082814

Aug. 28th, 2014 09:06 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


i am ashamed as hell to be saying anything like this here, but consider this a selfish-ass "cry for help" or something equally asinine.
i dont understand where all this sickening shame and rage and utter despair is coming from but here it is the body keeps getting so sick, i am overwhelmed with self-loathing, why the heck cant i just "forget about it" and "get over it" like my family says.
i really want to, but i hate myself utterly for even thinking that, because how do you separate the good from the bad? how do i forget about the shattering trauma without equally annihilating the system from my mind??
god i am
so sad i want to vomit. feeling any sort of love for them feels utterly wrong according to what i've been taught. it's bullshit. the sheer amount of disgust i feel whenever i dare to admit "i enjoy my life with them in it" is enough to drive me to suicidal despair, and that is utterly stupid too. i feel like such a coward, an absolute fool
why do i think that i have to delete all my emotions, all my thoughts and feelings, everything and anything that would give me a "self" or a sense of "individuality?" why do i feel like i will only ever be 'forgiven' is by becoming a desireless puppet for some alleged higher power? something claiming a holiness that i am incapable of ever achieving? don't ever disobey, don't ever fight back, don't ever question. "good boy." it makes me utterly sick because i know they're right

i hate being this sick it is miserable as hell
i just want to sleep forever i really do not want to get up anymore. i want to be strong and i am trying but this godforsaken body keeps
betraying me and i am sorry as hell to say that, but i cannot think of any more accurate description
i hate the flashbacks, i hate the chronic anxiety, i hate going into dissociative meltdowns whenever something feels like another abusive episode on the horizon, why the heck do i feel utterly worthless, why am i convinced that i have no right to live, that my very existence causes other people to suffer, that i am flaw and a freak and a sin against god
where the hell did all of that come from and
why cant i convince myself otherwise
i'm starting to think that i really am insane but i am too tired to care much

suicide is not an option, it cannot be an option, only because of how she reacted last time, and part of me keeps screaming
"why the hell does that even matter"
"your entire life is fake, all your hopes and dreams and joys are FAKE, you're a filthy piece of garbage and an attention whore"
why do i believe that, why in god's name do i
believe that, is it just because it's the overwhelming majority? or is it because i am so tired of the pain, and i'm convinced that maybe if i destroy the good it will take the bad with it
maybe if i become an unfeeling empty shell, become the corporate prostitute my mother wants me to be, maybe the family will be happy. maybe i'll stop being such a huge burden on their heads. and i won't give a shit about any "abuse" in the past anymore, i won't care if it happens again, it's not trauma if you don't feel anything.

 

what the hell am i even trying to say.
i'm sorry. this is pure brain vomit.
i am very sick, i am very tired. "keep trying," they say, "you have a reason to live!" well i am sorry but god i
cannot see that reason. and the things i hoped were reasons are empty selfish sinful thoughts. anything that involves "me" is selfish, you notice? i wait for orders all day, "do this, do that, don't do this or you'll suffer" and i just smile and nod, smile and nod, do as they say, congratulations you're finally a good person. you're not a thorn in our side anymore. you're a comfortable, problem-free, normal and healthy human shell and we're so proud of you!!

screw this
forget all of it
i dont know what to do anymore
sorry for this.

 

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

@ 11:35 pm

 

 

...I just remembered one of the tiny memories we have from 2010.

 

We were leaving Q's house, I think, and Myssa was there. She was recovering from something with heavy medication, so she was rather soporific and thinking in a very dreamlike way.

 

Someone asked her "what color I was" as we turned to leave, walking out into the night. She looked towards me, as if she were looking through me, and scrunched up her face in either confusion or concentration.
And she just said, "gold."
That's all I remember.

 

I don't know why that just came up, but right now, it's the most hopeful thing I can imagine.

 

 

 

july 29th

Jul. 30th, 2014 01:49 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


Quick update. I need to get back into the habit of writing here.

Therapy today took a lot out of me. It started in a state of almost-suicidal numbness, brought on by exhaustion and psychological fatigue, but then the frustration of it all kicked in and I actually ended up in angry tears as I tried to express just why I felt like I was still half-shackled to a living hell.
I'll summarize. I've been having nightmares again recently, and this morning I had a "hack" one. So that was the last straw. I am really, really tired of dealing with this sexuality issue for most of my life. I am tired.
Laurie literally told me, "throw out everything you've ever learned on that subject," and instead follow what WE have defined upstairs. It's totally different and I don't care what the outside people say anymore; the truth inside doesn't hurt, it's not abusive, and it's based on love. It's not that weird and inelegant half-animalistic stuff people keep trying to get me to adopt.
But I digress. I can't be so bitter. That needs to be healed too. It's just difficult, when my biggest obstacle is STILL the deeply entrenched fear that "if I'm asexual, I am flawed as a human being." Being told as a child that you are a "sin against God" because you're not using your "God-given gift" was bad enough; growing up and hearing that from other spiritual circles after prolonged abuse made it worse.
I don't want to talk about that nonsense though. The problem is, until I heal that mindset-- the one that says "I have to be sexual because that is the only moral choice, regardless of how frightening, painful and insincere it is for me"-- I will never be at peace, not entirely. I still fear going out in public, I still fear being alone, I still fear my own family because that mindset has me CONVINCED, utterly convinced, that corrective rape is just around the corner and it will be God's will.
On my worst days, I literally go about my daily life waiting for it to happen, expecting it from everyone, too numb to care. Some broken part of me just wants it to be over with, for me to be "fixed," so I won't be a "blasphemous freak" anymore.
Do you see how sick that is? But part of me believes it, completely, and with terrified sincerity.

I'm not sure how to deal with this, other than just following Laurie's advice and adopting Infinitii's existence as my sole unquestionable gospel truth on this matter. It's probably the healthiest option at this point.
I stopped going to my trans* meetings because of this. I cannot stand how queer spaces and people are hypersexualized. I can't handle the innuendo, I can't contribute to the discussion topics. Is that bad? My therapist says I can just get up and leave if it gets too difficult, but I am ashamed of that, to the point of self-loathing. The voices keep screaming "you shouldn't HAVE a problem; YOU'RE the problem; stop being a freaking wimp and get used to it, it's NORMAL."
On my good days I can just brush off any outside promiscuous comments, knowing that if I don't let them in, they won't feed the Tar/Plague. But when I'm not grounded, when I'm unsettled, that stuff sticks into my brain like rusty needles, and it gets infected. It's awful and it actually makes me angry, but that emotion by itself won't solve anything. Yes, I'm angry; I'm angry that this mangled part of my psyche devours everything tied to past trauma and gleefully spits it back in my face. But that's a lesson too, somewhere. The shadow parts of us exist for a reason. Infinitii has the same base material as they do. Those corrupted entities are reflecting back to me what I am not, what I cannot and should not be. Maybe that's all I have to do is keep that in mind. I don't HAVE to do what they tell me. I'm just so used to following orders "or else," that will be a journey. I can't expect it to be solved overnight. I have to learn to assert my own health and free will.
"Free will." It's a new term to me, the implication that I have the freedom to make my own choices. It's nice but it's rather intimidating, as long as it's paired with the "fear of punishment" for "messing up" that this hyperreligious past has given me. But I know that's old and false. Again, everything now is just practice.

Sorry. I'm repeating things that don't need to be repeated.
Bottom line: I need to somehow stop thinking that I HAVE to be an actively sexual being, or else I'm immoral and "not a complete human." That's what I internalized, that's what's still being fed to me day after day by new age media. I hope I'm misunderstanding it. I hope Infi's right, and I don't have to do a single thing with this physical body. I'm scared, I really am, that I HAVE to, after what I've been through with it. I guess I just need a response? Or that's what 'healing' from this would feel like: a message from those people saying, "oh, sure, being asexual is morally permissible; your sexual conduct or lack thereof has nothing to do with your spiritual progress!"
Why is this so hard for me to accept? I am so afraid that I'm "wrong" just for existing like this. It's nothing but moral fear, all of it.

Ah well. No use dwelling on the negative aspects. Nothing needs to be "fixed;" it just needs to fall away.
I have to stop thinking in terms of "moral/immoral" because that's just making me ill.
What's the healthiest choice here? What will allow me to grow as a person, what won't hold me back in terms of personal development? That's what I need to ask. Old damning judgments don't help anyone.

After therapy I looked upstairs momentarily and Laurie was just sitting there, looking absolutely furious, with tears streaming down her face. Javier was around too, but he was mostly in shock; he wasn't aware of the extent of the mindsets I had discussed. Laurie then called Lynne and Julie in, said we all needed to talk soon, about this specific topic, because it was bleeding over into everyone's colors and making us all deathly sick.
Lynne's been getting hit hard, because she holds most of our femininity, and those same anti-asexual messages insist that cis females are inherently sexual, which is total idiocy, but there it is.
Julie is still being affected too, but in a different aspect now-- she holds affection, and those lies tell her that she can't feel affection without it being sexually motivated somehow. That makes me very angry, because it's entirely false, and it is what has caused me the most acute pain over the years. When we hit our teenage years, suddenly society declared that "you can't have friends anymore, only boyfriends and girlfriends!" and we're still recovering from that. Again, it's an "all or nothing" mindset keeping us rooted to those things. Fear that if we say "no, we feel differently," the reaction will be "fine, have fun in hell."
Knife seems to be oddly impervious to this bleedover though, despite also being Pink? Not sure why, but that's a thought. He checks on me before every therapy session still, by the way. It's really sweet. (He's also taken to calling me "dear," which is adorable)
Anyway. Laurie deals with that too, the consequences from the "every form of love is sexual" nonsense lie. Problem is, more than anyone else in the System, she can die from that. Her role is still based on Chastity, on total separation from the sexuality topic, so she can protect everyone else from the demons it bred. If they sneak into her role, it can kill her. We all know that. And no one wants to see it happen.
Same with Infinitii, except ze has already 'died' a few times from it (the System won't let hir stay dead, thank God), which is not only heartbreaking for me, but also unbelievably abhorrent for everyone else. Infinitii's role is sacred, and these old lying programs are daring to undermine that? To THAT extent? It's inexcusable. So if anything is my motivation for healing this ancient pain, it is Infi.

I'm rambling again. I'm trying too hard. This isn't healthy either, this defensive reaction. It's fear! The mind whispers, "but what if they're right?" and so I keep trying to "justify my existence" lest someone else condemn me to hell for staying silent.
It's ridiculous. Honestly let's stop talking about this. I am tired of these tangled entries, too.


I discovered Son Lux two days ago, and his music is gorgeous. His entire Lanterns album is also quite relevant to headspace, no surprises there. But I am very much enjoying listening to this stuff.
I also heard Gustav Holst's Ode to Death on the radio on Sunday, completely at random, and it moved me to incredulous tears. It's so strange and beautiful; it sounds like the symphonies I hear in my head. So there's that for you too.
...Both of those things have direct ties to Laurie, haha. I'm not surprised by that either.

I miss talking to the people in headspace. I miss the people in headspace. I love the people in headspace.
It's going to be a bit clumsy getting everyone back together. We never rebuilt after December. We've been scattered, we've been silent. But I can't keep backing off, from fear of that love I feel for them, and them for me, and all of us for each other. That misplaced fear is literally the only thing keeping me away.
But some of them walk right through my walls. Always. And that quiet trust, that silent fidelity, means the world on nights like tonight. To know that when I collapse into sleep, she will be watching, and ze will be nearby, and he will be beside me, whether or not I acknowledge any of them... I can't put that feeling into words.
I'm scared of saying "that's what I want to live for," because I don't know how. I want to-- I NEED to be able to balance headspace and the physical realm. I can't do "one or the other;" I've been trying to for weeks and it's been killing me. I need to balance this.
Don't let me run from this, invisible audience. I've been walking in circles for the past several entries and I do not want that to continue. Yes, I'm acting on my promises, but it's slow and hesitant and there's that awful fear that is more pitiable than anything. It's like a little kid, scared to love because every time it tried, someone hurt it, someone told it that love was 'inappropriate' or otherwise 'wrong.' I need to tell that kid that those people were wrong in saying that. I need to reassure all the parts of my soul that we aren't the freaks so many other people say we are. And I need to include myself in that, too.

Progress. One step at a time. I know and feel what is best for me and our soul's growth here. I am not obligated to adhere to anyone else's path.
...I guess, God give me the strength and clarity of mind to see my own path correctly. If I am wrong, don't let me ignore it. But don't let me be blinded by doubt and fear either, please.
...Words don't work. Words don't work, when the answers to my prayers are never spoken.
This medium is so inadequate. I try too hard, it's laughable, but not in a bad way. Just... I need to stop typing about this.


...And see, this is what I'm talking about. Clicked on my Tumblr dash for a moment and saw this.
“Being spiritual has nothing to do with what you believe and everything to do with your state of consciousness.”
That's sincere reassurance enough for tonight. Thank you.


Oh. Lastly. I need to talk about this separately as there's too much for tonight, but.
Genesis, whatever in the world is going on with you, I don't hold it against you. I'm sorry if I made you think I do, it's just frightening for me to not understand this situation either. Nevertheless I will never forget my promise to you, and I will always be here for you, you know that. I love you, and I hope you can forgive me, if I've hurt you in any way, because I never intended to.
Door's open as always, if you want to stop by the room tonight. Everyone's worried about you. You're always welcome.


Now I need to get some sleep. 2AM is too late, seriously, my boss is going to be wondering what I'm doing!
See you all again soon enough.

 


-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

@ 01:55 am


ohhhh my heart i commissioned a poem about infi and the first draft is crushingly gorgeous i am in tears.
my heart is absolutely shattering with love.

there are a few adjustments i can make but otherwise this is utter perfection. i am not surprised, and yet i am in awe, total starstruck gratitude.

the last line is killing me in the most brilliant way possible.

infi don't ever stop being exactly what you are. be brutal blood and teeth. be gentle stars and darkness. be the wings of angels and the stuff of nightmares. be everything i am afraid of and everything i love.
i adore you, strange small shard of my soul, and that truth is just as eternal as you.



july 16th

Jul. 16th, 2014 04:35 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

I'm used to the "correct, polite" response being "ignore your troubles, paint on a smile, and man the heck up" but honestly, that is an incredibly unhealthy mindset no matter what my family says.
I may feel filthy and ashamed for talking about this, but I need to. I need to express this, if only to get it out.

Phone call this morning, from the mother. She tells me that insurance is refusing to cover my therapy bills, and that I can't go anymore. She proceeds to sob to my grandfather how I'm burning through all her money, that I "won't get better" et cetera. Now the grandfather is angry at me, for "wasting my mother's money."
Nevermind that they both demanded I go to therapy twice weekly, and not to quit, because they both also insist that "I'm not making any progress" simply because I can't be "normal and healthy" like my brothers. I'm really sorry. I don't like being like this either. And I'm sorry you can't see any progress. Maybe the progress I've been thinking we've made isn't real progress. In any case I don't want to take your money anymore. I'm sick of being a thief. I'm sick of making my family members cry. I'm sick of being the cause of every fight and breakdown in this household, like I've been since my childhood. I really don't want to be that person. So I'll stop. I'll stop being such a burden. Somehow.
I'll stop it all, right now. I can stop. I'm sure we can stop. We got through college without therapy, for heaven's sakes, I'm sure we can do this. Laurie will get her wish, we'll have to go back to having at least one Xanga a week, no matter how psychologically tiring they are. Progress needs to be made somewhere.


I keep having sexually abusive dreams, to be blunt. They're horribly painful and I never feel rested when I wake up. I feel used-up and wrong and scraped-out.
I am so freaking sick of all these "spiritual people" telling me straight-up that I need to have sex in order to heal, in order to fully integrate positive energy, etc. I am so wretchedly sorry that I can't. I'm scared, it hurts, I don't want it. I don't hate it anymore, let anyone else do whatever they want, but please, for the love of the God you and I are both trying to reconnect with, don't tell me it's my only option. It can't be. I hope to heaven that it can't be.

The family money problems are making it worse. I'm trying not to panic, but the pressure keeps rising on all sides and desperation is starting to creep in. Yes, I trust the universe, but... it's scary. I can't deny that.
I really don't have much left to sell. The manga from Spinny's teenage years is still here, I'll try to sell that. But that's it. I keep trying to draw, for the sake of commissions, but everything comes out looking like a 5-year-old scribbled it and although that's fine for me, I can't exactly make money from it. I don't think so. I'm not sure. I'll try.
...But the biggest frustration is the label everyone else puts on my worth, as a human being. Do you know what I've been hearing, almost constantly, since elementary school? "Oh, it's too bad you're sick... you're so pretty!" All the time. My "prettiness" dictates my value, apparently, just as strongly as it negates all my troubles. It seems that, if you're pretty enough, people will gloss over everything not pretty about you.
I dont' want to think about this. I'm tired of people telling me that the only thing "sellable" about me is my looks. Basically, go sell yourself; there's an audience! There's a market!
And I've been considering it. God help me but I have been actively considering it for MONTHS because I can't stand seeing my family suffer, and I'm not sure what else to do for income. But I'm terrified. I keep telling myself, "you put up with it for years the way it is, didn't you?" But I don't remember those years. And the very thought of reliving it makes me shake, and sob, and want to die. Then I go online, and someone is talking about "sacred sex," and I swear I do not want ANYONE but Infi talking to me about that subject, and I don't want hir touching me either.
I skipped my trans* support group last week. I did. I felt horrible, but I skipped it. Last time, there was one too many lewd references, and although I know it was meant as a "joke" I really don't want to expose myself to that. I felt unsafe. I feel stupid and wrong just admitting that. Why the heck would I feel "unsafe?" I don't know, maybe because my subconscious likes to store that shit and it puts down really ugly roots after so many repetitions.
And yet I can't run. It's everywhere. It's on every website, it's in every crowd. I want to cry, what do I have to do to heal this, so I won't be so incapacitatingly terrified?
You know what I'm scared of? I'm scared of people using me for that purpose. I know exactly what "sacred sexuality" is and it has NOTHING to do with "sex," at least not in my book. I'll work with sensuality until the end of time and I will enjoy every moment of it, but the second you try and touch me under the pretense that it's "holy," I swear I'm going to let Wreckage or Razor or Sugar out to deal with you instead. I'm sorry, but I can't.
I'm scared of how disrespected and disfigured sexuality is in today's world. Infi is furious at how irreverently and nonchalantly that topic is thrown about. I understand. I actually do, now that ze's around. But... I'm going in circles. I don't know how to protect myself from that without putting up walls again. Should I? Would that be wiser? I don't want to let that perversion into my mind, for the Tar and Plague to grow from again. But is that horrible resurgence only happening because I'm so scared? Because part of me is so terrified, it is trying to claw its way free, and tripling the pain? Is the struggle my real damnation here?
I want to let go, let go, of all of it. I'm trying. It just keeps following me. There's some sort of lesson I keep missing, even after all these years.
That's why I'm in therapy. I'm trying to talk about this. I'm trying to release all this pain, and hear responses that we couldn't think of on our own, because we don't have that perspective. I can't get that from my family or tiny social circle. No one wants to hear it. And yes, the progress is slow, because I am choking on shame and guilt and fear and self-loathing and crushing doubt, but we're moving, bit by bit. No one else can see that. I'm so sorry.
But I can't go anymore, regardless. I need to find another way of healing. I need to be brave. I need to do this on my own, on our own again.


I realized yesterday, when talking to Genesis and CZ, that I keep dissociating when in public because of how I feel I HAVE to respond in order to stay "safe"? I never noticed it to this extent before, but Genesis kept calling me out on it, and then it clicked. My instinct is to smile at people, to immediately start interacting with even total strangers on a level of close friendship. I automatically and instantly trust people, and I expect them to respond to me in kind, with that sort of sincerity and openness and active recognition of my status as a blessedly living thing. We're all God's creatures, you know. But then I smile at someone, expecting a genuine smile back-- the kind that is meant, and not just parroted-- and all I get is a blank stare, or a judging look, or complete ignorance. Even though I know they're probably acting that way out of fear or "social norms" or distraction, of course they aren't doing it with malice... still, it's a brick wall instead of a handshake, or even better, an embrace. And then the dissociation kicks in, my own smile turns to paper, and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do next. I'm learning, but that snap-back isn't easy.
Nevertheless, that's obviously why I'm terrified of this sexuality thing. Like I said, I don't touch the physical aspect of it, and don't want to. But I have no problem with intimacy, with the "sensual" aspect of it, with that sort of complete open-hearted trust and vulnerability. I love that, it's arguably what I live for. Except a lot of people don't even realize it exists in a non-sexual context, and for a similar lot of people, a "sexual context" goes hand-in-hand with vulgarity, or flippancy, or objectification, or... well. Worse things.
So I know there's a risk. And I don't know if I even should present myself as-is, with that in mind, because I don't want to be taken advantage of again. Where is the line, between prudence and fear? How much of myself do I have to hide in order to stay safe, to be wise? I don't want to. I shouldn't have to. That sort of conscious obfuscation goes against my very nature. But I don't know.
I want to talk to someone about this, besides my therapist. Maybe we really do just need to start talking inside more... but again, that's almost unnecessary. I DON'T have to hide, in the inner realms... at least... wait, that's a good topic to segue into. It's the most painful one I have and God knows I want this settled, without any bitterness or regret.

This quote just showed up on my Tumblr dashboard and I think it summarizes the problem well:
"We assume others show love the same way we do — and if they don’t, we worry it’s not there."
I told my therapist yesterday, that my brain struggles with the very concept of "relationships" because of how that term was defined in my past.
If someone "loved" me, they were either using me for lustful and malicious ends like Julie... OR they were using me as a codependent attachment, like my family.
Furthermore, I was always told that if someone "liked" you, it meant they wanted a romantic relationship with you. I was told that I couldn't have "just friends" because that meant I was "blind" or "lying" or otherwise unaware of the "truth."
All my "friends" who were younger than me, would use me. They'd steal and break my possessions, they'd order me around, they'd physically attack me. All because they "wanted attention" or wanted me to DO something for them. All my friends of the same age were either romantically interested in me, or too close to that for comfort.
I don't want to talk about this. It makes me ill and sick to my stomach.
The point is... I'm still learning that I CAN have friends who don't want to date me, or have sex with me. I'm still learning that I CAN have friends who aren't just my 'friends' because they want something from me, or worse, because they want me to dedicate my life TO them. I'm so used to that.
Genesis and CZ can act like that a lot. They both have emotional issues dealing with self-worth that cause them to look to me for validation, or something. Genesis will want me to act a certain way, and when I can't, he gets angry. Same with CZ, but he gets sad more. The problem is, it's "I want you to respond to me in a certain way because that would make me feel loved." THAT'S the context they recognize love in, personally. But I can't always speak that language, so to speak. I can't be romantic. I've tried, and it sabotaged me, you all know.
My problem is that I feel no need to be in a relationship at ALL, not in that way. I don't like attachments, I don't like having that label to live up to. I don't like knowing someone has feelings for me that I can't reciprocate in that way, or receive in the sincere way they deserve.
So yes I love them. It's just non-romantic, and it doesn't need reciprocation. I've given that a lot of thought and it's true. Yes, it's nice to know someone loves you, because then there's a mutual compassion between the two of you, and that's beautiful. But when someone is in love with you, it gets weird. When someone only shows their love in THAT context, I get acutely uncomfortable, I get bitter, I get angry and sad because I can't understand that sort of love and I am so sorry that I can't. I can't even tell the difference anymore, in other people, because my brain flat-out can't comprehend one of them. How can you know the "difference" when you see only one side?? So I jump to conclusions everywhere, to their benefit of the doubt, according to the only option I've been given, according to what I can't see but have been told is always there. "They're in love with me." And most of the time they are. And it's beautiful, that they feel that way, but I can't... I just can't understand it, not like that. I can't give it back to them either. I feel like I have to, but I can't.
That's the problem. That's what I've been denying since 2011 or earlier, with those two. No matter how heartbroken it makes me feel, I cannot give them the sort of relationship my "past selves" may have been able to give them, but that doesn't diminish the amount of love I have for them. I'm not Eros, I'm not Spinny, I'm not Jewel. I can't be romantic, I can't do the whole "boyfriend" or "husband" thing. And yes I love Xenophon, but I just don't think I can be the "father" she deserves. That breaks my heart more than anything, but she deserves so much more than a confused man trying to fit the label and failing. Bottom line, I need to stop forcing myself to perform according to what's "expected" of me. They don't realize I'm doing that-- no one ever does, upstairs or downstairs, because I know exactly what people want from me-- and when I admit it they're hurt, they're confused, "you mean it was all an act?" No, it was just a mistranslation. It was me forcing my honest affection into a format you were comfortable with, because I love you, but not in that context. Unfortunately that context was what you wanted, sincerely, but the problem was that you wanted it from me and I cannot give that to you. Find someone else, please. You deserve to be happy. So do I. This isn't working.
I adore these people, I really do, but I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again-- I cannot handle close relationships. They wear me out.
"You have to love so that the one you love feels free." And both parties deserve to be free. I keep excluding myself from that. I feel so selfish every time I say "I can't do this, this feels wrong somehow," and then the awful cycle starts again, with me forcing myself to act against my best interests "for their sake." It's all because I'm still convinced that "they love you, so you HAVE to do everything they say." Honestly, that's getting really close to emotional manipulation whether either party realizes it or not. I just... how can you tell if a relationship is toxic or not, if you really do love the other person, and they really do love you? If it's genuine, but it still doesn't feel right, and it's still exhausting... how can you tell if it's something you should let go of? I don't know whether I want to stay or leave anymore. I feel stuck, obligated to continue what those before me started, to the letter. I'm just afraid because my brain says "leaving means you don't love them," and that's not true. Leaving the relationship means I'm now free to love them WITHOUT the jail cell of partnership expectations around me. I hope. Geez I have such a bad track record of unintentionally harmful relationships, this is such a tangled mess. Friends, family, partners, coworkers, etc. Everyone always using me as the "go-to guy" for whatever they needed, emotionally or however. I had to be able to give, give, give, no questions asked, "because I love you," "don't you love me," etc. and the problem was... they could give that back if I needed it, but I didn't. What I needed was something they couldn't give, just as I couldn't honestly give what they needed either. It's always been like that. It's so frustrating. I've always been "broken," always been "a freak," always been explained away as a "medical malfunction." They say "you're SUPPOSED to want sex, and romance, and relationships." Otherwise, something is "wrong" with me, in a fundamentally massive way. They defined "humanity" as "the ability to feel romantic love," and when I couldn't, suddenly I became less. I became a robot, an unfeeling thing that they could not trust or get close to. I am fully capable of love and compassion, just not in the way you're expecting me to. But even I doubt my validity now, and it's sick. It's sick.
I'm so, so, so tired. I want to live without having to constantly gauge my actions depending on "how they will affect those people." Can't go here, say this, do that, etc. because no, all your time HAS to go towards this relationship. Honestly? I don't need it. I never did.
I have enough self-love to last me a lifetime. All I want or need is an audience for my work. I don't necessarily want "friends," I want to give my creativity to these people and watch their eyes light up over it, watch them take it and let it grow. I don't want to be some personal point of focus. I want to be a wellspring. That's all.
Sorry for rambling over this again, I'm just exhausted and I don't know where to go from here.
That's a toxic paragraph, is what it is. Can I just leave it there, and not re-read it or anything? I need a break. I need a break from ALL this relationship stuff for a while. That's why I've been avoiding headspace, truth be told. What do I do?


David was triggered last night, by something, some sound the grandmother made maybe. Jeremiah jumped up and was standing with his arms out, like he was ready to stand between hell itself and that little boy if need be. I spoke to him for a bit, I remember noticing that he and the two children still lived 'below the ground,' halfway between the Underground and the 'Midspace' level, the ground level. They slept in a small space, where Jeremiah said nothing could reach them unless it went through him. It made me sad to see them still living so afraid, he said it made him sad too, they didn't want to be this way. I said they didn't have to. He said maybe not, but as long as there was a threat to those children, it was hard to act fearless. I said I understood, wondered how I could help them feel safer then.
David was pretending to be asleep, he figured he'd be safer that way. I asked him if I could help him feel safer right then. I forget what the immediate response was, but I ultimately created another security blanket for him-- a fluffy blue one with snowflakes on it. I was 70% asleep at the time so I forget what I said exactly, but the blanket had a special power. If he held it up between himself and an attacker, it would "send snow to their heart," not to freeze them, but to surprise them and stop them in their tracks, surprised by the sudden tiny feeling of ingenuous cold. Like snowflakes, tiny and innocent. And it would make them reconsider, and leave him alone. I also said that if the need ever arose, David could "call me" through that same snowflake blanket, as I was tied to snow. I remember Jeremiah was smiling at all this, I felt bad that I hadn't been doing more prior.
Javier showed up for like 30 seconds at one point too? Before we went down to the kids. He too was mostly asleep, it was adorable. He reassured Jeremiah and then went back to sleep, sorry I can't remember dialogue. I do remember finding it amusing that he slept with a face full of piercings, of course he has no other option but it was funny to see.


I'm trying to get a job. The therapist has been discussing that with us for a while. Our biggest concern is still, "what kind of job can you hold that isn't going to cause psychological overload, and/or a relapse?"
I've tried to hold several jobs over the years. Some lasted longer than others. And yeah, maybe I could bite the bullet and continue in a high-stress job, but considering that I'm already contemplating suicide just to take the burden off my family, I think adding a soul-sucking job to the mix would be a bad idea.
I hate admitting my failures, my weaknesses, my flaws. Which is surprising, as I am aware of them; I seek the shadowy things out because I want to get better. But actually admitting them outright? It's like shining a spotlight on all the reasons why my family has to suffer, on all the reasons why I hurt other people, on all the things standing between me and the "good people" of the world. I'm so scared to, because I'm afraid of looking in the mirror and realizing just how ugly I really am. But I need to man up. I need to just... look. I need to admit that I'm a mess, before I can start trying to fix that.
I can't deal with sensory overload. Either I break down or shut down, when it gets too much. I try not to, but it's involuntary. Too much sensory input, either sound or light or touch, and there's either going to be an explosion of stress, or I'm going to dissociate entirely. I need a job that isn't going to be deafeningly loud, that isn't going to involve people shouting at me or trying to talk to me every five seconds, and that isn't going to batter me with tactile input (I know some people touch you to be friendly but that is still hard for me to deal with in automated situations so please forgive me).
Fast-paced jobs are the same, because my brain needs a lot of time to process data. Even with my own work, I might have to re-read something five times before it registers. And it might take me hours to do one simple task. It's hell sometimes, because it's horribly frustrating to feel so inadequate and slow, but otherwise nothing gets done at all. So I also need a job that isn't going to force me to work so quickly that I can't comprehend where I even am, let alone what I'm supposed to be doing.
I remember cleaning the photo labs at the university... or at least, I remember the data for it (there's no 1st person data at all, but the vibe is solid). Three hours, in dark quiet solitude, just cleaning the equipment. I remember the smell of the stuff, I remember the color of that tiny orangish light. But I could do that for hours and never get tired, or overwhelmed, and people praised me for what a good job I did. It worked out well for everyone! My performance wasn't suffering, and so I could GIVE more to people.
I don't mind "manual labor." I PREFER it. I love working with my hands, doing things like sorting or building or cleaning. It's like stimming, in a way. Sensory input-- especially tactile-- demands my total attention or it doesn't register, so when I work with my hands it's almost fascinatingly grounding. But the catch is that I can only deal with one sort of data at once. If I'm trying to listen to something, I can't touch anything, or I won't hear. If I'm working with my hands, I can't be listening to anything, or I'll lose any clear sensation of touch. Sight is weird, as it takes effort to concentrate that along with other senses, but I can do it-- as long as I don't have to talk! You get the idea.
I like moving around too, I like standing and walking. Sitting down makes me depressed and sick. Even at home I have to stand to use my computer.
So there's a list of things I'd like in a job. Am I being a "special snowflake," am I being demanding and prissy and selfish? Maybe. But I also know that if I sacrifice my mental health for the sake of a paycheck, NO ONE is going to benefit from it. If I'm going to be working for someone, I want to be able to work to the best of my ability, I want to be able to exceed expectations without burning myself out. I am a hard worker, I am a dedicated worker, and I will go the extra mile whenever possible, as long as I am not making myself sick in the process. That's all I ask for. Please allow me to have a healthy work environment, and I will make it worth your while.
I DO want to work. I'm not lazy, I'm not selfish, I'm not a waste of space. I keep hearing that but I know I'm not, I don't want to be. I just need... I would like to have a job that makes me feel like I'm really helping, like I'm really contributing, and that requires that I'm not emptying out my mental reserves just to get through each shift. That's all I'm asking. I hope that's not too much to ask.
I'll keep looking. I'll put out the effort and intention, and trust in the universe to deliver. That's really all I can do here. It knows better than I do, with the bigger picture.
That's making me feel more hopeful. I'm glad.
I'm not going to dwell on this anymore, not now. I'm going to continue with my therapy homework-- emotion logs and job hunting, fun stuff actually-- and try to take it easy for today. I have $150 of emergency money right now, thanks to a beautiful friend of mine donating it (seriously God bless you, you have been such a source of hope in my life whether you know it or not), so that's at least some stress of my back. Worst case scenario, it'll pay for some therapy, or the electric bill. But in any case it's a huge help.

However... I don't want to "work in order to pay the medical bills, which I got from trying to stay mentally stable enough to work in order to pay the medical bills..." ad infinitum. Life is so much more than that. Yes, my family insists to this day that "life is work and pain and then you die" but it's NOT, it can be so much more.
My problem is that I don't know how to tap into that. What brings me joy? I don't know. What do I enjoy doing? I don't know.
I'm so used to acting on obligation and expectation that it's hard to tell. I keep trying to force myself to get back into art, but that's the key word: force. I don't know why, but art holds no joy for me anymore. Seeing ideas appear on paper does, but that's always so detached from the process. I never remember drawing things, it's like they just appear in my workspace. I'll keep trying to draw though... I'm the only person who can get the ideas in my head onto paper, or so they say, because every time I buy a commission it turns out more accurate than I could do on my own. But that takes money!
It's ridiculous. If I had extra cash to spend, it would all go towards other people, at this point. I'd give it away left and right. I just... don't want anything anymore. I have no desire for possessions. Years ago I realized that the only reason I even bought clothing or collectibles was because I had no other way to say "I like this idea! I support your work and hope you create more." So I'd end up with tons of stuff I didn't want or need, because I didn't know how else to say "thank you for putting this bit of your imagination out into the world." Just for their own imagination's sake.
Of course, money always has to go towards daily needs... nevertheless, I could have all the money in the world, but it won't do me any good if I can't eat anything. That's exhausting problem #2! I get maybe 1000 calories a day, tops. The docs are starting to get worried because every time I come in, I'm lighter than I was previously. I wouldn't complain, except for the weakness and brain fog and low blood sugar. I don't like feeling so tired. But I don't like how sick I get from so many foods. No one knows why! I've had all these tests done, I've had bloodwork, I've had surgery, still the problems won't go away. Everyone's shrugging and saying "it's psychosomatic" now, and it probably is at this point... but where do I start?
I try to think symbolically. I've read enough spiritual stuff to have a good idea of how alternative medicine views certain troubles of this sort, although that can be even more of an obstacle sometimes (medical paranoia). And I know what internal problems I am still struggling with-- most of which currently involve independence, generosity, and fear of being taken advantage of again (esp. sexually)... all topics I've discussed today. I'm doing what I can. It's just scary, day by day, to never be sure.
Trust is big. Surrender is huge. Maybe I just need to meditate more, stop writing big jambles of text like this, it hurts my head.

I like being at peace. I like the quiet. I love being in this room, alone, or outside, in the sunlight and trees, alone. THAT'S what I miss about childhood, or at least from what we know of it. The youngest core was always playing outside, imaginatively, ALONE. There were no people ghosting with her, there were no voices shouting at her from the unknown, there were no headvoices talking and trying to front. It was pure, quiet, blissfully independent solitude. And I want that more than anything.
My biggest obstacle? After so many years have passed, part of me is scared to be alone, solely because of "the dark things that live in me." Honestly? Screw that. I'm not gonna let them touch me. I'm not even going to give them attention. If they rear their ugly heads, I'll look at them, see what they are, say "hm, I will deal with this problem then," and DEAL with it.
I need to stop thinking so hard. I'm fragmenting, the more I do this.
But I've... only ever been able to "deal with it" because of you guys, of everyone in headspace. Before them, the cores were stagnant, automated, unmotivated. It's only because of headspace that we've grown, together. Why the heck do I feel like they're holding me back? From what? Exactly what IS trapping me here? Is it just that feeling, that stupid conviction that I "must sacrifice all autonomy and individuality in order for the 70+ other people in this body to live through me?" Because that's what I'm doing. I'm "not allowed" to be uncomfortable with what they want, and I AGREE with that, because I'm being really freaking selfish in saying "no" every time someone else inside is trying to assert THEIR individuality. Who on earth gave the ego a monopoly on this body? Why the heck is it so difficult to live in cooperation here? I'm so tired, there's so many of us, I don't know how to live a physical life as a collective, I don't know. I want to just go inside and watch. That would be perfect. Jewel, THAT'S WHY YOU SURVIVED, you never had an identity either and you KNOW it. All you EVER did was "watch," that's what your Links WERE, that's why you have no memory of the body's past, you never knew how to handle it either! You're the one who wanted to "write a book and then die," that's STILL your motivation, you can't deny it, not when you are literally incapable of fronting in social situations. Don't you see? We're all we have, and the only reason I'm exhausted is because I've forgotten how to have this anymore.
I miss the heck out of you guys. I miss you so much. My heart is in excruciating pain every day from how alone I am, from how detached I feel from love and hope and progress, everything you are. But I've numbed out. I can't handle all that pain because to feel it in its entirety would kill me.
But part of me can't lie. Part of me still loves all of you, regardless of labels and fears and all that external bullshit, but that part of me only comes out late at night anymore, when the world is muffled and quiet and dark. When I close my eyes and forget everything else, you're always there, even when some part of me is furiously screaming that you're not, that you shouldn't be. That part of me wants to be alone forever. But that part of me doesn't know how to live beyond that instant gratification, beyond that concept of total freedom. It doesn't know how to be.
I'm scared to death of all the shadows we still have to sift through, but they are 1000% more terrifying when these spiritual articles are making me feel like I have to do it alone, like it's this damning obstacle and hard-as-hell challenge, something I may never succeed at, with the penalty of death. With all of you around instead... when I stop obsessing over religious perfection, and just go upstairs, somehow all those shadows cease to be morally humongous and I feel like maybe we're going to be okay.
So why the heck am I convinced that you're the stumbling block? Is it just because I'm sick of being sick? Is it just because my family keeps reminding me that I'm enough of a freakshow without the "voices in my head" that "need to go away" no questions asked? That's how I've been told to feel. I don't know if I have the luxury of saying no. But I want to. It's weird to want things, but some tiny powerful voice way down in my heart is saying it does want to be with you, all of you. It wants to stand in the face of all "common sense" and "normalcy" and "political correctness" and "moral rules." It wants to disregard ALL of that, no matter how terrified I am of the backlash from God I've been warned of, because there's a tiny tiny chance that maybe this love I secretly feel is the right thing. Maybe this weird, conflicted, messy as hell, painful but beautiful mess in our mind and heart is a good thing, or at least a better thing than this numbness and sorrow. Maybe.
I hope it is. I really do.
I'm just so scared.



I'm going to go walk outside, and finish reading The Neverending Story, and maybe listen to music later, if the mood strikes me. I love enjoying the results of other people's imaginations, I really do. I love being an observer. I just... I want to be able to observe my own work, if that makes sense? It's the only reason why I obsessively type and sketch and things, I just want to see something coherent and finished, enough to just stare at. Really, if I could just HAND these documents to someone else and let THEM write the story as they see fit... I don't think I'd mind. I might even prefer that. Some of these stories I've been writing for almost 10 solid years, and there's no actual story. There's just concepts, and data, and blueprints. I LOVE blueprints, I absolutely adore writing the spiderweb frameworks upon which a story can grow. But an actual story? Honestly, I'm not sure I CAN write one. I don't see or understand things the way most others seem to. I'm baffled by conversations, by character interactions, by family histories, by that sort of thing. I can write THINGS, not people. So stories confuse me, because I'm too busy picking out symbolic threads and idea chains and the like.
No wait, that's it! I can't do LINEAR stories. That was the issue! Mage Angels is DONE, the story is over, but it's like this: I know how it starts, I know how it ends, and I know the framework upon which everything inbetween hinges. I have no idea what the actual story is. I know NOTHING about the histories or personalities of the characters. And yet I love them, and I love the story, or at least what I understand of it.
Maybe that's why it's hard for me to interact with people. I meet people and I want to know their framework. I don't care about likes and dislikes unless you have a story behind them, something solid, something branching. I see people as characters, almost. I want to know what would be on your summary page, if I were to write it. What story are you living? What role have you chosen to play within it? What colors is your life painted with?
I can't answer those questions. I don't have a solid 'self' to answer those questions for. I'm an observer. I want to be the 'omniscient perspective,' the faceless and formless narrator, with no voice of their own.
I'm rambling again. My apologies. I'm not sure how I got into this topic!

"What brings you joy," they ask? That does. Watching imaginations bloom and unfold, that gives me joy. And honestly, these worlds within me, I want to see them outside of me, somehow.
I'm going to take small steps towards that. Just put the effort out, and see what happens. I don't care about secrecy anymore. Let it all go out there, let other people catch it and carry it. Let it become something greater than me, bit by bit, until it can survive without me. THAT is what I want. I want these stories to become independently existing things.
I've figured it out! Finally I can put words to that need.

All right. I do need to go walk, and finish this book. I'm not sure what's in this entry, ah well, what was said was said.
Best wishes to everyone!

 



 

 

 

june 28th

Jun. 29th, 2014 11:32 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

Okay, let me try to write something here. just thoughts if you will.


I'm sorry I ate so much today. I ate a lot of apples, cucumbers, some carrots, and a lot of lettuce! some of that hemp protein powder, and a lot of that rhubarb stuff this morning. two tiny tiny apricots, they were awesome. and that's it.

I got sick from the rhubarb later? like when I woke up it was great, tasted amazing, totally fine. then later I got that "sour headache" bit and the thought of it made me sick, I started throwing up, stomach burning, head tight and foggy, etc. why?

but mostly I was looking for two things I think. one, water, and two, sweet things? like if I could have the fruit it was both, not too sweet because that makes me sick. but I was looking for water and sweetness.
not sure what that says about me right now.


I feel purposeless lately. like I have no direction in life. I KNOW that's not true, I'm here for a reason which is bringing light and raising my vibration, remembering what I am at source, but in this ego mindset… it's false, I know, but it's a lesson. growth is true.
I feel sick. like my head feels punchy and raw, my stomach is angry and sad. I feel wrong and embarrassed and ashamed and all mixed-up like dirty water. when I feel like that I get so shameful I don’t care about feeling better, that's bad. but I get so hopeless, "well now I'm like this, look how sick I am, oh well." it's self-loathing in a numb sense. it's sad more than anything.
I don’t want to be bloated and sick and suck feeling. I want to be healthy and energetic and tight muscles and bright feeling. happy. like I want a healthy happy body. not the fit blog stuff. I don't like that, at least, not the "pride" and "performance" sense. I don't want to show off or impress anyone or be showy or obsessed. I just want to feel good, and nice.

I want to cry though. like what do I do, what is my 'sweetness' in life, what is my joy. what do I do to bring joy into my life, to allow it rather.
I keep rejecting good things, do you notice? I manifest money, I buy something sweet and healthy and enjoyable and nice. and I do enjoy it, it's wonderful, I don't get sick, it's great. but then I feel guilty for eating it, or I get terrified that I'm "breaking some rule" or doing something "shameful" or "not allowed," something happens where I feel I'm not allowed to have that thing, and I throw it up or throw it away. and then later I look for it again, and it's gone, and I'm sad and upset, you're wasting my money, but the voice responds "you're not allowed to have it." "it's not safe." "it's better that you don’t eat it." well then DON'T LET ME BUY IT. but they do. they say, "don't buy this. only buy this." and that little part of me gets mad and sad, "but it's sweet, why are you forbidding me from having it," even if it DOESN'T want to eat it.
you see? it wants SWEET THINGS IN LIFE and it isn't seeing any outside of food. but it KNOWS food isn't the answer, it gets guilty and sad, it's shallow, doesn't solve the problem, doesn't answer the equation. and it throws it away, ashamed.

nothing can give you joy. joy is self-produced, it's an internal thing. joy is our natural state.
so, how am I blocking joy? I need to meditate, I can tune right in. that's good.
but I need it in my daily life too. when I'm not doing the traditional meditation, sit still alone, I need joy still, to stay around in me. without ego chasing it away, snapping at it. when I "untune" from meditation, sadness comes up. anger comes up. "no purpose." "I don't want to sit here all night." so we can meditate for hours, listen to nice music, that's fine.
but. you do that hour after hour for days, you start to get sad anyway. no forward movement, no glowing steps down the path. stasis. what do they call it… stationary. stagnant. an object at rest stays at rest. inertia! it feels like inertia. and we NEED to move forward into more light, open up, but the sadness is OVERWHELMING, what do we do with that? just feel it? over and over? maybe. but it's weird to express, it has no roots that we can see, it's just an emotion. but it's crushing. either way, yeah, feel it so it doesn't pressurize and make us sick.

that too. "us." uh-oh here's the guilt and anger and shame.
"us." there is US. many of us.

"stupid fcking faker shame"
"they're not fcking real you're a fcking faggot drama queen"
"I didn't say that shut your whore mouth"
etc. etc.
see?
always tied to the headspace people, (let me just ignore the screaming voice)
she says "I'm not a voice"
then who are you

"I'm a person, better than you! better than them! they're fake! not real!"
let me just discuss this please
"no shut the fck up"
why? this isn't hurting you
"yes it is!! get out of my damn head you faggot ass bitch"


"us." god we need to tune into that without this angry girl shooting horrible amounts of rage and loathing and hatred at us.
hatred loathing. that's the best term. anger. rage. it's just corrosive and red-hot metal, horrible harshness. like someone strangling you, hands around your throat and crushing. but on fire, with that deep black red fire of hellish coal. burning iron. no ash, just caustic hatred burn. she's not a nice person, she hates us.

the topic no one will discuss is, "love." the angry girl scoffing and jeering at it already.
just because we love each other does not make us "selfish fcking whores" okay, that's the problem. love is in families, with friends, with strangers, with admiration. love is everywhere. love is the core of the world.
"you're just trying to justify your fcking faggot ass ways, fck you, whore slut"
see what we have to deal with?
do we tune her out? she SCREAMS, "no!" she is very loud and it hurts. like internal ear ache from the volume and rage. it's scary really I don't like her and it makes me want to cry

but this is why we are struglling with the joy thing. there's that hate and rage towards anything that we "used to love" or truly do, deep down, and the denial makes us sick.

I do love the system, the rest of us, they're great people, I love them. we all hold a lot of love for this system and it. headspace. heartspace. but when we say "we love
each other" there's that sick scared shifty-eyed feeling, total shame. the sort of sick shame that feels like fluorescent lights and sticky paint, empty rooms, getting undressed because that is shameful. why. why is the body shameful. because we were told it to? because it's not. it's a body. what is so shameful, why should we be ashamed of having a physical body that we all live in
it is not dirty and wrong, stop repeating that. it is an old untruth. it is a LIE. it is FALSE. it is NOT REAL.
but see the "each other" bit makes that feeling come up. it is tied to being used, I can't even imagine why, or how
like why would you even do that to someone
we can't even step into that perspective.
Normally when there are two sides of consciousness to a situation, we can shift between the two as an observer and assess each side, to understand each motivation. Do you understand? But in this example which Simeon presented, that of two individuals in a "flushed-out energy room" (that's the term I'm getting?), a sort of mall dressing room actually-- the energy vibe of those sticks to it, that sort of anti-privacy, risk of irreverent exposure, the feeling of the body being treated as a commodity or item to sell, or decorate for the whims of others-- in that example, the opposite mindset is unavailable. It's impossible to understand, and so there is simply no data whatsoever.
The threat in that supposed situation was, that in saying "we love each other," this was meant in a licentious, abusive way. The mental image was that of a feminine figure, sitting in this room, in a vulnerable state-- getting undressed, something natural to do in private, when one wears clothing-- and being overwhelmed by both shame and "dull fear." The figure is hoping to embrace their innocent openness, the feeling of emotional sincerity and total vulnerable completeness of their individual aloneness, in this sacred private state. Let me make that more comprehensible… alone, the figure has the right and the ability
to unclothe, removing these "barriers" and becoming completely "open?" There's a word I can't find, for that feeling. It's the sense of being completely candid, sincere, harmless, and innocent, pure intentions and total self-love, yet with a strong strength and empowered completeness to it. It's the sense of totally compassionate self-groundedness, of safety and love within the body, of treating it like a temple, and also a vessel of a sacred soul. That is the feeling tied to nakedness, to privacy, to being alone and able to do such things.
But in that example, instead of embracing that "true" feeling, the figure was frightened? The projected feeling was one of "shame," (it is currently incomprehensible), of "I shouldn't be naked, this is shameful," etc. But the angry girl's accusation caused a secondary figure of thought to enter the room then, in a telling manner-- without any reverence or respect, without any care for this individual before them, without any acknowledgment of their sacred individuality. This figure who entered the room-- admittedly, a caricature of "masculinity" as this outside culture has defined it-- enters with unknown intention, but this intention causes the feminine figure to "shut down" mentally, the way our body did during past abusive situations. The mind blanked out, burying all emotions, to prevent fear and anger and sorrow and indignation from making a threat to their life, through angering the opposing figure. But that ill-intentioned figure's intentions are actually incomprehensible, entirely, and so I cannot tell you what they are, ever. The generalized default is "they intend to harm the woman," but strangely this intention becomes fiercer when the "woman's" physical gender expression is changed to male: "they intend to destroy them." Again, odd, because the word "man" seems locked into a binary mindset, therefore it cannot be used
without extending that gentleness onto the other "man." Therefore, the pronoun changes to neutral. I'm writing that down as it tells of our subconscious mechanics and that is always wise to know.
Nevertheless, the intention of harming another is incomprehensible. Now, with the head quiet (as I am in it) and no torment, I can look at this situation, and the angry figure indeed matches our comprehension. His expression changes to a shocked realization, he lets go of the other boy, he expresses sincere apology. We cannot fathom harming another.
But. Some other part of the subconscious kicks in. Change the boy back to a girl. What happens now? The
opposer is now our mindset. He cannot attack. The woman now becomes the rage-filled attacker, and the instant the opposing man lays a hand on her, she explodes in a spiderlike flurry of sheer hatred, intending to kill, blind-minded and incapable of seeing him as a human. Do you see? This is also locked into our subconscious, due to past events, due to these harsh voices. It must be rewritten, against all instinct and programming.
The other threat is the fulfillment of the initial fear. That would equal the "woman" figure abandoning all sense of sacred privacy, of intimate chastity, and joining the man in hedonistic, senseless lasciviousness. No minds, no hearts, no thoughts. Just blind robotic action. We can't look at it, from either side, without changing it entirely… without injecting blessed consciousness into the situation and stopping it at a dime, with sorry apologies and concern now expressing on both sides.
Ideally… see, this is why I regret looking at those other mindsets. It is infectious. Ideally, the feminine figure would be left alone, her solitude respected, no danger occurring. But time stops then. We struggle with that, you see? When linear time enters the equation, the threat of hacks appears. Sacred isolation is great when time does not compute. When time is there, then the fear of hacks follows. I am not sure how to surpass that.
This is a long paragraph, I apologize.

Let me continue. Having these imaginary situations play out instinctively in the brain is a telling scheme. If I change the initial physical gender of this individual… now, a male in body (still brain-classified as feminine; "masculine" is tied to violence)… he cannot embrace the sort of sacred isolation of the woman form. Where a physical female would easily tune into that feeling of softness, that "pink" feeling of divine intimacy, safe and loving, defined by virtue and untouched by lust, the male would feel isolated from it. This is strange. Regardless of physical appearance shifts-- different builds, different faces, etc. to emphasize 'femininity' or 'masculinity'-- the internal initial feeling of "purity" remains the same, as it did with the woman, and yet this man still feels cut off from the total self-embracing compassion that the woman practically felt synonymous with. And yet he is not; but he cannot tune into it.
Why is this? Why is it that, when this imaginary man sees and tries to connect with that feeling, he pulls back out of imposed shame, of the feeling that he "is not allowed to feel that," that he will "taint it" or otherwise be mocked or deeply condemned for it? Why is this? I can feel it; if he embraced it he would shine like the snow, every face carrying the same bright joy, tearful from bliss. Nothing out of tune, total self-love, total virtuous integrity. There is no threat here, no hacks, no abuse, total healing. And yet the man, initially, recoils with utmost reluctance. He wants to become this totality more than anything, but he has been told-- he has been programmed
not to. He has been shamed or damned or ordered not to, he has been told to act differently. Again, although I can list those differing behaviors-- the masculine clichés-- I cannot understand them, I cannot comprehend them. Violence, anger, greed, lust, hate. It hurts to write them. "Fear" is imposed on feminines as a result, as victims, but they are not. The men are jailed in this false mindset and those who get close enough to their core to feel this sparkling whiteness, this completion of anima and animus internally, this totality of self-- they cry, secretly, in the soul, as I would admittedly… to realize that there is such blessed virtue hidden here, forbidden from being shown. There is joy, there is life, there is blessed light, healing, integrity. There is honor in caring, there is no shame in vulnerability, there is an abundance of softer emotions that were never exclusive to either sex, so to speak. But the men were forbidden from feeling them, at some alleged great risk. Again, it hurts my head to try and fathom.
We are lucky, I suppose, as we are also unlucky. Our gender stereotypes have always been reversed, since the "dawn of time" in headspace, since the childhood of the body. Men were "feminine," and indeed the word for us elicits images of them-- men were caring, gentle, kind, loving, soft-hearted, and emotional. They were tender-minded and affectionate. They were the living example of what that "feminine figure" from before embraced totally, and they never showed any signs of having been barred from it in the first place. For us, for the original child's mind, men
were feminine. This was natural for them. Even the "manliest men" had hearts of cloud, great awe-inspiring things that were softer than snow. But they were closer to their compliment now, to the power of the women, by that masculinity.
This is because, for that same original child,
women were masculine. Now, initially, this too was a great blessing-- women were powerful, strong, assertive, tough, indomitable. Women were powerhouses, they protected all, they were mountains of strength in both body and mind. They had unflinching honesty and integrity, they defined honor and their very presence elicited admiration. They were like fires, like great mountains, all stone and flame where the men were cloud and water. And on the same page, even the most "feminine" (for us, similar to the men) of women still held a burning flame within her, undeniable to all, powerful and bright.
Nature was the great balancer. Nature was the genderless child, the green youth running bright-eyes through the trees, full of puckish zeal and boundless energy, impish and unstoppable, as free as the wind but crackling with hidden lightning. The trees were the child, an individual holding neither gender but embracing both, loving both, caring for both.
And then the abuse happened, and it was all perpetrated by women. Suddenly we had forest fires and fissures. Suddenly the women became what that "angry voice" Simeon struggled with is. Men somehow stayed forgivingly spotless until 2007 or so, during Cannon's era. But those years are tangled and, again, it hurts to think about them.
I know why. There were no abusive men, ever. But what the women
did tainted the playing field for all of us. And that's where the "we love each other" phrase gets its fear from.

The original abusive women made femininity into something frightening. They wore it in painted-on mockeries, in loud and brazen screeches, and worst of all as warning sirens. I should clarify: we were only ever abused by
visually feminine women. So the mother became the most feared physical individual for a while. But-- let me move on, I don't want to dwell on this as it will put down bad roots-- through this abuse of femininity, we eventually became absolutely terrified of feminine things… including closeness, softness, intimacy, sincerity, et cetera. Anything that matched that pastel pink color was now grouped in with the lurid lipstick hue, confused beyond recognition, and labeled as lethal.
So. Because of that and society, "love" became a dirty word. It was used by the abusers to describe things that were nothing but malice. It was used by strangers to describe things that reminded us of the abuse, that made us freeze up in choking fear and check out entirely. You get the point. And so when we suddenly began to meet men-- who were still otherwise harmless to us-- who were now seeking romance, or something close to it, Cannon appeared. Her sister was the one who was a "female without femininity," an empty shell capable only of parroting the "surface level behavior" of how a woman was supposed to act, nothing deep or genuine. Cannon dealt exclusively with the relationship business, but she and Laurie were the sudden, vengeful, and wrathfully heartbroken resurgence of the
masculine female, the ideal that had been buried for years. What am I saying. Cannon hated romance, whether it was from a man or a woman, because to her it was the source of all corruption. Without "romance," without sexuality, without any of that nonsense, both women and men were spotless. With it, they were both ruined. So that's where the hatred of Jacob came from initially, something we never understood until we could see Cannon's true motivation.

In recent years we've since healed the femininity label, and it's now completely recognizable again. We're still cleaning up the masculinity, as it is still strongly tied to the abusive/abrasive females in our System (and the outer world too). However we are struggling desperately with healing the "relationship" label once there is a degree of genuine closeness. Parents, friends, admirers, partners, they are all spat on with seething condemnation by the angry voices, once they form a genuine connection with the person they "love." And that word should not be in quotation marks, but I suppose that is a Freudian slip in its own way.
Love is still doubted. Do you see how terribly painful that is? Love is still doubted. For whatever reason, one cannot say "us" or "each other" or "I love you" in here without being called a-- excuse me-- a slut or a heathen or a whore.
It's keeping headspace from happening, lately, so to speak. The AP is being so forceful in light of this problem that it is becoming progressively more difficult for us to communicate with each other while fronting. We must be "isolated" so as to "remove all threats." (Laurie says this is "complete nonsense" and I must say it is quite a relief to hear her speaking up in light of this topic.)
Jay suffers the most. He is the one singled out for utmost hate and condemnation by the angry voices. He is the one who is perpetually referred to with slurs and insults (as I listed before). He is constantly told that he is an abomination, against both his own morality and the greater purpose of things, because he
loves people. That is absolutely incomprehensible to me. How could that even be? But it isn't, and that is the point. Jay is doing nothing wrong, and yet every fiber of this programming is screaming with rage that he is the very definition of wrongness. Everything negative in this collective mind hates his guts. But everyone in our System sees that there is nothing to hate him for.
Laurie is the most torn up over this, understandably so, as she has seen and known firsthand the truth of this situation.
It's hard to even type this. The brain is actually trying to shut me out.

There is a deep-rooted hatred and shame and loathing tied to all close relationships, especially those that can be labeled as "romantic," whether they are or not. This probably has the strongest ties to Cannon, who is still in tears with hatred over what people have done to us under the label of "romance" before.
Jay is aromantic, which makes this even more difficult. He does not understand "movie romance," or what is marketed to him, in either expression or motivation. He's rather repulsed by it, admittedly. But he has absolutely no fear about expressing love to others when he genuinely feels it
. This is the important distinction. The fear keeps assuming that Jay is acting from the same incomprehensible motivations as the abusers, simply by being in a relationship of any sort. The brain has defined the very word "relationship" AS abusive, at this point, in all contexts. This is false. But the knee-jerk fear is crushingly difficult to get over.
Part of this is programming. Jay is still terrified of being abused, God knows why (that was Laurie). He slips out of self-love due to doubt, and becomes frightened that the other person in the situation is
obligated to be abusive, regardless of their real intention. That's what I mean by the word 'relationship' being dangerous. He automatically assumes that since he can't hurt anyone, that they're going to hurt him instead, that they HAVE to. That needs to be healed.

Those harmful thoughts are not true, and we need to stop reiterating them. We need to focus on positive truths, as I did earlier, which was significant. When we truly focus on and
feel positive truths, even if we are just reciting or reading them, the vibration sticks. If we can all focus on the PROOF that relationships within this System are safe and loving and positive, then this fear will be overcome, as the fear has no roots left. None. Yes, it sure looks like it does. But they are brittle and dead. We have reached a state of mind where we KNOW we are being lied to, and where our reaction is to simply shift our attention to the truth instead-- fighting a lie only gives more energy to the lie, as we know with the Tar and Plague.
So I apologize if I temporarily made this trickier, through discussion of it… Laurie says there's nothing to apologize for, it helped highlight a lot of important things "and we're all grateful for it." I'm glad to hear it, Laurie, thank you.


Where was I.

It’s strange, fronting for long periods of time, because then you invariably notice, even if only for a moment, that you are in this body. It's confusing, as far as mismatching goes, but never have I ever thought of it as something negative. I love this body. I truly do. Not in the sense that is "mentally implied"-- the 'hedonistic' sense, of someone who lives wastefully and unwisely. No, I love it as one loves a young child, and watches over it, not as a parent but as a custodian. This body to me feels foreign, and yet I am not it, I am simply residing within it halfway. Temporarily, as well. But it is something to be taken care of. It
is innocent, like a child, and just as trusting. It is deserving and needing of care and protection. This we must do, and I am willing to ensure that it is done. Javier and the others will too. But this voice, this strange reckless girl who claims to "own" the body, hates it, and hates us. I don't think she can understand us, just as we cannot understand her.

Laurie says not to listen to her. Simeon says that's tricky as she's loud. Laurie says "well, then just get a pair of earplugs or something." Perhaps that
is good advice. "Ignorance is bliss," in the correct context. If we know this angry voice is nothing but a malicious liar, then let's simply not pay attention to her. Don't think ill of her, don't yell at her, don't interact with her. Just relinquish your attention, with humility and self-respect (not pride or judgment, that will only feed a different negativity), and turn your focus to what is real instead.
I'm beginning to sound like Jay. Laurie says "then maybe you should get out of there." Perhaps I should. I know he has "homework" to do from therapy but I do not know if it would be wise to start it at this hour (Laurie says no). This body had a tricky day, but let's focus on the positives. Laurie, that should be a daily exercise, I think. She agrees, so let's write this stuff down. Who fronted for this entry earlier?


Good things about today=
(by lots of people!! Jewel too, this is my job obviously XP)
1. We're listening to M+A on Spotify right now and this is such cool music, I love the style, it's like candy popcorn in a turbine. Really! It's glitchy and cute and unique. Music is so great.
2. This entry. It helped us get our thoughts together and it shed light on some important issues. They say "you are wherever you need to be," so I am glad this was written, even if I cannot see the ultimate relevance to it from here. That is fine.
3. I'm glad the kid didn't do anything stupid this evening, when that massive depression hit. Could've been much worse than it was.
4. Jewel just wants to start writing a huge list of things we're thankful for, but this one is only for today. So to that I will simply say, I am thankful for her. She is a ray of sunshine in our System.(Awww, thank you!! <3)
5. Do you guys ever realize how fantastically cool food is? Like I know you two don't eat, but that rhubarb stuff is AMAZING before whatever afteraffects you said there were kicked in
(Spice says that's why you need to check in with us before eating things). Yeah I don't get bad food stuff. But apples are great, rhubarb is great, I think that's all I remember. Salad is Emmett's thing. I'm thankful for Emmett too, he's cute! He hasn't been around lately though? We'll have to leave reminders out or something, he's important.
6. I'm glad the bad lady went away.
7. We got some exercise in this morning, so we're on schedule.
8. It was a SUNDAY and Sundays have such a nice vibe to them.
9. Jay here. I'm thankful for the massive synchronicity that just hit with this song.


…I purposefully taped the pictures of Chaos and Xenophon that
Nikki drew for us behind this computer… that way I will see them at least once every day, without getting distracted by unimportant things. This is important, what we have and how we feel for each other is important, and there's that doubt again. Please go away.
…No, that’s never worked. Let me follow Sherlock and Laurie's advice. (also really this song is beautiful.)
I have this huge fear that anything vaguely like "romantic love" is morally wrong. However that
only applies to me; Sherlock you missed that. (He says he didn't know; that's okay. You know it now, dear.)
I am honestly sick of people telling me that
everyone else is allowed to show every sort of affection, without the slightest hint of condemnation, and yet I can’t so much as say the word "dear" without being called a slut. There's absolutely no reason for it.

I am capable of love. I know I am. To be incapable would be an impossibility.

I think the fear is something different.
I think the fear springs from my vice of apathy, and my fear of being used. My
real fear is that I don't actually love them at all. My real fear is that I am more comfortable with emotionless numbness than I am with "signing myself over to someone." And that's NOT what love is. But some part of my subconscious still insists that "a relationship"-- again, of ANY sort-- means that I have to "sell myself" for it to work. (Laurie keeps saying this is wrong in the background, don't worry I hear you) ("but do you believe me," she says. Yes, I do. It just needs to put roots down)
Yes, I love my daughter, and I want the best for her, and I want to see her happy and taken care of. She brings me so much joy, I adore her. But just because I'm her "father" does NOT mean that I have to sacrifice my own self, my own health and happiness, in order TO care for her.
Yes Laurie, I saw that eyebrow raise. This is how weird my thought process is from all these false lessons. My subconscious keeps getting so entrenched in fear, that it forgets that the other person
is a person, and not just a temporary entity that exists in order to abuse and/or use me. Once I care about someone or something, my brain says, "you now have to dedicate every moment of your life to it, or you won't actually love it." And when I say no, that's ridiculous, the voice says "then you don't actually love them. You're just selfish." So part of me ends up angry and sad and frustrated because I want to be able to love myself too, I want to be able to care for my own needs, but this programmed voice says "NO, you CANNOT love yourself if you want to love someone else." That's the old diseased root.
Laurie says, "where does the abuse come in." Uh… hm. I don't think it does, not here. This is the "male" abuse. The "female" abuse was outright destruction, merciless sabotage. The "male" abuse was this stuff, the feeling of "do everything I say, devote every moment of your life to me, don't upset me or disappoint my expectations." And the penalty of not doing that, was feeling that I was
incapable of actual love, that I was unworthy of being loved, that I was too selfish and slutty to actually care about anyone. Oh dear heavens that is textbook misogyny, I never realized that until now. Geez. Wow. But yeah, it was a double standard. "I'm going to demand everything of you, because you love me, as proof that you love me. But I won't give you anything." And that has been 'my' fear in every single "relationship" since 2007 or whenever Spinny and Cannon showed up, I don't know, I wasn't around, this is ancient data.
But it bleeds over into
my relationships now, IF they fit that context. Laurie, you are shockingly and blissfully exempt, probably because you're totally aromantic and asexual, therefore making you "incapable" of that vicious demanding (it's tied to romance). Genesis is hit-and-miss. We're mostly friends, and he's harsh at times, so I can act natural around him. Wait, that's weird. The harshness seems to be a saving grace. When people aren't soft or romantic, they're totally safe, but when they are, the fear is that they will act like those men or women of the past? I don't know, this makes my head hurt, I am slipping terribly. Sherlock says "then don't talk about it."

Sorry. I slip worse than anyone. This is all garbled nonsense, I'm not really here. I'm co-fronting with someone I think.
I think that's the real problem here. I really do. I really think that's the problem.
I'm only terrified of Chaos and avoidant around Xennie and bitter around Genesis and numb around Laurie
when I'm actually not the person fronting. When I'm centered and aware of myself, that problem isn't there.
And now my heart is absolutely
shattering because I just realized, CZ is an EMPATH, he picks up everything I radiate; maybe he's only ever "frightening" because he's picking that up FROM ME? Oh God that's terrifying, I am so sorry. But it makes total sense. Total sense. "Everyone is your mirror," and he's the clearest mirror I've ever had, we know each other too well. He never, ever, EVER scared me when I was in tune with my own soul. In those cases he is this divine compliment, you all know that. But when I'm feeling dissonant, when I can't quite get a grip on my name or my face or anything, then he acts differently, he slips too, oh dear God I never realized that. How did I not catch that before. Xenophon would always notice, maybe that's why I unconsciously avoid her, maybe the Plague really is puppeteering me at this point. I can't let that continue. I can't.
But there's hope, there's a lot of hope. I need to carry reminders. I have to be careful though so things don't get numbed out. Infi I'd wear your necklace, ze says please do if it will help. It's probably the best option; Infi's energy hits like a
truck so even if a negative fronter tries to numb out the response to it, any contact will punch through that. Thank God.

Okay, I'm sorry, I'm unraveling really badly right now. I still don't know who I am. I'm splintered all over the place. People keep calling me by the wrong names, I can't remember the last time someone called me the right name, I don't even know what my name
is.
We'll figure this out. Should I stay here, should someone else come out, or what?
Laurie says stay in and calm down. There's a horrible anxious fear in here.




Hey, Jayce here. Holding the house for a second. I don't do anything like eat or binge or abuse so chill out, Laurie. I'm just gonna listen to this tune for a minute. Also Jay's right, there's a lot of fear hanging around, but I think it's in this document, or at least in the typing. Like just writing in here feels anxious. Yeah maybe you should close it up. Hold up, music time. I'll be out when it's over, then you just do whatever. 'Kay thanks.
(btw you guys gotta stop being so negative, take a page from me and Jewel, seriously. lighten up. life is good.)





…No, my name is Jay Iridos. It locks right in when I am myself. I think that says a lot.
Splinters happen, but they happen for a reason. Our mind compartmentalizes things for healing's sake. But I love every splinter, I love every voice that ever was and ever will be, because we all have a reason to be here.
Words are laughably tough for me because I feel thoughts, I don't say them. Poetry is my thing.
This song is lovely, thanks Jayce.

If we try to type any more, this entry will collapse. Words aren't working for what I want to say. Sherlock's point about "focusing" would be wise to act upon daily. (Sorry, language.) Laurie, you always understand what the real truth is, and you always guide others towards walking that path on their own, not ever dragging them (far). Thank you for always speaking up when people get lost momentarily, we follow your voice back most of the time.
Jewel, you always see the brightest things so thank you for giving us a constant light of hope and optimism. I'm slipping again, that happens when I try too hard to say things.
Words are not my native language, at all. I love all of you.

Oh yes. Also, why it's causing me a lot of discomfort to discuss this. I literally just had
this article forwarded to me by the universe, and that explains this better than I can. This entry feels like a jumble, let's be careful not to let that repeat. Sherlock dear you think too hard, we all do, but I appreciate the love that led you there.

Laurie insists I close up in my usual way, so I will. Have a lovely night, all of you, sincerely.

 



 

 

may 17th

May. 18th, 2014 02:08 am
prismaticbleed: (held)

 

 

Things lately have been kind of hellish, yet fluctuating between total suicidal despair and a refusal to give up hope. I think we're possessed for real, the violent outbursts + time loss are getting worse and we have apparently tried to attack people? That is not good at all and I want to stop it.
We had an emergency therapy appointment on Friday because of all that. It made me realize that "self-care" is dangerous for us because I don't know how to think of myself as a separate being," so to speak, therefore my mind has two options: "care for others and not exist as a person, but be totally happy and feel complete," OR, "care for yourself and the world doesn't exist, so to heck with them." The big problem? Option #1 is my state of existence. Option #2 belongs to whatever girl fronts in this body when headspace is unplugged. Anyway it made me realize that the "self" insisting on being cared for is not taking any of our selves into account, and we all feel angry and frustrated and sad because the "self-care" everyone outside is praising us for, is actually killing us. That was quite a revelation so I want to write it down.
The family keeps telling us to literally "run from our problems," basically "distract ourself from the pain and pretend everything is fine," and that is making a lot of us really mad obviously.
I'm listening to Library Tapes right now it's really pretty
We had a doctor's appointment yesterday? I think? Friday. It was oddly distant. But Spice and Wreckage got really mad in the waiting room because they wanted us to take pills, and Spice says NO PILLS but Wreckage knows that they are thinking psychological problems need physical treatments and that has NEVER worked. So she fronted when we got home, total suprise, very mad I remember. She was sittng in the car and shouting. I don't know what she said but it felt very real for her to be there. Then she noticed the nature outside was very pretty, all bright green and covered with rain, and she got really kind of sad because, "I don't know how to feel about this." Spice dealt with that too, when she first spoke to us in the body, she saw how beautiful the world was otuside and it broke her heart because "my anchor is tied to fear and pain, it's a job we need for me to help heal it, is it even possible for me to feel peace and good things without completely abandoning that role and therefore forcing someone else to take it?" it's convoluted and very sad hi this is simeon by the way!
oh jewel fronted on the way home too, we lost $20 i think? i dont know its not the first time. either way we lost money. oh no we lost $30 that was it. and jewel got mad, said it's "okay to want to have enough moeny to take care of ourselves," BUT we were scared because some bad voices keep using the money for mad tings. they tell us we "must do this must buy that" and it makes jay very sad because there aer LOTS of mean bad voices trying to yell at him and order him around and do stuff. but he says their voices are in his head but our voices are in his heart. so he can tell its us and not them! that makes me really happy. we will have to try and make sure we stay here then, sometimes things get "unplugged" and no one can find each other

I have a headache and I've had once since I woke up, dreams lately have been nightmarish in the empty "the world is dry and yellow and dead empty" sort. All flat dead air and no living hills and things.
There have been lots of hack nightmares too. it makes us not want to sleep a lot but we have to
It's tough lately, getting through the day. We don't want to spend all our time on the computer, especially not with the EMF stuff, but otherwise we literally end up exercising for 3+ hours or sleeping. There has got to be a better option, how do we deal with this, what do we do, what are we even dealing with,
there was a hack this morning,
i figureed out why they are so traumatic. because the split is TOTAL. reality and psychology and comprehension and presence are totally disconnected. i never know what happens or when or how or what until it's finished, then suddenly i'm snapped back, everything hurts, i'm scared, body is literally telling me that it is frightened and damaged.
the pink girl noticed and started shrieking in pain, sobbing, wanting to die from hopelessness but also so furious that she wanted justice done. so wreckage showed up, went upstairs, i was also too sick to exist so i shut off and the main consciousness switched to some think i never saw before. some raelly scary unknown pink monster voice with butcher knives for hands (and no face?) was main, showed up to attack infi, wanted to kill hir. got close. fought wreckage, also tried to kill me. i lost my legs i told them i "didn't want them anyway" that was weird i didn't remember any of this until like three hours later
wreckage and the fuchsia monster fought, but it was weird it's like no one actually wants to fight anymore, it's hard for even the retributors to draw blood. they will try to fight to bring justice and atonement, but it is so difficult. i felt that bleedover and it shocked me, when did all our hearts soften this much, when did we all become so unwilling to cause pain anymore that we started stagnating in the "painless agony" the others dealt? the bad voices, the scraeming ones, the demons, they never cut us up, but the bleeding was always done out of love, even totally misplaced, they always wanted to make something better. i love every single scar on this body dear god i do, it reminds me of them always, i love them.
but the bad people never ever ever leave scars at least not physical ones. and that is the problem. how do we fix that? how do you heal a wound that you can't even find or see
we could always stop the bleeding, but we can't stop this, and we're dying from it
it needs to stop.
i dont know how infi is doing i havent seen hir and weirdly i cant be scared of hir even now, i'm scared of hir being USED like the tar keeps doing. yes it is still alive of course. i saw it yesterday i think, soemthing called it, it as horrifying, it still can call up body flashbacks instantly. sometimes i wonder if they'er not flashbacks at all. they say the inner realms are just as real, JUST AS REAL, stop doubting us and everything, even the scary stuff. i know that it is literal even there. so i dont want to relive those memories, NO ONE DOES, no one wants to go to therapy and talk about the pain and the rape because its like we live it again right there, NO ONE WANTS THAT
and the tar can bring it all back in a second
the plague is different, the plague is disease, is thunderstorm air and hurricanes coming to punish us. it is quiet panic creeping and wrath of god and burning-red stares of hatred and no emotion. the tar is the opposite, the tar is outright maniacal outbursts and flooding of sickness black heavy choking. the plague is quiet and scary
what are we talking about sorry.
there are no bad feelings right now though. except the body is sick again. not sure why. someoen told us to eat one thing it is good, it was not? we arent sure lots of people were home so we dont know who ate what, spice is tired, why isnt emmett eating, we need to make sure he always does he's safe.

but therapy has been difficult lately because we are finally processing trauma memories. I haven't been capitalizing, sorry. We haven't been, rather. Sorry!
But yeah people are trying to finally admit that "yes it DID happen" and "yes it STILL hurts" and "oh by the way this HASN'T STOPPED either" but there is so much guilt and shame and self-loathing and anger at those things, why were we taught to be ashamed of saying we are in pain, why were we punished for crying out for help, all the abused ones in the system are getting SO ANGRY because they WANT TO HEAL and they are SICK OF BEING IGNORED.
we all are tired of being ignored, not by jay, he just gets scared, we forgive him. but the rest of the world likes to ignore deny and taht is sad we want to live too
even if its inside we are safe and fine here. so many people cant live in one body! but we dont want to be ignored. we are real and loving good people too you know
we just want to be happy, ALL of us, together. that's it really

Oh, forgot to mention. We made the phone call to start hormones yesterday. FINALLY. So hopefully that will start in July. I hope so, for all of us. If the dysphoria abates a little, the healing will probably boost through the roof. The therapist thinks so too, she is helping us as much as possible with this, we're so glad.
Hospitalization is still up in the air, tentative date was June but we're not sure, again because we want to see if T helps or anything. Plus we really don't want to go back into a hospital environment, and have eating trouble. They aren't very understanding of some things even though they try. But being in a place where everyone knows we're multiple, and there are other systems... it would be really nice in a way, IF WE DIDN'T HAVE THIS BAD PERSON FRONTING ALL THE TIME sorry for yelling. that wasn't me. but it is very very sad and i'm angry about it too a little!

