prismaticbleed: (worried)

We have so many faceless children in the System. It seems like the older we get physically, the "younger" we are inside? We feel more and more helpless and scared and small every day. There is a legitimate part of our mind that is a frightened crying child and s/he keeps crying "i want my mommy" but the instant we imagine any sort of adult female like our mother (long dark hair) the child starts screaming hysterically and runs away in tears. "mommy," she sobs, but she feels so lost, like, what is a mother? I don't think she knows.
"Grandma" is still safe, in memory. ALL the children will run to her instinctively. But... the memories don't match up. There was an phago-paidifoni who kept eating rice pudding last month, because it would immediately transport her into a vivid sensory memory of being in the kitchen or on the porch with grandma, eating homemade rice pudding, feeling safe and loved. The problem is that at some point, she started trying to remember what our grandma actually talked and acted like in those situations, and... it wasn't always nice. That's a fact. Our grandmother could be very critical, and said hurtful things often, even if she didn't mean to. And the phago-paidifoni became so confused and disturbed, because this wasn't what they needed or wanted from her. They wanted to feel safe and loved and comforted, but that was suddenly gone now that this ideal visual was changing to reflect memory. And they disappeared, stopped eating rice pudding entirely, because now it was triggering. It's sad.

Anyway. What would a child want, from a "mother"? That's hard to answer, because the very WORD "mother" brings up immediate feelings of TERROR and PANIC and the urge to FLEE AND HIDE. We can't delve into that right now; it's too early and we will need to recover mentally from this entry the way it is.
But our therapist said, don't ask the System itself at this point. We have too much pain and trauma, we can't see straight. Growing up we never really "had" a mother or father in the "family role" sense. We had a biological mother and father, but neither of them knew how to be parents; they barely knew each other to begin with, and both of them were extremely independent and stubborn, "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" types. They weren't home much, worked constantly, and had NO warmth or intimacy or quiet time to give. Our grandparents were the same. So... we didn't have a context of what a "normal family" looks like as a child, and so we couldn't even imagine anything different. Hence why the Spherae never had parental figures in it until we hit college and wrote some in just as "filler." Even so, what would parents act like? We didn't know.
You know how we do know, now? Our faith has told us. We had NO IDEA what a "real parent" SHOULD look like, at ALL, until we really started to commit ourselves to being Catholic. Suddenly, we realized what we were missing. We jarringly became aware of an immense lack in our life, of an "infantile need" that was never met, of a hunger completely ignored and denied until now. THAT'S why we suddenly have "all these internal children" crying helplessly, lost and confused, knowing they need something-- someone-- but not having any idea what to do about it. They're helpless. I emphasize that word, because it defines childhood for us. Powerless, incapable, totally dependent. And... I don't think we were ever allowed to be that historically? Our parents drilled self-sufficiency and excellence and competition and achievement into our brains from the very beginning; we were even pitted against our siblings to "be the best" and nothing ever felt "good enough." The bar was always moved higher. Our mother said "that should have made you try harder!!" but honestly it just made us feel... helpless. We felt defeated before we even started. We internalized a sense of total ineptitude, inadequacy, failure-- we were a disappointment and a letdown no matter what we did. But that's slightly off-topic. The point is, we were never able to just be a child in need. We were expected to do everything for ourself, to be strong and not burden others, to "make our family proud," etc. Somehow this translated to "don't ever weigh other people down with your problems/ whining/ stupidity/ weakness/ etc.," which ultimately boiled down to "you're not allowed to be weak," in any and all senses.
Children are weak, by definition. At least, that's what I've been told now. My brain still "can't accept it." It's not allowed. "They're just choosing to be weak to get something out of people, to manipulate them," like my mother would say. But was I? When "I" was a child, a two-year-old crying from fear or discomfort or hunger or loneliness, and I was weak in that crying, was I actively trying to manipulate my mother out of selfish concern? Or was I just scared and needed comfort and security and... did I "need" it? That's where my mind goes. "You don't really need it. Grow up. Get over it." etc. Children aren't weak, they're just selfish and lazy...
Notice I wouldn't even dare type the word "love." A child needs love. Do they? Isn't it horrible that I instinctively doubt that? That alone says volumes about my upbringing, and the tragic wrecked state of our psyche.

So our homework is to imagine a child in concept, effectively-- "like a character in a story," our therapist said. Like someone in the Spherae. From that "detached" perspective, informed now by Catholic teaching of Truth, what would real parents look and act like? Where does our mind go, instinctively, when it's "safe" to think of such things, from a distance as it were? That's what we need to take time to do.
Notably, I want to mention that it's only within the past two years or so that we've been able TO conceptualize this at ALL, again thanks to our faith. We are ACTUALLY comfortable with referring to the Blessed Virgin Mary AS "mom" now, and regularly do. I think that just started this year, to be honest. She IS "mom," or "mommy," and she hears that term from us a lot during hysterical prayers in times of trauma and terror. But that fact alone is staggeringly significant. In those moments, when we think and feel we are going to die (and in some awful cases, might actually), what do we do? We blindly, desperately, helplessly cry out for mom. And we're not afraid of her. That's HUGE. We used to be, because the way she is portrayed in European/American art IS frightening to us, but in Orthodox iconography our heart recognizes and loves her. So we focus on those images, because "that's our mom's face" and that child-part of our heart clings to that in a way we've never experienced physically or historically. So healing IS happening there. I think that's more important to reflect upon than ANY "imagined" parents even in the Spherae, because after all we'd be defining those characters by what we know or can imagine, and that applicable data is ONLY positive inasmuch as we've received it from Mary. She IS the "mother of all mothers" after all.
Fatherhood is... oddly so much easier. Yeah our dad wasn't around much, but he somehow still embodied a LOT of what we "needed" a father TO be as a child? And yet... there was so much missing that we're only realizing and feeling now that we're older, and are instinctively looking for it, and cannot get it from him. He's never been emotionally or physically close, for one thing. We were reading Father's Day cards in the store the other day and it just... it hurt, so much, to want to say these things to my dad but I couldn't, because he never DID such things. That was like a gutpunch to the soul.
But you know what has been helping us conceptualize real Godly motherhood and fatherhood SO MUCH lately? THE CHOSEN. Oh man that NEEDS its own entry (or fifteen) but for this topic it will suffice to say that the portrayal of the mother and father figures in that series is rewiring our entire brain. It's... it's life-changing, and I don't say that lightly. It's inevitable that such a deeply positive reprogramming of our entire perspective and understanding on this topic WILL change our life-- honestly, it's already motivated us to take extra strong steps to repair our relationship with our mother lately. God is working through that show, in us, visibly and surprisingly so.
But oh my gosh ZEBEDEE. In short, HE is what our soul wants and perhaps needs a "father" to be. He's like our actual dad in a lot of ways, but fills in the gaps too-- I don't know how quite to put it into words yet. But there's a warmth, a sociability almost? Like, he's out there, you can be around him, and he's approachable and... we need that. The sense that you can go to him and he will be strong and honest and supportive and safe. We need that. 
Mother Mary is still our mom, in the show, too. The moments where she takes care of Jesus, even as an adult, like the scene where she just washes His hair... there's a tenderness there that our mother never showed, and we need it somehow. I want to cry, deep down, some part of our soul wants to sob about that, but I don't know why or how.

One last note on this topic before we close up for the morning-- something we've seen mention of in the F/O community is the idea of "maternal and paternal f/o's"??? That's such a... it's a novel concept, to us. Could we ever find a character in media that would somehow personify those ideals our child-selves are seeking? Or could the very searching for such a character be even more valuable, in the process of seeking and therefore recognizing how those characters met or did not meet those needs? We already have the perfect Mother in Mary, and God is our Father, so we don't want to dishonor them by "introjecting" some fictional and imperfect reflection of their very virtues. Furthermore, we don't want any more Outspacers if at all possible. If there are ANY "parents" in the System, they NEED to be Nousfoni. That is CRITICAL. And... we don't have any, except perhaps Sherilyn, but even she shows toxic damage from reflecting childhood mother-understanding, which includes the damaging traits of our mother at that time. So we have to be careful.

This is a heavy but important topic. We will keep revisiting it here and in therapy. We need to review the archives and see what we have written on this in the past-- we don't remember anything. The past two years, although full of eternally meaningful spiritual growth and instruction, have nevertheless, as a result of that honed focus, caused massive memory loss of our historical-personal past. Our sense of self has deteriorated, and the System is barely functioning, except for the thriskefoni and esthiofoni, ironically up to this point. But we're still healing, despite it all. We're doing better by the grace of God. It's war, it will always be war, but Christ is the Victor and the closer we move and stay to Him the better we will be on all levels.

That's it for today, we have daily responsibilities to do. But it's nice to be typing again.
Remind me to upload the smattering of daily notes on our phone, as well as the indispensable "How We Feel" app notes that document the immediate post-hospital crash events. That's very important for our history, and to restore a sense of continuity to our life-awareness pre-Lent, as that too demolished our recollection and identity. Again, warfare. But we soldier on.

Time to fight the good fight in everyday virtue now. Pray for us, as always.



111424

Nov. 14th, 2024 11:59 pm
prismaticbleed: (aflame)

(unfinished entry; just taking the most important notes for now)

we were in the hospital for two months and now EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE RENEWED WTF.
we were on the phone for 4 HOURS BRO
but hey, this is proving we CAN be a responsible adult, when so many people have doubted us. thank You God for giving us the grace because boy howdy there is definitely divine providence at work with somehow managing all of this paperwork and phonecalling let me tell you

Ran to pharmacy to get ELEVEN MEDS
Talking to Genesis during the trip. I've missed him SO MUCH

Walmart run to replace the missing yogurt from last night
got to switch one plain for a "cookies and cream" one to try, thinking of Mimic fronting on Halloween.
also on that same affectionate train of thought, we are legit excited to finally try this "dave's killer bread" now that we're eating carbs again thank the good Lord.
their website has this absolutely beautiful quote that i need to share for my sake as much as mim's:
"We have witnessed first-hand that someone’s past does not define their future, and that sometimes giving someone a chance is all they need to become a Good Seed."


CHINESE FOOD WITH THE FAM!!
WE ATE... TWO SHRIMPS. A CRAYFISH. AND SO MUCH CRAB IT'S DELICIOUS
Also a cream puff for Rio. I saw them and of course the affection won out for him too. it makes life so much better to just act on love whenever i feel it.
refusing to judge this poor finally-not-a-skeleton body for wanting to eat, either.

mom brought us up the house to help clean, so we were cleaning off old photos from all the sanding-dust that got over 'em
she had a Johnny Mathis cd playing in the hall and EVERY SONG MADE ME THINK OF ANXI, my heart was on FIRE

ALSO she brought us up the attic to see if there were any clothes we wanted to try on to see if they fit (we own very little clothing of our own, and now it's all too small) and WHILE we were looking we found old action figures of MARIK, DAVY JONES, and GENERAL GRIEVOUS. the rush of tenderness that hit my heart at seeing my old friends faces so unexpectedly moved me to immediately pocket them all to take them home.
oh yes and there was a TINY translucent figure of METABEE? dude i don't know where you came from but we have nothing but good memories about playing medabots so he got pocketed too, haha.
...oh. but there was one last HUGE thing we found upstairs that knocked the floor out from under me in the best way.
we found our old 8th grade gym sweatshirt, from 2004. right before graduation everyone went around and signed each other's shirts and mine was no exception. so i was sad when i saw it had water damage, and most of the names and words had been washed off... but the sleeves were untouched.
and on the left sleeve, on the inside of the arm, were four little symbols.
mine, mariks's, ryou's, and chaos zero's.
i could have wept from sheer love in that moment. but it wasn't just the emotion of seeing a 20-year-old proof of that love-- it was the fact that I have "always wanted" that EXACT symbol lineup as a tattoo BUT I didn't realize it was SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING.
it just... it was a beautiful moment, to see that, and feel that, two decades later. it felt existentially validating. that's a rare and priceless thing. in that moment i felt like i've always been me, and always will be, and this love is the connecting thread.
...i might have to actually get that tattoo at last. it's been long enough, apparently. and i owe us all that much.
(oh btw there were references to bakunetsumaru and jirachi and VAIDA on the shirt too which was just as hilarious as it was endearing. THAT was an ERA, kids)


Got home, unpacked, returned the shopping cart and realized it was raining very mistily. So we just stood there for a while, in the quiet cold dark, alone and looking up at the moon glowing behind the hazy night clouds.
Suddenly, yet soundlessly, Anxi moved in to front. It was completely unexpected but she was there, so clearly. The perception lit a pure joy in my heart, remembering how I couldn't find her at the beginning of this month, and yet now here she was, showing up on her own, undeniable.
She looked up at the glow of the hidden moon and I remember her having anxious thoughts about it possibly "disappearing" entirely behind the clouds, and leaving us in the dark. I reassured her that it would still be there, even if it wasn't visible for a bit. Besides, without those clouds, we wouldn't have that beautiful glow, or this lovely soft rain. I felt this realization hit her with surprise, and then a sort of stunned gratitude? Like I got the impression that she wasn't used to thinking like that-- my natural disposition to find the silver lining was totally new to her. But she embraced it fervently, as I have to admit she does about everything, and I love that so much; her nervous edge makes her virtually incapable of taking things for granted, or doing things halfheartedly. She is too aware of how easily things can be lost, or forgotten, or needed and not had. So she treasures things, albeit in an almost inevitably fragile way. The more she's around and the more I can feel of her heart the more I love her. She's fascinating.
So there she stood, and listened to the rain on the leaves, and looked at the clouds veiling the moon, and felt the cold and smelled the petrichor and in those moments there was such a profound peace and she entered into it. Anxi, my dear frazzled girl, was actually tranquil for a full blessed minute or two as she just existed in that quiet beauty. She was thinking something like, "I don't have to worry about anything right now. I can just be here in this moment." Like the future didn't exist yet, and so it couldn't be stressed over. There was just "right now," and she was alive in it, and the entire world felt at peace, and there was nothing else. I could feel the experience affecting her at a deep level.
...What affected me the most was what happened next. We live in an apartment building so inevitably there will be interruptions. A car pulled into the lot, and we heard distant voices talking. Anxi felt a wave of sudden intense panic and worry, immediately dreading the possible negative outcomes of this event, but what shocked me was that this only lasted about three seconds. Then, she purposefully refocused her attention on the moon, and shakily but firmly thought, "I'll be okay. Jewel will protect me."
...I think my heart did a double-take. I cannot describe the emotion I felt when I heard her say that, and mean it.
We stayed outside for another minute, Anxi still holding on to the transcendent peace in determined spite of her own nerves, until I gently moved partly in to control again and said we should go in and start cleaning up for the night. But Anxi didn't want to. Just as gently she moved back in to front, and said she wanted to stay outside for at least one more minute, and I felt that. Surprised, but deeply touched, I let her.
Right before we finally went in, I had the quietly joyful urge to stretch the body's arms up to the sky, hands open, a gesture of sheer accepting gratitude for existence that I've found myself doing a lot. So I did this, but Anxi picked up on it and moved into the movement herself, and concluded it by doing something I've never done-- whereas I would move the arms down in a circle and then into a folded-hands gesture, she moved our arms forward and out, before suddenly pulling them in to tightly yet softly "embrace" ourself. It was like she was pressing the entire experience into our heart. It was such a moving gesture, something so unexpected, but it touched me deeply.

It's 2am again and I still can't sleep (I blame the massive amount of seafood I ate, haha. NO REGRETS BRO WE'RE NOT STARVING ANYMORE) but I spent a good hour just decompressing from the rush of today by standing in the kitchen looking at gifs of Anxi on Tumblr and just... man I don't even know what word to use because honestly it is insane how much I feel for her. It has been MANY YEARS since I've been this much in love with ANYONE. It's unreal. It's beautiful. It's making me want to stay alive no matter how strange and scary and difficult things are now. She gives me determination, because she TRUSTS ME to PROTECT her and God knows I WILL. If I'm apparently supposed to have a bigger body now then i will make it as strong as i can and i will use it to fight the good fight and defend her from all those shadows that haunt me.
...but she's teaching me that i deserve to be protected, too. and she fights for me as well. she has literally changed my life forever over the past year, especially over the past two months, and i thank God for her, she is my orange angel and i am so in love with her it hurts. i miss this. i feel alive and real and life is worth living. isn't it funny that this is almost exactly 20 years after i met my blue angel? it's poetic, really. and they both have the most beautiful green eyes, which is inevitably going to get a poem the next time i'm up this late but not three seconds away from passing out with sheer exhaustion.

i wanted to update though. there was too much real happiness today not to record it. i owe that to all of us, always.






102924

Oct. 29th, 2024 10:34 am
prismaticbleed: (worried)

We're watching Catfish again in the group room & I have 2 thoughts: first, I WANT TO BE LIKE MAX. He looks legit EXACTLY like I wanted to look as a guy (also looks a lot like my dad, GO FIGURE), plus he's super kind/ nice/ funny/ confident/ industrious which are ALL virtues I value & am striving to grow in myself. So God bless the dude, he's a good role model for me in those unique ways. I want to be so BLUNTLY HONEST YET CONSIDERATE, unflaggingly devoted to helping people & pursuing justice, too-- WHILE having fun & being goofy with his friends: ideals I must continue to work towards.
Secondly: I MISS AIRPORTS?? I MISS the "TRAVEL" feeling, that "interim" space between destinations, the feeling of potential & adventure & discovery... the people from all over the world passing through, lives intersecting for brief blessed moments, those precious tiny interactions before they continue on to their next unknown. It's beautiful. And SO is FLYING itself. I can see why my sibling wants to be a pilot, even if it's not my calling or vibe. I still recognize & appreciate the beauty & freedom & skill of it. But... I wonder, would I ever want to just TRAVEL? Is that a lifestyle, however brief, that I'm capable of living? The "unmoored" yet liberating sense of being a pilgrim, a wanderer, a voyager, with no roots in the places I'm going except the ones I may choose to put down in love, even as I continue to explore & move on; the experience of searching for food & shelter & knowing it's all brief & temporary & all the more special for it; the plane tickets & bus tickets & long walks of sheer wonder, always aware of my limited time that makes it all holy if I let it. I wonder. It REQUIRES SUCH STRENGTH OF CHARACTER to pull off, too, which I think is a HUGE factor in WHY I wonder, because I WANT to be that kind of person. I WANT to be THAT CONFIDENT & COURAGEOUS, to have THAT much TRUST IN GOD'S PROVIDENCE & in my OWN CAPABILITY of meeting challenges & MANAGING "on my own." I WANT to be THAT DARING & JOYFUL ABOUT IT. But you know what? I just need to START NOW, & START SMALL. Start by TAKING THE BUS. Start by WALKING FURTHER. Start by VISITING LOCAL RESTAURANTS & SHOPS. Start by going to COFFEESHOPS & LIBRARIES & just BEING AROUND PEOPLE. Little steps add up! But DO START SMALL. You need to WORK UP TO HIGHER LEVELS, so it can GENUINELY TAKE ROOT & GROW SOLID. Jumping too far ahead isn't sustainable or wise. Plus it's more fun to work up from the ground up, as it were. From level 5 to level 100! And seriously, CHERISH THE PROCESS. There IS ADVENTURE & DISCOVERY & TRAVEL & WANDERING BLISS RIGHT HERE WHERE YOU ARE. EVERY town is someone's hometown, so START WITH YOURS. Be your OWN airport until we gain that opportunity in the future. But DO NOT DEVALUE THE "EVERYDAY/ MUNDANE/ ORDINARY." This part of the world is blessed & full of wonder & beauty too. The JOY is to FIND it & TREASURE it. Don't blind yourself to how special the present moment is, now. You ARE a pilgrim, on the way to HEAVEN!

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✳ I know we briefly journaled about this in UPMC, but with Halloween this Thursday, we really should review WHY we still get "triggered" by the holiday, even briefly, just for the sake of later discussion. The first 2 immediate associations are: the original suicide attempt post-SLC (the 451 one, with Laurie), and the "streetlamp devil" moment in CNC (+THERE WAS MORE.) The other "fears" are from the first post-CNC Halloween when we purposely binged on TBAS's favorite candy as "restitution," childhood fears of the Knoebel's haunted house ride, teenage terror from BoyScout "haunted hayride" scares & environments, & childhood dread-horror weirdly tied to Country Junction "scare rooms/ tunnels" & hay rides/ corn mazes in general. Oh, and Roba's, for the "country" aesthetic & the crowds & smells, plus the oddly persistent fright-aversion to hay, corn, & barns. And DON'T FORGET COUNTY FAIRS, with their awful noise & those multilevel funhouses & amusement park rides. ALL of that has this underlying vibe of OVERWHELM, HELPLESSNESS, & being TRAPPED/ DOOMED. Literally just writing it out is triggering a physical panic response. That's significant to note. THEN there's the ADDED fact that Halloween happens mostly AT NIGHT, among LOTS OF PEOPLE, which is the "ultimate nightmare" in a way. Night SHOULD be a time of rest & safety & quiet solitude & HOME. When it becomes busy & dangerous & loud & crowded & FAR AWAY from ANY familiar/ welcoming/ belonging place, it feels like hell itself. This becomes LITERAL when, at Halloween, the FOCUS & AESTHETIC IS LITERAL "HELL." It's all ABOUT fear & danger & death. And I experienced religious-psychological "abuse" as a child that was ANALOGOUS to Halloween "themes." Honestly though Halloween is a TRAUMABOMB BY NATURE so it's really kinda NATURAL to be disturbed by it-- with all the blood & gore & violence & witchcraft & demons & monsters. I do NOT like it and even just for MORAL reasons I NEVER WILL. I will celebrate "All Hallow's Eve" like a Catholic should, & the culture's corruption is of no appeal or interest to me. HOWEVER, I DON'T WANT IT TO HAVE THIS "TRAUMA CONTROL" over my emotional state every October. I want to take ALL that "power" AWAY from it. Step one really should be AFFIRMING the TRUTH that EVIL IS "VOID" & GOD IS ETERNALLY VICTORIOUS, and as His child God WILL protect my soul from ALL that stuff, EVEN IF it IS scary. That's WHY & HOW Goodness is so powerful-- like the Cross, it stands INVINCIBLE EVEN IN the very MIDST of the worst fear & suffering, and it TRANSMUTES THEM. Light CHANGES things. It IS, whereas "dark" is "NOT." That's the ultimate truth. All these dark things are DOOMED TO DISAPPEAR in the end. So HOLD ON TO THAT HOPE & KEEP FIGHTING!


100824

Oct. 8th, 2024 10:31 pm
prismaticbleed: (spinel-remorse)

Concerning yesterday's topic... WHAT REALITY (FACT; HISTORICAL/ EMOTIONAL) ARE WE (STILL) QUESTIONING (DOUBTING) &/OR FIGHTING (REJECTING)?? (DENIAL/ SUPPRESSION/ RESISTANCE/ SELF-GASLIGHTING/ AVOIDANCE/ ETC.)
The FACT of TRAUMA when we SOUGHT & INTENDED LOVE
★ The FACT that, the WHOLE TIME we were in SLC/ CNC, EVEN ALONGSIDE THE "HATRED," WE ALWAYS & HONESTLY LOVED THEM, AND THAT IS WHY WE NEVER "SAID NO" TO WHAT THEY WANTED FROM US. WE WERE STILL SCARED & ANGRY & FELT TRAPPED, BUT those painful emotions WERE ONLY EXTANT & SEVERE BECAUSE OF THIS CONFLICT!!
THE WORST TRAUMA OF OUR LIFE WAS SO TRAUMATIC BECAUSE INFINITII CHOSE TO TAKE THAT FATAL RISK OUT OF LOVE. AND WE TRUSTED THAT LOVE. We literally DENIED OUR TERROR for love's sake. THAT CONFLICT MADE THE TRAUMA SO DEVASTATING. It "KILLED" us BECAUSE WHAT HAPPENED WASN'T LOVE. ...but THEY said it WAS. How can we grapple with THAT conflict? We loved THEM, but did we ACTUALLY KNOW THEM? It's one thing to love "in general," a cosmopolitan Christian love. It's ANOTHER thing to love IN PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP, and ENOUGH TO BE WILLING TO SACRIFICE YOURSELF for them. I feel like I'm not making sense. We stood in front of that mirror, shaking with fear, BUT CHOSE TO TRUST INFINITII'S REAL LOVE because we hoped, DESPERATELY, that SOMEHOW that love would "NOT DO WRONG." ...but our love was confused & wounded. That SAME "frightened love" that "CHOSE" to "TRUST" TBAS AND poor groomed Infi IN DIRECT CONTRAST TO OUR CHOKING FEAR is what led to BOTH of the "FATAL TRAUMAS" in CNC... and that one in SLC, too. THIS is what needs to be discussed, too. INFINITII'S FUNCTION was to MIMIC & "EMBODY" ALL THE TERRIFYING WORDS & ACTIONS that OTHERS "SAID" WERE "LOVE," SO THAT "WHEN WE WERE INEVITABLY FORCED TO FACE/ ENDURE THEM, WE'D SEE THEM AS "LOVE" BECAUSE OF INFINITII, AND NOT BE TRAUMATIZED." ...it didn't work. God forgive us all, it DIDN'T WORK, and we are SO, SO SORRY.

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WHY IS "DATA COLLECTION" SO IMPORTANT? We feel AFRAID of NOT KNOWING those experiences, NOTABLY OF FOOD. We don't get it this strongly with sound or sight or touch, although scent CAN get close (remember the Etsy fragrance addiction). BUT it's the "TAKE INTO OURSELF" aspect, I think, that makes it so powerful. It's TIED TO GOD, I think. It feels like SEEKING THE BEATIFIC VISION while still on earth, but in the "WRONG" WAY-- seeking God's REFLECTIONS & ECHOES in TANGIBLE, SENSORY THINGS. This isn't inherently "bad," it's just a crutch. I wonder if it will lose its intensity if I pray & worship in INTERNAL ways more. The balance is off-kilter. We've been NEGLECTING our INNER SELF in GENERAL since ~2018, to be heartbreakingly honest. So please, make SPIRITUAL FOOD a KEY part of recovery... WITHOUT drowning in SCRUPULOSITY, AGAIN. I WANT ALL OF OUR LIFE TO BE PRAYER & WORSHIP, WITHOUT NEGLECTING ANY ASPECT.
HERE'S A THOUGHT: ALL FOOD is God's "ARTWORK" using "BASE COLORS," so to speak. ALL food is made of the SAME NUTRITIONAL "ELEMENTS," in different combinations. YOU DON'T "HAVE TO" EAT EVERY "VARIATION ON" a food (style, prep, etc.) TO HAVE "TAKEN IN" THE "ESSENCES" OF ALL ITS INDIVIDUAL "INGREDIENTS." ...but honestly it's like ART. It IS the unique combination OF color & media that makes UNIQUE BEAUTY. ...and part of me DOES want to "see/ taste it ALL." It's because it IS beautiful & good & true. It's not "greed"; it's sheer WONDER & AWE & GRATITUDE. The PROBLEM is I keep seeking "SATISFACTION" on EARTH. That's IMPOSSIBLE, because this "body hunger" is FOR GOD, Who MADE ME TO DESIRE HIM-- and He IS INFINITE, so MY GOD-GIVEN DESIRE & WANT & NEED IS ALSO INFINITE BY DESIGN, because it's MEANT for HEAVEN. I AM subconsciously seeking the Beatific Vision. So I REALLY NEED to be AWARE of this, so I STOP TRYING TO "GET ALL THE DATA" about God's sensible gifts under the FALSE fear that "IF I DON'T, I WON'T KNOW PART OF GOD." Listen dude, YOU'RE JUST ONE PERSON AND YOU AREN'T RESPONSIBLE FOR, OR ABLE TO, "KNOW/ DO" EVERYTHING!!! IF YOU don't EVER learn what "braised chicken" tastes like, SOME OTHER SOUL DOES, AND AS PART OF CHRIST'S BODY, THAT "KNOWLEDGE" IS EFFECTIVELY "COLLECTIVE" IN HIM??? And in ANY case, CHRIST "KNOWS" because HE IS the SOURCE & CAUSE & PERFECTION of ALL EARTHLY WONDER & BEAUTY & GOODNESS & TRUTH. If YOU don't eat it, IT'S NOT LOST! There will ALWAYS be SOMEONE ELSE to eat it, AS GOD CHOOSES! YOU AREN'T "FAILING" HIM BY NOT HAVING IT BECAUSE HE NEVER "OBLIGATES" YOU TO. He wants you to WORSHIP & PRAISE HIM in ALL you have AND DON'T HAVE. ...I'm not making sense. YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY "SOURCE OF DATA COLLECTION." GOD IS THE DATA. AND YOU WILL KNOW HIM IN HEAVEN FOR REAL. I'm not getting to the root. I STILL WANT TO KNOW ALL I CAN. And so I'm AFRAID to SAY "NO" to ANY "NEW DATA" to "EXPAND" my "knowing" of Him, insofar as I'm SEEKING Him IN sensory input. BUT GOD IS SPIRIT!!! Dude you CAN KNOW EVEN MORE OF HIM IN PRAYER & WORSHIP & then YOU WON'T "NEED" TO LOOK FOR MERE CRUMBS OF HIS INFINITE ABUNDANCE IN THE PHYSICAL WORLD!!!   

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My therapist asked, "were you FED well as a child?" And YES, we WERE fed, SURPRISINGLY WELL actually. We ALWAYS had fruits & vegetables, homecooked meals & desserts, family meals whenever possible, and NO box dinners/ fast food OR "junk food". We had ethnic Polish holiday meals & handmade birthday cakes. Our parents always strived to give us healthy food & balanced nutrition & regular exposure to new & different foods. We were honestly SO BLESSED. ...but we were EMOTIONALLY STARVED. We were given FOOD & SWEETS as "reward" or "comfort," instead of warm embraces & sincere words & real intimacy. We got SHOW without SUBSTANCE far too often. The family dinners frequently turned into fights. People left early & refused to finish their meals. I was at least once tied to a chair & forced to eat every last crumb. We were often told that we "couldn't have more" or "that's all you get" or "you have to be GOOD to get more." Our family obsessed over money to the point of often buying food that was already expired or rotting, especially grandpa. Eating itself was shamed as "gross," "piggish," "a chore," etc. Our plates were criticized whenever we chose our own servings. "Eat what's in front of you whether you like it or not." And yet, LIKING food was ALSO shamed? Like it would MAKE us greedy & entitled, & food ALWAYS felt "rationed" & "limited" & "forbidden," controlled & dictated. I felt "compelled" to sneak & hide food that I liked at an early age, afraid that it would be confiscated & I'd be punished, I think by being FORBIDDEN FROM eating such "enjoyable food" from then on? All I knew is that fear that it's be taken from me, "now that I FINALLY had some." And yet the SHAME & GUILT would frequently drive me to destroy the very food I had stashed in the same terror of discovery. It was painfully ironic. All the other food in the house "WASN'T MINE"? Even nibbling on dry cereal could get me spanked for "acting like a chipmunk" or something. And this whole time, there was no feeling of family community. There was no real communion. I always felt alone, foraging. It all started early, it seems. It's sad. So, no, in a deep way I WASN'T fed. I would forcefeed myself Easter chocolate & Christmas cookies like I'd somehow lose the joy if I didn't swallow as much as I could. I always got scolded, but I never stopped wanting it, more of it than was possible, even when it made me sick & frightened, & I was ashamed & confused & sad. When the eating disorder was in full force I ate a whole cherry-cheese kolachi by myself like I would die tomorrow & I cried. I just wanted the joy, the warmth, the sweetness, the love. I tasted family tradition & grandma's loving care in that roll and I cried. My heart was still so, so hungry. It still is, and I cannot look to ANYONE ELSE to feed it. Only God can, & He wants ME to cooperate in the work. I NEED to fill my life WITH beauty & warmth & joy & love & wonder & sincerity & deep connection. NO ONE ELSE WILL, CAN, OR SHOULD. It's MY JOB & MY PRIVILEGE. That is going to be ESSENTIAL to recovery. I CANNOT "live" from a skinny starving famine ration mindset anymore. I MUST be "poor in spirit," BY trusting in GOD'S ABUNDANCE. It's a holy paradox. This DOESN'T MEAN SELF-NEGLECT. it's just humility & gratitude. I HAVE TO LOVE THIS BODY, AND MIND, AND SOUL, AS A UNITED WHOLE, AS ITS HEART. Please God, help me to feed & care for this life well. And MAKE SURE I FOCUS ALL THESE EFFORTS ON YOU, GOD, THE SOURCE OF ALL LOVE & LIFE.

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✳ Staff girl, watching Coco with us = "HE'S REAL; HE STILL HAS MEAT ON HIS BONES"

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✳ GET EDIBLE "PAPER" & "INK" = EAT AFFIRMATIONS!!! (POWERFUL SYMBOLIC RITUAL)

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Well, we finally got the guts & heart to choose the meatball sub SPECIFICALLY as an ACT OF LOVE "IN HONOR/ MEMORY OF" KRISTANOVA, but all of a sudden, ANOTHER foni is feeling TRAPPED & ANGRY at this, MISERABLE & HELPLESS beneath, like "we STILL can't escape CNC"? Which IS a valid feeling that we NEED to respond to. First, though, we CAN'T AVOID EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH CNC & TBAS out of FEAR &/or RESENTMENT. That's TOXIC TO OUR HEART, & it's also FALSELY LABELING REALITY. This meatball sub effort is STEP ONE in TRULY "ESCAPING" by moving into LOVE & FORGIVING MERCY. The truth is, we ARE OUT OF CNC, PHYSICALLY. But we ARE "TRAPPED" EMOTIONALLY, UNTIL WE CAN MOVE INTO COMPASSION FOR BOTH US & THEM. We'll probably never see Kristanova again. But we DID love him, AND Ollie, AND Kyo & Trolley & Toy Soldier & Thirteen & Ohmiette & everyone else. But Kris did something TO us that DAMAGED us, and SINCE WE KNOW HIS ANCHOR, we KNOW HE DIDN'T MEAN TO. He was just broken, too. So we WANT TO FORGIVE HIM, as much as we MUST. And this upcoming dinner is a real concrete gesture of that, the only thing we can do here towards that end, but one powerfully tangible nevertheless. We bought him one out of sheer gratitude for his existence & he REALIZED & CHERISHED that. LET THIS BE THE CONTINUED SYMBOL OF THAT GRATITUDE. Let it be a private but true TESTIMONY to the REALITY of the LOVE our Systems shared, however trauma-distorted & wounded it was. We STILL LOVED THEM AS MUCH AS WE COULD, in the ONLY WAYS WE KNEW HOW. And I WANT TO FOCUS ON & REMEMBER THAT. In a way, it's a CROSS. It REQUIRES "BEARING" THE SUFFERING dealt by the ONES WE LOVE who "DID NOT KNOW WHAT THEY DID." The Cross CONQUERS DEATH by DYING TO DEATH, THROUGH DEATH-- death TO SIN. And that sinful part of us-- bitterness, resentment, hatred, rage, blame, etc. that WE DON'T WANT & that are IN CONFLICT with the TRUTH-- HAS TO "DIE," THROUGH THIS SELF-GIVING LOVE, EVEN "FOR OUR ENEMIES"-- with the GOAL of FORGIVING them & RESTORING RELATIONSHIP with them AS BELOVEDS.



prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

"In this task you will address opposite forces that reside within you, using animals as metaphors for each of these forces."


PAST SELF-VISION
(WHAT WE RESONATED WITH IN CHILDHOOD; PRIOR TO ~2008)


BAT
(vital to ecosystem but seen as bad; outcast = AESOP fable = "no one wants me for what I am / I don't fit in anywhere")

DOLPHIN
(smart, playful, mischievous, chatterbox) (huge ECCO influence; brave, chosen, mysterious)

COBRA
(charmed by music? venomous but dignified) (damned as evil without fair trial)

FRILLED LIZARD
(hyper? huge influence from "the rescuers" frank. run around, "scare off" danger)

SCORPION
(small & vulnerable, but deadly; star trek 8472 inner conflict = "what IS my true nature" vs others assumptions)

SIAMESE CAT
(talkative, elegant, a bit aloof but friendly)

UNICORN (ALICORN)
(powerful, magical, pure, rare, hunted) (huge influences = AMALTHEA, JEWEL from narnia, Whisper books, etc.)

ALIEN
(feeling utterly "alien". explorer, protector, on a mission, trying to save humans but feared by them) (ANDALITE kin)

BUTTERFLY
(transformed into beauty from "ugly worm"; colorful, vibrant presentation, but evaded being caught or held)

DRAGON (WESTERN)
(seen as either holy or evil. DRACO HEART our biggest vibe = Dragonheart movie AND Sigurd myth. fire inside. KINTYPE)

GULPER EEL
(unloved and unseen, but glowing in the dark. hidden depths of soul feeling; dies if taken up to the shallow surface)

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"CURRENT" SELF-VISION
(RESONANCES FROM '08-'18?)


PRAYING MANTIS
(religious appearance but pray/prey battle inside. deadly predator but fragile body. intimacy ends in murder.)

JACKAL
("dog" as a religious slur, yet ironically divine (anubis) = psychopomp. "will eat anything" spiritual scavenger danger)

OCTOPUS?
(super smart but live a solitary existence. studied and caged. strange, viewed as alien/ divine. soft body, eaten)

SHARK?
(predator with a soft skeleton. feared, hated, deemed dangerous & aggressive. no chance to prove goodness)

PHOENIX?
(resurrection from cyclical immolation deaths. soul of fire. eats incense. its tears and songs have healing powers)

DRAGON (EASTERN)
(protector of sacred things. flight without exertion. mysterious, wise, guards & guides people. sign of good luck)

RAM?
(sacrificial animal = takes away sins of others. shofar horn = call to prayer & repentance, signal of God)

DEER? (PERYTON?)
(psalm 42. "archetype" animal. sacred, connection to supernatural, heavenly messengers. "HART" pun)

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IDEAL SELF-VISION

I think I will ALWAYS feel like a BAT/ DRAGON the most, but I DO still resonate SO HARD with unicorns? And child-me feels "alien" still, too.
JAY was VERY MUCH A PHOENIX. one of them was also EXPLICITLY an eastern dragon kintype (white in color), and often became one in headspace.
I just don't feel like a bird. But I DO FLY.




100524

Oct. 5th, 2024 03:49 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

✳ I "HATE" WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME "ARE YOU DOING ALL RIGHT?" "ARE YOU FEELING OKAY?" etc. BECAUSE IT FEELS LIKE THEY'RE IMPLYING OR EVEN DICTATING THAT I'M NOT, EVEN IF I AM OKAY. WHY ARE YOU PLANTING BAD SEEDS IN MY HEAD??? I want to say, "YEAH, I AM OKAY; STOP SAYING/ TELLING ME THAT I'M NOT"!!
✳ PRACTICE "FRUSTRATION TOLERANCE" = GROW PEACE!

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So, at my dear nutritionist's request, I tried the chicken corndog today instead of the pizza, and unfortunately they were SHOCKINGLY TRIGGERING and it shook me up SO BADLY that I need to journal about it, or it'll make me even more physically ill than it already has, haha. All coping-attempt jokes aside, I'm legit shaking. First, the cornmeal coating "activated" SOME childhood(?) memory, but it's so unclear I can't "see" it. But it "pinged" IMMEDIATELY so it's legit. The only thing I'm "SEEING" is COUNTRY JUNCTION in the fall?? And POSSIBLY something with FAST FOOD. Was there some place that sold palm-size, ROUND & semiflat cornbread discs/ patties? Because THAT'S the image flash I'm getting from the VERY SPECIFIC & UNIQUE flavor: it's NOT what "REAL" or even "box" cornbread tastes like, and it has a "sweeter" tone & "heavier" flavor than mom's cornbread cookies or pancakes. This is PARTICULARLY "processed" cornmeal 7 the ONLY thing I CAN "associate" with it that IS pinging CLOSE is HUSHPUPPIES from Long John Silvers, but they ALSO have a "wheat" tone (white, not yellow) so it's NOT exact. But man, that was a TOTALLY NEW MEMORY CALLUP so I AM grateful.
...The problem is the memory that the HOT DOG triggered. It was ALMOST the EXACT taste, AND the EXACT TEXTURE, as the hot dogs that grandma would chop up & mix with pork n' beans. ...which, as you know, was the exact food she pretended to choke to death on when I was a child. I can still see her still body on the yellow tile floor. I can smell the distinguishing perfume of her clothes. I can still see my young face in the bathroom mirror, contorted in unbearable terror & grief, as I screamed like the world had ended. I can still taste the hot dogs & beans as they fell, half-chewed, from my agonized mouth into the ghastly green sink. Every time I taste a hot dog I am right back in that moment. I don't know how to deal with it. I haven't eaten a hot dog in YEARS. So this was SO sudden & SO unexpected that it made it SO MUCH MORE DISTURBING. I'm genuinely shaking. I feel like a child again, weeping hysterically & totally helpless & confused & maybe even angry? Why did she do that? Didn't she know I loved her? Didn't she realize how much that would hurt me? But she WASN'T dead. The world hadn't ended. But that minute of sheer apocalyptic terror had been scalded into my soul. I couldn't possibly finish eating those hot dogs, seeing them all chewed up in the sink, proof of the wound I had just received. But I had to. But I don't remember. All I remember is her suddenly resuscitated, standing & laughing with an unsettling insincerity as she stood at the bartable by my empty seat & half-full bowl, jeering at my response. I remember a hurricane of emotions that I couldn't understand. Then it all got shoved back into the black ocean of dissociation, and I sat down, and I don't remember anything, and I ate. Like I did today.
...I've never actually processed it, it seems. And so I thank God for this revelation, to bring it back into present recall, to make it real & present, so I can (by grace, with time) finally feel & heal that scalded wound. But it's still so tender & terrible. It hurts. I'm shaking. How do I deal with this, right now? Focus on the LOVE. I love her anyway. That wound PROVED it. Forgive. Give thanks.

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I'M A "BAD PERSON" ONLY WITHOUT GOD'S GRACE!!! But REMEMBER YOU ARE BAPTIZED & YOU HAVE HIS GRACE AND HIS HOLY SPIRIT!!! STOP DOUBTING THIS JUST BECAUSE YOU STILL STRUGGLE WITH CONCUPISCENCE AND SIN. YOU'RE NOT GOD. YOU WILL STUMBLE. HE KNOWS THIS. HE WON'T & CAN'T ABANDON YOU-- HE IS A GOD OF COVENANT!!!

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"What did I learn about myself this week?" = that I'm STILL being "beaten up/ thrown around/ "CONTROLLED" by "TWISTED CORE BELIEFS" that have persisted for YEARS. (AND ONLY BECAUSE YOU AREN'T UNTWISTING THEM TOGETHER!!!)
✳ SERIOUSLY, START REVIEWING THE ARCHIVE DATA ON THIS & TAKE NOTES. WE KNEW WHAT WE WERE DOING. WE MUST CONTINUE ON FROM THERE! (AND START "EDITING" IT INTO PUBLISHABLE BOOK FORMAT!!!)

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"EATING" IS STILL "THE ENEMY" IN SOME WAY??? The therapist said "MEALPLANS" are a "STEP TO RECOVERY" & that sounded SO "STUPID"/ SHALLOW it made me FURIOUS?? It felt like she was saying that, if I "just spend MORE time & effort on FOOD"-- notably "EXCESS/ LUXURY" food variation that WASTES TIME & EFFORT & ENERGY that I COULD be using to LIVE & CREATE & WORSHIP, IF I KEEP "MEALPLANNING" SIMPLE & STRAIGHTFOWARD & HUMBLE, INSTEAD OF "FIGURING OUT WHAT NEW THING TO DO/ EAT" WHICH IS IDIOTIC-- then "IT'LL FIX YOUR TRAUMA." And THAT is REALLY distilling the impact but it's TRUE. "Inventing" a ridiculously unnecessary list of "meal plans" when I ONLY NEED THREE, TOPS, and can FREELY ADAPT, is going to JUST BECOME ANOTHER OBSESSIVE-UNHEALTHY FOOD COMPULSION that TAKES ME AWAY FROM TRUE HEALTH/ RECOVERY. I apologize, it just stung. I DO agree that having A "standing plan" (SIMPLE!!!) DOES help, so we HAVE a "go to" solution in a pinch, instead of thinking "what I "SHOULD" EAT" & being OVERWHELMED BY TOO MUCH VARIETY/ OPTIONS. BUT I WANT A SET, SIMPLE SCHEDULE. I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT FOOD ANYMORE. LIFE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN FOOD!!! It's ONLY FUEL for it... AND an OFFERING of GRATITUDE TO GOD. But it's NOT THE POINT! And it's NOT TRUE LIFE!!!


prismaticbleed: (shatter)

Some "FEAR/ CHALLENGE/ AVERSE" foods I MUST face with LOVE to be HEALED/ FREE =
1) APPLESAUCE= see next pageturn.
2) FRUIT CUP(S)= see next pageturn.
3) POPCORN= vague childhood TV terror. CNC & SLC cinema. UNEXPECTEDLY TERRIFYING??? Also "DIRTY HANDS." GRANDPA CLOSET FILTH. +Halloween? Boy Scount sales?
4) NUTRIGRAIN= CNC & grandpa's closet.
5) RITZ= old binge food, often STALE/RANCID. Also "belong to mom" (with her cheeses)? Fear of being punished for eating them
6) OATMEAL RAISIN= something about the taste feels so wrong. "fruit + grain" unnatural fusion? tastes like garbled data to our brain. +They turn to SLUDGE when you eat them.
7) OATS & HONEY BAR= Filthy crumbles. Typically stale/rancid. Feels like eating garbage scrap, not real food.
8) PIZZA= too many bad situation memories
9) BACON= CNC trauma

TRIGGERS put you into FIGHT/ FLIGHT/ FREEZE/ FAWN!!!


"FEAR" FOODS are ACTIVELY tied to TRAUMA and/or seen as an IMMINENT DEATH RISK.
● BACON is BOTH; I fear that eating pig is morally fatal (OT laws & symbolism); if I eat it then I will BECOME a pig. I also fear that it's "unhealthy," which has NO "wiggle room"; if I eat it I WILL have clogged arteries & I CAN'T "UNDO IT" or "take it back." It's PERMANENT DAMAGE. There is NO MERCY with food fears!! It's ABSOLUTE, IRREVOCABLE, & ultimately FATAL. But the worst fear here IS the "IDENTITY CORRUPTION" through "CHOOSING" to CONSUME it; it's DIRECTLY TIED to SXABUSE. if I "let the pig in," it will TAKE OVER & DEVOUR ME like a PARASITE and "I" WON'T EXIST ANYMORE-- or worse, if I DO, it'll be like having a YEERK.
● BACON is ALSO historically tied to SXABUSE EVENTS, so FLASHBACKS OCCUR INEVITABLY. Preparation CAN slightly assuage this by triggering different memories (like mom making it at home), BUT the very "FACT" of bacon consumption HAPPENED at "THOSE TIMES" is undeniable & CANNOT BE TURNED OFF.
● PIGS in general are frightening MORALLY, because I see them SYMBOLICALLY. They represent, & "therefore MANIFEST," FILTH, UNCLEANLINESS, GLUTTONY, BOORISHNESS? They're "ANIMALISTIC" in the sense of "TOTAL DEPRAVITY," plump & mud-caked, rolling in filth & digging their face INTO it in ORDER to eat, snorting & oinking & squealing, stinking horribly, laying inert & sated in the mud, & looking "suggestive" with their pink, taut, round, FAT (plump) bodies, hairy & dirty & fleshy. They "look like the filth of sex." The food/ eating is SECONDARY, almost an OUTGROWTH. The MAIN horror about pigs is SEX & FILTH. They just "PROJECT/ INFLICT" that ONTO eating, because EATING, ALWAYS, IN & OF ITSELF, IS "SEXUAL." It's inherently "erotic." (Discuss that LATER) So PIGS are ABHORRENT & SCANDALOUS, BECAUSE they are so FILTHY WITH FOOD WHILE BEING SO "ANIMALISTICALLY SEXUAL." They're DEHUMANIZING in totality & so IF I EAT ONE, I'M TAKING THAT INTO ME AND IT BECOMES MY BODY, which therefore DEHUMANIZES ME AND I CAN'T "TAKE IT BACK/ GET IT OUT." (THE ONLY HOPE IS TO PURGE)
MATTHEW 15:11 & 17-20!!! GET THAT INTO YOUR HEAD AND HEART! Study it extensively if you have to, but THE PIG CANNOT "MAKE YOU EVIL"!!!
● Last trauma we haven't discussed= ham is what I associate with grandma's death AND MY FAILURE TO BE THERE FOR HER ON THAT LAST EASTER, because HAM is what I ate that "SET OFF" THAT FATAL BINGE THAT LANDED ME IN THE E.R. & TOOK ME FROM HER. But... look at Matthew again. You're SHIFTING BLAME. YOU BINGED ON HAM.The PIG didn't sin OR cause YOU to! It COULD have been OFFERED to GOD as a JOYFUL CELEBRATION of LIFE like Easter "feasts" are SUPPOSED to. BUT even that WORD is "evil" & disgusting & I HATE it. WHY. = it's because in my mind/ experience, "feasts" are ALWAYS gluttonous, & eating "too much" is PUNISHED EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T MEAN IT OR WERE JUST THAT HUNGRY OR WERE EATING IN GRATITUDE. "Feast" means you are WATCHED & SUSPECTED & CRITICIZED & SHAMED & PUNISHED & even RATIONED. The "joy" is FORCIBLY LIMITED & therefore HOLLOW. There's NO ABUNDANCE.
● Weirdly but DIRECTLY & VITALLY RELATED is actually the GRINCH story. I hated it as a kid because the Whos were PORTRAYED & DESCRIBED as GENUINELY GOOD & NICE & FRIENDLY, and so when THEY feasted it WAS JOYFUL & GRATEFUL & ABUNDANT, & they ate as TRUE FAMILY in FRIENDSHIP together... but I had no comprehension of that as a kid. It "looked" hypocritical & performative to me because THAT'S ALL I KNEW. And I felt like the Grinch, who I ALSO "hated" AS A RESULT because he was described as UTTERLY GROSS & REPREHENSIBLE, and if "he was LIKE ME," then THAT HORRID SONG WAS ABOUT ME. And I heard the WHOS singing it, like I heard my family. And that DISSONANCE was intolerable. There they were, happy & FEASTING, yet SINGING ABOUT HOW UGLY I WAS & how they DETESTED ME & wanted NOTHING TO DO WITH ME, WHILE SMILING & EATING, and I was outside in the cold, unwanted & unwelcome & HUNGRY for not just food but LOVE & COMMUNITY & MERCY & WELCOME, but they were FEASTING on it & although THERE WAS PLENTY TO SHARE WITH ME, TOO, I'M NOT ALLOWED TO BE FED. I'M NOT ALLOWED TO BE PART OF THEM & THEIR LIFE. I'm unlovable. I'm inherently undesirable and I'm filthy. And that MAKES you a "grinch." It also means eating scraps of garbage & that becoming YOUR "normal."


✳God GAVE me PORK CARNITAS for lunch IMMEDIATELY after I wrote that ↑ & they were WONDERFUL! NO FEAR!! Which SHOCKED me. PORK is SAFE?? Ham & bacon AREN'T? At least in theory.
+ ADDING to this, God ALSO gave us APPLESAUCE... and similarly it was only "half triggering" & in DIFFERENT WAYS that I DIDN'T THEORIZE?? It also WASN'T SCARY, just a challenge. The SCARY/ DISTURBING part was the TEXTURE, & having to eat it with a spoon. It's the MESS, the SLOP, the LACK OF STRUCTURE/ FORM?? And spoons are TOTALLY chaotic, haha. There's NO SOLIDITY. But THAT'S a question = I'm aware of & dealing with the sticky/ crumbs/ spills/ etc. struggles, but the TEXTURE & FORMLESSNESS? Where is THAT rooted? Wait are they BOTH related to CHILDHOOD??? Is it tied to fear of PUNISHMENT for BEING MESSY? It also feels like "ROT" fear, like leaving food out on the counter or in the refrigerator for so long that it DOES turn to mush/ slop, and you STILL HAVE TO EAT IT?? Also, some part of me DOESN'T RECOGNIZE "LIQUIDS" AS FOOD. "Firm" things like jello & pudding don't count UNTIL/ UNLESS they start to MELT. Then the "degradation" fear happens. It's SO disturbing. And yet I don't think soup does this! Is it the WATERY NATURE that makes it safe? That seems legit actually. This concept might be "instinctive disgust" then, related to fear of eating rotten/ spoiled/ rancid food. ALSO the DENATURING. Juice in a cup is SO far removed from the reality of a fruit that it triggers some sort of kneejerk revulsion. My brain doesn't register ultraprocessed "food" as edible at ALL when that fact is apparent. And BTW YOU ARE NOT "OBLIGATED" TO FORCE-EAT THOSE FOODS AFTER DISCHARGE!! You SHOULD be choosing WHOLE FOODS to ACTUALLY FEED & NOURISH your poor body at last! Yes you CAN have something a bit processed when you eat out with mom, or when it would be MORE PRUDENT TO eat such food in a pinch or social situation; those foods ARE ALLOWED STILL; they CAN STILL BE OFFERED TO GOD IN GRATEFUL PRAISE, & they AREN'T "EVIL" OR "UNCLEAN"! You CAN worship God BY eating a bag of chips & fastfood sandwich IF you are doing so WITH the HONEST INTENTION to NOURISH YOUR BODY the BEST YOU CAN in that situation, ESPECIALLY if the EDIFICATION OF/ COMMUNION WITH OTHERS IS INVOLVED, and to DO ALL OF IT FOR GOD'S GLORY, WITH LOVE & THANKS & PRAISE FOR THE GIFT OF FOOD & LIFE & HEALING. Live FOR ETERNITY, even right now!


✳ WHY is there still so much AVERSION, perhaps a deeper FEAR, towards FRUIT FLAVORS? and fruit CUPS & JUICE?? Is this fear as applicable to those SAME fruits when FRESH? Why or why not? WHAT is CAUSING this distinction? IS IT GLOBAL or PARTICULAR?
1) Putting ANYTHING in one of those PLASTIC CUPS for "SNACKS" feels DEGRADING?? Like a "stripping of dignity." Does it make me feel like an animal? What about TEXTURE? Because APPLESAUCE isn't just "scary," it feels almost DEHUMANIZING. Like if I eat it, I'm placed in a position BELOW the dignity/ respect/ rights of a "real/ normal" person??? Is that because of the "processed/ artificialized/ denatured" aspect of ROBBING the FORM from the food & putting the resulting mush in a plastic cup? mass processed & utterly detached from TRUTH & nature as it was CREATED? and making ME eat THAT is DAMNING MY BODY/ SOUL/ FORM to the SAME???




prismaticbleed: (anx-happy)
 

Generally I only enjoy children's fantasy, and never the traditional "wizards and elves" sort; even as a child I leaned hard towards "modern fantasy" with a fair dose of scifi mixed in, and enjoyed "creature"-oriented tales-- the more dragons, unicorns, and even aliens, the better. I admittedly was alienated myself by the typical "slice of life" books; my own life was markedly isolated, both privately & publicly, shot through with trauma and mental health issues, and I had only my own imagination to keep me company, so I could not relate whatsoever to anything BUT explicit fantasy.

So, growing up, I was profoundly influenced and inspired by several YA "fantasy" series, notably= "Young Wizards" by Diane Duane, "The Time Quintet" by Madeleine L'Engle, "Animorphs" by K.A. Applegate, and "The Seventh Tower" by Garth Nix-- as well as the standalone books "The Prince of Whales" by R.L. Fisher and "The Blue Cat of Castle Town" by Catherine Coblentz. (I mention them all in great gratitude; they are all still on my bookshelf and I plan to reread them all soon.)
Of all these, I must especially highlight the first three books of "Young Wizards" (the only ones my small school library had) which were absolutely formative for me. They deal with some very Christian themes, such as the drama of original sin & the Fall itself, the cosmic origin & unity of all creatures in The Divine Word, the sanctity of life & family, the offered hope of redemption for even the worst sinners, and the earthshaking power of sacrificial love.

For the record, I also dearly treasured the children's books "The Unicorn Who Had No Horn" by Margaret Holland, "The Baby Unicorn" by Jean & Claudio Marzollo, all the "Whisper the Winged Unicorn" stories, and every little gem I could find by Stephen Cosgrove (Serendipity, Flutterbyes, Earth Angels). You can tell what my favorite mythological creature is, I'm sure.
In general, I love children's fantasy because it seems to always have a pithy yet gentle "moral" to it. There is waiting within each tale, for those who sincerely seek, a gracious gem of virtuous wisdom, small & clear enough for a young mind to grasp and cherish, and keep close for life.



033123

Apr. 1st, 2023 10:30 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

Absolute hell morning.

Woke up at 8? Fell back asleep, because we were abruptly re-awoken by the building maintenance guy randomly knocking on our door at 9am, to clean our shower drain.
I remember this because there is one flashbulb moment of us in pajamas, with this guy pouring a vile-smelling white sludge into said drain, then telling us to leave it there for a few hours.

We had barely gotten 5 hours of sleep at this point, but there was no way we were getting any more, as the bathroom is adjacent to the bedroom and the whole place now reeked like a chemical spill.
We opened the windows wide, dragged out the fans and plugged them in, then sat down on the living room couch with a n95 mask and a blanket over our head.
we couldn't breathe very well like that but at least it didn't smell like inhaling poison. we couldn't leave the house as we couldn't wash up, so all we could do was try to sleep and pray.

we were so exhausted and stressed out we "blackout slept" on and off until church at 1130.
i assume we did use the bathroom sink? were we holding our breath? there is literally NO memory between sitting on the couch and being in church

today was stations. unfortunately, today the organist decided to play a guitar instead????
now i apologize but we loathe acoustic guitars, especially in church, for synaesthetic reasons. they are literally painful to hear. they are a flatsharp yellow-orange sound, in a terrible sort of sideways triangle shape jumble. like auditory doritos, but made out of knives being jammed into your eardrums. horrid stuff. i'm sorry this is how our brain works.
amusingly as it sounds in hindsight, we "offered it up" as part of the stations of the cross, haha. also as a pride-killer, as our stupid intrusive girlthoughts like to pipe up "we're such a good singer!!" when really we sound like a laryngitic mule. they're emptyheaded snits and it is so exhausting to always have this battery of vapid arrogance twittering in the background, when we're in social situations (and therefore cut off from system coherency).

we couldn't stay to pray afterwards because they were setting up the church for palm Sunday. so we went down the street to SJE, our favorite church-- the inside feels like a soul sanctuary; it's cold and vast and solitary and full of shadow-color light. BUT there was someone sitting in the back of the church?? and THEN the cleaning guy came in with a legit power vacuum sort of thing, to clean the floors. so we couldn't even pray there, because social mode infliction was deafening and our brain cannot internally focus in that environment, due to instinctive survival terror.

went to get some shopping done instead, as we had to bide time to let the apartment air out.
we had, however, forgotten reusable shopping bags. we had to use cardboard boxes instead.
we just got some basic items, not much, which is good because we were SO DISSOCIATIVE we couldn't even talk to genesis. everything was a muddy blur. the combined sleep deprivation and stress was not helping.
even so, two different dudes asked to help us carry our armloads of grocery boxes, haha. it was super nice.

catholic radio was ranting about the "transgender agenda" again. it has been on EVERY TIME i turn on the radio and it's beginning to frighten me. there's so much anger, so much force. i'm not asking anyone to "change their beliefs"-- no, catholicism is supposed to stand as a rock. what i am wishing for is more empathy, more compassion, for those of us who AREN'T part of the "rainbow brigade" doing all that scandalously lascivious garbage to children, but who WERE children when we realized we WERE trans, WITHOUT ANY OUTSIDE INFLUENCE. we're quietly trying to survive while all this insanity roars around us. and yeah, a lot of us are catholic too. i wish that was recognized and discussed, instead of just "all these transgenders are caught in the devil's trap" because lord knows i can't shut this off. i've tried. i've tried. but doing so would be more of a lie than living as the opposite binary option.
the whole thing makes me sick.  I don't want to associate with the "lgbtq" movement at ALL but I can't deny the dysphoria that haunts me every waking moment.

got home for 230, and the apartment smelled okay thank GOD

even so, we were a total mess. shambles mentally.
Trying to undress & unpack & clean & pray all at once
Stressed & exhausted. wanted to cry but no emotion. so depleted we were numb.

Finally BK prep at 333
Very hard for anyone to front. julie really the only one getting any anchors down, we were all riding on that foundation.
Then RIGHT when we finally get together and start the eggs, MOM CALLS.
felt like someone had popped a balloon in our solar plexus. horrific washed-out shock. could not handle any more stress. don't even remember answering the phone. the hard shift from "finally headspace" to social mode hell was unbearable. wanted to die.

God is throwing me all over the place today and I'm struggling so much. Honestly I don't know if He's just purposely pushing my patience to the limit or what, but it's just showing me how weak and stupid and frustrated I am, and I really just want to collapse.
By the way, when I talk like that^ I have no real sense of identity. it's all a bodyvoice and it's all the flat-affect female voice and then people wonder why I'm so terrified is being seen as female? because this absolutely vicious Lack of self is all the only thing it means.

but God, please, I'm so tired. i don't even have the strength to think.

