..dear reader..

It doesn't feel necessary or helpful to do this anymore. English and our little flat are the same thing. Ridiculously hard fought for but very far short of what we need. This is the best it can give me now. It was always the language of slavers but that meant it was the language of resistance as well. Now its just the language of  institutions and disconnection. Bought a kids introduction to Spanish. It did make us want to get out a notebook and pen start copying stuff answering questions. It will also make Us want to speak and thats a lot of feelings that have to be managed or at least not self destructively plunged head first into when our hands are still tied. That plane. Those words. Out loud words and not just at my end in Torry, recently escaped and needing to convince everyone everywhere I wasn't actually there whilst it was made more and more necessary that I proved I was. It was a conversation that was not entirely annihilated afterwards and has kept us wrapped up and

 It’s late but it’s been messing with us for days. Uterine punches that scream ‘here I am’ then nothing. Think we are in less pain all the time because we have been walking more and of course if we can walk more we hurt less.. Generally avoid peak times over the weekends and reminded ourselves of why that is today. Is it us are there solid external reasons why find it is even harder to convince ourselves that people are just people on the weekends. Triggered and paranoid or triggered into not bullshitting? Dunno. Dont like it at all either way. Chatting at any time is excruciating and its leaves a lot of mental mess afterwards. We keep trying to imagine how that could be easier and maybe one day we could even form a friendship but never come up with anything. My God the mirtazapine though. Doc didn’t argue about ending it.  We currently not on any antidepressants. Early days so we are shouting about. Weird shit that feels physical and outside of normal weird shit that happens when fall

 Thursday rotten though. Dreams, knee, mood, shivers, cist, thought I was coming down with something by the end of the day just aching all over but this morning wasnt so bad. Last night/this morning though yikes. Mini shocks when falling asleep. The doc said the mirtazine has a less sedative effect on higher doses but they dont know why. Never instils confidence that. If it wasnt our premenstal week we might of had the sense to not raise the dose quite as quickly as we were told to but it is so we didnt. Where the dream ended and physical began we dont know. Some of the heart stuff was very real we are confident of that but all the bed stuff is as it was and there isnt any puke patches so the seizure and the bile was dream warning. We couldn’t speak or move properly but could when we woke up enough. He had mentioned seritonin syndrome and warned about it when we said we had taken the sertaline as well one day when we were just so low. How the fuck can we be in danger of serotonin syndr

 We can not We will not leave ourself without the essential plant for so long ever ever again. A Doc asked for blood to make sure the torture arthritis is not something else. Gave it to a nurse who was concerned about our blood pressure she has us monitoring it at home. It is a relief to meet someone who cares about our blood pressure. It doesn’t seem to be as high as it was but our pulse isnt as low as it was with her.  Changed antidepressants or rather taking two antidepressants because we do get a little instant relief from the sertaline and need that. The new one is making us sleep more. Wish we could remember our rap musical from the other night. Not so much the plot though, less white sisters and their people involvement in our abuse. A room with instruments in a dealers house where some of it happened. Some crazy vivid effects that where pretty cool at times. The theme repeated often enough that its remembered even turned up in dreams since as we are trying the remember the word

 Nothing heavy off course. Just lots of beer. Think we have remembered what it was we sang once everyone had been scared and forced off and we woke up deranged, little and alone after Mason was shot in the head outside the flat in Torry. Bits of the chorus from 'I've got a dream' from Tangled. Bit like the short alky ruffian cherub does when he staggers out the bar.  In Tuscany 2017 we heard a Hamilton song. Lin Manual a slaver? Nah. Surely. Nothing has ever been that fucking simple though and is they can't keep us dissociated and split with no fucking recall I doubt the paid talents are going to fair much better. It's never just a case of fucking mourning people. We have to accept the easing of amnesia regarding some vast institution or wealthy nation state and slavery.  It's been asked, what we believe stands in the way between ourself and a life where are friends arn't slaughter in front of us, Murdoch or Disney. Disney. No doubt but no details either bey

 Are we actually going to manage the sunshine drinking over doing it triggered impulsive mania this year? Definitely managing it better, our baseline depression level is rising and I guess it shouldn't be taken for granted that that would just naturally happen. We can see it becoming more possible for us to start doing more things that will help to keep improving it and that is a nice feeling. We are just a little bit less desperately lost and confused in our dreams too. Getting back to a place where we still find ourselves somewhere without knowing how we get there or where to go next but we starting to retain a better sense of often we have found ourself lost and even some of the lessons from previous times and don't get as sick with anxiety. Lot of dreaming about the cats. We miss them. We are lonely. We feel bad for giving them away and bad for the times we couldn't care for them right. They were also sometimes  a real comfort to us at times when we felt inconsolable an