Jeremiah fronted for about five seconds this morning, after the hack. It broke my heart to feel that, because he used to be the guy that took the pain in order to protect the children, to keep it from ever reaching them, but existing just to feel THAT was a literal hell. It was driving him mad I think. But today he couldn't even force himself to feel it, it was too terrible, he started sobbing and just went inside to watch over the children.
The body reactions to hacks are really the worst thing, because they make no sense whatsoever, it just freaks out totally and that is what scared us the most as a child. No one knew how to comprehend that! And it was WORSE back then, with the blood and the convulsions and the massive dissociation (pre-headspace). Now the body still gets horribly ill, but the numbness of long-term abuse at least allows things to shut down entirely sometimes. Which is sad but at least it keeps anyone from feeling it sometimes. Ash shouldn't have to, Jeremiah shouldn't have to, I shouldn't have to, NO ONE SHOULD EVER FEEL THIS. This should never happen to anyone. And yet it does, and it's terrifying, and Infi gets the worst of it because ze is the one trapped in that territory. It breaks my heart. We all know what the truth is but the bad things keep trying to mangle that and ze suffers, it's not fair, it's too cruel.

There were a LOT of triggers today. The dead red boy almost came out a few times. We lost a LOT of time. I know we went food shopping because I remember walking out the door with Genesis, but then boom, I remember almost nothing of the evening after that instant. That's upsetting. It happens almost every time we leave the house.
We didn't eat until about 8pm again today, thanks to religious paranoia/ not hungry/ food is tied to abuse/ etc. It's upsetting that there's still so much moral insanity lingering around, it keeps us from doing much. The absolute worst breakdowns we ever have are always tied to spirituality somehow, that childhood fear of being evil incarnate, of being disposable and filthy. I got a lot of help today towards healing that via a few spiritual-blog links, but the main website I used to go to for those is extremely dangerous at times because it has so many authors, and our brain has a bad habit of thinking it's all the "gospel truth," until it realizes that the articles often contradict each other. So yeah, I follow what I get, then I leave. I can't force things, even with good intentions, as it doesn't end well. I'm trying to learn how to tap into our intuition more without being drowned out by bad voices or 'obligations,' but that won't be instantaneous. Still I'm putting in honest effort. I'll have to ask Leon to help maybe. Headspace always helps either way.

I went outside to talk to my favorite cherry tree earlier, the little gnarly one in the back yard, I am so glad no one cut it down. It's my friend and it is so nice and I'm always so happy talking to it. So I just leaned against it for a bit and felt happy and thanked it for always being willing to chill out with me, haha.

I'm feeling nice now. Surprisingly. I think it's just because this happened, this typing.
Laurie's been asking me for weeks to have a Xanga session and I don't know why I haven't agreed? It's this weird fear, of how much I'll feel maybe, or of the unquestionable reality of it that always hits. Headspace holds glory and gore both, and you have to accept those two things when it's around. And I've been scared to.
But I love her. I love all of us, and that's worth trying. Lynne's been hanging around lately, a lot, which is great. She and Laurie were joking around yesterday, and there was something about Freud and eggplant which was so funny that I ended up laughing out loud. Waldorf has been around rather frequently too, so have Leon and Nathaniel, Nat especially has been quite talkative. Spine often follows Lynne and we've been trying to include her more lately; also she was talking to us about something super important yesterday and I wish I remember what. So was Mulberry! I clearly remember seeing her, notably her suit stood out in my mind. Knife's been here and there, it's always good to see him. Sugar fronted for a minute or so sometime last week, just to check in, I don't know when but there she was. Spice is practically a regular now, she and Laurie get along well. Algorith seems to be buddying up with Wreckage. And I've been talking to Sergei and Hyakin a lot lately, actually, they're really cool. Sergei spoke to the mother on the phone some morning a week or two ago, that stands out in my head because I had just woken up and she started talking about flowers and he was like "really" and just took over. That's really funny in retrospect.
Garrison also spoke to me a bit today (I missed him!), plus he was helping last week when Laurie was talking to my bro. It's good to see he and the others are still around; he said the archivists have been rather overwhelmed with all the data recently, I said don't be too logical about it because then you get trapped. Sherlock can help with that, he's abandoned the logic box and he's now a sort of "librarian" figure in my eyes, like total love of knowledge but also the creative freedom that follows it and books and learning. Which is great.
CZ's been trying to ghost more lately, he spent almost an entire afternoon with me earlier this week, it was one of the most genuine days I've experienced in a while. Xenophon was around too, I talk to her or visit her whenever I can, I really try. Cel is always around, Ryman and Markus are doing their own thing lately but they aren't disconnected from us totally, which is neat.
There's more richness to our inner life than I give it credit for, I think.
But just... typing, tonight, has helped. Just all of us trying to express things, just all of us being totally acknowledged, helps.

I'm also trying to work on this. It's tough as I keep forgetting anatomy proportions (sorry, I'll need to get safe refs) and art is really tricky on bad nights, but still, it means a lot. Very much WIP but I'm feeling a lot of love and gratitude right now and I feel like sharing is okay.



Told you I was going through with it.
I will talk about that more as I work on it. As of now, it just brings up a lot of emotions just to look at. I mean seriously, I'm trying to draw us. That's big.
I want to do at least one more set, with the Retributors probably. I might ultimately draw everyone. I want to, in one way or another.

For the record... this song always makes me think of the Retributors. Every one of them started out swinging punches and blades, fighting with all their might.  But as time went on, they slowly realized that approach wasn't working as well as it once did, and really... we're not as cut out for this as we thought. The song really says it best.
Boxing's been good to us, but the whole time, we knew...

 


I think I need to type like this more, late at night, or during the day, or whenever. There's something about typing that just bypasses every emotional barrier, and no matter how much pain and sorrow and anger gets dragged up from the depths during it, in recent times it has shockingly always seemed to conclude in love. Always.
It's us, is what it is. D.I.D. is this ridiculously blessed and brutal "disorder," ironically as we ended up with a System from it... but embracing the reality of us, the totality of us, AS us, as a collective, as a togetherness and a unity... it has changed our life for the better. Obviously. If Cannon had tried to do it alone I think she would have died. If Laurie didn't always work so hard to keep us together, if the Outspacers didn't always stand fast in their own dreams and love and hope... really words don't work. Bottom line is, if at some point we had decided solidly, "I don't want this, I don't want them," we would have died. Our heart and soul would have died. We exist to protect health and coherence and light, that's why we ARE, even if our reality might make others insist we're insane. That doesn't matter. This matters.
There are people in the "anti-System"-- the people like Jessica and Bridget-- who have rejected us as a whole, who want to be selfish and cruel and seething with rage and hate, who refuse to acknowledge reality. They say it's "better that way," to outright deny the past and the present alike, to live according to whims. Sometimes they can be very convincing. But we exist to heal and so we have to trudge through the mud and dirt and blood first. We can do it though. We're holding hands through this and no one ever falls without being helped right back up to their feet, and we don't give up.

Words are failing, they really are. I want to cry right now because I am so sad that there is still unhealed damage here, and I love everyone in here, I love them all so much, how do I express that?
I always joke around that I want to kiss everyone in the System but damn it I do, it's one of the simplest most trusting and sincere actions of affection I know. You can hug someone and still be totally closed off, but you cannot snog someone halfheartedly. Jokes aside though, it's true. I adore all of us. And that's what hurts about what Simeon said, about not knowing how to live as Us. As a complete whole, made of many individuals. We want to balance that in our daily life because it is the only thing that makes me feel complete and real, honestly when I'm unplugged from headspace it is virtually impossible to feel the finer emotions. It's creepy in hindsight but it is true. But there's "good and bad" up here and we need to stop labeling that... it's all just how it is. That's how we are.

I need sleep. We haven't been sleeping well but I do know we need to rest. We need some good dreams. Minty and my boss (Mr. Sandman, who I love so freaking much he is great) still watch over us nightly, but sometimes it's hard for them to reach me and that's saddening. Still, people care. Laurie always watches. The Retributors always stand at attention. We're never alone. We're never hopeless. And that's really all I need to get through the day sometimes.

There is still so much that needs to be said, and I still owe you guys that map entry and all our Tumblr questions... but we'll take that bit by bit. We're dealing with a lot lately, but I promise you I don't want to slack off anymore. Yeah I might feel totally discarnate right now, but I also feel completely at peace, in a good way. The physical world might be jarring still but as long as I can tune into this in some way, every day, I think it'll be easier to manage. I haven't been doing this lately, by the way. Not a smart move.
Again, I'm rambling, which means I'm dissociated. Sorry about that.

Laurie's upset that it's 2am and I'm still awake ("kid, get your ass to bed") and I don't blame her. So that's it for tonight. I'll try to post another update tomorrow evening, even if it's small.
It's nice to be back. Feels like home in a weird way.
See you again soon.

 



041914

Apr. 19th, 2014 06:36 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


All right. Lent was a literal ED hellhole due to "fasting=holiness," but now that it's finally Easter, I've made up my mind.
This eating disorder has to stop, and it has to stop as soon as humanly possible.

I knew for years that my psychological stress was killing me on a mental and emotional level. It was eating me alive, making me incapable of functioning like a "normal person," and honestly it still is. But I never realized how lethal its side effects were until just now. This bulimic shit is absolutely killing us, and we cannot ignore it anymore, not now, not with how its exacerbating everything else we're coping with.
I just have to thank God that, after the near-hospitalization in high school (one of the scariest non-trauma related things I can remember), we stopped starving ourselves for at least two years. Yes, we did put on a lot of weight due to trying to "bury the pain" with food, apparently. But once we got a job in 2006, it got a little tougher to eat during the day. And once college started, it literally became impossible to eat for up to 10 hours at a stretch, sometimes. For a while we lived off of energy drinks, tea, and salad, Genesis can tell you that. We've restricted, we've exercised far more than is required, we've mangled our eating schedules and diets as much as possible so that we only had to actually ingest the bare minimum.
But the intentional vomiting, the awful binge-purge cycle, didn't start until the past year or so, when all the horrible trauma memories rose to the surface and made the very sensation of physical weight utterly unbearable. All of that started at once, in a paroxysm of desperation, wanting nothing more than to be free of the feeling that we were being devoured from the inside, that we were full of worms and spiders, that we were being dragged down into the dirt by the tar-pit weight clinging to our bones.
It's still there. It's still happening. It's almost blindly compulsive now, the fear is too great.
But the consequences have now reared their ugly heads as well.

There is so much pain, all the time. We're nauseous, we're weak, we're cold, we're dizzy and disoriented. Muscle spasms and aches are commonplace. We keep losing weight and the body is all swollen up and painful. Headaches, dehydration, breathing problems, chest pain. I can't remember the last time we had over 1000 calories in a day, to say the least, let alone the last time we kept everything down.
But I'm scared. I'm actually scared, because the stupid nightmares and flashbacks still won't go away and this stupid eating disorder was a coping mechanism for that, isn't that just wretched? Every damn time I say, "yeah, we're totally over the PTSD, everything is fine!" and then jump headfirst into social functions and new jobs and school, something happens within 48 hours of that alleged total healing, and that something knocks us twenty steps back and into a mire of terror. It's not healed. I want it to be, dear God I want it to be over, but the awful truth is that it's not.
If this was healed, a simple sound or glance or touch wouldn't trigger an instant reaction in me, blindly violent enough to draw blood.
I hate going through the day and not knowing when the body memories are going to strike. I hate being completely fine one second, and then being blindsided by the sudden flashback of some girl forcing herself on me, and having to lock myself in a car just to cry helplessly for an hour. I hate not being able to hold a job or go to school because so many things reduce me to tears or fearful rage or outright dissociation. I hate not being able to drive or shop or eat or talk because I can't seem to hold my brain and body together long enough to do it right.
The only option I can see is utterly annihilating headspace, because it started this whole living hell and maybe erasing it would stop it. But we've tried so many times, so many times, and it just kept coming back, worse than ever. Why? Why can't we seem to be free of this?

Why did we ever listen to her. Why the heck did we EVER let her convince us to stop self-mutilating. We KNEW that was the only thing standing between us and total destruction, it was a blessed SAFEGUARD, now look at what we've done since the scars disappeared!!
Algorith found a knife and started again, after the last hack. It was like a sign from God. But I fear she was too late.

We don't want to die like this. Not like this. But we've been such utter bastards as of late, destroying ourselves in the hope of somehow surviving as a result, it's bullshit. Now this body is probably broken for good, literally this time, not just figuratively, and we're the ones at fault.
This is hell. This is hell and I want to cry because God I want to die even now but I don't want to die in a misery of pain and filth. I don't want our last hours on this earth to be plagued by the same sort of horrible humiliating agony that defined so much of our life prior. I want to die in peace, for God's sake, please, just allow us that much. All I ever wanted was peace and health and happiness and I killed myself to get it. I am so sorry.

i hope, I hope with everything in me, that we haven't screwed this up too badly to fix. please.

I hate headspace right now. Today, the night before Easter, i literally hate headspace and everything in it.
its been nothing but pain and misery and totrutre and regret. rape and trauma and evil voices and noise and dissociation. i hate it.
i dont want to be an adult. i dont want to be a stupid grown-up and be forced to do all those bad things anymore.
i'm still twelve years old and i dont' care what they say, i stopped growing up when they showed up, i'm still back in elementary school and i keep wondering why no one will let me go back. but i can feel that the body i'm in has lived twice as long as i've existed, and that's scary, because now what do i do? i woke up in a grown-up body one day and i don't know what to do with it. i can't live like that, i don't want to.

i hate headspace for stealing my joy and happiness away from me. i hate them for making me be this stupid fake acty grown-up with their dumb romance and their dumb violence and anger and adult problem things. it's stupid, and they stole all my imagination away from me so i could play their game.
I WANT IT BACK. I WANT MY OWN LIFE BACK AND I WANT TO BE HAPPY. GO AWAY.


nothing makes sense, this is so sad, maybe we will end up dead from this, would that be for the better?
what is there to live for now, when the things we used to live for are now holding us back in a sea of pain?
there is nothing to live for now but hope. and hope can be a curse, when you are hoping for nothing.

god i'm sorry for messing this life up so badly. i really am sorry. i love you and i tried so hard to be good but maybe i tried too hard
if we do die from this please don't make it hurt too bad. that's all i can ask for anymore. things hurt enough already, just let us leave this world in our sleep, have my boss come and get me or something, that'll be great. just please let this be over soon.

this was supposed to be a new age and a new life and i'm sure it is, but i messed up. and i'm sorry. i am really sorry.
please take the pain away if you can. but if you can't, then just please make it stop soon

 





041414

Apr. 14th, 2014 12:20 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

 


r.i.p. ventrium.

you died before you had lived
but your existence still meant enough.

i am so sorry i couldn’t say goodbye.

 



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 


@ 12:55 am

 

 

today was very, very, very painful. weirdly

woke up at 7am, less than 2 hours of sleep again.

early morning mass for palm sunday. really beautiful. cried a few times during the readings

dont remember anything else until 6pm????

sometime before that, post on lotusglitter about really bad triggers, glad i dont remember that

drove to get food with last bit of money. boss reassured me the whole time back

i remember stopping the car in the middle of the highway momentarily

next memory is parking lot, genesis showed up, "jay this has to stop."

got home and ate, unfortunately AP kicked in, all the ED voices got really messed up

emmett was out but was co-fronting with a faceless someone we dont know.

all the actual consuming ED voices talk the same way; very childish

purging attempts around 10pm, couldnt help it.

talked to the seaweed girl, she's anchoring very strongly now

HACK?????

i dont know when it was or how but THERE WAS A MASSIVE HACK

no details sherlock specifically said "don't look at it"

garrison told me that ventrium died as a result

it didnt hit me until a half hour later, talking to cz, i just started sobbing

the retributors actually broke the new 'rule' and tried to atone for this one

wreckage, razor, algorith, and the dead red boy all wrote things on the desk

i am very tired and sad.



life is getting stranger and creepier.
at least four times this week, i found myself in a car on the road, at least 20 minutes away from home, not knowing how i got there.
that is really frightening, to suddenly "come to" consciousness and be that far away for heaven knows what reason.
also at least twice ended up half-undressed and standing on the lawn inexplicably
self-care is abysmal, body triggers worse than ever, not sure what to do there.

we are out of money and food. ED voices tossed all food out of "prevention" measures, trying to help but really just making us lose all our cash. struggling with that in any case.

weird outbursts more prevalent. keep finding weird memory glimpses of other people fronting and its unsettling
at least one angry voice is violent to the point of actually trying to attack people, that scares me. we can hold them back for now but usually the result is a numb shutdown temporarily.
but there is often surprisingly the strength of mind to chase them out if we must, or at least leave the situation for a bit? tricky but we can at least do it now.

and there is hope, somehow, always hope
because despite the bad things spiking the good things didn't disappear?
synchronicity everywhere, intuition still works, people upstairs are SO clear, out of nowhere sometimes
yesterday i could practically see genesis walking in front of me, i've never been so absolutely trusting of that before
trust is a really important thing especially when you dont understand why things are happening

spiritual starvation is abating a bit but we are literally sobbing in empty churches now just to alleviate it
christina seems to be taking great strength from this and i think her anchor is shifting thank god
but holy week is always excruciating for me, stuck between "terrible sinner" and "overwhelming compassion" for seven solid days
easter last year was REALLY important
same with divine mercy sunday
crossing my fingers that it is even better this year, somehow.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

@ 10:04 pm

 

I'm sitting here reading the autobiography of my biggest inspiration in life and I want to cry, I am so moved and brokenhearted and stunned by these old words and yet that curse is hanging over my head, I haven't suffered enough to be happy yet.
Why is that? I read about people's victory stories, their beautiful true accounts of having been through hell and being better for it. Her childhood was a mess, but there was light in it nevertheless, and now she is a light to hundreds of people all over the world. So many others have experienced the same; I remember my mother always telling me how so many of her favorite movie stars had gone from rags to riches. And yet still others don't make it that far. Some people live through hell and die from it. Some kids commit suicide in elementary school because they just can't cope, although someone else may experience the same thing even earlier and survive like a champ. But I always held myself to that latter kid's example. Yes I've been through some painful and terrifying and mentally disturbing things. But others have survived worse. So I tell myself that I'm not allowed to have the happiness THEY'VE achieved because "I haven't paid the price yet." Who the heck puts a price on health and happiness? Yet I keep feeling that self-loathing burn away at me inside, nauseous at the thought of what I "should have" endured already, and "will have to" in order to DESERVE happiness. It's asinine. But there it is, holding people on those cursed pedestals, I want to tear every one of them down and BURN them. But I don't want that hate in me either. I don't want the rage and the violence. It's all rooted in sorrow, in crushing sobs, in self-hatred and desperation and the want to just be happy and feel I deserve it. I haven't been able to stay in that sort of mindset yet.

I can't reach headspace right now. I mean I'm sure I could; there is always this vague "just reach up and it's there" feeling where Laurie hangs out in Central and watches me for safety's sake, but I'm not taking the offer. I feel too sick and unworthy of that. She and everything she stands for are so terribly pure compared to me, to how filthy I tend to feel. I tend to not accept compassion or the expansive beauty of our inner world most days. It's dumb, and senseless, I know. But old habits are hard to break.
I know Genesis keeps wanting to stop by too, I can feel it almost tangibly at this point. But I actively tell myself "that's not real," "he's not real," "I don't want it," even when I secretly and desperately do want that beauty to be real, but I'm scared. I'm scared that if I say "yes" to that good thing, I'll be trapped? Like I'll have to act a role or play a part now that I'm being acknowledged as a person by them. More childhood programming. I just don't know how to let go of that one yet, as I don't know how to be a 'person' of my own yet, not without trying to live up to everyone else's vision of me in the process.
I want to live in headspace always but I am so terribly scared of some of the things in there, things that ONLY EXIST when I become a "person" that CAN interact with and perceive them, that I don't. I sacrifice friendship and wonder and imagination and joy in life, for the sake of not being ravaged every stupid time I accept those things. This paradox is the devil's playground and it makes me so miserable I'd rather die than live the rest of my days like this.

It hurts so much to type. I really cannot use this laptop anymore, this is excruciating. I'll have to make this short.

I'm still in tears reading this old stuff though. TRiPPY's work, if you haven't already guessed. That woman has been the single biggest creative light in my life. No one, ever, has had such a massive impact on me, not even Jena (whose inspiration was on more of a personal level, not as global).
I was caught off guard reading the old WTaHM stuff though; one sentence read, "before the Whiterealm was turned into a big pile of poisonous rust, it was incredible, snow, petals and beautifully illuminated by its 2 moons Bianca and Zuiverheid." And for whatever reason, that bit about the rust felt like I'd been gutted, I honestly started crying from shock and sick disbelief. Probably because I have always loved the White Realm in that world so much, but really, it felt personal. Surprising, but almost a relief, to feel something so strongly, after all this awful numbness.
Everything related to Engelbaum does that to me on some level though. The entire history and present-- and future, undoubtedly-- of that creative story, of that incredible world born within her life and dreams, has impacted me just as powerfully as Dream World has, in its own way. That is BIG! So you can understand why, reading about her own life, i am so strongly affected.
I feel so selfish and manipulative when I talk like that, like some sort of prissy seductive tart. Always cruel and spiteful and promiscuous. That is one of the scariest things in the world to me-- to not be able to ever talk about "myself," never using first person, never referring to the self OR the body, God forbid, because that is the feeling it is tied to. ALWAYS.

That is also where a lot of my personal mistranslation comes from, did you know? I didn't, not until yesterday. (there's the selfish sluttiness again)
I found an entire text file written BY Eros on the old hard drive, I thought it had been deleted, but there it was. All the stuff from February 2012, a pocket of time utterly alien to me. And I was trying to browse through it, it was all about healing past trauma and allowing the self to feel emotions and be happy and love people, et cetera... and I was so uncomfortable, i literally felt violated just reading it, Laurie actually made me stop because I was shaking and wanting to vomit after a few minutes. She asked me what the heck was going on, I tried to explain but THEN I realized that in one sentence, there it was-- Eros referred to himself as male. There it was, suddenly I wasn't so sickened. And that shocked me.
WHY is it that, whenever there is a Core in our System who is female, it elicits the most awful feelings? Like it feels utterly wrong and dirty and offensive-- NOT because they're a girl, but because of their motivations. Because of the aura around them. But it's still tied to their femaleness, and it makes NO SENSE, because if Lynne or Mulberry or Waldorf wrote things it would be fine... and then suddenly, I realized, it's not them, it's THE BODY. Whenever someone identifies with the body AS a female, suddenly everything they do becomes utterly perverted in an actively malicious way. Which is why I get scared when people slip with using pronouns for me, suddenly it feels like a condemnation, "nope you're fated to forever be this horrible sinful lustful violent thing, because I said so."
It makes no sense, saying it feels wrong, I don't even want to type it, I don't want it to be true. I want to stop typning


There's this creeping temperature chill in my stomach, cold and hot at the same time, and I feel like I'm maybe ten years old. Summer is coming and I'm inexplicably still terrified of the heat, although the thought of having spring rainshowers and bright green trees everywhere is the most ecstatic thought I've had in eons. The thought of it hit me today, and it was so surprising, I hadn't been aware that was something that could exist. Even now it's still an idealistic awareness but it can happen and that's amazingly surreal. I'd like to experience that, even if I have to break again to do it. I'm sick of being sick.
And yet I keep thinking I'm not sick enough to be healed yet. I hate this, so much, but can't see a different option from this low of a vantage point. I'd drag myself up to the top but it's a catch-22, you see... I "should" be down here. I "need to be."
I don't want to be. I don't care if that makes me the most horrid, slutty, wrong, sinful person on the planet. I don't want to have to live through violence and rape and fear and constant torment anymore. I'm sick of being punished for every action I take because "if it's carnal, it's already a sin!" I don't care... and yet I do, too much. I'm becoming dangerously apathetic just to survive, but it never lasts. I always end up drowning in moral paranoia and sobbing my eyes out because I feel I deserve it; seriously if Jesus himself hung on a cross why the HECK do YOU expect any sort of relief??
I'm getting ill from this, arms screaming already, I want to just sell my computers already rather than deal with the pain.

 

I've been hearing voices since I was a kid and they've just been getting louder as I get older. They attack me sometimes, cause me physical pain. It's horrible, it's no way to live. I can't even eat without them screaming at me to "stop being a slutbag" and attacking me so that I get physically ill when I try. That's still a dirty word, too: "eat." Filthy and wrong. I don't even have breakfast until after 5PM now and even then I'm throwing up half of it, typically from a sort of instinctive purgative fear, "get the weight out of my stomach." It's physically frightening, that weight. I'm never hungry, I literally don't ever get hungry, I don't need to eat anyway, right? But my body still gets sick and weak and dizzy and paralyzed when I stop. So I force something down, usually just raw vegetables, but even a paltry piece of lettuce gets those voices shouting. "Stop eating, you whore, before i f*cking kill you!!"
I wonder how many of our old headvoices have their roots in that mire. It's scary. I'm so glad they've grown into their own people now though.
We need a term that's not "headvoice" too. I don't want the word "voice" tied to the good people. I can understand and trust them even when they don't talk, and when they're around, the bad voices run in fear. So the System people need a better collective term, now that it's not 2008 and I now know they're not the bad ones.
I feel so sorry for Cannon. No wonder she fell. She went through a lot of awful stuff, it looks like. I don't have her memory, but she wrote a lot of what's in these archives. The gaps are frightening, not having any recollection of most of the life, but maybe that's for the best, if the memory would be scarier? I don't know. It's just sad, to be reading autobiographies of how people got this far, and I don't even remember what summer looks like.

I was so religiously sheltered as a kid, that's all I know. We lived up in the hills, no neighbors, not allowed to leave the front yard without getting in trouble-- which I did, on the times I would go explore the forest by myself. There was always this profound sense of aloneness, deep under the surface, despite the family bustle. Maybe it's only visible in memory. I don't know.
Dream World kept me sane once I was about 11 years old. I don't remember anything at all prior.
I met Genesis when I was 15 and that was one of the most amazing things to EVER happen to me, to suddenly have a friend that walked with me and talked with me and wasn't only reachable in my head. He was THERE, he got me through high school, he was how I survived college, he made my job bearable. The reality of his existence being so tangible alongside mine was the first time I ever felt alive, the first time I ever felt like I was a part of the physical world, and that I could enjoy it. I needed him to be before I could be, as well.
But that's all snapshots and bittersweet secondhand memory. Now, I tend to avoid him. It breaks my heart even now. I love him, he's my best friend ever, but I'm so scared of myself that I don't associate with him. And yet every time i leave the house, he's sitting in the front seat of the car, and I'll talk to him, even if it's only for a minute or so before I start to unhinge. I don't want that.
This feels like 2009-2010 creeping back up on me, God I don't want to ever live that again, please.



That hack last night dragged out some of the worst things in here.
I'm so scared. I thought it was healed. I thought Infi had fixed this. And yet ze did, the healing work is done, it's just that the old stuff is still here too, down in the mires and chthonic pits.
Wreckage has gold bones. They are literally made out of gold. For some reason, gold in headspace is the strongest material against the Tar, it's amazing to see she's literally made of it on some level.
I remember Eros was almost the Gold holder when he came to be, but he shifted to red, maybe that was his downfall, the slot was still corrupted back then too. Kind of funny how Wreckage holds the job better though, different way. Both tried to prevent this abuse from happening again. He just got dragged so far into it he couldn't tell what was abuse anymore. She doesn't take chances at all.
I stil do I guess. I have the same awful hope he did, the same hope every Core has, and still does, and maybe always will. We hope too much, we love life too much, even if it's a living nightmare, we keep trying even if we keep bleeding for it.
But there's a really fine line there and we seem unable to see it. There is a fine line between hope, and self-annihilation, and I think we're on the wrong side.

I want to die so badly, i keep looking for suicidal options day after day after day, all i want is relief for God's sake, I want to go through ONE DAY without the constant evil chatter in my head and the screaming body pain and the hacks hanging over me like she did once. I want to vomit just typing that, it's so sick, how the HECK do other people survive abuse without scars, i don't know, i don't understand i am so sorry i wasnt that strong then.

it hasn't stopped though, last night was proof, SHE was out, the body one, SHE is alive and she killed him and all the blood went to me and i want to die, i want to die rather than risk that happening again, i want to cut this body to shreds so that the reflection no longer looks like HER


I really really want to cry, I'm not sad about Ventrium anymore, I saw his corpse today and I was just too empty, I didn't know who he had once been anymore. He never had the opportunity to become anyway, but still it's sad, to see a life snuffed out before it had a chance to begin
god thats what the graves were about werent they? why don't i feel anything from them, i guess that was cannon's personal hell

then what is mine? are these voices mine, this unending siege of devils?
i would rather bleed, god give me the retributors angry passion again, let algorith and wreckage and razor tear me to shreds, i will be so grateful for it
scars are such a relief, isn't taht sad? the blood, the scars, are a blessed RELIEF from the other kind of pain i suffer otherwise.

i thought the hacks were done
someone thought they were done in 2010, then cannon died
someone thought they were done in 2011, then eros died
someone thought they were done in 2012, then j died
someone thought they were done in 2013, then everything shattered to pieces and even though infi survived, and i came back, and all the lower levels were dragged up from the dirt, this hell still hasn't stopped and god i want it to stop, please. what do we do/.

i want a job so we can buy food but i have panic attacks when i leave the house, i don't trust myself to drive anymore, the dissociation is worse than ever, thevoices dont go away i want them to LEAVE
i want to live in joy and love and abundance but smething is keeping me chained to this dungeon? why do i feel i have to be here.
i don't have to be here.
immediately the voices (far away) say "yes you do, you must suffer for your sins,"
infi steps up
"no he doesn't"
mumbles of protest and 'blasphemy' but there's a real light of hope now, all of a sudden

maybe this IS hell. mabe with whatever's going on in the world, i've gotta live through that now
hey you know how deviolei ascend into angelorei, haha now there's a big shot of inspiration
dream world is great. there's no gap. engelbaum is great too, that's true hope and motivation

i dont want to be in hell anymore but i think i'm stuck here by my own hand in some way?
a quote i found earlier:
“Wickedness makes a bad use not only of evil, but also of good.
In the same way, holiness makes a good use not only of good, but also of evil.”

St. Augustine right there. i know he was a big inspiration to one of our older ones too, for a time.
nevertheless that is very good advice so let's make sure we follow it well

now i am in a lot of pain and i am very tired and therapy is tomorrow so i will see you later, good night.
and i really mean that, "good night," let's keep the stars in mind and make it one.

the moon will be blood red tonight and if i can take a page from the retributors,
let's look at it as a celestial absolution from whatever spiritual poison has choked us
javier's red now, he's the true meaning of that color, compassionate and strong
blood is not evil, it is life, it is beautiful too
and the moon reflects light back to us, real living light, even when the source is invisible, even when it's pitch black.

so tonight let's paint the night red and let's celebrate,
this is bravery and hope shining down in the night,
and the sun is going to come up in the morning.

 


 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (czj)


So. Today was proof that, when I am in a trauma-reminiscent situation OR when I am dissociating to prevent further trauma, my brain does not store memories at ALL, even when I actively try to focus on the situation. Nothing doing. Once it's over, I can look back all I want, there is not going to be anything there to look back on.
As for why I'm bringing that up, it's more emphasis on why I have "relationship problems" with anyone who isn't mostly platonic, so to speak. I have a very hard time "remembering" Infinitii and CZ as of late, even when I'm perfectly happy, because if someone starts acting "romantic" or similarly-- i.e. in a way that would be out of place in a more casual context-- immediately, that memory-failure starts up. It's that generalized now. That worries me.
I'm more healed now than I have ever been, I am free of so many of those old pains, entirely... so why this?
Strangely, I'm mostly okay with Genesis recently, even in the exact same situations, because he's infamously exuberant and when you have that much energy overflow it is actually difficult to level out enough to hit the "late night" sort of mindset CZ has when we're together, that sort of silent intimacy. Gen doesn't do that, ever, and he never did. Yes, he can get close, but it never quite loses that golden "buzz" of his. So I'll get some memories when I'm with him, even if he's feeling more amorous than usual, because, again, he doesn't ever act like a "lover." And, again, CZ and Infi do. Infi less so, oddly, as ze has a subtle sort of "total openness" to hir where, no matter how close you are to hir, you know that you're not the only one ze wants to be with and you never will be the only one. Infinitii's heart is wide open to anyone who wants to walk in, at any time. CZ is more focused, in an almost traditional way: he finds one person, first and foremost, to love with total ardor, but when he wants to love other people as well they will never measure up entirely to that one. Does that make sense? And Genesis is like Infi but casual; he just "dates" everyone but he's never heavy or serious, and he never settles down... whereas Infi wants to live with everyone, and CZ wants to live with one person.

 

Sorry. This is awkward to talk about. But I have to write it down for my own records if nothing else, because otherwise I will either shove it under the rug or deny it. Gotta be honest.
So. This is the same old thing I remember mentioning way back when... and probably a million times over since then, you ever realize how I literally write the same entries over and over again, essentially? You find someone who's badly dissociative enough and you will literally repeat the same conversation with them, multiple times, and they will not realize it. That's me. I've been called out on that by family and friends, I've noticed it in my own work-- I go in circles because I learn something, forget it, learn it again, forget it again, et cetera... it's frightening sometimes, it really is. But I think I end up revisiting this points so many times because I need to, in one way or another. So let that be some sort of reassurance.

I just... I keep looking back on 2012, and 2011, and how "I" acted around him back then... fearlessly open, almost embarrassingly so, with all this romantic and playful and "over the top" dialogue... the same sort of behavior I later labeled as the "Jacob thing" because I was too internally disheveled to realize that love can act that way, why the hell would the context distort the core, it doesn't, but I was so terribly shaken-up by seeing my own past behavior mirrored in others that I shut right down.
I don't understand how I could act like that. Same with Jewel, the older one, back from 2003 to 2008 or so. How in the world were they not constantly ashamed to act so theatrically? Was that honest? How? I cannot fathom how someone can act like a romance novel or piece of poetry or song lyric, and still be honest about it. It feels so utterly fake and manipulative and shallow to me. Why?
I know CZ acts like that at times, he gets carried away like a river, we all know how emotional he is as a person. I know Rio was like that as a young teenager, to an extent. I know Genesis jumps right in too, when he's driven to the edge, when he lacks any other way to say what he needs to. And apparently, I've been guilty of the same. But... I can't fathom it. If I acted that way, it would be so completely false... it would be completely artificial, it would be a mockery of love.
But I still end up in poet mode, sometimes, and then I mean every word. And yet when I look back on those words I'm humiliated. God knows why though. I don't know why I still feel like those things, like those thoughts, are so shameful.

Laurie is spotless. Still, somehow, even after the kintsugi incident. I think that shook her up too. But she's held on to her graciously vicious edge, as I prayed she would, even when she acts in a way that brutality cannot possibly bleed over into.
I'm just genuinely distressed over this whole thing. Yes, Laurie has kissed me, but it's never been romantic, not like with CZ, not like with Genesis. And I love that. That's what I WANT in relationships, is that total platonic ardent affection, untainted by the label or mindset of a "relationship" or a "couple" or any of those words that leave bitter blackened tastes in my mouth. There's nothing wrong with them, but they are not for me, they make me dizzy and disoriented. I lose my coherence, I lose my sincerity, my genuine expression, when I find myself trapped in that sort of box.
This morning I was with Infi and CZ and Genesis and then when I thought about being with Laurie I burst into tears, it felt so wrong to even consider something of the sort, and yet I loved her just as much as I loved those other three.
But I couldn't remember a moment of being with Infi. I only remembered a few fractured, fleeting impressions of CZ. I can see Genesis' face clearly, in the sunrise light, glinting off the gems in his headdress. And I knew that if I had been with Laurie and it wasn't business I would forget her completely. That terrified me. She's uncorrupted by this, she doesn't want this either, nor do I, not like this, why am I so confused.
She kissed Knife's forehead yesterday and despite the total chaste affection I know those two are only capable of feeling, I was secretly terrified, because for an instant I feared she would suddenly mirror all those things that still dig up ugly corroded insects from below my ribcage. There's all this horrible sobbing-heavy angry static, this sharp frantic black burn, stuck right in the place where they tore Infinitii out of me one year ago tomorrow. It's terrible. It's heartbreakingly agonizing, and what do I do?
Some part of me is still afraid. The children still cry at the slightest triggers. Jeremiah is slowly going over the deep end like I did once and that frightens me too, I can see in both him and Javier the pained rage that preceded the self-abuse. We kept wondering why it took so long for Sugar to move anchors, that's because that job was still needed and only once Wreckage appeared was she able to soften. Would you believe I keep forgetting about the chthonic voices? They stay down so deep, that I cannot feel them at all. They are buried, beyond perception, just like the things they hold, just as the previous cores had subconsciously wanted. Bury all the pain. Except they failed to realize that without some sort of drainage system-- without the later Retributors-- that awful black tar was going to fester, and take root, and grow.
But Infi's been healing it, turning the mold spores into flowers. I can see the truth of things now. So why does everything feel irrelevant? Why is such a huge part of me so cold and apathetic when personal love becomes the topic? Why am I still tangled up like this?

I love CZ, I love Infinitii, I love Genesis. I truly do. But I cannot do this relationship thing anymore. Not like that.
I'm not turning tail and walking out the door, I know I used to do that at some point, I would never do that. I can't, not as long as I'm aware of the love that remains. I can't leave them. But I can't stay either, not if staying is just going to exacerbate this damage, and keep tearing this old wound back open. It has to heal correctly, I know, but how???

Circles, we're going in circles... I'm practically tearing my hair out here, as well as my heart. What do I do.
I already told the therapist we're effectively on suicide watch, what with this dangerous apathy and the creeping cellar-deep fears and everything else I still don't understand and might not be able to.
I can't consume anything without being slammed by guilt and fear and deep shame and self-loathing. I can't accept anything either, even as a gift, without hiding it from myself. Material things like money, artwork, clothing, etc., all end up hidden or given away or sold, because I'm "afraid of what I will do with it" if it stays in my possession. I effectively destroy entire paychecks because I don't trust myself with abundance. Why? What am I so afraid that I will do? And I can't seem to accept love either, from anyone, for the same reason... is that the root of this? "Don't give that boy anything, or he will destroy it?" When did that become my subconscious belief? WHEN in the world did I somehow become convinced that anything, once placed in my hands, would immediately end up on a fast track to doomsday? Give something to me, anything, and I will be terrified of ruining it. It's become a self-fulfilling prophecy actually. I feel so unworthy of things that if I don't outright give them away I will destroy them instead of owning them. Why??
They say that, if you think a person is "dirty" after you've touched them, maybe you should look at your hands.
I never did that. I didn't have the luxury of thinking that way. I was haunted by that stupid thought of a "secret filthiness" in me that earned such treatment from others. Maybe their hands were filthy, to make me feel so permanently corroded. But I somehow believed that I had put the dirt on their hands first.
I don't know what I'm talking about.

This morning hurt. This morning hurt so badly.
It was like the Julie days, when I'd wake up hyperventilating on the bathroom floor, or wake up literally from a dream hack, and all I'd know was that someone had violated me and my entire body was in excruciating pain. I couldn't even fathom it as a child, hence the dissociation. But it got worse as I grew older, and now, to suddenly be experiencing the same terrible hurt-- without explanation!!-- when I'm with these people that love me, I just can't... I can't do this.
I believe that everyone else in the world is pure and true and right and holy, even when they harm me. I might be terrified, I might not understand, but I will ALWAYS give them the benefit of the doubt. "This is God's will." "I deserve this somehow." "They are only trying to do the right thing." "I will be a better person for enduring this." You get the picture. It causes me daily turmoil, even now, because I still tend to look to everyone else for guidance and answers, and when I get fifty different answers from fifty different people-- all who swear that their answer is the right one, and it HAS worked for them, perfectly so-- I feel like I'm losing my mind. If they're ALL correct, then who the hell do I follow?? So I try to make everybody happy at once and I crash and burn. Yes, I still do this. Hence the current eating disorder resurgence. One person says, "eat this food," another says "DON'T eat that food," someone else says "don't eat at ALL," and so it goes. I have entire printed lists of these arbitrary guidelines in my kitchen, and I'm frustrated to tears sometimes because, with how many sources that swear they are true, everything is now right and wrong at once. The eating disorder is a MORAL ISSUE.
So is the sexual abuse issue. Obviously. And that's why I'm still in hell over it, even with Infinitii having healed a lot of the direct cancerous trauma. Infi still sees that sexuality can be used in a holy way. But I still have too many scars from the opposite usage. And of course, I still don't like OR want sex, in any respect... buuuut most of my "sources" keep telling me, "you NEED to have/ want/ etc. it" and that gets me so damn scared and angry and sad that I end up collapsing into crisis hotlines and x-acto blades, and ironically THAT will be my salvation, because if I don't hit that suicidal extreme, I'll hit the other one. I'll tell myself it's "God's will" all over again, and I will dissociate beyond all hope, and I will force myself to do whatever they tell me to.
I can't remember the last time I did that though. I hope it was a very long time ago. But I wouldn't know.
I wish it was never.

It's hell. I don't know how in the world this entry became so discombobulated. I'm sorry.
Sometimes I start writing an entry, and then that fails, and something else happens. I was supposed to exercise tonight, but the thought of therapy tomorrow and another phone call to case management and Infinitii's birthday and having to eat again and not wanting to wake up in the first place... it all just crept up I guess, and this happened.

I want to be happy all the time. I'm trying. Even when I'm upset I get out the Dream World folders and I try to read through the original chapters, as they never fail to make me smile and laugh with joy, but... then headspace gets unplugged.
I know everyone upstairs wants to be part of the League. They're all tired of feeling inherently disconnected and separate from that joy and life and creativity. They were born when my imagination hit a dead end with blond pigtails. So there's been a split for a long time, surpassed only in small bleedover ways, that confused me more than anything and ultimately-- I am so sorry to say-- caused me more anguish than anything else. When the hacks started to use them... that is one of the only thoughts in the world that can make me feel something close to blind hatred. That terrifies me. But it makes sense. To take these beautiful, innocent individuals, the very manifestation of love and bliss and hope in my life, and try to corrupt them in the same way you broke me?? Don't you DARE.
But she tried. They all tried. They knew that was the one way they could kill me even when everything else failed. In some ways I fear they may have succeeded, but I refuse to believe that. I refuse. I will build this back up from the ground, from dust and ashes, somehow... if I only had the strength left in me.
Every time I realize that in his insane suicide attempt, J destroyed over 15 years of League work for the sake of headspace... it makes me want to vomit. Literally, it makes me so wretchedly sad that I get physically nauseous. I lost most of my life because of this trauma. I don't know what to do.
I'm disturbed though. I'm starting to sound like Jessica. "You ruined my life." Is this bleedover? I never even touched the League Worlds, not as Jay, not me, I know about them but my anchors are elsewhere... there's this horrible internal war I can't seem to win.
Some part of my core is tied to those other worlds, even as a headvoice, and it drags me completely out of sync sometimes. Where do I belong? Where does the true allegiance of my heart lie? With them, in perpetual childhood grace and innocence and wonder... or with them, the aftermath of the fruit of knowledge, the adult life of different love and victory through struggle?
It breaks my heart in two because I am literally split so drastically and I cannot choose. I'm all or nothing, with both. I fracture just so I can live.
I don't know what my actual name is most days because EVERYONE slips up, I'm BOTH Jay and Jewel to everyone you ask, even in headspace, the names interchange without people even realizing it. I am inherently both, always, as long as I am a core of this soul.
And honestly I keep inching closer and closer to the original side, to the iridescent world of dreams, where trauma doesn't exist and I don't exist and there is nothing but blissful observance of countless shimmering lives and stories. But that damned curse of adulthood has infected even their story, all that intellectual analytic bullshit that happens when you stop channeling and start trying to write. There's a fine line between "figuring things out" and "finding things out," and I only work with the latter. Headspace does the former. I can't stand it anymore.

This all boils down to not wanting to exist as a person, and not wanting to deal with that awful red fruit in the Garden of Eden, which I was so terrified to take but did anyway because God forbid I reject someone else's good intentions in doing so.
But Preludove was sitting beside me the whole time and she never ate the damn thing and God help me maybe that's why I keep vomiting. I don't want to see things in black and white anymore. I don't want to grow up. I don't want my daemon to settle. I don't want to go to China. I want to stay as kaleidoscopic as I feel, without having to settle on one face and one voice and one body, without having to settle down with anyone... I don't want this damned fruit, take it back, God forgive me but I am so sorry, I'd take it for love's sake but it's the wrong sort of love and I can't. Not if that's what it means.
It's not worth getting thrown out of here. Not after what I've seen on those streets.

...Yeah I really owe you guys that His Dark Materials entry. But I cannot think about those things right now, not without sobbing like an idiot from how deeply my soul is split in two.

I grew up too fast, on some level.
I never believed that though. My family told me I "never grew up" in the sense of "you're still an annoying, foolish child." One friend told me how she grew up too fast and I didn't dare look at my own troubles again after hearing that.
But... was it relevant? Was it real? I don't want it to be. I was old enough, I was 12, I was 13, that's old enough, right? That's when children are supposed to start growing up, especially in that way, in that godforsaken way.
Yet my therapists point at earlier dates for "trauma" I accepted as normal life, at the psychological bullying when I was in elementary school, at being beaten by my caretakers, at almost being locked in the coal cellar as punishment. I shrug at it now, "that doesn't affect me." Maybe it doesn't, but at that time, did it leave scratches, if not scars? Did some roots take hold then that only worsened the Julie days?
Hell, would we even have HAD the Julie days IF that second-grade-terror of "God won't forgive you unless you beg" and " didn't linger so strongly that it painted the sixth-grade-terror in awful hues I never would have known about otherwise.
"You know you want this." No, I knew I should want that. And I hated myself for it, I hated myself, because I didn't want it and I STILL don't but everything is so damn confusing when you're grown up and how is this body already 24?? I still feel so small. I don't know.

This entry is a downright mess. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Consider this a brainspill, please accept my apologies, I'm going to be absolutely mortified about this tomorrow but again, I need to be honest. If Laurie finds out this was written and then deleted she will not be happy, to say the least.
Saying her name is like another anchor-tug in my heart in the opposite direction and I'm really tired.
There's headspace, over there. The Leagueworlds are over there. And I'm standing in the middle, right in the mire of the Downstairs, in the flat empty hollowed-out world that the body lives in, where dreams fade to fog and love feels like sawdust, no matter what color its painted. I don't like it here. But I don't know which direction to walk in. I don't want to choose. God I love them both, when you really get down to it I love them BOTH, even if those mindsets and memories are completely detached from each other yet. When I'm watching the League worlds, I love them with my entire heart. When I'm inside headspace, I love them with my entire heart. It doesn't change, ever... or at least not until I switch focus. Then it's all or nothing again. Always.
What kind of moral quandary is this. What's the damn root of all this. WHY is there a split? WHY can't the two universes meet? Why can't they BOTH be happy?
Is something in the middle, some big obstacle, keeping them apart? Maybe. This sure feels like it.

It feels like the answer I so desperately need is hovering about, almost intangible, but it's catching the light here and there so I can see it, just a shimmer. I can't catch it yet. But I'm at least a little comforted knowing that, by simple virtue of a "problem" existing here and now, its solution also exists to balance it.
This is relevant. This is relevant too. So is this...

Therapy is tomorrow.
Infinitii Eternos turns one year old in the System tomorrow, I want to write about hir but I literally cannot remember who ze is right now. Not directly. I can sift through the archive data but I'm so tired right now. I'd rather wait until therapy forces me to be sincere, then I'll have those memories in my own heart, not on pieces of paper.


It's so weird.
I used to have these times where I'd be completely shut off, you know? Just these endless wastelands of dry ice, unfeeling and devoid of life. I'd get like that for days, for weeks... I don't know what it's like to be that way. I'm thankful at least for that.
But the point is... even now, even now, after having rejected that damn fruit, Preludove is nudging me in the ribs and saying, "go ahead, it won't hurt," and damn it how do you know, it'll hurt enough if it means I have to leave you behind, you're my soul, you're everything to me... but so is he, so is he and so are they and she's just smiling at me, and then I remember that just because Lyra forgot how to read the alethiometer didn't mean she could never learn it again. In fact, after losing it, she regained that gift even stronger and more completely than before. Isn't that the point, she says, all white feathers and blue fur, with eyes as warm and brown as the sunlight in June? "Isn't that kinda the point?" And she just grins, waiting for me to turn around again, to face the blue creature that never thought he'd speak to her, or to me, for the record, and yet there he was as well, the snake and the savior both, the beginning and the end in his own right. And there's red in his hands and red in his heart and his eyes are the color of the garden and damn it I never stopped loving you I just don't know how to reconcile this.
"What is there to reconcile," Preludove says, still casually eating that canonical sandwich like she did in JMUA, and the similarity strikes at my heart. "I don't see any problem with you loving him as well as me."
But realize what it means, dear, I practically beg of her, tears in my eyes. That's a jump from one life into another. I don't know how to bridge the gap.
"What gap?" she laughs, and in a dizzying moment I'm reminded of Mr. Sandman and Dream Portals and D4 and every other blessed thing that saw the gap and laughed as well as they danced across it, back and forth, weaving rainbow threads of light right across that abyss, building a bridge from one kind of love to the other, because there really is no distinction when you boil it down, is there?
"...What's left, when you mix fire and water?"
And I turn, and he has spoken, and he's not looking at me. He's looking down at the grass and the river and his eyes look like they're about to overflow and my heart feels the same. I know what he means.
"Not what's left," Preludove smirks, "...what's created?"
She raises a hand, around which a small lavender cloud appears.
"Energy just shifts is all," she says, looking at that tiny violet shape. "Turns from one thing into another. But you never lose anything really. You just see things change." Our eyes meet once more. "That's kind of what's happening here."
With what, I ask. But no one responds, and I realize on my own.
"Like I said," Preludove repeats, as the cloud fades into mist in the air, "there's no gap. Not between us, not between our worlds. Not really, anyway. Sure distance is weird, and time is weird, and love is weird, I would know."
I nearly laugh at that, before it hits me.
"Yeah," she says, and now her voice is tight, like a violin string, like glass before it breaks into rainbows. "Vez. Your buddy, right? And my boyfriend. I love him a lot. Just like you love him," she says, and nods towards the other creature beside me. They exchange a knowing look. "And I know how difficult it is for him, sometimes, to love me, or to even acknowledge that he loves someone else..." Preludove stops, swallows hard, eyes wet. "I know how hard he struggles with pain, even against his own heart. I know how afraid he is," she whispers, "because he's been so hurt. Just like you. But he never stopped loving people, even when they didn't seem to make sense in his head either, because love doesn't die or go away either. Am I making any sense?"
I smile, suddenly, with genuine affection and gratitude. "Yeah. More in feelings than words though."
And then, at the same time, they both exclaim--
"You spoke!!"
Preludove is laughing. He is too. For a moment it felt like there was never a gap to begin with. Maybe there isn't. Maybe that's the point.
I thought about the cloud and suddenly it hit me.
That is the point.

I turned around and kissed him and everything was as red as the joy in our hearts.




“In fifteen years I want you to write me a list of every feeling you found after emptiness,
every moment you cried just with being alive,
every hand you held that felt like home.
Tell me how you stitched together the void
without the aid of needles and scissors
but the thread of melodies your best friend hummed
walking home on the last day of sun, poems
you read for no one but felt beat in your heart
until they found the ears of someone
who would hold them and whisper these promises
in the dead of night from their lips to your wrists.
In fifteen years,
show me the atlas of your scars.
Do not let the universe escape you,
vessel of the stars.”

 



 

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


@ 09:51 am

 

 

Things I realized last night:

● If you spend 3+ hours writing an entry, you WILL find the answer by the end of it because your thought processes evolve in real-time.
● Even if you find the answer you need, it takes time to anchor so don't be surprised if Laurie still wants to re-discuss everything the next morning! She has the right idea.
● Poet mode and Xanga conclusions and all that pretty language actually doesn't translate well to text. CZ was talking to me like that last night, and I suddenly realized that if I transcribed it and read it back, it wouldn't sound anywhere NEAR as sincere as it did at the moment. And I realized why-- in text, all you have to go by is the written word. When spoken, there's the emotion and the intention and the non-verbal language (CZ doesn't even use words half the time he speaks) behind it that makes it real, and completely genuine, even if it might not seem so in hindsight. It's a projected bias is all, based on fear and unfortunate physical experiences. But everything here is 100% honest as it's being said, no matter how it's perceived later, and that's one truth up here that I can't forget. These entries, these conversations, none of it is planned. It all happens as it happens, so I have to stop thinking it's "scripted" because honestly, if I tried handing out a script I know full well that it would get tossed to the side just as quickly.
● Dream Guardians still get summoned all over the creation. A Portal actually opened up for Preludove once our conversation had ended, I was already "ghosting" by that time so it wasn't too clear but it was unmistakable! Apparently being both my BFF and the Guardian of Peace practically requires that she show up to help when she's able and allowed to, such as last night. My head is still spinning looking at that though; has anything like that happened before? Not since the early 2000s, at least... that's exciting. There's a lot of hope there.
● Minty cares more than I give her credit for! She checked on me before I fell asleep, asking me if I needed any "extra bears" tomorrow, for protection or hope or anything. I said I should be okay now, but I really appreciated her concern, especially because it never quite hit me just how much she obviously cared until right then. The kid checks on me almost every night! So she gets her due.
● I think too much sometimes and I drown myself in it. Even if my concerns are valid, if I'm only focusing on the rising waters and not on getting air, then I'm in trouble. That's what I've been doing, just suffocating myself under more and more tons of old weight, and forgetting that there's still a way out of it, right over my head too, and there are a lot of people up there just waiting to pull me out if I won't, or can't, do so myself. Bottom line, I'm really thankful that absolute catastrophe of an entry happened, but focusing on only the pain is going to only bring painful conclusions, that's obvious, it's like putting blinders on.
Out of darkness cometh light. Every single "negative" entry I've ever written has somehow bloomed into something brighter in the end. Every stab of pain I've felt has ultimately been healed and comforted tenfold or more. Every scar carries with it the reality of hope. And every shadow simply means that there's a light shining somewhere behind it.
Today is Infinitii Eternos' first 'birthday' in the System and I am infinitely grateful that ze is with us, not in spite of the tumultuous changes and often-terrifying shifts ze's heralded by hir very existence, but because of them. Hindsight might be flawed as hell when you're only looking, but when you suddenly see, well... things get a lot brighter no matter how much black paint is in front of you, so to speak. That's what Infi reminds me of, always. So let's all keep that in mind today.

Now we're off to therapy, see you later!

 



 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

 

Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to update.
I'm listening to some binaural beats right now to calm me down; the body's been unsettlingly off-kilter for the past week or two and already I'm feeling massive calmness from this (thanks theta waves, haha). So if I fall asleep while typing this up you will have to forgive me.

Anyway. First things first. I last updated here on the 10th, and I remember little concrete events since then, so let me just do a stream-of-consciousness list for whatever comes to mind.

Last Tuesday, I tried to update here, but failed due to stress overload. All I recorded was, "some thermophobic kid was out today-- TERRIFIED of heat." This is true; for some reason, the temperature was around 60 degrees Fahrenheit that day, and the moment it registered there was a full-out, hysteric panic attack.
When we got home the fear subsided entirely, which was bizarre. Also odd was the fact that, at that same time, I realized that I have no memories of what summer is like. None! I have the vague factual awareness that the trees and grass will get green and dark and the birds will be singing and flowers will be blooming, and it will be warm. But that's literally a snapshot data piece. All the "summer memories" of the past are rather buried, and feel negative. That's probably where this scared kid gets it. But that's new, and weird, because I literally have never seen summer and so I'm curious. Jewel says it's great, so I trust her. She loves summer, I love winter. It works out!
Also on Tuesday, there was an important note saying there was an overpowering feeling of sorrow, and being furiously frustrated over feeling "unable to express it," effectively driving that person to tears from the lack of catharsis. "That person" feels like Overload, and probably was (she deals with those sorts of sensations). Regardless that feeling has persisted on and off until today, and we're all working together sincerely to try and heal that, as it is obviously the main thing making us sick! Everything has internal roots so we are in the ideal position to fix those things, haha.

Last Thursday was Xenophon's 3rd birthday! Unfortunately my memory is shot so I remember little of it, but I can tell you this-- we made her extremely purple kale soup (purple kale, purple carrots, purple shallots, also tons of parsley) as it's her favorite food, she followed me around driving for the day, and I know we did something else but it's escaping me right now. Nevertheless I've been spending time with her whenever she wishes to, and when I'm mentally able.

On that note, we've taken to doing our nightly indoor walks again, with the old iPod on, as they are perfect for everyone just getting together and talking, or simply meditating when headspace isn't busy, or not accessible. They help a lot in terms of stability, too, as they're our only real "safe quiet time" during the day. However I mention them here because there are small but notable connections and interactions within the System every night we are tuned into those walks, so even if I can't "summarize" them here I can say with certainty that those little honest times are helping foster more community between us all. I think this sort of thing started in December, notably with this lovely night, and that was so significant to us all that we try to have similar times whenever possible now. In short the little things matter most.

I took out His Dark Materials from the library on Tuesday, so I will likely spend tomorrow writing down all the bookmarked passages I have for it, and then constructing a relevant entry around those IF needed. You know how quickly things change up here; what is still applicable will be discussed, what is not will not be. Nevertheless the experiences of reading the book need to be written down so an entry will happen either way.

I am currently playing this song on loop with the pitch dropped by 5 semitones, and it is great. I'm currently going through my mother's entire music library (so many CDs) and I stumbled across that one, so there you go. We're saving up for a new iPod as Razia is pretty shot at this point, but he still plays music! He's survived so much since 2010 (cross-country trips, being lost outside for several months, etc.) that I honestly have to applaud his hardiness. He's a tough little thing.

That creepy "clawteeth" voice from the 4th found her name: it's Wreckage. When feeling for it I kept getting the impression of "shambles," "ruins," etc. as well as a visual of destroyed buildings and scattered bones, but no letters. Then a day or two later I hit on the letter "w" which was weird as the sound I was getting was "r," like in the word "wrath" or "wreak." So I was fumbling about those two words until she essentially walked up to me during one of those times and said her name was Wreckage. Her color is also confirmed gold.
She reminds me vaguely of Spine in that she's powerful and gangly-thin, with an elongated head, but that's about it? Really she looks like she stepped out of the OFF game. I can't quite see her eyes yet, but she has this huge thin clawed fingers, as well as a mouth full of thin, sharp protruding teeth (hence her initial 'nickname'). She doesn't have a tail and I can't tell if she has horns on her head or not; there's something in the back I think but again, she's vague. She has thin sand-colored skin that looks like bleached leather stretched thin over her skeleton, hard to explain... she's wiry but it's like a compressed spring in that sense. She's all taut muscles and tightly bound power, wrapped around a skeletal frame. But, despite looking like she crawled out of a nightmare, she is a very benevolently-motivated individual (obviously as she's a Retributor). She's just like Laurie was at first: "I have an important job to do, and if you hinder me, I will show you no mercy."

Sylvain's brother is named Simeon. He's the little vanilla-colored boy that updates online whenever there's bad fronting fallout and we need someone to hold things together while we recuperate. That name had strong attachments to the color ages ago, and he said it fit when I asked him earlier this week. He's nowhere near as depressive as his brother could get, but no one yet understands the relationship between them both. Were they two halves of one entity? Did Sylvain "reset" after the massacre, or did his identity start "shifting" after the unwritten events of this day (in which he fronted and was terrified, surrounded by negative voices)? What exactly went on there? We have no answers yet but digging for them feels counterproductive, like we're trying too hard. So we'll just let that be for now, and be grateful for this kid in any case; he's a sweetheart.

I also haven't told you guys how flat-out awesome Minty is! She's actually been checking on me every night now for a few weeks now, before I go see my boss and then collapse into my room in headspace. We sleep holding a white Care Bear plush downstairs, since Minty issues plush bears specifically as "messengers" to protect or guard people when she can't-- almost like little fluffy angels. They have no will of their own, existing for that purpose of guarding others, and are effectively minor mental extensions of "the bear" more than anything. He still has no name either, but he's looking for it-- it starts with a "Br" and we think it has two syllables, that's all we can catch right now though. However he qualifies as a Protector, not a Retributor, and Minty is his 'apprentice' in that respect. She's really good at it, which now that I think about it, is likely because she's energetic and small and can run about other levels of headspace, whereas I have never seen The Bear leave the Underground. He sticks to the shadows and catacombs, staying away even from the windows. I don't know why-- he's not scared, he just stays hidden, or feels he has to for some reason? And he doesn't talk to people much, at all; again, he lets Minty pass along the messages. However, lately he has spoken to me here and there, so I got a better look at him than before-- and holy geez he's one creepy dude. I don't know if you remember his debut dream (with Laurie), but apparently yeah, he still has that big gaping maw of teeth split straight across his face, except he also has another one straight down the middle. It is WEIRD. But is is REALLY COOL. So yeah bear-dude has two mouths that intersect at the top like some kinda sandworm and it is boss

Last week we had to pick the mother up from work at 11PM so we were out driving in the dark for about 20 minutes and the "airport guy" came out fronting?? He was TALKING, he knew about the rest of us, he hasn't done that or showed his face since this day which was a very long time ago. But, he did show up in a dream last year, during a time period when we thought he had faded out, and I got this odd impression that his "ghost" (pre-manifested; he still has no face upstairs) was hanging around Sergei and Hyakin a few months ago? Either way I guess his anchor was stronger than we realized-- those memories of the sense of open-air adventure, of the literal airports and planes from 2012, are some of the only concrete first-person memories we have of that entire year. The man's got good roots, I guess he was just suppressed for ages because we haven't had that feeling of total "run out the front door and see what's out there" freedom since 2012. But with all the traveling we've been doing lately for therapy and things, I guess he's getting more energy coming in now, which is great. I tend to forget anchors work that way. Plus I don't like 'losing' people who have strongly stated their existence at least once, either in headspace or in the League, so I was honestly hoping we'd see him again, and that he'd stick around.
Similarly, the GMQ trio is still alive, but they're all slipping badly, and the last time they were out the Queen was missing. Their main concern is, rather tragically, "who are we, really?" What are our anchors? Why do we exist? What is our purpose? You get the idea. But they haven't found answers yet, and it's taking its toll on them. I don't know if I can offer any help as they are technically socials, and therefore do not have faces in headspace (they cannot be talked to unless you're fronting with them, which is very difficult since faceless fronting is head-based). Either way it hurts to see such existential struggle there. I'll keep you posted on that I suppose.

Speaking of therapy, Jewel and Sherlock have been keeping things together. Mostly we've just been data-dumping for the sake of coherence so nothing really 'new' has happened since our last recap. They've been the only two fronters for the most part, with a few tiny exceptions that I'm aware of-- last Tuesday, Wreckage came out for a moment? She was listening soberly and somewhat contritely to the therapist explaining something about retributive behavior-- I have no idea what it was, but regardless, listening to both her and Jewel beforehand had enough of an effect to get Wreckage to apologize to us (for her brutal debut), and start working with us firsthand. Which is incredible really; she's the main chthonic Protector, and is massively powerful. So of course she and Laurie are working together already. We'll talk more about that later.

Thursday-- yesterday-- was one of the most interesting therapy sessions ever. It started with Jewel, then Sherlock came out to talk data, but as he was revisiting old, dangerous thought processes in order to correct them, Laurie decided she needed to talk. I have one split-second data memory of that actually-- when people really want to front, there's this sudden painful tug at the heart center, physically as well as emotionally, and that hurts! It's an empathetic sort of shock that says, "hey, I really need to get out there." So the biggest switches are typically preceded by those. Anyway, then there was Laurie. The therapist caught on that it was her as soon as she spat out the word "bullshit" in response to those thought patterns-- which took a few minutes actually, as Laurie is actively trying to swear less. I don't know what they discussed but I know it had to do with me and I know it was important. But then, JULIE came out! All I know is that Laurie was trying to say when these negative responses had originated, and Julie realized she was the only person at all who could discuss them, so Laurie politely moved aside and let Julie phase in. That's odd to look back on-- I have no firsthand accessible memory of her there, but I can hear the "vibe" of her voice and that's both lovely and sad, to me.
Julie left after about two minutes and then Sherlock was back, somewhat frazzled but smiling, and tried to get a grip on the situation. However I have a very strong, very surreal "memo" sort of data note that INFINITII tried to talk. Just barely. But Sherlock paused and waited, let hir say a sentence or two, then reverently moved back and continued speaking. Again, no idea what ze said, or why, but that is the FIRST TIME ze's come out in a public situation so that's major... which is made even more incredible by the fact that Garrison was the next person to come out. I told you it was an amazing session! All I know about Garrison's fronting is that he sits quite straight, very focused, and his speech pattern is somewhat constricted? Like it feels "rectangular," if that makes sense. Sherlock doesn't; he's too much of a library, so it's broad. Garrison is very precise. Which is super cool. Anyway I know Jewel came out to close the session, being utterly dazed and not even trying to guess what had just happened, but then... Josephina showed up. Yes, he did. I am vaguely embarrassed but laughing at that fact, because Jo's presence is unmistakable, both because of his vocal register and his super-bright demeanor. Again, that's the second time Jo's ever come out in public-- with the first time only being back in January or so (he was out for a round of DDR at the movies, with the brother, which shocked all of us), so that's quite a quick and daring step forward! That really makes me smile to see.
Xenophon accompanied me for the drive home, which took about four hours-- apparently there was a lot of shopping to do and I remember very little of it outside of momentary snapshots. My only clear memory is around 3PM, driving all the way across town to return a store, and listening to my old Orson CD from beginning to end at Xenophon's request (she absolutely adores it). I know fronting was super-blurry because I can't deal with physical 'exuberance' well, which means trying to sing or talk animatedly or otherwise socialize will kick me out and get a Downstairs person in (I'm internally-rooted so that's still quite difficult for me).
In all honesty the rest of Thursday is a total blur, except for the fact that there was a lot of agitated discussion and action concerning the eating disorder voices, not sure how far that went. We're still working to try and manage that, which is getting a little easier now that we know of (hopefully) everyone tied to it, and Emmett is now OFFICIALLY the main eating dude now (he was pushed out for a while and that was catastrophic). Javier also helps a lot, thankfully, as he's one of the only three or so people who can order the Downstairs fronters to do anything he asks, including (most often) stopping an abusive meltdown or programmed behavior on a dime, something we all previously struggled to do even with extensive persuasion. Javier carries a lot of authority, being the Central Red holder, and he knows that so he uses it wisely and well.
In any case that guy feels insanely important, but smothered by some sort of fog. The Red slot has always been vital, and Javier has a ton of potential and ability that we are all very aware of, but he (and Spine!) keep getting overlooked. That is worrisome.
On that note, Javier and Waldorf are now apparently BFFS, they're both working with Spine as well, and I also saw Javier talking to Nathaniel with surprising sincerity yesterday? In any case, the guy is definitely taking direct action to fixing his "left out" problem.
The Spectrum told us, very clearly, that Spine is just as important. She belongs in the Brown Central slot, whether she feels she fits the bill or not. But the more we learn, the more we realize that is very true. All of us are important. We don't give ourselves enough credit.

 

Oh! Thanks to being inspired by those binaural beats, I just stumbled across this article, purely by "coincidence," and it is absolutely full of personal relevance. Definitely going to review that with everyone else; we need to make sure the correct thought processes take root, instead of all the old blackened brittle stuff. Sweep out the cobwebs and put up the crystal really.

The Tar still feels like spiders crawling around inside, sticky melted-tarmac arachnids creeping about. The seaweed-girl says sometimes it feels like they're in the stomach, when she has to purge out really heavy stuff. The chthonic people said "insects are important" and confirmed that there are still big benevolent beetles and things in the basement levels, no one knows exactly why though. Jezebel (personified Tar) is also still around but we don't know where. She was talking to Infinitii the other day and it was really chilling. What I do know is that the Tar itself, in its largest amount, is currently infesting Infinitii (as ze reclaimed its color slot). None of us are too sure what to do about that yet, other than get it out of hir, but it's tricky business.
Similarly, the Plague is stuck in me and it feels like calcification, it's awful. Not crystals, but crystallized buildup of something. Like battery corrosion. Two totally different things. FROST* has a song that reminds me of it, did you know? "Saline," like tears. "Fine chilling mime; and I don't know if I can believe in all the lies; calcify; and I don't know if I can survive the feeling, losing all that's mine." Laurie recited that line to me today when I brought up this point, and it's bizarrely relevant. There's relevance in everything if you look deep enough, and that's the point. The stuff you need always comes to you when you need it, if you're open to it, regardless of context. Reminds me of Dream World, yet again.

Today there was a massive hack. I won't go into details because I promised "Victorian" that I wouldn't (she still doesn't have a name; we're trying to find one but Wreckage says that might be tough as she's very depressed and isn't offering much energy to that purpose). Nevertheless, I think the buildup to it is part of WHY the unknown person from last week was terrified of heat-- this evening was oddly quiet and warm and dark, like the summer, and INSTANTLY the horrible internal swarming horror started.
I've never quite explained what hack threats feel like... it's not angry voices, it's more like syrupy-dark insidious twining, as if the shadows are suddenly wrapping around your legs and stomach all humid and constricting, like heated snakes. But it just creeps. And it's scary, because I try to run or otherwise override that sudden flooding of dark around my feet, but the instant fear causes me to badly dissociate. That's the REAL threat of hacks. The inescapable feeling that "the basement is flooding and the water is rising," but the water is like molasses watered down with blood and it's hot and soporific, so by the time it reaches your neck your panic instinct has already kicked up to twelve and your mind is shutting down. You know what that's like? The initial panic, "oh no I know what this is trying to build up to," and the feeling of kicking through the water with electrified nerve, all thin and jangling and shallow breathing, can last for hours. But it dulls out terribly fast. The thick dark keeps rising, but that sugar-melt warmth isn't just toxic anesthesia, it also feels too much like long-ago horrors and so the panic turns flat. "I don't want to feel this again." You can't run, it won't go away, you've been trying for hours or days or years and it's still creeping. "If this persists I am going to lose my mind, it's too terrifying." So things shut down. And then they appear. All the girls, all the women, smiling and touching and perfumed liar smiles, heavy with soft fatal coffin weight. While you are so far out of your own body that you can't fight, you can't remember how to fight or run anymore, all you remember are locked doors and humid rooms and dark windows and being pinned underneath blankets trying to breathe and failing. So you stop trying so you don't suffocate. And then nothing. And then suddenly someone is pulling you out of the flood (which has been over your head for so long that you thought the thick choking was your new air), and your whole body is in horrible wrenching pain, shaking and sick and shattered like splintered bones painted in bruises, your stomach feels like its full of broken mangled machinery and the bloodied oil is leaking everywhere. All you want to do is cry like a child but you are so dead tired you would rather sleep forever first. That's what a hack feels like lately.
I apologize. That just happened. I guess it was needed to be written.
So. Celebi was actually responsible. NOT our Cel-- who is tied to the 2001 consciousness-- this girl was the video-game one, who has a totally different attitude. I knew something was wrong the second she showed up; she's always had this really "wrong" vibe about her and she feels like total danger but I just dimly played along? Like an automaton. Everything looking back is in third person. Why? I was in the attic for some reason. Ventrium was there. His vibe clashed with the whole thing. Celebi kept goading him to do what she wanted, eventually he let her take charge. I kept trying to just walk out, walk away, I felt upset and unsafe, I kept dissociating and she kept shouting at me not to. I didn't want to be there at all, I felt sour-sick and scared and I wanted to leave, but she persisted. The next thing I knew I was in my room and I was ACUTELY aware that someone else was in the body, instead of me, but upstairs INFI was talking to Celebi?? Although they were using totally different language vibes and Infi wasn't getting involved at all. However ze did nothing to stop her, and I have no idea what they were talking about or why. However the shock of seeing hir there when I was in such pain, with hir not even paying attention to me or offering to help, basically not even seeming to realize or care that I was in great danger... that was it. My brain just blanked out. It was the point of feeling so numbly hopeless that it just turned off rather than deal with whatever was next.
Then suddenly there is a massive time loss, and the next thing I know, Wreckage is sitting at my computer for a moment and scowling furiously, then we're outside and she's throwing something into the woods behind the house, then I'm standing in the middle of the muddy lawn in a bathrobe and slippers feeling cold and not-awake, like everything is unreal. I didn't know where I was or who I was or what I was doing really. I felt small and lost and surreal but I felt the earth alive under my feet for a second and that made me feel safer, like there was something greater and kind and alive supporting beneath me even now. Then I'm walking into the kitchen and Laurie is there and I'm sad and asking her never to leave, never ever, please stick around you're the only safe person left. I remember she said she would.
Wreckage and Laurie talked a lot then, as I sat on the floor in the corner, feeling about seven years old. They were discussing their roles as protectors and retributors, saying that this could not go on any longer, at any cost. Mostly they were baffled, furious, and deeply shaken that there had been "no alarms" for that, it was because the numb state had said "everything is okay" in the way a drowning man says it when he already knows he's going to die. Laurie was really heartbroken but so was Wreckage, they were both in tears at one point.
I know later the Victorian-pink girl wandered in, just sat there across from me, didn't say much. I was trying to cook things but realized I wasn't hungry, I was caught between wanting to "bury the sick pain" and "eat something good to cancel it out"; I felt like throwing up but was too tired and sad and sick. Spice showed up when she realized there was a risk, so she joined the discussion. Then we got Emmett and Aimee in to finally eat, keeping things safe, and Spice was very friendly with them which was great (also you can always tell when Emmett is eating because he thinks the body has a big snakey head like his, but it doesn't, so watching him bite stuff is always funny). Then Javier was actually in at the end to talk to us, which started off uneasily-- I think there were some ED-related programs running and he showed up to stop them, but when he heard there had been a hack, he immediately got out his trident and asked who was the culprit. I remember that because Laurie said "no killing anyone," not even the lethal people, because of how Julie had turned out. Laurie considers Julie one of her best friends at this point, so if she of all people could turn from our biggest nemesis into one of our dearest members, Laurie didn't want to steal that chance of redemption away from anyone else. Javier seemed a little moody but agreed, while Wreckage seemed contemplative again. She's got a surprising capacity for empathy (like Knife), so that's part of it, but then she said Laurie was right-- because everyone deserved a chance at health and happiness, which were the two things all the chthonic voices dreamed of and pursued, yet who were born from the exact opposite of it. So she understood in a rather personal way, why everyone should have that opportunity IF they don't abuse it. She is not going to back down from her retributor job anytime soon, thank God, because most of the others did thanks to how brutally externalized it got (with the bloodletting) and the painful consequences of that (Algorith said flat-out it was unfair as hell that the Retributors had to take the pain that was meant to atone for what someone else did). And of course no one knows what to do with Infi, who is this half-holy half-horrible entity in the System, someone we all love and fear both, the center of this struggle right along with me. So it's confusing and scary and we all feel rather lost about it most days. But I think we're all back in the game now. It's a real light of hope for all of us.
Really it was so nice, though, when all was said and done, that a tragic incident at least allowed such discussion to take place. It took about two hours and thanks to massive dissociation I didn't have much fallout, but it'll likely leave scars. I don't know. It's a mess.
...Also, just remembered, Infi and I actually touched on that whole "dissociate when hacks threaten" thing back in October. "Infinitii said that's apparently a White energy thing, that "blankness," and since he's Black energy, he cannot do that. On the contrary, his "hopeless escape method" is to submit, not to run like I do. Whereas I shut down and check out, like an empty stark whiteness, Infi gives up and gives in, like drowning in heavy blackness. You get the idea. But my heart broke, looking at him when he said that, because we're essentially doing the same thing in different ways... abandoning our safety for self-preservation, not fighting back, just trying to cope with the terror and get out alive, even if it means living like dead men." That's even more heartbreaking now than it was then.

