The universal human need to be needed. The basic human rights of love, care and acceptance. The intimacy of belonging to community. These are the emotional truths I wish to explore. How my needs, rights and sense of belonging have, and have not, been met. The consequences to me, and to everyone I connect with, from my lack of self-love. Read More
I’m the girl who loves cats, scrawny or fat, fluffy or flat, cuddly or coy.
I’m the girl who loves the jingle jangle of an armful of bangles, and the sweet sentimental memories of an amethyst necklace. Read More
Always reaching out for freedom.
My hands are tied and as lost as my soul is. Read More
It seems like I’m always someone else – or pieces of other people put together. Somehow it’s always easier to be someone else. Read More
I have wanted death I have cried for it I have sought the final oblivion of death for as long as I am able to remember. Yet, I am here, I am alive and I can not help but wonder why? Why did the rope not strangle me, or the pills stop my heart? Why when the trigger was pulled, the gun did not spark? Why, when my blood was flowing, did my pulse still beat? Why when the voices yelled death and murder was I not defeated? Read More
When everything hurts. When everything is just to much. I hold my head and I hide. If I can not see the demons, maybe they can not see me? Read More
Face off. The truth of the masks and the pain it hides. Read More
In order to successfully publish my memoir next year (hopefully next year) I need to have people to tell about it. So in a desperate and shameless act of self promotion, I’ve created an author page on Facebook and I’d be very chuffed if you liked it. Read More
Eurydice Dixon was raped and murdered last week. I confess, prior to hearing the news, I had never heard of the fledgling comic – despite her fabulous and memorable name. She was just 22 years old when the violent and fatal act was perpetrated in the wee hours of the morning in a Melbourne park. It… Read More
How small a world becomes when locked away, be that lock constructed of our own fruition. Read More