August 23, 2016

Monday Morning.

We go back to bed and put some music on and come to write be don't feel like we have much left to say and how can that be true? Someone was wondering about the teddy we lowered down with the bomb what was in it. Like the stuff that makes you itchy all over but isnt the stuff they put in you and something like what we are but much bigger and much worse. Made sense to us last night but in the cold grey light of a school day morning nothing makes any sense and nothing has much meaning. Few good meanings anyway. We remember our eyes kept straying to the other lowering straps. Not as good at ignoring the voices as we used to be because we had forgotten where so many of them had come from. Yeah what are those other lowering straps for? Something that made us feel very sick any way and we weren't sure how stable "stable but try not bash it" meant so we needed to focus on what we were doing.

We were confident that the parts that said that would of handed the job to us if they didn't think we could do it. This was real us and it felt great for a bit as we had no problem getting it to whatever depth we had to despite still wondering if it was possible to not do what we had to do next. We weren't sure what aspects of it were ritual abuse DID and what was real and therefore really necessary. There was no where on this place I needed to scout there was no curiosity of any kind. The place was beyond yucky and the longer you spent there no matter what protection you wore you felt it's sickness crawling on your skin. The statues and freezes were nothing compared to whatever it was that made your skin crawl and your mind get increasingly dark the longer you were there. People asked us what is was but we rarely had anything to say to them about it. It crawled on my skin even talking about it and we didnt have to words to explain it usually either.

We felt quite adult when we talked to her. Easier when she stopped projecting the image of us years younger and just showed the light that she was, that was left. We remembered when we were that little and had to or was forced to believe I was exactly that child and that light there now and how we laughed at the Teddy bobbing about in mid air as we carried him up the hill to the opening where they pumped and threw in everything they stole. So many voices and we heard them but could ignore them all. The ones they we would listen to would not be talking to us or about us, we kept them in mind as living the kind of not extreme all the time loving life we might one day lead. We talked for a few minutes mostly how about they pushed people in those reservoirs when they took the lid off in big ceremonies to show people who their suffering was producing and how we always wondered what happened to them. We were jealous even of them because even when we knew nothing we knew that stuff could not be worse than the people.

When we were brought round after being the girl that carried the teddy we were always had more answers than questions and scared the living shit out of the programmer the first time. She went from but how could you know that no one has ever told you that to no that's impossible to I need help in here very quickly. We always knew we knew more about that stuff than all the miners and engineers and programmers and their shadows and masters put together. It talked to us and it wasn't like talking to people or machines it was completely different.  

Social workers. Had not to resent people who talk constantly about providing support but never actually mention or perform any actual support. We find ourself talking about the Delusional Disorder diagnosis again and trying to say there is no support when that is our label. She looks at us like the guy before did whenever we talked about it. Like their minds have been made up about something and they are not interested in anything we have to say on the matter. Or maybe it's the attitude that is found in both abuser and non abuser support services that it doesnt matter what is done to you or what is said about you you have to perform in certain ways and get on with completing duties as if it never happened. We find attitudes towards us that feel or state that justice and safety is not something we should even bother even thinking about very triggering.. Just because it's true doesnt mean it is acceptable.

We can't see how we will ever be strong enough survive those kinds of interactions without it marking us. We are still heart broken about all his psychiatric assessments. "They made me do it" doesn't mean the same now as it does twenty or even ten years ago. And when he did finally get it we were relieved for a friend it wasn't enough for us to be able to pick up the really heartbroken ones who will be rushing to find out if its him whenever our phone makes a noise or someone is at the door. That or to exhausted from heartbrokenness to move at all because they know it isn't him.

Other people helped back then of course they are a distraction in them selves but also because they bring our parts of us that are feel stronger and happier.

He asked I think its all very hazy, what he could do when he realised we were gone and nothing he had said or done had brought us back. Nothing we could do could bring me back. We told him he would have to be there for us when we got out of hospital, as soon as possible. We told him he would have to be here now because we were alone with a child, our head and flesh with visits from social workers and appointments with CPN, psychiatry and child psychiatry all NHS to travel to and we would really need the support to get through all that for as long as it going to go on for.

I think he said he would try.