Rememberance

At 11 oclock tomorrow. I will stand for 2 minutes, I will allow my thoughts to soak up the silence. For I am blessed with freedom... I will be thankful to all the men and women who have served in the forces to keep us free. Some of whom died many who did not.... but all of them gave of themselves for us.



During World War 2 my grandfather served with the Northumberland fusiliersfor 3 weeks before being captured and placed in Changii... he was then taken as part of the task force that built the now notorious Burma railway. My Grandfather was a quiet gentle man who cared not only for his own children but also raised his grand-daughter. He was supportive of me when I decided I was not ( like my family) a catholic and that I wanted to study paganism. He also fully supported my decision to become a dancer. he never questioned me. He told me that nothing could ever stop me but myself.



He dies when I was 12. With him died my greatest fan and strongest supported. Everything I have done was to prove to him I deserved his full love. Something he gave without question.



He gave of himself everyday to others as he did during his term in the forces.... He rarely talked about his time as a prisioner of war.... I know he ran the concert parties in the camp (I still have a call sheet he wrote for a christmas production).... I know he didnt eat for weeks and at times survived on raw chillies that grew on a tree outside the camp that they could reach through some bars.... I know it haunted him everyday that he survived and most of his friends did not. He told me thatthese men and women gave their lives so I could live mine as i wanted too.... That I did not have to have my freedom taken away from me and I should respect it and them. He was right.

Everday men and women sign up to join our armed forces. These people deserve more respect than we can give... and a lot more than 2 minutes once a year.

I cherish my freedom given to me by many I will never know or could ever comprehend.... and for that I am eternally grateful and proud to be british.


"They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them"

Oh ... right!!!!

" I am not high maintenance!!!!" I said with indignation..... my mind working through it. High maintenance women are spoilt ..... Oh!!! .... High maintenance women have to get their own way .... hmmm!!!!!...... High maintenance women need looking after ..... "I AM high maintenance"

I have always believed myself to be a strong independent woman ... I was financially and physically independent at 15. I had my own income and living in student digs ... I was on my own ... something I had been emotionally for many years

Now I was starting to realise that although I am on my own ... I am not independent ... I have always relied heavily on other people ... I didn't look after myself ... I just paid people to look after me!!!

I am the first to admit to having my Diva moments ... a few days ago I was writing about the evening I sent some poor boy out of the hotel early in the morning to find some fish and chips because the hotels idea of fish and chips was .... well far to posh for me

You see I don't think about it like that ... he was there to help me ... I wanted fish and chips ... so I sent him! Oh looking back I must have been a real bitch to work for ... why didn't they tell me to go fuck myself ... I would have

So why was I allowed to become high maintenance .... why am i still being allowed to be high maintenance ....

A few months ago I went to meet some friends in Manchester ... I had to change trains at York ... a simple task, people do it every day ... in my dimness I missed it (again something easily done). So what did I do ... did I (like most people) go to the information desk? Did I look for the next train on a bulletin board? .......No!

Did I find a porter walking along the platform and in my own special way get him to find out the information and take me to where I wanted to be and stay with me until I got on the train to make sure I didn't make a mistake .... Yes!!!

I'm nothing special ... I am no different to anyone else on the platform that day .... I don't think myself better than anyone .. in fact most of the time I think I'm worse than everyone else. But it has to be said people always seem to want to help me

I spent the weekend in a hotel recently and went down to breakfast ... a very nice buffet ... and I was amazed by the toaster ... it was almost magical you placed a piece of bread on the rack and it took the brad into the machine and when it popped out the other side it was toasted ... amazing!!! That morning I had 4 people in total help me with my breakfast ... showing me how things worked helping me reach things and just serving me food .... I didn't ask for help from any of them .......

So despite my reservations I am spoilt, I get my own way and I need looking after .. I am high maintenance

In a discussion about my need for High Maintenance Anonmous it was decided that the meeting would have to be at my house .... well they would have to come to me now wouldn't they!!!!

explaining the silence

its been a funny few weeks .... I lost the summer somehow ... I got sick again (yet more health drama) I lost my great aunt (a painful loss) and my best friend got married (a true joy)



looking back I think about the moments we come to in life and realise that everyone is a blessing because it builds us .... My constant fight with ill heath is a reminder to myself that Im not as strong as I would care to admit too. I have fought hard every day of my life to be independant that I have spent a lifetime pushing away anything that shows me as weak or vunerable. And yet... it is through these vunerable times we are the strongest ...

My Aunt was a strong catholic woman she was as wholesome as you could get, she ran the church flower committee with grace, she played organ for the church choir, was an upstanding member of the WI but she also had a taste for neat gin and dirty jazz. About 2 weeks before her death she paid one of her visits to me ... she was, as always, sat at my piano playing, gin at hand and making me sing, at 94 she looked amazing ..... I learnt so much from that lady and I miss her every day .... I sang 'young love for sale' at her funeral, a song about prostitution and drug use.... real smooth dirty jazz, just how she liked it as i looked around at her friends (in the catholic church) half were smiling, half looked horrified and I realised I got it right, just as she had for years be honest, do good and be true to yourself.

over a month later as I was sewing handmade satin flowers on my best friends wedding dress and was again practising to sing in another church I thought how different the two occasions were this time singing a beautiful love song for two people I hold dear to my heart. And even though the situations changed the emotion hadnt ... I sang during both occasions for people I loved deeply, to show their spirit ...

