As the title states I am just that an old goth.I sometimes consider myself half goth half punk, kinda not really sure with all these new fangled terms getting around.I decided to start writing again when I noticed middle aged woman wearing T Shirts saying “Team Edward”. I had no fucking idea what the hell that meant until I asked a kind young girl in a chainstore.She said to me that I must of been living under a rock, you see it’s all about some saga called TWILIGHT. So color me stupid because I still had no idea.I came home and had a geek on line.What a load of hooha, some Vampire series that has the whole world of teens and the wanna be teens engrosed in shit. I have til this day not watched nor read this drivel. I have seen the ahem”actors” that are in these alledged “cult” movies.Please people get a grip.
You really are. Just then I was standing in the kitchen peeling vegetables when my not so little girl came and asked if she could help. In that moment I thought to myself “I am a lucky person I really am”. If not for a series of unfortunate events or paths I had taken in my life I would never of heard that little girl talking there to me. We are all entitled to one major fuck up in our life according to Smut Man, after all it is human to err. Thankfully my massive clusterfuck landed me in the town I grew up in & into the arms of Smut Man, plus his decision to chuck a sickie the day we ran into each other was the best decision ever made. Since that day we have bought 2 beautiful children into the world & have grown older & wiser together. If I had not chosen to leave what was a nightmare & save my own life I wouldn’t be here today relaying tidbits to you. In the back ground I can hear those 2 children & Smut Man watching a movie, we may not be wealthy but we are the richest people I know,
Poor bikie man sitting ever so unwell across from me in the doctors surgery, boo fucking hoo. I just noticed my phone is better than yours & you’re a bikie. Surely you could of stolen something better than the sub standard one you have. Perhaps your neanderthal brain finds it all too confusing, after all they are called Smart Phones. Oh & by the way that TAP OUT shirt you are wearing is a chicks shirt, I should know as I have the exact same one. Another great invention you may of missed is socks,you should really be wearing a pair with those skanky Addidas runners.Dear lord poor Mr Bikie man my tattoos are more masculine than yours, however did you earn that patch??? not for your fashion sense I see.While I am at it wearing baseball caps on backwards looks fucking stupid, but stupid is as stupid does.So thank you dickhead bikie for giving me writing fodder, I have had writers block for some time.
PS Bikie man,thanks a fucking lot for being a patient of my doctor who is always running late,now I have to wait for you. I hear there is no cure for being a DUMB COCKHEAD though.
I am sitting in the lounge room of the Strong Woman, the dog sleeps by the door.Her head always facing my uncles room.he is old now but remains devoted to her remaining family.She walks slower these days & the energetic young pup she was is now a distant memory. I woke this morning to the Magpies singing & nothing more, my family work long obscure hours so their rest is precious. I made a cup of tea & took it outside & sat on the verandah facing the early morning sun. From were I sit I can see my husbands first home & a lump rises in my throat & my heart is heavy. The mind & memory can be strange bedfellows. I hear a noise & for the briefest moment I think it’s my aunt just walking around the side. It is fleeting & soon I see the dog standing beside me. The Geraniums are everywhere, once they were an after thought planted near the front gate & now they encircle the whole yard.My heart aches a little more. Up the road my son lays, 18 years of guilt I had dragging my heart down was lifted yesterday. It was the strangest feeling, it was like he was saying “It’s ok Mum you can breathe” I took him flowers 8 in total, a red rose & a red gerbera from each of us he left behind. In the cemetery it is still & the sound of cars are muffled by my tears. I miss my family my babies & my husband. My heart is healing. Around my Aunts house there are trivial items that trick me into forgetting she is really gone.Even after 11 years. There is a spoon that was dubbed her “work spoon” it is awkwardly bent it sits on the dish rack. I make myself another tea & again while the spoon is in my hand I can feel her. she is there in the back of my mind. She is always looking down, protecting, loving & just simply making sure we all carry on. The house has changed over the years yet it still feels the same.There’s a sense of security & calm I get just walking through the front gate, yet now I realise my home is far from here back on the coast. Were my husband & children await my return & my heart hurts so much more. It’s been a steep learning curve but a lesson well learned. I now know that my son will be ok & I am at peace with that, finally. I speak to my kids & husband the morning sun is warm & I realise that home really is were the heart is.
When I was growing up there was a family that my “parents” were friends with.This relationship happened by chance, the strong brave woman & her(my incubator) worked together.On top of that the town I grew up was small, not tumbleweeds rolling down the road small but small all the same. The strong woman & her wonderful husband had children a little younger than I & we went to school together. This woman saved me, saved me from my own self destruction.She kept me sane throughout the bad years. If it wasn’t for her & that wonderful family I wouldn’t be sitting here today. She was my MUM, yes I realise she never gave birth to me but she was my Mum non the less. She took me in, she wiped my tears away & she made me realise I had hope. Nobody had ever done so much for me as she did. She was a funny woman, she cared not for material items, she had her own style & she never cared what others thought. She was a stickler for things done right,she had her own ways and we stuck to them. The woman she was made me the mum I am. When I lost my first child she held me tight, she told me my day would come & I would be a mum & a great one. I held those words in my heart & a few years later her words became truth. All the while she was batling along with a chronic condition, she never let on & she just did what had to be done. She never swore unless the occassional “shit” blurted out. She was a proud woman & everywhere she went people respected her. She was wiser than her years, she never ever put herself above others & she held everyone in equal esteem. Over a decade ago she started feeling a bit under the weather, so she took herself to the doctor. To this day it’s ingrained in my heart. She had cancer, I was hopeful I mean she was strong she could do anything.I thought she would beat it hands down. God I was wrong so so wrong. I got so angry it hurt, it burnt my soul. Why take her she is a mum with 3 sons & me. My little brother(her youngest) has never been the same.It’s like he’s lost in a fog & can’t find his way out.Her husband, the greatest dad any child could ask for is a firm believer in loving only once. He too is a broken man, his eyes say more than he ever will. He has always been a man of few words but I respect that. There is so many times since she was taken from us that I wish for even 1 hour she was here.So thanks to the strongest woman that graced this earth.You will live in my heart forever.
