Ave Maria - December 2014 Round Up

Listening to the Stevie Wonder version of Ave Maria in bed and have decided that it is time.

Regular readers will know I always do a december post on here. I usually do it much earlier in the month than this but I was struggling to find a unifying theme. I have it now so here we go.

Been a hell of a year 2014. I started it hopeful that I would get out of my depression, that things would magically get better at work and that  wouldn't feel the soul crushing dragging feeling of anxiety and loss.

In February my beloved Uncle Brian died unexpectedly. Because of the appalling way bio mum was treated I ended up falling out with 2 of my cousins at a time when we should have been leaning on each other.  Amazing how they didn't really want to know him the whole time I was caring for him but as soon as they thought there was some money they were suddenly the doting bereaved children. I will never forgive them for not letting me go to his flat one last time so I could say goodbye to the man who called me the daughter he should have had, nor will I forgive them for treating his sister so callously at her time of deep loss.

I miss you every day Uncle Brian. I miss your laugh and your silly sayings and your support and passion. But you know what? When you died I had no doubt about how you felt about me and I know you knew how much I loved you and that is a gift. Also, I am back speaking to Mum. We're taking it slowly but we are getting there. And I am even closer to Ian and Kelly now. I think you would be proud of me. I love you.

In March I accepted voluntary redundancy. My health was suffering due to bullying by management and by certain members of PCS. I had truly had enough. I had low energy, I was anxious and tired all the time, I couldn't stop crying and could barely leave the flat.

It was a massive decision to make but by then the bullying in PCS had got so bad that I was actively looking forward to leaving. It saps your energy when you are being bullied. So much so that you get paranoid about where the next attack is coming from. You stop trusting people. You feel really isolated. All because I refused to be anyone's puppet and tried to make things better for my members.

In May I attended my last PCS conference. I was on the Group SOC and we were told more than once that it was the best conference for years. We worked hard to give the branches the conference they wanted and we withstood the battering and bullying from certain factions of the GEC and stuck to our guns because dammit, it was IMPORTANT to us to make sure that PCS was actually member led. My health was still quite bad but at NDC I argued and won for a policy supporting sex workers, argued and won a policy supporting abortion rights in Northern Ireland and argued and won reaffirmation of affiliation to Abortion Rights.

Then I went off sick.

And that was when it started to get better. I took my wife and daughter person to Glastonbury. I had a couple of wobbles while I was there but I got to see Dolly Parton mutha truckas! Watching the daughter person start to come out of themselves was amazing and so was seeing Skrillex, Massive Attack and my new faves Dub Pistols. I missed Metallica as I was sobbing in my tent having a panic attack but you can't win them all.

Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival was awesome. I got Owen Jones drunk, had a picture of me, him, MJ and a polar bear nicked by the dick splash Guido Fawkes and got to have a walkie talkie. Also did the martyrs walk for the first time. I love Tolpuddle, it is really hard work but it recharges the old trade union batteries like nothing else does. And I bumped into the main bully from my branch who tried to talk to me.

I told him to fuck off.

Which was nice.

I also left my job of 11 years.

I thought there would be a magical ending of the depression when I finally left. Took me months to recover properly.

Going to Reading where I finally saw the World's Sexiest Ginger (Josh Homme) helped somewhat.

September I started my new job. I love it. I am doing trade union organising full time now and I am doing it with full support of a manager and colleagues. Amazing what I can get done when I am not being bullied!

What else have I been up to?  I went zombie walking, reclaiming the night, to a feminist comedy night and to the Dum Tee Dum Awards where I won caller of the year! People like to take the piss out of me for my love of The Archers but sod them, I love it and when (if) I grow up I want to be Lillian. I am already there with the love of gin and ciggies and a dirty cackle, but I do manage to do my own knitting.

December is now. And how am I coping? Much better. I am still not completely right. I still have my wobbles and I have a hole in my heart where my two sons should be (long story, another time perhaps) but for once I am really really enjoying it. I am far more comfortable in my own skin and far more confident in my abilities. And I got a fuck tonne of really great tattoos.

So what is the unifying theme?

Love and family.