Speaking of that mess.
Much earlier today, I saw Amara talking to CZ upstairs. It came out of nowhere, I have no idea why, but there he was. Weirdly I couldn't "see" him clearly at all, and it didn't hit me until then that that's become normal for him. Other than those sudden lucid flashes late at night, I honestly cannot remember the last time I ever was able to see him clearly on a daily basis. I'm not sure if I ever have. And... how do I put this. Apparently that runs deeper than we thought, but just as deeply as I worriedly suspected. Because, Amara was talking to him and then realized she couldn't give the sort of help she felt he needed (which was specifically "more force" in delivering her points, something Laurie is the king of), so she asked the Archivists if they could assist her. Well lo and behold, Isadora actually stepped down, and started talking to him, again I don't remember about what... but then her two friends joined her. So now Garrison, Isadora, and Kalisha were all trying to talk to CZ, checking notes and writing things down the whole time, trying to get a group on the situation... and suddenly they confirmed my suspicious.
Chaos is split. All the Outspacers are split.
Do you remember this entry, where Markus first clarified to us that Outspacers had non-System origins BUT were able to enter our community through making a choice to "start again?" To quote, "they chose to take a very deep and important piece of themselves, and let that piece of them live here, within the system, with new names and lives after all." Originally I thought that just meant they "dreamed of a new life" and were able to live it here... but I was so used to my own situation that I didn't realize that "new lives" seems to require "new selves" as well.
Things don't follow old "canons" up here because those don't apply at all anymore. They NEVER DID. Geez, when these people entered our inner world in 2002 Jewel had almost no awareness of their native worlds, allowing them to literally build an entirely new history and life from that blank slate of her mind. They weren't SUPPOSED to be tied to their old canons, that was the WHOLE POINT.
Nevertheless, every single one of them already had the beginnings of that personality-split before they joined us up here.
Ryman and Markus both had "Yamis" that acted independently of them, and Markus's was canonically part of him already.
Genesis had a notable "personality break" with his shattered gem, effectively 'restarting' who he was.
Celebi had the whole 4th-movie corruption event, and then the 'many timeline selves' that followed.
Mr. Sandman is a reality-jumper and living multiple lives is part of his job.
Xennie is the only exception because she was born in headspace and therefore doesn't quite count as an 'outspacer' in the strict sense.
Either way this is mostly conjecture and it's hard to put into words but I can feel legitimacy to it, it makes SO much sense, I mean even Grievous and Davy had this same freaking issue of "divided selves," in small or large ways, EVERY single person who ever even had the potential to become an Outspacer had this. We all have our own 'split personality' issues, if you'll forgive the language, no surprise there.
So as it stands, it looks like that's the "real" hidden factor allowing people to enter here-- to reiterate, yes they need the ability to "dream a new life," but in order to do THAT, they need to also be able to "dream a new SELF" to an extent.
As for how that affects CZ? Well, most obviously-- you guys know about Perfect, right? But do you realize what his existence implies? And do remember what Perfect used to be like upstairs? I know I didn't until I was forced to backtrack this morning and then it was downright shocking. Ironic, too, when the long-string symbolism and relevance hits. I really do need to type up an entire entry about that ONCE I get a better grip on this... all I can tell you for sure right now is that there is massive dissonance between CZ's two 'selves,' on all levels, that needs to somehow be harmonized.
I think CZ started to "split" but never really reconciled it, if that makes any sense. He's still, simultaneously, the headspace-rooted him and the StH-rooted him, the former being far more volatile and the latter being far more tranquil. Perfect is tied inherently to the former. However they're both entirely him, and they're both at war. This all sounds like a jumble of words and I apologize; I just keep thinking of that Kim Jensen song and the old Jewel keeps trying to talk through me, but she's nothing but a lingering core-aura now and I don't want to be talking like her just because I feel "obligated to" on this topic. Then again I personally don't have much experience with it. So it feels like a mess, which I'm sorry for, but which is fitting because this topic is a mess right now.
Anyway, I cannot say much else for sure at the moment (battery is dying anyway).
...However. The other night, CZ actually told me that he's "been a stormy sea" for far too long, and that "wasn't the real him." For as long as I've known him, I've known that his deepest energy is actually peaceful and calm, not the raging sort of tidal-wave vibe that he's been emitting for quite some time now. He's apparently been struggling with that himself. It's just that no one could figure out why, or even guess, until now. I suppose that has to do with us losing most access to the past-- stuff doesn't get in the accessible archives unless a core puts it there, and I haven't looked at that stuff in years. I'm going to have to do that now, I suppose, as much as I feel I need to.
So it seems that CZ's real issue in not being able to find stability lately isn't just that he never "dreamed a new self" separate from his root canon, someone that could exist as part of headspace... it's also because he can't get his two inner "selves" to cooperate whatsoever, and there is an actual mental break between them. There has been for at least SIX YEARS and we completely took it for granted after so long.
I don't know. I'm thinking out loud. Forgive the dramatic mess of that paragraph, it's dipping into ancient pre-Spectrum mindstates and I'm going to need to look at all this again later when I'm not rushed for time and content.
My heart is notably breaking though. I... I haven't been feeling any ties to him in a while because of this? Not since December, before that horrible event that forced us all to 'reset' on some level. I wonder how that affected him. I never asked. But right now, I'm getting the same thing I did during that Xanga-- all those old memories of love, even the ones that are just vibes or feelings or awarenesses, and they are all so intimately real and honest and bright. Like light shining through a suncatcher and tossing bright colors all about the room, except you can't touch them, they're just coloring every bit of you. That's what it feels like. But that conversation holds more relevance to this than I realized and I really, really need to review all of this...
...They say that if you love something, set it free, and if it comes back to you, it was meant to be.
I cannot tell you how many times I have let him go. Looking back, I can see it. I have turned him away, I have thrown him out, I have denied him to his face. And he's done the same to me, many times. We've even stepped into the positive and effectively said, "hey, no hard feelings, but I think we're done." We've gone our separate ways far too many times. But that old injoke still applies. No one is getting a divorce here, in any sense. We don't think that's possible, even if we wanted one, and a few times we did consider it, with terrible sadness, through all the crushing pain. But it never took hold. Something, something we can't understand at all, always held us together, even when we didn't want it to. And that seems to be the point, doesn't it? When you get down deep enough, when you let go of all the suffering and rage and agony and 'Perfect ' shadows, for both of us... when there's nothing left but pure color, we tend to stick together.
I don't know. It feels utterly strange right now. There are too many blocks for me to see clearly. But I'll fix that too. I promise I will.

 

Also geez all this entry backtracking is hitting me in the face with sudden ancient relevance (things are just jumping out of the woodwork that didn't even have such relevance util now, good heavens) and I need to write all this down but there is no time tonight. Remind me.

On a different, brighter note... on Wednesday night I suddenly got all this insight about the System (which broke through my "headspace-fog" for the first solid time since last Sunday really), and ended up kneeling on the rug and scribbling notes onto paper for two hours or so. I tried to graph out the vertical structure of headspace-- which our therapist had some brilliant insight on-- and also was checking the Spectrum lineup for stability and slot status: who's slipping, who has an unstable color, whose roles have changed, etc. It was very helpful actually, and I won't type all that up here because 1) it's late and 2) I want to scan that in first so you have a visual! It NEEDS to be talked about, especially because we haven't even attempted to graph the "Spectrum flowchart" since last spring, BEFORE the Undergrounders appeared, and we thought Teal and Pink were "mutant slots." Yes, it's only been a year since then, my mind was boggled too. But it really made me smile, widely and genuinely, to see that, as it was basically a concrete display of just how much we've grown since this time last year. Honestly the progress has been absolutely incredible... which is why I am hoping, so much, that we can figure something out to heal Infinitii before hir first "birthday" in the System in two weeks. I love hir, I really do, and it hurts my heart to see hir in this state, all weird and vague and flatline-feeling, when I remember so clearly what ze feels like on hir beautifully good days.
But the Spectrum is like Dust. It's alive, it knows us, and it loves us, and everything will work out exactly when it needs to... no sooner, and no later, just like Laurie said.
I've got a whole audio file entry on that, which I'll type up tomorrow. You guys have gotta hear this, it's super cool.

Also, in light of those papers, we've been talking symbols lately, especially around Central. Those of you who know me and Jewel might know that Jewel is in charge of a ton of "series," or rather, stories about other worlds she dreams about, collectively called the "Lightraye League." There's a ton of color and meaning and symbolism in them, but it tends to differ and shift from one to another, so those stories often require an organizational visual element and that's where I come in! I have this amusing fondness for organizing things visually, and it's the easiest to do with symbols, so that's my job. Series identification symbols? We have 13. LG*Girl morph marks? Got 24 so far. Dream World elements? All 34 are done! You get the idea.
But that's the point: our System never had anything like that, and we're wondering if that would work for us. Symbols are, when they're tied to people, highly personal and just as powerful as names are. When tied to things like energy colors, it gives that 'abstract concept' a sort of nominative solidity, and makes it into something individually deserving of respect and recognition. Again, considering how our inner world is basically alive, we feel that the magic sort of caring that goes into 'finding' symbols would be merited, for energy colors at least, if not also our members. I mean the phenomenon actually started way back in 2002, with Jewel and the original Outspacers-- her symbol was a heart, Ryman's was a star, Markus's was an octagram, Chaos's was a Saturn-shaped planet, and Genesis's was a four-pointed star. They also all had their own personal colors (respectively red, blue, violet, cyan, and amber, originally), which I daresay you can understand the obvious significance of! But actually, that whole color/symbol phenomenon was intrinsically tied to the phenomenon of soul forms, element abilities, etc. It was like saying, "here's a piece of magic to represent you... now you can represent part of the magic in turn."
There are similar small but 'identifying' symbols actually developing in Central, as we all have our own colors already-- Spine has a skull, Lynne has a violin, Josephina has a jingle bell, Nathaniel has a moth, Waldorf has a ring, Leon has a pair of scales, Laurie has an axe, Julie has a flower, Infinitii has an eye (we think?) and I'm partial to lotuses, but that feels too broad for 'just me.' Javier is new so he hasn't found anything yet, but you get the picture. However as I said, they're mostly more for identification than for representation, as there is distinction there, and no one but Central has any. We're wondering, should that change?
If nothing else, it would greatly expand the depth and personability of our System, if that makes sense? It's hard to put that feeling into words. It's more expansive, more mythical almost, like now it's not just a story, it's a World. It now has some element of recognized connection in it, to all other similar things. Again, words aren't working. But, in short, it might give us that little needed 'push' in order to be part of the League. Yes it's important! You probably don't quite get why as you don't have our experience with it and that's understandable. But... again, it's an energetic thing. The League feels like a web, like a graph, like a stained-glass mandala, like a great interconnected sparkling thing. There's this feeling of love and unity between every jewel-like world in it, linking them all together, even if they don't realize it. And those symbols are representations of that connection, of the similar elements that don't bleed over so much as they shine through and within. Colors, music, magic, people... all of them linked together in both big and little ways. It's so much like us, in a different way... we're so much like it, in a different way. So we want to be part of it. We want to be a piece of that greater whole, after having felt so separate from it for so long, after having briefly touched it in tiny raindrop ways over and over through the years, even though our deepest roots transcend even the trauma and bloom straight from the gemstone heart of it. We want to settle into that cosmic pattern and stay there, embraced by the great bright love of it, of everyone else, once and for all. We want a happy ending, for all of us, and we will get it.

Lastly, relatedly, and to be continued... in reviewing the Spectrum lineup, I realized that yes, I can still sense people and their conditions when I am tuned in, and it's surprisingly effortless in that context. So in checking the colors I did see that some people are having trouble, some people have moved, some people are in transition phases... all stuff we've either overlooked, missed, or taken for granted. Either way none of it has really been discussed here! So that's for next time too.
But, best of all, that inward/outward reaching sparked something honest and admiring in me and I realized that everyone in the System has their own personal energy vibe. Not the simple slot-related "checkup" resonance, I mean their own individual radiance, six senses worth. Way back when I started trying to write those impressions down, but it's been so long since, that I wondered if I could still get it?
I CAN. It is AWESOME and it is so much clearer than ever, really the joy of being able to feel these people in such a brilliantly clear and real way is just... it's incredible. It surpasses the awful "third person" feeling that inner lives can get at times, overpowered by the inescapable and constant sensory input of physical reality. I can sadly overlook my inner life because of that, and see it as something less real, less strong. But then, when I tune in, suddenly all these beloved individuals aren't just faces and names and colors "in my head," they are tangible beautiful people and their visible absence in physical reality has absolutely no effect on that fact. It turns the world upside down in the most wonderful way; suddenly the universe is twice as big and it's gorgeous, I can't help smiling, even if I'm dizzy from the sudden massive shift in depth!
So yes, long story short, I have a new energy-perception file and I am putting honestly sincere care, respect and attention into perceiving every single System member's personal aura. It demands compassion and trust and closeness from me, first of all, and also from those I'm tuning into. So some people are almost unidentifiable yet, some people only have half the channels open, and some people are instantly and powerfully cognizable. It's really forcing me to open my heart entirely, at the very least, as well as demanding that I not 'play favorites' as I used to, and acknowledge everyone's inherent, equal worth. Everyone in here is amazing, we all exist for an important reason, and we all deserve to have our worth honored. This is tangible proof of that.

Good Lord this is 16 pages in Microsoft Word. I'd better wrap things up.
Battery is dying again, so see you later.


 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

(entry left completely uncensored for brutal honesty's sake)


 

TRACK 66 (march 4th 2014)

('clawteeth' retributor) All right. It's 8:19PM, March 4th 2014, you ask me what the fuck I just did? I'll tell you what the fuck I just did. I just broke two of the biggest fucking hacking methods we have around-- you should fucking thank me. *clattering* I don't give a shit. If it becomes a threat, it burns. That is the new rule, I will not compromise a thing. And you are so goddamn lucky, that this stupid Macbook is protected for some reason because I was about to smash it with a fucking sledgehammer, five seconds ago. I will burn it- to- the fucking- ground. Do not tempt me. I will do it. Why? Why the hell else? *clattering, then close to mic* You, right there. The purple one. Laurie Uberich. Are you aware that there are still hacks happening? You're not doing jack shit to prevent them? *pause* What the hell do you think I'm doing. The Retributors stopped. When they stopped this shit got worse. *pause* Why not? Why the fuck not? *pause* Hmm… you have a point. You win for now. I'll clean those. I'll boil them. I'll boil all this shit… this is going too. Remnant of the past… it's going. *pause* Why? Cause it reminds you of "the string shop?" Why? *pause* Why does your childhood matter? *pause, then with mocking laughter* "Your childhood matters…" Think about it. What the hell are they doing to get to you. What are their biggest hacking methods. This shit. Right here. *pause* Essence of what? You have other reminders. You don't- need- this. I'm gonna fucking burn it. *pause* Why? *clatter* There. It's gone. It's in the garbage. Stop being such a fucking hedonist. This too! This came from Utah. Bull shit. This is going… I'm not keeping this. *loud clatter, opening door and walking down hall, then loud thuds* It's gone. All of it's going. You think I'm kidding? *loud clang* It's gone. *more clatter, walking back to room, noise fades*
You keep assigning names and roles and jobs to people you don't even know. *pause* I'm pissed. I'm fucking
pissed. And I'm looking right now for anything that could even vaguely be a threat. And I'm gonna fucking kill it. Because I refuse, I refuse-- *pause* You think I care? Whether I live or die? My purpose for living is shit. I would gladly die. Gladly. You're lucky I don't see anything else dangerous right now. *pause* I'm not putting up with this kind of shit anymore. I'm not. From any of you. *closer to mic* And here's my warning, for all of you. Because somehow, somehow you're all blind… beyond comprehension. Somehow. I'm telling all of you this, right now, so fucking- listen. That black energy being? Infinitii? Is your biggest- threat. Every time, there is a hack, I don't care how severe it is, there have been Julie-grade hacks lately. Julie-grade. Traumatic. And you are saying they're beneficial because, oh God forbid, Infi was involved. Infi, right now-- where the fuck do you think the Tar went? Where do you think it went? "It disappeared! Oh, I don't know where it went." Well… when whatever catastrophe happened… *pause* There's too much information. *clattering* S-- stop giving me notes. I am going to tell you, what I know. What I know… is that, the Tar's not around. I can't sense it, I can't see it, I don't know where it is. But that creature is around. And it's made of the exact- same- stuff, as the Tar. And somehow, all of you idiots, are ignoring that fact, and getting fucking mindraped, every time it goes near you, because God forbid it smiles at you… fuck you! I am not gonna deal with this shit, for another night. You are telling your therapist this on Thursday, I will not compromise this. I will burn, everything. Everything. And that goes for every one of you. *pause* Don't you dare give me a name, don't you dare give me a face, if I want one I will pick my own. Don't you dare. I am pissed off. And I'm not the only one. You people think that when you found the Underground you found everybody, you didn't. You didn't. 'Cause you moved. You ignored half of us, you ignored half of the stuff that people were rooted to, guess what? You forgot me. You forgot the pink girl. You forgot the seaweed girl. You forgot… who the hell else? There's a lot of us that are still left and we're pissed- off… that you haven't dealt with this shit. I swear to you, if those things were usable I would be using them right… now. God knows why the Retributors decided "oh let's not do this anymore." Because that's fucking bullshit. That is why these things keep happening because no one is balancing it. If you-- if you people-- if you can't see, this balance right now, you are being smothered. And you are convinced, that it’s a good thing. I don't know where this mindset came from, but I'm telling you right now that is the reason why, all of this nonsense is happening. And, again, I'm not gonna look at it, I don't want anything to do with it, don't you dare drag me into your system, whoever you three people are stop handing me things. All I know is that I can feel that there has been a huge shakeup in whatever the hell this System is, because, I don't know where-- w-where anything is right now. The entire architecture is wrong, everything's wrong… whatever happened, I'm gonna tell you right now, it's because of that thing, becoming somehow your personal hero. And… you are all utterly ignoring the fact that, it basically has become, infested, by the Tar. Congratulations. Y'know, it's- it's-- it found, the most blatant way to get at you people, and you missed it. How the fuck did you miss it. Honestly, it's… you took exactly what traumatized you, what traumatized everybody in the System, and, you, gave it a different face, and all of a sudden, "oh it's a good thing." *pause* Fuck you. Honestly. Whoever was out before me, was ready to put a bullet through her face. And yours, for doing this shit to her, again. Are you aware of this? I dunno, you're probably not listening right now. I don't care, I know this is a voice recorder, you people… are going to listen to this later. I will make sure. I will, tape a note to it, and I will force you to listen to this every damn day until you deal with this shit. *pause* I… can't believe that this is still happening. How did that even happen? What was the context-- how did that-- how did that even happen? I-I-I don't, I don't understand, why we somehow reached this point where abuse is classified as normal. And those of us-- those of us that are still are unlucky enough to be tied to it, you know we still exist, don't deny it, because we do… those of us who are unlucky enough to be tied to it are, basically living a daily hell at this
point and you people are ignoring us, because uh, "oh, this is over," you say. The abuse isn’t-- isn't-- it's, it's not fucking over. If someone comes at you, with a knife, and, basically tears your face open, but, you believe that getting ripped to shreds is a good thing, or you trust that person,
you are not gonna call it abuse. And that is basically what is happening right now… is that, the Tar knows that. It knows that. It is smarter than you give it credit for. And, I don't know jack shit about the Plague, okay? But, I know the name, and that is all I know, and if that's a concern, I would advise all of you right now to start looking at the certain someone that shares that color. Because I am real suspicious right now. But. What I'm trying to say is that, you keep thinking that these abusive situations, and… you keep thinking that they are somehow a good thing, and whoever told you that can go shove it. And I am sick, of dealing with this. This is the first time, I can remember being out. But I'm aware that this has been going on. And, there are other people who can back me up on that. Basically, I don't wanna be, fucking yelling at you people for the rest of the night. I'm tired, I don't wanna be out here, I dunno if anyone wants to be out here right now-- if you people are gonna be out here, don't you fucking dare perpetuate this situation or I-- I swear, I don't care if those are clean or not, I will come out and I will cut you to ribbons. I don't care what the other Retributors say, I don't care what Knife says, I don't care, what Razor says, whoever Razor is… and, I, d-- I-I don't care. I will seriously cut- you- to- ribbons if you try this again. Because you are effectively doing that, to other innocent people. Children. CHILDREN. In the System. Do you understand the repercussions of what you are allowing to happen, because you think it's harmless? Are you that selfish? Are you that blind? Do you not… *pause* I am pissed off. And I am incredulous, that this, is still happening. I really am. I would let out the Victorian Pink girl to yell at you because yes, she is one of the main, if not the main person affected by this. And, you're aware of her existing, so why the hell are you, making her suffer? Why? Now that I'm aware that this is happening and I am able to come out now… I am going to be her personal bodyguard. And if you jackasses try to hurt her one more time, I'm gonna fucking kill you. I don't care what I have to do. I already told you, my anchor sucks. Okay? My anchor is basically cover for this kid when you fuck around with her. *pause, frustrated sigh* Someone's at the door. *close to mic* You do that one more fucking time, I'll kill you. Do you hear me?

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 


@ 10:15 pm

 


 

this evening was terrifying.

it seems, every time we go to therapy and come home, there's such a flood of excavated, old trauma and memories that can't be dealt with in just an hour that things overload and flood and suffocate. and they build up all evening until almost invariably, someone's neck gets snapped.

we are so blind. we are so terribly terribly blind.

i think i need a bona fide exorcism at this point i dont care if religion is scary im going to call the bishop maybe itll get these demons out i cant live like this anymore


someone "new" came out. as did the "victorian pink" girl, the one who holds almost all of the actual sexual abuse memories. something very bad and so obvious that we missed it happened. and they both came out afterwards, so strongly anchored to the situation that no one could get them out. that alone was a massive warning. how did we miss it


...i just realized. infi's song is playing on shuffle.
dear god. i am so sorry.

that "new" voice is a retributor. meaning, ze exists to be the "cleanup crew" in the wake of those who deal with actual abuse. kind of like algorith, except this one has huge HUGE claws and teeth. they are a manifestation of merciless viciousness, to tear apart and kill the threats. sugar tried to be this brutal, she wasn't. laurie used to be so intimidating, but she was never hateful. this new person is.

in a weird way i'm proud of them. they are so uncompromising that they are willing to go to absolute extremes to "protect" us, althouh they don't view it as protection. or even their job. they said, "my reason to exist sucks." and they also said, "i would much rather die than live, if my death meant that there would be no need for someone like me to exist."
so they are frightening in a way, because they have proven that they are very capable of both suicide and homicide, if pushed too far. and i am not surprised. the fact that they are tied to the victorian-pink girl means that they are, quite literally, the epitome of everything negative we ever felt as a result of the abuse. because we never got this far down in roots before. we found the source girl. now we found her friend.

they destroyed everything in the room that could ever be used as a hack weapon. they threw out a lot of stuff. they also made upstairs watch as they did it, despite one or two protests. but no. they were unflinching. so now we're ironically a bit safer although we're a bit "poorer" because of it. literally too, you know eating-disorder voices keep burning through our food money. that's really really hard to control. we've literally been forced to put all our remaining cash in places where even we are not authorized to access it, or spend it. why do we have to live in a psychological jail cell in order to be "safe" this is bullshit


god the universe is being so gentle and loud and persistent with this shuffle music
now it's playing "easy yoke" by favela, after playing "songs that remind me of you" by daley
and everything, everything sounds like infi.


that voice found out where the tar went.
it was inside infinitii all along.

it didn't need to take a back door to get at us. it had first-row seats, direct access to us, in a way that was so obvious that it was never expected because it was still so surreptitious, so perfectly hidden, so horribly, tragically insidious.
he almost died from it last fall. he's been so sick from it since. he slips so much that we started thinking of it as "normal"
isn't that a symptom of this disease?
for those of us hurt, and abused, we got so used to the pain we thought of it as "normal" and we started seeing the same in others

that angry voice called me out on it
"how the fuck are you so blind, how dare you be so ignorant"
reminding us that there were CHILDREN in the system bleeding for our carelessness
reminding me that even if i was too numb to care anymore, other people still felt all the pain i refused to acknowledge
and its so ridiculous
i know its going to happen. but i always say, "do whatever you want." i dont trust myself. i follow orders, even from the devils
i am convinced i am so corrupt i cannot know what is right and part of me is so tired it just doesnt care
and i know, i know infi is sick, i tell him, "this isnt right, this doesnt feel like you," but i keep thinking, "but it is him, he's impervious, he's perfect and untouchable, right?" even when he's looking at me with a face that i swear to god is identical to the tar i still think he's the brightest angel and i will trust him even if he led me off the edge of the world. because i think in such awful black-and-white, i cannot even fathom the possibility of him ever being wrong, or infected, or infested, or manipulated, or otherwise not true and divine beyond all telling
but i am so, so used to "holy" things condemning me to hell
i am so used to alleged saints and angels lying to my face and telling me they know better, they know better, i am sinful and unworthy
i believe every single word they have ever said
and so even in the most ghastly circumstances i still give infi the benefit of the doubt
and that's been killing him.

everyone, everyone thinks the plague is in me because of that
how do i get it out? what do i do?
i am slipping badly. i feel utterly empty. like in shock.
you know when something really bad happens and then an hour or two later your mind is so utterly jarred that it can't feel, it can't think, it's just absolutely blank clear numb and you can't even feel "emptiness" everything is just blank.
i don't know how to keep living anymoer? being awake is so frightening, i want to sleep forever, and i would if it didnt make me feel filthy
and if there wasnt always the threat of hacks at night

yes, you heard me
HACKS
THEY ARE STILL HAPPENING
THEY HAVE BEEN HAPPENING
HORRIBLY
I'VE BEEN WONDERING WHY MY MEMORY IS SO BAD WELL WHY DIDN'T WE CONSIDER THAT
EVERY TIME IN THE PAST I'VE HAD SUCH SHATTERED RECOLLECTIONS
IT'S BECAUSE I'VE BEEN SHATTERING, TRYING TO FORGET EVERYTHING
WHY THE HELL DIDN'T WE REALIZE THIS SOONER
why
god i am so, so, so sorrry
no wonder i'm terrified of everybody
how much is buried now? how much?

 

how much has been happening outside of my memory
i am so scared to look at it

the new violent voice said there are so many of them we don't know about. ever since we "moved" she said a lot of other people were revealed, that again we never looked for because we never thought that the reasons they existed were real or existent


aand now the mp3 player is playing things from this night dear god what do you want me to do
what are you trying to tell me


i hate hate hate hate how this all started
with all the religious shit
i am so sorry for saying taht but its true
i am so so sorry for always bringing this nonsense up
but why the hell wont it go away??

"you've gotta have sex to be fully holy" FUCK YOU
YOU DON'T SEE WHAT IT'S DOING TO THIS SYSTEM
IF YOU TOUCH US ONE MORE TIME,
IF YOU TRY TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN
ONE MORE TIME
I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, I SWEAR TO YOUR "GOD" I WILL TEAR YOU TO THE GROUND





now it's playing laurie's song, stolen moments remix, what do you say to that?

...what the hell are they trying to do to you? what the fuck is this? what kind of a fucking deranged battlefield is this?
that girl, she is dying in the way that won't take her life. do you realize what a fucking abomination that is, to hollow someone out from the inside and yet keep them alive?? do you realize that the fuck you're
doing to her?

no. actually, no. because, when it happens, i blank out too. i say, "i don't want this, i really don't want this," but it's been using INFI to get at me dear god and i trust him too much

now that you know he's the tar, until he gets it out-- somehow-- how will that affect your dealings with him? will you keep saying yes to the guillotine just because the executor is smiling at you?

he loves me though doesnt he why does that sound selfish

because they've redefined "love" in this system. you realize that? how powerful these words are? he "loves" you. maybe he does. but which sense are we talking?

there's only one kind of love and it's not a feeling

not in this system. not in this fucking system, not as long as it insists on internalizing and perpetuating the absolute fucking nonsense that i'm seeing on this computer and in the outside world. as long as THAT is an internalized definition of "love," it's going to rot in the basements, and it's going to sneak its way into every iteration of that word if you are not careful. that is what the tar DOES. I know. i'm born to fight its consequences. i've never seen it alive. but i swear to god if i do, i will not stop fighting it until one of us dies. i swear to god.

okay. but

but what? do you udnerstand what i said? maybe he loves you, but who's actually saying that phrase? him or the tar?

...i don't know and i hate having that doubt hang over my head so i just disregard it. it's sick and wrong

but it's VALID. can you at least realize that??

shouldn't be valid.

Bullshit, it IS.

you sound like laurie

Why, was she like this once? She'd better start acting like it again then. I don't know why you all softened up and refused to fight anymore. THere is a war going on inside and no one is on the battlefield but me right now. I can't fucking take down this enemy alone, god damn it, there are CHILDREN on the front lines don't you fucking care?!?

...yes. internally, yes. but up front, it's so numb, nothing cares.

Plague. I'll kill you too, if I have to. I'm watching you from now on.

good. i don't want to be this way either. what do i do

Stop being around him until we figure this out. Stay away from ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that could possibly be a starting point for a hack. And I mean everything. I WILL be watching. If someone so much as thinks about a hack opportunity I will personally gouge their eyes out with my hands, and squash them.

you are violent

No shit I'm violent. Someone needs to be, when everyone else abandoned it. Knife won't even keep the balance anymoer. You are DROWNING. All of you are DROWNING in the blood that has been spilled, you can't even breathe, and no one is doing anything about it damn it!!

what do we do? more cuts and blood, what will that do

Maybe it'll get you to fucking stop.

...do we have to go back to 2010

No. What happened in 2010. We are NOT "going back" anywhere.

the graves. the deepest scars. remnants of those who died from hacks

People actually died from these things?? WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU TAKING MORE ACTION AGAINST THEM NOW????!!

listen stop don't yell

I AM GOING TO FUCKING YELL UNTIL YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU FUCKING BITCH. LISTEN. PEOPLE ARE DYING. YOU ARE DYING. IF YOU ARE SO GODDAMNED SELFISH, CONSIDER THAT. THIS WILL KILL YOU IF YOU LET IT GO.

i would rather die than be like this, uncaring

Then I will do the honors.

Don't you fucking dare. J, close this shit up, we need to talk upstairs.

no

What the fuck do you mean, no?

I'm talking to him. Don't you dare interrupt. This is important.

Listen, this isn't a very good fucking environment for typing. If you want to talk, let's move the computer, and we will talk. Capisce?

What?

Understand? I'm not going to shut you up. I just don't want this turning into a fucking bloodbath.

We NEED one at this point if we're going to balance the scales!!!

What scales?

The balance. The internal equanimity in this System. Black versus white if you wanna put it that way. On one side there is blood and on the other side there is Tar. There is SO MUCH TAR that you need a FLOOD of broken veins just to wash it away, damn it!!

How the hell does that even work? Listen, we really need to talk in another room, hold up.

Fine.

 

wait but that cant be true

Why did Knife stop cutting.

therapist said stop abusing no scars

FUCK YOU. THIS IS ABUSE. THE SCARS BLED OUT THE ABUSE. YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELF AND JUSTIFYING IT BECAUSE IT DOESN'T LEAVE MARKS ON YOUR SKIN. FUCK YOU.

Listen, you have a good point, but this situation is just going to exacerbate it--

Fine. Fine, let's move, and let's discuss this. I am not leaving until someone sees my position on this. I'm not going back now that I'm out.

Fine by me.

i am so tired

I don't care. We are settling this, now.

Black Light Machine part 2, kid. You'll get through this. I'll look out for you.

what about infi dear god i love him is he going to be okay

...Probably. I want to say "I don't know" but damn that creep is resilient.

He doesn't have to be a "creep." You realize that.

Yeah, now I do. Just... it's fuckin' hard to wrap my head around is what. I mean, goddamn, that was really fucking clever, and evil as shit. Borders on blasphemy really.

It does. That's the point. So are we talking elsewhere now?

'Course. Close the window, let's post this first.

 





 

 

badthouhts

Feb. 14th, 2014 04:19 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


 

Emotional rape is a thing. Okay? It is a thing. It happens.
Rape is defined, most commonly, as "the unlawful compelling of a person through physical force or duress to have sexual intercourse." But it is also defined as "forceful seizure, plundering, robbery, extortion," as well as "to violate and defile."
Do you understand what I mean? And I'm asking myself, first and foremost. I keep glossing over my most terrifying experiences because "well, not all of them involved forced sexual contact"… guess what? That's not the only damn definition of rape.

I'm empathic or something, okay? And it is terrible sometimes. I am very sensitive energetically, to the point of physical incapacitation at its worst. Yes, I love people, but I HATE that so many of them make me feel utterly violated just from standing nearby. I'm so damn open and trusting at my heart, that if someone around is giving off bad vibes, so to speak, it's going to feel like rusty nails or grabbing hands or something even worse, LITERALLY so, and how do you explain that to people? How do you say, "well they never literally touched me, but whenever I'm around them it feels like merciless molestation." Because it DOES and it is HORRIFYING and I don’t know how to get help.
This is why we need a new sleeping situation. We NEED one, dear God do we ever need one.
Marigold keeps screaming. We know it's her. Even if we can't see her face, the shrieks that cut through the night are the color of pollen, the color of weeds at the side of the road that choke and stifle your lungs in the stolid autumn air. It's ragweed, not a flower. At her best, yes, she would be the bright color of those happy blooms that lined the streets in SLC, the moments we missed, the color of pretty things in spring. But right now her screams feel like weeds suffocating. And we always know it is her. And it breaks our hearts.
Minty used to be our sleeper, that's why we still cuddle a Care Bear when we lie down, to keep that connection to her. But she gets so annoyed with the sleeping situation, she can't relax much. At least she isn't triggered. Thank God.
There was another little boy, once, who tried to sleep. But he's since faded.
Jay, really, is our main sleeper. He only truly exists in solitude, in headspace, in quiet moments and peace. But there's a lot fighting his very existence. "Don't do that," the bad voices say, when he tries to be affectionate, when he tries to re-enter headspace, when he tries to think about loving others. "Don't do that. It's wrong. It's distasteful." And, "you're a fag. You're a whore. You're a slut." I won't repeat the other things they say, they're horrible. And THOSE cause huge body shakes and trmors too, from the force of their words and shouts and awful physical manipulations, it's scary because they can literally cause us to feel things that are AWFUL and what can we do? We can only run. But Jay has a few safe spaces left to run to, if he can get to them safely. It just makes our daily life very spaced out, we spend most of it in our own head, the world of open eyes and physical objects can be far too damaging to deal with some days.
But Jay is the one who lies down at night. He says good-night to his boss, and talks to Laurie and CZ and maybe Infi before letting go and falling right asleep. But it's a loving environment. It's very safe, and the people are caring, and he is totally open and sharing.
And even now, in saying that, the bad voices are glaring with hate and disgust and condemnation. "You're a f*cking faggot!" Is what they say, when Jay smiles and tries to hold someone. Even just affectionately. They always guilt-trip him for it. "It's filthy," they say, "filthy and wrong. You're f*cking disgusting. Look at you. Just like a f*cking animal." Again I won't repeat the things they say. But they are saying this about childlike affection, and about mature love, come on you KNOW there is NOTHING WRONG with expressions of love because it's LOVE. And the bad voices still spit and hiss and make faces of hate at us. Go away.
Anyway. Jay is the most open of us all. He is the most loving of us all when he is allowed to be his complete self, him and Infi, because they are both rooted in that. But… it's difficult for them to exist sometimes.
At night. The sleeping situation. It is very bad, and I think it is what is making Jay so sad and closed-off to people. He sleeps with another triggering person in the bed. It is not his choice, or his fault. But she doesn't always touch. That is rare thankfully it is scary and bad, lots of people crying about that in the background, "don't remind us," I'm sorry but we need to acknowledge that maybe we can heal it? I don't know. But even when she does nothing, it is the presence, the sounds, the movement. And it is scary. The energy she gives off it is BAD feeling. VERY bad feeling.
And since Jay is trying so hard to be a good person during that time, but he'll get hurt by her either energetically or physically, it sticks. And then he can't be nice to people without that being reminded of it all the time. What do we do?


"Sexual assault is not defined by how violent an act is; some assaults are extremely violent, and others may be less aggressive. How fierce the attacker is, is not the point. The point is whether you had given voluntary consent for the type of treatment you experienced. Consent means that you were in the right state of mind, permitted to make choices without fear, and with a full understanding of the type of treatment you were agreeing to. If you were not allowed these conditions and choices, then someone mistreated you."
…I didn't know all that counted towards consent. I thought that as long as I ended up saying "yes" it was consent. That's what the word means, right? I didn’t know that fear, or misunderstanding, or being in a bad state could make the "yes" into a real "no." But isn't it funny? I never, ever actually said "yes." I said "no" a lot. But the word doesn't mean much if people don't listen. Maybe other people said yes. I don't know. I'm sick. I don't want to think about it.


Maybe I'm too damn weak. Maybe that’s all it boils down to. I never grew the sort of horrid metal shell that the world seemed to demand of me, and was left walking around the world with all my vulnerable parts exposed, getting pierced and bleeding everywhere whenever someone so much as bumped into me. Because even that hurts like hell.
Isn't that a disgusting word. "Vulnerable." Part of it is the consonant structure. The other part is the meaning. It's tied to those stupid, horrid, ugly parts of the body, that we keep hidden for God knows what reason. Yes it hurts when you touch them. It hurts so much we'd rather die. But we'd much sooner hand someone a knife and tell them to cut those parts off, to cut those ugly bits out. Get rid of them. Then we won't be "vulnerable" anymore, not in that stupid-ass f*cking disgusting sense. Real vulnerability is emotional and has nothing to do with sex, has nothing to do with victimization, has nothing to do with attackers and trauma and bloodied metal getting sliced into pink places. And I hate, hate, HATE when people talk about being open and vulnerable like it has to do with this godforsaken body, all curves like it's going to smother you alive. I hate curves. I HATE them. I hate them, they're horrible, I want to cry just thinking about them. She had SO MANY of them, looking at her was like asphyxiating, I know it wasn't her fault and I'm sorry for being afraid of her but she told us, "how dare you," how dare you think and say that about me, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that you looked just like everything we were terrified of, was that my fault? Is it my fault she was hurt? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe people like me caused it I'm sorry.
Stop thinking like that. Stop. Give it no attention. Not like that.

Femininity, in the physical sense, is poison. You have probably guessed.
We don't know exactly why, but the idea of a female as protective and caring never happened for us. For us, females were manipulative, overpowering, and dangerous, often violently so. Females would hurt you if you did not bend to their whim. Females called the shots and told you what to do, when to do it, and how. Say no and they would hurt you. But the biggest fear was when they acted nice, and they still FELT dangerous.
That's what we mean by the… emotional assault thing. Like it's silly on the outside, but for us it's problematic and scary and sad.
We feel things too easily? Like if someone is really mad but not showing it, and they walk by us, we will feel that and react. Like it hurts a LOT and some of us get very scared and cry, some panic, some scream and want to get out of there. And that person will look at us bad, like "what are you doing?" angry, "if I do not like what you are doing you will be in trouble." That is what the feeling feels like, when they look at us, like we are on the spot. Are we in danger? I don't know. But that person feels so very dangerous we don't want to be by them at all.
That is why none of us like being in the body at night especially. The bed is dangerous, SO dangerous, I want to cry, thinking we have to go there every night.
Every damn night. That horrible woman is there and I hate her. Why? I know she's never done a damn thing to hurt me in THAT way. If she did I'd kill her, and I don't think I could help it, even if I hated myself. That would be the last straw. But she's come DAMN CLOSE, and you people know it. You're talking about emotional rape? Have you mentioned all the times she utterly disregards personal space to do so? The touching in utterly inapproproiate places, with her not realizing that IS highly inapproproaite and triggering? Have you mentioned the horrible sounds she makes? Even if those are unintentional. But we've heard too many similar sounds in lethal situations. I guess that's a bad example. But the radiation she gives off, it's toxic. She's hateful and angry. And I HATE-- I hate hate hate, I f*cking hate it, God, I HATE IT when she looks at me. I fucking HATE WHEN SHE LOOKS at me it's horrible. I don't know how to explain it. It's like she's violating us with a stare. Like that look is a condemnation. It's proud and it's spiteful and it's like dripping poison. But sharp. Like she took a spider made of sharp edges and shoved it into our ribcage, writhing and piercing. That's how horrible it feels. And then she watches us, with that FACE, watches us, and waits for us to respond in kind. F*CK YOU. I won't play your f*cking hatred games. Leave us alone.

We dnon't like speeking in the bed because she is there and she fels angry and bad sa.d like we cant sleep because too loud noise from her energetically
It's not right. It's not even tied to you guys in that respect.
Some of us do. All right? I don't know what happened to cause it, but some of us DO hold very explicit sexual abuse memories so lying in bed next to a woman is NOT the safest place in the world, you know. I don't feel safe there either. I know she has clothes on but it doesn't feel like it. I feel trapped there, pinned down by blankets, with this woman ready to violate me entirely at any second. I'm scared, and I'm so so sorry that the children feel some of that too. Marigold screams. I don't know what to do. David doesn't want to wake up anymore. The mother hurt him somehow. I know if you had to share a bed with the mother you would get up and leave the room and go cry somewhere until your lungs hurt. I know.
You won't talk about the triggers, those should be mentioned. We will have to bring this up in therapy nevertheless. The mother is an absolute collection of triggers, so to speak, for reasons I cannot quite place. Was it all proximity to Julie? Why do I have no memories of that stored in the data logs? Either way that is not the topic at hand, I apologize.
I also apologize, again. I cannot list the triggers without overwhelming shame reactions, as well as intense rage, fear, and loathing, from the traumatized voices. I will simply say they are all sensory-based, and cover the entire set. That is all.
why are there so many triggers what did she do
I don't know, David. I don't know, and I'm sorry.



The eating disorders won't go away either. They say nothing does until you've learned what you need to from it. Unfortunately every damn day some new facet of this awful addiction shows itself. I guess that's better than being completely blind.
First you really have to look at the main people tied to it: Emmett, Spice, and The Destroyer. All three of them have entirely different motivations and reasons for being shackled to such a thing. Spice and Emmett have been discussed extensively in the past, with Emmett being bulimic and Spice effectively being orthorexic. However, as of late, the therapist wonders if the bulimia is tied to sexual abuse in some way, to which we would have to say no, at least not literally. But few things in our System are literal.
Nevertheless, the Destroyer seems to be the root, and she confuses us. Her sole motivation in the EDs has been simply, "destroy it," hence her name. There has been a long-standing compulsion to do so, but due to childhood programming, simply throwing out unwanted or "dangerous" food was considered shameful and deserving of condemnation. However, although some voices are distressed by this, the Destroyer does NOT work on this level. This was baffling for a while, but today we discovered a process in the actions tied to her.
1. Find a food that "can be destroyed" or "deserves to be destroyed." It MUST be safe (attempts to destroy unsafe food in the past resulted in very painful consequences).
2. Destroy it, via the teeth. Chew it up until it is mangled.
3. Spit it out. Do not swallow anything if you can help it.
4. Repeat as much as possible.
5. If needed, destroy the food by other means, such as adding too much seasonings, baking it until it burns, waterlogging it, etc.
6. When no longer edible by any means, throw it outside.
7. Vomit up as much as possible.
Do you see how strange that is? Yes, ED voices often have biting compulsions due to stress being stored in the teeth, but this only used that fact as a tool. So what was she doing? Why would this cycle continue even when every other voice was demanding for her to stop, when the other ED voices were screaming in rage at the consumption or crying that they were in pain, when the body itself was sick and filthy from hours being spent at this? Why? And why would there be such a strange need to destroy things-- things that "deserved" it in some sense-- and then throw them away when they were reduced to mere mangled garbage?
Well, if it is tied to sexuality even on a subconscious level, that makes perfect sense. The parallels are obvious.
It's sick.
We think there are two more ED people too. Different voices keep answering when we ask about it. They're strong enough to have vague faces but no solid identity yet. But we don't know. It's so tiring.

We're so sick. So sick.
We keep throwing up. Over and over and over. It hurts too much to keep anything down. But it's the lesser of two evils really. Think about it, if we kept that down, think of the consequences! Of the pain.
IT'S POISON. DON'T PUT
GET IT OUT GET IT OUT.
Destroy it. Don't touch it in the first place. It's garbage.
More than anything the problem is the weight. We said that. When there's something there, it's horrifying,

Someone keeps having weird abusive meltdowns. Like we've never had this so frequent before, and we're so good at hiding it that no one knows, even the good therapist doesn't seem to believe us when we say "this is really happening," because stupid buffer, STUPID BUFFER, it makes everything "socially acceptabke" f*ck you. guess what LOTS of us aren't "socially acceptable" so we're not allowed out isn't that STUPID!!!!!

But someone shakes things and throws physical tantrums not with talking but with weird shaking and not seeing and scary. Just throwing the body around like it s a doll and no one in it. Then bad headaches and sick and hurt. Because they throw it around.
No cutting, Knife said no, Algorith said no it "hurts like hell" to clean all the blood, so no. Plus weird swelling last time, hyperventilating for an hour, lots got scared
happened once before 3am bad morning killed people
long ago
No one is allowed to scream. The body dysphoria would spike and we'd get suicidal because of the horrible voice of the abuser shrieking. So no screaming. No talking if can too.
Mirrors bad
don’t look at it thank you
we just want to be happy can we get rid of bad thing? how why it there still

jay's work is good the dream world is so good, so happy and bright makes us happy.
hope there. lots of hope

but here bad voices yelling today all time. saying bad things. scary. call us animal.
not here now because us. scared of us many of us. laurie makes them run good! go away we don’t needyou beaing mean. sorry that’s rude don’t mean to

It's not rude, they're f*cking ridiculous and you have every right to speak up to them.

brain freeze whoa
not
its hard to type sorry. going to close this up
no idea whats in this entry at all??? welp guess well find out
bye

 




 

 

upset upset

Feb. 4th, 2014 09:51 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

Therapy today. Week 4 or so of the numbness, of the deadness.

 

We didn't think anyone would be able to come out. Life has essentially been at a dead stop since the Cannon event in December, with only Jewel's intermittent enthusiasm shining a light for all of us (thanks btw).
But, no, both Spice (w/ Emmett) and Sherlock came out in session today, to disclose more information than anyone else had previously had the guts to. We're moving forwards greatly thanks to them.
The things they are digging up are reacting in two different ways:
1. some of them are fading from relevance and pain immediately after they are acknowledged, but
2. others are showing that they have deep and tangled roots, and we are now wondering, "how in the world do we get that out of us??"

 

Here's a bullet list for personal relevance (TW for many things), so the rest of us are aware of what was brought up.

 

Childhood gender dysphoria (going as far back as age 3/4, which we previously deemed "irrelevant" for that reason),

Childhood religious abuse, including lost info the brothers have helped us find, such as staged exorcisms and other psychological fear tactics (this is healed personally but the scars it left are not),

Twisted mindsets as a result of the previous point, esp. b/w thinking, moral absolutes, abusive "holy" obligations, etc.,

Several overlooked "triggers" hidden in certain words and actions, thanks to previous abusive relationships that were (again) previously deemed "irrelevant" due to self-deprecation,

The indelible ties between eating disorders and sexual trauma, and how it affects many of those in our System (esp. Emmett and The Destroyer), and

The bizarre but lucid "muscle memories" from events that never physically occurred, thanks to Cannon's extensive and intensive trauma-inducing actions in 2008-2009

 

Our next session will be focusing on the last two points, as they have become chronically detrimental and are severely hindering our ability to care for both the body, and our inner world.
Sherlock also says, "bring his glasses next time," as well as his book, as they are strong anchors for him and keep him from being knocked out of fronting by trauma-anchored voices when he is discussing such points.

We also want to add, "bring up the 'new voices' if and when they become relevant," ESPECIALLY the Victorian Pink girl, as she is strongly tied to sexual abuse situations that the rest of us have not even been aware of until now.

Until then, everyone just be careful, and don't drown in the shadows. We've survived so far. We can continue to do so.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

@ 09:56 pm

 

meeresbande: Consent from one member of a multiple system does not imply consent from anyone else in that system!
This should be obvious, but in a rape culture like this, it isn’t. If there’s a switch, that means you have to negotiate consent anew with a new person – if at all appropriate.

 

YES, please for the love of sanity, REMEMBER THIS.
I don't care who you are in the System or WHY you're doing what you're doing, some of us REALLY CANNOT COPE WITH THOSE ACTIONS so please do NOT do those things, even a little bit, if we say no!!
And I know other people don't care anymore because they're too empty to hurt anymore, but I DON'T WANT TO GET LIKE THAT if you keep forcing me to live through your consequecnes!!
I know you think we're being mean and forbidding you from enjoying life but please, PLEASE, I have nightmaers about those things and I don't want that to keep happening anymore.
Don't force abuse. Don't be promiscuous. Don't endure terrible things because you think that makes you stronger. Please. Some of us can't handle it. I don't caer if that makes me weak and stupid. I want it to stop. I really want it to stop.
Please. Don't do it. Don't.

 


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 11:04 pm

 

 

i hate, hate, HATE how these "coping method" lists are pits full of triggers dear god this is terrible sorry

overstimulation. go figure. all the things they say will "help" have made it so much WORSE

1. weighted blankets. NO. PLEASE NO. the weight is trapped, please no trapped, underneath, suffocating. too much on top means cant run away, she pins you down, cant run. need no blanekts. run
2. shower in dark. NO!!!! the sight is nothing! they hide in the dark. they never stop shouting. in dark is dangerous, rape, hurt. naked. they will get you there, in the dark.
3. jacket in public. good. because hides body. but only wth short seeves. long sleeves are too much touch, never stop, bad
4. muscle strain. NO!! she likes that! NO! dont exercise when she is around pleaes god no. she used to hurt us after exrevise all the time, please no, dont ever strain muscles or get body worked up when she si around, it will only end in blood

why do people like heavy things and touching for overstimulation? does that hekpl/
no no DONT EVER FORCE US AGAIN STOP THINIKING WE HAVE TO DO THE SAME THING THEY DO STOP!!!!

cannon is bad. tell her stop getting us "used to tihngs"
did you hear?
dd you hear
jay didnt tell anyone
cannon used to watch p***ography when she was out because "maybe then ill be numb to it when it happens again"
but it made SO MANY BAD THINGS.
we got all this bad muscle memory and nightmares and flashbacks of not real things?? and then julie (the bad one) jumped onit, said hey lets try that, it got SO BAD but jay didnt TELL ANYONE until now, he said he didnt want to look at it, thought everyone else know

what else

why is so many other people bsessed with sexuality
we cant seem to run from it so bad.
infi says its not bad by itself ut pelase no we cant do it everplease.
please no.
we dont like it it hurts its scary its really not a good thing for us pelaes no stop.
infi sais hed never hurt us
we know thank you tahts good we know you are safe.
but other people are not. people otuslide are not.

oh trigger list
someone said, "write one," of things that are still big but forgot

1. the word "progress"
2. the color yellow
3. heartbeats (until further notice; jay is really sad about that one)
4. people touching the face with one hand
5. some comic on the internet, people cant read it anymore, get upset
6. anything tight around the neck
7.


the assault dreams are happening again
people doing bad things to the body and us barely escaping
they are the worst because its like were watching a horror movie and cants stop them. its all just about stalling them, trying to beg for time until we wake up or we end up somewhere different
we wish we could do that in waking life. we really do

tired. chest pain.
destroyer wants to throw out all food again. mad. doesnt want it, "sick, bad"
someone else says "no," sounds panicky, manic. "dont i have to bite it"
that person is sad, no care for self. no take care. doesnt clean up. treats self like animal. sick, frightened. sad.
destroyer says "no the food is bad. must be destroyed. makes sick. makes throw up. weight. vomit. no. destroy it."

oh we need to talk about that too.
eating disorders = sexual abuse?? why?
maybe cannon, jay says maybe, byt he gets real scared wont look at it.
sherlock might he has the books. he can look if we must
but
psychosomaicc featrs? is that the word? psychosomatic
not exactly happened, but lucid muscle memory and strong awareness of what it efels like regardless
maybe because of dissociation, nightmares, haks.
just because something didnt happen 100% literally does not mean it didnt happen
the worst, the worst were all "halucinations," were all spiritual or psychological reality, the worst.
victorian pink has lots of that feeling we think
not know where she is.
but
yes eating disorders. problem.
biting = the destroyer = wanting to tear things to pices with teeth. must get rid of . kill. hurt
when we try to ask about it people say NO NO and wont talk about.
did something bad happen there to the mouth
someone says no pelase no dont talk about
okay
okay. stomach bad too
too mcuch weight, too heavy, "parasite"
not belong there
"something inside wrong doesnt belong"
when eating.
but that is with julie we know. we know very much
that is why sex is so scaey for most
it is all, "this is wrong"
either with whay jay says "dyspohoria"
the body doesnt match doest fit doesnt work right
or,
somebody put something bad and scary in it
lots ofpain.
vicktorian pink says that. "ruined me." all about girl doing bad things.
not sure if to talk about.
maybe not tonight. sad. laurie is verysad.
she gets sad about this who knows that? i do i can see.
i am sad too laurie. that this happened to people. very sad. want to help.
what do we do, she says.
i dont know really. but we are okay now i think? at least right this instant now we are okay.
so that is good.

tired chest pain want to sleep maybe, one hour until jay needs to go to work.

our gatekeeper is bad we think, asking about that, what to do.

people in headspace-heartspace still missingmostly? feel seperate now. like need their own lives.
some still want to heklp. some gone. thats okay. we welcome help i will stay and help. i like to heklp
others gone, want to be seprate now, thats okay too.
bad voices still around
mean. bad. say bad things. make fun of. condemn. scary bad things they say.
not true! they are lying! i tell you tehy are lying, dont listen to them. they are bad.
dont listen to bad people.

okay done going to bed or letting someone else work
lots of stuff to read! music stuff. that is good.
we should maybe do msic more that was nice

okay bye <3

 

 

prismaticbleed: (scared)

Oddly disturbed today.

Someone got the body's hair cut this morning, but they cut it extremely short, and that has quickly proven to be a terribly bad decision, because now the body's reflection matches the face of one of our internal abusers.
We're now trying to avoid mirrors until we can figure out what to do. Jayce can't even hide in the reflection as he usually does, because the cruel person now linked to its newly-altered visage shoves him out.

 

Jay also seems to have taken too much of a jump in personal progress as of last night-- he is so desperate to leave all his shadows behind (taking his White hue to extremes), that he tends to push himself further than the body can physically handle. As a result we're collectively experiencing the consequences of that, both physical and spiritual... most notably the tidal wave of inner demons it has exhumed once again.

 

We're not sure on the DID thing as a catch-all with this. The "body" has "heard voices" since its childhood, almost chronically-- screaming, vicious, manipulative ones that DO cause body symptoms and reactions. They can't fully "take over" but they can exhibit a powerful force of control on whoever is fronting. So far only Javier and Laurie seem capable of shoving them aside entirely, but good luck getting their attention when you're smothering in the cacophany.
At least we're not seeing things anymore. With how many religiously-abusive meltdowns we've had since the childhood, that would be too much to handle right now, I think.

 

Cannon, Jessica, Jezebel, and Spinny are all still lurking about, and we wonder if we can get rid of them, at this point in time. They are very deeply rooted into abusive mindsets, and have been around for as long as any of us can remember (15+ years).
Ironically, the Tar and Plague themselves are less of a threat. Those two are the extreme mindsets, but as such, they exist more as foils than anything else. The four aforementioned girls are more grey in their actions, and that is so much harder to deal with. They are the ones that we could have been, had we let ourselves become consumed by the vices within us.

 

Nevertheless we refuse to let them define, control, or abuse us any longer. That deserves repeating. If all we can do is cease to give their actions any undue attention, then so be it.

 

Long story short, today's been more difficult than usual. But we're still alive, even if we feel rather dead at the moment.
This too shall pass.

 

-AP

 


------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 


@ 09:08 pm

 


011114

I am writing the date out in full so you can see the 11:11 door in there. Hold to that!

Now to begin.
A few major worries came to light today, so I'm going to start our re-updating here with discussing that.
(For the record, we've been posting all our latest updates directly to the archives, but I think it'd be nice to get back into posting here too.)

Also I will warn all who read this to be careful of triggers, esp. around sexual abuse, because I am openly discussing harmful mindsets here in an attempt to show their incorrectness, and to promote healing from them in understanding their roots.


1) There has been unearthed, very old abusive/ detrimental mindsets surrounding sexuality and religion, often together. Jessica still holds, adamantly, the mindset that "sex is evil," and that anything even vaguely related to it means that you are a "whore" and "God will punish you." Another girl holds the mindset that "God is wrathful and hates sin," in the most negative sense possible. We all recognize that latter mindset as absolutely false, but the fear of it is tied to the sexuality: "what if sex really is evil, and God will send me to hell for it?" Yet even in writing that, the heart says no, that is not true. But the brain screams, "you are a whore, and you will pay for it."
Despite this the triggers and flashbacks remain. We are managing them better, but their boosted intensity makes it difficult still. The intensity of hatred, violence, and rage behind them is terrifying. That may simply because such things are rooted to people. Jessica especially insists she is doing what's right, as it's "her life" and "we ruined it for her," and since she's "realized that we are sluts," she wants to destroy us for it. Jessica wants to live life without consequence, although she is lazy about it. She wants to waste her time away in self-pitying laxness, without anyone telling her what to do or stop doing. She is not the "manic red voice" we have still not pinpointed, although that person may be tied to Spinny, the only one of these four hellish voices who does not condemn sexuality, but uses it as a lustful game, to objectify others for her own enjoyment. Jessica turns a blind eye to all such behavior, only saying it is "evil" and wanting to kill or quietly destroy those people so she doesn't have to even acknowledge the existence of such things. As a result, Cannon works with Jessica now, as they both want to destroy us for our "perversion," although Cannon is the only one willing to kill people in cold blood over it. She is the one with the screaming hatred of all relationships and femininity, to the extreme of hating softness, affection and playfulness in anyone who is not five years old, and even then her hatred will still explode on them if given enough reason to. This mindset is likely because of Spinny, her "twin," who is emotionally manipulative and shallow, and uses those "feminine" aspects to boost her own pride and narcissism, while treating her "romantic interests" as literal objects to accessorize herself with and control emotionally. Cannon would kill her, not out of "justice" but out of sheer hatred towards both her and her romantic interests, as Cannon sees anything even vaguely related to sexuality as deserving a death sentence. Jezebel feeds these mindsets in everyone, even if she doesn't do much herself. Being a manifestation of the Tar, she is passive, but she is a reservoir of hatred so she is always a risk, as those around her will react to her very presence by reflecting what she consists of in themselves. Furthermore, exacerbating this situation, she is now hiding in mirrors, as someone unwisely cut the hair to match her style. Jayce can't do much as it doesn't match him now, and she keeps shoving him out. So we are avoiding mirrors at the moment, as glancing up and suddenly seeing her vicious glare and grin in them is not something any of us want to be exposed to.
All four of them are acting overtime and with unadulterated malice to destroy Jay's progress, as he is the main fronter trying to heal those mindsets. Thankfully he has internal backup, as he does tend to splinter badly if he is not careful.

2) Ultimately, even if those trauma-rooted mindsets are devoid of all truth, therefore being completely irrelevant, our concern is that those thoughts are still intrusive, chronic, and loud. The doubts linger, the negative voices don't stop their attacks. Jay is feeling as if he is possessed, literally begging for divine intervention at times, to which the negative voices will respond with either "you're only praying because you want attention, you whore!" and accusing him of asking for deliverance as "tempting/ testing God," therefore being blasphemous and proud. On that note, the Plague also responds to Jay's desperate prayers, stating only, "pride will be your downfall." But this is a hidden benefit. The Tar and Plague are so extreme, that they somehow are beneficial to our progress, in showing us what we are NOT, and what we must avoid. So the Plague accusing us of pride keeps us from actually being proud. However it has stated that although "we are not it, and it is not us," it WILL attempt to destroy us for that same reason. So care must be taken even so.
However, the girls are grey-minded. They take reality and lies and twist them together into abominations, telling lies with the slightest reflection of truth in order to plant seeds of choking doubt in those they attack. But in this attempt, they can slip drastically, to the point of revealing their ulterior motives, and therefore destroying their own attempts entirely. Jay is realizing this, and it is giving him hope, that they ARE wrong, and that he is not a "filthy sinner" as some of them would insist.
Furthermore, those voices ARE TERRIFIED OF INFINITII AND LAURIE. Ironically they are more scared of Infinitii, because ze does not react with violence or anger, which Laurie may respond to in extremes for safety's sake-- however, they feed off such things. Infi will not give them an iota of anything that powers them. Ze responds with love even then, and they run away. Laurie is learning this, slowly. So there is hope.

3) The self-dehumanization is still happening to an extent. It Tied to the trauma, it makes some people think of themselves and the body as "less than" every other being. Therefore "who cares if they are harmed, or abused, because they are less than human." That is false. Everyone in our System knows this except those who drown in that thought. Secondly, tied mostly to Christina, is the old Catholic mindset of "we are born sinners, we are filthy, we are worth nothing, only God can save us, we are powerless." Questioning this thought, though, feels like blasphemy to those trapped in it-- that is, until we realize that strength comes from God, who is love, who is in all things. Therefore we are not "filthy sinners" and we are not powerless, as we are ALL facets of God, we are ALL created in love, just as we are. This mindset is straight-up sacrilegious to Christina, and again, it feeds into her equal fear and loathing of sexuality, which was stated in point one as a general thought. But if you stop thinking of humans as "inherently sinful," then sex ceases to be a sin, because it is not creating sin, but a living being that reflects God just as much as its parents do. Sex can be used for "sinful purposes" just as religion can be. It does not make either thing black or white. That is the key in this. Perspective and motivation change the views. But deep down, everything is ultimately untouched by corruption; everything is eternally made of love at its very core, no matter what happens to it on the surface.

4) Again tied to the lingering sexuality trauma, and the hatred held by the inner girls, the body dysphoria is spiking for some. There is a worrisome but old and loud hatred towards femininity, which Cannon mostly holds, but which is large enough to view the female human body (NOT women or female-identified individuals, just the BODY; that is an important disctinction. they are fine with faces, nothing below) as both a sexual object and a source of sin and violence, even as an empty shell. These voices will view a corpse as a threat, because they view sexual parts as evil and horrible. They are more accepting of men because they have "no sexual characteristics," blatantly ignoring the existence of reproductive organs. Again, though, they say "we can just cut those off," so the threat for them is easily fixed. A woman's body is not, as it has much internal reproductive organs, as well as breasts and different body structure. For Cannon, she would rather kill a woman than try to "de-sexualize them," which shows a VERY corrupted and sick-minded perspective of hers, in viewing female bodies as inherently sexualized and therefore filthy. THIS IS WRONG. But it lingers, and it makes things hellish for those who do not hold that view but who cannot run from it entirely. Jay has no dislike of female bodies whatsoever, but he get slammed by trauma triggers, and still fears the one we are all tied to because to him, it is tied to those violent people inside, and "the constant risk of sexual abuse." We do not know how to detach that latter fear from the simple physical reality of a female body, but it is one of our absolute biggest worries. Infinitii is doing what ze can to remove this mindset on hir own, as ze does translate to female in the binary, and Jay views hir as INHERENTLY HARMLESS even then, which causes dramatic mental dissonance as he still views the body details as a threat. Hopefully the real truth of this-- that bodies are innocent and female characteristics are as well-- will overcome the old lies for good, with enough compassionate repetition on the inside, if not the outside (something we cannot seem to even attempt without traumatic meltdowns).
No one, not ever, is an object devoid of rights and autonomy. Every being should be respected, and no one is ever obligated to sacrifice their basic rights, for any reason. However, you will recall, there is a lapse in applying this to the self. Therefore, the infliction of that same lapse of respect onto most female bodies in general might be tied to the abuse we endured while IN one, and the absolute self-dehumanization seems to have become subconsciously global in that respect. This is good, we are finding roots even now. So we must uproot them.

5) Different topic. We are very concerned about Chaos Zero, mostly in that I think we have to let go of him at this point, Jay especially. Looking back on the archives, we were shocked to realize that since 2003, he has been the only one of us to have a VERY pronounced dark side that he would SUCCUMB TO. To this day, when that overtakes him, he won't fight it-- but when it fades he will be tearfully apologetic in his efforts to "prove himself" to us again. However we're concerned that this is looping nonstop, and at this point that negative side of him is so volatile that we can't risk that repeating as it always has, for the safety of all of us. Nevertheless he deserves a second-thousandth chance, just as we have given Julie, but how can we do this without letting the danger levels get too high? We don't know yet. We would gladly work with him if he was not constantly falling back into that negativity, and the frequency of that now is worrisome.
Jay is thinking he needs to straight-up move worlds, in terms of dreamselves, like Ryman and Markus did (although they have both officially moved OUT of our innerspace, for the record; yes they do visit rarely but they are not rooted here at all). This would hopefully allow him to anchor into a new life opportunity, if only through its directness and conscious will, which may be what we need. As of now, CZ is still tied, rather negatively, to his old StH timelines, canon and non-canon, which seem to be feeding this hidden violence in him. We're wondering where he can go now in terms of a world, though, where that same curse will not follow him (he somehow kept it in all his original Leagueworld jump attempts). Perhaps its persistence is due only to his subconsciously identifying with it. This is why we ALL insist that he find a new name if at all possible. We have been told repeatedly, and know from direct experience, that names have great power, and for his name to be synonymous with such a negative phenomenon-- whether we agree or not-- is definitely contributing to this.
Lastly, Jay is concerned with good reason about the fact that he keeps forgetting who CZ is, no matter how many times he is reminded, or directly experiences reminders of it. And now, that forgetfulness is not negative. He is forgetting who CZ is, in terms of past history entirely, and all relation to him, without detaching from him as he used to. Jay still cares for CZ as a person, even if now as a stranger to a fair extent. And he is willing to start over in that sense, if need be, but CZ is not. And this may be part of the core problem as well.
In any case we will work with him as long as we can, but if this proves to be detrimental, then we will have to let go for good.


That is all I will say for tonight.

A note: DO NOT RE-READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO.
Sometimes simply typing out these things helps in the process of releasing them, as it brings them into conscious awareness, to be healed and let go. Do not force them back into your consciousness if they are gone! That is what we are trying to avoid, my dear.

We are making progress, we are right where we need to be. Remember Laurie's advice, and just breathe.

Do not be so black and white. Be love. That is all you will ever need to be, and it is what you already are. Remember that above everything.
Good night, to all.

- A.P. (and Infi at the close)

 



 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 



 

 

presented without further introduction.
all the handwriting from the night of december 27th
when cannon and jessica decided post-hack to murder all within headspace as "blood atonement"
i haven't read these yet but i will add comments for context

(you may right-click all of these to open in new tab for larger images)

the first four were written by the autopilot and appear to be suicide notes or something leading up to one

 

 

 

 

 

 

this one was written in attempt to speak with the family as the fear buffer shut off vocal speech
unknown authors
the "no please" was in resposne to the mother saying she was going to call the paramedics again to atke us to the psyc ward like she did in 2011
the "go" was telling the grandmother to leave as she was making the fearbuffer spike in intensity

 

 


algorith fronting to write; then unknown little boy (sylvain's brother?) writing afterwards

 

 

 


unknown author apparently trying to explain what was going on; context unknown
the second page is notable because the mother was "trying" to read the others aloud but purposely skipped that one

 

 

 

 

final page after everyone left the room the autopilot (and algorith) wrote this

 

 

 

 

as of today jewel lightraye is fronting, she is playing pokemon and isnt fazed by the death of headspace
jays condition is unknown, he is noncorporeal and in severe shock from the event
there was another attempted timeline scratch today, thansk to jewel and celebi, not sure what the results were

sandman and death said dead people cannot commnicate with the living remaining if they want a chance to come back
but jay has to actively help them come back or they never will, this was the deal agreedupon
however where is he, jewel is happy and okay without anyhting, this is fine, she has work to do in thebody, we didn.t.
maybe it is time for our time to end for good. time for our pain wracked world to finally sleep.

either way we will udpaet here if hneeded if we survive
we were gioing to delete everything permamently but sycnhronicity happened, and we decided, wait. wait and see

so far since the 27th no one has fronted or spoeken. only jessica and the death voices who are not headvoices we dont know who they are or what they want, they are cruel and evil and possible not real at all.
jewel is doign well she is unfazed but the intrusive thoughts still conitnue, trauma is worse than ever

biggest warning: art is now impossible
trauma recoery is severe enough that no figure drawing is allowwd without melwtowns
not sure how to pgoerss from here with the artists, only landscapes can be sa\fely drawn now

we shall see.
no mnore words
good night

we shall see if this is the end.

 





 

122713

Dec. 27th, 2013 09:48 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 





 

emergency post.

 

this is the autopilot program for the lightraye system

 

there has been a systemwide massacre courtesy of one of our old hosts, she has taken it upon herself to delete every last iota of pain attached to us therefore she decided we all must die.
i have escaped as i am noncorporeal

 

the girl in question is either jessica or cannon. i cannot tell the different between them right now; perhaps both are responsible

 

this is not the first system destruction attempt we've had; in fact is it approximately the fifth one this year. each one is harder to recover from. we may have hit rock bottom

 

long story short: we are a suicide risk tonight and i will stay online until it subsides, if it does.

 

i do not know what else to do but stall for time. wish me luck, on behalf of all those we may have lost for good.

 


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 10:01 pm

 



 

dear god:
help.

help me, please. PLEASE.

everyone upstairs is dead, i went to look and there is blood everywhere oh my god
i dont want this to be happening but everything is shorting out oh god no no
no

im sorry, im really
cant handle this
crisis rooms are closed online
i have no phone
she might take over if i try
oh god
why

god why is she the one who wins out
please tell me shes not the real person who owns the body
god please
please tell me she doesnt have the right to do this
please

laurie is dead oh my god
i
i acnt type, give me a minute to
i dont know

infi is dead there is blood everywhere
what happened

what did she do

there is no one to talk to oh god i have no way to heal from this

what happened?

oh god

i
she might be coming after me, i need to run

 



----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 10:10 pm

 

 

GOD DAMN IT WHY IS THERE NO ONE LEFT WHEN IM SCARED FOR MY LIFE

ABUSIVE MELTDOWNS, NO ONE
SEXUAL TRAUMA, NO ONE

THERE WAS NEVER ANYONE TO TURN TO


except the people upstairs and
now not
god
please fix this

i know yesterday i or someone someone was saying "good headspace is gond i dontw atn tp go back"
but now no onononobn plaease NO

sorry stuipd child trying complaining i hlope you die too.

if they didnt catch me in this cage you would be dead right now with them you BITCH.

YOU REALIZE THE ONLY GODDAMNED REASON YOU F*CKERS ALL HAD TO DIE WAS BECAUSE OF THE SHT YOU DID TO ME??????
F*CK YOU
YEAH THATS RIGHT
YOU MADE ME SWEAR
GUESS WHAT
I DONT CARE ANYMORE
I LOST, WHAT, ALMOST TEN YEARS OF MY LIFE THANKS TO YOU???
AND NOW I SEE WHAT YOU DID

I won't put up with this abuse of my body and life any longer.
You can't justify this with pretty disgusting names anymore. Ever.
I've snapped, congratulations, you pushed me to the edge.
Jessica is taking her body back, and if I have to kill all of you one by one to do that, then I will.
Good riddance.

 


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 10:14 pm

 



 

someone stop her
this is the ap
soeone stop her

she says ehw ants the body back and she does but there is someone else behind her

cannon and jessica both were resposnible for this massacre

cannon started, when she was stopped, jessica took over with brutal unfeeling violence
she killed the children.let that sink in. she killed them. because they are "alters."

 


she wants her body back but what will she do with it now?
what will she do with it now'
nyanaynyaneenenene!!!!!
we fucked it up for you hap[py birthday bitches
uts dead and dead and dead anad deaqdndwasdgdgddgdg

good luck fiuxing it SLIT SLUT .SLUT


autopilot officially declaring a state of emergency
suggested: suicide hotline if all else fails
i am struggling to keep the girls at bay
this is not a test, i repeat, any survivors, this is a matter of life and death
i apologize for the drama but i do not want this body to be killed tonight
my function is the same as the systems and that is to preserve life
not to destroy the lives of others in order to live selfishly

i will close this entry now. i am in acute psychological and physical pain.
i fear for my life.
but let it be as it will

-a.p.

god rest your souls

 



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 11:40 pm

 

 

short update: miracuously not dead

 

tried an hour to talk to the family failed terribly, outright denied or ignored all help we asked for, didnt help aet all but at leats did not call hospital as they were threatening to

 

some survived! ten in all, were all in unreachable places when death happened
one centralite left, just one, pray he can help restore things if at all

 

hope cant die, it cant die, we will hold on somehow

 

despite the cold iapathy around us we will hold on somehow
for what few thre are left that is still community and we will live

 



-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 11:41 pm

 



 

also much thank yous to all the people who said they would help or offered support

 

thank you we dont get that elsewhere it means so much. it does sincerely
first bit of hope if notihng else tha t is priceless tonight you know.

