#TheCrown #darkwaters #miscarriage #bulimia #trauma #I’mexperiementingwithhashtags #secretmessage #theyarediggingupgravesinnunheadcemetaryasthetreerootsareunearthingthemeverythingisbeingunearthed
Tesco Delivery Man with me holding huge Daz, their substitute for no bio Tesco powder
This Tesco Delivery Driver was happy to come in and help with my shopping, good job too, my family eco non-bio washing powder wasn’t available, this was Tesco replacement. I can hardly lift the box, my legs nearly gave in.
A dry lockdown for me this time round. I wanted to be as alert, as aware and ON it as possible. To respond and be as true to my feelings as I can be. I’m returning to my SELF, whilst trying to stay grounded.
As a psychotherapist working continuously during 2020, the more the lockdowns, the more isolation we suffer, whoever we are, and whoever we are with. It is those who have been abused, and are aware (or are becoming aware) of emotions in relation to their abuse and abuser, recognizing intensely, the continued abuse this year brings, with Government threats of more, all across the world.
Most abuse (Including my experience as a survivor) occurs, and recurs behind closed doors, either alone or in a group (who are also being abused, in various TIERS!). The more isolated we are, the more oppressed we become and the more we ‘go along’ with what we’re told. The more we hear words like TRACK, TRACE, LOCKDOWN, NEW NORMAL, CONSPIRACY THEORIES, MANDATORY, LAWS, DISTANCING, KILLING YOUR GRANNY (where are grandads?), OVERWHELMING, AUSTERITY, WORST RECESSION … the abuse runs and runs and runs deep, like a needle in an arm…INJECT HOPE INTO MILLIONS OF ARMS…There’s another from Mr Hancock. That’s not a sign of hope, that’s a sign of torture to me, re what’s to come. The nearest I’m getting to a needle is going through the eye of one on my spiritual journey of love.
More recently, I saw a photo of a younger beaming Mr Hancock with the man himself, Klaus Schwab, also beaming at a WEF conference. Our government are looking for volunteers, scapegoats, to administrate our Christmas and New Year present of THE NEEDLE, oh two needles, then more because as Hancock said, there will be vaccines for viruses we don’t even know about yet. Our chance to be Captain Tom’s, and the Government are bringing in celebrities to help, dread to think who will buy into that one. I despair again, yet I know, behind the scenes (unseen in mass media) there are growing protest groups and the World Dr’s Alliance, triumphing over laws worldwide. Fighting for human rights.
Saturday night I watched Dark Waters, a film I recommend. It gave me some great insight into the enormity with what we’re dealing with right now. I’m putting my hope into the likes of Robert Bilott to save us (DuPont are selling PPE of all things). The Social Network, and Human Nature, both documentaries on Netflix, fabulous, I’ve never taken so much in, in my life.
And then there is the drama of The Crown, of which I have watched with delight. A friend on Facebook wrote:
“All Lady Diana does on the Crown is watch Bagpuss and pukes posh cake down the lavatory! Was she a Bagpuss fan?”
I replied:
“By watching Bagpuss and puking up posh cakes, Diana was busy putting bulimia on the map and by doing so has saved lives…
Watch Bagpuss
Throw up
Save Lives
I’m delighted that The Crown shows what it’s like, the shame and inner disgust. Diana helped me, that’s for sure. Before she came out about bulimia, I honestly thought I was the only person in the world who was that disgusting, at times I felt suicidal. Long may Diana puke on TV and watch Bagpuss which I believe may well have represented a time when she was a child and felt safe, before her mother abandoned her.”
Poor Diana, I was such a fan. Got beaten up by four girls on her wedding day and was on a day trip to Paris when she died (more about that another time).
Moving onto Meghan, who has now put miscarriage on the map with a more permanent marker I hope. Nice one Meghan. I am thrilled, yes, shame, pain, grief and inner torment, I know this pain only too well. Here is the song I wrote after my third miscarriage. I was too traumatised to speak after an appointment. I was at a friend’s house who was busy cooking for her three kids. She sat me down, got me a piece of paper and a pen and said “write a poem”. And here it is, I’m hoping to record it, post it on YouTube, maybe send to Meghan? I never got a chance to send my bulimia stuff to Di. The music of the song is like a cross between Nelly the Elephant and a Gang Show jolly ditty.
Recurring Miscarriage Clinic Suite 8, third floor
Didn’t we have a lovely time at the recurring miscarriage clinic
You must admit it’s improved a lot with the new consultant Mr Jerkoff
And when he’s about the ladies shout aloud with glee
Didn’t we have a lovely time, all of the girls and me
Big long shiny probe right up your fanny
Searching, searching in every nook and cranny, oh!
Didn’t we have a lovely time at the recurring miscarriage clinic
You must admit it’s improved we see with new magazines and daytime TV
And when we all see a heavily pregnant celebrity
We all shout out aloud in joyous arouse, all of the girls and me
Pictures of foetus’s lining the corridor walls
Old ones, new ones and some in fallopian tubes, oh!
Didn’t we have a lovely time at the recurring miscarriage clinic
You must admit it’s improved the loss with the new receptionist Mrs Toss
And when she’s about the ladies shout aloud with joy
A fabulous time, I wonder what sex, a girl or a boy?
La la la la, la la, la la, la la la la, la la….etc
Didn’t we have, a wonderful time at the RECURRING MISCARRIAGE CLINIC….
Charles and Diana on my tea caddy
I watched 1984 last night. I recommend that too.
There is truth and there is untruth
To be in a minority doesn’t make you mad
Thank you Mr Orwell for those words right now
Do join me if you are alive.
At the weekend I stayed at my uncle Peter’s. Uncle Peter has been disabled since 1946 when he contracted Polio. On arrival I was pleased to find he had a new stair lift installed and sink moved in toilet to make mobility in and out of wheel chair easier. We chatted about delivery men and how he uses Sainsbury and how good they are in Southampton. We chatted about Brexit and education and he helped me respond to a ridiculous school email.
Liz Bentley 