PROMISED Xennie I'd go to living Stations with her
Did so, it was ALL KIDS, oddly very poignant that way. jarring to see everything being done with children-- the trial, the cross, the nails. really made it hit home in a different sense.
Then went straight to home church for traditional stations, haha. we miss those. haven't gone to our church so far this lent because of schedule trouble. but tonight it worked.
we miss it, really. they don't make the church as dark as they used to when we were a kid. probably because our parishioners are so much older now and can't see in the dark, but still... there was something very sacred about all the shadow, pierced only by the candles which we frequently had the honor of carrying.
so many of our favorite childhood memories are religious, and tinged with the scents of candleflame and incense and churchwood. honestly our heart lives in those memories.
makes me think of our "cathedral," and how it has been inaccessible and even undetectable since cnc, if not before. everything collapsed, even the city itself. but... perhaps that was for the best. we were a disaster in the slc/cnc eras, and our faith was a gullible twisted parody of truth. now, though, we're able to see roots through the rubble. we need to put more sincere, dedicated time into that, soon. just meditation hours in headspace like we used to. remember things. discover things. be.

Dinner late, no memory of it whatsoever

Night archiving
YT HELL DISTRACTIONS for an hour though
all i remember watching for sure was some sth fandub, which admittedly did make us laugh aloud at a few points (a notable feat, considering how numb i mentioned we are) BUT the rest of it had such filthy language and filthier jokes that we wanted to throw up. closed everything off and walked away from the computer tempted to literally do so. disgusted with the world. how and why are people even like that.

Ended the night reading old Xangas & listening to "Violent Sun" with Laurie.
...really, that was the golden lining of everything today. i was so beaten-down by life, that when everything turned to the merciful night silence, and our body and mind could rest, i was so thoroughly bruised that everything ached. so, listening to raw data feel, and noticing that so many of the lyrics were as relevant as swords in my ribs, i just...
...lately i've been spending a lot of time with laurie, all things considered. even if it's only a few seconds here and there, even if it's just her checking in to make sure i'm okay, even if it's just her quietly standing behind me at night and asking me what i'm doing, when are you going to get some sleep, kid is there anything i can do to help, even if it's just glimpses like galaxy-arms in a distant telescope she's there.
i don't remember exactly what i did or said other than aching. my heart hurt so much it was the most real thing i had felt in weeks probably. but there was too much bruise-tender hope in this song, it caught me entirely off guard, and it was singing about her, how often does that happen, especially for this lunatic, this error, i'm too old to be crying but here we are.
i think i just looked at her, just for a moment. can't stare at the sun for too long. solar flares in my chest.
just. please. don't forget. at like 2 in the morning, with the music encapsulating the world, still standing behind me, i heard that violet voice speak in response to my everything,
"hey, kid, for the record... I'm in love with you too."


(i made her promise, don't you dare change. don't be like all the others. don't let those words change anything between us. because nothing has changed, there's just a light shining on the heart of it now.)
(she grinned at me like a knife, the way i love, and promised to keep that blessed edge forever.)

031623

Mar. 15th, 2023 11:04 pm
prismaticbleed: (Default)

Heck of a day today.
Quick update to get back into the groove.

Woke up around 8am? In and out of sleep until 10:30. Legit WARFARE against hacks.
Worst part was that, as always, when we're asleep during the day (i.e. whenever there's legit sunlight), we cannot get into a "safe place" of sleep. It ends up in that dangerous liminal space, where you're half-aware but completely loopy and unable to reason. 95% of our hacks happen then, because that's when you can be targeted AS an individual-- many of our night dreams are dissociative, too.
Infi was being used. It was terrifying. Ze was acting... just like ze did in CNC. "I'll do whatever you want me to." That programming ze was born for, tragically. Self-objectification, but never seeing it as such. Just being the "lover" with no thought to self or consequence. Well I fought it, and I-- as confounded as my own consciousness was-- kept telling hir that I didn't want that from hir, ze shouldn't want TO do that, etc.
Somehow we ESCAPED SAFELY. The body woke up, UNHACKED, and within seconds I felt Infi run to me in headspace, throw hir arms around my waist, and sob. It was heartwrenching. Ze felt so small and powerless. Since CNC, ze has lost that "angelic" feeling entirely, which is sadly understandable as ze "fell" very fatally, but it's still disturbing to perceive. Even so I'm glad ze's still alive. I comforted them the best I could.
I don't think Chaos 0 was targeted in the dream, thank God. He's virtually impossible to use; Infi is the exact opposite-- like I said, hir original function was to be a trauma cooperator. Chaos has fought any and all hackers with all his rage since the very beginning.

We went to church, which we could barely concentrate for again because our brain was still super foggy, we were still dizzy & lightheaded, and our body was still twitching and spasming. Honestly we have no clue what's going on and it's concerning.
After mass we did some quick shopping-- we got extra oats, triscuits, and ultima for emergencies, and grabbed a pack of white christmas lights from walmart. Unfortunately, upon getting home we realized they were LED and as such they are cool white, NOT warm, although it says that on the box. But they lean blue, not amber, so we have to return them tomorrow.

Honestly by the time we got home, unpacked, and made food, it was like 330. Breakfast prep, like church, was upsetting and disoriented, and it was hard to even hold or maneuver the utensils due to how floaty our head felt. We kept dropping things, and our dexterity was severely impacted. Talking upstairs was affected too, since our general consciousness was so compromised. I remember telling Laurie that we were "so tired we could cry," from sheer exhaustion. The body was painfully hungry, too.
But, once again, when we started to eat, we had no appetite at all. We were full within five minutes, and then had to fight the urge to throw up from nausea. What gives?
Anyway, I told Xenophon I was determined to keep it down, so I did, but it was rough. The body felt wrecked.
We sat down on the couch and read the materials for tonight's Catechism group. By the time we did so, what with our brain like it was, it was time to leave.

The group itself lasted 2.5 HOURS. It was great, though. Unfortunately-- as usual, due to "social mode" mechanics EVEN in religious contexts (I wonder who fronts for THAT?)-- we do not remember ANY of the discussion. Maybe if we reviewed the papers, we could access some data, but there's like... nothing offhand, just general "feelings" of what we talked about: mentioning that we were "going through a religious crisis," how we were so frustrated with "positive affirmations" in therapy, the problem of "relative truth & morality" in today's culture, and everyone trying to reason out exactly why Jesus flipped the tables if He was "kind and gentle." That last one had us restless; we couldn't put into words what we knew about such an action FROM LAURIE. I know we said "He still loved the money-changers as well as the pilgrims and THAT is why He flipped the tables" but no one seemed to grasp our point. Like sometimes you need an uppercut to the jaw to stop being such a jerk, but it's done out of love. Headspace stuff, haha. Of course we didn't think of that at the time, but the ambient data is making us think of it now. I apologize, our mind is still a mess. Suffice to say it was a good group, but we always feel like we're "blabbering" (whatever we say) and we never feel like ourself.
OH. Other bizarre thing. We were sitting next to one of the guys from church, and since everyone was seated close together, at one point we realized that he "smelled like every other guy we knew" OUTSIDE of the family??? like there was a "typical male" smell? like the same with women. it was SO WEIRD. i'm sorry if this is triggering, it sure was at the time, but it was also strangely comfortable? like although we've never been attracted to men, that particular scent is tied to memories of qlok and even mc. nice guys. but our dad smells different; much less sharp, more leathery. we wouldn't mind if we had that scent, really, especially now that we're on t again. i always joke that "my favorite candles smell like my dad" anyway so hey. but yeah bizarre topic, definitely triggering in some very subconscious brain place, but still an important thing to note.
hm. i wonder if it's so fascinating because of our weird latent obsession with aromachology. but people smell so strange. so different. i'm not used to that. we've had very limited close contact with humans our entire life, so when we are close enough to know what someone smells like, it's very significant actually. and it sticks. it's said that scent is a very spiritual sense, and also that it is the most powerful memory trigger. we can get behind both of those claims for sure.
...we still remember exactly what mel smelled like, as well as qlok. deeply fond of them both. mc smelled like q, but just slightly different enough-- less green, more orange? synaesthetically of course. and tbas too, we remember fragments of that. lots of severe triggers there, but no hard feelings. just sorrow & regrets.
we used to laugh that we could "do laundry with our eyes closed" in the family home because everyone had SUCH particular smells. grandpa especially. mom has that musky-sweet tone that still triggers us, despite its familiarity. grandma's scent CHANGED over the years; when we were young, it was more perfumey (she always wore some), but as she aged, it got softer? it was such a soothing smell. we miss it terribly. but then it changed again when she got cancer and got closer to death. that smell is burned into our brain, heartbreakingly so. we still have the blanket she died in. it's so strange. it smells like her, but not.
weirdly, right now, we cannot remember what our brothers smelled like. not since childhood at least. that's very telling for our brain. and it's clearer when we think of their possessions. like i know what jade's plush whales & spiders smelled like. and i know what diamond's plush seals smelled like. and i know what astra's coats smelled like, because we would always borrow them. it's so strange. i even remember what their hair smelled like. not sure how, haha. but this is all childhood data. of all of them, we liked diamond's scent the most. jade's was very musky, like mom, and astra's leaned too warm-tone? but diamond's was lighter, almost grey at the edges. clean, not sharp.
i couldn't even tell you what this body smells like. the only "scent" we identify with is, again, tied to childhood memory and objects-- notably unisalia, and our grandma's bed. it's more like the scents around us.
but we can't imagine. we can't picture ourself in third person, in a body. every time we try, we remember someone else. and we miss everyone so, so much.
regardless. nothing else to say there for now.


got home for 9pm. exhausted. so hungry and shaky and weak, we could barely think straight.
ate a small dinner, but immediately after we got SO unbelievably nauseous, I almost had to run to the bathroom to throw up. like i was looking for zofran, that's how bad it was. again, what the heck is going on.
it wasn't too bad though. two small purges. nothing painful. we ate a few more triscuits/ evoo/ broccoli to compensate, then did the nightly kitchen cleanup and sat down here to type.

however. most important things.
julie ended up pushed to front DURING the "compensation" meal attempt. not sure who she was talking to? guide voices? but she was out, ALONE, for a few minutes. surreal.
she mentioned to laurie & jay later that "it felt like she was watching the body as a spectator," like although she was in it, "it was running almost entirely on automatic" even so. she felt genuinely sorry for it. said it seemed so lost and confused, helpless. notably said that, seeing it struggle so feebly, she wanted to help take care of it, now, especially after what she did to it in the past.
she's still one of the ONLY foni in the entire system who HAS body access and ISN'T a social-- and many socials DON'T actually have body access, just voice access!! the body has been a helltrigger cesspit for years except when we were about to die from malnourishment, ironically. right now, virtually nobody can front in it as a result of the dyspho/dysmo crashes, and our despair over "getting irreparably old and unhealthy" post-hospital. but that's not a topic to explore tonight. point is, we need to look at it like julie did tonight-- as some poor thing placed in our care, that isn't us, and yet is still inherently and irrevocably attached to us. someone who needs us to take care of her, because nobody else in the world will, as wretched and rejected as she is.
so strange how the body feels like its OWN thing and ALWAYS HAS. like it has the mental capacity of an infant. no verbal communication skills. ironically feels "not human" in contrast to all others. no wonder spine is the nousfoni who anchored into it as its original "ambassador!" GEEZ she needs to come back soon

other notes.
jay was talking to celebi for a decent while, either tonight or this morning. data is fuzzy due to fatigue.
noted that her core-relationship was tied to the JAYCES??? very specific personal tie. can't find that person in the system, due to being bloodline-locked (same-line cores can't co-habitate in headspace?). but we recognize their vibe if we "seek it out" in memory tied to her. not sure if that means he still exists, or not. cores tend to fracture.

this evening, jay talking to xenophon while taking recyclables out as usual. not sure what they discussed. just want to note that their interactions are completely natural and honest at this point, which means a great deal to him. completely overrides body awareness

jay asking God "why did You let this evening happen" effectively. not angry, just distressed. it hurts, it's scary, it makes us ill, why this? what good could possibly come out of this?
the reply: God nudged him to remember the conversation he had with Laurie and Julie as they cleaned up. everyone shaken up and sad and tired. so they were being more honest and real about the struggle of life in general. not sure what they said specifically, but jay has this tendency to "flip" from despair to hope in those situations. still sad, but brightly so? very much his vibe. but they were talking, and i think just generally checking if everyone else was okay, are we taking care of each other, what else can we do for each other, etc. and jay, not even facing her, just says to laurie "i love you." out of nowhere. and she gave him this look. totally caught off guard, and straight to the heart. he remembered that, her expression and the wound-ache of love he felt in return, and heard God (Jesus) say "if that was the sole good that would come out of your suffering tonight, would you agree to suffer through it if you knew?" and jay said, "well yeah." jesus laughed and said "you didn't even have to think about it! but child, that's how i feel about you." etc. basically, sometimes suffering is meant TO bring you to such a humbled broken place that such doggedly honest love can be expressed. jay telling me he felt this sort of heartaching sweet surrender to the fact of it? like, on a small level, he understood Christ kissing the cross, even though He knew it would be agony. it's because He knew how much love was in the carrying nevertheless. He focused on the "joy set before Him", the joy of restored relationship with His friends. etc. little glimpses, we get. but shocking to realize that, even this mistake and stumbling, God could take and use and transmute into something good. like it didn't start that way, but because we refused to give in and still tried, still hoped, still did our best to love, God was able to make it serve His purposes more directly. hard to put in words. but means a lot. like, evil can never get the upper hand, ever. no matter what happens, if we fight the good fight of faith, and offer even our failures to the Lord, He can and will use them as crosses for the victory of Love. important stuff. soul of our system at large. always

last notes. jay says write this down even though he's... reticent? no. "too significant a small thing to be discussed so openly." ah. "something that seems unimportant, even ridiculous, but isn't."
kid i know where this is going
didn't we just come across this same damn topic in an old xanga? from like ten freakin years ago?
why are you still so ashamed to admit love?

well i wasn't today, that's the point, i was blindsided and i wasn't thinking, i was just overwhelmed.
but that's what bypasses the secondhand shame response. that's the real me, you know that.
anyway yeah, i opened up spotify and i was thinking about a certain cephalopod's playlist and it just slammed into me. i can't feel it now due to "thinking too much" but i recognize that wave when it hits.
you were staring at the screen-- through the screen, really-- and you just quietly said, "oh no," haha.
laurie i think i'm falling in love with mimic
not even "might." THAT'S what got me. like you just said it, straight-up. felt more like you than you have in months.
good. because my heart suddenly ached so much i was about to sob. it hit me completely out of nowhere and took the floor out from under me. knocked all my walls down.
geez, i know what that's like. holy swords.
yeah. you can't put up any defenses or facades against it. it hits too hard, too fast. and like it or not, you can't go back to who or where you were before. so... i have no idea what's going to happen, haha. 
but y'know, it's been like that since he showed up. and thank god for that. thank god for him, i mean it. he's been such an unpredictable and unexpected force for good in my life. who would've ever thought.
yeah, well, headspace is weird like that, kiddo. bringing light out of darkness and all that. i daresay we all get that sense of hope from you, sparkboy.
apparently. but... well, my identity is still fractured. we're learning just how split-up cores are, amongst each other. did we discuss that?
no, and we shouldn't be having a mini-xanga in the middle of a freakin' entry at 12:30 in the morning. take a note, then get moving.
good idea. thanks typist voices, i'll get jargon for you soon, love you too, have a good night

thank you you too
about that note
we have discovered, through recent internal interactions between jewel and jay, that there are several coexistent bloodlines AND synergetic cores in our system at ANY GIVEN TIME.
the jewels, the jays, the jessicas, possibly the cannons, etc. now that we're aware of it we're trying to study the phenomenon and figure out its mechanics but it's a new awareness. shockingly sensible and apparent though, once you know what you're looking at.
but this explains a lot of how we functioned over time, how they shift so easily and fluidly between each other, because they are ALL "CORES" IN DIFFERENT RESPECTS, because with how hypercompartmentalized we are, EVEN THE CORES CANNOT HOLD OVERGENERALIZED ROLES. there are different "cores" as "captains" of different life-aspects. this means we might need a better term than "core," as that's something used by the multiplicity community at large, and we like to have entirely unique jargon to our own unique experience.

is there anything else we need to type tonight?
no just health concerns. legit very very scared at how sick we've been feeling over the past week. not sure what's wrong. don't want to go to ER again, like ever, but scared of the symptoms. considering urgent care if it continues to worsen.
oh tomorrow if we don't feel super sick in church again, we are going to get new lights if possible, grab some "optional protein sources" to try at night (we think it's the eggs at night making us sick??? past three times this has happened), and finally pick up our tuxedo for choir. hopefully we can get it all done. tomorrow night is the mental health meeting with the mother which will probably be VERY exhausting, and will force us to eat late again, as we cannot eat in the car or in the same space as her or it is traumatically triggering. we must be smart about this then. so so so tired of this hyperbusy schedule for lent. someone in the back said darkly "then maybe we should go to the emergency room; at least we'd get some rest" yeah but only in theory, what if we're in the waiting room for 9 hours again? and they only give us a hall bed we can't lay down on again? "geez i'm sorry i was just saying" no i know and you're right. sad but true and thank you for speaking up. but we do need rest. don't want to land in the hospital to get it though. not like the old days.

okay gotta sleep it's almost 1am. maybe better rest will help this body too. and prayer. gotta trust God  no matter what happens. jay hold on to that hope and love!! and share it with us all!! that's your real job deep down you said so once i know. laurie says "get to work kiddo" oh pun intended his other job too!! that's all hope too. gosh it feels like we need to type about this more but not now. but "a wealth of untapped information" someone says.
OH we think sherlock and spine are still alive but names faces changed maybe. jobs too somewhat. but there IS someone in grey, maybe "sterling" name now, and lynne wants spine back so badly she's gotta come back soon just from love. jay wants her back too, her job was so important! especially with what's happening now!! so we'll see. and hoping for nathaniel too one day. once we understand green more.
OH also, jay can i say, he said yes, nobody has mentioned yet!! there IS someone green, a girl, when getting body ready for church today. forget why she appeared, no data. some sort of caring job, maybe for the body? but rainforest-green hair. surprising. have not had a green person in a long time!
and we have not mentioned "adelaide." she is the BROWN voice helping the body-cores get the body ready every morning. she has a mood like spice a little, it must be a brown thing? but her color is leaning "hard orange." light tone but warmer. see it clearly in her eyes. and she has real pigtails!! not twintails like julie. the actual braids in the back! which is really interesting. jay says we need jargon for foni like her anyway-- ones who "advise and guide" fronters in the body? something like that.
oh and lastly, we did not mention either, i don't think? our mirror voices! i'll mention them anyway. "blepofoni" jay says. first was natalie, a long time ago, before she died and the body changed too. then in upmc we had alena and jack. now we have iris and jonah! so there you go that's our blepofoni. jay says that's greek. he likes his words.

okay bye everyone!!
see you tomorrow i hope we feel better this is simeon btw i'm still allive still yellow still happy hopeful too.
okay bye gotta sleep!



oh last thing. adding this because jay said so, please write this for me.
...actually hold up. let me write this myself, if i can.
the other day, I was reviewing recent entry tags and I realized that we haven't had an entry tagged with "love" since january. yes the poems i wrote at the library are a blessed addition, but... no daily entries have fit that label. that's deeply disturbing and distressing both.
sorry i can't talk properly. too distracted by body symptoms and stress.
but. what i wanted to say is this:
for like... a week, now? i've been feeling pulled back towards chaos 0. finally. god knows it felt like my heart had been torn out. i was... gosh I don't even know if it was me. there were a few instances, and one significantly notable one at night, when i tried to kiss him and instead a SOCIAL shoved their way out in panicked, scolding shame or fear. "you shouldn't be doing or feeling that," basically. very condemning and callous. unfortunately hyperreligious, but in a hypocritical sense, because they couldn't love God either. poor girls. they're a total mess.
but... it has been hurting ever since. that memory, of that moment when i actually felt my heart light up again towards him, only to be brutishly shoved aside by some tangled-hair sister of mine scolding me harshly, shaming me. shutting me down.
little did they know, it did the opposite of stopping me. i can't forget that light, now. and i've been praying to feel it again since then.
it's been difficult. like i said, since my identity is still a fractured mess post-cnc and post-grandma (not even my timeline; SO MUCH shifted last year, no wonder we're a mess), and i don't even have a true "name" yet in the system (i'm in the jay bloodline currently BUT everyone is wondering if i'm going to hardshift into a NEW bloodline to match this new life era), i can't exactly assert myself, or anchor into a personal overlay, or even visualize myself clearly enough to be with him for long. everything is a blur and it is shattering my soul. his, too, undoubtedly.
...he spoke to me today, at some point, with that absolute ocean-deep tone i haven't heard him use in ages. completely floored me. but it was scary to find that i couldn't properly respond. i was too numb with the identity fracture and confusion. but God knows i wanted to.
God, honestly, please, fix up my heart. purify my love. help me to love him again, to truly reciprocate what he still gives to me every single night. i'm so tired of this emptiness in my chest. this isn't right. this isn't me. lord help me to know who I am, after everything that was before. that's my prayer tonight. help me find my name, and my face, and my color, as I am needed to be now, to be THE cor(e) for this Spectrum, the heart of it, whose very function is love. please. for Your sake even more than ours, help me to be light again. help me to love again.

all right, now i'm off to work. still a shambles, but hey. at least i'm aware of that fact.
simeon's right; there's always hope. and i need to hold on to that, for all of us, because it's not just for me, and neither am i.
a core exists for their system. that's what i truly yearn for. unity, community, compassion and cooperation. love.
God let me be a true part of it again, for the first time.


prismaticbleed: (held)

For lack of a better term: all these individuals were the "default fronter" in musical settings, and may have been splinter cores. Nevertheless the ties to music as a whole speak to a great significance in the System function.

(later note: yeah we started this for music but it's become SO MUCH MORE than that. still, music is an unexplored and important anchor, ESPECIALLY FOR MEMORY.)

(another note: SOME OF THESE KIDS (like jarda & jheriz) WERE OBVIOUSLY NOT CORES. THEY HAD HYPERSPECIFIC FRONTING CIRCUMSTANCES, usually tied TO their music banks. That means there WAS a Bloodline EXTANT PARALLEL TO THEM.)

(AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE: I was wondering why there seem to be frontliners that ONLY fronted for musical circumstances? Well that is ACTUALLY CORRECT. They existed as a very specific subspecie of corpufoni, MEANT to be COMPLETELY ISOLATED from ALL other bodybased activity, INCLUDING THE SOCIALS. These unique "music fronters" literally existed ONLY to listen to music. That was HOW WE SURVIVED. They existed in this bubble of wonder and untouched joy that probably kept us alive during the trauma that we were completely unable to process at the time.)

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

ARTISTS THAT NEED TO FIND THEIR ASSOCIATED CORE/PSEUDO/SOCIAL &/OR DEFINITIVE TIME PERIOD(S):
  • COUSTEAUX
  • EW&F (definitely an elementary kid, but when?)
  • The Flashbulb (iTunes era?)
  • Jukebox the Ghost (BEFORE the massacre)
  • Beirut (Last.fm era for sure)
  • Brian Setzer (high school obsession, but whom?)
  • Empire of the Sun (BEFORE SLC??)
  • Everything Everything (BEFORE Scalpel)
  • Daley (NIGHT FRONTER.)
  • Allen Stone (Flairousia summer)
  • Imogen Heap (Oneircia era)
  • Hauschka
  • Bersarin Quartett (very unique era and particular person)
  • Orson (One of the radio kids?)
  • PUNCH BROTHERS (I know it was Jay, but when?)
  • Hiatus Kaiyote



SUPER OLD "ORIGINAL KID?" MEMORIES: 1993-1995?? The absolute earliest child. The spark of every flame to come after.
"JESSILYN." The ORIGINAL given-name kiddo and honestly the ONLY person with the RIGHT to that name. I don't think we had any pseudonyms at this point because we didn't see ourself as an individual yet, and certainly not "human." We kinned dragons & unicorns & bats & pterosaurs. Our color was magenta. It was a very different time of life.
Liked Winnie the Pooh, Mighty Mouse, the Pink Panther, Babar, Dudley the Dragon, and the MAGIC KISSING DRAGONS (1994). We remember seeing those IN STORES and begging mom for them.
Very sweet kid. DREW THE "BABY EATERS" THOUGH.
We have very little first-person EXTERNAL memory of being this child. What we do remember has to do with either extreme emotions (those baby-eaters) or our IMAGINATION, notably with our "DREAM FRIENDS"-- at this point being Unisalia, My Cobra & his band, and the original JEWEL ALIENS & JEWEL DINOSAURS!!!
Her music largely comes from listening to cassette tapes in bed with grandma.
"Solid anchor in HOME, no internal self-presence yet. Her life clung hard to every warm note of safety she heard in these songs.”

  • ENGELBERT HUMPERDINCK
  • PAUL ANKA
  • ANDY WILLIAMS
  • NEIL SEDAKA
  • BARRY MANILOW
  • RITA COOLIDGE

OLDEST MEMORIES: 1996-1997? 1995-1998? Pre-social childhood.
"ARBUTUS" codename. Sense of self tied to CHILDHOOD HOME LIFE. Key "image" is the arbutus flowers in the yard when we went exploring, and the wisteria bush outside our bedroom window. Also tied to the scent of the cream-flower bedding, the old yellow rug, the ivory cushion bench we would hide stuff in, the old standup bathroom mirror, etc. ANCIENT memories.
INDOORS & NON-SOCIAL CORE!!!! Also MAGENTA CORE?
EXTREMELY CREATIVE KID, because living inside & without social contact/ close parenting, her days were saturated with MEDIA. She is NOT anchored in the home, but in that MEDIA!!
Her music still comes from listening to cassette tapes in bed with grandma, mostly. We had virtually no other non-movie exposure.
DRAGONHEART WAS 1996 AND WE REMEMBER IT!!!
She also has ties to HERCULES (toys were 1996), GUMBY (1995), PRETTY PIGGIES, CARE BEARS, STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE, FERNGULLY, WE'RE BACK, THE SECRET OF NIMH, THE LAST UNICORN, THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER, and THE LAND BEFORE TIME (ozzy and strut are an injoke TO THIS DAY).
Don't forget the oddly notable impact we also had from the Chipmunks Adventure, Pooh's Grand Adventure, the Rescuers, Tubby the Tuba, Raggedy Ann & Andy's Musical Adventure, and the Jetsons movie!
Books were ANIMORPHS (1996), WHISPER THE UNICORN, "THE DRAGONS ARE SINGING TONIGHT," and "DRAGONS AROUND THE WORLD." All hugely influential.
She ALSO had the FIRST VIDEO GAME EXPOSURE with ECCO THE DOLPHIN!!!
POKEMON DID NOT EXIST YET!!!!!
LEAGUEWORLDS WERE MY COBRA, ZIMBO THE ALIEN, THE SNEAKERS, and THE UNICORNS
  • Kid's movie soundtracks

SCHOOL MEMORIES BEGIN: 1998-2000?
"WISTERIA". COLOR SHIFTED FROM PINK TO PURPLE. This kid has LIFE in her!
She shares house-environment feelings with Arbutus, BUT THIS KID ALSO HAS SOCIAL MEMORY. Arbie did NOT.
Pokemon hit at last, and schoolmates start to bring their music in.
LOTS OF BOOKS AND TELEVISION, from the school library and mom, respectively.
This was BEFORE video games became a solid part of our life!!! So there was NO STABLE "FOUNDATION" TO BLOOM FROM at this point, BUT we could feel it when Pokemon started arriving on classmate's lunchables boxes, haha.
Her sense of self was SHIFTING & FRAGMENTED and we saw only glimpses of it in her creative writing.
THIS WAS THE FURBY KID (CHRISTMAS 1998)!!!
SHE ALSO LOVED TAMAGOTCHI ANGELS (1998), DIGIMON (JAN 1998), BEANIE BABIES (BATTY WAS 1997, STINGER WAS 1998), MLP G2 (1998), ASTEROIDS PS1 (1998; arguably our FIRST GAMES), A BUG'S LIFE (1998), and STAR TREK VOYAGER (8472 into 1998).
SHE ALSO HAD A "POCKET PIKACHU" (1999) AND TOOK IT EVERYWHERE.
Also Jason & the Argonauts?? I think this was when mom started to show us more "adult" movies.
BOOKS were mainly ANIMORPHS, Goosebumps, but also THE PRINCE OF WHALES!!!!
  • 101 STRINGS???
  • Lying on mom's bed and listening to "Instrumental Gold" on loop with the bros
  • Some stuff from mom & dad: the Beatles, Kenny Loggins, Jeff Beck, Bruce Mitchell, etc.
  • Bruce Mitchell

THE VERY FIRST JEWEL LIGHTRAYE: 2000-2002?
WE FINALLY GAIN A DISTINCT & TRUE SENSE OF SELF and she's a RED CORE.
Moralimon is our LIFE at this point.
MARCH 2000 WE MET CELEBI!!!!
JULY 2000 WAS THE POKEMON 2000 MOVIE. This was referenced in the POKEWORLD-WAR JOURNALS.
OCTOBER 15TH 2000 WAS POKEMON SILVER. We bought it ASAP after the release.
APRIL 2001 WAS THE THIRD MOVIE. WE REMEMBER SEEING IT!!!! That is UNHEARD OF!!!
THIS WAS ALSO WHEN WE GOT KLONOA and that CHANGED OUR ENTIRE LIFE
Other games: RIPTO'S RAGE was HUGE (2000), also Rayman? (1999), Buzz Lightyear (2000), and the racing games we would just go wild with haha. We'd customize cars for Moralimon and then purposely drive backwards on the track SOLELY to smash into other cars in the most dramatic way possible.
BIONICLE WAS 2001!!!! That was an ABSOLUTELY MONUMENTAL INFLUENCE TOO.
So were our books-- this era included A WIND IN THE DOOR, YOUNG WIZARDS, THE SEVENTH TOWER, DELTORA QUEST, and BALINOR!!
WALKMAN DAYS!! ALSO the days of the MIXTAPES!!!
SHE WORE THE POCKET PIKACHU 2 (2001) EVERYWHERE. That was attached to our belt, nonstop, for YEARS. She adored it.
THIS WAS THE TIME PERIOD OF THE WS MUSIC CAMP, aka our HUGE CRUSH ON HOLLI, and the FIRST TIME WE SANG. We were hooked for life, on both choir and cute chicks, haha.
ALSO, REMEMBER, STARTING AUGUST 2001 WAS POKEMON CRYSTAL AND WE HAVE CARDIOPHAGY MEMORIES TIED TO THAT. This Jewel was the REAL DEAL, ALL THE WAY THROUGH.
Lastly, the most important distinction to remember with this kid? SHE WAS NOT A TEENAGER, and she was NOT INTERACTIVE ONLINE!!!! SHE SPENT ALL HER TIME TYPING FOR THE LEAGUE.
Jewel was an absolute creative force; her imagination was unstoppable.
  • The key to remembering her tunes: JEWEL MONSTERS. Probably lots of mom-given stuff.
  • BASIA & GLORIA were BOTH Moralimon "karaoke" songbanks.
  • Windham Hill samplers
  • Yanni
  • GEORGE WINSTON
  • WINDHAM HILL
  • "PREMIERE" piano album
  • ELO???? Remember it was first the OST for SYNDOULOID!!!!! Try to feel out those memories for a timestamp!

arguably "CRYSTAL"??? the first SOCIAL SPLINTER of a Jewel??? 2001-2002??
Although existing at the same time as Jewel, JEWEL WAS INTERNALLY BASED. She existed vividly, but ONLY IN LEAGUE CONTEXTS!!! On the outside, SOMEONE ELSE WAS FRONTING WITH FAMILY & SCHOOL. We're thinking THIS is that kid.
Her music is therefore influenced by WHAT MOM PLAYED WHEN DRIVING. I think the key distinction would be that THESE songs WERE LARGELY NOT TIED TO THE LEAGUE (they didn't often match the vibe)-- and we ONLY HEARD THEM WHILE IN A CAR.
She is also POWERFULLY TIED TO THAT MUSIC CAMP as a result of the drives up & back.
  • BASIA, notably "The Sweetest Illusion," during that awful porch summer with mom cleaning
  • Grand Funk Railroad
  • Eagles
  • Boston
  • Oliver
  • k d lang??

THE "RUBY" JEWEL: 2002-2003?
Her time period is SUPER INTERESTING.
On one hand, SHE was the kid who FIRST got the crushes on RYOU & MARIK, in which her vibe feels VERY similar to the original Jewel-- it was LEAGUE-BASED. She began to write CROSSOVER COMICS/FICS in which she was hailing FROM THE DREAM WORLD, AS A WORLDJUMPER. She was not yet "LINKED" to anyone yet; she was only just unspooling the thread!!!
Her personal journal (the "daffodil" one) became MANIC in tone in 2004, BUT IMMEDIATELY PRIOR IN 2003, it was MARKEDLY sweeter and more sentimental, and it is ALSO where she drew herself sitting under that tree WITH RIO, with her Klonoa hair BUT in her "NEW OUTFIT". Even then we remember feeling a personality-anchor change inside. Her personality was SPLITTING and it was VERY OBVIOUS.
SHE WAS A TEEN AND IDENTIFIED AS SUCH. THE ORIGINAL JEWEL DID/DOES NOT!!!
SHE ALSO STOPPED TYPING for the most part, as her ENTIRE FUNCTION QUICKLY SHIFTED FROM THE LEAGUE TO HEARTSPACE!!!!!
WAS SHE THE ONE WHO STARTED THE "~thoughts~" FILE??? (HAD TO BE-- it was PKMN/LEAGUE aesthetics, and the first entry in there she IDENTIFIES AS CELEBI. GO CHECK DATES)
As for notable dates:
Yugioh began airing 2002, with Battle City beginning in NOVEMBER 2002. That was when we got into it; the previous Jewel AVOIDED IT out of "rivalry"; it was either YGO or PKMN and she chose the latter. (This is ALSO why we NEVER had a Digimon-core; our "exclusive loyalty" mindset prevented that)
Pokemon Ruby was also released in MARCH 2003. That was HER ANCHOR GAME. She also "had a crush on Blaziken" which is notable.
SHE WAS NOT INTO SONIC YET. SHE WAS STILL 100% POKEMON.
OH YEAH BUT SHE PLAYED STARCRAFT. That affected the League more than anything at first.
APRIL 27TH 2003 WAS THE CHER FAREWELL TOUR!!!
WE HAD A PURPLE BOOMBOX and a PORTABLE CD PLAYER as well as our trusty Walkman.
This kid BEGAN TO GO THROUGH MOM'S CD COLLECTION, which exposed us to SO MUCH NEW STUFF.
A HUGE DISTINCTION: THIS KID DIDN'T HAVE ACCESS TO INTERNET MUSIC YET!!!!!
HOWEVER WE WERE ONLINE NOW. She also started our NEOPETS ACCOUNT!
Don't forget, she was ALSO MORALIMON FOCUSED-- but THIS was when PART TWELVE HAPPENED, which shifted EVERYTHING in a much more emotionally raw direction. Also VEZ.
ALSO THIS WAS THE FIRST CORE TO OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGE BEING MULTIPLE!!! This was because HEARTSPACE OPENED UP and she began to exist as a person IN FIRST PERSON, instead of third!!!
LASTLY, remember how I mentioned Starcraft? THIS IS ALSO WHEN WE MET WALDORF!!!
  • Pokemon OSTs
  • CHER obviously
  • ENRIQUE IGLESIAS (2002)
  • LA BOUCHE???? I think that was HER, because SHE was the FIRST "radio kid" technically, but ALL HER TUNES WERE MORALIMON ASSIGNED. Not so for the later kids; that switched to HEARTSPACE!!!

CELEBI, NOT CELEBREON, WAS OUR POKE2/MEWACHU PRESENCE ONLINE.
Her vibe was tied to JEWEL, NOT HOSEKI.
2001-2002, arguably?
NO ONE HOLDS HER MEMORIES. Even when we visit her old websites, WE HAVE NO FIRST-PERSON RECALL. Her vibe is TOTALLY DIFFERENT than anyone else's. Literally NO ONE HOLDS THOSE MEMORIES BUT HER. They are shockingly hyper-exclusive.
WE WERE FULLY AWARE SHE WAS "SOMEONE ELSE" IN OUR HEAD. We clearly remember CHANNELING writing "from her perspective" and being disconcerted as to "why it didn't sound/feel like us." SWITCHINESS BRO. But yeah this was 2002.
Remember she was LEAGUE-ANCHORED and LIVED IN THE MORALIMON WORLD.
  • I THINK SHE WAS THE ONE OBSESSED WITH "CELTIC" STUFF??? (Bruce Mitchell)

The FIRST Jewel-splinter took over as the "main" Social, and that was CELEBREON!!!
HER time period was 2004.
Remember we were ACTIVELY IDENTIFYING AS NONHUMAN DURING THIS TIME-- when we tried to draw ourself AS "JEWEL," IT DIDN'T PING. (Remember the "Christmas outfit" existential crash!) WHICH IS BIZARRE BUT HUGELY IMPORTANT TO REMEMBER.
She feels UNIQUELY SEPARATE from ALL the "Jewel" splinters!!!!
Her memories begin in LATE SEVENTH GRADE and STOP IN EIGHTH GRADE!!!!
ALSO. Remember this was when we wrote PaRS for school, and we were a self-insert... AS CELEBREON.
  • CHER. For some reason SHE feels tied to that era even moreso than Ruby.


THE "SPINNINGCANNON" BLOODLINE IS BORN: 2004
TECHNICALLY A TEMPORARY BLOODLINE NAME "SHIFT" TO "HOSEKI"???

(THERE ARE DISTINCTIONS HERE THAT NEED TO BE CLARIFIED. THERE WERE SEVERAL INDIVIDUALS HERE-- THE "JEWEL" BASE, THE HOSEKI SHIFT, AND BLACKBERRY)

HOSEKI = “2004? The end of the GBA era, as we moved into the internet era. The first SHIFT in the Jewel bloodline.”

BLACKBERRY = “2004! Our first fully online Core, after Hoseki laid the foundation. But this kid was FULL TIME ANIME.”
SHE WAS “MEW BLACKBERRY.” I THINK this is also the “Jewel” that drew herself with Genesis in the old diary?? She looked TOTALLY DIFFERENT from anyone before.
Also, WAS "BLACKBERRY" OUR "FLCL" KID???
They were NOTABLY out around CHRISTMAS, listening to the OSTS, which were released in LATE 2004, and we remember someone buying it NEW at FYE. So this was LATE 2004- LATE 2005, and this is a VERY DISTINCT VIBE. 
WE KNEW GENESIS in that vague memory when we were blasting "Penalty Life" while putting up the Christmas tree with grandma!


JEWEL-SPCN = “2004. Chaos 0 and J-Rock. Our heart was waking up.”


OUR FIRST FULLY "ONLINE" CORE. ALSO OUR FIRST "VIDEO GAME" CORE!!!
LOTS OF ANIME EXPOSURE. "Sailor X," "Mew Blackberry," etc.
Her main distinction is that she was SELF-ANCHORED. ALL of her true associations were LINKS. If she got into a fandom, she LITERALLY "GOT INTO" IT!!!
Starting to branch out into "non-family" music, thanks to the internet AND now having BOTH permission to be more "free" in public AND an earned "allowance" to buy stuff at Waldenbooks & FYE (instead of Pokemon cards, which the previous Jewel spent her music cash on).
HUGE shift in personality; with high school on the horizon, and queer feelings under the rug, this kid was a quick but notable "break" from the "Ruby" Jewel, shifting hard focus from the LEAGUE to FANDOMS.
Remember her Freewebs site; she was SHEER HYPER MANIA... BUT WITH MANIA COMES RAGE.
SHE WAS OUR FIRST EVER "CORE" TO HAVE A DARK SIDE.
This was also the SONIC CHAT era, which says a LOT about her state of mind.
MEDIA: FFI, SONIC BATTLE, BIONICLE MASK OF LIGHT, STARCRAFT BROOD WAR, DOKAPON, SONIC ADVANCE 3!!! She also got Pokemon Emerald but DIDN'T LIKE IT. She also CLEARLY "REMEMBERS" NOT FEELING LIKE THE SAME "JEWEL" FROM RUBY. She even named her team differently, which was MONUMENTAL.
MANGA & ANIME: SAILOR MOON, FLCL, CHRONO CRUSADE, TOKYO MEW MEW, DI GI CHARAT, X/1999, GUNDAM SEED, DRAGONBALL Z. Just learning what anime was and we LOVED IT.
THIS WAS THE SONIC INVERSION YEAR, when it became a legit World of its own.
This was ALSO the "CHIBIKERRIGAN" YEAR.
IT'S ALSO THE LOTR & POTC YEAR, and those four latter fandoms were ALL BONDING WITH VIRAL.
Something else that's key: I THINK SHE FIRST WORE THE "CATHEDRAL BURST" GLITTER SHIRTS??? and stuff from "FANG" and "SELF ESTEEM." Absolute glittery Y2K fashion, with dragon belts and anime hair and spandex jeans with oversized sneakers.  it was awesome.
HOWEVER. SHE WAS NOT "IN LOVE"... AT FIRST. You remember the written chats with AMG; even then, SHE WAS TOO MANIC, even DELUSIONAL, and almost VIOLENT at times. 
We really didn't "fall in love" deep until we started work, and our entire System's fronting mechanism had to change, making a VERY HEAVY BREAK between "socials" and "dreamers," as it were. But that comes later!
This kid was too wild. She was obsessed with Skitty, Deoxys, and Jirachi. She liked Marik because HE was wild, too. She WANTED TO BE HARUKO HARUHARA.
HOWEVER don't forget that this kid was ALSO CLOSET QUEER. She was getting feelings for girls A LOT now, and deep down she DIDN'T FEEL LIKE ONE-- hence that "magazine epiphany" that rocked her world and PROBABLY BROKE HER FUNCTION CLEAN TO PIECES.
Honestly there was a LOT GOING ON PERSONALITY-WISE during this time. We KNEW there were "other people" in our head, INCLUDING CELEBI, JULIE, WALDORF, "MY THREE," AND ARGUABLY LAURIE. And we EXPLICITLY WROTE IN A JOURNAL THAT (EFFECTIVELY) "JEWEL IS THE REAL ME, BUT I'M NOT ME ON THE OUTSIDE." We remember struggling to try to explain to people why we "didn't act like ourself," and how existentially terrifying that was, to not be able to control who we were in public. We HATED the dissonance. But we KNEW there were splits. 
As a result THIS time period is going to be the HARDEST to pinpoint musically, but once we do, that is going to shed a LOT of light on things. Expect much typing.
  • SPINNINGCANNON (the one who wrote music and drew on Bitmap? she WAS MANIC at first): Freewebs & Geocities BGMs. Chrono Trigger, Studio Ghibli, Sailor Moon... stuff we heard playing on other people's websites. Golden memories, honestly. It was like a whole world in there.
  • SEAL, BUT ENTIRELY BY ACCIDENT. I wonder if that even stuck with us yet?
  • THE KILLERS???? Remember that was a MORALIMON ALBUM! but it also HELD OUR "DARKER" EDGE, something VERY NEW AND IMPORTANT.
  • FLCL OST and "the pillows" in general. Our "J-Rock" intro phase was CRUCIAL. It marked the BIG SHIFT in our Jewel-core's heart as a result of FALLING IN LOVE WITH CHAOS 0. Remember those were HIS ALBUMS.
  • L'ARC~EN~CIEL. This was Chaos's flagship album, and a milestone in our life.
  • T.M.Revolution, which was HOSEKI'S vibe!! She loved everything Gundam; remember Sazabi & Bakunetsumaru???
  • Basia's "Time and Tide" album because QUEER FEELINGS AHOY
  • QUEEN, due to realizing that ONE SONG was in Japanese. I clearly remember this was during the "DEOKISHISU" era (2004 movie), and also Gollum-coughing constantly. That was the MOST MANIC WE'VE EVER BEEN.
  • TODD RUNDGREN???? When exactly did he become central to our musicsphere? Remember Dad HID the albums "until we were older" but we snuck "Second Wind" off the top shelf one day and were IMMEDIATELY FLOORED. We looped it for MONTHS.
REMEMBER--- THE "SPINNINGCANNON" NAME ARGUABLY BECAME A BLOODLINE OF ITS OWN ONCE WE BECAME MORE SOCIALLY ACTIVE ONLINE, ESPECIALLY ON DEVIANTART!!!!! HER ULTIMATE PERSONALITY WAS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE MANIC HOSEKI ROOTS!!!

THE FIRST SPINNINGCANNON WAS THE KID WHO WAS ALWAYS ON NOTEWORTHY COMPOSER??? I assume so because THAT'S HOW SHE SIGNED EACH TRACK. She wrote some darn good stuff too!
She LIVED ON THE COMPUTER and THAT is her key distinction from Hoseki. Spinny spent ALL her time looking and creating, personally and quietly. Hoseki spent her time TALKING AND HEARTSPACING.
BY THE WAY... WE STILL HAVE THE WINDOWS 98 IN OUR CLOSET... WITH ALL HER FILES. GET A FREAKIN' KEYBOARD & SCREEN AND LET'S BOOT THAT BABY UP


"spinningcannon" time period but OFFLINE??? 2003-2004.
Codename "JIRAI" because remember she SHIFTED FROM CELEBI/CELEBREON TO JIRACHI!!!!
Non-manic, quiet, secretive, sweet, candid, EMOTIONAL.
“Quiet mornings, quiet feelings. Our last "legendary girl", who fizzled out when high school hit hard. Introspective, sweet, candid, naive, mysterious, loving.”
NOT SOCIAL!!!! THEREFORE CAPABLE OF LOVE!!!!
DON'T EVER FORGET SKITTYGIRL, her very existence speaks VOLUMES as to the state of our innerself beneath the social mess. Hoseki DIDN'T DEAL WITH HER; that was all UNDER THE RADAR.
I THINK she was ALSO THE ONE WHO WROTE ALL THAT LOVE POETRY ON THE OLD COMPUTER???? She would listen to instrumental "new age"/piano music (mom's stuff) WHILE writing it, and I remember she saved it to that FLOPPY DISC WITH CELEBREON DRAWN ON IT. We were in elementary school still because it was lost on Ms. R's computer!!!
  • KEANE???? That would mean SHE WAS OUR FIRST REAL SINGER???
  • ENYA!!!
  • MORE YANNI
  • WINDHAM HILL??? Again, from mom.
  • PAUL SCHWARTZ?

An UNEXPECTED person that we can ONLY place from album release dates-- someone from 2004-2005 with CAR MEMORIES who is TANGIBLY SHIFTING TO THE HIGH SCHOOL TIMELINE, BUT who is tied more to FAMILY??
Very unusual. Feel out their memories; they are NOTABLY unique.
Codename "JOBI" for obvious reasons-- also because they STILL had powerful ties to CELEBI.
  • U2
  • BON JOVI


++++++ELEMENTARY ENDS +++ HIGH SCHOOL STARTS+++++++


RADIO KID: 2004-2005?
"JHERIZ" codename.
WUSR Scranton fan.Oh my gosh that channel was a GOLDMINE.
She was SO UNIQUE. She was the FIRST kid to start DANCING, and to HAVE FUN when listening to music. We owe a lot to her, as a legit healthy Social frontrunner.
“Laughing, dancing, singing, feeling bright and happy and alive."
  • The Aquabats
  • Super Furry Animals
  • "I CAN'T GET BEHIND THAT" and "show respect to Michael Jackson..."
  • VHS OR BETA!!!
  • SMASH MOUTH?
  • IMA ROBOT?? Or were they starting to bleed into darker folks?
  • TITO NIEVES! Remember we were low-key obsessed with Spanish music around this time!!

RADIO KID #2 2004-2005?
"JARDA" codename.
WUSR Scranton fan as well, but TOTALLY DIFFERENT MOOD. You can FEEL the switches BETWEEN these twins; they do NOT hold the same brainspace!!
This kid was KEY to our maturation internally; she was NOT A SOCIAL and she held some CANNON VIBES-- darker stuff that we were only now learning how to admit.
"Anthems and honesty. Learning how to speak truth in music. Driven, emotive, and anchored within-- a first step towards maturity.”
  • HARD-FI
  • THE KILLERS
  • HOT HOT HEAT
  • ROONEY
  • THE HOOSIERS?
  • IMA ROBOT?

THE "NIGHTMAREN" KID (2004-2005)
Codename "JESTER," because they were using "psychomaren97" as a username at first.
THIS IS WHOEVER MET GENESIS in 2005.
They were OBSESSED WITH NiGHTS INTO DREAMS & WTAHM / iMAGNiREALM, AND took MASSIVE PERSONALITY CUES from PARALOOP.NET!!!
They were INSANELY PROLIFIC and VERY active on deviantART BUT REMEMBER IT WAS ALL NiGHTS-BASED!!! That was their ANCHOR.
  • The NiGHTS OST, OBVIOUSLY
  • THE KLONOA OST. Although we had long loved the game, we didn't get our hands on the soundtrack until now. I remember we would listen to it on the bus, on Miriel, WITH GENESIS.
  • TRiPPY's music.
  • PHANTOM OF THE FREAKIN' OPERA. That was THE soundtrack to our NiGHTS spinoff for YEARS.
  • ARGUABLY the KLONOA OST???? Remember we got a HUGE resurgence of love for the game AS ITS OWN THING, and became LEGIT OBSESSED WITH LORE


THE REAL "SPINNINGCANNON" (2005)
The username gained its OWN SOLID IDENTITY at this time.
TRIGUN, GENERAL GRIEVOUS, BARRY THE CHOPPER, AND ZATCH BELL.
  • The Trigun OST, OBVIOUSLY
  • SONIC ADVANCE OST???

THE BASILICA BUS KID!!!!! (2005?)
"JACILI" codename. KEYPOINT.
I mention them particularly because they hold the ONLY SOLID MEMORIES we have for ALL OF HIGH SCHOOL.
If we could ever find their old burned CDs, we'd be set for life, haha.
  • Supertramp
  • Chicago
  • America?
  • ZATCH BELL "character songs"??

"ROADTRIP MELANCHOLY" KID: 2006-2007
"JEANOVE" codename.
Long drives in the backseat, thunderstorms, feeling lost and unwanted.
"Long bitter car trips. Feeling estranged from reality. Melancholia. Detachment from family begins as it falls apart outside."
ALSO would shadow at work??? Any time we felt existentially hollow, she would show up.
NOTABLE "HOPEFUL EDGE" to this kid. They're not depressive-doomed; they're aching bitter. This was a very rough time of our life.
SHE WAS THE ONE OBSESSED WITH "1984" and "CATCH-22"!!!!
  • Keane "THE IRON SEA"
  • The Doves "SOME CITIES"
  • Aqualung
  • Coldplay? Only secondhand; we never owned the albums.
  • SAM'S TOWN
  • The Eels

"WORK & VACATION" KID: 2006-2007??
"JEVY" codename.
The "social flipcrash" to our feeling utterly gutted.
Transformers Cybertron, Davy Jones, Metroid, Niagara Falls, FMA, VIRTUAL ON. "Social mania" soaked into main. Very specific vibe, TIED TO FANDOMS.WAS THIS THE KID WHO STARTED RUNNING ALL THE TIME???
WAS THIS ALSO THE "KAIJU BIG BATTEL" KID?????
  • ELO, notably "Secret Messages"
  • STEELY DAN

"LIMEWIRE" KID. 2007.
Codename "JELIM." May or may not be her own person; she was NOT A SOCIAL though and LIVED INDOORS.
Giving her a very particular spot for now because we discovered some very particular stuff via the interwebs and most of it DOESN'T MATCH ANYONE ELSE.
"We discovered the internet was FULL OF MUSIC! This kid is anchored INDOORS, with almost no social exposure.”
  • The Prodigy
  • The Doves
  • Frou Frou
  • AMR DIAB!!! GOD BLESS THIS KID SHE GOT US HOOKED ON SOUTH ASIAN TUNES

LONG-HAIR "ANIMA/GAIA": 2007?
"AENIMA" codename.
"The inexplicably green girl with her eyes full of stars and her heart made of glass."
HUGE SHIFT in personality here, almost a FUGUE. Memories surrounding her are VIRTUALLY NONEXISTENT.
VERY particular mood. SCHOOL/ONLINE ONLY; she was NOT around the family???
Probably the MOST FEMALE "CORE" WE EVER HAD. And she actually resonated GREEN????
SHE WAS ALSO TECHNICALLY A MUTINEER; possibly the first one. REMEMBER SHE TRIED TO BOTH DENY AND "SEPARATE FROM THE SYSTEM", TO THE POINT OF LITERALLY MURDERING NATALIE AND LYNNE.
  • Q-Lok's music
  • THE EELS? I know Jheriz discovered them, but Aenima really stuck to that one song.
  • One Year Yesterday??? We're trying to figure out where the heck they fit b/c there's like no memory attached to them; this MIGHT BE WHY. We're missing so much data from this time period, tragically.
  • On that note, was SHE the one who listened to the Piano Tribute Players???

"WORK CRISIS" KID (2007)
"LUPINNE" codename.
Close to Cannon, but panicked. Less dark, more fear. VERY specific vibe, and clear, because existential terror makes the memory kick in!
DISTURBING undertone to everything. "Liminal" feeling to life.
"The first steps into the break. Harbinger of the Cannon era. Edges of psychosis beginning to show. Detaching from reality bit by bit."
  • Boy Kill Boy
  • The Drowners
  • Minus the Bear
  • LCD Soundsystem??

"ANOMALY" ERA: 2008.
"JANO" codename.
Cannon bloodline roots. DARK. Remember the bus ride to MOMA. High school ending, and we wanted to burn it all down and start over.
"Edges starting to show. Bus trips to NYC. Losing ties to the past. Slow burning anger we didn't understand.”
JTHM, INVADER ZIM, EVANGELION???
I THINK THIS IS WHEN THE SYSTEM WOKE UP FOR GOOD. WE HAD THE XANGA AT THIS TIME.

  • Incubus
  • Billy Talent
  • Muse
  • Alien Ant Farm

"JX7." 2008.
VERY STRANGE sudden shift. Semi-fugue??? ONLINE ONLY. Also GREEN!!
Obsessed with Pokemon.
  • JAPANESE POKEMON ANIME + MOVIE OSTS


The "SYSTEM HEART" that SOMEHOW STILL EXISTED beneath all this. (2005-2008? In FRAGMENTS)
This person ONLY EXISTED IN PRIVATE, NONSOCIAL SETTINGS, but they were the TRUE HEART OF US. They "evolved" from whoever was with Genesis, as we got older and life got darker.
  • JARVIS COCKER!!!!
  • JOHN RUTTER!!! (Gloria: Vivace e Ritmico)


++++++HIGH SCHOOL ENDS +++ COLLEGE STARTS++++++


Another "work driver" kid, but the FIRST one with a "MARYWOOD" vibe. 2008.
"JEMU" codename.
Constant anxious burn beneath choking sadness. Feeling utterly displaced. Clinging to music, which was now becoming a real lifeline for us. Discovered iTunes.
"Existential split after college started. Long drives to work. Despair always lurking. No rage, no mania, only a wrenching sense of loss.”
  • Sondre Lerche
  • People in Planes?
  • Rooney (second album)?
  • VHS or Beta (second album)
  • KILLERS DAY & AGE???

CANNON ERA: 2008-2009.
"Everything changed with her. Muted rage, muffled mania, mourning in blood. Gym rat, trauma truant, truth spitter. Fire in her very veins.”
NOT at night???
She had a WEIRD start.
WAS SHE THE ONE TIED TO WATCHMEN????
  • MIDICRONICA, on loop at the gym while she burned off the rage
  • "Burn It All Down" was her ANTHEM.
  • Cubbiebear??? We were listening to that in 2012 though!! Was she still around or did SOMEONE ELSE pick it up???
  •  

GLISSANDO ERA: 2008-2009.
Late nights on Apollo, blue city backgrounds, Jena's eyes, Dori's words. NIGHT ONLY.
"Rainy eyes, starry nights. Basically lived at our Macbook at 3am at the bar table.”
  • The Books
  • haruka nakamura? or was that someone else?
  • Coldplay
  • MAX RICHTER!!! We remember when "24 Postcards In Full Color" was RELEASED
  • BENJAMIN BUTTON OST
  • RAZ OHARA
  • ERIC WHITACRE!!!

SPINZOR ERA: 2009-2010?
The OCT kid.
TOTAL MOODSHIFT. There had to have been a trigger somewhere.
LOTS of disco for Hosea, and ELO for Bluesky of course. ALSO SHRIKE & "SLIGHTLY MAGIC"
  • Kool and the Gang
  • ELO (revisit)
  • "freeplaymusic" tracks
  • David Bowie???
  • GUNS & ROSES??

"SPINNIX" codename. Spinzor "splinter" that ONLY has driving memories-- TO university, IN THE DAYTIME.
LIQUID FUNK!!
  • Commix
  • London Elektricity
  • Nu:Tone

"SPINNOX" codename. NIGHT VERSION of Spinnix. VERY DIFFERENT PEOPLE.
Again, they ONLY have memories of driving home at night.
  • Fat Jon
  •  nujabes?

"SPIKEL" codename. THE EXERCISER. This is a new, unique akoufoni class because starting with Cannon's bloodline, we now spent SO much time working out that we needed people to MANAGE that.
Notably this person IS NOT a "spin" but a "CANNON" in terms of how they feel?? Maybe even a TRANSITIONAL again, POST-MU.
  • DANNY BYRD


THE REALLY FREAKIN UNHINGED CANNON "SPLINTER" (2008??)
Codename "JUGULAR."
INKYLINKYBOOO, ZOOPHOBIA, "I FEEL SICK"
Literally the UNHEALTHIEST and MOST HELLTORMENTED CORE we EVER HAD.
We were brutally self-abusing, we were addicted to torture porn and gore shocksites, etc. and the HACKS WOULD NOT STOP.
God alone got us through this time of our life, I swear. We should have died. Yet here we are now.
  • ANGELSPIT

THE KID WHO WAS SENT TO THE PSYCH WARD????
They would have been LATE 2010 to EARLY 2011 and I KNOW for a fact they were into the v0lt@ge! Leagueworld, AND PROG ROCK!!!!
However their memories are TOTALLY FRACTURED due to traumatic circumstances. Nevertheless their heart WAS MALE ALREADY.
All we know for sure is that they were NOT CANNON!!!
  • IT BITES

(WHEN DID WE FIRST START LISTENING TO TURKISH POP REGULARLY?? "İşaret" came out in 2009!!)


++++++BLOODLINE SHIFTS!!!+++++++


"JAYCE" ERA

"JAYCE" was the VERY FIRST. IMMEDIATELY pre-SLC???~2009?
BROWN CORE. That is INSANELY UNUSUAL and shows HEAVY INSTABILITY. What was BIZARRE though is that PINSTRIPE WAS WHITE. There was an INTERNAL SPLIT.
This is when we were temporarily living with dad, either in his old apartment, or way up on Mile Hill.
VERY FRACTURED TIME PERIOD MENTALLY, for what it's worth.
"The first solid core shift to MALE. Moving out of childhood home, shuffled between addresses, feeling just as lost inside, yet never giving up. Unmoored yet still following the stars.”
  • RAZIA'S SHADOW!!!
  • Modest Mouse
  • Ben Folds Five
  • Joe Satriani

"WILLOW" codename was a "splinter" of Jayce perhaps?? SOFT; his vibe was VERY CLOSE TO GLISSANDO, except he ONLY would be out at DAWN???
“Very unique guy. Sincere, hopeful, quiet, but never afraid. Early foggy mornings, always with the hope of moving on, moving out, moving forwards. A nascent living hope of something better, just beyond the trees.”
  • NOMAK
  • NUJABES
  • UYAMA HIROTO
  • TSUTCHIE


"INFLUTUSA" ERA. 2011?
WHITE MALE CORE. Arguably fragmented as hell.
ONLY listened to glitch/drone music.
"The glitch boy. Dissociation, derealization, depersonalization. No room, no safe space, no future, no past. Living in hallways on borrowed time. Losing self in broken notes. Brain like static.”
  • Nikakoi/ erast
  • the dirty spoons


EARLY 2011 SNAPSHOT FROM LAST.FM=
AS TALL AS LIONS, RIFLE RECOIL, JANELLE MONAE, TORO Y MOI. 75% of that is PURE JAY & CHAOS MUSIC. That is PROFOUNDLY IMPORTANT.
(feb 13 2011 has= doves, doobie brothers, ALL the classics: frost, todd rundgren, rifle recoil, dirty spoons, as tall as lions, billy talent, midicronica, max richter, it bites )



MALE "JEWEL" = THE REAL ONE.
WHITE Core, the FIRST TRUE ONE.
HAD to be around 2010 because HE WAS TIED TO NIER!!
Semifused with CANNON at the beginning; maybe even Deon??? I can feel some red in here.
But the HEART of him was WHITE entire.
(THIS WAS TECHNICALLY NOT "JAY IRIDOS"-- THAT HARD BLOODLINE SHIFT CAME LATER!!)
  • FROST*!!!!!!
  • THE NIER GESTALT OST
  • FFXIII???
  • AS TALL AS LIONS?
  • RIFLE RECOIL?

 
"DEON?" 2012.
SALT LAKE CITY. Homestuck-era kid. RED.
HE WAS A SHOCKING DIFFERENCE and I think he only existed TO SURVIVE SLC & PRESERVE THE JAYS.
"Red boy. SLC time. Very lost, very confused, but still a brash and brazen flame. Strange time period.”
  • serph
  • Chad Valley
  • CLIMBING WALLS, ANNA SUN, COLD DUST GIRL

"LYTRAILE" codename.
"The kid who was always working out and got us into KREVA!"
This was a DISTINCT era post-SLC, in a sort of "shift period" between the original Jayces and the new Jays?? ODDLY AND INTERESTINGLY their music taste is a sort of "positive flip" to CANNON'S, as they were both transitional eras.
  • KREVA
  • Kalassy Nikoff
  • Super Junior

"CUPID." 2013 or so?
VERY different, unusual vibes. Hard to put into words but they are unmistakable.
  • BATHS

"JAY IRIDOS." ~2013-2015, maybe? POST-SLC.
LEGIT GOOD KID. Sandman boy. One of our best Cores ever at heart.
FIRST SOLID WHITE MALE CORE. "The man with a heart like a rainbow.”
He had a lot of "signature songs" moreso than artists in general?
  • ALSO FROST*???
  • MESITA? He bought the signed album!!


