Dear Diary....

I have been on a self imposed sabbatical...from technology, from life in some ways. I often times feel the need to do this. It is not calculated or planned at all. It just happens. I must also admit that drinking wine and smoking pot play a part. It is like the rhythms of life, like the in and out of ones breath. Or the beating of the heart. The coming and going of the waves on the beach. There is an expansion followed by a contraction. This is a common theme in my life.

As I come out of this contracted state, I look back and try to understand what prompted it. A lot has transpired in the past months and especially got heated up around my birthday in extremes. I am thankful that I had the sense to warn my mother that there would be a Quatro backlash because of my ' Who cares if my aunt is Suzi Quatro blog." My poor mom was blasted for it, directly and covertly. Ridiculous really, I am a 45 year old woman. If they felt something, they could say it to me. And would be met with my truth, that I can and will share whether they like it or not.

This is yet another theme in my life....people NOT addressing their issues with me to me. Even when my brothers get mad at me they rarely tell me. They just call my mother to tell her I am crazy or whatever. I am not really sure what that is about. Why don't people just deal directly and go to the source? Why do they all go and vomit all over my mother??? It is odd and I do not get it. Sorry Mom that you are somehow always in the line fire, taking bullets intended for me.

I am sure part of this recent Quatro reaction has to do with the fact that my aunts are in process with getting music they recorded a hundred years ago out into the public. That they do not want anything "negative" to be floating around. [ As if their attitudes and attacks are not] It all seems to me to be born of the same 'famous' virus that infects the family. It is all so ass backwards..... based on facade.

I have learned so much from doing this blog. Especially from the comments and responses to it. After years of hiding and trying to be pretty, smart, famous...... I have never been more seen, heard and accepted. As I expose all my warts as honestly as I can. What an amazing verification. And how it flies in the faces of all that other bullshit. It is a sad when ones life is built with a house of cards. I build mine now brick by brick. I fear not the big bad wolf anymore, my house is almost complete.

Yet, the old order will fight as it is doing. It will fight to not be exposed. To keep its mask firmly in place. To hide all its ugly parts that are more human than the ones they elevate to mythical proportions. To legends.....in their own minds. I am not this. Just a girl/woman from Michigan doing the best I can. Sometimes failing miserably, sometimes not.

I believe I have a fear of real power. Not the overpowering in your face one...I am adept at that. But real power based on love.... and in truth. I feel that I was growing a lot before the contraction and got scared on some level. That is why I retreated in to mans land. There was no man or woman or connection in this land. Just days melting into days, weeks into weeks.

I struggle with ways to take a little bit of the edge off. I have been sober at different times in my life but not right now. I like to drink wine. And sometimes smoke pot. But it seems to me that the tail is wagging the dog. It does not help that I have almost chronic back pain from my injury on the set last year but it would be lying to act as if that if the problem.

The problem is much bigger than that. I am not even completely clear WHAT the problem is. I want to spell it out clearly but I realize that I cannot. I suppose a part of it is that I feel things really deeply and it can serve to buffer that. That I do not trust life and get scared when I never know what tomorrow holds. That I try to do too much all the time and sometimes do not know how to unwind.

All of these sound good, reasonable..... But accurate? I don't really know. Then I wonder why do I feel I need a reason. I hold this false belief that when I understand something then I can get beyond it. I realize it may not always be the case. And yet I will still walk down that path at times. Its one of the ways that I lie to myself.

Maybe the beauty is so full and complete that I don't know how to accept it. That it is so foreign to my life experience I fear it will not last and so I put layers between myself and it to shield myself. From the inevitable let down when it all goes pear shaped. When it is all I really want. I am self sabotaging a blissful state of being, a life I have always dreamed of.

I suppose this is another nonsensical rant. It is my way back to writing. I sometimes do not know what to write..... But write I must for it does fill me in a way that nothing else can.

Sending love and light out to the world...

A demon from my childhood still haunts me.in

I dream...... I dream deeply and almost always remember my dreams. I interpret them myself. Not with a book. I feel we can more personally understand our dreams if we are willing to look into them honestly. The symbolism that my dreams show me is startling and poignant and last nights was no different. That is why I must get it out and write it. I am not sure that I am gonna share this..... I will just write it down for now.