 We wouldn't go out. Wouldn't answer the door or the phone. Its not sustainable though we are too desperate for family/friends so its a matter of time until one of us folds and answers or opens the door. It was fascinating watching the progression of people trying to talk to us. The absolute worst tried first and we would learn a lot about where they figured we were at by their attempts to send someone we might consider talking to. This time was different though we were not trying to find short term safety we knew no one contacting us could make much difference there. We couldn't leave us here now alone like this. I've got you Me. We would repeat it over and over, We still do, to ease the anxiety, to make some dent if possible on the isolation. As a mantra against fatal cynicism.  We haven't read any books for weeks now. Went to far with the contemporary gothic probably trying to pretend we were okay and in a mental and emotional state robust enough for ninteenth ce

 Didn't put this years sticker on the garden waste bin. Got Junior to do it.  Third year, third sticker. Gives us a smile. Third year of a garden reader. More realistic and less manic planning, spending and working. Not looking forward to the extra shinny edge on the loneliness we get when we make something beautiful and there is no one around to share it with. It's not utterly no one we do make such a difference that even he will notice and say something and there is the neighbors who say things sometimes that help us see the difference we have made and work done. Three years is not long enough for us to not feel awkward around neighbors but sometimes we get good at accepting how awkward we feel around people.   Did some nettleing. Weather has been cold but not a cloud in the sky so anywhere sheltered gets warm. Got our proper gloves, spade and it was pleasing work to turn the earth stand on the root mass and lift out gnarly pale balls of roots, notice how we had what we neede

 Over a month in. No fags. Various other sources of nicotine, gum, inhalator, big lozenges that are supposed to be sucked but we keep crunching, patches, wine, junk food. Been a few weeks since we used the patches and the inhalator. Probably around three weeks. Exactly three weeks even. As well as the NRT we have used Grey's Autonomy and Animal Crossing. Seriously crazy hours of both. Ran out of Gray's. Relationship with Animal Crossing is ongoing. Long strange and charming hours in a very safe place. Although some of the accessories in the taylors are a bit ew as well as funny. We knew an earlier version when nothing could be appreciated for long and have considered for months what a new version of Animal Crossing, here and now could mean. We hid the game when it arrived it's not his type of thing and we wanted to start it alone. It doesn't feel too self obessed to acknowledge that the moving on from the fags is a big fucking deal on many fucking levels and that having

 Pain has been reminding me how mental it used to drive us. It has been pretty bad the few weeks, inactivity probably a factor.  Freaking out a little about what we have written because of course all past, present and future misery is my fault for existing, being hurt and not figuring out how to get out and stay out.  If we say/or write something we are giving slavers and abusers ammunition, reprogramming ourself with fiction and keeping people who care about us away but if we don't write we are keeping ourself utterly dissociated and keeping people who care about us away. Currently its a demand we made for proof of life (or death) in the first half of 2021 is the sliver of memory we don't know what to do with. It came with an 'or else' that we were giving to the callers from other parties.  There was maybe words about this being the longest time without contact and that it will end rather than being briefly broken by the contact that often accompanied violence. To talk

 It is the 25th I am just back from the birth/haven't died yet day shop of buying necessary unnecessarys. No pubs, its Chinese New Year so candles, chocolate, beer, bath plug with a floating unicorn attached, ginger biscuits, new notebook that is just for gardening but will end up with the odd weird lines and partial descriptions of severe trauma. Never know if it's real or not when I feel judged for buying pretty unnecessary shit. Like the middle aged women on the counter are thinking and probably saying something how can I afford it, and how unfair that is and making up ways that I could have come about the funds for new pens, little boxes to keep shit in and dinky box of ferrero rocher. Yeah basically I assume everyone everywhere is like the old neighbors. We are on the otherside of the first wave of how we actually feel about living there all that time hitting us. Its a better place to be compared to everything that has come before. I've been trying to take more picture

We dreaded the question, having to watch you try and hold yourself together and figure out how to deal with whatever version of Us had come to you this time.  Other times though we wouldn't care how far or how dangerous it was we had to see you so you could ask if we remembered and we could show you We did. We cut back the back garden and have paid Junior to make a start on the front. Everything got neglected from about August last year so I put down some rose food. A early start to spending happy hours looking at seeds, plants and garden furniture on Amazon, over spending, doodling ideas and day dreaming about keeping up with the work and creating fabulous idyllic results. Amongst this years over spending there is mini sturdy propagators (with mini tools!), decent gardening gloves (they are size small but fit Junior so not too bothered they are a bit baggy on us). Not here get is a mini greenhouse as this year I am actually planning on how having spaces where seedlings can adjust