There have been some truly dreadful happenings this year. Reeva Steenkamp not really getting anything that felt like justice. Boko Haram stealing women with seeming impunity. Palestinian children being murdered by Israel. Dude bros going on killing sprees because they didn't get their dicks wet.

We have more people using food banks than ever before. We have disabled people dying and the Tories not giving a shit. Peshawar.

So much darkness in the world. It threatens to drown me and then...

I have The Lovely. I have The Wife Lady. I have the daughter person. I have my cousin and his fiancee. I have me Mam. I have The Bear. I have Ada and the Mahanga.The Clangers, Lovely Tina, Comrade, Torty, Abbi. I have friends and colleagues who care about me. I have love. I have support.

As previously mentioned I have a fuck tonne of really cool tattoos!

This year has been getting better and better. I may not ever be out of the depression woods but I am learning to live with it because I have people who love me not in spite of it but because of it.

Do I miss my old job? No. I am sad that the public have nowhere to get face to face advice on tax but I don't miss being a civil servant. Those people deserve any payrise they get as they are trampled on, undervalued and discarded without a thought by an uncaring government who wants to try to convince you that they are the ones that should pay for the economy being in the shit.

Do I miss PCS? No. It is imploding and is not the union I joined all those years ago. I implore those who are left to fight hard to keep it going and to stop the fucking infighting and hubris that means it is on the brink of destruction.

You are better than this. You can be better than this.

Stop it now.

Do I hate my depression? No.

It's a part of me. I have learned to accept that.

I love you all. I am not even exaggerating when I say I could not do any of this without you. You are my strength, my heart, my passion and my all.

Thank you for my life.

Have a great rest of december and may 2015 be better for all of us.

Deeva xxx

Fuck Off Or Fuck Yeah? The December Round Up

*waves* Hello lovely people and assholes alike. Goddess knows I seem to have met you in equal measure this year.

Regular readers will know that December is a weird time for me. I went from this really miserable post to this far more hopeful post and now is the time for the round up from this year.

Has it been Fuck Off or Fuck Yeah!?

Bit of both really.

Fuck Off

Depression hit me with a vengeance this year. Like my brain went 'what, wait, WHUT... she got fucking happy while I wasn't looking? What shit is this?' and tried to totally destroy me.

Fucking asshole. I'd had an amazing year with Doodlebug moving in and feeling nothing but love for the year at home. I got all my debts sorted. Not paid, but actually put stuff in place so I can. That's what a previous marriage gets you when your ex husband didn't work or claim for 7 years apparently. Fuck loads of debt.

I digress.

Things were going so well that my shitty brain forgot to remind me what a waste of space I am. It let me go to Glastonbury and Tolpuddle and Reading and have a fucking great time and though it would sometimes remember to give me a prod now and then, (you don't deserve this remember? Ah fuck it, can't be arsed) it more or less left me alone.

Which was nice :)

Then it hit. Full pelt. Mostly because of work, but that will always impact on how I feel about myself in general. Was being attacked by all sides, day job and union 'comrades' and it got too much.

Sidebar.

When you are in a trade union you are supposed to be united against attacks on your members. There, I fucking said it.

I could not give a FLYING FUCK about what faction you are in or not. Not bothered in the slightest. You should always be working to make things better for your members.

Not a difficult concept really is it?

Yet.... There are those who spend so much time trying to undermine others because they are not in the Judean Peolples Front or the People's Front of Judea or whatfuckingever that they pay lip service at best to what they are supposed to be doing for members. You know, things like organising and campaigning and recruiting activists and shit. But no, that's fine. You spend your time trying to score political points by being snarky and lying to your members about it you useless, ridiculous waste of facility time.

Here is a clue since you seem too politically broke to buy one. There is not a single faction of any kind that is exempt from this. You want to spend your time trying to score points off each other, you go ahead. There are those of us who will just laugh at you while trying to do the best for our members, even if the obstacles you put in the way make us feel like we're banging our heads against a brick wall. You keep arguing about whether the bricks are proletariat enough. Yeah, that'll help.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the Fuck Off section.

What else has pissed me off?

