I realised today that it was my mum’s birthday. 

I think everyone who knows me knows that my mother and I just don’t speak.   

She hates me because I speak truth she doesn’t want to hear.  I despise her because she didn’t protect me or give me the kind of upbringing she should have.

So whose at fault you ask?  Not me.  I didn’t ask to be a built in babysitter, a punching bag or a victim at the hands of either of my parents.. 

So I guess that answers that question doesn’t it?

I was lying in bed at midnight tonight and against all hope I couldn’t for the life of me sleep. Between car accidents, new relationships, moving houses and the rest of it (that’s all coming later, so patience grasshoppers) I haven’t blogged in THREE YEARS. But tonight my Greater Mind had a different idea.  I tossed and turned and in my head, I formulated the perfect blog post.  I’ve been out here on our balcony listening to the waves and watching the words float OUT of my head into the bloody ethos since 1.30am.

It’s now 5.07am.  Thanks Greater Mind and thank you mercury in retrograde (for the record?  Girl?  You’ve got to go).

Seriously?  It’s not enough that her birthday disturbs my sleep? To top it off the perfect post disappeared to.  Cheers mum!

This won’t be a complete post this morning because there is way to much swirling around that it would take me hours to formulate it into a post,

So what’s brought on THIS post Lisa you say?

Demi Moore.

For the last little while I’ve been reading her autobiography with a highlighter and post it notes, because SO much of it resonates with me.  WAY to much.  Obviously not the rich, famous, gorgeous movie star type.  But her childhood, her lack of love from her mother,  the way she wasn’t allowed to be a typical child, how it impacted on her adult life and her parenting skills with her own children.

Then I saw an episode of Red Table Talk with Jada Pinkett Smith, her mother and daughter, Demi Moore and her daughters.  It was TOUGH to watch.  Really tough.  Because every layer they peeled back, every page they turned and the deeper into things they went?  The more my shit floated to the top.  The more it made me uncomfortable, the more I watched and the more I started to understand SOME of the choices I had made in my life.  As a teenager, an adult, a daughter, a mother and a human in general.  It was like I’d been sitting in a dark room for the longest time and someone had finally turned on the light and BOOM the six million puzzle pieces that had been scattered around me, were suddenly starting to make sense.  At it just so happened to take place on my mothers birthday.

I’m a HUGE believer in the universe guiding me and THIS is the sign I’d waiting for.

More later…..

It’s 2.18am on a Thursday morning in Australia. It’s windy, warm and mercury in retrograde is still working her special kind of magic.

Truth be told? I should be sleeping because I have an early morning. But Lady Universe and the Goddesses have other ideas. So I’m sitting on my balcony, listening to the waves and undertaking something that is truthfully, something I’ve wanted to do for the longest time. But didn’t have the guts too.

So lets begin shall we?

I’ve changed the name of the blog. I’m NOT D`Anerah and I haven’t ever truly been for a good fifteen years. THAT girl, was so full of shit her eyes should have been brown. She was an escape, a place to hide that gave me free reign to bullshit to my hearts content. A place where nobody would question what I said, because they were too entwined in the great love I talked about the and lies I managed to weave into the tiny bit of truth I posted. I’m Lisa. I’m no more perfect or imperfect than anyone else. So D’Anerah is gone and the REAL me is here.

Beauty in the breakdown is also gone. There was ZERO beauty in my breakdown. But it sounded SOOOO dramatic and Mill’s and Boon like didn’t it? Yeah no. It wasn’t, so it had to go also. The Wounded Warrior is me. It’s a long story to explain why its became that, but if you stick around long enough, you’ll understand why.

“Well, maybe if I am totally truthful with myself, it evokes emotions I have long since hidden away and chosen not to think about. Because its simply too hard and much, much too painful”
”

Lets look at that paragraph above. A lot of my life I HAVE hidden away I have hidden away because it was painful and much to hard to deal with. Because a huge part of my life, has, been a lie. I carefully coloured in the bad parts I didn’t want people to know and made them seem perfect. I highlighted the good parts and made them seem even shinier than they were. Because that’s what I thought people wanted. I thought that was what would make people like me. Because I was so full of self loathing and hatred that I figured if my life seemed so shiny and perfect then people would like me.

And I’d be happy.

Right?

Nope. If anything it made me despise myself more and made things worse. People did, in fact, like me. Not because of my shiny, glittery, perfect life but because I was me. Flaws and all. I’ve lost friends in the process, because eventually the shine wore off the story and the truth came shining through like headlights on the highway. They didn’t leave because my life wasn’t shiny. They left because my lies were too much for them to forgive. And that I can understand. Some I am close friends with again, because they have gotten to know the real me and they love me that way. And for that I am eternally grateful.

A lot of the old posts that were on here will be either deleted or edited. Because they simply aren’t totally truthful or they just don’t need to be here.

It’s time to start my story again from the place I’m in now. There will be lots of posts about my past, including my childhood, some will be good and some, well I can’t promise they won’t make you uncomfortable but I can promise they’ll be truthful.