broken brained, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart

It’s just how we role around here!

It’s just how we roll around here!

I’ve been sat doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been packing to go away on a business trip with a kitten. But I don’t think we’re normal in this family, and I don’t just mean odd, I mean bat crap crazy and stranger than a jumper in July.

What bought this sudden realization to me? A conversation twitter about how I had pack 4 pairs of unicorn socks and 12 pairs of panties for a 2-night trip! But then I also have pack 20 collars, 3 stuffies and a massive tube of lube. I know I’m not normal, and I’m fine about, no really.

I’ve never been what you call ”normal” and from an early age I was labelled ”special”. As a little kid I thought that was a great thing to be, but as I got older I found out that ’special ’ is not such a great thing to be. I was, in fact, a very scornful thing and meant that you were different. It relegated you to the same place as black sheep, funny uncles and those sent to the sisters of mercy.

As I got older it got changed from special, to special needs and I was know to be challenging. Now I should say that my special needs, were nothing more than being dyslexic and struggling to learn my 3rd alphabet. The challenging part was a form of ADD and the fact I was from a home with 2 abusive parents. But I was seen as the problem and got told to stop making excuses and buckle down. But I simply could not do it, being normal hurt, like I was being squashed into a mould that was too small. It had round edges and I had sharp, jagged points. It led to me acting out, getting kicked out of schools and very nearly getting sent to a youth offenders place.

Luckily my nana and my priest (I know right!) saw that I was different in a good way. My Nana and father Michael went in and batted for me, somehow managing to get me one final chance. I got sent a PRU and got help and guidance. I learnt to embrace my quirks, funny habits and being different. I learned that yes I am strange, odd and special, but that can be good and beautiful things.

So fast forward to today, and sure I’m still that odd, different and quirky girl. But I’m doing good. I am succeeding, living a happy and stable life. Sure I could clean for Ireland, I freak out if I have to sit by a bin and have a break down if bird flys over my head. But every day I get up, I know I make people happy, make them smile and make their lives a little bit better. Maister always says I’m his special girl, and that makes me so happy and proud, and I’m ok with that!

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart

High cliffs.

I have a place that I go, in my mind when I become totally overwhelmed by life. Whether its

sadness, anger, pain, anxiety, or fear that send me, it’s the same place, a sort of high cliff

Inside my head. The emotions build gradually, I can see it happening, I try to stop it happening.

But as it grows, it builds faster and faster, till I can’t stop it.

Then I’m on my high cliff, all alone. It high steeply falling ledges, sharp, jagged rocks. On the

top of this high cliff, its open and the is no place to hide. the is either bright, harsh, hot

sunshine. Or Heavy rain and howling winds. Every part of my body hurts. Light and sounds

become physically painful. My tummy is in knots, I can hardly breath, with sweaty palms and

shacking from head to toe. It’s so high, I can’t see the ground or away down. The only way

down seems to be jumping.

So how do I/ we deal with this? Well maîtres would say that to heal and become whole again, is

to first break apart, and for me that is true. I need to shatter and then build myself up again.

But breaking apart is hard to do and can in its self be painful. It sometimes takes a therapy

spanking or kicking the crap out of a punch bag or someone pushing me mentally but sometimes

I need someone to talk me down. But it always ends with shattering and sobbing in whoever

saved me arms.

After breaking apart, I need to rebuild myself. Nobody can do it for me, it must come from me.

I need love, support and understanding If I need help I will ask for it. I need people in my life

that are consistent, open, and gentle. who will approach with care, but more than anything I need

people to stand by my side as I fight my way back up off the floor, and hold my hand while I do it.

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart, social

From the heart – broken brain update

Hello, hi , hay! So I have not been posting that much or writing much. Normally when that happens , well it’s down to life is busy or I’m working or I have important stuff happening. But not this time people. This time it’s because I don’t or haven’t seen the point. My depression is back and my anxiety levels are through the roof. I’m not coping well, I’m angry, confused and tired. I feel invisible, unliked and ugly. I am hurting , sore and had started hating myself again.

