Ten historical moments of epic magnificence…

In today’s installment of the Ten Times to Be Happy challenge I’ve been tasked to pick ten of my favourite historical moments. For a history nerd, the difficulty isn’t thinking of historical moments, it’s in picking just ten from the millions of possibilities. But let’s see how we get on!

~1~
Callanish Standing Stones
2900 – 2600BC

The Callanish Stones (or Clachan Chalanais or Tursachan Chalanais in Gaelic) are an arrangement of standing stones placed in a cruciform pattern with a central stone circle. They were erected in the late Neolithic era, and were a focus for ritual activity during the Bronze Age.

~2~
“I have a dream”
28 August 1963

“I Have a Dream” is a public speech delivered by American civil rights activist Martin Luther King Jr. in which he calls for an end to racism in the United States. Delivered to over 250,000 civil rights supporters from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial during the March on Washington, the speech was a defining moment of the American Civil Rights Movement.

~3~
The Beaumont Children
26 January 1966

Jane Nartare Beaumont (aged 9; born 10 September 1956), Arnna Kathleen Beaumont (aged 7; born 11 November 1958), and Grant Ellis Beaumont (aged 4; born 12 July 1961) were three siblings collectively known as the Beaumont children who disappeared from Glenelg Beach near Adelaide, South Australia, on Australia Day, 26 January 1966.

Their case resulted in one of the largest police investigations in Australian criminal history and remains one of Australia’s most infamous cold cases. The huge attention given to this case, its significance in Australian criminal history, and the fact that the mystery of their disappearance has never been explained, has led to the story being revisited by the press on a regular basis. It is also viewed by many social commentators as a significant event in the evolution of Australian society, with a large number of people changing the way they supervised their children on a daily basis.

For baby boomers growing up in the late 1960s, and for those who came after, the subsequent police investigation into the abduction and probable murder of the Beaumont children has been both repelling and haunting. On the fortieth anniversary of the children’s disappearance, many questions still remain: What happened to Jane, Arnna and Grant Beaumont at Glenelg on the day they disappeared? Who was the man last seen with the children that day? Why has there never been a public inquest into the children’s disappearance? What links are there to the abduction of two young girls from Adelaide Oval in 1973 and the infamous Family Murders in the early 1980s? Are the Beaumont children still alive, as many still believe, or buried in some unmarked spot?

The mere mention of the words ‘the Beaumont children’ brings so many memories of that time flooding back. For those who have come after, and know only the half-truths and the urban myths, there is a yearning to know more – to understand the unimaginable and try to answer questions that may never be answered.

For over four decades now, we have all been searching for the Beaumont children.

from ‘Searching for the Beaumont Children’
by Alan J. Whiticker

~4~
Feminism
1837-Present

Charles Fourier, a Utopian Socialist and French philosopher, is credited with having coined the word “féminisme” in 1837. The words “féminisme” (“feminisme”) and “féminist” (“feminist”) first appeared in France and the Netherlands in 1872, Great Britain in the 1890s, and the United States in 1910, and the Oxford English Dictionary lists 1852 as the year of the first appearance of “feminist” and 1895 for “feminism”. Depending on historical moment, culture and country, feminists around the world have had different causes and goals. Most western feminist historians assert that all movements that work to obtain women’s rights should be considered feminist movements, even when they did not (or do not) apply the term to themselves. Other historians assert that the term should be limited to the modern feminist movement and its descendants. Those historians use the label “protofeminist” to describe earlier movements.

The history of the modern western feminist movements is divided into three “waves”. Each wave dealt with different aspects of the same feminist issues. The first wave comprised women’s suffrage movements of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, promoting women’s right to vote. The second wave was associated with the ideas and actions of the women’s liberation movement beginning in the 1960s. The second wave campaigned for legal and social equality for women. The third wave is a continuation of, and a reaction to, the perceived failures of second-wave feminism, beginning in the 1990s.

“I hate men who are afraid of women’s strength.”
~Anaïs Nin~

~5~
The Battle of Bannockburn
24 June 1314

The Battle of Bannockburn was a significant Scottish victory in the First War of Scottish Independence. Stirling Castle, a Scots royal fortress, occupied by the English, was under siege by the Scottish army. The English king, Edward II, assembled a formidable force to relieve it. This attempt failed, and his army was defeated in a pitched battle by a smaller army commanded by the King of Scots, Robert the Bruce.

