I’m feeling a little odd so I probably shouldn’t be blogging but I am going to anyway….. I think it will help my anxiety levels to type this all done. It’s not like any of you read this shit anyway is it?
Where was I ? Oh yeah, I’m feeling a bit out of sorts and not entirely sure what I am doing. I think my PTSD is giving me a little nudge just to remind me that it hasn’t gone away and that it basically has control over me. So …. I should probably try and sleep this off and maybe I might feel a bit calmer in the morning … I hope so otherwise I need to go back to my GP.
I’m going to leave you with a poem that I have written just because I express myself better that way.

Who are you?
Who are you to walk into my life and wake me
I had it just right
A hollow for my body to rest
Comfortable and safe
And then this
Like a shot across my horizon
You break open the door
That I had built so strong
And the light comes pouring through
But at the door you stay
Making shadows over my walls
I snuggle down and close my eyes
It is all too late
Too late for hiding
My heart is beating quicker
Blood warms my palms
And there’s no chance to dream anymore
I’ll have to sweat it out.




Fuck off

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
I would have waited for you
Would have crushed all your foes
But you made me a fool
Brought me down like a tree
I was graceful and willing
I was up for the taking

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
To treat me this way
Like I’m unworthy of you
Well, you know what to do
You can go screw yourself
And fuck off with your words
They mean nothing to me

You know nothing of me
You know nothing of me
So just stay away now
I do not want to know
How my beauty is great and my passionate soul
Don’t you think I don’t know
You can fuck off with that

The Absent Feminist


I have a confession to make….there’s a feminist shaped hole in my life and no, I’m not talking about the lacking of a special woman in my life! I am, however, talking about my inability to really grasp the feminist nettle.

I regard myself as somewhat intelligent but when it comes to feminism, I am a lost soul in a sea of lentils! There are so many new words to learn for a start. My foggy CFS brain struggles with processing any information other than ‘get out of bed’ or ‘cook dinner’ – sad but true.That’s not to say that I am not interested in learning, I really would like to jump feet first and soak up all the knowledge. But where do I start?

Here’s a little list of my struggles:

  • Cis, trans, binary, non binary, structural, misogyny, misandry, MRAs ….Help! I’m still learning what all these words mean and tie myself up in knots trying not to offend anyone.
  • Our bodies: women should be able to do whatever they like with their bodies but then again, I don’t like Page 3….I don’t like walking past so called gentleman’s clubs with my children. I respect a woman’s right to choose to use her body for work and yet it bothers me. Should it bother me? I don’t know :/ You see, it’s not so easy is it?
  • Do my views matter? As I am not a famous academic, a celebrity or high profile campaigner does my voice still count? I’m not sure it does and I certainly feel left out of feminism. It actually hurts me to say that. 
  • I don’t hate all men and want them all dead……..*hides*. Yep, there are a lot of shitty men out there but I also know decent ones, my dad is a very good example of a decent man. I could never hate him because of his gender, I love him. No doubt someone will tell me that I am missing the point.
  • I want to help to ‘smash the patriarchy’ if only I knew how to. I’m guessing a sledgehammer is not what is required……


I so want to think of myself as a feminist. I love women. Women are amazing. Seeing other women go through pain caused by abuse, poverty, injustice, sexism etc is just soul destroying. That is something I care about, that is something I would like to do something about. I’m just not sure that anyone is listening.


But I will always offer love, tea and hugs to ALL my sisters,





Maybe you were forged upon a crescent moon
With sparks to form your tongue
Maybe you were found under a wind battered tree
With roots to make you strong
Maybe you were sunken in the ocean grey
With the steely sharks that roam
I just don’t know where you came from
Or where you plan to go
I only know it’s not with me
The siren’s sang your song
And you will go just where she wills
And I will go alone

And you will go just where she wills
And I will go alone.

Jane Hellyer 2013.

Why ‘A Woman Alone’



A few people have asked me why I have chosen my blog title to be ‘A Woman Alone’….Yes, I know that I have children, family and friends. It goes deeper than that.

The title is a reflection of the depth of my soul, right now. The raging against the basic desire to be loved and to love and saying ‘I choose the single life’. I have built walls and battlements around my heart just in case someone tries to sneek in. I want to prove to myself that I can do this, I can do life without relying on a partner to get me through. I want to meet someone from a position of empowerment not vulnerability and neediness.

That has been my past and it took me to places I never wanted to go, places I never knew existed. Why shouldn’t I build walls? My judgement of people has been so very wrong, I thought I could trust myself. In the same breath, I am not so irreparably damaged by life that I have lost the ability to feel and care. There is no bitter shell of a woman to be seen. I still flourish and I know that my Springtime could be round the next corner.

To those who have called me an Ice Queen, to those who have said I am a single parent version of Bridget Jones……you can go take your insults and shove them somewhere painful. I’m not owning these labels that you like to throw at me. There are higher plains to be explored, my wings are no longer clipped by men who want to have me sat on throne of their making. I am not conforming to anyone’s ideal of the ‘perfect woman’.Choose to walk with me because of me,  not who you would prefer me to be. Now is my moment to live again and live life on my terms. 

I am not a victim, I am not a survivor. I am just me. 

Love and many hugs


Poem – Muse



Time to find a new muse
So difficult to come by
Has to be a darkened soul
One that makes me sweat at night
And shiver by daylight
I will wait again
For that thunder clap
Slow motion walking
And low bass tones
I will wait again
For my fires to lick up
And scorch my skin
Taking you with me
We’ll be in free fall
But I will cradle your head
Breathe in your scent
And let myself go
I will wait again
To cast off my lines
And let words flow
Dripping wet off me
I’ll run into the storm
I will wait again

Jane Hellyer 2013

I’m absolutely knackered … CFS/ME


Apparently it is ME/CFS and Fibromyalgia Awareness Day ….. I hope so anyway. Having chronic fatigue can sometimes make me a little absent minded, the whole brain fog thing!

Over the last 25 years or so I have had three different diagnosis’s (spelling?!)
Post Viral Syndrome
ME and now chronic fatigue. To be fair, I haven’t got a clue what is wrong with me now.

I have all the classic symptoms: unrefreshed sleep, brain fog, joint pain, rib pain, migraines, IBS, depression, lethargy etcetera It’s no fun at all and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I really mean that!

What really annoys me is the lack of recognition of these conditions, to the point where many health professionals still do not except it exists at all. I can tell you now, it’s very real and incredibly debilitating. Why would anyone want to make up such a nightmare illness?

Then there is the problem of benefits. I haven’t applied for any benefits relating to my CFS because I’m not sure I have the energy to cope with the process. My illness fluctuates so wildly, one day I could go climbing but for the next month I will be dragging myself about. It’s quite invisible and so sufferers go largely unnoticed and without proper help. I’m not sure that I would class myself as disabled but there are times when I wish my illness was more visible, like when I have to stand up on a bus journey despite being so exhausted that just breathing is hard.

I don’t want to sound like a moany woman. I’m just highlighting a few of the things that I and many others deal with every day. Today is a good day, today is day where I can say that I have Chronic Fatigue and that I find life quite hard at times and maybe someone with influence will listen.

Love, hugs and tea