting a barrage of abuse, which floats behind him as he slams the door.... This is the man I fell in love with.... we have two children... what’s happened?..... Oh my god what’s happened. So much to think about, I’m tired, so very tired.

I hear a noise from the front of the house... My heart catapults into overdrive, is he here? Sitting upright, holding my breath... the moment moves forward, I realise it’s not him.... falling against the table I cry as if my battered heart will break... I need a plan... They say a plan is needed under circumstances like these... a safety plan.... a code, that’s it. Thinking of a plan just caused me more confusion... I felt to tired to make plans, but his return would cause more pain... My plan for tonight was to endeavour not to make a sound; I did not want the children to wake... I would take his punishment then I would make my plan tomorrow... Yes, make a plan when you’re not tired, there is so much to think about.....

I moved to put the kettle on, maybe he wouldn’t return... sometimes he did that. I didn’t know where he went and to be honest I wasn’t bothered. Feeling a little more positive with the thought of him possibly not returning. I hoped that would mean the plan could formulate sooner rather then later.

I almost dropped the kettle of boiled water when the kitchen door flew open causing a small pane of its glass to smash into smithereens. Hastily I put down the boiled kettle just in time to see my husband stride towards me; he viciously grabbed my hair with his right hand holding my left ear close to his mouth. the words convulsed from him spraying spittle over me.

“I told you I’d be back”

Before I could respond, I was pushed with such force... I flew through the kitchen door towards the hall. I continued and ran into the lounge, I just knew I didn’t want him to take this upstairs, the children would wake. I faced him as he ran towards me; he hit me with the force of a rugby player and tackled me to the ground. The carpet felt rough against my body. He sat on me; he proceeded to belt me across the face with the look of a crazed man. Determined not to cry, I knew his resolution was to break me but unknowlingly by remaining strong I simply caused further physical abuse for myself, his rain of slaps and belts continued unabated... The experience for me this time felt different. I recalled thinking, this man can’t hurt me anymore he’s done enough, so much blatant damage. With each cracking slap, I struggled to hold eye contact with him... I noticed this made him look uncomfortable, I also observed the following slap was harder.

“What’s wrong with you, stupid woman?”

By looking further and deeper into his once beautiful eyes, I saw a glimmer of uncertainty. I felt elated at the thought, this man is history. I tasted blood in my mouth as I whispered these words,

“I’m done with you and I am leaving”

I tried to get up from the floor when in a flash, I felt the horrendous force from a punch to my head. In the grey light before black, I knew I had been knocked out.

Heat-seeker....

Host: White female. Location: United Kingdom. Year: 2024 Time: 3-15am.

In the darkness of the night... I was eerily visited by a demon. It seeped inwards invading my internal space, guiding itself happily and eagerly throughout every nook and cranny of my being.

Its heat seeking speciality pushed itself further and deeper throughout the warm healthy interior part of my arteries & veins. In my sleep I moved and coughed, squirming uncomfortable with its nasty presence but still I didn’t actually wake until it reached my lungs which frighteningly almost burst as it savagely penetrated the rich bright red stuff that immediately started pooling in the lower extremities as a result of the gravity caused by the demons hunger.

On waking I sleepily clutched my chest... it slowly but terrifyingly dawned on me I was not alone.... I knew my circulatory system was being compromised, the persistent coughing spasm was absorbing my strength, causing a dreadful weakness within my life’s own support system. We all know the circulatory system is important for sustaining life; its proper function very much responsible for delivering oxygen, nutrients etc. It’s fundamentally crucial for the whole of our being, producing the life enriching mucus which zaps deep within designated cells. It also removes carbon dioxide and waste products, so is essentially important to the immune system ... I was hysterically clear my complete system at that moment was at dire risk from the demon within.