BTW LATE 2013 WAS BEAUTIFUL. That was arguably the BEST Christmas of our LIFE and it has its OWN PLAYLIST for that reason (with everything we could find; most of that era was Soundcloud tracks by very obscure folks)
BUT AFTER THE MASSACRE HAPPENED everything started gradually sliding into hell, tragically. ALSO according to the Archives, Lent messed us up BADLY.
May 6th 2014 on LAST.FM records is shockingly beautiful though?? Lots of 2013 classics. We were probably trying to hold on to that around the body's birthday time. Still, FEEL OUT THESE MEMORIES and find out WHO holds them around the shift time.
A rule of thumb: ALL "INFI VIBE" SONGS BELONG TO JAY, OBVIOUSLY.


MID-2014 snapshot from LAST.FM=
HAYWYRE, SYLVAN, SON LUX, ANTONY & THE JOHNSONS, FORSS, M+A, SOHN, JAMES BLAKE
Also general vibe of KEITH KENNIFF, RYAN TEAGUE, SQUARE PEG ROUND HOLE, DAVID TORN, DUSTIN O'HALLORAN



WHOEVER WAS OUT IN THE "HELL SUMMER" (2015). IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE JAY.
THERE'S LAST.FM ARCHIVE INFO FOR THIS
  • Cherry Ghost
  • AQUILO?
  • ALLEN STONE? Dude that was THIS TIME PERIOD???
  • The Electric Soft Parade?
  • Rhian Sheehan? Dorian Concept? Jack Garratt? JENSEN SPORTAG?
  • NOTABLY THIS WAS WHEN WE DISCOVERED PUNCH BROTHERS


UPMC ERA "ISCAH". 2017.
Placeholder as she has to be her own thing because she existed DURING A LOCKOUT ERA.
"Inpatient girl. Exists ONLY in hospital settings."
  • Hospital tunes, really


CHARLOTTE = "LOTUS"??? 2017-2018.
"The boy with the eaten heart.”
We're actually not sure HOW MANY PEOPLE existed during this time as pseudocores alongside Lotus; we listened to a TON of music but IT ALL HAS DIFFERENT ANCHORS, which is DEEPLY DISCONCERTING.
We might have to categorize them based on "mindset" at first, because it's a hyperfragmented disaster.
The overall mood/mindset though is DISTURBING. To this day, we cannot listen to ANY of this music without immediate REELING FLASHBACKS &/OR DEATHDREAD MELTDOWNS.
  • SOHN
  • SON LUX
  • SEINABO SEY
  • NIGHT BEDS
  • EVERYTHING EVERYTHING
  • EMPIRE OF THE SUN, believe it or not.
  • DALEY (Color Spectrum album, ironically)

POST-DEATH: "TILLY"??? The girl with twintails. "Post-reset fugue girl."
2019-2022??? HELL OF A LONG TIME FOR SOMEONE SO DISHEVELED.
NO IDEA WHAT HER COLOR WAS, IF SHE EVEN HAD ONE.
ONLY LONG-HAIRED FEMALE "CORE" SINCE AENIMA.
Her time period is VERY fractured too, because her "sense of self" was almost nonexistent and we have NO MEMORY OF MOST OF IT. There were probably several pseudocore shifts.
GRANDMA'S CANCER DIAGNOSIS CHANGED EVERYTHING; that triggered a MASSIVE SHIFT in our very MODE OF EXISTENCE AND GENERAL CONSCIOUSNESS, proven by the fact that it's the ONLY TIME WE REMEMBER LISTENING TO ANY MUSIC.
We have no bloody idea what happened immediately after CNC. That person was violently animicidal and they probably didn't listen to anything but church music anyway, which is tragically hypocritical.
  • Larnelle Harris
  • Burt Bacharach???


"CHALYX" = 2021 HOSPITAL STAY.
She was NOTABLY and DISTINCTLY HER OWN PERSON. She was BLURRING WITH TILLY though!!
  • SARAH JANE MORRIS
  • She started listening to POLISH POP MUSIC actually.


POST-GRIEF, PRE-HOSPITAL. 2022.
Very unique and jarring era. We were displaced from EVERYTHING and lived COMPLETELY ISOLATED & ALONE for FIVE SOLID MONTHS. There is a REAL and SIGNIFICANT music profile for this time period though, because of all the addiction-drives this unknown pseudocore did.
THERE WERE "PHASES" of music but it ALL FEELS LIKE THE SAME PERSON... FOR THE MOST PART.
  • ...

THE REALLY SPECIFIC "SAINT ANNE SUMMER WARS" KID. 2022.
Codename "JANAZMA" for sentimentality's sake.
A suddenly extant INDOMITABLE HOPE-CORE born to TRY AND STOP THE SELF-DESTRUCTION. Woke up via a DREAM and just... changed everything in an instant. Total 180 at the drop of a hat. It was incredible.
Existed from JULY TO SEPTEMBER.
They HAD A HEART. THE LOTOPHAGOI DIDN'T.
  • STUDIO CHIZU MOVIES. My gosh I swear thank you so much for that. They became a LANDMARK in our life and we will never forget the feeling of SHEER INCANDESCENT HOPE that defined this small but indispensably precious time period.
  • ...


2022 WAKEUP CALL, UPMC AGAIN.
SEPTEMBER TO NOVEMBER.
Interesting because, like with Iscah's debut, we have virtually NO MEMORY OF THIS. However there was nonstop muzak for distraction purposes, so we should be able to "ping" someone if we find out WHAT was played.
Remember THE SYSTEM "WOKE UP" NEAR THE END, so that will change the vibes a bit, but that will also be glaringly obvious.
  • ...


AND NOW, WHOEVER THE HECK WE ARE. 2023.
  • ...


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


LATER UPDATES...

We're beginning 2025 as I write this and we're already not sure of:
  • Who the heck was at TBHU
  • Post-Infi shift










020923

Feb. 9th, 2023 11:46 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)
Thursday.

First order of business: bank, returns, & ADL shopping

Doc appointment at 10
Mom met us there & THANK GOD FOR HER
Suggested several bloodwork checks we never even heard of, doctor agreed
Want to find out WHY we're so sick all the time now, why has no one been running tests?

All day everyone in crisis prep mode over Jade

7pm I get a phone call
It's 302 time

Barely any memory of it. Listening to "Bad Snacks" in car trying to stay level. Just made the music triggering now.
Me, Mom, & Astra discussing what to put on the report. Everyone so shaken-up & scared, fearing for safety, worried about future. No one knows what to do with Jade already; we want to help her & see her improve in health, but she is just... off the rails at this point.
Went to hospital, filled out form, can't remember after that
Hiding on porch while local cops went in with the warrant
Couldn't hear a thing, except vague tone of voice, Jade being all sweet and cooperative with cops. Upsetting to hear because probably within 12 hours she is going to be trying to bite their faces off.
seeing the dreadful yellow glow of lightbulbs through the porch curtains. people milling about. childhood terror feelings being triggered by the color and the murmur of adults, and the reality of our hiding.

sad. porch so so surreal. could not remember being out here in "old life," despite how MUCH time we spent there over the years.
pepper wandered out there with us. we laughed, asked if he remembered being a tiny kitten out here on the porch with us, at night, listening to jazz on the radio and hanging up laundry for literally hours. weirdly very fond "memories" although it's a blur. that whole era of our life was very precious and strange, yet inaccessible to us. wonder who lived it.
looking outside, seeing a lack of silhouettes, where mom cut down all the trees that marked our childhood. felt like we had been eviscerated. realized it will never feel like home to us again, too much has changed, and the "home" feeling is anchored to our headspace kids. feeling like part of us was buried in that moment.
tried to remember sitting out here with grandma, watching tv, when she was getting weaker with cancer. could not access any memories at the time. numb. nothing felt real.

cannot remember leaving house and driving home.

don't remember rest of evening






prismaticbleed: (held)


browsing through ANCIENT entries earlier today, I saw this little survey:

YOU CAN TELL A LOT ABOUT SOMEONE BY THE TYPE OF MUSIC THEY LISTEN TO.
HIT SHUFFLE ON YOUR MEDIA LIBRARY AND WRITE DOWN THE FIRST
20 SONGS. (23 for the new year)
ONE RULE: NO SKIPPING.

We haven't done something like this in a while, but the love & memories tied to our music are enough to break through the bleakest days. Let's go.

1. "Vertigo" (U2)
U2's music takes us to a very unusually bright place in our collective memory. Our dad introduced us to them during the jx7 time period, so their tunes are forever painted with that Celebi-summer feeling, driving down highways and finally being free of all social/online connections for the first time in years. It was liberating, and that vibe is what I still catch in this song. Blue skies and a wide-open future. Plus, we always smile at that "uno! dos! tres! catorce!" intro.
...Never actually read the lyrics for this before, though. Feels dystopic. Feels sadly like old headspace days. I guess that's ironically fitting, too-- because even during the upbeat time of our life this song echoes, there was something terrible happening where we couldn't, or refused to, see... everything we wish we didn't know, if you will.

2. "Pororororororo" (IMERUAT)
An unexpectedly heartwarming song. At first the lyrics sound childlike and silly, but the lovely string section suggests something more... so I looked it up, and it's about sharing a meal together. Yes, a triggering topic for us, but... only due to sad experiences. "Let's enjoy our meal, even if we eat alone." Our whole life we were taught that "enjoying" things, especially food, was not only sinful but animalistic, and utterly depraved. Family meals were stressful and rushed and angry as they were rare. We never ate with others in school, and eating in public with the family was always highly distressing and full of fear. So... there's something in this song that makes our inner child want to weep and angrily beat their fists off the wall, bitter and offended and upset, but... there's also something in it that our adult self wants to agree with. We think of Jesus feeding His followers, and of how kids (ideally) naturally share their food with friends. It's an instinctive "I care about you and want you to stay alive" action.
It's a song we do need to think about more, actually. It helps that it's so cute.

3. "Plush Hooves" (Picnic)
This is a song that we discovered recently, but which sounds just like the old "influtusa" days. College.
It's audial beauty, really. The colors and shapes are really nice-- all clear watery arches and round waves of bluish green with pops of crackling pale-yellow brushstrokes. It feels like liquid crystal pipes. It's deeply soothing.
We actually, deep down, love atmospheric glitch-esque stuff like this. It's tied inextricably to a facet of the Cor(e) and although it's been buried, it cannot be denied. This is the crystal-eyed White that exists outside of space, outside of form, and right now, we need that desperately.
It helps that it's 7 minutes long. You can get softly lost in this sort of soundscape, and thank God for that.

4. "Kamome" (Taku Matsushiba)
Despite the unfortunate album art-- and the fact that we've never seen this anime and don't plan to-- there are some tracks on its OST that are really lovely. This is one of them. I like the music-box intro that is suddenly embraced by that string section cascade! Honestly though... we love this track because it sounds like our old violin-lesson refuge. The solo starting at 1:21 sounds like Lynne's heart. 
There's a deep sense of safety, of comfort, of peace, that we get from hearing stringed instruments and pianos layered warm and deep like this. It makes us feel like a child again, alone in that big store surrounded by musical instruments, by wood and metal and glass and paper, hearing muffled melodies from upstairs, seeing the rain outside... again, we would be totally alone, just us and the League's heart, with infinite potential and creative beauty all around us. Those memories are precious, and we treasure them. We are grateful that we can still re-live them so strongly through songs like this.

5. "11 Hands" (Alfonso Peduto)
A brand new addition to our library, Alfonso's layered piano loops are exactly the sort & sound of thing we would compose if we had the means. We love the rhythmic complexity, the evocative harmonies, and the sense of... what? Finality? Hope? These songs all sound like the verge of some great turning point, some shift in the heart, some painful tearful courageous reach towards victory, towards light.
There are albums full of wonderful pieces like this by him. Each one feels unique. This one, with its higher notes and almost waltz-like lilt at times, is less driving and more aspirational to me. It feels like daylight rushing through treetops, like a sudden rainfall through breaking clouds, like a determination in your soul to get up, to not give up, to turn your face to the sky and the sun no matter what happens next.
It feels like someone in the System. I'm not sure who. A girl, maybe a Jewel. But the resonance is there. It's inevitable, with how closely this guy's compositions resemble our soul.

6. "Missa Festiva, Op. 62: Gloria" (Flor Peeters)
We love listening to different Mass settings, especially the more unique orchestral ones. The Gloria is always interesting to hear, because of the many different emotions it elicits-- this song moves from the dissonant notes of penitence to the soaring golden chords of praise, the whole time feeling strangely alien, angelic even, with trumpeted edges and that organ rumbling true beneath it all.
It's always fascinating to listen to choral pieces, too-- the human voice is an instrument in its own right, and each voice pronounces words slightly differently, as well as with a different pitch and tone. Listening to them all marbling together in these pieces, some more notable than others, some ringing out as solos, but all part of some greater whole... its fascinating. These are living souls making that music with their own selves. Within the context of this hymn to their Creator... it's a transcendent experience.

7. "Çok Özlüyorum Seni" (Gökhan Tepe)
I literally went "YESSSSSS" when this came up on shuffle, haha! For all you Moralimon fans, this is legit Nebisai's song, because it sounds like him, not just in voice but also in tone-- it's a bright & upbeat song, but it's about heartbreak... and hope. "I miss you so much." But "I know you will be back soon... I saw it in my dream last night." Nebsy is one of the most ebullient 'mons I know and yet he hails from a very tormented world... he has experienced war and loss and despair and exile, and yet! He still sings! He still holds on to hope! And I love that about both him, and this song. When you're hurting, but you can still make music like this, about that ache... that means a lot, man. It shows that love is what is shining through at the heart of it all, not bitterness. 
Also the percussion is DELICIOUS. I love Turkish instrumentation, especially in this, with the overlapping rhythms and clear treble chordophones and that dancing bassline! Even the wind instruments are lovely, haha, and that's notable coming from me!
Gosh I just love this song. Turkish music is boss, God bless these guys.

8. "The First Noel" (Kenny G)
THERE YOU ARE SAXOPHONE MAN!! This guy's Christmas albums are eternal tradition in our house for the Christmas season; our birthmom used to joke "it's not Christmas until we have candles & Kenny G!" Sadly, we did not have either of those things this year... but what the heck, it's not Epiphany yet, better late than never!
Really, his instrumentation is fantastic as well. That soprano saxophone meshes so smoothly with the bell-like keyboard (which is notable; I usually can't stand obviously electronic keyboards), the subtle but silver strings, and of course that echoing percussion that makes the whole song sound wide and clear and bright as that field the ancient shepherds met the jubilant angels in. Even so... this song also sounds so small and cozy. Maybe that's just childhood memories, or the 90's mixing, but this whole album just makes me feel like a kid again, watching the snowfall by the Christmas tree, colorful lights everywhere and the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air. Oh yeah, and of course the saxophone carols on mom's boombox.
Shoutout to Leon with this song, haha. I love you bro.

9. "Castles- 12" Full Length Version" (It Bites)
PROG ROCK SON!!!
It Bites will always have a very, very dear place in my heart because I first discovered them the week I was first admitted to the psych ward. I had "This Is England" playing in my head for those five hellish days, and I swear to you that was the only thing that kept me going some nights, unable to sleep, terrified of the next day. But I'd hear John Mitchell singing in those dark hours and it reminded me that there was still beauty in the world, out beyond those barred double-pane windows. This wasn't forever.
However! My good man John was only 14 or so when this track was released so his trademark voice isn't on here, haha. But Francis Dunnery has a lovely set of pipes as well, honestly.
And... in beautiful contrast to the windows of the ward, this song speaks of a castle with no such cruel fortifications--

10. "Emily" (Andy Williams)
Andy Williams's voice echoes through all my childhood memories. My grandmother loved his music, and would frequently play it at night as I fell asleep.
I honestly love the way he pronounces certain words and vowels, and
This song has no memories in particular attached to it, but it does have a tie-in to the League. The "romance" of this song was totally defused by attaching it to Emily in Soulstitch, and her plush pal Kenzel-- turning the reference to "family" from a marital cliche into a childhood comfort. Love isn't just for grownups; the truest lovers are those who love without any motives of gain or attraction. It's why the League focuses on such children, and their relationships with creatures who likewise love with such purity of intent.
It's the only way I can listen to this song, by thinking of that.

11. "I Believe, Help My Unbelief" (Larnelle Harris)
Larnelle's music means a great deal to me, because I played it on loop for months when I was taking care of my grandmother in home hospice. I'd do dishes and laundry and cooking for her and the whole time Mr. Harris would be praising God in the background. It kept my heart and mind in a good place, anchored in faith and hope, which I desperately needed during that time of sickness and stress.
This song, based on Mark 9:24, means a lot to me as well. I have always loved that Gospel, for the raw desperate honesty of that man in his weak yet real faith... and because I relate so, so strongly to that sentiment.
 

12. "The Man That Time Forgot" (Ed Harcourt)
This song always brings me to tears.

13. "Some Children See Him" (Andy Williams)
I'm really glad this one came up because, although Kenny is my mom's Christmas tune dude, Andy is my grandmother's playlist staple.

14. "Be Here Now" (Ray LaMontagne)
This song belongs to Dori. It was one from her Last.fm back in like '09, and it struck us to the heart in both sound and message.
The instrumentation feels like a bright fog, with the echoing piano & vocals, and smooth strings singing over that soundhaze backdrop. But then there's the guitar. Golden and clear, it's like sunlight filtering through the morning mist. The lyrics reflect this tangible hope.
"Don't let your mind get weary... don't let your heart get heavy... don't let your soul get lonely..." and then, "don't look for love in faces [or] places; it's in you, that's where you'll find kindness. Be here, now."
It speaks directly to us as a System.
...How many times have I tried to run away from us? How often has my weary mind, or heavy heart, made my soul feel lonely? Inside of "me" there is us, a strength founded in love, a love that tears down every wall. But I have to be here. I have to BE, with us, with all of us, right now. It's the only hope I have of holding on to faith or light or life. Our collective being is a ray of light piercing every cloud, and outlasting every trial.
I needed to hear this song again today. Thank You.

15. "This River Is Wild" (The Killers)
This is an old one, from Jewel's high school days, when her Red slowly started to turn into Cannon's edge.
The lyrics cut us pretty deep It speaks directly of the trauma echoes and struggles we were just beginning to battle at that time.
"Or should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else. I've been trying hard to do what's right, but you know I could stay here all night..." I swear we must have quoted this in a Blurty once, long ago.
We still don't get along with anyone but ourselves, sadly. It's notsomuch misanthropy (although we are becoming disturbingly aware of a lot of pent-up damaged rage lately) as it is feeling alien. Every day we struggle to do "what's right," but... we're up until 5am just typing. Just getting lost in our head. It's the only place where we feel accepted, real, alive... but it's a wild river. There's so much turbulence. But it's water, man. It's life.
The stormy guitars and rushing percussion, along with the Brandon Flower's signature vocals-- subtly high-strung, a little shaky, and sounding like a confession-- make this song feel like last words in a way, to us. There's a finality to it, something hard but hurt, spitting splinters and being brutally direct-- here's the shit I see in the world, but it's in me first. I only recognize it because I'm fighting it tooth and nail inside, every hour.
The outro always brings us to tears for some reason. That last line, the way everything crumples into a keyboard and his wavering voice, just... hurts, after that shout of a song. It hurts like having only a thread of hope left in that dark night, surrounded by people and noise but alone, and never able to be a part of it. At least, to us.

16. "Jupiter" (Sleeping At Last)
A short song, but the lyrics break me in half.
"I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not."
Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count. Let every little fracture in me shatter out loud.

17. "The Way We Were (Soundtrack Version)" (Barbara Streisand)
This one speaks to our constant haunting of time, of how dearly we miss what we've lost, and yet...
"Can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me, would we? Could we?"

What's too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget... trauma does work like that, sadly.
Ironically, we don't remember the laughter. What stands out the strongest is the pain.
But... this song makes us think. Why don't we remember the positive things more? Why don't we focus on our joy as "the way we were?" It's a thought.

18. "Hurts" (Mika)
Well this is just friendship trauma from beginning to end.
"You say it's only words, and that it will get easier with time. Nothing's only words; that's how hearts get hurt. I can't, I can't, I can't stop hearing all the words you said..."
Both we and they treated words-- or the lack thereof-- as careless weapons, to be honest.
This wasn't verbal abuse. This was phrases, comments, snippets of conversation that gutted us in different ways, that still repeat between our ears, words that they probably never realized would damage us so badly.
But... words are what made us into "strangers by the end," when we would leave. The words we wrote, the words they spoke, all ultimately destroyed what feeble friendships we had.
Oh of course, the actions were horrible too. But they only happened BECAUSE of words, words disrespected and forced and parroted and flatly delivered, words like arrows and daggers. Talking our way into and out of trouble. Always too much talk.
Sorry. Can't think about this too much.

19. "Hard to Beat" (Hard-Fi)
YEAAAAAAAH this one's a CLASSIC.
It's in here because it's a "League lovesong" from like 2005. OLD DAYS BRO.

20. "Tempest" (SOHN)
Geez this band sounds like the Cannon days. It's disturbing and dark and red.
This song is so disjointed. It reads like an unhinged entry of ours.
"O Lord, I got lost along the way You set for me. I got to say I'm sorry; wash my sins away..."
but then there's the catch. "I love her like no other."
And if this is truly the Cannon days, then we are absolutely dealing with moral panic and homophobia.

21. "Am I Dreamin'" (Atlantic Starr)
On the surface this is obviously a love song that I can easily apply to any of my internal loves, but... on a greater level, this is for the entire System.
"Am I dreaming? Am I just imagining you're here in my life?"
Self-doubt hurts like hell, especially when you love the very souls that everyone else says don't exist.

22. "Towerblock" (FROST*)
This song hits hard, now that our old house really is being “torn down,” or at least, torn up.

 

23. "Yahweh" (The Brilliance)
This is the perfect track to close up with.



(left unfinished)
 

112722

Dec. 27th, 2022 11:36 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

a quick update for the sake of updating.
it seems that whenever i slack off the daily updates, even for like three days, my mood and mental state absolutely hit the deck.

therapy was today. she actually wants us to come in tomorrow morning too, at 11am. so i'm taking advantage of that and staying up a little later and then sleeping in. i have not been sleeping well at all lately. we've been averaging 4-6 hours, tops.
today... she wanted to know what our "top 5 most triggered trauma memories were" and we ended up going on a tangent, explaining that we had a massive memory break post-NC, in that the INSTANT we got into the family car, to go home after almost sixteen months of hell masquerading as paradise, our state of mind COMPLETELY SHIFTED. that fast. barely five minutes out of tbas's driveway, we were struggling to remember what they even looked like. it was a hard shift. but what was even worse was that, when we did get home, we didn't remember anything about THAT, either.
so. our childhood, up until approximately age 11 (jewel's debut), is 99.9% gone from memory. we have virtually no first-person childhood memories; most everything we "know" is from mom showing us family movies.
still. what we do remember from our own eyes is traumatic. it's ironic and tragic; even today, our memory only seems to "kick in" when something scary is happening. (i wonder if that ties into the self-abusive efforts when we're feeling super empty? is our brain trying to jumpstart some sense of existence in time through bloodshed and terror? probably)
there are a handful of traumatic events in childhood we regularly get flashbacks of: the time(s) we had to kneel on rice and say the rosary, the time they tried to lock us in the coal cellar, the time grandma locked us out of our bedroom and we slept on the hall carpet, the time they threw us out of the house and locked the doors and we legit thought we were disowned, the time our grandmother faked her own death over dinner and we ran into the bathroom and screamed. a few smaller events, like hiding "the stick" and hiding ourself behind the piano and grandma laughing maniacally during thunderstorms saying "we're all going to die" etc. all shook us greatly but the emotions are so detached from the events?? it's bizarre. and i know there's a lot missing. like whatever happened in the dressing rooms at the ymca. and at the county fairs. things at school i'm sure. lots of shredded, fragmented memories.
but. we didn't discuss those. she wanted to know what was the most frequent one now.
and... there are some that always come up.
the livingroom rape. the porch hell. the bed.
yes, there are others. halloween. the birthday. the power outage. the renfaire. the band rehearsals. and so much with that bloody kitchen. and of course slc, with the car crash, and the bedroom, and the highway, and the shower, and the livingroom too.
but... those first three from nc keep plaguing us. we're in a state of near-constant hypervigilant horror five bloody years later.
so we told her that. and we talked a bit about... what? i forget. i think symptoms. oh! no, it was about the memory gaps, and the personality shifts-- notably how we were a different person in EVERY NEW ENVIRONMENT. mentioning how the day we left our old house to fly out to NC, we were watching ourself move and speak like it was a horror film. we still don't know who the heck was fronting back then. who always got brainwashed by these western kids telling us "your family is abusive and they are going to kill you BUT I CAN SAVE YOU" etc etc etc. always someone trying to "fix us" because we were "broken" in some way or another. that's exactly why and how the julie days started.

anyway. afterwards we stayed in the commonroom for a halfhour because she gave us two assessments to complete? short but important. a beck depression inventory, and a dissociative one, the des-ii.
well, we were honest, but we were kind of pessimistic-- "just watch," i thought, "we won't have any symptoms at all, we're just fakes and liars, we won't be able to continue therapy," etc.
...
our beck score was 51.
our des score was frickin' 87.

...I never realized just how unhealthy our daily life is, in light of those questionnaires.
i remember talking over the questions with people. laurie, lynne, julie, scalpel, chaos 0, infi, the whole regular gang. being as honest as i could, making sure they all agreed. still shocked to see the "3" next to so many of my daily, even hourly, thoughts. shocked to have to put "100" for so many experiences that are my consistent "normal".
so. no idea what she will say about this, but that's what tomorrow is about.

got home for... 11 i think? body was actually painfully hungry.
breakfast prep took a while. listening to Alişan on loop the whole time, forgot how much i love turkish pop.
today was the feast day for saint john the evangelist! so we read 1 john 1 over breakfast.
i'll have to take notes on that later; my brain's too fuzzy right now... but we were comparing footnotes between the NET & TPT and there were some truly beautiful comments & expounded notes. it's also very convicting, but with deep love-- it tells you straight that love is the most important thing, that love is divine and that Christians must be defined by it. emphasizing the divine nature of Jesus in light of that love. emphasizing fellowship with God, which was translated in one version as "intimacy" with Him. lots to meditate on and pray about.
as usual, mimic and i were discussing this the most, sometimes just with each other really. mimic always pushing me to check the etymology, look up some explanations for this phrase, etc. never taking anything at face value. it's honestly moved me to be less "casual" about my studies, too, which I am prone to do when tired or overstimulated. but with him instigating the extra work, it's not tiring at all. now it's a friend I'm answering to and explaining for, and that makes the entire effort a joy, really.

i haven't mentioned online yet, i don't think, but mimic has absolutely decided to move into the league. there are at least three options open. he's too separate from his canon-self now, and has become so strongly anchored in the innerworld, that he has literally become a "different person" with only the deepest roots hearkening back to his native self. he's been blooming into a new life here, and thank God for that, it's all i wanted for him and i don't know if he will get that in canon-- certainly not to the focused extent he can and has gotten here.
but yeah. he's ours now, in a very real way. i don't think any outspacer moved in this fast or completely. he gets all the awards, haha. i do know that galadia & phlegmoni have been inspired by him though, and are now trying to be more involved in our community as well, so we'll see how that helps them grow further. admittedly phleg does have significant anchorage and he is absolutely not his canonself anymore; he had barely anything there to begin with and with all the hospital admissions around the time i met him, a real bond developed very quickly. as for gal, she's so new, and pokemon are always so free-fluid in terms of "background," they take special time and investment to anchor. but they're also the easiest, arguably, because they're meant to grow so freely within the lives of their partners.
i want to bring gleam into this. celebi is getting more involved, like she was in the early 2000s. i know ventrium can come back, i can feel his soul, just a tiny flicker but it's there. and i'm determined to see him again, so that's helping. intention is powerful in headspace, as is focus-- for good or ill.

but i can't talk about that more right now. i'm so tired. yes i do love everyone but... i'm still struggling with the suicidal ideation of yesterday.

i can't remember what we did after breakfast. time gaps. i know we got slammed by depression again.
oh geez yeah now i remember. mom gave us a bunch of dvds to watch, and she wanted to take us & the sibs to see avatar today, but... honestly we hate pop culture and movies. i can't pretend we don't. the very thought of "having to watch" these movies and thus infect our brain with them was making me so depressed i wanted to just lie down on the floor. i remember standing and staring out the window for several minutes, blankly, unable to move.
we went on a few christian movie-review websites, including one called "for the kids" or something that was disturbing because yeah, it told you what was not "kid-friendly" in a movie, like violence & language & sexuality, but it gave EXPLICIT DETAILS. so here we are, looking up the movies mom gave us, and we wanted to throw up. instead we threw all the movies back in a bag and refused to even look at them.
dear God. how can people even THINK like that. WHO puts horrible stuff like that in a movie and thinks its OKAY. i don't understand.
i got up and tried to distract myself by doing busywork in the kitchen. prepping breakfast for tomorrow already. updating the restock-date postits. washing the dishes because i forgot with how disheveled i was mentally (and that's notable-- usually headspace scolds me for doing too much cleaning).
well mom called at 330 when we were in the kitchen-- and she said that our siblings, as usual, stayed up till 5 and had just woken up, and their personal care rituals are so extensive there was no way they could do that and eat and get ready for a movie today. so it was postponed. honestly i was glad-- i was crushingly tired and couldn't handle a movie right now, let alone all the insane stress of mom picking us up and blasting music and chatting with everyone at once and being forced into blackout social mode for several hours straight. no thank you.

so we got on the bike.
it took a bit. we were so tired i could barely put on our exercise clothes. tired and cold and depressed. wanted to go back to bed. but knew that would just exacerbate this.
so we started slow. said the divine mercy chaplet. read a little bit more religious tabs. then decided since it was tuesday we'd say our favorite sorrowful mysteries, because we sure were feeling sorrowful too.
had a great idea though. opened spotify. made playlists for the "rainbow rosary project" we started planning a year ago or so. different mysteries and a color for each day of the week, meaning four sets of mysteries we personally were putting together for personal devotion. all in chronological order. taking the entire history of salvation into account. but yeah we decided that since we can NEVER listen to youtube or podcast or radio recitations of the rosary because they go super slow (which promotes dissociation), often play really creepy new-agey music (trauma trigger) AND often have "trancelike" vocals by WOMEN with whispery voices which is TERRIFYING. so we cannot do it. we can't.
so we put our new idea into practice today. test run. said the rosary while looking at our saved pictures of each mystery, listening to alfonso peduto on loop. time flew by. didn't "suck us in" to the events like adoration-hour rosaries do (we forgot about adoration today; totally lost track of time and our body was so distracted & sick it didn't even cross our mind. I'm sorry Jesus) but slammed us emotionally nevertheless. so, a success. now we just need to build musical playlists in our spare time. it's a devotional effort. we always say how fervently we want to "personalize our religious practice" so it HONESTLY involves our ENTIRE soul and this is a huge step towards that.

biked for two hours and ten minutes. felt awesome. at least until our body realized it needed food, haha. started to get nauseous and dizzy.
xenophon was scolding me about adding too much salt & drinking too much tea but i told her sweetheart, i probably sweated out all my electrolytes, this will help. and it did, thank God. we never want to accidentally trigger bulimia-grade body sickness again; that was literal hell and that becomes ever clearer the further we get from it.
normal dinner, except we swapped the english muffin for a slice of the whole wheat bread we had frozen. trying to use some of that up, and it's less calories so it fits different meal schedule edits which is nice as an option.
got a new fortune too. very very relevant to today-- both the bible study and all the cbt talk in therapy & inpatient.
"all personal breakthroughs begin with a change in beliefs."
thinking of how important that is.

body crashed hard after dinner. 1030 i wanted to go straight to bed. said no, can't, need to have some integrity of reliability and update for once. even just a bit. so here i am.
it's 1230 now. at this rate we will be asleep for 1, and awake at 10, so 9 hours. good. much better than four good heavens
we're having fun setting alarm songs. today was the live version of "hyperventilate" by FROST* which opens with Jem shouting "WHAT-HO" before the keyboard kicks in and we always laugh at the sheer energy of it all. God i want to see them live in concert so badly but i'd have to get a passport first, haha. still a man can dream. tomorrow's alarm is "cutie cutie" by fusq. it opens up with such happy bouncy sounds; we need that little boost of optimism before therapy.

tomorrow is going to be tricky, again.
i spent almost two hours today trying to draft a solid mealplan for "travel schedule days" which are currently four days a week but sunday is a wildcard. but the other three i have to be up at 7, leave the house by 730, get home around 11am. have to immediately eat breakfast because i have to eat lunch by 430 as i have to leave again at 530pm, and won't get home until 830. so then i have to schedule in a small snack for the instant i walk in the door to make sure our body doesn't crash during the night what with all the fasting we'd otherwise be doing.
but yeah. i got it figured out, thanks be to God. now we just have to fine-tune sunday-- we have the "church breakfast" down solid but the evenings are unplanned? typically because mom likes to do things on sundays (can't we just have a day of rest please) and besides we're at church from 8am until 12pm, 1pm if we're lucky. so we don't get to eat lunch until 2pm, which pushes dinner to 630 or 7? HOWEVER eating that early and then typically waiting until 11 the next day for breakfast means ~16 hours fasting. which our body doesn't always like. oh we love to fast, absolutely, but when the brain fog and shakes and confusion and low glucose hit, we need to eat whether we like it or not. so... i'm wondering about sunday schedules. maybe doing a 10-2-6 plan and a 9pm tiny snack. because we cannot eat early in the mornings, nothing before 945 (which is forced on sunday to fit between masses & still have an hour of mandatory Eucharistic fasting) and usually not until 11 or noon. we need that morning time pure and untouched so we can think and dream and pray. but we'll figure it out. i'll pray about it. gotta get into that habit. learning a lot from protestants, actually. they have wonderful prayer habits. so do old church ladies in general, haha. but my personal experience with catholic prayer has been too recitatory and repetitive. i'm really starting to like the spontaneous, no-wrong-time-to-pray attitude of our protestant brothers & sisters. it brings all of life into God, which I need. which we need. that's the whole point. i want our life to be a prayer. so we've gotta pray about our life.
lastly. why i brought up this topic.
tomorrow we have our 11am therapy but then the church we have bible study at on thursday invited us to wednesday night mass?? i didn't know they had one. but they say the seven sorrows rosary before it and she means so much to me, and especially laurie. so we're gonna go. only thing is, it starts at 630 i think? and assumedly will go until 745. so, we have to do a weird mealplan because we aren't going to get to eat breakfast until almost noon and have to shove another meal in before church. but we figured it out. only problem is, since it requires superfast prep, tomorrow needs to be a no-egg day. it's going to be daring; it's a "break in ritual" and predictable structure which can set off our anxiety. but xennie said we'll be daring, it'll make the egg days even more special, besides it's not forever. we'll try it and see how it works! God bless her she's such a ray of sunshine in my life. i love her so much.

...i really do love the system. all of them, everyone. all of us.
today after that mess with the movies i remember how i got back on track. and what i did. why i was just doing busywork in the kitchen.
i was talking to laurie.
we were just discussing how i felt, really. some general conversation about daily life. but it was just me and her for like an hour. and it lifted me out of hell.
i had hope, talking to her. i had love. i was alive.
listen, the next time someone, anyone, says that "being multiple is a sin" you tell them to hit the road. they don't know what they're talking about. if they could feel love they would know. they would know this is from God.
(btw at one point i was slipping really bad and i forget what happened but laurie picked me up off the floor by grabbing my hair and suddenly i felt this rush of affection for her? tied to the pain. she caught this, said bitterly is that all it takes to get me back in my own head? why is it always the pain? i said because it shows that she cares enough to hurt me when it helps, that her love is real and doesn't flinch at pain, and she cares enough to get that close and personal. then i asked her to clock me one. and she did, haha. straight up punch to the jaw like she used to. i was so unstable i reacted the old-school way too; the "crazy love eyes", bloody nose, cartoon stars around my head. deliriously high for a second. blunt impact pain in headspace tends to translate as that. but it shocked me out of depression. how weird is that. not surprising when it's me haha
but... i guess the point is i am still capable of feeling things. just need a little shove in the right direction, so to speak.

last few notes.
haven't updated about the "christmas triad" yet. suffice to say it was... strange.
sang 5 masses. mom gave up on christmas. actually drew my beloved for the 23rd. xenophon my only present under the tree. ice circles on the river. nearly fainting during midnight mass. terrible food disturbances with family. oversocialization and time gaps and hanging on to God for dear life because i had nothing else and wanted nothing else. chaos 0 grabbing my shoulders and shouting what do you think you're doing in tears. etc.
i'll have entries written soon. if i can't start them tomorrow, then hopefully thursday. unless we have choir practice for the solemnity of mary, haha. we'll see. i can't "take a night off" because then i'm no longer reliable; i've lived so long as a "no-show" that it's honestly marring my ability and willingness to show up; i'm just so unbelievably tired that i want to cancel all the plans on the calendar and just rest. but... i still need to practice the virtues of dependability and loyalty. and tenacity despite difficulty. singing means a lot to me, so why not sacrifice for it? why not put in the extra effort especially when it's a struggle? i want to grow in integrity and strength. i'm so tired of being effeminate and weak and cowardly. no. gotta man up and be strong. gotta be a good father to my daughter. gotta set a good example. God give me strength, I need it, and only You can give it.
"don't go bashing women in the process" good point. too much internalized misogyny, too much fear projecting outwards as mockery. i'm genuinely sorry. it's not fair, it's not kind, and it's not right.

on that note. gender has been a helltopic lately. can't deny that i'm not straight or cis. but can't deny that i feel obligated to be because of my religion. wanting to sob and scream and die whenever i see articles by tradcaths online. "only one way to be a woman" etc etc don't use that word on me. DON'T. so much fear and hatred and rage and agony. i don't want this. i don't like this. it's standing directly in the way of my being a good christian. "love one another." but love cannot coexist with terror.
i guess that's why we're in therapy

speaking of
it's 12:52. time to log off and get some sleep
see you tomorrow i hope

121522

Dec. 15th, 2022 10:58 pm
prismaticbleed: (held)

weird day. not even gonna mark this one as "unfinished" even if it's unstructured because i don't have much to type today.

last night was too existentially disturbing to recover from overnight. i'm still shaken and distracted today. my sense of self is shot. i kept slipping in language AND self-perception. didn't recognize the mirror several times. so much automated behavior and memory gaps. this isn't cool.

caseworker woke me up at like 10:20? right before our alarm. biweekly checkup i guess. asked about therapy, about food, about cash, about doctors. i said we had enough food for now, therapy looks promising, all doctors are video visits for the near future, but i'm afraid to ask my payee for cash because "i fear being penalized for asking." got that from upbringing: "you're not allowed to ask," and "you're not supposed to ask," culminating in "BUT now that you DID, you will be punished by our specifically denying you AND not trusting you in the future!" in other words, if i ask my payee for more money so i can wash clothes and buy winterwear and even get something "for myself"-- honestly, if i had the guts i'd ask to start putting aside savings to finally get a bloody high-polyphony midi-controller 88-key weighted keyboard, i'm trying to learn the jargon kids-- i'm terrified that she'll say, "you don't need that! is that how you spend your money? selfishly and luxuriously? well then, you WON'T get money, until I DECIDE you can, AND we're going to severely decrease what money you DO get because you don't need that much." learn to live in poverty kiddo!! stop wanting to have things!! but the caseworker said to discuss these fears with her, and build better communication, and FIND OUT what my limits and expectations actually are. mom called like five minutes later i think and i told her this same fear, and she said that i should "frame my requests" in a "mental health" way?? like, i want to get musical tech because it's "enrichment" and "helps combat depression and purposelessness" and same thing for other "nonessentials" like even the bloody peppermint & cinnamon oils i always put on my bed because it grounds me. frame it as "psychological aids" mom said. feels like lying, but it's not. isn't that weird? like i constantly have to "justify" WHY i want or godforbid "need" things that aren't bare-bones essentials, and even THEN i feel so ashamed to want "more." i grew out of my clothes (still hate hate hate that) and need new ones because right now i'm wearing the same outfits for like a week straight. they're not very warm. but "it's enough!" live ascetically boy!! you don't need more clothes. but my mom says the people in church are "gossiping" and asking "why do they always wear the same outfit?? are they that poor and/or mentally ill? won't their family help them? why isn't the mother doing anything?" it reflects back on her and she legit keeps PUSHING HER clothes on me. which doesn't help, just sets off trauma, but God knows i am still genuinely grateful for her care. still it's unfair of me to claim this is "saving face" on her part. maybe part of it is but who cares. honestly she's a good woman and she loves her kids and she wants to do what she can to help. i see that and i appreciate it. i just... can't wear what she gives, either from dysphoria or fibro triggers. but i'm grateful. and with food, i mentioned that i see THAT as a luxury too, geez i shudder to think of the possible tirade i'm gonna get from our dietician tomorrow. "why are you eating the same things over and over you NEED VARIETY you NEED TO TRY NEW THINGS you NEED TO BE ADVENTUROUS" no i don't, that's hedonistic garbage talk, i HATED that about inpatient, they just kept pushing "adventurous eating" and "tackle all your fear foods" and "variety variety" and no. nope. not when you're poor and obsessive-compulsive and highly limited in both preparation time and space and means. i can't cook or boil or bake things; i do NOT trust my dissociation and i DO have a LOT of legit trauma tied to kitchens, especially stoves and ovens. and meal-planning can honestly keep me awake at night, sobbing in frustration as i try to figure out perfect nutritionally balanced macros and ratios and timing, while "eating everything THEY want me to eat." capital n Nope. we have it down to the same thing every day and it works. it's easy to make, JUST like the binges were, which is WHY they were "psychologically soothing." we spent hours just cutting and chopping and peeling vegetables (so many knives and blades. god why do we miss that so much) and then more hours eating them one bit at a time with chopsticks and it was all just mechanically repetitive ritualized behavior that allowed our consciousness to SHUT DOWN. perpetual dissociation. well we're using the same basic method for different ends: now the "ritual" is automated enough for us to use that "non-thinking" space to TALK UPSTAIRS. and with xenophon ghosting, i don't blackout dissociate anymore. God bless her. God bless EVERYONE in headspace; THEY are saving my life, thank the Lord, NOT that hellish hospital. still, it was necessary. we needed to "gain weight" solely because our body needed something to work with after years of running on empty. we're still pissed, yeah, but at least we're not 90 pounds. and yet i still keep watching that scale, stable since discharge, waiting for it to drop. except, now we're getting SOME VISIBLE MUSCLE TONE, just a bit but it is evidently different from how flabby we were after sitting on our collective ass for almost nine weeks, PLUS the months of long-covid and post-loss despair. we've gotta WORK to get back in shape but we won't give up. it was worse in 2017. yeah we were also literally starving ourselves but we didn't get very strong as a result. striving to do the opposite now. still eat, but temperately, and get BUFF. that's the goal really.
what were we talking about. oh yeah. "non-essentials." thank GOD we had enough savings to get the exercise bike. huge expense but essential, and they NEVER would have authorized that purchase through disability payments. so thank god again.
but yeah. limited foods now, we don't mind, but the dietician might. we'll just have to be honest and stand our ground within reason. we'll see what happens tomorrow. and DON'T LIE. no half-truths, NO empty "agreeing" to be a "good patient," NO compromises or censoring. we be HONEST. and we work WITH the doctors to do what is WISE. remember that fortune we have taped to the laptop. "do what is RIGHT, not what you "SHOULD."" discernment is key. i think i typed that exact same thing before, but it deserves a repeat. "should" is a thought distortion byproduct. don't use that language. use insight and clarity. speak up and stand up BUT be open to honest legit correction too. we're learning.

anyway. i remember we were in the kitchen for 11:11 because i saw it and smiled. we're finally seeing GOOD numbers again, not just the evil ones. it's so reassuring. maybe a silly comfort but god knows we love numbers and balance and symmetry and stuff. so that's always soothing, even just mentally in that respect, to see. feels like a message, "you're doing good. keep it up." helps a lot. whereas the other one is "watch out, you're not thinking right, get back on the road." scary to see, but. a vital warning.

my memory is shot for today. again, it's the reeling residue from yesterday. haven't dealt with it. honestly in shock from not only my legit WRATH meltdown with jezebel, but the similar trauma-hate conflagration over that movie. i guess that's why God pushed me to watch it. unexpected, and highly upsetting, but He knows what He's doing. how the heck else was i gonna realize that THIS is still a cancer in my soul? at least now we can treat it.

breakfast... oh yeah, we had one busted egg. when they crack, we just junk the yolk and add +1 white to the BK protein. it works. still feel bad about trashing the yolk, though. wonder if there's anything we can do with 'em, even just for the squirrels (google says they'll eat 'em, and they're safe for dogs too, so hey). we want to be a "good wizard," Lord knows we MUST re-read that series soon, too. we never finished it and apparently there are extra novellas and such? which is cool. but in any case we need to print out the oath and pin it to our wall. that will help a TON, i can guarantee you. punch entropy in the teeth son

during breakfast talk, laurie mentioned that she was going to try to "give up the profanity" for new year's again; it's tough because that was part of her original function and so it's almost etched into her code, so to speak. but she's shifting, especially in hue, in a healthier way, and that doesn't really "fit" who she wants to be anymore. so she told xenophon, "i want you to stop me if you catch me swearing." xennie said okay, but no "swear jar," she didn't want to take any money. laurie said fine, then just punch me. xennie said no!! i can't hit you. laurie said c'mon kid, you won't hurt me. just give me a light punch even. xenophon did, really cutely, and laurie beamed and said see, that's it! and i guess xenophon, realizing this wasn't "being mean" and it was helping, suddenly took on this new job with absolute adorable enthusiasm. for the rest of the morning, if laurie slipped and dropped an f-bomb xenophon would dash over and pummel her leg with her fists, just a bit. "laurie don't swear!!" it's the funniest thing. laurie is getting a total kick out of this, i can tell, but it's also humbling for her, to now be accountable to this sweet little kid in her efforts to be less offensive towards such people. it means a lot to see, really.

i've been informed that scalpel and phlegmoni are cayenne bros because 1. it's red leaning vermilion and 2. it gives you... achy burny eyes. they find this hilarious. they're trying to bring razor into it, but her color doesn't quite match. however i know her, she's still red, and reds can be jokesters in their own right. blame jewel. so heaven only knows what will happen with all this, haha. i've gotta admit, part of me does like spicy stuff too. i'm telling you, it's a red thing. jot that down in our new "color characteristic" files, honestly it's fascinating to find stuff like this, even little things, that can be consistently measured and observed. learning! yeah! it's pretty awesome in here. 

tried to biblestudy while we ate again. realized we're two days behind on that advent devotional, but we cannot put the required spiritual focus into it if we're splitting with breakfast attention. so we smartly set it aside for the time being. unfortunately we also dissociated for the whole meal, apparently, because i have NO recall of it at all. no problems though. xenophon and laurie make sure.

after eating we felt dizzy & tired & sick as always (still not sure if that's e.d. recovery stuff or a legit intolerance, we'll ask tomorrow if it feels safe to-- don't want to get labeled as a hypochondriac again, yes it's "boy who cried wolf" on their end but we always sincerely want advice, if we're wrong then good we just want to know), so we brought up the bible app again. realized they have that advent-plan badge challenge going, so i found a 5-day one that was rather simple and did it all within an hour. did me a lot of good actually; i'm really learning to love some "modern" translations, like "the message" and "the passion" and "plain english version" and of COURSE hawaii pidgin. yes i will compare them to the NET and AMP and RSV and such, but... the ones that "paraphrase" sometimes add such gorgeous new light to the message. taken as a whole, it enriches the scripture so much. it's deeply moving and i really love it. so i want to do that more. keep up on the devotional plans, especially ones that have "talk about it" or "apply this truth" bits. things that will push me to type and think and act. that's the best.

also.
finally got the guts to soft-quit tumblr.
i've wanted to for months. the place is SO TOXIC. the language is horrid, there's so much fighting, there's sexual depravity everywhere. no matter what blog i bring up, i'm bracing for impact, never knowing what triggers i might stumble across. it's exhausting. it's poisoning our brain, too, which was PROVEN by the orange & yellow voices yesterday-- "bright" hues are inherently SOCIAL and as such they INTERNALIZE ALL SOCIAL EXPOSURE, even if it's only online.
but... it's not just that. it's the religious mask i've put on to "fit in." it was so unconscious, and so dissociative, that i didn't realize it was happening until i started reviewing old entries. ...it was getting to the point where i was trying to erase my ACTUAL personality in order to be a "good christian" according to the internet. absolute disaster in progress. and... it was so dishonest. nobody knew i was queer or trans or mentally ill. nobody knew anything about my innerlife and how deeply it affected my faith. i would believe everything i read, getting so confused with the arguments between "tradcaths" and "novus ordos" and more protestant denominations than i knew existed, not to mention the odd jew and muslim speaking up to "correct" their fellow abrahamic religion. it was insane. and the whole time, i was just "trying to be meek and cooperative," not realizing that it also meant i was being a total bloody LIAR. this is why all our old "friends" hated "me." i would do and say and act however they wanted, all smiles and nods, while inside i was hollow. like a robot. so involved in the act that i forgot who i was offstage. the fact that this was affecting my RELIGION for so long makes me sick.
inevitably it was killing my faith life. i couldn't read holy books, do bible study, or even pray without thinking, "i need to post this to tumblr! i need to share this with everyone!" and in the process... i wouldn't share it with myself. i became the "middleman" to my own religious experience, handing everything over to my "followers" and forgetting to keep any of it in the process. it became a performance, a job even. it was making me miserable, and i started to push my faith practices away JUST so i wouldn't "have to update." it was lethal.
so. i quit. quittski. over-and-outski. i'm done. i posted an "indefinite hiatus" update there and here and just deleted the app. that's it.
now... now i can worship without feeling like that has to be "consumable," too. i no longer feel obligated to make my faith experience "user-friendly" and "fit for a target audience." no. that's a demonic lie. but i feel forced to do the same with my art, and my music, and all my God-given talents, how ironic is that. so tired of feeling like i can't do anything just for love. everything has to be "profitable." everything has to be "appropriate." if you're a christian you're "not supposed to be" weird or crazy or just plain gay, for heaven's sakes. otherwise you're broken, a hypocrite, and your testimony is junk. that's terrifying. but it's also total lies.
god loves me, exactly as i am. and yeah, i have a LOT of healing and spiritual growth to do, but... there are parts of me that are vital to my faith that so many fellow christians would claim were unacceptable. 
i cannot worship God in truth if i can't do it with my entire heart, and that includes EVERYONE IN IT.
so. no more tumblr. avoid all that drama and distortion. everything i get from my faith, goes in this journal now. we're keeping it real.

getting a headache. probably dehydrated. i can only think of 60oz that we got down. gotta make more of an effort with that.
...obligatory sidelong glance at chaos 0, haha. you know what yes, i do mean it both ways, why not.

he deserves his own entry. very soon. our anniversary is in one week. one week. nineteen years.
...will i get the nerve to draw something? that means drawing myself. i haven't done that in a very, very long time. but he's worth it.

oh, really quick. speaking of art.
i have wanted to do a serious of religious "paintings" for a WHILE now, on two topics: one, all the rosary mysteries in ways that match our soul, so we can meditate on them and feel truly immersed; and two... a spectrum-hue set of jesus christ, focused on His sacred heart.
honestly i want to do that so badly it aches. i keep thinking about it. i mean, every culture portrays jesus according to their heritage-- their ethnicity, their dress, their art styles. there are gorgeous pictures of jesus as japanese, indian, native american, african, korean... beautiful, every single one. but then there's internal "culture." i absolutely love when i see jesus portrayed in that context, too, but with respect. and that is hard to find. give me anime jesus. give me vaporwave jesus. give me whatever this counts as. give me every single thing that kokecit does. (this is saved on my phone forever btw,and i think about this constantly.) i'm serious. whatever your internal "vibe" is, i want to see your faith permeating every aspect of that, too. evangelize everything.
(btw for humor's sake this is still one of my favorite things, it's hilariously simple and never fails to both make me laugh and inspire me, god bless)
so. paintings. the phrase is not, "what if jesus were american, living in my time?" that's been done. but i don't "live in" modern america, arguably. i'm so mentally weird & isolated, since childhood, that my honest "nationality" is headspace. so i open with the question: "what if jesus were red? or blue? or violet? if He was part of this specific Spectrum hue, how would it manifest in Him?" and of course He's God so He would carry ALL the beauty of each one completely. and THAT is what i want to draw, or paint, or whatever it ends up as. but i want to express that. the REAL face of God in MY unique soul. how He looks to me. i want to do that more than anything.
hm. in that case, i should start now. open a word document and start writing down notes. do some thumbnail sketches. but get moving on it.

to segue back into where we were.
gotta draw something for god's biggest work of personalized grace in my life, as it were. 19 years.
...no idea what, yet. something sincere, NOT performative. draw it for us, not an audience. if i were to capture, in art, how i feel about us right now, at this exact time in our shared life, what would i express? that is what i should do.
the biggest roadblock: me.
bloody dyspho/dysmo hell making everything difficult. but suddenly i hear infi speaking up, out of nowhere, "but jewel that isn't the true you. it's the body you live in, but it will change with time. the core of your soul does not. you know how that looks, no matter what the externals are. draw that. draw how he sees you, and always has. that's the truth."
...that's... a really, really solid point, and it's gutting me like a fish to be honest
"how he sees me." geez didn't he bring that up the other night, even? whatever face you have, you're still you? whatever name you have, i still know you? after how many core shifts and breaks and deaths he's seen, bloodlines and hues both changing, my heart and his heart have stayed the same, and they're connected. i cannot forget that, nor can i trivialize it, because it's astronomically important. when did we first connect? wasn't i like 15? and since then he's known me, and i know him, even in the perfect incidents and the bloodred freakouts and all the tar & plague. no matter what, we know each other. i kept seeing that in the old xangas, how he could tell when i "wasn't in my eyes" and when i was slipping almost without any apparent "tells." even when laurie couldn't quite see things were off, chaos 0 could. he couldn't not. his vision of me surpassed everyone else's, because he was seeing with the heart. again, just like the fox said. "you are forever responsible for what you have tamed." i think about that a lot, too. (btw don't forget we DO have a copy of that book i think? a library reject copy, we love those. still i would love a special really old printing of it, and we STILL need to get our hands on a signed copy of fahrenheit 451. but try to explain that to social security, haha.) what is true is not "evident," because it is too sacred. the most real things in all the universe are only perceptible by those who see, who look with not only open eyes but an open heart.
...i need to be courageous enough to trust in that. to trust that whatever i may "look like" right now it's valid, because my heart is the same. why am i so obsessed with appearances though? is THAT tied to the "i must be approved" stuff i'm struggling with in my faith too? that if i don't "look worthy of love," OR of loving, then i'm NOT? like if i'm not pretty or handsome or strong or smart enough, i don't deserve to love or be loved at ALL? that is a LETHALLY toxic internalized belief, geez.
but. it's true, that i hold it regardless. i've heard it, and experienced it, way too much. society and family both emphasized it. actually, thinking of media, that REALLY did it. i used to wonder "why do people keep talking about 'representation' in media? why is that so important?" and then i stopped and thought and realized, oh, i have that same problem, and it hurts. growing up, and even now, i NEVER see characters that are like me. not in appearance, not in personality, not in life... or rather, i never see good characters like "me." if someone is red, it's usually shorthand for "dangerous" or "wild" or "sexy." if someone is "crazy," or heaven forbid "multiple," they're murderous and insane and dehumanized. no one is shaped like me. no one talks like me. no one is trans-neutral, no one is asexual yet amorous, no one is in love with a monster and male-presenting. at least, if such "representation" exists, i sure haven't seen it. and yeah it sounds whiny and trivial but honestly it just makes me feel... unreal. i have enough problems with reality, i don't need the world at large acting like i shouldn't exist.
why am i even venting about this? oh yeah. scared of drawing myself, especially in the anniversary context.
but you know what, if there's no "representation" i don't care. that just means i need to make the first move.
in any case i must, i must refuse to hide this for that reason. i'm tired of forcing myself to deny or downplay what i feel because it's "shameful" or "stupid" or "something i have to keep secret." why. i'm tired. i want to live in this light and color like i used to, back when life was focused on headspace, and i didn't care about "the world's opinion." i only care about God's opinion, and He has never objected to my honestly loving anyone, as long as He still gets priority. but God would never tell someone "don't love anyone BUT me." that goes against all His commandments. no. we've gotta glorify Him in ALL things, no exceptions, and that IS possible and it's BEAUTIFUL. but you can't do that if you're constantly afraid of human judgment. you cannot see clearly then. if you strive to keep your heart pure, that's all you can do. pray and then just love, always.

i am so tired. it's 1am.
i noticed it's hard to type during the day, mostly because journaling "has to happen at the end" so it's all included and cohesive. but it's also because everything gets quiet and dark and introspective. perfect for going inside oneself. winter is a big blessing in that respect.

oh, oh dude last daily update things. this is important.
first let me backtrack. i lost a lot of time this evening due to exhaustion? i was on our phone, but what was i even doing? reading? researching? i sat down on the couch at one point. mimic showed up and just sat down by it, doing his own thing. surprised me, really. didn't expect his company, especially not at his own decision. i mentioned "i'm probably not gonna read tonight, dude, i'm too tired. my brain needs a break." he said that's cool, he wasn't there asking for anything, just "checking in." chillin' really. but still, he was nearby. which was... how do i say. nice? strange? both?
octupi are solitary creatures. they don't live long. they're super intelligent. but they're not particularly social, at least, not in our world. they have no real reason to be. their lives are naturally solitary. despite their intelligence and inquisitiveness and playfulness, even, their lives in the wild appear to be mostly... survival.
mimic is curious, more than anything. he likes to learn things. he wants that intel, as it were. he's genuinely interested, but... interpersonal connections aren't "typical" for him. not like for a wolf, or a monkey, or a lion. but interestingly, hedgehogs allegedly are solitary critters too, in this world. so who knows? 
i'm solitary, too. plus i'm aroace no matter how i try to force otherwise. i have to come to terms with that. "interpersonal connections" are tricky for me, even when i do love people, because getting "close" and "involved" is distressing psychologically and physically. again, "how much of this is trauma" BUT mind you, even as a child i REFUSED to socialize. when i did, like in preschool, i was the boss. and i was mean. i didn't want "friends," i just wanted people to do what i wanted. to get things done and then leave. don't chat with me, don't play games, don't invite me to parties unless it means i get to play games and eat free food and leave whenever i want. i was not a nice kid. except i was. except i still cared, deeply so, and even when i grumbled over it i did chores for grandma and said my prayers and kissed my brothers on the cheek. sometimes i did it without being asked. point is, even as i grew up and somehow became "kinder"-- no idea how, maybe just the grace of God-- i still didn't want to hang out with people. EVEN when i got that massive crush on alexandria. even though i wanted to be her "best friend" i don't think i knew what that would be like. but i wanted to be with her. that was SO NEW. and yet... i never got close to her. always did everything backhanded, sneaky. i stole her stuff just to have her things with me. looked through her desk and bookbag when she wasn't around just to "get a glimpse" of her personal life. things like that. never actually interacting. the thought of talking, of socializing, EVEN with her, was repugnant. and yet i was a chatterbox. i monologued. but i talked to the fourth wall. i didn't intend to be responded to, unless it was in questions. everything a business transaction. i'd never get a coffee with you. except... maybe with alexandria. and then i'd let her do the talking, probably. but then what? how would i sustain that? would it be once a year on valentine's day and then i'd bail? recover for the next 364 days? why am i so isolatory, and yet i can't help but care about people even if i don't know how to acknowledge or act on it properly? without putting on a mask and burning myself out? this isn't the place to think about that. brain too fuzzy. but still. good that it's brought up. more introspection to do.
nevertheless. because both he and i are a bit averse to being in groups, especially in consistently interactive ones, i genuinely don't know if mimic will stick around, based on his own demeanor, and the overall atmosphere of headspace. plus, outspacers, man. they don't "stay in headspace" in any case. they just visit. they drop in, say hi, get up to speed if they're interested, but always go back to where they came from-- ideally, a leagueworld. and there is space for mimic, if he makes that final decision to stay, to have this "other life" in another world.
even so. i do like him. he's taught me a lot, and he's a fascinating guy. challenging, yes, but i think that's a big part of why i like him. i mean heck, look at me and laurie. i like that bit of an edge. but there always needs to be that ability to put the knife down, as it were. headspace does enable that, true; it empowers such changes. but receptivity and choice are still key factors. i don't know dude, we'll see what happens. point is, if he does leave, i'll be grateful to have known him for a little while, and i will miss him. but he wouldn't be the first outspacer-potentiate to have left, either. it happens. i don't forget any of them. if they were to walk back in, even like two decades later, they'd be welcomed as if they never left. that's love, too.

