A more personal deadline

Some of my broken dreams are still reachable, I haven’t given up yet.  But the previous post was a post of preparation to the world.  That if things in my life haven’t changed by April, I don’t think I would hold back with the dark thoughts anymore.  April is my personal deadline for change.

If things haven’t changed, then I need to start again.  New life entirely and that’s not good for those who care about me.  That won’t be good at all.

Today I have struggled with depression more than anything and today I am just trying to let you know that I may cocoon in April to mull things over, but it may not be long before you start reading my obituary, as I have the attitude of what is the point… I haven’t got anything to live for – I am not allowed to be a full active mother with my son, so he isn’t giving me a reason to live.  Because I have no personal time with him, we can’t bond – we used to, but then I got sick and certain other people took over and got in the way and made me feel unneeded.  That’s easily happens to people like me who like to stay unassuming, passive and go with the flow – don’t want any trouble and a people pleaser, because for the love of all that is good all I want is a peaceful life.

It’s people like me who don’t get their dreams because they don’t want to rock the boat, it’s why I’ve always chose to have relationships with people who will motivate me and rock the boat for me and make me take what I want.  Without that kind of support I just sit back and watch life go by, it’s who I am.

I hate disappointing and upsetting people I love, so I tend to go for the people who push me even if that means they are the manipulative sort – at least they give me a reason to live.  Apathetic and unambitious people are dangerous for people like me.

I can’t thrive living where I am but that was OK when I knew I was wanted – I am not wanted anymore, even though Paul thinks his new relationship is strange and perhaps not so genuine because he thinks his new lady is losing interest.

I know that Paul’s behaviour with me has changed dramatically, he has become unlikeable.

I am struggling with not only depression and suicide, but my bulimia and anorexia seems to be creeping back again too – but it’s odd, because this time, whenever I eat, it’s painful and that’s why I can’t eat more than six bites a meal these days.  I don’t know if it is my normal psychological problems with food or whether it’s a physical problem – but its worrying Paul as well. 

I say I am dieting, but it’s not a proper diet.  I am barely getting 900 calories on a good day and the main bulk of my diet comes from protein shakes just to get enough protein and calories into my system.

It’s so cold in the house now, we’re struggling with the “Heat or Eat” crisis here in the UK as one of the poorest families in the area, eligible for a lot of charitable help, but not with heating and the food banks are running low because of how many more needy people are in the area – we’re being drowned out by new people.

Paul isn’t like me; he won’t sell things to survive and I can’t make him go to the post office to send things away when he doesn’t want to do that.  I can’t do it myself, as I have said before, I haven’t got any money for myself outside my weekly £20 and he won’t let me do anything with that money unless it’s pleasurable for myself in some way.

The cold affects my arthritis badly; I am finding it hard to exercise because of it.  Instead I’ve gone back to bed again in the past three days just to keep warm with hot water bottles around me.  It’s not a healthy life here.

Is there any wonder then, that when I go to sleep my last thoughts are one of two things – snuggling with Mr Right the dream guy and pretending I am not in this environment all alone, extra realistic nowadays since I got a body length hot water bottle to go next to me at night… or the alternative… Let’s try and never wake up again eh?

So I am giving the universe till April to make a huge change for me, after that, let’s see if I am brave enough to make the cuts deeper because I don’t have access to the pills anymore…

But hey, look on the bright side – at least you won’t have to worry about this sad bitch anymore, huh? No more silly posts about dreams that will never come true, but you have to wait until April to see them stop!

Until then…

Thanks for reading…?

By the lions tooth

Set the lion free my dear

Let him lead the way

Let him lead the people

Let him help the strayed

Do not hold the lion down

Do not change his mind

He needs his freedom to set in place

A sanctuary for the end of time

The lion is our key to hope

Do not hold him back

Do not let the devil win

Don’t let the lion slack

The spirit of Michael harnesses the lion so

Because the lion is strong enough to stop the devil’s show

But the lion thinks he is not the one

He thinks he is the fallen son

But we the ravens know the truth

The devil is destroyed by the lions tooth

Who is Catalina?

DISCLAIMER – EXTREME TRUE LIFE BODY HORROR MEMORIES

There are things I thought I have shared on my blog, only for me to find that I can’t find where they are when I want to refer back to them; what I have done is, lost the confidence to post some things and put them on a private journal on another site, like blogger; where only invited people can see what is there, because sometimes I am ashamed of my past.