I don’t hide that I have mental health problems, well illness. But I fight it , every bloody day and for the most part I’m winning. But over the last few weeks, not so much. This has largely been bought on by my mum being sick and her death. But the have been other thing at play to. My gp changing my meds with out consulting me or my physiatrist or me, has thrown me off balance. He changed my antidepressant to normal to modified release. Meaning that in the morning I would get a massive high, a huge kick of happy , that by 2.30 pm was leaving and by 5 pm was leaving me flat and on a downward spiral. He cut my main anxiety meds from 5mg 6 times a day, to 1mg 4 times a day. Meaning my anxiety level went from liveable, to through the roof and frightened to level the house. He increased my thyroid meds from 200 mg to 350mg straight away. Meaning I got even more anxious, slept less and felt every so slightly manic. Added to this he stop my anti inflammatory med and took out 2 levels of my pain medication plan. Leaving me trying to cope on less pain medication than I need , not wanting to jump to the really high levels.

Now normally I can cope with a depressive bleep, but I have been dealing with loss and grieve, for people I loved or had very mixed and complex feelings for. Not knowing how to feel or deal with, well it all started to get to much again. I was going through the motions each day, but not feeling anything. I was numb and confused. It’s when this happens that the anxiety and ocd side of my kicks in . I also start to get paranoid and start seeing things in other people’s behaviour towards me that makes me even more paranoid and sad. People not replying to msgs , cos they are busy and stressed , to me is them saying I hate you, get out my life, your a vile bitch and I hate you. It’s not the case , but in my head it was or is. It’s like the worse form of rejection and it hurts. Then the voices start to come back, telling me I’m worthless , hopeless , ugly, vile and a waist of oxygen. Trust me they frighten the fuck out of me.

I got to Thursday last week , and I was dragging my bum out of bed , and just going through the motion of being me. To an outsider I looked like I was doing good. That’s cos I have , over the years got good at putting on a front of being good. I had to, or thought I had too. I don’t like bringing people down or being a pain. I mean I’m the sad sack , why should I bring them down with me, right. I stop a sling things, or for help or for support . I but inside, every time I see someone happy , it twists the knife and kills me a little more.

By Friday , well the pain, hurt and yucky feelings got to much. They left me feeling so sad and anxious, it becomes like a physical pain. So strong it takes you breath away and brings tears to my eyes. I was hurting so bad I started to lash out at people. Not hitting or slapping , but with spiteful words and hurtful actions. I grumped at people on twitter, I thought ill of people and refused cuddles from my darling kitten. Things came to head when uncle Fred ask me how I was doing, and I just broke in to a thousand pieces. Thankfully or sadly , depending how you look at it, he and kitten knew I was not well. The called maîtser, who came home from work. Took all my. Tech away and made me take my meds for anxiety attacks . I was tucked in bed with little bear, I cried and feel asleep in her arms.

Maîtser knew what to do, he always does. He came home from work, checked my tech and meds . (I used to hide things that upset me and I have some times stopped taking my meds when I’m poorly). He phoned my cpn and got him to do a home visit. They looked and saw what had happened with my meds , and my cpn phoned and dealt with my gp and my meds. They got my an appointment to see my head doctor for Monday and agreed on a plan for the weekend. Basically I had to do as I was told, rest and let myself be looked after. I think not having to think about stuff and being looked after was really what so needed. I went to bed on Friday, took my sleep meds and slept for 13 hours straight. I spent Saturday playing with my dogs, watching Disney films and cuddling my babies. Sunday I wrote a little, went out for a roast dinner, played with my babies , cuddled kitten and wrote a little more.

Well Monday morning hot hear, and I was a terrified again. I still had in my head that I was having some sort of phycotic break or something worse and that oil was going to be made to stay in hospital. Aunty May came with me, even coming In with me (I seriously thank the nhs needs great aunties as a way to help look after people with mental Health problems) . After 20 mins of chatting and looking at things, the verdict was in. I’ve not gone mad, or lost the plot or need to stay in hospital. What is wrong with me then? My mother died, my dr changed my meds, triggering a depressive blip and I could not cope with it. Simple! We have made a plan on how to deal with this. It involves medication, therapy , hard work and time. But I have a plan, and when I have a plan , well it sort of makes me see I can and will get better.

But I have also had to realise some pretty hard truths, that really have hurt to come to. The are people who I have hurt, and they may not want me around for a while. That some people may not want me as a friend or in theief lives. That people sometimes only have time for the happy , funny and silly pixie. My behaviour has made me open to critasism and reproach . That some people say one thing and mean another. That I am only human and myself, and that even if they say not , that is not enough or what they want. That others are more their. Up of tea . And even though it should not matter , that my bad mental health, is not something they want to deal with or have in their world. I have to except this and move on but it hurts like hell and it is the thing I’m struggling to except, and will take a long time to deal with or get used to not being enough, but I’ll get their. It is hard to except , it hurts and is going to for a long time. But I guess the is worse things than losing people you thought were friends and liked you. It just hurts and makes me feel invisible.

