Ten Years
I wonder where the balance lies between writing ourself into being or having been edited and lied about into something confused, mad and no real threat to anyone with any power. This blog as a means to nail us down or as a means to become present and take control of our life. Either way what it can't do is verify anything, what and who we are isn't something we can prove. Although stories that answer those questions can be openly discussed in front of us with lots of hate and derision as always of course and then denied if we should ever repeat them.
The Daffodil Rites page and the password was set up in 2007 but the posts didn't begin until 2010. We are not able to explain to ourself or articulate here any sense from mess of others demands and intentions of why and how it came about. We could see how it could help us work through some things and that maybe could be used to reduce the phonecalls maybe even the physical visits and definitely could be a way of bringing slaver workers to us by publishing things we were never to discuss publicly if and when we prepared to do what ever we would then have to do to discourage them from returning. We couldn't seriously believe any lines that it would be a way for us to communicate with people who aren't slaver workers partly because we were and are not sure there are any such people and if they did want we would need to communicate with them in a way that could be seen by any one any where.
Not all the littles are fighters, they know how to physicaly defend themselves they can't access all the muscle memories of how to neutralise an attacker, they don't plan defensive moves or travel distances to meet middle management and above on their own turf and often can't remember they are part of a system that can help them. Writing here has helped them understand our DID and know they don't always have to survive the worst alone. This is a real thing and seeing it one of the few things that keep being real and reachable day after day has helped them join the rest of us all stateless and friendless. It's the closet we have to a friend over the past ten years, a friend that doesn't answer, doesn't reach out to us and we have to hide most things from but still better than nothing.
We did wonder it this blog would help us get to a place where know who we are and what has happened to us with clarity and certainty even with the sense that is not something we can do by ourself. When the broken kids repeated the lines about the blog eventually getting us out we knew that was a promise and a threat when the only 'out' those that gave the broken kids those words want it anyone's mind is death. We convince some we have accepted death and others that we wouldn't stop fighting until we there was real justice but all we were actually working for was a little space from the violence and the constant threat of rape.
It's hurting at menstral levels today. It's day 18. Hoping that means a common 23 day cycle or at least the sometimes 26 and not the occasional 31. Maybe we will get a 21. Garden 2 is coming along. We evently sorted out the front bit where someone had put down cheap bin liners as weed lining. There will still be some disintigrating bits of plastic that just rips when you try and pull it out. Glad the three most big intimidating jobs have been done, the root ball about as big as me, the bent an twisted evergreen and the entrace bit. Need to take the spirit level out next time we and the weather are up for it to use the broken pathing to make a level bit to put instant bbqs on and stand on to reach the washine. There is more plug plants on the way. Will be next year before it's fully flowertastic and we start getting really angry and gutted that there isn't anyone we can enjoy it with. There will be plenty nice comments from neighbours though.
