the spectrum heart cathedral system

alter entry. YEAH WE'RE NOT DEAD.



AND HEY GUESS WHAT I'M FINALLY GONNA COMMENT ON THIS.

 

 

from february 8th, 2019, "TBAS" online entry.

apparently we saved it to our computer because it hurt like hell and left it untouched.

well GOD KNOWS I WISH WE HAD BEEN LEFT UNTOUCHED, but that's the very reason why I'm about to spit bitter vitriol all over this garbage heap. so let's go.

 

"LC deleted their spotify account. Was wondering if they would."

YEAH BECAUSE IT WAS FULL OF VERY BAD MEMORIES, most notably ALL THE GARBAGE WE SHOVED IN THERE "OBLIGATORILY" BECAUSE OF YOU.
it hurts so much to hear this said so casually. like mel when we were suicidal. "yeah we expected this, ho hum, life goes on." not realizing what such a huge deletion entails. no concern, no compassion. just "eh, it was bound to happen."

"Shame because they had hundreds of playlists, stuff for every single System member, but we saw this coming months ago and saved every one that was personally meaningful to us, so they’re all still there in our account."

THE SHEER ARROGANCE OF THAT STATEMENT HAS ME SEEING RED
OH YEAH WE ONLY SAVED WHAT WAS MEANINGFUL TO US!!! NEVERMIND THE ACTUAL SOULS THAT INSPIRED THESE LISTS, NEVERMIND WHAT IT MEANT TO THEM, TO THEIR HEARTS, NOPE!!!!! WE;RE BLINDLY SAVING IT AND STICKING OUR OWN LABEL OVER IT, ERASING ALL ITS ORIGINAL MEANING, JUST LIKE YOU NEVER EXISTED, GOOD RIDDANCE !!!

THAT RIGHT THERE IS SOLID PROOF THAT THIS WAS ONLY EVER ABOUT YOU!!!!!

(why am I so angry)

this was only ever about you. I see that now. you only cared about your OWN personal relevance, not ours, because that's all that mattered to you, and that's why WE mangled our OWN musical preferences to ENTERTAIN YOU.

just so you could shrug "oh well" when we disappeared and keep everything that pleased you.

"Still with our own art as their icon. They’ll probably never use that one again, will they."

No! We won't! AND I HOPE YOU REMEMBER HOW WE WERE ACTUALLY FURIOUS AT THAT ARTWORK (even though we (cowards) never said so for courtesy's sake) BECAUSE YOU UTTERLY DISREGARDED HOW WE ACTUALLY LOOKED, AGAIN, FOR YOUR OWN TWISTED PLEASURE. "artistic liberty" DON'T GIVE ME THAT JUNK. we were just so fawningly thrilled to have someone draw us that we didn't DARE speak up that IT DIDN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE US. "take what you can get," even if it's not anything you need. even if it's no good for you. like drinking vinegar when you're dehydrated. like gorging on paper when you're starving to death, because someone sprinkled sugar on it. that was our whole life with you. it hurts so much to admit now, when the coast is clear, and we're no longer in danger. but we were drinking your saccharine toxins for too long.

"It’s just sad. Literally all they have left, I’m pretty sure, is their Aywas account. They have had that one since 2010 and I doubt they’ll delete it even now."

YOU UNDERESTIMATE OUR DETERMINATION TO ANNIHILATE ALL THE TRACES OF THIS HELL.
also, WHAT KIND OF GALL IS THAT, TO ACT LIKE YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW WE'LL ACT?????
it's just like slc. just like it. "ONLY WE know the REAL you!!!!" "so let US dictate your life" basically. what is WRONG with you, what is wrong with US that we BELIEVED YOU and FELL FOR IT????

 

"Just, what’s the point of deleting everything?"

WHAT DO YOU THINK???????? WHY DOES ANYONE FORGET ANYTHING? WHY DO PEOPLE DISSOCIATE? WHY DO I HAVE A DISASTROUS MENTAL ILLNESS IN THE FIRST PLACE, ARE YOU THAT BLINDLY IGNORANT?????????

"We can guess, paranoia"

...looks like the answer is yes. i'm stunned.

honestly, you're projecting. hard. we're not paranoid, otherwise we wouldn't be keeping everything open and candid and public for years.

NO, WE'RE ASHAMED OF WHAT WE DID AND LET HAPPEN WHILE LIVING WITH YOU, AND WE WANT THAT HORROR ERASED.

as for everything in the past, well… it all led to you. it was all garbage, in our eyes, all the delusions and selfish rambling and lies and heresies and nonsense. yes there was some gold in there. but I will never leave that out again for someone like you to rifle through and pickpocket at your own pleasure. go jump in a bloody lake. we erased everything because it was worth sacrificing the small good for the sake of protecting the huge good. it was worth deleting everything that could cause even more trauma, for the sake of protecting our personal history for our own sake alone.

"hyperreligiousness turning everything else into something that’s keeping you from doing your religion properly, etc..."

THIS, THIS RIGHT HERE, IS THE ONE THING ABOUT YOU THAT INFURIATES ME THE MOST.

the instant I did something that you didn't like, the response i'd get-- outright or with silent subtlety- was always, "OH IT'S YOUR RELIGION AGAIN."
STOP ACTING LIKE OUR RELIGION WAS THE SOURCE OF OUR PROBLEMS, YOU PAGAN HYPOCRITE.
JUST BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T OUR "IDOL" DIDN'T MEAN EVERY OTHER "GOD" WAS A CURSE.

"abrahamic religion is really good at turning anything it wants into something that’s “against god”. Anything."

SOUNDS LIKE YOU NEVER EXAMINED YOUR CORRODED CONSCIENCE.

"anything it wants." good lord. you are so completely deluded. so oblivious and thoughtless and foolish.

imagine this, that when we went home and took a GOOD HARD SANE CONSCIOUS LOOK at ALL THE WHITEWASHED-TOMB TRAUMA WE WENT THROUGH WITH YOU, FOR YOU, ABOUT YOU, ETC… we realized that YEAH, IT WAS ALL AGAINST GOD!!!

oh, no, you can't have that! you can't possibly be responsible in any way, for anything but the most wonderful results!! everything you do is pure and perfect and pleasant!! no, it "must just be your religion making 'what it wants into a sin'!!!!"

you know what the REAL reason is?