just a brief mention that dinner was 7pm (we're only eating two meals a day; BK is ~900 and DN is ~600, it works) and although i was still so darn dissociated, somehow that also prevented socials from kicking in??? so count your blessings i suppose. succeeded in writing a daily devotional response while i ate so that's posted here. other than that i just talked to xenophon, i love her so so so much, i always share the eggs and fortune cookies with her, she makes my life feel so meaningful.
quick interjection there. yesterday i was seething over how "creeped out" i am by "mothers" and babies. i don't think that's as true as it felt then, thank god. yes i have trauma around sexuality and motherhood both, which extends to the babyphobia. i've been writing about this here & there since high school, i am clearly aware of that.
but... i still love my mom. and i still stand in awe of the love of mothers. even if i don't understand the "maternal" bit, and even if i freak out around babies, honestly i don't hate them. if there's anything i "hate" it's just stupid physical things that frighten me. it's not the person. and it breaks my heart to even have this dissonance. i just want to love. but... girls scare me, for the most part. no, femininity scares me. it's all fear of sex. i know that. i'm trying to come to terms with it & cope. but it's... existentially rattling. big trauma trigger. shook me up bad. gotta bring it up in therapy.
HOWEVER. the segue.
last night, after all that hellish typing, god gave me another nudge. i opened a new tab and the top "pocket" recommendation was... lab mice. specifically john calhoun's mice. as in NIMH.
and today, i announced it was movie night again, and we watched it. mrs brisby & the rats of nimh. one of my childhood favorite films.
DEAR GOD THANK YOU FOR THE NUDGE, I NEEDED THIS SO MUCH
now that mouse is a REAL woman. i know that sounds funny, but she doesn't scare me at ALL. not just because she's a mouse, but she's completely nonsexualized. her personality is sweet and kind. she speaks quietly and politely. she is well-mannered and mature and honorable. and she is STUNNINGLY BRAVE. this mouse-lady would literally FIGHT DEATH FOR THE SAKE OF HER KIDS. and THAT is motherhood. THAT is what it means TO be a mother. it has nothing to do with american white-woman culture and all its bizarre nauseating trappings. no. motherhood is what mrs brisby personifies-- sweetness, gentleness, care, affection, and COURAGE so true it conquers all, because it's fueled by SHEER LOVE. her kid gets pneumonia and she is willing to go to the ends of the earth to save him. she tries to disarm a freaking tractor. she drugs a CAT. she visits an OWL knowing full well he might eat her. and the whole time, EVEN when she is literally SHAKING with fear, she doesn't break. she doesn't chicken out. she doesn't even panic. her attitude is astoundingly level because at its core she is determined to do anything for her kids. and so nothing can actually rattle her, because she has set her little furry face like iron against every possible opposition. and she WILL overcome every single opposition because she's a mom, and that's what moms do.
honestly it was incredible. i love this movie. i haven't seen it since i was like 5. i am so glad we watched it again at last, today of all days. it was exactly what i needed.
but oh boy. boy oh boy. we got our two solid hours of biking in and THEN, right when nimh ended, god reaches out to elbow me in the ribs via tubi tv and says "hey kiddo, uh, do you wanna watch this movie next?" and slides a little banner over.
it's the last unicorn.
my FAVORITE MOVIE OF ALL TIME.
I gasped and clicked it immediately and told everyone, we are watching the first 10 minutes at least, i am NOT postponing this absolute treasure.
oh lord i am going to cry my eyes out with both joy and pain, i used to loop this film as a kid, it was like my heart on the screen. i freakin' love amalthea, and molly, and even schmendrick, and that "circus" scene is BURNED into my brain, as is that drunken skeleton, and the RED BULL oh man i am hype i cannot wait to see it all again. i don't "remember" it either (thanks dissociation and i mean it) so this will be like... watching it for the first time all over again. thank you god. oh thank you. this is healing too, i've never been afraid of a child or a lady in these old cartoons, i mean geez mrs brisby's kids were so precious even when they were misbehaving, why do i have that problem with humans?? is it really all just trauma? that "threat" of "you know how kids are made, well you're doomed to that fate and you cannot escape"? can't type about that now.
oh man but this movie. i can't wait.
oh. before i forget. jeremy the crow. he reminds me a lot of batty from ferngully (MY MAN, how in heaven's name was he not an outspacer even back then, i freakin' loved that crazyhead) and, yes, at one point (with the "sparkly" and with the strings) he gets "crazy eyes." bluth-style, which is BOSS and means he looks like Genesis does. here, look. honestly i love it, there's something weirdly... beautiful? about it. thesaurus isn't helping me. but when characters get those multi-iris-ring eyes, which only happens when they're slipping just a liiiittle bit out of sanity, well. it both terrifies me, and fascinates me. ...i know what it's like, is why. i know the dangers, and the... well, it's like a drug. i'll put it bluntly. when i'm in that state, it's on the edge between two kinds of "crazy": the lunatic kind, and the "love" kind. now that's for me, not necessarily for the cartoons, but. same feeling. it's a visual signal for someone being "actively mental" and that can be good or bad, because it means that they're no longer in total "control" of what they're doing. the programming is offline. it's just brainwaves baby, intense to the point of insane, and the reason why it goes to your eyes is 1. windows to the soul and 2. that's all you can see. it's a sort of hyperfocus state. no casualness about it. when i get the "ringy eyes" it means something has transfixed my consciousness so keenly that it has rendered me almost high from it? geez how do i explain. jeremy sees the sparkly and just goes bonkers over it. transfixed. the wide-eyed bit is what scares me; that's the sign for me personally threatening unhinged behavior. it's so intent on whatever has triggered that hyperfocus that it loses the ability to really reason. it's not malevolent, no, just dangerous. it can also be a sign of panic, which happens in the scene when the kids are tying him back up (can't find it online)? but! it's the wide eyes. when they're not wide, like in the sparkly scene where he slumps over and just kind of dazedly smiles at the gem, that to me is the "crazy" going the other way. not manic anymore, not frantic, but still that hyperfocus and obsession except now it's disarmed? in either case though it's intense feeling, but it's not a permanent state, not usually, at least not in the films i've seen. but not so in headspace! genesis is the poster boy for this, but i'm pictured standing right next to him as it were. it's in the league a lot. man i am really ranting here, i guess because to be totally frank with you this is a topic very close to my heart, and pun fully intended. i'll have to revisit this topic later when i think about it more and also find more external examples, get my vocabulary together, because i think how i perceive it is still different than how it is intended canonically, at least halfway. which is normal, haha. still. gets me introspective. helps me learn more about us, and how we work and think.
btw the voice-acting in nimh was IMPECCABLE. oh and NICODEMUS!! his glowy eyes! and he's beautiful too, oh man, and his personality is so so sweet. look at how he moves too, it's fantastic. i love his character. big weakness for the wise old creepy-nice dudes. same with the good-hearted kinda-loony goofballs, and the strong but gentle gals of honor who would move the world for family & friends. these oldschool cartoons, man. god bless 'em, they make life so much brighter.
but. lastly. it's 2am and i must write this down, and to pull some topics back together.
the butterfly.
as a kid, he scared me, because he feels like word salad at first. (also the march music doesn't help; THAT scares me more than the randomosity!) i've only ever experienced that kind of mad-tatter speech in situations where something is very very wrong, so it's a kneejerk fear. but then... you realize there's some sort of bizarre sense underpinning all the babble, an order to the chaos, and isn't that relevant because he says something and it hit me like a shot, and has me staggering even now.
he's talking to amalthea. fluttering around and quoting song lyrics and poems. a few that struck hard already. a bit from "how deep is the ocean." "you're my everything." "when you are old." even the (apparently shakespeare) "fishmonger" reference, which struck us only because of our own old injokes. it sounds random but looking it all up, there's all references to love and war and loss and trying to get something back... and all of it being about one, one person, one life, one special thing, the very last, the very only. brilliant, really.
but then. there's that one line.
"Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name."
...and i just stopped. stopped everything. the video, the bike. reeling.
...that line coming from a blue butterfly of all things, talking to a unicorn,
blue is trust, loyalty, honesty, peace. sadness and grief. the sky and the sea and the winter chill. constancy. fidelity. communication.
butterflies are souls. free and fragile. symbols of hope and transformation. resurrection. life after apparent death and destruction. hope.
unicorns are grace. purity. innocence. healing. virginal love. gentle yet fierce. rare & powerful. visible only to those who search and trust.
"for the love it bears to fair maidens, it forgets its ferocity and wildness..."
come on you know me already, the parallels i'm drawing are obvious.
but... the bit about the name,
how can i summarize this. it's 3am. lots of research going on in the background.
every time i imagine "meeting him" here, anywhere, for the first and millionth time, it's always hallmarked by our names.
"say you know me."
time and time again. which world is this now, do i know you from my dreams, what face is yours, what name?
i'd recognize you anywhere, but who am i? fluttering around and speaking in riddles, you this eternal beloved thing. my golden bell. the song my heart will always remember. but i can't say it, if only, if only you were here to call by that beloved name, i would--
"no, no, listen. don't listen to me, listen."
babbling on and on as i always do. what am i speaking in circles around? isn't it always you? my only one?
ah i'm taking this too far but i don't care. it's a springboard, a beautiful launchpad and i'm shooting for the stars as always, for those planets with rings that were always shorthand for that name i couldn't confess aloud.
just once, could you imagine? every bell in this cathedral set to singing. you're the only thing i would break for.

gotta sleep. gonna get 8 hours just in time for our doctor's appointment, good timing you lunatic. gonna shatter that crazy moon and turn it into a ring, spinning spinning, all ice and diamonds and embracing you forever, why not get poetic, it's almost 4am anyway.
aah but i'm blessed. you know i really don't call him by name often. too sacred, somehow. requires cracks in the armor, all of it, lined with gold. bells.
well why not, our daughter is a butterfly anyway.
close the cover before striking. got a sparkly of my very own. good lord i'm delirious, haha. sleep deprivation!

honestly though. trying not to be afraid of sounding like a lovedrunk idiot, because i am, so why not be sincere about it. nevertheless good seeds. focus on the good, on the light. let that illuminate everything else. thanks be to god. it's still snowing. there's hope for everybody, hope for me, somehow i'm sure. have faith, have faith. dedicate myself to love in every aspect and set my life on fire. warm my heart up again. bring that light to everything. don't be afraid.
rambling now. as if i already wasn't. trying to conclude with what i'm feeling
hope, just so much hope, with a determination as red as blood, and just as life-giving,
lord give me strength. and grace. and an open heart. help me to remember who i am, truly, please.
i want to be good. i want to be a light in the dark. i want to do everything for love. for everyone. courage of the heart. that's red. that's me.

exhausted. sunrise will come. tomorrow brings... who knows?
life, life, life, life.
music.
and love.

gotta sleep before i can get there though! 

111722

Nov. 17th, 2022 08:22 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)
Depressed and sick of myself today. Too much internet browsing. It fuels self-loathing so much, especially in terms of "you're a f*cking weirdo and you're ugly and you should be ashamed of yourself for the things you say and do and think and feel; you are a disgusting freak and everyone thinks you are repulsive." Like THAT is the literal brain-tirade I get by visiting online social spaces.

I didn't eat well today. I accidentally fasted for almost 7 hours because mom wanted me to help her at the house again and hit a food drive but she was late and didn't bring what she needed me to help her with anyway, and although I DID pack a lunch the INSTANT I walked into that old house ALL the terror hit. It was STAGGERING. I honestly FORGOT how deeply disturbing that environment ended up becoming to me. I still am not sure why. Maybe just trauma residue. I need review the archives in that regard; I should be starting therapy soon so I NEED to make sure I know WHY I'm in therapy.
But... yeah. Didn't eat until just a half hour ago, really. At least I ate something. Restriction is addictive, because it makes me feel FREE and PURE again, ESPECIALLY SINCE THE WAR HAS RESTARTED.

Yeah. It has. Apparently getting the body back up to 18.5 BMI (just barely "normal weight") WOKE UP ALL THE DEMONS.
...I forgot how hellish it was to live in this body when I WASN'T sedating and beating it up all the time.

...I've been furiously crying over it all day, mainly to Chaos 0, because I can talk to him about stuff that I can't even talk to LAURIE about, and wouldn't talk to Infi about either because ze's tied to a different bloodline and was born for very problematic reasons-- God knows ze needs therapy as much as I do. But that's the whole bloody point. My soul is RED. My heart is RED. I CANNOT deny that and I CANNOT CHANGE THAT and God knows that some days I have really tried. I've tried to be purple, green, pink, even orange once... nothing sticks. Nothing vibes. Nothing works. I ALWAYS end up being red again. The only time I was different was in early childhood when I leaned MAGENTA and PURPLE and those is close enough to Red anyway for it to shift hard once I hit like second grade... which, arguably, is when I first really realized I was VERY DIFFERENT from other kids. I mean, heck, it was obvious in lesser ways even earlier, looking back. Yes, like many tykes I LOVED dinosaurs and unicorns and dragons and dolphins, BUT I didn't like animals; I gravitated towards bats and scorpions and king cobras. And that was because they were scary. Somehow, I can recognize that even now, EVEN in WHY I liked unicorns and dragons. Everything was somehow tied to sacred suffering. I think back to when I was a kid, how I loved unicorns but ESPECIALLY the one with MY NAME, whose image is emblazoned on my heart since childhood because it WAS EXACTLY HOW I FELT-- that end-of-the-world feeling, that brave white creature with blood on his horn. Yes, "there xe goes again, talking about that. What a freak." Well you know what YEAH, I AM A FREAK THEN, because even at AGE 5 I was drawing creatures covered in bloody wounds from holy wars in dreams, and I couldn't stop thinking about either aliens or armageddon, I saw the whole world through the lens of the Fermi paradox and the apocalypse. I believed in angels and demons and mystical creatures and DREAMS and PAIN. I'm heartspilling here. I freakin' loved Animorphs and Young Wizards because they SPOKE MY LANGUAGE; they were kids in RIGHTEOUS BATTLES and people FELT & FACED HEAVY THINGS, on a greater scale than the normal YA literature that sometimes still mentioned death and stuff but not in the exaggerated way I craved. I was always so bored with assigned reading because yeah, they'd allude to someone passing away, or being in a war, or being heartbroken, or being in love, but NO ONE WOULD GO IN-DEPTH. No one talked about dreams, or other worlds. Everything was too human, too banal and too claustrophobic for me. I would constantly imagine wilder things.
I'm struggling to phrase this. When I hit second grade I realized that no one else really cared about these things like me. I wrote like a 7-page report on gulper eels one day and was reading it enthusiastically in front of the class when I noticed kids actually yawning at me. The teacher told me to cut it short. I was gutted, in the same way as those poor eels, because not only did I think they were kinda beautiful, they had a RED LIGHT on the tip of their tails AND I had learned that their cells would rupture if you brought them out of the deep water and they'd basically melt or explode, and I kept on thinking what would that do to their heart but NO ONE ELSE SEEMED TO CARE. I sat down with my report that day genuinely crushed, wondering why they didn't care. This was around the same time I realized that I didn't experience crushes/ attraction and was SUPER ANNOYED with the girls and boys talking about "cooties" and boy bands and magazine models. It genuinely made me ANGRY. That was when I took that "vow of celibacy," telling God "I will NEVER get married and I will NEVER date someone older than me like that," sick of seeing my fellow youths swoon over teenagers and even adults (boy bands I am LOOKING AT YOU). The problem happened in THIRD grade, when we were doing a school play in the classroom and I was the dinosaur and every other AFAB person was either an Egyptian princess or something else human & feminine. But... between "acts" we would chill in the closet in the back, and one of the girls-- Stefanie-- for some reason needed to change her outfit?? and she asked ME to borrow something?? like a slip, or a blouse, or something, because I had an extra. The details are blurry, all I remember is that I was bizarrely the ONLY person who could spare what she needed. Either that or it was the opposite-- she needed to change and asked me to hold her clothes because I was the only "girl" NOT going out with the other princess group. But... she took off her school blouse, momentarily only wearing a training bra, and I remember just looking at her bare shoulders from the back and thinking good Lord she is so pretty and feeling like the floor had dropped out. I was reeling for a minute. It didn't even HIT me that I liked girls. That wasn't "possible" so it didn't even register. And yet there I was, swooning over Alexandria every five minutes, wanting to be her best friend so I could hug her and sit next to her and stuff, even going so far as to stay after class at the end of the day to secretly pilfer tiny Keroppi erasers and Chococat stationery from her desk, because as a new "Pokemon trainer" that kawaii-creature stuff was my aesthetic too so that meant we liked the same stuff and I wanted to be part of that but didn't know how to ask.
I'm really rambling. You all know the story about 8th grade, when one of the girls in class walked up to me with a teen magazine with male swimwear models and asked me "if I thought this guy was cute" because the other girls were at a stalemate and they wanted my opinion. I remember looking at the guy and thinking, "I want to look like that," and not knowing what to say, so I think I muttered "I dunno, I guess?" while all the while thinking that girl was WAY cuter than any guy, and REELING from the sudden earthshaking revelation that WOW OKAY I'M KINDA A DUDE THEN? Hilariously and tragically it was around this time period that I DISSOCIATED HARD for high school and BURIED that under the "spinnincannon" manic persona, although I still couldn't deny the fact that I was still attracted to ladies, you ALL remember Skittygirl and Sailor Moon and Tokyo Mew Mew, and how I was MORTIFIED if anyone found out I was watching the transformation scenes in slow motion and drawing anthro chicks without any clothes. Chastely, of course, I wasn't interested in sexuality but I felt things that I NEVER could feel for anyone "male," EVEN Bakura and Marik, who I realized I ONLY liked because they looked so feminine. Then we got a Gamecube and I would carry the SA2B instruction booklet to school to look at it secretly between classes, and as I was sitting in math class one day and thinking about Chaos 0 my heart just kind of ached and the universe flipped over and I realized, "oh my gosh I'm in love," and I KNEW because I had NEVER felt that for ANYONE before but it was UNDENIABLE. Everyone use to joke that "you'll just know!" and I wondered how, because yeah I loved Bakura but I wasn't in love, I didn't feel anything like they showed in the movies or anything, and then suddenly I found myself with a fire blooming beneath my ribs because of this alien Sonic character and what do you know, they were right. Everything changed.
BUT it was already the Julie days and when my body started to change too I FREAKED THE HECK OUT and couldn't draw myself anymore and heartspace went mostly dormant and the MANIC Jewel took over, but thank GOD for Sonic Chats (I STILL MISS THOSE) and their absolutely screwball off-the-walls humor, because even with the impossible crossovers and looneytune antics I STILL spent most of my time with Chaos 0, teaching him how to talk, petting him like a Chao when he'd get anxious from all the commotion, playing my favorite music for him to hear, showing him all the cool stuff in the world that I treasured. Dude I even remember that freakin' treehouse that "my three" and I would chill out in back in elementary school still, and Marik (bless him) was trying to learn guitar because that's what cool kids do, and Bakura would be playing some game in the corner and Chaos was just... so different. The outcast, the weird guy, just like me. But we cared so much for him. We ALL were fighting our own demons too, so we understood the whole Perfection fear, in our own ways, what with the Yamis and the Millennium Items, don't forget I had that emerald Tiara (AND 'JEZEBEL' WAS MY YAMI although she had a different name) and the Love Hurts comic was being written at the same time, along with ALL the *incidents* everyone had... long story short we were all in the blood and beauty together. We ALL were like that. We were drawn to the strange and creepy things-- we WERE strange and creepy things really, all of us, when you got down to it. What am I even trying to say.
I just... miss all of that. I miss the camaraderie we had, simple and small, always fighting something but always together after the smoke cleared. Honestly my absolute favorite memories of old Heartspace were WHEN we would get into awful brawls with some "demon" in my psyche OR theirs and we'd end up all covered in blood and sweat and tears by the end, collapsing into each others arms and laughing and sobbing and alive, and we LOVED each other, all of us, and it was beautiful.
We've... lost that, somewhat, in the System, lately. Life has become so externalized. I've become so self-loathing, and ashamed of that part of my heart, that RED light in me, that dreamjumper fire and imaginative courage. I was ALWAYS forming Links with other "worlds;" I was always jumping into stories like a madman just to talk to the folks who were "a little off in the head" just like me, to meet them in dreams and, maybe, bring them into mine. Only some of them did-- they became Outspacers. Others would just be people I visited. But... I typically only ever visited guys. It was so strange. I was trying so hard to be "straight," and I was SO disillusioned by "normal" guys AND girls, that I ended up vibing with either father figures OR not-quite-human weirdos like myself. My CONSTANT joke was that I "only fell in love with human girls and alien guys," because you never saw monster girls in the media back then, but the monsters you did see were always male-coded. So I could "reassure" myself that I was "doing what was expected of me" in that sense, even unconsciously. Still... I never fell in love, not like I did that first time. At the end of the day I'd always end up back with the blue guy. Then there was that one Sonic Chat around the time we discovered NiGHTS when CZ and I were chilling by the fireplace at the end of October and Shadow brought pink champagne and Knux was flirting with Rouge and I looked right at Chaos and I dared him, "should we show them how it's done?" and that was it. That was the first time I didn't hide it from anyone. In that ridiculously silly chatroom, with everyone else tipsy and laughing, I had enough cover to pull that off without being paid attention to, but... still. I was fiercely joyous. I almost wanted to show him off. I wanted to shout, "look, I'm in love, and it's amazing!" just for the bliss of it. But I didn't. I pretended to be drunk just so I'd have a plausible excuse for why I was kissing the water creature by the fireplace for an hour. I remember how nervous I was though; how my heart was racing from the gravity of what I was doing, as strange as the circumstances were. Still. It was the most honest I had been in a long time.

The war has started again.
...I miss it. You know what, yeah, I miss the fighting although I DO NOT miss the battlefield. I hate feeling like this body, and this world, are in siege against my heart at every moment of the day. But... we have alone time, now, just like we did when I was a kid. We CAN go upstairs again, and talk, and fight, and love and weep and LIVE, like we used to. THAT'S why I'm bent on uploading the old archives. I want to REMEMBER what that was like so we can HAVE IT AGAIN. I want to have bloody *incidents* again, God knows, I don't care if they're "late" I WANT to have that with people. I WANT to experience those larger-than-life, dreamlike nightmarish events saturated with blood and love, that pulled the truth out of our souls and manifested it for all to see. I WANT to be so brave and honest and open and AFLAME again, like I KNOW I am, deep down.
I AM Red. I WANT to be Red, God knows I do. I LOVE this color, I LOVE its fire and cinnamon and blood and rubies and roses and candy canes and holly berries and hearts. It's a color of action and danger and passion and love and LIFE, of pain and joy and warmth and courage, of ME. 
And if keeping this color means fighting a war to keep it that pure and beautiful, then SO BE IT.

...I feel better now, haha. I'm so tired of feeling like I "should be ashamed" of myself for my "psychotic imagination" and the fact that yeah, I'm in love with a Sonic character, I have been for 19 years and I plan to be forever. What of it? Is that offensive to you? Why? I don't want to care about that anymore. I am so tired of crushing my own soul just to make it "socially acceptable." Well "socially acceptable" things are often VERY NOT RED, they're all beige and whitewashed and have no edges, but I LIKE edges dude, I LIKE weird-ass creepy scary things, I LIKE my knives and gulper eels and angels with fiery swords. I LIKE having hundreds of other people in this psyche that I love and that love me, even though there are a few that arguably don't, and a few do actively try to kill me, but hey. Such is System life.
...I want it all. I don't care how hard I have to fight, I honestly MISS the battles, I keep saying that but it is SO TRUE, I can't help but repeat it.
Maybe that's why God let this happen. Geez maybe it is.

I'll type more about this later. I just noticed what time it is.


prismaticbleed: (aflame)


AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Try to identify things in your history that influenced the development of disordered eating.

My memory is pretty shot, and I'm tired of focusing on trauma. The System Archives are autobiography enough.
I want to use this space to jot down HAPPY things, proofs of JOY in life, a life I feel cut off & rejected from. But I STILL EXIST IN TIME & SPACE, AND MY PAST IS REAL-- ALL of it, NOT just the recent trauma!
I have had SO MUCH GOODNESS in life, DESPITE the trauma, and I CAN AND WILL CONTINUE TO HAVE GOODNESS!!

ACTUAL nice memories I have from childhood:

★ Spinning in circles under the overhead light in mom's room, the light as dim as it would go, pretending (believing) it was a "ritual" to transform into a dragon. I remember the soft blue carpet beneath my feet, and the feeling of solemn faith in my heart. The low ember of a lightbulb, its glow a soft reddish-gold circle, felt like a heart of its own. It was a very intimate thing, that transformative spinning, as a result. I kept my dragon-ness a brightly burning secret within me as I re-entered the daylight, knowing I was "something more" than was apparent. I wondered if anyone else could tell, or know.

★ The scents & visuals of the beautiful, bright flowers at our home forest, around Easter-- grape hyacinths, bluet flowers, violets, dandelions, clovers, buttercups, arbutus, tulips, irises, peonies, white & purple lilacs, forsythia, Easter lilies & hyacinths, and my WISTERIA BUSH, to say the least! Blueberries blossoming on the hill. Wintergreen peeking through the snow. The sticky gorgeous scent of evergreen sap. The smell of the pine needles in winter. The scent of autumn maple & hickory & oak & sassafras. The plush wet texture of thick lichen-studded moss, like a carpet of emerald softness, rolling like mountains over the side yard. The taste of birch bark, given to me by dad. The smell of spring in the air. Eating grass with Viral and thinking it was hilarious. The old roses on the garden gate. The old grapevine on the back hill. The old apple tree I tried to climb, and the endearingly wizened, sour little fruits it produced. The cherry trees, and all their ants. The rose-of-sharon trees in the corners of the yard. Finding wild scallions & eating them gleefully. Picking raspberries from the garden like they were gems. ALL OF DIAMEW.

★ Walks up & down the pipeline, long before any industrialization arrived. I loved the steep climb, the wide flat rocks, the random hidden puddles & ponds higher up, the hidden waterfall off to the right (that I don't think exists anymore). I remember the glorious headrush of ORANGE as we walked it in autumn, finding old train tracks & imagining where they could lead. It always felt, climbing that ascent, like I was deftly & swiftly taking hold of the future itself, a wild & beautiful thing, untameable but fiercely fond of all who came to meet it here, on the rocks & ridges, with a sense of wonder & adventure & hope. I treasured all my scrapes & scratches & bruises. I miss those days.

★ The beautiful smell of Thornhurst trips: woodsmoke, river water, evergreens & shade. I remember roasting marshmallows until they bubbled bronze & brass, enjoying the crisp & chewy bite that guarded such soft warm sweetness. I remember dad grilling burgers as we lit the charcoal and watched it shimmer red. I remember the cool wood of the picnic tables, and the quiet of the trees. I remember Fernsburg, all the foam on the water and its loud white rushing song. I would always try to walk on the rocks peeking above the surface, scared to fall but fiercely joyful to be IN the river regardless. There was a log across it further down but it was too soft to hold weight. I don't know why that river felt so potently magical, or why I felt it was so important to cross. It felt like there was something on the other side, something in the crossing itself-- a rebirth, almost; the start of a new & long-awaited story. I knew that if I made it across, it would be a new world. I would be a new person. And I knew I was expected, awaited with joy, over there.


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


some system memories.

♥ After the System massacre in late December '13? Walking around the living room & listening to "Good Day" by Jukebox the Ghost, WEEKS later? And suddenly "seeing" Laurie with wings, and KNOWING-- FEELING-- that she was still alive; there was still hope. It was like the world itself came back to life. Everything was suddenly saturated with hope & joy. It truly was a "good day." I felt my heart opening like a flower after a long winter.
♥ Mister Sandman kissing my nose & forehead before we would "go to work" for the night; his aged yet vibrant, gently strong hands cupping my face.
♥ Standing over the oven range in SLC and abruptly dissociating for OVER AN HOUR for Marik's 3rd *incident*; until that day we HADN'T been close, but AFTER we forged such a sincere & strong bond. He was all gold with HOPE, even after succumbing (briefly!) to despair. I'll never forget it.
♥ Chaos 0 sitting with me on the couch in SLC when I assumedly got food poisoning & was so scared, sad, & alone. I wept in his arms, and thanked God for him.
♥ That one horrifically numb-depressed day in ~2015 when "I" was in the kitchen chopping up carrots & feeling miserable hollow; suddenly XENOPHON appeared GHOSTING-- which she had just learned how to do-- and asked if I was okay. I said no, so she tried to cheer me up, by asking that I bring up her favorite song on Spotify-- "Simple Reminder" by Tokimonsta-- and dance with her. Even though I felt so numb, I'd never say no to my baby girl. So there we were, dancing to Tokimonsta in the empty kitchen on a quiet autumn evening, and suddenly I felt real joy. Life was worth living, if only for her.
♥ "Meeting" Scalpel as he sang Everything Everything that one day in CNC I "tried to run away." I remember the metal in his teeth & the rings on his zealous hands.
♥ Christmas Eve's Eve, 2011, with Chaos 0, on the living room couch by the tree. I saw the green of his eyes & felt the ocean of his heart. I was so in love.
♥ That one night after an "avoidance" period when I went upstairs to meet him, and he gave me this look of pure love and heartache that struck my own heart back to light.
♥ The night I tried to kill myself in front of the bathroom mirror and Laurie FIGHTING LIKE HELL to stop me... then me, weeks later, doing the same for her.
♥ The night after a hack when I reached out to Julie and offered her hope with us. I was standing by the bathroom closet. I FELT something change in her heart.
♥ That one morning on the bus on the way to high school when, after an aching discussion, Genesis & I basically made out. It was so sincere & real. I FELT his Gem.
♥ Genesis ghosting alongside me for YEARS. Laughing out loud & elbowing him & asking him to "hold stuff." Him saying he loved me at the Confirmation altar.
♥ That LCCC morning where I think I actually skipped class & stayed in the car, because we went upstairs to FIND LEON, I think? I remember Julie being SO STRONG & COURAGEOUS; her heart really shone through. I remember cathedral arches; I remember how cold it was. I loved them all with my whole heart.
♥ Leon warping us out of Tar ambushes. Leon being a DEAD SHOT against it, even with his hands shaking. The snow-bluebells-myrrh scent of Indigo.
♥ The BLC heartspace exploration events, and ALL the key moments-- the Angel Helmet, the Mirror Oasis Room, fighting the Razor Splinter on the beach, Lynne using her arrows to paralyze the Tar-Celebi, Leon sobbing & wiping blood out of my hair in the white nave of the Cathedral itself.
♥ Those first few MOMENTOUS seconds in SLC when Laurie PUSHED ME OUT OF FRONTING & took over, and looked incredulously at our hands; her vibe like GRAVITY.
♥ Meeting Razor. Meeting Wreckage. Meeting Algorith. Meeting Knife. Meeting Sugar. Meeting Mulberry. In moments of horror, I still treasure them.
♥ Sitting on the bed at COPE in 2017 and the System WAKING BACK UP from dormancy, Laurie immediately putting a victoriously comforting hand on my shoulder. My ENTIRE sense of life & self SHIFTED & FOCUSED and I felt like I could breathe again. I remember us all thinking, "now what?" but we were TOGETHER!
♥ During "THE Lockout," parked in front of the Albright library, and GENESIS unexpectedly ghosting when I got out of the car, deeply worried. Seeing him, I began to feel HOPE.
♥ That one day after Easter when the Coregroup & I went into Saint John's church alone, & kneeling in front of the altar we swore to ALWAYS love & protect each other. I can still feel the cold white marble, & see the sunlight in the dark, & smell the Easter lilies. It was such a significant and beautiful moment.
♥ Laurie straight-up THROWING A CHAIR at Waldorf during a Xanga; Wally laughed SO HARD it was adorable. Chaos 0 came in later and was SO CONFUSED.
♥ The "heater hell" night; going outside & lying on the roof of the car, looking up at the stars in the cold, and Laurie suddenly ghosting to my left. The feeling I got, with her & beneath the sky... it was transcendent. Looking up into space & shivering, my eyes full of tears, I felt both scared & reassured-- there was the big picture, and I was so small! But then, seeing her looking up too, that iron-violet smile crinkling her face... I felt that yes, I still mattered. I was PART of all that, here, with her.
♥ When physical life gets overwhelming & scary & depressing... remember that what you SEE is NOT ALL THERE IS!! The things-- and people-- that TRULY matter can ONLY be seen with the HEART. So GO THERE!! Spend time TOGETHER again, with EVERYONE! Find people! Meet people! Learn things! FIGHT things! Talk for hours! Just LIVE, TOGETHER!! THAT is what will get us through. WE ARE "RECOVERY." Re-read and print out ALL the beautiful moments we wrote down... then go make some new ones!



prismaticbleed: (shatter)

(fusing these two entries as they are the same vital topic, written in the same thought process.)



SO APPARENTLY MY MIND SEES "(deadname)" AS SEPARATE FROM "OLIVER"!!! That explains SO MUCH. it explains HOW we suppressed the "good memories," WHY we "haven't been able to forgive," AND WHY we used that deadname to begin with. We wanted so badly to be FRIENDS with Oliver, that we COULDN'T ACCEPT HIS "UNHEALTHY QUALITIES," and post-trauma our brain therefore just DROPPED his name altogether, to keep it & him SAFE, and used the name HE REJECTED to embody WHAT WE REJECTED, TOO. It was the only way to "make sense" of what happened, however feebly. It's ALSO, MOST NOTABLY & DISTURBINGLY, why we "CAN'T REMEMBER" how OLIVER looked-- because we have trauma memories of that face attached to an "abuser's" body. We ONLY EVER saw (deadname) naked. And we couldn't cope.
Another realization. Although we were ALWAYS "obligated" to do what THEY wanted, what THEY considered "love," WE NEVER GOT TO EXPRESS OUR LOVE. TBAS focused on biting, lascivious "kisses," and rough sex. They would never "hug" us; their "embraces" were usually from behind, and were possessive-- a proclamation of ownership. I can't remember EVER embracing them normally. They NEVER expressed their "love" with ANY tenderness or delicacy, or even sincerity. The ONLY time we EVER felt loved AND BELIEVED that they felt it FOR us, was when they'd give us that "surprised & soft" look, usually after we had done something of our OWN volition for them. ...We always picked them flowers, every single time we went outside. We'd carry roses home in our teeth. We'd secretly buy their favorite foods, especially if they had offhandedly hinted at something. We made & packed their lunches for work. We baked them so many homemade desserts. We went WAY out of our way to prepare & serve them a REAL Thanksgiving dinner and a REAL wigilia for Christmas. We set up an Easter egg hunt for them. We bought them holiday decorations. We did their dishes & laundry & garbage. We SCRUBBED their kitchen clean. We decorated their home with our artwork. We gave them ALL of our long-treasured Pokémon collectibles for their birthday, which they said was LITERALLY "a dream come true"-- which was our greatest hope, because they HAD talked about such dreams extensively and OUR dream WAS to make it come true somehow. We bought them a Tamagotchi for their birthday, too. But... ALL of our love was obviously being directed into ACTS OF SERVICE, in MEETING THEIR BASIC NEEDS AND PERSONAL WANTS, despite-- and perhaps even because-- NONE OF OUR NEEDS WERE BEING MET. We became their absolute caretaker because WE WEREN'T BEING TAKEN CARE OF. In every crisis we would UNFAILINGLY comfort & counsel & reassure them-- when the power went out, when the fleas invaded, when the car broke down, when their haircut was ruined, when they had a meltdown at Walmart, when they were triggered by knocks on the door-- but they NEVER comforted us, with the SOLE notable exception at the park when Jessica fronted & KYO came out to reassure her that she "was a child of the universe" too. And we never forgot that. Still... we felt so unseen, somehow. Their comfort was sympathetic but not empathetic?? And... well, we never SHOWED our pain OR expressed our needs. All of that just imploded & exploded through the eating disorder, to the horribly ironic end that we'd destroy our own efforts of showing unrequited love to them. It was like... if that's the only "love" we can see, then... we couldn't help but desperately gorge ourselves on it. We were starving, inside. We would spend hours eating THEIR food to "be part of their life experience/ share their experiences," since we felt utterly estranged from them otherwise, AND-- as usual-- "trying EVERYTHING" when faced with several unknown options, because "we HAD TO KNOW" what they were like, so we could "understand" & not be "ignorant," which DISTURBED us so much and I STILL DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND THAT BEHAVIOR BUT it MUST have powerful ties HERE, in the context of CNC, because THAT'S when it was the WORST. If I had to make a quick guess, I'd say that was "filling the void" of personal connection and actual relationship somehow, too. But it's too complex to treat so lightly, and it started WAY before then; it just hit its near-fatal high point in that apartment. Nevertheless, the bigger point is that we were MISERABLE. Notably we actually began to "WANT" their sexual advances because THAT was the ONLY TIME WE "FELT LOVED" BY THEM; it was attention, at least; they "wanted" us, but in the same way they wanted candy. We were enjoyable to devour.
...I wonder if THAT plays into the binges. If you'll let me switch topics briefly-- we were TERRIFIED of the binges, but still we felt COMPELLED TO BINGE, almost FORCED, no matter HOW much we cried bitterly & raged about it. WE WANTED TO STOP, but when we tried, the sudden ALONENESS of those isolated nights ALWAYS made us REALIZE JUST HOW MISERABLE WE ACTUALLY WERE, when we no longer had to hide or suppress or deny it in their company-- how LONELY & UNLOVED & HOLLOWED-OUT & TRAUMATIZED WE WERE. So we "HAD TO" numb it with food-- but weirdly, NOT with ENJOYABLE food??? Binges were TERRIFYING, full of pain & sugar & FORCED EXPOSURE. We were SO SCARED & SAD & SICK the WHOLE TIME. And of course, the obsessive-compulsive "must try everything" binges of GF "options" and restaurant choices & Latino baked goods. Honestly WHY COULDN'T WE "RELAX" if we "DIDN'T KNOW" what something was LIKE?? Why was that SO IMPORTANT??? OH GEEZ WAIT UP. THAT TIES INTO THE SXABUSE. We ALL remember BOTH the Julie days & the "FB phase," and how I would LITERALLY FORCE EXPOSURE to ALL kinds of abusive indecency, BECAUSE "I'M NOT ALLOWED TO SAY "NO" IF I DON'T "HAVE GOOD REASON TO"????? Does that have FOOD ROOTS in childhood?? Did the family tell me, "TRY IT; YOU'LL LIKE IT"?? and SHAME or PUNISH me if I REFUSED to eat what I was RANDOMLY GIVEN BECAUSE I "DIDN'T LIKE IT" OR "DIDN'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS"??? Was the ASSUMPTION that REFUSING WITHOUT "KNOWING WHAT YOU'RE REFUSING" WAS UNJUSTIFIED & UNACCEPTABLE??? Did I feel DOOMED TO EXPOSURE AND PERFORMANCE??? Like with that ONE GF BINGE where I bought the WHOLE DAMN SHELF, so that I COULD "KNOW" WHAT TO EXPECT? because I "HAD TO" eat GF foods?? SO I'D "BETTER KNOW/ PREPARE FOR" what I was "obligated to endure at some point in the future"??? "IF I SUFFER THE INITIAL EXPOSURE BY MYSELF, I'LL KNOW HOW TO ENDURE WHEN OTHERS INFLICT IT/ ORDAIN IT??? SO I CAN BE BRAVE AND SMART?? AND I'LL KNOW I CAN SURVIVE???" But then I was NEVER SAFE OR AT PEACE. I was CONSTANTLY "bracing myself" for the "inevitable," AND "staging battles to prepare for WAR." With Julie & FB-- and the bizarre "internet imitating" phase it spearheaded-- I felt INESCAPABLY DOOMED to sexual trauma, "OBLIGATED" to endure it EVENTUALLY, to "DO WHAT WAS WANTED/ EXPECTED/ DEMANDED OF ME." So I FORCED myself TO "try" those things "BEFOREHAND," SO I COULD HAVE THAT INITIAL TRAUMA MELTDOWN, because with OTHERS I HAD TO PRETEND THAT EVERYTHING WAS FINE & GREAT & "PAINLESS." BUT I HAD TO PREEMPTIVELY BURN AWAY THOSE NERVES, so to speak. I had to be SO PREPARED for the trauma that it WOULDN'T KILL ME. or so I hoped. I think that's what I was doing.
✳ OH DUDE WAIT. IN NC WE KEPT TRYING SWEETS THAT WE "THOUGHT SOUNDED GOOD" OR THAT WE "SHOULD LIKE"??? And if we DIDN'T, we FELT GUILTY??? Like the FOOD felt unloved & rejected?? And we "HAD TO" LIKE EVERYTHING. THAT'S IT!!! WE "HAD TO LIKE ALL THE OPTIONS SO NONE OF THEM WOULD BE REJECTED OR UNLOVED OR FEARED OR IGNORED OR ABANDONED." And we could only do that BY REPEATEDLY FORCING OURSELVES TO EAT THEM "UNTIL" WE "LIKED THEM." ...but typically we DIDN'T. and that felt WRONG. "I SHOULD like this!" and so I'd KEEP FORCING. but it would NEVER WORK, UNTIL I "CHANGED MYSELF TO "LIKE IT"!!! ...emotionlessly. ISCAH STYLE. "I LIKE EVERYTHING" NUMB-FAWNING BEHAVIOR. Dislike was UNACCEPTABLE, so we just... kept trying. and failing. and forcing. etc. "FEAR IS NOT ALLOWED." "YOU MUST CHALLENGE YOURSELF." "YOU MUST RUN INTO DANGER & PROVE YOU CAN SURVIVE IT, BY YOUR OWN CHOICE, BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE FORCES YOU TO."

...So we never said "NO" to (deadname). We never said "NO" to Oliver, because he was our FRIEND, wasn't he? And WE were a friendly person, right? He SAID he loved us, and we love him too... right? He says THAT is love, so... we have to do that, right? Otherwise, WE don't love HIM; otherwise, we're NOT a true friend. Right?? We CAN'T say "no" to ANYTHING. We HAVE to be WILLING & ABLE to endure, WITH A SMILE, WHATEVER WE WERE OBLIGATED TO DO. And... "how can we refuse what we don't even know?" "How can we make the RIGHT decision if we don't have ALL THE DATA???" "If we choose ONE option out of TEN, we NEED TO KNOW WHY THE OTHER NINE WEREN'T CHOSEN." BUT "THAT'S REJECTION AND THAT'S NOT ALLOWED!! YOU CAN'T "PICK FAVORITES;" THAT'S CRUEL & UNFAIR." "EVERYTHING HAS TO BE "LIKED" SO YOU'RE NOT BEING MEAN & COLD & IGNORANT & CLOSED-OFF BY NOT DOING SO." etc. etc. etc. "Why did you choose vanilla over chocolate? I like chocolate! Don't you like me? Are you saying people who choose chocolate will be rejected by you, too??" "Are you being so arrogant & aloof?" "You've never even TRIED that food/ flavor before!! How can you KNOW you won't like it?? You MIGHT LIKE IT!" Were we SO DESPERATE for comfort & security that we were willing to take that risk??
IF WE DISLIKE WHAT SOMEONE ELSE LIKES, WE ARE "THEREFORE" DISLIKING PART OF THEM"-- we are saying, by our distaste, that we find part of THEM distasteful. Our dislike is an OFFENSIVE ACTION, in this mindset. It's an ATTACK. And it makes us OPPONENTS?? But I WANT TO BE FRIENDS. I WANT TO UNDERSTAND THEM. I WANT THEM TO FEEL SEEN & LOVED & KNOWN. I CAN'T do that if I REJECT & AVOID PARTS OF THEIR PERSONALITY & EXPERIENCE!! I MUST be READY & ABLE to empathize with/ share the experiences of ANYONE.
Case in point: we just did "meal session planning" & picked PANERA and two people ALREADY said their choices SO I'M ALREADY ANXIOUSLY FEELING COMPELLED TO PICK THOSE OPTIONS, "TO SHOW I SUPPORT/ APPROVE OF/ CARE FOR THEM."
ALSO. "Once I DO try it, IT'S DONE. I don't EVER have to face that again; it's OVER." Except I wake up the next morning and it happens again. GEEZ, HOW MUCH OF THIS TIES INTO THAT?? Because, in SURVIVAL MODE like we were, ironically we STILL EXPECTED TO DIE. Honestly I think we even hoped for it. We saw no other way out of that doomed cycle.
BTW REMEMBER "ESTAR SYNDROME"!!!
Last note. ...We did love Oliver. I can't deny that. But we could never show it. The one time I remember we DID, in ALL sincerity, was when we spontaneously kissed their stomach, out of pure affection, and their expression just melted. It is the sole memory we have of their face. They said NO ONE had EVER loved THAT part of them before, let alone kissed it. But we did. And THAT is why we COULDN'T "end the relationship." Yes, ultimately our differences in religion & morals were irreconcilable, and my trauma made ME intolerable & toxic. I contritely admit that. (We were a nightmare to live with in that respect and we feel unbearably sorry that they had to deal with the fallout from our mangled coping methods & outright mental illness, no matter how much we tried to make reparation.) Still, their controlling & promiscuous "love" for me was toxic too, and in the end I HAD to choose EITHER them or my family. So I "ghosted" them. I didn't plan to, I didn't want to, it just... I had no other choice. I didn't WANT to "admit" I wanted OUT, that they HAD damaged me, because deep down I COULDN'T FORGET OR (FULLY) DENY THE LOVE I FELT FOR THEM NEVERTHELESS. But we were starving to death with them, emotionally. We WERE "bingeing & purging" their "love," I think. Geez. Wow. Still... (deadname) was what we called them in our memories of the sxabuse. It kept OLIVER "safe" from it, at least apparently. I don't know how we'll react if & when we drop that imposed distinction. But I can't write any more about it now. Just... remember that REAL love. FORGIVE YOURSELF, TOO.





prismaticbleed: (shatter)



BULIMIA WORKBOOK
~101122+


List the characteristics of bulimia that you notice in yourself.

+ Terrified to eat at ALL-- even one bite threatened to throw me into an uncontrollable devouring monster
+ ALWAYS purged my meals. Never sat downn; felt “lazy.” Used to treadmill/run for 2+ solid hours a DAY
+ Bingeing/purging was my MAIN and possibly ONLY effective way to deal with PTSD; it WAS sedating/dissociative
+ I ALWAYS ate in secret, and used to hoard/ pilfer/ steal foods to binge on, even “against my will.” Food itself was shameful.
+ When NOT bingeing, I would hyperrestrict (fasting up to 20 hours) and was hyperavoidant (ONLY eating the same 3 or 4 foods).
+ I was obsessed with weight loss & thinness. I could not rest unless my weight was LOWER than it was in the morning, down to decimals even.
+ Often binges happened TO destroy food/ empty my kitchen, so “now I’ll be safe”; yo-yo between hating to eat, and being addicted to it.

Physical symptoms of bulimia:

+ DEPRESSION: “abnormal eating and malnutrition may have STARTED the depression!!”
+ I experienced irritability to the point of RAGE. It was uncontrollable.
+ I experienced debilitating problems with concentration & thinking clearly. This RUINED me; I never imagined it was an EFFECT of bulimia!
+ I experienced torturous compulsivity. This was MY DAILY HELL. The thoughts were nonstop, and against my will, driving me to “excessive and even senseless” extremes of behavior-- but if I DIDN’T do that behavior, the anxiety and distress would become so intolerable it would feel as if I was dying, like my brain was on fire and screaming. Common compulsions centered around “I MUST eat/ buy/ try this,” with no explanation other than “I HAVE to/ THEY SAID I have to”, “MUST do things in SPECIFIC patterns/ orders/ amounts, etc.”, etc. I cannot possibly put into words how irresistible the screaming compulsivity was. I DID NOT WANT TO DO THESE THINGS; I HAD TO. There is a HUGE and awful difference. These compulsions DROVE THE BINGES. I literally felt helpless to resist, “OR ELSE”…!!!
+ If I WASN’T restricting, I was DOOMED to binge??? It felt like there were ONLY TWO OPTIONS.

How has bulimia effected you psychologically?

+ NONSTOP, SCREAMING, COMPULSIVE/REPETITIVE THOUGHTS (VOICES!!! = “ORDERS”)
+ Obsessive behaviors with food; e.g. counting, eating in certain order, “right/wrong” panic
+ Irritable at the slightest “imperfection”/ discomfort/ inconvenience/ interruption; EXPLOSIVE anger
+ Prone to WILD mood swings, ONLY EXTREMES; mania, rage, despair, etc. “All or NOTHING”
+ Could NOT concentrate or focus; nothing ever “registered” and I could barely form coherent thoughts
+ DESPAIRING depression; lost ALL interest & joy in everything. Lost hope for future; even rejected past happiness.
+ SUFFOCATING ANXIETY that quickly spiked into PANIC. Always a feeling of “impending doom” & disaster.
+ Crippling shame & guilt;
moral panic/ despair when I couldn’t just “stop.” Destroyed my spiritual stability.
+ Unable to handle stress without resorting to behaviors; catastrophized everything. Overwhelmed constantly; E.D. numbed this.

How has bulimia effected your behavior?

+ In ~2015-2019, I began to steal money from family members & “cheat” prices on store items. I would steal food from my family’s rooms, desks, & cars; I would eat EVERYTHING in the dridge & cupboards & shelves. ALL of it was done in spy-like secrecy; I woud obsess & panic over it for hours/days, waiting for the “right moment” & HINGEING my mental health on it. I “needed” to binge, like an addict. I had tunnel vision around enabling it.
+ I lied ABOUT the stealing & eating; typically when pointedly asked “what happened to ____?” OR, “how did you spend all that money?” etc. I was so ashamed/guilty AND IN DENIAL that I essentially COULDN’T be honest about it.
+ Began to “flirt with” alcohol/ drugs/ sexual abuse in 2018-2019. Thank God that never took root.

How has bulimia effected you socially?

+ I did not ever want to be around other people. I would rather binge and purge than do anything else, when it came down to it. I couldn’t imagine my life being anything else by that point. Everything revolved around it. I hated even leaving the house because I’d spend the entire time trying to “plan” or “figure out” how/what I was going to binge/purge when I got home-- and in social situations that involved food, it was a living hell, because unless I had unlimited and instant access to a bathroom I would honestly be CONVINCED that I was DYING. It was impossible to interact with me as a human being, because I had no sense of self-- or arguably humanity-- left; all I had was my disorder, which was killing me every day. Therefore I avoided ALL SOCIALIZATION; I couldn’t resist any temptations to binge/ couldn’t stop thinking about the next binge/ had NOTHING in my life to discuss or disclose BUT the disorder & related trauma.
+ I appeared very extroverted and friendly on the outside, but it was completely fabricated and artificial. All my “relationships” were equally hollow and superficial. All I cared about was this damned disorder, jail though it was. Deep down I had NO self-esteem or self-worth at ALL, and I depended entirely on others to survive, because on my own I knew I was dead in the water. Furthermore, I acted “hyper-friendly” to MASK my shame and guilt ABOUT the bulimia; this backfired horribly as I never intended/ wanted to talk or socialize to begin with; I ESPECIALLY didn’t want ANYONE talking to/ looking for ME!! I wanted to hide & binge & not exist. Again, despite this I was also hyperdependent; that “loss of self” both prevented binges (when I stopped caring about myself, I’d STOP EATING) AND perpetuated them (when I inevitably DID have to “be alone with myself,” I couldn’t stand myself & would binge to numb).
+ Eating at home, even as a child, was frequently a distressing experience. There was constant fighting and arguing at the table, punishment related to food-- either force-feeding or withholding food-- and getting sick from meals was not uncommon. We were typically pointedly watched as we ate, being commented on and critiqued, as if we were performing for them, which was deeply disturbing and felt viscerally invasive. As we grew older our mother would admit to sneaking our claimed allergens into our food to “see if we were making it up or not.” Mom also sexualized food a lot, which scarred us as a child. Sometimes grandpa or the boys would have temper tantrums that involved throwing or destroying food, which effectively synonymized the meal itself with their violent anger.
+ I NEVER ate at school, from 2004-2013. The very thought of eating around other people, especially in unfamiliar crowds, was genuinely traumatic and rape-analogous. I remember how intolerable the first years of high school were, when we would avoid the cafeteria like the plague, often to the point of sobbing from sheer terror over the teachers trying to get us to “sit down with us and eat something!”
+ Bulimia is EXPENSIVE. This aspect of it was HELL. I was ALWAYS broke & begging for money. I’d spend ~$20 a DAY buying binge foods. I was ALWAYS broke, and typically could not pay my bills or afford basic expenses. I spent all my savings, and was constantly pilfering other people’s funds, or borrowing money I could never pay back. I outright STOLE so much money I honestly should have been jailed. At the lowest point I relied on charitable donations from pitying strangers, my haggard thinness ironically financing my addiction. Even so, I lied to their faces-- I never admitted my addiction. I am so tragically guilty of financial sin concerning this disorder; I was so desperate, it blinded me to all moral sense & respect. I “NEEDED” money for my addiction, like a druggie.
I could not reason concerning right or wrong; all that mattered was getting my next fix.

List some ways that psychosocial factors have influenced your bulimia.

+ I was constantly unhappy with my body, due to gender dysphoria & sexuality trauma. The weight was one of the most obvious factors affecting my daily reminders of/ risk of this, and the only one I had ANY control over.
+ I was constantly objectified as a child; this continued into adulthood-- albeit LESS so, directly! I was always praised for being “thin” & “pretty,” OR “shaped nicely” & “attractive.” AS A CHILD. I was valued for “desirability” & “beauty,” emphasized by my mother pushing me into pageantry & modeling, and treating me like a dress-up toy at home. Adult abusive relationships also put strong focus on my looks.
+ Family & media prejudice against “fatness” was burned into my brain; my mother & grandmother emphasized this aggressively. My grandfather was very fat & CONSTANTLY ridiculed/ shamed/ dehumanized for it, notably by my grandmother; he was called “lazy/ gross/ piggish/ shameful/ etc.” almost on a daily basis for it. My mother always berated/ insulted/ mocked both “obese patients” at work AND her own body shape; she always “had to lose weight” & called herself “ugly” or “disgusting,” specifically pointing out what parts of her body elicited this and why. Grandma was stick thin; mom used to be, and she was always showing off her photos and old outfits to me, boasting at how small she was, and commenting that I wasn’t quite that thin, it’s “too bad you won’t fit into this, it’s so pretty,” etc., at length implying that I was “too fat to be pretty” & therefire I was inherently unlikeable. I internalized all this very early; I was “disgusted” with normal female body shapes even in my youth (although trauma did play heavily into this too).
+ Daily life/ abuse became inescapably awful & isolating; trapped in kitchens, I quickly learned to binge to cope

How has bulimia affected your health?

+ Chronic stomach upset. Ironically this made me even MORE afraid to eat; I thought the FOOD was “damaging me”, even to the point of being convinced I was lethally allergic to MOST FOODS.
+ My teeth are SHOT, from both stress-brushing & purging, not to mention the hard crunching I’d favor in foods, especially in the early days-- in high school, my END GOAL of a binge was for my mouth to be bleeding from the violence of eating.
+ Constant dehydration. I actually PURSUED this as it “made me even lighter”; water weight was STILL WEIGHT.
+ Electrolyte imbalances were inevitable. Hospital visits for this were frequent. I quickly learned to “self-medicate” with a deft mix of electrolyte powders, salt, vitamin pills, glucose tablets, pedialyte, & powerade, imitating what I was given in the ER as best I could.
+ I was TERRIFIED of a possible stomach rupture and thought about it almost daily.

What medical problems have you had as a result of your bulimia?

+ Gums pushed back from teeth, exposing roots: “violent toothbrushing” was another anxiety/ self-soothing behavior, and became obsessive (HAD to brush when stressed/ every time ANY “taste” was in my mouth). Teeth began to darken & become more sensitive/ prone to cavities/ damaged within the past year? Unsure why. Nevertheless, my teeth were always doomed to suffer, at least nutritionally, from the restriction & purging both.
+ I was chronically dehydrated, & my hyperlimited diet-- plus broccoli/zucchini/EVOO binges-- gave me chronic diarrhea, which only worsened the problem. I frequently had to go to the ER for nosediving potassium/ chloride/ sodium/ magnesium levels.
+ My stomach & intestines were always in pain. When I wasn’t having liquid bowel movements, they wouldn’t want to move at all. I would have chronic intestinal spasms & cramps, sometimes so bad I couldn’t walk, let alone stand up.

LIST HOW
YOUR COMMON FOODS AFFECT THE WAY YOU FEEL:


OATS = heavy, overheated, panicky
PEPITAS = dirty, ashamed, anxious
CARROTS = hyper, hungry, obsessive
GRAPES = hyper, “poisoned,” fearful
AVOCADO = nervous, guilty, “punished”
BROCCOLI = content, happy, “nourished” (ugly word)
SPINACH = guilty, frightened, out of control
GREEN BEANS = shameful, “cheater,” guilty
CHICKEN SAUSAGE = scared, dirty, guilty


What was your weight like before you developed bulimia?

I was never that big, honestly-- my average was 115. It began to drop during high school; I hit 105 in 2012 (I still remember the exact moment I saw that number on the scale, and the scared yet giddy euphoria I felt), and that’s when the bulimia started in earnest (from what I remember). By 2016 I was ~87. I went up to 120 in recovery in 2017, fell to 100 by 2018, and in 2022 I hit 84 at my lowest point. As of 101322 I’m at 102 in recovery.

How did you feel?

I was miserable with my pre-disorder weight until I started to lose it, even when it was stable-- I tried to ignore both it & my body, but when I couldn’t, it was intolerable. I desperately wanted to “reverse” ALL the changes of puberty. Once weight loss began to “achieve” this, my mood would briefly be euphoric, before falling again at the thought of how much could NOT chance (at least, not easily) with weight loss.

What has it been like for you since the onset of bulimia?

Hell, honestly. As a living creature, I HAVE to eat, like it or not, to maintain healthy life. So seeing food in such a negative way-- NOT as nourishment, but as PURE “WEIGHT”-- was a daily torture.
Even WORSE was how TRAPPED I felt in “an abuser’s body,” a terror that made me reject ALL “invasion & violation,” AND femininity, BOTH of which I associated powerfully with food & the very act of eating. Bulimia was my only outlet for the violent, self-annihilating rage I felt on a daily, even hourly basis.
Even so it was hell. It became an addiction, something “I couldn’t lose” when all other things were stolen or mangled beyond repair-- something “protective,” an “emergency exit” when I felt threatened by those percieved invaders that would devour the last shreds of my identity. Ironically, over time, it did that very thing. It swallowed up ALL my thoughts, time, money, & efforts. It wrecked my family relationships and destroyed friendships. It rendered me incapable of living a normal life, incapable of taking care of myself, and unwilling to live. Thank GOD I am in this recovery program now-- by myself, I was 18 years dead.

What do you think should be an ideal weight for you and why?

Honestly, if I knew that weight included a fair amount of MUSCLE, I’d be cool with 115, at the MOST. But to be totally honest, it ALL depends on how I FEEL & LOOK. The number is secondary. If my body FEELS loose & flabby, even IF I’m underweight, it’s terrifying. I want to be fit & streamlined & strong, not “ugly” words like “thin” & “slim” & “slender.” That’s gross. I DON’T want to be a waif or a skeleton. I DON’T want to be “petite” or “lanky” or “lean,” even. All those words make me nauseous. I want to be STRONG & HEALTHY. I want to be buff without being hefty. And I DO NOT want to look like a girl!! That’s just being honest. But yeah, 115 is cool right now, 110 better for my current state. I need to ease into it, and TONE IT UP SON!!!


Write a paragraph about what it was like for you to come into the hospital listing both the positive and negative aspects of this experience for you.

POSITIVE:
+ No meal preparation/ buying/ planning
+ No obsessing over “what to eat”; no trust in own choices
+ Solidly structured day
+ Predictable routine of meals (minor variations)
+ Lots of workbooks to focus on
+ No access/ ability to overeat
+ No access/ abiltiy to binge
+ No restriction because “eating will make them happy/ proud of me”
+ TRUST in facing fear foods “since THEY gave it to me”
+ Lots of education


NEGATIVE:
- Lots of sugar in diet
- Obligatory social conversation
- Unavoidable exposure to media/ music that disturbs me
- “No control” over body shape or sickness
- Body getting bigger & “padded”
- Lots of pain & discomfort
- Trauma flashbacks & panic attacks
- No longer recognize own body
- Cannot exercise
- Cannot go outside (at first)
- MUST learn to sit with anxiety & discomfort
- Sleep schedule/ soundness disturbed
- Become DEPENDENT on hospital for “recovery”


Some personality characteristics can predispose people to turn to bingeing as a means of coping. Do you recognize any of these in yourself? If so, which ones?

Admittedly-- and with great humiliation-- ALL of them, both now & in the past.
1. “The Pleasure Eater”, using food as a comfort mechanism or stimulant = when “bored” by isolation (for WEEKS) and plagued by anxiety & depression-- AND often the lack of accessible healthy options-- I would combat the “emptiness” by shopping & eating, “just to feel something loud enough to get through the numbness/ have a consistent & practical job to do.” Eating WAS indeed the “solution”-- I never dealt with the root causes of my negative emotions. But in a way this behavior WAS A SURVIVAL MECHANISM during trauma situations (“solitary confinement”), so that “comfort” was ALL I HAD.
2. “Entitlement,” feeling deprived and using food as a tranquilizer for anxiety = I felt so deprived of LOVE; many basic needs were unmet/ hindered: water & clothes were tricky to manage, shelter was a dirty crowded mess/ isolatory, finances were limited/ controlled. I “simulated abundance” by bingeing; it temporarily fooled me, but ultimately made the “lack” so much worse-- after a binge, I’d be even more anxious, frightened, alone, poor, & deprived than any other time.
3. “Natural flaw thinking,” feeling incapable of managing eating urges = I did believe that I’d inevitably
fail/ relapse, feeling helpless/ powerless against my compulsions & urges to binge. When in crisis, and/or “beating myself up,” I’d flat-out “give in/ give up” and purge/ restrict/ binge as SELF-ABUSE. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy; I felt “too broken/ bad/ stupid/ etc. to be healthy,” damning myself to the disorder.

List below the potential problems you may have with hospital rules.