Even the things that I should be shameless about because those things weren’t my fault, I feel I should hide them because it is too graphic for my audience.

But I have to write those things sometimes, as a form of therapy to myself – also as I write things down it is easier for me to zone out and just read out loud for Paul to know things about my past, without me feeling too attached.  Because I can zone out and read something out loud, it’s a weird skill I have developed over the years to protect myself from hurting again.

I don’t think anyone can understand how that works, I know I don’t.

One of those things for example is an explanation about who Catalina is to me.

I thought I had shared this here, but apparently not – or at least I can’t find the post using the keywords I was trying to find in order to reference for you who she is.

So, this is why this post exists – to tell you who she is to me.

This is why I have to state right now DISCLAIMER – THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE LIGHT-HEARTED.

One of my exes put me on birth control against my will so that he could have unprotected sex with me whenever he liked, he made me have the Depo-Provera injection – however, my mother didn’t trust me when I told her that I am on Depo-Provera and so she too, forced me back to another clinic for the mini pill and another injection on top.

I told the doctor at the clinic mum doesn’t believe how I got that bruise and the doctor said that if I had a double dose so quickly like this as well as have the mini pill, I could permanently damage my fertility in the future – mum was eager to make me do it and forced the doctor to agree too.

So I had it done again.

My ex, who I will name G here, was happy to do as he pleased even though I was suffering really badly for a month with a very bruised back.

He and I were confident there would be no unwanted babies coming our way, for him anyway.

Unfortunately for G and my mum I am one of the 4% that seem to be able to get pregnant on contraception whether it is in double doses or not.

Believe me when I tell you, I freaked out by this as both homes would have kicked me out if they knew I was pregnant!  But I love babies and I could never abort, personally.

So I continued in our relationship, hoping he’d grow to like the idea, but instead he thought I lied to him, because he worked in the medical profession and in his eyes this was impossible!

He was already domestically violent to me before this happened, but after I told him about the pregnancy test and showed him the evidence of it, he got more violent with me.  He completely denied the fact that the test was genuine and wouldn’t acknowledge or talk about it with me.

I started to suffer during my pregnancy and I wouldn’t tell my mum I was pregnant at all, because it would have been a mixed race baby and she told me at the time that she’d beat me up and kick me out and burn all my stuff in her house if she thought for one minute I would be pregnant with a Peruvian Indians baby.

I couldn’t get medical assistance to see how the pregnancy faired in London with mum, when G sent me back to my mother for weekends and the occasional week and I couldn’t go to a doctor in Wickford, Essex because G wouldn’t let me sign up in the area.

I started to lose a lot of weight because of extreme morning sickness and I started to get really bad bleedings and I felt I needed a doctor ASAP, so I begged G to get me to a hospital as I was getting really ill – all he could think about was how horny he was right then and wanted to have me immediately, no matter how I felt.

So frustrated he beat and raped me, this made the bleeding worse and he went for a shower humiliating me about how the bleeding was on him and how I need to get cleaned up.

When he got out the shower the bleeding got a little worse and I started to get a lot of pain and I told him, I believe I am about 5 months pregnant according to the dates and the size I am.  This made him furious and he told me he will show me how much he believes I am pregnant and full on punched me right in the stomach and stormed out of the house, telling me to sort myself out and get the idea of a baby out of my head!

The bleeding got worse right before his eyes and I said, I need an ambulance!  He just turned on his heel and left me there, with no phone.  He took our only phone and we lived in a dense rural place.

I bled hugely in the bathroom and had to cope on my own, I struggle to this day seeing pictures of foetuses and premature babies because of what I saw that night.  She was almost perfect and weirdly transparent.

When he came home in the morning I was still in the bathroom on the floor unable to do much because I was distressed about the dead baby, he forced me to flush her down the toilet and said she’s just a clot, but I knew she wasn’t.

He then threw bleach and towels at me and told me I had to clean the mess up whilst he went to bed.

Her birthday would have been the 7^th of November had it have been a normal pregnancy to full term.  This day has always been a day of remembrance for her.  What makes it hard for me is that nobody acknowledges miscarriages as child loss.

