Hands
They're keeping me awake. Got as much out of the voltarole tube as we can better remember and get more tomorrow. We built the playmobil pyramid its very cool, particulary the skeleton that fits inside the mummy that fits inside the sarcofagus. We said it was like a cool Russia doll. He said they were called Russian nesting dolls so we said if it wasn't Xmas he might of got a mansplaining ear flick for that. It wasn't liked it was the first time in that hour/day that he corrected without any real need. It gets a bit relentless at times. We've said before it can really bring us down. Particulary when we really struggling with mood and pain and really forcing ourself to do essential stuff.
Was hoping to avoid taking more codiene at least until after we have slept but the pain and all the associated memories and misery have made that impossible. Trying not think of the stuff that we never got to do much outside of the trafficking that this pain means we are highly unlikely to be able to do just for ourself, like playing musical instruments. For sure all those studio hours and the disgusting inhumane treatment and violence that came with them is a factor.
It was always as much about keeping is exhausted so we couldn't do much of anything that we wanted to do, couldn't defend ourself from the rapes and the pregnancies, keeping us to traumatised, run down, exhausted and in pain to run as well us making us hate and be triggered by things other people find entertaining or relaxing as it was about the money from the music. Same as with my ancestors and others in similar systems. The using the money made from forcing us to work to keep us in situations where we couldn't escape or grow or be was and is something that makes them very smug. They make you pay for them to keep you a slave.
We would ask then what the point of it all was sometimes when we could. More playing naive than asking a genuine question. The ones that were arranging and protecting those were terrified of us, of our mother of everything we were and everything we could do. Long ago something powerful had said they must enslave, they must commit genocide, they must destroy and strip cultures we can't remember what the threat was but they were long gone and the circles were fought over and controlled by those that knew or suspected forcing the slaves to convince their slavers of some great power that required the slavery.
The slaves were too dissociated and surrounded to understand it was their power or how they could use it to defend themselves. We were told that we would need to explain as much as we could to as many as we could not because we would be able to reach them but so we would understand they were unreachable and the destruction caused by trauma, abuse, enslavement over decades in an individual and over generations and millennia in humans.
We had it all explained to us in great detail, why they made us, why they had to leave us in hell, why the needed us to do what the needed us to do and why we had to survive and how that was only possible by believing they and so much more were out there even when we could see or hear no trace of them. You will be on your own they said and will be made to feel like nothing matters, that you don't matter but you matter more than anything, even more than us.
The "even more than us, much more" shocked us.
Was hoping to avoid taking more codiene at least until after we have slept but the pain and all the associated memories and misery have made that impossible. Trying not think of the stuff that we never got to do much outside of the trafficking that this pain means we are highly unlikely to be able to do just for ourself, like playing musical instruments. For sure all those studio hours and the disgusting inhumane treatment and violence that came with them is a factor.
It was always as much about keeping is exhausted so we couldn't do much of anything that we wanted to do, couldn't defend ourself from the rapes and the pregnancies, keeping us to traumatised, run down, exhausted and in pain to run as well us making us hate and be triggered by things other people find entertaining or relaxing as it was about the money from the music. Same as with my ancestors and others in similar systems. The using the money made from forcing us to work to keep us in situations where we couldn't escape or grow or be was and is something that makes them very smug. They make you pay for them to keep you a slave.
We would ask then what the point of it all was sometimes when we could. More playing naive than asking a genuine question. The ones that were arranging and protecting those were terrified of us, of our mother of everything we were and everything we could do. Long ago something powerful had said they must enslave, they must commit genocide, they must destroy and strip cultures we can't remember what the threat was but they were long gone and the circles were fought over and controlled by those that knew or suspected forcing the slaves to convince their slavers of some great power that required the slavery.
The slaves were too dissociated and surrounded to understand it was their power or how they could use it to defend themselves. We were told that we would need to explain as much as we could to as many as we could not because we would be able to reach them but so we would understand they were unreachable and the destruction caused by trauma, abuse, enslavement over decades in an individual and over generations and millennia in humans.
We had it all explained to us in great detail, why they made us, why they had to leave us in hell, why the needed us to do what the needed us to do and why we had to survive and how that was only possible by believing they and so much more were out there even when we could see or hear no trace of them. You will be on your own they said and will be made to feel like nothing matters, that you don't matter but you matter more than anything, even more than us.
The "even more than us, much more" shocked us.