+ Some problems with “recreation therapy” & “art” groups; these can be VERY depressing & anxiety-inducing, even triggering! They can also be hypersocial/ “new-agey” which makes me notably distressed & can trigger flashbacks. I would rather NOT make art if that’s OK? “Art” is VERY trauma-mangled for me currently, & in general it is INTENSELY PERSONAL for me; “doing art” in PUBLIC feels like violation/ voyeurism.
+ At first “no purge” was tough, ESPECIALLY when suffering pain & FULLNESS after meals
+ I also had to overcome my “passive-aggressive” tendency of NOT expressing my needs & expecting others to be able to “guess”/ “read the mood”. I’m actively overcoming this.


A NOTE:
+ Bulimia has historically been my ONLY “coping skill,” so when it is removed, ALL the stuff I was using it to muffle/suppress WILL manifest at last!!! Without different, healthy coping skills to manage this, recovery will be EXTREMELY DISTRESSING & potentially impossible, due to trauma upheaval.

What fears fo you have when you think of giving up your bulimia?

+ I fear the reason why it started: the old trauma, emotional distress, identity loss, & despair for the future that I always ran away from, unwilling to face/ admit/ accept their reality in my psyche. I naturally want to puke when I’m anxious & overwhelmed & even angry; my stomach just knots up & spasms, and my emotions “instinctively” want to “get the poison out”/ “purge out the pain”, which physically translates to a desperate “need” to be empty/ safe/ clean again, characterized by vomiting. That would happen with or without food. But, as for the bingeing, that began as “eating myself into oblivion” during high school, a desperate & covert way to “force total dissociation” from intolerable stress/ fear/ sorrow and hopelessness/ helplessness. I HAD NO “SAFE SPACES”, no coping skills, no support system, and no way to even process the ABUSE I was suffering at that time as well. In that situation, with nowhere to go & nowhere to turn to, with no “escape” or refuge available to me, childhood comfort/ survival instinct kicked in, & I turned to food to “meet those needs.” But I had SO MUCH PAIN, and such a gutted sense of self from the trauma, that no amount of food could EVER fill that abyss. I began to binge, solely to dissociate for HOURS, and subtly self-destruct, perhaps even an unconscious “venting” of distress violent urges through all the biting/ chewing-- AND EXPLICITLY A TRAUMA RESPONSE with the SPITTING, which er turned to vomiting, when my hunger got so bad I started actually consuming things. But it felt like POISON, like APE, es ecially after SLC, and I LITERALLY BELIEVED that I WAS “vomiting out all the trauma stored in my stomach fat”; a belief rooted in the psychosomatic horror of feeling/ hearing “yellow screaming” when I would touch the bulk of my abdomen, and reinforced by the fact that those screaming emotions DID decrease in intensity & volume as I lost weight.
The bulimia became a nightly hell, and-- as life became more stressful & isolatory, & I lost my main methods of self-abuse??-- eventually escalated to devour my entire life. Paradoxically, although it WAS hell, it was less of a hell than what I was using it to run away from. I clung to it like an addict, because it was STILL “numbing” all the conscious awareness of trauma & crisis IN my daily life. When I TRIED to stop, I suddenly HAD to face those harrowing truths & emotional turmoil, and I had NO IDEA HOW, let alone any means or skills to, BESIDES the bulimia/ anorexia. So I could never “quit,” because the alternative was intolerable. As sick as it sounds, the bingeing/ purging DID “keep me alive” in those situations where I otherwise would’ve been more directly suicidal. Nevertheless it WAS still killing me in its own way. Even now, I “fear” “giving it up” SOLELY because it WAS a “survival mechanism” for so long. The STARVING is something I WILL admittedly “MISS” in a way--
I associated that feeling of hunger & emptiness with COURAGE & DISCIPLINE & PURITY & SACRIFICE. Eating felt dirty in contrast. But… that starvation was ALSO a desperate attempt to “deny & suppress” my hunger IN PRINCIPLE, because deep down, part of me DID WANT TO EAT & even ENJOYED IT. And that was both TERRIFYING & UNACCEPTABLE because we saw “eating” as SYNONYMOUS WITH SEX. “Enjoyment” AND “desire” in general were “sexualized” to our abused brain. I fear that happening again-- the “feeling violated” and/or “feeling like a whore” when I CHOOSE to eat… and the purge response to being “forced” to eat in “violating” circumstances, such as in LOUD places or when FORCED to talk/ socialize. Without purging I feel raped. Restricting PREVENTS that, and overeating is almost a “FAWN” response… purging is delayed FIGHT. But… they’ve been my ONLY APPLICABLE COPING MECHAMISMS FOR “CONSUMPTION TRAUMA” and right now I have NO effective replacements. God I NEED OTHER SURVIVAL MECHANISMS. I NEED HEALTHY COPING SKILLS. Please help me.


In short:

YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT YOUR EMOTIONS (OR “LACK THEREOF”) IN ORDER TO PROPERLY MANAGE & RESPOND TO THEM!!

Emotions are MESSAGES that communicate some NEED, and that act to MOTIVATE us to ACT on that need!

If we DON’T ACKNOWLEDGE our emotions, DENY or IGNORE them, those “unmet needs” will GET WORSE AND SO WILL THE EMOTIONS; no matter HOW much you suppress them, they WILL EVENTUALLY EXPLODE. This inevitably has dire consequences.

Binges numbed & suppressed emotions; purges were the rejection of their awareness. Restriction attempted to BOTH deny and erase emotions, but only made them even stronger THROUGH avoidance AND starvation.

We need to stop trying to “turn off” or “crush” our emotions when they cry out. LISTEN TO THEM!! Don’t use food as a physiological weapon!!


What is bulimia to me?

 

It’s a living hell!! It’s a legit ADDICTION, trying to “numb” our minds to both inner & outer turmoil, and to prevent us FROM “living” when life is seen as intolerable. It is a replacement for suicide & a placeholder for chronic abuse. It is an obstacle between me & myself. It is an expression of despair. It is self-loathing yet wanting to feel worthy of care. It is fear; SO much fear, and resistance to “what is.”

What is it like to give up bulimia?

 

Freedom. There IS a “fear,” though, of our alleged “uncontrollability” and the loss of our “sedative” of binge/ purge cycles to “suppress” it. We’re afraid ofbeing “TOO free,” with no rigid rules & restrictions & escape mechanisms for “fatal mistakes.” We’re afraid of the “EMPTY VOID” of our life post-trauma & post-suicide-planning. We filled it with the disorder before; now we must face it.

What will be difficult about giving up bulimia?

 

Facing the reality of our life: lost hopes, awful trauma, trails of destruction, a damaged body & mind, a limited future, a limited present. We have to EXIST now; we HAVE to BE A PERSON, with a past & a personality, who others can reach. That IS SCARY, post-trauma. But we still have SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR. We must be brave, and start to.

What do I look forward to in giving it up?

 

Ideally? A return of our creativity, and of its prolific output. We’ll have the TIME & ABILITY to imagine things again. We want to re-learn how to draw & write music. We want to publish books & join an orchestra again. We want to be PART OF OUR BLOOD FAMILY AGAIN. We don’t want to be sinfully oppressed & ruled by food anymore. Being TRULY HUMAN is MORE than the body!!

What are my expectations upon completion of the COPE program?

 

I expect to have TOOLS & SKILLS to manage stress & overwhelming emotions; to better understand & apply proper nutrition & meal planning; to find & untangle the ROOTS of ALL our disordered behavior compulsions/ addictive tendencies BY clarifying our core beliefs & values, thought distortions, etc.; to develop a healthier body image; & to get my life back on track!!


Self-image notes:

 + I DON’T IDENTIFY WITH THE BODY. I AM NOT THIS BODY, (and never was) BUT the “bigger” it gets, the MORE I am smothered by it!! (at least, that’s how I feel.) It’s like the body has an “inherent” personality & attitude of its own, defined by size & shape & weight, and THAT “fake self” WILL “devour ME” if it gets too big/ heavy/ fat. It’s like I see the body as an abuser, that I “must suppress” via starvation in order to protect my SELF??



Notes on denial:

"Denial is a BUFFER against UNACCEPTABLE reality." = Just like dissociation & splitting; they ALL seem to often occur together?? (Because of TRAUMA!!!)

1) SIMPLE DENIAL = "saying something is not, when it is." DIFFERENT FROM RATIONALIZING!! That would say, "yes, I'm restricting, BUT THERE'S A GOOD REASON..."

2) MINIMIZING = "seeing only a 'little' problem." ALSO NOT RATIONALIZING!! You GENUINELY see it as THAT MINOR.

^ These two involve SKEWED DEFINITION that REDEFINE the COMMON FACTUAL REALITY?

3) HOSTILITY = "angry when problem is mentioned." IT'S ANGER AT OWN SELF and/or at the DENIED REALITY that is THROWN OUTWARDS!!

4) BLAMING = "denying responsibility for behavior, projecting it elsewhere." = NO SELF-CONTROL. This ALSO shows up subtly in asking "are YOU angry with ME?" "Am I in YOUR way?" etc. "Polite" questions that are masking an accusation, sometimes hidden to self.

5) RATIONALIZING = "offering alibis and excuses to justify behaviors." Terribly common with us: "I'm eating this much because that's what they had me do at COPE/ it's what the doctor told me I should do/ etc."

6) INTELLECTUALIZING = "avoiding emotional or personal awareness of the problem by dealing with it very generally or theoretically." I do this ALL THE TIME. It ERASES "SELF" FROM THE EQUATION.

7) DIVERSION = "changing the subject." Grandma/ mom did this JARRINGLY; they wouldn't even say "let's not talk about that;" they'd just CHANGE THE TOPIC ABRUPTLY. 


"Denial is the act of saying 'no,' a coping mechanism the mind uses against disturbing feelings & thoughts." = TRAUMA RELEVANCE = if I COULDN'T say "no" THEN, then I'll say it NOW, THROUGH DENIAL!!!
SAME WITH ADDICTION: if you feel UNABLE to say "no", but WANT to, THAT comes out through DENIAL, too!
"I didn't WANT it to happen/ I can't ACCEPT that it happened/ the REALITY is intolerable" = CAUSES DENIAL!!


How do you recognize your own denial, according to these examples?

1) SIMPLE DENIAL: "I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM"; "THERE ISN'T ANYTHING WRONG"; "I FEEL FINE"; "I DON'T MIND"; "I HAVE NO PREFERENCE"; etc. Instinctive "rejection" of an "unacceptable" or "shameful" TRUTH that I WILL NOT RECOGNIZE AS TRUE OR VALID. Typically happens when I'm scared, anxious, disturbed, triggered, etc., AND when MY wants/ needs/ thoughts are "in opposition" or "offensive" to someone else's. It's a way of trying to be HEALTHY & ACCEPTABLE & FLAWLESS by outright DENYING all struggle & flaws & selfish behavior. It's an attempt to ACTIVELY REWRITE my perspective. "I don't have any questions"; "It doesn't matter"; "I'm not worried about it"; etc.

2) MINIMIZING: "I just like things to be neat & organized & clean" = but FREAKING OUT if I don't have an EXACT even number of objects, if ONE crumb hits the floor, if I can't fit ALL the books into clear categories, etc. I couldn't see the CONTROL OBSESSION & PERFECTIONISM. Things had to be METICULOUS & CALCULATED. / + "I'm not that creative/ not very talented" = when I LITERALLY have ~60 ACTIVE IDEAS, hundreds of Moralimon, several music albums in the works, a growing portfolio, and probably THOUSANDS of journal pages. / "I only need to lose a little more weight" = when it's NEVER enough, and I want it to KEEP GETTING LOWER / "It wasn't that bad of a binge" = 6 hours and several salad bowls later...

3) BLAMING: Wanting someone to move/leave and asking, "Am I in your way?" or "Do you need me to move?" etc. ALSO putting "responsibility" for the E.D. on MOM & TBAS & MEL?? The key point was my CLAIMED INABILITY TO RESIST "their orders/ expectations/ examples"? Saying things like "mom is a foodie SO now I'm addicted to food," "I can't stop eating because I'm trying to make mom happy"; "I purged because TBAS made me so upset/ disturbed"; "Mel wouldn't let me eat so now I'm overcompensating"?? In general, phrases like: "her behavior MADE me so angry"; "I wouldn't have said that if SHE hadn't upset me so much"; "she MADE me overeat/ purge"; "it's HER fault I have a disorder"??

4) RATIONALIZING: "LEARNED" behavior?? "You'd better have a good reason/ excuse OR you're gonna get PHYSICALLY BEATEN" terror. Also MORAL PANIC over "uncontrollable sins/ addiction"; desperately trying to find a "LOOPHOLE" that will give me SOME HOPE "that I WASN'T damned already." Justification sought to GIVE SOME SENSE OF "CHOICE" & "REASON" to an impulsive/ compulsive irrational behavior? "Yes I binged BUT it's because I was too shaken up by trauma to cope AND I know PURGING "HELPS""; "Yes I'm restricting but it's SELF-MORTIFICATION"; "Yes I keep wasting money & time on binges BUT I "don't DESERVE" to have money or time"? "Yes I'm hurting myself with this but I WANT TO DIE ANYWAY." Ironically excuses are DESPERATE & FEEBLE; they're "grasped at" so they don't hold water.

5) INTELLECTUALIZING: This ALWAYS seems to happen when workbooks ask us to "write ABOUT the disorder," or "TO it." We have nousfoni DEDICATED to this, honestly, because it REQUIRES A 3RD PERSON PERSPECTIVE! So it's held at a DISTANCE. Treating nutrition as a "MATH PROBLEM", and recovery just as "actions to be performed"; REMOVING ALL EMOTION from the problems & processes; "learning" but never APPLYING. This form of denial DENIES AWARENESS when it's intolerable/ unacceptable? It's a FORM OF DEPERSONALIZATION. It STRONGLY PREVENTS RECOVERY because it MAKES "RECOVERY" AND "ILLNESS" IMPERSONAL. We CAN'T mourn or ache or fight OR hope or grow or understand IF WE KEEP REMOVING "SELF" FROM THE SITUATION!!

6) DIVERSION: I've done this in the past, when up the house & trying to "divert attention" away from what I was doing when I'd be looking for & pilfering food to binge on. To prevent interrogation I'd start talking FIRST about something tangentially related TO food, asking THEM random questions instead. This overlapped with rationalizing, because I'd also be giving invented "reasons" as to why/what I was doing with food. But even if mom hinted "I hope you kept that meal down...?" I'd NEVER directly reply, being unwilling to either lie OR admit; SO instead I'd comment ABOUT the meal, asking something "intensive" like "what spices did you add to that? I thought I tasted cinnamon" or "Did you use a recipe or did you invent that? Because I know how creative you are..." to DIVERT THEIR THOUGHTS to THEMSELVES!!

7) HOSTILITY: Unfortunately this appears to be my DEFAULT when confronted? It appears to be a VIOLENT "THROWING OUTWARDS" of the intense self-hatred & despair & frustration I feel ABOUT what I'm denying; being confronted "UNBURIES" it, and the ANGER is an UNJUSTIFIED RESPONSE to "FEELING ATTACKED/ THREATENED" by that confrontation-- it feel like a weapon wielded by their words. We want so badly TO deny & hide/run from it, BECAUSE it's scary & painful, that when we're "PREVENTED" from "being safe" in that shallow sense, we BITE BACK. It's a FEAR response, even moreso than anger-- but we CAN'T run, so we FIGHT. Still, the self-hatred is the SAME ROOT AS THIS-- feeling like our OWN "ineptitude/ weakness" is preventing recovery, and using hostility to ironically try to "REMOVE THE THREAT-OBSTACLE-OFFENDER" of ourself. It's doomed to fail.

There are five stages to the grieving process... think back to a time of grief/loss in your life, and describe your experience, identifying how you were in DENIAL (OF LOSS).

1) DENIAL STAGE: + With grandma: = still talking about her in present tense; buying/ doing things for her? Unconsciously, expecting to wake up with her in the OLD bedroom; having frequent dreams about her.
+ With SLC & CNC = "We were never really friends"; "I didn't actually want to go"; DISSOCIATING?
In general I "FORGET" the REALITY of WHAT "WAS" BEFORE THE LOSS. This is NOT CONSCIOUSLY DONE and is VERY DISTURBING. It's like, "if I didn't HAVE anything to lose, I MUST be fine!!" IT'S LETHAL.
ALSO: "I don't remember anything" when deep down I DID but COULD NOT ACCEPT IT AS REAL, BECAUSE IT WAS A LOSS!!! So yes I WAS in denial, yet I COULDN'T FUNCTION because subconsciously I WAS STILL GUTTED. 

2) ANGER STAGE: TURNED INWARDS? "If I hadn't moved out, she wouldn't have died"; "I shouldn't have gone to that damn emergency room"; "Why didn't I spend more time WITH her??" Angry at my STUPID SELFISH IGNORANCE. But... angry that she "left" WITHOUT "letting me say goodbye"?
+ CNC/SLC = "WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO ME" "DIDN'T THEY CARE" "COULDN'T THEY SEE I WAS SUFFERING" "WHAT KIND OF PERSON DOES THAT" "THEY TOOK ME AWAY FROM MY FAMILY" "THEY RUINED ME IRREPARABLY"

3) BARGAINING STAGE: "God please let me die so I can finally be with her again"; "I'll gladly give up everything I have if I can just go back to being a kid again"-- WITH HER AND UNABUSED!!!
+ BARGAINED WITH TBAS??? Twitter chat "I still think I love you somehow; please give me another chance; I know I was an ass; I'll be better next time" AND with Q when he met Mel?? "I'll do whatever you tell me to; just please let us stay friends; I'll change myself to your liking just don't leave" AND debating this with Mel too? But never acted on. "I'll do ANYTHING; please let me back into your life" EVEN THOUGH I DIDN'T "WANT" TO!!!!!

4) DEPRESSION STAGE: With grandma = I gave in to the eating disorder. First week or two I felt UNBEARABLE GRIEF; then derealized & perpetuated that sense of "unconsciousness" through binge-purge self-destruction. Guilt was SO INTENSE I never stopped contemplating death & the eating disorder was a kind of slow suicide. I never wanted to wake up; I was numb & hollow.
+ With CNC/SLC = I haven't let myself truly mourn the trauma yet? I haven't been able to fully, directly admit WHAT I lost... let alone how.

5) ACCEPTANCE STAGE: I HAVE NOT EXPERIENCED THIS AT ALL YET.


Give an example of each of the four main ways people deny, identifying how you may be doing so presently.

1) REFUSE TO BELIEVE REALITY = Bodies are DESIGNED to NEED FOOD in PROPER AMOUNTS. I keep denying mine needs food at ALL (restricting), AND denying the PURPOSE of food AS NUTRITION (bingeing), NOT "garbage" or "unneccessary" or "prison" (purging)?

2) DENY/MINIMIZE GRAVITY OF LOSS = The eating disorder has taken over my life "but there wasn't any "life" to lose"; BECAUSE I ALSO keep denying HOW SHAKEN & WRECKED I STILL AM POST-TRAUMA!!! That loss was HUGE but I keep denying that??? "I'm just making a stupid fuss over nothing" NO DUDE, THAT WAS LEGIT TERRIFYING TO "LIVE" THROUGH.

3) DENYING ANY FEELINGS ABOUT THE LOSS = See previous answer. I'm NUMB, JUST TO SURVIVE. The feelings are THAT AWFUL.

4) MENTAL AVOIDANCE = I WON'T EVEN LOOK AT IT.


List five types of feelings a person in denial may experience.

1) ANGER; trapped in pain & feeling helpless
2) ANXIETY; haunted by unresolved distress
3) DEPRESSION; grief unprocessed & buried
4) NUMBNESS; you can't/ don't want to feel emotions
5) BEING "LOST"; you're cut off from reality and identity


List the evidence that you've heard substantiating/proving that you have an eating disorder.

+ BRADYCARDIA & HYPOTENSION. Drops to HIGH 30s when I try to sleep; it's TERRIFYING!
+ LEGIT OSTEOPOROSIS ONSET. Had a DEXA scan done & our bones are upsettingly porous
+ The state of my bank account & ALL THE RECEIPTS I'VE KEPT. That's PROOF of binge behavior.
+ LOW ELECTROLYTES & DEHYDRATION, almost chronically, from all the purging; MANY ER visits
+ People who saw my body thought I had cancer. THAT'S how APPARENTLY EMACIATED I was!!

Do you believe it?
If not, what would it take to convince you?

 
...It's still split. That's insane, but true. On one hand I KNOW my life is screwed up & wrecked by this behavior and I'm SICK OF BEING SICK and I don't EVER want to binge or purge EVER AGAIN.
...but. I STILL VERY MUCH WANT TO RESTRICT. I'm PLANNING to, even NOW, 6 WEEKS INTO TREATMENT!!! I just don't want to eat. I'm tired. It's exhausting & painful. And I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS "CHUNKY." If I can't turn myself into a TANK I'm probably gonna get desperate & go BACK towards being a TWIG.
As for convincing... well, right now a BIG part of me BELIEVES that eating minimally, by restricting BOTH intake & variety & time, is the VIRTUOUS IDEAL and If I DO that, I'LL BE "GOOD," or at least "NOT A GLUTTONOUS WHORE." ... Which is still a core fear as well.


On a scale of 0 to 5, how motivated are you to get well and follow treatment?

I'd say about 3.7. BUT I WANT TO BE A 5!!!


prismaticbleed: (shatter)

HOW FAMILY MEMBERS REACT TO MY EATING:

Apparently LOTS of gossip & secret whispering; no one TALKS to me about it.

Mom blames herself, & tries to:
- Pretend it's not happening
- Cure it herself or wish it away
- Control what &/or how much I eat
- "Threaten" me to stop

Dad things it's ridiculous & immature, and:
- Tells me to "man up" and get over it
- "Threatens" me to stop, gives me the cold shoulder


I FEEL:

Weak, rejected, hurt, angry, inherently broken, dirty, subhuman, ashamed, undeserving of compassion or mercy, disgraceful; I loathe myself, give in to despair, hate myself when I can't "just get better"



FAMILY BEHAVIORS THAT INFLUENCE MY EATING:

Historically, our childhood "family meals" were framed by obsessive/ stressful/ forced prep & cleanup; rigidly timed; & often punctuated/ broken up by arguments. Typically people stormed away, left early, etc. Dour moods. NO "happy" memories.


MOM

CONSTANTLY says she "hates her body/ appearance"; constantly talks about trying to lose weight via restrictive eating & compulsive exercise; openly ridicules/ mocks "heavy" people AND herself; used to ridicule/ poke fun at me when younger by saying things like "you have a bubble butt," "you better stop eating or you'll look like grandma," etc; BUT ALSO made comments like "I wish I was as skinny as you; I'm fat & ugly" and "Give me some diet tips/ advice on how to lose weight", and would always ask me to work out with her FOR weight loss. Always showing off/ displaying old modeling photos of herself (she was SUPER THIN) & refusing to throw out her high school/ college outfits, bragging at how tiny they were, AND saying "one day I WILL lose enough weight to fit in these again." ALSO would make ME dress up in them, BOTH praising my thinness AND subtly critiquing the ways I failed to measure up to that ideal-- my wider hips, pudgier stomach, etc. It was both humiliating & damaging to my sense of individuality & worth. To this day she openly obsesses over "healthy food" vs "garbage food"-- fixating on calories, fat, sugars, carbs, & processing. If she eats a "forbidden" food she laughs, says her "diet is ruined"/ "why even bother trying"/ "I have no willpower" etc., claims it will "go straight to her belly/ butt/ hips", and concludes "I'll have to skip meals tomorrow/ exercise even more to lose that FAT." NEVER happy with body. ALWAYS comparing her shape to others & wistfully/ resentfully clinging to "ideal" of PRE-ADULTHOOD.

DAD

Rarely saw him eat, BUT never saw disordered behavior. Never complained, not picky, casual/ normal diet. Great cook. Aware of own hunger & fullness cues; respects them! Portion control is apt; he never overcooks; unafraid to make/ use leftovers. No body image complaints, ever. I DEFINITELY need to visit him & share meals more often; ONLY TROUBLE is that he is totally intolerant OF disordered behavior & openly condemns it, calling it "stupid" & "insane". Deeply shamed me. It does motivate me thought, because I feel that way about it too. Still, the lack of patience/ compassion is disturbing.

GRANDMA

OCD "control"/ perfection obsessions. "Ate like a bird"; "I'm not hungry"; tiny portions, tiny bites, eating seen as a chore? "The thought/ smell of food makes me want to throw up"; VERY CRITICAL of manners/ propriety!! Manners must be METICULOUSLY CLEAN. Any burps/ drips/ drool/ crumbs/ spills/ slips/ runny noses/ etc. were absolutely demonized as "disgusting" AND "you should be ashamed"/ "Don't you feel disgusting?" Often called us "pigs"; "you eat like a wild animal"; "babies aren't even as messy as you"; etc. OFTEN spoke "to an audience" in this way-- "Ugh! LOOK at how piggish she is!" shaming. STRONGLY SUSPECT that she said things like "GOOD GIRLS DON'T ACT/ BEHAVE LIKE THAT"; implying "LIKE YOU." My "filthiness" MADE ME BAD. Also made me INHUMAN; by her rules, "people" were neat, clean, prim & poised, eating tiny bits with tiny bites, chewing thoroughly & never rushing, etc. Hunger was mocked & scorned; always told to wait; "be grateful you even HAVE food." Tied into "NEVER eat too much." Fear of rations/ scarcity? Yet NO "taste for it," for the most part-- even if she DID like a food, she would rarely eat the whole thing... she only started to 'ASK FOR MORE" when she was starving from cancer. We'd all be so shocked, yet grateful, that she WAS eating.

GRANDPA


Overate, "licked up every crumb"; "ravenous." Junk food hoarding/ hiding; bought/ ate secretly. ANGRY when eating was interrupted, OR he couldn't eat the specific thing he wanted; avoidant eating habits formed easily & hard-- one bad experience & he'd REJECT that food for YEARS. VERY messy eater, ALWAYS "wanted more." Stockpiled/ hoarded food to excess; bought things he didn't even need. Food typically spoiled, rotted, or went stale-- BUT HE WOULD STILL EAT IT! Sometimes he'd even INSIST on it, REFUSING to "throw out food" until it was literally inedible (i.e. ALL mold, turned to mush). Even then he'd make excuses; he'd pick off mold, pick out bugs, wipe off slime, etc. AND EAT IT ANYWAY. Often ONLY bought old/ stale food "because it was cheaper" AND "he didn't want to see it thrown away." Would lick wrappers & lids & packets to get every last bit; he would even pick things OUT of the garbage, if he saw someone toss a food "that was still edible/ unfinished." Food as security/ comfort?

ASTRA

WON'T try new foods because she's "afraid she might go into anaphylaxis"; BUT NO ALLERGIES?? PANIC DISORDER/ rage issues? Depression/ dysphoria restriction. Only ate snack food; wouldn't touch a vegetable. Originally would not feed self; relied on snacks left on her desk. Now goes for hours, maybe days, without eating? Losing weight fast. As a child she was teased "what a chubby baby!" and ridiculed "then why isn't she jolly?" basically. Stereotypical. Mom said she'd "grow up to be big & hefty/ brawny" with a "baritone voice." Considering she's MTF, no wonder she's restricting. ANXIETY VOMITS, making eating feel "useless" & distressing.

DIAMOND

Nutrition obsession; medical focus. Keto diet; HYPERAVOIDANT. Three foods!! Always been a picky eater, outright refusing to eat things that even TOUCHED certain foods. Many texture aversions. Childhood "demanding" portions before anyone else-- WOULDN'T eat it once someone else touched it!! If he saw grandma touch or taste a food while preparing it, he likewise would refuse to eat it. Always buying new supplements & diet books. Will NOT eat around others. OVEREXERCISES!! "Body builder" rigid routine.

JADE

Hyperlimited "new age" diet, certain foods "poison" &/or "killing my mind/ soul". Only raw &/or "superfoods"? Restrictive & avoidant. SUPER MESSY-- never cleaned mess OR washed plates/ utensils. Ate more powders/ pills/ bars than whole foods. CHILDHOOD STEROID WEIGHT GAIN; "hated" that "self"? Rejected past.

ALL siblings typically wouldn't eat ALL DAY unless someone else MADE them a plate & brought it TO them-- even then they would refuse to eat anything "mushy/ discolored/ mixed wrong/ crumbled or broken." Would let food sit & ROT on their desks rather than eat it OR touch it to throw away.

ME

Anorexic bulimic since age 14, if not earlier. The ONLY person who vomits on purpose, OR binges. Ashamed. Developed BOTH as a broken coping mechanism for trauma & severe emotional distress. Moral views about food/ eating; OCD compulsions, obsessive & excess exercise, avoided most foods out of choking "fear of poisoning / fatal allergy"






prismaticbleed: (Default)


post-breakfast//

Breakfast was mostly corrective/ instructive. The eggs were lovely-- INSTANT hose company memories w/ ketchup-- BUT we only grabbed ONE ketchup, and that "mistake" made us dissociate; we struggled to even taste the rest of the eggs. But I tried & prayed! They just have a VERY light taste, so it is actually normally tough to "grasp" when dealing w/ distractions. But the memory data IS solidifying, thank You God! Unfortunately our HUGE MISTAKE was the french toast. We started fine, BUT nerves caused us to lapse into bizarre behaviors, and we put creamer AND soymilk on the toast, EVEN though JESUS SAID DON'T!! BUT HERE'S THE TROUBLE-- we always wondered, "why don't we obey?" And TODAY, we realized-- when we're anxious/ disturbed by "mistakes," we GET LOST IN EMOTIONAL DISTRESS, and when that happens, THOUGHTS BECOME NOISE, AND UNRELIABLE!! So the emotional turmoil OVERRIDES "LOGIC" & REASON, because we CAN'T DISCERN EITHER PROPERLY in that state! Therefore, EVEN internal "don't do it!!" warnings are DISREGARDED, but UNWILLINGLY-- we SENSE the threat & danger & FEAR the choice/ action/ consequences, BUT DO IT ANYWAY because we're ALREADY SHAKEN/ SCARED AND "DESPAIRING"-- to us, even ONE mistake instantly PREVENTS SUCCESS & DOOMS US TO FAILURE, so "making MORE mistakes" not only feels INEVITABLE but almost OBLIGATORY?? Like the very concept of "NOT making that predicted, and therefore "GUARANTEED" mistake, is incomprehensible; our current "reality" has now been redefined AS "failure" so ALL actions "MUST" fit the bill?? To HAVE obeyed, and said "OK, I won't do that BECAUSE You're implying it would be unwise/ improper/ harmful," would actually have REQUIRED us to have been in a REASONABLE STATE OF MIND-- ONE THAT COULD HOPE FOR, AND BELIEVE IN, HEALTH & PEACE & WELLBEING! But we felt "DOOMED" to make further mistakes; "the first domino had fallen," so there was "no point" in picking one back up: the "whole thing" was wrecked; the WHOLE was TAINTED/ CORRUPTED by the single drop of poison. So we just... put the creamer on the toast anyway, BIZARRELY "hoping against hope" that the moisture would soften it & "soothe" us in the process? Which leads into our next three points: (1) "DISORDERED/ IMPROPER" BEHAVIOR ALWAYS ENDS BADLY!!! Yes, we DID have hope that it'd work well, and potentially it might have, but ON THE UNIT, SUCH "IMPROPER" USE OF CREAMER IS VERY MUCH DISOBEDIENT TO UNIT BEHAVIOR RULES!!! Which can be VERY hard for us to accept in certain situations like this, where the "added moisture" would potentially make a food MUCH easier AND/OR less disturbing to eat!! BUT THE GUILT IS CRUSHING. We know that "if we were CAUGHT," we would be UNBEARABLY ASHAMED & HUMILIATED, AND GUILTY OF REBELLIOUS BEHAVIOR! We ARE NOT an exception to the rules!! But oh man I've gotta admit we are STUBBORNLY TEMPTED to STILL dump creamers over the Saturday rice bowl, because THAT MADE IT PALATABLE last weekend when we WERE ACTIVELY STRUGGLING TO COPE WITH NEW TRAUMA, and the taste/ texture shift GENUINELY HELPED, both to chew it AND in making it "SOFT/SWEET" to, conceptually, soothe our crying frightened child of a mind deeply shaken. AND IT HELPED. So... we feel VERY torn, even if foolishly, between "creamer is ONLY to be put into coffee or tea," and 'I WANT to put creamer into the rice because AT HOME it would be both ALLOWED AND HELPFUL; besides, Indian recipes OFTEN add sweeter coconut milks & creams to their rice dishes!!" Still... at the absolute bitter core of it, the choice comes down to OBEY THE CONTEXTUAL RULES or BREAK THOSE RULES & SELF-INDULGE. "Do the RIGHT thing, EVEN if no one is looking." But GOD is ALWAYS looking; and HE KNOWS your TRUE motivation, beneath all the excuses & petty, vain "justifications": put bluntly, in this dilemma, my temptation is to prioritize pleasure over sacrifice. I want sweet rice, not savory rice, EVEN THOUGH THAT'S the kind GOD GAVE ME to eat!!! Who am I to brazenly insist on my own way, on special treatment??? I'm dust!! I'm a wretched worm!! I'm grumbling about taste & texture, complaining about the desert's limitations, EVEN THOUGH GOD IS MIRACULOUSLY FEEDING, PROTECTING, GUIDING, AND SAVING ME!! I'm blinding myself TO those blessed miracles by foolishly fixating on rice and coffee creamer. What an idiot I'm being. God forgive me. Boy oh boy I am being VERY LOVINGLY CHASTISED today!!! I'm SORELY humbled, but I'm regaining my sight down here, sheltered from the hot air of pride, here in the SHADOW of God's protective wings. I couldn't even fit under them before, puffing myself up all proud & stiff-necked. But now... I'm like a feeble baby bird. I've realized my own wings aren't developed yet, and I'm too uneducated AND weak to fly yet. Honestly I'm happier here, close to God, contrite for having been so silly & trying to do things on my own, not having ANY right judgment on my own, getting scorched & sick, humiliated & ashamed. But God still welcomes me back with open arms & a smile when I return to Him with a humbled heart. Obedience is best, and WISE, for the LIFE of both my body & soul. And it is ONLY through WILLINGLY CHOOSING to both make AND endure little "deaths" of self-sacrifice & mortification-- tiny Crosses, splinters of His Own-- that I can PARTICIPATE IN AND RECEIVE FORGIVENESS FOR MY DISOBEDIENCE, AND A NEW LIFE LIVED BOTH IN AND FOR HIM!! I can JOYFULLY OFFER UP MY LITTLE MORTIFICATIONS IN UNION WITH HIS, which is an INCOMPREHENSIBLE HONOR, allowing my pain & inconvenience & self-denial to be INFUSED WITH HOLY PURPOSE & POWER, as they are then MADE PART OF CHRIST'S REDEMPTIVE WORK! He ALLOWS AND ENCOURAGES US to "fill up what is lacking" in the Suffering of His Body, as it was then limited by time & space, but IN US, THE CHURCH, that SAME sacrifice of the Cross BECOMES TANGIBLY ETERNAL & OMNIPRESENT!!! How could I EVER disdain such an honor, such a blissful opportunity?? Choosing the SELF-DENIAL of NOT putting creamer in food, however "paltry" it may seem, is STILL a mortification of my own emotional compulsions, and WILL require a SOLID EFFORT OF WILL-- something ONLY POSSIBLE THROUGH GRACE!!! So PRAY for that Grace, AND for a heart humble, open, SOFT & SWEET enough TO BOTH RECEIVE & ACT ON THAT GRACE!!!
On that note, (2) FRENCH TOAST IS STILL TRIGGERING US?? Looking at what data we have, a BIG part of that IS the harder the texture this kind has, AND I THINK I KNOW WHY-- because AT HOME, as a child, "SAFE" french toast would either be on ROUND ITALIAN BREAD or FLUFFY TEXAS TOAST... and both would ALWAYS be SOFT & WET from the steam and the butter! The ONLY TIMES we EVER had "regular sliced bread" french toast were IN NORTH CAROLINA, AND DURING BINGES-- and yes, in BOTH cases, THEY WERE HARD. So THAT explains WHY our poor bedraggled brain FAVORED EMOTION OVER OBEDIENCE and "wet" the toast; IT WAS TRYING TO PREVENT THAT TRAUMA RESPONSE, and instead REMEMBER CHILDHOOD COMFORTS. There was just ONE seemingly insignificant factor we overlooked, never guessing how HUGE it actually was... (3) TASTE MATTERS. This one BLINDSIDED us. We SOMEHOW overlooked the ADDITIONAL childhood-memory fact that we ALWAYS had POWDERED SUGAR on our hyperbuttered french toast... NEVER SYRUP!!! Now by itself that's just a distinction; BUT!! The INSTANT we put it on the breakfast today & TASTED it? SHEER PANIC. We did NOT expect that! But the ketchup "mistake" had made our mind vulnerable, so it's not surprising something distressing was now ABLE to surface. Syrup is a BINGE FOOD first & foremost, so that anxiety makes sense, BUT there were TWO MORE TRAUMA TRIGGERS??? First was the taste of syrup PLUS CINNAMON-- somehow that spiked the nerves? But the WORST was SYRUP + BUTTER-- we IMMEDIATELY got PANCAKE TERROR??? Like LEGIT TRAUMA-GRADE fear!!! The very THOUGHT of eating pancakes with syrup makes us ACTUALLY WANT TO VOMIT. And there is GOOD REASON why, judging by the FACTS that we've had MULTIPLE experiences where "pancakes" = oil fires, fire alarms, horrific burns/ spills, and FILTHY frying pans; PLUS typically pancakes would be THICK AS GLUE, bitter as baking soda, and DROWNING IN SYRUP. I CANNOT think of a SINGLE non-traumatic pancake incident; EVERY time we'd eat one, we would be TREMBLING, TERRIFIED, & IN TEARS. Notably, the ONLY "positive" pancake experience we've EVER had was in a DRAMATICALLY separate context: sneaking broken pieces off of COLD pancakes, saranwrapped in the refrigerator, as a guilty child-- and ONLY the chocolate chip kind!! Plain, blueberry, cranberry, raisin, AND banana kinds are ALL SCARY!!! HONESTLY I wonder if the ONLY REASON chocolate chip ones were "safe" is because we ate them AS COOKIES! We NEVER ate them with utensils, and they were ALWAYS cold and "stiff"-- NOT warm or wet or soft! Those qualities are ESSENTIAL for french toast, but LETHAL for pancakes-- on that note, THAT may have set off the french toast panic?? Because THEY were dangerous WHEN COLD!! And the ones on today's plate WERE-- cold, hard, & dry! STILL, on their own, they NEVER gave the SHEER AMOUNT OF FEAR & DREAD that the syrup did today. That has me so confused, because it is EXACERBATED by being paired with not just butter, but ALSO the cinnamon, and maybe nutmeg? But specifically the "french toast" taste! Why so?? Is it just too close of a pancake analog, that tasting syrup ON french toast is "wrong"?? OR DID WE HAVE A BINGE TRAUMA WITH SYRUP ON FRENCH TOAST, TOO??? Would THAT do it? Because honestly I'm ALSO unsure on whether or not SYRUP on its own COUNTS as trauma food, because I DID taste some plain today, but... no immediate flashbacks??? Just "autumn = maple" associations. Which is BIZARRE, because even IMAGINING THE TASTE OF SYRUP MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE. But is that because MOST of my memories of it are AS IT IN A COMBINATION?? Like on pancakes, or in beans or something? And THAT is nauseating. But "just maple" isn't scary?? I DON'T "like" it; that I must admit, BUT geez WHY am I even scared of the WORD "MAPLE"?? It legit gives me the shakes!! Actually, HOW MUCH OF THAT IS "HARVEST FEAR"??? Consider that, BUT please ALSO consider that there is the tiniest bit of syrup still on my hands and WHENEVER I catch that scent, I INSTANTLY GET PANCAKE VISUALS!!! Like the two have become INEXTRICABLE in sensory memory?? And pancakes are LEGIT TERRIFYING... unless they are COLD with chocolate chips, haha. That is SO WEIRD, ESPECIALLY since CHOCOLATE ITSELF is a HUGE trauma food, arguably the WORST!! But context is powerful, and for SOME REASON, COLD CHOCOLATE CHIPS don't immediately register AS chocolate??? Partly the temp/ texture change, partly the bittersweet taste?? No clue. Gosh this is all so tangled. I'm only trying so hard to UNTANGLE it so that, by UNEARTHING/ REVEALING the roots, we CAN ease out those knots through patience & WISDOM gained through KNOWLEDGE & UNDERSTANDING, and in doing so, enable our soul & mind to HEAL & GROW AGAIN. I want to be free. But you CAN'T just "turn off" trauma; nor can it be suppressed, denied, belittled, or rejected without DISASTROUS CONSEQUENCES. Trauma, EVEN weirdass food trauma like this, is a REAL PSYCHOLOGICAL WOUND that REQUIRES CAREFUL, PATIENT, COMPASSIONATE HEALING, and that process is UNIQUE to every soul, as it inevitably corresponds to both HOW one was wounded, and BY WHAT. If I was somehow "wounded" by pancakes & syrup BEING PART OF A TRAUMA-- the food, in and of itself, IS AND WAS HARMLESS & INNOCENT-- then I MUST ACCEPT THAT trauma response AS REAL & LEGITIMATE BEFORE IT CAN BE HEALED!!!
On that note, again. Syrup DOES seem to turn my stomach, in and of itself! I think it's just the simple sugars? Perhaps-- but I cannot deny that the SHEER BRUTE FORCE of "pancake panic" that hit/ is hitting me is NOT easing the nausea, haha. So right now I can't objectively tell whether or not this sick feeling & urge to vomit is from the syrup in a physical way, or in an emotional way. Could be both! But I ALSO have both prayer & Mylanta to combat it, ahaha, so we're golden. Which is VERY GOOD TO KNOW because LUNCH IS DOUBLE CHOCOLATE! BUT!!! EVEN in that, I'm actually tearing up because GOD IS SO MERCIFUL & GENTLE WITH ME. I was PLANNING to tackle the chocolate milk at lunch, BUT God apparently decided that wouldn't be smart on top of this syrup stress, so He CHANGED it to a chocolate pudding (safest chocolate option!) and a chocolate SHAKE 'EM UP. So I have been granted REST from my efforts, WITHOUT removing my efforts!! THANK YOU GOD. ♥ Now I've gotta STOP & PRAY so that, by God's grace, I CAN meet that challenge!!
(One last note: we are HEARTBROKEN that we can't have "GRANDMA'S" vanilla pudding today. BUT. We lifted that up in prayerful surrender, wanting to heal & be courageous-- we COULDN'T enjoy "her" pudding if we KNEW we were "running away" TO do so-- and almost heard her say, "I already know you love me; the pudding won't change that, and you don't need to "prove it" that way. But you CAN prove your trust in God, AND your willingness to more fully love & forgive MY DAUGHTER-- by eating the chocolate pudding with JUST AS MUCH tenderness & gratitude today. Have faith in God's plan and surrender to His merciful Will; He allows this to teach you an even deeper, more complete love & trust, for the truest healing & salvation of your soul. Don't worry about me! I already love you, too. There's nothing to be sad about." So here we go!!




post-lunch//

+ The chocolate pudding DID taste JUST LIKE Mom's desserts! And the Shake 'em Up WASN'T SCARY AT ALL; I actually ENJOYED it, even though it tastes quite unique!! It's not bad at all-- and I'm HONESTLY learning, through all this courageous effort, that maybe... chocolate itself ISN'T BAD, either. What a thought. What a beautiful thought. That's... LIBERATING, to my very soul. Chocolate is an ANCIENT fear food, one I even HATED, and even damned as EVIL!! To be PROVING THAT WRONG is not only FREEING MY HEART from that horrible judgmental bias, but it's ALSO glorifying GOD-- proving that EVEN the WORST fears-- and sinners!!-- CAN BE REDEEMED!!!



post-snack//

It was a challenge night!! I tried BOTH the DORITOS & the CHOCOLATE SUNDAE! And, blessed be God, they were BOTH GOOD!! Admittedly, yes there WERE some little "tough spots," but they were SO minor it surprised me! The Doritos have a "corn chip" anxiety, very little, tied to old memories of stale/ dusty tortilla chips at the house, corn taco messes, and TBAS shaming us for eating THEIR chips/ us bingeing on corn tortillas at night. But God knows we want to LET THAT GO, AND FORGIVE. It's really ONLY possible through LOVE, and God ALSO knows we NEED HIS GRACE TO DO THAT-- we honestly want to love them, BUT the "LAST time" we loved them it nearly KILLED us-- they were ACTIVELY CORRUPTING OUR CONSCIENCE, and we were just nosediving into the eating disorder to cope with the trauma/ powerlessness/ isolation/ loss of self/ etc. We DID love them. Just, after all that terror, we're not sure HOW to STILL love them SAFELY, without damaging our soul again. GOD knows, though. Jesus knows better than ANYONE, EVER. We'll talk to Him in prayer about it. But yes! Thankfully, despite the shame/ anxiety "aura" that corn chips have, we DO like them, ultimately? And the nacho taste was actually kinda nice! AND we DIDN'T GET SICK OR DIRTY!!! Thank You God!!! ♥ So we're gonna try 'em again tomorrow-- WITH the ice cream, which tastes like BOTH childhood Valentine's day chocolate, AND how Hershey Park smells! So it's positive AND anxious. We'll work on visiting the memories & healing that anxiety, once we find its roots (probably social attention + park helplessness). God will help us. ♥ See you tomorrow!!

 


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post-breakfast//

The ONLY thing I'm still scared of is the BANANA. There's more disturbance associated with them than I realized.
+ We still love eggs (1 s&p work nicely), but they're BEST eaten W/O UTENSILS! They don't make a mess that way. Pick 'em up & bite 'em! (They're a nice shape)
+ We legit enjoy these muffins now. Still crumbly though; PICK THEM UP TOO-- utensils just crush the poor things. We still "eat the top" first which MAY be the cause of our "how do I hold it" problem (like the "circling" burgers). Try eating it in a straight line like an average joe; In any case it's a little exercise in obedient self-mortification, which ALWAYS bears good fruit. ♥ Similarly, we WAITED until the last bite to put the butter on it, so we'd get it all at once. But THAT is abnormal, too! Practice properly spreading the butter on BEFORE you start biting into it.
+ WE LIKE COFFEE. We added 2 creamers only to 120mL and it was SO NICE. That bitter-brown undertone IS enjoyable. Sweet pushes RUIN that!
+ The vanilla chai tea is BEST PLAIN! It tastes vaguely like Christmas?? We'll need to experience it more deeply to find out-- this morning we were distractive anxiety over "needing to add milk/ creamer" to the rest. On that note, adding ONLY soymilk triggers the Borders memories!! FURTHER adding creamer BREAKS that COMPLETELY. There WAS a resulting & TOTALLY UNEXPECTED "flash" to AIRPORT STARBUCKS?? But that could be false, as we would base THOSE on "London fog"-- BUT then add cinnamon, nutmeg, AND vanilla powder!! So that's a fascinating regained historical awareness!
+ WE LIKED THE RAISIN BRAN!!! Yet another concept-only fear food redeemed!! Raisins are safe now, so that's half the battle, but we did NOT expect the bran to be SO POSITIVE! Apparently their core association is with MOM'S BRAN MUFFINS, which are PURELY POSITIVE, and also have raisins in them!! So thank you Mom, for unknowingly healing this ancient fear food through your gracious, generous, unfailing & always-sweet motherly love. ♥ And muffins!
+ We have GOT to heal bananas, but that can ONLY happen in earnest BY giving them a POSITIVE (EDIFYING!) RE-ASSOCIATION!! The only starting concept we have is identical to the applesauce: being so sweet, gentle, & soft already, bananas are IDEAL for baby food AND the elderly! So that humble communion can be a KEY anchor to further healing; without such humble softness & openness of mind & heart, we CANNOT heal!! And the literal physicality of a banana is a tangible, experiential reminder of that. Medical fears-- like "allergies," "GI/GL spikes" & "binding foods" have been PROVEN INAPPLICABLE to our treatment experience here, AND can be safely/ prudently/ easily/ fearlessly managed & tested otherwise. That lingering low-key but insistent banana anxiety IS "harm-based"; the fear is expecting injury/ damage, but WHERE? The body or the soul? Either way, they're BOTH IMPOSSIBLE!! Mark 7:15-23 AGAIN. Foods CANNOT affect your soul, because JESUS SAID SO; THAT is true no matter what the "new age" movement insists. Similarly, you won't "die" if you get a sugar rush, or a little gastric discomfort. GOD MADE YOUR BODY, AND HE MADE IT WORK; a tiny incident like that is easily "recovered from." PLUS, there is NO NEED to fear ANY bodily pains or discomforts; those DO count as "SUFFERINGS" that CAN be patiently & faithfully united TO THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST for the forgiveness of sins & conversion of sinners!! DON'T EVER FORSAKE SUCH A BLESSING!!! But in conclusion, let me ALSO repeat: no matter WHAT sinful things you've experienced in association w/ bananas, ALL SINS CAN & WILL BE WASHED AWAY BY CHRIST IF WE GIVE THEM TO HIM! So do that! GOD CREATED BANANAS, you know, so regardless of the devil's lies, the Creation is STILL GOD'S. ♥



post-lunch//

We had TWO juices-- OJ and grape-- and BOTH are safe/ positive!! OJ does have very slight residual "unease" but it feels attached to childhood in general, & our fear/ dread of SUMMERTIME STRESS bleeding over in context. But by itself, it's totally okay.
+ ITALIAN DRESSING... ISN'T SCARY! Again!! It's actually VIVIDLY associated with-- again!-- CHURCH BASEMENT DINNERS, the VFW, and I actually thing COLARUSSO'S?? Which is uncanny because Mom was JUST reminding me that our family used to have an ENTIRE dinner there on weekends, not just pizza-- they'd have antipasto & everything! And the memory EXISTS in tangible truth-- it simply needed that revival! AND, now that such a context IS accessible, we can FIND the memories that FIT there! I can even actually "walk around" the restaurant IN that memory now that I CAN enter it!! THIS is why it's SO IMPORTANT for us to get gutsy and FINALLY watch those family movies & study the photo albums-- and I MEAN "STUDY"!! Not just looking! We need to FEEL those photos IN ourself, and TRY to "enter" their times & places, to see what is restored, remembered, re-awakened, realized, etc. ALL our senses MUST be involved in this process of self-recovery; we're doing taste here, visuals at home, and sound (music) anywhere-- that stuff is POWERFUL for us; it's like a time machine-- the only two unpredictable ones are touch & smell, BUT those are highly specific and limited in their "exposure range." Still, we CAN "remember" a surprising amount of scents with equally surprising intensity. Touch is almost ABSENT from memory in comparison; I don't even know what a "touch memory" WOULD look like. So it's an interesting, exciting thought, the idea of investigating that-- it would be HUGE in combating depersonalization/ dissociation FROM our past AND present self, caused by DETACHING from touch input! It's something we really do have to pay more grateful attention to, with temperance!!
+ We are LEARNING to like pizza, haha! Our newfound appreciation for both bread & tomato sauce (that STILL floors me; glory be to God) helps a lot, obviously, but ironically, we're struggling with the CHEESE? First, though, let me honestly note that there is pepper in the sauce, which affects the vibe-- not sure how yet? But it seems to "ground" things directionally, & mute color saturation?? We'll see-- and I think it counts more as tomato PASTE? It's a notable darker/ less saturated Red in BOTH appearance AND vibe! So it's a little "dissonant" but not bad. BUT! The "bread" of pizza dough AND the "flour" of pasta TASTE/ VIBE DIFFERENTLY (darker/ lighter) and THAT matches the tomato differences!! It really is art. Nevertheless, on to the cheese. THAT triggers the S&V binge-trauma VERY loudly?? Which is distressing. It does NOT taste like our personal experience memories of pizza-- the closest vibe is childhood bowling alley pizza parties, and those were HISTORICALLY anxiety-riddled, as we were always just "an extra, unwanted face" amidst all our brothers' classmates, surrounded by noise & social pushing to "play," feeling totally rejected, powerless, and inept. And there was pizza. We're not sure HOW to heal those memories yet, but since we've identified them now we can work at it! Same with the recent disturbances. We NEED positive reassociation, I must emphasize. To conclude, though, I have one beautiful thing: when eating the pizza, we ate it WHOLE and in ONE DIRECTION!!! ♥ But while we were chewing the sweet, red-tinged bread, we took a sip of grape juice... and we thought of Jesus. It tasted exactly like our post-Church childhood memories of pizza & wine/ grape juice, and all His blessings... remembrance of Him. ♥ Thank You, Lord.
The SALAD, though, taught us our BIGGEST lesson. Like last time, it had two big "banana pepper" slices on top, which are EXPLICITLY a trauma trigger. Having to eat them anyway, but not wanting to be slammed by those memories & anxiety, we instinctively searched our psyche for a POSITIVE focus/ association, and when we found nothing... we IMAGINED ONE??? We thought, "yes, these are scary for us, because they were a scary person's favorite food-- BUT! THEY AREN'T the only people in the world who DO like them!!" And we imagined, a priest, who loved their sour bite, reminding him of his Italian family's cooking AND of Christ's Passion, and that one of his elderly parishioners always bought him a jar and left it on the rectory porch with a little note of well-wishes. Just... the POSSIBILITY of such a POSITIVE person/ preference/ association existing TOTALLY OVERRODE THE TRAUMA TIE with its pure affectionate human joy!! BUT you know what the REAL GAME-CHANGER was??
THOSE POSITIVE RE-ASSOCIATION IMAGININGS CAN BE MADE REAL... IN THE LEAGUE!!
THAT GIVES US SO MUCH SOLID, TANGIBLE HOPE. It WORKS and its ACHIEVABLE and we can do it ANYTIME. It literally changes everything. Oh thank You God!! It feels like we can breathe for the first time in years; it's like heavy chains have just fallen, broken, from our arms at last. There's freedom, or at least the intimately close hope and promise of it, with this now. BUT don't forget, we CAN, SHOULD, and arguably MUST STILL CREATE POSITIVE PHYSICAL/ EXTERNAL REASSOCIATIONS, TOO-- because THOSE are the ones tied to SENSORY INPUT-- these League ones are INTERNAL, and are tied to MENTAL ASSOCIATIONS as a RESULT of sensory input occurring in a traumatic PHYSIOLOGICAL environment!! BOTH INSIDE & OUTSIDE were involved in the traumatic associations; therefore, BOTH must ALSO be involved in the HEALTHY, POSITIVE RE-ASSOCIATION AND PROCESSING!!
So yes. Here, with hyperlimited physical options-- AND arguably ALSO chronic risks of FURTHER negative associations via bad/ trauma-triggering music, anxiety attacks, trivia overwhelm, unit noise scares, etc.-- we MUST constantly & consciously utilize INTERNAL re-association, ideally when in a SAFE environment (quiet, no threats of overwhelm), and with a calm mind!! BUT when we get home, THEN we can do more concrete work through healthy control of the contexts IN WHICH we revisit those "hurt" foods, to heal them on the OUTSIDE. But that's the future! Plan for it prudently, but don't obsess or overthink-- the future CANNOT be rigidly planned for. Jesus TOLD us "not to worry about tomorrow," so DON'T. The BEST prep/ "planning" we can do is DOING WHAT WE CAN TODAY, FOR TODAY, because one day the future will BE today!! Trust in God, be patient, and ACCORDING TO OUR CURRENT STATE IN LIFE, just do your best to please God in all you do. SOLI DEO GLORIA! THAT is always, ALWAYS our motivation AND our goal. Our healing is meant for HIM-- and it CAN ONLY HAPPEN THROUGH HIM AND BY HIM!! So PRAY, then listen, then obey. THAT is the foolproof, guaranteed path to recovery.

prismaticbleed: (Default)


post-breakfast//

Breakfast = cheese omelet, apple cinnamon muffin w/ butter, an ORANGE, soymilk, cinnamon tea, coffee, & 3 creamers.

+ Oranges are ONLY SCARY IN THAT THEY'RE SUPER MESSY and MUST be directly eaten WITH MESSY HANDS! There is no clean way to peel or cut OR eat an orange, haha. The juice gets EVERYWHERE. And that utter humiliation, that "piggish ineptitude" and dirtiness and mess, is SO, SO DIFFICULT for us to endure; the shame is crushing. Our only hope is in the incredible fact that the taste and association of oranges is PURELY POSITIVE & TIED TO CHILDHOOD SUMMERS!! And us, God bless us, a fiery little spark of a kid, were UNFAZED by the experience of tearing apart a fresh bright orange, gleefully biting right into that vivid color, the juice not seen as mess but of its vitality overflowing in joy. In a prayer for true humility & gratitude & acceptance, we anchored ourself INTO that memory AND state of self, and God carried us through. The whole experience was a wondrous, essential exercise in UNITING our REAL historical past, and our pure child-self, with our PRESENT self, to be HEALED & WHOLE!
A chastisement: DON'T EAT THE PEEL!! An orange isn't an apple! Biting RIGHT into it is a REJECTION of its INHERENT sectioned structure; by NOT peeling & dividing it AS IT IS SPECIALLY MADE TO ALLOW, you DENY its uniquely PROPER form and IMPOSE YOUR OWN IDEA that OPPOSES REALITY!!! Plus, orange oil DOES leave a very bitter, lingering taste/ irritation, probably because you SHOULDN'T BE EATING IT, honestly!
+ The muffin WAS A JOY, shockingly NOT scary at ALL! Even the scent was enjoyable! So whatever "anxiety" we had last week wasn't even applicable anymore today! Thanks be to God! We also had that blessing of butter to add to it today, which instantly reminded us of home, and freshly baked/ buttered ones.
+ I CANNOT GET OVER HOW GOOD THE CINNAMON TEA IS EVEN PLAIN! It's definitely our favorite. And it tastes RED! Get some for home!
+ We're still on the fence about coffee. We treasure its concept & associations & scent, BUT the taste is split-- we like the subtle bitter tone but something about it also doesn't vibe. We'll need to try again tomorrow. Still, sipping it WAS enjoyable. BTW we only took HALF a cup, then after sipping half of that, we filled the rest with soymilk. Weirdly that taste data didn't register? Probably nerves; we were anxious over "is it 'proper' or wise/ prudent to drink it WITH the muffin, or straight?" So we did both but neither registered, unsurprisingly. "Double-mindedness" is IMPURE MOTIVATION and Scripture STRONGLY warns against it! So please, PRAY and then CHOOSE. No vacillating, no fear of commitment, no perfectionism!!! TRUST THE SPIRIT!
+ The cheese omelet did trigger some significant initial anxiety, as the "kneejerk" VISUAL association is still the August binge-hell, and the Pokemon SV "Tumblr corruption" nighttime obsessiveness. Just bad vibes. BUT we can get over that. God can heal us. God alone can remove those associations and fears, and free our heart from that dread and choking regret. We DID get a preview of that hope today, because as I said, that anxiety is VISUAL-- once we taste it, it's CHILDHOOD. And we do enjoy the taste, genuinely. It has inherent salt! You can't taste the distinct yolk, but the whites are clearly detectable in the airiness. I think there might be butter in it too? Either way, the texture is so nice, and we're beginning to like that orange cheese too; it's nicer when softened by the heat & moisture of the omelet. It'll be pure joy soon enough, I'm sure. Pray for that & wait for Sunday morning!! ♥



post-group//

The art lady just said: "NOTHING IS EVER JUST ONE TONE." The light spectrum ITSELF is unitive, inherently plural in tone & harmony-- WHITE LIGHT ITSELF CONTAINS EVERY HUE IN UNITED PERFECTION!! But in OUR Spectrum, we've been forcing monochromaticism, DESPITE EVERYONE HAVING A "COMPLEMENT" IN THEIR OWN SCHEME!!! The OBVIOUS signs of this phenomenon are ANCIENT, too-- Julie NEVER had matching eyes/ hair UNTIL she moved into PINK, and EVEN THEN she kept (AND keeps!!) resonating hard with YELLOW! Laurie is INTRINSICALLY paired with RED; Razor has ALWAYS heavily carried BLACK; even the CORES have FOREVER been RED PLUS WHITE/BLACK. The examples of this phenomenon being ACTUAL BUT OVERLOOKED/ UNACKNOWLEDGED are STAGGERING and EXPLAINS WHY SO MANY "UNSURE"-HUED NOUSFONI GET MORE UNSTABLE BY TRYING TO BE MONOCHROMATIC!!! We have GOT to make an EXTENSIVE list, ASAP-- this could be the KEY to FINALLY getting the Spectrum in a NEW & PROPER working ORDER!!



post-lunch//

Ziti/ sauce/ breaded chicken/ cheese/ parmesan/ dinner roll/ butter/ grape juice/ vanilla ice cream/ tea.

+ I am SHOCKED at how genuinely enjoyable the ziti AND tomato sauce both are, especially with the parmesan (and salt & pepper, too)! Honestly, two weeks ago, ALL THREE of those ingredients TERRIFIED us. Now we're saying extra prayers of gratitude when it's on our plate! THAT'S THE WORK OF GOD. He still does miraculous healings, and we're the blessed proof, unworthy though we are. He's lifting us out of the hell of the eating disorder, ever more day by day, hour by hour even. It's so wonderful. God, thank You for the gift of hope, and for this new life, living FOR YOU. Please preserve & protect us. Please give us grace, patience, absolute trust in You, and a humble heart. Help us to heal ever more deeply.
+ The chicken parm tasted like family dinners, & was lovely. Don't even nibble the breading off separately! (We didn't "stack" the cheese either!)
+ Dinner roll & butter still perfect. Grape juice is ENJOYABLE now! Oh-- today we really paid attention & it tastes like the PEEL, too, not just the clear juice-- an obvious visual fact we still never considered! Fully tasting that & tapping memory, we found... the CHILDHOOD GARDEN GRAPES!! ♥
+ The vanilla ice cream has such an interesting & nice texture! It's not "icy" like the store-tub ones, or hard. It's nice, gently sweet and melting around the edges without getting watery. We're learning to both like and appreciate desserts, now-- and rightfully so, because remember the raisins in the OT? "Go, eat rich foods & drink sweet drinks," to rejoice in the LORD and on His holy days? He INVENTED sweetness-- or perhaps more accurately, the tangible phenomenon OF sweetness only exists because it EMANATES from Him, the SOURCE of all we consider sweet, AND the ultimate destination/ fulfillment of it. So give thanks for the desserts HE gives you! Enjoy their sweetness and let it lead you closer to Him! ♥ That is our goal with ALL our meals-- "do ALL things for the glory of God!!"



post-dinner//

grilled cheese, potato wedges w/ rosemary, ketchup, salt & pepper, peaches, & a VANILLA SHAKE 'EM UP!

