Christmas Week 2023

It's Monday the 18th of December. I'm on the bus, looking out of the window and contemplating the end of the year. 

I'm not sure I want my life to be the same for another 365 days. 

Winter keeps me cooped up for far too long in it's dark damp corner. The bus hums through me, reminding me of how difficult change is. To what extent do I want to change my life?

I've done the meditation and gratitude route. What is my next one? Reigniting a blown out flame? Digging out the courage I know I have inside me? I've used a couple of those. How many more are left? It feels deeply buried in black freezing cold mud. 

Slowly growing it under a cold starry night with the sound of the ocean around me and the moon enveloping me seems a possible way. 

Love,

Wonder Woman XXX 

History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund

I just finished A History of Wolves. 

Right now I feel like a deep cool lake, taking in the scenery of the woods around me. The darkness below, a gentle tugging. The pale sun barely warming the surface. 

The day I opened the book, I plunged in head first into Linda's world in the backwoods of northern Minnesota. 

When a young family moves into a cabin across the lake, she threads her way into their day to day life. Her loneliness pushes it's way beneath their secrets. 

A novel not to miss for sure. Brilliantly written with a haunting beauty that seeps into the bones.

☆☆☆☆☆

The Day I Realised That Scientology is a Cult

Nine and a half years ago, I woke up one day and realised that I was in a cult.

It felt like surfacing from a deep dive with the sun glaring down at me and my ears ringing loudly. 

Everything felt too bright, too loud and too real. Leaving felt impossible. 

I started reading Mike Rinder's blog Something Can Be Done About it under my blanket. Realising that exScientologists were able to make a life away from it felt so freeing. 

On the outside, my life seemed perfectly fine. I went from a wife, staff member, good Scientologist to plotting my escape. 

I had many experiences that now I would consider as abuse, but I’ll leave them for another blog.

One main culty behaviour is keeping its members so busy that they can barely think for themselves. 

I remember one day, when I was looking out of the window. I was admiring a beautiful day with the sun shinning and the sea sparkling. 

A small part of me wanted to be out there enjoying the day. Behind that window pane, all I could think about was sales, not getting in trouble and being on purpose. 

There were times when I did realise the manipulation tactics behind the so called religion and certain individuals within the organisation. 

 With my ex being in the organisation and not really knowing anyone, I felt trapped. 

The cult has a tendency to man-handle it's members who try to leave. 

Not to bore you with the details, here's an example. 

One Thursday after 2pm, I broke the news to the director (ED) that we came 2nd place in a book sales game. She lost it and started shouting at me while accusing me of having O/Ws (Doing something bad/keeping the bad thing to yourself).

She started dragging me towards the Org's auditor and have me put on the cans so that all those terrible things I've apparently done can be extracted from me.

I was holding onto the door for dear life and shouting back at her that I haven't done anything wrong, and for help. 

The director started removing one finger at a time from the edge of the door. She squeezed my arms so hard that they were bruised.

Sometime later, I was told to go home. The next day I was forced to recant my sins on the emeter behind a locked door. 

I'm sure there are worse stories out there and my heart goes out to them. Back to my escape plan.

The day I got a job was the day my escape plan started. 

Three months later, I was sleeping on a new bed, with a burner phone by myside and a sense of freedom ( and anxiety ) washing over me.

Looking back, I don't regret it. 

Wonder Woman XXX

You're a Hottie!

 That's what an ex told me after a date. He was the first guy I dated since my divorce. It was exciting, thrilling and fun.

One thing no one told me a few months into my 40th birthday was how single I was going to feel. How much of a failure I felt. And how having a midlife crises made my insides liquify into the deep layers of hell. 

The pandemic didn't help much either. 

All those societal pressures:

* Having a partner

*Having kids

*Having a successful career - whatever that means

*Having a home

All I ever wanted was to be myself. Why do I have to be serious to be a grown up? That never made any sense to me. So weird. Adulting can be scaring, but so can acting like who you're expected to be. F that. 

One of the worst things of getting older is the expectations of having kids. If you get the question as much as I do, you know exactly how it feels.

Having an unfulfilling 9 - 5 job fuelled the 'what the heck am I doing with my life' thoughts even more. To pull myself out of this, I go back to what I love. Writing. 

I'm going to leave you here on a not so blank page and fall into writing a spooky story for kids.

Have a super chilled Sunday. 💋  

Amber Days 6

                                           Chapter 6

It was two O'clock in the morning. Berta could feel herself aging again. The brief joy she felt earlier that night lasted her a lifetime. Her next kill had to be younger. The energy she would absorb from a younger body would last much longer. 

The hours drifted like the faint memories of her youth. A moving truck jarred her back to the present. She checked her trusty Omega. It was twenty minutes past six.

On the sofa, she lay down to catch up with her sleep. When the sun rose higher and the shadows lengthened, she got ready for an exciting day.

A fresh batch of cookie dough was whipped up. She added her secret ingredient and started making balls. She filled two trays and placed them in the oven. When the timer pinged, Berta turned the oven off. The cookies were cooling on a rack by the time her new neighbours had settled down. 

The Potters had sat down for lunch when three knocks brought their attention to the door. Stella Potter returned her fork and knife to their resting place before going to get the door. 

Berta straightened her back and smiled.

"Hello there! Don't mind me disturbing your lunch. I'm dropping off some freshly backed cookies I made earlier to welcome you to the street."

A black car screeched to a halt. DI Shard fell out of it in his rush to get out. Straightening his legs, he placed himself between her and Stella.

Amber Days 5

                                                               Chapter 5

Detective Inspector Shard was hunched over a table next to the head of security in the Hilton Metropole. 

"Stop! Right there! Who is she?"

He sipped on his cold coffee. 

"She was here last night. I don't remember seeing her leave."

Caleb rubbed his eyes. It was two hours past the end of his shift. 

"Alright. Take me up to the victim's room." 

The stood up and Caleb showed him the way. 

Amber Days 4

                                                                 Chapter 4

The taxi weaved it's way through the afternoon rush hour. Berta straightened her long red silk dress. The reflection of her face was one of a much younger Berta. Today, she was thirty years old and she was on the hunt. 

Strolling through the Metropole Bar on King Street, every head turned. Her hair was golden and fell in perfect waves down her back. 

An older man in his fifties winked at her. He approached her with his hands in his pockets, undressing her with his eyes. 

"What's your poison?"

She smiled and touched a long pendant that emphasised her cleavage. 

"White wine."

The bar tender poured their drinks and went back to polishing glasses.  

The man leaned against the bar. His wedding ring glinted in the reflection of her white wine. 

He threw back the single malt before touching her shoulder. 

"Come upstairs with me?"

She smiled and touched the pendant again.

"Show me the way."

Her hand loosened the tiny stopper on the pendant. It was going to be a great night.