todays #feels :

from those of us, mostly just me though lol,  who have been giving a fuck long before y’all decided to give a fuck … the following is long af & full of more fucks than usual, even for me lol …


& yes, it all weaves together if you feel the feels.


PSA : 

i been supporting small businesses that have been supportive of me and my ‘cause’ long before this bs happened .. those that have gone out of their way to get product or service to my door step without me having to explain the grizzly fuckery that is ptsd .. those that are quite willing to go above and beyond. those cunts, i will continue to support.

ive been supporting and finding friendships that dont require me to ‘ohhhhh’ in person, at their new patio furniture, or require that i attend lame ass not really family, ‘family functions’ or support things i dont give a fuck about cos i cant fucking attend them … & those cunts i will continue to support.

i’ve been investing my precious time and money into people, artists & ‘causes’ that fucking matter. & those cunts i will continue to support.

dont come all up in here & announce that i should give a fuck cos i have been giving more fucks for a very fucking long time & more than you could ever know or understand.


& let me drop a few call outs for y’all to ponder on, & no you won’t find the stats on these cos this is the inside out knowledge ..

why dont ‘they’ give a fuck about y’all? .. why cant ‘they’ appreciate or care about everything the world has to offer them??

cos y’all didn’t take care of them.

its that fucking simple.

you cant fuck a generation or 2, quite literally, & expect that they’ll grow up wanting to protect those that didn’t protect them. if they haven’t tapped out already, these are the kids that will rob your house, steal your car, kill your fucking cat for the fuck of it & terrorise you while youre sleeping .. why? cos why the fuck not. 

you want them to give a fuck about crowds & not spreading some sickness they cant see? they dont give a fuck & youre too late too ask them too.

you shoulda taken care of them when you had the opportunity.

but lets not stop there. since y’all got plenty time to ponder .. just know that your 4 piece family doesnt mean shit to them. neither do your do gooder posts, neither does your favourite artichoke or your trip to belize. neither do your theories or conspiracy theories. your 5g global climate change restorative justice seeking ass means nothing. it just means you got shit to take thats all. 

take that as a warning before you post that shit.

youre welcome.

& now theres no more need for y’all to clasp at your pearls & wonder whats wrong with them all .. cos you have been informed.


& no, i dont give af about the crown & their bs institutions. none of it has ever done us any good & this is just another gigantic fuck up to add to the list of fuck ups since they stepped their filthy plague infested toes upon our shores .. stop looking @ them like they gonna save your pastey ass. they’re not. 

find the alternatives & act accordingly.


so, shout outs to those who have ‘self isolated’ by choice / because of long term illness / disability, for years ..  & been referred to by family & ’others’ as hermits, recluses .. ‘alternatives’ .. in the derogatory, long before this shit storm appeared … shout outs to those on HD .. shout outs to those that have managed on the bones of your assess & to those that have figured out how to self manage, on their own, without resources or fucking support.

shout the fuck out to everyone who lost everything to gain everything.

shout outs to those that have been bent all the fucking way over & fucked clean & clear up the asshole, without fucking consent .. to come back with middle finger in the air.

shout outs to those that have always been on the outside, who have built themselves a city & learned how to survive and thrive in it.

dont call us back in now with all your love & light BS .. fuckers. some of us dont forget & will therefore survive.


yep thats it.



kpm ©



apparently i’m unsympathetic.

actually, it’s not apparent, its true. i am unsympathetic. it’s not something i understand. sympathy, as an emotion or action, is not something i’ve mastered.

it’s not the first time i’ve been told this. nearly 47 years old & i’ve been told this most of my life, not realising what that even was @ first & then when i did, wondering what the fuck it even meant.

you see, i believe i am one of the most empathetic people i know.

& thats not a gift. to understand or feel someone elses pain, is a fucking curse.

however, sympathy is not empathy.

sympathy is, imo, a platitude. it’s what gets waved around to make ‘them’ feel better about someone elses display of emotion.

empathy is feeling what another feels.

when asked, i’ve described my ‘story’ or memories. what people give in return is sympathy. i can appreciate the sentiment, but i know full well there is no empathy for my memories, story, how i feel or the results of it & what i deal with daily.

fuck, even i can’t handle how i feel & what i deal with some days.

what i’ve come to realise recently is: my darkness is too dark for most. my reaction to that darkness is too uncomfortable for most, if not for all.

& that is my plight.

to handle my business, heal my body, mind & soul; listen to the pretence & platitude – the anger & bitterness. the words: “we put up with you but we can’t support you”, as more of a piecemeal truth told as a means to an ends.

that yet again, my lack of sympathy or understanding, is not measured in terms of my life understanding, but in terms of what i cannot ‘give’.

that this feels much the same as being spread out on a bed i can’t get off, having shit shoved up my little vagina like i’m some kind of dead doll. that crying brought no sympathy that day. not the pedo cunt & not from the family who cued up @ the door to rescue my little ass. yeah right. sympathy is a nice thought but serves no purpose. what saved me that particular day, was me.


not tears. not sympathy. not pleading.

logic. quick talk. analytics. thats what saved me.

but for today, i won’t die. again. i’ll live through my tears & discomfort.


i’ve lived the worst that humanity can serve up in one dish.

so today, i think of my nan & all the times we misunderstood her. i apologise to her, again, & hope she shines some goodness on my ice cold mother-fucken heart.

kpm ©

i lock the doors.

close the windows.

sob till my insides ache.

find a corner.

a safe corner.

back right up into that bitch.

till i feel





the day that was, is, and thank fuck is nearly over.

A cunt of a day is nearly done and dusted … thank fuck for that!