Abortion. Still every woman's choice. Still none of your business. Still your only job is to support a woman whatever her choice is. Women will only have true freedom when they have true autonomy over their bodies and choices. This is not a difficult concept but one that I feel I have to explain over and over again. You're welcome.

Feminists. Stop fucking arguing with each other and get on with smashing patriarchy will ya? For fucks sake. There are a LOT of online feminists I have a lot of respect for, even if their views don't match mine exactly. We are a diverse lot really and there is more to being a feminist than screeching on Twitter about why you are a better feminist than me. Yeah I said it. I covered most of this here when I talked about missing the fucking point but it bears repeating.

I would rather spend my time educating people on why equality is important than arguing about whether trigger warnings are effective (not really in my view as they assume a lot about triggers. I prefer to use 'Content Warning' and let people decide for themselves what is likely to trigger them).

People who moan about christmas leftovers while other people use foodbanks. Fuck off.

People who buy into the idea of the workers v shirkers narrative. Fuck off.

Anyone who thinks that being disabled is a burden on the state, Fuck off.

Think that there will be 27m Bulgarians flooding into the UK next week? Fuck off. And do some research. The total population is far less than that for a start.

Got something to say to me? Say it. Don't hide behind passive aggressive little comments on other people's facebook. Don't lie about me. Don't (and this one was HILARIOUS) trash my musical tastes because there is fuck all else you can say about me. Yep. Fuck off.

Prefer harassing Owen Jones than coming up with a viable strategy of your own? HINT: A one day general strike is not a viable strategy. It will not win the war against austerity. It can only be part of an overall strategy. Again, you're welcome. Now fuck off.

Victim blamers, body policers, fat shamers, rape apologists. Fuck off.

STILL in an organisation that hides rapists. You can fuck off too.

Homophobes, transphobes, racists and idiots... Guess what... fuck off.

Depression. You get the biggest fuck off of them all.

Which leads me to the FUCK YEAH! section.

I finally made it to Glastonbury. I saw Public Enemy from right at the front. I made new friends, caught up with old ones, broke my toe, raised a LOT of money for PCS and had an amazing time.

And when I got home smelling 'earthy' (apparently) I was greeted with smiles and hugs and kisses rather than the cold indifference I am used to.

I finally got to go gigging with my Wife Lady. Who paid £350 to a ticket tout just so she could spend time with me at Reading Festival. Best time ever and I am now an inductee to the Church of Dubstep. It really is all about the drop and the wub, wub, wub.

I spent the year being loved, cherished, adored and trusted.

Doodlebug started college and is thriving.

The Lovely made life better for a lot of people. I am so proud of the work he and his colleagues do. And I am proud of him.

I got through the depressive episode and actually allowed myself to be a member at work. Reps are really, REALLY bad at this, so I see it as a major victory.

I decided that the ex had enjoyed enough control over me and made the decision that he would have no more. So instead of going straight for a divorce once we had been separated 2 years which he could slow down and contest, I have decided to wait so that he can't have a say in it and control me any more.

I took up knitting again and got to see the faces of those I gifted with home made scarves and hats.

I embraced the onesie!!!! You know what, I have never worn anything as comfortable and I now have three of them.

I had a LOT of therapy and finally got a proper diagnosis of Depression, Anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I always knew I had them, and fuck anyone who says you shouldn't self diagnose, I don't need a medical degree to know when I have broken my leg, but it is always nice to have it officially validated.

I got an undercut. I had wanted one for years and I finally took the plunge and did it.

I remembered that my friends love me when I am in a good mood and that they STILL love me when I am a crying mess.

Best of all, I found myself again. I remembered that I am not this awful person and that sometimes my very presence brings joy. This was a really powerful lesson to learn. It is one I am going to have to remember through the next 12 months and I may need you to remind me now and then.

In return I will tell you this.

You are not an awful person and sometimes your very presence brings joy.

Anyone who would tell you otherwise needs to fuck off.

Much love and happy new year.

Deeva xxx

Violence Against Women - An IRL Global Problem No Matter What We Are Told

You know when sometimes you wish you'd gone to bed instead of staying up a little longer reading Twitter? Well, that was me last night. It all started when I read this brilliant article on how Violence Against Women (VAW) was a global problem by @OwenJones84.

