September 28, 2015

hate titles

Thirtytwo in his class. We're not comfortable with that as a class size for a any kid but for our kid and the evil shit thats happened in primary schools in recent years and beyond it fucking terrifies us. He was talking this afternoon about getting into trouble for not listening, fidgeting and messing about that sort of stuff. Says he gets bored and his ears switch off. He was saying how unfair it is thats five days on two days off. We suggested he tried pretending to listen better and maybe taking a day of school next week to go somewhere. He wasnt all that enthusiastic said he wanted a party.. Talked about his pal in Dundee who hopefully is long gone from her sick mum so no way of him seeing her.

Trying to remember anything from all the crap that went down various times we went back over to Grahams if there was anything said that can help us out with now and next but its easier to catch fish with bare hands. The constant awareness that our current mental and emotional ranges and abilities have been forced on us by people who are not ever going to reconsider their attitudes towards total exploitation ever makes us so angry, so disappointed and so frustrated.

It's different. Genuinely so even if far too much is the same. So much more has been exposed to more people. So many are dead. But Dad they use the times when we are isolated and damaged under the 'all of you exist for us and only us' systems to regroup, replace what they lost and to put the finial death nail in the remaining hopes for so many littles. We bargained with ourselves they everyone does with everyone else when a part wanted to maintain an external relationships while others wanted to cut out loses emotionally. We worked so hard when we were so small and did so well and needed to feel there was some home and some end no matter how impossible.

As the 'if worst comes to worst' trigger dates are passing, some years ago of course some more recent, some now, tomorrow, next week, next month. We can feel them. Eyes always peeking out windows, their ears primed for a call, their words so close to our lips but they are turning away, burying deep taking their openness, their easy open love and their broken fucking hearts with them. Leaves room for the ones that can get us permanently non uk residents. They are so good for junior when they are happy for all us and some of the rest of us feel the ongoing betrayal of those clever dedicated loyal littles is far too easily accepted as just the way things are what can you do.

All the shut doors may just be leading us to something better


Everytime we open the new post box parts slide, skulk, bolt, disappear down fox holes, behind walls I cant see the top off, atomise themselves away or casually wonder off while whistling through their teeth.  They don't want to open up and share here in the dark with no idea who is watching and who isnt. Littles know they are conditioned to 'write home' and have no inclination to keep pretending they don't know what that's all about. Usually the only people and places that felt like a real home were the last places and people we would be writing anything to. Killing them ourself would often be better option in terms of trauma and loss at least then they wouldn't be tortured, programmed, enslaved, bred, experimented on and used as against us.

We wish we could manage our time better. Encourage parts to articulate their needs and working with each other. Organising a schedule that could be done day after was never going to work, way to triggering of what the abuser networks do when they have you full time and because there is too many of us. Some of us really liked week/month cycles though. Trying to work out everything we wanted, what was possible and what was needed. Everything stopped being such hard work to being rewarding and fun. When we felt bad someone would try and help us and if they couldn't they would help us find someone who could. Just seeing people try sometimes was enough to make us feel so much better.

We could see some of the people who were working with us were shocked sometimes at how it well it worked to the point of suspecting we were much more dissociated than we were, that we were pretending because we thought we were supposed to.  When we explained how different it felt to be with people who tried to keep us safe and allowed us to be whatever we were most understood. It was worst  for those who knew that the abuse networks designed the parts that need to be cared for the most if we can ever be safe and that meant they would loose me again.

If there was enough time spent acknowledging and treating us somewhere with less triggers and bad memories so we could begin to reach our Gollums ourselfs  The communication and the caring for each other would get internalised just as the indifference and oppression is in horrible environments. Being physically stronger and full of evidence to show people do want something better enabled us to find out those most in need. We knew the punishments we would get for healing and attempting to explore peoples potentials but often many of those whose job is was to help us would have no idea about the risks. We do underestimate people occasionally but no bloody wonder.

Those abuser proof firewalls took a lot of damage and the bastards have definitely had us pretending to do shit but the worst of the work demanded had already been done by others before me.  Pretending was all some of them were after of course they already had what they wanted from torturing and experimenting on mother and others for years. We dont know how far they got through and are unlikely to have been able to find out since because of the system and networks making it impossible to have privacy or be safe enough to check. There's always that consensual need for us to 'not know' some pretty major stuff for various reasons. Every tiny aspect of everything about our behave always has to be constantly gauged, the value of remembering versus the risk a part who who can not bare that kinds of constant danger, our skills in pretending to be a part we weren't (or didn't even have) to someone who may or may not already know versus seconds of being true to my our soul, our nature.

The decades of violence and theft, the forcing pictures into our own and others mind, the forcing us to tell and live so many lies couldnt kill our romantic hopes for love, community and justice with those we fought with here but not one of those ideals is gonna survive the isolation when the main force maintaining it is ignorance, fear and inertia.. and a population with a taste for social rigidity and torture..