Please keep in mind that obviously dreams can be quite fragmented. I will do my best to put the pieces together as cohesively as possible. But again, dreams just kind of jump around. Maybe I will just flow with the dream as it is , then break it down in another blog as I did with my Rachel/Vicky one.

The dream:

I must be pregnant in my dream because my mother is planning a baby shower for me. She has a cold attitude towards me as she does at this moment in my life [not the dream] because I got in a fight with her and unleashed some of my childhood anger onto her. In my dream, she has a friend with her, they say they are going to a movie.

My mother pulls out a tray of feminine bows, crowns, packages for the shower but says she has not planned when and where it will be. I suggest a place. She just has an attitude. As people start to arrive I realize that the party is today, here at our home and was meant to be a surprise. I feel funny because I am not ready, just in sweats or pajamas or something.

I see my brothers dressed up in ties. I ask them are they here for my baby shower. Yes, of course they say. It seems someone dangerous is arriving and my older brother wants to deal with it. So I tell him I will get my gun. As I go into an armoire to get it, now there are two guns. One is very small. The other a bigger hand gun that looks like something Dirty Harry used to carry. I know the small only has two bullets but the bigger one has 6 or eight and is automatic.

As I pull the guns out, a lot of people come to look. They are all intrigued and want to touch the guns. I do not let them. I hand the one to Leo and decide to find a hiding place for the other. As I look for it I see that my house it is in utter disarray. It seems to be under construction or something. I wonder why my family chose to have the party here when the house looked like this. Literally rooms were in the process of being rebuilt.

My third stepfather Gary Stewart, a messed up demon like man arrived at the party. I somehow got my guns back because I knew he was there for me. I knew that I was in danger. He has come to me in other dreams to haunt me and try to hurt me. In fact, he came a few nights before this dream as well. My shrink always says that when one has a dream like this, it is important in the dream that you are fighting. Not just a victim. I am proud to say that I have been fighting him like a formidable banshee in the past few!!!!!

There were two flights of stairs, as I went towards one he went towards the other to try to cut me off. But I was two steps ahead of him intellectually so I made noises as if I was going up them and came back down and quickly hid my two guns so he could not use them on me. I am not sure why I did not just shoot him then and there. It seemed that there was a little game of wits, of cat and mouse happening. I was somewhat surrounded by family, although at this point no one seemed to be coming to my rescue.

I often times would scream for my mother since this was HER significant relationship, hoping she would deal with it but she never came. Not surprising given my childhood. This was my experience time and time again.

When he realized I had duped him, he raced downstairs and actually complimented my moxie. He said that was really smart how I had tricked him that way. Then asked where the guns were. I said hidden from you. He looked around for them but to no avail.

Then Gary grabbed me and took me down stairs to the basement, where I had been relegated to much of my young life. It was like a "last meal" situation. Make no mistake, my life was in danger with this man and I knew it. With his crazy behavior I worried as a child as well.

At a certain point some people came to my rescue. They were supposed to be family of some sort but I did not recognize them. There were three of them and they were youngish men. They came with a bigger, older man who I hoped would stay with them. I knew they did not stand a chance againist Gary.

The older man told me to go. That they would take care of this. I knew they would literally be killed. It was like anyone that came around Hannibal Lecter. You knew it was all over. I just hoped I could survive as Clarice did. The older man came with me, more bad news for the others. Gary sat there calmly, with a sick smile. It was a game to him.

As we tried to climb the dilapidated stairs, all of the sudden had a baby in my arms. I was only looking ahead, plotting exactly what I needed to do next. I would grab the guns and get to my car, put the baby securely in and get away as quick as possible.

As soon as I got to the top and sprinted to escape, I could hear the chaos and death downstairs ensue. It was awful and I felt guilty. I did not know how to help them. I could only help myself and my baby now and get out as quick as possible. The house now seemed deserted. Even the older man behind me was becoming another causality, I could hear his cries too.

Somehow I got us successfully to my car and we took off. I knew this was not the end. It was weird because I woke up a few times in the middle of dreaming and would fall back out and pick up where I had left off. I believe there was such a break here.

Now I was in a kind of a park, on the run. The baby no longer with me. Someone gave me a horse to ride. And so I rode as fast as I could. I did not see Gary behind me at this point but I could feel his presence. I knew this was not over.