The precise location on a body map of its veins, organs and ultimately life support system is variable for each individual... but unfortunately arteries are precisely mapped and accessible for any invasive intruder. Clutching my chest, I grabbed hold of the bedside cabinet whilst I continued to feel the demon with his heat seeking activity further investigating my body..... Lumps and bumps with horrendous ferocious activity, visually displayed itself before me. It was one’s own worst nightmare.

The mirrors placed ornamentally at either end of the bed, allowed me to see physical images inside them... blood oozed and sprayed cascading from my nose and eyes... my ears clearly heard the rhythmic bang of my heart beat... I knew the special vessels carrying blood up to my heart were under immense pressure, most of it was now pulsating in spurts through my nose. I felt dizzy and light headed... Despite this massive blood loss, I detected a foul stench which continued further to make me gag.

My tears flowed freely, I realised I was going to die... I had so much to do, this was not possible... I needed to see my family; I wanted to talk to my friends. What had I done that’s been so awful to warrant such an untimely end? Didn’t they know I had unfinished business... I wanted extra time, I would demand that time, How could they do this to me.... this was not right.... Lying back down, I gently folded my hands in prayer; inwardly silent words were played loudly on my internal loudspeaker... I shouted out angrily towards my maker... You can imagine how I felt at the response I received, it was not what I had anticipated.... Being kindly shaken into wakefulness; I looked around my surroundings in a daze... happily surprised, I saw the pristine insides of a hospital room...

“You’ve had a nasty virus my dear” the shaker reported “but you’re ok now.”

Tearful yet smiling, I felt of an overwhelming sensation of joy... Contentedly I pushed myself further into the plump white starched pillow and relaxed. Closing bloodshot but grateful eyes; all I could manage was...

“Thank you. "

I've grown...... I'm me and I love the feeling.

I've grown into the woman I've become because of who I was originally. I know when babies are born, they are born essentially good....it’s what they ultimately experience, that moulds them for the life they will eventually lead.

Back in the day when I was a young, loving child, I would look up into the eyes of the adults around me (at times beseechingly) searching for their guidance and love... We all know just like my siblings and I some children are not born into normal family environments... where love is unconditional and given freely along with that magical gift which carries no price tag for the child, because... it’s usually given warmly by a person with a heart full of joy. They grasp completely the very thought...this child is theirs, they hold securely the responsibility for that child’s well being and it’s always paramount to them. The fact is they understand what it means to have and hold a child... keeping it safe, loved and protected for as long as it takes this further spurns on the development of the process between child and carer.

It was my misfortune to be born into a family completely dysfunctional. There were a lot of issues around substance abuse, poverty and a complete lack of parenting skills. The knock on affect this has on the family, eventually becomes intolerable. The adults (our parents) were young, selfish and probably if stock were to be taken of their own childhood, then it might be found they too suffered at the hands of their own parents in similar circumstances to the ones they inflicted on their own offspring.... I’m glad to say that’s where it all ended because; my siblings and I brought our own children up in a normal correct and loving manner. Speaking for myself, I found I was extra sensitive to the protectiveness of my own child to the point where as a baby I never left her then when she was a young adult and she wanted to feel grown up I would give her that little bit of space they so often need but actually, I use to follow her to ensure she was always safe.... Even now I ring and text every day... I’m in constant touch, she is everything to me and more.... the very thought of anything happening to her or someone hurting her fills me with a fear that goes deep, at times it coldly penetrates the very core to my heart, when that happens it grabs my soul on the way in.

During her childhood she was and continues to be amazing. Back then she developed the capacity of stilling my fears....soothing my worries and allaying my concerns, for that I will always be grateful. At the start of my own healing journey my girl’s attitude and sensitivity helped me enormously and as you all know that healing journey continues to this day..... When you've lived through trauma, neglect, misplaced love, abuse at all levels and the insult of separation from family members... is it any wonder one needs to heal.