Scots Wha Hae
By Robert Burns

‘Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome tae yer gory bed,
Or tae victorie.

‘Now’s the day, an now’s the hour:
See the front o battle lour,
See approach proud Edward’s power –
Chains and Slaverie.

‘Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha will fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn an flee.

‘Wha, for Scotland’s king and law,
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or Freeman fa,
Let him on wi me.

‘By Oppression’s woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.

‘Lay the proud usurpers low,
Tyrants fall in every foe,
Liberty’s in every blow! –
Let us do or dee.

~6~
The Glencoe Massacre
13 February 1692

Early in the morning, in the aftermath of the Glorious Revolution and the Jacobite uprising of 1689 led by John Graham of Claverhouse, a massacre took place in Glen Coe, in the Highlands of Scotland. This incident is referred to as the massacre of Glencoe, or in Scottish Gaelic Mort Ghlinne Comhann or murder of Glen Coe. The massacre began simultaneously in three settlements along the glen—Invercoe, Inverrigan, and Achnacon—although the killing took place all over the glen as fleeing MacDonalds were pursued. Thirty-eight MacDonalds from the Clan MacDonald of Glencoe were killed by the guests who had accepted their hospitality, on the grounds that the MacDonalds had not been prompt in pledging allegiance to the new monarchs, William and Mary. Another forty women and children died of exposure after their homes were burned.

~7~
The 1745 Uprising
1745

The Jacobite rising of 1745 was the attempt by Charles Edward Stuart to regain the British throne for the exiled House of Stuart. The rising occurred during the War of the Austrian Succession when most of the British Army was on the European continent. Charles Edward Stuart, commonly known as “Bonnie Prince Charlie” or “the Young Pretender”, sailed to Scotland and raised the Jacobite standard at Glenfinnan in the Scottish Highlands, where he was supported by a gathering of Highland clansmen. The march south began with an initial victory at Prestonpans near Edinburgh. The Jacobite army, now in bold spirits, marched onwards to Carlisle, over the border in England. When it reached Derby, some British divisions were recalled from the Continent and the Jacobite army retreated north to Inverness.

which culminated at

~8~
The Battle of Culloden
16 April 1746

The Battle of Culloden was the final confrontation of the Jacobite rising of 1745 and part of a religious civil war in Britain. On 16 April 1746, the Jacobite forces of Charles Edward Stuart fought loyalist troops commanded by William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, near Inverness in the Scottish Highlands.

Culloden
by Andrew Lang

Dark, dark was the day when we looked on Culloden
And chill was the mist drop that clung to the tree,
The oats of the harvest hung heavy and sodden,
No light on the land and no wind on the sea.

There was wind, there was rain, there was fire on their faces,
When the clans broke the bayonets and died on the guns,
And ’tis Honour that watches the desolate places
Where they sleep through the change of the snows and the suns.

Unfed and unmarshalled, outworn and outnumbered,
All hopeless and fearless, as fiercely they fought,
As when Falkirk with heaps of the fallen was cumbered,
As when Gledsmuir was red with the havoc they wrought.

Ah, woe worth you, Sleat, and the faith that you vowed,
Ah, woe worth you, Lovat, Traquair, and Mackay;
And woe on the false fairy flag of Macleod,
And the fat squires who drank, but who dared not to die!

Where the graves of Clan Chattan are clustered together,
Where Macgillavray died by the Well of the Dead,
We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather
That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped.

And a whisper awoke on the wilderness, sighing,
Like the voice of the heroes who battled in vain,
“Not for Tearlach alone the red claymore was plying,
But to bring back the old life that comes not again.”

~9~
Sabina Spielrein
1885-1942

Sabina Spielrein was a Russian physician and one of the first female psychoanalysts. She was in succession the patient, then student, then colleague of Carl Gustav Jung, with whom she had an erotic relationship during 1908-1910, closely documented in their correspondence from the time and her diaries. She also met, corresponded, and had a collegial relationship with Sigmund Freud. One of her more famous analysands was the Swiss developmental psychologist, Jean Piaget. She worked as a psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, teacher and paediatrician in Switzerland and Russia.

