Tammy Bimrose Autobiography

I have overcome many tribulations in my life starting the moment I entered this life.

I was born under uncanny circumstances. Mum was informed by the doctors that we both would not survive and was asked to sign a waiver for preference(her or the baby), but Mum refused and signed a form stating that the doctors save me over herself. Lucky for both of us that we both survived.

When I was a child, my Mum and I were each other’s life threads, as we gave each other inner strength to endure our dismal life resultant of living with an alcoholic, my father. I asked the Heavens why you would give one pure loving person such heartache, and such a tragic life to bear. My Mum never deserved what she endured.

Through the strength she showed me, I endeavoured to become a more upright person, and did not want to fall into the same trap as she or my siblings, and so I tried my utmost to reach for the stars—the farther I reached, the farther away all seemed… but I never gave up.

My Mum endured being abused mentally and physically by her alcoholic husband. She had six children in total, and only two of us survive today. My family started to think ourselves jinxed, as most of the tragedies surrounded the month of December. My oldest brother, who struggled with epilepsy, drowned in December at the age of ten, a year before I was born. Another brother was stillborn, and the third brother lived a week before passing away.

My only sister, five years older than I, was in a car accident in the month December at the age of fourteen. It placed her in hospital for about seven months, during which I at the age of nine spent every Saturday or Saturday, sitting around a hospital (which was two hours from home, hence we did not celebrate that Xmas or birthdays that year). Part of my childhood felt lost, but this period made no real difference, as my whole childhood seemed to have been lost and enshrouded by adversity of one kind or another.

My sister and I were sexually molested over a period of years, from the age of nine to thirteen, by a police sergeant who befriended my father (with a supply of beer, let alone living below the poverty line), but still I never gave up. I came out the other side of childhood wiser, optimistic, wanting to make a difference; not just in my world, but other people’s lives too. I just didn’t know how yet, as I was so meek and had very low outward confidence; this still hinders my efforts.

Through all I have experienced, I always reminded myself that there were people worse off than I and this is what I constantly reminded my wheelchair-bound sister—that she could still see and hear the world. I considered all that I went through as a child was nothing in comparison to what others had endured.

My sister had crushed one of her neck vertebrae in the car accident; consequently, visiting her in hospital was daunting. I saw a room full of young adults lying stiff in their beds with metal tongs, and apparatus screwed into either side of their skulls for approximately six months so they couldn’t move their heads.

Could you imagine lying stretched out in one place like an ironing board for that long, and the only parts of your body that you can move are your arms, mouth, eyes and twitch your nose? A typical visit at the hospital was to listen to at least one crying out in sorrow, which was unbearable for me at nine years of age. I had to be witness to my sister’s heartache as well as all the others’, seeing them coming to the realisation of being wheelchair-bound for the rest of their life; my sister was the youngest in the ward, and her life hadn’t really started.

She left the hospital as a quadriplegic, paralysed from the neck down. From the age of twelve I was the one to help with her toileting and showering and attending solely to her accidental bowel movements of all hours of the night, when she would unexpectedly pull into the driveway.

As we did not have a home phone, and I was the only person she trusted enough to help in her darkest hours, I can say that was no fun as she always wore very tight denim jeans. But I loved her and she always knew she could lean on her little sister to come to her rescue with a happy, chirpy manner, even though this was hard on my back (resulting in scoliosis and acute back problems), but I never complained.

Before she turned twenty, she tried committing suicide two times, resulting in her being taken to the hospital to have her stomach pumped. What I realized, and made me very angry, was that when she was released from hospital after her car accident there was no psychological counseling—only physical rehabilitation, showing her exercises and how to use helpful gadgets.

The horrible truth was that she was suddenly thrown into a wheelchair at the age of just fifteen, and thrown to the curb as if to say, “see you later; have a great life;”. You got to be kidding.

Hence, there was the downward spiral of her emotional state, as she couldn’t even live with our parents (due to our father) and so she relied on carers who ripped her off along the way, again annoying the crap out of me—some have no qualms in ripping a disabled person off; it’s pathetic!