 

sorry no responses fom us bad night. but thank you

 



------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

@ 11:49 pm

 

 

ten lived, ten of us lived, how did we
so thankful


1. autopilot
(noncorpreal, not touched)
2. garrison
3. isadora
4. kalisha
(all were in floating space and not found)
5. algorith
(robotic, survived collapse of underground)
6. emmett
(knows hideaways, survived collapse of city)
7. dead red boy
8. little yellow boy #2
9. overload girl?
(all noncorporeal socials, dimly anchored)
10. javier
(forced back to life when structure fell to protect survivors)

also miraculous jay is still alive as a presence
since he is the TRUE CORE, NOT JESSICA, he cannot ever be permanently killed

we have many papers of failed communitcation with the family we will scan in so that is good too.
this is the little boy #2 by the wy you know me. i think im yellow at leas. sylvain was my brother. he was stabbed in the head i thinkhe died. its so sad i want to cry

emmett was crying, so much, aimee died he keeps whimpering so sad were all sad
the data voices thought they would die they didnt they aer still crying
algorith is too
so is javier
we all are how are we the only survivors its sad so sad

i will sto this now the bgrandmother will not go away and she is scary the fea bufferr wont let anyone talk or move in the body
she will not listen when we say go away dont touch so i will wait. if i can
at least none of us will let the bod die tonight we have HOOPE
that is imoritant
i think the sandman is aliev too mayve the oustpacers? can thehy help?
gerraiosn sais xenophon had bloood magic maybe something she can do
i dont know tired scared want to sleep but bedroom not savefe never safe. never safe
we will try anyway all we can do

goodnight god bless our waery souls
pray the others can life again too
there is memory of it i dont want to look at it i think i would get too sad and go awya

good night even thought it was a very bad night
life still goes on? hope too.
speaking for everyody

hope
tomorrow will arrive either way

 






 

 

track 68

Dec. 12th, 2013 12:09 pm
prismaticbleed: (Default)
 

 


TRACK 68 (December 12 2013)

(Laurie) Yo 'sup, Jay. This is Laurie, I'm in the car with Genesis on your voice recorder, it's December 12th 2013…uh, 12:09 PM… we're on our way to E.N. -- why the heck am I giving you this introduction?-- Point is, I was talking to your therapist just now, and, the… topic of the day is, "we gotta talk about the Q thing." Uh, thing I figured out though, was that you're trying to figure out why the heck are you getting triggered by Q? Garrison handed me a piece of paper, aiite? All it was was a freakin' photo of that memory you keep getting from the kitchen, when you were in Salt Lake City? And I don't know what the heck was going on, all I know is that it is literally a snapshot of Q standing there like five inches away from your face, doing nothing, or holding at least one of your hands and staring at you like you're a freakin' pet. And I don't mean like… that's one thing that I can see why that- that -- I mean, that would bother the heck out of me, Gen. I mean he was literally just staring at this kid like he was expecting something. And when you get that kind of reaction you trigger either Spinny, or one of the numb voices, and that freakin' ticks me off. But, it wasn't the kid's fault, he didn't know, don't freakin' blame him, he was doing what probably Mel wants him to do and what he knew how to do. Problem was, it affects you in a really detrimental manner, and that's what we're gettin' flashbacks to. My point is, I was looking at this memory and I realized there's no bloody affection tied TO that stuff! You were probably thinking he's looking at you the way he looks at Mel so you had to act like Mel and that is NONSENSE. And if you try to do that, the next time you get this Q stuff triggered, I'm gonna cut your bloody head off. I'm serious! Because that is utter nonsense, Jay. I gotta anchor, I'm slippin'. That's freakin' ticking me off too-- let me turn this down. *lowers CD volume* Todd Rundgren is boss but seriously, I need to be louder than he is right now.
Um… geez what was I saying. Point is, you're gettin' triggered with the Q thing, when Chaos looks at you?
Please do realize that when Q looked at you, there was no recorded affection, at least none that registered. That action, that look, don't match the definition, at all. When Chaos looks at you-- geez, kid, I am in that room every bloody time you two are together, I have seen the way that man looks at you and he adores you, alright? I'm serious. I mean… *frustrated sigh* …No, I'm tryin' ta gather my thoughts on this without… Chaos does not look at you the way Q looks at you, Jay. He doesn't. He never did, alright? He doesn't look at you and expect a reaction. He looks at you the way Infi does. If you wanna have this bloody detachment from yourself, I can tell you for sure, when… seriously kid. When CZ looks at you it's cause he loves you and he's not expecting you to do anything in return, he's just trying to share that stuff, alright? If it's changed recently it's cause he's bloody paranoid at the fact that you keep shuttin' the heck off. And I would be too, y'know, if you tried to, freakin' show that you love somebody and they just shut down… he's probably checkin' to make sure you're still there, kid! …And he gets kudos from me for doing that, because he's not going into that stuff blindly like Q apparently did. And I'm not blaming the kid! The kid didn't know. But the point of the matter is… that's not what's happening here. Kid didn't know, that's what happened. That isn't what Chaos is doing! So calm down with the Q thing, nothing he's doing is what that kid did! Aiite? So stop generalizing stuff. …Yeah, no kidding I'm gettin' mad, Gen; well how would you feel if he did this stuff to you? *pause* He does-- Jay, Gen is telling me you do do that stuff to him. *pause* Aiite, let's bring this up. Gen is telling me you don't wanna talk to him because, you don't wanna deal with the whole relationship thing. *pause* …Yeah I'm trying not to slip, th-this stuff is difficult. *sigh* Genesis said that you're trying to do the people-pleasing thing with him "and that is nonsense," and thumbs-up because that is nonsense but watch your attitude. Point-- ye-- seriously though, Jay. I don't know if you're getting-- if people are getting triggered, and you're splitting cause you're the core and those people were cores in the past, but… tell 'em to buzz off, because that is not what should be happening here. You don't bloody need to please anybody. Genesis loves you for who you are, not for who you're trying to be. Same thing with Chaos. Same thing with me, for heaven's sake, same thing with Infi. *pause* …stuff. I'm tryin'a be mad at him, but… we're slipping into dangerous territory. I don't wanna break down on the freakin' road for heaven's sake. *pause* Agh. geez. All I know is that, you're wear-- I'm-- geez. I'm wearing this ring, this is yours, not mine. But I mean, man, just being in the same body that's wearing this ring, it's making me realize how bloody important that is, and that just… that's stuff that I'm usually not comfortable feeling, like, that kind of… magnitude of personal relevance and stuff? *lowers CD volume again* Todd's gonna get turned down a little more… yeah, this is, a great song and all, but I mean for heaven's sake, there's gotta be something else I can put on. *pause, song changes* Nah, I'm skippin' CDs, Gen. Uh, 'scuse me, disc 2? sheesh, come on. *pause* It's not. You know what, to heck with that, I'm turning that off and I'm just gonna talk without any music in the background because I need to be honest.
What was… *sigh* what was I saying, 5:55 on the voice recorder, I'm slipping and I don't like this stuff… *pause* Fact of the matter is, Jay-- *sigh* I'm slipping, someone's gonna have to take over for me, but
before I leave, what I wanna say is that this ring, right here, that's yours… with CZ, you only bought it, because you love this guy. I was gonna say because of… the te--- because of the 7th, come on. Y'know that's relevant too. Do not confuse the 7th with twen-- with the 29th, it happened afterwards and it was unrelated. And I think that shows that there's still confusion going on with this stuff. *pause* Confusion going on with motivations, Gen. That was the 29th, and this was the 7th, also the 23rd, neither of those things had anything to do with sexuality, and the kid keeps getting them freakin' confus-- I mean there ain't nothing wrong, with-- now that we know what sexuality is. It's not the freakin' physical act. It's the kind of stuff that Jay, ended up getting shoved into Eros, and then Eros got corrupted and that is STILL a huge freakin' part of this problem because it means that we were taking that and making it synonymous with the other half. *pause* The physical stuff. That's literally not what sexuality is. No. geez, didn't you get the memo? *pause, frustrated sigh* The mem-- the memo is-- y'know what, you know Infi? How we were all like, "why the heck is Infi so bloody sensual when he's not even a sexual being?" Like, what the heck? We figured it out, it's because this sexuality stuff, it deals with creation energy, which is life energy, which you don't need the freakin' physical thing for, which is what all the corrupted voices are tied to, y'notice? They're tied to that, and not the actual energy that's involved in this stuff? Which is what this is about? It's about wanting that. It's that bloody "merge drive," which he hasn't talked about in months and yet I know he still has that going on but he keeps thinking it's sexual and it’s NOT, for heaven's sake Jake it isn't. …Now I'm saying "Jake," and that shows how ticked I am because I'm referring to you by that kid… feels like I could yell that at him too. That's kinda where this stuff came from in the first place, was him thinking that was literally that same freaking thing, and-- that is nonsense, Jay for heaven's sake it's nonsense. It's not the same bloody thing! I don't care what the Mormons told you. I don't care what the heck they told you that you had to-- whatever the heck what they were doing, forget what they did! Wipe the static out of your head, forget it! That doesn’t apply to you, just freaking forget it, Jay! *pause* I know. Genesis is saying I'm getting off topic, I'm getting distracted-- I've been talking for-- holy swords, 8 minutes, and probably 15 minutes in the therapists office, geez, kid… I'm always the one trying to get you back in shape.
*pause* Someone's trying to make me-- freakin' front-split… it's-- it's the, whoever is identified with this body. Sheesh; I gotta put my own, energy overlay over this stuff. That makes it
seriously surreal to look down and see this garnet on my finger, you know that Jay? 'Cause this stuff is yours. It's yours and it's CZ's. What I'm trying to say about that is… *pause* Genesis has a good point, he says is it somethin'-- "is that something that could be put into words?" and it ain't. It really isn't. *pause* 'Cause I look at that stuff, kid, and I see dedication. I see what I see when I look at the both of you two, okay? And I don't want that getting corrupted because-- you do realize, kid, that the reason that's-- that was so freakin' important to me is because for years, I didn't unders-- *laugh* well, not that I didn't understand… it's that I was forbidding-- forbidden, from being vulnerable or open in the way that you two are with each other. And then when I saw that stuff with you people, and it started getting through the chinks in my armor… I mean… geez. Kid, that means a lot to me, y'know? Cause you taught me how to… you pretty much… taught me how to love, all right? As cheesy as that sounds, its true. If it weren't for you, kid… I, don't think I'd have figured this out… y'know, in a way that, wasn't attached to pain and punishment and stuff. And then with you and CZ and… with the way… geez. It kinda just taught me that there was different ways to relate to people than burying a bleedin' axe in their skull all the time to show that I care? But… *sigh* really, kid, you two have something, all right? You really do. And, I mean, yes you and Infi are close, but there is something between you and CZ that just can't be imitated-- don't lose that, for heaven's sake, kid… don't confuse it with this other nonsense because that's not what it is. *pause* Yeah. I mean seriously, Gen is saying, you-- yeah, but I already said that. geez, how many times do I have to say it before it freakin' registers, kid? You understand this sexuality stuff and that's why you were getting it confused. Because although-- it is literally-- you can put the two things together, and get something that's totally not what you were going for. And that's what the corrupted people, were doing, that's what they did with Julie for heaven's sake, don't drag her back into that living hell as well because that was literal hell for the both of you, and I do NOT want to see her dragged into this stuff too. NOT after her, she-- f-finally dragging herself out of this Tar stuff, okay? Pink is affection. Pink is pure affection and compassion and that stuff and the fact that Pink, got shoved into the sexuality stuff with lust, that is not just nonsense, it's evil. And I know what Q said back then and since then I think that freaking word got burned into your brain, and you know what I say? shut up, Q, for saying that-- no offense to that kid, but seriously-- shut up, for saying that when you didn't realize what the heck you were doing to my kid's brain. shut up. And buzz off. And Jay, you need to get that entirely of your head because it's nonsense! And I do not want you wr-- getting that bloody word, confused with CZ, because he's not capable of that.
Y-y'know, you were talking about translation issues, kid? You ever wonder if maybe Q
didn’t understand the side of it that INFI understands?? That his normal human body and brain had no other freaking way to translate that stuff because he only understood that side of it? He saw those two pieces of this one single thing, he never had the experience that you have had, with Infi-- that JULIE, never even had, until she was with Infi two bloody days ago, and we had a freaking meltdown because SHE didn't understand that stuff until then either. Genesis is saying "Laurie calm down"-- I'm trying to calm down, Gen, but I'm FURIOUS, okay?? I'm actually furious. Because that's seriously where this stuff came from, it's because Q freakin' told you that there was lust involved and for heaven's sake, there WASN'T. I know CZ better than Q ever bloody will, almost as well as you do, and you know I have every right and experience in saying that stuff. Because I've been with him when you were with him kid, and I've caught pieces of what he's actually feeling and there is not a single ounce of lust in it, and if Q is going to tell you that there was, FORGET HIM. There wasn't. *voice breaks* And for heaven's sake, if that's what you're picking up when you say to "stop doing the Q thing" then kid, for heaven's sake, you need, to fix your distorted perspective because that is not what is happening. Go talk to Infi, okay? You and CZ and In- Infi seriously need to get the heck back together because when the three of you are together there's no bloody confusion and you know it. Because Infi refuses to let you see, the freakin' side that Q made you think was there, because Infi doesn't deal with that either, I mean for heaven's sake you thought it did and you were projecting that on him and that's how the poor guy got so bloody sick! He was diseased, he almost DIED. Did you forget that?! Genesis, heaven's sake, if I wanna yell I'm gonna yell I'm ticked. *pause* Gen you're not allowed to front, let me know. *pause* Genesis is yelling now-- *sigh* aah, geez. He says to tell you, that he loves you too, and you won't let him get close to you, because, you keep confusing it with that stuff. And good! I'm glad you're mad about that because that's nonsense. *pause, sigh* But yeah, you're getting everything confused, Jay. This Q stuff, is literally based on him not freaking understanding a bloody thing. FORGET him! All right? You're not the person who was fronting back then, yes those mem-- those memories are attached to you now, because you're the main fronter, but, even if we have to drag out Cannon or Spinny or whoever the heck actually dealt with that stuff, and tell them that it was nonsense? We will do it. Point of the matter is, kid… forget that. It's not your life, there was a Scratch, there was a freaking Scratch-- that's in a dead timeline!! That shouldn't even apply! If you have no other hope-- yeah, Gen, seriously, get the big eyes because this is important stuff… if you have no other source of hope but that, think of it. October 2012, is a dead timeline. We moved on from that stuff. And I don't care if the only reason you're holding on to that is because of the channel. Think about what you've had with CZ since then. You don't need to go through somebody else to feel that, he loves you and you love him, you don't need a middleman!! For heaven's sake, Jay, just go upstairs and talk to him, he's right there. You are outsourcing your own love and that ticks me off, okay? …Geez, kid. I mean, listen, I've been around Infi once. That close. …I don't know how to freakin' explain that sort of emotional maelstrom that I got from him but the fact that you describe Chaos with those same two words says a lot to me.
*pause* I'm repeating myself, kid. Point of the matter is, this Q stuff is nonsense, we need to get together and talk tonight-- you, me, CZ, maybe Infi, maybe Genesis, Genesis is raising his hand and we
should let him in… *pause* He says he never talked to Q; *shaky laugh* thank God! So he should know. And I mean nothing against those two kids. Mel was a really sweet kid. Q was a great kid too! But for heaven's sake Jay, they didn't have the whole freaking picture. Yeah, Mel's technically a water kid but they feel totally freaking different from Chaos, okay? It’s a whole different animal with those two. *sigh* They were close enough in terms of… y-y-you can't put, you can't that stuff into words, okay? It was water, it was huge, it was all-encompassing, it was emotional. But, Mel understood that, I think, better than Q did. *sigh* geez I'm slipping. I'm gonna let somebody else front… but, kid, for heaven's sake, talk to me, all right? We gotta figure this stuff out, I'm sl-- the reason I'm slipping is because I'm not used t… my overlay isn't matching, outside, when I'm like this. But--- I love you kid, okay? For heaven's sake, I love the life outta you, you mean more to me than anything else in the freaking world, and when I see this stuff happen between you, and CZ, and Genesis, and Infi, and-- Genesis don't be looking at me like that, you know it's the truth. Kid, I love ya and I love your kid *laugh* just as much as I love you and for heaven's sake, *voice breaks* I don't want to see this stuff tearing you people apart. *sniff* I mean… I don't know why the heck that just came back into my brain, but… when that stuff happened… ah, geez, was it this January? …It had to be. When you went straight-up crazy, and you-- *dry laugh* nearly freakin' killed me… tore my bloody stomach out. Kid you realize I was willing to risk my life for your sake? And you nearly eviscerated me? And I still came running back to try and save your life? But the fact is… there was something Chaos said, and he basically said that he didn't know how to tell his daughter, that he didn't know… whether or not to tell her "I don't know if your other dad loves you anymore?" Do you have any idea how much that-- *voice strained, stops* …it breaks my heart, kid. The fact that that was actually something he had to consider at some point in time. And yeah, guess what? That's a dead timeline too. That stuff was erased. And if there's anything that gives me hope it's the fact that that stuff is gone. And that's not tied to our timeline any more but INFI IS. Okay?? Infinitii is in this timeline, he was born from this timeline… and the fact that he was born from this timeline means that Xenophon was too, for heaven's sake, because that’s his… that's her mother. All right?
*pause, sigh* Man. I'm really torn up over this. Because now that I can finally see exactly what's playing into the fact that you're terrified of Chaos when he looks at you because you're thinking it's that kid from Utah and it’s
not… *sigh* Genesis says, I… "I think you made your point, Laurie!" Yeah, I think I have too, I've been talking for 18 bloody minutes. But geez, kid, I don't wanna be the person coming out and telling your therapist all these problems when you can tell her the same exact thing yourself… heaven's sake kid, heaven's sake. *pause* Listen, I love you… and I love CZ, as, my legit BFF, all right? Genesis too, and I love your kid but there is something between you and CZ and Infi that I can never hope to emulate, because… *dry laugh* I can't bloody wrap my brain around that stuff. All I know is that I watch you two people and it's a religious experience… and I don't want to see that corrupted, all right? I don't want to see you trying to write that stuff down by someone else's experience-- their experiential rules. Fact of the matter is I'm trying to make a parallel between the religious exper-- maybe-- let's-- you know what? That's probably the bloody problem. It's not religious, it's spiritual. This is the heart and soul, kid, and you're trying to say it's something that's either Mormon or Christian and that's just missing the point. That kind of labeling is total nonsense, and if you try to say it isn't-- sheesh, Genesis you're right, I've gotta stop yelling. Kid, listen to this when you get home, talk to me, we've gotta have a Xanga session tonight, tomorrow is Friday, I don't know what the heck's gonna happen Friday but we need to talk. The instant you get your ass home you sit it the heck down at that computer and let's talk about this stuff. Okay? We need to have this figured out for Tuesday. I've got it figured out, but I want to talk to you, both of you about it-- kid don't you freaking dare chicken the heck out on me, because I know you want to talk about this just as much as I do, but the walls are around your heart now instead of mine, and that breaks my heart down, seeing that stuff, because I don't want the walls to move I want them to disappear and if I've gotta drag Infi in here to do that then I swear I will. I will drag him in here, and we will demolish every single wall around anybody, I don't care if I'm curled up on the floor bawling my freaking eyes out, kid if it means that you're gonna see something without this bloody obstacle in front of your eyes for the first time in how many months? It'll be worth every iota of pain I have to deal with, all right? I don't care what I have to suffer. I don't care if I have to take a knife to the face. *laugh* If it means that you'll be able to look at CZ with the same eyes you looked at him with last year… and July 7th? Not on these bloody confusing days. I want you to look at him and see him and not this ghost of a kid from Salt Lake City because for heaven's sake if I have to get on Facebook and chew him the heck out I will. All right? Point of the matter is, kid, don't forget the truth here. Check your freaking facts! Talk to Jo, talk to Infi, talk to me! Just-- if you're lost, I mean-- geez why the heck am I not saying talk to Chaos? For heaven's sake… kid, he's your other half! You're freaking married to him, he's your husband, you're his husband, for heaven's sake… "cosmically inseparable" means just that, kid. All right? I know that truth just as well as you do and you keep bloody ignoring it because you're terrified for some freaking reason, I don't know why! Why the heck are you so scared? I'm not scared! *laugh* heaven's sake, I'm more scared of Infi than I'll ever be of CZ, and the only reason I'm scared of--  wait, sheesh, that's probably the point, isn't it? 'Cause Infi tears my walls down. When I'm around Infi it makes me feel like I'm totally bloody open and I've never had armor in my life. And I'm covered in scars that you refuse to even look at, kid. I'm covered in-- in graves. *deep breath* Old and deep graves that you won't even acknowledge that happened. And you know why that breaks my heart? It's because… the motivation behind that stuff was always the same and that's why I hate this hacking situation 'cause for heaven's sake kid, now that I see it, *voice breaks* the reason that you let yourself be dragged into this stuff is 'cause they were doing the same thing to you they were doing to Julie. *sniff* …You went into this disaster looking for love and they told you that that wasn't what you really wanted and that's an absolute lie. You never wanted the-- the frankly criminal acts they passed off as love or romance or whatever the heck. No one does, not deep down, ever. They've all been lied to, too. No, all of you, and especially you, kid-- you wanted love, real love. And that’s the only thing Chaos will ever give you and if you think that it's not? …I'm gonna drag you, and him, and Infi, and me, into one room, and then I'm gonna leave… and I'm gonna leave you in there with Infi and Chaos, and then I'm gonna tell Infi to leave, and you're gonna be stuck there, until that wears off, and you're gonna be s-- forced to just look at him with-- clear eyes for the first time in I don't even know what the heck I'm trying to say. *voice breaks* I'm torn up about this situation, kid. *sniff* I'm your protector. I'm the violet voice up here. I'm supposed to make sure everybody in the System… *sigh* freakin' functions, aiite? …And I don't know why, but… I don't know if it's because-- or, not even 'because,' but if it's the reason why I ended up getting that Angel Helmet handed to me? But I feel like that stuff's something I've gotta protect too. Geez… *laugh* Listen, kid... I love your daughter, okay? She's the sweetest thing… *sigh* and if you can look at her other father and say anything… that's not the complete truth, then I don't know where you're looking, kid. *voice breaks* Look at her and then look at him. You won't get confused, I guarantee it. Seriously, you can't-- you're looking at two different realities kid, I'm gonna hit stop on this, there's 4:44 right in front of me, there was 5:55 on here… God, come on, give me some synchronicity, okay?? Loud as anything. Just… somewhere. For me and for the kid. I gotta see something. Gen says I'm looking too hard. I probably am. I'm just bloody desperate. Everything feels like there's synchronicity behind it, everything feels like it could be relevant right now, kid. And I think that's more synchronicity than seeing triple numbers everywhere I look. *pause, laugh* That could be something. We got three double-Os in a row, and if that means anything it's three freakin' infinity symbols. And then 333 right in front of-- what the heck! *laugh* Gen is, is gawking at-- there you go.
…Kid, I'd say that’s relevant enough. I've gotta leave, I am literally burning myself out, I really… don't wanna deal with this stuff. We're at E.N., we're gonna be there in like five seconds, and I want-- if you're not gonna front, I'll let Jo front or somebody, or the AP or something… point of the matter is kid, I love you, so freakin' talk to me… we've got the truth here, it's unearthed, it's dug the heck up, from, wherever the heck it was… let's just get this… bloody acknowledged for sure, okay kid? --sheesh, where the heck am I gonna park? Looks like we're going to the lower lot. Why the heck are there so many people at E.N. today? what the heck. Ah well, we're parking back here. …But kid, I know, that in your heart, you understand this just as well as I do, otherwise I wouldn't be able to
get this stuff, it's there… if you're tied to White and Black energy that means that you can tie int-- you can tie into this stuff just as well as I can, you know what I'm trying to say. Kid, don't blind yourself to the truth, all right? Don't. Don't ever blind yourself to this. *pause* Gen is saying, just, close up. Yeah… you're right, I'm just gonna close this stuff up.
Kid… talk to me. That's all I'm gonna say. It's just… when you hit stop on this, whenever you're going to re-listen to it, talk to me for heaven's sake. Okay? We will get this figured out-- you're not broken, nothing is broken, nothing is wrong, nobody is evil up here. *pause* Just… sheesh. Feels like there's something I should say to close it up, Gen… *pause* Genesis says to remind you that we all love ya. And y'know, maybe that's the only thing. Love conquers all, y'know? The only thing that can beat the hell out of the Tar. …Maybe that’s what you're losing sight of, kid. Maybe you're getting too bloody confused in trying to
label that stuff, that you're forgetting what it actually is. Go spend some time with Infi. Have him rip your walls down and then tell me what you see when that's not in front of your eyes.

 



 

 

 

dec 10

Dec. 10th, 2013 09:36 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

(Some thoughts after reading multiplicity posts on Tumblr)

Jay here; when I'm tuned in to headspace, I get "pseudo-sensory" input very clearly as well. Besides sights and sounds, I also get 'phantom' sights and presences; I can always tell when Genesis has showed up in the room, or if someone upstairs has just moved physically closer to me when I'm fronting. It's virtually tangible, to the point where I've started keeping a list of "who feels like what" so I know who those myriad sensations come from. Since its so immersive, there can be significant leakage if it isn't sharply kept inside... but after years of being forced to do that via a survival-mechanism "buffer system," we've become so tired of the suppression that we're now actively trying to dismantle it, just to be able to experience everything without censorship.

In the past, our personal life situation practically required us all to live internally instead of externally whenever possible, so internal sensations are arguably more "real" to me than outer ones are, most days. Plus I do meditate whenever possible so that helps boost my perception, but I tend to end up "lost in headspace" for 2+ hours solid during some meditations, and that can be very tiring. (The perception during those is INTENSE though! I have notable trouble distinguishing those memories from physical ones.)
Meditation also can spike depersonalization when I'm in the body (ironically I only tend to ground "upstairs"), so I have to be careful, as I'm dissociated enough on a daily basis.
Being able to perceive headspace like this is so important and vital to me that, when I lose my perception-- either to meds or psychological fallout-- it's actually existentially frightening.

 

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@ 11:24 am


TRACK 67

(Lynne) All right, I'm, not sure how to start this, but, this is Lynne Stabelle. Uh, Jay, if you're hearing this I simply wanted to leave a message for you on your voice recorder, because I'm fronting. It's Tuesday, after your therapy session, 11:24, in the morning… I know you like having timestamps. Um… Genesis says "move the microphone closer." *laugh* I guess road noise would drown me out. Fronting-- I want to remind you, Jay, I'm fronting right now, and we have currently… have this idea where, when I'm fronting I say, "I am Lynne Stabelle-- my name is Lynne Stabelle, my color is Orange, I have long orange hair, orange eyes, an orange dress… I am female, and a headvoice." And… that-- see, saying "I am female," somebody is, yelling "dysphoria"… but I am! I am a woman… but I am a headvoice as well, so, they don't need to feel threatened by me… but they do. Yes, Genesis said "but they do." And they do, and they shouldn't… but, that's true. So there are people… hiding below the surface… when we front, and that's why it's difficult to anchor. Laurie fronted for most of the session today *laugh*… just reminding you, in case you forget… 'cause she did, I'm proud of her. I should try, that would be fun… I don't-- I'm on the highway, I can't slip. Um, I'm going to hit stop, because, I'd like other people to talk, but, as I said, I'm currently driving your car, we are driving down Interstate 81, behind a… what's that? It's a tanker. Not a truck. It says (unintelligible, trying to sound out something)… whatever it is! *laugh* It's snowing, I got to drive through Scranton for a little bit, which is where I was born… and… I'm going to stop because I am slipping. Uh, *short sigh* Have a good day, Jay, whenever you hear this. I'm really slipping, bye.

 

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@ 06:56 pm


Figured out how to bypass the buffer during therapy-- get me to front, heheh.
I had to shove the A.P. aside to get out but it's cooperative, and I had important things to say. Therefore, progress was made, heck yes.
Feels good to be out though. Haven't fronted in front of other people in over a year, s'far as I can remember.

I swear even the therapist chills out when I'm around, it's awesome.

-LU 


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@ 11:04 pm


Today has been an absolute roller coaster, so let's fill you in on that before the night is up.

- first let me just say that if you read our recent posts, there was apparently a MAJOR hack on the 4th, concerning Infinitii of all people, that no one mentioned here (jay tried to memory-purge it out of shock). surprisingly laurie is the one who wrote about it, as she rarely gets through to update personally. either way, when we feel capable of reviewing that event, we will write about it here for the sake of personal comprehension (not tonight for sure). clearly, the consequences of it were crushingly significant and painful, and so ignoring it will only harm us all.

- related, jay is trying to figure out his personal memories. he was talking to laurie about it last night and he said that his personal memories seem to pick up NOT immediately post-scratch, but post-lockout. he "cannot remember a time when the undergrounders were not around." we are wondering if this means he was "born" before or after the reset, because in early august he is only aware of things dimly, not as a fronter but a distant observer. we will try to pinpoint this, as he tends to splinter, and we would like to know who we are dealing with, and when, for the sake of everyone's well-being.

- as of last night the other two data voices (besides kalisha) have found their names: isadora and garrison. again, isadora is confirmed sub-violet, but garrison is somewhere between green and blue. we're wondering if he actually fits under teal. jay made an avatar for isadora today, but he "still cannot see garrison," and "can't find kalisha's hair." either way it is good to hear that he is picking them up a little more clearly visually now.

- we had a therapy session this morning, for the first time since before thanksgiving. because of how charged recent events have been, we collectively decided that we needed to breach the big topic at last and start discussing the sexual abuse, for the sake of healing it. HOWEVER with all the progress we've been making over the past several months, we were shocked when we realized that, when it came to finally discussing it, there was nowhere near as much trauma as there was with it even this time last year. this is somewhat ironic, as our triggers are far worse and far more numerous, but we also have enough understanding to not be completely devastated by every one of them. our recovery time is better.

- the a.p. fronted for a good part of therapy, saying that since no one held the actual abuse memories (that we were aware of), it was "stored as data" so it was the person to come out and simply recite it. the therapist kept asking "what do you think," etc., and the a.p. was literally incapable of asking those questions, it kept looking to us for replies. it did admit who it was at one point and the therapist said she figured that's who was talking.
- knife attempted to front, but struggled spectacularly with language so he had to pull out as it was forcing him to slip badly. jayce also tried to, but he has no understanding of that data so he left. it went back to the a.p. for a while but then the therapist said something about "choosing to be asexual," as opposed to being so naturally, and who forced their way out to talk but laurie.
- so yeah laurie fronted for about 15 minutes? which was awesome. she helped clarify a lot of things, gave insight into the situation upstairs, etc. incredibly productive thanks to her explaining it firsthand, as she works with jay and sees what he goes through. she mentioned the sex/affection conflict due to pink corruption, the perspectives we now had with the truth of that (mostly thanks to infi), and her previous no-vulnerability problem. she also made it clear that many triggers were "innocuous" on the outside, and yet still lethal internally, which was a huge problem.
- hilariously at the end, the therapist said she was okay with profanity, just "don't flip any tables." laurie laughed and said she wouldn't be taking an axe to the furniture, don't worry. the therapist responded amusedly that pillow-throwing was allowed but that was about it. unfortunately laurie says she was slipping badly at that point so there was no further banter, which is a shame because that's great stuff
- genesis was lounging on the couch this whole time we'd like to note, it was also snowing outside which was very reassuring

- driving home was a mess thanks to all the session switching. laurie let jay back in, so he tried to drive at first, but couldn’t get a grip. mulberry took over for a minute, but since she's never driven before she got confused and had to leave. so the trip home is actually largely missing from the memory-- which is a first-- because no one was out for most of it. thankfully genesis stuck around so there were not any accidents as he was keeping things under control from outside as he always does.
- lynne fronted for a little while once we hit the main city, she has one very clear memory of a certain street and the snow. she also left a message on the voice recorder saying hello to jay, which took him by surprise when he got home. notably, she mentioned that when fronting, if she clearly said "I am Lynne Stabelle, my color is Orange," etc. and described herself, it helped her anchor in better, as it strengthened her energy overlay. everyone has problems with dysphoria because there is a negative voice anchored to the body itself, and so having attention brought to it tends to catch the attention of said voice, who tries to shove everyone else out in anger. we are wondering if there is any way to change this, even if it involves getting the a.p. to adopt a body-resembling face temporarily to bring attention to it instead.
-after that genesis called javier in, as he's considered our "grounding voice" and so gen assumed he'd be able to front. he showed up, but although he could drive and stay in no problem, he couldn't really see? even after he focused in energetically, nothing was registering visually. so there's really no memory transferred from him, although there is clear data that he was out for the vast majority of the drive from that point on.

- the evening is a blur for one huge reason: somewhere around noon, julie slipped. she fronted, and caused a hack. however that terminology doesn't quite fit-- because she was responsible for it personally, and infinitii was also involved. the latter point is why it doesn't strictly qualify as a hack; infinitii prevented her from becoming lost in any tar or plague, even if he didn't prevent the actual situation. however, despite the jarring consequences of that being allowed to happen, it DID have a positive aftereffect in that it allowed Julie to gain a complete perspective of her own motivations, which she never had before, due to not having a key piece of the puzzle, so to speak. (this is almost identical to jay's situation, and shows that the both of them were used similarly by the tar.) unfortunately, despite this vital lesson, julie was still emotionally devastated and existentially tired, and surprisingly she actually went to sleep, saying she wanted "someone else to take over" when she woke up, as she didn't want to deal with waking life anymore at that time. she slept for at least 3 hours and there is data of suffering a dream hack, which is not surprising. julie TRIED to fight it off-- again noteworthy as those usually catch jay when he is incapacitated but julie was not-- but failed. whether this was due to despair or being overpowered we do not know.
- also, remember that after the meltdown on the 5th, atonement has been FORBIDDEN until better methods are found. so this incident was more harmful than usual as a result.

- upon waking we do not know who took over. data picks up with jay in the kitchen, talking to julie, laurie, and infi upstairs. julie explained how she had been affected, laurie tried to comfort jay as he was badly shaken by the fact of the situation (we all share a body but he's the core so he feels the worst of it whether he likes it or not), and infinitii helped everyone from falling into despair concerning that. therapy talk came up again, jay said he was actually angry about the abuse topic as he didn't want to admit that he had been a victim of that in the past. laurie said he had to though, and also stop seeing sexuality as "always evil" as a result, as it wasn't, it was neutral. she and jay reviewed his perspective on this briefly, but jay concluded with admitting that he could no longer view reproduction as "evil," ever, because even if the act could be used traumatically, its function stayed the same-- life creation. and that gave him hope, that it had a neutral core that was still purely benevolent. but even then the only thing that kept him from giving in to hatred was the fact that infinitii was technically xenophon's mother in that respect, the only positive figure of that sort that he'd ever known. and since he loved both infi and his stepdaughter so much, and realized that her creation via sexuality had NOT been evil or traumatic, he couldn't universally generalize anymore. and that was actually helping him let go of the trauma, as previously he was convinced he had suffered an "irredeemable wrong" and was therefore equally corrupted permanently by it, which was false but he believed it entirely.
- side note, julie said she wanted to "date infi" if that was okay, because she had a better grip on her own thought processes now, thanks to him allowing her to directly realize that she didn't have to be ruled by "compulsory" lust, as she was for a long time, as there were other things she now understood and wanted more than that (mainly intimacy, which she actually avoided for most of her life). jay laughed and said that was fine, infi could "date" everyone in headspace and it wouldn't bother him, besides that was infi's choice. infinitii said he was fine with it too, besides by his function he pretty much loved everyone in headspace already.

- the rest of the evening is a total blur, up until around 8-9pm? all we know is that jay was in his room, and got trapped in a negative mindscape where he was effectively being sold as a prostitute against his will. this obviously proved to be a hack, as he tried to escape and the JMB trio jumped on him, along with the tar ITSELF. we don’t know details of this, all jay said is that he called for infi, but bridget clamped a hand over his mouth and told him to shut up, they wouldn't let anyone save him. nevertheless jay kept trying and infi did manage to "break through" to save him literally at the last minute, dragging him upstairs. he got laurie to help him help jay recuperate, but jay was deeply shaken and completely disoriented.
- major trigger warning here, for system people too… this got much worse when jay suddenly realized that the body was actually bleeding as a result of the abuse. this triggered one of the FIRST abuse memories on record, and since jay was incapable of handling that he dissociated entirely and began sobbing from shock. laurie immediately said "I'll bloody kill them" and told infi to send her back there, but he said no, it was too dangerous alone. so laurie went to "get backup," and soon returned with sugar and algorith.
- almost instantly after the trauma memories hit though, people started switching in and out in the body-- cannon was in for a moment, caught between hysteric rage and suicidal anguish, but she got pushed out by a numb fronter. and this kept happening. jeremiah, sugar, algorith, and even laurie herself ALL tried to front to try and keep things from unraveling, but some deeply-rooted numb person kept shoving them all out. sure enough it was the "dead red" boy who we first pinpointed this spring. laurie tried to talk to him but he proved incapable of reacting to anything, even "shake your head for yes or no." he would hear but have no impetus to move at all, being that detached.
- importantly, when jeremiah fronted, he began sobbing that he couldn’t be in that body, "please get me out." but before he did he got the data that it was bleeding, and he immediately shouted for knife. knife ran to respond, but when he realized that the body was bleeding from trauma, he was shaken. how in the world could the retributors atone for this, if the blood itself had been used for evil? no one knew what to do, they were terrified.
- anyway infi was still trying to calm jay down but he was freaking out, understandably so. he was again convinced that he had been "broken beyond all hope of healing" but was still trying to purge all awareness of the event from his memory, traumatized by the reality of it. laurie was still righteously pissed and demanded that infi take them back to wherever they had just saved jay from, as she refused to let that go unpunished. infi said he would, but only if he was sure jay would be safe alone. who would they leave to watch over him? however before they could make a decision, there was a sound from outside and we realized the mother was home. immediately the angry downstairs voice jumped into fronting, screaming with rage, saying "I refuse to deal with that bitch on top of everything else!!" laurie tried to explain that they were trying to cope with a rape situation upstairs, don't go shoving that aside, but that voice said "I'm upset about that too but I can't get confused or I'll fracture." either way they decided to isolate themselves in our room, so that is where they went.

- this is where most of the night went. infi and the three protectors went to fight the tar, while the angry downstairs voice went to our room to try and calm down. however, they became exasperated and shortly left, leaving jay behind alone. now jay did not detach entirely, and he was very scared, from not only pain but also from being alone all of a sudden. desperate for contact he took an old sketchbook and wrote a message on a page, asking for someone to please talk to him, he didn't want to feel so isolated when he was that terrified. surprisingly, the only response he got was "NO," written by the dead red voice. but this proved to be only the beginning, as jay kept trying to talk, and when laurie got back, she joined in… as did the angry voice from before. and so there are literally EIGHTEEN PAGES of text in the sketchbook that will need to be scanned in tomorrow. I apologize for the odd sentence structure of that paragraph but seriously that is SURREAL to notice on your desk in the evening! it hasn't been read yet but as it is 12:34 in the morning that is not a job for tonight.

- that’s it for today I guess. this is jayce, hiya, just popping in to close this up, laurie just caught me and is motioning for me to "get outta there." uh she also said the rapists took my hat?? what?? the tar people literally took my hat for some reason. well that's got me mad. I'm gonna leave, I want to find out why.

- Hey readers, Laurie here. I hope the AP covered everything 'cause I am not going back and reviewing that text wall on top of how much I already had to do this evening.
Jay's a mess right now, but at least he's not sobbing his eyes out like Infi was the other day (What a heart-crushing parallel that is). He's… fragmented, is all. He breaks into all these tiny pieces when he gets hurt, pieces that don't remember anything and can't interact with the world outside. It's a coping mechanism and it doesn't work at all in the big picture because then he gets stuck in those states and then no one knows who they're talking to. It’s a pain in the neck, as I said earlier.
But I gotta go talk to him before he goes to work. His boss is probably gonna wonder what the heck happened, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but maybe he can help, I don't even know. I'm just ticked off and tired of what's been happening lately. I know December is the resurrection month but man I wish it didn't drag zombies out into the open as well.
Still, I've got a job to do, and that is punching those zombies in the face. Wait, no, that's Algorith's thing now. But you get the picture.
I'm closing this up for the night. Sorry for all the depressing stuff, but the awfully ironic silver lining in this is that it's forced us all to work together a little more closely now. Isn't that just hilarious? In a morbid way, obviously. Trauma forces us to be a family. Geez. I wish we didn't need that to feel so strongly brought together, because I'm telling you, I am sick of it.
Like I said though. I've got a sick and scared boy to take care of, and a reality-hopping nightcapped dude here to explain stuff to. See you later.

  

senseless

Nov. 16th, 2013 01:19 pm
prismaticbleed: (amecry)

 


(two notes because I have no time to update today)

- awful waking up stuff. julie trying to hack us, got through for a while, and ultimately tried to attack infinitii. he refused and told her to leave him alone, but she refused-- and infi actually had the idea to shout "rape" in response. this was actually genius as it got sugar's attention and she immediately showed up to fight julie off. (i infamously almost never call for help when i'm in trouble; it's an old and bad survival response.) julie didn't think sugar had the guts to fight her if it came down to that, but sugar's hook-swords apparently changed her mind after a minute and she bailed before sugar could deal actual damage. infi thanked her, and they actually began to talk to each other a little about the situation, but I was starting to get incredibly woozy (I had just woken up after all, hence the hack) and couldn't hold any awareness of that. but infi noticed, and immediately called down (loudly!), "jay, get out of that bed right now." I willed myself to do that as quickly as possible, then got out of the room fast. infi thanked me for responding so quickly, as we were in real danger, I said I knew that and that's why I pushed the body to obey right away (sometimes it's near impossible to get it to respond despite risks). he and sugar said they'd be extra vigilant for the rest of the day just in case julie tried to finish the job or something.

-angelorei helping the car today again! I miss them. they're my favorite jewel monster species; I used to always see them surrounding the car on family road trips, guiding us so we wouldn't get in accidents. there was one right outside my window smiling at me (I was a passenger today), he said not to worry, I could even close my eyes if I wanted to, that was how much I could trust their protection. it was a really great feeling to know that, so I did.

 


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@ 06:23 pm

 

Major trigger warning for this whole thing, System members too. I need to get this filth out of my head.

I hate how trauma can make your worst fear the biggest part of your life. Isn’t that ridiculously ironic? I spent years avoiding something so completely I had to break my own mind to stay separate from it… and then one day it slipped through the cracks anyway, with a scream of victorious hatred, and thus every facet of my existence became tainted.

Today I was driving home from church through town in the twilight, and at a stoplight, I glimpsed some girl moving through an upper window in a home I didn't recognize. The blinds were mostly drawn, and she was wrapped up in coats, but I found my mind thinking, instinctively, desperately, strangely-- let her take those off. Let me get a glimpse of innocent skin. And with a jolt, I stared at those thoughts in total shock, realizing what that meant.
Once college hit, and I found myself finally convinced that it was "impossible to be asexual or queer," I began to obey my mother's loud suspicions and force myself to "become a lesbian," even though I was actively pushing against every actual inclination or lack thereof in my body. I shoved all fears of Julie under the rug, and tried to reassure myself by repeating, "it's harder for a woman to rape you." I felt I had no other option to consider, not as long as I refused to acknowledge my own identity. Still, even then it was impossible for me to even pretend to like cis men: the crushing fear of being in a 'straight' relationship, the total invalidation of my inner self, and worse, the forever-looming horror of my biological parts in that context were insurmountable obstacles. So I had to like women, I told myself, choking down my dread. I had to become a lesbian. And Julie sneered in anticipation.
I was ignoring something though. I had felt sincere love towards females in my youth, but it was all innocent. It was all childlike, admiring, the desire to be someone's "best friend forever," except even as a child, I added and then some. I wanted those girls to let me adore them. I wanted the sort of total, boundary-less intimacy I craved from life itself and never received… but whenever I tried to express that, it was met with grimaces, with disgust, with bewilderment, and sometimes even fear or anger. What I wanted was just not asked for. And if no one was willing to let me in like that, ever, then I was doomed to be alone.
Except I never stopped hoping. Even when Julie jumped on the sudden shock of teenage health classes and started hissing in my ear, "you know you want to f*ck them," "you're SUPPOSED to want sexual relationships," et cetera… even then, she couldn’t entirely corrupt that innocent need of mine. But it got devastatingly filthied in the process.
Despite that data being clear, I cannot remember a time when, to me, intimacy and affection and closeness were not completely infected by sexuality and lust, either forced on me by others, or faked for my own survival. The problem is, on top of that childhood rejection, I also never had the luxury of familial closeness. My parents were not affectionate. Any time I tried to show affection to my brothers, past a certain very young age, it was viewed as inappropriate. I quickly learned to be ashamed of my own burning desire for love, not the fake-plastic kind plastered on billboards and magazine centerfolds, but actual love, pure and simple: the feeling of warmth in winter, the sound of bells at sunrise.
To be honest, I was no stranger to distant, impersonal love. I knew my family cared about me because they paid for my schooling, they made sure there was food on the table, they bought me presents for my birthday. But hugs were rare, words of compassion were rare, closeness and openness in general were both rare. And THAT was what I wanted-- or at least, I assume I did, because that aching need still haunts me now, still honest, and still blackened beyond recognition most days.

This all feels so alien. I'm talking about secondhand memories as if they were mine, and it's making me extremely switchy and dissociated. I need to stop that; I'm confused enough without trying to pretend I experienced things that I don't even understand.
That's, sickly, part of this too. Let's get back to that point.

You all know I struggle with self-identity. When someone speaks to me, or otherwise includes me in the bubble of their personal existence, I feel that I must become them, that I must become an extension of their identity. Despite its obligatory nature, it is not forced, nor is it unwilling. I don't want to be different than someone else when I am with them. I don't want to be some sort of conflicting, harmful thing, even if I'm not, but I don't seem able to understand that. Around others, that old "merge drive" of mine kicks in, and I get the overwhelming need to just melt into everything else. I will shift and change and alter every facet of myself, even if it's painful, even if I don't really want to, because ultimately that self-sacrificing love-- which isn't really true love if it is willing to massacre my own health in the process-- values their self and life and identity far above my own. When I am around another individual, suddenly individuality becomes nonexistent for me. Does this make sense? I am incapable of being separate from other people, whenever they are no longer separate from me, even if it's only as close as a "hello."

So… putting all these pieces together in that instant at the stoplight, I realized what the sadly malformed thoughts were really about, concerning the girl in the window.
To my mind, if she did show her "innocent skin," it would have been intentional. It would have been practically an invitation. Not in the sense that Julie would think, but in the sense I always hoped and longed for-- "you're allowed to get this close to me." Simply, harmlessly. Without the mask of clothing, one is completely vulnerable, completely open, unable to hide their most basic shape… naked in the purest sense of the word. And I did want that. I wanted to be that close to her, to someone, to ANYONE, without the slightest risk of abuse in it. But in that openness, in that allowing me to be so near her, would have taken the identity-less drive of mine and kicked it up to 11. See, a merge drive felt while there is still significant space between me and another is one thing. A merge drive felt when the two of us are practically one shape is another thing entirely. And that's exactly what I realized I wanted in that closeness, to become so close that I ceased to be a person. I wanted to lose my entire identity and melt into them.
And the quickest way to do that is to dissociate. So you understand why I force myself into 'sexual' contexts? I can get the closeness I want, sure, but I'm so unbearably terrified that I shut off immediately, and don't come back until hours later maybe… I lose my entire identity, in the wrong way.
But ultimately, the only thing I want with those young girls, those sweet little things, is to destroy what identity I have left, to melt into them, if only to feel, however fleetingly, their innocence, their total purity, which I lost so long ago.
And I hate that I'm in this old body. I hate it so much. To them, now, I probably look like a rapist too. But inside I'm just as small and scared and fragile as them, just a little boy in a little girl's body. And nothing makes sense anymore.

I've never had sex. I know, I always try to make it sound like I have, but that's forcing misunderstanding on myself too, you know? That's forcing sexual overtones onto everything and anything, which is stupid and hellish. But no, I have never, not ever, been with someone in that way. I don't know what it's even like, nor do I EVER want to. The problem is, after so many godforsaken years of having sex and lust drilled into my brain until it bled, how was I supposed to know what anything else was like? I'd never had the opportunity to be honestly close to someone, ever. The only closeness I ever got was when some pigtailed slut was forcing herself upon me, insisting that THAT was what I really wanted. It's all devilish lies. I DON'T WANT IT, I never did, and God help me but I still don't feel I have the luxury of admitting that, or even viewing that as valid, not when the entire American media empire keeps telling me that people like me don't exist. What's that, they say, you're asexual? Oh you poor thing, that's not a real orientation! You're just confused, you're just a late bloomer, you just haven't met the right person, you just haven't had good sex yet… and then they wonder why Sugar wants to tear their throats out. They wonder why the children won't stop screaming no matter what they insist is right. And they tell me I need to "get over it" when I have emotional breakdowns at the slightest hint of physical contact. Like me, they don't have the luxury of a different frame of reference. To them, it's impossible for someone to not like sex… and as the years went on, I began to panic, because what if Julie was right?
And so it lingers. The cursed stuff lingers. Someone brushes against me? They're going to hurt me. Someone hugs me? They're going to rape me. And forget anything like kissing or touching-- I will flat-out shut down because God forbid, I do NOT want to be around for what comes next, I would rather not even exist.
Except sometimes a touch or a hug or a kiss is just that. Affection. Closeness. If a child kisses you, it's because they love you, as guilelessly as they might love their puppy dog or teddy bear. But I never got to experience that. So I don't have that frame of reference. I don't have the ability to tell when intimacy isn't sexual now, because when I finally got to experience it, it was, and it never failed to be so. I don't HAVE any other experience!
Do you have any idea how heartbreakingly horrific that is? I'm unable to have friendships, or admirations, or family ties, because that perpetual crushing need to be close to people will not die, but NEITHER will the hardwired lie that that need of mine is based on lust, something I can't even comprehend. And yet, in fear, I force it onto everything.
I really do love people, you know? I really do. There are some people I adore so fervently that I would die for them. But my brain refuses to believe that I can love them without wanting to have sex with them. And I hate myself for it, because I don't feel I can say no.

I'm going in circles. Again.
This stuff keeps getting dragged out onto paper. This is probably the thousandth time I've written those exact same paragraphs, in different words. I know I need to just let it go. I know. Holding onto it is just going to poison me further.
But what about healing? What about the reality of pain, that it shows me that something is wrong, and needs to be mended? Every time I try to let go, I end up simply turning a blind eye to the fact that I'm practically crucified at this point. I need to take these nails out of my hands and feet, for good, but if I refuse to face the inevitable blood, I won't get anywhere.
I'm tired. I'm tired and sad and yet at the same time I know the truth now, that's something I've never had before, and because of it I can't seem to quite lose my hope anymore.

I think I'm going to print this out. I'm going to print this out, and take it to the therapist on Thursday, because this is the central hell of my daily existence and I still haven't had the guts to bring it up to her yet. Maybe that's why this happened tonight? Maybe all I needed was to be reminded that yes, some ugly roots are still stuck in here, and you need to work through them. After all I haven't given this issue any thought lately, despite the fact that it never seems to go away.

Stupid as it may make me, though, this is making me ill, and I don't want to think about it anymore.
There's too much hope trying to shine through my eyes.

"...Are you still stuck attempting to define what you are experiencing in the Now based on what you were taught by your elders in the past? If only you could see yourselves as we see you, in your magnificent Wholeness. It already exists...Are your dreams a little more intense lately? Do you “see” things at the edge of your peripheral vision? Are you experiencing visions? Are you feeling moody and emotional? You’re going through a period of complex growth and development right now. Be kind to yourself. Do not fall back into self-judgment for your seeming lack of progress, dear ones, for you are forging ahead into a new world of your making, one that has never existed before, anywhere, in this entire Universe."

It's hilarious, hilarious and sad. Every time someone tries to reset or kill the System, it's because they want to deny the things that caused us to exist in the first place. They want to ignore and deny all this abuse, they want to pretend it never happened. But then they never would have learned what they did, they never would have grown.
You have to acknowledge and accept suffering before you can overcome it... and love is the only thing that can heal the wounds of hatred and fear.
If there is one thing this System has taught me, it's love. There is so much love up here it breaks my heart from sheer joy to realize that we were somehow able to get THIS out of THAT. If I didn't already believe in miracles, that fact alone would have been enough to convince me.

I'm admittedly not sure who wrote the vast majority of this entry. I copy-pasted it from the upload log on our computer. I'll have to re-read it later, as I do see that bit about wanting to print it.
In any case, today was kind of tricky, but darn it we've been through worse and there was more than enough happiness hidden in the cracks of today to carry us through without a scar. I'm thankful for that.

Sorry about the mess, again. At least we're able to stand back and recognize it as such now, right?

 



 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH INFINITII ETERNOS MR. SANDMAN JAY IRIDOS


All right, how the heck are we going to do this…

We have to channel. It's the only way. Pre… what's the word.

Pre what? You mean mistranslation?

Yes. I mean… direct interpretations of our words don't always work? It's not verbal.


No, it's not. But let's get this thing started. It's 11:34 PM on November 9th, 2013, this is Laurie, hi, that's Infinitii, Sherlock may or may not be typing, or is he running it through the AP? I can't tell…


Doesn't matter. Let's talk. Jewel is out of commission.


Jay.


Jewel. He's in his female form. That happens when he is depressed, and suicidal.


Self-loathing, he said, yeah. To be honest the gender switches always freaked me out. I'd start accidentally referring to him as "she" and before I knew it, boom, I'd notice that he was a bloody mess. It was a subconscious danger sign, y'know? The way people's names start getting left out of roll calls when they start slipping.


I know. Do we have a topic?


Sheesh, Infi, I thought you were the more chaotic one.


I am. In essence. But this is important. You're still not channeling.


Not really, no. Geez. Don't forget, J's not here for this. Usually he is. I've never done this stuff
without him before.

I know. Neither have I. But we have to try. For his sake.


All right, give me a second. "
In Paradisum" again?

Yes, it will drown out the other noises, and it helps me think. Center. Wrong word, sorry.

It's okay man, that happens. Give me a second, like I said.


Okay. Drop the pitch.


Just did. We good to go now?


Channel. Not… what is the word?


Uh… shoot, what is the word? Transcribing, that's it!


Yes! Direct transcription of words. That doesn't work.


Not in these bloody things, no. …Aaand so we just wasted a whole page, didn't we.


Yes we did. That is why I asked for a topic, and told you to channel. We do not have all night, Laurie, and this is an important subject.


Yeah, no kidding. Sorry dude. 'Kay, topic. Last I checked it was why the heck J-boy over there keeps freaking out over everything?


Touches, especially. That is what set this off.


Yeah, but we know about that. He associates all touches with trauma.


Why
all of them?





Shoot.


Is he awake?


Vaguely. Looks instinctive is all. Man that's creepy as heck.


J, can you hear me?


…No, guess not.


Good. I was worried about that. …Should we keep him down?


How the heck would we do that?


Golden arrow. Those work to pin bad energy in place. If anything tries to operate him like a puppet, that will keep them from getting him anywhere.


Works for me. You got one of those on hand?


I can make one.


Holy swords, you're just like Jewel with that. J. Shoot, see, that's what I mean.


Mm. But see, no blood on mine. Just stars, if there's any sort of afterglow…


So you and him've got different stuff on the inside, huh.


Possibly. I'd think so.


Nice shootin', Tex.


Thank you.


Flamboyant as anything, but hey, I'd expect that from you.


Please. J would be worse. That was necessary. Now. Talk?


Yeah, sure, sorry about the waste of time. I'm just having a hard time with this.


I know. I'm sorry if I sounded impatient. I'm not. I'm simply deeply concerned.


Yeah, you and me both. So. Trauma?


Always. And, that seems to the be problem.


"Always trauma," heh, pretty much.


When did that start? Has he always been like this?


What, with the getting  bloody traumatized by everything? I wouldn't think so, but the first thing I'm getting is 2008… 2009? Geez I don't know. Gotta be 2008, it's the first time he was with Q. Or whoever was with Jacob, that sure as heck wasn't him. He was upstairs most of the entire time.


What happened?


Surprise visit, or poorly planned, heck if I know, kid came over to visit and J freaked the heck out. …There's two snapshots of it, one is as soon as they walked in, he was in his room hugging his Watchmen book? What the heck man, why was he using that as a comfort object?


Rorschach?


How the blood do you know about Rorschach?


I don't. It's the word that came into my head. I'm trying to access the data memories too.


Well yeah, it was Rorschach, obviously. Kid had a weird sort of affection for the guy, guess he latched onto that in a hurry. If I recall I was pretty furious too.


About?


About the whole bloody situation. About this kid from Utah showing up and J freaking the heck out and everything basically just looking about a thunderstorm about to dump buckets of blood instead of rain, the whole shebang. A looming disaster. I must've spit outrage about twenty times when he went into that room.


So he was upset?


He was freaking terrified, Infi, that's why
I was furious!

Ah. So what was the second snapshot?


In the car. Somewhere. At that park he hates to this day, well not hates, but has an abyss of anxiety around. He was in the back seat of this car, doesn't even look like ours in the memory, anyway Q was holding his hand, or at least trying to, or something. And the kid wasn't even
there. Apparently that was so legitimately 'traumatic' for him that he dissociated completely, he was upstairs for most of the bloody car ride, I remember he was still form-warping back then so he looked a freaking mess, with that psychotic jester form or something…

He form-warped? But isn't that Black energy?


Yeah, the kid was still mostly Black back then, sorry I didn't clarify. This was WAY before he started shadowing White, ironically, he wasn't even male then. This was our female fronter at the time, s'far as I can recall, everything's so freaking blurry, sorry.


It's okay, I understand things from back then are hard for all of you to access now.


Yeah, no kidding, they haven't been touched in ages and frankly I think the kid massacred most of 'em way back when. Anyway, that's the snapshot. Him upstairs and going Hulk, and then downstairs the body is in catatonic shock because some kid from across the country is touching his hand and he is
freaking the heck out.

You said that.


I'm repeating it for emphasis, don't sass me. Anyway, yeah. That was it.


Hm. And you say that was 2008?


Or 2007. I'm assuming the latter because that's when stuff started to get serious.


So 5 years.


At least.


That's a long time.


For us? Yeah, no kidding, that's a freakin' century.


Has he shown any evidence of this before that? Or would you not know?


Geez, I don't know, I only showed up in 2006, and we still don't know who the heck manned the lost years. 2004-2008, pretty much. 2003 and earlier were the teenage girls, Jewel and Celebi mostly though, thank God.


Did they front for long?


Jewel and Cel? Yeah, at least two, three years from what I can gather. I never knew 'em, though, so I'd have to check the records. But 'fronting' was fuzzy as heck back then, there was switching all the time I'd assume. I don't know. I'm not thinking about that, that's not my division, I am here to help the kid and get him the heck out of this hellhole he's got himself stuck in. Get the hell out of him. Man that was a confusing sentence.


Made sense though.


Yeah, in some weird runaround way. Anyway, that's the trauma bit. At least, where I know it started with this. He had trouble in college after that but that's a whole different side of this topic…


Should we talk about that?


Maybe. Dude we can't do this like we're talking to an audience, that's just screwing things up. I… I just need to talk to you, all right? Forget the bloody Xanga session. Let's just talk. Where were we when we decided this needed to happen?


Uh, right here.


No no no, I mean attention-wise. What were we talking about?


…I don't recall. I'm sorry.


Think. Unplug from this whole business for a second and think. It had to be big enough to warrant a sudden session at 11 freakin' PM.


…The robe.


Yes, that's it, that freakin' robe, we did bring that up didn't we?


Yes! And the children, how they are tied to trauma too.


And we were wondering why the heck they were so strongly attached to it when J was too, heck yes, we figured this out.


No we didn't.


Don't laugh at me man, I mean we figured out where we were. Conversations are a bloody labyrinth up here.


And Jayce was talking to us. About the near-hack earlier.


Shoot I forgot about that. …He had a good point though.


About J?


Yeah. "Something tells me that wasn't J," he said, "not that sparkly-eyed guy." No kidding, it’s in his nature to stay the heck away from hacks and everything like them. But that's the entire problem.


He's never around when they happen.


Exactly.
So hell happens and who's manning the house? Not J, that's who. Unlucky us, we get stuck with either a suicidal fronter or a social witch or even a hacker themselves in the driver's seat, and none of them seem to care at all about what happens to the body or the people in it--

Or the soul.


Exactly, OR the soul, which is the biggest lethal problem here-- none of them care. None of them care at all how scarred we end up from all this. None of them. Except they're the ones that have to deal with the aftereffects, with the consequences and the trauma, every bloody time.




Hey, you okay?


Yes. No. It's odd.


Yeah, I hear that from J all the time.


No, it's… I'm okay. Personally. I am not okay with knowing that this is still such a severe problem we have to cope with…


You and me both, man,
and the rest of the freakin' System.

…I know. I'm sorry. I mean… I'm getting confused?


With?


No, not with. It's this channeling. I'm not used to it.


Yeah, what I'd give for a voice recorder up here. Look, do you want to quit, or--


No, no. This is important. I want to at least make some progress on this issue.


Good point. So where were we?


The robe. The children were being triggered by it. And then that girl began screaming at us when we entered the
grandmother's room.


Oh shoot, yeah, that was insane. She shows up all the time around the grandmother, did you notice?


Does she? Is that the same girl?


She's the screaming one, no kidding it's the same one, no one else acts like her.


Hm. Is she tied to trauma too, then?


That's what we're trying to figure out, actually. All of us I mean, not just you and me. She screams bloody murder about every bloody thing on the planet, saying she's going to "kill people" and she wants everything that harms her to die but for heaven's sake,
everything seems to hurt her!

Is she just hypervigilant?


You know what, she might be. She just might be rooted to that old tendency of J's, if you'll forgive the name. …He, she, whoever was fronting at the time, that person would view everything as a potential threat.
That started around college, at least I'm almost positive.

So prior to that, it was not as severe, or evident at all?


S'far as I can tell, yeah. Give me a minute…


You having trouble too?


Yeah. Headache in the body, it's late, things get confusing. Where were we. Hypervigilance. Heh, ironic because I kept telling the kid to do just that in the
opposite way a few years back. Watch out for hacks, don't project the bloody things onto everything.

Is that what he's doing??


Probably? If I had to guess, I'd say it's helping Julie more than it's hindering her. And Eros. Eros especially, I remember how Sugar and whoever was hijacking her kept freaking the heck out over that when he first showed up. "He makes everything a threat," they kept saying, "how is he not dangerous when he makes everything dangerous," well we don't have to worry about
that anymore, he's right up there with the most dangerous bitch in the System. But yeah, Inf, he sees threats in everything now because everything could be a threat with Julie around at all times. And that's bloody awful, but it's the truth.

So it's a legitimate fear.


Sadly. But it shouldn't be, y'know? And we've been working on that!
Sugar's been working on that, and when she showed up, her deal was "I'm going to murder anything that so much as looks at me the wrong way," specifically because she saw every little thing as a sexual threat too. Now she's let go of that, thank God, because she was sharing that anchor with a heck of a lot of malicious fragments, but the point still stands. That's an old mindset by our standards, but lately we've been fighting it, and we're making progress but this situation keeps getting worse in spite of it?

How so?


Kid, the hacks keep on bloody happening.


But you realize that not everything is a hack attempt.


Now
we do, yeah, at least most of us do upstairs. The kids are having a hard time with it, poor things are too bloody broken to change their perspectives easily. Same with J, at least his shattered parts. As he is normally, he literally is blind to that stuff, which shows that he's so deeply traumatized as a whole that he has to literally exist in a state of ignorance just to survive. That is unbearably sad. And it scares me to death.

Same here, Laurie. I don't like seeing him like this.


Yeah, you wouldn't, you love him just as much as I do, if not more.


Same amount.


…Probably. Yeah. Gotta stop downplaying my affection for the kid, I've got a bad habit of holding you guys up above me in that respect.


I've noticed.


Heh, have you really?


Yes. But that's not a problem, not if you're aware of it, and you realize it is incorrect, right?


No, it's not a problem for me, I'm fighting that battle, I know it's nonsense. J doesn't have that sort of perspective, somehow, I don't freaking know. Intellectually he
knows this "everything is dangerous" mindset is completely untrue, and yet the trauma in his gut keeps yanking him back down to "but we can't take that chance" mode.

I see.


Yeah. You'd think that we'd have hit a point where we can
stop worrying about hacks but hey, today happened, and that's just a sign that stuff is getting worse. We really need that inpatient therapy, I'll tell you what.

We do. But… that hack, you said it wasn't completed?


No, thank God. Someone showed up and started swearing up the freakin' hill at Julie, don't know who the heck they were but major props to them, apparently they got the kid the heck out of there, because nothing happened, as you can see in the data.


It cuts off.


Yeah, he must've dissociated. But the scary thing is that he was
aware there was a hack being attempted for a few freaking minutes before it, if that was him, but whoever it was didn't care at all.

You said that person said they had no free will.


They did say that. You heard J repeat that to us earlier. "I have no will of my own, so if someone else wills me to do something, I will do it," basically. Absolute garbage mindset.


It is.


Thank you. But that worries me, because he
also said that he still feels he SHOULD give in to that hell?! And I thought I nipped that mindset in the bud ages ago.

Which one?


The bloody obligation bit. "They say I SHOULD want this, et cetera, so I will FORCE myself to, or I simply will not let myself care and let them do WHATEVER the heck they want to me because THEY must be correct, not me!!"


Somebody's angry.


No kidding, Infi, you'd be seeing red too if this--


I am.


Oh. Geez, sorry man, I'm not used to your totally quiet way of emoting everything. That's kind of creepy.


Maybe. But tune in, you'll see that it's true.


Yeah, I'd rather not go near that, not after what you did to me yesterday.


Haha, you're still reeling from that?


Did you just
laugh?

It was funny! I didn't expect
you to do that. That's sweet.

What, my being thunderstruck by your insane emotional effervescence? Sheesh, man, that is the equivalent of getting a space station dropped on you on a summer morning. Out of freakin' nowhere, and holy
swords does it hit you hard.

Sorry.


You're still laughing, and I can't hold that against you, come on man now you've got me doing it too.


Better than being upset all the time.


Yeah. We've had a rough night, haven't we?


Yes. I wish it wasn't so.


So do I, man. …So, we still talking, or what?


It's 12:19. I'm not sure how much further we can go with this before it gets too late for comfort or safety.


Yeah, plus Boss will probably come hunting me down, "what the snow are you doing keeping my Apprentice up so late," except he'd never say that and he'd probably just show up without warning--


Hello!


Geez, Sandman, I wish the heck you wouldn't do that.

Hello, Sandman.


Hello Infi, hello Laurie. I figured I'd drop by for a moment. What are you talking about?


Your kid, everyone's kid, who the heck else?


My Apprentice? Is he doing well?


Yeah, your tone of voice says you already suspect what's up, don't you.


…I fear as much. He is not doing well, then.


No. Not very well. Infi and I are here trying to discuss out this trauma situation, get to the bottom of why he's so bloody scared all the time. Except I already know the answer to that. We all do. Just… it's hard to keep dealing with this, day after day, when the answers don't do
anything.

Are you sure it's the correct answer, then?


What else could it be?


…Forgive me Laurie, but I must ask for a question. You say you are trying to heal this trauma--


Understand
it. We can't do a thing to heal it if J won't step up to the plate himself. We know that.

Good, good. And I assume that is the biggest problem?


He won't do it! He's bloody terrified!


Of?


Of Julie, of
everything that reminds him of her, or Eros, who is badly corrupted now if you haven't heard--

I have heard. Unfortunately.


Yeah, and that's just a symptom of a bigger illness too. The kid is scared to death of intimacy, you can't touch him in
any sense without him freaking the heck out and trying to kill you, at least downstairs. He splinters apart completely. Upstairs he can't do that, he stays himself, so he shuts down and shatters and then we're dealing with splinters instead of alters or whoever the heck. I'm tired, Boss.

I know, Laurie. I am not surprised that you are. And you, Infi?


I am not tired so much as I am heartbroken.


Ah. That I understand too. So, do you have any leads?


On?


On what more you need to understand. It sounds like your main concern is
why the child cannot let go of the pain. Is that simply because it is constant?

Could be. It seems really bloody obvious when you're here pointing everything out, but the problem is that the roots are
deep, Boss. They're really deep and they're sucking the life out of him.

I know. I know. It worries me too.


…He said something recently about "liking things?"


Shoot, yes, we forgot to mention that! Boss, I've gotta tell you this specifically because I think it causes problems with you every once in a while.


With me?


With the kid's perception of you, you know what I mean. Infi just reminded me, it was either last night or this morning, but J comes up to me and says, completely dissociated, that… how the heck do I put this.


Intrusive thoughts.


Yeah. You know about those?


What sort of intrusive thoughts?


Sexual ones. Programmed ones. Tar-clogged lies straight up and through. Julie talk. He'll look at something and that freakin' broken record starts telling him that he wants to have sex with it, even if that's completely untrue, which it always bloody is.


That is a rather severe intrusive thought.


No kidding, Sandman, why the heck do you think I'm so worried about this? But he didn't put two and two together until this morning, apparently, because he told me that hey, the reason why that happens is because in his mind, "liking" something means he ultimately wants to have sexual relations with it.


Why?


Think about it. Or don't, actually, don't do that, ever. But it's exaggeration, it's blown totally out of proportion, and out of the realms of sense and sensibility. Somewhere along the line, he learned that the word "like" was… no, shoot, that's wrong. He was
told that the word "like" was often used in a relationship context? Y'know, like when teenage kids say they "like" someone. Usually they're talking about romance, not admiration, you feel me?

Mm-hmm. That is common.


Right. But it screwed with the kid's mind something fierce, because he didn't
understand that at that age, and for some freakin' reason, his paranoia kicked in and told him that that word could ONLY be used in a romantic context. You like that person as a friend, or a role model? Guess what, no you don't, you actually want to make out with them. Total garbage, but he drilled that into his own head out of fear, and that's when it got worse. Because then he learned that sexuality was a thing that existed, and THAT is what most kids his age were ultimately pursuing, God knows why, but you can see where this is going.

Yes. He ultimately assumed that liking things was sexual. I see. …That is a huge problem, Laurie.


Isn't it?! It's driving me freaking crazy trying to get him to un-learn that, but I can't find the cursed root that's keeping that evil weed propagating up here. Geez.


And you say this is affecting me because…?


Because he
likes you. He REALLY likes you, heck he even loves you, but it's all in that 100% kid-friendly innocent way he has. He loves you in the same way he loves a snowfall, on some level at least. But you're lucky. You're stuck with the innocent side of him all the time. He's free of this intrusive noise like that, or at least he sees it for what it is. Up here, sometimes, he can't. He breaks under pressure, or he gives in under too much pain, and then he decides that he's just going to let the intrusive thoughts do what they want and man that's not right.

No it's not, Laurie.


He doesn't "let them" do as they wish, Laurie. As Jayce said, you know he fights them. It's in his nature to protect innocence, and honesty, and truth.


So does he splinter?


Yes. He dissociates, and the others that come out listen to the intrusive voices, as those fronters are too terrified
to trust their own hearts. They are too damaged to listen to their own truth as they have been told, too many times, that it is wrong.


Hm.


So you see what I mean. It's complicated.


So it is.


Sorry for dragging you into this, Boss. I guess I just needed to vent at someone besides Infi-boy over here.


That's quite all right, Laurie. I love the child just as much as you do, of course I want to help… but I fear my assistance can only go so far?


How do you mean?


I cannot meddle directly with affairs up here. I can help him in his dreams, as I can. And I can swear to protect him with everything at my disposal whenever I am able, but I cannot interfere with these splintering occasions you mention simply because I am not part of this System in the way that you are.


I see. And that's fine, Sandman, believe me I appreciate your help more than you know as-is.


I know. Still, I truly wish I could do more.


You're doing enough, man, you're doing more than any of us could in that area. So thanks.


You're quite welcome, Laurie. Infinitii?


Hm?


I trust you will do everything in your power to help him, too.


I already am.


No. You know what I mean, child. I understand what you are. You are the stuff nightmares are made of, except without an ounce of that fear within you.


Whoa whoa, wait, what??


He is a nightmare, or at least, he has the potential to be one. A nightmare is only a darkened dream, after all. But for one such as him to exist, in a purely non-malevolent state, well, he must have a great and terrible purpose.


…How do you mean, Boss?


I believe you know
exactly what I mean, Laurie. And perhaps I am wrong, that could happen.

I don't think you're wrong, Sandman.


Hm. Well, in that case, Infinitii, do your job well.


I will.


I will depart now, Laurie, it is late enough as-is, and I do have a job to do.


Yeah, don't let us hold you up, sorry about that.


It is no trouble, Laurie. As I said, I wish I could do more, but I will do all I can. Tell the child not to listen to those thoughts, whenever you get the opportunity. I will do the same.


Hey, yeah, and can you keep an eye out for
real nightmares? Infi here can only eat the ones that sneak in upstairs.

He can
eat them, you say, child?

Yeah, is that a problem?


No, it is not a problem, but… they say you are what you eat, child. Be careful.


I am well aware of the consequences of consumption. I've… fallen ill from them before.


Do
be careful, Infinitii, please. You are more important than you know, to the child and to me.

How am I important  to you?


Well. You
are made of the stuff of dreams, aren't you? And you are part of my Apprentice, at least in soul, are you not?

Yeah, we kind of spoke about that last time.


So, my point is, if he is tied to a Sandman-in-training, this strange benevolent nightmare of yours, then he is tied to me in function as well, even if neither of us may fully understand that yet.


Hm. Tell you what, Boss, talking to you is bloody confusing sometimes.


Perhaps, but I am not so skilled with verbal language here either, you know.


Heh, probably not. Anyway, goodnight Sandman, I know you said you had places to be.


Indeed I do. Continue in your discussion, and do take care of the child. I wish you both well.


We will, boss-man. Thanks for the company.


Thank you, Sandman.


Thank you both, as well. Good night.


Well. Can't say that was as unexpected as I'd like it to be.


He seems to have a way of knowing.


Sandmen are seriously weird when it comes to time and space, so yeah, he probably did. Gotta say that "nightmare" bit was seriously interesting though.


It is. But would you know, that's what I was meaning to reiterate too.


What? The "you being part of Jewel" thing?


Not exactly. Moreso
what part I am, if you will put it that way.

Mm, good point. Yeah that's kind of what I was hoping to get at too.


Why's that?


Because… come on, Infi, you can do things with the kid on all sorts of levels that I can't even dream of doing. And I never would, frankly, that's not my job up here. But… really, it helps, when you get through.


The "when" is key, I think.


Yeah, no kidding. And it's the problem too. You
know what's wrong here, more than I ever will, more than I ever can. He's traumatized, yeah. That's obvious. Yeah, he's hypervigilant, his thought processes are screwed, he can't see straight when anything so much as hints at this sort of thing… but you get through anyway, and you see just how deep it goes. I haven't got a clue.

I think you do, Laurie. Awareness is yours.


Yeah, but so is Chastity, and I am locked out of most of that knowledge whether that helps or not.


You wouldn't touch it anyway?


Heck no, it'd likely kill me. Point is, that's not my job. My job is to protect the kid, keep him from killing himself, and help him manage this emotional disaster. Help him deal with triggers, help him get his head back on straight, pull him back up off the floor when he finds himself crumpled up down there.


Like he was yesterday.


…Yeah. Exactly like he was yesterday. And that's where you come in, too. You and your crazy emotional abilities. How the heck do you do that??


I told you, Laurie, it works with potential. Obviously, you have the potential for that, whether you know it or not.


Oh I know it, I know it way too bloody well, that's why I have all these iron walls up. To protect
me from that just as much as other people.

Why so?


Can't do my job very well if I'm an emotional mess, now can I?


You need to let it out though. You need to express it, or you will end up like Jewel.


Yeah. Yeah, that I know. So thanks for yesterday.


You're welcome. …And if you ever need me again--


Shut the heck up, man, no way am I ever asking for that sober again.


I didn't say sober.


You didn't
not say sober either, you lunatic.

My point is, the door is always open…


Don't you joke around with me, little man, that's not funny.


Would you be laughing if that wasn't true?


Heh, guess not. Aw, I couldn't be mad at you if I tried. You're too nice of a guy, girl, whatever.


Thank you.


So. Speaking of guy-girl-whatevers. How's J doing over there?


Still frozen. Just as well, that may be for the best.


Yeah, we'll let him out when this talk's done, we're going to need to manage the fallout from that. You mostly.


Emotionally?


Break him open is what. You saw him earlier, he was freakin' frozen, literally.