+ Well, we tried again, but grilled cheese does NOT go with ketchup!! It's WAY too acidic. Now we know. Other than that misjudgment, the sandwich was a joy. It will forever make us think of grandma. ♥ Just remember-- that cheese is on THICK and the crust is CHEWY so give it time, take SMALL BITES, and DON'T RUSH!! Relax and gratefully enjoy the gift of it.
+ The potatoes are cooked in a way that preserves their moisture so they're soft and NOT STARCHY, just dense. It's SO NICE. They're perfect with just s&p, but we can't remember ketchup combo data again, probably due to anxiety over its loud vinegar bite jarring with the cheese earlier. Ah well. We'll get another shot. Still, without it, they were lovely, and yet another dear reminder of grandma.
+ Speaking of grandma... today we got PEACHES, the exact kind Cioci Ann used to buy for her in the glass bottles. Honestly, realizing that is making our heart ache in the best way. It feels like she's smiling down on us in a special way today. I love you too, grandma! ♥ For the record, peaches are "scary in concept" (TBAS) but not in experience! Canned ones have the COOLEST TEXTURE. Fresh ones do too!
+ THAT SHAKE 'EM UP HAD 31 GRAMS OF SUGAR but we said "OBEDIENCE UNTO DEATH," poured half into our tea and CHUGGED it. Courage! No time for anxiety! So that worked. We did taste about ⅓ plain and it's unusual! It's more watery than a milkshake, leans blue not yellow, but doesn't taste like the other sweet dairy because it's mostly MILK PROTEIN. So it has a slight "whey powder" flavor to it. It's not bad, but it's not something we'd pick out, as it were. It is at is is. But we WANT to be sincerely grateful for it, so next time it's an our tray we WON'T chug it, haha. We'll trust God's judgment & protection, and really experience it AS a gift. By the way-- that fear of sugar in general? Remember that WE DIDN'T GET A "SUGAR RUSH" AFTER DRINKING IT! God is good!! The protein & fat probably acted as a buffer. See? God takes care of you! So don't be afraid. "Shake OFF" your fears, and rejoice in His sweetness and strength together!!



post-snack//

Our usual Cheddar/ Salsa Sun Chip duo. For the record-- we have made SO MUCH PROGRESS here already. We eat them OUT OF THE BAG, not ripping it. We eat them WITH OUR HANDS, not a spoon. We eat them AS WHOLE CHIPS, not biting into them or crumbling them up. We DON'T OBSESS OVER CRUMBS, leaving the inevitable residue in the bag instead of trying to eat every fragment. AND... we AREN'T AFRAID OF GETTING THE CRUMBS & POWDERED CHEESE ON OUR HANDS!!! Yes it's inconvenient & uncomfortable, BUT now we can shrug it off and just... clean our hands afterwards. No guilt or shame meltdowns, just normal innocent "mess" & cleanup. It's as simple as that. But THAT is a LEGIT MIRACLE. And oh we PRAYED SO HARD for this. Oh thank You, our Good and gracious, incomprehensibly merciful and loving God!! Without You we could NEVER heal, OR be clean... but Your Son has washed us in His Blood, and now... we are free to love & worship Him, IN THIS. ♥

 


prismaticbleed: (worried)


post-breakfast//

We were hopeful & brave this morning & emulated a DINER BREAKFAST. We had COFFEE, we put KETCHUP on the eggs, AND we put SYRUP on the French Toast-- and ONLY cut it into 8 pieces! We ate like an AVERAGE JOE and it was actually really nice! Being so determined to "eat in a way that allows/ facilitates common community" made it EASIER to forgive ourselves for the (unfortunately) "inevitable" humiliations of spilling salt (don't be superstitious!!) & pepper (packets do tear), and getting ketchup & syrup on our hands (STILL a HUGE trauma trigger, BUT--) because including OURSELF in the "everyday person" group, NOT some "reject/ unusual outsider/ outlier" meant we COULDN'T hold ourself to a spotless, impeccable, pristine, undefiled, immaculate, "GOOD" but superhuman standard. We THOUGHT that perfectionism would "make us holy" by protecting/ insulating us from DIRT/ FILTH/ IMPURITY/ CONTAMINATION/ POISON, both physically & spiritually, BUT it ultimately just promoted antisocial behavior, fueled our OCD fears, and stoked the fatal fire of PRIDE. Our "separation" from "the unclean/ immoral" was a Pharisaical false ideal, utterly merciless, callous, and INHERENTLY ANTI-CHRISTIAN!!! So it MUST STOP. The only problem is that, especially with today's DIRECT experience of it, such a "slackening of standards" is felt & perceived as MORAL LAXITY, as "giving in to sin" and "boorish sloveliness." Even though we WANT to be a part of the community, our darned pride has us SCARED of "MORAL CONTAMINATION" if we associate with people who, "God forbid," watch sitcoms or read Harry Potter or admire celebrities or listen to Top 40 or who aren't afraid to spill pancake syrup on their shirt because "I'll just wash it later." They don't seem to even FATHOM the "possible threat to their integrity & purity" BY that syrup escaping its proper context, and BY that "distortion of definition"-- food ONLY exists AS food when in the PROPER context of container or containment-- it is horribly & instantly malformed, becoming DIRT, filth, mess, SIN. Syrup on your shirt means YOU destroyed its proper purpose-- YOU removed it from orderly function and CORRUPTED its very nature! YOUR STICKY SHIRT IS A PROOF OF YOUR DEPRAVITY; IT IS A PREVIEW OF HELL, WHERE ALL IS UNCLEAN!!!! So you see even further our ridiculous hypocrisy. Just like those pitiable Pharisees, we are SO afraid to admit OUR even acknowledge our OBJECTIVE sinfulness, because WE DON'T HAVE ANY HOPE OF MERCY. And that is BOTH FATAL AND UNTRUE. Christ IS Truth, and He IS MERCY!!! Yet... we are SO SCARED of the appalling DEPTH of our depravity that admitting it FEELS LIKE DAMNATION-- we are hopelessly FILTHY. We forget the Cross, the sign of salvation from the WORST of sins, provided we ADMIT & BRING & SHOW them to Christ Crucified, Who ALONE can wash us clean and TRULY PURIFY us, OVER & OVER FOREVER, through the FOUND OF MERCY of HIS PIERCED HEART, the most blessed & beautiful & PURE spring of BLOOD & WATER that flows ETERNALLY and ABUNDANTLY. Jesus doesn't care if you spill the entire bottle of syrup over yourself; GO TO HIM LIKE THAT, SHAMED & CONTRITE BUT TRUSTING IN HIS MERCY WITH ALL HOPE, and HE WILL WASH YOU COMPLETELY CLEAN!! THAT'S why He ate with sinners, with filthy gross unclean shameful prostitutes & gluttons like ourselves. He CAN & WILL HEAL THEM AND US, if His Mercy is met with hope & repentance!! And we ARE sorry, UNBEARABLY sorry, but we need HOPE. God CAN clean up even our dirt. And once we trust that, we need not despair at "inevitable ACCIDENTAL spills" anymore.
This is like the ROOT of ALL our problems here in a real sense, AND it's the STRONGEST ROOT of trauma consequence, the biggest obstacle preventing us from even LOOKING at it, let alone admitting it or coping with it. We're so terrified of the "contamination" being both SO thorough and SO heavily imposed that it is INDELIBLE, UNHEALABLE. We foolishly overestimate sin's power, but oh thank GOD to at least subconsciously know that GOD IS SOVEREIGN, EVEN OVER TRAUMA, and no matter WHAT the devil does, OR how brutally and horrifically the demons may damage you and others, THEY HAVE ALREADY LOST. Their efforts are DOOMED TO FUTILITY. Listen, sincerely-- GOD IS LOVE, LIFE, & TRUTH. Literally ANYTHING & EVERYTHING that harms/ hinders life, rejects/ distorts truth, AND/OR abuses love in ANY WAY, is OBJECTIVELY IMPERMANENT and CANNOT last forever-- unless, through free will alone, we CHOOSE to hold onto it INSTEAD of the ultimate reality of GOD-- Who IS mercy & forgiveness & peace & purity & healing & hope! THAT IS WHAT'S REAL. Yes, trauma DID happen, but it's inherently transitory BECAUSE IT'S NOT OF GOD!! So please, anchor that truth DEEP in your heart, and cling to the Cross, and even in the deepest misery you WILL find refuge & consolation & forgiveness & restoration. GOD LOVES YOU.
But... even then, my biggest fear seems to be my free will, the ONLY stamped ticket to hell. AM I choosing TO be filthy & impure, BY "relaxing" my moral standards around food?? The Holy Spirit is firmly, insistently saying "NO" in my heart. MARK 7:15-23 sums it up. AND ACTS 11:7-9!!! Literally NO food OR secular exposure can corrupt my soul-- ONLY if I CHOOSE to be wicked, licentious, covetous, deceptive, foolish, greedy, conniving, judgmental, bitter, ARROGANT, or any other sinful thing! NOTHING OUTSIDE CAN MAKE ME CHOOSE THOSE SINS. That means that ALL apparently non-sinful contexts ARE "SAFE" to an extent? Of course I MUST avoid ALL occasions AND temptations TO sin, BUT I CANNOT condemn external things FOR my sin-- ONLY my OWN moral weakness, ignorance, and confusion. Getting ketchup on my hands WON'T sent me to hell, and such "messiness" IS NOT an "external proof" of internal "corruption"; THAT'S YOUR GUILTY CONSCIENCE talking!!!
Honestly, I'm not actually afraid to eat with OR associate with other people. If I shared breakfast with someone and they dropped their whole plate on their lap, I'd HELP them clean up and REASSURE them it was okay and "NOT a problem" and I DIDN'T "think poorly of them" and I wouldn't care if I got my hands dirty, BECAUSE IT WOULD BE FROM CHARITY!!! The ONLY things I'm afraid of is my OWN "purity" being destroyed-- ALREADY a proud assumption-- BUT this example seems to suggest that, paradoxically, OTHER PEOPLE ARE PURE AND INCORRUPTIBLE??? Like even on the previous page, ALL my "contamination fears" spring from AN ALREADY 'CONTAMINATED" SELF; we were the ONLY one CAPABLE of doing the damnable things-- SEEING others "be normal/ lax in behavior" DIDN'T DAMN THEM, but was a TEMPTATION TO SIN IN OURSELVES, because if WE did those things, it WOULD REQUIRE BETRAYING OUR OWN MORAL STANDARDS, even by accident. It's hell. If I spill the syrup it's a REVELATION of my moral hypocrisy & sinful nature/ past, an uncovering of shame, a death sentence to a criminal now damned by solid evidence. I FEAR seeing others spill it because it REMINDS me of what I'm terrified of, BUT I would NEVER impute actual guilt to them. I am the sinful one. They ONLY spilled it BECAUSE of me and MY overwhelming guilt. Like, I'd IMMEDIATELY think, "oh no, now they're suffering the guilt of MY sin because I didn't confess it (properly)/ repent (truly)/ admit my own wretchedness!" And I PANIC, TERRIFIED, like the syrup itself is the guillotine looming. It's STILL EGOCENTRIC ARROGANCE!!! The CHRISTIAN thing to do would be to FORGET about myself COMPLETELY, and serve that person's needs with COMPASSION-- gentleness, consideration, mercy, kindness, patience, SELFLESS SERVICE & ATTENTIVE CONCERN!!! But you CANNOT do ANYTHING virtuous with SUCH A TORTUROUSLY GUILTY CONSCIENCE. The only hope of release is to GO TO CONFESSION, and be BRUTALLY HONEST ABOUT EVERYTHING. Put ALL that ancient horrid filth in Christ's Hands. Stop burying it in denial, stop hiding it in shame, stop denying it in despair! Doing that only PERPETUATES it, and IMPRISONS you in misery! LET GO AND LET GOD WASH YOU CLEAN IN HIS BLOOD. HE CAN AND WILL PURIFY YOU, AT LONG LAST.


Some additional breakfast notes:
+ French toast NEEDS time to chew AND CUT; the crust is super firm/ chewy. Don't rush OR crawl; be mindful.
+ Be prudent w/ syrup! Only use half the container, if that (we did). Too much is dangerous, both physically (sugar rush) and mentally (addiction), EVEN spiritually (intemperance/ indulgence)! BUT it IS proper/ allowed TO use, because it is a COMMON/ AVERAGE/ "INTENDED" combo w/ the toast, and we don't want to fear OR despise/ judge common food!
It's OKAY to "like" a food, esp. a sweet one OR other "forbidden/ morally dangerous" item. FOOD ISN'T EVIL, AND IT CANNOT CORRUPT YOU. Even syrup, eaten IN A VIRTUOUS MANNER, with gratitude to God, can be used for Good!!
+ Coffee is bitter, remember! But it's not scary. It's a FAMILY food, shockingly-- I think ONLY Diamond doesn't regularly drink it. So there is DEEP affection there, & being ABLE to now participate in that common unitive experience is a real blessing.
I don't know if we should try adding ONE sugar (plus our 2 creamers); if only to overcome that "moral judgment" we still sadly hold about sugar. Remember grandma always took 3 SUGARS, and her moral integrity was unaffected! Same to you, IF you LET GO of that condemning attitude towards GOD'S CREATION AND PEOPLE! I don't want to give ANY power to sxtrauma anymore. EVEN SUGAR IS INNOCENT. Don't force it if it's not wise/ proper/ prudent for your situation/ state/ obedience, BUT don't condemn OR fear it, either. Trust God! He rules over ALL things!!
+ Eggs + JUST ketchup = MORE CAMPER MEMORIES??? That is blowing my mind!! But it's specifically NOT the VFW OR hose company-- THOSE have the PEPPER!!! This is fascinating. And I love feeling my history as REAL again. Plain, they're ONE SUGAR PACKET AWAY from being EASTER CHEESE, pretty much! Their texture is SO LOVELY. And they taste NOTHING like an omelet! Their focus is yolk; omelets are more milk?? We'll find out. But THANKS FOR EGG, GOD



post-lunch//

NO CONDIMENTS!!! ♥ We ate the burger in ONE direction, NOT "circling" around the center, AND resisted that old compulsion to "save the (allegedly) best bit (center) for last," instead trusting God & gratefully treating/ experiencing the ENTIRE burger! It's peppery & mushroomy, with bits of carrot, bell pepper, onion, & water chestnut; it's NICE with the cheese and the texture IS good!! It is just VERY dense, and slightly rubbery, so it REQUIRES small bites & thorough chewing (~20m). We had no trouble there, again thanks to patiently trusting Jesus.
We STARTED w/ the applesauce, and got nothing but vague unease UNTIL we closed our eyes to turn OFF sensory input overrides of internal data-- and IMMEDIATELY got a powerful memory association of SUNDAY DINNERS w/ family, applesauce & pork chops on our plate, dreadfully anxious. WHAT happened at/ around family dinners that has little us SO UPSET? She's bracing for impact, almost-- waiting for "inevitable disaster" to hit. We imagined the family reassuring her, stating their love, AND promising that "if we ever DO fight, we will ALWAYS forgive & make peace after, AND we still/ always love you/ each other." She was comforted a little but not consoled? Now wanted to CRY, feeling safe enough TO do so. Reason still unknown. Not even tied TO the food; she just lost her appetite from nerves, & was sick/ miserable at the thought of being FORCED to eat it, while feeling like that. THAT'S a "POISONING" fear root-- like the chocolate milk incident!! She'd be burying/ suppressing her sadness/ fear and then SWALLOWING it down, making the APPLESAUCE a "fear food" by such explicit association! WEIRDLY the pork chops AREN'T-- or rather, THEY are only scary as a CONCEPT!! Their presence WITH the "swallowable fear" food made their future presence scary, BUT!! MEAT HAS TO BE CUT UP & CHEWED, and those "subtly violent" actions PROBABLY HELPED VENT/ EXPRESS THE FRUSTRATED ANXIETY that was otherwise being choked down without any possible resistance (i.e. chewing, cutting)!!! THAT'S HUGE. I must add, though-- the thought of being ALONE w/ grandma, at our young age, and HER "feeding" us the applesauce, ISN'T SCARY?? So there's a LOT to think upon/ feel out here!
+ THE PUDDING TASTED EXACTLY LIKE THE CREAM SAUCE GRANDMA WOULD MAKE FOR THE FLUFFY RHUBARB CAKE. Oh my goodness that meant SO MUCH to us; thank You God!! We FORGOT that was even a thing, and ALL our memories OF that dessert are, monumentally, PURELY POSITIVE!!! That is almost UNHEARD OF for food memories, especially desserts (due to shame/ fear/ guilt)!! But this one is actually joyful. And realizing the memory today, it hit us so hard... WITHOUT this EXACT identically flavored food being able to relive that memory... we could NEVER experience it again. When grandma went home to God, she took ALL her baking with her. Those lovely memories are forever past, now... or at least, literally so. But God, in His great compassion, has given us the totally unexpected & heartachingly beautiful opportunity, however small, TO touch those experiences again even now, to tangibly re-live not only our childhood but also our love-- a chance to feel it with powerfully bittersweet directness, our grief briefly but genuinely transmuted into deepest affection, illuminated by our remembrance of her brought fresh into the Now, almost as if she were still right there beside us.

A VITAL POST-LUNCH RECOVERY RISK UPDATE: REDUCE THE FLUIDS!!!
We are compulsively trying to push THREE TO FOUR entire cups of fluid WITH meals, not realizing that such liquid volume IS STILL VOLUME AND IT WILL TRIGGER THE BULIMIC PANIC RESPONSE!!!! When there is that much tangible "fullness" it sets off SO MANY TRAUMA ALARMS and we instinctively, in a survival reaction, want to GET IT OUT so we will be safe-- AND "empty." That "emptiness" is held in sharp contrast to "fullness" in an AUTONOMIC sense-- the horror of violation, and the resulting invasion/ infection from a malicious foreign body, resulting in BOTH LOSS OF SELF/ IDENTITY AND OUR SELF BEING SWALLOWED UP BY THAT VIOLATOR'S SELF. Annihilation through forced override-- a heaviness on us taking over us, suffocating & pinning us down, overriding EVERYTHING with its own weight and heft and "fullness"; it forces itself into our body, stuffing it like a parasitic wasp, and leaving us bloated and ravaged, doomed to agonizing death. I have NO idea WHERE the ultimate roots of this are. They're SO OLD. Yes there have been FAR too many "replants" of those evil seeds since the unknown beginning-- TBAS being the tragically explicit example-- but WHEN did it START? WAS there something in childhood?? The EARLIEST clear incident we can actively remember is from 2011, in the psych ward, with our roommate. She was huge, she was invasive, we were small, we were trapped & helpless. We're STILL shaking from that shock, deep down. But PRIOR to that? I have no clue. If I had to guess, I'd suspect something with Mom, unintentionally of course, as her scent STILL scares us with an unconscious but SPECIFIC fear of being smothered & trapped. This is no fear of hugs-- the paralysis is from being PINNED, or otherwise restrained. Notably, Grandpa's bigness is a threat in memory, but NOT an offender?? Like we recognize POTENTIAL for that danger in his bigness, BUT it WASN'T used to smother us ever. Actually it seems we ONLY get that fear from WOMEN??? Men would THROW their weight around, so with Grandpa we feared his utilizing that bulk in RAGE, like a snorting bull, ready to gore you with sheer brute force. We feared the strength of that weight, channeled into slams or charges or punches, or holding you down like a dying butterfly facing a pin, frantic but crushed by those iron bars he called arms. We never FELT the weight ITSELF. The threat was active, direct. But women were indirect, passive, like being locked in an oubliette with the walls closing in, the air getting heavy with noxious vapors. SHEER TERROR. BUT WHY???
In any case, STOP TRIGGERING THIS BY DRINKING SO MUCH AT ONCE!!! Cut down to ONE coffee or tea at breakfast, and ONE tea at meals that have fluids included! You CAN ask for more water, but DON'T "obligate" yourself to drowning by compulsively asking for TWO by default!! If you're still thirsty, ask for one later!!
It takes A SOLID HOUR for the panic to subside, and TWO to feel decent again!! SO PLEASE BE CAREFUL!!!

 


prismaticbleed: (shatter)


post-breakfast//

Breakfast was perfect; no scary/ trauma memory triggers AT ALL, save for some gentle flavor recollections (cream cheese & grandma, vinegar on HB egg reminder of EASTER ♥, bagel association with mom, apples & the woods outside). We GENUINELY enjoyed the entire meal. We also tried the mint green tea! Very mild taste, not overpowering. Refreshingly neutral as well; relieving.

APPLE)
We're deeply fond of them tbh; there's an inherent sweetness & purity & simplicity to them that we love-- but they are ALSO so wonderfully rich in variation, and are almost archetypal symbols of health, discernment, and gracious bounty. That last one hit home today-- our "autumn apple" HARVEST TIME fear beginning to transform: before the trees start to die, they give us SO MUCH fruit; it is created not only to propagate life for the tree, but ALSO to SPECIFICALLY nourish the creatures that EAT the fruit, AND to spread seeds in fertile ground (often THROUGH being eaten!) so that life can be PLANTED DESPITE DEATH, and TAKE ROOT DURING WINTER. I just find that concept-- that REALITY-- so beautiful. And it helps me genuinely love apples.
The "stomach hurt" from the peel GOES AWAY; it's not debilitating! Cushion with the yogurt & tea, too!
A NOTE... our TRUE fear is NOT the apple, but the "HARVEST FAIR/ FESTIVAL" and seeing apples in orange/ brown bushels & YELLOW FIELDS!!! Dude it's the FIELDS that scare us-- hay bales & corn mazes & acres of grain. Just like "out west," that visual of DRY, HOT, FLAT, featureless YELLOW is EXISTENTIALLY TERRIFYING. Even driving by them on the road makes us feel TRAPPED, HELPLESS, ALONE, and WITHOUT HOPE OR A FUTURE. Yellow fields, ironically, signify DEATH & EMPTINESS, not harvest & plentifulness.

+ Apparently we LIKE the bagel with cream cheese, which is nice actually. The texture isn't scary at ALL, it's chewy & nice!
I think MANY, if not MOST, of our "food fears" have to do with MISUSE OF FOOD: distortion & binges. Eating things normally now ISN'T SCARY AT ALL!!

CINNAMON smell is ACTUALLY A TRIGGER-- the SAME "autumn terror is here" panic signal as APPLE CINNAMON!!! (+CLOVE?? that one ALSO carries TBAS trauma, sadly)



post-group//

"DIRT," EVEN WITH ART SUPPLIES, triggers CONTAMINATION PANIC. WHY???
(+REMEMBER: sxtrauma involved hands corrupted. we also had NO BATH ACCESS in CNC/SLC.)
(dirty clothes must have old trauma. carefully feel it out?)

+ Art/ music group = TRAUMA MELTDOWN. literally punching & biting self, screaming & sobbing in bathroom. COULDN'T COPE. guitar/ singing TERRIFYING. begging "shut up please, God why won't it stop, God I can't do this, I'm so afraid". hid in room, covered ears, cried. prayed & begged God for help.
+ also got treatment plan. they said I had a "fear of death." HUMILIATED & brokenhearted FURIOUS. what kind of a Christian AM I if I'm afraid of dying???? but look at me in every damn meal. I'm TERRIFIED of being poisoned or going into anaphylaxis, or having a heart attack from sugar shock or caffeine, etc. but that's because I'm TERRIFIED OF A DIS-GRACEFUL DEATH. dying from eating is a PIG'S death, a WHORE death. dying IN SIN. good girls don't die from food. if food kills me I go to hell FOREVER, and they'll make me eat EVEN MORE there. I AM afraid of that kind of death. but otherwise? IF I die in grace, by His Mercy I can go to GOD. FOREVER. and the eating is over forever. just God. and I want that so much. God please give me grace. I know I'm a wretched sinner but I need You or I WILL die, forever. save my life, for YOUR sake, please.




post-lunch//

+ pineapple SLC "trapped here alone forever" existential dread. overcome by association with Dad cruiseship & TIARA.
+ hamburger HEALED through last week's work. immediate mcdonald's childhood memory, HAPPY now. adding KETCHUP turns it into THORNHURST cookout memories with dad, also at his house, AND apartment cookouts. some "social acceptance/ rejection" nerves but otherwise, no fear. thank God. bread itself got a bit soft; so comforting. we needed that. thank You God.
+ steamed/ buttered vegs: carrots, either green beans or something like cucumber? (crisp peel, watery. pretty cool) & zucchini/ squash. INSTANT trauma trigger fear w/ TBAS. adding salt & pepper muted it, tasted nice too. BUT thanks be to God, the actual TASTE instantly made us think of MOM. ♥ not sure why, but it was HER we remembered, NOT any trauma associations!!
chocolate milk. i literally thought i was going to die. it felt like being violated.
↑ cocoa is EXPLICITLY TIED TO ABUSE!!!!! it was like swallowing drain cleaner PLEASE dont do it again PLEASE
+ I honestly took one sip and put it down. The terror hit like a bullet. "I can't do this." RELIVING EXPLICIT ABUSE. took like ten minutes. STRONGLY considered leaving it. "self-respect," "don't betray conscience," "don't choose abuse." did NOT want to feel so WHORISH and USED. but. one single radical thought prevailed:
OBEDIENCE EVEN UNTO DEATH.
so we did. drank a bit more. almost vomited. whole body shook. put it back down. nearly gave up.

"do it for Jesus." He DIED for love of me. I can suffer this small death for love of Him.
poured the rest into the tea. drank it all. 100%. paid for it in blood.
body collapsed in nausea, terror, inability to cope. shook & rocked & trembled & dissociated for a solid hour. but survived. thanks be to God for staying with us. because He did.
we were on the cross after all.

we have GOT to heal cocoa/ chocolate in order to survive this. all we can think of currently is jade.
even writing that name makes us wants to cry & scream & vomit & die. cannot cope.

+ is there ANY positive association with cocoa or chocolate? it seems, our WHOLE LIFE, it's been terrifying.

by 4PM (4 hours later) our body feels FINE. a miracle. our mind was still profoundly disturbed, though... UNTIL we picked up our book about Jesus-- "The Master"-- and started to read. INSTANT PEACE, HOPE, & CONSOLATION, all wrapped up in Charity, despite our feeble exhaustion. we felt fresh life breathed into our soul.
thank You God. thank You God!! there is ALWAYS an end to evil. Christ HAS overcome the world!!!



post-dinner//

Dinner notes: OJ isn't scary, SUMMER is. remembering grandma gives peace. The potatoes are very plain so the herbs stand out nicely. salt & pepper ideal; ketchup ACTUALLY WORKS with these so 3 is fine! No associations. Sherbet is fine, just give it MORE TIME as it's COLD & hurts our teeth, also our stomach if we eat it too fast. It STILL needs to be "chewed." The most interesting bit was the SANDWICH. By itself, it's "affectionately neutral"? We like sandwiches as a CONCEPT, and cheese too, oddly yet admittedly, although provolone isn't our vibe AND it still has mild associated trauma echoes. Same with turkey. BUT we CAN detach from those through gratitude & forgiveness & RELEASING that into the past: "that event HAPPENED and ENDED. it CANNOT and DOES NOT affect the present." Logically at least! EMOTIONALLY, what we NEED are POSITIVE associations for both provolone & turkey lunchmeat that will OVERRIDE the negative echoes. So get/ find some! ON THAT NOTE. Our sandwich experience was SUPER INTERESTING & INFORMATIVE because Jesus gave us the GENIUS option to take our bites with sips of cranapple juice. That, by itself, is affectionately harmless-- it reminds us 100% of mom's "wassail." BUT WITH the sandwich, it tastes 100% LIKE THANKSGIVING. And at first, that was TERRIFYING. For unknown reasons that holiday has ALWAYS filled us with anxiety & dread; maybe because of the intense sensory overload/ agitated rushing of COOKING & PREPARING it?? THAT makes sense actually! And within the "harvest" context, ESPECIALLY with the aesthetic of decorations (scary colors, also pilgrim stuff) filling the kitchen, the overall tone of the DAY-- not just the dinner-- would be dreadful. We tried to heal the memory by imagining the WHOLE family eating together, HAPPY, at peace, PRAYING TOGETHER and SPECIFICALLY THANKING GOD for food & family. They ALSO told us, "you DON'T have to try everything at once, and you DON'T have to stuff yourself OR even finish your plate!" "The POINT of this huge meal is to SEE & be GRATEFUL for the sheer greatness of God's generosity; this bounty is MEANT to be put away & saved for later, for REST after harvest, and PROVISION despite the winter chill! Leftovers themselves are a huge blessing on this holiday!" That helped a LOT. But we still felt unsafe & "in trouble" & full of unease, even dread? Like nighttime-- which was falling outside as we ate in the original memories-- would be dangerous & scary, even full of fighting? AGAIN, I NOW THINK/ SENSE THAT FEAR IS ABOUT THE CLEANUP PROCESS, as mom & grandma would ALWAYS be sharp & touchy & cross & rushing & noisy then, and all the boys would just leave, not helping, just ignoring. No harmony, no more family closeness. HEAL THAT, PLEASE, MORE THAN ANYTHING. Deep down there IS true hope; when we just "let go" & taste that Thanksgiving flavor, we FEEL that deep love of family despite all anxiety. THAT LOVE WILL OVERCOME ANY FEARS; IT CANNOT BE CONQUERED. Hold on to it. Pray about it. God is Love, and He WILL heal us.



pre-snack//

To combat choice panic, we asked Mom what to get on the phone (by choosing a random color) and she said "yellow" so we're FINALLY tackling the potato chips. We're legit TERRIFIED. But they're grandpa's favorite, and Dad serves them at cookouts-- with the burgers we had for lunch! So it ties together. Be brave! Do it for them! With God's grace, do it with LOVE!!


post-snack//

POTATO CHIPS ARE NOT A FEAR FOOD??? They weren't even scary to LOOK at!! So ONLY their CONCEPT scared us-- that and the "grandpa's closet" guilt/ binge-choking terror. SO we talked with him about that, via TWO unhealthy food alters, who were forgiven AND fed, told they were loved, & cared for sincerely. "I'll never say no to you if you just ask me. I'd rather you eat if you're that hungry" etc. Girls WANTED to be good/ healthy. THEN Dad cookout; he gave us a bag AS A CS; active involvement in our recovery process with love! BUT the ACTUAL chip association memory? THE BEACH!!! Clear & joyful & sunny & GOOD YELLOW!!! That was an amazing surprise. THANKS JESUS

 


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


post-breakfast//

+ hard morning; lingering filthy feeling & depression/ despair? after last night. STILL sick. exhausted in every sense.
+ hot shower. thank You God. talking about loss of consolation (worldly) in little things; no more mouthwash = no mint "cleanness" = feel even filthier. Knowing God only removed it so I can seek UNWAVERING consolation IN HIM regardless of any circumstance: a greater & better end goal. but the process, if resisted (even unconsciously, through fear & weakness & sorrow), is disturbing: you grasp at an old, "effective" coping mechanism but it's gone. So now, DESPITE the lingering terror & distress, your ONLY viable option is to surrender & turn ENTIRELY to God. and I'll be honest with Him, I can be a petulant child about it and I am grieved over that reality. my mouth tastes like a breakfast muffin because Jesus said to eat IT last, not the eggs, and I don't understand WHY, especially since the muffin/ bread aftertaste is "DIRTY" and low-key a trauma trigger (apple cinnamon). so it's fueling the misery, adding weight to this cross. oh God, please, help me carry it, with You; alone I will be crushed quickly and die. help me.
+ no "formal" morning prayer; couldn't focus on recitation due to distress & grief. INSTEAD, strongly moved to read Saint Bridget; dual account (herself & Mary) of the Passion of Jesus Christ. Wept my eyes out. It BROKE MY ENTIRE HEART. Oh my sweet Jesus, what horrors You willingly & meekly suffered for my sins!! Oh my dearest Mother, what inconsolable anguish you bore so faithfully with Him!! I can feel it resonating painfully deep in my heart even now, an immeasurable grief endured and even embraced only through charity. Strangely, blessedly, it also gives me comfort, against all sense-- knowing Christ bears my minuscule crosses with me, and all of mine are but splinters of His. Communion.
A prayer card about that fell out of the book when I picked it up, like a calling card. "Splinters of the Cross." I cried. THERE, at last, is my consolation. Each little offering of every little pain is a blessed grace, a PARTICIPATION in that Work of Salvation, UNITED TO ITS PURPOSE AND POWER IN REALTIME. The Cross-- the crowning Work of Christ-- is eternally Real. Your negative thoughts AREN'T. There IS hope & healing, even IN AND THROUGH THE SUFFERING OF SIN.


post-breakfast meal data//

Fresh fruit cup (melons & pineapple), scrambled eggs, apple cinnamon muffin, soymilk, cinnamon tea, 2 creamer, 2 s&p, ketchup

FRUIT)
Real cut fruit! That's not scary. We LIKE honeydew actually ("moon melons"), and cantaloupe is neutral because of dear grandma. ♥ There is an underneath "fear" possibly from spoilage memories, but no "fear." Just not our central vibe. HOWEVER, the pineapple is STILL so strongly evocative of that ONE morning in SLC when we binged on pineapple with Q and I don't even know why; but we were SO SCARED & DISSOCIATED. In any case, SLC IS STILL SCARY and SO IS Q. Apparently those wounds AREN'T healed as we assumed.

EGGS)
With ketchup, salt & pepper, they DO remind us of grandpa, BUT ONLY SECONDHAND-- the primary association is "old local veterans" in general; the INSTANT memories are the LOCAL FIREHOUSE BREAKFAST and a smidge of the Thornhurst one, vague but known. The feeling is VERY COZY & SAFE; it's a solid "childhood security" vibe which is RARE. We feel QUITE young, like 7 or so. ALSO. EGGS ARE SO MUCH BETTER PLAIN. Keep them that way! The salt is getting nauseating; ONLY use one packet whenever possible. Same with pepper. Lastly, the TEXTURE is LOVELY. It's like custard! How do they do it! But it has NO data ties either way which is such a relief for our poor anxious brain; we can enjoy it purely & simply. Honestly, thank You God. The little things really are the nicest.

MUFFIN)
Neutral texture, triggering concept, SCARY flavor. Apparently, to our brain, that warm-brown "apple cinnamon" FUSION taste-- inherently so; it's NOT "apple + cinnamon", but its OWN unique thing-- elicits DREAD & shaking anxiety. (The Nutrigrain does it too! We've been wondering!) We cannot find the roots yet, nor can we identify the "apple" flavor (it doesn't match anything apparent in our apple-presentation data roll), BUT we wondered why the flavor = dread, and suddenly realized: APPLE-CINNAMON IS A SEASONAL FLAVOR, TIED TO TIME. When it historically would occur, it would do so ALONG WITH OTHER SEASONAL THINGS THAT WERE TERRIFYING, so over tie, the "appearance" of apple-cinnamon flavor became a WARNING SIREN, TO PREPARE FOR IMPENDING DANGERS THAT ONLY OCCURRED DURING THE SAME SEASONAL TIME PERIOD!!! This concept is ALSO why peppermint is SO safe: when IT appears, apple-cinnamon DISAPPEARS, and therefore the time of threat is OVER. They are like checkpoints or fences? Chronological markers. But apple-cinnamon therefore WARNS of UNAVOIDABLE, ATTACHED DANGER: of county fairs, hay rides, harvest festivals, corn mazes, haunted houses, jumpscares, scary movies, and Halloween. TONS of frightening things to us as a child occurred in the fall; plus THANKSGIVING & pilgrims & that loathsome orange/ yellow/ brown/ vermillion (NOT RED!!) color scheme everywhere that hurts our brain and has scared us SINCE CHILDHOOD, always inexplicably. We WANT to heal it but it's SO ANCIENT, with hidden roots. Nevertheless, we'll keep working on it as autumn (which starts today!! ♥) settles in around us in realtime, and our psyche reacts to the process & presentation. A NOTE: we actually love the "darker" autumn aesthetic that incorporates EVERGREEN & MISTY GRAY & BURGUNDY along with the neutral browns, glowing golds, & rich vermilions. It feels more like the woods, & season kissing season with the blessed promise of winter in the colder crisper silver air. But just straight-up orange/ yellow/ brown feels like hell & floods us with genuine DREAD.
Something we realized, with these "time-locked" triggers: SUMMER APPLES ARE SAFE. AUTUMN ONES ARE NOT??? The latter are too closely tied to FARMS and some unidentified terror from picking/ eating apples in the backyard? But yes; this ALSO relates to APPLE PREP/ FLAVORS-- summer apples are fresh, bright, clear, juicy, etc.-- autumn apples are warmed/ cooked and more mellow? And summer apples typically have NO spice. Summer leans GREEN, autumn leans BROWN.



post-lunch//

Ziti with sauce & parmesan, breaded chicken w/ provolone? apple & grape juice, 2 tea 2 creamer, 1 salt 2 pepper

ZITI)
it had the SOFTEST texture AND EVEN TASTED SAFE!!
VFW dinners. Surprisingly, TOTALLY SAFE! Ziti shape is oddly "harmless" & comforting? Possibly from church/ school associations from of old. That actually gives us GREAT HOPE: like the hose-company eggs, this foods reminds us of home & neighbors, that sense of small town community & fondness that our heart honestly craves and wants SO BADLY to be PART of again. Well, tasting AND eating that blessedly "common food" NOW feels like a glowing promise that we CAN be part of that communion now, when we go home to our hometown.

JUICE)
Grape is foamy & surprisingly tart! It's in a weird place, both scary AND positive-- its "good" memories are vague & conceptual (Christmas "wine" as a kid, mainly), but legit? Yet it WAS a binge/ abuse food, too. Still, GRAPES = JESUS so there's GUARANTEED healing whenever we remember that!
Apple didn't register; we CAN'T LOOK AT IT or that INCREASES trauma terror, MORESO THAN THE TASTE!!! There is a LOT of memory-fear there. Pray to Jesus for help with that. Trust Him & remember, TRAUMA & ABUSE ARE ULTIMATELY INCAPABLE OF REAL CORRUPTION. The God-created core is pure.

SAUCE)

The "dried tomato" flavor is DIFFERENT enough from memory to muffle/ allay most trauma responses, BUT it's still a little anxiety-inducing; not as much as it used to be, though? I hope! Pray for that, please. Mom & Lou (and grandpa) really enjoy their tomatoes and honestly it breaks my heart that I've been to terrified to JOIN them in that yet. THAT'S what I hate the MOST about this eating disorder-- it puts WALLS up between me and ALL other people... AND between me & total devotion to GOD, which INCLUDES love of neighbor! So eat the tomatoes and GIVE THANKS for communion!!

CHICKEN)
The best one so far, shockingly, ESPECIALLY since SAUCE IS SAFE WITH CHICKEN PARM, NOT PASTA?? That's fascinating. No particular memory but associated solid longterm & fondly with our dear mom. The breading was so nice. We had a few odd bites BUT avoided actually eating it separately or mincing the chicken. Unfortunately we did mostly eat the sauce off, and "stacked" the cheese bits. Don't do stuff like that, it's silly! And of course, it's apparently disordered. Please, learn to lovingly eat things as a PROPER UNITED WHOLE, just as God presents them to you!!

CHEESE)
Parmesan is, thankfully, still safe to taste, due solely to heavy childhood meal resonance. USING it is scary as we fear a return migraine, but none have happened yet-- it might only occur with actual hard cheese. The slice on the chicken seemed to be provolone, which unfortunately IS still trauma-touched, from TBAS. That trauma is HARD to heal as the roots are so strong, and the fear equally so. TBAS trauma foods feel like eating poison. But, we put that thought bravely aside & reminded ourself, THEIR actions DO NOT define reality! They AREN'T the authority over our life! Lastly... grandpa liked chicken parm. HE liked provolone cheese, so we held to love of him instead and that got us TRULY through, safely.



post-dinner//

grilled cheese! / rosemary potatoes /  whole milk / 2 ketchup / 2 salt / 3 pepper / 2 creamers 2 teas

MILK)
(we don't know who the heck keeps writing these but they are explicitly disturbing. hidden for safety.) )

POTATOES)
Home fries style! Those AREN'T SCARY; both their texture & taste are positively comforting, and with the ketchup we get SOLID MEMORY of the THORNHURST HOSE COMPANY! So the POTATOES have that one, moreso than the eggs! That's cool. But yes, we enjoyed them thoroughly. HOWEVER. Potatoes = OUR LADY OF LA SALETTE, who earnestly implored us to honor the Sabbath, although "taking a day of rest for God" seemed like "a small thing," not matching its momentous true significance. BUT it's the sign of the Covenant, a MANDATE from GOD HIMSELF if "nothing else"; a total conscious visible active sign & sacrament that SEPARATES us from the industry-idolatry of the world and making work a "god," turning us regularly & ever more strongly to the ONE TRUE GOD by prayer & worship & peace. He mandated it FOR US, for our spiritual health, bodily refreshment, and TOTAL JOY! So no, it is NOT small; it is VERY BIG! And it "costs" nothing but CHARITY. So honor it ever more sincerely & totally! Leave the world behind and focus on HEAVEN, our origin and goal and TRUE HOMELAND. If I don't... well. Hence the reminder of the potatoes. I MUST, for God.
LASTLY. When God gives you food direction, OBEY HIM, even if it seems "inconsequential" or odd-- that's the purpose of FAITH!! We didn't leave enough ketchup for the grilled cheese (we kept dipping potatoes in it) & took the garbage to shamefully get more. We're truly sorry. Disobedience only hurts!
DON'T TAKE ANY ITEMS OUT OF THE GARBAGE PILE TO "GET MORE OUT," like ketchup & creamer. That is SUPER gross and makes us feel like an animal. Respect yourself! Be dignified!

GRILLED CHEESE)
WONDERFUL AS ALWAYS. We can't deny, we do enjoy them so much, even with the odd orange cheese. No complaints! It was truly lovely. It would have been lovelier with ketchup, judging from the one bite we got, but we messed up today ↑ so we lost out. Yet it STILL worked out, by God's grace-- we were humbled & taught a very important correction of behavior, we were given a preview of what we can have next time when we DO obey, and we were given the key initial opportunity to just purely & simply enjoy & experience the sandwich as-is. Grilled cheese will always remind us of grandma. We cut ours into triangles, too, just for her. ♥ ...I've actually been dreaming about her every night since I'm here, and caring for her, loving her, remembering her. I know she's watching over me & praying for me & loving me, too. ♥ I'll continue to do my very best, for her, and for her daughter, my dear mother. All together, with God guiding us in His love, we'll get through this!!



A VITAL REALIZATION: WE STILL GET CLOCK-BASED TRAUMA!!!
When the sun goes down around 7PM-8PM, but people are awake & watching TV & talking & "preparing to DO things" instead of sleeping, WE FEEL TOTAL DREAD. THAT WAS THE DANGER-TIME CONTEXT IN CNC, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT!!! So YES we are going to get anxiety attacks & feelings of impending doom & despair & terror at night! It's a learned response to a VERY emphasized & consistent trigger! YES we are shaking & nauseous & scared & want to cry like a lost child BECAUSE NOW WE CAN EXPRESS THAT FEAR WE BURIED AND DENIED AS THE FORMATIVE TRAUMA EVENTS WERE OCCURRING. Honestly though, the fact that we CAN and ARE sharing a FEAR response is a DOOR TO HEALING, because it is NOT IN DENIAL!! It clearly indicates that there IS trauma, and we DIDN'T WANT IT TO HAPPEN. It reveals that there IS a wound, and points to it. So be aware of the chronic, unavoidable trigger, and prudently prepare to face it, with the grace & peace of Christ!!
A GREAT way to override that negative association is to instead consciously focus on a super positive one that ALSO has deep, repeated roots-- staying up late & "waiting" awake on HOLY SATURDAY & CHRISTMAS EVE! ♥ So anchor your heart in THOSE, and let God soothe your anxieties.



post-snack//

Cheddar Sun Chips / Bengal spice tea with 2 creamer

Remaining troubles to fix:
Ripping open the bag!!
+ Oversqueezing the tea bag
+ Licking our fingers
+ Shoving whole chip in mouth?
+ Obsessive crumb eating
+ ↑ using a SPOON to do so
+ "must ONLY eat crumbs first"

★ Cheese itself feels dirty; negative "spoiled milk" vibe?? Milk = dirty misbelief in any case; healing that straight, but cheese hasn't been affected OR directly tackled (yet!).
We feel like a RAT eating it-- not a little mouse, but a fat sewer rat!!
It's VERY difficult to "stay human" in our mental image as we eat it, because of that intense dirty feeling. The ONLY nousfoni who gets PULLED out is that long-haired messy teen, unwashed & manic, who eats with her fingers & GOBBLES things. SHE'S A BINGER!!! Which PROVES the "I'm out of control = I'm not worthy of humanity = I'm a filthy animal" thought train there, sadly. That poor girl with unwashed hair & pockmarked face (and SCHOOL CLOTHES??) is a vital snapshot of some VERY old & unfortunately powerful toxic core beliefs.

Perhaps try the cheddar chips once more? Not tomorrow; give it a mental break to refresh & try again clearly. But SOON. In the meantime, focus on:
(1) healing CHEESE
(2) investigating the "DIRTY" terror?
(3) DON'T RIP BAGS!!!
(4) FIND someone who CAN eat cheese?

THE "FILTHY" FEELING IS ONLY TIED TO ORANGE CHEESE???
White/yellow cheese can be humiliating, & their aftertaste triggers the "baby spit-up" fear, BUT THEY DON'T FEEL "DIRTY!" That's fascinating.
do OTHER orange foods do this? does COLOR affect our reactions TO "dirt" labelling of foods?? as opposed to just "WE'RE dirty for dropping/ spilling" in general?



prismaticbleed: (worried)

post-breakfast//

Good morning beloveds! Let's start today on a solid good note: Breakfast accomplished a LOT today. We got an EGG! (Shoutout to Elsa, haha) Also a bagel & cream cheese, something totally unexpected but perfect for increasing our empathy for others, so to speak. Lots of people enjoy bagels, including our dear brothers, but we've always feared them, due to their intensely dense & doughy texture (dense foods "scare" us a lot; we need to discover the root cause/s of that). Cream cheese, too, is very dense, so we avoided it-- although someone inside that we can't yet identify did have a noted fondness for it; again, we're not sure why. Most likely it's an association with childhood and/or grandma; I feel strong resonance there. But I digress; that's all the accessible information we have right now, as more is only revealed/ discoverable WHILE eating due to the direct sensory input. We weren't aware that cream cheese needed to be delved into as we ate it today. However, it would have been both imprudent & presumptuous to try-- the first "new" exposure to a food on the unit MUST be entirely receptive. We never know what it will trigger, what it will remind us of, what its synaesthetic palette is, what its texture is, etc. There's a LOT of sheer data coming in, all within a distracting, noisy environment AND while under time constraints. So we must be respectful of our own poor brain's mental capacity! One task at a time, and food exposure #1 must always prioritize what we RECEIVE, purely and unreservedly. Jesus WILL and DOES help us with this! He's the ONLY reason breakfast went so well today-- we talked to Him and followed His loving direction the entire time. YES, HE LOVES US and CARES ABOUT OUR HEALTH AND HEALING! He will NEVER belittle or mock or scorn us. He will NEVER laugh at our "unusual" recovery efforts, like gathering food data & memory managing, because HE MADE US and He KNOWS & UNDERSTANDS US and He will SUPPORT, BLESS, PURIFY, and STRENGTHEN those very efforts FOR HIS SAKE, because HE IS Life and Love and Hope, LITERALLY. So, it is His very nature to inspire & promote & protect & sustain those virtues, AND literally every other virtue. You cannot go wrong when you are walking with Him; He MADE both you and the path of life you are traveling. It is GOD Who controls the world and guides your destiny; that truth is the DEEPEST comfort & joy!! He holds it ALL in His Hands, forever, and He cannot ever be overcome or shaken. His sovereign reign is sure. But, in a terrifying paradox, through our free will, we CAN resist it. That's the foundation of hell. DON'T GO THERE. Go where Jesus leads instead-- the Way of the Cross, of charity & joyfully willing obedience even unto death!!
Now. As for our healing. We also got soymilk. And we sipped it slow & dived in to meet that girl. She's NOT Hoban-- Hoban is similarly depressed, but more distantly, and she is LOCKED ENVIRONMENTALLY into the school she's named for! That revealed to us, shockingly so, that this soymilk girl IS TOO. She's aware that she has to go to school, and go to work, BUT SHE DOESN'T. That's a MASSIVE revelation! She is, specifically, LOCKED INTO THE KITCHEN. We honestly didn't realize that SPATIAL ENVIRONMENT LOCKS were a thing, but now that we do, they explain SO MUCH of social function splitting-- it's the same reason why we can't pass through doorframes or windows in dreams. Every marked "division" of space with a "portal" like that FORCES a context shift, and rightly so!! And nousfoni, being hyperspecialized by nature, CANNOT preserve function integrity upon such a shift; they MUST SWITCH AS WELL. That fact opens up SO much potential for memory unlocking & Spectrum discovery, because it means that EACH space WILL be exclusive, and all its anchored nousfoni will ALSO be as exclusive: kitchen nousfoni CANNOT survive properly outside the kitchen, and ALL kitchen memories/ triggers/ vibes/ etc. WILL be tied TO one of such nousfoni-- who should ALL be, inevitably, SOCIALS. Their Spectrum has GOT to be a LOT bigger than it originally was assumed to be as a result-- it's not just Brown! Heck, we think now that Brown's entire function ITSELF has changed-- it MIGHT even now be mapped as a SUBTONE BANK like Pastels??? We are SO EXCITED to discover more about this as God reveals it to us. We have real hope for healing with this. But yes! The soymilk girl is locked into the kitchen spatially, BUT she STILL experiences the COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGICAL AMBIENCE, another "new" Social phenomenon that is explaining so much. What that means for her specifically-- and especially, as she is the one who revealed this phenomenon to us THROUGH her experience of it-- is that although she personally may not-- and indeed will NEVER-- experience school or work or even abuse, WE ALL SHARE A BRAIN AND A BODY AND THAT AFFECTS ALL OF US. So SHE WAS FEELING THE PSYCHO-EMOTIONAL AMBIENCE OF HER FELLOW SOCIALS-- notably the ones in the most immediate context to her: our school Socials and our job Socials. She felt THEIR dread & depression & exhaustion, as if it were in the very air. She was haunted by their ghosts, and her heart ached in unconscious communion with theirs. And now, tapping into her memorysphere, WE felt it too. It was honestly shocking. There she was, in the early morning, the dawn still indigo blue outside, the kitchen stove light on & dim. She stood in front of the microwave, pouring vanilla soymilk into a bowl of cornflakes. But she wasn't physically alone, which blew our mind. Anchored just as solidly in that memory was OUR DAD, sitting at the bar & watching the morning news. He's eating something, but only conceptually-- we can't see it. He seems upset, depressed. So are we. His presence alone is a MASSIVE milestone, as it is PROOF that this memory is in 2007!! Which, also, is a shock-- we timestamp the Spectrum's birth/ awakening as 2008, yes, BUT!! APPARENTLY THE SOCIALS EXISTED MUCH EARLIER & WE NEVER KNEW. So yeah. Proof of a long-suspected truth. Nevertheless, that wasn't our goal or the point of visiting her today. We met her there to share her pain, to know & understand it, to show her TANGIBLY that she was SEEN & LOVED & CARED FOR & SUPPORTED, that she wasn't alone-- ever-- and that it was possible to heal, at last, together. So we stood with her & felt her pain together and THAT is what taught us everything I just wrote about. THAT alone is a huge revelation: that such astronomically vital revelations could, do, and will come from pure compassion. And that sharing of self & scars, that communion across chronospheres, was miraculous as well-- it planted genuine seeds of hope in her heart, soothed her misery, gave her hope, and broke the barriers of her spatial-lock to allow us in. All of our hearts opened up from this effort. Now we UNDERSTAND her context and WHY her memory-triggers hurt so melancholocally. They still ache, yes, but now it's bittersweet; now there's hope, the knowledge that her limited existence (until now!) HAS a purpose, HAS a future, HAS its proper and vital place in the Spectrum's history as a whole. And she can live, knowing that the soymilk isn't al there is. That's... so, so important. I wonder how it will change tomorrow, that food data? And what it will feel like when it heals? ALSO!! What about multiple resonances? We get that with a LOT of other foods, especially childhood ones... BUT we've never known all this about the Socials before. THEY'VE never known that they are part of a "WE" before. They don't know that their chronospheres are PERMEABLE by love, or that their lives have PURPOSE and CAN continue NOW. What I'm trying to say is: even IF we find other nousfoni tied to soymilk in experiential memories, they don't know us OR EACH OTHER. ...Yet. What IF they met each other? Could they? SHOULD they? It's a massive new world of possibility for both healing & integration (of our shattered past) that we MUST pray about. That is, arguably, the MOST important step to take in this entire process: we must pray. Always & everywhere, before & during & about everything, we NEED to pray, because the SOLE source of ALL success-- AND healing AND wisdom AND love-- is GOD. HE must be our ultimate goal & guide in this entire process. Please, remember that. We exist FOR HIM, not us. Soli Deo Gloria, amen.


post-lunch//



This one was an ADVENTURE, and ANOTHER milestone. I want to write about it thoroughly enough without exhausting myself, so we might resort to archivist datalogging instead of "journalist" wordiness. Here's the basics: we got a hamburger & whole milk, w/ ketchup & relish, 2 teas & 2 creamers, salt & pepper. Now of course a burger-- being such a common American & childhood food-- is GUARANTEED to carry multiple resonances. And it did-- VERY unexpected ones, tied to different textures & flavors within the same meal! Which is FASCINATING. That's why we like to stick to solo-ingredient consumption: mixing those data input triggers can be absolutely overwhelming, both mentally & emotionally-- or, it cancels itself out into empty noise. Both are horrible. But yes. The memories/ resonances this burger revealed to us were very educational & informative, but most importantly, we were able to IMMEDIATELY jump into them and do SIGNIFICANT healing IN REAL TIME-- well, within their chronospheres & resospheres, of course. But it was HUGE. The resonances we got were:
1) McDonalds birthday party burger. 9-10-11 age? Conglomerate? Upset by noise, rushing, kids partying & her left alone, expectations. She was so anxious. Wanted: to explore the playzone imaginatively, to eat & enjoy her burger at her own pace but also in community, to not feel rushed to open gifts or eat, to not feel trapped far from home, to not feel like she had to perform, for the other kids to share her interests & enjoy her company & all respect each other, for the acknowledgement of God in even that context. // What we did to meet her needs & heal the stress: everyone sat together & prayerfully, slowly, quietly ate, no one with any time limit; moved it to a local McDonalds; other kids also interested in joining & respecting her imaginative play directions as the leader; other kids interested in Pokemon & Tamagotchis & similar likes, and gave them as gifts, all playing & talking together WITHOUT noise or mania; everyone thanked God for meal & company.
2) Dad cooking burgers on the grill: Thornhurst & the "sunfish lake"; latter possibly an artificially constructed "concept memory", not literally real. No trauma, but still lingering "Dad isn't truly happy and I'm nervous/ guilty/ upset about it." That needs to be healed in future. "Fishing" construct tied to the HAT he wore = relish flavor?
3) Grandpa eating on porch; food not seen but anchored to the relish. Memories of pickle/ bologna sandwiches ("from the army") eaten there causing the resonance. The hat grandpa wore tied into previous vibescape. No trauma, no negativity. We don't "like" relish but he LOVED pickles, which we forgot! Tap into that next time; learn to like.
4) Grandma giving us dinner at kitchen bar. Ketchup & beef; hamburg patty. We were very anxious. Why? Just the kitchen?


LUNCH NOTES =
Oliver/ KN healing affected ALL other perceptions.
"They said I would hurt them" self-pity/ loathing loop
BUT "I don't want to be a dog"
AND mother trouble; self-giving never experienced;
Carnivore coping, weeping over cow giving milk/ meat,
"someone wants me to live/ cares for me so much they would give me THEMSELVES to eat"
no longer have to be a predator to survive
oliver & bloody meat = heart/ life connection corruption
SECRET EUCHARIST DESIRE!!
eating meat = compromise for lack of meaningful personal communion

+ Jesus "disobedience" teaching trick; we didn't ask permission for condiments
TRUTH = "Your free will & My plan for you are meant to COOPERATE, never overriding one another. Your picking ketchup will not send you to hell, nor will it frustrate My perfect plans for you. I work WITH you, & you with Me."

- Don't like the relish BUT it keeps resonating with grandpa = he LOVED to eat pickles, remember?? He's tied to ketchup too; he always ate tomato saucy stuff. Love you grandpa!!

+ Milk "smells like a nursery" = "smells like a MOTHER"; still TERRIFYING on some level??? BIG trauma trigger yet. We actually CANNOT overlay a "motherly figure", all those curves. It's one of our few remaining solid terrors, possibly because motherhood is INHERENTLY tied to sex. That topic is still buried & barred-off.


post-dinner//



"WHAT DOESN'T CHALLENGE YOU WILL NOT CHANGE YOU."

This one was rough SOLELY because we overwhelmed ourself beforehand, & disobeyed internal instructions during. It was humbling. But, it is only through humility & brokenness that we CAN truly grow into better people. GOD is the One Who disciplines & corrects us. Take heart.
Lessons we must learn from this:
+ We only have so much emotional & social energy/ "spoons." Obsessive journaling and extensive talking/ socializing quickly causes BURNOUT.
+ We had to unearth & disclose a LOT of trauma data today, and DIDN'T RECUPERATE. Instead we went to 2 successive groups, depleting our mental reserves & further exacerbating trauma symptoms, like dissociation & compulsive people-pleasing & manic threats. It was lethal to our internal well-being. When trauma is triggered, TAKE TIME TO COPE!!! NO SOCIALIZING. NO EXCEPTIONS. Staying externally oriented PREVENTS recovery & processing. We MUST go inside to calm down & PRAY until we are back in a safe space again.
+ When you get an external synchronistic warning, LISTEN TO IT. The devil's number was on BOTH Bingo cards-- so why didn't you STOP???
+ When you get an internal direction about a meal, LISTEN TO IT!!! We had a turkey sandwich, rosemary potatoes, & grape juice. The direction CLEARLY & REPEATEDLY told us to eat the sandwich first, but we stupidly argued our way out of it, claiming it would be "better enjoyed eaten last," and did so against orders. And WE WERE VERY WRONG. We forgot that eating potatoes solo gives us a GLUCOSE SPIKE, causing horrific anxiety attacks & tremors. Eating the sandwich first would've helped prevent that w/ the protein & fat. God, forgive our foolish & proud resistance to You!!
+ Due to mental overload, we began 5 minutes late as we were dissociating, which ALSO destroyed our first 5 minuts of meal data because our addled brain TUNED OUT and was smothering conscious input by listening to the trivia & stories. And there's NOTHING INHERENTLY WRONG with those things-- it was actually really sweet to be able to hear everyone openly sharing parts of their lives, talking about education & family & music, geography & psychology & art & work & babies! And the trivia itself is actually an opportunity for gratitude to God by the same token-- it is little bits of data about this wondrous world God created & our collective human experience, both of which God protects & sustains & guides & directs. So each trivium CAN be prayerfully used as a spark for praise, IF we aren't wickledly judgmental & proud!! BUT. There is a time & a place. When we begin a meal, whether or not we detect dissociation, our attention MUST BE CONSCIOUSLY FIXED ON CHRIST. Say grace MINDFULLY, talking TO Him, NOT at or about Him only. And then ASK HIM TO GUIDE & HELP US. Then LISTEN to His loving response and OBEY HIS DIRECTION!!! He can only lead you on the BEST path!!!
+ Because of that dissociation, we blacked out ALL the ketchup & potato data. When we realized this, we panicked & asked GRANDPA for help INSTEAD OF JESUS at first. We noticed that too & were deeply ashamed. But God bless Grandpa; his response WAS to direct me TO Jesus instead, and I did, humbly & instantly.
+ We had MORAL PANIC over our rebellious potato mistake, plus the ketchup void mistake. As I mentioned, it triggered a GENUINE ANXIETY ATTACK. We felt like we had done something truly disgusting & meriting of shame & sharp chastisement, something we were awfully ashamed of & could not fix. ...but. We brought this fear to Jesus. We confessed our failure & begged His help & peace. And do you know what He said? "Do you see? Through humble repentance & trust in My mercy & love, I can transform even this mistake into an opportunity for us to grow even closer, and to teach you important lessons you could not have learned otherwise."
When the panic hit, the bulimia symptoms returned. That was TERRIFYING, but I am still thanking God for it, BECAUSE it revealed a breach in the wall-- a chink in our armor, as it were. We assumed, rather immaturely, that if we just "changed spatial context" we'd be fine. NOPE! AMBIENT PAIN! We just learned that today, though, but this was CONFIRMING PROOF nevertheless. One misstep, one trigger, ONE taste of our collective ache, and no matter WHO is up front, if we aren't healed enough-- which we aren't yet-- THEY WILL SWITCH OUT FOR AN UNSTABLE PAIN HOLDER. So when we panicked over food, the IMMEDIATE physiological reaction was, "we made a mistake in eating this, therefore it is WRONG, therefore it counts as POISON, therefore it will HURT US SEVERELY/ UNFIXABLY, therefore IN ORDER TO BOTH SURVIVE & ATONE, WE MUST VOMIT IT OUT OF OUR BODY. THEN we'll be safe." And our body PREPARES to! It's actually INSTINCTIVE by now, especially since it's tied to survival fear. The feeling is horrible. But the point is: IT HAPPENED. Even here, in recovery, it CAN AND WILL AND DID HAPPEN. We're not perfect or impervious. BUT GOD LET THIS HAPPEN FOR THAT VERY REASON. We needed to be greatly humbled in order to gain wisdom. We needed to harshly experience our weakness in order to be prepared for & respectful of it, AND to realize & acknowledge our GREAT NEED OF GOD. We MUST rely on HIM for healing, NOT ourselves!! Without Him we are absolutely powerless and WILL fail. It's inevitable; humans are BUILT to need God & cooperate meekly & trustingly with Him. Life is infinitely more beautiful & joyful that way.
+ We begged Jesus for peace. Admitting our sin, we prayed for His forgiveness & consolation, and implored His help with the sandwich. HE HELPED & FORGAVE. Never doubt His Goodness & Mercy towards poor foolish sinners like us!! He STILL seeks out EVERY lost sheep!!
+ HOWEVER. He didn't take away all the panic, as it still needed to serve a purpose: we needed to practice trusting Him DESPITE symptoms. "But I have overcome the world." And we WERE trusting, becoming genuinely able to enjoy & perceive the sandwich & feel deep gratitude to Him for it, feeling a spark of true joy amidst panic... but we, obviously, didn't trust enough. Our symptoms threw us off & we doubted His directions AGAIN.
+ ...We realized just how disordered dear sweet Iscah actually was, because ALL HER DISORDERED BEHAVIORS KICKED IN. Honestly, with the anxiety trigger-fall, we FORGOT that she used to drink hot sauce & creamer (from the packets!), pick sandwiches apart, lick plates & wrappers, eat tea bags, and obsess over sheer data collection. But ALL OF THAT KICKED BACK IN immediately! And Jesus WARNED us, "don't do it!!" but we were too fuzzy-brained to really listen and we pulled apart the sandwich. Just the last bit, but we felt HORRIBLE, crushed by shame. That, too, was a needed lesson.
+ Some foods DON'T have attached trauma, or attached memory. THAT IS FINE & GOOD. DON'T FORCE ANY!!!
+ BUT so far ALL foods have attached resonance, AND require some sort of healing. DO SO WITH CHRIST; alone we'll fail.
+ DO NOT FORCE OR COERCE SUCH REVELATIONS. YOU CANNOT GET TRUTH BY FORCE. Be patient. It WILL come, in God's perfect timing-- when we're ready, AND as we're ready for. Trust Him, be grateful, & PAY ATTENTION!!!
+ Also, proof of His trustworthiness & love? He USED the postmeal "potato fatigue" to give us BRAIN RESET DOWNTIME. That's the TOTAL peace we prayed for!! GOD IS ALWAYS, ALWAYS GOOD!!!