Well that’s the end to this mental health ramble . Self pity and whining will be kept to a mom I promise and normal pixie is back soon, just not yet.

Hugs,

Pixie

From the heart, musings of pixie heart, social

Things I don’t believe in….

Things I don’t believe in….

Ok, ok I know I seem to be doing down beat blog posts this week, I know ! But this is less down beat than the tittle would have you think, ok? It kind of came to me this morning, laying in bed after a rather lovely morning fuck. Maîtser was humming one of ‘are songs’, Dream by Gabriel , and as I snuggled in close and started drifting back to sleep and my own dreams, I was hit by thoughts of my nana. I have been thinking a lot about her recently, with my own mother coming to the end of her own life. I was really close to my nana, and she taught me so, so ,so many things. Like how to clean house, how to take care of babies and how cook for 14 people without breaking a sweat. But I also remember all her ‘funny’ ways of looking at the world. To an outsider looking in, she was a very simple creature. A country girl, a wife, a mother and housewife. But she also was a feminist, peace protester and loved learning. The 3 things I remember her saying the most often were, always have a dream , nobody is perfect, and I just want them (her family) to be happy. This got me thinking about how she always refused to believe anything was perfect, and then on to the things I don’t believe in. So I thought I would write about them.

Perfection and paragons – ok so this kind of a stolen one from my nana (sorry nana!). But I really don’t believe anyone or anything is perfect, I just don’t. Growing up in a very strict Orthodox (Russian) / Catholic household we learned the bible forwards, backwards, upside down and standing on are heads. So I knew the words ‘he, who has not sinned cast the first stone’ really well. My nana used that to stop arguments, and my daddy coming down to hard on us, when we did something wrong. But my belief goes a little deeper than the bible . I also think that it is impossible for things to be perfect. They may seem it or look it, but if you dig a little deeper the is always a flaw or an imperfection. I also think that some of the most beautiful things and people in the world have imperfections. In fact , those imperfections , make them so much more wondrous. Don’t get me wrong I always aim for as good as humanly is possible, but by excepting things having flaws, it save heaps of time and a hole lot of worry.

Miracles – now this is going to sound mad, coming from someone who thought she could not have children, who had non identical twins girls. But the reason I don’t believe they were a Miracle, is simply the fact that non identical twin girl do happen. Mine are not a one off, the are a fair few around. I also don’t think people ending up millionaires from winning the lottery isn’t a miracle, for the same reason. I also hate, more than words , when people say to me, ‘oh it’s a miracle you turned out so well” or “ it’s a miracle your still alive” . Everything I have or have gotten in my life has either come from a lot of hard work, or a great deal of hardship and loss. I have the great fortune to of inherited, a pretty large amount of money, when I was younger. But I only have that due to losing my god mother to breast cancer. I have had 3 really good jobs and I am respected in the fields I have worked in. But again I worked really hard to get there.

Respect your elders and betters – No, no, no! this is just not true. I believe that you should respect everyone, without exception. But people can lose that respect, and telling me I need to respect them, just because they are older or in a ‘better’ position than me. oh and while we are the subject of respect I completely disagree with the idea that respect needs to be earnt. Bull squirt! Respect should be given to everyone freely without exception. But as I said, I also believe that respect can be lost, and it can be lost very easily, and then it has to be earnt back.

Sorry is the hardest word to say – Again to me this is Bull squirt! Sorry is really easy to say. What is hard , is saying sorry and really meaning it from the bottom of heart, or that you were wrong, when you are wrong. My ex said sorry every time he beat me or sexually abused me, was he sorry no. sorries that are hollow and meaningless are in fact an insult to the person receiving them, or at least they are to me.

Swearing show how unintelligent people – Well then Mastier is stupid! (No his not, I’m not saying that maitsier) . So many super clever people I know swear like dockside navy. Steven Hawkins swore. Swearing is actually good for you. it’s a great way to relieve stress and realise happy endorphins .(ok can I may of made that part up)

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger- again, wrong on so many levels. Not wanting to make things about me, but things that have nearly killed me (yes I mean kill me!) have in-fact had the apiarist effect. Physical health stuff has left me with arthritis, lung damage and poor hearing. My ex beat so badly that I have had 6 operations to fix what he broke. Sexual assault and rape left me so frightened and depressed that I tried to take my own life. It also gave me ptsd, extreme anxiety attacks and full of triggers. But all this has left me with a need to slowly rebuild myself. It taught me to be open, caring and forgiving , as well as making me pretty mentally tough and determined to live. So I guess it is a-least a little true.

