I know you’ve had you had a lot on.

it’s time to marry your trauma worm. meet the silly simulation with radical ridiculousness.

i’m too much. the fibroid farming spoken word survivor.

i’ve had a lot on.

no i mean it. it was a chernobyl style timing of support system failures (or successes depending on what side you’re on) and i could probably boil it all down to how my dad treated me but i wont.

i finally got news the medical negligence claim was unsuccessful so i can wear my hospital gown again in public. hear me out (or straight to the socials @t.M___o)

Imagine you move to a new city for work, on an urgent waiting list for a benign tumour removal. you are planning a tour, you are contractually living the dream.

alas.

within weeks, your boss has stolen from you and you have found yourself isolated from what would later be revealed to be a cult. they tell you you are hard work and the gaslighting does give you vivid nightmares.

you escape the cult because you go to live at salford royal hospital for a month, and then another month. the huge amounts of cortisol promoted the rapid growth of these tumours which in turn obstruct both of your kidneys. double hydronephrosis. fucking hell. super painful. super scary.

during your hospital admission, the man who says he loves you leaves for the other woman . AGAIN. your mum is dead and dad estranged and you are weak. you forgive everyone. you dont really have visitors. you write an album from your hospital bed, your record label promises they wont but they drop you anyway. the cult cotinues to cult, they scream at you down the phone whilst you are fighting for your life.

28 staples, 9 major surgeries (some of them awake) , one hlrcc diagnosis LAter, you come back down south to share your story. you collaborated with other artists and had your nine removed fibroids (not including the two still left in) remade to scale, you wrote a theory on the similarities between trauma and carrying a big worm around everywhere you go.

you healed. you became relatively sober and strictly gluten free. you have a couple of weird interactions, on the search for stages to express yourself on only to find, 18 months later, you are now too void of internet clout whilst simultaneously ‘too much’ for the poetry scene you used to frolick within. the poetry community! the advocates of free speech ! oh no! Also you have not had a gyno appointment in over a year and there is a fibroid blocking the opening to your uterus so you cannot get a smear test either.

hahahahaha.

this is not my first rodeo. but yeah im not even 33 and its been a lot i know im not the only one and ive exoerience the levels in which your voice will be devalued in the name of convenience.

let’s talk about fibroids. about womens health and the stress that our bodies are storing. lets talk uterine issues and misogyny and system protection and censorship. lets talk accountability, collective and individual, lets talk politics. lets talk the crabs in the bucket attitude that comes from insecure people trying to control things. lets talk the power of words and the ferocity of survivors and lets be kind through action and progression, and ultimately, change.

fibroids have the same incidence as male pattern baldness.

chronic stress and inflammation will destroy your fertility

the fertililty of women seems to be a big marker of their value.

im not a doctor but ive got a lot of insight on the feminine plight and i express myself through art, through film, through poetry.

ive got a gig at bar dona tomorrow night 09.04 with verses poetry. you should come, or follow my weird journey, or tell your fibroid carrying friends that im trying to change stuff. thanks for your time, arent you glad that wasnt a fundraiser!

@t.m___o

@ivehadaloton

contact@ivehadaloton.com

interviews/bookings/collaborations/mad stuff.