fuck the water blaster

Renovation twat is at it again. Arggh. This time he’s waster blasting …

  • just so you know
  • its the noise
  • the constant noise that doesn’t fucken let up
  • it’s loud
  • it’s uncomfortable
  • why?
  • because it grates my nerves
  • because i can’t hear whats happening
  • for those with ‘spacial’, peripheral and hardwired reactory issues
  • like pts(d)
  • hearing is everything
  • and when you can’t hear shit over a fucken water blaster
  • it messes with the feng shui
  • thinking about cutting his power outlet
  • or maybe a slug gun pellet to the water blaster itself
  • unfortunately, he’d still come back … tomorrow
  • so
  • instead
  • head phones and music that’ll stifle that noise out
  • lock my doors
  • cleaning?
  • nah, bit of extra blogging i feel

Fuck water blasters and water blasting cunts …

Video

I am Not yo’ Nee-gro … no, sir, I aint ;)

Know Your Baldwin …

I love the Response Process … Solid!

From YouTube:

Published on Mar 13, 2017

Janelle MonΓ‘e, Samuel L. Jackson, Chris Rock, Lupita Nyong’o and these other celebrities want you to know that they’re not your negro β€” and that you should know your James Baldwin.

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Video

oh the response ;)

I don’t particularly like the song itself … but the video … now that brought Me all sorts of joy πŸ˜‰

It’s the responding … from approx 2.20 onwards.

It’s doing all the shit you want too … just cos you got a rage burning inside yah!

Enjoy πŸ™‚

Hold Up ~ Beyonce, 2016

Image

I did it … I did it …

Feeling bit like Dora the bloody Explorer … except for the ‘We’ did it part, is ‘I’ did it!

Here goes … bullet points again, cos I’m tired, but ecstatic, but tired – and bullet points just work beautifully for Me πŸ˜‰

  • I decided I’d go to my appointment with the psychologist today.
  • I decided I’d do the blood test.
  • I was ready, with all my bits and pieces.
  • I got up early.
  • Got my shit together early.
  • Actually enjoyed that process.
  • I sat in the front seat πŸ˜‰
  • We got to town early.
  • We went through who knows how many sets of lights.
  • I didn’t freak out!
  • I gathered all necessary bits to deal with blood taking.
  • I made sure I pee’d before blood being drawn!
  • Live and learn.
  • I asked for the small needle.
  • I told the nurse I was nervous.
  • I requested the partner come in with Me.
  • I told him to be quiet.
  • He wasn’t being helpful.
  • He looked hurt.
  • But he survived.
  • And I survived!

post jab!

  • That sorted.
  • I filled up the anxiety and oozy feeling with these:

sweet crunchy nectar of the gods!

  • We made our way to my daughters job.
  • I was excited πŸ™‚
  • The traffic lights freaked Me once …
  • And I breathed!
  • And I survived.
  • At the cafe, it was way more packed than expected.
  • I had a momentary wave of …. F U C K, and then I spotted my girl πŸ™‚

my beautiful girl ❀

  • And all was alright with the world πŸ™‚
  • I was so proud of her.
  • And proud of Me for being there.
  • Some parents want their kids to be lawyers or doctors or politicians … but I want my kids to follow their dreams and be happy in their worlds.
  • See that smile?
  • I had a Mummy moment and almost cried πŸ˜‰
  • She made Me the best coffee Ever!

best caffe mocha Ever πŸ˜‰

  • We stayed for over an hour … Yuss!!
  • I so miss going to cafes!
  • I even talked to a stranger!
  • There was a surprise ‘encounter’ with the MIL!
  • A wave of anxiety.
  • Then back to myself.
  • She was her usual.
  • She took offence to most of what I said.
  • I didn’t care πŸ™‚
  • I continued to enjoy my coffee!! Yuss!
  • Then it was on to the psychologist.
  • I had my list.
  • We went through my list.
  • I can go see her again regularly.
  • We’ll do more EMDR.
  • And try a few other nifty things she has at her disposal re driving and lessening anxiety.
  • I decided to wait till after the next assessment to start this.
  • She’s good with that.
  • The partner arrived late to pick Me up.
  • This would usually freak my shit out.
  • I played my music and sang instead πŸ™‚
  • He came.
  • And I was alright!
  • I survived.
  • He survived!