A HELL OF A LOT OF THINGS IN THIS WORLD ARE AGAINST GOD.

AND I TRAGICALLY COULDN'T SEE THAT WHEN I WAS LIVING WITH YOU BECAUSE IF I DID, I WOULD HAVE LITERALLY BAILED WITHIN FIVE SCREAMING SECONDS OF WALKING IN YOUR FRONT DOOR.

DON'T THINK YOU KNOW HOW WE WOULD ACT. DON'T ACT LIKE YOU KNOW OUR THOUGHTS.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT THE WORST OF IT BECAUSE WE NEVER WROTE IT DOWN, FOR FEAR OF YOU.
 

"But really… would we be happier if they were still posting every single day about how much they hated us? No. We’re left in peace. We would be incapable of not reading their journal if they still posted every day like they used to."

I find this sadly ironic. "We're at peace!!!!" YEAH, AND THAT'S NOT ALWAYS A GOOD THING.

We, also, kept visiting your journal periodically, to see what you wrote about us. But now that we can't, are we at peace? Are we happier? NO, HECK NO, BECAUSE NOW WE DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION SO WE CAN FIGURE OUT HOW TO SOMEHOW FIX THIS.

Sounds like you didn't ever care about fixing ANYTHING.

"For a while they were just blaming us for everything wrong in their life, having nightmares about us every single night, and with good ol’ oneirataxia, unable to tell that the nightmares weren’t actually the truth of what happened with us. Or rather, blaming “NC”. But clearly blaming us for bringing them there. Ya know."

Listen, if you can't see how you blithely manipulated an emotionally fragile, people-pleasing, identity-shifting traumatized deluded idiot from Pennsylvania into BEING SO FRANTICALLY DESPERATE TO "BE YOUR FRIEND" THAT I WAS WILLING TO SAW MY OWN RIGHT ARM OFF AND FLY OUT TO NC JUST TO "PROVE I WAS NICE AND CARED ABOUT YOU" then you are even more deluded than I am.

"Blaming us for everything wrong in their life." Now that's hyperbole at its worst. You're not the cause of our sexual trauma, our eating disorder, our flashbacks, our dissociation, etc… BUT GUESS WHAT? YOU SURE AS HELL MADE IT A HELL OF A LOT WORSE.

So no, we're not shoving the blame onto you. We're CALLING YOU OUT FOR BEING DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR SEVERELY EXACERBATING EXISTING PROBLEMS, WHICH-- AND GET THIS-- YOU EXPLICITLY KNEW ABOUT THE ENTIRE TIME.

Oh, and absolutely pull the "you don't know what's really real!!!!" gasoline-fire card on us again, go right ahead!!!

WE KNOW THE NIGHTMARES AREN'T LITERALLY REAL, YOU BUFFOON. BUT GUESS WHAT??? WE ONLY HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT CERTAIN THINGS BECAUSE THERE WERE CERTAIN HORRIBLE THINGS THAT INEVITABLY GAVE US NIGHTMARES.

I am literally enraged at your willful ignorance here. "Good ol' oneirataxia" SHOVE OFF. You self-focused stooge.

What were our nightmares about? 1. Being stuck in NC and not being able to go home, which, like it or not, buddy, was the actual awful truth. Just because we were too fatally good at hiding our feelings UNTIL you went to work (at which point we unraveled into suicidal hell for twelve godforsaken hours) doesn't mean we WEREN'T ACTUALLY FEELING THOSE THINGS.

2. Sexual trauma. Oh we know you didn't "rape us." Those nightmares are very different. HOWEVER. You sure as hell passively but insistently coerced us into rewriting our entire wreck of a personality TO APPEASE YOUR DESIRES because "I love you!!!!" (no you don't, not if that is how you see "love") you and that hellish fine print, "I have sex with the people I love!!!!!" YOU ONLY EVER WANTED TO F*CK US AND IT SENT US STRAIGHT TO HELL. WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN NEVER TO TRUST ANYONE WHO USES THAT DEMONIC WORD TO DESCRIBE """LOVE""""". NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN PLEASE I NEVER WANT TO HEAR THOSE WORDS EVER AGAIN I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LET YOU DO THAT TO US GOD FORGIVE ME BUT I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR BURNING THAT HELL INTO OUR LIFE

by which I mean, I hate myself for not punching you in the face the INSTANT you tried to touch us and taking the next plane home.
why did i let you touch us. why did i give you the """benefit of the doubt""" that sent us into damnation. why did i ignore my own screaming conscience and deathtrap instincts, and act like a smiling ragdoll around you????

Do you remember the incident on the porch? Of course you don't, you hedonist. How you, for some absolutely inane cursed reason, wanted to """"touch us""""" (BURN IT ALL) so!!! we just laid back and took it. and we said "it's fine!" and you said "no this isn't """CONSENSUAL"""" so I'm going to stop" OH SO SUDDENLY IT IS """"CONSENSUAL"""" IF OUR "LYING BACK AND TAKING IT" IS ACCOMPANIED BY THE PROPER SMILES AND WORDS AND GESTURES AND SOUNDS AND MOTIONS???? SO IF WE'RE REALLY DAMN GOOD AT ACTING AND DISSOCIATING AND DOING WHATEVER THE HECK YOU WANT BECAUSE SAYING NO WAS NOT A SAFE OPTION WITH YOU, YOU WHO TOLD US THAT OUR FAMILY HATED US AND WANTED TO KILL US AND THEREFORE YOU WOULD NEVER LET US GO BACK HOME EVEN THOUGH WE WANTED TO AND THEREFORE WE HAD TO STAY WITH YOU NO MATTER WHAT AND UTTERLY ABSOLUTELY MINIMIZE EVERY TINY POSSIBLE THREAT OF OFFENDING YOU SO WE WOULDN'T END UP HOMELESS OR TERRIFIED OF BEING STUCK IN YOUR APARTMENT, GOOD LUCK WITH THAT--- IF WE'RE REALLY DISTURBINGLY GOOD AT APPEASING YOU BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT TRAUMA SURVIVORS DO TO SURVIVE, THEN SUDDENLY IT'S """CONSENSUAL"""" BECAUSE IT LOOKS JUST LIKE HOW YOU WANT IT TO??? EVEN IF THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE WE DIDN'T HAVE THE STRENGTH TO FIGHT YOU??????????

