Welcome 2014..

Winter Fest was pretty lovely.  There's no getting away from the improvement in general base levels of depression, anxiety, feeling controlled and terror at intrusive memories for the moment anyway.. Lots of chuffedness at the presents we got ourselves and the old privileged parts who usually turn up at the end/beginnings of years were quite impressed with everything, but they are generally very happy anyway to be away from the privilege and from being part of determining injustice, current life is like a big ethical glamping commune for them.  At the other end of the scale things a much better too, benefits are ok and we are not paying the credit debt so the "having nothing = being nothing" feelings are triggered less.  Much more able to ask the friend whose not a big spender himself to bail us out instead of excepting suffering as 'what your here for'.  Hogmany, like Christmas day was just us and junior, like it should of been last year but was too worried the depression would mean making a Xmas for a five year old impossible.  No such fears this year.

The Watkins trial was of course, horrendous. The little (and not so little) 'all we need is friends and everything will be fine' parts were a bit disappointed that no one twitter who has read anything we have said about Watkins sent any non solicited 'hang on in there' tweets.  For a couple of weeks it was almost like being back in refuge in Fife.  I guess if and when we talk about him to any authorities again my disclosures are much less likely to be met with 'that's ridiculous', not that was likely to be a genuine reaction, as it was the same plain clothes female police person that said 'you can't be a slave, your not ... (a person, human, don't count, whatever) or something of that ilk.  She and her partner are not the same two extremely non professional police women who greeted the abuser when he entered the meeting room before he dragged me to the toilet in the Women's Aid office and raped me and who said 'what did you expect' after I pulled up my pants and jeans and went back into to room to scared to do anything else.  Bits of it is getting clearer but other bits not so.  I dont know it was one of the Women's Aid workers that phoned the police because they had been so useless and some of them verbally abusive themselves.  I do remember a strong one of us telling us through the sobbing and the shaking and whatever crap that the rape squad women were saying that they probably didn't know that although the DID means I find it really hard to remember people, people did sometimes remember me and not everyone supports organised sexual abuse.  We weren't surprised when uniformed officers walked in and unlike the women I didnt assume they were abusers too.  Thank goodness they weren't.

At the station there was loads of switching, check-how-weird-we-are-ness and the usual off the record conversations about what we are, where we've been, who knows what, where we are going and what problems may arise that we get from non abuser police or at least those who would prefer not to abuse.  Can't remember them taking me back to the refuge or stroking my hair until I fell asleep. Really didn't intend to get into this again but apparently we are...    It was maybe the next day or soon after that I left the refuge and saw a police car opposite with a WPC inside looking a me. I had no idea why she was there. I remembered nothing about the rape but never forgot how the verbal made us feel. I think because I saw a women officer I didn't like it.  If I'd seen a male, or two officers together I just would of thought something like 'oh yeah, all that mad shit is still going on....wonder if she's there to intimidate or make me feel safer'.  There does seem to be have more real people at the office after the rape and the time in the station, like the charity/activist woman who wasn't with WA.  She listened to me stumble on trying to explain rituals and programming and cults and celebs and politicians, without pulling any faces but looked gravely concerned at times and then calmly stated 'It sounds like your being trafficked'.  She said lots of the usual stuff that victims need to hear if they are ever going to be survivors mostly about it not being my imagination, that it wasn't my fault for being raped even though I kept going up to the office to talk and still stayed in the refuge despite knowing Women's Aid was not safe and that the police who were supposedly coming to talk to me were mostly if not all abusers.  When she asked if I would blame a woman for going to men who she knew would exploit her and I instantly said no that the penny dropped, oh course it wasn't my fucking fault.  All those years and some of us still struggle in getting past the programming about women not being 'real' abusers.  She woke up a grower, a learner that had been stuck in victimhood and destructive programming for ten years or so.  Thank you, whoever you are.

The reason we ended up going through bits of all that again is that before Christmas, we got a sense that there was a late evening visit from a uniformed officer not long after we moved here.  As before I went to Women's Aid (not Fife, although at times it might as bloody well of been) asking for refuge and they contacted police, so about 3 years ago, if it happened at all.  When it came back before I had a lot more than I do now, like he phoned first and asked if he could talk to me about something (DID) and I said ok the lad is sleeping or wasn't here and that I was presuming this is off the record so I won't remember it tomorrow but as he had brought it up and admitted it was off record he might as well come over and talk about because I was on lost time anyway and not going to remember.  He might of said something that we weren't entirely sure how to take, like asking if was I was sure, he didn't want to put me any increased risk or make us iller, or would we feel safe enough to talk.  Seemed to feel ok, not too desperate to communicate with another (any other) living soul that meant glaring risks could be ignored and he had already said he would be coming alone.  Have very little about the actual talking when he got here, had more when this bubbled up through the excellent weed we got the week before Christmas, it was calm, chatty but serious to.  I was a me, not all that different to who I am now, just with much less amnesia (or less anxiety about the amnesia because she knew if she needed it she could find it) so therefor more confident, also just plain terrified by my whole life at times to though but glad we were talking to someone who seemed to have an ongoing relationship with reality without completely sacrificing their humanity.  I think it was a 'we know what your saying, we know its all true, its fucking awful, hands are tied, your amazing, if there is anything else we can do just let us know' type convo.  The only really clearish bits is telling him that the first thing that would happened the next day when I walked into to living room would be that I would smell him and how this would cause some of us to think the absolute worst, some to think the best 'oh amnesia and no trauma, we must be in charge of ourself and that means we can't loose' the somewhere in the middles 'hmmm has someone taken a lover and not told me' (we do not approve of this is general), then eventually somewhere near the truth, 'bloody police, I presume this means fuck all is happening'.  He agreed that the latter was indeed the case which made us plummet momentarily before remembering we already knew this.   I do remember the words he used that unlike the rest of it has never really left the consciousness, when I showed him to the door, he repeated what he said when sitting on the couch 'Don't trust S***** (policewomen who talked to us briefly in St Andrews, saw me a few times in 2010 and took the Savile et al statement in March).  I think he talked about her a fair bit but we've got nothing atm.  It wound some of us up considerably not being able to place the voice whenever it was repeated internally in the days and weeks after.  In terms of all police women that we've talked face to face to, she's one of the nicer ones but as for trusting her...  eesh.  Growing up we learned that people who seemed nicer than people who were obviously horrible are sometimes much worse, they are often the bosses.. MP has a police meeting sometime this month, guess we will take it from there.

In other news, the spidermonkey and bro are currently staying with their gran in separate accommodation from my troubled sister.. so much easier to feel for her when she is not downing vodka for breakfast whilst caring for the wee ones or in the same room as me, soo many triggers for soo many parts.  Mum told the social worker (who everyone seems to like) that the kids would be with her for time being, he said Alkysis should not have them over night for three months and can only see the kids if mum says its ok.  It doesn't look good for Alysis but it never has, has it?  On the other hand, my mother did contacted social services herself about it and since then (as far as we know) found it easier and easier to tell the truth, she quit her job because she couldn't leave the kids or take them here every time she had to go work, moved out to a two bedroom place near them, for herself but also so kids have somewhere to go when their mum is drunk and is now prepared to take them full time, depending on what happens of course.  She also tells my sister when she thinks she's lieing about how much or whats she's been drinking.  That's not the mother I knew in the Glen, Aberdeenshire..



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