April 16, 2016

Fools

Princess puss wakes us purring as loud as he can, clawing at the flannel sheet like we fear he will shred it and trying to roll us out of bed with his head butts. We shout threw Pabs and tell him to throw him outside and hope at some point later that he doesn't interpret us to literally.

Doesn't look like much will get done today. We are back to bare essentials when possible and that is enough to make us weep. The gabapentin doesn't get us moving like it did in the beginning it just makes us happier to be immobile. It is just going to get sore whenever we do anything anyway and we have no tolerance for it at the moment.

Although the contents of our head is opening in ways we fought so hard for its still for it all not to feel irrelevant. That's the abusers talking, the PTSD, the depression and isn't necessarily a reflection of reality. Miss Adam. Lots. And the rest. Where there is skin tonne differences it distance from them feels worse which makes us need them more. When there isn't its my exclusion from all human society that seems to be highlighted.

Our parenting of Pabs is not something we have fought for. They have successfully put us on mute around Pabs as well as they cut of his memory and identify as being connected to something far from what we get here. He's loved and we do our best to at least appear interested and engage in game related stuff in usually talks lots about but its dissociates us in ways we know is very related in the rings and what they have done to us and Pablo and how well they cut us off from everything that is safer.

We were wondering if they little bunker we has out in the Glens somewhere still exists or if it was filled in. Trying to figure out how the hell we ate then we remember the phrase "I never thought I could get sick of microwave food" and that helped.  Our mother was there or a mother? We heard her voice and thought it must of been in our hear. They only way we could get up and open the door was to tell ourself this was a dream because it didn't feel like a trap. So often we had wished it so hard we couldn't believe it was real. But we ended up being so happy that its impossible to feel, or see most of it. We remember crying on her lap and saying how angry we were at ourself at missing a boy when he was there we spent most of the time crying and missing our mum. We also remember something about her saying she was to old for braids and me thinking that was ridiculous.

We don't know if they are the pretend mums though. The ones they put in to abuse us and/or stop us from searching for where ever they were holding and torturing here. Wasn't always Chicago.

We will keep digging, keep dragging up the crimes against us searching for the times and the people that caused the worst splits and do what we can to stop them breaking other people and to take away the fear we have of them and their systems. They have given me no other choice by not letting us be anything else. Cut of from family and friends we are military. There's nothing else driving us.

Fools.

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