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED WITH Q, THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED WITH BP, EXCEPT YOU TOOK IT ALL THE WAY TO HELL AND LEFT US LOCKED IN THERE.

It's not "oneirataxia," it's not "good," and it sure isn't "old" in this case, thanks to you. The nightmares are the result of our poor traumatized subconscious trying desperately to process the sheer unbearable terror of the FACT that THAT HAPPENED. so we had nightmares. you weren't even fazed. we know it's not literal indiscernment. that's no freaking excuse for hand-waving the endless nightmares off entirely, for sanity's sake.

And what the heck do you mean by "or rather, 'blaming NC'?" we were using "NC" as a blanket term for everything that happened out there. would you rather we falsely tag YOU with everything? which, ironically, you seem to be complaining about anyway?
why do you think we even used your "deadname" to refer to the trauma for so long??? WE WERE TRYING TO, EVEN NOW, COMFORT AND APPEASE YOU, BY NOT USING YOUR CHOSEN RESPECTED NAME IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE HORRIBLE THINGS WE REMEMBERED. WE WERE TRYING TO PRESERVE YOUR PERSONAL IDENTITY AS SOMETHING SEPARATE AND EVEN INNOCENT.

we know what it's like for other people to take your name, your heart's name, and mangle it like roadkill. we were trying to save you from that, even when-- like it or not-- YOU WERE THE CAUSE OF MOST OF WHAT DEVASTATED US.
but we still cared. god help us we still DO care, otherwise WE WOULDN'T BE SO BLOODY ANGRY ABOUT THIS

this is all so frustrating. listen. you weren't directly responsible for a lot of things. that's a fact. HOWEVER. the simple, iron fact that YOU WERE WHAT WAS KEEPING US THERE means that, passively, all that terror still falls on your head. saying we're "having nightmares about NC" or "traumatized from NC" means, as a whole, that year or so with you screwed us up. it tore us to shreds. but even so, you aren't in every one of those situations. we went through a LOT of scary stuff in NC, a great deal of it by our own despairing and desperate hands. it's a blanket term. stop trying to defend your pride when all it's doing is making you look ridiculous.

 

"That is among the very worst parts of this whole situation. Knowing them, knowing their longtime problems being unable to tell dreams from waking life, believing their dreams actually happened, and knowing that they have had nightmares every night for as long as we’ve known them… knowing the nightmares now feature us and knowing they almost certainly believe those nightmares were real and we did all the terrible things that happen in their dreams."

DON'T YOU DARE. YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT US AND I CANNOT BELIEVE IT TOOK UNTIL NOW TO NOTICE.

"Our longtime problems being unable to tell dreams from waking life." Tell me, Oliver. When has that ACTUALLY been a freaking problem???? HOW ABOUT NEVER????

The "oneirataxia" title for our dream journal isn't meant to be taken literally, you dunce. It's a reference to the fact that our dreams are so freakishly realistic that they BASICALLY feature as strongly and powerfully as LEGIT MEMORIES & FLASHBACKS. We know they didn't "physically occur" BUT as far as our mind is concerned THEY DID OCCUR ELSEWISE, and so yeah that does cause an oneirataxic "fear bleedover" into physical reality, BUT it DOESN'T MEAN "WE BELIEVE OUR DREAMS ACTUALLY HAPPENED" in the same level of reality you exist in. geez just how literal-minded are you when you want to be? no wonder you never realized how actually traumatized we were around you.

"you've had nightmares every night for as long as we've known them" oh come on that is SUCH HYPERBOLE, WHERE THE HECK DID YOU GET THAT STORY???? First you actually reference our dream journal, and THEN you spew THIS JUNK????? HAVE YOU EVER ACTUALLY READ THE JOURNALS YOU CLAIMED TO "OBSESS OVER" FOR YEARS??????

You didn't literally do the "terrible things that happen in our dreams" (honestly it would be impossible, and thank GOD for that) and GUESS WHAT, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THOSE "TERRIBLE THINGS” ARE BECAUSE WE DIDN'T EVER POST THEM ONLINE, SO STOP ASSUMING THAT YOU KNOW EVERYTHING, YOU NARCISSISTIC LIBERTINE.

(no censoring. too much tortured rage bubbling up. why am I so angry)

 

 

"I’ve been thinking lately about how much they wrote in their journal, in October and November, about how hard they had to work not to hate us. Which, in LC-ese, meant, “I really, genuinely hate you and I feel guilty and scared about my hatred so I am going to try to pray it away.” Begging themselves not to hate us, for their own sake. Which, again, meant they did hate us. We know how their mind works."

OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD NO YOU DON'T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That, that RIGHT THERE, is the SINGLE MOST INFURIATING SENTENCE YOU HAVE EVER WRITTEN ABOUT ANYTHING.

THAT SINGLE CURSED SENTENCE IS THE ENTIRE FREAKING REASON WHY WE PUT OURSELF THROUGH ACTUAL HELL WITH YOU FOR SO LONG.

because "you know how our mind works."

AND WE DON'T, RIGHT OLIVER??????????????

THAT'S PSYCHOEMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, FOR THE RECORD.

But to continue.

IT'S ALSO PROJECTION. It's almost comical for me to read this bit, except for that last sentence. It's so utterly ridiculous and ludicrous that I can barely believe you wrote it.