When I was that tiny teeny tiddlywink... being the eldest, I managed to take on an unrealistic role... it included keeping my baby siblings safe. Obviously I was too little to do that, but from all accounts it didn’t stop me from trying.... and my title in care is well documented... I was called the ‘little mother’.... In my own eyes though my failure of that role instilled in me, a feeling of total and utter consternation that they were hurting... whilst living with our biological parent they were my responsibility, I took care of them... but in care, I felt I had let them down despite being totally happy myself that we were in care and being looked after properly... I loved it... I never, never, ever, ever wanted to leave.

Subsequently in my teens I felt an absolute need to distance myself from my brothers and sister... I discovered it was mentally the only time I felt spiritual peace.... Sadly to this day for some family members that has given them a double whammy because, not only did the adults in their lives let them down, so did their big sister...

In my opinion the best we can accomplish in this wonderful life, is to never knowingly hurt anybody, follow our instincts and as long as we do our best and what feels right, then we cannot be expected to do anymore.... If I’ve suffered sleepless nights it’s not because of what I’ve done, it’s because of what I wish I’d been more capable of doing...

I know this beautiful thought... I’ve grown... it’s been a long and winding road, I know I like me, I like who I am and who I’ve become. In growing I've reached the shiny bright conclusion life is so very special.

This is not a dress rehearsal. We have to make the most of this brilliant time we have and make it sparkle more.... spoil the ones we love, never go to bed on an argument, communicate at all costs and never forget to tell people how you really feel because one day you or they won’t be here to chat or reassure ... Communication is the key!

My lovely family, all of them deliciously unique and wonderful in every way, they deserved a good, happy upbringing. Sadly that didn’t happen... A positive point here is this.... despite everything we've all become fine upstanding citizens and I know we all love our families and friends with a passion... So looking at it from that perspective; it’s not turned out so bad after all.

I know and understand completely this form of communication is not for everyone. For a long time and for one reason or another, I was not allowed or encouraged to talk openly... sadly I let others control me but I say this with no hard feelings just a genuine warmth... I have always enjoyed sharing thoughts, ideas, worries, opinions, views and beliefs. I particularly love being positive but I'll hastily add, not to the point where I have to exclude all the other stuff I'm sharing... all of it for me is crucial so very necessary to walk on the road I want to remain on. Hopefully, I will continue to embrace the life I’m living and carry on loving the life I lead. It’s made all the better by the beautiful people I have met and enhanced by the people who remain by my side... Those qualities are inside all of us... You know don’t you my friend; there isn’t anything we can’t do...

Hugs wrapped up in kisses from the Angel within...... :)

Wounds, Scars, Pain, Tears & Feelings ...

Part 2................

Luckily for me your friend walked past, picked me up, took me into her home; she cleaned me up and told me how disgusted she was with you. I went quiet ... I didn’t want to talk to anybody... At 15 it had been clearly confirmed my mother for whatever reason hated me....
My plan was immature but it was a plan... I wanted to hurt you....I was going to let you see what it felt like to be hurt. Over the next few days I made arrangements with my social worker to allow me to get a flat. I promised him I could secure a job, this I did with determination... I got the job, promises were kept and I took a bed-sit right on the top floor of an ancient Victorian house on Brentwood, just across the road from you... my plan was nearer ... I didn’t talk to you again, I knew you came over to see your friend. Your friend told you I had a little bed-sit upstairs, a bit of a walk through but I knew when the time was right you would come up and the scene would be set...

Do you remember the walk up those steps M?

It’s silly but even now I can giggle at the thought of it. I just think if that was the worst thing I could do to you, then I know I wasn’t a bad girl!
I had asked your friend to send you up... I knew the keys would be in my door, the door was slightly ajar... just enough for you to hear me and the guy and yeah he was as disgusted with you as I was so the moment for me personally was really was bitter-Sweet ... what did it feel like? I know it upset you because I was told.... and you know what I laughed..... I wanted that to be your last memory of me. Job complete I left Brentwood and you forever.