we survived πŸ˜‰

  • On to picking up the airport twat.
  • I had ear muffs packed.
  • I didn’t need them!
  • She was offended that I didn’t want to sit in the front seat with her in the car.
  • She was offended that I wouldn’t tell her why.
  • I didn’t care πŸ™‚
  • And I was alright!
  • And so was She!
  • And so was the partner πŸ˜‰
  • And we left … we went through multiple traffic lights, with multiple stops and multiple noises.
  • And guess what?
  • Yes … I survived!!
  • And I actually enjoyed most of it!
  • And I am so fucking proud of Myself right now!!

reality check of sorts

After this mornings panic fuck, it took most of the day to recover … thanks to the cunts next door who are still renovating, the vibrating of the house meant that the ‘calming’ process was made harder … but I shouldn’t blame them I suppose … but who cares right? They’ll never know … so I’ll blame them πŸ˜‰

So its 1230 and I’m fucked. And now I’ve got some more decisions to make .. and because I can’t quite get a coherent thought together, I’m gonna bullet point this bitch – so I can get it all out and hopefully make some sense of it all …

And We can call it a poem – just so it seems a little flasher than what it really is …

Righteo.

  • I didn’t take a sedative today.
  • I lived through the panic.
  • I survived the phone call.
  • I didn’t suffocate whilst dripping snot and tears.
  • Bonus.
  • I’m on 1/4 antihistamine now.
  • I’m itchy as a mofo.
  • I know it’ll pass.
  • I’ve got an appointment with the psychologist on Wednesday.
  • Turns out the partner is supposed to take some twat to the airport.
  • It’ll work out he reckons.
  • I don’t do ‘it’ll work out’ as an outcome.
  • Wednesday is payday.
  • Paydays are fucked days.
  • The day before payday is a fucked day.
  • Oh, its not My payday.
  • I feel vulnerable.
  • I feel like a child.
  • I feel like I’m at the whim of someone elses emotions.
  • And I don’t like it.
  • Do I cancel the appointment.
  • Post pone the appointment maybe.
  • Is that weak.
  • Or smart.
  • Cos I know how that day is gonna pan out.
  • And it won’t be pretty.
  • For Me.
  • Unless of course I take a sedative.
  • And then I aint gonna remember much of the day anyway.
  • If I go, I need to get blood taken as well.
  • I wanted it to be a calm day.
  • Had made time to have coffee with my daughter.
  • She’s a newly trained barista.
  • Yum.
  • Then my appointment.
  • Then home.
  • Whilst ignoring the partners mood.
  • I can do that.
  • But new shit thrown in there.
  • Ahhhh.
  • The airport twat would come home with us first.
  • Which means I’d hear her talking for 40 minutes.
  • Not sure that I can do that.
  • Well I can.
  • But it wouldn’t be pretty.
  • For her. Or the partner.
  • I don’t care about that really.
  • So maybe thats the option.
  • Roll with the cluster fuck.
  • Drop a sedative or 2 if need be.
  • Make sure I have a humungous coffee.
  • Oh, and ear muffs.

actu-ally

use to think

that

to look outside

yo’self

was a character-

istic

that was

expo-

nentially

held by mamas,

plural –

universal.

but it aint.

in fact

inten-

sive

research

has led me

to believe,

that instead

of this character-

istic

being pretty common;

it is actu-

ally

not held by manys.

cos manys are

actu-

ally

pretty self-absorbed

self-fish

cunts.

fullstop.

it goes like this …

The day started off pretty good … ‘normal’, for Me.

I got my shizz ready to go to the shop … yes, it’s still a struggle, but I’m trying …

I get outside and half way down the road and my phone rings. The phone call I’ve been waiting for from the ACC cunts is coming through. Now? Of course Now … Why? Because I’m Me, that’s Why.

Decision time: To take the call whilst trying to walk to the shop; trying to maintain my shizz – the lights, the noises … trying to calm my freaking farm … Choosing to take the call that I’ve been waiting waiting waiting for … OR

Wait … till god knows when, for them to ring back.

Decision made to take the phone call.

Arrgh. And she spirals down from there.