"Which, in LC-ese, meant"… you sound like such a CLOWN. "LC-ese." What the heck does that even mean. Do you genuinely think we need a freaking translator for this?? When we're angry and scared and hurt and HONEST? "LC-ese??" Like YOU'RE the genius linguist who, alone amidst the entire world, can TRULY understand what we mean? The arrogance is choking. Everything always comes back to you, doesn't it.

First off, that is absolutely not what we meant, and it is incredible that you jumped to that conclusion.
"WE DON'T WANT TO HATE YOU" MEANS, QUITE LITERALLY, THAT WE DON'T WANT TO HATE YOU.

Problem is, back then, we didn't.

Now, we do.

Now your stupid translation DOES work, but GUESS WHAT? IF WE HAD FELT THIS WAY BACK THEN WE WOULD HAVE SAID SO.

Right now, it goes like this:

"I don't want to hate you, but God help me I REALLY HATE YOU RIGHT NOW."

Back then, it went like this:

"I don't want to hate you, but you are causing so much pain and fear and despair in my life that I can FEEL the real potential for hate bubbling up. I don't want that to happen."

THERE IS A HUGE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN POTENTIAL AND ACTUALITY.

ALSO, SHOVE OFF WITH YOUR ASININE ANTI-RELIGIOUS GARBAGE.

Feeling "guilty and scared about hatred" is A GOOD THING.

"Trying to pray it away" IS A VERY GOOD THING AND DON'T YOU DARE INSINUATE THAT IT'S JUST SOME SILLY PHRASE WORTHY OF MOCKERY.

Guess what? Right now I feel REAL, BOILING HOT, EVISCERATING, DRILLBITS-TO-THE-EYES ACTUAL LIVID HATRED towards you. The catch? It's not even towards you, when you get to the mangled, tangled, sobbing-furious-terrified roots of it.

(left unfinished)

 

I AM SO FURIOUSLY ANGRY

I lost TWO ENTIRE HOURS when I came home because that WOMAN decided to do God knows what and I LOST TIME AND I COULD HAVE BEEN HACKED AND I DIDN’T KNOW

Then that GRANDMOTHER decides that the best way to "help" is by saying "SSH, COME TO BED WITH ME" EVERY SINGLE TIME I SAY I'M SCARED
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, WHY WOULD YOU EVER SAY THAT, THIS IS WHY I'M SCARED AND SAD OKAY
STOP MAKING ME FEEL SO FILTHY AND ASHAMED FOR SAYING I'M SAD AND SCARED
I HATE THIS
WHY IS EVERYONE LIKE THIS

I'm miserable.
I tried very hard to have a good day. Yesterday I was very, very, very suicidal. Same with the day before.
Today my therapist cancelled so that could have been devastating. But I went into my room and I did some Dream World work for like two, three hours I think, while listening to Unitopia. That helped.
Then… I don't know. I ate a little around 5PM and I was very careful, I didn't get sick. That was good. But then by 5:30 or so the mother was home and I told her I needed to go shopping, if there was a blizzard tomorrow I needed some sort of food because I can't drive for another two weeks or so and I had little in the house. You get the picture.
Anyway. She said okay, let's go, I don't need to stop anywhere. Yeah right. It was almost 9PM by the time we stopped to get my food. She kept walking up and down the aisles of every other store, up and down, talking, chatting, et cetera. I was so tired I was hanging on the cart. She was having me carry stuff I didn't have the strength to really lift. I started getting so dizzy and disoriented that I forgot where I was a few times. But I kept saying, "how dare you, how DARE you, don't you DARE complain, she's helping pay for your food so you SHUT YOUR MOUTH, this is your sacrifice, this is what you must do in return for her kindness." So I shut my stupid mouth.
Really, all in all, I enjoyed it. Sick, but true. I enjoyed being fatigued to the point of total derealization. I enjoyed not having to eat for four hours. I enjoyed being able to forget I was a real person for that whole evening, not even having to make conversation (I think? I don't remember much. If someone talked it wasn't me, and that's scary too). So yeah, it was fine, except that I was so horribly tired I really just wanted to rest. Not talk, not play, not dance around. I wanted to lie down and sleep. No such luck.
Aaaand then we got home I guess, around 9:40? Close to 10. I tried to carry the bags in and I guess I twisted something? I remember crying from pain and my mother just saying "ohh, you shouldn't have done that," in a rather distracted voice. I left the room anyway because crying made me feel dirty and I was already furious at myself for my stupidity and speech. That's the last thing I remember until now.
I lost two freaking hours. TWO HOURS. WHO THE HECK DID WHAT.

It's like watching a movie, and only remembering the moments during it when you suddenly realized, "oh wait, I'm watching a movie!" That's what life is like, for the most part. I don't remember days, I remember moments during the day when it hit me that, "wait a minute, I'm not the one living this!" And then it's gone. Then I'm gone. Another few hours or days or months are gone, and what the heck sort of a life is this anyway?

Someone ate. I know they did. Trouble food, again. The sort of stuff that hurts. This makes me so ticked off; even if it's technically "healthy" food, the Destroyer takes hardcore vengeance on any stupid eaters and will 99% of the time annihilate whatever the problem food was. If you eat at night, if you add too many spices, if you make too much at once, if you-- God forbid-- put salt or sugar in it… anything like that, and it's going in the garbage. Even vegetables. Even the only food we have in the house. Even things we bought with the last of our monthly allowance. The Retributors in the E.D. business don't care. They aren't allowed to atone with blood, so they just eradicate the root of the problem as close as they can get.
I know it's likely going to happen tomorrow-- all the sweet potatoes are going to get thrown into the snow, again-- and I hate that, I hate seeing all this food and money wasted, but as long as it's labeled as "imminent danger" I won't protest. I'm too sick, I'm too tired. I don't want this weight in my stomach either. I don't want this hell happening anymore. So even if it makes me want to vomit, even if it makes me silently scream and pull my hair out from helpless rage, I will let them destroy all the food I buy, because "food" is still evil, when it's connected to switching and that nightmare of a WOMAN