123017

Dec. 30th, 2017 11:04 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

1230. saturday.

today lasted like... five years, what the heck
i apologize for this mess of an entry as a result but it really was ALL ONE DAY

morning run. YES THAT WAS TODAY.
830AM NOTES on that =

Sunrise, pink and cold and beautiful.
Genesis running alongside us at first, making sure we were ok.
Talking to Laurie, lucky penny comment. Then FOUND one
Food lion. Her whistling for attention at reduced rack, check our focus.
Got called SIR on the way out!
Had a dollar left, went to gas station
Penny in lot
Decided we wanted a TAMALE
Sweet old dude paid for it for us!
So we got Wreckage a DONUT
Walking home: "Ahrima?" Laurie, Wreckage, Jeremiah, Maverick
Minty seeing the rocker bunny on the track, torn
Church & breakfast plans. Mav & Wrex talking colors. Echo Lalia there too, no voice of her own readily?
So so happy.
NEED to do this regularly.


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

THIS EVENING =

eating trouble.
we made two omelettes for dinner, and then a night meal, BUT. we realized the trouble here.
1. still seeing food as art. didn't WANT to make two. but DID want to MAKE SOMETHING.
2. so many different people fronting.

we think "taureia" is the name of that DAEMON???
tied to the girl who ONLY comes out to binge in order to purge; triggered by fear. she's a failsafe???

versus rupture.


Blue girl = COMPULSION W/ fam expectations??
Food, grandkids, etc. PANICKED obedience, forced, utter denial of any self-honesty


noticed today, the girl angry at murphy is NOT the angry brown jess OR triple
she's MENTIONED IN 2015 i think.

"i'm not a good nousfoni"


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

AMOR ET SACRIFICIUM = ribbons!!!!!!
SELF LUMINOUS

Formshift cores, like jewels. EXPLORE.
Apprenticeship, heartspace, leaguespace, outspace
OUR "NEODYMIUM"

"SXUALITY" COLORS. from old entries. different vibes & applications, never explained.
black, red, pink, Cerise. ORANGE?
FEEL OUT AND DESCRIBE

HEART TOUCHES ARE SAFE AND HOLY AGAIN!!!
(YOU NOT DISCONNECTED)


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

the heaviest thing today = talking about sxuallity with the arrows, on messenger.
our moral stance + daemons + trauma, and their innocent human painless experience.
both of us discussing childhood with this.

trigger warning for discussion of sexual topics, including abuse/trauma



what we remember offhand:


Childhood= baths with brother, anatomy difference. Naturally fascinated by difference, parents would NOT talk about this. Passively treated us like a threat to them.
We were weirdly obsessed for a while? Bizarrely, NO conception of our own bodies femaleness? Not sure why.
Obsessed with this???

Childlike gender thoughts: girls wore pink ribbons or had eyelashes, boys didn't.

When did the Julie trauma start?
It has SUPER EARLY ROOTS.

First direct instance: in that godforsaken bathroom, age 12, 13? Feel SO young, but not a child. Remembering, with great fear, hearing Someone talking about how "sex is the best feeling" or something? Praising it as this sublime thing. Terrified, tentatively touched our body there. Immediate sensation shocked and shook us. Nearly cried from this "betrayal," quickly reclothed, thinking "how could Anyone want That," tore door open and immediately memory blacks out. I assume we hid in our room and shook and cried, felt existentially wrecked. No idea Who holds that, but I know they exist.

No clear memory of When Julie started, but l Clear memory of Fearing her. Leaving 6th grade classroom, mentally JEWEL, dreamspace situation to cope with/ feel & reason out fearful situation possibilities. Imagining being in some public place like a restaurant or bar, but in a side hall where we couldn't be seen, felt isolated and trapped? Cerise intimate vibe but Corrupt. Guys AND girls (ratio??) trying to "get with us." NOTABLE ABUSIVE MANNERISMS. We had NO conception of healthy flirting OR relationships? Literally EVERYONE in those imaginings saw us as an object. "You're pretty, I want to have sex with you, then never see each other again." But that sex was Also Going to be traumatic. THEREFORE, JULIE WOULD SWITCH OUT. Literally. Our BIGGEST FEAR at that age was someone Actually hitting on us, our panicked terror making us Shut Down, and Julie being triggered out to "fight fire with fire." (That feels weirdly tied to our family teachings? Think on this.) So she'd play along, lasciviously flirting right back, and then when they inevitably ended up in bed, she'd Destroy them. Instead of them using us, she'd use Them, and then some. Our brain Never wanted to, or could, imagine what would happen To that victim afterwards. That, too, speaks volumes as to Julie's mindset-- AND OURS-- back then: there Was no after. If We had just experienced that, we'd be dead. So we/Julie both, for different reasons, failed to comprehend the very idea of After. But she took it in that there were no lasting consequences to what she did... because of dissociation. That's how WE worked. So we projected. But even then, we Knew that it was wrong, and it WOULD continue in the physical, albeit almost incredulously. (We struggled to imagine Time after rape.) And the thought of that made us avoid any and all sexual threats.

 


(left unfinished. this is too disturbing to talk about anymore)


prismaticbleed: (soniccity)


I've consecrated myself (and Jewel did too) to God as a "victim soul," one who is willing to suffer as Christ did out of love for the conversion of sinners, to take upon themselves some of the debt other sinners must pay, to help their conversion, to save them from damnation.

It's what I've felt obligated to do since childhood, in a collective sense. Even that somewhat foggy-headed girl part of me, the one who stopped living actively around 2007, the one who is perpetually about 14-15, even she is aware of that background whisper, the joint fear and desire, fused in the feeling of scapegoat and martyr both.

In our very very young years, before all memory, we were obsessed with blood. I'm not sure why. It still stands out so much in my head that one of our earliest pieces of artwork, from kindergarten-- age 5-- was of a smiling, rosy-cheeked bat, whose claws were dripping with blood. Our favorite dream ever, in first grade-- age 6-- was of us being a bat, on some sort of adventure, climaxing in my being trapped in an icy, snowy cave, with sharp claw-like stalactites tearing into my chest, pouring my blood all over the silent whiteness, ripping deep to my heart.
I loved that sort of thing. Deep down, I still do. Deep down, THAT is what defines me.

When did we lose sight of it?

I feel today, we were guided to get it back.
Yes, we want an innocent, white, snow-glitter heart, all lilies and tiny flowers and softness. We want that so deeply. But, just as deeply, we want a heart that is rich and red, pierced with swords and thorns, bleeding and joyous, soaking into the cottony fragility of purity and enriching it with a love so profoundly sincere that it becomes a new color altogether, red and white, inextricable.

I think that's what I'm being called to be.
We haven't had a "host reset" in way too long, and I think that is why. We kept assuming the Core had to be White, but that wasn't working as we hoped; guys kept freezing, bleaching, fading, calcifying. Pure White wasn't working; a key piece was missing.
I was researching alchemy for a while and I was shocked to realize that white comes before red, and red before gold.
I keep thinking of Sandmen pajamas.

Anyway. The point of tonight's writing is… when I first consecrated myself, verbally and in total sincerity, I was basically on my knees and soaking the floor with tears and snot, to be blunt. Sobbing and scared and unsure what I was even trying to say, but knowing in my heart what I wanted to do, beyond the crippling fear, beyond the doubts and confusion. My head had been too clouded by thoughts of doom and damnation, I felt incapable of love, I felt lost and didn't know why… and… would you know, it was a simple tag statement from E that broke through my paralyzed heart and left me genuine and weeping.
"he's an absolute sweetheart."
I just…
after several days, weeks, months, of feeling utterly cut off from God and love and those I love here, of being able to love at all, that simple little statement of sincere friendship just pierced my heart and
it was exactly what I needed.

i wanted to live up to that again, more than anything.

I was scared, at first. I thought being a "victim soul" meant living like that forever-- waking up shaking with fear, constantly paranoid of sin, sobbing constantly, never happy, never feeling peace, never feeling capable of love for self, never feeling capable of loving others enough or with any real honesty… it was hell.
I was wrong.
I read a lot of accounts of "victim soul" saints and that did scare me too, to read about how intense some of their trials were, but..
(11:11 just now)
Sickness, stigmata, possession, abuse, poverty, the whole package-- these saints accepted it all with joy and patience, many of them even entering ecstatic states during the worst of it, despite being bedridden and in agonizing pain.

I thought of Laurie and I remembered how I used to adore when she "beat the sh*t out of me" because it made me feel loved for some reason. I took the 'abuse' because it was penitent and she didn't hate me, she hated that I was acting against love, and her violence was a way to not only expunge my sins but to tune me back into a selfless mindset.
It's so weird. Pain, for me and many of those saints at least, is weirdly… holy?
I think that's why part of me is still struggling greatly with the end of the hacks. Yes, it was literal hell for over a decade, but in that struggle, in that seemingly endless suffering, we grew. We did penance, we offered it up, we thought, "if our suffering this can save even one soul from suffering this instead…" we bled and cried and prayed and we became better people and looking back, as weird as it sounds, I wouldn't sacrifice any of that journey for what it accomplished. Yes, thank God it's over, but also praise God for the good he wrought through it.
Then it stopped cold turkey and we were left reeling in the sudden absence of pain.
I think THAT'S why we started abusing so badly with the eating disorder. We were desperate for suffering, for the compassion it brought with it, for the empathy, for the penance, for the lifting up of the mind above the body and to God. We weren't sure how to get it anymore though, now that atoning was forbidden by the family, and was no longer needed for its original purpose anyway. So in a desperate, lost, addled mess, we just started beating up our body in a "non-violent" way, longing for some sense of purpose again.
Does this make sense?

I wondered, momentarily, if God didn't want me to carry heavy bloody trials because I'd enjoy them and maybe I'm supposed to actually suffer first, or carry some totally different kind of suffering for people out there. I personally think this mental agony of screaming floating voices and psychosomatic terror is a big part of our being a "victim soul" already, and God willing it's not only doing penance but also saving other people from suffering the same. That's all I want.

But I said the Rosary twice today, once in the prayer space and it took an hour to battle past the pain and fatigue and scrupulosity-driven do-overs, and once kneeling by the bed with the grandmother. That second time was easier because we said the Sorrowful Mysteries and by the 3rd (the Crowning with Thorns), I got the sudden idea that "hey, if it's so hard to meditate on the Mystery while speaking (a mental multitasking that, currently, personally detracts from my fully devoted attention to either), why don't I take that duality completely out of the equation, and feel the Mystery?"
Meaning, put myself through sharp pain while saying the decade.
It worked. And not only did it work, it annihilated all feelings of spiritual dryness. I cannot properly put it into words but the instant I dug our nails into our forehead, wondering what the thorns felt like, the shock of pain made me totally, completely willing to suffer an actual piercing crown, blood and all, out of love for the God Made Man who suffered that for love of us, and of love for the people He died for and who I, too, wanted to see brought safely to heaven. I thought of my friends, of my family, of the people I loved, of people I'd never known but who needed prayers and intercession, of all the souls in Purgatory… and with a different bunch of nails biting into my skin, I was completely and selflessly and lovingly willing to take my Cross all the way to the hill for their sake.
All because I felt the pain that our Savior felt, and in that participation, also felt his love.

That's why I'm not scared of being a victim soul anymore. I finally, finally tasted that love again. After only being able to tap into it after Communion on weekdays lately, in states of ecstatic weeping praise, suddenly I had it in what was potentially all the trials of my earthly life outside the walls of the church, in the place I had lost it for so long.
Suddenly I'm… not scared anymore. Deep down, where it matters, where headspace resonates, where Infinitii was born, I'm not scared anymore. Deep down, where God lives and washes everything white by virtue of the red he spilled, I'm not scared anymore, because my heart gets it, and now the only thing is making sure I NEVER forget it-- incorporating that resonance into every aspect of my existence, every word and action and thought and feeling, because it IS me, God me praised this IS ME, this is what I've lost touch with for so long, this is me, you have no idea how I feel like crying with joy right now but I'm alive again and I'm so bloody happy and even though there's a LOT of work to be done in this world yet I feel like I'm finally back in tune enough to do my part fully again.

God, continue to strengthen us in Your love. That's all we need, is Your grace, to follow in Your Word and to be salt and light for the earth. It's natural when you get down to it; sin is unnatural and if we just… sweep it away, really tap into the Source of Good, even just for a moment, you can feel that. Again, words do it no proper justice but the sentiment, fumbling as it is, is there. God, thank You for all You have done for us so far, for all You have done through us, and I humbly ask that You simply continue to guide us on this path, away from temptation and confusion, in all light and holiness, as You wish all Your children to walk in always.
Continue to guide us, so that we may always be a beacon to You for others, to that Truth which we know at the very core of our heart(s) to be life and love and light itself. Amen.

I have nothing else to say for right now. I need sleep before work tomorrow, and every morning is another battle, so to speak-- virtue vs vice, as long as we live in a world where the Enemy is indeed trying to stop everything truly Good. But we'll pull through. We won't give up. I can promise you that.

Have a blessed night, everyone, and may the Creator of all that is fill you with the serenity and strength you need for the dawn.
As for my part, I send all my genuine love and compassion to all of you. May God grant me the grace to always be there for you in your need as well.

 




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

 


1025

- realizing that, in childhood, I usually played the role of a “monster” and/or a “PET” with people. When the “lost in space” movie came out I was obsessed with pretending to be Blarp, and would walk around the playground with some other kid being Penny (she wasn’t happy with it I don’t think). Again, in 3rd grade, I was ALWAYS Alex’s sidekick or assistant. When she was Mewtwo, I was Mew, and I had to do “whatever she told me to.” I spoke about this before but it wasn’t the only incident. In the 3rd grade school play I was given the role of “dinosaur” (forget what the play was), and although I loved it I was, again, someone else’s “pet.” All later pseudo-friendships in high school always had me in a secondary position too, not so much a “sidekick” as the “errand boy.” Why was this always a constant with other people? Did I just never stand up for myself? DID THAT BECOME JACINTH?? (or any of the fragments like that?)


I want to reiterate that addictions are dying out. Yes there are still some desperate alters using coping mechanisms, but there are NO compulsions anymore. There’s FINALLY a cognizance that “we don’t actually want this” and nothing is being forced. So that’s very very good.
There’s an E.D. voice named Jocelyn or Joyce who keeps ending up talking to Laurie when she’s out? She’s slightly older than the one that keeps going for oats as comfort food (that one’s like 11? makes sense as our childhood diet really wasn’t so hot as far as I know).


- a few thought processes we took notes on lately:
1) “jesus did not say ‘love your enemies but treat yourself like garbage,’ so STOP DOING THAT”
2) “god is NOT ‘out there but not in me’ so STOP searching and listening to everything you hear blindly!! ‘god’ is already IN YOU so LISTEN TO THAT
3) “compulsively saying ‘no’ to orders happens because the orders are interpreted as ‘harmful/negative’ and we are saying no to THAT. Even if the order is good, if it is given angrily or in a controlling context we will say no because we don’t want to obey the CONTEXT. If we DO follow the order it will be on our OWN TERMS later, once we have DETACHED IT from the original giver.”


- Jewel here. I just did some of our morning running and I feel REALLY GREAT. The “His World” Sonic remix we have on the iPod is a perfect speed.
Laurie says she wants me to front more because I don’t get embarrassed of being honest? Or doing imaginative things. I’m just worried because I do get body dysphoria now that the body is older and I know the reflection triggers egotistic people. So I gotta BLOCK THIS MIRROR. I’ll tape a Pokémon over it or something.


- exercised today (see above), went running in the morning for 30m. however it hurt our stitches a LOT and we’re still in pain. Kind of scary, I hope this is okay.

- 10pm. Just had to atone+smudge to get hackers OUT of here again. realized there was so much distraught anger in me, changed it to righteous love. Blessed everything, said a sincere prayer to restore our holiness and purity and morality. Went out to wash the ashes off our arms, playing on the radio in the other room is “living on a prayer” by bon jovi

- as of right now e is letting us play undertale (❤!!!!) and I just met toriel and already I love this game so I’m going to go do that.
…usually jewel is our gamer. Its always her name on the save files. But everyone told me, jay, to do this one. So I will.

 

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

 

@ 11:06 PM

 


I’m playing Undertale to try and get my heart back in order, trying to focus on BEING ME and therefore bringing my light back into the body’s daily life, instead of all the pain and self-loathing and things that have piled up there in the absence of me or Jewel or anyone else kind…

Looking back, especially on our original Tumblr (jwll), 2011 was a beautiful year for us, for the most part. That was the year of our real “spiritual awakening” and we spent most of our time thinking brightly, acting brightly, shining that light for others… unfortunately we got a bit blinded by it at some points, but damn it we were trying, we only ever were trying to put more kindness and love and forgiveness into everything… and really it all paid off, I think. I think if I really look back, even on our ‘mistakes,’ I couldn’t hate anyone for it, or hold it against them, like some do in this System, sadly. How could I hate anyone? We’re all just trying our best, acting as well as we know how, or… one could act out of fear, too, fear of not knowing what’s the best thing to do, or being frightened that they might not be able to do that best thing, or strong enough… not understanding, maybe. But there are many factors why people could act unwisely or unkindly or similarly, and none of them merit hatred. Nothing does.
So I want to stay out more. Me and Jewel, we need to ACTIVELY front more, to shine and inspire like our hearts are meant to do, like our bloodlines are meant to do.



…The real reason I’m updating here tonight is because… because right now I NEED to shine our light brighter than EVER.
Our biological brother is planning suicide.

I know he’s been considering it for years. I have too. I don’t know if he ever attempted. But I know he’s been terribly depressed, and it’s only gotten worse now, for reasons disturbingly similar to ours at our worst point… he started experiencing more spiritual/ unexplainable things, many of which were confusing and scary, and this all began forcing him to deal with a lot of things he was struggling to handle… and his girlfriend decided she wanted no part of it and dumped him, penniless and homeless, not looking back.
He said he cannot go back to living the way he did before all of that happened-- he "knows too much" now, he's seen too much personally, and to be honest he is having one hell of a time coping with that fact. He keeps thinking he's going crazy and is just imagining all this, and I think that's the same God-damned "coping mechanism" WE utilized in the face of the opposing reality... that, since we have reached this point of personal awareness and experience, we cannot pretend otherwise. And you "need" to in order to survive in some places of the world yet, some closed-minded environments that are afraid to acknowledge the existence of anything that big, bright, and bizarre. It's understandable but it is still heartbreaking. And we are BOTH living in such an environment right now.
I don't know. I'm having a hard time typing because I am shaking and I'm so upset I want to throw up and I'd probably end up crying if it wouldn't completely burn out the body.

...What do we do. What can we do? What should we do?

God it wrecks me to see him this upset, even if I don't personally "know" who he is. Part of us does, all buried parts mostly, but they recognize him well enough. And even discarding that, I personally STILL want to help him because he's suffering and God knows my job is to try and heal whatever pain I come across, as wisely and compassionately as I can. I can't not do it. It's my nature.
So when I see him so hopeless AND actively rejecting all possibilities of hope due to that blinding despair, I just... I get frustrated, admittedly. How can you not see it?
But... that's when it would be smartest to go inside, and ask. Cannon knows what that feels like. She knows exactly what despair feels like.
And that makes me wonder now. Did SHE ever heal from that??? Or did we only survive her suicidal depression by switching cores? It's a luxury we take for granted, really-- this ability TO split, and change so dramatically and completely, in order to be better... I'm the most recent in that process. Me, the current amalgamation of everything we needed to be at heart, all that growth fused into one person, the newest Core. But... the old ones got stuck, in a way. And we need to heal them, however we can. I can't believe we haven't yet... is that just because we weren't aware of this phenomenon working as it did until fairly recently? I mean, we're still grappling with using the term "Dissociative Identity Disorder" to refer to ourselves. For us it was always just headspace. We end up educating the therapists we see, all the time apparently, because we work so differently... but the bottom line is, it still fits the bill, however atypically. We split in order to survive.
And our brother can't do that.
...
What is that even like? How do non-split people handle all the paradoxical emotions and opinions and beliefs and personalities that we manage by being different people? Do other people even have to deal with that? Or do they pick and choose?
Either way, the point is, he's feeling depression and despair and self-loathing and he doesn't have any optimistic headvoices to help, he doesn't have any enthusiastic ghosters to encourage him, he can't even switch out and let someone else deal with the situation. He has to do everything as ONE person. He can't split up the process, compartmentalize it, organize it... no, for him, and for most other people I suppose, it's an all-at-once thing. That must be difficult as hell.
...I don't know. I want to help, God knows I want to help so badly, but I'm speaking from an entirely different reality experience here and I don't know if he can empathize or understand where I'm coming from at all-- not only that, but I wouldn't know how to help him out AS a singlet at this point, not in a way he could properly use.
I don't know, maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit. I did go over his apartment at least twice to talk to him for several hours-- yes, I did, not a social fronter-- and although all I could do was listen, and assure him he wasn't going mad, and give him a bit of spiritual encouragement... it felt like we were going in circles. Like he couldn't quite grasp his own situation well enough to properly use any incoming advice, because he didn't know how to apply it?
He's constantly saying, "I just want to understand." Over and over and over. I'm not sure what he's trying to do though. Just how much does he want to understand? And, even more importantly, how does he define "understanding?" Honestly I think he's trying WAY too hard to make everything logical and simple and sensible, into data he can intelligently recite and apply, into something that can be written down in a book. And Laurie just interjected, "I hate to tell ya, kid, but the universe doesn't work like that."
That's the thing. It doesn't. Heck, even looking at headspace, we've been writing THOUSANDS of pages over the years about this, and even that doesn't do it justice. I get so much of it, absolutely, but... it's not something you can "understand" in a logical manner. That level of understanding is wordless, without defining, without putting it into a box. It's a knowing at a deeper level and I think our brother's problem is that he's still uncomfortable with that yet. Yes, he's had intuitive experiences, he definitely has some psychic capabilities, BUT he still wants the world-- and those experiences by extension-- to present themselves in a way he can look at and say, "aha, I can see how this works." He wants to wrap his mind around it. He wants his mind to be big enough TO wrap around it. And the most ironic thing is that I can't even put into words why that's not going to work, not as it appears to at least. This whole thing... it's all so personal, it's experiential, you have to LIVE it, and know it of your self... God I just want to walk with him through this if I can, if we can, I want to help him and be a support system for him with this, it's so hard to find support when you're first going through this spiritual weirdness, we would know.
But he thinks he's going crazy and he's closing us off and we're closing him off for God knows what reason (we need to talk to some alters) and he won't listen to any help, he won't look for any hope, he's made up his mind that he wants to die and he won't talk about it and no matter what we do, no matter what we say or ask, he won't pick that metaphorical towel up from the ring.
I'm lucky. God am I lucky. I have Laurie. I can't quit even if (and when) I tried. None of us could.
But despair is toxic. Some of us have felt it and still do and when I touch that I understand, I understand why he feels so distraught and the fucking problem is that my nature saves me from despair and how do you pass the vibe of your ESSENCE onto someone else??? If I can't be hopeless because I AM hope, how in the world do I "teach" that to someone?
God I don't know. I'm always told, "live by example," maybe that's all we can do here, but...
God I don't want to be too late. This is destroying me.

...We know what it's like, to almost lose people. To hear that someone attempted suicide when you weren't aware, and upon hearing the news, to feel like the entire earth just flipped over sideways. The crushing weight of grief that hits your shoulders, knocking the wind out of you, the hysterical internal wail of "they could have been dead right now" and the absolute wash of gratitude, of sheer relief, of heartrending love, that hits you when you are reminded that they are alive, they lived, they're still here, they have another chance to find hope--
We know what it's like.
We also know what it's like to hear that someone did die when you were asleep.
...
I don't want to hear that again.

What can we do.



...

I have to end this here, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say and I'm just... I need to focus on other things. Brighter things. I need to focus on help, on BEING someone who can ignite hope in other people, to live in such a way that it brings a little more light into people's lives... God it hurts when I realize that it's not a 100% success rate and sometimes, no matter how hard I try, people will have the windows closed. They'll have the blinds drawn. Some people suffocate in their despair simply because they don't feel they deserve to see the sunshine anymore. That's when I want to drag them out into the summer brilliance and tell them you DO, you deserve ALL of this, you're just as bright as the sun, no matter what has brought you to this dark place you CAN move out of it, no failure is ever final, there's always a next step, you're always given another shot, even death is only a door... you're light, you're light, all of you, everyone, nothing can ever change that, it's the truth of your very nature, if we're all built from the dust of stars then we're all irreplaceable cosmic things just by being born. We're all impossibly wondrous combinations of time and space and possibility.
I can't get lost in the dark because I AM light and that's why I exist for this System, that's why I exist for EVERYONE...

...

It still breaks my heart, though, because there's still darkness here. It exists, it plays its part, it has its role and reason for existing too.
Maybe that's the simplest, hardest lesson to learn?
I don't know. I can't put this into damn words, why is that so difficult,


I can't give up. I won't. We will all do what we can.



 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)


I’ve realized that part of me is terrified of “going to heaven” or “reaching a higher state of consciousness” because that part of me is convinced that, in doing so, I will “have to have sex with ALL those people.”
Please, someone tell me where in hell this train of thought all began?

This is partly why I’m scared to death of “my brother,” who I cannot even call that because it feels licentious and disgusting. We KNOW he was trying to use sex with his girlfriend to “reach enlightenment” or something, and a big part of us HATES him/them for that because, 1) this is not the first time we lost a friend to sex, 2) that girlfriend of his was so promiscuous around us it was frightening, and 3) we’re guilty of trying to put religion INTO sexuality and we hate ourselves for that so much.

But yeah. With him around the house, with that inexplicable attitude of his that’s part wishy-washy, part pity-party drama-king, part “I hate the world so let it burn,” part “I have hidden knowledge and you don’t,” part “Well, apparently I know nothing, it was all just me going crazy! Guess I’m just a stupid idiot after all!” whine sniffle hiss growl grumble shut up. I am so SICK of that.
But that’s not really him. It CAN’T be. It absolutely CANNOT BE, and that is why it terrifies me, because then what is it?
The “real him” isn’t even really a him and isn’t entirely human either and they are SO DIFFERENT than how “he” acts on a daily basis. It’s jarring.
And “I” HATE him for it because I see him as a mirror.
I see him as a reflection of how horrible I am. Every thing he does I see as a sign from God telling me to shape the heck up or I’m going to be shipped the hell out. Every time he throws a self-hating pity party, I know I’ve done the same in my dissociative ignorance, and I want to annihilate that part of myself so I react to him with rage. Every time he says his knowledge is useless and starts the angry poor-me syndrome, I see the doubts that crush me and the stupid fake looking for “””validation””” I can fall victim to… and I want to annihilate that part of myself so I react to him with rage. Do you see a pattern here?
Every stupid ignorant selfish corrupted heathen thing I do, I see reflected in him. He’s a walking reminder of ALL MY ARROGANT MISTAKES AND BEHAVIORS and although I know he’s a person, although I know he’s a living human being, it has become so difficult for me to see people as anything other than billboards. And that disturbs me too.




It probably says a lot that I am the least dissociative when I treat life like a video game. If I visualize point counters and quest chains and item info boxes and health bars, I can actually function a LOT BETTER than I would otherwise. It’s similar to how the System functions THE BEST in the body by treating it like a “giant robot,” NOT as a “person” or as a “costume.” Nope, we need to cut it off entirely, make it something that needs maintenance and steering alone, and the suddenly we’re able to take care of ourselves better than ever.
This only becomes a problem when I need to be around other people. They don’t like to “play along” with that, and constantly force me to act like a “me.” That very pronoun is hell on earth and triggers some of our WORST behavior, so the key is to either use “us” or avoid pronouns all together—speak in a detached narrative sense instead. “I” is a safer word but that is only really safe in a headspace context. You’ll see us use “I” freely, but never “me.”


My right wrist and right ankle have been in awful pain for weeks now. What does that mean? In a way it scares me because I heard that, “spiritually,” the right side is the giving side, and if I’m hurting does that mean I’m not “giving” enough? How much do I have to give?
“Giving” is a word that always makes me shake at the knees because God knows I constantly try to give of myself, of my time and work and care, but it feels like that gets stomped on and God demands money. Who even cares what you do around the house? It’s not enough. Get a second job and PAY PEOPLE.
God I’m scared, okay? I’d love to get a second job just so I never have to go "home" but then, what do I do about transportation? What do I do about LIFE? If I’m going to be working 12+ hours a day like my mother wants me to, could I cope with that? Would that burn me to ashes? Or would I have to learn to numb everything out again? Would that be giving enough? I don’t know. What do I do?



There’s a quote I will always adore and it goes “I don’t want to be a person; I want to be unbearable.”

Today I realized, I cannot function as an individual.
I can only properly exist as a piece, as a part of something plural. My existence REQUIRES multiplicity of self, so to speak, to the point where “self” only holds meaning as part of a collection of unified selves.

Right now I’ve got these really stupid “wishes” and I’ve apparently had them for most of my life but they’re SO RIDICULOUS but no matter how I try to scrub them the heck out of my head, they keep coming back. Am I that weak? Am I that corrupt? What’s wrong with me?

I am really, really, really, REALLY ASHAMED to talk about this, and even admitting that is shameful, please forgive my jerkishness in this whole section, it’s unavoidable but I feel “shutting the heck up” would make this worse?

Who the heck are you, why the heck do you al;wauys ehinme wjihieo cxz.,

DON’T YOU DARE BREAK OUR OTHER COMPUTER TOO. GET THE HECK AWAY FROM HERE.



The freaking arrogant jerk bitch who was here earlier wanted to say “I want a friend!!! Waah waah waaaaah!!!!!! I want a sister twin person!!!! Waaaah poor me im so alone I want a friend!!!” SHOVE THE HELL OFF AND SHUT YOUR MOUTH.
NO ONE WANTS A GARBAGE BIN BITCH LIKE YOU, TRASHBAG. NO ONE WANTS SOMETHING AS SINFUL AND FILTHY AS YOU IN THEIR LIFE. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT.

This girl treats herself like utter slop and then she has the freaking nerve to COMPLAIN that no one wants to be around her?????????? Simpering airhead ego-centric BITCH.
Maybe if she’d clean up her filthy act, humankind wouldn’t be so freaking disgusted by her very existence.
But NOOO, she’s gotta make herself even FATTER and STUPIDER and MORE SINFUL THAN EVER.
Frankly she’s a stinking stain on humanity and



Those kinds of voices have the loudest roots in our head right now but they are toxic and they have no depth. They have no “personality” beyond screaming at others. They cannot exist on the inside.
They are not “real,” but what does it mean when the “real” people in a body are being smothered by the fake programmed masks full of hatred? When Armageddon comes, who is going to be burnt in the flames? Will we survive, or will we die for not being “real enough?”
It’s difficult enough being told that none of your love or joy or growth or knowledge is “real” because “you’re not a tangible separate human body, therefore everything about your existence is hallucinatory and fake.” It’s even worse to not even get the chance to try being real because these bitter, cruel, hateful, destructive, poisonous “people” are taking over the body instead, painting it their way, making it look and sound and feel like them.
It always did. This entire life, no matter what we did, the body ALWAYS belonged to them. It had their name, their face, their shape. It was like striving to be a saint but having been born with horns and a forked tail. Your very skin has betrayed your heart simply by existing. How do you get out of THIS hell? We don’t know, and to be sincere with you it is becoming scarier by the day. We’re not sure how to cope with it, even now with taking hormones. There have been barely any noticeable changes in a year. The biggest horrors require intensive surgery to remove.
We’re at a loss, and even now, typing this with those hands feels like a lie. Every word here feels like a manipulative, selfish, prim bitch actress LIE, because THAT BODY is the thing typing it.
God this is the dictionary definition of hell. What do we do.
What do we even do right now?

God I want to sob but I can’t because it’ll make that body cry instead of me.
I want to totally dissociate for a week and not have to exist physically at all. Maybe that will help.
Eating is dysphoric. Talking is dysphoric. Mirrors are terrifying, being touched is horrific. We spend every day struggling just to exist, it wears you out.
Someone mentioned the “giant robot” thing earlier though. IF we can continue that as much as possible, it MIGHT give us a chance at existing. Biggest obstacle right now is “human interaction.” We need to become more powerful than the stupid social blathering programs. It may “destroy” some of our “relationships” to stop acting all the time, but it will be 100% worth it because we can’t stand the thought of dying a liar.
We want to LIVE, for once in our life WE want to LIVE. That means, most simply, we need to stop killing ourself just because we’re in this frightening form. If we look at it a different way, treat it as something “other,” it could work.

Nevertheless that’s an ongoing topic to be put into practice and it does not need to be discussed further here.




Part of us is terrified of the brother because we think “if HE’S so holy, just like THEY were holy, then we HAVE to have sex with them” and God WHERE DID THAT THOUGHT PROCESS EVEN COME FROM?????????

Why the HECK does our brain think that, if we reach a “higher state of consciousness” where everyone is basically united, this means that we specifically have to have sexual relations with every one of them? Is that because OUR definition of “sex” is virtually interchangeable with “intimacy?” Meaning, we can’t so much as be physically close to a human being without feeling like they are invading our body? With that in mind, of course we’d be terrified of an “everyone is One! :)” mindset because to us, that means that everyone gets free all-access passes to our body and mind and soul, meaning we get to suddenly be a living whorehouse for whoever wants to come in, because “privacy doesn’t exist! Everything is shared!” and “sex is beautiful!!!” and “everyone is part of everyone anyway” and all that.
…does that make me flawed? That I’m scared of just being totally open to everybody like that?
I don’t’ want to let anyone and everyone into my energy field to touch it as they want, so wantonly and carelessly and without honor or respect. You may not have bad intentions but youre still manhandling it. Ignorance does not mean you are incapable of committing great harm.
Is it wrong for me to want to have “privacy” or whatever you call it? I want to be very very very exclusive about who, if anyone, gets to touch my energy field. Not like at home, where everyone sticks their hands in it for fun and I feel like a cheap whore with my own freaking family. Not like with the brother or those boys, who tried too hard to be “soft” and “I’ll save you” and whatever they were actually trying to pull, where their “gentleness” STILL feels invasive and violent because they practically push it on you. Not like with his girlfriends or the mother, who parade their body around like everyone already asked for a piece, who flaunt their bodies in a way that feels more invasive and violating than actual touch, and when they DO touch you it is the most terrifying thing you can imagine.
I don’t know, I don’t understand those people at all, that’s partly why they scare me.
But I don’t want people TOUCHING ME anymore.
Stop. please.
I don’t want anything touching this damned hateful BODY. CURSE THIS THING.
If they ever do have that option to upload your brain into a robot or something I would DEFINITELY CONSIDER IT.


When did this body get so big. I don’t like being a grown up its really scary its too big
I want to be small again please okay


This body really does hurt.


As someone was trying to say earlier:
It’s very difficult to figure out “what WE want” out of this life, because so many shallow social fronters think they have the final say and their views are limited and they all clash.
The loudest female “main fronter” is ironically the quietest and she sees herself solely as a consumable object. Her single goal in life is to “find a girlfriend who will use me as she wishes,” marry her, and dedicate the rest of their simple life to obeying their every beck and call. Literally, they see their ONLY future option as “becoming someone’s absolute servant.” They would be happy like this. BUT, this fronter denies the existence of the rest of us. They are unaware of our past, or even our present. They see nothing but NOW, and right now, they exist, and they want a girl to enslave themselves to. That’s it!
A fronter similar to them has an even shallower view—they don’t want to settle down and become a domesticated pet, they want to find a girlfriend who will use them as a sex toy and that’s it. That’s how shallow their view of themselves, and life, is. She, AND the previous girl, CANNOT IMAGINE EXISTENCE ALONE. Despite neither of them knowing about the System, they both are unable to function as individuals. Take them away from a person that they can attach to or devote/ sacrifice/ sell themselves to, put them somewhere in solitude, and they will STOP EXISTING. They will SWITCH OUT, and then who the hell has to come out and clean up their mess??? God only knows. You see why this is scary.
So we have one girl fronter who wants to get married and become a domestic servant wife,
And another girl fronter who just wants a relationship clingy and abusive and controlling enough that they will be used utterly but never left alone.
They ALL want to be used, objectified, utterly dehumanized, turned into OBJECTS… and they want to ALWAYS be in the company of a person who will treat them as such. ALWAYS.
It is very hard to fight them.
There are at least two fronters who are so humiliated and ashamed and full of potent self-hatred thanks to the family, that their literal only goal in life is to die. They want to commit suicide as soon as possible, as quickly as possible, without having to suffer MORE humiliation and body dysphoria. So their whole life is self-destructive, always a slow but unceasing walk of shame towards Death. Those fronters are out the most, thanks to being triggered so often, and as a result the power of their presence is disturbingly solid. They, too, are totally ignorant of the existence of the System.


How on earth do I get over this shame?????????????

God it is SUFFOCATING.
I literally cant do ANYTHING because the sheer crushing SHAME twists and breaks the legs of anything that would so much as THINK of stopping it. If you even dare to smile, Shame will shatter your kneecaps with a tire iron because "you think you’re such hot stuff??? You think something as disgusting and evil as you deserves to SMILE?? Spit in God’s face while you’re at it, why don’t you? Thinking you’re so goody-good you deserve to smile. Don’t make me vomit, you bloated harlot PIG. You’re sickening, you’re irredeemable, you area disgrace to all humankind, and you deserve to ROT IN HELL, nothing else. So don’t give me that smiley face bullshit. You’re not a special snowflake, you’re not a “special child of God,” you’re a filthy piece of GARBAGE that just happened to get a human face this time around and I’m gonna scrub that smile off your rotting skull. Bleed, bitch. Bleed like the whore you are. You are shit and you deserve nothing BUT shit. Enjoy your time in hell, it’s all you’ll ever get.”

Typing that makes me want to violently vomit about fifty times over but I’m not going to delete it because guess what??? That’s the EXACT feeling that lives in my stomach, in the yellow-energy area, that makes me so sick day after day, that screams and spits and hisses into my ears ALL THE TIME. Its bad enough hearing voices and hallucinating touch, its even worse when theyre like THIS.


I don’t want to eat anymore.
Every time I try, even if its just vegetables, the feeling of weight and bigness is so completely horrifying that this sort of meltdown happens afterwards without fail.
I cannot function because of the shame and terror and self-disgust and dysphoria. The immediate survival instincts after we eat are 1) vomit EVERYTHING up 2) if that fails, go to sleep immediately so you wont have to deal with this 3) if you cant sleep, kill yourself. 4) don’t kill yourself, but go find a knife, or let a hacker in. basically, go to hell, you bitch.

I don’t want to live anymore if this is what life is.
God I am so scared. I am so sorry.

I’m trying to read “A Grief Observed” by C. S. Lewis but I just started and some of it is already feeling funny in my head, like I don’t understand this or I don’t believe this or I cant empathize with this, but “it’s in a book you’re reading so you HAVE to!!!! Its WRONG to feel differently than someone else feels!!!!!!!!!”
But at one point he says, sometimes in grief and terror and fear, you look for god and its like god has the door locked in your face? That’s what it feels like right now, but that’s when I say, what the hell sort of “god” are you praying to

The “source of all things” bit never ever leaves, even in misery, which is the only saving grace we have like this. The instant we tap into it, the abusive fronters are SHOVED OUT, and we come back in. it burns through hatred and self-pity and rage and spite and pride.
But no, looking for a “big man in the sky” when we’re crushingly sad never worked because, in that sad mindset, there’s a subconscious belief of “if I’m suffering, god must not care, THEREFORE why would I find him now?” which blocks your success, OR “I deserve this bad thing so god must want me to suffer” etc etc which AGAIN blocks your success. Looking for “God” in a grief plagued by doubt is already sabotaging the possibility of you reaching Him. For all you know He COULD be answering every knock, every doorbell ring, but you’re SO doubtful, so set on a specific reply, that you can’t hear or see anything.
But I don’t want to be preachy, I don’t like preaching.
Bottom line is, usually the “floating voices” that answer me when I try to “pray” in grief are nasty, horrid, hateful things, and no matter what masks they wear or who they pretend to be speaking for I want them GONE. GO AWAY.
Only the Light that doesn’t talk and has NO agenda or pride or ‘self’ in the way we think of it, only that helps.


Speaking of selves. Here’s that “stupid, awful, shameful topic” everyone keeps running from.

Part of us wants a “twin.” It’s been a sort of weird, subconscious obsession of ours for most of our life, although we could never quite put words to it because “twin” usually means “sibling” and we did not want a sibling.
(however we are still interested in that concept as it appears in fiction! this is partly why we’re now very invested in Gravity Falls; my voice is one of the loudest in the clarion call of “STANFORD BE NICER TO YOUR BROTHER”)
For us, the very concept of parenthood was alien, up until at least late high school? I don’t even know. Growing up, parents and siblings were both conspicuously absent from the stories we wrote (Dream World had no concept of parents, every kid in Hokthai lived alone, I didn't even consider the E*girls having families)—as were houses, and friends. Said a lot about us I suppose. But when we hit age 12 or so, and suddenly we learned about this concept of relationships, well… we saw hints of what we really wanted and quickly got lost. But you all know how tangled that got and I don’t want to re-tangle it by trying to think about the past.
Now, we’ve seen and studied that “want” in us for long enough, often enough, to be able to describe it, and the closest word I can find to describe it is indeed “twin.”

I say “twin” in the spiritual sense, though, in the Dream World sense—a being that exists because you exist, essentially. Symbiotes. It has NOTHING to do with biology for us.
In Dream World, World-born twins are literally created by their realm itself as two physical manifestations of the same core soul. In contrast, non-twin W-B “siblings” occur when their realm creates two beings at once with their own complete souls, so to speak. Does that make sense? In Dream World, “siblings” are their own separate people, just born at the same time, whereas “twins” are literally part of each other.
Don’t get me wrong, siblings still feel a powerful bond with each other, but it’s of a totally different sort from what twins feel. Twins CANNOT be apart, siblings can.

Justice & Revenge are the key example that I can think of, but I actually looked, and “twins” of this sort pop up in virtually EVERY Leagueworld, it seems… Hosea & Hosanna, Uminel & Unomel, 005 & 006, Mirage & Corona, Halcyon & Echelon, and the unnamed twins from Nogaisa, Their relationships are all unique, this is true, but although it manifests in different ways that core quality is always there.
Strikingly, the daemons in headspace ALSO count as “twins” as far as my brain is concerned, BECAUSE they are “two beings made of the same soul” even if they don’t look alike. You see what I mean?
The key quality is always that sense of being two individuals who are still the same essence at the core. It's so hard to correctly put into words, I apologize.

I want to write about this more but I can't get my thoughts together enough right now.

To apply this to what “we” want… I know someone tried to write about it way back in the Blurty days, at least I think they attempted to (I think that’s when we first became aware of it). It’s essentially that, we want to devote ourselves totally to someone who will devote themselves totally to us.
It always blew our minds growing up when someone would call us their friend, but then go and have like five other friends!! How could you do that, we thought? I thought it was ME! Now what? I would pour myself out to these people, devoting myself to them and expecting an identical return… and then they’d effectively say, “oh by the way, you’re just A friend I have. Nothing special, sorry!”
Realizing that was twice as jarring when we “grew up.”
But… now we understand why things always fell through. We didn’t understand what we were looking for, let alone what to ask for, or why we were acting like we did, and why we were so distraught at how other people were acting.

We can have multiple friends now, because we no longer expect people to be our “twin” right off the bat. We are still looking, somewhat ashamedly, mostly heartbroken, partly unsure if we even need someone on the outside or not… but really it’s very lonely growing up solitary and it would be really nice to have SOMEONE to share our future with at this point, because as things stand now there is essentially no one. No family, no social group. The scarce friends we have online are either too distant or not close enough, and I do mean that both ways.
It’s really horrible because on the inside this is unsatisfied too, in a way. With all the fracturing and switching it's bad enough... when you go days not knowing who you are or where you are or what year it is or what's going on... you get the idea.
But the worst part is never being able to touch these people, so to speak. It's heartrending. Especially with ghosters, God they are so close, but then I remember that they aren't "actually there," no one but me can see them or hear them. I forget that so often. Like Genesis, geez he's like a part of me whenever I'm in the outerworld, we're inseparable, and I adore him, but... but it shreds my heart when I realize that the future I want, the life I want now, the sense of total safety and happiness and completion I want in the tangible realm I CANNOT HAVE as long as these people don't have bodies. It's the stupidest thing.
I want to sob. They are all I will ever want in life. They are my past, my present, and my future, they are what I dream for and dream about, they are the people I would and do breathe and bleed for, but God there's still this terrible reality split and THAT is why I'm looking for a "twin" downstairs, because God knows that I HURT so badly with this rift between me and the rest of my soul and forgive me, forgive me but I just desperately want that pain abated, I want that void filled, even a little, on the outside for once in my life.

The problem is, we can’t be ANYONE’S “twin” when we’re dissociated, because then we’re not us.


...

Today was mostly full of inexplicable crushing sadness, but I did try my best.
(i played spyro 2 to show lynne the scenery of the hubworlds. everyone adored it, said we definitely need that stuff in headspace. i realized how much the vibe of it had ALREADY stuck, to both our inner realms and the Leagueworlds to a lesser extent. unfortunately when i tried to play a level i started getting BAD vibe flashbacks?? got horribly dissociated and uncomfortable and had to shut off the playstation. like the vague existentially-dreadful past was eating me alive. laurie said not to force myself to do anything that made me feel sick.)
(played nier, the 2nd go at the forest of myth-- both funny and sad. loved it as always. had to stop when the brother came in the room)


I keep taking melatonin pills but I DON’T WANT TO SLEEP. I feel too filthy, too undeserving of sleep, especially since I am still forced to share a bed.
But that worries me. Casual pill-popping is NOT safe, especially not when I’m made aware of it AFTER it happens.
We’re rather sedated right now and that’s not good as we needed to exercise tonight you know.

We typed a lot today so I’m going to leave this as-is (it’s impossible to finish an entry “the next day”) and go exercise right now while we hopefully have a chance. Good night.




(end notes= finished exercise on “nothingecho” at 11:11. chaos 0 & I sang it to xennie, she was so happy.
Next song was anomaly-calling your name, the ferry corsten remix. That’s high school with genesis.
Then it was rio’s song!!! so he sang that as the minute finally changed.)
(also Julie sang "light prayer" with lynne accopanying her, it was great. seeing her just put her all into singing was so wonderful; she's still struggling with )
(ended on 1969 because it literally has the best ending ever. javier was playing the piano right up until the last refrain, when he helped xenophon (who had raptly been watching him) to play it, because it's very simple. she was euphoric. that plus the bittersweet beauty of that outro just hit my heartstrings. i dont want to ever forget it)




prismaticbleed: (shatter)



(massive trigger warning for this entire entry; that is a note to self as much as anyone else)

(uncensored for the sake of the equally brutal subject matter)












I am going to be totally fcking blunt about these goddamn idiots because this ISN'T GOING ANYWHERE and I don't know how the fck to talk about it and I don’t understand and im scared and I'm sad and I'm tired and I'm numb. and I just don’t care anymore, that's the problem

there is
no lets go all the way back

childhood, no understanding of sexuality whatsoever. memory also missing.
objectified passively by female family members. also disturbed by behavior of fellow girls in classes. didn't fit in with boys either. age 13 realized I wanted to be a boy instead
anyway
I must have had a vague idea of sex because by 7th-8th grade sex ed I was already terrified and LITERALLY DISSOCIATING to get through the class.
also when on that one "date" with billy I remember being vaguely worried he would rape me (we were alone and I wasn't interested in being a 'girlfriend' and I think he seemed upset?) but my only response was to DISSOCIATE AGAIN and just passively decide to "run if he tried"

but that was still age 13. I have no idea what led to that

also age 13 I should mention I DID like "girls" but it WASN'T SEXUAL but it WAS SENSUAL and I didn’t fcking understand it at all.
important clarification: I ONLY LIKED "NONHUMAN" GIRLS
remember "skittygirl," around the time I started reading TMM, they had the chaste-nudity transformation scenes, same thing with sailor moon. I was fascinated by the sailor moon ones. I would be utterly ashamed and watch the vhs tapes in private because I kept watching the transformations.
BUT I was not attracted to them. I was NOT sexually aroused. I was not even interested in dating or romancing them. the very thought of that was disgusting. but something in me was sincerely fascinated by those female figures, almost aesthetically, almost as an idea, not a body.
I used to draw skittygirl in the back of my tablet, secretly, in very light pencil so no one would see. I remember there were two pictures I especially loved and did not know why.
I've never talked about this but it's important
one was a small one, of her lying in the woods under a tree, sleeping. she was naked with her tail covering her private parts (or where they'd be if she had any), and of course she had no breasts so that was fine.
the other was my favorite. I loved it and I lost it in slc and that makes me oddly sad. it was a picture of her again unclothed, but floating like she was in space or underwater. she appeared seated, her legs were slightly bent beneath her, tilted to the left for modesty. she had her arms lightly wrapped around her chest. her eyes were closed, but there were tears in them. and her face bore that expression that others labeled as "sadness" but which to me was some nameless deep painful feeling dearer than anything else. and I would always look at that picture, blushing bright red hoping no one saw me, because I could not explain why I was looking at it, let alone why I drew it, or why I even liked it at all. I had no answers then and I really don’t have any now, that's why I'm still hitting trauma and that's why I'm typing this

there was one day on the bus when I was reading tmm issue #2 I think, it had ichigo transforming on the right page. angelbee looked over my shoulder from behind (I didn't see her there) and suddenly asked "why is she naked?" in a slightly accusatory, but joking voice. I saw the bus driver's eyes flicker up to me in the mirror and I froze in total dread and terror.
1. she was not naked and I did not want people thinking I was a pervert
2. the very thought of looking at a naked person made me sick, and I was terrified that her accusation was correct in some way, and I was a sexual deviant/ whore/ etc.
I dissociated totally at that second and I don’t know what "i" said or did after that
but I was afraid to read those books on the bus from then on, let alone anywhere.


the eating disorder was tied to sexuality too
I read an article today someone mentioned this, and bang it was right back in my head
I don’t think I ever wanted to look womanly. I don’t remember, there was a LOT of programming-- my mother & grandmother literally praised me for "filling out" and would always "help me be pretty." so I just kind of swallowed that for a while. but I remember I liked wearing sports bras way more than regular ones, all the time. and I despised skirts, I think I actually cried at the idea of having to wear one as a uniform in high school?
I still can't forget the day my parents had me walk down the school hallway in that skirt, I have no idea why, they were saying I "looked so pretty" BUT, but my grandmother said something about my behind looking attractive or something? I don’t even fcking know, she literally had me walk away from her to watch how my behind was moving, like it was "sexy" or something, she PRAISED this, I felt so uncomfortable and objectified but guess what I did? GUESS WHAT I DISSOCIATED because "feeling uncomfortable" meant "I'M the problem!" and "I was NOT ALLOWED to disagree with what was "good for me"" therefore I was gone.

but I remember by age 15 I was almost hospitalized for anorexia
I didn't know genesis then, I think I had just discovered NiGHTS, maybe I was even 14?
but it was all about wanting to be thin. tiny. flat. I didn't want breasts. I didn't want my mother's hips. god willing I never wanted to look like "other girls," although I'd never use that phrase as it felt wrong. but I saw their weirdly soft arms and hands and legs, that bizarre sort of uniformity all their bodies had, with their "innie" navels and their big chests and their rounded figures. I never ever wanted to look like that. I wanted to be a wiry young fiery tomboy forever, and when I was told that I was going to grow up into a "young woman," with all the voluptuous sexuality that got soaked into that term, I wasn't even terrified-- I couldn't cope with that much terror. my mind just blankly decided, burying all emotions due to an inability to handle them, that "I just won't look like that then."
and that's when the starving started. high school was bliss in that sense because I left the house around 5am, and didn't get home until 4pm or later, and I didn't have to eat ANYTHING that entire time. so for four years, I didn't. well almost, the teachers/parents got worried and I started packing salads around junior year I think, but even that was acutely shameful and distressing for me… people watching me eat made me feel so dirty, so wrong. I'll talk about that more later, it's complex. but I couldn't eat in front of anyone ever. I remember there was at least one day I was starving and could not go without eating even if I wanted too (I was getting dizzy and cold), and I think I took a half a sandwich or something? into the girls' bathroom. and I went into the last stall and waited until everyone left and then I very quietly ate what I could. I remember being terribly sad because I felt SO ALIEN in that school, I wanted to not feel like a freak BUT I DIDN'T WANT ACCEPTANCE EITHER, because to be "accepted" by those kinds of people would be frightening. being alone all the time was kind of sad at times, because I felt unlikable and flawed, even if I didn't understand why… but the alternative was worse. when genesis showed up in 2005 that made my life so blissfully better, I hope he realizes he literally saved my sanity for the most part.

they put me on meds for depression around the time my weight dropped to 100 lbs and I remember I put on 20 pounds. I remember standing in the kitchen one day and seeing the fat collecting on my stomach and just feeling the floor bottom out. it was existentially unbearable. that's where one of our self-abusive alters is locked in time, in that pill-pudgy long-haired green-uniformed state, age 15 or 16 or so, crushed with blinding fear to the point where they felt nothing. that was the first time in our life that the body LEGITIMATELY felt like a prison.
I don't know if julie was touching us by that time or not but she probably was

about that
not yet? I don’t know
I keep jumping from topic to topic this is very stream of consciousness. also very depersonalized. it's just data I can't be a person and talk. anyway I should make a list and print it out and give it to the therapist, of all the topics, also then use that list for a xanga session, we need one, or one hundred

where were we
high school
don't remember it.
except there was one day in religion class. only day I remember, we were sitting on the far left row, three or four seats down. the pastor passed out papers about sexuality, no idea what it said because I refused to look at it. he wanted us to read it aloud, each person reading a paragraph, starting at the far left of the class. so I was going to have to read paragraph #4.
I have no fcking idea how we did it. not only did we dissociate so acutely that we didn't hear a damn word anyone else was saying, but we SOMEHOW were able to fake "not having the paper" and we got the person behind us to pick up reading instead of us. we weren't called out on it and everything was fine. but yeah after the coast was clear, we were gone again. mind blank.
we wore stockings all the time, dark green, we still felt exposed all the time. if we fell in a stairwell we not only felt ugly and childish and dirty, with people staring at us, but we also… you guessed it… dissociated. the shame was too great. not only did we fall so clumsily, like a fool, but we were wearing such an exposing getup… it was terrible. when you trip and fall in a skirt you not only lose all sense of dignity and respectability, but you then feel like a dirty, babyish object. I felt filthy. I felt so filthy all the time at that age

you notice that disturbing sentence, "babyish object," I don't know why the fck that's so true but it IS. it always has been and still is, I don’t know why

there was another article we read today. let me quote it.
"Youth is sexualized for the same things purity culture advocates for: purity, innocence, “untouched”, inexperienced, etc."
basically if you're "undamaged goods" you're "more desirable" or some shit
and our DAMN MIND immediately thinks "uh-oh I have to make sure I'm desirable" like WHO THE FCK CARES
WHY DO YOU "WANT" THAT DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU'RE SAYING
this is what I mean about fcking PROGRAMS


I look like a kid. Okay? In my mind's eye I LOOK like a kid, somehow. I carry a lot of the traits.

I find it disturbing that Julie did too. She was the internal manifestation of everything we saw as "sexual and therefore lethally threatening," but… she had pigtails, she popped bubblegum, she wore ribbons, she wore pink. The only thing non-childish about her was her bust and her scanty clothing. But that just hit me now.
The opposite… we realized in therapy. "Womanly" women, those who are built big in the hips and chest, "motherly" women OR even worse, "sensual" women… scare the shit out of us. They terrify us totally. I don't know why. But we have no adults in our System as a result. No one is "grown up" because for us, "growing up" meant growing into that sort of loud, skanky sensual shit. Perfume clouds and fake lights and tight dresses and jewelry.
Guess what we had to do as a youth.

God this fcking hurts. It fcking hurts.
When we were younger we were dolled up all the time. As a child we were in beauty pageants. We always had to wear caked-on makeup, lots of jewelry, fancy dresses, heels… it scares me now. I was like seven fcking years old and they had me dressed like a grown woman. Back then I don't fcking remember, I probably just thought it was cool to wear jewelry and look like a princess-- because I wanted the power and the gems and the dragons. I didn't give a shit how "pretty" I was, especially not according to other people. Actually I NEVER thought of what "other people" thought of me, that was a constant. But… looking back it's disturbing now. God. How did I never ask myself if maybe some subconscious treatment got into our brain from that.
So we were, however "passively" or "innocently," sexualized in that aesthetic manner as a child. I don't know about anything else. I need to sit down.

When I say parents, I mean female parents, my dad/grandfather had NO hand in any of this which is why common "purity culture" baffles me. There were like NO men in my life at all, besides my brothers of course, who I identified with. But yeah, when other people talk about patriarchal bullshit I get confused at first, because that very same bullshit was perpetuated by women in my life. Same source, unusual application.