Firenze. Natale


September 24, 2015

our room is nice but the kitchen is still wrong even when we clean it

We hope to celebrate September better in other years. It not over this year yet and we are eating and washing, cleaning, spending more time engaging junior and the xbox. The tearfulness at the thought of another day or night here isnt as bad. More of a sense of our history being here with us is probably the main reason.  The main 'must be real memories' and the narratives that they hold together haven't been forced on us for a while so we can feel again and the real narratives are beyond the high walls of what many people think is possible.

If we had been passport applications in the local post office we would have one now. Printers, ink etc feels just beyond us still. Its frustrating but when we start examining the issues raised, triggers its a hell of a shit storm. The thought of an outside of the uk Christmas: the shiny swinging pendulum that is as soon as summer's over, brought smiles to parts that have been down for a while. They know we achieve nothing when so separate from each other and we can't come back without real hope, real hope which is very hard to impossible to grasp when we are distanced from each other and anyone else. No horrific shit in months now. Wow.

We are not due for any back dated DLA or ESA we know fine if we found anything at all no matter how little in the four figures in the current account we wouldn't be buying paint and furniture. But there isnt so we will spend who we get on living a day to day level of comfort we haven't known in the UK before. It's great past so many 'cant's and 'I'm not allowed that's but there are so many still in play but we are getting to a point where we can remind ourselfs that it will get better without being a slap on a broken limb.


September 17, 2015

September 2015 ..

Third full week of schools being back? Fourth? Long enough that the mornings have started hurting again. Still on 100% attendance so far and we know we need to push as hard as we can with getting him out there and ourself whenever possible. A short walk in the morning that cant be bad for our health except for the times when being around lots of people and kids is unbearable of course. There was so much impending doom at the thought of routine and crowds and expectations at the end of the holidays when the mornings were ok it was a needed relief.

The thought of there really being nothing else going on for us than his schooling generously provided by the British stretching into infinity ahead of us is physically a difficult thing to tolerate. He's quite happy to go with his blanket amnesia about who he and his mum is and how hard the fight for us both to still be alive has been. It will all be there. Everything.  Glad that he is socialising and learning we just wish we were socialising and learning to.. and didn't feel so dislocated from his educated and unsure about some of the staff/population..

At least the fucked roof in his classroom has meant a reprieve from the 'come in and see what the kids are doing' mornings.. (kids seem fine I think can't tell when all our internals are hyperventilating and/or clinging to ceiling). ... 

They've been doing a project on Fair Trade.. (No fucking comment)

Good to see Corbyn's numbers.. (would of been better if that was 10 or 20 years ago)

Was quite undepressed on Tuesday. Didnt go as far as the council offices that would likely of challenged the decent mood anyway but got bus to shops bought wee man a book from Works and walked home via the hippo of course. Was all up for Glasgow on Saturday to. Take the wee man, we haven't gone anywhere together in ages. There isnt any way around what public transport and waiting for public transport does to us though. We are too open. Its very difficult managing whatever is triggered in my head and a child in the house never mind crowds.. busy traffic.. (how its impossible to not think about what might of been)

The house is cleaner than its ever been, a workman has been round to sort the worst of the damage from the leaks, the boiler has been fixed and the bully of a landlord used a professional and friendly third party for the inspection. Would of meant a lot more if all that had happened a year ago. We have no will to decorate. We do have will to get wee man's passport updated. Even if it revolts us. Coz we dont have an identity in the UK we have a lifetime of having our human rights denied and no legal means to challenge any of it.

Don't ask us. 'What's next?'

All you will get is vacant eyes and song lyrics.

September 12, 2015

"but none of it is real"

Attempting to communicate internally or externally just adds to the force keeping us scared and confused but the sense of a future elsewhere at times feels like its getting closer. The heartlessness over here is what makes it realer but so many are so heartbroken that things never changed that love in the present couldnt smash up all the hold the rings have over us.

We try and knock down walls just to open our eyes and find we are building them higher. Its programming we know from the worst years put there to make sure we didnt get the help we needed to get us safe after Louise was gone so we could actually live instead of being triggered all the time cant really process any of it effectively when so many of the conditions that made all that torture, slavery and captivity possible are still ongoing.

Any effort justs pulls us into thinking feeling repeating everything that is apart from what we are even feeling the possibility of a step away from the worst would take me further from everything meish further into a place where there would never be any safety. They wouldnt let any of us talk to each other or anyone outside. Whenever we tried they were all over it. We are programmed to believe that when we are in the UK that is the way it will always be and nothing has happened to undermine it. There is no escape from what they found out and what they forced us to do through torture. No escape from people building a life and their children's future on that torture continuing. No escape from this false identity and all the corruption that will force us to live it regardless of evidence that contradicts it and regardless of anyone else being in the room. Keeping our limbs twisted.