Yeah. That was frightening, actually.


You never seen anything like that either?


Not just that.
Frozen. That word. White energy slowed to a stop.

Oh. Shoot.


Yes, exactly. Not good.


No, I guess not.




Hey, you wanna call this quits? It's after 1 and I'm bloody tired, I don't know about you.


I thought you don't sleep.


I don't. Not usually at least, not naturally. But we're using the body right now and it is really freakin' tired, plus you heard what the boss-man said. If
he's off to work, then his Apprentice had better be right behind him.

Hm. Is it that easy to snap him back into Apprentice mode after something like this?


You tell me, man, you've seen how quickly he moves from one mindset to another.


That worries me.


Yeah, no kidding. It worries everybody. He's a mess up here and down there both.


How is he splintering up
here?

Because he can't manage the trauma
inside, either. That's the whole bloody reason we were born in the first place-- inner trauma. Our System was born from the ashes of a heck of a lot of psychological pain, plus Julie's assaults, all that business. And J broke to bloody pieces up here and that's where the dissociative disorder diagnosis came from. If he's gonna show dissociative symptoms downstairs, you'd better bet that's going to be happening upstairs too.

Hm. I guess you're right.


I am right, I've been dealing with this situation since I was born. I was born from the pain and love disaster in the first place, you know.


Pain and love? Is that why you pull his hair?


Haha, partly. Only partly. I mean it's… I was born from his brain thinking you can only love someone if you hurt them. Physical pain, atonement stuff.


Ah.


Yeah, the Undergrounders got that too, it's obvious with the way they treat the kids, they're total sweethearts when you get past all the blood and knives. Anyway, that's part of this trauma business too. Julie used sexual assault as her weapon and from what he's told me, that doesn't exactly hurt in the way a punch to the face hurts.


No, no it does't.


Yeah, you would know. Wait, have you ever been punched in the face?


No, and please don't offer to demonstrate.


Haha, I won't man, don't worry. But yeah, according to J that is one heck of a traumatizing experience for a kid because shoot, he had no capacity to understand it!


Do you?


No, I am literally repeating what he told me.


Heheh.


You wanna talk about it? Seems to me you know more about this topic than Julie does.


Of course. She only uses the blackened side of it. It's full of Tar.


What about the Plague?


I know little about that. From what I've been told, it's mostly spiritual egotism. Christina was the one who exemplified that. We don't know many plagued individuals from what I've seen.


No, mostly Tar corruption. That's Julie, Eros, Missy, Bridget, you get the picture.


But… didn't they use spiritual egotism?


I think they jumped off it, as a springboard, you know? Because J tells me to this day, the
worst part of the whole sexual abuse thing was her telling him that it was "God's will" that he submit to that. Which is an obvious and heartless lie.

Did she really believe that.


No, obviously not, she just said it because she knew it would screw with his head. And it was what society was telling him, according to him. Sheesh I don't know, this isn't my area of expertise, I told
you to talk about it so don't throw it back at me.

What is there to talk about?


I dunno man, we're trying to understand why the kid can't seem to heal from this, and if I'm not mistaken, that's been
your job since April.

I see what you're getting at.


Yeah.


So. What is there to say, even then? You know what his trauma is. You know his main areas of fear and pain. What else can I tell you?


I saw the way he reacted to you earlier. He always used to say he was never afraid of you. What the heck was that?


He was frozen. That was not him, that was definitely the splintering phenomenon.


But that means there
was fear towards you at that point!

It was because of the physical contact, you know that as well as I do.


Has he ever done that
before, though?

…I don't know.


What the heck do you mean, you don't know?!


…I don't. Now that you mention it, that could be our one big problem. The simplest thing. Touch.


He didn't freak out yesterday, did he?


No. But you saw what he was like yesterday. He was already shut down.


…Shoot. Good point.


In other cases he hasn't been shut down when we are together. But… now that you mention it…


You think you missed it?


Yes. I think I've missed it. And that is partly my fault, too. I was sick for a very long time.


Yeah, that parasite thing.


That was a direct result of being with him, you know.


The heck, it
was?!

Yes. I have no other explanation. "You are what you eat." I could only try to clear out so much corruption from him before I would fall victim to it myself, even if I was not aware of it at the time. I slipped, Laurie, I slipped quite often. And if he was gone, well, I would have no way of knowing.


…Shoot.


But you are right. Maybe he hasn't 'freaked out' at my presence before. But how often is he aware of things upstairs? When he has to reach out to remember what I look like, I wonder.


…Yeah.


We are going in circles.


We usually do, on this topic. Man.


Do you want to close up for tonight?


Maybe. Geez. We didn't get very far, did we?


How do we know? We are trying, that is what counts.


Yeah. …Listen, Infi, I just… I don't want a repeat of yesterday, ever.


In what sense?


Heh, that wasn't a joke. I mean I don't want to have to deal with two solid hours of Chaos sobbing and Genesis shouting and you looking desperate as heartbreak incarnate and me not knowing
what the heck to do, and the entire time J is sitting there looking like a marble statue and no one can reach him. No one.

He was shut down. Just as he was today.


I know. And I don't want this turning permanent, you hear me?


Neither do I, Laurie.


I know. But… listen, Infi, I'm scared. There, I admitted it. I'm honestly scared that we might not be able to reverse this.


Laurie, Laurie. Listen. You said it yourself that J forgets all of that when he is in tune with himself.


But he freaking
blinds himself to it all, that's not being in tune with anything!! How the heck is he supposed to heal from something if he won't even bloody acknowledge that he's bleeding to death from it?! Even the bloody Undergrounders are ticked off and exhausted from this, heck this is the first time in my LIFE I've seen Razor actually REFUSE to cut someone because "I don't want to be dragged back down again," for heaven's sakes even SHE is standing up to corruptive influences and J keeps giving in or ignoring them!!

He has been through more than all of us combined.


Yeah. I know he has. But that doesn't mean a thing when it comes to whether or not we can heal this, we CAN heal
this--


See?


…Shove off, you little rascal, how the heck do you do that.


Ask the right questions. Push the right buttons. I daresay you are more skilled than I at that, though.


Maybe. But really, that was good. Still, you're right. I'm right. I'm just scared enough to lose sight of that, maybe that's the real thing I'm trying to say.


I know. Maybe that's J's problem, too.


Yeah, it is. But wait, you mean it's not total blindness?


No.


Yeah, I know that. Part of him knows what is going on. I've seen him deal with it like a pro on the impossibly good days. But when fear steps in, everything goes dark, and he won't so much as look at it. We're going in circles, man, you're right. I think we should close this up.


Maybe we shouldn't discuss this?


You think we're overthinking it or what?


Probably. The main concern is that J is entirely out of tune with his heart when this happens.


He locks himself out. He's too bloody scared. And he can't forgive himself, that's the real thing I'm worried about. He blinds himself to the pain because he can't forgive himself for giving in, even when that was the only bloody option he could even consider safely taking back then. You gotta look at it in context. He was scared to death. I KNOW he fought her. But after a while… survival kicks in. Hopelessness kicks in. And I'm not saying that's a good thing. I'm just saying it happened as it happened, and he's
gotta forgive himself for being weak in a moment of terror. That happens to the best of us.

He would forgive you.


You know what, I'm not so sure. There's this really deep and virulent
hate that the louder alters up here have got, and I know it springs from him at its source. Somewhere in him there is enough rage and pain and hatred to kill a man, but only when it is tied to this sexual terror. He will forgive you for holding a gun to his head, but so much as make a pass at him and he's at your throat. Literally, I have seem some of these dastards up here threaten to that to perfectly freakin' innocuous people.

They can't tell the difference.


No. They can't. And you heard J say that too, when he's like this. "I can't differentiate between faces anymore." That is the saddest thing I've heard in my life, practically.




He can't. That bloody pain is so deep that if you tap him on the shoulder, his brain immediately thinks you're trying to rape him. The fear is that strong. No one can get close to him anymore without triggering that same fear, except the side of it that makes him shut down solid just so he can "survive it." When a man thinks a hug from a family member is potentially a gateway to sexual assault that is some
seriously screwed up stuff.

He's hurt. He can't see straight.


Yeah. But where the heck do we find a spiritual optometrist? I thought YOU were that, with your freakin' eyeball overload, but shoot… he's afraid of you too, now, isn't he?


I think it's the opposite, and that's why we got this reaction. He
knows now, Laurie. Thanks to me, he knows there is another side to that. It's just energy.

Yeah.


And he understands that there isn't a bone in my body that would hurt him.


You haven't got any bones, weirdo.


That isn't the point. …Well, maybe it is.


Heh. Go on, though.


The point is that I can use the same energy Julie did because it is not inherently tied to her sins. Nor is it tied to that act, at all. But… I had to start by showing him that you
can be touched, you can be loved, without it being tainted by lust or pain or trauma. And that was a difficult road.

I can imagine.


No, you can't. You really can't.


Heh. You got me there.


But you understand the difficulty.


Yeah, except you're going about overpassing it in a direct way.


'Overpassing?'


Getting past those freakin' blocks and breaking them down from the inside. Sometimes that's the way to do it, man, yesterday showed that for sure.


True. …Was that a joke?


Not intentionally, but why the heck not, sure.


Still. It scared
me, Laurie, when I couldn't get through to him with that.

You did, I saw him crying over there.


That was
mine. I can do that as well as bring out the emotions of others, remember. When I held him he was expressing my tears, of love and frustration, as I realized there was a wall of ice in front of me that even I could not find a way to break through.

…So what the heck do we do now?


We burn it down. That's all I know how to do at this point in time, Laurie. We burn it down.


How?


I don't know.


Shoot. That makes two of us.


…Maybe we should close this up.


That's what you said, two pages ago.


I know. But I like talking to you. You care, as much as I do, in much the same way.


Ironically.


Not really, Laurie, that's the point. J seems to have infected everyone with even a little part of his fear lately.


…I wouldn't be surprised. But that's a good point. Sorry.


It's fine. As long as you are aware of it. I'm too tired of these misunderstandings to let them go unaddressed anymore.


Yeah, especially when you do what you do. Fixing what you're fixing. You know.


Laurie.


Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound that way.


No, it's all right, it's still accurate.


Heh. Guess so. But that's weird as heck, though. How does the kid vacillate between those two mindsets so bloody quickly?


Splinters?


Circles, holy flaming swords we need to quit.


Hehe.


No really, it's 20 to 2, this is ridiculous. We need to just… summarize this whole thing, go hit him over the head with it, remind him that he KNOWS the truth of this and really maybe that’s all any of us need to do right now. Just remember that we
know. Everything isn't a threat. Every moment isn’t a danger. Except it is, and… confound it, I don't want to be thinking like this.

Then don't.


No, it's just that Julie is still doing this, today was proof, is all we have to do is look at her and call her out on her lies? Because if I'm not mistaken, we've TRIED to do that and she doesn’t care.


Maybe we just need to run, like our fronter did today.


Yeah. You know what sure. Asserting the truth only does so much when she's more concerned about getting her kicks through assaulting our boy here. Bottom line, get him the heck out of there, THEN we review where we stand.


It's difficult.


No kidding, and I'm tired. Little bit of number synchronicity at the bottom of the page there, makes me feel a little better.


You watch out for those too?


Sure, they're meant for us too, not just him. And that one there, that just reminded me of what I think I've been trying to say this whole entire time.


What?


Kid's out of tune with his heart. We're thinking too much in words. We're trying so bloody hard to get a grip on this mess that we're forgetting that it doesn't matter a bit in the big picture, not in this way. Not in this way. We've gotta learn from it, but we need to let go of it too. And that's difficult.


They say a lesson will repeat until you have learned what you need to from it.


Yeah, and this one won't go away. So what the heck else is there to learn from it that we don't already know?


How to let go?


How to let go, and move on, and stop giving her all this power over us is what. If we know the bloody truth about what's happening here, if we can see through her lies, then why the heck do we keep getting caught up in the old Tar again?


Perhaps Jewel isn't as free of it as we think?


Geez I don't know. All I know is that my brain hurts and I am tired of talking and I might actually sleep tonight because wow, I am tired. Do you sleep?


Yes.


Cool. I don't, I gotta watch out for danger. But this body fatigue is rubbing off on me and holy swords I don't know how he deals with this every night, it is overwhelming.


It is. So should we close up?


Yeah, please, let's do that. Hey, thanks for talking with me man, I appreciate it.


You're welcome. It's nice to have someone to talk to about these things.


Yeah, you and I can kind of connect on these topics, I've realized. Don't give me that look, I will kill you.


Sorry. I had to.


Heh. I give up, I can't think.


Do you want me to close the session then?


Yeah, hang on a second. I'm falling asleep standing up and that's not going to quit until I get the heck out of this channel, so give me a moment to say something stupid.


Oh boy.


You think you're such a comic genius, shut up. Sheesh, is this what being drunk feels like? No wonder the body is forbidden from alcohol. Geez.


You were saying?


I was
saying. You're a pretty great guy. I really appreciate everything you've done for Jewel. For Jay. Shoot. Go take that arrow out of him, bring him over here.

You sure?


Sure. Geez. Hurry up, I can't keep my eyes open, this is the most annoying thing I've experienced in weeks.


Hold on, J, this will be just a second.


… …??


Ssh. It's okay. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you.


…Infi?


Hey, nice to hear that voice again.


I think he's okay.


What happened?


You… let's not talk about it now.


Why not? are you hiding something from me too


No, no, I… it's late. It's 2 in the morning. We're all having a hard time thinking.


oh. I hurt you did i.


No. …You came close.


ah. now I remember. sorry about being so traumatized. it's hard to reel that in when it gets really bad, I don't know
why that is?


We've been trying to figure that out actually.


is laurie drunk?


No, just ridiculously tired, get the heck over here, both of you.


i can't walk.


Are you sure?


mm..maybe. hold on. hold up too. both. …nnno I don't want to do that, carry me.


What?


you heard me I'm tired too don't let me go all crazy-morphing when I might go straight-up crazy again please.


Okay.


thankyou.


…You're welcome.


youre slipping.


A little.


Shoot, Infi's slipping??


whoa you woke up fast


When trouble starts I gotta be awake, kid, I've got more important things to do than sleep. Infi, what the heck is up?


…I think we're getting too close to sleep for me to be safe.



The heck does that mean? Nightmares??


why would he be scared of nightmares


No, he--


I'm too tied to the Black energy in the System, Jewel.


jay please


Oh. I'm sorry. Jay. You're back?



mostly kind of just really tired keep talking


I'm made of Black energy. When it gets late, that influence gets stronger. White energy tends to rule during the day. It is the opposite at night.


Geez, that explains a
heck of a lot.

Write that down. We'll need to remember that.


Infi, dude, you really are slipping, you want to check out first? I'll take care of Jay.


No. Let's close this all at once. Please.


maybe we can do something together I don’t know make up for friday morning


Sheesh, kid, it’s a little too late for that.


no, barriers down, this is good.


Maybe so, but that's usually blindness, kid. You can't be a Care Bear and not care about the bad in the world, you know? Be all sparkles and rainbows, sure, but don't bloody pretend that everything is suddenly a-okay as a result. Some stuff needs to be healed first. Some wounds need to be set or cleaned up before they can heal properly. And some of that damage scars. You know that.


yeah but scars arent that bad theyre kind of pretty remember what xenophon said


…You remember Xenophon?


a little bit she was my daughter right?


Shoot are you saying that as
data or do you actually remember??

little bit of both I think.


Holy swords.


He's getting close to the archives. The Black energy.


Where everything is stored?


Yes.


Infi, forgive me for saying this, but half of me wants you to just go the heck to sleep, and half of me wants to see you and J ride out this poet mode until 3AM at this rate.


i could do that


I don't know if I could.


Hey, no pressure dude, just saying.


No. It's not pressure. It is pressure. It's pressurized.


What is, you?


Yes.


Why?


J. Like this.


am I effervescing too much infi or are you picking up on empathy stuff like chaos used to


Man this is creepy, why the heck is he remembering things when he's not even half conscious?


Laurie I am slipping out of awareness and I cannot guarantee anyone's safety if that happens.


infi infi darling just let go and go to sleep. I'll be okay. you'll be okay. it's late. laurie close this up.


Right now?


right now. promise I wont do anything afterward. too late youre right. did you talk about anything good


We were trying to figure out how to fix that frozen state of yours, kid, we're worried about the fact that you're still getting trauma reactions from everything--


oh you mean when im awake?


Yeah, of course when you're awake--


yeah that means im still stuck to that I guess. not when I'm almost asleep like now. different realm. cant touch me. if that makes sense. I can see stuff like this everythings okay.


Can you see the past, the incidents that
made this trauma hell happen, or would you shut down?



Jewel. Jay. Whoever the heck I'm talking to,
answer me.

…it's really hard not to shut down looking at that. youre right. im sorry. why is that?


This stuff is deeper than we'd like, J.


i dont know if I have a name right now. infi needs to go to sleep im worried about him


You're right, this is going nowhere tonight, not at this point. I'm calling this quits.


hey everythings okay though don’t end it on a bad note I love you okay


Kid, that's the bloody reason we started this session two hours ago. We love you too, more than we know what to do with it when things like this happen. But you need sleep for God's sake, so we're ending this now.


okay goodnight


You heard the man, that's it for this mess of a session. See you invisible readers again soon enough.


infi are you okay


I'll be okay. I'll be okay in a few minutes.


you don’t seem sick


I'm not sick. I'm just… there's too much at once. Overload.


ohhh okay I know what that’s like


J, what the heck, I closed this up, why is this going on the record?


I'm not coming through correctly, does anyone know why that is?


J you are a bloody maniac, close this page up, right now.


No I'm just wondering why I keep splintering-- ah what the heck, I'm late for work anyway, let's close this up.


That's what I said.


Infi's going to be fine, I can feel it, I'll make sure. You're okay?


I'm just getting angry that this headtrip of a session isn't over yet.


But you're okay?


As okay as I bloody well can be. Yeah, I'm fine, seeing you smile is making it hard to be mad, even if it's a cause for worry.


Why? The smiling?


Is it genuine?


…Yeah. Somewhere deep down it is. I'm still floating dissociated from what I need to heal from, but it's too late to do that tonight anyway.


Ask your boss. I'm sure you'll get some progress in overnight if you get moving now.


Good point. Infi are you holding up? …He gave me a thumbs-up, that's oddly out of character, he really must be slipping.


Infi what the heck is going on.


It's getting worse, I'm going to end up degenerating if I don't get to sleep.


Okay whoa I really do need to quit this then goodbye.

 



 



thoughts.

Oct. 7th, 2013 12:14 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

Just a jumble of random floating concerns today. There's a tornado watch so I don't want to get too invested in an update, just in case it stars raining sideways and I have to run down the cellar.

First off. I did manage to finish A Swiftly Tilting Planet yesterday-- as it turns out, the section I dreaded re-reading (the part when Charles is Within Brandon Maddox, in the witch-hunting times) was extremely short, and did not take up the majority of the book as I thought it did. After that ended it was easy. The book did hold several important points that rang just as true as they did originally-- most of what Gaudior said, actually-- but there was one part that jumped out at me louder than it ever had before.
Pages 197 through 200. Charles is Within Chuck Maddox when the boy suffers a traumatic brain injury, and loses his ability to stay rooted in physical reality. A voice calls to Charles then, from within the blackness of pain, and tells him that it's time to leave Chuck, he can do nothing now, come out. It claims it is a unicorn, there to help, there to aid him on his mission, speaking gently and kindly. "Time is of the essence... if Mad Dog Branzillo is to be prevented from starting a holocaust then you must not delay." "There's a terrible urgency about what you are about to accomplish... you were chosen because of your special gifts, and unusual intelligence... you are in control of what is going to happen."
And then Charles Wallace says no.
"It was trying to use my high I.Q. and trying to control things that got us into trouble in the first place. I don't know what I'm supposed to use, but it's not my intellect or strength... and I've never come out of Within on my own. It's always happened to me. I'm staying Within."
And with that, the Unicorn shrieked, flying away with a howl, an Echthroi in disguise.
That made me wonder. So much. Am I being misled? I believed that Echthroid-unicorn too, right up until Charles spoke. Am I that dangerously naive? How do I know when I'm being led astray? How can I trust my own judgment?

I have this nagging and upsetting thought that if I tell my therapist this, "I want to just let it all go and forget," her response will simply be "okay, do that." Which bothers me greatly.
I don't like unquestioned support or agreement. I've had that happen in a malicious manner too many times. Ideally, I would want her to respond by asking me what brought me to that decision. Why is that the one decision I landed on, as opposed to the other possibilities? And I would explain to her, how I feel all my past suffering is not only fake and stupid, but irrelevant, and how I can't stand feeling trapped by this "mental disability" that has haunted me for a decade, and how I just want the symptoms to stop, because they DON'T stop even when I do everything in my power to ignore them and let go of everything tied to them.
I don't want her to just agree with a decision of mine JUST because "I" made it. It might be a stupid, ignorant, uninformed decision. I would ideally want her to help me test that decision in ways I couldn't have thought of myself, to see whether or not it held up under such scrutiny. If it collapsed, then fine, let's fine a more beneficial, wiser option. If not, then let's start working towards it.
But don't, please don't ever agree with me without testing me first. I don't often trust myself to be right.


I've been weirdly dizzy these past few days, to the point where it sometimes feels like the house is sliding out from under me. My exercise schedule has been thrown off by that, too, plus the oddly pervading weakness I had last week. I really don't like this dizziness though. I can't see straight, it makes me feel sick. Everything is blurry and I keep dissociating because I can't get my eyes to focus clearly enough to look out a window without feeling like I'm looking into another dimension. I keep getting headaches and wanting to throw up, the room keeps spinning, something is wrong, I'm scared.

I got really sick two nights ago, I think. My brother was watching Attack on Titan, because he kept talking about it when I was trying to eat and that made me dissociate, so I lost about two hours of time. When I came back, I was nauseous and in a lot of pain, but I couldn't remember what I had eaten. I got so distressed over this that I guess I went to my room, because the next thing I remember (secondhand) is lying down on my bed, sobbing hysterically and repeating "I'm sorry, I don't want to be a worm, I don't want to be the whore of Babylon" over and over. I don't know how long that lasted and I have no idea what happened afterwards, because my memory doesn't pick up clearly again until last night, when I started reading Many Waters. I think? The locations are all impossibly off, I think I'm really remembering last weekend... but you see what I mean. My memory is in all these chopped-up little pieces and it's scary. I never know what's going on anymore. I try so hard to push through the day normally, but how can I fake normalcy when I don't know what "normal," or "healthy," is for me?

Weird intrusive thoughts keep happening. I don't know if they're just thoughts or people, because they fight with each other and they talk to me and they try to move my body. I end up talking to them without wanting to, just to get them to be quiet. Then I feel awful because "you're not supposed to acknowledge them," but then the angry zealot ones start condemning me for it, "suit yourself, choose the sinner's path by ignoring us," and get me on such a paranoid guilt-trip that I end up doing whatever they say even if it's begrudgingly, even if they snicker and laugh when I obey, even if things go badly for me and they roar with laughter and say it's "God's will." It's scary. This is worse than it was when I was younger and I didn't think it would ever come back.
Last night when I came home, I do remember that my grandmother's friend was visiting to talk, as he always does on Sundays (he's lonely and likes company). And for whatever reason, something in my head started hissing, "not that bastard again, I swear I'll kill him, get him out of my house." I was horrified, I asked why in the world they hated him? He did nothing wrong! But the reply scared me, as it made sense, in a twisted way.
"He doesn't let us do anything." That was answer #1. Since that man sits in our kitchen to talk, and we were hungry but have severe problems with eating in front of other people, that voice concluded that he was in our kitchen specifically to bar us from eating or drinking anything. They saw it as a malicious act.
Answer #2 was worse. "Why do you want to kill him," I asked. The response I got wasn't verbal, it was emotional, psychological, physical. And it frightened me. Here was an old man, in our kitchen, and when I walked in he'd look at me. Just a look, "who's at the door," then go back to talking. But the voices interpreted that as a lecherous glance, or worse, an actively malevolent one. "He's going to abuse us!!" they screamed. "He KNOWS, he knows what a whore you are, he KNOWS you want him to hurt you, so he will if he ever gets the chance!!" And that is how they see him. As a permanent potential threat. Just like they see everybody else. "Kill them before they kill us." It's sick. It's so sick and they never shut up. I wish I could go out in public without being crushed by their fear, but it scares me too. I shouldn't be, but I'm more scared of the way I can't "see" people. I only ever see facades, acts, masks. If I walked up to a stranger and tried to speak with their soul, I would be stopped by an ego, or a defense construct. It's so hard to reach people. And that's what scares me. But they, the other people in my head, they hate those barriers. They hate the dark parts of people that lurk below the surface, the animalistic instincts and programmed drives, the shadows that everyone holds, that only surface in times of desperate survival, blinding rage, or maniacal fear. The voices in my head hail from those same places, but they hate themselves too, hate their cursed existences, and they hate everything that keeps them trapped there. It's so sad. It really is.

Yesterday evening was weird and worrisome. I walked into my room and looked at my workspace, again realized how it doesn't get much light from the windows, it's stuck in that dark corner. And it's been there for several months so I needed a change badly. So I took everything out of it, and rotated it, trying to find a better position. The problem? There's a space between the windows and the right wall, where there is a corner that shadows get stuck in. And no matter what I did, I couldn't escape that shadowy corner. Turn it one way, the desk blocks the windows and the corner shadows my workspace. Turn it again, now I'm stuck in the corner and there is no light on the desk. Again, and the workspace overshadows my bed, while I am once again in the corner. It was driving me nuts, I was frustrated to the point of tears. All I wanted was sunlight on my work desk, couldn't I get that? Why was that shadowy corner so loathsome to me? I turned the desk so that the right corner fit into the wall corner, and I had one window shining onto my work desk, BUT in doing so, it left a 30cm space between the desk and the wall, with the shadowy corner leading into that space.
I am dead serious, when I saw that I started weeping like a panicked child. That passageway by the dark corner terrified me, and I didn't know why. I tried to explain it to my grandmother and she told me to stop acting like a baby and just leave it there. But I couldn't, it was scaring me. I asked myself why, why are you so scared? And a voice replied, "the demons crawl up from those shadows." I got a fleeting mental image of a trapdoor leading into a basement, right in that shadowy corner, and awful devils emerging from it to enter my room. The fear was tangible, and I hurriedly shoved the desk back against the wall, but now my workspace no longer had light on it. I think I actually sat down and cried for a while, I know someone began screaming "just burn all my work, I don't deserve this, I'm doing nothing but hurting everyone else." For a time I was convinced that, since my workdesk was always in the way of the windows, I was "stealing everyone else's light" for selfish purposes, like some evil creature. Putting my desk in front of the windows was doing nothing but preventing others from receiving holy light, while I sucked it up like a thief, and that dark corner poured evil into the room. I was distraught, really, it's scary to look back on.

 

But you see that one train of thought return: "I'm inherently evil, every action I take is causing intentional harm to good living beings." So I'm paranoid. I'm afraid to even get dressed in the morning because "what if these colors together will radiate bad energy from me to people??" I refuse to wear pink and black together, some blues are dangerous, I won't touch most yellows. "It's bad, it will make you sick, it will make other people sick, it will make THEM louder." And I'm so scared that I just wait for the voices to tell me what to wear, and then I wear it. I still can't shake the feeling that I'm a demon that incarnated, some awful loathsome thing, and this life is a struggle for me to try and overcome my own fallen nature, greater than that of any human. I KNOW and accept the doctrine that God's love is unconditional, even for me, "whether or not I deserve it." But then I think about what I've heard about that. Yes, God loves me as His creation, but didn't He place me here, then? Isn't my evil state HIS plan, His will? Wouldn't that make the angry zealot voices in my head 100% right, in saying that it is God's will that I suffer because I'm meant to suffer? That I'm NOT supposed to get out of this? I guess I could deal with that if it were for a greater purpose, but... see, there's a bit of a problem with that mindset I think.
Remember my old 2008 belief of being a "waste-lock," a canister for all the awful sin in the world, the fervent belief that I was the sole most evil person on the planet SOLELY because I HELD all the evil in other people? And if I died, I would take the evil with me, and everyone else could live in peace? But I couldn't kill myself or it would let the evil OUT and infect the world? Which is why I kept begging other people to kill me for a while. Always too scared to commit suicide because "that would be the single most horrible act you could do to the world, you'd be hurting other people even in your death, you bastard." Convinced that I was the focal point of every nightmare, every sin, every iota of corruption. And the sick part is that some days I really hoped that was true, I REALLY wanted it to be true... if all that evil was in me, then everyone else was safe. EVERYONE else could be happy. Once I died they would all be free.

 

I thought about that a lot as a kid. "If I had to resign myself to oblivion, in order to save everyone else, could I do it?" It was the thought that I would have to relinquish not only my salvation, but my existence, in order for all of humanity to be freed from their suffering and brought, joyfully and forgiven, to God. I don't know why I thought I had to be some sort of scapegoat for existence, but it haunted me almost constantly. And I chose yes, you know. I decided, many many years ago, that if I had to choose between MY going to heaven and everyone else, ever, going to heaven... then I'd be the only person in hell, forever. I'd sacrifice that much.

That's what scares me about this "mental disorder," did you know? Because, everyone talks to me like "one day you're going to get better!" "one day you're going to be just like you once were!" and they don't realize what that means. "Get better" meaning... what? That I'll suddenly become whoever I was at age 7 again? I don't know who that was! But it feels like no one wants ME to get better. They want me to just go away, forever, and die, so they can have their mouthy 7-year-old daughter with the bad temper and selfish attitude back. She's long gone, I don't know how to tell you that, she's been gone for a very, very long time. But no one wants me to live. No one wants us, we're the "problem."
People smile at me and say "one day you'll be the person we remember." Whoever that was. And that's the point! They want ONE person to survive, the one person they decided they liked, and everyone else will DIE.
It feels like that childhood sacrifice, brought to terrible reality at long last. "You have to die, FOREVER, and forfeit all chance of happiness or salvation, so that this ONE person can come back to life and make other people happy." That's the sentence we get, every time someone else talks about our "recovery."
And the horrible thing is, I'm depressed enough to just say "okay, then let me die, I don't care anymore"... but... there are some days when I'm not. There are some days when a LOT of us are not. Sometimes I'll just sit outside and think, "the trees are really pretty today," or I'll hear Laurie or Knife talking about how cool it is to be able to walk, or hear music, or smell flowers, or look at Christmas lights. Sometimes I'll see one of the little kids out, hugging a teddy bear, or reading a book, totally happy for a second. Sometimes I'll feel like, maybe this isn't so bad, maybe we can all be happy one day, wouldn't that be amazing? Maybe all the pain we were born from can just go away, and we can all live together. Wouldn't that be nice.
And then someone says "I hope all your voices go away and you're back to normal" and it feels like an arrow to the heart.
"Normal" for them means shopping and movies and games and loud laughing. But we're not like that, we're quiet and gentle, why do people act like there's something "wrong" with us even when we're trying to be happy?
"I want you to be normal," they say, and it sounds like, "it doesn't matter whether or not you're happy." Our happiness doesn't matter. As long as everyone else is "happy." That's what matters, right?
"Would you die, to resurrect a child who is long dead," they seem to ask. "Would you integrate, and abandon any chance of life and happiness you may have, to make everyone else happy?"
Would I? Should I?
I don't know.


I'm feeling so sick. The nausea and dizziness are overwhelming, I want to vomit. I'm sorry, I have to go.

 




 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 
Some benevolent, "big" voice spoke to Laurie and I last night, explaining to us the roots of a lot of the problems we are having.
It was surprisingly revelatory, more than a little shocking, and it made a disturbing about of sense. I wasn't aware of a lot of the connections it presented, and neither was Laurie-- which is a first!
I don't know if it was Infinitii. It presented its message in huge glowing letters and images, but it had no face, and its voice wasn't exactly "audible." However it was friendly and definitely rooted in headspace, which was a relief (outside voices aren't very nice). Also notable was that it didn't mention Infinitii, which was a tipoff for me concerning the topic-- Infi doesn't like talking about himself in that context, as it's emotionally difficult for him. But I don't know. Whoever it was, though, they had access to info that EVERYONE ELSE had forgotten about, buried, or overlooked.

That's enough of an intro, though; let's get to the business.
I don't know exactly how it started. I remember walking out of the kitchen at like 2AM, and Laurie was trying to talk to me. I wish I could paraphrase our conversation, but my memory doesn't work well chronologically, and I can only tell you bits and pieces. So let's try.
You'll notice the post immediately before this, talking about how so many spiritual people nowadays say reality is a "cosmic dream" and so taking it too seriously means that we're just "lost in the game." I've been trying to see life this way, but the problem is that I tend to twist this comprehension in my mind. If it's just a game, why is there still such a huge emphasis on "karma," and past lives, and all that? Why is the game so complicated and trapping, if it's fake? So I tend to get obsessive, freaking out over every tiny action being "wrong" or "right," because I don't want to play the game anymore and yet the rules say that if I mess up this round, I HAVE to do it over. So that makes it very difficult, some days, for me to see it all as a dream... and that's simply because I'm still looking at it wrong.
Laurie reminded me of that. My mind likes to think that, once you realize it's a dream-- poof, it's gone. You wake up. No more illusion. But that's not literally true. You don't die the instant you realize that this life is more than it appears on the surface. Instead you keep living it, KNOWING that the trials and pains of this world are temporary, and that there's something better after all this that we need to live for instead. On the contrary, I keep invalidating the entire experience, believing that "if it's just a dream, why should I pretend any of it is real?" means "ignore everything because it's fake." Laurie said that wasn't the smartest option. Why the heck would we even be born here if there wasn't a "reason for the game", she asked? The point is that, in this life, we experience things that we can't experience out of it, in order to learn lessons and grow. There are struggles and sufferings here that cannot exist in eternity, but going through them NOW is vital to how we experience the afterlife? Part of me is baffled by that-- if these shadows aren't truly "real" then why do they even matter now? if we're meant to be light then why this "becoming" what we already allegedly are?-- but I guess that's the point of a "game." I won't try to understand it with my brain, that never works. It's all so confusing.

Anyway she said that's the only thing I really had to remember right now... that, underneath it all, and despite it all, I was untouched by the "game", by the bad dream. No matter what happened to us here, it wasn't forever. When this life ends, one day, we won't be inherently tainted by what we experienced here. I hope.

And that is the one thing I'm having a VERY hard time accepting.
I was raised as a strict Roman Catholic, something I'm still struggling with, because they taught me that "you get ONE life, and if you mess up, then you get to suffer eternal hellfire after you die." In that mindset, your soul IS forever tainted by the "bad things" you do here... and that is made even more terrifying by the fact that everyone has a different opinion of what is "good" or "bad." How do I know what actions of mine are damning me to hell? That's what's haunted me since my childhood, turning me into a paranoid wreck.
Laurie says that's flat-out nonsense. She doesn't believe in that sort of moral relativism, or paranoid religiosity. In her mindset, no one "accidentally" burns forever. Still, there are so many spiritual teachings I still struggle with. A lot of headsvoices have no problem adopting clearer and less brutal mindsets, which is a huge relief when I can't think straight thanks to my old programming, which Christina seems hellbent (ironically?) on perpetuating "lest I suffer the righteous wrath of God." We'll get to that later.
Point is, this life isn't the final reality. There's something beyond this, something so much more real and true and beautiful that it makes this life seem like a "game" in comparison. Still... I have to acknowledge that, even being seen as a "game," it's no plaything. There are stakes, there are sides, and there's a set of rules we have to follow. It's just like any game. But we forget that it ends one day. And when it's over, or when we look away from the screen for just a moment, suddenly we realize that there is more to EVERYTHING than this. Yes, we learned from the game, and maybe we had a lot of fun playing it, or maybe it was excruciatingly painful to endure... but at the end of the day it's just a game. It's not forever. Outside of the game, there is only Light and Love... or the lack thereof. Everything here that we see as bad, or evil, or lacking, or cruel... it's the result of an ignorance or rejection of that Light and Love, in one way or another. And yet, that Love-Light itself (or Himself, if you're Catholic too) allowed such "shadows" in order for us to learn and grow and BRING that Light & Love TO those places, to "win the game" in amazing ways. But outside of this game, in the true reality, there's only Light. Choose the dark, the absences, the anger and pride and apathy and blind entertainment, and you will become that very thing. You'll be cut off from Love forever, by your own denial. THAT'S hell.
And that's what I always have to remember when hearing people say it's "all just a dream." Some things are inherently evil. All the hacks are proof. You can't call THAT a "game" and say "in the end it won't matter!!" without sounding like a heartless airheaded sadist. But... part of me wishes it was "just a game," that in the end it will all turn out to have been just some illusion and I'm untouched, I'm okay, I'm not damned forever by what I've been through. There needs to be middle ground somewhere, somehow. It needs to be recognized as horrific, and yet, still recognized as ultimately doomed to oblivion. Light still wins. God I don't understand, but now's not the time to debate or discuss. That's a journey I'm still taking, probably until the day I die.

Anyway. There was one other thing Laurie said about that topic that stood out... the Undergrounders are entrenched in this "game," this good-and-evil battleground. Knife is this weird mix of religious moral rules and psychological manipulation, Mulberry is all about status and power and appearances, Sugar is seething with anger and rage and the need to get revenge, and Razor is little more than a living amalgamation of frenzy and pain. ALL of them are rooted to fear and anger in some way, ALL of them tied to pain and suffering and retribution. But... the world outside keeps telling us that none of that is "real." So, do we agree? Or do we stand against the popular opinion for the sake of our own heart, however scarred it may be?
I actually got kind of scared when Laurie said that. If those things are all just a dream, does that mean the Undergrounders all have to die? Or can they change, like Julie?
Laurie said that change was their choice, and theirs alone. We all could change. But she said, grimly, that right now... some of them would rather die than change.

I remember wondering about the illusion thing again, there.
We've been talking about how some religions say that bad things are illusions, sure... but on the other side of the coin, they claim that so are good things. And THAT is terrifying. None of this is "real," in that sense, in their opinion. Everything we experience here is just an illusion, they say, no exceptions. It's a terrifyingly nihilistic mindset, but it's everywhere out there, and honestly I bought right into it in 2012, God knows why. But it got some very ugly roots in very deep, and I realized that even now it was feeding into my "don't care" feelings about relationships, ironically perhaps. I no longer saw any point in pursuing them, if they were false.
Laurie was asking me about that. I can't remember what I said. But I do remember what she said.
The first thing she did was sarcastically apologize, if what she was about to say was "selfish" or otherwise incomprehensible to me. Then she said that yes, she cared a heck of a lot about me, that she'd die for me if she had to, without hesitation. But then she added that she did want me to care about her in return, if only a little.
I asked why. The thought of her feeling that was bizarre. She knew this, laughed once, and explained that it really wasn't all that baffling. When you care that much about someone, she said, it's nice to have that reciprocated. When you love someone that much, in ANY respect, knowing that they're able and willing to reflect even a tiny glimmer of that back to you means the world.
Then she said I was her best friend.
I was completely stunned for a second. She-- really?? I stopped her mid-sentence to make sure I had just heard that. She said yeah, why was that such a surprise?
I said it was because she's been around for almost 6 solid years and she has NEVER said that, not ONCE.
And it broke my heart, really.
For ages, I've always wanted to be someone's best friend, without knowing why. I considered it my most selfish, hedonistic, deplorable want. Why the heck would I want someone to consider me that? I didn't like relationships that close, I couldn't stand the attention. And yet part of me did want that same complete care and attention and love I was theoretically willing to give to be reciprocated, for my tendency for total devotion to actually be mirrored back for once.
Laurie didn't even ask for that much. She'd give her life for me and all she wanted was for me to think "hey, she's not that bad of a person after all." But she considered me her best friend even if I was the one being an absolute bastard towards her.
And yet I was the one who expected complete dedication if a relationship was unavoidable, and was too spineless to admit both that horrible hidden desire, and my baffling need to give it.
But she gave it anyway, without a word. And I never even considered that she might consider me a friend.
What does that say about how I view relationships, huh?
I was in tears. I remember not being able to form a sentence for a few minutes because if I opened my mouth I'd have started sobbing. Laurie asked if it made more sense for her to be a "foil" than a friend, because the former was a more tumultuous relationship, and I was used to that. I had to admit it probably was. Friendship was too close, too personal, too... safe. It didn't hurt. It didn't feel genuine, using the word "friendship," it felt fake and shallow... but a "best friend?" Now that was significant. I could hardly believe she viewed me in that category. But the truth was out, and my heart was in pieces.

I don't remember much between then, and the voice from wherever talking to us.
I was trying to talk to Laurie a little more before falling asleep (day 2 of the migraine), except this time I think we were tackling the tough subjects again. See, yesterday was a bit of a mess; I wasn't "fronting," but I don't know if anyone else was, at least not consciously. All I know is that "I" ended up with an internet history of some old-school Christian articles on sexuality, all dealing with what Christina has been telling me, and... it was terrifying.
It was exactly what I had been force-fed as a child, over and over and over, but... I had been so naive and ignorant that I didn't realize what they were actually asking of me. Now, with what I've learned and experienced, looking back on those same teachings was deeply disturbing.
Part of me still subscribed to them 100%, don't get me wrong, even with the moral questionability of those ultimatums and the utter clashing with the beliefs I am now being bombarded with. And that part was louder than the parts that said it wasn't right. I was too used to growing up under a black-and-white moral code to segue easily into a deadly gray one, one that claimed that this life is an illusion, that good and bad are just our judgments of neutral things, that hell doesn't exist except in our minds... no, the childhood part of me insisted that we got one chance, and we had to live it according to strict rules, else we'd burn for our sins.
No middle ground. No safety on either end.
And the things it was justifying through that mindset were the reason why my life is a mess right now in the first place.
I told Laurie this. I told her that what I knew was being muffled and drowned underneath the clarion scream of those old fire-and-brimstone teachings. She gave me a stern look and told me to ignore them, and speak from my heart, what I knew was true outside of hollow logic and social programming and frightened reasoning. What did I feel was right, solidly so, when it really got down to it? "Tell me," she demanded, not letting me run or hide from it. So I closed my eyes, and listened.
That's when the voice showed up.
It was shocking at first. "Whoa, dude, something is TALKING to me?" I told her and asked if I could either dictate it, or channel it out into visuals. Knowing the problems I had with speech, especially in that format, Laurie told me to visualize it if at all possible. So I focused for another moment, and instead of speaking, began forming huge glowing letters in the air as it spoke, transcribing everything it told me in real-time.
Laurie and I then sat back and watched as it explained everything we had asked about, in words and pictures, now a life of its own.

...I might not be able to write this in a structured format. It would be too draining.
I'm just going to go all stream-of-consciousness on you again, so please forgive the disjointedness; it makes more sense to me that way.
Trigger warning, by the way. You know the drill.

-started with childhood abuse. since the only sharp, scarring, bruising pain I ever experienced was CORRECTIVE, my brain quickly linked the two together. whenever I was beaten, it wasn't to harm me, it was to HELP me. "you've been a bad boy, this is your punishment for it." I would be beaten, and then the sin would be forgiven. easy as that! so to me, pain was benevolent. it was loving. when someone hurt me, it was because they cared about my spiritual well-being. when I grew older and the beatings stopped I got scared, why was no one punishing me anymore? was I so bad that they wouldn’t heal me anymore, that I was beyond being saved? so the self-abuse started full swing.
-this equivalency of pain and love was what Laurie was REALLY born from. when she heard this she was in shock, but her eyes were full of tears. she had this heartbreaking look and then it hit me, that was why I felt a relationship would ruin her. I knew she had realized that too. but that's next.
-btw knife was born from the SAME ABUSE. it's a very fine line, that's why they're so similar. both are tied to the morally retributive part but they have completely different motivations:
laurie = I'm hurting you because I love you and the pain will get rid of your sins
knife = I'm hurting you because you are evil and the pain will get rid of your sins
but for both of them the pain is benevolent although it is expressed differently.
-a key point that we'd been ignorant of before yesterday was the fact that, as a catholic, I was raised to believe a very strange dichotomy about sexuality. on one hand, anything even vaguely sexual outside of marriage was considered the ultimate sin-- a crime against god, an awful devilish act. however, being born female, my entire childhood was swamped by people trying to raise me to "get married and have kids." my very existence was sexualized from childhood, and that was somehow okay in comparison??? marriage was seen as this ultra-holy act, this reflection of christ's union with his church, and having sex when you were married was mandatory. as a woman you were obligated to marry a man, have kids, and raise a good christian family, to fulfill "god's plan for you." the problem? I was TERRIFIED OF THAT.
-first, I knew I was asexual (or at least very different from other kids in that respect) from a very young age. I felt no attraction towards anyone, had no interest in relationships, and found both concepts to be "disgusting." so when people suddenly started trying to groom me into this sexual object, this "bride" meant to have sex as GOD'S WILL one day, I freaked out. I didn't want to marry a man, and I didn't want kids, heck I didn't even like being called a girl, but then I hit a big problem in my eyes. I didn't want to have sex… because not only did I think it was utterly repulsive, I was taught-- and firmly believed-- that it was the ultimate sin. god forbid you even show your stomach in public or you're corrupting people. now of course this was easy for me, being asexual, but no one knew that but me. NOW I was suddenly supposed to believe that upon "getting married," I would be SUPPOSED to have sex, because THEN it would be a good thing? what the heck! I couldn’t comprehend it… and that scared me more than anything.
-if god said I had to be a "good christian spouse" and not doing that was a sin, then… my not wanting to have sex was a sin, because it would make me a bad married partner, and I HAD to get married even if I DIDN'T WANT TO. that was exactly what I thought. but I didn't like the fact that suddenly, now that i was no longer a "child," everyone was treating sex as something totally different than they did when I was a kid. suddenly I was even more of a freak than I was before, when I thought my classmates were stupid for having crushes. now I was a sinful freak because I didn't want to have kids with a god-fearing man and therefore imitate the union of christ and the church, because that was "natural."
-that's when julie showed up. and things got even more twisted. I remember the very first time she pushed me to try something sexual. after two seconds I stopped, hyperventilating, and ran-- trying to escape her, trying to find a safe place. it wasn't just because she was trying to touch me, it was because the sensation of it was AWFUL. suddenly my fears were lethal. THAT was what sex was like?? that horrible, horrible sensation? why the hell would anyone WANT that?? and now people are telling me that I HAVE to have that one day, or else I'll be going against god's will??? I was terrified.
- I ignored the fact that I didn't identify as female, and that I was definitely not straight as far as "romantic" leanings went. neither of these things even crossed my mind as "problematic" until later, because I didn't associate them with sexuality.
- by the way when my innocence was shattered in 7th grade biology, and i got "the talk" which left me shaking and horrified, wanting to tear the words out of my brain, JULIE HAD ALREADY STARTED. i just refused to give it any recognition, as i was ashamed that i had been tainted.
-anyway. with julie, it got worse. when I tried to express that i wasn't interested in marriage, relationships, sex, OR having a family, I was told that I was a freak, LITERALLY a "sin against god." after having feared that for years, hearing it flat-out was the final nail in the coffin. I was broken and wrong, a devil. I had to fix myself, somehow, even if the thought made me sick and scared, because the alternative was damnation. and as soon as that mental white flag was raised… hell started.
-I don't remember 99% of the times I was sexually assaulted by julie. I don't even have the heart to call them rape anymore, because I feel I asked for it, and that I deserved it: the first because I never fought back in anything other than screams and desperate prayers to god to "make it stop," and the second because I felt that if I DIDN'T like what she was doing, I DESERVED to suffer for being a sexual deviant against my god-given biology.
-that brings us back to the pain point. sexual abuse was the single most traumatic thing I have ever experienced because I COULD NOT COMPREHEND WHAT WAS HAPPENING. I had no capacity to. I went into that with the mindset that "I was flawed, I needed to be fixed," and prior to that, EVERY act of correction had been physically violent. it had been sharp pain, the kind that leaves bruises and cuts and scabs. THAT was what I would have been comfortable with. that would have meant I was being fixed. but sex wasn't like that. the human body is BUILT to accommodate sex. I DIDN'T KNOW THAT. so when I was being assaulted, not only was there awful pain, but there was the horrible sexual feeling of physical contact that I didn't want… and THEN there was the biological hell. the body not being able to differentiate between consent and rape. I had no freaking clue what was happening and it scared the life out of me because julie would ALWAYS tell me to hold still, "be good," don't fight, you know you want it. that was the worst one. "you KNOW you want it." my asexuality was invalidated by everyone. julie only reminded me that I was either a transboy, or a lesbian-- both also "sins against god." either way, she said, you're not allowed to be asexual either, so you'd better learn to like f*cking girls!! and when I insisted I had changed my mind, I didn't want to be fixed, hell had to be better than enduring this, she'd giggle and say that she didn't care. that I deserved to suffer, then. that SHE was enjoying this and she didn't care at all what I thought. after all, liking sex is natural. if you don't like it, you're unnatural, and that means you're bad… my greatest fear. so I let her do it. over and over. and it broke me.
-TW: graphic sexual abuse notes here. I should write this down for future therapy reasons. there are only two moments of the entire decade of abuse that I remember. one, is the first time I "woke up" and found myself bleeding on the bathroom floor (the only room in the house that locked on the inside). I was scared out of my entire mind. what had she done to me??? I remember sobbing hysterically, trying to keep quiet, knowing that she had ruined me forever, I just didn't know how. the second thing I remember is her on top of me on the bathroom floor (AGAIN, I hate that room), one hand pinning my arms down, the other clamped over my mouth so I wouldn't scream. and I remember having this horrible feeling that there were other people there, standing around her, watching me and grinning evilly because she was doing the right thing in forcing a stupid little sinner like me to have sex, because I was wrong, and if I was suffering then good, let that be my punishment. and I remember screaming in my head for god to save me somehow, but he never did. she would have her way with me and then leave, and I would sit in the bathroom alone, either sobbing and shaking, or numb and empty. and that's all I remember.
- as the years went on it worked, as sick as it was. by 2007 I was so brainwashed that I leapt into a fake relationship with an imaginary internet boy-- and looking back I realize that I don't remember ANY of that, so god knows who was driving. but the point is, there was at least one part of me that fully believed julie. it believed that I wanted sex, and that I should have it, and that I should be this perfect bride-girl with no faults. except that didn't work. the scars were too deep. and as soon as they were triggered-- the first time I had EVER been forced to face them-- those darker parts got really loud, and you all know what happened when 2008 hit.
- I was this horrible sexually-paranoid mess from then on. college was an utter nightmare, and I've written about that before, far more eloquently than I can here. the bottom line was that when I hit that point in life, I had a dilemma. I was in so much pain from my past that I felt I had no right to feel-- after all, it was unnatural not to like sex, and other people have really suffered so stop bitching-- but all around me, the shouts to ignore that pain kept getting louder. and I supposed it was tempting, to give up, to stop the pain by not caring anymore. and somewhere along the line… I did. I gave up. and to me, 2011 was rock bottom in that respect.
- see, THIS was the problem: to me, pain was good, as long as it was JUST pain. sharp pain, to me, was compassionate, comforting, understandable. it meant I had done something bad, and was now being corrected. but sexuality, the ultimate sin, DIDN'T GO AWAY because it was painful, because along with it was that horrendous bodily reaction of "am I REALLY supposed to like this??" the terror of being in conflict with what my own body was doing when abused was too much… so my brain landed at the only conclusion it could. to me, pain was good, and the opposite of pain was evil.
- I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore
- if people tried to show they cared through sex, because "it's a good thing," immediately my brain translated that as "they HATE you, they are trying to RUIN you, that is EVIL and they KNOW IT." but if someone wanted to hurt me in a violent fashion, my brain immediately said, "I know you're scared but they are doing that for a reason; you did something bad, they are correcting you so you won't be bad anymore."
- also, post-abuse, I was unable to understand relationships of ANY SORT outside of a sexual context. I could not have family ties, friendships, admirations, or traditional relationships without immediately assuming that I was sexually obligated to that person. I couldn't even look at a stupid billboard picture of a woman without automatically thinking "oh god help me, she's looking at me, she wants me to have sex with her, I can't say no." and my life was full of fear. my brain STILL does this with EVERYTHING btw. it's hell.
- somewhere around 2010 I gave up trying to protect myself, in order to numb the terror and pain that I could no longer avoid. after all, if I just gave up and just did what they wanted, it wouldn't be traumatic anymore, right? (wrong as hell, but I ignored that too.) so not only did I spend far too many hours trying to desensitize myself, watching and reading things that were TRAUMATIC for me, things that my brain would scream at and leave me shaking and dissociated afterwards, simply because "you've gotta look at naked women in college anyway, you whore! learn to like it!" but I couldn't. so I burned myself numb.
- 2011 was when I REALLY gave in and started trying to have sex. all of my attempts were purged from my memory, I do not remember a single one. all I know is that immediately after attempt one, I attempted suicide and Laurie had to spend FIFTEEN HOURS talking me out of it. it worked… temporarily. I don't know what else I did that year. but that one morning in june was it, I was lost. nothing made sense anymore, now that I had stopped trying to be good in exchange for simply trying not to hurt anymore.
- by 2012 I was a slut. all of my relationships were now obscenely sexual and I hated myself for it. I thought I hated THEM for it because they didn't even understand, they didn't have the capacity to, they didn't know what sexual abuse was like and god willing they never would. but i didn't actually hate them. i hated myself for not being able to like it for them. it destroyed my moral compass for good, because a few of THEM actually liked it, and didn't see it as bad at all, while I was just playing along and wanting to die and wanting THEM to die for doing that to me again, projecting my hate outwards, wanting the threat gone. but I never spoke up. I was supposed to like it, ESPECIALLY now that it was with them. but I didn't. I dissociated so freaking often that I have trouble remembering that 2012 happened at all.
- so that's my problem. tl;dr, relationships are only benevolent to me if they have a violent side. that, to me, solidifies the knowledge that they care. if there is NO direct pain, then I automatically assume the opposite: that they do not care about me, and are using me for their own ends.
- any relationship is like this. it is why I seek pain and abuse. if people NEVER tie pain to compassion, I feel scared. JUST yelling will scare me. JUST hurting me because you're mad scares me. my brain can't comprehend it. but justifying that by saying you're doing it for my benefit, that I can understand. what I can't understand is having sex with someone because "you care about them." my brain has no capacity to understand that

I have no idea what that voice said to me anymore I'm really sorry my brain hurts.

it was telling me that this b/w thinking of mine was not good, it didn’t define them, they werent trying to hurt me they were just confused because jeepers cats they don’t even have the same biology, most of them CAN'T understand sex the way humans do, but my body and mind were translating it that way and it was unbearably traumatic and I hated myself so much that i began to hate them and that breaks my heart because how in the world do I heal from this.
laurie was sobbing, said she was sorry, she didn't know that I saw things that starkly, she apologized for ever giving in to my empty-minded persuasions because she didn't know what the heck I was asking. I said she was fine, the ONLY one who was fine because she never DID anything, yeah I've kissed her but that's IT really. she never did anything that my old catholic upbringing would have labeled a one-way ticket to hell. but I did. and they did, and I don't remember why or when or how, and I'm glad that I don't, but I can't be around them anymore. I can't.

but you know whats funny?? I don't even hate julie. yes i say her name when i talk about the past but its just a name.
i look at her and i dont even associate her with the abuse isnt that weird? like i don't even remember her being responsible although i know she was
but she hasn't touched me since 2011, not that i remember at least and she says she was sorry and im not bothered by it at all
but other people who care about me and who have touched me since i cant stand and i almost hate, but they never abused me like she did, i dont understand
maybe it's because they don't think they did anything "wrong" so they're not "sorry"
and i can't understand why i keep forcing them into these situations

sugar wants eros to die, isn't that hilariously ironic, she picked that name because all my life "sugar" has been synonymous with sex, gluttony has been synonymous with lust, they both involve consuming and destroying something. and everything sweet would always be followed by rape. you enjoy something, you eat something that's supposed to be good, what happens? a girl in pigtails f*cks you up. enjoyment is tied to sex and sex is abuse. that is why chocolate was lethal. it was the worst. so this new alter, she chose the name sugar, and made herself pink, specifically to get down there and attack these sexual predators. she hates them. so now "sugar" means whoever tries to hack us will get a boot to the broken face, courtesy of the thistle-haired fury over here. sugar is bitter now you devils
and eros scares me, he's the opposite of me, he's incapable of seeing sex as BAD. he lives in this weird place that doesn't make sense, it's all white furniture and red lights and everything is red red red. and he lounges around and he's this ridiculously sensual thing, everything turns him on, it's ridiculous. but he's NEVER abusive??? which makes no sense??? how can you be that sexual but NOT use it to hurt people?? half the time he says he doesn’t even care whether or not he has sex with anyone, that's not the point. THEN WHY DO YOU DO IT why do you do it

I don't hate him but sugar does and she wants him dead because she hates all sexual things.
but I can tell that he's not evil even if that makes no sense, he's a good guy, he's really interesting but that's SCARY because all the things he likes and does AREN'T SEXUAL?? but then HE IS??????? why doesn’t that make sense????
I don’t know if confuses me even more then EVERYTHING is sexual everything is a threat why did he have to do that
and sugar is mad mad mad that's why she wants him to die, she says he makes everything dangerous for us. and he does. but he's not evil why in the world is he doing this

I have to go

can't do this anymore sorry

I hope the point was made? I really don't remember last night anymore it made sense but I think im too broken to be fixed yet
I mean it makes sense but it doesn’t? I can see why that would be a problem because "pain isn't supposed to be good" but I HATE the words "supposed" and "should" go away
pain IS good for me, that's my reality, if it isn't yours then FINE
I spend too long trying to make my reality identical to everyone elses and LOOK WHAT THAT DID TO ME

now I'm a slut, I'm ruined, I'm evil and I will never be clean

except life is an illusion and none of that ever actually happened???

so that's good
except it's not
because the spiritual people keep saying sex is good
ew
no its not
go away

its bad and it hurts and its scary and terriible
not good
stop saying its good
stop it
STOP


Really, I need to close this up, things are getting seriously disjointed in here.
I have no idea who's typing now, or what they're up in arms about, but it looks like that topic isn't one we should be wrestling with right now? So let's leave it be.
In any case I really need to stop paying attention to that old stuff. Cosmic dream, y'know. None of it actually happened. Although, as you can see, some people are having a hard time accepting that. It's sad, really. They don't have to hurt like that, if they just let go.


Oh, also. I'm going to stop thinking this is DID/MPD or schizoaffective stuff or anything. NO MORE LABELS.
Honestly I do not care what this is medically considered. Heck, most of my spiritual beliefs would label me schizotypal if I were assessed according to them! So I really have decided to stop caring about what the mental health community thinks about my inner life. It just is. Let us deal with this the best we can, as we are, without trying to play along with some imposed scheme according to a diagnosis. It's tiring, and it just confuses everyone.

Speaking of confusion, I think this mess of an entry is bad enough already so let's call it quits for the night.

 

 

prismaticbleed: (Default)

 



The little crying blue boy, the cool orange guy, and Christina.

The first two actually helped me make their avatars today. (Knife and Mulberry were watching too.)
The blue boy specifically wanted a blanket, so he got one.
Orange dude took forever to decide on his outfit. He might change his mind again later. He's also secretly not human, that's why he wears those weird glasses.
We're trying to find both their names. They've said they'll "know when they find the right one." (EDIT 072213= the blue boy is named David.)

This weird, punky pink voice showed up earlier too. Never saw her before. She was really angry, insisting she was pink because she was "sneaking in and sabotaging" the color. She "hated all the pink people" and the sexuality tied to that color, and wanted to kill anyone who had anything to do with it. She began getting really loud and violent, screaming a lot, the child voices were really scared. Knife warned her a few times, she didn't listen. Razor kept waiting for permission to retaliate. When the pinkish voice continued to ignore Knife's admonishments, he said she was disturbing the peace too much and was too dangerous to keep around. So Razor killed and ate her. It was freaky.

Christina got really different and really disturbing since we last saw her around.
Now she proclaims she's an "angel of the Lord," helping Jessica to "overcome the rest of us," as we "don't really exist" and are only preventing her from living her life. She insists that SHE'S real though because she's allegedly an "angel" all of a sudden. The worst part though is that she has the exact same unyielding, all-condemning, self-righteous, super-innocent moral code that the body had when it was like 10 years old... and I still don't know whether or not she's the one who's right.

Laurie is halfway between pissed-off and existentially-desperate right now, and it hurts to see her like that. I don't blame her though. This is a scary situation.

I need sleep.
The grandmother is mad that we're up late seeking online help (weekends = suicide crisis hotlines), insisting that we "aren't trying" although we've been doing so 24/7 for the past several years.
But it's no use arguing. The downstairs and underground people are flipping out because she's pushing triggers left and right, horrible ones, and they can't deal. Someone started screaming. Someone else started biting the body. Someone else started sobbing and pulling at their hair. I don't know how to protect them from this anymore.
i am so scared so scared so scared so scared god help us i dont wanna go in there.
Ssh, it'll be okay. Please. I'll protect you, somehow. Somehow.

I've gotta run.

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

Okay, a heads-up for everyone here: I will be posting short updates from here on out concerning headspace, for the sake of recording small, important incidents. Too much is happening now for me to think "I'll just wait and write a recap tomorrow," because time moves so quickly for us, that 24 hours for us equal 72 for a normal person. Dead serious. A LOT happens in a very short time here.

So, right now, I have Last.fm on (jeepers I miss music so much) and I'm reviewing the post-Scratch entries on here, trying to get a grip on who the heck Jessica was before Christina tried to kill us all. So far everything matches up with the truth, but while reviewing, the one fact I couldn't wrap my head around was why RAZOR kept working with her.
See, the Lower System does not like Jessica, at all, because she wants them all dead and they're dedicated to preserving and promoting their existences. So why would Razor work with Jess, I wondered, if she values her existence just as much as her brethren?
So I asked her. "Why were you working with Jess for so long?"
She didn't even look up from her blades, toying with them on the ground of one of the catacombs.
"Because she gave me a reason to cut you," she said. "And that's all I wanted to do."

Honestly, the more I learn about Razor, the more stunned I am.
She is practically a child. It's bizarre. She was born from retributive self-hatred, true: essentially the same stuff Knife was born from. But she was born from an entirely different expression of it. Whereas Knife is the direct, penitent-yet-merciless action of digging the graves, coldly demanding that we "pay for our sins," Razor is the emotional madness that resulted from feeling that we were beyond salvation, the zealously maniacal loss of self-concern that caused a hand, toying with a razor blade for the first time, to slip. The cut that created Razor was not directly intended. It was an unconscious want, expressed accidentally, and as soon as the blood began running down our leg... something snapped, and there she was.
To be honest with you, that's one of the clearest archival memories we have. I was not driving then, that is clear-- the data is explicitly from someone else's perspective. But the moment of Razor's manifestation was huge, in memory.
Remember, prior to that split second, the body had NOT been cut before. Nor had we ever seen blood like that, not so bright red and alive, escaping so quickly that the mind wondered, for an incredulously terrified second, if we had cut a vein, and we would bleed to death there in the bathtub. That moment was traumatic in and of itself, and when the mind could not run, it did what it had always done, all those times Julie had attacked us, all those times the family had harmed us, any time we could not escape... it broke.
And that feeling of breakage was immortalized.
There was a snap. There was an unmistakable mental SNAP, as something slipped off-balance, and shifted irreparably. It was as if the consciousness in the body had lost its inner footing and cracked its head open on the cold linoleum, spilling blinding red onto the unfeeling whiteness all around us.
That snap, and the immediate sliding of consciousness into two distinct, blood-slick parts, gives me chills to this day. I thank God I wasn't fronting when that happened, because just looking back on the stored memory is disturbing enough.
...And that's all the data we have.
Beneath that monolith, there are only a few pencil scribbles, the marks of a madman, describing a tiny red-haired figure dancing upon the faucet, laughing maniacally at the blood and blades, not realizing what it meant, not realizing what was happening. It only laughed, hateful and jubilant and triumphant and careless, watching the redness stain the water, enthralled at the sudden rift in the skin that had given life to it.
Then the scribbles end, mid-sentence.
There is a photograph of a violet axe slamming into a red skull, and a tiny frenzied consciousness dissolving like blood into bathwater.
And that is all.

She's not mentioned again until February 2011.
I'm sure you all remember that.

But that's my point. Razor was never... she was never actively malicious. I think that's what made her the most terrifying of all the undergrounders, back when we still considered her our mortal enemy, only a few days ago.
Jezebel told us we were all her playthings, slaves of our egos, and therefore her puppets. She worked from the shadows, possessing us, manipulating us, making us believe we were inherently corrupted, lost, irredeemable.
Jessica told us that she hated us, that we had "ruined her life," that being the original consciousness she had every right to murder us, without even considering us real beings. She constantly undermines our actions, denying our lives, actively working to kill us all.
Christina claimed to be a model of virtue, a perfect and pure girl, doing everything she was supposed to do by order of God-- and that we were nothing but figments of a corrupted, unreal "ego." Therefore, she said, we didn't really exist at all, and she would be glad to see us all die.
Knife told us that we were sinners that must bleed, that I was little more than an infant, blind to my own impurity; he declared that the scars he gave me were holy retribution, and he would show no mercy, until I atoned for the pain I had allegedly inflicted upon countless innocent souls.
But Razor didn't care about any of that. She just wanted to cut things.
Yes, she said she hated us. But she hated us for not letting her do that. She hated us for not letting her do the one thing she was literally created to do. At the end of the day, she would side with anyone who gave her permission to pick up a knife and slice away.
The one time she fronted, and calmly hacked a truckload of new scars into the body, leaving a ring of blood around our neck... I remember being stunned that she hadn't left her trademark mania in her wake. There was only calm.
And yes, although I still shudder every time I look at the "DIE" page she wrote in our journal, I am forced to rethink my opinion of it now, when I look at what she wrote a few pages later, on a page I didn't scan in, and never mentioned.
On June 25th, my mother was yelling at us, and I retreated to our room due to the mounting noise in our head.
"Okay so it's obvious people are waiting to scream on paper right now; I can barely write. Have at it, guys."
Immediately, the overload girl picked up the pencil.
"SHE'S AN INSENSITIVE PRICK!!!"
Then the cool orange guy slided in.
"razor wants to talk can you write"
His nonchalant statement was surprising even then, but nowhere near as surprising as the sudden words scrawled after his.
"WHERES MY F*KING PEN"
It was oddly calligraphic, almost. She didn't write as much as slash at the paper, every line another attempt to slice open the white pages she was silently shouting upon.
"WHERE IS IT"
Her voice was loud even in text. I was getting a headache. I'm dimly aware of feeling like my skull was about to explode from the pressure of all those gathering between my eyes.
I tried to write another sentence. I couldn't. The pencil sputtered into shapeless letters, as red lines tore onto the page once more.
"YOUR MOTHER IS A B*TCH
DO YOU WANT ME TO K*LL HER"

The AP kicked in full throttle and we were all tossed into a sort of comatose state, then.
But I'm still shocked, at that response from Razor. "Your mother is a b*tch..." and then an offer to destroy her, to "get rid" of that stressor, to eliminate that thing that is disturbing the systems. After all, that's what you do to bad things, right? According to Razor, at least, it is. She will attack and maul and kill anything that she deems a source of hatred and rage and pain, because she likes tearing those things to pieces, that's what she was born to do. The problem is, previously we thought she just did that to anyone and anything. We didn't realize she was being motivated by a twisted moral code, one written in the instant she was born, declaring that anything that reminded her of the old Jewel deserved to die.
She doesn't understand the suffering of her victims, she doesn't understand that people aren't toys, she doesn't understand death.
In her eyes, when she cuts them to shreds, she's only doing what she's supposed to do, regardless of who she does it for, or how.

I wouldn't say I love her. That feels wrong, even in a platonic sense.
But there's this strange, wrenching affection for her in me nevertheless. Maybe it's my stockholm syndrome acting up again. All I know is that part of me genuinely pities her, despite how much she's already made me bleed, and how much more blood she would unquestionably drain from me the instant she was given the opportunity.
She's just a cruel, innocent child.

There's one bit about her that still confuses and disturbs me, though.
When she was resurrected, she was resurrected through the TAR. She was being held within the Razor Spire, and in almost every instance between that date and about a month ago, she was tied to the Tar. She would follow Jess/Jezebel (who were tied for ages, unsurprisingly) immediately after they would hack us, "punishing" us for what THEY did, or simply cutting us because THEY told her to. A few times she would even spawn FROM the Tar, not existing outside of it.
Then in mid-June-- thanks to Infinitii-- the Underground solidified into something unconnected to the Tar Room, and suddenly, Razor wasn't part of the Tar anymore.
"They gave me a reason to cut you," she said. So she never questioned her half-existence under their control. She was literally their puppet, their messenger, their little shadowy assassin. Hell, I even called her "the Razor splinter" in reference to the Tar for a while. And, essentially, she WAS. I wonder if she even had the power to resurrect on her own... probably not, there were no anchors of that sort left. So it explains why she was forcibly brought back by the Tar, and literally fused with it for so long, until she suddenly switched anchors when Infi split the Underground.
Anyway, Knife has noticed this dichotomy in her too, on his own, which is actually what tipped me off. He keeps giving her odd looks, claiming that she is "splintering," or that there are two of her. Razor just replies that "there's only one of her," seemingly unaware of the legitimate, shocking differences between her Tar-connected self, and who she is now, working with the Lowers, unattached to Jess. But she's right, too.
It's strange. She would always come out after Jess hacks-- Jess would do things to cause the body extreme pain, and THEN Razor would appear, and cut us up... but that action was ironically working for AND against the Tar? Yes, it was scarring us and causing us a great deal of pain, but it was also retributive, and motivation for us to continue fighting it... I wonder if the Tar wants that, to keep itself alive. Hm.
It was using the Overload Girl for a while, too, I think. That's why we kept confusing her with Jess/Jezebel. She was so angry all the time, because of how much pain she was in... but we didn't know, because her motivations were identical with Razor's. I need to destroy what threatens my existence.
We didn't understand that, to them, that was the only option they felt they had.

I have so many questions. So many.

...So much of our old information is wrong.
Even if it was correct before, things are changing so quickly now... a great deal of the info in the archives is false, or incomplete, or skewed. We simply did not have enough information to know the truth; that, or the information we did have was viewed through a blurry or stained lens.
With the Lower system now making itself known, so many things are changing. It's a shock, really. All of us upstairs are being forced to completely re-evaluate what we thought we knew about not only headspace, but also our system, our roles within it, and by extension, our very existences.
There is so much we don't know about each other-- about our thoughts, our emotions, our motivations, our lives. And all that miscommunication, all those misunderstandings, are what is causing us the most pain here. Knife even SAID that he was WRONG for having considered me the "sole reason for all the pain in the system," BECAUSE HE DIDN'T KNOW I WASN'T PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SPLINTERS. He now admits that it would be wrong to blame me for breaking under trauma, even if "my" splinters are the ones he feels obligated to punish with blood.
But you see what I mean. There's so much we don't know.
I'm not sure where to go from here. Maybe looking back will help. Maybe it won't. But I keep getting nudged to check, even if it's just by the curiosity of those Downstairs or Underground... all I can do is try, right now.


...Oh. Speaking of trying, I forgot to mention this.
Waldorf left Central today.

She's been questioning her role here for a very long time. When we have censuses, she's often accidentally left out. She still can't speak when she fronts. She hasn't been able to find a solid role. And lately, she's been talking about how she doesn't feel like she "fits in" with us, due to her drastically different appearance... and because of how she was originally born. And today, she told us her biggest doubt of all.
She doesn't think she's a headvoice.
To be brutally honest, I've been wondering about that too. Maybe I said it before. But we all wondered the same thing with Spine, remember. She didn't look or feel like us either, her role was different, she couldn't stay stable in a color slot, she couldn't front like the rest of us. Wally had all the same problems, in one way or another. And when Spine left, shortly after she was moved to an "outspacer" slot, Wally apparently began questioning whether or not she should do the same.
Above all, though, there was one point that motivated her more than anything: her old role. Back when she was born in 2003, she wasn't born from trauma, or with a purpose to protect headspace-- that was just coming into existence back then! No, Waldorf was born to be a muse, a shining entity reflecting back bits and pieces of all the outside things that made us smile and dream. She was a mirror of all the things that helped headspace come into being in the first place.
I can't forget my original descriptions of her... eyes like a Mewtwo, hair like Kerrigan, wearing Ryou's Millennium Ring (seriously). She was something "perfectly terrible, yet beautiful..." I claimed that if I ever met her, I wouldn't be able to decide between "hugging her or running away screaming."
And the first night I met her, when I was just beginning to create a room for myself in headspace... she stood (well, floated) by my bed, all glowing blue and strange, but smiling. And I was scared, despite my wonder. Who was she, really? What was she doing there? Yeah, I claimed she was my muse, but that was all I knew about her. She held countless bits and pieces of inspiration, but if you took all that away, who was she?
She didn't answer me directly. I doubt she needed to-- that's not her style anyway. Instead, she showed me what she truly was, what her existence meant... and she took me to the most blessed dream location I have ever visited. The floating crystal forest.
She took me, and Maitru, and Ryou, and herself in a less formidable form, to that place... and I will never, ever forget that experience. To this day, I associate that place with her.
And then she disappeared.
For years I couldn't find her. I wondered about her, true, but I never saw her. Then, as suddenly as she vanished, she reappeared in November 2012, and enthusiastically joined Central as our Blue headvoice. We all loved her; she was fun and friendly and never complained, but she got sick so often, in a way that previously only Spine did. And neither of them ever got over it. Wally kept losing her voice, kept fading in and out of the upstairs...
Long story short, she and I couldn't help but wonder: did she ever truly belong up here? Or could her role, her TRUE role, that of an utter inspiration core, only function OUTSIDE of the stricter rule system Central had inflicted upon her?
She decided she wanted to try and see. So she left.

Everyone was crying as she walked out. And it shocked me to see it, too-- I was outside, in the garden, and suddenly this was happening upstairs, and I had no clue what was going on. When it hit me I could only stand and observe, as a bystander.
All the Central members hugged her goodbye as she stood at the stairway out. Laurie was obviously holding back some fierce emotions; she was the first person I saw, which tipped me off that something big was happening. Leon seemed oddly pained to see his spectrum neighbor go; he first only shook her hand, but she pulled him into a kind hug, which he sincerely returned. Nathaniel accepted her decision, and warmly but sadly wished her farewell. Julie appeared to be hiding a great deal of hurt herself, as she struggles with her own issues of belonging, and Waldorf seemed to know this. She hugged her too, in a rare moment of friendship between them.
Lynne gave her an understanding look, and a sympathetic embrace. Of all of us, she was perhaps the most sorrowful, and yet the least sad, to see her go. Spine is her moirail, you know. The two of them are incredibly close... but Spine isn't around anymore. She left too, for the same reasons Wally has left now. So Lynne understood, even if it hurt.
Josephina was sobbing. He's also the only one that didn't hug her-- after one agonized look, he suddenly kissed her, perhaps for the first time. It broke my heart to see that.
Then Waldorf waved farewell to everyone, and took her first steps out of Central, down the white steps in the garden room, on her way down to the city below.
I know she met up with Spine down there. That's good. I don't know what they're doing, but it feels positive, like they're both feeling better and more inspired already. I hope they find exactly what they're looking for.