In a thirty-year professional career, she published over 35 papers in three languages (German, French and Russian), covering psychoanalysis, developmental psychology, psycholinguistics and educational psychology. Her best known and perhaps most influential published work in the field of psychoanalysis is the essay titled “Destruction as the Cause of Coming Into Being”, written in German in 1912. Although Spielrein has been mainly remembered on account of her relationship with Jung, she is now increasingly recognized as an important and innovative thinker who was marginalized in history because of her unusual eclecticism, refusal to join factions, feminist approach to psychology, and her death in the Holocaust.

Sabina Spielrein’s relationship with Carl Jung was explored in the motion picture ‘A Dangerous Method’:

and

~10~
An Unearthly Child
5:16pm, 23 November 1963

Doctor Who first appeared on BBC TV at 17:16:20 GMT, eighty seconds after the scheduled programme time, 5:15 pm.

And now it’s over to you. What are some of your favourite historical moments?

Ten places I’d love to visit…

~1~
Newfoundland, Canada

Sadly, I didn’t have the opportunity to visit Newfoundland during my Canadian odyssey in 2000. But no matter, it gives me an excuse to return to this magical land to explore this rugged, inspirational province in greater depth and detail.

~2~
Rome, Italy

I’m jealous of Louise, my first girlfriend, because she’s been to Rome. Grace, too, has spent time in the Italian capital. Up until this point in my life I haven’t had the opportunity. But I’m damn sure that at some point in my life I will. I’m determined of that fact.

~3~
Shetland Islands, Scotland

During my month-long sabbatical in Scotland in 1999 I wanted to go to Shetland, but couldn’t afford the ferry cost, given I was a poverty-stricken backpacker. One day, I’m determined to visit these far-flung isles, especially after seeing them light up the screen in the television series Shetland.

~4~
Machu Picchu, Peru

Like Rome, I have long wished to walk the grounds of Machu Picchu. One day I will make it to Peru to do so. And I will take in the majestic table mountains whilst I’m there! :)

~5~
Barcelona, Spain

During my hospital stay earlier this year my support worker brought me the Lonely Planet guide to Spain to keep me entertained. She knows how important it is for me to visit this cultural, gastronomical, mecca. And like all the other places in this list, I’m sure one day I will!

~6~
Grand Teton National Park, USA

Sare, a blogging friend, sent me a postcard from this location when she visited it a few years ago. Said postcard takes up pride of place on my fridge, beckoning me to visit every time I go to get some milk. One day I shall.

~7~
Isle of Barra, Scotland

One of the few islands in the chain that makes up the Outer Hebrides that I haven’t visited. I’ve always wanted to.

~8~
Antarctica

I’ve been fascinated with Antarctica since I was a young wee thing. I think because I’m pathologically drawn to cold, desolate locations.

~9~
Paris

A city I’ve wanted to visit since it featured prominently in the Doctor Who story City of Death. When Highlander also filmed in this magical city, I was determined to visit it one day. Something I probably should have done whilst living in the UK, as it’s quite a journey from Australia! :)

and

~10~
Shakespeare and Company, Paris

And whilst in Paris I would have to visit this quaint, beautiful bookshop. Which is, without question, the only bookshop I have dreamt of visiting.

What about you? What places on Earth would you most like to visit? And why do they burn so bright in your mind?

[NSFW] Butt is it Art or Porn III: The Spanking Art Edition

Today’s prompt in the 30 Day Self Harm Awareness Challenge asks
What is something that makes you the most happy?

This post isn’t going to be for everyone. Some of you may look upon it and think oooo, I’m getting all sorts of fuzzy warm feelings inside, whilst others will look upon it and think that’s absolutely disgusting, I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to this deviant! But that’s kinda the point. It’s meant to be divisive. It’s meant to create debate.