I'm sorry. I'm useless. I'm a waste of space. I'm a waste of skin. I've been trying to get rid of this anger towards her for years but is it anger? Is it fear? What is it? Why is it? Is it fake? I don't understand. I don't even know who she is, she changes too much, too fast, too often. Is this what it's like for those who know us, with our D.I.D.? Is this our punishment, to see firsthand how much of a gluttonous slut freak we are?
I want to vomit. I don't want to live. I am so tired. This body feels like a prisonhouse, all sick and hot and constricted. It's terrifying to never be able to leave it, ever. I'm so scared I'm numb. I'm so tired, so worn out, I'm numb. I don't want to sleep, because I don't want to go into that tomb of a bed, God help me, what do I do


I've told the grandmother that I was raped. Several times. She knows this. She knows this and yet she doesn't seem to realize that touching me or saying things like "come lay with me" all the freaking time is REALLY TERRIFYINGLY STRESSFUL
I'm a freak. I shouldn't have a problem with this, right?
I seriously want to throw up. That or go outside into the cold and disembowel myself, shredding intestines out by the handful, throwing all that heavy ugly gore out into the snow and filling this skeleton up with cold air. God I am so sad, I can't seem to shake this feeling, the things I want just aren't physically possible and I don't know what's wrong with me.

For months now, I've been so thirsty for water that it will often drive me to tears from how frantic I am. I don't know why, it's driving me bonkers. I need water SO badly. I can't get enough. It's been making eating that much tougher, because I don't know if I said so, I've had to soak or juice everything I eat for several months now, or I can't keep it down. I just can't stomach it, because I want water that badly. I honestly can't eat instead because it will make me sick. So that's been tricky.
And then the cold thing. The idea of scrubbing myself raw and empty, and just filling myself back up with air and snow and ice. Cold. Even when it's freezing in this house, I want the cold. I WANT the cold. I don't mind sitting in front of a heater, I don't mind having to bury myself in blankets. Cold might make me slow and tired and it might make me look sad, but I prefer it. I prefer its silence, its delicacy, its sharpness, its purity. Heat is terrifying. Heat is sluggish and heavy and ugly-thick and pressing just like trauma memories. You can't run from it. I can soak myself in water and sit in front of a fan for hours, I can make myself feel like December, but when that wears off, there's red-hot lava in the air and I can't run. I can't… in summer you have to wear as little as possible or it will devour you. I know. I'm very temperature-sensitive and VERY touch-sensitive so I even have to wear shorts in winter, even now I will not wear long pants and I can only wear long sleeves in certain hoodies or robes. I cannot handle the sensory overload of "normal" winter clothing. So yeah, summer clothes are great. I love tiny shorts, I love tiny tops. I really do. EXCEPT WHEN I'M IN THIS HOUSE.
I feel so, so, SO UNSAFE when I wear summer clothing in this house it makes me want to cry. I hate that sentence, "makes me want to cry." It sounds so asinine. But it's not the crybaby nonsense. It's the feeling you get when you've studied for a test for weeks, and then when you get the test, it's all material you don't recognize. And you'd be so upset, so confused and angry, but so tired that instead of rage it just comes out as clenched-fists, a tight whine-growling in your throat, and weird tears. At least for me, I have no word for that emotion, but that's it. That's what I mean when I say "makes me want to cry." It's that feeling. That's crying.
I wear shorts, leggings, tank tops, whatever-- I feel awful. I feel like a slut. My grandmother tells me I am, often. Tells me that if a boy sees my stomach, or my legs, or whatever, that he will sin, and it will be MY fault, that I will carry his sin instead, and be punished. So that nails it into my head even more, "this body is a sin," makes me hate looking at it even more, makes me hate her and then hate myself for even considering that, because she's holy and I'm the devil, yada yada yada. I feel so sorry for this body; it's been through hell and I am trying so hard to take care of it now, it doesn't deserve any of the torture it's been through, but people keep telling me it's evil, it's flawed, it's ruined, it's broken, etc. But please, that shouldn't be the final answer, should it? Do I even get the right to say "no, I want to build a happy ending here? I want to fix things?" Because I'm terrified that the answer is no. No, I don't have the right, because "God said you HAVE to suffer" and so even wishing for a better state in life is a sin. Suck it up, boy. Et cetera.
I'm sorry. I'm ranting way too much on here lately. I guess this is what I get for largely skipping out on therapy for three months, close to four. I shouldn't need therapy. I shouldn't. But I shouldn't need human contact either, right? The only reason I even GO to therapy is so I can feel like an actual human being and talk to someone, right? The only reason I'm in therapy is to feel like my existence is valid, right? I shouldn't need that. My family is perfect, right? I have nothing to complain about, right? People have it so much worse than me, I have no right to complain…

Why is it that when we seek health and happiness, it is viewed as "complaining" and treated with scorn?

When I wear summer clothing my grandfather looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. He scares me. He listens to angry talk shows and talks about how much hate he hears and agrees with, it makes me so nauseous I either have to leave the room or (lately) put my iPod on full-blast and hope he doesn't get furious because I'm ignoring his latest prejudiced tirade. I don't want to internalize that garbage anymore, the buildup is scaring me already.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, through some horrible fluke, his talk shows apparently come on whenever I decide to eat. I only eat once a day, but I swear, by some inane curse it always seems to coincide with that behavior. He'll walk into the kitchen, sit down in the corner, turn on the radio full blast, and then stare at me while I'm trying to make breakfast/ dinner/ whatever. I really can't take that. Then my grandmother mocks me for being uncomfortable with being watched. I know she doesn't mean it, but her flippant disregard for my feelings "because they're ridiculous!" hurts more than any outright condemnation. For the record I prefer condemnation, I prefer being told that something I'm doing is problematic because maybe THEN I can FIX things, I can do BETTER, that's why I miss the heck out of Laurie and God I don't know how I fell this far away from all of them. I don't. I really don't.
I am trying so hard to reconnect with them lately. I am so sorry for all this rage. It's probably hurting her and I need to stop. God I need to stop, I am so sorry, I am just so sad and angry and tired and I feel so helpless and alone and I hate it, I hate feeling like a stomped-on child, I hate feeling like I want someone to comfort me, how simperingly immature can I get?!??!
I'm sorry. Let me start over.