So that is what I don’t believe in, but I do believe in loads too ! So to close I will leave you with my grandads and mr Walt Disney’s saying “you gotta have a dream to make a dream come true”

Hugs,

Pixie

Dreams, by Gabriel

family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart, Uncategorized

New year, Better me!

New year, Better me!
Well 2017 is gone and I find myself in a reflective mood. For a lot of people, I know 2017 was not the best of year. With loss, illness, big ass storms and Donny-j. For me it was full of lows and highs. It was the year my daddy got sicker, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, I lost friends and family and my depression and anxiety decided to kick me in the butt. But it was also a year of great personal growth for me. I found my fit as a wife, blogger, and feminist. But by fair the best thing of 2017 was becoming a mother to my beautiful twin girls. I know a lot more to life that being a mum, but when you have thought for many years that it is something you’re not going to get to do. Well when you do, it blows your mind. I never knew I could love something so deeply and fiercely as I do them.
I have seen loads of people posting their new year resolutions, but you won’t be seeing any from me. We don’t make them, as maîtriser thinks it away of setting yourself for an unnecessary fail. What we do is sit down and make a list of targets and goals we want to work towards and plan how we can achieve them. it’s something we do every 3 months and we cover pretty much every aspect of are lives. Even maîtriser does it and will let us set goals for him! We sat down on Friday last week and did are lists. This is where I admit that I love the whole planning side of this. I get to get all my gel pens and stickers out. It’s really good fun!
Some of my goal for the next 3 months are: Loose the last of the baby weight and 15lbs extra, run my dogs at crufts, attend eroticon, pitch some ideas at other blogs, do my muck run training, more swimming lessons and get my new and improved blog up and running!
Maîtriser has also sat down with my and we have set some goals for my blog. Such as post a min of 3 times a week, keeping up to date with emails and upping the number of followers to my blog. Lol one of my friends got me a bloggers journal and a diary that is designed for people who have autism, that have been amazing. They are fun, clear, easy to use and don’t feel like they are shouting at me. So, yay!

I have also decided that I want really work on my English. Not just writing, but spelling, grammar, punctuation and understanding. This came about after several nasty comments about my spelling and grammar. I’m dyslexic and have Anxious ADD, so that makes learning and understanding really flipping tough at times. adding to this I grow up speaking a mix of Irish Gaelic and Russian you can see why English is something I have ongoing struggles with it! But I have Bob my English tutor tailoring lessons for help with this. Also, Sir Beasty is stepping in to help with editing my work, so it’s a case of bring it on!

So, as I wave good bye to 2017, I’m hitting the ground running in 2018, so bring it 2018!