After my discussion with the shrink last week, this was my first appointment back. And it was productive :) We went over our ‘misunderstanding’ in more depth and I got to hear a bit about her line of work ~ with the kiddy fuckers. She didn’t go into details ~ but explained that her talk of cynicism, that I had taken on board, was actually a reference to her and her line of work. Somewhere between her accent and ‘cultural’ difference, and my heightened anxiety, I had taken on board something that she was referring to, in the first person. She explained it today.

That because of the ‘type’ of person she works with; there is a line where your ‘distaste’ for them, can move into cynicism that means you can’t be effective in the work you do with them. That while a sense of humour between her and her colleagues was necessary, it was a thin line between moving from humour to distaste to cynicism.

I got that; From working in Youth Justice. There was an extremely thin line between ‘helping’ them and disliking them ~ especially when some of their crimes were heinous and they were so young. Sometimes compassion wasn’t enough and humour was necessary – but sometimes, that wasn’t appropriate.

Anyway ~ I got what she was saying. And appreciated her apology. Which was more based on, that she shouldn’t have said anything … I didn’t need anything else to fuel my fire or to process.

So we will be doing more EMDR next session; around the waiting thing … the anticipation of things … that shit does me in!

We finish in July now, and that makes me nervous … so I’m going to have to work on that too.

The ‘cunty’ part of the day was prior to the shrink though. And it did me in for the remainder of the day.

My doctor is hell’a slow. He’s efficient-ish, but slow. And I think I’ve talked about this shit before … but … there is a serious lack of available doctors here, and I’ve tried changing my doctor. But the waiting lists are long (like years long) and the emergency ones are fresh out of doctor college (so I’m not keen!)… and a couple of years ago, all I wanted was my meds, so I have put up with my current doctor…for far too long!

Alongside that, ACC, who assist with my ‘accident’ rehabilitation ~ yes that’s right, Sexual Assault of a Minor, according to them, is an ‘accident’ (but that’s another story!) ~ are also SLOWER THAN A SLOTH when it comes to helpful rehabilitation (of sorts)!

Add these things to a PTSD mix and it’s not a cocktail for holistic health.

And I’ve put up with it for so long, because I didn’t have the stamina to deal with either of these assholes.

But today, I got into the doctors…which is always hard; PTSD hard (travel, smells, lights, people blah blah), and while I have progressed and can handle my shit abit better … it’s still hard. So I get in there, to get my ACC papers that I have been waiting for nearly a month for, and he tells me he can’t do them in that short space of time.

Well, I lost my shit.

‘Why haven’t you done them’ ‘I pay for my appointments, I want my shit done’ ‘If you couldn’t do them, why bring me in?’ ‘You understand how fucking hard it is to get in here ay?’ ‘And how long am I supposed to wait for them now??? Fucks sake’

In amongst all that, the tears and snot started flowing and he was trying to tell me how busy he had been and I’m saying I couldn’t give two fucks … the panic attack set in and i started hyperventilating and he ushers me out of the room into another …

My fuck I was angry!!

I sobbed and snotted and breathed and did that so loudly the nurse next door came in to see if I was alright to which I abruptly said HELL NO.

The partner arrived and the doctor tried to explain to the partner what had happened and he took one look at me and clenched his fists … to his credit, he didn’t deck the doctor; he just got me out. The lady at the front desk apologised profusely as she had been reprimanded … and all the while I’m still sobbing and snotting everywhere.


I was angry at me for not being as capable as I ‘used’ to be … for being a PTSD fuckwit … for feeling weak … I was angry at the doctor for being a slow fucker … an incompetent fucktard who was laying the blame on his slow ass on everyone but himself … I was angry at ACC for requiring so many pieces of paper to be ticked and flicked and signed that a small forest was probably harmed during the making of said paper … and that is just to get a process started! … I was just filthy angry!

And still am.

But what was good, was because I had snotted and sobbed and hyperventilated a shitload before I got back into the car … the panic attack lasted about 10 minutes as opposed to a half hour or so … it reminded me of when I went to the dentist.

Because I had ‘vented’ what was actually going on in me, instead of holding onto it … no matter ‘how’ it came out … I felt a shitload better. Exhausted, but relieved.

What I do about the rest of this is to be decided when I’ve rested and gathered my thoughts properly.

In the meantime … all I know is …

PTSD sucks ass.

Our medical system sucks ass.

Our ACC system sucks ass.

On a way lighter and more pleasant note … we picked up our oldest Moko for a couple of days … and he is just delightful :)

I Love Him.


kpm ©





living it?

The goal is to get to living…


I went back to the dam restaurant…you know, the one I bailed on with a 8 point something on the panic attack Richter scale…yeah, well I went back…And this time I ordered a hu-mungeous coffee…to have in…and I stayed! And I enjoyed my coffee!! And no panic attack…a couple of anxiety ‘flutters’ but that’s it.


I went for a L O N G walk…not a token walk….down this…

my beach

my beach

which was also bloody awesome!


I finally went and got my blood tests done…not so awesome…but I did it! Had a  possible 2.5 panic attack…but lived to tell the tale! And asked for a lollipop for my troubles.


I went to see the shrink…at the shrinks office…In town! 3.5 on the scale…but once again…lived to tell the tale!


Went to see the moko babies :) and their parents…At their house :) They’re so beautiful.


Hung out and made sand castles with moko midget and her mama…

:) :)

Btw – she didn’t like the sand at first but she got used to it.

– moko can walk now :)


I went into a shop I hadn’t been in for about 3 years…and I bought shit! (Not literally…I actually bought organic toothpaste and coconut oil lol)


Last but certainly not to be the least….

I took care of ME :)

kpm ©



note to self

Re: self care for Me

Being therapeutic, cathartic, soul searchy and shit….is fucken draining.

Take the day off tomorrow,  eat chocolate, drink your favourite coffee and go hang out with your family.

That is an order.