Nearly at the shop and trying to listen to this woman belt on about the next ‘assessment’ process, whilst she keeps calling me ‘sweetie’ and ‘love’ … both condescending ‘you poor mentally injured soul’ terms of reference that peeps love to pull out so they seem all sympathetic and understanding and shit … and the inevitable happens …

Panic Attack.

Do I sit down on the curb side and breathe deep or fluster fuck myself all the way home and deep breath. Option 2 taken and I barely made it in the door.

ACC twat rounded off her conversation and all I gleaned from it was:

‘The next available appointment is around the end of August’ and ‘No amount of money is ever going to compensate what you have been through’ … which is code for; ‘We are going to pay you sweet fuck all because to Us, you really are nothing but a number who we are not really wanting to pay out anything for – so brace yo’self … for sweet fuck all’.

Oh My Fuck.

So, inside my door, the inevitable melt down happened. Tears and snot and trying to catch my breath and getting my hands over my ears …

And the partner goes:

‘You alright’

Not a question Β so much as a statement; intended to get the tears to stop, because they make him most uncomfortable … oh and he has a cold sore which is way way more intense than anything I’m experiencing Pfft …

So as the meltdown continues and I’m trying to wrap my funky little head round myself … it occurs to Me …

I am the strongest person I know.

And like everything else, I’ll deal with this bitch just as heartily as I do everything else. It may not be an elegant process or outcome … but it’ll be a Me outcome.

Oossh and double Oossh,Β Me.

Video

sweet dreams ~ eurythmics

Sweet Dreams ~ Eurythmics, 1983

just some times

Sometimes I look around me

and then think to my little quirky self …

“Just be normal for fucks sakes!

For once in your life,

Try and be fucking normal.”

And then Forest Gumps Mama springs to mind:

“Stupid is as stupid does”.

And I realise that that quote has absolutely

positively

nothing to do with any train of thought

about being normal.

And I realise,

at this point, that

I am well

and truly,

fucked.

And

there aint no normal coming out of the closet any time

in the near, or not so near,

future.

*she rocked though … ol Forests Mama*

father and ACC

So, do you want the good news or the bad news first …

…. dunno why we say that … theres just news really, neither good nor bad … any who …

So?

Ok, bad it is …

Apparently; according to a rather untimely snail mail letter today, from the almighty ACC … I am up for yet another assessment.

Why you ask?

Well, apparently, again, the last assessment was a pre-assessment assessment. Didn’t know they existed did yah … well, apparently, they do!

…. but do you realise how long it took Me to get ready for the last assessment which y’all said was all I needed to do … and do you realise how long it took to get over the last assessment which y’all said was I all I needed to do?

Thats right … fucking ages!

But since I’ve been waiting, like, 5 or so years for that pre-assessment assessment and then another 6 months for those results … only to be told the assessment that I thought was what i was waiting for all this time is actually only the pre-assessment assessment and that assessment is pending … I could be in for another 5 year wait???

No. Of course not … *she says ultra sarcastically so she neither cries or laughs hysterically at the absurdity of the whole fucking thing … cos all this time, she’s still the one sitting on a cool $35 smack-a-roos a week … yes, thats right … the sum total of … *

Ahhhhhh Β  Β  …. deep breaths …. deep breaths …

So, onto the good news …

Sure thing …

I spoke with my father.

He apologised … for not listening; for being a shit father; for not ever ever being around; for going on about shit I don’t give a fuck about; for not listening; for not getting to know Me; for not visiting; for not ever ringing; for not listening; …. for barging his way into my life … full of grief and anxiety … and expecting Me to be my sisters replacement … for taking Me for granted … oh … and for not listening!

He finally told Me about his life … his actual life … he answered my questions … and gave Me real answers. He talked about my sister … who she was to him … what she was like … as a person … as a mother. He finally talked about his regrets and his hopes … his failures and his wins … the real ones.

And he finally, finally, asked Me about Me.

So, there we have it … the ups and the downs … the good and the bad … for today.

Now I can sleep … hopefully … because as much as I thought I had kicked insomnias ass … I haven’t been to sleep before 2.30am and slept more than a few hours, for a couple weeks now … and I’m exhausted.

I’ll be fucked if I know how I survived on 3-4 hours sleep for the past 35+ years … oh, thats right … I didn’t.