Hugs,

Pixie x

From the heart, social, Uncategorized

#metoo #ustoo #wehearyou

#metoo #ustoo #ihearyou

So, the #metoo hash tag has been sweeping across the interweb in a show of solidarity to the whole, vile Harvey Weinstein affair. Thousands of Woman and Men sharing their stories of sexual harassment, sexual assault, and rape. I have been impressed by people’s bravery, Saddened, and deeply troubled by some of things I have read, an amazed at the amount of support that I have seen others offer victims. I have also got very angry that still after all this some people think that it’s just hype and some of it is the woman’s fault, still in 2017.
The other thing I have found troubling is a sort of pressure from people for other ‘victims ‘to share their stories, even if they are still processing what happened to them, without care that by doing so could cause the victim even more pain, harm, and distress. I guess that is why I felt I needed and wanted to write about this. I am a survivor of domestic violence, rape and serve mental, physical, and sexual abuse. I have spoken a little about it in the past, I am still dealing with it, every day, and at this point in my life I am not ready to share more. So how can I write anything for this or do more than listen to others?
It was over lunch a few days ago with the girls and my Great Aunt May that we got to talking about it. I said I felt I needed to share, but was not sure if I wanted to talk about it more than I had. Aunty May piped up with ‘well why don’t you share other stories, so they have a voice, but don’t have to share it themselves.’ I think that was a light bulb moment for me, help others share and be their voice! So, we talked about it and aunty may and the girls shared their stories. we got to talking it over dinner and Big Steve (my personal trainer) shared his story, and later that night via skype one of my best male friend shared his story with me. They have all said it is ok to write down what happened to them, in the chance it helps someone else. So here are their stories.
Great Aunty May 82 – Now for any of you that don’t know much about my Aunty May, she is the feisty, vocal, and strong minded and strong-willed head of my daddy’s side of the family. She is also one of the cleverest, most full of life and love and the most spirted people I have ever known. She was born in 1935 in Ballygowan in county down, Northern Ireland. She is a devote catholic, as were all her family. Growing up she saw that the church and the priest ward was that of god and you agreed with it. Girls who did would be sent to the reformatory schools or the Magdalen launderers. May recalled that at the age of 14 she was asked to help at the local presbytery after school. She had heard awful stories of thing going on there and that several of the girls had been sent to the feared launders. A few weeks in to working there, one of the priest offered to help peg out some sheets with her. While caring a heavy basket of wet sheets, he came up behind her and grouped her chest and tried to rub himself against her leg. Terrified and sacked she screamed, dropped the washing and this caused the priest to stop his assault. She left that day and after begging her mother to not send her back. Aunty May said she never spoke to anyone, except her older sister Irene (my nana), who said that they should stay quiet and pray that the priest never touched another girl. Fast forward 6 years and May found herself working as a Nanny to a posh society family in New York City, a very different place than her small village that she grew up in. She loved her job and the freedom it gave her. But she was homesick and sometimes was left tearful. The father of the family seemed very kind and always seemed to have words of comfort. It was on one of her low moments that her boss made her move. Her cornered in the kitchen, kissed her very hard while grabbing her wrists and pinning them to her side. Thankfully she managed to knee him hard in the balls and run and lock herself in the bathroom. She was dismissed the next morning and turned out on the streets with very little money, no job, and a very long way from home. thankfully NYC has a very large Irish community and she was taking in and found a new job within days! Again, she never talked about this till years later, fearing how people would look at her or how they would judge her. She survived, stayed strong and has lived a full and happy life. She says ‘A man or woman has not right to try and take anything be force. I would urge people who anything like this happens to speak up and to not keep it hidden, you have done nothing wrong’
Babe, 40 – Babe is are family little d. She is the sassy, strong and fearless. She is the one who the boss man leaves in charge when he must work away or if we are out and about without him. She recalls in her first job as a junior hair dresser, her 45-year-old male boss would make suggestive comments and lude remarks. He would always brush up against the joiners and made her feel uncommittable with the way he acted. Being only 17 she kept quiet and kept her head down not wanting to rock the boat. A few years later she was when she had just discovered her love for women (she’s bi-sexual), she was hanging out on Brighton’s gay scene a lot. On one night out the was a random drunk straight guy in the club that she was in. he seemed to latch on to babe and babe being a friendly lass and feeling a little sorry for him danced with him. After they danced he started trying to ply her with strong drinks, started to get a little handsy and said, ‘she was too pretty to be a less, he was going to turn her straight’. He started trying to kiss a drunk babe and shoved a hand up her top. The club had some amazing door staff who saw what was going on and pulled him off her. He was frog marched out of the club, in to a waiting police car and later the next day was charged. He pleaded guilty and got 8- hour of community service. Babe said that ‘if you ever end up in this predicament and you want to feel like justice has been dealt? Then go to the police. Yes, it is hard and yes, it’s frightening, but the police are there for this sort of thing. I was treated with respect, compassion and kindness.’
