How, when we knew everything that has happened was probably all going to happen at best could we ever really hope?
That's the point. The choices are total subjection through violence and physical coercion with zero reproduction control and any rights to own or exist at all or death. So we chose death and found we didn't even have that choice. We were supposed to believe at a very deep level that it was our Dad loving us and needing us to live no matter what that took that choice away but we bought that for long or very deeply.
When people allowed us to feel like we didn't "have" to survive at least up to and beyond this stage because other people needed us to was when we felt it was possible and something we wanted. Breaking that victimised sense that my whole existence is about suffering for other people while we are in Scotland even when with good people was and is so hard. Pretty much impossible without lots of internal organisation or outside triggers or intentional help.
Some of us feel the isolated in a crowd, lost in cities, wandering lonely haunting dreams mean our brain is getting very frustrated with waiting for our mind to get it to together. To have to deal with wall the abuse truths and fictions alone like this. To have to tell ourself this is good and right because me and Pabs and not currently being raped or running for our lives and at least we know where and how he is.
We have been thinking of writing poetry again. With words like languishing, seething and no sanctuary here. There are less hearts in shapes we find our thumb tips tracing.
But we are still spending money on prettying and have started another assault on the kitchen distrustingness, helped yesterday when we used the hose and the and the pressure busted the tap and there was water everywhere including the cat feeding area which is of course is particularly disgusting. The Tuesday cash in early coz of the holiday when we already have a good few days of weed so we again added to the boot on the necks of Amazon employees.
There a couple of very brightly coloured pots coming, compost to stop us from reducing our self to tears by acting on the voices telling us to grab a smaller bag from the local shop, a rattan owl to keep our flying pig planter company and a metal cabinet thing that has yellow flowers on it are all on the way. Along with a book on history of knowledge by a Mr Peter Burke. We can't keep letting anti reading programming, horrible Aberdeen Uni memories and abusers academics keep us from important aspects of ourself..
We keep getting images of Margo describing it and saying she wished she had just got the metal flower cabinet thing for us when she had the money, saying we should get it because it would look great in the kitchen. They have done that massively reduced to a reasonable price thing and it's so pretty.. Next week is rubbish money week we will probably have to ask Niall for help as we do at least every fourth week. It bothers us because when we are honest, we have no idea who he is.
Worried about the moving of things that might happen when it arrives.. Like great there's more light and its warmer,
Yes we know we have a birthday coming up. And it is possibly, probably the birthday. We have a docs appointment on the day. We also noticed our anti anxiety prescription is due, its not impossible we can have a proper conversation about diazepam now that we have stopped being all over the place quite so much when it comes to GPs. We will of course be particularly hyper vigilant about our hyper vigilance.
Too cold for us to be pulled outside today yet. Love the differences we have made. But the pride and the self esteem can trigger the lose. We still think of Jessie a lot. And children's faces are coming into focus. As well as sound of their screams of course. And their laughs.