So there is but fire In you, in me?

Well - this may be one of my most bizarre and personal posts ever! And the tale I wish to tell begins last week, when, during a conversation about how to look 35 when you are actually 57 (and she really did - Botox and fillers, but even so!) she told me all about dermodex wipes.. Other then the discomfort of thinking about spider-worms living in my eyelashes, I suddenly realised that perhaps I too needed to wage war on my dermodex! After Covid 2, I've not really recovered? Who knows! And my poor eyelids have been so sore, and one of them looked really infected, and it looked as if someone had punched me - it was that bad, and the other one wasn't exactly healthy looking! And yes I took a day off to get to the doctors - but I was told that the doctors no longer do 'eyes'! That I needed to make an appointment with a pharmacy - who all had waiting lists two weeks long! I stayed in bed and listed to hypnotherapy instead - thinking, 'it's come to this'. Anyway, r

Well, here's a weird one. I was talking to my boss who, as a student, had worked in a mental hospital, and he said the strangest thing, 'There was a distinct smell to schizophrenia' And instantly I remembered a distinct smell associated with my son's psychosis.  In my blog post I'd written:  [+] ... It reminds me of school dinners, cooked liver to be precise. It makes my blood run cold. Deep down some bit of me goes into terror when I smell it. I override the primal impulse to run...because I assume I'm feeling what he feels, and I'm not giving in, I keep my head. Nevertheless, I just don't get why there is a particular smell to it. What does that signify? He continued to explain that there was a urine test that would show a pink dot if a person was psychotic because how a person smells is related to their metabolism, So, that is interesting, I thought!  Let's follow it up. I've found that the pink spot test presents some problems, things are no

I remember when I first came across Wim Hof method as an invite on my FaceBook page. I had no interest in Wim. I thought that he was mad. Also, if I wanted to know how to be warm in the cold I should apply myself and learn Tummo! But curiosity got the better of me. And I think I began to be pulled in when I realized that even though WHM seems an absurd thing to do - it isn't complicated, and it is free!  The invite to learn WHM was offering a safe encounter with fear. That was my first thought anyway. And I knew that I needed that because therapy couldn't 'talk' to my body - and my body is where trauma lived. So I started watching YouTube videos called things like 'I did Wim Hof Method for thirty days and this is what happened'! The breathing looked hard work. And cold showers are grim regardless, and nothing about Wim Hof method made any sense to me, yet those thirty-day WHM YouTubers were happy. Worse, they said they thought they would continue, they said it

An envelope just fell through the door. I opened it in trepidation. Perhaps I've not noticed any good things recently, or it could well be true that only bad things have come my way since that January feeling. An almost palpable sense that someone had attached angel wings to my back and told me that I should do something about the various wrongs that have accrued in 2023. Call me Nemesis... I didn't want to do that. I prevaricated, I rationalised. I said 'it wont make the person(s) behave better to others, in fact I think it will make them more defensive and less kind.  I made one half hearted attempt to open up the issue. And received a reply that was quite frankly deranged. So here I am, opening up an envelope. No post mark to say where it was from. The writing looked a bit like mine. But anyway, inside there was a photo of me when I was about eleven; photos of my daughters, my first husband. No explanations. Nothing. Could have come from my sister? I assume they were sen

 I am a fan of Dan Simmonds - especially of Drood, and the Hyperion Cantos.  They paused at the head of the valley. Soft dunes gave way to rock and ink-black shadows at the swale which led down to the glowing Tombs. No one led the way. No one spoke. The Consul felt his heart beating wildly against his ribs. Worse than fear or knowledge of what lay below was the blackness of spirit which seemed to have come into him on the wind, chilling him and making him want to run screaming toward the hills from which they had come... But the Cantos only provide half of the metaphor I'm looking for, as my way into the feelings of this post.  Another book by Dan Simmonds is Drood. Here, Wilkie Collins is the fallible and deeply flawed protagonist, narrator and cause of some wicked going's on; obsessivly observing and commenting upon the less than noble behavior of his equally talented and flawed friend, Mr Charles Dickens, Inspector Field stopped. I stopped. After a moment, he said, “Your poi

I am mapping the land in which I live.  My home is a Jenga tower. I take half my husband's salary until he stops me is one way to look at this . So, every month it could be that he has shifted his salary to another account and therefore I'd have no money. The other way to see this is, he needs to divorce me.  And I need him to believe that I'm broken, because that is safer. I earn money as a therapist sometimes . I can't earn money from where I had my placement until I get my qualification paperwork sorted out. I am waiting for my college to send me my certificate, and then I will be waiting for my professional body to confirm my qualification - and then I need to do their viva. The other place I work has run out of funding, so last month I earnt £30. So, let's say January, perhaps!  And then I can apply for jobs?  Roof leaks, things need replacing.  And there is a whole load of moldy baggage I could delve into about how most counsellors are middle class women suppo

Yesterday,  I remembered the  Tic Tac . I saw it on September 7th and I was in Bromsgrove. I had got out of my car and as I looked up, I noticed an odd, white, flying thing .  To be honest, my first though was  -  is that a peddle bin? I watched, and tried to make sense of it, and I gave up! But it was absolutely not a bin. It wove in and out of the cloud.  When I arrived at my friend's house, I said ' I think I've just seen a UFO' and everyone else decided that 'it was probably a drone' - and a part of me agreed and I said  'it was probably Google'! 'It was probably Google ' that makes even less sense! So I had forgotten about that until yesterday, almost forty days ago now! Why? And why hadn't I asked myself questions about what it could be? The first reason is the miasma of fear surrounding these things. I actually felt scared when I thought of talking about it. Fear is part of the UAP experience it seems. But the second, more interesting