Thursday, March 22, 2012

a dog's life and no denying it

The fire is lit, the small chihuahuas are asleep (they do not count as dogs), i have a cup of tea.
I am jaded.
Many words would express my feelings about life and Ireland.  I think what i have to say and what i feel is pertinent to Ireland, and pertinent to the Irish dynamic that weighs back to the time we had to pit wit against the enemy.
we have enemies for sure and we have lost the pitbull will to face these, so in our insular, comfortable state and cosiness of armchairs we pit the bull against our own kit and kin.
This i say is Irish.  It speaks of ignorance and lack of both emotional intelligence and fairness.
its the shrewd way of getting the exact response which will  make you feel a bit better around your argument, even if the argument isn't a good one.
its the cunning that the Irish is known for, and boy i have received it in spades, that awful, awful feeling that yet again i as an individual have been 'taken out' because, those who can do so, do it.

Here i do not speak that i am any holy saint for i am not.  He who casts the first before i throw rocks (not from the water feature i am making in a garden), i will say that i have rocks shored up of vices and nastiness that i do have i guess, certainly i am wrong a lot of the time, but jaysus surely i couldn't be wrong all the time?
so hence i say, why the feck has Ann been at the receiving end of so much.

where can i begin to hurl the rocks?
the medics who still leave me in virtual wards before they ever speak to me, why? Cos i have tram track trauma blade marks all the way up both arms and parts of my thighs and belly.
they let me out of hospital too soon, they didn't believe me when i say i was unwell.
my wound burst.
they send me home and say it is all anxiety when i cannot walk (for gods sake, has this happened anywhere but in holy ireland i wanna ask?)
I then do not get treated unless i am assessed by a shrink, yes, i have been left waiting for a shrink to come back from hols before i am treated for physical complaints - how many people have been treated thus?
I have been threatened with ect, nasal gastric tubing and more besides, the first well, they couldn't but they threatened, the second cos i physically released a build up of bile when my crohn's caused a blockage.
and so in that arena i am continuing to suffer and be terrified, will the next A&E visit actually see me die unnecessarily due to my tram-tracks of yesteryear?
and also now, after a bunch of horror years i have been attacked, by children with guns, and told its again all in the mind, even when i have the photo to prove it, ah sure that not a gun!
it was, and remains a gun, it was a gun!
we had men jumping walls to attack me, and i am asked what did i do to make them!
well the corpo spray painted their car parking bays away from them without telling them, and they took it out on me, for the corpo wanted to give me a disabled parking bay, but did i ask for them to do it over their dead bodies or mine.
it was nearly mine and i nearly had the housing unit i was to occupy burnt down before i ever went into it cos if the corpo gave me another persons bay he was going to torch all three units, period.
no nonsense, like.
so out came the guns after that and me being told to get back to where i belonged, well i would have gladly if i had known where that was or is.
we cobble together a way to get me out of danger and the council nor the hse, that is our health service were able to get me out, cos the council wouldn't and the hse couldn't.
i do what i could and did.
i left, with all my stuff piled onto wheelchairs and into disability van and trip after trip i left.
here is the throwing of the stones, and listen lord they are mighty boulders.
the Mammy's family dear Lord.
Irish mammy's family my dear Lord. Lord hear my prayer for sure as god i hope, that i join you shortly as thats the only way out of continuing hell.
my mammy bred the family as most in Ireland.
there was one eggit in each family called the goat.
I was that goat.  so when you want to win an argument and were not winning you shot the goat, not dead like, but you shot it, again and a gain and again - flogging. Irish style.
and i got flogged.
over and over again, flogged.
so flogged that i fought back, badly - see i have many vices and i have declared them to the lord, but at least i cannot lie so i shot them, them feckless greedy, self serving individuals that my mammy produced.
and they know who they are, the one who said she wished i was dead, the person who was in the psych system who never had a penny who trashed her body, she wished that person dead, why, cos i was that goat, Irish style.
then we had the other who said i wasn't coping and needed sheltered accommodation..this is the one who i asked if she would include me in a cook pot from time to time to help me recuperate from surgery and what do i get - i get cooked.
this is the person who felt i had asked a soup bowl too much.
certainly a fish pie too much cos eventually i got delivered a fish pie to be told 'this is a gesture and nothing more' it was, i saw no fish pie more  nor nothing.
she who knows how to dress a salmon, take out the royal albert and couldn't think christian to help her kit and kin, the one the mammy also produced.
that christian and the other who wished i was dead, go to mass of a sunday.
i dont, why, cos i was abused by a wonderful man, a holy roman catholic priest, nothing less nor more, well actually yes, more but thats another chapter by far.
so where am i at right now in time?
just about on the edge of my armchair, wishing to god that i could go to my Dad, who never harmed me the way the rest of my mammy's children did and continue to.
my dad, my good and lovely dad, i want to be with him.
no one else, absolutely.
but the problem with that is...i dont believe in any more than this shite life so i wont see my dad will i?
nor will i see my two sisters and brothers, my first cousins and my nephews and nieces, cos i am so bloody evil, the evil personified that none visit nor text nor tell me anything.
that my international confraternity of internet friends is called putting a person in solitary and making them suffer cos you can do it, so you do it.
and it happens in the Ryan's daughter Ireland and the Field's ireland and my ireland.
its where you shoot the small guy, doesn't matter how you shoot them, but if you want to be right and proven to be, you blame another, and the only way to be right is to do it this way cos they are not doing it the proper christian way.
The right way is to cherish not only themselves but all, and holding the most vulnerable in their hands.
they are blaming them cos they are too fecking selfish and mean to help a person who honestly could have done with the help they had the ability to offer and didn't.
so to my mammy's children, the children of my mammy's brother and the children of my mammy's children, watch your step, some day not for decades but for maybe a decade or a day, you too can be shot at in the most violent way imaginable and when you are you will feel as lost and as lonely and as sad and depressed as i am tonight, with my two wee chihauhaus, one on either side.
on the lonely sofa where i have always been, on the lonely side of life.
and the killer of me will be that.
the loneliness of a person who has felt so betrayed and continually betrayed by the very people she yearned to feel loved by and wanted to love.
how can i and i doubt if there is any love left after what my family have done to me in the past three years.
i was threatened with complete anihilation if i wrote another blog along these lines again.
anihilate then cos it cannot be any worse.
you have done it already.
you all collectively - the doctors, the pills, the clerics who sexually abused and the mammy's children did this to me.
so cast the stones my christian family when you read this blog.
as for the medics and clerics, the medics are so holy they are the untouchables and will remain that way until someone tells them they are daft naked kings all along and the clerics well they are in worse shit for their boss, the real king has the supreme ability to send them all to fry in hell, if you believe that you believe anything.
shit life, and pretty shit people around i say.

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