Emit, 43 – Emit is one of my best friends. We meet when I was working in Paris and bounded over are love of all things art nivo . Sweet, fun, and extremely talented. (he made my wedding dress). We were both dating the wrong guy and were being treated like crap. But both loving each and just wanting to be happy, we stayed quiet. Roll on the years and Emit and his partner Kirt got married, I was grooms’ maid. It was at the wedding it became clear to me that something was very wrong with Emit. He was a shadow of himself and had become withdrawn and timid. after 8 months of marriage, on a visit to the uk from Albany, on his own, a wan down Emit told me how bad things were. Kirt had been using emotional and verbal abuse and blackmail, to get Emit in to sexual activity that he was not commutable or happy with taken part in. he said he did not know how much more he could take. I was terrified that when he left to go home, I was going to get a phone call to say that he had taken his own life or something worse. I did get a phone call, but It was Emit to say that he had kick Kirt out. Was very proud of him, knowing how hard it was for him to do that. 6 months on he is still rebuilding himself, but us getting more like his old self every day. Emit added that ‘For so long I have seen Men hit on women or other men, in ways that make the mind boggle as to how their brain is working. Why would grabbing some one’s ass or trying to get handiest on a first date be likely to make the person to want more dates? Just stop being a dick and treat them with respect and dignity’
Kitten, 38 – Both kitten and I have worked on and off as dresser with in the Film and TV industry on and off over the years. The things we have seen at times have been enough to make you sick to your stomach, but the sake of keeping jobs we kept quiet. it is some sort vile unwritten rule that these sorts of things happen. From lude comments, to over friendly touching and to well a lot worse. From a personal level she has had men who she has overseen their wardrobe that have gotten erections form her dressing them. They always say, sorry I can’t help it, or you should be flattered really. But it can be helped, it’s not just a natural thing, and hell no we ‘ant flattered about it! Kitten wanted to make sure I added this last part, as a lot of this #metoo has focused on women and men being victims of men saying and doing stuff. She wanted to make a point that some women do this stuff too. Her ex-girlfriend, used emotional blackmail and abuse, to ware her down to the point that she would let her do stuff to her that she was not happy with. It led to kitten to become extremely depressed and was a big part of why she suffered a relapse of her eating disorder last year.
• Little Bear, 25 – So my sweet little bear has had a rough time for someone of her age. He first proper boyfriend at the age of 14, was in Lb’s words a numpty spunk muppet! He was a couple of years older and was a bit of a bully. He made her feel worthless and like she weird for not wanting to be giving him blow jobs or letting him do things to her. He also wanted her to take topless pic of herself, but being close to her mum, she went to her with his text. she in turn went to the school and they came down hard on the lad, why after an investigation got kicked out of the school. Fast forward a few years and at the age of 18 on a night out she got off with a guy and gave him her number. Waking up the next morning, she soon learned that she had made a huge mistake when she found 5 missed calls, 4 voice mails and 30 texts from this guy. She texts him to say that she did not want to take things any farther and thought nothing more of it. Well he turned out to be a nasty piece of work. the text and calls kept coming, he somehow got hold of her Facebook and twitter id’s, then found out where she works. Basically, her turned in to a stalker and not in a ‘I love you and will do anything for you’. It got to the point that he was threatening her with extrema sexual violence. That was when we as her friends stepped in and made her to go to the police. Who again were brilliant, arrested him, charged him and he plead guilty to all charges. He was sent to prison for 9 months. We later found out he had spent time in jail for hurting his ex-female partner. She wanted to say as well ‘never suffer in silence, talk to someone, anyone, but talk to someone’
Big Steve, 43 – Big Steve is one of the Boss Man’s best friends. He is a doorman and Personal trainer. He is 6 ft. tall, blond, blue eyes, and muscles. He is handsome, and I guess his what you would call ‘Eye candy’. However, he is a very sensitive guy and one of the deepest and must caring people in this world. He is my personal trainer and I have seen how woman can act towards him. The stares, the giggles and flirting. The are also the women who make remarks about his looks, who are very touchy feely and who make him feel like a piece of meat. Sadly, he has also been assaulted by a woman he was training. She flirts openly with him and Steve shut her done. he was at the time in a very committed relationship however carried on with the flirting and became extremely touchy feely. Then on a very early morning training session she decided to move things along, came up behind him and slipped her hands into his shorts. Steve jumped, pushed her hands away and went shout at her, saying ‘what the hell are you playing at’. This was heard by his manager, who had seen what was happening and how the woman had been acting towards Steve. She was escorted from the building, band from the gym and Steve was asked if he wanted to go to the police, he declined. As being a bloke, he felt they would not be taken seriously.
So that is are tales we wanted to share for the #metoo. We also have some advice we wanted to offer some advice, so here we go.
• If you see it happening, then find a way to help and speak out about it.
• If it happens to you speak out if you can and if it is safe to do so.
• If not, find someone to talk to, a friend, someone you work with or family member and ask for help.
• If you need to, go to the police and report what has happened to you. they will take it seriously and will treat you with respect.
• Get help to proses what has happened to you.
• Never feel that you are to blame, you have not done anything wrong.
• Hold your head high and feel proud of yourself for serving and for speak out.
We also wanted to add, if the is anyone out there who needs someone to talk to, we are all here to listen. simply mail any of us at Pixieheartblog@hotmail.com