“Dimity meets a Dinosaur”

When I was in Year 3 (age 7 years old), there was a national competition where students were asked to write/illustrate their own original story. While some chose to have their story printed (on paper, cut for the pages) and do their own illustrations..I chose to both write by hand and illustrate my story. Just like all the other kids around me, I was into the Dinosaur-phase, my favourite being the Tyrannosaurus Rex (no idea why, it just was). I decided to call my story, “Dimity meets a dinosaur” (quite appropriate).

The story was about a girl called Dimity, whom meets a Tyrannosaurus Rex, become friends and do things together including playing Cricket and video-games (Nintendo, I never had one but always did want one). At the end they got married, had babies (how? I will never know but it’s what was in the story) and that was it. I’m not an illustrator so the pictures weren’t special but I tried my hardest, but I paid more attention to making my writing as perfect as I could.

A couple of months went by (honestly I have forgotten how long exactly, but long enough for a competition), and I found out that I came second in my division for the competition. The prizes for the competion (at least what I and the others received that won) are: a gift certificate with the local bookshop, some free children’s books, a certificate (I think) and reading the story out loud onto the local radio station. My consolation prize at the time was that I had the Chicken Pox. I remember clearly being all spotty and itchy, standing in line with the other kids and shaking someone’s hand before receiving a book.

Sadly now I have lost my only copy of the book, although fortunately still have a a copy of the recording from the radio. When I was in Year 1 (5 years old) I received a medal from the Government for reading over 100 books in a short period of time. Books, Book Week, reading/writing, libraries, author meetings, etc are a huge part of my life. I’m always making notes when I hear, imagine or read something interesting and have them compired in a safe spot for my writing adventures. I’m never giving up on my dreams, never have then and I never will now. My journey started early.

The magic within us

If you haven’t noticed already, there have been some changes implemented to my blog. The first one is it now has it’s own domain name (although www.themagicwithinus.com will take you here), it’s URL is now: http://themagicwithinus.com/ . Some other changes are a background and a few other things (new improvements to come).

Although I had other ideas of names for the domain, including “iamfreetobeme” and “uniquelyyou”, they were already registered by other users. I love magic (especially illusion magic), and even with encopresis you can still find that “magical something” that makes us truely unique. Whether it’s a quirk, a gift or talent, to each of us there is a magic…what type of magic it is is up to you to find. Also “themagicwithinus” is gender neutral, at least I think so. One of my dreams as a child (and still is to this day) is to be an Illusionist‘s assistant.

Welcome to my blog for 2013. I hope you enjoy reading and sharing it as much as I do in writing it. When I have other noticable updates (including the ability to e-mail me via this blog), then I will make it known to you. Enjoy, keep safe, never give up on your dreams and stay true to yourself.

I am not as alone as I thought I was

After recently joining a Encopresis group on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/groups/211406189068339/), I am realieved that I’m not as lone as originally thought.

There are some misconeceptions about what is actually happening. One involves assumption that the child is “lazy” or not want to go toilet, when in reality he/she does not know why. When our body doesn’t give us a strong indication of “needing to go” and our smell receptors can’t actually smell it….as far as we know nothing has happened. To the rest of the world, we have. Parents (and enco kids) can be rest assured that they will grow out of it in time. I did, and that’s why I call myself a Encopresis Survivor (if you can be a cancer survivor why not be a encopresis survivor??).

The poem (and a previous entry) titled “I am just a girl” is an insight into how one feels inside with it.

It’s socially taboo to talk about it (not to mention smelling of it), and yet there are children suffering alone and in silence because of it. I may not know all the answers, but I will share what I do. I’m here for you. E-mail me anytime at naturegirl015admin@themagicwithinus.com

My love to you all!! xx Never give up parents, but please be patient.

An Ode to CAN

There has been an ad on TV recently for the Commonwealth Bank, and they use this beautiful poem. It’s powerful in its meaning that I thought I would share it here. I claim no ownership and no copyright infringement intended. Grammatically it should be edited but that’s how it’s written. If interested here is the ad (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2psopYv5sZs) Enjoy…

AN ODE TO CAN

There’s a four lettered word

As offensive as any

It holds back the few

Puts a stop to the many.

You can’t climb that mountain

You can’t cross the sea

You can’t become anything you want to be.

He can’t hit a century

They can’t find a cure.

She can’t think about leaving

or searching for more.

Because can’t is a word with a habit of stopping

The ebb and flow of ideas

It keeps dropping itself where we know

in our hearts it’s not needed

And saying “don’t go”

when we could have succeeded.

But those four little letters

That end with a T

They can change in an instant

When shortened to three.

We can take off the T

We can do it today

We can move foward not back

We can find our own way.

We can build we can run

We can follow the sun

We can push we can pull

We can say I’m someone

Who refuses to believe

That life can’t be better

With the removal of one

Insignificant letter.

“I am just a girl” (a poem about what it’s like to be me, as a teen, with encopresis)

me in cupboard

This is a poem written about my personal life experiences with Encopresis. Although some of the words written in the poem didn’t actually happen, the emotion behind it is the same. To anyone to hasn’t gone through with this (and very lucky), this poem might seem strange but for me and others like me it’s life. It was a major part of my life, and reveals how I felt and thought. I’m claiming it. So enjoy, and read it from the heart.

I AM JUST A GIRL

I poo in my pants,

But I can’t help it y’know.

My body doesn’t tell me

When I need to go.

I might have just done it.

I could be dirty and smell.

But my nose tells me nothing

So I really don’t know.

At school they avoid me,

Around town as well.

‘Best stay away from that girl

Cos she stinks like hell.’

I hide soiled pants,

Stick them out of the way.

I’ll still get told off

But at least not today.

I did it at school

And I started to cry.

The class started laughing,

I just wanted to die.

The teacher moved me away

To a separate classroom.

‘You can stay on your own,

No one will sit next to you.’

Will a boy ever like me?

Will I ever find love?

A boy who won’t tease me,

For what my body does.

Why am I like this?

I’d rather be you:

Have friends and be happy,

And use the toilet to poo.

I’ve just done it again

Out shopping with Mum.

She’s angry and shows it;

She can smell what I’ve done.

She shouts in the street

So everybody can hear,

‘You smell like a sewer,

Can’t take you anywhere.’

‘You’re disgusting and lazy,

Why don’t you go to the loo?

No-one else poos their pants,

You’re fifteen, not two.’

‘I’m just so embarrassed

To have a daughter like you.’

She forgets I have feelings

And I hate it too.

I don’t choose to do it,

But that’s what they think.

That I must want messy pants

And I must want to stink.

I’m sat on the toilet,

It’s difficult to poo;

My tract is blocked up,

I’ve got stomach ache too.

I want to be normal,

I so want to live,

Go to sleepovers and parties

And have fun on school trips.

Why not ask me to visit?

We can talk, laugh and play.

Just say if I smell,

I’ll change straight away.

Let’s have a sleepover,

Your bed will be safe.

I’ll bring my spare pants,

Go on – it’ll be great!

Why can’t we be friends?

I’d like to know you.

I am a nice person

And I’m sure you are too.

You can’t catch what I’ve got,

You won’t get it as well.

So please, I’m not a monster,

I am just a girl.