So, after many years of being known as 'Mummy', I finally put her to rest (oooh it must be two years ago now) when I finally walked out of the great online door leading to one of, what was supposed to be dykelands highest order of websites.  In my heart I have completely woken up to what volunteering means now and just how much it can sap you of energy if there's no one saying 'Get the fuck out'.  I'm now in a land which I like to call 'Caveman chic', trying hard to get back to normality in many ways and trying to understand the whys of why we all choose odd routes to go down. 

Now I've realised that after more that 6 years creating this beast, losing friendships, wiping people from my life deliberately and realising that you will never, ever please any one of the individuals - I have put it all onto the top shelf of my cave and am prioritizing myself and my projects.  I think I must have suffered some form of breakdown over time and wasn't really that aware of what was going on.  In my head anyway. 

I totally walked away from the 'scene', from many dykes I have known, other than those very close to me who I trust, and have gone into a lock down phase.  I must admit, I thought it would have lost its glory by now, lost its appeal. But I'm still living in my cave nearly two years later.  I can't tell you why - it feels kind of safe here, and it isn't full of fake, plastic people.  I think part of me lost my mind, lost myself in that period.  I think that the events over those years really had a horrible effect on me as a woman, as a person and as a dyke.  I am aware I enjoyed many years of it, I only wish there had been a bell to ring inside my head when my time should have been up.  And now that that creation, the persona created is dead and finally soil kicked over the rotting corpse, PhatGrrl has now risen from the ashes and is trying hard to crawl her way out of the cave and away from the past.  It's not easy; I know I never thought it would be.

Trying to change my being, physically and mentally is fucking hard.  I have lost many people who I thought were real friends along this odd journey, I've lost family and I've lost Lilly my cat and find myself living through work and creating projects to keep my mind working outside of film land, hoping to catch up on the 6.5 years that I feel is well and truly lost.  What I do know was that I was very silly to give the time I gave and will encourage most people to NOT volunteer and if they do to make sure they only do it for a limited amount of time.  

Every day I smile and cuss my phat arse wondering why I did it.  The belief we have in the things we love but also hate, is the belief which keeps up wrapped up in habits which become debilitating and crippling over time.

Life's fucking odd.  What it throws at us and the choices we make for whatever reason.  It leaves us hanging from that very  long rope we put around our own necks.  Left dangling from great fuck off chandeliers, watching the sparkle fade in the eye as the rope tightens.   I sometimes wish I wore heels, so I could kick them off and sigh a huge sigh of relief when you've had an epiphany wearing bad shoes.