We need to be grounded if we are to have any chance of spotting any way back to strong. We need some basic truths or resistance is wasted effort, another part down another exit light turned of. It was a long time sometimes between these moments. All the truths, the physical damage and pain when we tried to feel our own flesh where to horrible to stay conscious of when so weak and so closely watched so regularly punished and so fully exploited. 

Interpreting the promises from ppl who spoke different accents who seemed to have treated us so differently as anything other than grooming or ignorance was impossible without the physical strength to try and the heart to believe without or without the memories to back it up our systems are non existent. They knew that. It's not hidden. We could not realise how much effort people make on every level to not see the freight train ahead and the tracks at their feat.  If they can't see or hear a fucking freight train then how the hell are the going to see us in any configuration? 

There would so often just not be to much distance between the places and people that where around us when we felt good and what we had in the present. Everytime we went through our processes to get to a point where we had a chance of defending ourself we knew they would be watching and studying it in comfort. 

So hard to describe they various forms of captivity and control. Lots of investors in various aspects for assorted nefarious motives. 

We don't have much of a time line.  It's impossible when it's been so long since we felt safe enough to really be present. Throwing ourself into missions was the only real escape and we would wipe any sense of them rather than risk them.

Unless soldiers & comrades starting giving me no option that is.


We smell and reach for the warmth from streets that are made so distant by the violence of our trafficked and trained for it UK lifes that the are more unreal than dreams.

We wouldn't leave us like this but we are here and that usually means we have been forced.

When we are forced to go back somewhere and don't know if we will get out again we have to just bury everything .

Maybe we will end up having to make a new part. Which is scary coz it will be a part made without Louise's love and in total isolation from anything real and positive. That wouldnt be a part. It would be a program. Triggered by things staying the same.

Someone of us have been day dreaming about going to Glasgow next weekend but there is no we are just turning up with or without wee man and just hoping we will be safe and feel ok. It hasnt worked out well for us in the past.

And all that was said and done 15 years ago? Its enough to get us through the next week.

September 06, 2015

Are we there yet?

There it is .. The pink bathroom with all the butterflies and flowers and the metal wall art.

Got it last week from Pound Stretchers or one of them type places. N took as there and refused to let us pay for our shopping.

It's significance .. I'm not sure but think it might have some .. we remember sitting on the edge of the bed back in a Fintry with someone we don't particularly want to name showing them how programmed and determined our future was. We asked them to choose which they thought we would prefer, the one saying 'Home' or the one saying 'Love' an obvious choice for anyone who knows anything really about us and our history..

Whatever us ( if it was us at all) said that was it. She was done, no more programming. What the fuck that means now I don't fucking know. Do we believe that we are not going to find ourselves seeing and hearing things and not remembering when they were arranged? Highly unlikely but 'stranger things have happened' is often our only source of reality based hope.. 

The end of a particular program maybe or the end of a program that has been controlling one of our programmer parts.. Maybe it's a trigger for someone else.. If it is a bad trigger for someone else and they see this post and some nasty shit happens we are very sorry it's not our fault nasty shit happens whether or not we have nice things..

Maybe it's meaningless. Just something to keep us in the past. 

Or the start of things getting worse again.

Maybe it's a good trigger and does signal the start of all this sick assed ridiculousness ending and getting out of the isolation and access to hugs from someone who can see us, who doesn't bullshit us, isn't an abusers' tool and who isn't a dependant..

Asked him today if he remembered anything bad happening in Fintry. He's completly blank on the worst of it. We try not to worry about what cunts have put in his head it's not like they had access to him whenever they tried like they do with some kids. The more we fought though, the more we talked and tried to get help, the more love we showed to any bairn the more determined they were to get him.

He's seems mostly ok. Happy boy. Needs exercise though which we can't really help him with much what with the difficulties in going places. Bloody huge not obese yet thou but the summer holidays were utterly miserable he ate a lot junk food and didn't go out much.. Would love to be able to take him swimming regularly. Would love him to see his mummy happy and active to.

Btw .. What with his big wide feat and all the first gym type shoes we could find to fit him are size 5. Size 5. The same as us. He is eight.. 


September 01, 2015

Sent an email to ask about advocacy today. Not easy. Need help. 

We may of made some kind of forced to attemp last year but we where so splintered & petrified. The "landlord" and his assistant turned up at the door again. Still telling me to tidy up when I can't etc .. 

Boiler has been fixed though! Showers are now possible without standing shivering as the water loses temp then heats up again. 

Place is a bit better today because N was done and did some work, built the TV unit and put up the curtain rail that have been in boxes for months. 

It will never feel safe just us and wee man here with all these triggers but there are maybe signs that some of us are starting to feel a bit better.  At least the year is over. A long way from being able to spend that much time engaged in something other than trying not to drown but we have been spending  slightly less time under duvet.  Wee man will slowly get one parent back and that is something here and now. 

Obviously though any extra major horribleness has to be avoided and we only have limited (at best) influence over that. 

Been colouring again. Got fabulous pens. And metal wall art that matches all the other flowers and stuff in there. It says 'Love'. It's not on wall yet.