Please SHARE if you can. So once again people asking why I do my job when I get such awful abuse from people such as a Mr Y and it results in hearings like today? Well look at this, this is a new Tory policy which will ask if a woman has been raped and abused if she has more than three kids, and applying for tax credits. This is an actual thing.

There are many women on my fab page who have been abused and for them to be asked to prove a baby is born out of sexual abuse or rape makes me feel physically sick. Many abused women cannot even think about the abuse they suffered in order to obtain counselling, never mind to re-live the horrors just to get a little extra tax credits.

Someone on twitter asked me this: Rosa without becoming hysterical how else do we prove that this child is born recklessly? My answer is this. It doesn’t matter why a child appears on earth or if a parent is unreliable; as one of the richest countries in the world it should be the job of the rich to find enough for our children. Another questions I was asked. What if parents are junkies or alkys? Very few of the parents I’ve EVER met, or my sister in her third sector work, have ended in such a mess through choice but more usually a catalogue of catastrophic life neglect. Even if a parent is an addict we still have to do what is best for a child. Imagine a third child was born to a woman through rape, the woman then becomes addicted because of the rape trauma….. Do we then punish them? No. Also this would affect women like me who are on an ordinary wage and have a “normal” life. If I am raped. I have to prove it.

And finally many many women are victims of abuse in relationships. Serious sexual assault and rape. They just don’t know it because it’s “in a relationship” so how would they defend the rights of that third child.

Any child could be the next First Minister, scientist which cures cancer, or the next BeyoncΓ©. They can be ANYTHING. It is our job as a wealthy society to give them the best we can. If you have money in a bank account and change in your pocket they say you are in the worlds top percentages of wealth. Do we really have to force women to prove they have been raped? Where is humanity?

So I support women like this. Elected or not, I will fight for them; because they are humans beings. Daughters, mothers, sisters. If YOU have been or will be effected by these issues there is always help and love available.

Please please love each other more.

This form is NOT now nor never in my name.


Last Day of De Depression

One of my favorite sights in the wide world is Airbles Road (bear with me) in spring. There is nothing more beautiful than when all the daffodils come out. They make everything which is so mundane and ordinary, look beautiful.

At the start of this diary I felt like a black fog had surrounded me, engulfed me and I couldn’t see a way out. All I could see was failing at council, kids who were suffering, pain, worry and chronic loneliness.

It was all consuming and I didn’t want to, nor feel able to leave my house. It took texts, calls, doctor, visits and a lot of encouragement to gradually come back to life. For my family and friends I will never ever take your love or patience for granted. I’ve gone from not being able to leave, to leaving with hair like candy floss and a lightness in my wee soul. I guess I realised I couldn’t fix everything, especially my kids, but I could love them and help them grow.

I remember one day after the snow was quite heavy I looked out my front window and saw a small daffodil had bloomed, I’ve picked it and put it in a book. I want to keep it forever. That day, for some reason, I remembered we all have dark periods but no one is ever gone forever in depression. My mum has suffered from this horrible illness most of her life and without her I would never got through this. Yesterday she said she wished she was better but if she had to pick one of us to get their health back she would always pick me first. I know that to be a hundred percent true, it’s such all consuming love which makes me me. She is everything that reminds me to come back.

I did this diary because social media is often very fake. Sometimes if we share, and I mean really share then we can help. There is a beautiful poem called Daffodils by William Wordsworth. I’ll leave the last verse below. If you are suffering from depression, remember the Daffodils, take a rest but remember spring always comes and you’ll be back too.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Day 29: The Last Hoorah

So today was an odd one. I had a scan (which was easier than I thought). New pink hair. A coffee with one of my best boy pals, which helps me put life into perspective. I also had my final full council meeting as Councillor Zambonini.

I thought I’d be emotional, upset, tears but I wasn’t; I had a sense of peace. I did more than I thought I ever would and I know in my heart I will serve again. I believe politics is my calling but my life is my children and now it’s time watch them.

I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful life and it’s not always easy but it’s mine. As I continue to take my tablets, make different choices and take a wee back seat in some areas; I can feel the depression slipping away.

I will never forget this period in my life and to be thankful for good mental health. I also want to thank every colleague, friend and my amazing family who have supported me in what was a baptism of fire in the political world, without their support, well who knows….

As for those glad to see the back of me; in the immortal words of Arnos “I’ll be back”

Day 29: Part 1

I need a happy post for this. I’ve realised not only has the Zoloft helped on my journey but my tones of friends and family.

I’ve been setting wee happy challenges. Post a photo of your relationship with me in the comments.

Old bad happy sad….. anything….. memories are my happiest place


Day 27: Mother’s Day

So on Mother’s Day It’s not always easy. Some people don’t have a mum and some don’t have kids. Memories and emotions are high, and maybe a wee bit sad. Some kids don’t have daddies that can take them card shopping or money for big bunches of flowers.

What they do have are big hearts which write wee notes which say “use this last Β£5 for anything, you give us everything. I’m sorry I can only give you this”. Yet by only giving me her last fiver Skye gave me the best present I’ve ever had.

Charlie also used all her pocket money to make sure I had my first ever card from my BIG daughter and lovely lush bombs. It reminded me once again that social media can make us feel so pressured to have the perfect mediafamilylife but what even is that? I’ve been doing my wee anxiety diary and I’ve learned through loads of DMs that we ALL have very unique and interesting lives.

Very few of the people on my Facebook have the perfect situation, including me; but what you should remember is sometimes what’s not perfect for others is perfect for you


Day 15: POP

One of the things about fibromyalgia is that your ligaments and joints aren’t as strong as everyone else’s. I lifted Skye the other day and my shoulder was a bit sore.

Yesterday I moaned and moaned to James about the pain in my shoulder and eventually he dispatches me to Edinburgh royal where a kindly nurse, then doctor tells me my shoulder has come out of the joint and gone back in, but just not properly. The doctor asks where I work and when I say Parliament he looks a bit funny, then he looks at my notes and says “Wishaw? I follow politics you’re not that Councillor who takes he selfies are you?”.

I decide a I want to die a little inside. Red neck. So they give me some nice injection and then put my shoulder back to where it belongs. The doctor looks at me and says “im guessing you won’t be taking a selfie of this”. Wrong!!!! If I’m getting a nice blue sling then I’m gonna show the world!

The up side of the mortification is that i went to the hospital all by myself and I wasn’t even nervous (much) I feel like a corner has been turned…. now remember troops, even when in pain, always be your best selfie πŸ˜‰

ps: I have a lot on my plate etc etc but for some reason I actually decided to tell everyone in Holyrood about my injury like it was a badge of honour (such a child) so if you’ve heard the story eleventy million times then – sorry!


Day 13: Courage Under Fire

Today wee Skye had a physio appointment in our house. The physio Lyndsey is amazing and she also treats my fab nephew Carlo. Thank heavens for or NHS. She told wee Skye that her hamstrings are doing well but sadly there has been a big deterioration in her Achilles and it’s now time for her to sleep with splints every night; and wear a splint on her left foot daily.

Further to that she will now need a wheel chair for long days and in the future she will spend weeks at a time in a cast from the waist down to give her legs a full stretch. Skye just laughed and said “oh man we are gonna be like the clampits with three of us in a wheel chair in Italy”.

Then she went off to make us some pasta for dinner as she is learning to cook. She is such an amazing, positive, happy spirit. I felt crushed for her and yet she wasn’t crushed for herself. My job is to do what makes her happy and carry on as normal. To all the parents of kids who have disabilities, tonight you have my heart