Reweaving

I’m growing potatoes, tomatoes, carrots courgettes and onions,

I’m painting my house and tiling my bathroom,

I’m drinking red wine in a pub in Cardiff with women who don’t demand my identity card and talking about politics and life in a way that makes sense to us and doesn’t line specific shape boxes

I’m listening to Leonard Cohen and Tom McRae and Tori Amos and Bruce Springsteen and Tanita Tikaram with my head thrown back and my eyes closed in ecstasy,

I’m watching over worthy programs on TV or complete cheap space filling tat nothing in between hits the spot.

I’m watching Buffy over and over again.

I’m reading like I’m thirsty for words making inroads in the shelves of unread books about feminism, politics, god, poetry, sexuality, disability.

I’m lying on the floor with my dog doing nothing for hours,

I’m sorting books in a charity shop once a week

I’m working with people who need people, I’m not campaigning for money, I’m just putting one foot in front of the other.

I’m looking for Sophia, the female aspect of Abraham’s god, while reweaving the old laws into something bendable made out of love.

I’m having long hot bubble baths, I’m covering my skin in moisturiser because I like the feel and the self attention.

I’m propelling myself through the water, teaching my broken body to utilise its self in ways it wasn’t designed for, building muscles in my upper body that will do for me what my legs wont.

I’m writing letters, and making phone calls and trekking cross country to spend time with women who love me.

I’m learning to live with my wounds.

I’m talking on the phone for hours with the most nurturing person I know and sharing with him, laughter love, knowledge, poetry, pointless humanities and flirtations,

I’m making peace with all the people who didn’t come back for me, or who didn’t come back the way I wanted them too.

I’m learning to eat when I’m hungry and stop when I’m full but accepting maybe I’ll never get this food thing right.

I’m weaving my body together with the man I come back to, over and over again, and who loves me absolutely although too many of you don’t believe this.

I’m looking for myself in this mesh of life we have to live in.

I’m here, just being honest, Just being J

I’ve been neglecting the Internet of late, well not exactly neglecting it, I spend hours on it avoiding my life, I just neglect the bits where i could make connections, write and read stuff that matters

and It comes to me that I’m angry, I’m angry about so so many things both personal and political, but I don’t deal with anger, i swallow it down, literally I swallow it, I eat when I’m angry, and not good healthy life/body fueling food either, but crap, sugar and preservative laden crap,  and i drink caffeinated fizzy drinks, gallons of it, which I know is bad for me, the anger turns inwards as it always has done and I sabotage my body, my health, my life, my time, my relationships.

and I’m angry at so many things, I’m angry at the state of feminism, either complete apathy or the increasingly poisonous hypocritical siege mentality of the internet “radfems” and that although i have massive issues with them there is heartbreak at realising that they don’t want me, that they are edging me out because I am the wrong sort of feminist.

I’m angry that the only faith community I can currently access is full of whackjobs many of whom are anti everything I stand for and I don’t know what to do about that because I need a faith community but I also need people who accept me as i am without me hiding or lying about who I am, on a wider level I am angry that the message of Jesus has got so perverted that myself and people like me are seen as unacceptable. I also have major issues with much of christian theology generally but that’s a whole nother post.

I’m angry abut my family situation, that I was adopted by a pair of abusive fuckwits, because they were seen to be the epitome of middle class respectibility, that I needed to be adopted in the first place that society damaged my mother and grandmother so much that they were incapable of bonding, that my parents were so poor that my father went to prison for theft when trying to feed his family, that the holocaust damage my paternal grandmother so badly that she passed that damage down to my father and made him incapable of bonding with his children.

I’m angry that I have been so wounded by this patriarchal capitalist society that it broke my brain, that the after effects of rape and abuse will be with me for ever and make my life much harder than it would have been otherwise. that very possible my infertility issues are caused by the body trauma of these events, and while mostly I am okay about being infertile sometimes it does hurt and it does make me angry.

I’m angry that I live in an increasingly crippled body, which is no ones fault and something I need to learn to be at peace with but the fact that society ignores my needs is someones fault and it pisses me off.

My anger boils over till it freezes, till I am turned to stone, indeed petrified, cannot move, cannot act for fear of blowing a hole in the roof of the world, and what I want to do with my life gets abandoned in case the anger seeps through into it

I went through a phase about  five years ago where I learnt to channel my anger into an incredibly powerful healing force that really propelled me forward in my development but somewhere along the way (probably at uni, when I was working extremely hard to appear “normal”) I squashed it back down, sat on it,made it taboo again, but when I was acknowledging that anger, dealing with it, utilising it, that was the time in my life when I was my calmest, healthiest, most creative

I want to read more, I want to read and write poetry, I want to grow vegetables, I love cooking, I want to go swimming, I want to develop a deep meditation/prayer life, i want to learn to utilise my body in ways that work for me personally, I want to develop a more healthy sexuality, I want to do more practical political activism

One of the things about my anger is somewhere inside I think i have a thing going on that still thinks life should be about fairness, like the people who did the things to cause the anger should fix my life which is clearly ridiculous. It doesn’t matter who broke it or why it broke, no one is going to fix it for me, I have to deal with the anger and fix it the best I can myself.