I know what it feels like for a little girl to hear her mother at it with what seemed like all the men in the world.... I recalled later being told you were and had been a prostitute. This explained to me all the times I heard and saw you with men.... You worked as a barmaid, I suppose it was another way of supplementing your wage but I don’t recall being fed properly??? I remember a guy in May street calling, he knocked on the door, you went out with him... I followed both of you... he took you in to the back of his van, I went up to the van and I listened, I heard you and the van was rocking...

Then there was the time I was walking past the entry behind May Street ... you were up there with a guy he had you up against the wall, you shouted at me to get away and again I was terrified... I was 7ish....

The worst time though was when I was approximately 5-6yrs old; we lived on Whit lane... I was or should I say we were, home alone... that happened on a regular basis, not sure how you got away with it for so long.....you came in late one night, I was poorly lying on two chairs in front of the fire in the back room. You pulled out the sofa bed, he says “What about the kid?” you pull him onto the bed and both of you do the deed in front of me... my eyes are squeezed tight shut because I’m afraid he’s hurting you .... Do you know what that’s like M?... a little girl so afraid she can hardly breath, she can’t open her eyes, she just stuffs her fingers in her ears and stays like that till its over.

Here’s another memory for you to think about....... The woman with the daughters... J and H... They lived just off W lane. Can you remember my age? 5-6-7yrs... Well they abused me all three of them, sexually, physically and emotionally; the mother was an evil witch just like her daughters. When she was alone with me (which was often) I was terrified, to this very day I am ultra sensitive to loud or sudden noises. There were others, so many dodgy, dubious people you regularly allowed into our lives; you didn’t protect us.... not ever.... Being the eldest I got it.

Because of the past I am the person I have become today... I feel so lucky... Not just because of what and whom I am but thank god I managed to survive and because of my knowledge and the knowledge I have attained over the years I know I survived you because I was a resilient child.

I won’t ever understand you; believe me I have tried.... I have a very strong sense of fair play M I know genuinely you didn’t ever help or protect us.... I have so many things to tell you, so many things I know you’re possibly not aware of; let me see what my file said..... “Your mother is an immature girl, who puts her own needs first, she has been ordered by the courts to attend parenting classes to enable her to facilitate her children’s basic needs”.... Well you and I know the outcome of that particular order, hence the reason we stayed in care so long.... Then after a long time you were allowed to have us home... I didn’t want to come home; I didn’t want to live with you.

Did you know at the bridge on Oldfield road going to Sacred Heart School I use to be physically sick every morning, because for the day I was leaving one hell hole to survive in another. I was bullied relentlessly. There was a particular group of kids who would kick and punch me as I walked past and if they saw me they would all walk towards me isolating me so that they could carry out further torture and then they would spit on me.... I was convinced they were going to kill me.... Nobody wanted to sit next to me, they would laugh so hard while inside I was dying.... It seems there were many reasons for this, I wasn’t dressed right, I wasn’t clean and I didn’t smell right. Well we know you weren’t the cleanest person in the world... our hygiene was questionable because if we weren’t washed nor have clean clothes then our basic needs as children were not being met by our mother..... Have you any idea of the hell we must have all gone through. I wanted to go back into care, I didn’t have to wait long. I thanked god when we did....

I‘m aware after reading the letter, all of this must be really hitting some nerves especially at this time in your life, but can you see now why it’s important for me that you to finally see what you did and how it made us feel......

About dad’s funeral, I have heard it say M you did not understand my relationship with my dad and his family...... let me tell you this, dad apologised to me for everything. He wrote me a long letter about the past, about how much he loved me.... the important thing for me was his apology but despite this I don’t think I really truly forgave him until he died. Now there is never a time when I don’t regret him not being here and I wish with all my heart I could have one last conversation with him....

