Showing posts from February, 2013


Very draining fortnight, the statement last week, three sessions this week and next week its my 'birthday' next week. As usual I can't bear the thought of the birthday.  It's my Halloween.  At least at Christmas there's lights, decorations and chocolate everywhere.   There's been a shit load of tears and there is probably going to be a shit load more.  My supplies haven't been supplied and the poor lanky female in the cupboard whose due in about 10 ten days has lost a few lower limbs and was far from over ever endowed before.  My god, I forgot how good home grown bud can taste, even when its well immature and fresh out the oven.  Must leave the rest..

The psychiatrist wanted a nurse to be present while he takes a history.  He's quite open about the fact that he's 'working in the dark', as he puts it.  He seems to think that if he reads my file more and looks into things he's going to figure out what ever is going on for me. I wished it …


Txted my pal this morning to find out my chances of getting any weed today, she said probably not today but soon. Today is the anniversary of a still birth for the couple she gets it from.  This was enough to set me off, crying loud enough and long enough for wee man to hear and come in the room to ask why I was sad, why I was crying.  Still birth? In a hospital, with medical attention, the support of a long term partner/family/friends, a burial, a name, a date without being concussed, drugged or hit with enough mind control so you forget the specifics, feelings never go though.   Flowers, hugs, sympathetic GPs.  I don't think many of mine born after 22 weeks or so were still, to begin with anyway.  Why the little fuckers would hold onto life so hard I'll never know anymore than I know why I held on to life when I could of so easily just of let go.  Except of course to piss people off.  It was the thought of exposing my family one day that did it some days.  That would includ…


You know that scene from Tangled when she first gets out the tower and is literally swinging between proud glorious elation and weeping guiltily depression.


I'm gonna focus on the 80's.  Time, after all is the only healer and I will make more sense if I try and limit the scope of what I talk about.  Except for a couple of on going issues of course that I need to get out the way first.

My mum said today that she didn't think things would ever change with my sister and the kids will be taking away if sis turns up at school pissed and my mum isn't in.  I said she was being defeatist.  We talked about Alkysis's GP whose advice was to try and get the drinking down to a half a bottle a day and that mother thinks speed may have been recently reintroduced.  I can't see how anyone can accept a life of total misery like that without at lest pretending to be looking for ways to make things even just a little bit better.

Some stupid song on the radio was the cataly…

Ramblings from a Straight Jacket.

Right Digital Spy!!

I've joined but am still not allowed to contribute! If I could I might flag up the 'straight jacket' comment as pointlessly abusive and possibly in breach of the sites' terms and conditions.  I have dreams about being a professional writer, the blog is partly a way of working out my voice and trying out different styles, testing what I can and can not say.  It is also (and probably most importantly) for venting and a way of recording my memories (for me) as they come up because I often forget them.  I am not interested in arguing about cannabis, you don't know me or how cannabis helps me enjoy life and instantly stops any thoughts of self harm or suicide.  I have had enough misery and hopelessness in my life and am not prepared to accept a second more of it than I have to.  My current psychiatrist gave me the diagnosis of both DID and MPD which I find useful because when I'm dissociated I'm 'not there' no one is, but with MPD I …

'Like Fiction'

Someone on a forum put up the email that Jimmy Jones put up on his site about Savile.  Someone read it and replied that it 'read like fiction'.  As a past and hopefully future student of English I found that quite interesting, as was the stuff I read on Digital Spy today.

Like Fiction.

ma unkempt grammar, fidgetin voice
an messy register don't satisfy your info lust.
Soz the bastardised language, unlikely
themes and scatty tense teases but
never places in your lap the perfectly formed
balance of immaculate grammar
and convincing graphic imagery.  Ma
fractured & crushed attempts at truth
can't gratify all that starved, surging longing
for an empirically structured but hard
hitting first person narrative.  Coz any mes
(you see) that went to school, they
never got away and are all rotting
still with him in his unmarked grave
or wrapped round our friends
at the bottom of the Irish sea.

How do you know Savile to?

Over the years he took over how I was treated by other groups.  Taking away any ritualism that wasn't completely abusive.  If they refused Savile turned against them, there was some mixed feelings at seeing men who considerable themselves untouchable being treated in the same way that they had treated me.  Savile wasn't too interested in discussing nuances of Satanic theory.  He had no time for any 'genuinely religious' Satanism, he explained to the leaders how to simplify things and then demonstrated on me and others.  Harm for the sake of it which was 'real' Satanism as far as I was concerned, all that bookishness and dead languages missed the point because it didn't cause enough harm.  Of course anything that went on that didn't directly hurt me was to be cherished and he took a lot of it away from.

I looked forward to the time when Savile would introduced himself to and infiltrate the groups and bloodlines that were big on seeing Satanism as a form…

How do you know Savile?

'How do you know Savile?'

Sometimes I didn't even hear the words when people asked me.  They would have to keep asking and sometimes still not get any sort of answer.  I heard it this time though.

'You've got a lot to learn ***, Savile's a Satanist.  He's owned me my whole life.'

I started to move away I didn't want to start weeping in front of that cunt but Mory's beefy arm encircled my shoulders from behind and pulled me back into his half squidgy half solid mass.  I had to pick my issues with Mor and I didn't have the will or any need to fight this one.  He wasn't that much taller than me, his starting not much higher than the top of mine.  I leaned back against his shirt and looked up, its was all letting it's self go.  I gave a pretty pathetic almost canine sounding whimper before the tingling  numb waves smashing through my brain meant he was no longer holding me still but holding me up.  My knees had buckled but only a few t…