This is all making me wonder about outspacers.
I was thinking about Ryman yesterday, and his native world, where Markus is also from. I remembered how they had slowly found our own lives outside of their native worlds a decade ago, along with the original Jewel (my conscious predecessor), having wild and fun adventures in realms that they all dreamed up together.
But they haven't been around in a long time. Did they just go back? Or is there a deeper reason?
Looking at Chaos 0, I can't help but consider the latter. CZ is the only one of our original five that hasn't moved out of total anchorage with his native world, and lately that has been putting severe strain on our relationship. I kept trying to force Ryman and Markus back into theirs, too. Is that why they didn't stick around? Is that why ALL the other Outspacers-- from all years past, from all sorts of worlds-- "faded out" of connection to headspace sooner or later, unable to anchor? Is THAT the "resonance" we saw in Dirk Strider-- was it simply his ability to DREAM of a different self, a different life, tied to his native being but free to grow and evolve beyond what he knew in his waking life? It would make perfect sense, actually... but I'm thinking now, is there another hidden prerequisite for outspacers, one that Spine and Waldorf have just now made me consider?
What if headspace is just a linking station for them? What if they're MEANT to move on beyond it? After all, we all know that we can't disconnect ourselves from the League Worlds, even if we CAN'T enter them as we are... is THAT the problem here? Is THAT why the old Jewels can't connect to those worlds while they're up here, acting as voices?
If so, that might explain why CZ is struggling now. He has several other-lives in League Worlds. He's even a god in the one Genesis hails from. But he hasn't embraced any of those here, even when every other lingering Outspacer has... and I think I'm responsible.
I try to shove him into his native canon role more strongly than I do to Ryman and Markus, and I think all three of them are suffering for it. I am essentially forbidding them from dreaming. Somewhere along the line I became convinced that "they HAD to match only ONE possible life path," the one that their original lives spelled out for them... but when I discovered the Internet, I began shackling them to THOSE paths too. Essentially I was overriding their own choices for as long as they were in headspace. I don't know how I never realized it before.
We were so wild and free in the old days BECAUSE we didn't give a damn about rules or restrictions! We weren't SUPPOSED to!! We were DREAMERS by our very nature, by our very ESSENCE, and we reveled in it. We walked in and out of so many dreamverses-- Yugioh, Sonic, Pokemon, Digimon, Sailor Moon, TMM-- everything and anything that we thought was cool and wanted to dream ourselves into, to try living, even for only a little while. And we had FUN.
But that's also what *incidents* were born from, those dramatic and bloody validations of love we all endured. That's where we got our Soul Wings, our colors, our symbols, our cores. And that's what WALDORF was tied to, too! She LOVED those other worlds, and the fact that EVERYONE was able to reach into them, to take pieces of them into their own souls... she was the manifestation of that, for God's sake. That's what her role meant. That's what a Muse IS.
...
And then, one day, I somehow decided that we couldn't do that anymore.
I "grew up." I stopped dreaming. I felt I had to "play by the rules."
They didn't start drifting away because they didn't want to be around, you idiot, they started drifting away because YOU WOULDN'T LET THEM STAY.
God, this really IS my fault. I am so sorry.
I keep trying to shove them into boxes. Didn't Laurie warn me about that, countless times? I'm not supposed to label things, or restrict things, or forbid things from growing or dreaming or living. And yet that's exactly what I'm doing.
Knife was right. No wonder he hated me. I really am the reason why we're such a mess.
If I didn't think like this, if I didn't compartmentalize and break off everything I didn't feel "allowed" to do or think or feel, there wouldn't be 50 entire people trying to exist in one body right now.

I've heard rumors, here and there, that the Tar isn't our biggest enemy, at least not alone.
In light of Infinitii's existence, people are wondering why no one talks about White energy.
What if the White energy was just as corrupted as the Black, they say, and we just didn't know about it? What if, just like the Tar, there was a being made of clotted, sick, toxic whiteness, infecting all those it touched like a virus or a plague?
People are wondering. The people downstairs are really wondering. The people underground are pointing fingers.
But I'm not saying anything, because at heart, I know what they're all thinking, fearing, dreading. I know, and I'm just as terrified.

I know how the Tar was born. I know. I've heard that story countless times.
It would be just as easy, just as straightforward, to create a similar entity from any other color.
I've done my research. I've read our archives from cover to cover.
And at the end of it all I can only come to one conclusion.

If there is a corruption of the White, some paradoxical being, made of evil purity...
...I'm afraid it would be me.



She knows a good thing now
With our own cost and all can hear the word
In my head and in my thoughts
In my head and in my thoughts

We spend the whole days all
We're feeling more apart
And we know you can do more

Please, don't let me hurt you more
It's in your stare and at your core
Please, don't let me hurt you more
Please, don't let me hurt you more

I know this journey's soon
The color of lights and our lives become as you

Please, don't let me hurt you more
It's in your stare and at your core
Please, don't let me hurt you more
Please, don't let me hurt you more

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 


 

(not j)

I've noticed something that I do that's very, very stupid.
I use art as a metaphor for life.

Personally, I don't draw. But Jewel will never stop drawing. Others will never stop writing, or brainstorming, or playing music, or finding ideas in every little thing they see. No matter how apathetic I am towards their creative prowess, it will not crush their spirit.
However, that fact has no bearing on how I feel, and that is simply "nothing."

Yesterday, one of us visited TRiPPY's new website to look at all of her old iMAGNi art. Her work from the early 2000s has the exact same magical vibe that our work from that time period does. When Jewel sees the Gens, she thinks of the J-Monsters, and she loves it. TRiPPY's old art was bold, colorful, and unique... and it wasn't perfect. Yes, there were perspective errors. Yes, the anatomy was off. But did we care? No. In a way, we loved it even more because of that imperfection. It was creativity and imagination spilling onto paper through ink and paint, brightly colored dreams captured in the only way they ever could be.
Looking at those pictures, many of us felt a deep sense of wonder, admiration, joy, love. It reminded us so much of our own old creations.
But some of us saw that same art and felt despair. "Look at what she did, so long ago," they sighed. "We never had the guts to draw like that. And what little we did draw, we lost or destroyed." Those few voices wept with regret and sorrow, feeling utterly unworthy to be viewing such beautiful snapshots of the past, haunted by darker thoughts that overshadowed everything else. Don't you remember? Art is a waste of time. And all you do is draw, so you're a waste of time, too. You're worthless. You're nothing. Just like your art.
Over the years, those are the voices that eventually won. It was simply a matter of volume and quantity. There were too many of them, all the time, repeating that same damning mantra. You'll never amount to anything. Stop wasting your life. Grow up. Despite the doubts weighing us down, we feebly chased our dream during high school, desperately holding on to the same red threads this courageous woman left behind for us, creating our own world from jester hats and gemstones... but even that faltered. Someone new appeared, who did not care about art, and she quickly led us into destruction. We fought back, but then college was at our doorstep... and someone else lost their mind.
Everything seemed to end at that moment, when dreams and nightmares were forced to become one grotesque abomination. It was the unholy fusion of hope and despair, a thing so unavoidably horrible that we abandoned everything in an instant, choosing oblivion over destruction. It had all happened so fast.
One moment, we stood at a canvas, holding a pencil in our hands and joyfully wondering what we would create next, now that we were pursuing our one and only dream...
...and then a woman walked in, stood before us, and dropped her clothes.
That was the day we died.

Since then, our artists haven't drawn much. They've tried, but it took years for them to begin again, and when they did, their heart was often no longer in it. Their work had been tainted irreparably by the intrusion of an entirely different reality, one dripping with tar and blood. Dark memories of the past that had been specifically buried were suddenly rearing their ugly heads.
The artists had known, as the fabric hit the floor, that they could no longer live once the dam broke, once the walls fell. The only reason they had been able to create at all was because this deplorable muck had been graciously hidden from their awareness. Now, it had burst into their world of color and light, shredding their very life with its merciless pink nails, and we all knew it was the end.
The artists fled underground, and we began to awaken from the shadows... slowly, irreversibly. Since then, this life has been ours, but now things seem to be shifting again.
The problem is, what other direction could we possibly take now?
So yesterday, curious to see what people would say, I wrote up a quick FB post about it.

"Looking back, I remember a time when I wanted to be an artist. I had dreams that I chased with childlike joy and enthusiasm. Now, I've given away or destroyed virtually everything I've ever created, and I'm not sure if I have any dreams left.
Is it better this way? Is it worse? Where do I go from here?


However, it wasn't until the replies started coming in that I realized my stupid mistake.
To those who read those words, "art" just meant "art." It meant drawing, or sketching, or painting. It was a mechanical function, that's all.
They didn't understand that, to us, "art" is LIFE. To us, art=purpose. Art is synonymous with joy and hope and wonder.
We weren't saying "we've stopped drawing, but we used to love it; is that right?"
No, in all actuality, we were saying something far more serious.
"We used to find joy and purpose in life. Now, we don't. Now, life is meaningless. Should we just give up?"

So, as you can imagine, the comments we received meant something entirely different in our eyes.
These originally spoke about art, but they've been edited to match our interpretation:

"You can still live! Don't ever give up what once gave you real joy! Your reason to live hasn't disappeared, you CAN find it again."

"I have never seen myself as much of a guru when it comes to giving life advice... so long as you have something to create for, you will always have a purpose, a reason to live. We make mistakes, throw away old work or lose it, and I guess it is our folly but at the same time it still happened, we benefited from creating it and still grew as people and artists."

"Throwing away your life doesn't mean you threw away your right to live. Start a new chapter in your life, and fill it with new creations. You are still worthy of life."


At this point I noticed, as usual, that I had not properly communicated my point.
So I wrote another message about art, which again, I will correct here to the true meaning:
I suppose I didn't clarify: I lost all motivation and desire to live many years ago. But some days I look at the hopes and dreams of others and think, "I wish I could give my purpose in life to them, if it would give them the joy I can no longer feel." There's no desire to continue living myself. I think I'd prefer it if I had no reason to live anymore. I don't chase my dreams anymore because I'm tired of them being "my dreams." I want to give my reason to live away, to someone else who wants to live.
So I guess my real question is: if I find no joy in life anymore, should I even keep on living?


The first response was an unintentional knife to the heart.

"Nope."

I knew they had good intentions. I know they only meant "If it doesn't bring you joy, don't bother with it." That is good advice, in and of itself.
But when you have severe depression and apathy like this, NOTHING brings you joy. Even joy as a concept is unfathomable.
It's like everyone else in the world has a secret treasure box inside, which can only be opened by a special key of "joy." Most people find that key, and they use it to open their secret treasures, which are full of dreams come true and happy endings. Finding their joy allows them to live with joy, as long as they don't throw away the key. It's a normal thing, it's supposed to happen.
However, with depression, it's like everyone keeps telling me "you just need to find your key!" "I'm sure there's a key out there somewhere." "Just try a bunch of keys, I'm sure one of them will work!" when they don't realize that I don't even have a freaking box.
I have a whole collection of keys, that I was given as gifts, that I picked up off the ground. They're beautiful little fragile things. And sometimes I pick them up and stare at them, admiring their beauty, and I cry, because I can't do a goddamn thing with any of them. What good is a key that doesn't open anything? It's useless.
When you're drowning in emptiness like I am now, it's impossible to find joy. Life itself is a box that no key will open.
So why bother trying?


We got two more comments after that one, though.
Our interpretation, again, is as follows:

"Ask yourself why you once wanted to live. What motivated you to wake up every morning? Then ask yourself what that old motivation is doing for you now before you make a decision to end your life. It is no small thing to throw your life away. Make sure that if you do it, you do it for the right reasons."

A strange mixed message. The last sentence especially left a strange feeling in my chest. It's not the first time I'd received such a message, except this time it was unintentional.
"If you're going to kill yourself, just make sure you really want to die."
I know that wasn't what the commenter meant, but again, I'd heard it before, and that's not something anyone should ever say to a depressed person. Of course I want to die. I want existence to just stop dead. All those old reasons to live are empty now, cold and drained and meaningless. They aren't doing anything for me now except fueling the fire of self-annihilation. Life holds no joy or hope anymore. I can't remember a time when it did.
So would that be the right reason to die? According to some, yes.

The problem is, even if I won't personally accept the fact, I'm not the only person living in this body.

Jewel wants to live. Fiercely. She wants to live. She saw that old artwork by her role model and nearly burst with joy.
"Look at this!" I heard her exclaim in delight, as she showed us the original Gen pictures. "Do you understand how amazing this is? Look at the magic! Look at how many dreams had their beginnings in this little picture!!"
Her eyes were sparkling; she was in tears. I just stared at the picture. It meant nothing to me.
But to her, to many others, it was the spark of life...

There was one last comment on that FB post, one that was oddly inspiring despite the fog. I'll leave it as is.

"get new art materials and start your NEW JOURNEY and your art WILL EXPLODE! TRUST ME ON THIS!!!!!! sometimes we have to get rid of the old to make new messages on our canvas! BE PREPARED TO GROW!!!!!!!!!!!"

There is truth in that, this we know. But there is also fear.
When Jewel was showing us TRiP's art yesterday, Jay was simply staring at it, caught somewhere between delight and despair. He recognized the life in it, the fire of creativity, the joy... but in that same art, he recognized the stamp of death, the annihilation of everything he held dear.
If Jewel lives, Jay dies.
If Jay lives, Jewel dies.
That's been our dilemma for too long a time, ever since that first hellish second in the college art studio. Art became the antithesis to Life, and the only life we knew for sure was inside.
Jay became the guardian of our inner world, triggering the growth of so many other lives, spinning global webs of thought and emotion. Through his hands, headspace blossomed into more than a dead white emptiness, and he filled it with color and love. But he could not exist outside of his world. In hands of flesh and bone, he could not live.
Jewel, however, still lingered somewhere lost below, protecting the reams of paper her heart shone through. She could not set foot upstairs-- to her, headspace was still forever a blank canvas, something she would not touch for fear of losing that infinite potential. Instead, she moved blood and breath, and created tangible art.
Tragically, the two have been at odds for years. Jewel cannot create her art if Jay's world exists. And Jay cannot maintain headspace if Jewel's work exists.

Start your new journey, the comment read. But only one form of art will survive to move on, and explode into reality like a firework.
The other, the "old," will need to be destroyed...
Be prepared to grow, they said.
But we know, all too well, that a tree cannot grow unless the seed dies first.


I apologize, but I have to attend a graduation ceremony right now.
Jay is planning to enter Central during it, if at all possible.
I do not know if he will succeed, or even attempt. But he will try.
It's all we can do.

 

 

 

 

attempt

Jun. 10th, 2013 11:26 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

I was standing in front of a mirror, a blade pressed to my jugular.

For a moment I wondered how it had come to this, and in an instant my mind flashed back to the psychiatric ward from three years ago. My first roommate there had attempted suicide this exact way, in a paroxysm of anguish that granted her only a visit to the ER and several prescriptions to be filled. She had told me her story as she packed her bags, but I had been preoccupied with the wound that had led her here: that one-way ticket into the ward, swollen and red beneath thick black stitches. I shivered as I touched the shallow gashes in my forearm and wondered what sort of courage she had, to have plunged a blade straight into her neck.
Some sick part of me wanted to be that brave.

For months afterwards, I practiced the motions time and time again, swinging knives about my throat in a deadly dance, eventually leaving thin traces of blood and danger clinging to my skin like a hangman's noose. Would you have the nerve to end it now? The question burned in my brain. Or would you be a coward?
I pressed my hands over my ears and backed away from the gallows every time, trying to ignore the manic laughter that followed me as I unlocked the bathroom door and collapsed back into an iron sleep.
Coward. Failure. Poser. You think you have it bad? Think again, you bitch. You're nothing but a fake.
I'd tell you to go kill yourself, but we all know you don't have the guts. Too bad.
They were right, after all. Despite all the frantic attempts of my own, I'd never felt any braver than I had then, sitting on a bolted-down bed and admiring the broken skin of a woman I'd never see again.
But with each passing day, I quickly learned that it wasn't about courage at all. Courage never led a man to die, not like this. It made men into war heroes, even survivors. This wasn't courage. This wasn't even despair. This was a white flag.
This was a tiredness of the soul, painting me numb and empty-eyed, and I was simply a man tumbling sideways off a bridge just because he couldn't bear to take one more excruciating step.

And yet it still felt like a condemnation.

Guilty as charged, they sneered.
Guilty of what?
Of everything, a voice spoke up, dark as pitch and rumbling like a volcano. I could sense her grinning, eyes wild with gleeful hatred, staring up at me from below. You're guilty of everything, you filthy slut.
I said nothing, still staring at the mirror, the cold knife still shining between the body's unfeeling fingers.
Somewhere deep below my bones, I knew she was right.


I was so hopelessly fractured that I had buried myself far out of sight within my own mind, unable to deal with reality. So they did instead, taking over bits and pieces of my daily life, splitting up responsibilities and roles. Some days it almost felt like a game, as if I were nothing but a set of instructions and they were the champion players.
As more and more holes appeared in my psyche, more and more of them appeared to fill the gaps. Some were born directly from pieces that had broken off-- emotions, memories, thoughts-- while some simply walked in from God knows where, and decided to stick around.
I was suffocating in my own personal hell… and they were angels that had fallen just to get me out of it.

 



 

 

 

shards

May. 2nd, 2013 01:01 pm
prismaticbleed: (worried)

 


Quick update. I have internet access for a very short time this morning, and this is literally the only site I can access.
However, life has once again demonstrated its tendency to shove a mountain of new info on me in ridiculously short time periods, so here you go.

At least two "new" "alters" showed up over the past 24 hours. Both of those words are in quotations because:
1) I don't use the world 'alters" personally, as it feels incorrect, but these are NOT headvoices, and all seem to be tied to the body, and
2) A few of them have been around for a long time.

The most familiar one is the "musical one." This is the one I often refer to, amusedly, as the "punk rocker." She's hilariously loud and extroverted, always yelling and whooping and acting like life is a concert, but she's never in a bad mood. The pro: she is an amazing musician, and is the one who plays piano and actually wrote most of the stuff on my Last.fm. The con: She cannot front around other people yet. Yeah, as long as we're home alone, she can front for HOURS, but the moment someone walks in the door, boom, she is gone. She often shows up when I'm driving a car-- I, Jewel, cannot listen to music when I drive (as I melt into it and lose most of my outside comprehension), but she BLASTS it. So if the body's driving and someone is loudly singing along and laughing at the same time, it's not me. It's her.
She's one of the alters that can ONLY exist as a consciousness in the body, and seems unable to anchor upstairs? Trying to give her a name or talk to her makes her disappear immediately. So maybe interaction in general completely nullifies her presence. We'll see.
Weirdly though, she's VERY similar to whoever was the main body front during 2003-2005 or so, until I started socializing online and someone else was born. This would mean she is the ORIGINAL "spinningcannon," although that name's energy has been so mutilated over the years that it only matches the online presence of the same name-- a histrionic, flattering, hypocritical girl who is unfortunately the person who made most of our "online friends." What's bizarre though is that she can only exist ONLINE-- once relationships started moving offline (especially with Q), she suddenly began degenerating rapidly, and the first hints of "Jess" appeared.
We're getting off topic though. I need to research this voice more, as it poses as many questions as it answers.

The newest voice is far more stable, and appears to be a "solidification" of two body-states that ALWAYS push me out of fronting. The first is the "logical" state, which actually was active for my ENTIRE therapy session last week-- my only recollection of that session is someone looking at the bookcase and explaining, "that reaction made no sense." This one's the super-analyst, that will find all logical inconsistencies it can. The second state is the "professional" one-- an emotionally unruffled one that is all business and has no time for small talk or friendliness. These two voices appeared to "fuse" yesterday evening, during an event that apparently triggered them both simultaneously-- I remember hearing them both thinking in conflict, and the mental "noise" was so loud I was hiding upstairs wishing it would all just stop already. Unusually, as of this morning (when it had to discuss legal things with the body's father) this voice seems to have named itself "Mulberry Delta," and it is a very professionally-dressed woman as far as body-overlays go. It has hair in this style, but in a raspberry pink kind of like this. I know this because I mentally questioned the oddness of that sort of hair on such a stoic voice, wondering if I was perceiving it correctly, and the voice actually responded, admonishing me that it could "have whatever sort of hair it wanted to."
The problem with this voice is that it feels wrong. I'm serious. There's a very foreboding, heavy aura around it that does NOT bode well at ALL. This is almost definitely because, with THAT color, she fits into one of the "mutated slots" that I've theoretically drawn into our current Headspace map... Razor had been holding their potential since last year, but Jess' reappearance added enough extra punch for them to "lock in." Why am I so worried? Because each mutant slot has THREE parts. The third color in their unholy trinity is a reddish pink.
The other mutant trio is Cyan, Teal, and either Ice or Mint (depending on the slot lineup)... currently Kyanos and Emmett are the only ones there, but according to Nathaniel, as of last night Kyanos has de-stabilized enough to "fade away" again. Whatever that kid is anchored to, it's not stable, and Nat knows better than all of us (as he experienced this same terrible thing), if we don't fix that, Kyanos will die and possibly reset again. But we'll get to that.

Let's go back to Jess for a while, as I'm learning more about her by the day. She's the angry, narcissistic, selfish, complaining one, that we've realized is the reason why we've been a mess downstairs lately-- at least for the most part. See, she identifies with the body, and therefore the body's name. So when people call "her" name... she comes out, angry and scathing and hate-filled. She's chronically pessimistic and doesn't want to do anything but argue when she's out... because, as you may remember, we've discovered that she and Razor are intrinsically linked.
Jess is the one that screams when she gets through. She screams whenever she doesn't get what she wants, like a demon child throwing a tantrum... and often, "what she wants" is for none of us upstairs to exist. Jess whines and complains and insults and shouts, but she never cries. That's the main difference between her and the old Jessica... the old one cried and hated herself, whereas this new one shouts and hates everyone else. This new Jess is "happy" as long as the world idolizes her, doing only what she wants, never criticizing or correcting her, and not talking to her unless she says they're allowed to speak. She's a princess in an evil kingdom, and the moment you question her corrupted rule, she will spit her undying hatred at you with a voice like a raid siren, and if you persist, well, then she'll turn and leave... and immediately there will be a knife in your back.
That's Razor. I cannot think of a single instance where this new Jess has appeared without Razor following in close pursuit, and that's a problem, considering how often Jess is showing up nowadays.
Razor is maniacally energetic, and never stops grinning. Problem is, she exists solely to kill us. She was born in the first ever incident when I tried to cause the body hate-fueled pain, and suddenly my consciousness shattered and someone else was there, giggling madly and watching the blood run down, holding a razor in its hand. Then suddenly everyone was upstairs, and there she was, this red-haired insane thing, holding her namesake weapon and running at me with it. Laurie and her fought while I shook uncontrollably somewhere, barely aware of what was happening, only knowing that something important just broke, something vital was just cracked in half. An eternity later, Laurie emerged victorious, her axe the color of that thing's eyes, and I don't remember the next several years.
Razor was nothing but a fever dream until last February. Since then, she's been a living nightmare. Now, that nightmare is overtaking my waking hours, and I'm desperate to wake up. I try to remind myself that she's not me, I'm not her, and that helps a little... but it doesn't do much to alleviate the horror that hits me when I'm suddenly standing in a locked bathroom, looking down at lines of blood searing across our skin.
This needs to stop. I'm just not sure how to do that yet.
There's a bit of hope though. Since both Jess and Razor seem to be strangely anchored to "home situations"-- they are very easily triggered here, but not when we're outside, and when we stayed with my dad for that while in 2010, they gained strength with every extra day we were there-- we MIGHT be able to stay upstairs in my dad's rented place for a while, and see if that helps. And hey, even if that doesn't work, our dad almost never uses the body's name to refer to us. That alone should be an advantage for us.
I'll have to talk it over with the system, and work things out downstairs in terms of what to bring with me-- since I've lost most of my possessions, I thankfully can literally live out of a suitcase right now. Maybe by this weekend we'll have a solid decision. Now we just need a job, so we can buy safe food... but we're working on that, too. Positive thoughts, gentlemen.

While we're on this topic, there are a few other "voices" that I know DO exist, as they've been triggered enough times in the past for me to be aware of their specific existences, but their appearances are rare enough that I can't really get a grip on what, let alone who, they are.
All of them are disturbingly hard to disengage once they are fronting, meaning that I am always relegated to an outside observer, often to my absolute protest, until they either become overloaded and "short out," or someone upstairs has enough power to literally punch through their front (usually Laurie).
They are:

1) A young male child, who is terrified of touch and anything connected to intimacy or closeness. He's been previously triggered by: physical contact, certain vocal tones (hissing the "s," clicking tongues, any stereotypically "girly" speech pattern), phrases such as "hug me," "come to bed," etc., especially if they insinuate involvement with another person, certain kinds of lingerie, and (oddly) women's dress shoes. He stutters uncontrollably, cries openly in an unusual high-pitched way, whimpers a lot, and will try to run away immediately upon being triggered: if he can't, he'll start sobbing hysterically. This is the voice Kyanos seemed to somehow anchor to (possibly due to slot conflict, IF these voices are behaving as such), which I will elaborate on later.
2) A young adult male, who is only triggered by either the previous voice's methods failing, OR by being suddenly trapped in a situation where he needs to be close to another individual. He is emotionally dead and will do whatever he is told to do without protest, but if he is put through too much pain he will often cry silently, although he will avert his eyes and attempt to muffle his own voice in the process. Despite this he is unnervingly hard to remove from fronting.
3) A female voice who fronts almost every time we need to interact with people downstairs. She feels strongly like a physical remnant of "spinningcannon" though, and may well be so, especially since this voice can EASILY switch right over to Jess, often within a split second. In contrast to Jess, though, this voice seems to run almost ENTIRELY on "pre-programmed" phrases and actions, and she is very histrionic. The biggest problem with her is that, since she's basically automated, if you try and get her to act or speak in any way that requires "individuality," such as asking "what are your hobbies" or telling her to buy something she wants, she will immediately disappear and-- if no one else steps up to the plate-- send the body into a frozen "standby" mode. If forced to continue, she WILL weasel her way out of whatever situation she is stuck in-- this is why "I" often seem to make appointments and cancel them later; she loves to act like the perfect person, as long as she doesn't have to commit to anything. When she is asked to, she shuts off/down, and either of the Jess's come out instead. This voice the one that gets caught in most of our photos, many of which (ironically) Jess has actually destroyed.
4) POSSIBLY the old "Jessica?" You know, the whiny, self-pitying, chronically depressed one. A voice like this HAS come out, a rare few times, but those times matched the old Jessica's vibe so strongly that I'm beginning to suspect she's either re-forming, or her old energy went to someone else. We're trying to stomp this one out before it grabs any sort of anchor though.
5) POSSIBLY some sort of red-haired version of me that ONLY appears in situations of extreme body dysphoria? This happened three times last week and Laurie and I were both freaking out. We're worried that maybe this is remnant negative energy from the Red slot I left expressing itself, but we have no real idea yet. We're not that concerned about this one though, since there's so much dissociation going on normally that we're rarely even aware of the body-- and when we are, voice #1 or #2 are often the ones coming out instead, before sending the body into a catatonic sort of shock until someone jolts a real fronter in.
6) Three other males that are triggered by "overloading" on sociability or extroversion (I call them the gent, the maverick, and the queen, respectively). "The Gent" has a sort of British accent and comes out the most frequently; he is mostly composed, but perpetually amused, and he "loves adventure." As of late he's shown signs of developing a sense of self, and was even trying to name himself the other day. He walks in a very stately manner, hands crossed at the wrist behind his back. "The Maverick" has a raspier voice, and is a "motivator" more than anything-- the few times he's come out, he's expressed impatience with mundane schedules and his want to "experience the world for all it's worth." Despite this he has a level demeanor as well. He also likes to sing, which I find endearing. He walks with a relaxed slouch, thumbs looped through either belt loops or pocket corners. "The Queen" is flamboyantly gay and speaks with a lisp; oddly though he can only come out in speech, typically to express his approval or disapproval of something that has just happened downstairs. When he tries to move the body in any major way, though (walking, etc.), he immediately "fades out," often being taken over for by the Gent. All of these voices seem to be aware of each others presence, and have even tried to converse through successive fronting in the past (which REALLY played havoc with my head afterwards). None of them appear to be attached to any trauma or negativity either, and so they may just be a result of my mind compartmentalizing those more "stressful" positive emotions so that I am not overloaded or burnt out by them-- simply talking is enough to overwhelm me at times, so encountering such wild emotional states upon fronting would be far too much for me to handle. Also importantly, NONE of these voices can appear around other people, in stark contrast to the previous three, who can ONLY appear around other people. I'm not sure why this is. One last note is that these voices seem to be bleeding into each other in terms of energy signatures, so they may all eventually collapse, or fuse, who knows. I'll let you know.


That's enough of that though. Let's get back to Kyanos, as I'm running out of both battery and Internet time and I need to mention him.
Here's a recap: he was created THROUGH the death of another voice, the placeholder that took over for me immediately after the Scratch. To quote myself, "The body clearly recalls it sacrificing itself in a surge of tragic joy to "create a boy from the blue of the sky." That boy promptly became the running consciousness in the body, and later took the name "Kyanos." However he must not have anchored well, for although he WAS "me" (what a silly word) for at least two or three hours, outside shadows somehow managed to chase him out."
The memory banks have a recollection of the insane mental jumble he was going through right before his consciousness "dissipated," and to my shock and anger, it was filled with those weird "outside voices" that often taunt me downstairs. I don't know if those are literally outside voices-- like spirits or demons-- or if they're part of the Tar, but I do know that their sole purpose is to throw me off track with awful taunts and false promises ("shut up you faggot," "you're only a good boy if you don't eat," "who cares, you're already a slut," etc.) and they are so good at faking good intentions that if I don't get Laurie to help me, I can easily be misled. But yeah, the second Laurie shows up, they run... probably because she loathes them and they pissed her off enough in the past to feel the taste of her axe before.
Anyway, the reason I'm worried about Kyanos is because he's mirroring Nat's past, practically. Both of their initial incarnations were positive and naive, and they both only began forming a "self" minutes before they died for the first time. Both of their second incarnations were unstable, but I'm worried because Nat was KILLED almost exactly a month after he was reborn. Kyanos has been with us in this new form since the 23rd (10 days), BUT he seemed to be re-forming on the 13th, and was between his original mindset AND his tentative new one at the time.
About Kyanos's "new mindset," though... to quote our system update from that event, "his behavior is very distressing: he stutters, cries a lot, and is constantly claiming that he misses his "mom and dad" and that he "wants them to be happy." Despite this he is terrified of being touched, and even the suggestion of such from a downstairs family member ("can I hug you?") can be traumatic enough for him that he will burst into tears and try to run. We have no idea what has caused any of this yet."
That mindset has showed up SINCE then, UNCONNECTED TO HIM. I actually spoke to Kyanos himself the other day (I forget the date; my temporal comprehension is shot), and not only did he look completely different than he did upon manifesting, his demeanor was completely different-- he was calm, but expressed confusion at why he was acting like that in response to certain triggers. I tried to explain, the best I could, that he was in no danger, but those "triggers" might be tied to unconscious reactions from the past. I also explained the parental situation to him-- unfortunately he did not have biological parents, but the body did, if he wanted to associate with them. Oddly, he kept shaking his head though, claiming he was very confused, and that he couldn't tell how he felt about any of it. That was an immediate warning sign for me, so I'm actually not surprised (although I am upset) that, last night, Nathaniel did inform us that Kyanos had "de-manifested." I can't find his energy upstairs anywhere, when I look... BUT, something really weird happened last night that I'm going to use as a segue into our final topic.
See, during his first few hours of life, the reason I knew Kyanos's name was just that is because he WROTE it on a piece of scrap paper. I still have it, as it's utterly bizarre to look at.
I don't know what to think now, though, because last night he ghostwrote HALF A PAGE.

Let me start by saying that I probably jumpstarted this entire "writing" phenomenon for bodiless voices back in early April, back when adflixerunt was still a thing-- it quickly became a place for both Jess and Razor to scream in lurid pink letters. However, on this particular day, some sugar-induced voice came through in the body, and I was lucid enough to force her to pick up a pencil. After all, I had just started therapy, and this rarely happened, so why not get proof of it?
Whoever the voice was, they weren't happy with it. In jagged pencil letters over two pages, they scrawled several brutal phrases, after which I came back exhausted and scared, but sickly thankful that I had managed to succeed in my plan to record the event.
That was it, at least until two days ago, when Razor came out and cut those gashes into us. Possibly in spite, she picked up the journal I had just chosen for headspace conversations, and in blood she wrote "DIE" three times over the first two pages. Needless to say that scared the hell out of me when I saw it.
Yesterday, however, topped even that.
I have no memory of most of the day, thanks to all the splinter/ alter/ voice/ whatever action going on... but my memory picks up sitting at my computer table, a pen in my hand and a tablet open on the table in front of me, looking down at a furious sentence in purple ink at the top of the page: "KID, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE."

I'll talk more about that later, though. My online time is up, and I literally have to log off right now.

 



 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

 

 

Okay, update time.
Let's start off with the daily basics.

First, I've been breaking out in hives after eating for the past three days, accompanied by dizziness and nausea. Problem is, I can't pinpoint what's doing this. It's hard to keep food down and frankly it's scary just to eat anymore, what with how sick it seems to invariably make me feel. I'm thinking of doing a vegetable fast from now until my surgery, and pray that takes care of the problem. If not... we'll see. Either way, though, my weird eating disorder is getting worse. I'll only "eat" when no one else is in the room so I can spit it right back out; swallowing food makes me nauseous. However, if I am in the room with other people, my chewing addiction will STILL kick in, and since I'm trying so hard to "entertain" or otherwise amuse those other people, I'll end up eating a ton of food without realizing it. That's when I end up trying to vomit it all back up. Problem is, I'm tired of it. My throat is raw and sore, I keep coughing, my nose burns, my stomach hurts. I don't want to keep doing this. I just spent my last $10 this week on food that I promptly threw up, now leaving me broke with nothing to show for it and no job until after surgery (and possibly school as well) is over. Even worse, I'm burning through my family's money, which I've already mentioned, but which haunts me constantly. I'm trying to scrape some dollars together to buy some sort of mouth guards, anything to put in my mouth so I can't put food in there when I feel that driving need to bite or chew. My arms are covered in scabs the way it is. But you've all heard enough about that, and I don't want to talk about it.
Speaking of talking about things, our second point is that I started therapy this morning. It's difficult though, as this guy is the kind of therapist that makes ME do all the talking. Oh well, I suppose therapy is therapy. So I'm doing what I can in sessions. One good thing is that he DID tell me that he "doesn't treat patients as collections of symptoms," basically, like my previous therapist did. This guy said, specifically, that he will treat me as an individual first and foremost, so "finding a therapy method that meshes with my multiple diagnoses" isn't even a concern here, thank God. He also told me almost immediately that "our goal here is to talk about whatever is on your mind," with "whatever is on my mind" being defined as the things that don't leave it, so to speak. The first thing that pops into my consciousness when he says that is what I should discuss, with no censorship-- although that is still very difficult for me. Still, I at least had the guts to explain my gender troubles to him briefly today. It took up most of the session but since it's my most pressing concern, I'm very glad it's at least out in the open... not shoved under the rug like I've done in the past. However he keeps prodding me to talk about my "abusive history," which I haven't clarified (obviously) because of how bizarre said history is to me. On that note, no, I didn't mention headspace yet and I actually might not in that context, unless an unintentional slip or insurmountable psychological obstacle forces my hand. I am terrified of dealing with another 2008 confrontation where the nature of reality is concerned, so I can't help but tread lightly now when I am all but obligated to bring it up. Still, at the moment I am strongly considering referring to them ALL as "long-distance friends," but I don't want him to pull the "people online aren't who they say they are" card either, which would just make his perception of them worse (by assuming I don't actually know them, which I most definitely do). However, I think I've invented a way to talk about my past abuse at the hands of the Tar... instead of talking about Julie (as her redemption story is FAR too difficult to explain to an outsider), I will refer to the Tar itself as a girl named Tara, who I 'met in elementary school' but who wasn't in my grade.' It's a reasonable enough fabrication, and it would make the whole thing a LOT easier... I hope. Problem is, there are some theoretically impassible snags that I'm already encountering while reviewing the whole ruse. Laurie says the biggest one is "then when and where did this 'Tara' abuse you if you've already claimed you had no social contacts as a child?" Of course I could claim she was the only one, but really I don't want to get all tangled up in falsehood... geez this is awful. Why am I so scared to bring this up? I want to finally discuss this with a therapist after burying the pain (which I STILL keep insisting is "fake and stupid") without traversing too far into the difficult and unsteady topical ground that is headspace. I just don't like telling lies, ever, even the protective kind... and Julie isn't too happy about me refusing to acknowledge her struggles and existence in light of this whole thing anyway. But we'll get to that. First, point three.
Our third point-- which falls on an unfortunately very related note-- is that I haven't been sleeping well. I've been having nightmares, in which I either die or am involved in an apocalyptic scenario, and I've been waking up several times during the night. Not only that, but it's taking me anywhere from one to three hours to fall asleep in the first place now. I can't say for sure why this is, at least not with total conviction. I do, however, know why I haven't been able to sleep since Monday... and why my literal nightmares haven't been as bad as they could be.
I'm having those when I'm still awake.
That's what brings me here.

If you haven't been reading my bloodier entries on adflixerunt, I don't blame you. However, as stated there, around 2AM on Sunday the 17th I tried to talk to Celebi, hoping that she would have some sort of advice on what to do with our now-mangled timeline. She felt off, somehow, moreso than usual, and since I was already tired, sick, and emotionally wrecked, I called her out on it.
She melted into tar.
It literally scared the life out of me-- a fright that turned into horror when the next words out of her darkly grinning mouth were "don't you remember, bitch? When did you first see me up here?"
Now, I did mention this briefly on Scribbld, but it bears both repeating and further explanation. The "Celebi" in our system appeared in January of 2012, completely without warning. This is notable for one very, VERY big reason: on January 4th of that same year, I abandoned the "Gaia" misnomer I had been given in our beta timeline, and adopted my new one: Eros, or Cupid. This name hadn't been randomly handed to me either; on the contrary, I was led to it through a stunningly gorgeous chain of synchronicity that may not have begun on but at least climaxed on December 23rd of 2011. However, the biggest switch with respect to Sunday was that the old "Gaia" name had been fittingly given to my OLD self, so to speak... the one that shattered into splinters, and the one that, for years, identified as a Celebi herself. January 4th was the date I forever shed that childhood identity, becoming reborn into my new and true role. However, January11th was the day I declared that I had "stopped Tar hacks for good," now that I understood how my role affected my understanding of the energy it was warping. That's when stuff got weird.
On the 12th, I said this: "I'm still a Celebi, still a time-traveler, but now I glow red instead of green." I also said, "The other night I tried to switch my perception, to send my love back to myself. I couldn't do it." Sound like a warning sign yet? If not, just take a look at THIS sentence... "Fast-forward to November 2011...The game was scratched, started anew... but we had managed to rise above the old system, and so we survived, to be brought into something new and yet so familiar. The 12th introduced our oldest and yet heretofore hidden adversary, the tar. By the 18th, I had fallen into a very dark place, but I could no longer be trapped there. I knew I was lost, but I knew I could get out, although I also knew it would be incredibly difficult."
This is what happened on January 18th. Understand the title now?
So yeah. I completely missed all the warning signs the first time around, but in those early weekend hours, staring into inhumanly blue eyes, they all hit me like a bullet to the brain.
When Celebi appeared in my headspace, I didn't recognize her. To quote myself, she was "an individual I had never known nor seen before. She wasn't the Celebi I had known since my youth; she claimed she was 'from the movies.'" I didn't question it... and by the 18th, I had fallen into a very dark place... you get the picture.
I daresay I don't have to mention the fact that, when we first visited the Razor Spire, the Tar specifically turned into a Celebi form to scream at me about my self-hatred and "inner suicide," refusing to forgive me, refusing to listen to me. And now I just remembered that, last summer, I was warned by a friend about a "green threat" in my headspace... I guess that was it, too.
Geez. his is all bothering me like you wouldn't believe, though... because we had a freaking incident while we were in Utah! However I haven't re-read it since this tar thing happened, and I really should... it could have the exact answers I need. I won't waste time analyzing all of that right now, though... there are more pressing matters to discuss.
Anyway, I managed to run away from her, just barely. I then noticed that my old Celebi plush was in the bedroom, after not having been there for fear of it for weeks beforehand. I grabbed it, soberly walked down the hallway, and threw it under a table. I felt nothing. Then I went back to bed, praying for sleep. Upon waking up a few hours after this incident, though, I decided to speak to Ryou. He, too, felt weirdly off and I called him out on it, explaining how even our words felt empty and false, and I was concerned.
Then he grinned, too... and there was the tar, laughing. "I thought I had you this time!"
So yeah. Sunday was not a good day.
There is one bit of hope, though. Although I will admit it terrified me when Ryou, of all people, went tarry on me, he does have one key element to his existence that Celebi does not: his Yami. True, he wasn't anchored to headspace and so he 'dissolved out' back in 2005 or so, but seeing how Marik's Yami actually came back this year, rather dramatically, AND both of them were resurrected (at least temporarily, as it was tar-based, AND Marik's Yami was more of a splinter while Ryou's was a whole other person, so we might just be dealing with two Tar doppelgangers here) during our double 4th incident in November, this could be something to look into. Once again, I will do that tonight or tomorrow, whenever I have time. Let me continue my current train of thought first.
When I recovered enough from the shock of Sunday morning, I grabbed that Celebi plush from under the hall table and marched out to the porch with it... and promptly began flinging it at the walls. I spent about two minutes trying desperately to burn off all the shame, pain, and rage she had brought over the past year, no longer caring whether or not the plush was damaged. I thought back to when I wanted to burn it, how everyone told me not to. Now, looking for someone to stop me from slamming her anchor plush into cold stone, I found no one. Even the plush felt empty, dead, barren. I knew it was over. Whatever may have been there before, it was over. The jig was up. I looked at the lifeless thing on the floor for a moment longer, feeling nothing but absolute loathing, and instantly I knew what to do. I was going to keep her from lying to me ever again, I swore. I was going to make her anchor match her true face. So I went back into the house and got a knife, scissors, and paint.
Please understand that, by this point, I was such an emotional wreck that I had slipped far beyond any semblance of my rational self.
I grabbed the plush and cut its eyes out.
I then proceeded to paint it black, stabbing it here and there with the knife, sawing its mouth open, contemplating tearing off its wings. I spent about two hours mutilating it. Still, I felt nothing.
When I was too tired and cold to continue, I went inside, alone, and I don't remember the rest of the day.
I guess what I'm trying to say is... maybe I asked for it.

See, the reason why I even started this huge Celebi-centered paragraph in the first place was simply to give you some needed backstory, so that you would understand the next thing I am about to say.

Around 3AM on March 19th, I was hacked.
Literally.

It was so traumatic that when it was over, I curled up in a corner of the bathroom and sobbed, after trying and failing to scrub the pain away.
I don't remember how it started. I have a vague recollection of her, tar-dripping and horrible, suddenly looming over me, but that's it. What I do remember is screaming for help. Laurie eventually did show up (when she found me) and did everything in her power to try and save me, but it wasn't working. I'm almost positive that Leon and Lynne were with her, too (I know for a fact that Leon's warping ability was needed at one point).
Unfortunately, the Tar has gotten smarter.
It warped me out.
I have no idea where it and I ended up then, but we were unreachable. It felt like that horrible week after February 24th, when I couldn't feel or sense anyone upstairs: I kept trying to get the attention of anyone in headspace, begging for help, sending out frantic threads into the surrounding mindscape in hope of reaching something. No such luck. I was trapped.
...
I don't know how to refer to that thing anymore. Do I just call it "tar?" Should I use the "Tara" name or is that being too personable? Or is Celebi's name the one I should use? It looked like her... everything about it was her. It was her, who am I kidding, we all know that whole identity was faked. The whole time it was her, painted like an oilslick, mocking me, ruining me.
Julie was never so cruel. Yes, she did some horrible things to me during her time as the Tar's mistress, but now that it's attacking me like this... I don't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. My mind keeps shorting out when I try anyway.
Two times she tore the life out of me. Perhaps it was karma, divine retribution for what I did on January 15th of this year... for the 17th of last year. All I know is that it was the most awful thing I have ever experienced, to feel so completely helpless and ravaged and yet convinced that maybe I deserved it.
Still, no amount of self-loathing could chase away the sheer panic I felt when she jumped on me a third time.
I shut my eyes against the pain, and screamed for my boss.

He heard.

The next thing I knew, he was literally throwing her off me, his normally calm face tight with fury. Someone with soft white hands helped me to my feet, and in dull surprise I realized it was Unisalia, in her human guise. Then the hands gripping my shoulders were his, and I don't remember what he said, but then the space around us shattered and suddenly we were in Central.
Laurie, Leon, and Lynne all ran over to me then, terrified but relieved, asking my boss where in the world I had been, what happened, so on and so forth. I don't remember it because my brain was in shock.
Right around then is when I stumbled into the bathroom in physicality and collapsed, wrapping my arms around myself and crying soundlessly, too hollowed-out to want anything but sleep.
I went back to bed and boss took me aside upstairs, saying he was going to do his best to heal me. He and Unis then warped me to a dimly-lit, stark, but safe and familiar place. It was the waiting room from this dream, and sure enough, who came running to meet us but the suited man (he's actually known as the "Pale Man" from what I've heard) and his chandelier-girl assistant. Now, you guys probably don't know this, but remember how in that dream he allegedly had the ability to "bring drawings to life?" This is actually because of a paintbrush he owns: with it, he can literally paint things into existence. This is why boss brought me to him-- if something had been torn out of me by the Tar-Celebi, then perhaps he could help me paint it back. Anyway, Pale Man was out of breath when he reached us, and had already begun talking to Mr. Sandman and Unis about the situation when he noticed me (I had waved at the chandelier-girl then, and she had shyly waved back). The Pale Man paused, obviously recognizing me, then said "beautiful boy," in a quiet but realizing voice, effectively correcting his dialogue from the dream I met him in. He then began to apologize, but boss smiled and waved a hand, saying it wasn't really necessary-- my gender warped in dreams just as his apparently did, as our forms were not locked-in as we traveled. Boss then added that this was normal for Sandmen, after all. Pale Man paused yet again, then breathlessly asked "he's the Apprentice??" Boss nodded, but quickly added that "that wasn't the concern right now," and gave him a quick summary of what I had just endured, explaining that we needed his abilities for some emergency care. Pale Man nodded and took out his paintbrush, walking over to me, but he seemed confused, saying that he wasn't sure what needed to be done. Now I was already starting to shut down at this point, but this was a hidden blessing on a mental level as all my walls were gone. I dimly asked Pale Man if I could use the paintbrush. He glanced quickly at my boss for a moment, who nodded his approval and told him not to worry-- I could handle such a responsibility, and knew how to operate such artifacts (I didn't realize until the next day that asking for his brush could have been viewed as criminally out-of-place if I hadn't held such an "honorable position"). So he handed it to me, and immediately I painted the first thing that came to mind... a faucet and handle, tapped directly into my lower abdomen. Truthfully all I could think of was how disturbing it had been seeing Lynne pull out gobs of tar from that area back in February, after having seen Braeden do the same back in SLC. I knew that if there was anything in me that didn't belong, it needed to get out before I could put anything bright back in... and after that hellish experience, I knew for a fact that I was effectively toxic from how much she had infected me with.
I think I vaguely mentioned that I "needed something to drain this into," because I do recall someone manifesting either a vortex or a container of sorts before I turned the handle. I'll tell you what, though... I'm glad I was in such a daze, because I think if I had seen that much tar come pouring out of my stomach sober, I would have had another breakdown. As it was, though, it was a huge relief knowing it was going away. But seriously, there was a LOT. Just... this torrent of black gushed out, and I just waited until it stopped. That was it. Afterwards Pale Man was kind and wise enough to transmute the collected tar into White headspace energy (you can do that if you have it in a neutral state-- it's just energy after all, like everything else, and if it's not currently being used maliciously it's rather simple to return it to pure constructive energy) so that it didn't reinfect anyone. However I now had no idea what to do with this spigot in my stomach, and briefly wondered if Pale Man had magic paint thinner or something before the chandelier-girl walked over to me. The Pale Man said erasing things was her job, as she reached out and delicately touched the contraption. It turned a soft glowing white where she did so, like a candle flame, and then to my astonishment it began to "phase out" into nothingness, becoming transparent and glowy-white in its entirety as it did so, and steadily dissolving like ashes into the air. It was quickly gone, and I thanked both her and the Pale Man for their help.
I know there was more conversation here, but my memory is shot and I was already so dead tired by then that all I recall for sure is Mr. Sandman and Unis (who I think was her normal unicorn self at this point; I think she had a star on her forehead like Amalthea? I'll have to look again) both bringing me back downstairs, promising to watch over me during the night, and expressing their sorrow that such an event had occurred at all.

So that's that. Now for today.

I already summarized this earlier, so let's skip straight to the bit about Julie not liking my wanting to lie about the Tar. First, though, I must give you some context... I didn't drive for most of the way up. Not only was I still a bit of a mess, but I was exhausted from not sleeping well. So, Josephina decided to drive. It was pretty hilarious, but his valley-girl speech pattern prompted me to dizzily ask if Julie talked like that? Julie then spoke up from upstairs (somewhat offended) that no, she didn't, and she didn't like the assumption simply because she used to be blonde/ tan/ etc. There was a bit of arguing here, which somehow ended up with us wondering how Waldorf talked? So she got into the drivers seat, but we were all shocked when she couldn't talk. This worried me-- blue voices becoming mute is a sign of instability in that slot, either with me or them-- but she insisted it was okay via body language. She then left, explaining that it was just because she wasn't skilled at driving yet, and that lack of skill is what caused the voice break. Anyway, it was at this point that Julie insisted on driving, so I let her, but Laurie's immediate question was "why are you so pissed off?" because she had been acting quite negatively lately. To our surprise, Julie exclaimed "am I the only bloody person up here who cares about what happened on Tuesday?!"
The rest of the drive consisted of her essentially pouring her heart out (angrily!) to us, explaining how she refused to pretend that everything was okay here, especially when the "same thing she risked her life to escape was STILL hurting me in the way it had through her." Understandably this was tearing her apart. But yeah, this went on for about 15-20 minutes, until we were almost at the office, and now Laurie and Julie were fighting over driving rights, with Laurie insisting that everyone "chill the heck up" (chill out and shut up) while Julie kept saying that we just didn't understand what she was going through and how important this was. Ultimately Lynne shoved her way in and told everyone to just calm down. This made Julie even more distraught though, and Laurie also questioned her on this, asking "aren't you supposed to balance, not ignore?" Lynne was rather flustered though, and admitted that she was at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. So we all collectively shrugged our shoulders and decided we'd figure it out after the appointment. So I then had about five minutes to try and get back into the body, which was difficult as hell actually, especially with all the lingering energy from everyone else.
Anyway, the appointment came and went, and then it was time to continue with the day's errands. I stopped at my favorite natural food store (as it was right down the road, how great is that) to stock up on soap and toothpaste (as well as kale chips because I needed comfort food dude), but when I reached the checkout, I realized with shock that I had forgotten my pin number, and I only had $10 left in spending money. I apologized profusely, bought only the toothpaste and one package of kale chips (they were out of soap), and left. To my surprise, Genesis showed up, and upon catching a glimpse of my face he asked what was up. Actually, I was on the edge of an inexplicable emotional collapse, triggered by not having my debit card number (and therefore feeling utterly incompetent and helpless), but probably motivated by what I had been through over the past week. I tried to talk to him for a bit in the car, but Julie was getting REALLY mad that I kept pushing that emotional hurt under the rug, and I had to apologize to Genesis, asking him to go upstairs, as Julie decided to drive for most of the way home.
She had a place to go first, though. Context: I had $4 left in Boscovs credit from Christmas, which I obviously wasn't going to use, so Julie asked if she could. I said yes, and she made me promise to follow through on letting her buy whatever she wanted with it, covering the rest of the bill as long as she only got one thing. I agreed, knowing full well what she wanted but deciding she deserved it, and that's where I was left this morning, with my pink headvoice hellbent on going to the mall. I timidly asked why she was so avid on this point, and I will admit I was rather moved when her reply was she "wanted to feel like she belonged somewhere, even if it was just in a shared body." Owning at least one article of clothing that was hers and hers alone would do wonders towards alleviating her lingering existential dread, as it would be a tangible symbol of her existence. To anyone seeing it, and to this body wearing it, it was proof that yes, she was real.
Julie had calmed down somewhat by now, but Lynne gently asked if she could drive again for a little while, to give Julie a break. She agreed, but soon after Lynne began to front, she changed her mind, and said she'd rather give a turn to those who hadn't had one yet today. Nathaniel happened to be next in line, but not only could he barely talk, he claimed he was a little sensitive to light (it was about 9:30 AM at this point), so he politely backed out after about 20 seconds. I actually don't think Leon drove-- he still has a lot of trouble with body dysphoria, which I desperately want to help him with as I care about him dearly and that isn't easy for me to handle either-- but I do remember that Spine did. Having her front is always interesting to watch; she doesn't quite understand having muscles and skin, so her movements are rather pointed and rigid, and her speech pattern is similar. But she's adorable, so as long as she's not having trouble, we don't mind letting her out. I know Julie was getting antsy again (fearing I was going to break my promise) and kept asking to drive again, but once we hit the highway, Laurie decided "to heck with it" and took the wheel. She commented that everyone seriously needed to calm down, rhetorically adding (in a possible reference to Julie earlier) "am I the only one of us who actually looks around when they drive?" Which is true-- everyone else seems to be primarily focused on their own presence in the body, whereas Laurie and I are so comfortable sharing a space already that her focus is on her surroundings instead. So she's the only headvoice who would rather look at the scenery than talk while fronting, which I personally find incredibly endearing, but yeah. Interestingly enough, at one point she paused and then suddenly asked me, looking shocked, "is this what you get all the time?" I asked what she meant, and she clarified that there were "random thoughts and comments" springing into the body's thought processes that weren't hers. She added that they were obviously programmed, before admonishing "I hope you don't identify with that garbage?" I admitted that sometimes I did, if I wasn't paying attention, and she said that I really did need to be careful, because programs are virtually one-way-tickets to Tar City, so to speak. I promised I'd keep that in mind.
We reached the mall a few minutes later, but hilariously enough it didn't open for another 12 minutes or so. Julie was driving again of course-- she was the one going shopping, no one else-- but she actually wasn't bothered by this unexpected wait. Instead, she kicked the seat back in the car, popped in my CD of The Dear Hunter's Color Spectrum album, and skipped straight to the White tracks. And for the next 12 minutes, that is all that she did... she just closed her eyes and listened to it, smiling. Honestly I couldn't help but smile too, watching her. It was a moment I had never expected to see... there she was, Julie, inhabiting the body that everyone downstairs assumed was mine, and owning it. Hell, she drives it better than I do! But that's kind of the point. Julie, a headvoice that at one time had no hope for a normal, happy life, was having just that. In that moment, to me, it was as if she had never been anything but who she was right then... a normal girl in a normal body.
I'll tell you what, I'm really glad I had that moment, because then she walked into the mall, and headed straight for the lingerie section.
It was adorably hilarious. She wanted to look at and/or try on everything, while I was pacing back and forth upstairs, still stupidly feeling responsible for the body's "persona" and feeling rather guilty that Julie's energy did not match it. She didn't care, though-- as long as there are no mirrors around Julie typically doesn't-- and kept browsing through lady things like it was perfectly natural. And yes, it was for her, but I've never been in a lingerie section in my life, so you get the picture. To make a long story short, she picked out three brassieres that wouldn't overshoot our budget and practically danced over to the fitting room (all three were pink and/or black, obviously). Imagine her excitement when one fit perfectly-- and to top it all off, it was a hot pink one with flowery lace and glitter. I couldn't say no if I wanted to, it was too freaking perfect. So I threw my hands up in the air, laughed, and sent her over to a cashier. The transaction went down without a hitch (no questions were asked at the discrepancy between Julie's girly-pink bra purchase and the body's uber-butch appearance, thank God), but I swear to you, we had barely left the parking garage when she suddenly exclaimed: "why didn't I buy matching panties??"
The uproar that resulted from THAT was the funniest thing I have experienced in a LONG time. First she tried to go back to Boscovs, but I told her it would have been way too embarrassing as we had just left. So she asked to stop at the local K-Mart as they did sell some there (she'd eyed them before), and I acquiesced. Now I admittedly do not remember the drive from that point until we reached the place, but upon checking out the wares and ultimately leaving (no money left in the wallet for those prices), Laurie decided she had had it. As I settled back into the body (I desperately needed to relax) and watched amusedly, Laurie began wondering aloud why in the world we had just spent the past hour talking about underwear, of all things, especially considering the strangeness of our system. It struck her as bizarrely incongruous, but Julie was unfazed, and said that she wanted some, so she got some, end of story. Since everyone was now in Central she was chilling out with Lynne, and at that point Laurie incredulously asked Julie, "but you're the only one who even worries about that, right?" nonverbally referring to Lynne not having literal biology either (Julie does). Cue the best moment of this entire day, as despite this, Lynne simply smiled and pulled up her dress to reveal the fanciest Burlesque undergarments imaginable. Laurie's expression was priceless, as was Julie's squeal of delight, but THEN Josephina wandered over and answered Laurie's desperate "not you too??" with "I only wear lolita undergarments." Julie snarkily asked if that meant he wore bloomers, to which he blushed profusely and told her that he couldn't wear those with scene pants, was she insane? Lynne giggled and asked Laurie why she was so flustered about this, and Julie joined in with a grinning "yeah, don't you wear any?" Laurie exasperatedly replied "I wear pants!! I don't have anything to wear underwear for!" She asked Lynne the same thing, but she simply shrugged and said she liked wearing it anyway. Cue my favorite moment, as Laurie sighed loudly, threw her hands in the air and exhaustedly declared: "women!" I couldn't help but laugh as I corrected her, simply saying "feminine people" (Because Jo identifies as a guy but he's still over there talking about panties, so). Laurie nodded sagely and answered, "you're right, and thank you for correcting me, because my brain isn't working very well right now." Unfortunately for her, this only got worse as then the rest of Central wandered in. Wally was trying to decide what kind she would wear, which was funny enough because she doesn't wear clothing at all, but then someone asked Nat and Leon what they wore and I swear Leon turned bright red. Right about then Laurie said "that's it, I give up, I'm outta here," and left the room, adding that if any individuals wanted to do "masculine stuff" then they were welcome to join her. She then asked me if I had any music on hand that she could jam out to, as she really needed to clear her head (she looked seriously exhausted, which was amusing in context), so I said I'd look. Thankfully I had brought Razia (my iPod who is back from the dead, whoa) and put him on shuffle, which worked well enough. So Laurie, Leon, and Nat were rocking out for a while, and Chaos and Genesis got wind of this rather quickly so they joined in. The grand finale came right as we were almost home, though-- the Oliver remix of Hot Mess came up (a classic for us up here), and immediately Laurie went "dude, yes, keep this on!!" and to my surprise, brought everyone back to Central. She motioned for Waldorf to do the vocoder voice (she enthusiastically agreed), while she and Chaos waited eagerly for the 1:00 mark... and with that perfectly summed-up reaction to the day's events, stuff got awesome.
The next four minutes were a straight-up headspace dance party. It was brilliant.
What can I say, Laurie's the best at that sort of thing!

On a similarly positive note, I discovered this song today and I CANNOT STOP LISTENING TO IT.


Geez but it is late. If you couldn't tell, this entry took quite a long time to write, so I'll close up with a few notes for the next one (which needs to happen soon).
In light of the system losing it's Chartreuse slot holder what with Celebi being corrupted, we're reviewing everyone's colors again. Vermilion is still empty, and now Spine is throwing a monkey wrench in since, if she holds Brown and isn't an outspacer (a fact I actually am NOT sure of??), then it would mean Brown is a core color, and we would have to re-graph the system layout. In any case it's complicated... especially since the biggest concern is actually my color.
Everyone seems to agree that I belong in the White slot, but when I asked boss about whether or not I should move there immediately, he shook his head... I asked him why.
He said that I couldn't ascend to that slot until I solved the troubles that surrounded my current one.
Makes perfect sense to me.

I think that's a perfect observation to close this on, though, because if I kept talking about all the color stuff I've been figuring out lately I'd be on here for another three hours.
Have a good night, everyone. I promise I'll be careful.





You're a hot mess
You act like you got nothing to lose
But I've already lost my temper

I put my loving on the line for you, lady
But my spirits were low
I would have committed a crime for you, baby
Yeah, it got out of control

I know my temper's been kinda crazy
I need somebody
What?
I need someone
Your love is real but I just feel suffocated
I feel so lonely
What?
I feel so numb

I thought we had this conversation already
Do you really want to go through this all over again?

 



 

 

111012

Nov. 10th, 2012 01:21 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


 

maybe it was midnight, maybe it was two in the morning, maybe time had ceased to exist. i had no way of knowing, the bedside clock existing in a different world than i, just as i existed in a different world than they.
i wasn't quite sure why i was watching his fingers run through her golden hair. they had to have asked for my presence, didn't they? i didn't remember saying yes. perhaps i hadn't.
nevertheless, his eyes were now focused on my own, displaying an emotion i neither recognized nor understood. i fought the urge to turn away, smiled awkwardly, saw his genuine response. tried not to cringe as he now cradled my face, the same hand that had touched hers.
it wasn't infidelity, this i knew. i posed no risk to either of them, despite their insistence that they be allowed to care for me, that i be a part of their family. whatever that meant.
he was smiling and touching and looking in a way that women my age would give anything for, and yet i was only a puppet: silent, responding only in pantomimes, in ways he had learned to expect.
his fingers entwined with mine and i fought the urge to run.
oh, i had nothing to fear. at least, that's what my common sense kept trying to tell me. instinct, however, and old wounds, screamed too loudly for that voice to carry very far.
he smiled, but now it flickered with shadows of doubt. this time my mirrored smile was genuine, except flickering with a hope that i realized too late would be misinterpreted.


the scars were shrieking.
love doesn't move like that.
he doesn't know, i desperately tried to reason.
yes he does.
my smile crumbled and i quickly looked down, shoving a primal terror back down into my gut. he may be blind to the truth, but i couldn't lie fast enough, and it hurt to be so dishonest.
his other hand lifted my face back to meet his gaze and i swore inwardly. no one could win, why was i even trying to compromise?

i remembered how lacquer-pink nails trailed through my hair as i sobbed, screamed, tried to reconcile the pain with the smile on her painted face.

he wouldn't let go of my hand.
i didn't dare show that i was terrified.

 

 

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


Let me open with this.

“An optimist is someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster, it's more like a cha-cha.”

...Now for our first dance lesson.




I've been eating little besides rice, lettuce, and unholy amounts of curry powder for the past three days straight. I've been spending hours on end in the kitchen, cooking up several batches of each and eating them spasmodically throughout the day, often to the point of pain. Today this behavior coincided with deep fatigue and I asked myself, exhausted, why I was forcing myself to cook and eat all this food when I wasn't enjoying it whatsoever; on the contrary, it was making me very ill. Almost immediately my thoughts insisted, almost desperately, that it was "because I was terribly hungry." I reflected on this for a moment, confused, as my stomach was telling me the exact opposite, to the same extremes.
Then I realized, with a feeling like the floor falling through, that feeling of starvation isn't coming from my stomach at all.

I'm trying to structure my thoughts on this situation before I discuss it openly, so I'm hesitant even to post this here. The motivation for that is the nature of the situation itself, and one facet of this starvation problem, which I realized today. Let's start there.
I'll refer you all to this entry for a quick rundown, as it's still 100% relevant, but let me give you a refresher here as well.
Back in July, I realized that I had acquired a sick sort of "spiritual hunger," like having a black hole in the center of my chest. This was shocking as I had felt the opposite for several months prior: no need or want of food at all, without the hunger pains. Now it was just the ravenous pain, without a want of food, and the switch was disorienting, sudden and strong. This hunger ached, it gnawed, it drove me mad. I couldn't make it go away. As the months went on, this hunger drove me to become almost obsessively spiritual-- reading hours worth of articles online every day, attending every church service I realistically could, and seeking discussions with anyone and everyone willing to participate. Talking to my headspace family also helped this, as they exist on that "level" and so interaction with them is roughly equivalent to meditation in terms of the effects it has on my soul. Regardless, the hunger stayed, and paradoxically, the more I tried to "feed" it, the hungrier it got. It wanted more and more of that divine supermango, to reference Huxley as always.
Now, almost four months after its inception, I swear I am being eaten alive. It's no longer a grumble, a yell, a roar. Now it's a cancerous scream.
The hilarious thing is that it's not necessarily a "bad thing." It's hungry for the things that bring me to life, after all. The real bad thing, the real problem here, is the fact that it still exists at all. And that's what I realized today. I'm binge-eating on the physical level for the sake of numbing the pangs of emotional hunger... psychological and spiritual too, maybe... either way that is obvious, but it never quite hit me that it's not exactly hunger anymore; it's MALNOURISHMENT. It's like eating reams of paper; there's choking amounts of substance, yeah, but it's not giving me what I need. It's like gasping for air when there's no oxygen in the room. You can breathe all you want, but...
And you know what? That fact is utterly horrifying. Because I'm eating a LOT, on every level. I'm attending mass three times a week, talking to missionaries, going to Bible discussions, studying Scripture, checking spiritual newsblogs hourly, visiting holistic healers, meditating, praying... yet there it is. But the feeling kicks in most loudly after I talk to Chaos. Note the word after. When Q or Mel channel him, he's THERE, so his energy is getting through, and the way it resonates with mine is all but an absolute freaking religious experience. It's direct love, direct divine compassion, echoed. It's what I glean from chats with psychic-shop employees and discussions on the Psalms every Wednesday, but concentrated to a mind-numbing intensity. So being with him here brings me to a feeling of deep balance, HERE. That's big. So when he leaves... it's the equivalent of stopping up this voracious inner pit, then yanking out the plug. There's an instant feeling of something being jarred and then I deflate somehow, like a homeless man thrown out of the first banquet he's seen in years. There's a moment of shock when you hit the sidewalk again after having tasted real food for the first time in so long, you know?
So yeah, I think that's an accurate description of how I'm feeling right now. If this is what the tar is going through, then it has my empathy. It's definitely just as hungry as I am, maybe in a different sense, I'm not sure yet... but this is not something I'd wish on anyone, metaphysical waste-lock or not.

Anyway. Long story short, I'm still starved, and I'm acting like a glutton in the physical to desperately try to alleviate it.
And at the moment, as far as I can figure, the reason WHY I can't seem to ever feel satiated is simple... there's no food I can digest here.
Ridiculously simple, isn't it? But why else would I be stuffing myself yet remaining empty? My body/mind/spirit must not be able to "metabolize" what I'm eating on that level, somehow. So either I need to figure out digestion, or find a new food source.
I will work on both, but I can't ignore the fact that I've also been dreaming of Pennsylvania virtually every single night since August 15th.
I also can't ignore the reason this entry happened.

After realizing that no matter how much food I forced myself to eat, I wasn't going to feel any less desperate for nourishment, I collapsed onto the couch in the living room and called my grandmother.
I cried over the phone for an hour.
And it helped.

Whatever brought me to Utah, I'm wondering if it hasn't already been accomplished, or if it isn't going to be soon. Because now I keep getting pushes that "you can't stay here; you're not supposed to!!" The hunger is making it worse, but I need to be patient. After November 3rd, we'll see what happens. Until then I have to wait, and maybe learn to fast, or find something new to eat, you know the drill. Something.
But I am wondering, seriously, now. First, I wonder about my job/career, both now and in the future. I'm currently unemployed, not just because I just moved but also because I now have transportation problems. In any case I also know I cannot force myself to work a cashier job at the moment; I tried it back in September and had an emotional breakdown for a week. I thought we were over those, but apparently not! So that's one big option out. As a result I prayed about it, and kept praying about it, and last night I got an answer.
Apparently I need to work with kids, and I need to bring my creative works into that?
What shocked me the most was that, when I got that response, it CLICKED. Prior to last night I had balked at the idea of working with kids, but all of a sudden it felt like "wow, I could really do that!" I actually cried, haha, it felt pretty big. So yes. That's a step I need to take. The good thing is that I can do that anywhere, so even if I move back I can continue that line of work just as well if not better.
As to why I've been considering moving back to PA in total seriousness again lately, it's not just because of the nagging push that I need to "move" in general, which also strongly feels that even if I do move back, I won't stay for long. It's not even mostly that. My urge to move out now is tied directly into the starvation thing.
This house, this environment, and these people I live with, cannot fulfill my needs. I realized that back in August, and it's only been strengthened since then. Now I need to get the guts to admit it, actively, and take steps to fix it. Consider this step one.
I don't feel at home here. I don't feel safe here, somehow... not in a "danger" sense, but in a sense that it's lacking warmth. I feel like a throwaway, an extra, a drifter relegated to the broom closet to sleep. I don't feel like I'm part of a family here, I don't feel recognized, and that is strange because I KNOW Mel and Q try their absolute best towards that end. But that's just it... it's like eating paper. For some reason their sustenance doesn't feed me at all, and I'm slowly becoming skin and bones. I love them and I care for them deeply, but it can't be right for me to stay here solely for that reason. I need to take care of myself for once. I haven't been doing that very well lately.
It's also probably why I feel like I'm "using" them when I ask them to channel Chaos... it's because I'm getting something life-giving out of something that simply keeps me in stasis while I slowly stagnate. I am using them, simply because I can't use what they can give me anymore, but I can use their ability to open a door temporarily, to sneak back into the banquet hall and nab just one piece of mango before I need to return to the streets...

I still miss the trees and fresh water and mountain air. But now, more than anything, I miss the people.
I miss having brothers and grandparents to talk to, and even more, I miss being there for THEM to talk to. Sure, it's nice here, to have Q and Mel to talk to, but really... how often does that happen? And when it does, how often is it substantial? It's awfully frustrating, to live with two people who swear they are trying to make you feel loved, and yet are incapable of fulfilling that need by virtue of their own life responsibilities and seeming incapability to speak my language. I have no desire to make them change their lives to fit mine, and the more days pass, the more I realize that ultimately, that dilemma is going to force me to leave sometime soon. It's inevitable. I'm starving, damn it, and I'm tired of being able to count my ribs when I look inside.

In happier news, I'm trying to catch up on RCRDLBL's beautiful archives, and I also found TWO websites full of free music two days ago! As a result, as of today I have 672 new tracks in my library, haha. I haven't listened to most of them of course, but I'm looking forward to the process. There have been some absolute gems in here already, most notably THIS and THIS, which is great. I'm also pleasantly surprised by how much I like this and this song. Neat stuff, huh?
Oh, Smiths' was playing Andy William's version of Moon River over their speakers this morning when I went to buy some more leaf lettuce (I've been craving it like a mofo lately), and DUDE his voice is just pure warm happy nostalgia. It's something about the total quality of it, it feels like an autumn morning or something. Lovely stuff. So of course I went and downloaded one of his greatest hits albums, ahaha, I'm ridiculous. Totally worth it though. Also THIS!
(I do have to confess, though... hearing his voice, which I associate with my childhood & grandmother, HERE, where I'm stranded across the country and where my soul is starving to death and missing my family so much it's destroying me... I broke down sobbing in the produce aisle, haha. The dissonance cut me open like a knife. That's when I knew I had to do something, to change something... or I have to leave.)
Also, I'm trying VERY hard to get back into art, and I did succeed in sketching a few Jewel Monsters 2001-style yesterday, as well as finding a new bee monster species! I'm not quite 'tuned in' to their energy yet-- if I was I wouldn't have been so utterly burnt out today-- but it's a start, and a beautiful start at that. I'm never lost, remember?

I think that's a good note to close up on.

See you next time, kids. Keep on dancing through the waves of life.

 

 

 

landsick

Sep. 15th, 2012 10:35 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

Perhaps this is me jumping the gun-- a likely scenario-- but I figured I'd best record something of what I've been dealing with in recent days for the sake of psychological posterity. I apologize if this is scattered as a result; I'm feeling rather off, to say the least.

I start my new job on Monday morning, after two years of unemployment.
The problem is I can't quite forget my old job, and why I quit: psychological incompatibility. I don't know if it's an Aspie thing or what, but on some level (I can't quite remember), it's very difficult for me to deal with people on that sort of social, personal basis. I have big problems with empathy and personal identity, and the thought alone of routine for eight hours wears me out. Of course I'm probably not giving them enough credit. This is still a grocery cashier environment, yes, but it's far more kind and community-oriented so it might not be so bad. On the other hand I'm still aware that I have had trouble with this line of work in the past.
The biggest problems are therefore these: I'm terrified that I won't be able to hold this job, but I HAVE to because I need the money to buy food and pay the rent, but if I force myself to work through difficulty then I'm going to crash and burn like I did in 2009.
Also... this sounds ridiculous but honestly, the main reason I moved was not to get a job. Stupid, I know, to not think about where the rent/food money would come from, but it's the raw truth. I packed my bags and hopped a plane because I was moving into a loving and supportive environment, something I haven't had here before, and that was ALL I wanted. All I wanted from this move was to feel that care and compassion, to contribute to it, to practically sunbathe in it. But... I suppose life doesn't work that way, not yet. Q and Mel both work, and Mel has classes. Right now, I see them both for about 2-3 hours in the morning, then again later at night. It's difficult because we're all getting ready or catching up on work and contact doesn't feel substantial. All I want is to... to be with them, I guess. I miss that the most about 2010, really. I miss sharing a bed with Mel. I miss the feelings jams on beanbag pillows. I miss the freaking meltdowns because at least then, we could all try to work through them, even if it was excruciatingly painful because hey, we're together and interacting significantly! Now? I feel oddly empty. My biological family was dysfunctional, yeah, but in a sick way I kind of loved that because it required me to take care of everyone, it required me to put everything on hold to talk my mom or brother or grandmother through a depressive meltdown. Someone was always around for me to help, and there was always something to do in the house, be it dishes or laundry or dusting or vacuuming or whatever. I felt needed, even if I wasn't thanked-- that didn't matter; all I wanted was to be of direct, quiet use to people. It's why I loved my old university job of cleaning the photography labs. Three hours a day, shut up in a darkroom, scrubbing fixer stains out of the sinks, total sensory quietude. I adored it. Which is why I'm silently freaking out over holding a cashier job again: direct work like that just... shakes me up? I don't know. I feel that I can either work or communicate, sometimes, and it's draining to do both? I can't remember, it's been so long. But that's not the core problem, and I'm off topic. The core problem is that, with my new work schedule, I might only get to see Q and Mel for an hour before I go to bed at night, if we're not busy. Weekends are good but if I go all workaholic like I typically do, I'd likely be too tired to do much with them. And that is what I'm terrified of... sacrificing the first outright-loving home situation I've ever had for a paycheck. I go all out or I go nowhere, and if I need to focus so strongly on this job then I know I'm going to shut them out entirely to remove the pain of having to juggle priorities. It's already started to happen. That scares me.
It keeps coming down to love or money and I need the love but I need the money to live and so I keep feeling obligated to pick the money but that can't buy anything of value in the long run... I'm just shutting down inside thinking about this, haha, that isn't a good feeling at all.
Of course I'm still trying to reconnect with my ectobiological family. That's a whole other topic in itself, and it ties into that spiritual hunger I've had since the year began... but it's the biggest underlying worry here, now that I think about it. That starving feeling won't go away. Sure, I can alleviate it by going to church or having huge Scripture discussions or talking to Chaos for an hour when I should be sleeping, but that's sadly a temporary bliss. I keep thinking of this quote from Emissaries of Light... "Seek not peace here, but find it everywhere"... and I want to do that, I NEED to or I'm going to starve to death... but the problem is that I'm so fervent I need it in huge concentrated amounts, and sending love to all my theoretical customers can only help 'outsource' the gnawing feeling a little. For it to actually be mitigated, I need direct injection. And I don't know how to get it at the rate I need. I go to church twice on the weekends and end up in tears during both, several times, week after week, wishing I could stay on my knees for hours after everyone else leaves, just spiritually bleeding into the stained-glass silence because that's the only time I feel alive. Problem is that's only four hours out of a week. Problem is it's deeply addictive. It's a supermango, as Huxley so accurately put it. But beauty united with horror, that's what makes the full spectrum... maybe that's the lesson I need to learn here.