Let me talk to you about P.... I am worried and completely convinced one day probably sooner rather than later I will get a phone call telling me he is gravely ill.... or worse still that he is dead. (Sorry Bro because I know you’re reading this) I have tried on more than one occasion to talk to him about his alcoholism but he is in denial and won’t admit to the problem. As we both know if he doesn’t admit there’s a problem then he won’t seek help..... I know he has already had a kidney washout.... I get a sense our P's life is not how he envisaged it would be, he has had no life.... for many reasons especially now because of his present difficulties and I’m not just talking about alcohol.... My heart goes out to him because I know my own memories are wonderful of him has a little boy. He was gorgeous with a heart of gold.... My memories of him as a man are sad, the reason for this... I deeply feel his overwhelming sadness. But still he is very much part of all our lives and despite his difficulties he's loved. He has a golden heart and would do anything for anybody except unfortunately himself....

M, you have missed out on so much.... as a mother, I can’t even begin to imagine the depth of your feelings around any possible heartache over lost children. I am aware of your relationship with P, C and H and although they wouldn’t admit it.... I know why they see you on Birthdays, Christmas etc so do yourself a favour and don’t be under the illusion you’re a cherished grandmother....

I hope you haven’t found this too painful, for that is not my intention. What’s happened has happened, what’s done is done; it doesn’t mean I agree with your decisions... it just means I have grown beyond the mistakes the adults made when I was a child.... I neither forgive nor condone your actions as my mother... I’m simply saying, I wish it could have been different, I wish you would have protected us and I wish more than anything with all my heart we could all have belonged to a normal family unit... but then I suppose one could say... I might not have become the person I am today....

I would want you to take this rather long letter in the spirit it’s been sent. I hope you will finally be able to understand your oldest daughters true spirit.... spiritually this gives me closure; I sincerely hope it does the same for you.

Jane

Wounds, Scars, Pain, Tears & Feelings...

If you've read the above and some of the words scream out to you striking a relevant cord, then you will understand despite me being somewhat delayed this week, at last here are my next set of thoughts....

With these thoughts I've had to travel back to July/August 2009 where I wrote and published a very special and profound letter to my biological mother. For those of you who really know me you will know I was dismayed when I discovered my words had offended a sibling... I immediately removed the letter, which allowed me to tentatively restructure and re-edit the whole piece, being extremely careful not to lose the raw sense of my feelings. For me it was important to allow the reader to feel as much of the atmosphere of the memory I had previously tried to share... Whilst trying to portray constructively and without malice my own meagre memories to a biological mother that I instinctively knew didn’t care. Despite this... at the same time, I tried very hard to touch her mentally in a tender spot that might evoke a feeling of responsibility on her part, as the mother of those precious children she so willingly gave up..... So, I gently re-submit my Letter which means so much to me... You wont be surprised to hear I later learned unfortunately, it meant very little to its recipient... never the less, the letter did a great deal for me spiritually; I was able to practice what I so very often preach... I was able to breathe deeply and once and for all I gladly let go.... As before I will submit Part One of the letter first then Part Two will follow later......

M,
So much water has rushed underneath my bridge, I’m sure the very same can be said for you! Let’s start at my beginning..... My name is Mary Jane but everybody calls me Jane, I'm your daughter! I have ended up doing a job in life that reflects my past.

I write to you for many reasons. I want you to be very clear (this is important) as to why I have decided to communicate. I don’t want anything.... I'm not writing to open any doors or set up any meetings or even to get close physically.... No! I write to you to share some thoughts and to tell you about something’s I would like you to know and in doing so; I know this will allow you in on those thoughts and feelings from so long ago. For whatever reason and before it’s too late it feels really important to me, that you know what I personally went through in my mind, body and soul..... I hear you wondering... why now?

I think you will understand the tick-tock of the glorious clock has something significant to do with it... It’s also vital you understand this is not a letter of blame, or even accusation although I'm sure at times you may feel it is... We are older now, we know who should take the full responsibility of blame for the past.... what I can tell you is this.... blame, fault and anger left me a long time ago.... it had to, holding on to all that stuff would only have damaged me further.
However some things did mark me, those unfortunate experiences will never leave and to be honest I have simply got use to living with what I went through.