I lost… six hours, almost six hours of time, really. Today. With the mother, as usual. She always makes me lose time and that is frightening, I NEED-- no, WE need to take precautions against it. Always have the iPod on hand. Always carry mint gum. Get some sort of grounding items, System-reminder items, and carry them, wear them everywhere. Shock yourself back into awareness and stop letting her shove you out.
But that's the danger. That's why we lose time around her. She was always dangerous to "be" around as a child, in the past. We could NOT be true around her, because the moment we disobeyed her behavior protocol, the moment we didn't act in a way appeasing to her, we were in danger. We were in trouble. So we learned, very fast, to act like her… we learned to dissociate, and someone else was born, apparently, with her face.
It makes me so so so sick. I really do want to go flood my veins with ice water right now.

Tomorrow is another day. Another day.
The mother wants to take us to the movies. God I wish I never said I wanted to see Strange Magic, it looked interesting and I offhandedly admitted that and now she won't leave me alone, I hate feeling trapped and ashamed.
I can't enjoy movies with her. She brings tons of food in, she talks, she's blatantly inconsiderate. I see heads turning all through the theater with her there and it frustrates me because I can't do a thing about it. I go to the movies for the solitude, for the silence. I go an hour early with Genesis, and we sit alone in the theater and we talk, or we don't, and we enjoy each other's company and we forget about everything but that dark red space and it's bliss. Not so with the family. No, she rushes in five minutes late with three purses full of snacks and then she won't stop asking questions. And she'll want to see three movies in a row. I can't.
I can't, I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. I can't live with her personality. She's a sweet woman, really, she's a wonderful woman, beneath all that fluster and flirty distraction she's very kind and determined and creative and I like her, I really do. But I can't be around her. I can't. Does that make me a bad person?

I hope it snows like fifteen inches tomorrow so that I don't feel bad about therapy being cancelled, and we won't be forced to go to the movies, and I can sleep in, and maybe I'll even go outside and eat some if I feel insane enough. I really don't care much anymore. I'm too tired, of a lot of things. But snow would help. If I wasn't stitched-up and swollen I'd go out running around in it. I might try anyway, just make a snow throne and sit there, king of the ice, sutures and all. I'd feel better, I bet.

I miss headspace. Heartspace, both, however it is. It's blurry, they're tied, but heartspace really does feel like Central alone has moved so that's just up in the air for now, pun intended.
The soft-reset of surgery must have flipped some switch in my brain, filled my boat up fives miles deep, you get the picture. All of a sudden, after it, it's like I never "forgot" Chaos 0 at all. Like for months, apparently I didn't know who he was. But now that's incomprehensible. It's so weird, and it's heartbreaking too, he doesn't deserve to put up with this nonsense on my part, whether I want it to happen or not. But he's the most… I've never met anyone with as much fidelity as him. Ever. It's insane. I try to be just as dedicated but I know I'm awful sometimes, I hope the fact that I never have the heart to quit means something. I was taught to be ashamed of caring so deeply for something. I was taught that it was foolish, to treasure something or someone so much in life. But really… I'm tired of being nonchalant, and careless, and unfettered, and blithe. It's torture. I miss my shadows, God knows how much I miss these monsters, do you realize that in those days I spent obeying your stupid horoscopes and behavior codes and spiritual dogmas I never felt love, not even once?? Not like this, not ever. You had me too lethally carefree. I didn't care at ALL for anyone but MYSELF, and you know what? I am tired of it. I am TIRED of being so "spiritually selfish."
I have someone who calls me a father, I have someone who calls me a husband, I have people who call me their best friend and I am TIRED of turning my back on them because YOU insisted that "THEY AREN'T REAL."
Screw this. I am running back into headspace with open arms and I KNOW that they will welcome me back with real love, not the shallow kind you felt.
I'm so sorry, I am so so so sorry, but there is a difference. Yes, you can love me detachedly, in a way that acknowledges my flaws but still accepts me as a human being, good at heart. That’s great! I appreciate and treasure that, I really do. But that sort of love is white and simple like clean bedsheets, the smell of breeze-dried laundry. It's a relief, it really is, but… it's only half of the equation. I would love for life to be so blissful and pure all the time, people, believe me… but… I can't force it. I can't force this extreme. Maybe your life has only ever been that sort of love, if so, I am happy for you.
But… Laurie, and Chaos, and Genesis, and Infinitii, and Xenophon too, all the people closest to me, they can feel that white-happy sort of love just as well as you can, except they have another level to it that you can't even seem to grasp, not honestly so.
There's a sort of love that's red, and dark, and deep, and tinged with pain and tears. You laugh at the "drama," I know, I've seen you. You laugh and say I haven't grown up yet, that I'm still foolish. But I have scars covering this body, and I am surrounded by locked-away memories that explain why, and this current life situation isn't all objective sunshine and butterflies. Life isn't all white linens, it's also black velvet, and that's love too, of a totally different kind. And that's what I need right now, is that sort of love that has SEEN me be ugly and evil and frightening and flawed and horrible, that KNOWS how bad my bad days get, and who STILL sees beyond all that disfigurement to the heart-source purity you people are focused on alone.
What I'm trying to say is… shadows aren't evil incarnate. As long as I'm still in a life situation where I can't transcend pain and sorrow every single time, I want to be around people that understand and will love me not "despite" it, but WITH it, WITHOUT sugarcoating it.
I'm rambling. I'm so stupid. I'm rambling, no one cares about this.