Ive only recently allowed myself to feel emotion .... it isnt easy and Im aware I slip easily back to the coldhearted shell I once was..... but I know that despite all I have said in the past, and all the fear of hurt I carry .... they were right it is all worth it .

New shoes...

Today I got a parcel i have been waiting for .... 5 inch heel spectator pumps from america ... for those that dont know about these go and look them up.... they are the shoes most associated with Hollywood icons of the 40's and 50's a time that those who know me will know i believe i should have lived through.

I was born to a generation that believes that as a woman should be equal to men. I should be treat exactly the same as them and not allowed any allowences for being a woman ...

I should be able to play football, change a tyre, drink pints until i pass out and wear jogging bottoms, scrap back my hair and burp on command .... I can do all these things and more I have 11 uncles that shaped my childhood ... I was always going somewhere and doing something with 'the boys'

But... I am not a man ... I was not a boy and although i can do those things what does it get me ... a sprained ankle and bruised shins, a drinks issue and the wrong sort of attention ...

I was born a girl I became a woman and there is nothing wrong with that ... I believe womanhood should be cherished, it gives us so much and i am not ashamed of using it

I work hard I always have and i always will I do not need a man to keep me I am capable of keeping myself, but (and this is where womens lib will slaughter me) I think I should be treat like a lady ....

It does not make me less of a person to have a gentleman hold a door for me ... it does not mean i am incapable if i have him carry my shopping bags ....

Men and women are different ... we are made that way ... I do not want to be a man, and like it or not i will use my femininity to get things i want ... (wrong perhaps but it works!)

by keeping my appearence smart and my make up crisp and clean, I will draw attention ... with a quite spoken voice i will encourage people to listen ... If i remain calm and cool people will give me the respect I deserve....Why would i not want that

Hate me all you like but with my new shoes my make up and clothes, I will win my arguement without much work.... you in your comfortable shoes and clothes ... would you?

Out of the dark

I have Bipolar disorder ... I can say that now ... its quite the fashion item.
It makes me cool

A few years ago ... (when it was called manic depression) noone would use the words, they... people would look at me and wonder what the hell was wrong with me ...

Mental illness is something that has always been around, and I have recently heard it said that there is more cases of depression reported now than ever before ... but the thinking that depression is on the rise is wrong ... the vital word in the statement is 'reported'

Now there is so much that can be done to help people and its not a straight jacket and a sedative (although sometimes i think i may need it)

I was 15 when I first was told i had depression and 19 when I was told i had the then named Manic depression ... and i was 27 before anyone explained what that meant and by then I was Bipolar (although i still prefer manic ... sounds much better)

I am (as of yesterday) 34 and now I understand it, but it doesnt stop being scarey or life changing as you are experiencing it ....

I have nothing of importance to say about depression ... but maybe a small piece of advice

when someone is depressed ... a real chemical depression rather than a reactive depression there is nothing friends and family can do ... there are no words no actions or steps to be taken the person needs to go through it one step at a time ...... but the one thing you can do is to be there half a step behind .... close enough for them to reach out ... so close they can hear your breathing ... you do not need to speak or guide or push

A special person has just done that for me ... he sat each night in my blackness he adjusted his vision to my dark he allowed me to feel my pain and accepted that there was nothing he could do but be there for me, for that I will be eternally grateful .....

To all my friends thank you and I love you. I owe you my life xxx

Happy birthday litle girl!

On June 13th 2000 at 1022am a baby girl was removed from me .... for 13 seconds there was silence .... as they tried to get her to breathe

This baby was alway meant to be a fighter ... I was not able to have children (they told me that when I was 14!) .... I had a drunken encounter with a man I shouldnt have (condom used!) ... I drank heavily took substances that I shouldnt ... never ate or slept ..... forced myself into corsets and danced for hours most nights ...... I was 22 weeks pregnant before I knew it .....

knowing I was didnt make me stop ...... I couldnt!!!

I had my first pre-natal check the day before my daughter was born ... I had been rushed to hospital I was so ill ..... I had pre eclampsia. The baby was traverse and i had placenta previa ... had I gone into labour naturally my baby would have died.... and possibly me too! I was rushed in for a emergency c-section.

In those 13 seconds my world stopped the silence was deafening ..... I hadnt even met her and I knew I had to survive ....and so did she .... then came the cry ...

a noise I was to hear a lot more from that point ... a noise I would go on to hate ... but at that moment my old life stopped and my new one started.

The last 9 years have been a rollercoaster .... ups and downs highs and lows ..... but I seem to have got her through in one piece

As I kissed my birthday girl tonight I looked down at a 9 year old girl ... who everyday amazes me and I realise again that I created a miracle and she fought to be with me .... and I fought to be with her

Of all the things I have achieved in my life her and her little brother are my greatest works

Happy 9th birthday my shining star ....................xxxx

A little bit of everything....

So here I am ... Shame I dont know where 'here' is!

Im not sure I even know where 'there' was ... I remember there was dancing ... singing ... and parties that would blow your mind. There was people many many people all playing their part ... and me there in the middle.

Then there was the silence .... despite the strange buzzing in my ear!

But all that is over now .....

Now Im an ex-dancer .... I do not perform ... well .....not for the public!

In a moment of sanity .... (or maybe in hindsight it was insanity) I retrained as a psychologist!

That ended too!

Now Im an ex-dancing psychologist with a plan .... well at least a thought and maybe as I go along it will become a plan .....

Stick with me its going to be a fun journey .... Oh and the stories I could tell you!!!!!