I’m hoping you have a better understanding after you eventually digest all the contents of this letter... if you’re able to. I'm only too well aware; some people just don’t possess that skill. I sincerely hope you do, it’s important to me that you understand completely the reasons why I felt it necessary to write such a difficult correspondence, especially after all these years. I’m hoping it doesn’t fall on deaf ears or a dead heart.

My main regret... you and I never had a proper mother, daughter relationship... we never knew one another... and we never will.... I have often reflected on that sad thought. Having my own beautiful girl has made me more aware of what you and I have missed and it’s so very sad that we have never been able to explore something that should have been so wonderful.

I discussed with a friend recently something in connection with the above. It dawned on me; I have no nice memories of you. I know once you plough through this, you will be totally surprised and possibly horrified at what memory’s I do recall. To be honest there not very nice.... most of them came back has I was growing up, like flashbacks. There is one though... well I think it’s probably more a fantasy, but it’s the only nice memory so I will share it with you... I’m about 6years old; I’m combing your hair... I feel all this love inside my heart for you but then you turn around and I see your face, it’s all screwed up in a grimace, shouting and swearing at me like you hate me with the whole of your being. Like I said this is a flashback and the nicest memory I have of you. I have always found it hard to believe I haven’t retained a memory of a tender moment, a touch, a kiss, an ‘I love you’ ... over the years this has filled me with sadness.

I even wondered whether, I actually belonged to you because if you knew the woman I had become you would quickly see there is no resemblance between you and I. I’m also wondering if deep down you knew what it was like for your offspring to be consistently “in the company of strangers” The following passage sounds as if I’m angry... I promise I’m not, although you will surely understand, back then, I was! It took some time for me to heal.

These are questions but I don’t require answers..... Do you know what sort of life you cast us into? Do you know how unloved and bad we felt by your persistent rejection? Your constant lies about you building a house, for us all too live in.....Have you any idea how horrific your beatings felt? I don’t think even you could have understood the way you treated your children ... It was like we were animals just here to do your bidding.... Always screaming and shouting at us....

This brings me to the final beating you gave me... I was 15yrs old. Let me remind you of the scene... It’s very late. I’m asleep on your two seated sofa. I’m woken up by your boyfriend.

Would you like to know what he was doing?

He was sucking my fingers... Terrified and panic stricken I almost vomited....
Instinct & fear made me call out desperately for you ... after all you were my mum and in the same room even if it was behind a partition. I called out to you as he was attempting to climb on top of me –

‘Mum, mum’.... The words you threw back at me that night through the awful partition won’t ever leave me; I have tried to eradicate them from my brain but No... They just won’t go...

“SHUT-UP” you said.... “Shut-up”

For me, that was a pivotal moment, I realised beyond a shadow of a doubt I was and always had been on my own. In one split second I jumped off the sofa away to a big monstrous overstuffed armchair, nestled snugly in the bay-window, it did the trick, he couldn’t reach me. Eventually heart thumping I fell into a fit full sleep... Do you recall what happened the next morning? .... You grabbed me by the hair and pulled me out from behind the chair, calling me all the names under the sun you were screaming at me whilst I in shock didn’t understand. I didn’t know what I’d done.... you proceeded to hit, slap, punch and kick me despite neighbours attempts to get you to stop... Like a deranged animal you opened the front door In Brentwood and kicked me down the numerous amounts of cold stone steps. I didn’t understand at the time but I’m older now, I know you were jealous... it couldn’t have been anything else.....

Sitting there alone, I cried bitterly. You slammed the door so hard I thought the glass would break. I sat there for a long time; confused, I didn’t know what to do or where to go..... I stopped crying... I pushed myself up against the cold stone wall all the time imagining getting you back for your intolerable cruelty... My heart hardened whilst a plan formulated ... it bubbled... It festered.

To be continued.....