I was always trying to bring optimism into her world, as much as I could, seeing that she really struggled accepting her life in a wheel chair. She succumbed to follow in our father’s footsteps, and drinking her life away, but I have to say she also partied hard.

I was successful at cheering her up many a time when she wanted to give up. One wonderful happening was that she had a son who was naturally conceived and she gave birth naturally, which I was comical with her as she didn’t feel the labour pains. See; there is always optimism if you wish to see through the obscurity of your existence—it just depends what angle you choose to see from. I had to learn to see the world with the glass half-full attitude; otherwise all would have felt lost and all would have smothered me eventually, as I had seen happen to others (and I was not going to succumb to this void).

All these past experiences have shaped me into the person I am today. I always step into the other person’s shoes, which drives my family bonkers at times. I always see the best in all people and life in general.

There is a reason why people do what they do; my father’s father was an alcoholic, and my father wasn’t strong enough to not follow in his footsteps. My sister was not strong enough either, but they both were very docile people with huge hearts and the alcohol took control and got in the way. The policeman also was a kind man, crying out for love in the wrong way from the wrong source, still inexcusable; but I do see through their eyes and they were not strong enough and fell into an abyss,  and didn’t have inner strength to ask for help before falling. All is very crappie, but if you don’t look at all intricacies of all sides of the cube, all can be lost as are many lives.

Every day, you listen to the news and it is filled with death and negativity, so I am glad to be now intertwined by optimism and hope which is to shine throughout the world, giving all a shoulder to lean on giving a renewed hope and faith for a better tomorrow for all and not just some.

My sister passed away at the age of thirty in the month of December, two months before my mum passed away.

My sister and brother had left home at the age of fourteen. I, on the other hand, was too timid to have the guts to run away from home. I wanted to have Mum’s blessing, and I begged her to leave with me, but she insisted on staying as she was not mentally strong enough to leave. However, she knew it was time for me to depart, as all was not good.

So I at the age of fifteen had to grow up very rapidly to enter the big bewildering world, solo—and so I found a full-time job, saved a modest amount of money to rent a flat and then with Mum’s blessing, moved out while my father slept. I never wanted to give up on school, but I had to way up my sanity with education.

I have to acknowledge that I hated school immensely, but I would rather be at school than at home under the same roof as my father. I was teased greatly for wearing crappie clothes given that wearing a school uniform was not compulsory. I was ridiculed for having an alcoholic father, living below the poverty line and later was taunted because my sister was in a wheelchair and so she must be a ‘retard’ (their wording). I found out very early in life how cruel other children could be. Inevitably, I started walking around in a world I did not wish to be in. I asked God many times, why, why, why? Never got my answers I so desired (until now, it seems).

I met my first husband at a church that I was attending by uncanny happenstance. I met Laine at the age of fifteen, married at eighteen-and-a-half, and divorced a year-and-a-half later. We were married too young due to his mother’s wishes, as she was a devoted Christian. He died four years later, the night he gave a testimony giving his all to God at the church he attended in front of a congregation of over two hundred. He drove two minutes down the road and had a single car accident, killing him instantly.

At the age of sixteen to the age of seventeen I worked full-time at a department store, Kmart, then went on and worked in an interior decorating store until I was nineteen, when I quit due to my boss’ antics.

I had three job interviews, resulting in three job offers. My brother in-law, who was a builder, suggested that I accept the real-estate job, and so I did. This is where I met the man of my dreams.

I had to go to a meeting at another office over an hour away, and while in the meeting this gorgeous dark haired man wearing a black leather jacket stood in the door way and our eyes met. Well, that was it—love at first sight. We joke about it, as he felt what I felt—as if we already knew each other. There is a mysterious story that goes to this sequence of events, but I will fill you in later.

We have been together nineteen years. We, too, have had many ups and downs, but we know the grass is not greener on the other side. We have four children; two girls and two boys. We finally got married in 2010, in Vanuatu.