Now I’ll be honest. I didn’t actually write this post. This post is a collaboration between two of my voices, Meadhbh and Shay, but the topic, the content of this post, makes me blissfully happy. That’s why they wrote it. Whilst lost to the flashback and nightmare earlier this week, Meadhbh and Shay took it upon themselves to create something that would make me happy, something that would fill me with the aforementioned fuzzy warm feelings. They didn’t post it straight away because they didn’t want to upset me, they didn’t want to put something out there if I wasn’t comfortable with it being in the public domain, but after careful consideration, and after seeing the prompt for today’s installment of the 30 Day Self Harm Awareness Challenge, I’ve decided to post it and see what happens.

So I will now hand you over to Meadhbh and Shay, who have put together a collection of artwork that depicts a most heartwarming bottomwarming of activities, to ask the question butt is it art or porn?

Under normal circumstances I would password protect this post. However, Meadhbh is not a fan of password protection, so we have reached a compromise. I will post it without a password under the proviso that this warning is inserted: family members of Addy, I politely request that you read no further! Thank you! :)

Ten works of art that have changed my life…

In today’s installment of the Ten Times to Be Happy Challenge we turn our attention to works of art – paintings, film, television, books, music etc. – and look at which ones have had a particularly life-altering impact on my life. Starting with the obvious…

~1~
Doctor Who (1963-Present)

My love affair with Doctor Who began during the show’s twenty-fifth anniversary, when I watched the story The Greatest Show in the Galaxy. Little did I know then that this television series would go on to become one of the most important works of art in my life.

For twenty-seven years now this show has been the source of tremendous comfort, inspiration and excitement. It has soothed my soul through countless depressive episodes, been there to support me when I’ve contemplated suicide and stood by me during periods of intense self harm.

For two-thirds of my life I have had the good Doctor and his assortment of companions to guide me through life’s ups and downs. I seriously couldn’t comprehend my life without Doctor Who. It is in my blood. It is part of my DNA. And I will love it until my final, dying breath.

And now a flashback to 1988, and a clip from the very first Doctor Who story that I remember watching:

~2~
Quest for a Kelpie (1986)

It began, as far as I was concerned, with the fight.

At midday one Friday, about the beginning of September 1743, a month before my tenth birthday, my mother called me in. As there had been no fishing for a week because of storms, there was no fish to take up the country, and I had a bit leisure to play with my little brother Isaac and the twins. Not Ellen, of course. She had her own friends, always.

“Come in, Jeannie,” mam called. “Away over with your dad’s bite. You can take the wee one with you, an’ be sure he takes no harm. Now mind an’ dinna spill it or I’ll skelp you.”

“Aye, mam,”I said. I knew fine she wouldn’t – if anybody skelped me it would be my dad.

How did this work of art change me? This book made me want to be a writer. What more can I say?

~3~
Psycho (1960)

This filmed changed my understanding of what great cinema is. Before I watched it I was gorging on a diet of Hollywood blockbusters and cheesy romantic comedies. Until I watched this, film was just a sugary snack, something to munch on when you felt depressed. But watching this masterpiece of direction made me realise that film didn’t have to be a snack, it could be a hearty main meal. This film set me off on a journey that took in some of the great artists of motion picture history; Welles, Altman, Truffaut, Wilder, to name but a few. This film began my love affair with Hitchcock, a relationship that has been ongoing for twenty odd years now. It changed the way I viewed film, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

~4~
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (1998)

Is a video game a work of art? Let’s end this insipid date here and now: of course it is! And this video game, this inspirational, incredible, breathtaking journey, is without question, without argument or debate, the greatest video game ever made. From the moment I placed the cartridge into my trusty N64 back in 1998 I was blown away by the commitment put into this work of art by its talented team. The graphics, the music, the design, the everything!

This is one of those journey’s that you simply have to take in life, so if you haven’t already done so, do it now. Stop reading this blog post this very second and travel to your nearest video game store, pick up a 3DS and copy of the game, and play it immediately. You will not be disappointed.

~5~
One Tree Hill (2003-2012)

In late 2010 I had been sleeping rough for eighteen months. Throughout that long, brutal period of time there was little in my life worth writing home about. Joy, happiness, inspiration…everything had deserted me. It was just me, surviving through each horrible, endless day. Then a homeless service offered me a place in a boarding house. I jumped at the chance to get off the streets and merrily made my way to the northern suburbs of Melbourne to check out my new ‘home’. It was a cupboard. There were no windows. No natural light. But it was a room to sleep in. A chance to get off the streets.