It was insightful, and helpful and I was really pleased that there was a global call to arms to do something about VAW.

Then @sunny_hundal took issue with it. Ok, so far so predictable, a spat between two men on what is a women's issue but I let that slide. I then made my fatal error. I asked him what he didn't agree with. And I got this as a reply.


Sunny Hundal ‏@sunny_hundal
@goddessdeeva main disagreement that just because rape culture prevalent in both countries doesn't mean one can't be much worse.

Oh good lord, where to even start?

I could have gone the easy route and done the whole 'don't even start that with me, you are a man, I have no interest' route but it felt lazy somehow. So I replied with this.


Goddessdeeva ‏@goddessdeeva
@sunny_hundal just trying to get my head round a sliding scale of rape culture. Nope. Can't do it. All rape culture is as bad as it can get.

And this...

@sunny_hundal if we start a league table of rape culture we invalidate women's experience and that helps not one single woman.

And lo and behold, even though I avoided the lazy route, he asks me if I have ever been an Indian Woman.


CORRECTION: Having had a discussion and gone over last night's tweets, what Sunny Hundal ACTUALLY asked is if I had ever lived in India. The suggestion being that if I haven't then I have no authority to talk about this issue. This doesn't actually change anything, he is still wrong about rape culture league tables and the rest of this post still stands.

Well, no, I have to admit I haven't.

But here is what DOES make me qualified to argue with him on this issue.

I am aware of the issues. And from more than reading about them. I used to live in a city where there was a huge Indian and Pakistani populace, and I lived right in the middle of it. They were my neighbours and my friends. And as such, when they told me of a woman who was being beaten, raped, or forced into marriage that needed hiding for a bit, I would do it. Without even thinking about it. And when they were staying at my house and I was helping plan their escape we would talk. And I would listen. And would face up to their male relatives when they turned up on my doorstep threatening violence towards me. Inventive with their threats too they were.

I have to say that not all of these women managed to escape. That broke my heart. But some of them did. And that made it worth the threats.

Still a bit too peripheral for you Sunny? Try this then.

I am mixed race. Apparently I kinda 'look Asiany'. However, I am not, and have never claimed to be. Where I lived in said city, I would get spat at, cat called, slapped on the arse, groped, harassed, threatened with rape on a daily basis, cornered and leered at because I was a woman in western (read provocative) clothing who looked Asian.

So, yeah.... I feel I'm qualified to talk about the subject.

Also, and this is an important one here, I am a woman.

This means that EVERY WAKING MOMENT of my life outside my home has been risk assessed.

That's right, every moment. Even going across the road to buy bread. This is what we live with. Every day. The knowledge that at any time we may be harassed, abducted, beaten, raped or killed. Because we are women. And because rape culture says it is ok to do so. Much as I hate to say it, men, with their starting position of privilege will never be able to understand this. Never know how it feels to constantly be aware that today could be the day it all comes crashing down. As it does for thousands of women daily.

So don't you dare pit one country's rape culture against another. Just don't you dare! When you do that you not only invalidate the experiences of women (and men, I get that, but I can't write from that perspective as I'm not one) globally, but you damage the work that is ongoing on this.

Every woman is my sister and when I hear of even one of them being subjected to VAW it hurts me and makes me angry. No matter where on the planet they are.

I do not know ONE WOMAN who saw what happened in Delhi and said 'Nothing to do with me, it's India innit?' Not one. I do know Indian women who are appalled that there seems to be this league table of rape culture building up. It is divisive and helps not a single woman.

I asked Sunny two things last night. One, have you ever been a raped woman? And two, listen to the women.

The first I already knew the answer to.

In reply to the second was this article and links to articles written by women.

Throw as many links at me as you like Sunny, I am talking to women. Real, IRL, LIVE women who want help from their sisters across the world to fight what is undoubtedly a horrific place and time to live. Not just academics, not just women who have platforms in papers etc, normal, real, everyday women.

My hope for this year is that it will be the year that the mansplainers realise that if they want to be feminist allies that there needs to be less telling us how it is and more listening to what help we want.

I also hope that the millions of women around the world unite, free of rape culture league tables and fight VAW together.

Enough is enough sisters.