In about 2005, I fell across a Reiki course and became a Rieki Master and Seichim Master. I was impressed that it actually worked, as I am somewhat of a skeptic when it comes to all atypical things in life and typical in truth.

I only use Reiki on myself and my family, with great results, and now I know why that is. I am a very bashful person with a failure complex resultant of my childhood taunting I received, and so I tend to keep all I have gained to myself and open up only to a minority.

I wanted to finally fulfill one of my childhood dreams and be the only family member to finish year twelve, and to partake in further education, but this did not happen.

So when my third child was three, I thought I finally had a chance to  accomplish this, so I decided I would like to become a Naturopath and or Homeopath. I went to the library and checked out all the books I could find on chemistry, as the first step was to sit a chemistry bridging exam. I chose this alternative therapy due to seeing amazing firsthand results many times, especially with my family.

Now I have to say I was never a scholar at school. The grades I got were from a lot of hard work in the little time and peace I had to study. I learn everything the hard way, as I do not have a photographic memory or a good memory for in-depth facts and figures, hence my worst subject in high school was science. However, as an adult I was actually enjoying it and had faith that I might actually pass.

But then the most out-of-the-park occurrence happened, and I found out I was pregnant with my fourth child, throwing a future career out the window; I knew it was going to be a hard slog with caring for four children and my partner. I felt lost for a long while, even though I was extremely busy with my family.

I spent the first thirty-five years of my life on the Sunshine Coast, in Queensland, Australia. I had no reason to leave, since I lived in one of the most beautiful places in Australia where others so wished to be, but we reluctantly moved to a small town halfway between Brisbane and the Sunshine Coast to be closer to my partner, Arno’s work.

He was commuting an hour and half to Brisbane for four years while completing a bachelor’s degree in Project Management, passing with honours. He worked for a commercial project management firm in Brisbane, commuting for an additional year, and so he had enough of the tiring journey—hence the move.

I packed solo and we moved exactly four weeks after I had a Caesarean birth with my fourth child, even though my doctor advised against any heavy lifting or strenuous exercising for six weeks. However, as most Mums know, we have to carry on regardless, since most mothers never find time to rest. Now, having four kids, well… I can say I have not had one non-interrupted night’s sleep in fifteen years.

Try, try and try again: after a while, I thought I could do a correspondence course. I found assignment-based Chinese Herbalism Therapist, Shiatsu Massage Therapist, and Acupressure courses. These I could do in the little spare time I had, with running children back and forth to and from school, along with extracurricular activities the children were involved in.

The setback I had in completing these courses swiftly (besides the no spare time issue) was that (as I’ve mentioned) my fear of failure and that I am overly shy. Hence, I chose to do them by correspondence; no getting up in front of people, and I was able to take my time with my assignments, allowing me to be meticulous,. And so I gained full marks for all assignments I submitted, which boosted my self-esteem somewhat.

I was nearly finished with the first, and halfway through my second and third courses, when I was impeded by family life. The clincher was when Michael entered my busy world the second time, and asked me to come on a journey in healing the world, and to keep meticulous records of all. Hence Our Journal, Our Journey came into existence, consequently no spare time left for anything else.

Michael did a wonderful job, slowly befriending me and opening my heart and mind to his existence, as to not shock me for what he was to divulge later.

He gave many hints, one was for him to be able to come to me the way he has is for a very special reason: God had all to do with this, and the distinctive attribute that I am just a common populace person (with no expertise in communicating with spirits and etc. and all the past tribulations and experiences) was paramount at this point in time.

My entire life, my beliefs, all emotions and all supposed reality have been put into a mystical blender and unexpectedly whipped into a new extraordinary consecrated compound; creating an outcome that is without doubt astonishing to say the least, resulting in a true hope and faith of a better future for all—not just a few, making my childhood wish becoming a reality… if all will open their hearts and mind as I have.