I'm tired of everyone I know here, telling me I have to be perfect.
It's subconscious sometimes. Everyone runs to me for advice, for information, for knowledge. Even on a subject I know nothing about, and have had no exposure to, my family runs to ME and expects me to know everything they ask about. Well I'm honored, I'm flattered, but GEEZ that is horribly stressful because when I let you down-- inevitably as I am not a walking encyclopedia-- you seem so upset, so confused, so disappointed. Like you want me to be just that smart, for my own good. And God I want to be, I'm sorry that I'm not, but… I can't be everything, can I? I've been trying, but…
I make mistakes. I mess up. I make stupid decisions sometimes. Sometimes I even ignore what I know is the smart decision, because I don't trust myself to know, yes it's a paradox but it's an old self-loathing habit. Point is I am just as much a sinner as everyone else, I screw up quite a lot, I get confused, I fail. And I am convinced that that makes me evil incarnate. The problem? My family doesn't believe that, not anymore at least. Raise a child to believe that "they are the reason Jesus is crying" and you're going to have a kid with one messed-up moral code. Tell that child as an adult that "I don't know where you got such a silly idea!" and they're going to be very confused, especially if that kid already doubts the validity of their own memories and emotions and thoughts.
I know my family loves me. I know they mean well. But they can't empathize, not often at all. "Oh, don't say that." "Don't feel that way." "That's silly, where'd you get that idea?" They never pause and ask, "why do you feel that way?" or anything like that. No, they just shoot my emotions straight out of the park, every time. Just like those linen-emotion people online. The ones with the emoticons every few sentences. It hurts, because some little damaged childlike part of me does feel sad and angry and confused, and does need help and comfort, BUT all the adult figures it knows are laughing at it and saying "silly child, there's no reason to be sad or angry!" And yeah, on a global level you're totally right, but please realize that a child who has just been slapped or screamed at or locked in a closet or touched inappropriately is going to have a really hard time believing that "there's no reason to be sad or angry." And if they DO, you've just effectively-- even if unwillingly-- taught them that they have no right to be upset by abuse.
It is an absolute LIE.
I go in loops with this. I hope it's helping, clearing out a bit more every time, until one day it's empty and I no longer have to bring it up again. I just don't want to squash this anymore, when it comes up.
Thank God for therapy, right? We are discussing this, little by little. We just started of course but I keep feeling like I have to justify my seeking help. "I swear we're making progress, please let me continue these appointments." That's family behavior obviously. Either you're not sick enough, or you're too sick and you're not being "cured" fast enough.

…I still shake, with real sadness, when I think about those words. "Cured," and "normal." My family's favorite words to use around me. "I can't wait until you're normal again." I don't know what they mean by "again," and what really freaks me out is that they don't either. I have asked them, several times. "What do you mean by "normal?" What would it mean, for me to be "normal" in your eyes?" The response? "Oh, I don't know, I just want you to be normal!" What is WRONG with you how can you want something if you don’t even know what it IS. It's just a buzzword at this point, but it freaks me out because it is something they want me to BE, something they want me to ACHIEVE, and they can't even define it!! I don't understand. But it makes me so sad, to realize that I will likely never make them happy, because I think "normal" just means "when I'm no longer upset or irritated or inconvenienced by your behavior" and that may never happen.
Bottom line… I have D.I.D., I'm transgender, I'm not their brand of religious. Those three things alone are enough to make my grandparents forever consider me a freak, maybe even an "evil" freak. And that breaks my heart, to know that I can never be "normal" to them, and they will always view me with a sad shake of the head. "It's such a shame; you're so pretty."
My mother, the mother, I don't know. I really don't understand her. Sometimes she's okay with the D.I.D. & transgender things, other times she gets that tight-lipped fake smile, goes "hm!" and then promptly interrupts me to change the subject. The religion bit she's fine with but I dislike discussing it with her, because it tends to get really critical and proud really fast, and I highly dislike that. It's all insecurity, and doubt, I know. But it makes me very uncomfortable.
I don't want to talk about this. I don't want any more energy going to this.

Chaos 0 has been around basically every day lately, since surgery. Laurie too, for the most part, although with all the body-healing troubles I mainly only see people at night. Genesis is starting to ghost around me again (he was gone for weeks and that unquestionably contributed to the depression and malaise) and Infinitii is always, always reachable. I spoke to Xenophon just a day ago, people are starting to switch again (Nathaniel and Javier were both out for a few minutes today, can't remember when but their overlays are tangible), I'm feeling ghosts around old anchors an unresolved issues, etc. Despite the weirdness of it all, despite it still looking like pieces of a kaleidoscope, I feel whole when all this is happening. I feel right, like there's a richness to my existence that is otherwise entirely missing. It's the difference between blank white, and iridescence. I've been letting myself be shoehorned into the former for way too long now.

It's guilt. It's confusion. I know these spiritual people are trying to help, a good deal of them DO, I owe great gratitude to many of them for helping me along knowledge-wise. But… I've been thinking about it, and I'm torn, shredded really, between wanting to obey them without question or following my heart instead, however wobbly the trail may be.
I looked back, at all my old archive entries, of the times I forgot… I wanted to cry, the real crying I must emphasize, the kind that feels like thunderheads in your chest.


It's 2AM. I feel a little better. Still thirsty for water, still kind of sad, but at least I have prog rock to listen to, and work taped all over my walls (feels so good to see work getting done!), and tomorrow there is good stuff to eat, good stuff to drink, and SNOW. So I'm happy in a way. And it's quiet too.
But really, sadness is important. I became so used to people telling me "sadness is an illusion!" that I started believing it had no purpose, when it DOES. Therapy is reminding me of that. A child is sad because sadness is IMPORTANT, it shows you something you must pay attention to. It is a signpost! It DOES have a purpose.
So I am feeling sadness, and I am surprised and heartbroken to realize that I naturally want to love that sadness, to heal it WITHOUT invalidating it… I want to go to that sadness, and ask it where it hurts, and how can I help, tell me what I can do, tell me if I can do anything for you. And that sadness will look at me, just like a child, unable to lie or paint a smile or manipulate its own behavior to appease people. It looks at me with red and shining eyes, and a face all scrunched up and sniffling, and it replies. It tells me why it is sad, and often angry too, and it tells me if I am the cause, or if I can help, or if I will make it worse. And I listen. I listen, to the best of my ability, because I care, and I love this small and aching part of our soul even if those around me insist it is fake or false or silly. And that breaks my heart, because I realize that part is still part of me, and I still treat myself with that same laughing invalidation to this day. No wonder I'm going in circles.