She was definitely a girl, at 23 weeks, she could have potentially lived as a premature baby had I of had the proper care, there is a 50/50 chance at that stage.  She might have been disabled, but she would have potentially lived.

So, I named her Catalina, because I couldn’t live with myself without acknowledging her life and giving her a name and I knew I would have honoured G’s family with naming her after her aunt, the one who raised G.

So every year, on November 7^th I light a candle in remembrance of her, because it is what my catholic family would do.  My aunts Catherine and Christine would understand this about me – but not many other people understand it.

She’d have been 19yrs old this year, probably going to college now or working full-time, I expect she’d have been short and a little stocky, as her dad was 5ft 6 and chubby and I have weight issues too.  She’d be half Latino with an Islamic great grandparent by all accounts, with all of my ancestral mixes rolled into one.  She’d have been quite a diverse little lady.

Henry once asked me about the candle on November 7^th and was hurt when I wouldn’t tell him once, but it happened so regularly, that when Henry was 8yrs old, I finally told him about her.  He too, lights a candle and even bakes a cake every year for the family on this day, to remember the big sister he never knew!

I am unsurprised if people don’t believe me – because it’s very rare to get pregnant when you’ve had contraception, let alone double doses, but a lot of people struggle to believe me, because of the violence and the lack of care around it too, nobody can believe in evil people.

Because I couldn’t seek any medical attention whatsoever about this, I had no after care.  I bled non-stop and heavily for several months, my mum knew about the bleeding and took me to the doctor – but she never knew the cause.  When the doctor examined me, they blurted out how I’ve had a miscarriage, but I said, that’s impossible – mum you tell him.  Because she was in the room and I was terrified about her finding out. 

Mum told him, he is a useless doctor, I felt bad for him – but I had to keep it quiet.

He diagnosed menorrhagia.

I hate lying, but I just had to.

What is terrible is that this caused a lot of long term mental damage, not only because of what happened to me – but because my mum forced me to watch a pro-abortion documentary to sway me into the mind-set of accepting abortion at any stage the woman wants it.  Unfortunately the documentary she chose was a pro-life documentary, documenting what exactly happens during abortion and the scenes were uncut and horrifying.

Not something I needed to see after what happened to me!

My mum was disgusted about it and she was the one who became swayed to a new way of thinking!

I believe anyone should be able to do anything to their bodies – don’t get me wrong.  But I find it hard to accept abortion on a personal level.

Sorry about such a graphic post.  But I needed to explain who Catalina was and how big an event this was for me and how it has affected my life forever.

Thank you for reading!

Lost Lion

The raven sees the Lion

The lion doesn’t know

The lion slowly roams

Which place does he go?

The raven knows his destiny

The raven knows the way

But the lion doesn’t see her

Maybe he will some day?

God had put him on this path

But he is in denial

Stricken by his heart of morals

Scared he’ll be put on trial

So cautiously he takes his steps, deeper into the sands

Hoping that somehow things will become clear to him

A miracle in his hands

The raven tries her best to tell, to shout – I know the way

But her voice is drowned out by his fears

As he tearfully prays

So many signs she have given him

To show him the path is near

But slowly he wanders off too far

So that he doesn’t hear

Too many times the raven caws

Too many times unheard

Too many times the lion has walked too far from the bird

God has told her have patience dear

Let him find the way

Soon things to him will be all too clear

Right now the fogs too grey

But the raven sits in worry

That maybe he’ll roam too far

That maybe he will become lost

Just like the fallen star

But God said that he will be fine

All he needs is a rhyme

A rhyme to find the way

So the little raven sits on her perch and sings the rhyme today

Will he hear her, I don’t know

But we sit and watch and wait

Because nobody is like the lion

The lion is strong and great

The lion has a purpose

And it is not safe to tell

But all you need to know is

The lion frees us from Hell!

Catalina (Kitty)

Though I never knew you, I light a candle for your name

I have never met you, but I bring your life some fame

I talk about how short you lived

I’ve shared my tale to all

You will be remembered by me

Right now you would be tall

You are nineteen happy birthday

Though you were never born

I will love you forever

And forever I shall mourn

An explanation will be posted in the morning, because of the graphic content of the explanation. Sorry guys!