Shortly after moving in, depression took hold. I found it difficult to rouse myself from bed, spending entire days laying face down in my cupboard, unable to summon any strength for normal, day-to-day activities. I took solace in a succession of DVDs that I’d borrowed from the local library. Veronica Mars, 24, Supernatural, all were devoured as time-killing measures, all acted as white noise for my pointless existence. Until I placed into the drive the first disc of season one of One Tree Hill. Within six episodes I was hooked. Within one season I was a rabid fan.

I fell head over heels in love with the lives and adventures of the high-schoolers of Tree Hill. Peyton became an object of intense lust and admiration. Hayley, and her singing, soothed my troubled soul. Whilst I promptly decided that, were it possible to date fictional characters, Brooke would be my soul mate. But it was the shows writing that enticed me more than my carnal desiring of its female stars. Episode after episode the dialogue and interaction of the characters blew me away, with entire episodes devoted to exploring character and their relationships. Something I had never seen in a television show before.

After watching four seasons back to back, I left my cupboard for the first time in four weeks, desperate for seasons five and six. Watching that show provided me with a renewed zest for life. It inspired me to return to writing. It forced me to reevaluate my decisions and where I was heading. Without One Tree Hill I would be dead. I’m not saying that to be over dramatic, I’m saying it because it’s true. One Tree Hill saved me from myself. And for that, I will forever worship and adore Mark Schwahn’s poignant creation.

Not my top 10 One Tree Hills scenes, but the top 10 scenes of a fellow YouTuber:

~6~
The Pioneer (1904)

This is my favourite painting of all time. I first saw it not long after arriving in Australia, whilst exploring the lengthy hallways of the National Gallery of Victoria. From my first viewing of this intricate, soulful piece of art, I was transfixed. I wanted to know more about the couple, about their life and family. I wanted to know how they survived each day and what drove them toward a better, brighter future.

When I became homeless in 2007 it took on an even deeper meaning, for I could relate to the various stages of their life. The first panel with them sleeping rough, dreaming of a better future, was exactly how I felt during those first months of being homeless. Whereas the second panel, and the start of the couples family, reflected my own dream of family and togetherness. Whilst the grief (and change) reflected in the third panel mirrored the changes and grief that I knew would follow me throughout my life.

It is a magnificent piece of art and, in my humble opinion, should be regarded alongside the Mona Lisa or The Kiss.

~7~
Memory and Dream (1994)

But that’s what we all are – just stories. We only exist by how people remember us, by the stories we make of our lives. Without the stories, we’d just fade away.

How did 50pence change my life? It’s not a huge amount of money, it’s pretty negligible, if truth be told. But in late 2001, my life was changed by this paltry amount of money.

I was perusing a charity shop in Inverness, on my way to work another tedious shift at the YHA, when I saw Memory and Dream peeking at me from the bookcase. It was only 50pence, a bargain, so I took it to the counter and purchased it immediately. The author, a Canadian, had been recommended to me by my friend Deborah, and I had been on the lookout for him for months, so finding such a bargain was a stroke of good fortune.

That night at work, given it was quiet because of the off-season, I settled down to read my new purchase. Within minutes I was spellbound. Charles de Lint has a way with words that few other writers can match. He is lyrical, spinning wondrous stories populated by charismatic, compassionate characters. You genuinely care about the people de Lint writes about. They get under your skin. They make your heart hurt.

But it’s not just because Memory and Dream is a remarkable story that it makes this list. No. Memory and Dream did something no other book had ever done. It made me realise that there was a market for the sorts of stories that my soul wanted to tell. I was forever blending the mythical and magical with the humdrum of contemporary life, but until I read Memory and Dream, I didn’t realise there was a name for it; Urban Fantasy.

That’s how 50pence changed my life.

~8~
The Virgin Spanking the Christ Child before Three Witnesses (1926)

This painting used to fascinate me when I was younger. I was drawn to it by the vibrant colours, sharp angles and subject matter. For better or worse, this piece of art has probably changed my life more than any other, for it was instrumental in setting me off on my journey with kink; a journey that I have been traversing for over thirty years now.