But it's progress. We're progressing, every single day, and I'm proud of us, in a humble loving sort of way. I'm really happy.
"Us." Maybe I should just get a bracelet, just a rainbow bead bracelet or something, with that word. Maybe I should get it tattooed right onto my hands, haha. But I need something, tangible and unignorable, to carry on this body at all times, to make doubt and self-deceit and ignorance impossible. No more running.
It's so sad, when I realize that the only reason I run in the first place is because it hurts, to have to hide it. It's… it would hurt so much less to not have to bury my entire being just to pass as sane. So I get angry, and bitter, and sad, because God I adore them but if I show that, if I live that love… well, God only knows what the consequences would be. I've seen enough of them at home. And so I'm heartbroken and furious and I run because one day I hope I'll run so far away I can stop and I won't ever have to run any more, ever again.

I need to clear my head. Today has been so weird. But good, too. See, even the stress and shadows, they gave me this entry, that beginning turmoil allowed me to sit back and do some more self-examination, to look at what's not working and why, and try to fix it a little. And I got experiences anyway, all that driving around with mum. I do enjoy driving about, even if I don't remember it. I guess it's because my bones get to relax. I don't often sit down at home, even on my computer I stand. So the rest is nice. Sitting down now, after surgery, I'm still getting used to all this relaxation time. That's probably why I'm up writing typecodes all over my closet doors (up to 201 today, roughly). I just feel somewhat useless sitting down, usually. At least I have a ton of stuff to go through on Spotify, haha. That'll keep me busy. Count your blessings dude, there's a lot of cool music to discover out there.

Speaking of nice prog rock, please listen to this bit here. That feeling is my sort of music feeling, and that low voice, that is how I want to sound. aaaaaah it is so nice. Now that my pitch is dropping like that, our voice is now more chest-based, it's getting more like that. When I'm stressed now I'll just hum a low note for a while, let it rumble, it makes everything buzz and it's so calming. It makes me so stupidly happy, I know it's funny, but good Lord we're finally getting a safe voice and it's pretty and I'm really happy about it.

But the words. The words in that bit.
"Contained in everything I do, there's a love I feel for you,
Proclaimed in everything I write
You're the light, burning brightly, onward through the night
Onward through the night, onward through the night of my life…"
…Geez I need to take a day and listen to Laurie, have that Xanga session she's been driving me up the wall about. Honestly I've been scared, doubtful of my ability to do that anymore, but she has faith in me. I just need to accept it.
I also need to take a day and write a good entry. An entry like I used to, about nothing but how much I adore everyone in this System, and my life with them.
I really have written this entry about five times over already, but I think that's because for some bizarre reason I haven't yet been ready to push past it? I keep saying "I'll do more with headspace," then I run again. I keep saying the same stuff about the family, but I don't know what to do about it. The new therapist insists I need to get out of this house, but… honestly I don't want to leave until I've made my peace here. Is that psosible though? I keep forgetting that other people might not want to, or be able to, meet me at the level of understanding and acceptance I need. Accepting that possibility is difficult. I might have to though.

One more happy thing while it's crossing my mind. My bro Excalibur (Diamond) has been playing Sonic Adventure 2 for the past week or so, being a perfectionist as always and trying to get all 180 emblems and a perfect bred Chao. So I just sat in the living room with him the other day for about 2 hours, talking Chao as he ran about getting Chaos drives and mushrooms to feed them. It was hilarious; he had this one shiny orange one (that he named after its stats; it was CCSCE or something so I called it Sissy) that he was waiting to evolve so he could breed it, but it wouldn't. Instead it kept wanting to eat, and attempting to swim. It would sit down, devour three times its body weight in fruit, then promptly get up and walk across the map to jump in the water. Poor thing couldn't swim, though, so we kept having to fish it out. Now my bro was playing as Shadow, so this was hilarious-- no matter where on the map we put Sissy, ze would invariably walk straight to the water and jump in, over and over, and Shadow would just huff and get hir out and the whole thing just kept repeating. It got so funny that I was in physical pain from laughing, my bro too. Honestly I have not laughed genuinely in weeks so that was fantastic.
Also at one point my bro said "oh yeah, I just found out Chaos 0 was originally a Chao" and I had to chuckle at that, "dude what did you think he was?" Anyway I casually commented that "I think Chaos is secretly still as silly as any Chao" and my bro nodded sagely and agreed, as Sissy marched on back towards the water.
I love Chao though. They're these adorable little jelly fairy babies and they're cute as buttons. Seriously when you pick one up in SA2B they just wobble like they're made of custard and it's the funniest thing but they're so precious and geez I miss playing these old games, they're great.

I'm going to cover that song, "Onward" by Yes. I have a list of songs I'm going to cover, in different styles and stuff, the minute I get a microphone (or my bro lets me use his). I like singing because I can feel the creation of the music, and being a part of my creative works is very important to me. I think that's why I've been shying away from art lately, I got too detached. I've been playing with fabric instead, here and there, trying to find clay to work with, that sort of thing. But I keep forgetting, my best pencil work ends up with my hands all over the page, and that feels right. I should try fingerpainting, haha. You never know. I always used to "draw" in the air with my hands, anyway, trying to visualize things. Gotta find the right route for this.

All right, now it's almost 3. I think it's okay to sleep now.
I don't like staying up this late because then I don't get a lot of daylight, but at least at night it's quiet. Always, "at least it's quiet," that's my reason. But it is. It's so peaceful, it feels like a world of its own, everything is so calm and embracing. I adore this. It's awake meditation. I can't wait until I get my own place, it'll be like this all the time, even in the day. I do that here as much as possible of course, and I'm getting better at it, day by day.
I do need sleep though. Sorry for the negativity at the beginning of this, it just exploded. I'll clean it up a bit before I post it.
Sleep well, everyone.