It all gets a bit blurry here but what I remember next is that I made my way back to my house. The one under construction. There were people there who I knew and who knew the battle I was in the midst of. I was talking to them. Armed and ready when Gary burst in the door.

This time he was on a horse with full white face and a sort of bizarre, tribal war paint. Very ominous and scary. He methodically got off his horse and came towards me to kill me. I pulled out my bigger gun and shot him a number of times in the chest. He fell to the ground.......

Only a moment of relief because then he got and said that I cannot kill him and pulled out a large sword. Now it really got surreal . I looked at him and said [with a few supporting people around me] no, you are not alive. You are dead. He became kind of translucent and I felt he did not have power over me anymore.... He would appear and disappear.....

Then we did something I had done in my recent inner child workshop. We all put our hands together and declared that we were not releasing all this negative stuff into the cosmos, threw our hands collectively up towards the heavens with a yelp.

WOW>>>>>>>>

And then I awoke......

I have been haunted by it. Trying to understand its meaning....more will be revealed.

Listen to your dreams...... They have great wisdom....

Happy Birthday to me...

I want to share many things and am not sure where to begin. It has been an eventful couple of days to say the least. I guess instead of going into my brain and trying to figure it all out and make it all polished, I will just address each piece as it occurred. This is a sort of diary, ranting entry.

I turned 45 on Feb 1st. It is the first time I allowed there to be many celebrations around it. It was so wonderful as the polarity of life is. It ranged from experiencing feelings of intense hate from a very sad and sick individual who projected much of their unexamined anger onto me in an attempted character assignation. To the polar opposite of being exulted to a queen. Surrounded by many beloved women in my life [they actually gave me a crown albeit an Ariel one [The little mermaid].... and a beautiful Queen plaque from my king, Dylan. One of his many presents for me.

There were actually SO many absolutely beautiful expressions of love for me from my friends. It was a little overwhelming... Gorgeous necklaces, flowers, a framed picture of a family dear to me, a gorgeous silk blouse, an amazing jewelry necklace & earring set from my new found sis [this is a whole other blog], a cozy out of the bath robe, a flapper-like purse black w/ fringe. Even my beautiful 16 year old got me a darling Marilyn Monroe looking top. There were more, but I cannot remember as I write, forgive me sisters....

My man was the most generous. A heart felt statue for my altar of a man, woman and baby. It made me cry. Inspiring stones with meaningful words. My mentioned QUEEN plaque. And the coveted, special anniversary edition, black leather Kooba purse......wow....... I am now complete.....hehehe

Of course the real reason I am so complete is that the love that poured through those close to me was like nothing I have ever felt. I actually allowed myself to receive it for a change. And its like GOD sent these people to all be able to come in and love and support after the siege of darkness. In retrospect it all makes perfect sense now. And I am reminded again of what is important. Love.....

Life is filled with light and dark. Hot and cold. Good and bad. And many like to try to smash what they feel threatened by. But when one has faith in themselves and most importantly in GOD they cannot be hurt. If we just go with whatever life brings us, it is so much more peaceful than deciding how it should look and suffering because it does not. I work on this tenaciously. I just keep walking toward light.....that is my mantra.

It is so rare in my life that things have looked the way I wanted them to. They always look different. I grow from all my experiences, especially the bad ones. So I keep embracing what comes. I do not turn a blind eye, I walk into stuff. Ce moi" !!!! Because if I don't, I know it will not just go away. Too much being swept under the rug creates an amusement park of roller coaster like hills to have to navigate over. I love rides but not that kind.

So we ran the gamut of emotions. And thank GOD the poison, try as it may did not seep in. There is a piece of me that just watched with great pity. Seeing the obvious pain and self hate that had not a damn thing to do with me. SO some prayers were sent out. And I fly away like a bird as I have done so many times in my life.

After living 45 years on the planet, it makes for a lot of life experience. And I am no saint. But I am always able to see my 50 percent and have accountability for it. I am not responsible for the rest. "To err is human, to forgive....divine." Shakespeare. I am adept at both.

"I am may be as bad as the worst, but thank GOD I am as good as the best." W. Whitman.

It sums up the truth of my existence. With much continued work I now see, love and accept myself. Keep refining and not beating myself up for past mistakes. We all have them. Its called being human. But I have never and would never threaten anyone. And for this I see my heart shine through.

So I wonder what this 45th year will bring... I send love to all of you who read and support me.

More to come......

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