~9~
The Stamping Ground (2001)

The first single I ever brought was Naked, by British pop starlet Louise. A particularly loathsome piece of music that I purchased only because my teenage self wanted to imagine Louise stark naked. The first album I ever brought was Naked, by British pop starlet Louise. A particularly loathsome collection of music that I purchased only because my teenage self wanted to imagine Louise stark naked. But the first album I brought that actually resonated with me, that I brought for reasons other than teenage lust, was Runrig’s The Stamping Ground. And it blew my mind. There was actually music out there that spoke to me, that made my soul sing and my heart quiver. Runrig has gone on to become my favourite musical act of all time. Their songs resonate within me more than any other. Their music has formed the soundtrack of my life. Without them, I wouldn’t be Addy.

My favourite song from the album The Stamping Ground, performed live in 2014:

and

~10~
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003)

Little did I know that wintry January day that reading a magazine would change my life. I was browsing the shelves of Forbidden Planet, a comic and genre store in Cardiff, when I picked up the latest issue of SFX. Flicking through the pages I stumbled upon a review for a brand spanking new television series called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The review was favorable so I decided to keep an eye out for it.

A few days later I was flicking through the various television channels when I came upon an episode of the said television series. It was the fourth episode – Teacher’s Pet – so I watched it to see if I agreed with the magazine review. I did. I was taken by the characters, the sparkling dialogue and blend of fantasy and reality. So it became weekly viewing and, by the end of the first season, I was obsessed.

Like Doctor Who, Buffy has changed my life because it saw me through some of the trickiest, more painful, chapters of my life. It was there for me during the loneliness and depression of post-school life. It was there for me when I decided to take a chance and go traveling. And it was there for me when I made the even bigger decision to emigrate to Australia.

But after it played an integral part of my abusive relationship, I wasn’t able to watch Buffy. It became a trigger for me. A source of pain and frustration. An endless reminder of the trauma my abuser had put me through. For years I wanted to watch it, but couldn’t. And I thought it would be relegated to the dusty archives of my life; the show I used to cherish but can no longer relish. But earlier this year I decided to face my trigger head on. I missed Buffy. I missed Willow and Tara. I missed the sage-like advice of Giles. So I curled up with some chocolate and endeavored to watch every episode; to relive one of the greatest television journeys ever made. It did trigger me, I’ll be honest about that, but I got through it. All 144 episodes were watched, all 144 episodes were enjoyed. And I found my love of this show hadn’t dwindled.

It will, like Doctor Who and One Tree Hill, remain one of the most influential television series of my life.

A fan’s collection of favourite Buffy the Vampire Slayer moments. let’s be honest. All moments are awesome!

So there we have it. Ten works of art, picked out of millions, that have changed my life. But what about you? What works of art have changed your life for the better (or worse)? I’d love to know! :)

Discombobulated…

It’s been a brutal, unforgiving, bitch of a week. As expected, everything has gravitated around the anniversary of my rape, with much of my week spent in a hellish realm of flashback and nightmare; constantly reliving and re-experiencing the torment and pain I was put through eight years ago. Pretty much every waking moment has been spent in the past. I’ve tried to stop myself. I’ve tried to bring myself back to the present. But despite my best efforts to ground myself, nothing has worked. My brain has stubbornly refused to let me have some peace, comfort and happiness.

It’s been exhausting, to be honest. Living in the past when all you want to do is survive the present is a tiring, uncomfortable place to be. I feel disconnected from the world. Unable to latch on to anything, unable to connect to anyone. When I go for a walk to the supermarket I know I’m walking, because I can feel the earth beneath my feet, but my brain is elsewhere, my mind a haze of confusion unable to visualize or smell the world around me. Because my brain is in Adelaide, being ravaged and invaded by an uncompromising stranger. However much I want to participate in the world, I can’t, because my mind steadfastly refuses to allow me the cognitive ability to do so. To say I feel discombobulated (I love this word) would be an understatement.