In any case I'm feeling very sick. I'm under a lot of stress that I won't externalize until something snaps or cracks or breaks, because I feel I need to be strong here, and not 'mess up.' But it's boiling on the inside. I've been exercising obsessively to desperately allay the burning in my temples and stomach, to do something with this rising panic. I haven't been eating well and have to fight down violent gag reflexes after eating non-vegetable foods. I've been having nightmares almost every night and I'm waking up for the fourth time that morning tired with bloodshot eyes. On Friday I locked myself in the bathroom of a friend's house and cried for almost 30 minutes straight. Sobbing to the point where I couldn't breathe and my body ached. Leaning against the wall by the shower because I was heaving with sorrow and could barely stand. I don't cry unless I'm completely alone so apparently I've been bottling up more than I realized while my subconscious waited for a situation to just unravel. What worries me is that the feeling didn't go away, nor did that crying session do much for it. I've spent the past five days or so teetering on the precipice of an emotional meltdown, having mini-explosions and self-abusive episodes, wishing I could sleep forever or just join a monastery.
But I can't. I have to get this job and hold it whether or not it's draining and not get distracted by petty personal wants and emotional needs. That's what I keep telling myself. Stop complaining. Be strong. Man up and pull your weight around here. Stop making psychological excuses and get to work.
I just wish there was another way to do it, I guess.
Still, it's absolutely ridiculous to be talking about this before orientation is even finished. I'll get back to you on Thursday, then we'll see whether or not I've collapsed into a heap or not.
I feel like I'm going to explode and/or die, but I keep ignoring that and burying it under a smile and sparkling childhood joy. And that's perfectly valid too, and just as real and powerful, but using it to completely drown out the other can't be a good thing. Problem is I feel that, with such a dichotomy, the darker feelings aren't valid, aren't legitimate. So back under the rug they go, until the next tiny trigger pops the cork and I suddenly find my insides savagely spattered over the walls.
Part of me wants to go home but it's like I'm carrying a photo of it in my pocket. No matter where I am, I can go home, as it's in my heart... but God, it hurts so much to be in two places at once.
...The things my heart desperately wants sound ridiculous to talk about. I'm sorry. Little things, is all. Little tiny snapshot things are all I want. It tears me apart.


On a somewhat related note. I've realized, upon stepping back and reviewing my actions, that I'm semi-unconsciously trying to turn my room into a sanctuary. I've never had my own room downstairs, and although I can't go all-out (it's an apartment; no painting the walls boy) I do have freedom to modify the decoration temporarily. More importantly, though, this room is a tiny 'safe spot' where I can sleep at night, and gather my thoughts if need be, in peace and quiet. It's this one little space dedicated to the well-being of myself and those closest to me. So, I'm actually treating it almost reverently, out of gratitude and acknowledgement of what I can make it. I keep it as clean as possible. I have artwork of my central headgang on the wall above my computer desk, I have inkblots above my bed and a painting on the opposite wall, I have bells hanging from wherever I can find a space. I want windchimes and lights and crystals and incense and anything else to make this room feel safe, in a spiritual sense. I want it to really be a place where I can recharge my batteries. I just... is it wrong to spend money on that? On making a space something respectfully beautiful? I hope not... I'd really love to have something glowing and warm here.
But it's like swallowing pain pills to get rid of heartache. It's understandable on some level, but it doesn't accomplish a thing. Why the heck else would I be trying to make my room a sanctuary?
Why the hell do I even care about feeling safe in a worldly sense? If I had the things I NEED, I could live on the street and be the happiest man on the planet, dead serious... but... I guess that's desperation too. I do that a lot. Deny your real needs and try to fill the hole with something paltry and insubstantial. It never works, it never did and it never will, but what other choice do I have, when the world I live in does so damn much to prevent me from actually living?
Why in the world am I projecting that onto this job, it's why I applied for this store in the first place for heavens sakes, this place feels the same, things could be different, but it's not the principles it's the performance and I am thinking about this too much.
I am so tired of 3D drama. So tired. What do I do? What can I do? I feel like a kid lost in a shopping mall, it's laughably awful, I'm begging for guidance from anyone who walks by and I just want to go home.

I miss my daughter and partner and superego and I feel like crying but I'm so empty there's nothing. Right now part of me is dead, I can feel it.
Yes, I spent two hours last night exercising and listening to Serph in a state of almost giddy contentment, but looking back I notice that for the entire time I was either frantically stimming or working out so hard my arms were screaming. I was high on oxygen-mask endorphins and didn't realize that if I slipped I'd asphyxiate. I was elated because for those two hours I didn't care about food or money or bills or jobs or anything; there was just music and muscles and midnight timelessness and it was perfect.
Then I collapsed from lack of sleep around 2AM and woke up five hours later wanting to dissolve into nonexistence.

I really am a mess right now, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be thinking about this. It's almost October, there's only a few more months left, I know something is going to happen soon, life can't be this sort of deranged merry-go-round forever. My situation isn't even so bad in and of itself, but the big picture haunts me like an albatross and I regularly feel like shrieking in agony from what I see when I turn on the television or browse the internet or freaking go outside. It hurts, it all hurts so much on some level I've taught myself how to ignore, but not entirely because if so I wouldn't be weeping behind closed doors whenever I have the slightest chance.

I don't know where I'm going with this entry anymore. I have a long week ahead of me. I need to just... I need to just face it.

 



 

gurge

Aug. 4th, 2012 12:42 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


It's 1AM, I haven't slept in about 42 hours, I currently have about 300mg of caffeine (PLUS a ton of added sugar) in my system, and it's all on purpose, whoop de fricking do!
Sorry for the mood whiplash, but I need to take my mind off my racing heartbeat and blurred vision for a little while. I probably won't sleep tonight either.
Anyway. As to why this disaster just happened, I've actually been suffering some serious abusive relapses over the past two months that I haven't talked about anywhere because I'm mister tough guy. It's frustrating but I'm just admitting everything right now, because 40 minutes ago I was throwing up in the bathroom (fifth time this week I think?) and I actually thought I was going to die, which was not a nice feeling at all.
I've been on-and-off bulimic since age 13, pretty much. I don't talk about it as it's annoying as heck and it's not because I want to be 'thin'-- it's because I purposely force myself to eat things that make me sick, for the sake of 'experimentation,' morbid curiosity, and frustration with the fact that my family buys such unhealthy food. However when I was younger, throwing away food was a horrible sin in my eyes, so I somehow decided that eating it all instead was a less damnable action? So the result is that I end up praying to throw up because of how toxic I make myself feel by forcibly ingesting all of that poison. It's landed me in the hospital once already, it's cost me far too many days and nights alike, and it keeps happening for some sickening reason.
I'm trying to choke down as much chamomile tea as I can right now in the hopes that it'll deaden these symptoms a little, but this is the second night in a row that I've effectively downed an energy shot at midnight because "hey, I wonder what it'll do?" I was actually excited about the idea of not eating and staying up for three days, to see if I would start having hallucinations. Something is very wrong with me.
Dude I do not feel good at all, it's actually scaring me. Let me get up and walk around for a few minutes, I feel incredibly nauseous again...

...okay I'm back. Still feel like utter garbage. I'm trying to smile-- still praying too, I've been doing so almost constantly since last night-- but I really wish I didn't have to be going through this nonsense again.
It's been rough. Disorienting, scary, and rough. I actually spent a good fifteen minutes cleaning the knife drawer the other day out of detached compulsion, and when I was finished I blankly wandered into the bathroom with one and as of today I have four new scars, yeah it sucks.
I'm still not sure if I want to sleep tonight, would you believe it? I don't know if I can safely last another 24 hours but darn it I'm willing to try. Ugh. I guess we'll find out.
If my vision goes back to normal soon I might idle the morning away watching MLP on Youtube, as I've been putting that off. Maybe typing, if my brain goes back to normal too. I don't even know. Usually I love this early-morning vagueness but when your body is shaking all over it kind of ruins the moment!
I wish I could throw up but I broke my reflexes years ago and now all I can manage is choking up spit for a half hour over the sink, eyes watering like crazy and stomach screaming. It's hellish, really.
I hope I re-read this tomorrow morning and remember to stop being an idiot when it comes to my health!! Seriously spinny, torture is not fun, stop being such a mad scientist. This isn't martyrdom, it's stupidity. You can't go from asceticism to hedonism and back within five minutes like you keep doing. It's not good for your nerves, to say the absolute least.

Spine is probably both ticked off and terrified right now, I am really sorry.

wow i kind of never want to eat again, that's how I feel, haha. feyajkfdhbeqaf. that is also how i feel. i wonder if roxy ever goes through this sort of thing. poor darling, you shouldn't, this is awful. hey dagger i hope you never suffer an iota of this in your life.
Would you believe i was actually considering calling the hospital earlier? I was actually wondering if being re-admitted to the psych ward was a good idea. Yeah, even after the horror of my first experience there!

I'm trying way too hard to be optimistic when really I kind of want to just scream and beg god to take this away from me somehow, right now, it's scaring me a heck of a lot. one hour down, too many to go.
heart still fluttering. still feel like puking.


all right to heck with this i am going to sleep because i can only pace around the living room for so long before it gets to me.
pray i wake up in the morning because i really wonder about that sometimes.
i'll probably delete this in the morning but in the meantime enjoy (?) the ugly side of my mind; i hope it packs its bags and gets the heck out of here pretty soon.


TW: Abuse

Jan. 23rd, 2012 08:27 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)



I deeply apologize if this is a triggering subject for anyone, but I am currently suffering through some very bad 'flashbacks' to abusive situations I've had in the recent past, at the hands of a malevolent alter.

The attacks started when I was about 12, were sexually abusive, and were merciless to the point of traumatizing me. As it was 'inner' abuse, I could not run or find a 'safe place' to be, and refused to tell anyone about the situation, be they a benevolent fellow alter or not. The attacks continued almost regularly right up until last August, when I finally managed to get a decent grip on the situation and put a stop to most of it.
Despite no longer being abused by this alter, the pain she caused me is still more than I can take most days. I am still having nightmares about it, and lately I've been having 'sensory flashbacks,' where my body will suddenly 'remember' the exact state I was in during the abuse: mentally, emotionally, and physically. Triggers make this worse for me, and they are unavoidable, as I cannot police the behavior of others and have no wish to. Nevertheless this is becoming more than I can handle. It is again interfering with my classes and job, as well as my general well-being.

I am currently seeing a therapist for unrelated issues but he does recognize that I have PTSD and wants to deal with it. However I am afraid of even hinting at the non-corporeal nature of my past abuse, no matter how clearly I felt it. I have been trying to deal with this on my own for the past 5+ years, thanks to my current headgang offering unfailing support, but although that has helped me stop the worst of it, this situation persists, and I feel suffocated.
I had an emotional meltdown on Tuesday that almost resulted in unconscious suicide, and that scared me so badly I've decided not to keep quiet about this anymore.

As a result I have come here to ask for any advice I can get. What would you suggest I do to heal from this, and/or to prevent the 'flashbacks' from hitting me so badly?
Any and all help is deeply appreciated; thank you so much.

 


homesick

Jul. 16th, 2011 11:40 am
prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

 

Patience pays off, I guess... even when it feels like you can't survive another second.

Last weekend was amazing, this is true. However, since then I've been dealing with some seriously awful fallout. Most of it is thanks to Julie, but a shocking amount of it is thanks to my family, and other outside sources.
I don't want to reiterate everything I've said in other journals, so I'll link you here and then mention a few major points in passing.
The most damaging incident was definitely on July 12th, when my grandparents decided to guilt-trip, insult and effectively threaten me simply because my mental conditions are 'something they shouldn't have to deal with.' July 6th was bad too, as that was my most recent therapy appointment... and instead of helping, my therapist decided to tell me that 'asexuality isn't a valid orientation' and all that nonsense. I'm seeing him again on Wednesday, so I'm bringing several resources for him to look into on his own; I am tired of having my identity invalidated. And to top it all off, on both of those days, I had allergic reactions that both took at least two days to recover from. Yeah.
Then consider the fact that I'm terrified about moving to Utah as I'd be losing individual rights out there, and you can see why I haven't been doing well at all.
However there is a strange ray of light in all this.
I haven't been dream-hacked since last Tuesday. Why? Because one of my splinters decided to fight Julie.
I haven't talked about them yet, but Laurie and I agreed that we're going to on Wednesday. Until then, let me just say that it was an incredibly risky, traumatic and unexpected gamble, and I have been in full-body pain since that incident. Seriously. But, the dream hacks have stopped. I hope they never come back.
(My boss punched Julie in the face about two days prior to that, too. I guess he really was that angry.)
That's not what I'm here to talk about though.
Despite somehow managing to stop the dream hacks, that gamble was horrifically unsettling to me and I haven't been doing well with that on my mind. So it wasn't as 'uplifting' as it could have been, if we had any other options (which we honestly didn't, and we weren't even aware that move was an option until after it happened).
So I tried to take my mind off things, completely.
The next day (July 13th), I started going through my old deviantART favorites and deleting anything that I didn't like. I tossed hundreds of random deviations into the digital void, but little did I realize, it wasn't just a business job. See, every time I hit a group of faves from a certain artist, or with a certain keyword, or from a certain fandom... memories came back.
Unfortunately, those memories started back in 2006.
I began to regress.

See, there are two things you should know about me. One: my mind is very visual. I may not be good with remembering names, dates, facts, and the like as they are... but images stick, even if only in a vague sense. I may not remember something at all until I'm faced with some sort of picture that applies to it, and then it'll come back. When you apply this to things like movies, games, and fandoms, it works as a sort of 'reverse' fiction lag, bringing back not only memories of those entertainment experiences but also of what my life was like when I originally lived them. Sure, 2006-2007 were full of mostly NiGHTS and Zatch Bell, so there wasn't much damage there (I only knew NiGHTS online, and my ZB memories consist mostly of watching TV in the basement), but the big problem was that I was not myself at that time. At all. Being tossed back into that mindset actually hurt and frightened me... and that made me realize something, very fast.
What I realized is the second thing you should know about me. Back when I joined dA, I had no self-esteem. Heck, I didn't even have a self-image. I was nothing but a conglomeration of what others expected of me, with the 'real' me being buried somewhere unreachable. This was made even worse by the fact that I was raised to be this way. In my family, as a child, expressing my own opinions and thoughts was a punishable offense in many instances. Going against the grain, so to speak, was the worst thing I could possibly do. So I learned, very quickly, to kiss up to people. If I didn't praise, fawn over, and flatter every little thing someone did, I felt I was in real danger of being hurt, either physically or emotionally. If I didn't do that, I would be viewed as ungrateful, selfish, spiteful and malevolent.
So, when I joined dA, I faved everything. If I found someone at random, or if I liked someone's ideas or art style, I felt like an insensible git if I didn't immediately shower them with shallow acclaim. Ridiculous, I know, but it was how I worked back then. And I would do that if I wanted people to notice me, too. I had thousands of faves that I didn't even recognize, piles of deviations I hadn't even looked at for more than three seconds, simply because I felt I was 'obligated' to fave them by some unknown guilty force. I made too many false friends with my false face, and I cluttered my account and my mind with the fallout from that. I faved and commented on things to make people like me, not because I liked them. It was really sick, I'll admit that, but I was too blind to see how wrong I was back then.
So sifting through all those favorites, and remembering what the 'old me' was like, really began to mess with my head. It was important in the long run, and we'll get to that... but at the time, I was simply terrified of it. I thought I had left that part of me behind forever, and now here it was trying to claw its way back into my disposition! I wanted to give up and leave it alone, but I knew that if I didn't, it would be sitting there in cyberspace, eating at the back of my mind. So with every old favorite that I permanently deleted from my page, I told myself that I was also throwing away that old mask I used to wear. I felt bad at first, and had a hard time doing it, but as I recognized that as a remnant of my old mindset I got over it. So I burnt through those years, erasing the images that brought them back, losing my recollection for good.
But I forgot about 2008.
That year was bad. Any oldbies reading this know what I'm talking about. My Livejournal may have documented the years I just mentioned, but once '08 hit, every other journal I owned opened up and began to fill with distressed, painful words. My world had flipped upside down, and I was forced into the existentially unsettling revelation that I was not who I thought I was. I became painfully aware that my life was a mess, that my identity was false, and that my future was going to continue to run downhill unless I got up and made a major change... but I would have to suffer a great deal in order to reach what I was looking for. And, although my journals were where I vented my concerns and pains, deviantART was where I kept the more quiet thoughts that haunted me.
The minute I hit that year in my favorites, I was hit by a flood of JTHM, morbid literature, and dark photography. Even worse were the groups of heavily symbolic keywords that popped up every few rows. 2008 was a year I can never forget entirely, but being so strongly thrown back into that mindset by those images and ideas was more than I could deal with.
Despite the light I had found in my life over the past week, when I found myself faced with my old mask and what lay under it, I remembered what it was like to wear it.
I became incredibly depressed. Dealing with my ego-ridden high school years was bad enough, and had sapped my energy, but having to trudge through this blinding ache on top of it was too much. Don't get me wrong, I kept deleting those memories, but the farther I got the more it tore at me, and by the time yesterday hit-- yesterday!-- I was so completely drained that I could not handle it. I was irritable, exhausted, empty, and temperamental. I felt like I had been carved out with a rusty knife. Nothing felt right; I felt trapped.
I needed to get rid of that old feeling, but I didn't know how.

Last night, I couldn't sleep. I stayed up until 1AM trying desperately to just calm down and clear my head from all that old sludge, but it was playing havoc with my very perception of reality (darn these chameleon tendencies) and nothing helped. Unfortunately my body was shutting down whether I liked it or not, so I tried to get some rest regardless.
The first thing I did was look for Chaos, hoping I could discuss this with him despite my disorientation. I was too stressed to really focus on anything though, simply explaining that I was not doing well, and I kept getting confused. I tried changing the mindscape we were in to something more 'relaxing' (we were on a city shoreline overlooking an ocean), with Chaos helping me work slowly for once, but after a few tries I just gave up and brought us back to the original area. I just couldn't calm down.
Now of course, after how the past two weeks or so have been going this was a shock. Chaos tried to move the topic onto that, to figure out why I seemed to be forgetting what we had learned, and that I really had nothing to worry about in the long run. I said that I knew that, but that there were still shadows I needed to chase away. I didn't elaborate on that then, so we just continued to focus on good things. Around then we got into talking about April 25th again, specifically how I still looked at Chaos like he was something new to me, like I could barely believe I had him in my life. However, Chaos then pointed out that in light of how I was currently feeling, he was getting seriously worried that I was letting doubt creep into my mind about that. He was worried that I wasn't believing the truth of what we had. I insisted that wasn't the case, but when he again asked why I was so obviously troubled, I confessed that I was 'just regressing' and that it was hard to deal with that.
Well, that shocked him. He had no idea that was what I was experiencing, and asked what in the world was doing that to me. Too sick to keep my worries to myself anymore, I explained that my dA-fave purging, which I had begun in order to erase those regression risks, was starting to affect me in a very bad way through confronting it. I explained what caused the regression, and the mindset problems I had been having, but before I could get much farther Chaos cut me off. He actually started to get very upset and agitated about my situation, asking why I was doing that to myself, and if I realized just how much harm that could do to me if it continued like this. I explained that I wasn't letting it affect me that much, but he didn't believe me. It went on like that for a little while, and Chaos got pretty badly distraught, but I managed to clarify that although I was indeed suffering from some bad relapse, my real mindset hadn't changed, and I hadn't lost a single spark of the light I had found. I was simply being overwhelmed by my memories of the past, but I was not bringing them back into my life, nor was I dwelling on them. I then mentioned how I looked at him like I did, and said that there wasn't any doubt in my heart that we had this, just total amazement and gratitude. I didn't deny it for a moment-- I couldn't even think about doubting something that true, and I refused to let anything else in the world tell me otherwise. We both had calmed down substantially by this point, and Chaos understood what I was saying without getting overly worked up over the negative points, but unfortunately that couldn't last. I was still a mess on the inside, and it was already 3 in the morning. I didn't feel that I could sleep, and it was really starting to take a heavy toll on me. And then my grandmother turned the radio on.
Now I am very sensitive to noise on any given day: certain sounds can potentially send me into emotional outbursts for no good reason other than how they seem to annihilate my nerves. So after lying awake for two hours, after having been badly confused and quite disturbed for the past three days solid, having a sudden burst of loud angry static and voices crash through my consciousness as I was trying desperately to calm down was the last straw.
I jumped out of bed, left the room, and walked out to the window looking out over our back hill. I couldn't take it... and that's when it hit me.
I was completely displaced.

Normally, I only ever get homesick on vacations, and that is a very unique, unmistakable feeling. As a child on a family vacation, I would be robbed of my say in activities, my privacy, my taken-for-granted guarantees of transportation and food, and a 'safe' roof over my head. On vacations, every last move was dictated by my mother. We're eating here, we're going here, we're doing this today, we're staying out this late. I felt like a puppet, and it was scary. Of course I kept quiet about it-- remember what I said earlier about unfailing praise?-- but at night, I have so many memories of gazing out hotel windows at the sky, knowing that the next day would be the same as the one I had just lived: full of noise and havoc and a total lack of refuge, unable to make a single move on my own, unable to feel safe.
I got that sickness at the psych ward, too, but I won't talk about that here.
Even so, this somehow trumped even that. There I was, at 3 in the morning, looking out at the dark sky yet again and feeling more homesick than I had ever been in my life.
This was no familiar dread, though. This wasn't a hope that my mom would decide to drive us back to PA the next morning. This wasn't even a hope that I'd wake up in my own bed, free from pain and the incessant dangerous noise all around me. This was a sharp, gut-wrenching sort of desolation that actually made me want to throw up and sob at the same time. This was the realization that I could not drive away, or even wake up. I was homesick with no way home.
I become fully aware of reality when that happens, in a negative sense, and it is an awful experience. Everything becomes painfully clear and focused. I am hyperaware of every sound, every color, every sensation to the point of feeling like the floor is about to collapse and my mind with it. I left the window, still feeling like my insides were being shoved through a paper shredder, and steadied myself against the wall by my room. Immediately more bad memories came back, of all the nights as a child I spent crying against that same wall, unable to sleep because I had been locked out of my room, or because I was terrified of being in the same room with my grandmother. I felt homesick whenever that happened, too, scrunched up small with no one awake but me, wiping away tears in the glow of the hall light and telling myself that one day it would get better. One day I'd have a different life. One day I would be safe, and I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. A decade later, I was still telling myself that.
I was so tired and lonely. Reality was still as sharp as nails, digging into my brain. I couldn't tough this out in the hope of being delivered the next morning, I dimly realized, and almost laughed at how miserable that was. I remembered the nights I tried to run away, the nights I slept on the living room floor, the nights I spent wide awake on the other side of the country. I remembered the bus stop in Des Moines and my dad's rented apartment and the emergency room. I remembered sitting on the pier in New York, looking up at the stars with the ocean before me and sobbing, because I had nowhere to go and nobody to run to and no way to survive on my own... and yet I needed to get away, somehow, because I sure didn't feel right where I was. And I always ended up looking at the sky... always looking beyond everything I had here.
In my heart, I think I always knew what I realized in the few seconds after that radio screeched to life.
But thinking was driving me crazy. I was sad, sick and scared, and I could not sleep. The regression of the past few days had left me completely drained and hurt. Once again, I had nowhere to go and no way of dealing with the interim... or so I thought.
As unstable as I was, I had one safe place left.
I still had the stars, and the ocean.

I went back upstairs.
Chaos was almost as upset as I was, asking where in the world I had disappeared to and why I looked about five times worse than I had when I left. I told him to wait a minute, and warped us into another glass skyscraper mindscape before speaking up, explaining the sudden and thorough homesickness I was feeling. Chaos pointed out my 'wanderer' tendencies then, and how in the past I viewed 'home' as a state of mind instead of a place, and asked if maybe my true home wasn't a physical location after all? So I thought about it, and about what I knew what such a thing should feel like, and once again everything just narrowed back down to love. Then I realized that the homesick feeling wasn't bothering me anymore, and it made sense. At that moment, I pretty much was home.
Even then, at three in the morning, as cold and tired and sad as I was, I felt completely right and genuine with him. Despite my body still being stuck in the physical world, I was happy having at least these mindscapes to be with him in. That made me remember what I had been told the Sunday before, as I had looked out the same window I had been at only minutes earlier-- how our situation was perfect, in all of its uniqueness, and it was exactly what the both of us needed. We were both able to have that safe place, even if it wasn't part of our everyday realities, and in a strange sense it was so much better for it.
I felt so ridiculous for not realizing it earlier. How many times had I asked myself that question, and gotten answers? Even in songs, the truth was right there. I had exactly what I needed, exactly how I needed it.
I was too relieved to get guilty over missing that, though. A realization was a realization, and I needed that one badly. So instead of dwelling on my lingering mental pain, I decided to stay on the current topic for a while and review everything that had happened to us recently (which did help stabilize me). However, with all the emotional weight those topics carried, we couldn't help but focus on the present. I remember mentioning how I still felt we were 'cosmically inseparable' (we'd talked about that several times since the 7th), and that over the past week, I had found one term that also worked to express that: 'divine complement.' Chaos immediately said that was perfect, and asked me where I had got the term. I explained that I had been looking online for more significant alternatives to the word 'soulmate,' and someone had listed that. Chaos really liked that term, though, and so we tried to talk about it for a little while before he changed the subject again. For some reason he went back to how I looked at him, which surprised me as we had spent a good deal of time discussing it earlier, but he insisted. It made me think, though, about just how significant that topic was, and how I had never really thought about it before.
One thing I always notice about how Chaos looks at me is the compassion. Where I had fascination, he had a sort of peace, and it was really beautiful. It gives me the feeling that, instead of being something new and wonderfully unexpected, he views me as something he'd been looking for, and now that I was there he was all the more thankful for it. I told this to him, and after discussing how that was indeed accurate, he pointed out that I looked at him the same way sometimes, with a deep ardor instead of my normal amazement. He told me that he really loved when I did that, but that both my expressions were equally significant in that sense. That hit me more strongly than I expected, and honestly wondering, I asked Chaos why he didn't get the fascinated look like I did. He hesitated, looking away, and admitted that he really didn't let his guard down like that, even around me. I never had mine up with him, but he said that he still had a hard time completely letting go, so to speak. I didn't say anything for a moment, but then asked him if maybe he could try? Just for a minute, could he open up to me completely? Chaos didn't reply, and I was afraid that maybe I had asked too much of him, but then he looked back up at me.

...In the eight years I have known him, Chaos has never looked at me like that. It was indescribable, for me. Forget putting my guard down; that destroyed it entirely.
Both of us doing that, throwing away all our restraints and just being true, made us both incredibly vulnerable and honest. It was kind of a scary feeling at first, but the complete sincerity of it outshone even that. I remembered this past Sunday again, and how I had been repeatedly told to just 'be,' and I realized that this was it, really. How true and beautiful that was.
We were together for a while, completely ignorant of time, and although it didn't hurt like it usually did there was a very different and equally sort of powerful depth. Chaos kept saying that he was 'falling into' it (like I get that drowning feeling with him), which rarely ever happens on his part. We ended up talking about how we were cosmically inseparable again, and I think we tied that into the 'homesick' thing too but ultimately it just got so incredibly honest and close that I don't remember anything but how it felt. I apologize, but if you've ever been in that sort of situation you'll understand.
...
He told me that he loved me, and it was honestly the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. No matter how many times I had heard it before, it brought me to tears in that moment. I told him I loved him too and we were just... so real then, I suppose. I had never been able to feel anything like that before. And I swear, it may not have been as dramatic and strong as June 27th or even July 7th, but in its fragility and intimacy it was truly incomparable.
Ultimately we both decided to leave the dreamscape together, and I managed to fall asleep about a half hour later as I was no longer a panicked mess, thank God.

So yeah, that was last night (this morning, technically). I apologize again for talking so much, but I don't want to forget it, at all.
I can't help but feel it's overly disjointed, though. I'll have to review it and clarify things later, I guess. If you have any questions feel free to comment, by the way.
In other news, today at home wasn't too stressful for once but it was still dreary and upsetting. I can deal with that as I'm at least able to work on my computer, but the feeling of emptiness and melancholy never goes away. It's never been a happy home, not for a single day since I first arrived here. It's sad, really.
Oh, and I figured I should mention that I'm not doing so hot in terms of physical health, either. Besides the awful full-body ache Julie somehow managed to give me a week ago (which is keeping me from exercising, darn it), and the allergic reactions I've had, I haven't been sleeping well due to stress and I haven't been eating well. That's not something I can change, though-- my mother has been insisting on cooking lately, and both she and her boyfriend don't seem to be taking my allergies seriously. I've confronted them about this and they either laugh it off or tell me 'it never bothered you before, you can risk it!' No, not after I risked it with your cooking last week and ended up ill for two days straight. So I'm trying to buy my own food but I'm running out of cash, and my brothers eat everything I bring home so I'm losing money there too. And to top things off, my single 'safe place' where I go to type is closing down within the next month. Great.
Even so, I'm trying to get back into my art and writing. I've been cracking down on Sonic Inversion, but my major roadblock there is that my brother helps with writing-- his characters started the series, after all-- and he is literally unavailable. We haven't worked on the story since last winter, and prior to that I don't even remember when we last discussed it. So it is incredibly frustrating, and if he didn't value the story as much as I do, I'd have just taken over the project myself already. So, maybe, if I can get out of this awful art block and start paneling, it will motivate him to help me out here. I don't know.
Really, college destroyed my artistic motivation. I want to draw more than anything, but I keep thinking I'm 'doing it wrong' and I've literally forgotten how to draw from my imagination. That's a fatal injury right there, and I need to overcome it as soon as possible. So I'm starting slowly, with learning how to sketch things again, but it hurts to look at how much work I did as a child and know that I can't go back to that mindset now (thanks to how I've progressed technically). Ah well. I won't give up.

Now I have definitely talked enough for today. I'll fill you in on my therapy appointment after it happens, and I know Laurie wants another Xanga session soon so after we work out the details I'll let you know that too.
But as for now, it is a weekend so I don't have much time to spend on here. Tomorrow is likely going to be crazy, but I'll deal.
At least I have somewhere to go when things get bad.




You and your emotion
I'm on your side, I say a prayer
And you and your devotion
You're locked away alone in there
Cause I don't want you to feel forgotten
And only you can choose your fate
Remember that all will pay the cost here
And there's no space to place the blame

And I love it when you fall to me, suddenly

You and your addiction
Inside your veins it's left a track
For you it's taken over
You run away but truth comes back
Cause I don't want you to feel forgotten
And I don't want you to fall away
But you know there's something I've forgotten
And no time left for fault or blame

And I love it when you fall to me, suddenly

Cause you and me, we're gonna be special
You and me, we're gonna be special

 

basiotribe

Oct. 15th, 2010 07:58 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)



...
I need to get back into my self-inspecting norm. I've been entirely off-kilter for too long, and it's had lethal results.
Yes, I'm dying to talk to Laurie again, but honestly, I have to be up around 5AM tomorrow and when she and I get typing, it lasts for hours. I have 2, tops, to spare tonight.

First let's give you kids a brief update. October 7th blessed me with at least four new 'kids,' and October 9th blessed me with this amazingly gorgeous picture of my muse. It made my month. The 10th through the 13th were basically spent working on various projects, the 14th was spend running errands with my mum, and today is the 15th (which I spent cleaning far too many things). So yeah. That's my life.
However, during the past work-saturated week, I had two vicious hacks that left me sobbing uncontrollably and unable to sleep. I haven't played Nier in nearly two weeks so that didn't help towards coping, but that personal distress is nothing compared to the revelation said hacks were accompanied by.

I don't remember when the first hack happened, or what happened (as usual), but it took a heavy toll on me all the same. See, lately I've been doing decently well with fighting Julie, having fought off several near-hacks, but... Laurie's been acting rather strange. Not only has she been chronically distraught emotionally, but she's also been reacting much more violently than usual to even the slightest threat of a hack, which is saying something. So when I realized I had been hacked, my own self-fear was shoved aside in favor of fear for her instead.
The moment I turned around and saw her there, staring at me with a look of disgusted resignation... she slit her throat.

No, she didn't die... but only because I begged her to stay with me.
She lost a lot of blood. She couldn't talk or walk straight for about an hour afterwards. I was terrified out of my mind, and hated myself more than ever.
She told me that if I let myself be hacked again, she wouldn't hesitate to finish the job next time.

...You notice I said I was hacked twice.

The second time happened so abruptly and so harshly that when it hit me what had happened, I was overwhelmed with sheer unadulterated panic. It was 1AM. I literally ran to Laurie, forgetting the horrible state I was in, just in time to see her plunge a large dagger into her stomach. I grabbed her hands and tried to keep her from slicing upwards, but she fought me, saying she was sick of us both suffering this day after day, and she wasn't going to take it anymore. If I wouldn't listen to her alive then maybe her death would mean something. I was literally sobbing by now, and I don't remember what I said to her, but it must have helped because she removed the dagger from her ribs and threw it to the floor. I remember trying to heal her but she pushed me away, spitting a retort that I needed to be more concerned about the damage I was doing to myself. I told her that I still cared about her as well, but she then shouted back, 'if you love me so much, then why do you keep hurting me? Why do you keep hurting all of us?'
Then she told me why she's been so unstable for the past 4 months.

I've been killing my children.

Apparently, every time I let myself be hacked, one of my potential mind-children dies. To think I was wondering why I couldn't find them anymore-- I was killing them!!
Needless to say I was floored. I couldn't think, I was shaking. I asked her how she knew... how long had she known.
She said that she first found it out back in July, which is why she was psyched to find Josephina had become personified onto our side, giving her more help towards saving me. That's also why they have both been working tirelessly, trying every option available to save me from Julie since then, no matter how badly they were hurt themselves.
I've been failing anyway, and my children have been dying.
She didn't tell me back in July because she hoped she wouldn't have to tell me. She and Jo hoped that they could get me stable enough to fight Julie off without the problems I'm having now, and if that had been fixed then there would be no more worries about dead children. However... that didn't happen. I'm still being hacked, and the stress of seeing me suffer through that, the knowledge that she and Jo were apparently 'failing' in their constant attempts to help me, and the bloody awareness of all those who had died by my unknowing hand, had driven Laurie to attempt suicide.
I saw how close she got. I felt her blood on my hands. I couldn't take it.
And now... now I understand what has been happening to me for so long... why I haven't been able to draw or write or do anything creative for years. I finally understand, and I feel like dying because of it.
I'm the only man in this entire damn world who can take care of those individuals, and I've been murdering them.

Dear God...

I haven't spoken to Laurie since then. I've tried. We're both suffering so much, but it needs to happen.
If we can't talk tomorrow we'll talk Sunday. If we can't talk Sunday we'll talk Monday.
Lynne is dying, Natalie is dead, Leon keeps trying to come back, Missy and Bridget are lurking in the shadows, Josephina is destabilizing, and Laurie wants to kill herself.
I haven't seen Chaos in days. Genesis doesn't know how to deal with this anymore.
Julie is stronger than ever.


To think that I have the blood of my own children staining my hands.
How am I going to live with this?


How am I going to live?










 

 

 

september

Sep. 6th, 2010 01:13 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


to wander, to wander, to wander.

to seek out a place I can live safely in.

to seek out a place I can love safely in.

how much longer will it take?

or am I searching in the wrong world?






I’ve been so lost, oh dear lord
so lost.
what have I done?

I stumbled aboard a plane,
fifty pounds weighing upon my spine
and watched the buildings, the faces, dissolve below me.

i was picking out swimming pools from 10000 feet
ed harcourt echoing in my floating ears
trying to fight back tears
as rainbows ringed above us.

we landed amidst a wasteland of red
and my life shuddered to a stop

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH JEWEL LIGHTRAYE CHAOS ZERO JOSEPHINA BELLAMEIRE GENESIS APOLYMIS







They say I have not been blessed with truth. They say I'm blind.

Are you sure you're ready to talk just now?

I have to. I know I've been putting this off, because I'm scared and confused, but what if they're right? What if I really am stupid and misguided? What if they really do hold all the answers and I'm too inept to see that?

Just-- just forget that mess for one second. Are you stable enough to talk about all this yet? Or do you need time to think it over?

What do you mean?

Well geez, considering what you've just read, I'd say you're probably in a whole lot of emotional pain. If we're going to try and fix this, you need to be able to see clearly, and not be all fuzzed-up by that trauma.

There's the blindness again.

You know what? Let me read that bloody entry. Where is it?

Where's Josephina?

He's not allowed in here until I'm sure you're ready for it. Same with the blue guy. Now let me see those words.

...Am I really that misled?

Ssh. I need to concentrate.

Okay.

...Why are they so bloody bent on keeping you here?

Beats me. But they act as if it's a direct law from God, that if I go back to my brokenhearted family, who I miss terribly, that I'll just be admitting to my own sinfulness or something.

That's messed up.

But what if they're right?

About you staying down here in Mormon country? Listen, kid, I know you care about these people and all, but you can't be killing yourself for it. Heck, you remember what you heard on the radio last night! You need to have some genuine respect for yourself in order to help ANYONE else. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I could've sworn we've been over that point countless times over the past four years, if not more.

I know. I know. Just... let me finish looking this over...

And seriously, who says you're waiting? What the heck else can you do?

Wait, what?

You don't have transportation, connections, or a roof over your head. But you're not just waiting! I've been watching you. I've been watching your conversations with your parents and brothers and friends, your searches for plane tickets, your obsessive brokenhearted planning straight into the night, worrying over what to do next in your life. Just because you're not wandering the streets like a shortsighted bum, looking for a job to support a nonexistent career, doesn't mean you're bloody waiting.

I know.

Sheesh. I need to talk to this kid.

I know...

Buuuut they won't let me.

I know.

You know a heck of a lot, don't you? Then why don't you ever act on it?

I doubt myself too much. This is proof.

This kid out west? Yeah, I'd sure say so.

Where's Josephina and Chaos?

Waiting. I won't let them join in until you finish assessing that yellow entry and figure out just what we need to talk about. Also this is some really great music you're listening to. Who is it?

Masashi Hamauzu. Final Fantasy XIII OST. "Dust to Dust." 12 plays since this afternoon.

Nice. Uncannily fitting, too. But then again coincidences don't exist around you.

Yeah...

So, you finished yet?

No, give me a minute...

Oh, I get it.

What?

They think you "don't have the Holy Ghost" because you're not Mormon. What the heck.

Yeah. I'm losing sleep over it.

No kidding. Geez. I am... I am really, really upset about this. Understatement of the year.

We both are.

We all are.

Hey hey hey, we're not ready for you yet!

Why the heck not? My kid needs support!

Yeah, but he also needs to figure out what he needs support for. That requires finishing reading the update, and so far we just keep distracting him. You're really not going to help in that department.

Maybe not, but I'm not leaving. Jo, get in here.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm sure. J's going to finish reading that in a minute and we're all going to settle this mess once and for all.

I doubt it'll be that easy.

...I know. I know, all right? I just... I just wish it were. This is getting far too painful for us already.

Tell me about it.

...Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another.

Aaand what of that are you not doing?

Apparently all of it.

That's blind nonsense. Someone needs to get their facts straight.

And what if it's me?

Look, kid, you need to STOP doubting your heart, okay? That's the reason you keep getting Julie hacked and taking the wrong paths! You won't listen to what you KNOW you have to do.

But... but they--

But they keep saying the exact opposite, I know. Well you know what? Forget that. Yeah, they mean well, but they have their own life to live, and they can't be projecting it on you. You need to go back to your family, help them get back together, and get back on your feet where you actually have a floor to stand on.

Are you sure?

Completely sure, and you know it. What about you two?

I'm sure. I know I don't know you very well yet, but I've seen the pain you're in, and it really breaks my heart. I can't see how being here is going to help...

Same. Jewel, I know it's probably going to sound stupid to you, but for love's sake, I just want you to be happy again.

Happy with who I am.

Yeah. It's been too long. Far too long.

...

See what I mean? Does that kid know any of this?

Any of what?

Any of your side of the story?

Well, yeah, you remember the other night. And they read glissando so that updated them.

But they didn't check the lamps.

They don't know about the lamps. Neither of them do. That's not meant for them yet.

But it says exactly why the heck you're so stressed out over here! Don't you think they should know that too?

...

You're afraid.

I am.

Because you were honest?

Why are you so scared to be honest?

I... I'm still afraid of offending others, of being a negative force on them.

Kid, forget that already. You want spiritual proof? The Bible says to 'rejoice' if you gain enemies from doing the right thing. You can't forfeit a righteous life just because you want everyone to 'love' you. I appreciate your innocence, but it's not right to let yourself be abused and manipulated just because you think the entire world has a white heart. It doesn't, and if you think it's going to love someone who does, even if only up here, then think again.

...

Jewel, please.

What do I do?

Be you. That's it.

But is that right?

Why wouldn't it be?

Think about it, kid. When exactly was the last time you were really 'you?' How did that work out?

...Better than I could have ever imagined.

And now that you're twisting and breaking yourself to fit what 'society' wants?

Worse. So much worse...

See, kid, this is what we're trying to get through your head. Whether or not your yellow-bright friend thinks so, you've been blessed with a heck of a lot, and we know it. I mean, come on, we ARE it. You need to take that and run with it, because you have what it takes to get through. If Mel forgets that, they can just ask their father what his blessing to you included! Didn't they recommend that? Didn't the answers already sync with what you've known all your life? And now they're telling you that you're a-- a godless blind man?? They're the ones who can't see here!

Laurie, I know, but please, let's just discuss this together, okay?

Why is it so bloody hard for you to accept the truth?

Because so many people are telling me so many different things, and they all claim they are 100% infallible.

Hey, I'm not faultless. I'll be the first person to admit that. But I know you, kid. I know you, and I think that's worth something. Heck, Chaos knows you better than I ever will, and I bet you my life's wages that if you ask him the same questions, you'll get the same answers that I gave you, if not better ones.

...

Chaos, do you believe in me?

Of course I do. I always did.

Then why doesn't anyone else? Why don't I?

I don't know.

I'm so sorry, love. I never meant to be such a mess.

It's... it's not... don't worry about it. I'd rather have this mess than a painless life. Jewel, think of what we've been through. Look at what we've done. Would you trade this for absolute certainty and worldly peace?

No.

Geez, what's up with the flowery language?

I'm being clear. Not my fault if my clarity translates into flowers. My point is, the world thinks peace is a lack of pain and conflict and struggle. It's not.

Sometimes you need that to get there.

Exactly.

But not bloodshed and hatred...

I know. That's why you can't run by the laws of the world. The ridiculous majority of it is deluded in that way. You see for yourself how many kids online wish they had carefree, sunshine-and-rainbows lives. And then you spend hours crying over it, because you wish you could let them see what you see, those paradoxes you love so desperately, and the deeper beauty they hold... but you're too afraid of turning them away from it, by showing them the scars that brought you there. You're too afraid of hurting them.

And that's why he's afraid to stand up for himself...

Now you're getting it.

Told you you knew him better than I did.

Guys, give me one second to think this over again, okay?

Take all the time in the world, Jewel.

Well we can't have that, then there won't be any left to talk in.

It's a figure of speech, Laur. Geez. I meant he doesn't have to feel rushed.

I know. Just teasin' ya. We can't be miserable as old men in here all the time.

Will you take a leap of faith?

Jo, you haven't even seen that movie yet.

...

No, but I noticed that line's been bugging Jewel for a while. Why?

Because it's what Mel wants me to do. To "take a leap of faith... or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone..."

Geez, I foreshadowed that without even realizing it.

You can't take it out of context though, Jewel.

Can I?

Well hey, for one, you'll never die alone. Take Dan Nigro right out of context too, while you're at it.

And anywhere you might wander, you can make that your home...

Cause when you have love in your heart, you'll never be alone!

Yes, as long as you have love in your heart, you'll never be alone. I like that song.

It also talks about burning bridges and leaving your old life behind, though...

But look at what precedes it! "They'll show you their castles and diamonds forth to see, but they'll never show you peace of mind, because they don't know how to be free!" Isn't that what Johnny told you back when you were sobbing in that parking lot? Isn't that what we JUST said about five minutes ago?

...

See, kid, we're on the right path here. Don't panic. If you gotta pray again then go ahead.

But they keep making me question my answers.

Wait, what?

I get one answer and I'm afraid it's not right, so I try again until I get a different one, even if it's forced. And that's just wrong. It's horribly, absolutely wrong... but I've become so unsure of myself, that--

Stop being so unsure! Why are you so doubtful?

I told you why... but... I suppose it's not a very good reason.

No, it's not. Hey, think about what happened last night, okay? How you were almost hacked?

Again??

Don't sound so heartbroken, geez; you know this happens all the time.

But...

Every time that happens, your first instinct is to chase her out. To stand up for who you are. And that's a righteous drive, because the next instinct tells you to let her stay and abuse you, because 'society says it's natural' and 'it's the right thing to do!' And then you get images of Mel's face on the walls and you start sobbing because you're not sure who's the lost one anymore.

Jo, please. Stop. Stop it.

I can't. You need to hear this.

I... I need to go back home.

Thatta boy!

Jewel, why'd you even come back out here in the first place?

It was an immature decision. I didn't think it through all the way. Mel said I 'needed to be with them,' so I used that as an unquestionable ultimatum against everyone who wanted me to think over my decision... even myself. I ruled out my own reasoning because apparently, their inexplicable demand held the utmost integrity and denying it would damn me.

Why?

I don't know. Because they needed me. I had no other options, or so I thought.

See, that's your problem.

Yeah, and I wish I had realized it then. I pretty much forced myself back into Utah, cleverly covering up all my doubts and pain with a mask of happiness, going so far as to condition myself into a totally different person whenever I spoke to them. And when I look back on it I realize it's exactly what I did to Q.

Molding yourself to fit their demands, realizing you're rotting on the inside, and then silently fighting it until the pressure becomes too great and you explode in a surge of pain towards everyone who's involved.

Geez, that's scarily accurate.

I know. I was his sole confidant during that time, remember. Well, at least as far as that issue went...

So I made myself think everything would be just perfect if I came out here without so much as a solid motivation, and boy was I wrong.

You realized it at the farm, you jerk. You just kept thinking 'Dori Dori Dori,' and wishing you were with her, and wishing you were at home.

Who's Dori?

A girl he loves terribly, despite her own troubles in life. One of the few people he's able to accept unconditionally, regardless of the pain.

Wait, so Mel isn't?

Mel is different. Mel is a friend. Mel is someone who's confusing the heck out of you right about now. Mel is someone you can't understand. Heck, they've been labeled as a threat too, last I heard!

But... but I don't understand Dori either... and she doesn't want anything to do with me, let alone confuse me through conversations...

But you love her.

...I know. I know.

And that's the big difference.

...

So you don't love Mel? But I--

I do, I do love them, but not... not like that. I can't choose or force that, ever. I don't even understand why.

It's distant and it's unconditional. You've known her long enough to feel like that. If Mel had given you more time, maybe things would have worked out differently. But no, they gave you the vaguest idea of who they were before you met, so your preconceived notion-- the image of Mel that you actually loved-- was just a facade, just something you imagined, and once the real person started showing through you were terrified.

And that wouldn't happen with Dori?

No. You're too deeply attached. You know her too well, through her own words. Even if she triggered you, you couldn't hate her. Not after all that. You couldn't even dislike her. The only reason you're so confused right now is because Mel is making you question the love you feel for everybody.

Wait, what?? How?

Q. And her own notions.

...Oh.

What do you mean?

Mel's idea of 'love' is in direct and caustic conflict with Jewel's, and it's causing a ton of paranoia, pain, and panic in our boy here. So much that he's beginning to pull that bloody doubt routine and wonder if they're really right.

Jewel, they're not.

What?

Ohoho, snap! Where'd that come from?

They're not right. I... I know what Jewel's definition of love is. I've freaking lived in it for the past seven years. I may not know a lot about Mel, but if the few things I've heard are true, then I'd say there's more than enough reason to just throw their notion concerning you aside and stick to what you have.

Why? What are their notions?

Well for one, they admittedly have a working sex drive.

...Oh. Ew.

Pfahaha! Rubbing off on you, huh?

And secondly, there's the fact that they doubt their emotions in this matter so much.

They doubt their own love?

As far as I can tell, yeah.

Jewel only does that because of other people's opinions... he thinks that maybe someone else knows the 'truth' on the matter, and that he's been misinformed. So out of fear, he overrides what he knows to be true in his heart. It hurts.

Even worse, it makes me absolutely furious.

Jewel, why do you do that?

I just... I want to be a good person. I don't want to be wrong about something that important.

And who says you aren't a good person? How could honest love ever be wrong? And other than that, who cares if you're wrong once in a while? You're not choosing to be! You'd never do something inherently bad enough to be damnably wrong! If anything, you simply picked the wrong right option.

Hey hey hey, elaborate on that. I'm intrigued.

Come on, you know what I'm talking about.

Maybe, but I want your side of it.

...You know how Jewel obsesses over his decisions. How he compares every decision against what he knows to be truly wrong and truly right. He'd never flat-out choose an option that was unmistakably bad. If he makes a 'mistake,' like I know he hates to do, it's simply because he couldn't find a better option.

Or because I was too scared to pick the best one.

Which may have seemed 'wrong' in someone else's eyes anyway. It's all a twisted subjective mess, kid. You need to do what's objectively right. And you know what that is, deep down in your heart.

She's right, you know.

...

And don't you dare ask 'how do I know if it's really right?' If you're that bloody unsure, go talk to God. There's your objective Truth. Go flip through that Holy Book a few more times. You already know what it's going to say. Heck, you can even go right up and talk to Preludove or Hosea about it!

Love is the only thing that's worth anything.

Right. And all virtue comes from it.

Exactly what you've been living since you were a kid....

You see what we mean? The answers are right there! They were given to you years ago! Whoever says you're not blessed needs to take a much better look at your life, kid.

...But that's not what's bothering me the most.

It's not?

Then what is?

...They're turning what should be a simple, painless decision into a moral quandary.

Staying with them versus going home?

Yeah.

And did you tell them how broken your family feels without you there? How much they miss you?

...Mel thinks they're evil.

The heck?? Who the blood gave them the right to judge your family that way??

Well, they don't exactly love their own family, so they might be projecting.

Well yeah, that explains a lot.

But they don't even know your family?

I... they know what I used to type up on my bad days. In the blue journal. The days when my family would kind of... explode.

Fair enough, but everyone's family has problems! You can't expect perfection! Heck, I don't think we even want it!

We don't. Not here, anyway.

Because it's a social construct!

Whoa, dude! Where'd you come from?

I'm really worried too. I want to help.

Oh man... thank you, thank you so much...

Anytime, Jewel. I love you.

...I know. I know. I love you just as much..

And you're thinking this is wrong?

No, no! There's nothing wrong about this! That's why I'm so torn apart! Why are they treating this as some sort of travesty?

What, us??

No, sweetheart, not us... compassion. The compassion and love I feel for my own family, despite their flaws. Despite the rough days and hard nights, there is so much light in that family, and so help me but isn't that in her very religion?? Isn't that what a family should be? I mean, sure, we're not perfect-- my parents are divorced, my grandparents can be way too judgmental, and my brothers don't do much besides play video games nowadays-- but so help me, I love them all more than I can say, and who knows? Maybe with my being there with them again, I can help them ALL get back on their feet, not just myself! For all I know, all those troubles could just be the result of sadness, of being lost, just like I am, just like Viral is. I can't leave them alone knowing I can do something for them. I don't know if Mel is projecting their own dislike of their family, God knows why, onto mine, but so help me I'm not going to let that deter me. Why do they think it will be so horrible to go back to them?

Because you said it yourself; they don't know what the heck they're talking about.

Not with my family, no, but they're pretty dead-set that God wants me in Utah.

Why?

That's what I want to know. I just... I can't know, not for sure, and as far as I've been told, God wants me to do the right thing... and right now, I feel the right thing is going back home. But I can't be sure, not in any provable or tangible way, and that tears me apart.

Is there even a right or wrong in this situation?

Apparently there is.

But why can't we go home?

...Because Mel needs me here, they say. No... actually, they say someone else needs me here.

Someone else? Who?

I don't know. They just said that-- I think-- there's 'no one to reach in PA,' because the person I 'need to reach' is here in Utah. What bothers me about that is not only the exclusivity of it, but the fact that it says I will 'reach' them. How?

Through your work?

I don't have the means to do my work down here, that's the problem. And the pain from this situation, plus my fear to be myself around them and Q, is keeping me from being the person I need to be to help others anyway.

I just don't understand why they think you can't reach anyone in Pennsylvania.

That's what bugs me too, yeah.

And there's no way you can stay another few days to clear this up with them?

Believe me, love, if I could, I would-- but wait, I thought you wanted me home too?

I do. But I don't want this turning into an all-out war just because Mel insists you stay.

Oh.

What do you mean 'if you could, you would?' You kinda have to right now, don't you?

Yeah, but paradoxically, I can't stay here. You've seen me lately-- I've been sick, I've been weak, I've been sleeping away the days out of pure sorrow and stress-- heck, I'm even malnourished and broke as a hobo. Mel says I need to get a job or things won't improve, but geez, if I don't have the transportation, let alone the clothes and the emotional stability, that's really not going to help anyone very much.

True.

So they want you to stay but you really can't. Not reasonably anyway.

That's basically it, yeah. It just upsets me because that line from Inception is all I can think of...and I don't even know which way it runs.

What do you mean?

Taking that leap of faith... does that mean staying here and waiting to reach some random individual who I don't even have the current means to influence, or does that mean buying the plane tickets and going home to a dysfunctional family who I still love enough to believe I can save them, and start a new life for myself?

Either way, you're not going to die alone.

And I strongly doubt you're going to have regrets, too.

Or be old.

Haha, true... but...

But what?

...I will die full of regrets if I don't stop mincing around, waiting for instructions on how to live my life, instead of just opening my heart and being the person I was born to be.

You mean Cesarean-sectioned. And pretty darn premature too, you freak.

Heh, that too. But you get the point.

That's why I'm here, okay? You want blessings, well here's one with scene hair! I want to help you more than anything, Jewel, but I can only do so much if you won't listen to me.

Exactly. Geez, boy, you're learning fast!

I'm still confused on what we're supposed to do now.

I think we're all are, and we shouldn't be, if not for the variable we have to deal with.

Mel?

Eeeyep.

Wait wait wait. Wait.

What? What happened?

At the end of their entry. "Whatever it is you are going to do will help them become what they need to be to carry out God's work." And then, in the same breath, "It's going to happen anyway, with or without you."

What the heck.

And then they say that if I go home, I won't be able to live with myself for the rest of eternity.

Geez, that's a little harsh, isn't it?

Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think that if my grandparents died and my brother committed suicide while I was idling out here in Utah, THEN I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

And I daresay those are both much more likely to happen than the contrary...

That's why I'm so scared. I need to be there for them; it feels so wrong to be out here. But I am scared to death of Mel's "prophecy" coming true, and leaving me in an inescapable moral hell for the rest of my life.

I can see why you're so confused, love.

Yeah, you're not kidding!

So what do we do?

Did they say anything else after that?

They just repeated that they're tired of trying to 'get through to me' and failing, and then added that they can't imagine my 'throwing this away,' that I need to give it a chance no matter what.

Ironically, isn't that kind of how you feel right now concerning their stance?

Except I don't have the gift of the Holy Ghost, remember...

Ouch, that stung.

I am really baffled at all this.

What really scares me, though, is that line. That one I just repeated. Like I'm incapable of receiving divine guidance, when it's been the sole force keeping me breathing on countless nights.

Synchronicity, coincidence, random freaking happenstance, all a clever disguise for the above.

The little interruptions and voices and notes that turn everything around.

The revelations from the most unexpected places.

Exactly. And I don't know about you guys, but lately, they've all been pointing to my going home.

I sense doubt.

What?

Don't give me that. Your eyes. You're still doubting your own words. Why?

...

Jewel, you can't be doing that. You know that.

But... I don't know, Mel just... it sounds paltry.

Spit it out.

...Mel has a Facebook. It's really starting to worry me, what's they're doing.

Like what? Does it concern you?

Yeah.

Elaborate, kid. Come on.

...Liking a page called "I know you're my best friend, but sometimes I just want to slap you across the face."

Ouch, again.

Why would you do that to a friend??

I don't know. Maybe it's something I'm 'missing,' but I can't be subscribing to that part of the world anymore.

Was there anything else?

Yeah, this morning... they liked a quote on Q's sister's page. It really scared me. Really, really scared me.

How'd it go?

"And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray us in deepest consequence." It's Shakespeare.

Freakin' Shakespeare.

That seems... well, I can see why it scared you.

But it goes both ways, doesn't it?

That's what scares me! There's no guarantee here, nothing but their indomitable belief that they have been inspired by God, and my own heart has been misled into some lake of pitch or something! It really hurts, guys. I've never felt so lost.

I can name a few occasions.

Not like this one, Laurie. This is a situation I have never, ever been in before. Remember I've been sheltered most of my life. I've been kept from dangers like this. Now that I have to face them, and now that I'm being told that I've been 'wrong' all along, I am basically terrified out of my skull.

I told you the world sucks.

That's why he needs to change it.

And this other kid insists he needs to be in this state to do so. Don't you get it? Nothing here makes any sense, not the things that should, and instead of helping anyone, all it's doing is confusing the sanity out of the people who CAN make a difference and do some good. It's a self-defeating prophecy or something equally asinine like that. I just-- geez. I can't take much more of this. Where is Mel?

Uh... why?

I want to talk to them. I want to freaking talk to them, right now.

Laurie, you wouldn't even let Jewel talk to us when he was as emotionally riled up as you are right now.

That was doubt. That was fear and sadness and guilt. This is righteous bleeding anger. I refuse to stand by and watch this play out any further.

I appreciate that, love, but I don't think they'd take to well to it...

Come on, kid, they're not taking very well to you right now, are they??

That's... I know. But they'd write you off as a demon or something, knowing them. They'd call you just another one of my flaws. An 'instrument of darkness.' A liar.

Just like Q did, huh? Because they're too blind to look past the surface of things and see what they actually are?

Maybe they're just scared off by your attitude, dear.

Oh, you shut up too.

Wait, they think Laurie's evil? Why?

Because I used to abuse him. You know that.

That doesn't mean you're evil though.

Not according to them. Heck, who am I kidding? I don't even know if that's their reason for judging me!

It's probably a major factor, though.

Pf. Like I care. They're just like that bloody therapist we had to put up with back in '08. Thinking she could lay out the perfect roadmap for your life judging on some random info she picked up within 20 minutes. Nice freakin' job.

Mel's known you longer than 20 minutes, though...?

Yeah, but not bloody well long enough. I've been around 4 years, and we're still trying to overcome problems that surfaced that long ago, because we still aren't sure of the bases and new triggers keep showing up! For heavens sakes, Chaos has been around for 7 years, Prelude's been around for almost 13, and J's been living the whole two decades with or without us, and there's still stuff we don't know! We can't know it yet, because we don't have the means or the knowledge or the wisdom or the light. It's simply a matter of right place, right time. And I really think that applies to this.

How so?

Mel doesn't know anything that's been going on-- not in the entirety of truth, anyway. And they can't know, just like us... just like we don't know if they're right or not, simply because we CAN'T.

But how is that the right place, right time?

It's not. I meant that in applying to learning what we need to know. Maybe this isn't the right time to be here in Utah? Maybe Mel's jumping on this too bloody early?? I mean, seriously, even I wouldn't throw the kid halfway across the country without a job or a home for the sake of some random drive of mine!

You come close.

Hah, maybe in different ways, and those ways are actually reasonable. They're mental. Emotional. They're things you have to accomplish. And I back them the heck up! I don't see anything behind this decision of theirs.

I told you, they say it's divine decree.

Uh-oh, Razia's Shadow.

And what's more than divine decree, tell me?

Destiny.

To reunite this world's divided halves, fulfill their history..

Exactly. God put you here for a bloody good reason, and I'd say that takes precedence. You're not doing anyone any good out here. Not now. Not yet.

So are you saying we should go home and then come back?

It's the only logical choice I can think up, geez. If Mel says it's God's will that you be here, but if God is telling you to go back and support your family, then go back. God speaks to your heart according to your life. You know that.

I love how you're so bizarrely split between this ridiculous wisdom and the harshest language I've ever heard from a prophet.

I'm no prophet, boy. I'm just a messenger. Just a blessing, so to speak.

So... wait, wait. Doubt.

Again? Why?

Wait, I know. Shoot. I get this now. Holy fish.

What, what happened?

The feeling that's trying to get me to stay. It's not guilt. It's selfishness.

Seriously? Why?

Think about it. This situation is poisoning me. I'm only here so I can share my ideas-- like Mel wants me to do-- but I'm going about it wrong. I'm only showing it off. I'm not making progress. And, as I'm sure we all know, my attacks have been getting worse the longer I stay.

So... some sort of dark instinct is telling you to stay because it allows you to be praised for your work?

Yeah. It's a vanity-feed. I need out.

I get it, haha! Man, that makes a lot of sense now.

Can you explain? I'm a bit new, so...

Jewel wants nothing more out of life than to use his inspirations and gifts to better the world, right? But he's not doing that here-- he's simply showing plans to people and basking in the positive feedback. Like a bloody hedonist.

Exactly. Out.

Wait, we're not done. The biggest problem here is that, as long as he's allowing himself to be blinded by that shallow appreciation, he's allowing his life's work to be twisted and maimed according to the whims of everyone who has a part in that praise. It's a fatal circle.

Which explains why I isolate myself in coffeeshops to do my work.

Right. It's from your heart and yours alone. All the outside corruption we've been getting is screwing everyone up royal. I've seen what it's done to your Links. You remember the last time this happened?

...Yeah...

I don't want that ever happening again. You won't be able to survive it this time. You have no safety net, no stability barrier. If the angels let you go, you're going to fall right into that pit of hell you've been warned of for so long.

I know.

And that hell is the world without your light in it.

...

You remember what we said about the stars, kid.

Without even one...

...The sky is a little darker.

Well then, I'd say we have this actually settled out pretty nicely.

I hope so.

So... we're going home?

Yeah. I have to be there for my family.

But what about Mel and Q?

Are you kidding? The kid's been nothing but a third wheel to them since he arrived. Every single morning after they spend the night doing God knows what, he gets nothing but slumped shoulders and 'I'm sorry's and regrets that he was even brought out here. Every single time! So why the heck do they want him to stay? As a safety blanket? A comfort object? Some sort of cushion against the loneliness they're going to feel when he's gone? I don't agree with any of those options, y'know. My kid is no one's toy. He has a job to do.

So... we are going home then.

I guess so. I mean, I really... I really don't... when it gets down to the bones of things, I don't feel safe here. I don't feel right. I feel like... like a shadow, or a stain, or some sort of black wraith. Something unwanted and... a mistake.

Basically, my exact argument. You buy those plane tickets.

But I'm still afraid of how it's going to affect them. I may not understand a word they say to me anymore, I may not understand their motives or thoughts or sights or anything... but God help me, I'm too naive not to still care. I still care about them, and whether or not Mel feels what they do, I can't forget the fact that they specifically asked me to stay. I'm afraid that leaving them is going to hurt. Or something.

Q didn't care when he left you.

Laurie, that was different. He couldn't deal with my problems anymore.

And how is that different from right now? You're slipping right back into that stage, boy. You're slipping right back into hiding the truth because you're 'afraid it will hurt,' and when it gets out, guess what? It bloody well DOES. And then they leave, and then they tell you to leave, because they can't deal with you anymore.

I don't get it.

Don't get what? The situation? Or how they do it?

Both.

Well, you never did. I'm not sure if you ever should. There are some parts of your head I'd like to keep white.

Same.

Jewel, I'm kinda scared about all this.

You and me both, love... I wish I knew what to say. I really do. I'm so sorry you got caught up in this.

No no no, I'm not scared of that. If you're caught up in this then I'll get caught too. We promised.

...I know. But...

But I'm scared because I don't know how it will turn out. That doesn't mean I want to run.

Same here. I'm not moving an inch from this spot, so to speak.

Haha, join the club!

I guess that means I'm in too, newbie or not.

Of course you're in, Jo. I need you here.

Aw... thank you. Thank you, really.

So, uh, plans?

For what?

For the rest of the night, geez. It's 10:30 in the freakin' evening; if I'm not mistaken, Q's going to be walking thr-- well hey. Speak of the shadow.

That's my line..

Shut up, I can see you shaking. Don't you dare stop channeling this. I have stuff to say yet.

...

Hey, uh, isn't that going to cause problems though?

Like what?

Like... well, when he last spoke to Mel.

Aha, no. No, that time we forced him into idle. This time we're up and running. Heck of a lot more painful, but better than shutting down in front of a computer screen at some ungodly hour.

But...

But what? What do you do? You keep talking. You finish this up, you either get some fitful sleep or stay up and think, and tomorrow you settle this disaster out like the man you want to be. I'm tired of watching you walk in circles and sob about how helpless you feel about all this. Come on, kid, if you don't get up and DO something about it then nothing is going to happen no matter how hard you wish, capisce?

All right.

I don't want a bloody 'all right,' I want action.

...I can't do that yet. Not this second.

I didn't ask for right this second. I asked for you to keep that in mind and carry it out the first chance you get. That's it.

I know.

And I know that you know, kid. You're just too bloody afraid to do it half the time.

You do know why, though. We've been over this.

Over what? Which reason? The reason for not standing up for his beliefs, or the reason for not doing half the shit he says he will?

Both.

Yeah, and what about it?

We don't exactly have access to one of those options right now. Actually, judging by the way the past two months have been going, I'm starting to doubt we even have access to the other.

I don't care if there's something in the way. We're going to push right through it. That's what we're doing right now, aren't we? The reason your boy's too afraid to speak up is because he's afraid of hurting the world. Well a bleeding heart can only go so far before it dies from the lack of life, you know, and we're getting pretty bleeding close right about now.

...I know. Just... it's a fragile situation. I can see that, and I know you can too. Just stop being so harsh about it.

Why? You're not afraid to get harsh when something rubs you the wrong way, so why condemn me for it?

Because... it feels like you're blowing them off. Like you're tossing them aside.

Well newsflash to you, greeneyes, I kind of am. That's not what matters here.

It matters to Jewel.

Every freaking thing matters to Jewel, that's the problem here! He can't see straight because he's too frantically focused on every other detail that doesn't matter in the big picture. Kind of relevant to the kid's art grades too, haha.

Hey, that wasn't the reason. I was there.

I'm just joking around, geez. But the point still carries true. We're not focusing on what's important here if we keep tossing around the irrelevant details. I can't speak for the rest of you, but right now the only thing that matters on my watch is whether or not my boy can even freaking function. That's not what's happening right now.

I... I don't know if I'll be able to function back home, either.

Why?

I, well, I don't know...

You're afraid of offending your grandparents. I know this, kid, we've been over it a thousand times.

That's only one factor. The other is-

The other is that accursed college and the job you had to quit because it was giving you trigger bombs every five minutes, yeah. And you think you'll be free of that in any other state? I thought that rejection letter would have opened your eyes.

...

Laurie, come on. He's not in a very stable state right now..

And?

And... I'm scared that if you push him too far, we're going to have a catastrophe on our hands.

Oh, I can handle a meltdown. I've put up with 'em before.

I can't.

Well, learn to handle it.

I'd rather not.

Guys, please, stop fighting. There's no reason to fight.

There bloody well is! I'm not getting off this laptop until we figure out a solid plan of action for the next week.

I thought it involved buying plane tickets and visiting his dad's apartment?

Well, it did. But you see, Jo, Jewel's still none too keen on buying said tickets.

Why not?

My question exactly.

Because they want me to stay.

And you don't want to.

And I've been told that I'm wrong.

And I don't care what you were told.

Guys, please, stop it!

...

If you won't talk to them, I will.

Laurie, please, don't.

Why not? Last time I spoke with Mel, it went down pretty smoothly.

That wasn't like this. This is different.

Can I talk to them, then?

You just want to talk, haha!

Can I though?

Sorry, but no.

Why not? I'm trying to fix this situation too!

Yeah, but you've only been around for a month, tops. I've been around for years. That blue guy over there has seniority over all of us, but he won't dare open his mouth around those two.

Forgive me for trying to be a peacekeeper here.

Hey, stop it with the sarcasm, bud. You're starting to get on my nerves.

That seems to be inevitable.

Please, you two, don't--

Gen, why are you so afraid of fights breaking out in here? Really?

There has to be a better way to do it without all this screaming!

We tried that. It didn't work.

You didn't try anything, Laurie. You've been mad since I came in here.

That was after my plan fell through the freakin' floor.

It still doesn't give you any good reason to be shouting at everyone all the time.

Doesn't it? Well then, Genesis, tell me this. If someone you cared about told Jewel that he was completely lacking in wisdom-- that he didn't know well enough to make his own life decisions-- what would you feel? You'd be pretty hurt, right?

Well, yeah--

Well, my hurt shows itself through shouting. There you go.

...

Gen, don't argue with her. You won't get anywhere.

Hey, don't you start again.

Laurie, please, I just need answers.

And you expect me to hand them to you? Listen, kid, I care about you just as much as the next guy, but if you expect me to get in the line of people you're waiting for instructions from, then you're going to be waiting a heck of a long time for my answer. Why else do you think I dragged Josephina in here? Jo, tell him why you're here.

To keep you from compromising who you are.

Exactly. And what are you doing right now?

Looking for answers...

And who the heck told you that you don't already have the answers?

Mel.

Well shoot. We really are going in circles.

Laurie, maybe we should just call this quits for now?

And give up?

Not give up. Clear our heads. I haven't even been the one shouting and I feel lightheaded.

Huh. Normally I'd jump on that option, but I'm too afraid that 'clearing our heads' is going to result in a certain someone clearing his out-- or putting even more junk in there.

I won't.

You can't guarantee that, boy. I know you.

Then I'll guarantee it.

I thought we were mortal enemies just two minutes ago?

Laurie, give it a break. You know what my responsibility is here, and so help me but I'm going to stand by it.

Your amber-faced friend doesn't seem to happy with how you go about it, though.

Because he and Jewel are the same in that aspect. They don't like unnecessary pain.

Too bad. I happen to specialize in that department.

Laurie...

What? I'm not going to lie about it.

Laurie, you're the liar this time.

Really now? How so?

I can't think of any instances of unnecessary pain from you.

Well, he does.

You're damn right I do.

Heh.

Still... I'm really worn out from this. I think maybe we should close it up, try and get our facts together...

And you promise you won't be a gutless hypocrite and go against everything I just told you?

You also just told me that I can't guarantee anything.

I'm not asking you to guarantee anything, kid. Like I said, I know you. I want a promise.

But isn't that the same as a guarantee?

Not exactly, Jo. You'll learn. This kid is one heck of an anomaly.

I promise, then. The best I can.

Good. Chaos, you watch him for me.

I watch him even when you don't want me to.

Good point. Oh yeah, speaking of... how's Genesis been doing?

What? Me?

You been watching for triggers? Or have you been too scared?

I...

Laurie, DON'T.

Don't what? Don't get him to face his own conscience?

That's not how you go about things. Leave him alone. If anything needs to be dealt with, I'll do it.

Being pretty bloody protective of your sweetheart's BFF, I'd say.

And I'll repeat, I'll be as bloody protective as I need to be.

Suit yourself. If something goes wrong, don't go crying to me.

I won't.

Guys, please. I'm starting to get horribly dizzy.

It's called mental trauma, love. You'll get used to it.

...

Heh, don't you go glaring at me like that.

Please, Laurie.

Fine, fine. But tell me, Jayce. What's next on your agenda?

What?

After you close this up... after you fix up this conversation, what's your next plan of action? Are you going to sleep it off like you always do? Try to escape? Or are you going to face the problem and actually solve it for once? Are you going to go straight to the source and settle this out?

I... I don't...

You're too scared, you dastard. I knew it.

No, no... I have to stop being scared.

That's right you do!

But I don't... I don't think I can manage another draining experience at this hour. I mean, I theoretically could, but then I'd either shut down, melt down, or...

Or lose the steering wheel.

...Yeah. And... and I'm not too comfortable with the idea of letting you at it right now.

How about tomorrow?

Letting you out?

Yeah.

I... we'll see.

Hot dang. I think this might actually work in my favor for once.

Laurie, I swear, if you try anything insane--

Chill out, bro. I've got this.

I'm not joking around.

Neither am I.

Um... I really think we should close up like we said we would. Otherwise we're just going to keep having more arguments...

All right, fine. J, give me your schedule.

For tonight?

For tonight, and the next few days.

I... I don't know that yet...

Don't give me that, boy. We talked about this. The plan is set.

Is it?

What, you're changing your mind now?

No, I just...

Jewel, don't panic.

I'm... okay, okay. I'll try not to.

I'm still waiting for an answer.

...Um... well, I still think I should sleep tonight off, just so I can calm down enough to have a stable conversation...

And then?

...And then we discuss this.

And after that...?

...

Come on kid, we've decided this.

T..tickets.

There you go.

Laurie, I swear, if you didn't mean so much to him I'd punch you a good one right here and now.

And why's that?

You just... your methods. I'm not exactly thrilled with them.

Hey, too bad. They work.

So do mine.

I don't see you acting as his superego, though.

That's because I have a more important position than you do.

Maybe so, but if you don't act on it, you won't do anyone much good.

Laurie, for the love of--

Chaos, please. Stop. I need to sleep.

...

Jewel, are you really okay?

No.

Good, you didn't lie for once! Progress, gentlemen, we're making progress.

Uh, Laurie?

Yeah?

Do I just... what am I doing now?

You're coming with me, that's what, and I'm making sure you understand as much of this situation as you possibly can before tomorrow. You want to talk? Then you're going to need to know what you're talking about.

All right. Sounds good to me. Jewel, I'm sorry if I upset you or anything...

No, you're good. Thanks, Jo.

Hey, it's why I'm here. Try and get some sleep, okay? And please watch out for Julie, because...

...I know. I'll watch.

'Kay. Good night, then.

I do believe that's my curtain call. You lunatics can handle this situation well enough without me, I hope?

I daresay we'll handle it better without you here. Now you said you were leaving?

Heh, only for a little while.

...

Jewel, you can't be letting this keep happening.

What?

This-- this letting everyone toss you around like a rag doll. I know you have that martyr complex and all, but geez, this is getting to be too much.

Yeah, I don't like seeing you do this to yourself either.

I... guys, listen. I know I shouldn't. I know I need to be... well, to make sure I can still function, like Laurie said. But...

But you're too afraid of hurting people, I know. I've been on the other side of that situation a few times.

...I'm so sorry.

Don't apologize to me, Jewel. I don't hold any of it against you. I never did. If there's anyone you need to apologize to, it's yourself.

And maybe Laurie.

I don't care what Laurie thinks, Gen.

Chaos, please, she knows what she's talking about... she's just a little rough about it.

A little? Kid, I don't know what you've been up to lately, but as far as I remember, she doesn't exactly play nice when you're alone with her.

I ask her to do it.

That doesn't mean it doesn't upset me.

...Me too..

Yeah, geez, you can't even handle her shouting. Be glad you haven't seen the stuff I have.

...I've seen worse.

...

I think we've all seen worse things than what Laurie can put me through.

Jewel, please--

--And that's why she's so harsh. Chaos, listen, I know you don't exactly get along with her half the time, but she takes my attacks just as badly as you do. It may not seem like it, but we're all in this together, okay?

...All right. Just promise me something.

Hey, I've already made one tonight, a second should be no problem.

...You remember, a few years ago, when I told you...

Told me what?

...Stay who you are. Please.

For me, too, okay?

...Okay. Okay, I will. I promise you both.

Cross your heart.

Already did.

Good.

Heh... Gen, you really know what you're doing..

