30 years is a lifetime.

The day has arrived, the one that has taunted me from the shadows for the past month. I’ve held my shit together pretty darn well I think. One wobble, that’s all I’ve had, and I have no idea what triggered it either, but it’s fine, I’m fine, it didn’t last long. I’ve thought a lot about then and now. I’ve thought a lot about why there’s even a significance this year, why I’m being so affected by it all.

30 years. I was going to say 30 years of being your victim, but I’m no longer your victim, if I’m honest I haven’t been for a very long time. You may have took something from me then, but I’ve got so much more back, I am so much more than your cowardly act could ever have imagined; taking my innocence, leaving me broken and bleeding, torn apart inside, almost dead inside. What you didn’t know was the mighty fucking warrior I had been, even then, even as a 16 year old girl with her whole life in front of her. You didn’t snuff me out. Ripping my underwear off me and forcing yourself inside of me, threatening to kill me and holding me at knifepoint to make sure you could carry out your sick attack on my innocent body. Laughing at me and spitting on me, calling me a whore, you didn’t snuff me out. When you jeered at me in the identity parade, taunting me, laughing at my emotional breakdown – even your lawyer was disgusted at you, his sympathy all for me. You didn’t expect me to remember, you thought I hadn’t seen your face, how could I ever forget such an ugly, vile soul?


It may have taken me a little while, but I brought justice down on your vileness. I may have veered off my path, sunk into the depths of despair more times than I wanted to, but you didn’t snuff me out. I clawed my way back out of the hell you forced me into. I clawed my way back out of the depths of despair. I was battered and bruised on the inside, broken and empty, but you didn’t snuff me out.

You attacked me because I walked home alone, but you didn’t snuff me out.

You attached me because I wore a short skirt, but you didn’t snuff me out.

You attacked me because you wanted to feel power over women, BUT YOU DIDN’T SNUFF ME OUT!!!!

You threatened me with a knife, held it against my throat, the steel blade pushing up against my windpipe, I thought you would surely puncture my skin, BUT YOU DIDN’T SNUFF ME OUT!!!!!!!

There are things you did and said that only my husband, mother and the police know, your wickedness will not be repeated, why would I give it a voice?

I rose from the spark that you tried to snuff out, I became whole again, unafraid. I wear the emotional scars from your attack, they remind me daily how truly wicked some people are. They remind me just how far I’ve come since August 23rd 1987. I embraced my female self, because you didn’t snuff it out, you tried, but you didn’t succeed.


30 years ago you sought to destroy my life. 30 years on I am still here, alive, fighting, defying your disgusting act and being me.


When the ancestors listen but you don’t realise.

I’ve never worked with my ancestors, ritually speaking. I had a problem recently that needed everything I could throw at it and someone suggested working my ancestors. But I didn’t really know how, everything just felt wrong, all of the methods I’d researched just didn’t feel right for me. I ended up throwing my arms in the air and just asking out loud for them to help. I had no way of knowing if they were listening, if they’d heard me, and so I went about life and forgot all about my petition to them.

Today I was talking to a friend about synchronicity and that was when the penny dropped. Recently I’ve had a certain song play repeatedly in my head, I’d also felt the need to listen to it quite a lot. But I’ve only just made the connection as to why today; the song is The Sound Of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel, and it always, always reminds me of my Dad.

Guess the ancestors were listening after all. 😀

Insomnia Tales.

Sleep evades me. It’s almost 1:30am here in the U.K. and I’m yet to fall asleep. It’s not that I’m not tired, on the contrary, I am tired. But my body hurts. Pain makes it hard for me to get comfortable. Joints threaten to pop out of place if I don’t move carefully. The medication I take SHOULD make me sleepy, but pain won’t let me fall asleep easily.

It’s a viscous circle; I hurt all over, I’m tired and need sleep, but the pain prevents me from falling asleep and when I do fall asleep I’m awake again several times throughout the night. I start the next day exhausted, in pain, but by bedtime I can’t sleep. And on and on and on it goes.

Of course, when I can’t sleep my mind does overtime with the ridiculous thoughts and ponderings. Tonight is no exception, the innate chatter is beyond ridiculous, in the background there is heavy rain. The heavy rain leads me into a new train of thought: why does it always rain in Cumbria during the school holidays in summer?


That leads me to think of a gig in the summer of 1985 – Live Aid. Ah the memories ❤️

And that’s lead me to think how much music has played a pivotal role in my life. Throughout my childhood, my teenage years, the dark times, the happy times, music is always there for me. And that’s why I’m going to listen to a relaxing piece of music each night, in the hope that it’ll help relax me enough and help me drift off.

Tonight all I can think about is The Sound Of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel. The song has a special place in my heart, makes me think of the good times as a child with my parents.

And on that note, I bid you goodnight.