One thing I am proud of though is that I didn’t turn to alcohol and I didn’t self harm. Usually the 7th July is a day spent in an alcoholic stupor as I hack at myself with knife and blade. It’s what I did last year. It’s what I did every year before that. But this year I worked hard to not turn to such outlets. I blogged my happiness challenge in the morning. I wrote my post about the event in the afternoon. And the evening was spent watching Doctor Who whilst eating chocolate (throw in a beautiful woman to snuggle with and that’s my idea of heaven!) before having an early night with my book. I remember lying in bed, waiting for the nightmares to start, smiling to myself about how awesome I was about not self harming that day. It may not sound like much to some, but it is these small victories I should be celebrating! :)

As for my voices, Meadhbh, as always, was a wonder. She took it upon herself to whisper inspirational sayings to me throughout the day. She told me I was beautiful. She told me I was amazing. She told me I was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. She did everything she could to make my 7th July easier. Audrey, too, was comforting and supportive. She pestered me to play Lego Batman at one point, but I was too disconnected, too removed from reality to focus on the fictional world. So instead I asked her help with editing and writing my post about the rape, something she threw herself into with aplomb, voicing her opinion on what I was writing and offering suggestions on how to improve what I was saying. Even Shay, who is usually a right prick on anniversaries, was strangely supportive. He and Meadhbh wrote a blog post (that has yet to be published, because it’s a bit naughty!) to cheer me up – and cheer me up it did! Vanessa, meanwhile, was the same vicious, abusive c-bomb that she usually is on my nightmare days. Barely a minute went by when she wasn’t telling me that I deserved what happened, that it should happen again, repeatedly, and I deserve nothing in my life bar pain and misery. Meadhbh took umbridge, of course, but didn’t argue. She knew if she did it would make things worse for me, so she just soothed with her inspirational words and kinky sense of humor.

Because my week has been such a cycle of PTSD, anxiety and depression I haven’t been to the gym this week. I’m not beating myself up about it. It’s been a tough week and I’ve had enough to deal with without my self-esteem ganging up on me too. I just decided to focus on my mental well-being this week rather than my physical well-being. It’s true that the gym might have taken my mind off of everything, but being so disconnected, so discombobulated (I really love this word!) it’s possible that throwing body dysmorphic issues into the mix would have broken me. And I feel broken enough already! So my plan is to resume my gym going next week. I may go tomorrow if I’m feeling up to it, if I’m feeling able to deal with it, but I’m not going to beat myself up if I don’t. Hopefully people will understand this and not see me as a failure.

Other than all of this (which, let’s be honest, is pretty heavy stuff) I’ve just allowed my normal boring, monotonous routine to rule this week. It wouldn’t have been a good idea to challenge my normality in a week already fraught with pain and chaos. It’s been nice. Tweeting and blogging in the morning, movie in the afternoon. I’ve watched a few good ones. Teeth, a film about vagina dentata was an excellent coming of age comedy-horror. A Dangerous Method, starring Kiera Knightley, had everything I ask for in a film (as well as the occasional spanking, which is only a good thing!) Whilst Oculus was the best horror film I’ve seen since The Descent. I’m enjoying tweeting again and it’s nice getting the feedback from my Facebook page (which you can join here!) each day. I haven’t acquired many likes yet, but it’s early days, so I’m not allowing it to depress me just yet.

I’m hoping this disconnection doesn’t last too much longer. Usually, around my anniversaries, the disconnection and discombobulation (I really, really love this word!) last a few days before and a few days after. It’s always worse on the actual day but I think it takes time to build up and leave my system. Hopefully by the weekend things will be back to normal in my mind, as it makes everything, including writing, so much more difficult. How can you focus on writing when your brain is eight years in the past? So apologies for the disconnected style of this post. It’s just my stupid brain!

Wishing you and those you love a wonderful, happy, peaceful day. Hopefully it’s more grounded and present than mine!

Meadhbh helped choose the music today. She’s in a Scottish instrumental sort of mood. Hope you enjoy!

Sorting fact from fiction on self-harm

Today’s prompt in the 30 Day Self Harm Awareness Challenge asks
Do you know any statistics about self harm?

The only self harm statistics that I know come from this infographic from the Australian organisation Headspace:

~ Click image to enlarge ~