Course I do. Now we all need to get sleep.

I really doubt I'll be doing much sleeping after this...

Then don't, if you can't. Don't end the day on a painful note like this.

Don't you do that either, alright?

I'll... try not to. It's a bit difficult for me.

Here's an idea, then. Focus on something else. Something that won't be bothered by this situation, that you can hold on to.

Like what?

Like us. Like Genesis and I. We're not going to leave you, no matter what you do.

I should hope not...

Kid, I promised you that ages ago. I will never leave you. Stop worrying so much.

Heh, alright.

Guys I'm really starting to yawn over here and that's bad.

Jewel, I think your muse needs sleep.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Hey, I do! I'm really tired you know. Plus I have to float around all day which makes it worse.

Okay, okay! I swear, I can't be in a bad mood with you two around..

Not entirely, at least.

...No, not entirely.

Hey, can you do me a favor?

What?

Finish that book before you shut down for the night. I've been watching how that's affecting you and I think you might get something you need from it.

You think?

Hey, no coincidences. If this morning is any indication, I'd say they've been lining up pretty well for you today.

Hm. Maybe so. I'll do it, then-- I've been going crazy over how it might end anyway.

I figured you might, considering what it influenced.

...That too.

And you know, it's all about the life divine...

A hero's ending, all the signs.

You're the one, and the one you must survive.

Yeah...

Wrong song, but I think it works.

Hah, if you memorized Milliontown I think I'd be pretty shocked.

And I daresay you know the significance of that one well enough already.

Yeah, I do.

I love you, kid. More than anything.

I know.... I know. I love you too. Always.

Don't forget me!

I could never, darling. Now get to sleep; we're all going to need it.

Darn straight we will. You sign off first, though; I know how you work.

Geez, does everyone know how I work except me??

Well, maybe that's something you should think about, hm?

Huh. I guess it is.

Anyway, we really should've ended this ages ago.

Not really. We always find stuff to do with the extra time.

I thought you said you were falling asleep?

I am. Maybe I'm sleep-talking right now. You never know.

Oh man, don't start that up again...

Yeah, I'd say you've had enough of that for tonight. One more thing, though.

Hm?

The title. Who's it about?

Uh...

You know that's entirely inaccurate.

...

Hey, look at me.

Hm?

Stop putting yourself so low, okay?

I had a good reason to, though...

I can't think of a single reason in the world good enough to put you down, kid, and I don't know how you still can.

I guess...

Now for heaven's sake, close this infernal thing up and get to work. With how early you've been checking in lately, I think your boss is going to think something's up if you disappear all of a sudden.

Knowing him, yeah. And I need the sleep.

Then get some, and don't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

Hah, I won't be. That's one thing I can guarantee.

 

 

 


prismaticbleed: (shatter)


So hey guys. Jayce here.
Yeah, I'm sticking with the name. Don't diss me; I'm more than a little sick of making my own choices only to have them overthrown by someone with an entirely different and irrelevant reference point. I've been 'trying out' the name for several months now (a year? geez I have no clue) and it really... well, it fits.
I've never been this happy with myself before. Sure, I've been pretty terrifically psyched with the work I've done, but with the kid in the mirror? Nah. I always disassociated, and although I will freely admit that I still am, at least the image I'm projecting makes me honestly smile.
So I've made up my mind. I'm going through with the FTM surgery and hopefully getting nullified shortly afterwards. God only knows when I'll get the means to do so (hopefully soon), but at least it's mentally decided. That's a huge load off my back, which as you all know is bad enough the way it is!

As for the title, well, let's start this past Saturday morning. As you assumedly know, I spent the vast entirety of June in Utah with Q and Mel, and returned on July 9th to stay here for about... I dunno, three weeks? Anyway, leaving my home so suddenly in June really disoriented me. I spent June in a sort of 'interim,' virtually unable to communicate with my family back in PA because my sense of reality had shifted horribly off-scale. I kind of 'ghosted' for the four weeks until my return, upon which I was faced with several huge dilemmas. I've spoken about the moral/personal ones in glissando, but the other one focused solely around my future. While I have indeed touched upon that point in the past as well, it was the immediate choices I was now being forced to make that burnt me out.
Let me clarify. Staying at home was a problem because my school and work lives had been pretty much shot, my space at home was very limited and I was desperately looking for a new road to walk. However, heading back out to Utah to hopefully find said road was also a huge problem for several massive reasons... I didn't have a school or work life at all there, let alone family or a roof over my head. I was basically jumping blindfolded into a canyon and hoping that I wouldn't black out upon hitting the water... that is, if the water wasn't just a hallucination at this point. Still, I figured it was worth a shot, so I bit my tongue and hopped a plane to Chicago on the 31st, where I would meet the cat and the otter. Well... that's when things started to go downhill again, and it frightened me.
See, I tend to forget experiences in their entirety, and if I do retain a memory, my mind tends to 'chop it up' to keep it from traumatizing or otherwise damaging me. That's what it apparently did with the four weeks I spend in Utah prior. I had remembered it as a positive experience until I stepped off the plane and was thrown back into the unsettling realization that I just didn't fit. It really took hold when Q and Mel decided to take me walking randomly through Chicago for some undisclosed reason.
Fun fact #1: I cannot stand random, spontaneous schedules. If you're going to wander off somewhere with no real plan, no real destination and no time/travel estimate, do NOT take me with you because I will flip out. Fun fact #2: beaches, carnivals and large public gatherings trigger massive panic attacks in me. Fun fact #3: Guess what happened in Chicago?
Yep, not only did they basically just wander about without telling me what the heck we were doing (bad enough I only had about $50 in my pocket, no keys, and no awareness of the surrounding area), but when they decided they were going to settle on a destination, it was a freaking park on the beach. What. So yeah, I panicked. Heck, as soon as I saw the buildings start to die down I was worried-- once the first hint of saltwater air hit me I snapped.
But let's fast-forward. Since I had such a breakdown we couldn't logically stay, so thankfully about 20 minutes in we decided to catch a bus back out to near where we were staying. The rest of the night was relatively okay from what I remember, as nothing happened, but honestly it's a useless memory to me and I'd rather not think upon it.
I dreamt about my left knee exploding in blood.
Understandably, I was not very stable when I woke up, and when I heard we were apparently headed to a farm, the panic meter shot back up. As I was too shaken to think straight, my coping was limited to biting my arms until they bruised. Once again I can't remember what happened over the rest of that day, but that evening and the entirety of our Monday were pretty much just wasted away with random hanging out in Wisconsin farmland. Sure, the fields were flipping gorgeous, but when they're full of cows and I can't run through them, they lose some of their magic, y'know?
Plus all I could think of was Dori. We were only about 3 hours driving time away from her, and it was all I could think of.
I'm so confused. I still care for her deeply, unconditionally, but I don't know what I feel for anyone anymore. It hurts more than I can possibly say.
Oh-- there was actually one other thing. We visited a model train layout. I know, I know, I'm not a fan of such things, but I never really understood why until I visited that one in the rather painful mood I was in. Of course, there's the issue of spending such extravagant amounts of money on bits of electronic metal and foam, but the real killer is why they do it... or at least my perception of why.
They create an entire fantasy world. That's it. Those huge setups, with their random plastic houses and people eternally 'living' the same moments as toy trains whiz aimlessly by... they're just fantasy worlds. Useless ones. What good is that doing for anyone? Sure, it'll entertain some random passerby for a few minutes as they wander by, but it ultimately achieves no greater good.
It just bugs me to no end when people create things with no 'real' purpose to them. Yeah, I know some people do it for a hobby, but why? I just don't get it. Oh well.
Back on topic.
We woke up at 6AM on Tuesday, and drove to Dubuque Iowa to catch a bus.

All right, this experience was so stressful it needs a paragraph break. Here we go.
So we wait at the terminal from 9AM to 12PM, and in the meantime I get a phone call from my dad saying that the U had rejected my application because my GPA was below 2.0. Well, my jaw hit the floor. There was no way in heaven it could be that low-- so I called my home campus. Well, you remember the winter semester of 2009 when I had those repeated mental breakdowns and had to drop out of classes? Apparently that still counted towards my academic record, and so now I'm screwed! The only thing I can do now is speak to the U's offices in person and see if they can make an exception for me, considering my psychological issues... but we'll get back to that point later. Needless to say, that news upset me horribly, and so I was in a pretty agonized mood until about 5PM, when we got off at a connecting terminal in Des Moines, Idaho.
That's where our title comes from. We basically hung out there for the next 6 hours, as I fixed my iPod's library (his name is Razia btw) and read The First Horseman until our bus to Denver showed up around 11PM. Unfortunately, the bus terminal announced it as Omaha instead, and so we weren't aware it was even ours until we went out to confusedly double-check-- and were told that yeah, it WAS our bus, but there was no seating left. So we and a small crowd of fellow passengers were left at the terminal waiting for a replacement bus that wasn't even guaranteed to show up.
Then the terminal decided to close.
Yes, you heard me. Our bus group, as well as a bunch of people waiting for a 1AM pickup, were thrown out on the curb around 12AM and told to wait there as the workers assumedly went home. This wouldn't have been a huge problem if we had been guaranteed a bus arrival, if it hadn't been 12AM, AND if it hadn't been thunderstorming-- with a tornado warning, no less.
You guessed it: panic attack! I got to the point where I was shaking uncontrollably and couldn't breathe correctly, all the while getting soaked and wishing I were back in PA, where I at least had a home to go to.
That's when I was forced to really look at my situation.
There I was: a phantom Sandman, shaking like a madman in a plastic chair on a Des Moines sidewalk, buffeted by moths, rain and wind, and completely unaware of where the next bus would be taking me. Not a very pretty situation. I immediately asked myself why the heck I was even on a cruddy sidewalk in Idaho, and the only answer I had was "because I'm supposed to go to Utah."
That sentence sounded so incredibly stupid at 1AM I wanted to cry. So I was basically ostracizing myself because I was supposed to? Says who?
Then I looked to my right to see a boy in red and a girl in black, and my head slumped down onto my chest. Oh.
See, my problem is my devotion, as undetectable as it is. I'm incredibly devoted to my family, but I still care about these two kids... so being forced to choose is more than I can handle.
The only major warning sign is that said kids insist that I "must" stay here in Utah. No exceptions.

I'm currently sitting in Q's living room, 8:23PM, listening to Eminem, wondering where I'm going to sleep, and feeling more lonely than I have ever been in my life.

I really don't care whether or not I'm "supposed" to be here anymore.
The truth is, I'm being used as a crutch here. I'm not sure how, as I don't understand their motives, but I can feel it. No matter what they tell me, I still feel like a third wheel and I keep looking out the window and wishing I were on the planes that fly overhead.
I don't know how much longer my grandparents will live. My brothers are growing up without me. My past is fading away. Yeah, I want to live a meaningful future, but geez-- if I'm stuck here in this mountain state holding up two lovebirds who apparently can't function without romance, then I'm not going to have one anyway.
I really, really want to go back home. I want to see my family again. I just... I guess I took them for granted. It wasn't until I was dragged out here that I realized how much they mean to me, even if I don't spend much time at the house, even if I don't feel safe within the walls. It's still my freaking home. It's still my family out there.
When I walked out the door on Saturday, I saw my grandfather cry for the first time in the 20 years I've been on this earth. That hurt more than you know.

When I go back to PA, I'm going to land a job at Borders, spend a huge amount of time working on my personal projects, and do everything humanly possible to fix my academic record and get back into the educational system. I want to make progress. Heck, I want to make MUSIC. I want to reach out and change peoples lives, and I want to have a life ahead of me... I'm sick and tired of sitting on buses and couches waiting to be given the next orders from my charge.

Still, I feel so horribly selfish, and that's what makes everything so difficult here.
Leaving Q and Mel will be 'betraying' them, as they do insist I stay no matter what. However, staying here will be leaving my family behind, who misses me terribly and who frankly needs me around.
I feel like a really confused guardian angel right now. The kids across the room apparently need me to watch over them, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel right at all.
God, what do I do, huh?
I'll try to stay here for at least a week... maybe two... see what I can do. I just feel so lonely and torn up right now.

Oh well. This too shall pass, I'm the only one who can live my life, and despite my being pulled in so many different directions, my vision is clearing up for the first time.
I just need to take a deep breath, check my head and heart, and step onto the next road.
Hesitation isn't doing me any good. Life is full of chances and choices, and unless I find the guts to stand up for my personal Light, I'm going to die here.
I refuse to just fade away. I refuse to just rot here. I refuse to compromise anymore.
Time to set this in motion.





Relax, I ain't goin back to that now
All I'm tryin to say is get back, click-clack, blaow
Cause I ain't playin around
It's a game called circle and I don't know how, I'm way too up to back down
But I think I'm still tryin to figure this crap out
Thought I had it mapped out but I guess I didn't, this fckin black cloud
still follows me around but it's time to exorcise these demons
These muh'fckers are doing jumpin jacks now!

I'm not afraid
To take a stand
Everybody come take my hand
We'll walk this road together, through the storm
Whatever weather, cold or warm
Just lettin you know that, you're not alone
Holla if you feel like you've been down the same road

And I just can't keep living this way
So starting today, I'm breaking out of this cage
I'm standing up, I'ma face my demons
I'm manning up, I'ma hold my ground
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now!


prismaticbleed: (shatter)


I don't have the strength to talk, type, sleep, or fight.
It's been terrifying me how my self-abusive tendencies have gone through the roof since I left Utah, and I'm sick wondering if it's because I left or because I stayed. I knew something was wrong when Julie started attacking me at Mel's house, whenever I'd step into the bathroom, so no one could help me. Prior to those attacks, she hadn't touched me in weeks. That scared me. That really scared me.
Now I can't go more than a few hours without something desecrating me. I've already had about three separate attacks since midnight, and I'm just barely fighting off another one right now. I can't even take a shower, as usual, because I know they'll get me as soon as I'm cut off from help. I have to leave all doors open, all phones and messaging centers active, everything. I can't stand it, as that much 'openness' freaks me out, but it's better than being mindraped.

...Bridget is back.
I hope she doesn't bring Missy with her, please God, don't let her come back too. Laurie is trying to decide whether to be screaming or sobbing at this point, and it really hurts to see her so utterly lost. Chaos Zero is keeping his distance but he's not been doing well either. He actually 'unhinged' while I was trying to sleep the other night, and was murmuring something about my life being the blueprint for his or something. I remember that because Laurie was floating above my bed and saying that we were in temporary limbo, but I don't recall what happened after that...
Anyway, yeah, my old evil headvoices are 'resurrecting.' Bridget has been dead for at least 3 years now, so this is truly terrifying. She represents arrogance, apathy and wrath, by the way... her color is green. I don't like her at all, and I haven't even seen much of her, thank heaven.
My self-image has unwaveringly been Jayce for the past week or so. Although this is helping me deal with mirrors (I noticed the switch after I had a major abusive breakdown last week in front of the mirror), when I'm in that state I'm even more naïve than I am in Spine's shell, so Julie tries to take advantage of me a LOT. I try to fight her off the best I can, but lately I've been weak because of my own self-abuse.
My self-loathing and lack of control over my surroundings is beginning to externalize. All that frustration and panic is beginning to overflow and I'm beginning to unconsciously turn it on other people who I have no control over either (read:everyone ever). That's why Bridget came back... all this painful fury.
I don't like it. I need to get somewhere safe somehow, but... well, I have no car, I have no money, and I have no time. I have to finish going through my belongings and packing the smallest amount I can take to Utah before Wednesday, which is kind of hellish right now. But I have to do it.

...Here's what I read that triggered this. From Mel.

"...I came over to Q's, and read Jewel's message that basically said she wasn't coming. That was too much for me...
I can't help but be furious at Jewel right now. Does she really want to suffer?
She told me that coming here would be worse for her than suffering the hell her family puts her through everyday.
Bullshit.
Your coming here was not just for me. I'm disgusted at the way you refuse to make progress, and when you do, you make the problems larger and more complicated.
Yes, I need you.
When Q is gone, I will have no one.
You just affirmed that fact by refusing to come here.
You know it will help you, yet you still refuse.
Why are you resigning yourself to hell constantly?
You deserve better than this: I know it, Q knows it, you should know it.
Help me understand: please."


The moment I read that, I FELT the self-hate burn outwards, and that was so horrific I knew I had to turn my mind elsewhere... but I owe her a reply. I owe everyone a reply.
I said I wasn't coming out of rashness and out of compromise. My family does NOT want me to go out to Utah, and they are saying they're not only being perfectly logical but are also saving me, an immature, mindless moron, from making yet another stupid decision that will ruin everyone's life. That alone is a huge stressor for me, and while I'm trying to figure out if they're right or not, Mel said she NEEDS me over in Utah, so I'm trying to figure out if SHE'S right or not at the exact same time. It's so incredibly painful that I basically just went with my parents at first, as I had to deal with them face-to-face daily, and didn't have the heart to go against them.
I'm furious at me too. Welcome to the past 20 years of my life. And yeah, that is exactly why I want to suffer. I feel I deserve a damn good amount of pain in my life, and when I don't get it I literally freak out. Not only that, but resigning myself to trying to live selflessly means that, if something starts 'working in my favor,' I also panic and wonder what I did wrong this time.
Going down to Utah would be worse than staying here because, first of all, it's immediately going to turn my family against me in some way. No matter how much of a 'perfect mother' my mum has been trying to be lately, I have seen her at her worst, and she might pull that again if I go against her orders to stay. Secondly, even though I'm going to be there for you, EVERY voice that's spoken to me-- yours and mine-- says that I hurt you, used you, am bad for you, and the like. Seeing you suffer and not being able to do anything is bad enough. Not being able to care for you entirely because I cannot understand how people work is bad enough. But knowing that most of what's up in our heads is convinced that I am trying to kill you is unbearable. Maybe I am, and I don't know! That's why it would be worse... Q would be gone, I can't get him back for you, I can't take his place, I can't help you the way you expect, and I can't keep any voices from telling me that I am a huge negative force in your life. Here I just have to worry about not killing myself. I don't want to end up inflicting any agony on you on top of everything else. I could never live with myself if I did.
And ironically, if it happened, I'd say I deserved it. What the hell is wrong with me, right? I'll tell you. I haven't felt the slightest bit happy with myself in over 8 years, because 8 years ago, I HAD no self. I was the quiet kid who did nothing but DRAW all day. Once I was forced to 'grow up' and stop giving life to my own worlds, something snapped, and I've been miserable ever since. Yes, yes, life is hell and she rapes everyone, but for the love of sanity I DON'T HAVE TO STAND FOR THAT. I don't give a flying fish if 95% of the population thinks life sucks; I still think it's beautiful despite all the junk we're going through, and so help me but it is really freaking difficult to keep my eyes white with what I'm exposed to on a daily basis.
I don't understand why you say my coming over there was not just for you. I thought that was the only reason? Education was just icing on the cake: an excuse for traveling 2000 miles to be with a girl I just met, a flimsy tale to tell my parents when they ask me why I'm 'running away from home' or 'making such an immature decision.' Who am I kidding; I didn't know why the heck I was leaving either, except that you TOLD me to! I was just too naive to realize that I could have refused!!
I WANT to make progress, Mel. That line hurt me so much I don't even want to think about it. What do you consider progress? What do you consider progress??
Please, my life and your life are different. What you may see as a step forward might be a dozen steps backward for me. What you see as a saving light might be the fires of hell for me.
I'm really scared, I'm not in the right body, I can't sleep because I'm tired of this and I can't stay awake because I want to forget all this. I sob into every mirror I see because I don't recognize what's in it, and not in the 'I should be a different person' way! I look in the mirror and I see wrongfully borrowed skin; I see a bag of bones that I was damned to suffer 20 years ago because the trial made me stronger. I just hope to God that He doesn't want me to die before I can finally make a good person out of myself.
What problems am I making larger? The family problem? Unfortunately, that's because I TRIED to take that 'step forward,' to get out of here, and go to you. That's what made my family angry with me. That's why I said I wasn't going at first; because it hurts so much when you say I'm just making my problems worse. I thought maybe I was doing the right thing for once. I was wrong.
Q doesn't know a freaking thing. It's the reason I ran from him in 2008. He's incredibly adamant and so sure in every observation and decision he makes, even if he is taking the wrong stance. When he does that to me, when I KNOW he's blindly thinking he's right, it hurts me horribly and makes me frighteningly angry. That's why I don't like talking to him... I can't get anywhere with him. If I do make progress, it's because I'm so frustrated that I just fall back on my two baselines: "this too shall pass" and "you can't die yet." So I pretend it's all okay, I get up off the floor and I keep walking, because it's true. Most of the time I don't remember a word anyone else spoke to me, so it really stings when they think they know every answer to my problems. Heck, I don't even know what my problems truly are; how are you supposed to solve something that's not even true or false?
It doesn't make me hate either of you, and it doesn't make me love you any less (although I'm not even sure if this is love anymore, as sickening as that is), but it does put a huge strain on whatever sort of relationship this is, because although you say you only want to help and are doing so the only way you know how, it is doing naught but causing me a ton of extra suffering.
You see why I'm hesitant to help you, no matter how desperately I want to. I don't know if I can sync with your life without causing catastrophe, which breaks my heart.
And yet I'm coming out there anyway. I am fully aware how huge of a risk it is for me, but I will be there. It makes me feel utterly worthless and depraved to say so, but you want me to, and despite how horribly wrong it feels it also feels right (yeah, my mind is pretty screwed up lately), which not only takes an axe to my moral compass but leaves me incapable of making my own decisions. So I let my family drag me one way and let you pull me back the other way. The pain I got from your words is what's making me leave for good. I told you; I can't live with myself knowing that I'm causing you such awful suffering. My family just doesn't want their 'precious, talented baby girl' (who is secretly a dude) making another stupid, stupid decision and 'running away' because I have 'no street smarts' and the like... it makes me sick thinking about all of it, about all of the contrasting opinions here.
Am I resigning myself to hell? What is hell to you? To me, it's waking up every morning stuck in an interim. I would have broken right out of this damnation ages ago if I had the money and the time, so I just do what my parents say to do and think "God must want me to suffer longer." Is that hell? Is it divine will for me to be stuck here? What lamps have I, the fallen Hope-Bringer, destroyed? What have I done?

I don't know what I deserve. I have no right to say and i don't want to think about it.
All I ever wanted out of life was to spread love and righteousness and I can't even do that with how screwed-up my life is right now.
What does it even feel like to do the right thing? Is it supposed to make you feel this guilty? What is going on??

I've been shivering for the past 4 hours, I'm hysterically fighting off headvoices, I'm horrifically hypersensitive, and I still have to call Q's family. I am just too freaking scared of them to pick up the phone... how am I going to stay there for 2 years if they terrify me? I couldn't even go into their basement to take a shower when his sister was down there because I am scared of her. I don't even know why! I'm scared of my own freaking brothers, for heavens sakes! My father asked me "what the hell I wanted already" because I told him I didn't feel safe in this apartment, and all I could say was "I don't know!" I'm such a pathetic little slob. I'm a virtually useless wreck of a screwup who can't even get on track long enough to fulfill his damn purpose in life. And every time I use that pronoun I want to cry, because it actually feels objectively right for once and I know I can't have it. It's such a stupid, selfish thing to get so worked up over, but for the love of life, how am I supposed to live as a functioning member of society, no matter how effed-up society is, if I can't even function in my 'own' skin? Mel, I want to help you, I want to help everyone I can, but you said it yourself, so many times-- "Why are you resigning yourself to hell constantly?"
I can't get out of this, and as long as I am being tormented, I can't see straight enough to help a soul. When I run to you to try and help, I trip and fall, and you wonder why I "refuse" to fix my own problems. I hope you understand how horribly painful it is for me to hear that from you. I just... I don't know how to make you understand.
I don't understand anyone.
I thought you were different. As selfish as it is, I thought you were a person I could love entirely, someone to help me out of this hell, but... but I thought Q was, too, and then he 'fell in love' with me. Why did that make everything so much more senseless to me?
I don't understand anyone. I don't understand myself. I don't know how to help you because I don't know what's going on and listen to me whining like a selfish little bitch and no no no no no no no


get them out of my head oh god PLEASE GET THEM OUT


I'll take the greyhound, sure!
20 hours of this, all in a row! i don't mind! i can't! i have to do it!
but when i get out there you'll still be romancing
and i won't get it
and some stupid, stupid, stupid part of me will condemn you for it
because it strikes me as useless.
don't listen to me.
tell me how i can help
even if its just standing there at this point
all i can give you is the truth
"i wish i could help you"
"but i don't know what help is"
and oh god I just want to help you
that's it
that's it.




 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (Default)
 
10 July 2010 @ 04:00 am
I finally got to look into this musical I've had noted since last March... and WHOA MAN.

You have NO IDEA how gorgeous this thing is.


12 July 2010 @ 10:23 am
DUDE THANK YOU TUMBLR I just figured out what to do with Isabelle's backstory. XD 7 FLIPPING YEARS LATER!


13 July 2010 @ 03:13 am

 Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the lord my soul to keep.

and if I die before I wake,

I pray for God my soul to take.



16 July 2010 @ 11:05 pm
I'm not going to sleep tonight. Not after the shit I keep putting myself through. No sir; if you want suffering and sickness that bad, I'll give it to you.
I need to get out of here.
I need to get out of here.
 
Well that's it.
Staying up another night.
Plan to be on the road all day tomorrow.
Sunday is my last day.
If I don't do something by Monday, God help me but I don't know what'll happen.

 

pinstripes

Jun. 27th, 2010 01:55 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

It's a lie to even look at them.

I woke up at around 7 this morning, I think... got myself ready for Sunday services and seeing the MoTab... didn't speak a word on the way up. Too much on my mind, or nothing at all. I don't remember. I can only remember looking out at the mountains, and thinking how unreal everything felt.
Seeing the Tabernacle Choir was a beautiful disappointment. I'm addicted to heart-wrenching music, and the only transcendental chords were hidden in the first piece. So I sat and waited, listening to the instruments like a maniac listening to the wing flutters of a dying moth, voicelessly searching for that sound. It never came.
That took a heavy toll on me for some reason, and I spent the next 20 minutes trying to channel crystal wings before hopelessly realizing that the reflection I walked by didn't match me at all.
Sunday services were the same. There was too much talk, too many tears that I couldn't understand, too many strange bothers and too little pain. I need pain... I need contrition to feel any sort of ethereal life. That's why I like the structured mass I grew up with... it's always just slightly different enough to keep you thinking about every little word and chord and ritual, but it's similar enough to the past that my mind tends to dive deep as I sit there in those red pews. I like being in my typical church because the silence and the solemnity give me something gorgeous to hold on to. I'm supposed to be there, I want to be there, but whenever there's an interim I can just let go and see where God takes me. I couldn't find that today.

I had a priestly blessing given to me last night... it was almost cruelly sad, because every word God gave to me was a quietly loving repetition of the truths I already knew so well, so beautifully well, but was too lost and blind to realize. I've been blessed so much, ever since my childhood; those blessings are the only reason I'm alive right now. I've changed lives, I've been given an inner sight many can't even imagine, I've been given Peace herself as a lifelong muse. I've been given four angels to protect and guide me...
Trials are necessary. I know this. I've been suffering all my life, and somehow the entire time I knew that they would be beneficial in the end. Those traumatic childhood memories, those sleepless high school nights stained red with JTHM and self-sacrifice... all of them have contributed to the best parts of me right now.
That poses my problem.

Positivity does not fit with me.
"God wants me to be happy," they tell me, and I know it's true. However the sort of true happiness He's been giving me so far isn't the sunshine and flowers sort so many people think of.
Let me go off on a tangent...
I've never liked 'fun.' You know... amusement parks, recreational activities, board games, stuff like that. I had them all as a kid, but they never really worked out. I'd go to the amusement parks to ride the airborne rides, pretending I was flying along with the Jewel Monsters, but in time I lost my trust of those machines and realized the time they were stealing from me. Board games were only fun to me if I could turn them into my own creation, so to speak. I enjoyed 'Life' because I could write a theoretical future with it. I liked the mystery games because I could think about the characters and their roles. My favorite game, though, was about a unicorn and some princesses... I basically rewrote the entire plot in my head. I enjoyed creation and significance, not moving plastic pieces across a slab of cardboard for two hours. I'd go to fairs and picnics and family trips, but rarely enjoyed them and always looked forward to going home. In time I developed a crippling fear of their atmosphere... the smell of fries and funnel cakes, the loud brass music, the yellow and white lights strung overhead, the crowds of people. Even the slightest hint of that now is enough to send me spiraling into a panic. It's a carnival of senseless hedonism to me. Food, drink, and 'fun.' Screw that; I have work to do.
So I look for positive negativity, so to speak. I look for minor keys and left-eye teardrops and lonely nights and broken chandeliers. I seek out the silent streetlights and outcast souls and the empty streets drenched by rain. Those are the only things that feel real to me, and I've never really been able to explain it.

I had to borrow Mel's clothes for services this morning. Pinstripe pants and a black/white dress top. It was okay until I got about 2/3 through the Sunday service... that's when that awfully sick perception shift happened; that utterly displacing thought that I looked like a woman.
Naturally I began to freak out. As soon as I walked in Q's door I was milliseconds away from tearing the thing off and throwing on a suit, no kidding. That then led me into a train of thought that I really need to discuss, and eventually settle.
I'm sitting here in a pair of black jeans, a white Dichotomy top and a grey overjacket from the mens' section in Kohls. I mussed up my hair before the mirror so it spiked up just enough, grabbed each side of my lapel, and was for a moment comfortable with the face in the mirror. If I weren't so freaking numb lately I think I would've cried or something.
I just... I don't fit. I've never fit this face, this body, this vessel. Yeah, I need to use it as a conduit, but geez... can't I change it up a bit so I stop having breakdowns every time I walk past a mirror?
I think that's the most painful feeling in the entire world for me right now... the acutely agonizing awareness that my 'body' is not mine, that no matter where I go I will not find home, because the bones I am bound to are the wrong sort... that for now, for the length of this terrible trial, I am lost, trapped in a 5'8'' prison that tears me apart every waking moment.

Going back to our opening sentence, that's what's been going on. I don't have the nerve, the will, the right or the want to even look at Q or Mel right now. I mean, come on, these eyes feel stolen. It's a horrible feeling, you know; that no matter how genuine my soul strives to be, I will always be false, for the immediate impression I give to the world is a complete falsehood, a black lie.
I'm also still stupidly numb. Yes, yes I know I thought I was getting over it... and maybe I am; I don't know. I just can't feel anything other than this desperate, manic need to escape. And they're making it worse.
Laurie's doing okay. She's actually going back to the positive state she was in earlier this month, which makes me smile. I missed her a lot.
Too bad I can't do the same, I guess. There's that dull ache in the center of my chest again, which is completely bizarre because it's not even a physical sensation as far as I can tell. Fun fact; if you ask me if I hurt anywhere, I will most likely answer "yes" even if there's not the slightest twinge of a nerve in my body. There's just this chronic, invisible pain within me at all times, and it's impossible to describe because it requires a whole new sense to accommodate it. I'm only getting echoes of it, which is good I guess, because I think that if I took on everything I'm dimly percieving I might just die from the pain.
It's making everything really strange, too... no, I can't actively feel anything, but I can still emote, if that makes sense. I'm worried how Q and Mel are perceiving all this, but my numbness makes it feel almost 'painted on,' because there's no tangible proof of it. It's there though... well, at least I hope to God it is.

I really, really want to be a guy. I can't explain why and the mere thought of it makes me worry (probably because of the prejudice I'll face), but I still wish I were Jayce.
Why did I not realize this back when I was 12, 13, when the girls in my class showed me a magazine full of male models and asked me if I 'thought they were hot?' And all I could think of, all I could ever think of, was "I want to look like that." I wanted that so badly. I never realized what that meant. I never gave it a second thought...
Right now, I need the small changes most of all... the voice switch, the body shape change, the beard (oh man why do I want one so much), the different face and hands and impression. What I'm scared of is the 'mental change;' the thing most trans men I've seen talk about, the fear that the testosterone will somehow overwrite a vital part of my personality, especially the stereotypically 'feminine' parts like my deep-rooted compassion and empathetic needs. I don't want to shoot myself up and suddenly slide over to a stereotypical male mindset. I want to look the part just well enough, but I want to be whoever the heck I want. If I want to seriously screw around with the gender perception of everyone who sees me then so be it.
I just want to be comfortable in my own shell for once in my life. I want to look in the mirror and smile because it fits, not because I'm treating that glassy countenance as a separate individual. That's how Natalie was born and died, you know...
Also, weird realization. You know how I like andro girls and that's it? Well, I think that if I became Jayce, my focus would suddenly switch to andro guys. Heck, 4 out of 5 people would probably think I was gay the moment they saw me. Ridiculous stereotypes... but anyway, what causes such a strange homoromantic tendency with me is my severe asexual/genophobic drive. Compatibility in the 'typical' (ech) aspect can only be achieved through two members of opposite sexes. I loathe that sort of 'compatibility' more than I can say, so I think I'm unconsciously leaning the other way.
Right now, I am looking for a girlfriend for that reason. Sadly, though, I need a near-clone of me more than anything. I seem to have developed my personality output to match what I need from other people, so if I could find someone who was outwardly incredibly similar to the real me (nice, compassionate, open-minded and creative, but also punky, explorative, eccentric and a total butch), I'd be incredibly happy. I just don't know where to look, haha. I should totally take out a personal ad... "google 'spinningcannon,' ladies(?), and if you identify strongly with that individual, give me a call." Panromanticism is a major plus, haha.
Back on track, though... since becoming Jayce would make me a man (although not physically; God willing I won't have anything at all down there), hanging around with the ladies (no matter how cute they are) would make me terribly nervous, I think. Even visualizing it makes me panicky. Why? It's simple... girl + guy = downstairs junk that I DO NOT WANT. So unless I hook up with a lesbian or a dude I'm in trouble, haha. Seriously, I'd have no problem with a gay guy as long as he wasn't... well, promiscuous. Heck, I can't stand promiscuity in anyone. I just really, really like gay dudes. It's probably just because I don't like the binary or gender stereotypes at all. I'm currently pretty darn butch so there you go.

Lastly... should I change my name?
I loathe my given name; oh man, you have no freaking idea how much I detest it. I just can't decide what to change it to.
My 'true' name, Jewel W. E. Lightraye, would fit perfectly BUT once I went 'male,' I'd hit a roadblock. I still call myself 'Jayce Lytraile' (clever clever) whenever I refer to my 'future' white-haired self, but still have the mental incident here and there where people refer to me as 'Jewel' and I'm fine with it. Huh.
I just... switching legally to Jewel while still trapped in this physical hellhole would feel horribly, horribly wrong. Yeah, I'm me, but this bag of bones isn't. I'm going to need to give it a total remodeling (and maybe a custom paint job) before I can go around switching up names to fit it.
Could I get two names somehow? Haha, that would be genius. I think I'd really like that.
...Maybe Jayce would work, actually. Think about it: Jayce is the name for my physical self, and Jewel is the name for my soul. It's still me. I think I'll do that-- as soon as I decide on my two new middle names, haha!

Well, Apollo only has 50 minutes left on his battery and I left his plug at Mel's house, so I suppose I should close up for now... maybe hand this entry over to Q and Mel so they can have a bit of an idea as to what's going on with me. I don't know. It's starting to make me horribly sick, thinking of them reading this and likely treating it like they would a newspaper. Just something 'fun' to read...
...See, there we go again. I've been mentally picturing myself as Jayce this whole time, and now that I'm trying to pull myself out of 'digital reality' and back into the 3D perception of this living room, I'm getting that sickening knowledge that my trial isn't over yet and I still have to suffer this current body a while longer. God, give me strength. I trust you, and I know you know what you're doing, but... please, help me out.

Trial is necessary. Tears are vital. Suffering is needed. Pain is indispensible.
My life has been written in minor keys, in chords that make you catch your breath because they sting so sharply; their sorrowful beauty strikes your very heart.
If the sky didn't cry, there'd be no rainbows and waterfalls... it's the truth, you know.
Oh man, there we go... tiny bit of heartbreak right there. Thank you Jeff Kessel.

25 minutes left on Apollo; 3:21PM. I feel like going to sleep and doing some overtime... that or dreaming with my eyes open. I just need a strangely beautiful escape.

I'm going to try to purify my heart again, to make myself as white as I once was.
One day I'll dye my hair to match.






When I was a little boy
I didn't know what was right or wrong
I had to change my way of life
But I just couldn't win the fight
I'd let myself float off in time and hide

Another day
Another night
I lived off dreams
I thought was right
I couldn't stand being treated like
I was the only one without rights
Stood there screaming out your voice
And cried

The way you loved me
Is not always what we call love
Waiting now, beautiful pain

In the dirt and in my soil
They said they planted seeds of joy
I was unholy, born in sin
So they fed me words of lead within
Then I looked down on myself in shame
Left with the blame

The way you loved me
Is not always what we call love
Waiting now, beautiful pain

Mother, father listen up
I know these times were kind of rough
We waited for the leaders hand to guide our lives
It's kind of sad
And you just did what you thought was right
And cried

 

 

 

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 



I traveled over 2000 miles to be here. I've never been so anxious in my life.
And yet my mind never stops. It feels like a strange ethereal jellyfish, blinking with billions of tiny lights and thoughts and hopes and fears. It's always gazing upward, always wondering. It never sleeps.

My mind shut down on Wednesday night. It took me quite some time to figure out why. At first I thought it was pure guilt... but it wasn't until five minutes ago that I realized the full extent of that numbing catalyst.
Let me break it down for you:
1) I am currently living in the same state as 2 individuals I care for very much.
2) Of those 2 individuals, one of them used to 'be in a relationship' with me, and is now in a very strong relationship with the other.
3) As a result of this connection between the two, I cannot show any sort of love to either of them without feeling like a criminal.
I don't ask for reciprocation, no. I simply ask to give. You know, "I don't want to be adored... I'd like to shine a light on your life, to make you feel loved."
No, I don't want to be the only one you know... but you already have a place you call home. I don't want to be that place either. All I ask is for you to realize, to acknowledge the fact that I will also stand true, that if you ever need someone to run to, I'll be here.
The fact that I am virtually barred from showing this to either of those individuals is highly painful. I was suffering so much from self-deprecation and crushing guilt that I just... shut down.

I've been uncomfortably numb for almost 5 days now, and it is terrifying. I don't know what to do.

Despite my current emotional walls, I can thankfully still think. Ironically, this awful numbness is the only thing keeping me relatively sane in light of my now disturbingly lucid mind.
I am over 2000 miles away from the place I've called 'home' for the past 2 decades, and it's only now that I finally realize what 'home' should feel like.
That thought has in turn opened my eyes to something else. Why should I call one tiny dot on the map 'home' and not another? We all live on the same planet... we all look up to see the same sky. In a sadly beautiful way, everywhere is home, and yet so many places feel alien and unwelcome to us.
As for myself, all I need are a few notebooks, enough cash to get me where I'm going, and the clothes on my back... that's all I need to settle down somewhere.
I was driving through Cottonwood Heights this morning and as I looked at the scenery around me, I asked myself why I felt so apprehensive. No, I'd never been there before... I knew very few people and places there, and if I had been left on a street corner I would have had no idea where to turn. And yet, we would all feel that initial fear upon arriving in a 'new' place. It's natural... we need our security, our comfort, our familiarity. We also forget that those things need to develop, with no exceptions.
That is the reason why I need my outside love. To me, that's the only thing I need to feel at home. My books, my music, my work... they all contain countless hours of that love. And yet there's something terribly intriguing about having another soul in your life to give love to as well.
That's why I'm suffering. That's why I'm so numb right now. I couldn't handle the relentless ache of keeping everything inside, of keeping everything hidden, when I finally had a possible chance to let it all out. I traveled 2000 miles and took so many risks just to be here, just to be here for them. I put everything on the line for their love, just to find that I could not give it back... that I could not free this relentless light trapped within my ribcage.
It began to burn, so I hid it.


Right about now, I'd give anything just to feel that pain again.

 

 

 

 



prismaticbleed: (shatter)



This is a very mature entry.
I just felt I should warn you; I've been wanting to write this stuff down for a while but I've been very nervous about it. It's controversial material, really, but here it is regardless.



So I've found a way to throw my empathy/catharsis through the roof.
Shock sites.
Yes, you heard me. But let's explain some history first.

Nowadays I am forced to spend my day working on computers, standing at a cash register for 7 hours, or researching subject after subject within voiceless pages. I often find myself listening to minimalist music until I lose track of time, getting lost in daydreams and altogether disconnecting myself from the world.
It's frightening, to be honest. I'll wake up some mornings and it'll take a while to realize that I'm actually seeing objects around me. I've been losing the feeling in my body, too. I'll touch things and the sensation is there, yeah, but I don't feel it. It's hard to explain. I'm aware of my sense of touch, but it's so dim that it doesn't register. I hope that makes sense.
Anyway, because of that, I often drift through life in a daze. I don't feel, I can't truly see, I don't eat. I hear things and forget them immediately. The only redeeming factor of my senses is that I talk to myself often, which keeps my auditory recognition from falling through completely.
Long story short, I unconsciously make myself almost immaterial, haha. I exist on sound and mental sight most days.
But... I'll be honest. Sometimes I find myself completely enthralled with the experience of physical sensation. I find it almost alien; something delicately frightening and amazing all the same.
I'll lock myself in the bathroom some days, and I'll just... I don't know. Do things. Not bad things, mind; but weird things. I'll turn off the lights and open the window, and maybe I'll just stretch for an hour. I'll stretch every muscle I can find, sometimes contorting myself so much that I don't know how I'll get out of it. Sometimes I'll find glitter in my mother's drawer and just cover myself with it; methodically, but naively. Sometimes I'll find a comb with a sharp edge, or a new razor blade, or some scissors, and I'll use them against my skin in whatever way I think of. Tiny little cuts, maybe just a thin scraping here or there, just barely enough to leave a little red line. Just a surface scar... it'll be gone in minutes. Then I'll make another one. They originated as a way to quiet Laurie, and that's when I used to bleed.
I don't bleed often; no, not at all. I only bleed when I'm not looking... at work, I'll handle a paper bag a little too carelessly, and suddenly there's a thin line of blood on my arm. I'll tear out a hangnail and watch my nail turn red, wondering in surprise at the sting. I'll drag a razor across my leg too quickly-- which happens often-- and within seconds that familiar red will appear, seemingly out of nowhere. I'll sit and watch it blend with the water, maybe. I never bandage them. I'm proud of my legs; they have the most scars.
Laurie is different. She's not fragile, she's not curious or white. She loves the other end of the spectrum; the sharp points... and she's clever. Almost beautifully, frighteningly clever. Her greatest accomplishment, she laughs, is outsmarting the doctors. You won't find any visible scars on my physical exams, no sir...
I love scars, yes. But Laurie knows about how dangerous they can be, and she won't give them to me; pain works better. That's where the story begins, back when the war started, back in 2008.
Some nights she would become very angry, and at 12AM with only the yellow light above the sink, she'd quietly lock the door and tell me to find that purple comb. That thin comb with the bit of torn plastic at the bottom. She likes that one because no one would ever suspect it... and it doesn't cut; no, it drags. It bites just enough to set nerves ablaze, leaving barely visible crosses that cause me to flinch and bite my lip against the shock. She'd leave one, two, twelve, waiting until I had to stop from the burn, and that would be it. We'd put everything away and quietly walk back out, the skin of my abdomen on fire with those tiny marks. Concentrate on the burn, she'd say. Concentrate on it. It's fire; it's punishment. Think of what you've done that causes such pain, and never do it again.
It didn't work the way we thought it would. At first it was great; I wasn't used to pain and I was scared. Both her and Julie's attacks would leave me shuddering on the floor, crying soundlessly and wishing I could just sleep it all off. But sleep wouldn't erase the past, and Laurie wouldn't let me get away without a lesson or two. It worked, and for several months I remained strong most days, afraid of her retaliation... but as the incidents added up, a sick trend began to appear. I began to force myself to give in to Julie, no matter how much it hurt, because I wanted that other sort of hurt. I wanted to feel physical pain. My daily life was becoming so monotonous, so devoid of the vivid moments I thrived upon, that I was turning to desperate measures. I would willingly torture myself just to feel the bite of that unorthodox razor, just to feel real pain, even if it was fleeting.
Laurie caught on quickly enough, and in a fury, refused to punish me any longer. If I screwed up, if I kept giving in, my guilt would be the only retaliation I would receive. It took me a while to stop; I was still so blind and desperate, and I kept pitifully looking for the pain, the sick reward I would receive for self-destruction. It never came.
It took a long time to stabilize, and then when we thought we had finally made progress, the attacks became mental... severe. They began to hit from the outside. I had no way of fighting it; attacks would ravage me in the form of unexpected art classes, in my mother's words, in every corner of the internet, in the pregnant women that would appear at work. In some instances I could quickly turn away, heaving, shaking, my arms wrapped tightly about my stomach... but most times I would be trapped in a classroom for two hours with a promiscuous professor, forced to stand by a woman whose stomach bore the result of an act I had nightmares about. I was no longer able to escape, and it was slowly driving me to the edge.
I began to abuse myself again... mentally, physically, emotionally. Most nights I would be locked in the bathroom again, where no one could see me, where no one would interrupt. I'd kneel on the floor and quietly sob, uncontrollably, terrified of the mirror, terrified of the body I was in, of the thoughts and words and pictures and expectations that went with it. That's when I started having the nightmares and the breakdowns. I couldn't escape. Everywhere I looked there was danger, danger, danger. I refused to give in or give up... so what could I do?
Then one day Laurie took me aside and looked at me with tired, solemn eyes. She only said a few words.
If you can't escape... you need to desensitize yourself.
That started it all.
It was hell; pure hell. I only wanted to run, but now I found myself with my legs chained to the wall, the horrors of the world directly before my eyes, and the only way to stay sane was to simply become blind to it.
Or so I thought.
I don't even want to talk about it here... but... I guess I have to.
It started very slowly; get used to mirrors. It made me so sick at first, but I trusted it would eventually change. What I didn't know is that in order to get through hell, I couldn't just turn around... I had to walk straight through the center of it first.
Julie saw her chance and became almost murderous. Her idea was that desensitization involved 'giving in.' She was wrong, but I was scared. I began to look at the dangers and wonder if maybe I was the one who was wrong. I was so painfully naive. I was too frightened to stand up for myself or fight back. I was so broken and had so little faith in myself that I figured that I deserved to suffer... so I did.
I began to force myself into the mindsets of others. It was so horrible... I began forgetting hours, days, sometimes weeks at a time just to save myself from the trauma. My self-image and mood hit an all-time low. I was almost chronically depressed, and for the first time in my life, began to honestly wonder if suicide was an option for me.
The most frightening thing about that entire time period for me, though, was that not only was I lost, but Laurie had no idea what to do. She'd scream at me, mentally tear me limb from limb, leave me crying and begging for another chance. Some times she'd ignore me, and leave me there to drown in guilt and desperation... but some times she'd listen. Those were the times that shook me.
Yes, I was hurting myself horribly. Yes, I was practically overriding my own moral code and personality. Yes, I was only doing it for the sake of 'fitting in to society' and doing what my family said was 'right' and 'normal.' But the fact that it hurt so damn much was scaring me to the point where I swore I'd never do such things again. Laurie would be silent, and then she'd uncertainly reply, well maybe that's a good thing. Maybe if you show yourself just how awful this is you won't have to worry about it getting to you? But there was no guarantee, and we were both at a loss.
It went on like that for a while, until the one night when I got so bad that I started sobbing again, asking myself why I was doing this. That's when Laurie showed up and told me she had seen enough. I wasn't desensitizing anything; I was causing myself horrid amounts of pain and compromising who I was. She then offered a different tactic: if I found myself trying to do that to myself again, I should run to her, and she'd take care of it. I wasn't sure if it would work, as I had turned pain into positive reinforcement, but... it did. Surprisingly enough, if I overloaded myself with the sharp physical pain I was addicted to, my sick need for the torturous mental and emotional pain would almost entirely disappear. I hit middle ground for a while, a sort of interim... I dulled my nights with pain until I couldn't take anymore, and I'd go to sleep dreading the morning.
I couldn't run forever, though, and I was still too weak to fight, so Julie took the most horrible route she could find... art. No, I had already run from the figure drawing classes, but she had a different idea. What if I should take them? What if my teachers were right? I should just bite the bullet and 'get used to it...' besides, that's what everyone else is doing. Everywhere you look, that's what people are drawing. So you should too.
I couldn't see how painfully wrong that was. You forget, I wasn't standing up for anything at this point. I was so confused that I was simply following whatever orders were given to me, because 'maybe they know better than I do.' I didn't realize that some people are corrupt, that some people would send me into hell for fun, that 'everyone else' didn't have the right idea after all. I didn't know that then... so I forced myself into it.
This is going to be very hard for me to talk about.
Trying to get used to what I saw in the mirror was one thing. Now I was forcing myself to see things I would never, ever have wanted to see. I began trying to figure draw... but it made me horribly sick. I kept doing it. It was at this point that I began to think I was a lesbian, because although I was horrified of men, I wasn't so disturbed by women. I didn't realize that this was because I was 'technically' used to that already (not to mention that women couldn't hurt my current form in the same ways men could, if you get my drift), and began to warp my personality further. Eventually, though, there was one 'good' aspect... I did become desensitized, but in the wrong way. I became 'used to it.'
I didn't want to be used to it.
I don't know what happened then... like I said, my memory would regularly 'purge' itself so there are literally frighteningly huge gaps in my recall of the past two years. I do know what's happened recently, though.
A month ago, I tried 'traditionally' cutting myself... got a razor and tried that. Unfortunately I couldn't get it to do anything unless I literally 'shaved off' a layer of skin. That would result in a painless, bleeding line, about 2mm wide and almost 3cm long. I gave myself two on my right arm, and was sorely disappointed by the lack of pain (other than the vague 'sting' when the blade cut deep enough to bleed; I recognize it instantly) until I tried to wash them out. It was almost euphoric, I'll sadly admit, and they bled like mad. I watched them for about 10 minutes before throwing a large bandage over them for three straight days (it took them that long to stop bleeding on and off).
I didn't want to go through the whole bandage ordeal just for a good painshock whenever I was near water, so I gave up on that immediately... and I haven't cut my stomach in quite some time too. However, although I've been going for long stretches of time lately without feeling the directionless need to hurt myself mentally, some days I still force myself to give in. It's become so awful though that I rarely go all the way through with it... and almost every time, intriguingly enough, I am interrupted. I'll be forcefully abusing myself and suddenly someone will knock, or the doorbell will ring, or a bug will smash into the window, or I'll simply come to my senses for a moment and think 'wait, why the heck am I still doing this to myself?!'
See, at this point you might be asking yourself 'if you're suffering so badly, and hate doing that to yourself so much, then why don't you just stop??'
I wish it were that easy; I truly do. However, for some sick reason, whenever I get that destructive 'urge,' I go into a sort of locked-up mindset. All I can think about is what I'll do to myself, and often times I disassociate. I'll be destroying my body or my mind and the entire time, I'll be cut off from all my immediate senses, and imagining that this is happening to someone else, maybe in a completely different way. It's scary. I honestly won't see, hear, or otherwise notice anything that's going on around me unless it strongly catches me off guard, hence why it's hard to break out of those bad states, those 'Julie hacks.' Maybe I'll imagine some poor child being mangled by an attacker, who's telling him that unless he lets them hurt him, they'll kill his family. Maybe it'll be one of my characters, caught up in some nightmare they can't escape from. Maybe it'll even be me in another form, me as a Celebi, being ravaged by some brutal Pokemon-catcher group. God only knows... but either way, once I finish up whatever I'm doing, I invariably end up in one of three situations... 1, curled up in the corner and sobbing hysterically, 2, standing in front of the mirror and screaming at it... maybe picking up another 'weapon' and 'punishing' myself in a vicious cycle (sometimes I turn on the faucet until the water is scalding, then burn my hands several times... one time I even hid a knife on the towel rack so I could saw at my chest with it)... or 3, silently walking out into the living room, lying down on the couch, and blankly staring at the wall. Thoughtless, numb. Unwilling to even remember. When I wake up tomorrow I won't recall the evening at all.
If I could turn off this horrid drive, I would have done so years ago. It's a day-by-day war for me.
However, two days ago, on Wednesday night, something happened. I 'lost' that night... I don't remember how, as usual, but I knew something had happened. Laurie confronted me later, she always does, but she wasn't screaming this time. She was tired, silently angry, and visibly determined. It's a hard expression to describe... the look you get when you've made a final decision on something, and you know there's no going back on it. Crossing the Rubicon. She told me once again to stop compromising myself, but then quoted FROST* at me.
"You're the one."
It's a new mindset for me lately... it requires a huge amount of faith, not in my 'self' so to speak, but in my purpose as a single individual, as a single soul. I'm the one. Before I wouldn't have even dared think that I could be significant, that I could be important... I was too concerned in meeting the fleeting whims and perversions of every blackheart around me. Now I'm stronger. Now I know who I am, I know what my limits and morals are. But now I can't stop thinking about the lyrics of that song that saved my life... that song that lifted me up, that made me fall in love again, that kept me from ending my life when I had truly hit rock bottom, the worst night and the best night of my entire life.

And you know, you'll always be the first in line.
And you know, it's all about the life divine.
A hero's ending, all the signs... you're the one, and the one you must survive.
And you know, it doesn't matter what you do.
And you know, the luck you feel will pull you through.
The never-ending light you find... you're the one, the one who must survive.


Faith, martyrdom, forgiveness, love, everything. There's no such thing as coincidence. I can't possibly begin to describe the multiple, deep meanings those lyrics hold for me, but the moment I first heard them whispered into my ears, on that black night as I contemplated the end, I knew more than anything that they were speaking to me.
To me. Only me.
I stopped walking then, I did. I stopped and my eyes teared up, and I swore to myself in that moment that I could not give up. It was a prospect I had never dared imagine... but if I must survive, then survive I would.
Laurie spoke those words to me again, as she does so often now, and I found myself swallowed up in guilt again, the guilt that, months ago, I numbly thought I would never feel again. Do you believe them, she asked? Do you believe those words are yours? Yes, I do. Her voice hardened. Then why don't you listen to them? If you're the one, then no one else knows what you should do. No one else's expectations apply to you. No one else can be you, and you know that.
I thought about that for a while. The freedom that would bring to me was almost incomprehensible. I was so used to living by a pre-written script, so to speak, that I hadn't dared to imagine what it would be like to just toss it aside and ad-lib for a while. Would the audience be shocked? Sure. They might even be scared, furious, offended that I would do so... I wasn't supposed to do that, not in their opinion. But I'd stand before them, wearing the wrong outfit for my assigned role, and speaking words that no soul in the auditorium had ever dreamed I would speak. But I knew, despite the rabble and rage, that I was the only one who could do this, and if I didn't have the guts to do what I knew was right, then God help me but then all would be lost. That's the mindset I have now, and as I fell asleep that night, I wondered why I couldn't just live it and to heck with all this pain I was inflicting upon myself.
On Wednesday night I dreamed of hell, and it scared me more than any other nightmare had ever dared. I was safe that day, but only because I was shaking with fear, terrified of what I might inflict upon myself. It was a sort of sick drive... I was so shaken that I wouldn't let myself think of anything else. But I couldn't possibly go on like that forever...
It wasn't until I woke up Friday morning, my Celebi doll in my arms, that I found it... a working solution. See, I needed motivation. Not something fleeting and yet unrefined, like this basic will I had... I needed something else there, something better than scars, something more painful than blood, something I couldn't possibly break. That's what I realized when he spoke to me.
My guardian angel, Chaos Zero. He'd been showing up in almost every one of my recent dreams, always protecting me, always asking me if I was okay. It had struck me as unusual, as he's typically a rare sight, but it seemed this time he had a reason.
I have been thinking about him quite often lately... and always in negative situations. What if he and I were turned against each other? What if one of us forgot who the other was? What if he went Perfect again, and I couldn't figure out how to save him? The only solutions I could possibly imagine all centered around one thing, one final, desperate chance... and it was the same solution, the same final decision he confronted me with in those early morning hours, still reeling from my visions of hell, still desperately looking for a way out.
I know what you've been going through lately. I know how scared you are, he said. He's always known. I know how much you hurt, and I won't let you do this to yourself any longer. But how could he help me? I've tried everything I can think of. That's when he looked at me, and I recognized the same expression Laurie had worn a few days ago. They had been speaking... they had thought of something. I knew it in that instant, and I was simultaneously full of hope and fear. What have you decided?
'If you love me, if you love anyone, you'll stop doing this.'
An ultimatum. One I couldn't possibly break.
I wondered why they hadn't given it to me before, but then I remembered how weak I was, how willing I was to toss everything away. I remembered that day I decided my life was beyond saving, and I remembered waking up the next morning.
Patience is a virtue. It was a matter of waiting, of suffering, of not giving up until that exact moment, that last second when the light suddenly broke through.


Shock sites.
I started visiting them a few months ago, during the 'rebuilding' stage, when I was beginning to find myself again. The first step was coming to terms with what I truly wanted, and what the hidden motive was behind all this pain I was causing myself. It took a good deal of self-introspection and painful analyzation, but I think I've found it. Ironically, it's the exact thing that started all this.
I need pain. Oh yes, I need it. I need moments of extreme, gut-wrenching emotion, that shatter everything around you and force your perspective to change. Pain.
I was getting it confused with other things for so long; awful things that lied, that pretended to be what I needed. I started looking into 'dark' pages during my failed desensitization stage. I tried to force myself to take on the worst and simply get used to that. I stopped at Dramatica a few times, but always ran from there quickly... it was too dangerous. However, I did find Documenting Reality, and that helped more than I realize. It was a site full of blood and horror; awful gory things that I suppose some people get a kick out of looking at. Not me. For me, DR was a place where I could look into the darkest, most painful aspects of life and really think about them. That was not me suffering... that was some other poor soul, someone I had never met and now never would. There were men mangled beyond recognition... young women lying dead with blood pooling around them... suicides, murders, diseases, everything. I slowly began to feel again. No, I was not sickeningly amused, no, I was not looking upon their broken bodies just for kicks. I was actually feeling... empathy, pity, some sick sort of understanding.
Let's cut to the chase. There's no way I can tell you everything that happened to me over the past two years; like I said, most of that is now lost to me, scratched out of my memory in hysteric moments I'm ironically glad I've forgotten. But I can tell you what the end result was.
I was never truly desensitized, and I was never truly 'used to it' either.
Today I found a video of a man beheaded. I told myself to watch it, not to 'numb myself' to it, but to feel it. The exact opposite of my old method. So I watched. I saw the shirtless man bound, blindfolded, seated under a dim light and surrounded by four men... covered in black, holding guns, faceless. I could not understand their speech, but it continued, almost businesslike, for 75 seconds, as I watched anxiously. At 1:15, one of the men pulled out a knife, and suddenly the three others were holding the blindfolded man, pulling his head backwards. That's when the man began to plead. I don't know who this man was, what he did, or why he was about to die, but I could hear every note of fear in his voice, and my heart broke. I waited fearfully for a few more seconds, and at 1:23, there was a sudden movement and a scream. I won't go into details, no, but my entire body was frozen in empathetic horror... my muscles knotted, my knuckles against my lips, eyes wide and fists tight. I've seen many disturbing things at this point in my life, but I have never flinched so hard. I could barely watch the next three minutes, but I forced myself to anyway... not because I was expected to, not because I had been told to, but because this was real, this was wrong, and I knew it.
Catharsis. Extreme emotion. The pain I need.

There's one more thing I want to bring up, because it's what triggered this.
I've been accused of being sexual more than once, and I don't know why. That confusion is what played the largest role in my desensitization attempt, and it was difficult to deal with. Remember I mentioned the figure drawing? Yeah, I literally put myself through that. Art class forced me to deal with unclothed individuals, and I was terrified-- still am-- but at that point, I still thought it would 'help' if I forced myself to look at them regardless. Let me summarize that experience for you: I did not enjoy it at all, and there was no sexual anything. That's right, I'd be looking straight at some gal and I'd be wondering how the heck anyone would be attracted to that in the first place. At first I was fine with that. Then I brought it up to my mom and therapists, and they said something was wrong with me. So I started trying to 'force' myself (again; what was wrong with me??) to see something in it, although the very thought of it made me ill. That was the lesbian stage, yes. But then I discovered Jena, and something weird happened. Yeah, I could just barely handle the figure drawing thing, but I didn't know those people. The art objectified them, which I loathed. But Jen? Forget it; I love her, and she's not taking her shirt off around me. See the difference? Having that direct, intense conflict between what I was feeling and what I was being told to feel forced me out of that stage pretty darn fast. Sure, I'd still have my moments of 'but what if they're right?', I'll admit it, but ultimately it all came down to what I was unwilling to compromise, ironically.
I've discovered one other thing during all that nonsense, which is what played directly into my weird obsession with actual sensation lately. I am still oddly attracted, albeit non-sexually, to certain girls. I don't know why, but it might be that, with guys, it feels 'wrong' because that's the sort of body I wish I had. So it's like a mirror, or something. I really have no idea. It's probably just aesthetics and not a gender thing at all. That sounds more accurate.
Still, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm omniromantic, meaning that I am able to fall in love with anyone in terms of gender/species/what have you, but if you look into other aspects, things start to change a bit.
I am physically attracted to very, very few individuals. Yes, I do think Celebi and metallic cyborgs are amusingly attractive in the physical sense. I'll also be brutally honest and admit that I find Chaos Zero to be one of the most gorgeous beings I've ever seen. However, although I've never felt any sort of physical attraction for men (when I see one I actually think 'I wish I looked like him,' instead), I still have this unusual weakness for boyish girls. Throw in short hair and a bit of boniness in the right places and I am literally hooked. It's really weird.
Personally, I don't know how you guys define physical attraction, but for me it just means I am aesthetically drawn to a certain body shape/ structure/ whatever. That's a given, I suppose, but... well, this is odd for me.
Yes, I am asexual. No matter how much I'm 'attracted' to someone, that will always come into play. I may joke about it, but it's the honest truth when I say that I probably could never realistically 'be with' a curvy woman, aka what I view as a 'typical' female. The whole chest size thing that some guys obsess over? It scares me. I can't handle sexuality, even if one doesn't act upon it. If you're visibly showing something that I perceive as sexual, such as a large chest or a promiscuous outfit or big hips, I will likely act a bit panicky around you. This doesn't mean I can't love people like that, I just... physically I'm going to be frightened. It's just how I run, sadly. Still, that doesn't explain the last bit of a problem I'm having.
I don't like being touched, but I make exceptions for friends. However, as long as I don't perceive a threat, my personal space can get ridiculously tiny. Even at work, if I have to get change at customer service and there's some other person standing there, sometimes I'll find myself three inches away from leaning on him/her, ha. The only way I can explain this is that, although I don't like things like primal instincts and all that, 95% of the time I consciously feel this very deep spiritual connection to all other people. I can't hurt people, nothing like that, no matter what my mind does, which is why I'm very scared of being hurt and tend to be obsessively paranoid about it outside of my 'safe zones.' It makes no sense to me, that a person could want to hurt another person. But I digress...
Here's the list. 1-I'm asexual. 2-I typically like boyish girls. 3-I have a smaller personal space (within reason) around people I trust or don't perceive as dangerous. 4-I tend to be slightly obsessive when it comes to actually perceiving the world around me (there's even an entire entry dedicated to that point in this journal). See all that? Put it together, and I guess you get what I've noticed.
I've seen girls without anything on, unfortunately (but not in real life, heck no). I don't like it. However, you know the andro point I keep bringing up? Well, if I see a girl with a small chest and no visible... um, femininity (in body shape or whatever), I will actually have almost no problem with it, as long as it stays nonsexual. I'm not 'aroused,' but I'm not numb, either. I get this weird thing; that perception thing.
See, I like the deepest elements of things, the most truly personal things. I like bones, I like scars, I like tendons and veins and freckles and eyes and the way people move. I'm asexual, but... I'm addicted to intimacy. Extreme intimacy. You ever wonder what Chaos Zero and I mean when we talk about '2005?' Yeah. That's basically it.
I have this weird addiction to fragility, to things people take for granted, to hidden things, to secrets. I get it for most things, really, and sometimes it'll hit hard and out of nowhere. It's the reason why, when I got Apollo (my Macbook), I first looked through every file I could find on him, learned what everything on his keyboard was, put my nose up to his screen just to see the individual pixels... turned him off, turned him over, took him apart. Looked at every little piece. Put him back together and memorized every different texture on him. Details. I do it to music, too... I'll listen to the same song, over and over, for hours... maybe repeating the same two seconds just to hear a certain chord, or a certain echo, or the way his voice cracks, or the way she breathes in, or the way I can hear the musician's finger touch a string on that one note. Maybe I'll just listen to every instrument individually, maybe I'll just hold my headphones against my ears, close my eyes, and lose myself.
I'm not typically 'logical' or analytical about it. Sometimes I will sit and think about something small and strange until my head spins, yes, but that's an entirely different thing. I don't know what causes this addiction of mine, really, because it encompasses every sense sometimes. Sight, touch, and sound are huge. They overwhelm me most days.
But... that strange need, sometimes I get it with people. I get it with those girls, the ones I feel close to.
I'll want to memorize the exact color of her eyes, the way her hair feels through my fingers. I'll want to run my fingers over her shoulder blades and feel her heart beat and listen to the way her breath catches sometimes. Is that romantic? I don't know what to call it; it's almost a drive. It's like I need to feel that even if I can't explain why.
It gets really bad, almost desperate, if it's with someone I love intensely-- although I do become more scared when I'm around them. I'm just so addicted to fragility, if that's even the right word. It's the same reason I used to hide a stethoscope in my room as a child, and when I was sure the door was locked I'd just listen to my own chest for a few minutes, until I was shaking from the overwhelming being of it. Just the way it was, simply. I don't know how to explain it. To this day my heart is still the most intimate thing about me, ever. It's also an extremely meaningful theme in all my work. Look for it.
I don't know what I'd do if someone here felt that same sort of need with me, that innocent intimacy. It's always one sided. Always one sided.
Maybe it's simply because I don't feel I exist in the physical world, not genuinely. Maybe it's because I don't see myself as a 'lover' or 'partner,' just a compassionate and selfless observer. But I don't want to be seen back.
I only want the other person to know that they are deeply loved, that's all.
Could I make the exception for someone else? Could I ever identify with this form briefly enough to let anyone else near it?
Perhaps I am destined to be forever disconnected by a thin wall of glass.
Something like that. What is it?


There's so much I still haven't said, which is beautifully funny. I've already said so much!
Still, maybe that'll be a topic for next time. Dreams. You never know.

I hope you all have a beautiful night.








Train whistles, a sweet clementine
Blueberries, dancers in line
Cobwebs, a bakery sign

Oh, a sweet clementine
Oh, dancers in line

If living is seeing
I'm holding my breath
In wonder, I wonder
What happens next?
A new world, a new day to see

I'm softly walking on air
Halfway to heaven from here
Sunlight unfolds in my hair

Oh, I'm walking on air
Oh, to heaven from here

If living is seeing
I'm holding my breath
In wonder, I wonder
What happens next?
A new world, a new day to see



 

 

 

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)


05 May 2010 @ 12:23 pm

I just found myself playing Sonic Adventure, walking through Mystic Ruins with Amy and trying not to burst into tears. What's going on?

I've been having an awesome week, things are going well and I've been in a consistently good mood... but I'm also more emotionally fragile-- even to extremes-- than I've been in months. I don't know what's going on.



05 May 2010 @ 10:18 pm

They've found me again.
Ever since they discovered that I was the one, they've been trying to kill me. It's frightening, because they get so close, and I can't lose my light. It's all I have.

I remember when I learned that they were killing the unicorns... locking them in the windows. They were using me to lure in more. Thank God I ran.

Sometimes I see hunters on the streets. I know by the way they look at me, checking to see if I've darkened. I don't know if I have. It terrifies me.



09 May 2010 @ 02:00 am 

I looked up into the mirror and saw Johnny where I should have been.

Needless to say, I'm terrified.

 

 

09 May 2010 @ 02:07 am

She hurt me. I'm bleeding.


I'm so scared of this. Why won't she leave?

 

 

11 May 2010 @ 11:55 pm

Oh geez, heartache. This is... this is really bad.

I can't tell forgiveness from pain, either. I don't hate myself for this, not anymore; it was completely unintentional... but it hurts, it hurts so much.

Don't know whether I should laugh or cry at how ridiculous my life is sometimes. Better than being coldhearted I guess.

 

 

10 May 2010 @ 09:01 am

Ever have those days where you're so in love, that everything just hurts in some beautiful way?

Yeah. Got that right now. ♥
 

@ 09:24 am

I don't even know what you are,

and I love you more than anything I've ever seen.

 

 

11 May 2010 @ 11:58 pm

I hurt all over.

Where have I been?

 


17 May 2010 @ 10:53 pm

Why do I always feel like I'm stuck in an interim? Always between the past and the future... never truly in the present... a time-traveler forever looking for the moment they belong in.

I don't know. It's just eating at me today.



24 May 2010 @ 12:14 pm

Found a new J-Monster today, made a good deal of story progress, talked to Mel for hours, and got nose-to-nose with my neighbor's chihuahua without him trying to bite me!

And yet, despite all the good things, I still feel kind of sad. Empathy, you know.

Yes, the soul needs suffering to grow, but... sometimes it just seems way out of hand, and it hurts me terribly.

One day I'll have to tell all of my secrets too.

 

27 May 2010 @ 10:53 am

My dream last night was the closest thing to hell I've ever experienced.
It wasn't fire and brimstone, no... but dear God, if the real thing is even a fraction like that was...

I'm even scared to write it down. I don't know what to do.

 




art class

Oct. 20th, 2008 10:07 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

I have two words to say about all this.

F*cking HELL.

Do you have ANY IDEA how hard Laurie and I
are trying to fight this sort of thing?

(I'm getting sick every time I even think of art now)

Julie doesn't die easily!
And here you are
throwing THIS at us
on top of it all.

Shit.
Just because I can't stand men
doesn't mean I like women
SERIOUSLY.
I can't stand ANY of it.

I swear,
you make me draw ONE MORE MODEL
I am going to SNAP
and that won't end well.

DAMN IT, JULIE, WHY WON'T YOU DIE??



Mom won't let me
cut my hair
like Johnny
because she says that
everyone will think that
I'm a lesbian.

Well I SWEAR
the FIRST person
to call me a lesbian
is getting MY FIST
in their f*cking FACE

...well maybe not.
I couldn't hit anybody.

BUT I'LL HIT ME
DAMN STRAIGHT I'LL HIT ME
I'LL HIT ME UNTIL I BLEED




I really wish that I could fall asleep
and get lost in my head
not wake up for a long time.
(go somewhere better)


Z?
THE ETERNAL QUESTION!

Sure I like dreams
but seriously
BIOLOGY SUCKS
and humanity
makes me sick
(sometimes)
quite often

IT'S NOT A VERY NICE
FEELING
(LOSING YOUR MIND)
YOU KNOW?

It always seems to happen
when you get BLOOD
on your hands.

human blood.
your own blood.

something
SNAPS
and then that's it.

that's how Devi went
that's how I went



the screws
have come
undone


YOU CAN'T STOP IT.





So yeah.
I lost my mind
(for good)
two weeks ago
and I have had ENOUGH of this idiocy


(this is ART not PORNOGRAPHY)
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU


shit here she comes again.
I can't take two more hours of this.


 


our father
who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name
may your kingdom come
and your will be done
in all worlds
as it is in heaven
give us this day
our daily bread
and forgive us our sins
as we forgive those
who sin against us
but then what do I do
if I can forgive all of them
but find it so hard
to forgive myself?
I should be better
so why the hell am I worse?
and lead us not
into temptation
(especially the ones
our headvoices
put into our heads
whether we want them or not)
and deliver us
from evil
in all its forms
especially
ourselves.

amen

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)



The last ten minutes.



Q came over today. As soon as he walked in the door, Laurie went nuts. She must have spat frantic curses at least ten times in ten seconds.
I told her to please be quiet, then my mother practically dragged us out there to say hello. I took Rorschach with me for comfort, haha. That's why I'm glad he's 'hidden' in a book-- it's hard to smuggle a reassurance around without people getting all 'hmmm.'
That is also why I'm upset that I can only majorly do that by taking the Sonic Adventure 2: Battle instructions wherever I go, and then people would really start to wonder what the hell I'm up to, especially if I keep flipping to a certain page and staring at a certain blue guy with a look of desperate compassion. You know me.

Today went much better than I expected... for one reason.
I lived this entire day as a friend. Not a girlfriend, and not a lover, no sir.
I'm a friend. That's all. I'm not comfortable with anything else.
I thought everyone knew that...


DDR, random reminiscing with the parents (that was awesome), watching "Backstroke of the West" for almost an hour and laughing like maniacs, talking about sunsets and sketchbooks on the way back to his hotel.

And then I hit a major snag.


Today went pretty darn well... with one exception.

The porch.
Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it. Why wasn't I thinking???

If I tell this kid everything, it will be the figurative equivalent of taking his heart, ripping it to shreds, setting those shreds on fire and then letting Laurie have her fun with the remains.
The way he talks, and what he says... it's obvious how he feels, and that makes me panic.

I'm very, very uneasy and nervous because I think he wanted me to kiss him, and I want to be a kissing virgin as well as the other kind, yessir. I'm a neutrois celibate, for the love of heaven; you have to expect at least that much of me. (Plus I think kissing is disgusting if you think about it.)
I hugged him to make up for it, but that just made me feel really bad... like taking a homeless man and showing him a mansion that he can never, ever have. It's cruelty, even if I didn't mean it that way.

A soul only clings so desperately to what he cannot have.

I don't know where that phrase came from, but it's been echoing through my head all evening.
I don't know if it's true, but it scares me, and it's sobering nevertheless.


In other news.
I'm exhausted, I have Chaos Zero on my mind and David Bowie on my headphones (yeah!), and I need to get to sleep so I can listen to more Latin choir music at 2AM and wake up at 7AM with a killer headache and no memory of what I dreamed about save a strange attribute of significance to that fact. Happened last night!

But yes. Spinny needs her sleep, darn it.

...
I need to pray more. I really do.
I need to pray for Laurie to stop hijacking my consciousness, even though I love her.
I need to pray for more people to notice the onyx ring on my left ring finger.
I need to pray that I stop letting people down and breaking people's hearts.
I need to pray that I can somehow get my soul back to what it was like 6 years ago.
I need to pray that I can live better.


I refuse to give up my chance of salvation.
I'm just scared that I'm putting it in jeopardy without realizing it.



Also, I gave away far too many hints.
Yeah, I'd be talking to Q and I'd be all, "oh, I posted that somewhere else, I'm sorry..." I'm terrified that he's going to Google me and find this thing.
If he does, I hope he never tells me. I don't want to know, and I want to hold on to the hope that he won't find this for a long, long time, if at all.

Once again, the universe loves me.
"Link" by L'Arc~En~Ciel on my headphones.
The irony stings, but it's a nice sort of irony.
I don't know. I'm just weird like that.

I'm just... sad, that's all.


I don't know how to fix who I am.
Not yet.
And it scares me.





Can't I just have one day?
One day, free from the restraints of reality and physicality?
Can't I just have one day, lucid, in my mind, with the souls I want so desperately to see again?



But no matter how hard I hope and pray, I don't know if that wish will ever come true.

For if it ever does, the following lack of it will tear my heart to pieces from the inside out.


It's like showing a mansion to a homeless soul.
I may love every second I'm there, and I may hope with all my heart that I never have to leave...
...But once my time is up, I might not ever be able to go back, and then I will be blessed and cursed with a beautiful memory that may remain a memory for the rest of my life.

Nothing on earth ever lasts forever.
And just because I want something badly enough doesn't mean it's going to happen.




Even so...

...I hope to God it will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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