I am writing my story today in hope that wherever you are geographically or emotionally you will see there is hope.
I am a mum of 2 children & I am married to a wonderful man. Once upon a time this was an impossible dream. I spent a long time in the fog an eternity being blanketed by a weight that was so heavy I thought I would be squashed.
My “father” & “mother” (terms I cannot use) were toxic & beyond words I can convey here. He “the sperm donor” was drug addled & mentally unwell. He had her “the incubator” walking the streets at 16. He had fantasies of an empire built on drugs & prostitution. She just wanted to escape the mundane.
At 19 she fell pregnant with me & her life didn’t skip a beat. She walked the streets until she was unable to “pick up” anymore. I was born they attempted some semblance of normalcy. I have no idea why since the damage was already done. He was a wife beating misogynist & she was a prescription drug addict they were a match made in heaven. I grew older and as I did I watched him beat her senseless usually over trivial shit like make up or clothing. She was called every name under the sun from slut to whore & words I prefer not to write. He would grab her hair and smash her head against a coffee table & scream. When he screamed he sounded like a woman, like a banshee. He had guns, so many weapons & he was always paranoid that people were after him. He often would snap & have her & I sit in the lounge room like a hostage situation. We couldn’t speak we weren’t allowed to go to the toilet or get a drink. “Sit fucking there you pair of Cunts”. That’s all I was, a female worthy of denigration every day over and over. One day 8 days before my 8th birthday she went to work & never came home. I thought the worse immediately that he had finally killed her. Far from that she had left. She had been putting money away over a period of time & sneaking clothing out to start her new life WITHOUT ME. She was gone & I was left to deal with the fallout & my life was never the same. I didn’t know that he was a paedophile I didn’t know he killed people for a living. He soon started to show another side I never knew, he was deranged and a monster. He took trips over seas to buy children to unleash his wrath on little girls & boys who’s parents where willing to sell their children for a premium price. I was raped and sold to his friends I too had a dollar value. How do you become a parent the Emotional Assassin. How do you look your child in the eye & know that you are responsible for their demise. I cannot fathom it, I never will. He went on to abuse me for long enough that I bear physical scars to this day. The mind can heal but the body cannot they say it’s the reverse but I beg to differ. I have been cut with razors had my hands bound with cable ties & to this day shudder at the sight of them. Throughout the years that he defiled my life he also put me on a path of self destruction. I took so many drugs, drugs to make me sleep usually. I loved Mogadon, Valium pretty much every drug that had a sedative effect. I got into trouble with the law, so much so that now I have a criminal record. I am not proud of that & I wish that I could go back & change so much but that isn’t the way life works is it. I became an alcoholic at 14 & spent time in hospital with alcohol induced ulceration. I was on the downhill run hoping to die & nobody was there to stop me. One day whilst in a local psych hospital I was sitting feeling sorry for myself & I had visitors come to see me. I have a family I know that have been around since before she left. My aunt & uncle (not biological) had come down to check on me & while they were there in the back of my head I had a thought churning over and over. “I have to tell them I have to tell them”, I owe them that much. You see nobody knew about his abuse as he had threatened to take my life and those around me & I believed it. The sun was right above me & you know that feeling you get when the back of your head feels that sensation like fire mixed with perspiration. Right then I thought “Fuck you I am going to tell them” & I did. The words flowed out like a verbal purge of shame, guilt & so much anger. Within weeks they had me seeing a specialist detective who dealt with adults that had been abused as children. I bit the bullet so to speak & made him accountable for his years of mistreatment & it felt good. Like I had learned to breathe again or walk with crutches. I felt liberated & powerful but most of all I felt HUMAN. I could walk down the street & not fear corners or people coming towards me. I look at others without feeling watched & I could speak without fear of retribution. There is so much more to my story & it is very hard to write it all in one go but little by little on days when my thoughts are my own I can write. These days I count everyday a blessing & when I look at my two beautiful children I know that I lived & survived for a greater purpose. That is to watch my children grow to give them love to see them accomplish whatever they desire & most of all to protect them at all cost.
In the end we all have the ability to overcome our demons & there is hope. The answer isn’t in a television show, it isn’t in a book & it isn’t in a bottle. The only person you can look to is yourself. Thank you for reading my story.
Movement | Against | Kindred | Offenders
Web address mako.org.au this site is a real eye opener.These filthy individuals need to be made PUBLIC. If you have time please pass the site on.We all have the rights as parents & carers to be privvy to this information.