My life’s vista has abruptly changed, and now I have been asked to tackle something inimitable… a fresh undertaking has been asked of me; to step out from the shadows and be courageous and help give all a shoulder to lean on as sanctioned via Michael; to team up with him and give all humanity a renewed faith for a better tomorrow.

I so hope not to falter, as I know that this task asked of me to undertake is going to be a hard slog for many obvious reasons.

I have never been one to keep a diary, let alone write for the fun of it. I assure you that all I write is fact, as I have no expertise in writing fiction; even at school I was hopeless in writing fiction, and coming up with ideas for stories just wasn’t in my make up in life.

The expertise I do have (though  I thought was no such talent), was that I can remember conversations—”he said/ she said” that had happened months in the past if not years.

I have an astounding penchant for common sense, and moderate scholarly knowledge. I’m definitely not a walking talking textbook and I’m hopeless at remembering even people’s last names, let alone first names.  So, to be asked to keep a meticulous journal and write all is overwhelming due to time constraints. At the same time, it is actually easy, as it is all fact. I just didn’t sign up for editing and proper grammar; I tend to write how I speak with a few added adjectives to describe how it was said.

I am a person; what you see is what you get—no hidden agenda, no greed: I only have a wish to help all who cross my path. I have always been one to cheerfully deal with whatever is thrown my way, and so this is no different.

Since Michael has been in my life, I have had to examine my entire life. I have to plausibly acknowledge that all were not coincidence, but to help me become stronger and to prepare me for what is to apparently come along the path I now find myself on, and blow me away. It so happens to be somewhat spiritual and religious; go figure.

My life is a roller-coaster ride; my childhood was a hurricane. At this moment in time, I feel the sun’s warmth on my face—I feel all emotions, and I am ecstatic and honoured that Michael has found a way into my life. I am gratified in knowing that there is more to life after we die. I am hesitant to bring all of what I have experienced and currently experiencing to the world, seeing that I have a load of fears, even though I know I have many people supporting me above, and here on earth.

Throughout my childhood, I struggled with blind faith that God existed, as every corner I turned I was involuntarily caught up in one tragedy after another. My childhood felt like being trapped in one long nightmare that you could not wake up from, as much as you tried.

But I had to acknowledge that all severe tragedies were mysteriously stopped or diverted; analogous to an invisible “Good Samaritan” grabbing you out of the way of an oncoming train just in the nick of time—at the same time the train jumps the tracks, breaking the laws of physics. See how unbelievable that sounds? Well that’s my life; uncanny occurrences that cannot be plausibly explained unless you bring a Divine force into the equation.

Some say God works in mysterious ways; I have to agree. After coming to this realisation of God plausibly existing, I had many questions about the factuality of the Bible, after short stints attending Sunday School due to “Good Samaritans” of the human kind who felt sorry for my sister and me.

My first husband was Christian, and my second husband was divergent as he considered himself an atheist (due to his experiences in childhood). Later, he believed it plausible that there was a God, an All, but everyone calls this highest entity, this energy by different names—but both our beliefs and ideas have changed and grown since having Michael and the others come into our lives. They have opened our hearts and minds to all of life’s questions and quandaries.

Arno is my confidant, and knows all that I am, and so he knows I can’t lie; even if my life depended on it. He knows I am no scholar, and so knows I cannot reasonably come up with all I receive through Michael and the others, and I have no reason at all to make crap up. Our reputations and our children’s reputations are on the line, and I would never wish to have anything bad happen to them in their lives, let alone see any more heartache in my own life.

I think all would have to agree and that I have no need to have my “fifteen minutes of fame” that so many dream of having. I am just too shy to wish to experience any form of prominence and so I have further hesitation in doing what is asked of me.

The information and names that come through to me are mostly unknown to me. Arno and some of my friends are witness as the information comes through. I then have to go on the Internet to find out what or who they are, and how it fits into the ever-growing puzzle. So, you see that I can’t seem to get off this roller-coaster ride, but this ride I am enjoying.

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