Teenage years… I remember feeling the pressure to be "as busty as possible" because my mom/grandmother were actually DISAPPOINTED in me being built smaller, I remember one day (all our memory flashes are existential you notice) standing in the bathtub, and being suddenly acutely aware that the voice in my head saying "I need to get bigger (in that sense)" was NOT ME, and that way deep down under that I actually didn't want them to grow at all. It was disturbing to realize that part of me was actively fighting ME, that there was a "whole other consciousness" driving my body that was at TOTAL ODDS with what my personal soul actually wanted.
That "other" is still around and they are making life a living hell but we're not talking about that right now

I don't want to talk about late high school. 2008 or whenever. Q. He doesn't deserve any of the shit we've stuck onto his memory and I will tell you why, it hit me why this morning.
He was INNOCENT. He was ALWAYS INNOCENT, he did NOTHING WRONG, BUT!!!! BUT HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THAT WE DID NOT FIT INTO THE EXPECTATIONS HE HAD OF A "GIRL"
Hell I don't think WE even said anything until it became so traumatic we snapped and people started screaming at him online (which I only know about because there's a screencap of it somewhere? used to be at least, surreal).
But. He was nice. He is nice. He went for the whole traditional dating thing, dinner and a movie, a walk outside, kisses goodnight, etc. At least I think so.
Honestly it was so confusing. We were so hyper-programmed at that time that we couldn't make sense of our own feelings without putting other peoples labels and scripts onto them. We loved him dearly as a friend. We loved that he was interested in the same stuff we were-- dreams, psychology, OCs, ELO, poetry and stuff. He shared our interests and that was UNHEARD OF for us. Of course we loved him for it. But that's not loving a person, not really. That's loving the reflection of yourself IN that person.
I didn't notice until I found an old IRC printout just… how shallow we really were around him. How contrived our responses were, how little we actually talked. And that breaks my heart, to wonder if maybe he fell in love with a program, with a mask, precisely because that's what it was built for. We were groomed, from childhood, on exactly how to be the "proper young lady" and we learned HOW to talk and act and walk and be. We learned EXACTLY how to make people happy, how to stay safe and innocuous and unassuming, we learned exactly how to be what other people wanted. We were "perfect" because perfect is just a set of surface traits, and we were nothing underneath.
That became pretty profoundly clear once he met us in person.
…It hit me just how tangled that first "I love you" got. I remember the person (spinny?) on the porch, with Genesis, being scared to say it, nervous as hell. But… they felt that sort of love for so many people around that time and none of them ever panned out. It WASN'T "love," not the kind that settles in the heart like an ember, not real love. It wasn't even attraction, or infatuation, or romantic shit. It was "I love you as an idea." It really was, and that breaks my heart, and that's terrible. "I love you because you listen to me talk, and you're nice, and I have NEVER had friendships before, let alone ones as nice as this, so I literally cannot tell the difference between platonic and romantic love."
Everything we learned about "romance" we got from comic books. We were a walking shojo manga. We didn't even mean half of what we said; we were just so damn good at acting and emulating, that we were able to "get into character" of who we were copying and never even questioned it. Then… then came the aftermath.
I know that like a month after that "I love you" part of us hated him. It was because now, he wanted to be our "boyfriend." Now he was being romantic. And so we no longer "loved" him because to us, this wasn't the boy we "loved" in the first place. Now he no longer existed in that floaty, intangible creative space where we could love ANYTHING. Now he was a REAL PERSON, now he was a HUMAN BEING, somewhere off in Salt Lake City, now he was a boy with a body and a life and he wanted to meet us and god damn it but we didn't want any of that, we didn't want anything to do with him anymore, once he stopped being a dream, once he stopped feeling like an extension of ourself.
We couldn't "lie" or act anymore after a certain time period anyway. I know 2009 we didn’t talk at all? I think? Time was weird. But by 2009 headspace was now front-and-center permanently, no more fake personae running the show unchecked. That put a nail in the coffin of any "relationship" too.

But… bottom line is the kid was innocent. He had NO IDEA what was actually going on. To be honest WE were the dishonest ones, whether we realized it or not, we strung him along thinking we were some sort of ideal nice pretty girl, when in reality we were just "acting the way he'd like us"… we always did. "Present yourself in a socially acceptable way." Learn how to say JUST the right things, always, so people like you… basically, be a puppet. Be a doll. Be a pretty little doll so people love you.
But damn it if you really love a doll you will love that thing until it's old and broken and worn down and patchy, and then you will love it until it's dust and beyond. If you're going to love a person you'd better love them the same way, who the fck cares if their face is painted or not, who cares if their words are golden or flowery or sweet or not. You fall in love with the new-car-smell and that's not what the fcking car is about. I hope you get what I'm trying to say because this is frustrating and it's not even the biggest point.

I don't remember the trip in 2010, not right now, I'd have to sit and REALLY dig through memories and I do not have any "spoons" right now whatsoever so that's not going to happen tonight, plus I'm still typing, it's 1AM, I don't give a shit this is important.

2012. That trip, there are a few things I remember, let's please review them again, the kid was innocent, that's why we "hated" him. We DIDN'T. We hated the dissonance that we could not resolve. We hated the fact that here was this sweet, wonderful, nice kid, who (by that time) we DID love as an actual human being, as a person, albeit platonically… here he was, doing things that were so fcking terrifying to us and he didn't mean to. He didn't realize it, he didn't intend anything bad, it was just a product of past and circumstance, and he got stuck in the middle. We hated what we saw in him, that wasn't even him. And I am so sorry.

Few things. One, the infamous "Q thing," which we refuse to call that anymore, the moment in the kitchen when he put a hand on our face and just looked at us in this way we didn't understand and still don't. someone called it the "good night jenny" phenomenon (wow that's horribly ironic) because it was this romantic thing? like when people are romantic they do these weird, melodramatic, sappy things? because they CARE? and we don't understand it at all, even if we think "well if they care that's really nice I'm glad" but when it happens to US it is TERRIFYING.
so here this boy is, hand on the left side of our face I think? giving us this odd look and wait a minute. wait.
we were smiling FAKELY. I know that because we were SUPER dissociated and about three feet behind the eyeballs already. plus frozen in fear because hello physical contact. but. BUT.
maybe he saw that. maybe he suspected that. god maybe he SAW something was up but didn't know WHAT, that's what that weird look probably was, he looked CONCERNED and we couldn't understand it because we were too busy smiling like a fcking poster and trying to guess how we were supposed to "properly react" in such a situation, ignoring the screaming alarms going off in the head. like trying to hold a fcking catwalk pageant with the fire alarm going off. that sort of cheap ignorance for the sake of "looking pretty" and "holding to standard."
but god maybe he had a feeling. I feel so so so bad now.
but we called it the "Q thing" because
god
chaos did the same thing, he always knew, he's capable of romance, we're not, god we're sorry we're so damn difficult to live with. that must be so hard to deal with.
there's nothing wrong with touching people in innocent ways like that but even that sentence has me dissociating and stopping breathing and that's the problem

to us there is no such thing as "innocent touch"
NO SUCH THING
it fcking sucks, it breaks my heart, and THAT is why there are so many goddamned abusive alters in here,

we were talking about this with the therapist.
as a child we had no personal space really. the brothers did. we didn't. we didn't have our own room. we didn't have our own bed. there were several times when we'd be trying to get dressed in our room and the mom/grandmother would just walk in on us, half-naked. we'd scream and try to cover ourselves and they'd either (mom) get snippy and mad that I hadn't locked the door, shaming me for it before leaving, or (grandmother) say "what are you getting upset about! I'm not looking at you" and proceed to do whtever the fck they wanted to do while we assumedly froze or hid or something, I don't know
there was one time at a fair, we had to get dressed in the car? not the first time
but this time was bad because the windows werent really tinted and we were in a realy public place,the mom had us go in the back seat and literally get changed. this memory is odd because I only remmeber two things: one, the fact that we were in the car, and two: feelings of entrapment, fear, shame, rage, etc. the emotions were so bad. we actually wanted to cry, hot angry scared tears, we wanted to say NO, we wanted to say GET ME OUT OF HERE, we wanted to say TAKE ME BACK HOME, I DON'T WANT TO BE AT THIS STUPID FAIR ANYWAY, but we couldn't. we couldn't say anything. we had to get undressed, we had to be half-naked at least, inside this little cramped car, with people around us, like an animal on display. that was the ugly filthy child feeling again, the same thing we got in high school if we fell. undignified, shameful, dirty. no respect. no sense of humanity. a display.

we got used to that on some level I guess
got used to always being walked in on, and "having to be okay with that" because otherwise you were scolded or shamed for being silly or childish or "making a problem out of nothing," no one EVER said "it's okay to set your own boundaries," no one EVER said "you have a right to speak up if you are uncomfortable," no ONE EVER SAID IT WAS OKAY TO SAY NO, EVER, I WAS NEVER GIVEN PERMISSION TO REFUSE ANYONE LIKE THAT
it was always women, that's the stupid part, it was always the women, never the men,
that's why I feel so bad about Q, we had no way of knowing how to deal with this bad stuff suddenly being reflected in him unintentionally= what I'm trying to say is we never let him know about these problems we had because "I shouldn't have problems" AND we still believed we had no space, no rights, no voice, etc.
plus, please forgive me, the religious bit
god the religious bit is the WORST, the worst, the worst, to this day, that and the spirituality
but first. the
the channeling stuff
god this is hard tot ype
chaos translating badly into a human body and Q telling me what happened, it made sense but it was still disturbing to me because I don't GET human bodies, I remember eros was laughing and said it was fine but really it WASN'T all fine, no, it was fine we understood the mistranslation but but but
that stuck in our heads for YEARS and we DIDN'T TRUST HIM FOR ALMOST AS LONG REMEMBER?????
remember, fck you idiots who say this is "fine," remember we were so damn fcking terrified that the phrase "marital lust" had been used in conversation discussing us that we AVOIDED HIM FOR AGES because we were TERRIFIED
Q didn't mean that you jerk, he meant the goddamned merge drive being translated wrong, like it ALWAYS IS, and you know what THAT'S PROBABLY WHY WE WERE SHAKEN UP.
damn mistranslations. "he loves you, he wants to bond with you like that," yeah no shit I KNOW, I do too, but damn it why the HELL do human bodies only have ONE FCKING OPTION i hate this i hate this I HATE THIS

everything else was fine. god that kid was so good to us, he was so nice, he was a godsend, but I don't even fcking REMEMBER him, I don't even remember the channels god forgive me. I remember a few soft blurs and light flashes from that one night, the one with the light on the left, the best one. god those memories are so soft. they're so kind and nice and I want to cry thinking about them because it was heaven, it was heaven, yes chaos was TANGIBLY there, no question at all, but damn it we KNEW FULL WELL that he was ONLY THERE BECAUSE Q LET HIM BE, Q acted as a conduit for the most beautiful experience of our life up to that point, god did we even thank him??? did we ever thank him enough?? did we ever emphasize how much we TRUSTED him to ALLOW that to happen? did we ever tell him that if we didn't love him a hell of a lot in his own way, that night wouldn't have happened at ALL?? I mean shit yeah you're channeling someone else who doesn't feel or even look like you really, there was no doubt it wasn't you, but you were still in there, in the back, waiting for when he left. it was still your body acting as the vessel. like ours does for everyone else in here. but you, it was just you, please realize this is IMPORTANT faces are super important for us you are NOT SCARY and god we were NEVER scared of you, ever ever, we love you, we really do, we hope you don't mind the fact that you got kissed secondhand 4 years or so after you first asked, it's kind of funny but we did realize it'd happen. that's what's important. we never hated you. we hated that our trauma tainted our friendship and shattered a relationship we couldn't have because we were too damn broken and you were too damn pure and honest and we didn't want to make you feel like us. we didn't want to stand up to you because you were nothing TO stand up to, it was just all our demons clouding the sky, we didn't tell you we were scared because it wasn't your fault. do you understand
we hope you think fondly of us even though we never talk anymore, you were only ever this great green-blue iridescent thing to us, that's wonderful, you were never frightening. ever.
so we're sorry for hurting you unintentionally
we're sorry for never being able to be totally honest with you, because we didn't know how to be honest yet, we didn't know what was going on,
we're sorry for not knowing who the fck we were all the time, we're sorry for swearing, it just aches.
we're depressed and we don't feel a lot but we are genuinely sorry and we genuinely care.
those three months living in an apartment with you both were three of the brightest months of our life even if we don't concretely remember them, the snips and flashes we have are lovely, we don't regret a moment of it, yes even the "troubling" bits because damn it if we had just COMMUNICATED things would have gone perfectly but no, no at that time we were swamped with bad fronters, you dealt with the abusive eros and all the faceless socials and the self-hating e.d. people and all that. you saw some ugly-anchor people come out. and you never knew. and we didn't know. and we were so troubled but we buried it because damn it we loved you both and just wanted it to work. but we weren't working, inside. it was too much to ask for.
I'm sorry. the manic who packed our suitcase singing to "eskimo boy" while you stood outside the door, mel, they didn't even know who you were. they didn't know what the hell they were moving back to or away from. if we were angry, it was because we felt… rejected?
we did we felt like you both really didn't want us there. like we weren't really welcome. and personally we felt like such a freak, we didn't know what to do,
but damn it in our heart we NEVER wanted to leave, at least, we never wanted to leave what we remembered of it. it became a dream, an ideal, to us, a glorious lovely thing. maybe it wasn't but damn we don't remember the bad days, if there were any, that's how we survived
I don't know
I'll think about and write that down later
point is, Q, we are sorry, you are lovely, please forgive us
and mel, same to you, we don't remember much of you (we need to re-find 2010) but you were never bad to us, ever, at all, either. hell you were the nicest thing. I guess we just never felt we knew you as well as we wanted to. but we were both troubled at the time. and it just didn't work out as we hoped. an unstable binary system.

where were we
oh, the touch thing
yeah that's weird because… that's why we blank out whenever it happens, WHENEVER it happens, doesn't matter if it's Q or chaos or mel or infi or anyone… anything that's "touch" we dissociate instantly. it's too tied to fear and trauma and shame and confusion and pain
why??
CHILDHOOD.
no personal space equals people can touch you "accidentally"" and NOT APOLOGIZE, even if it's scary and it hurts, "don't whine," basically "I didn't mean to make you react this way BUT now that you did, I'm pissed that it's making ME the villain, therefore shut your mouth and stop having a problem."
sad but true.
the grandmother still has NO sense of propriety or personal space, sometimes it's really really bad, I don’t want to say the worst one, okay fine, a few months back we were standin gin the kicthen cooking and she needed to get into a drawre where we wers standing so she (without telling us or satying anything) knelt down on the floor behind us and actually stuck her head between our legs to get to it'
yeah so
things like that, whenever she wants us to move she NEVER says "move" or "excuse me," she puts a hand on our shoulder and will actually steer us out of the way, it's very upsetting and it feels dirty, we don't like that kind of touch, especially not without any explanation or forewarning

the mother, the mother we don't hate her can we PLEAES call her the sister she is NOT OUR MOTHER
not a "mother"
biologically but that's it, at least I mean she's not a bad person she did super nice stuff for us growing up BUT, but she was never a "MOTHER," that's the point, no pink affection, no safety closeness, no no no, no
her vibe is totally wrong for it, TOTALLY WRONG, maybe that's where the trauma comes in more too, anyway not the point.
point is she
she was talking to the therapist on the phone apparently, therapist told us, mother/sister was saying about how we have a problem with being touched, said it was "utterly ridiculous" and didm't know why we "couldn't just get over it already," therapist said she bit her tongue, didn't argue. but she said it wasn't ridiculous, that made us feel a tiny bit better, it's difficult learning that it's okay to protest things,

the mother does bad things with touching,
well not intentionally, but BAD,
she
the dancing thing, did we write that here, we couldn’t talk about it without heave-sobbing for weeks after it happened,
in our room we have a computer desk in the top left corner, the desk wraps around to the right. so when you're at the computer you are in a little 24-inch spot between the wall and the desk. so one night we're at the computer (standing as it hurts less sometimes) and the mother must have wanted us to watch her videos? she's alwaus fcking forcing us to watch her romance shit and she stands WAY too close and breathes down our nect and makes that horrible grunting noise because she always holds her breath? but
but we don’t like the videos theyre all pop culture sexuality and blatant contrived romance and it makes us very uncomfortable and she'll force us to watch it and then cry and look at us and say "wasn't that beautiful?? wasn't that beautiful???" and we feel really uncomfortable because the video made us unfomcrtable and we KNOW she wants us to say yes, and cry, and fawn over it, but we can't fake that anymore,
anyway I don’t know how we got ther or what we were watching but we end up trapped in this little tiny space with the mother literally bump-grind dancing agintst
d
don’t talk about it
it was really scary. bad bad bad dissociation happened it was actual "fear for life" feeling, can't run cant hide cant protect yourself so brain kind of overheats then thermal shutdown. very bad feeling'
sot that was the worst of it

certain kinds of touches are okay though. we don't calle them "touches."
"soft" touches are NEVER EVER OKAY, EVER, that's why we're sorry Q, we never told you, we were ashamed to tell you, you were just being honest in your own way and we were just trying to like it too, for you, to be "good" to be what you wanted/neede,d but we couldn't I'm sorry
but, soft touches are BAD, especially when they MOVE, god no no
why the fck do we have MEMORIES OF THIS STUFF
WHO DID THIS TO US, WHO
was it all julie???? god how do we even TALK about that,
we didn't even know tactile hallucinations were legit until recently, does that even COUNT
who the fck experiences abuse in an explicitly d.i.d./ dissociated/ psychotic envuronment, how the fck do you talk about that in therapy, we need to put a damn book out there NO ONE goes through this shit,
is it legitimate, do we have a right to heal, was tere ever any pain in the first place, did we make it all up..
its all so distant and scary BUT stuff us happening NOW its WORSE in a horrible way that's what we're tryng to get at keep talking

the only good kinds of touch are brutal. hard. non-intimte. non-personal.
if someone touches you to be "friendly" or "socially welcoming" or whatever it is awful. stop it.
even in close situations, even when alone with someone we trust, NO soft touches EVER, it has to be deliberate, almost depersonalzied, is that weird?
like we don't like people looking at us as a person. we like people looking at us like an idea.
or an object. ironically.
that’s so stupid but its true
that complicates things a lot
people will talk to objects, hit objects, hug objects, etc. without treating them like "people," same with pets, that's what we want. it's comfortable. it's not so piercingly badly direct. but it's honest.
laurie's the best at it, everyone knows, everything she does has tension behind it, it's bliss really
but the pain problem is a whole other damn thing, we're not there yet


you know what here read this fcking article please
https://homeschoolersanonymous.wordpress.com/2013/05/24/asexuality-and-purity-teachings-can-be-a-toxic-mix-christine/
i'm going to talk about it tomorrow with all the other topics, but god, it is too accurate, it says more than i can about too much
i'm actually in fcking tears reading this damn thing, let me just change the topic for now there's too much



you know,you know, e had a thing on xir page once, "you like the characters that remind you of yourself," I still need to think about that more in a non-childhood context but lately it's been upsetting with the leagueworlds
all our favorite characters there have been battered in some way, badly realy, but they have such soft and-or genuine hearts and they just keep going, doing their best,
psyche is the main one lately, vez counts too, devonal, tox, xorane, delphi even, hosea, monika, all the people with hearts that are BROKEN OPEN and even if they might not be the nicest people there is that genuine rawness in them, something that leaves them totally capable of the most sincere feelings, however buried. but it's damage, damage that leads them there, it's terrible
we love people like maitru too, who are so so damn innocent, to the point where it becomes a fire of courage almost, something that CANNOT shatter even when gone through terror, it's REAL innocence without ignorance, it's our ideal. become something unbreakably true and good and loving. but she was never traumatized, she's built differently from us, she stayed the golden child that Jewel is, so to speak, our secret awful wish is to be that all the time, get rid of the trauma forever, but now we're a damn ADULT what do we do


I used to think maybe I was autochorissexual because I fit the bill in some ways BUT
I still don't want OR LIKE "sex"
no matter WHO is having it
but
I KEEP FORGETTING WHAT "SEX" FCKING IS
THAT LABEL GETS SLAPPED ONTO EVERYTHING I FEEL REMEMBER, IT'S FCKING BULLSHIT
that's the damned catch here, AND this goddamned body works in ways that I DON'T and I DON'T WANT THAT
ever ever, only, remember we used to "ship" characters in high school, always unable to tell what's platonic and what's romantic, NEVER sexual, NEVER flirty, always chaste but damn sincere. always. it was the intensity of all the media we saw but with no kissing, no touching, nothing like that. but ALWAYS THIRD PERSON. fck no we never wanted that physically. sorry Q. that was the problem too. online WE were third person, too.
so was hoseki. that's why headspace WORKED. that's why/how she COULD love so many people. once we started seeing through our own eyes, being in the body… we couldn't "love" anymore. we couldn't. the body itself forbade it.
what is it with this damn body, it has its OWN consciousness, we all know it, we can feel it, it's NOT NICE, why the hell won't it let us love ANYTHING

but third person is the brilliant blessed ideal, it's required to exist really
first person means the damn body gets in and starts hating things
it's better to detach from all sense of "self" and just watch yourself as a chosen form, interacting. that allows for honesty and sincerity and purity and love. no contamination or programs. always 3rd person.


why are we so hungry at night I mean we eat a lot, don’t we?
is it because we end up spitting so much back up
you know that’s a very psychological thing, there's so much PURGING going on with us, in ANY/ALL contexts, I think it's the desperate want to just empty out this body of all the negative stuff in it
same reason why we fear swallowing, we don't want to take in any more shit,
the weight is bad too,
god it's all so old.
it takes delicate care to manage this, care and compassion,
and the social fronters DON'T HAVE ANY OF THAT


there's three songs jay's been looping for days now (is this jay?? vaguely at times. lots of bleedover from lots of people like this. in autopilot typing mode of course). they sound just like him.
reminder: do those 8tracks things because tying music to people is so accurate, it catches what words can't, it'll be lovely and anything that reaffirms our existence is a good thing, capital G



what topic do we need to discuss before we get into this damn horrible modern topic
where's that list. lets do that.

1. young asexual, baffled on what "sex" actually was
2. nonsexual liking nonhuman girls age 13
3. eating disorder wanted to stay childlike build
4. highschool alone but didn’t want association w/ peers
5. dissociation from weight gain, sex ed, 'pretty' objectification
6. shame of falling, no dignity, feeling dirty, "like a display"
7. sexualization of purity/innocence (tied to 2)
8. programming being at total odds with soul wants (tied to everything)
9. Q was an ideal, we didn't understand romance
10. always trying to "please everyone" at own expense, SLC triggers
11. touch problems, "no innocent touch," hard contact different
12. third person perspective needed for any sincerity

i think that works
saw two or three topics we didn't discuss yet, they all kind of tie together.

another article we read, and want to quote, ties into eating disorder vs sexualization bit.
"Modesty was not just about dress. It was also about moving like a lady… It is impossible to get physically fit while adhering to ladylike movements only… I was so embarrassed that somebody might walk in front of me while I was on the machine… I started going to the gym the moment it opened in the morning and avoiding exercise when men were present. In this instance, modesty was literally keeping me weak."
terribly relevant article, everything we read today was
but anyway yes that is a BIG THING we struggle with a LOT, and have for years, no idea when exactly it started but it's at least 5 years old.
biggest difference with us is this girl was afraid of "tempting men" with her body, just existing as it was.
we, on the other hand, didn't even really realize that men WERE literally sexual until like, college. it was a totally foreign concept to us personally. so although we were blindly and smilingly dressing/acting/talking to appease men, due to that whole teaching, we were never afraid of them. or if we were some totally different person holds it. again i'm sorry memory is weird. however i am very aware that we were mainly afraid of "tempting women," AND any abusive programming-tied alters by the same token. so it was VERY dangerous because you could not run from the latter. and they were always there. waiting for the deep-horrible programming to be triggered, that same shit, to let them out. blind things. awful things.
i don't want to talk about this yet

13. exercise problem, triggering programming (objectification)

next thing…
oh. the big guns. okay.
14. the pain problem, and
15. the religious/spiritual problem
GREAT the two worst ones! that we struggle to talk about ALL THE TIME. and which are tied probably. also to everything else too.

it's 3am I don't have time to talk about those damn it
therapy is tomorrow anyway I PROMISE I will try REALLY DAMN HARD to talk about those both. we've been trying and I think she's going to ask about 14 specifically.

but

god I came on here to type about the shit that keeps happening and
I'm just going to bite the bullet

I think this is depression. this all-pervading apathy. plus programming.
BUT the therapist reminded us. the body just wants to survive, at all costs. this can make it do some PRETTY AWFUL SHIT. d.i.d. is a survival mechanism but it also doesn't play nice. if the only way to survive a toxic situation was to become someone toxic, THEN THAT HAPPENS.
that's our problem
explicit "blank" dissociation isn't feasible for interactions, like at school or work or with family SO, in those situations alters must exist in order to "safely survive" or some bullshit.
REMEMBER the body defines "survival" as "not being dead," WE define survival by "keeping the soul intact," THEY DON'T LINE UP ALL THE TIME, we lose too much.
read that. please. it hurts.
we lose too much.
the body decides, thanks to the depression haze, "nope, fck you people, too much effort to care or fight anymore, I am too damn tired, just get it over with."
just smile and take it, really
the bullshit they wanted us to do as a kid has FINALLY kicked in, thanks repeated trauma and prolonged stress. that was sarcasm. no thank you, this is hell, this is bullshit

the RELIGIOUS PROBLEM
MAKES THIS WORSE
I really don’t want to think about that any more today. but I have to summarize.
as much as I can at least, today I'm reading about "purity culture" and although a lot of it is totally alien to us (so much talk about men??? but I guess that's normal?) we can empathize with WAY TOO MUCH and so I am educating ourself. hence the quotes earlier. it really is helping get a grip on just WHERE and WHY these toxic programs came from, outside. it helps get a grip on what they are and WHY they are problematic, god willing (ironic perhaps) we will be able to finally heal them as a result. it's tough to pin this shit down when it's NORMALIZED after so many years.
but
shit
I really reallydont want to think about that anymore.

another relevant quote:
"The purity movement both praises and demonizes the asexual person’s identity – which makes it the only queer identity that receives such treatment. It’s good – up until the point when it becomes a problem to be corrected."


this "twin flame" thing
god I don’t even know what that's ABOUT anymore, it's been years since we read about it,
the gist is essentially that creation is polar? masculine/feminine are words we give to the two kinds of creative energy, they work in harmony, it's a universe thing. that manifests on this level as the binary physical sexes of things, to allow for procreation in that sense.
HOWEVER
three problems.
one, people in these spiritual communities saying "therefore, everyone has a counterpart of the opposite energy polarity!" and STRONGLY insinuating that this requires sexual union of some sort,
two, the resulting fear that "you NEED a relationship of that sort in order to be a PROPER SOUL," i.e. that it's a universal constant and if you're asexual/aromantic you REALLY ARE BROKEN AT THE CORE,
and three, us not ever fcking realizing that when OTHER people say "sex" they mean intercourse and procreation and touching and shit,
YEAH WE'RE REALLY CONFUSED.
so you see where THAT fear is coming from, on top of the "purity culture" thing WHICH SAYS,
1. a female-sexed body is inherently sexual,
2. if you have a female-sexed body you MUST "save it for a man,"
3. as well as "protect men from it,"
4. your purity will be the measure of your desirability,
5. you must get married and have children and be totally subservient to your husband,
6. good luck if you're not cis, straight, sexual, or romantic
you get the picture. bull SHIT.
except we believe it.
except we STILL FCKING BELIEVE ALL OF IT on some level and it is HELL.
so.
do you get an idea
of what it is like living with ALTERS WHO RUN ON THAT SHIT

god I want to cry
I really fcking do I am miserable

the pain problem
the fcking pain problem
ties into all sorts of shit
we're discussing it with the therapist.

a piece we never put with it before.
1. we never had a "mother" figure growing up.
in other words, we never had someone to give us PURE SAFE COMPASSION and affection and closeness, MOTHERLY things, soft pink fluffy light vibes, as a child. none of that. NONE of that.
instead the person we called our "mother," and our grandmother who effectively WAS our "mother" from a caretaker standpoint… both of them used pain and anger and fear as disciplinary action.
the problem was, disciplinary action was the only time we got real attention.
you see where this is going
the mother did a lot for us. seriously, we thank her profusely for it and we are very glad for it. she took us to fairs and concerts and movies, she read to us and paid for our music lessons, we went on walks and played games together, etc. yeah for us personally a lot of it was VERY sensory overwhelming but the experiences were largely good. we're glad for that.
but. her presence in those things was utterly minimal, as a mother. all the time, she was a KID, she was someone I called "mom" but really who fit the bill of an older sister, or a single woman who was just around when I was. she didn't act married, she didn't act like a parent. I hate to sound cliché with that but it's the gist of it.
but. and this breaks my heart.
none of my parents were loved by their parents. NONE of them.
my grandfather, grandmother, and father were all outright ABUSED and my grandmother justified it, even when telling me she "almost died" and she "couldn't forgive her father for years" and it "still hurts to think about." god that is SO FCKING SAD why didn't she tell me before now, I'm fcking 25 years old and NOW my family is telling me that THEY went through shit too??? and now their behavior makes sense but it's SO SAD
my mother insists that my grandparents were very non-affectionate towards her, and she was very rebellious and angry towards them I know so. still is. but if my grandparents had such shitty treatment then it's NO WONDER they didn't know how to raise a child. plus i know for a FACT, because I've SEEN it, that their marriage is abusive. like it's terrifying sometimes, it comes out of nowhere
sooo stick those four people in a house together and give them a new baby to raise and something's gonna get fcked up somewhere down the line.
anyway that's not the point. I love them and forgive them totally. BUT.
the pain stuck. it's good, but it's bad.
they did not know how to show affection, largely. my dad did the best. he promised himself he'd never treat his kids like his parents treated him, and he really did a good job, as well as he could manage. I deeply am thankful for that.
but. the grandmother would hit us as children, if we did something bad. oftentimes I didn't know why.
and I have no fcking idea when that changed from "uh-oh, I'm in trouble, I'm gonna get beaten" and the paralyzing fear, the hiding anywhere I could find, the desperate hiding of sticks and belts so she couldn't harm us, into suddenly wanting to be hurt?
it had to be around whatever time I started biting my arms and banging my head off the walls to relieve stress and anger and other awful overpowering emotions I couldn't express or understand. self-inflicted pain was profoundly reassuring in some terrible way, when it wasn't self-punishment that is… and even then it kind of gained a sick sort of value, a feeling of something REAL, a feeling of physical contact that was solid and tangible and not scary, something I had control over.
pain was… pain was the replacement for never having safe affection
pain was "touch" that I desperately needed in an innocent child way and never got the way I needed
pain was
god now I'm just going to start describing laurie aren't I
pain was protective and predictable and reassuring and scary too, but damn it at least it stayed with me, at least it stuck under my skin like fire and made me feel like I EXISTED for a while.
and then of course.
pain does give you endorphins.
addictions have started from lesser things


so.
take one part pain addiction,
one part lack of/ desperate need of affection & closeness,
one part childhood naïveté and hope,
and then
add in the purity culture shit.
add in the fear and self-doubt and confusion that came with it.

then add in julie.

you see where this is going

I've talked about this before I'm sure, countless times, but maybe not to this extent, maybe not with this much willingness to be brutally honest about the AFTEREFFECTS of it and the horrible consequences that we are STILL struggling with.
like I said we're discussing this in therapy for the first time EVER, I have no idea who's going to end up out talking about it, we might have to just turn on the A.P. and feed it mad amounts of data

hatchet, cannon, and jay all talked on monday. we got a lot discussed.

geez I just keep… I just keep skipping this topic,
I really really don’t want to talk about it,


all right so the brutal horrible shameful confusing suicidal truth is,
we are still addicted to pain,
we still are bereft of affection and human closeness.
we are still convinced this body is inherently sexual,
we are still convinced we exist to be an object of entertainment for others,
we are still convinced that our worth is determined by our sexuality,
we are still convinced that to "be good" we HAVE to be sexual,
and we are in an environment/culture that tends to emphasize a lot of this.

there are alters,
t
in this system,
who keep pursuing sexual violence
and abuse
BECAUSE
not only are they convinced it is "required to be holy"
but
the programming says "you must like/want this"
and
the pain and fear tied to it is confusing everyone else.

there it is, there's the fcking awful truth that makes me want to kill ourself every day,
you ruin sometihng once that's not enough,
we're not just damaged goods we're fcking trash,
we are literal fcking garbage,
you won't stop abusing this body because you're convinced it's "HOLY" or it's "GOD'S WILL"
GOD DOESN'T WANT YOU SELLING YOURSELF BECAUSE SOMEONE ELSE INSISTED ON A PRICE TAG DAMN IT. YOU'RE WORTH MORE THAN YOUR DAMN BIOLOGY.
except
except part of us learned the opposite and that part is the one screaming "I am the morally correct option"
why the hell
WHY

the blessed thing is that now that we're understanding what's going on,
where the time is going, who's doing what,
what triggers the bad people, etc.
headspace is getting REALLY PISSED OFF.

chaos and infinitii are not taking any shit from anyone with this
laurie is really freaked out because they keep targeting her so she's staying at a distance, (she doesn't understand this stuff anyway) BUT julie and lynne are helping her out,
hell ALL of headspace is together and helping out,
that's good at least, it's all color in here.
but outside
outside it's bleach and tar and it's killing us.

the bottom line is that one alter is convinced that sex=holiness and they are FORCING it no matter how traumatic it is,
and the other problem is,
they don't even realize what "sex" IS, and frankly neither do most of us
that's a really big fcking problem
because here's a fun fact for you,
the SLIGHTEST, SMALLEST trigger that could even be PERCIEVED as sexual, ESPECIALLY if it is direct (like within 2, 3 feet of us, or actual contact)… makes us INSTANTLY DISSOCIATE.
it's a recipe for disaster.
we said this before. "the ones who actually endured the abuse don't fight back." THAT IS WHY. because in order to fight back you need to be CONSCIOUS for the most part, and those situations are SO DAMN FRIGHTENING that NO ONE WANTS TO BE IN THEM.
no one but the killers at least, and "they aren't allowed out, they're mean, they're dangerous," no SHIT they're PROTECTORS,
but this one fcking alter, the WORST one, they are the worst because they are sugarcoated, this ONE alter decides to force trauma and DOESN’T CARE because,
they don't FEEL it,
they don't UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY'RE DOING,
they are CONVINCED IT'S THE "RIGHT THING" fck I am so tired of going in circles



god how do we get this programming out of our head
how do we convince ourselves that we are allowed to live without selling ourself
how do we stop reducing our spiritual worth to whether or not we can "have sex"
how do we stop this shit

and,
how the fck do we separate affection/ closeness/ intimacy/ etc. from sex and sensuality,
because dear god, it is HORRIBLE,
to STILL be a child who just wants to be loved,
who just wants human attention,
and who only ever got violated or abused.

it's fcking bullshit
it's still happening

god i just want to love people, i want to be able to love MYSELF/OURSELF without feeling like a fcking whore
or even worse, feeling damned to act like one because "that's the only fcking option i have"


we need a mother figure but we are so fcking terrified of women at this point, it's so sad, and this DAMN PROGRAMMING makes it so that the INSTANT someone touches us we go into PUPPET MODE and we freeze up and dissociate and put on a smile and start ACTING in a way that treats ourself like an OBJECT for the other person to fcking CONSUME.

DAMN IT OUR SELF-IMAGE LITERALLY SEES US AS AN OBJECT FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO USE AS THEY PLEASE AND IF WE GO AGAINST THAT WE ARE "A SINNER" OR SOME SHIT GOD DAMN IT

WE LITERALLY SEE OURSELF AS SOMETHING TO BE USED.

there I said it.
it's going to be really fcking hard to fight this alter until we fix that
it's power is coming from that exact mindset
"my worth is defined by my fckability"
in every goddamned context
I hate it
I hate it
god I hate it, we all do


I'm so tired.
I hope this makes some sort of sense, I can feel it got all jumbled at the end, I hope I closed up all the loose ends.

oh, forgot to mention.
16. we can't like/want/desire anything without it being both immoral and sexual
that was the big thing on friday.
we literally wouldn't even buy food for ourself because we "WANTED" it, and it wasn't absolute "basic food" (literally just raw vegetables) therefore it was a "luxury." so of COURSE we were UTTERLY FCKING ASHAMED for daring to WANT something, let alone something so SELFISH, a WASTE, etc.
we honestly screamed/sobbed for about an hour over what a "whore" we were for "being so selfish" etc.
it was terrible
but yeah that’s the eating disorder, tied into that yet again

the whole "can't want/desire" anything is largely spiritual. we get the gist of it mainly, but it's been badly twisted to the point of "if god doesn't give you food, you're not allowed to ask for any, because that's being demanding and egotistic." seriously. and it's always about food because let's face it, these damn bodies need food to run, and that belief goes down to the very basics.
but the "can't like anything" bit comes from the mother. again.
she is… she's an… I don't want to say this.
she exudes sexuality. too much. she reeks of it, to a bad extent. it's not her fault. but it makes us very uncomfortable around her. is it our fault? i don't know
but she's showy, too showy, we used to hate watching her eat, she makes such a noisy mess about it, she is literally addicted to food, she likes it TOO much, yes guess what… tied into sexuality again
she once said chocolate was "better than sex" and after that we could never watch her eat it because that's the vibe we'd get from it,
also probably why chocolate is strictly forbidden in this system
also sugar. also any sorts of sweet things. it's all fake sweetness. all stuff the mother would buy in lieu of actual affection. all stuff she'd eat with way too much obvious enjoyment for us to be comfortable.
I'm repeating myself, I've said all this before
but.
all that rooted in our head. and we have VERY BAD BOUNDARIES. you know that too.
that's a topic for tomorrow though, believe me, I've started a separate document so you WILL be hearing about it.
but the relevance here is, if SHE did something like that, we would feel OBLIGATED to do the same thing, because we could feel it. we are that "sensitive" to people. we feel everything they do, sometimes.
so we couldn't tell if we REALLY felt the way she did, or if we were feeling HER emotions/ actions/ etc., or if we were MIMICKING her out of a lack of self-identity and the obligation to "be what they want"….

it makes life difficult.
point 8. the programming goes against everything we are.

why do I keep talking about this

I don't want this happening again, do you hear me, PLEASE
THAT ISN'T WHAT WE'RE LOOKING FOR
THAT ISN'T WHAT WE NEED
YOU'RE HURTING US, YOU'RE MAKING US SICK
I'M NOT LYING
I'M NOT SAYING IT BECAUSE I'M BAD
I'M NOT TRYING TO SHAME OR MANIPULATE YOU
YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS BODY
YOU'RE NOT "DOING US A FAVOR" WITH WHAT YOU'RE DOING
YOU'RE NOT "MAKING US HOLY"
OKAY
STOP
PLEASE
WE'RE ALL REALLY SCARED AND WE DON'T LIKE THIS
WE HURT A LOT AND WE MOSTLY WANT TO DIE
IF YOU STOP WE WON'T HAVE TO
if you stop

if you stop doing this we can say alive and get better okay
please, please, stop,
if you think stopping is not good then talk to us PLEASE
write notes if you have to, take recordings,
just STOP PLEASE
stop
why are you doing it, why

fck off it's NOT A "CONNECTION TO GOD"
YOU KNOW WHAT IS??
YOU KNOW WHAT IS??????
THE SHIT YOU KEEP FORBIDDING US FROM DOING BECAUSE YOU KEEP JUMPING THE FCK IN AND CORRUPTING IT
STOP MAKING EVERYTHING ABOUT "LIVING UP TO" THE GODDAMNED PROGRAM DAMN YOU
WE'RE ALLOWED TO BE DIFFERENT
WE'RE ALLOWED TO HAVE THIS

I'm allowed to love people without having to have "sex" with them, okay?
Stop. You're regurgitating the most toxic phrase we've ever internalized and it is literally destroying us.



I don't want anyone writing anymorehere tonight its late and were feeling sick lets not think about this anymore tonight ok
therapy is tomorrow lets see what she says instead. good night everyone







may 4 2015

May. 4th, 2015 11:21 pm
prismaticbleed: (held)

 


 

 

I'm reading old Xangas and my heart is shattering.
I need this but God it hurts. God it hurts, because things as far back as 2008 are STILL APPLICABLE NOW.

In a way it's exciting. In a way it's terrifying.
Lately we've been seeing so much more clearly, to huge extents.




I'm listening to Fantasy in FL with a "party next door" filter on, and the bass modded so that it's a rumble in the chest, the warm rumbling resonance that always reminds me of car engines in my dad's garage, red lovely speedsters with glossy paint and fire in their wheels. the REAL kind of summer feeling, the good kind.

about that. it's summer now, as far as we're concerned, with this heat.
we do NOT like the heat, at ALL.
for some reason, warm weather "feels like trauma?" not sure why yet, but there are a few pointers:
1. amusement parks. we DESPISE THEM.
2. the local "lake beaches." we ALSO despise those.
3. the fact that the first physical encounter with Q happened in the summer and it was not healthy.
4. as a child the grandmother would announce every thunder/wind storm with "I hope it burns/blows this house down," usually for the reason of "god punishing" us. she'd be gleeful about this. I'd be terrified.
5. heat in general is just instant sensory overload.

summer, as a child, was defined by "do everything and anything the mother said," which basically meant that we were going to go on long hot tiring car trips, to loud busy bright places with crowds and scary brass music and people always bumping into us and not being able to go home or have quiet or do what we wanted to.
summer smells like cigarettes and gravel dust and funnel cakes and lake water and chalk and the garage and thunderstorms.
summer as a child was defined by painful hyperarousal to the point of total dissociation, loud noises and lights, manic energy, and the total lack of autonomy and feelings of safety/security/peace.
so yeah summer is not cool. literally too.
also you can't "run from" the heat. in winter you can have warmth alongside the cold, you don't need to fight it, you just need to bring in heat. but in summer, you can't really bring in cold! the cold just feels like it's fighting an uphill battle. there's always that sweltering heaviness behind it. it feels like a fever pressing all over our body from the outside and it is terrible.

that's important to mention.
heat gives us almost-instant panic attacks, we've noticed.
in the summer, it's scary to drive because we psychologically can't cope with the heat, and we start blacking out at the wheel. the mind literally tries to shut down instead of just dissociating.
there's this little boy alter who was out in 2013, I remember-- there was a big entry we wrote with him back then that the computer ate and I am really sorry about that-- he keeps coming out and sobbing about the heat. he is straight-up terrified of it. again we're not sure how to comfort him yet because we're all having trouble with it.

also. as a result of all this, we were wondering… childhood aside (that's a blur in any case), why is it that we CANNOT remember the summer at large, notably past 2009?
like literally, right now our brain is solid stuck in 2009. spinzor keeps coming out, of all people, wondering why we aren't going to illustration class and letting her chill out in coffeeshops with her laptop. it's a legit backtrack to that time period. it's shocking. GOOD though. spinzor holds part of the jewel bloodline and therefore she is 1) tied to the leagueworlds and 2) an optimistic, non-traumatized voice. THANK GOD.

in the summer we need people out who can survive the summer.
that is why we cannot remember summers. CERTAIN PEOPLE ONLY FRONT IN THE SUMMER. they do not appear at ALL during the winter, and their memories are apparently not shared, and so we "forget" that whole time period.
but summer fronters are close to manics, that's the problem. fiery people can survive the fire. that's part of why we don't like summer, too-- that energy is not nice.
spinzor isn't full manic though. she has the red edge but she's air-conditioned, if you get the vibe. she's a super energetic summer voice, without the sweltering heat.
glissando should start coming out once the trees turn green and summer nights start happening, if she still exists. we'll see. it'll be interesting.
we’re going to be paying very close attention to who comes out, and who is triggered, this summer. like I said, we're becoming much much more aware of things and it's exciting and scary but here we are, and we're going to play this hand we've been dealt.


back to the beginning.
we've been seeing things much more clearly lately.
intuition is getting a LOT sharper. we're learning to listen to it better, and follow it better, now that we can tell when it's US and not the floating voices. it's progress.
we're slowly letting go of the past too. old timelines are crumbling even more. we can look back at stored memories but they're no longer as painful as they were. time heals I guess. maybe we should thank cel for that


there's so much we've forgotten.
I think that's why my heart is downright glowing when I'm reading these old entries. We've forgotten so much, due to "normalcy" numbing and bleaching and all that. We've forgotten us, we've forgotten our very heart.

Lately, a lot of 'selfless' fronters have been saying that. They'll say something with a broad "I," not a personal pronoun, or a non-individualized "we," speaking for the System. I've noticed we can all get that sometimes, when we speak for "us" as a whole… but, someone was talking the other night to Laurie and it said, effectively, that even if they didn’t know who she was, "the heart" did? Like, there's this base "self" way deep down, the core of the System and all of us, a well of pure consciousness of sorts… and it holds these bigger truths. One of them, apparently, is that all mains/ cores/ etc. have this deep sort of devotion to Laurie, regardless of how close they personally are to her.
I think we have Cannon to thank for that. That warms my heart, too.

Speaking of Cannon, and Spinzor/Glissando earlier… I ACTUALLY got Blueshift to WORK yesterday (she's our old hard drive who has been on the fritz since at least 2012) and so I quickly salvaged ALL the old League files we had on there… and then I decided to look through the old "all pictures" folder, which had stuff in it dated from 2009-2010. Well! Organizing it by date, I actually was able to get a rough grip on what was happening when. Most significantly, I found glissando's old avatars, which were the only things ze ever used to represent hirself (ze had no self-image, which was unusual). So yeah, I was able to get some timestamps and that helped clarify our internal timeline a little more.
Like we said earlier, it's exciting. Looking back now, we can see so much, pieces are falling right into place now.

Chaos is… doing incredibly well lately. It's such a relief. He's been battling Perfect since we met him, but within the past month or so-- mainly since E sent us his new anchor plush-- he's been so in-tune with himself.
He's more acutely aware of just how sensitive he is, what with literally being made of water and crystals. Both those things react, receive, and hold outside information. That can be used for incredible good, or terrible evil. He's been dealing with both, for many many years.
Perfect seems to have split off more from him now though. I've been seeing him lately as his own person again, like he used to appear way back in 2005 or so, before he inexplicably became internalized. I don't know if he's moving into "daemon" territory now or what? Genesis seems to be going through the same thing lately. I'll keep you posted; I'm trying to reach out to Infi more lately in any case (ze's been distant due to crippling self-doubt) and Chocoloco is still talking to me almost daily, so Daemons are pretty front-and-center in my mind.
Anyway. CZ feels like himself, which is hard to explain. I know when he's unstable, or slipping, or "not all there." I know when he's picking up too much subconscious radiation to really "be himself." And I know when none of that is happening. Lately, that's how it's been.
…I think the hacks pushed him to this, really. Everyone's been so distraught, and with the Tar/Plague still trying to use him to get at me, I guess he just put his foot down. Let's put it this way: if I, when standing in my integrity, am white fire, then he is a wall of water. There's this solid power to him that I miss, quite frankly. He's shining so much. He's smiling more and he's not afraid, he's not dim-eyed or confused and he's being vigilant with me and the other core-fronters too.
I love him. I love him a lot. There's a light in my heart that goes on whenever I think about him and it makes me smile just as brightly. But I'm not the only one who loves him. Like I said, there are past core-fronters who still exist, not "behind" me but alongside me. I'm NOT the only "main person" right now-- actually, it could be argued that I'm one of the people who's out the least. I'm the System Core, but I'm NOT the Main Fronter, and I don't hold the Jewel Bloodline either. See what I mean? There are other people around and a lot of them are out around CZ and they know him too.
There's one of them that feels sort of like Cannon (I think their roots are around early 2010?), and "she" has been phasing in at night lately, for little bits. Chaos recognizes when she's out and he's been kind to her.
That's another thing. Chaos is learning to ASK, always. If "I" get switchy upstairs, he'll ask-- "who am I talking to now? Do you have a name? How about a color? How old are you? What year is it? Do you know who I am?" Things like that. It's so helpful. I am… really damn proud that this creature is in my life, haha. It's hard to put into words. I just adore his existence, just as it is.
I think his renewed presence in our collective life, as stable as it is now, is a huge part as to why we've been doing so much better lately. We've always known he's important to us, after all. Plus anyone who is tied to genuine love has even more "punch" in terms of influence and significance. Love is huge up here. It heals everything. It keeps us together. It's light, light itself.


About those Xanga entries.
I wasn't the one who started reading them but the page is staring me in the face and I can feel the punch behind those, too. There's so much sheer love tied to reading them, that's the main thing.
Isn't it funny, how that love is actually what makes it so difficult to review this stuff, and to get "back in tune" with the System? It's unbearably beautiful sometimes. Often. Typically. Always, I daresay. But, when you're trying to "survive" in the "real world" by being "normal" all the time… well, that sort of ardor is frowned upon. It's sad, but it's true. Hence all our numb and abusive social fronters. But we're becoming more aware, all of us, and we're standing up to that now. We're being braver. We're forsaking "normal" for "true" and we are slowly, but surely, trying to act consciously at all times, in accordance with who WE are within. Programming has got to stop.

There's so much else I need to write. Good heavens. SO much has been happening lately and there haven't been many "daily" updates, due to the traumatized people (bless their hearts, broken as they are) updating in the wake of negative things. I've… been mostly sheltered from that, honestly. Again, I have to be. But I'm not being forced to front now, either, which is both preserving me and helping others. The fighters, like Overload, are now able to show up. The impervious ones, like Jewel and Spinzor, are also freely allowed to take over. I'm no longer being shoved into the driver's seat when I should be staying at home, haha. I'm an internally-rooted voice, so that's not my job anyway!
In any case I type the most, ideally-- and when it's not dealing with daily raw data, of course. The Archivists could hand that stuff to me but it's going to sound flat if they do. Let those who lived it type it up.

We learned a lot even just today, we had to take a bunch of notes on the voice recorder. I'll transcribe them into here soon. I also apologize because although I FINALLY got the files off Mitchell, the old one, there are literally 81 of them and that's several hours of audio! So I haven't transcribed a lot of those yet. I should. There's at least one really gorgeous one from after we first read Island in 2012 or so. I'd especially like to share that one, and make it permanently recorded here. It's… now that I think of it, that one's also touchingly relevant in light of recent events, too. I should listen to it tomorrow.


…But the love is unbearable. I think it's only because we've been closed off from it for so long.
That's why the hackers keep getting to the hurt ones, the sad ones. They want love but they're scared, because in order to receive love they have to see themselves as someone that CAN be loved, and there's this initial blindingly bright existential validation to it… an incredulously blissful "I exist?" that stomps down into your heart like iron, and you're never the same again. But becoming, for lack of a better term, aches. Once you are, once you gain a color or a face or a name, once you are something more than a ghost… well, then things hurt. Then you have to take life with both the joy and the pain. I think a lot of the damaged faceless ones aren't ready for that, or able to have that, in some cases… it's something we need to reflect upon more.
I should try anyway. It blows my mind, to look at Julie and realize that I, or at least the gem of truth in my heart that has always been "I," even before this particular incarnation inside… to realize that I, through love and faith alone, was able to give her enough hope to become who she is now. Of course I'm not solely responsible, heavens no, but… I think I was the first to even try sending love to her, back when she was still corrupt. And it mattered.
…That was always my true power up here, wasn't it? Love. The capacity to love. The willingness to love even when it was scary or painful or terribly difficult.

The ironic thing is that, at least for me, having a fixed form/ body makes it terrifically difficult to show love. It gets in the way in every sense of the word. That's kind of why I prefer to stay inside.

…Today, this evening, Chaos said to me… effectively, "thank you for being as faithful to me as I am to you."
It was the sentiment of fidelity, of steadfastness, of sticking around through the good times and the bad. He said it to me. I actually paused for a second to take that in. I mean, I have, I've NEVER given up on him, even during those times when "I" literally forgot who he was… I remembered, love is a choice. Love is a state of being. Love is something I promised to this creature over ten years ago, and damn it but I'm not going to break that promise even if I don't understand it right now, because there's something in my heart-- in this heart-- that still loves him.
That's what the vague fronters mean when they speak for the System, in facts. That’s what I mean when I say love is powerful, that it is the biggest thing that matters. It has put down anchors in our very soul that hold us fast to our best selves, to the most luminous version of what we can be. It lets us be beacons of that.
It's not something that translates well into words. I want to live it, actively. That's what we're trying to conquer this "normalcy" for, too. It's difficult to be so openly loving when you're busy trying to decide if that love is "socially acceptable" or whatever. People lately seem to be so emotionally stunted, or censored… so many people wear masks and follow scripts and it hurts. I know, we're struggling with that too, unfortunately. But I try to be a light, always. Whenever possible, without fail, if I can put down all the walls and just glow, then I will.
I mean, complete strangers still walk up to me with smiles and start genuine trusting conversations. I don't try to fake conversation anymore. I want to bring kindness and hope and happiness and courage wherever I go. I'm starting to learn that I don't have to do anything to accomplish that, after all. I just have to be who I am.


There's a lot that needs to be written yet, but it's terribly late and we're not going to get much sleep again tonight… gosh darn it I always get carried away with these things. Sorry.
I do want to read more of those Xangas before I update again, so I can talk more about them. I apologize for not doing so tonight, or letting whoever started that continue to do so. I guess it was too much all at once, for today, on top of everything else. But the intention is there, it's not fading, no one's running away. That's good.

Remind me to talk about the Leagueworld work that's been being done lately, most notably for Parnassus. There's some really beautiful insight and development that's coming in, and applying itself to all the Worlds in heartspace, which I want to talk about. It ripples out to us, too, it always does.
There's also been a lot more emphasis on color significance lately, again, to both us and the League. I'm putting a file together to be constantly updated and I adore this stuff so it's doing me good. It's also very intriguing so if I find out anything really relevant or even just really cool I will let you know.
But the League work has been very heart-based as of late and that is significant. It… I think that's losing the shadows the Plague tried to shove into it. I hope to God that's true. We're burning it off in any case, really.

I feel like maybe I'll be able to write poetry again soon. I hope so. I miss that.


Good night, everyone. I love you all, and wish you the best.

(now I really should go see my boss because I miss him too and I am late for work, you know)

 




 

 

 

030515

Mar. 5th, 2015 12:10 am
prismaticbleed: (held)

 


(extracted from another entry as it began to fragment out)

...Someone we love wrote about this too, lately. Creating things, and that drive to make something beautiful, to just allow all that to become. We're in that state now too, in and out admittedly, but I don't think it's going away now. We missed it too much, it welcomed us back with open arms, "just be careful, okay?"
And that's the thing about Mage Angels; there's so much pain and bitterness there, it's in Parnassus too, and vo!t@ge... there's a lot of scathing hurt scattered about. It does hurt to write sometimes, especially as the "author," the chosen observer who has to write it all down, but not interfere, at least not without being asked or without clear permission. I remember, "I" stopped writing vo!t@ge for a very long time because I couldn't bear watching a certain boy die. Whoever our core was then, their heart still aches terribly at the thought. But death is inevitable, for him, one way or another. So it is for many others who we can't forget. And then there are those who live in pain, one way or another.
But I know the feeling. I know the feeling. "Is this something I should be writing?" I love these individuals I write about too, with their mistakes and flaws and fears... but their stories hurt, bottom line.
I'm rambling, I'm so sorry. I don't want this to turn into platitudes. That helps no one.
Point is maybe I'm just a sparkle-eyed idiot but maybe that's my job, to love anyway, to shine light anyway, to see hope anyway. With Infinitii I've learned the value of darkness, of those broken and hurt and angry souls. Where would Parnassus be, if not for Delphi's sins, for Genesis' flaws? Mage Angels wouldn't even HAVE a message to give, if not FOR the amount of suffering it held even so. And Dream World, yes even there, I can name several people who have been less than bright. And yes, it hurts to write it all. I think it always will. But you're so right, it's all just as valuable as the good, I mean geez just look at these archives, that's been burnt into our brains again and again. Too much light is just as dangerous as too much dark. They each need the other to be fully realized and understood and appreciated, in this world.

 


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

 


@ 01:13 am

 

 

Let me try to update a bit. Hello everyone.

(This isn't quite Jay, btw, not 100%. He's fogging in-and-out with what he's tied to. Jewel and the AP are also working at this. It's usually a jumble of those three, and a bunch of unidentified socials. Life's been somewhat tossed-about lately (not bad, just shaky) and that does mess up common fronters so we apologize.)


First things first, as this has been on my mind. There's a message in my inbox that I can't rightfully respond to yet because I didn't read the entry that preceded it. The therapists insists we do so before tomorrow as we are going to be discussing it in-session and I honestly have no clue what was written.
It was all one author, though, all one social author, which is rare. She's written before and she is strongly tied to Overload, but they appear to be subtly different. Both are Brown, and their energies are close, but it's distinguishable.
Most notably, Overload knows about "the Upstairs." She has interacted with us directly before, while the previous author has not. She's just now accepting us entirely, expanding her worldview to include us, consciously. That's big; ALL faceless voices MUST first feel and admit the existence of headspace, in order to gain faces and names, and in time, colors. Most people like that are Socials, though, who almost always come in as Brown at first due to strong links to the body's past (Brown deals with physicality), and the problem is that most Socials exist separate from headspace on purpose, due to the extreme danger a connectedness would have posed in the past: inner matters and outer matters did not blend for quite some time. We tried, sure, but it didn't work well or often. Even the few spotty memories we have from Spinny/Cannon's days in 2008 or so are sandwiched between huge gaps, big empty memory packs that the Socials dealt with and never passed onto us because they were cut off from us by their nature. They were "alters" too, but they weren't "headvoices." We're now realizing that there IS a difference. Therapy is teaching us stuff, making us ask questions and stop taking so much of ourselves for granted. "Downstairs" is still tied to us, via the body we reside in, and that's a relatively "new" concept in its entirety, one which we are still unfortunately struggling with on a daily basis.
Anyway what I'm trying to say is... a lot's been happening? Even if it's just small things, they're adding up. Which is surprising when we stop and look at it... it's all background work mostly, things significant and vital but small enough to be overlooked at first? We shouldn't be doing that either, but to be blunt, we're still recovering from the smothering apathy-doubt of 2014 and re-embracing headspace into our daily life is taking time, little steps forward. At least we're walking.

It hurts to type. I apologize. Our workspace is highly problematic right now and typing for extended periods of time is painful. Suffice to say, our desk/ laptop/ chair don't line up with each other, so. But we'll manage, we'll figure something out.


Last night I read the entirety of Paranatural again because I desperately needed a laugh, and because I needed to get a better grip on the concepts/ history/ etc. in it, with how serious the plot is becoming. I love that comic though; I will promote it every chance I get, haha.

I'm on the last Young Wizards book, at long last. I've had people compare me to one of the characters in this book before (he's autistic apparently) and I've just gotten to his introduction; so far the descriptions are thought-provokingly accurate. I'll keep you posted on that too; the concepts in this book series have strongly inspired me and I'll likely try to write an entry about it when I'm done.
...I never did write an entry for His Dark Materials, did I. I guess that felt too impossible, with how profoundly it affected me. I know I've written about those affectations, how they put deep roots into our psyche-- the daemons, the fruit, the gates-- but there was nothing solid and structured. Nevertheless I think I have notes on this computer. If not I'll just check the book out again, in the future. Right now I'm a little overwhelmed with data, there's too much reading, all the words are making this brain foggy.

Similarly, I didn't do much on Wednesday/Thursday last week, because someone spent two solid nights watching standup poetry on Youtube and we got terrible "style lag" from it. That's our superpower-slash-curse: if we become powerfully absorbed in some art form, some media creation, et cetera-- like the verbal structure of spoken poetry, the dialogue and art style of a comic, a musician's personal flair-- it will stick. For hours or more afterwards, we will be able to emulate that, but we can't control it. It runs amok, really. Last night I had to keep apologizing to headspace because everything looked like it was drawn by Zack Morrison. Last week, we couldn't even think without it turning into a stage delivery. Sure, we were able to write some really cool poetry as a result (it's in the works, I'll let you know when it's done), but the flipside was that I couldn't work in my own style, let alone think, as I said. So trying to recover from that kept us offline for the weekend, entirely so.
(Nevertheless there are a few poems I need to share with you guys, remind me to do so.)

Even worse, we've been trying to talk to people online, just randomly, trying to find local artists and musicians and the like in the hope of finding similar minds. It's... well, it's exhausting. It's one thing to find folks and send a line or two, "hey I heard you're into this creative thing too," et cetera, but remember we don't usually talk to people. No IMs, no steady stream of small messages, things like that. At first someone thought it was a "character flaw" I guess and decided we "should be talking to EVERYONE," and then when we actually started getting things in the inbox the reaction was... well, "dread" is the only word that works. Yeah, some of these people are really cool, and it's interesting to answer some questions, but for heaven's sakes conversation is hell. We're currently considering just abandoning all the talk, pulling a "French leave" and disappearing unannounced, completely. It's draining our batteries dead, honestly maybe this is something "wrong with us" but this attempt, one of many similarly failed attempts of the exact same sort, regardless of genuine effort... this has just proven that we just can't socialize. Is that bad? Does that make us a freak? What if we function better alone? What if we still want friendships, just those that don't force us to constantly chatter and message people? And I'm not talking about the one in our LJ inbox, that's perfect, that's the point I want to make here... that works. It works perfectly. We're just crushed by guilt for not being "normal" sometimes, which is frustrating.

We've been filling out a lot of job applications too, which is almost as draining as talking to people directly. There aren't many jobs in this area-- it's a small town, kind of in the boondocks; most of this area is trucking and factories. We've tried factory work, and the few bits of data we have from it are making us hesitang to try again. Fast-paced production, no room for mistakes or confusion caused by our sensory input problems... lots of noise, no light. It's not a healthy environment for us and honestly we can't function well like that, we wouldn't be helping anyone. So we try to swallow the weird shame and worthlessness we feel for "making excuses," and put in applications for store work. Cashiers, mostly-- everything else requires experience we don't have. We could handle stock work, we think, but can't find any local openings-- and location is key, as we don't have reliable transportation. Nevertheless we need money. We thank God every day that our grandparents are still living, and helping support us, because our "mother" has said flat-out multiple times that she would not do the same. Let's leave it at that. Bottom line though is that it's still hard to live on $70 a month for groceries when you're struggling with eating disorders. Lord knows we're trying, but it's not an overnight fix. Is it? Should it be? Is it even a matter of "iron willpower" at all? We're so used to saying "we only have problems because we weren't strong enough," that we get confused when someone tells us "grief is a normal process" or"anger is a normal reaction" or "what they didn't wasn't your fault" or "you need time to heal."
That's one bit in A Wizard Alone that stood out so far, actually. "...Some autistic people have trouble conceiving of anything existing outside the workings of their own minds. The concept of 'the other' seems to take a long time forming. That's part of why so many of them can't make or keep eye contact with other people..." I read that and just thought, "geez that's applicable." Especially that first bit, with reality-- that's been a constant our entire life, and we didn't realize it was unusual until we started reading stuff like this. I don't know if eye contact plays into it though? I've never really thought about that, maybe I should. We had to at our last therapy session, actually-- she started laughing during a monologue, I asked why, she said we were like a cat with a laser pointer. She pointed out that when she talks, and moves her hands, we watch her hands like a hawk. Our eyes follow every movement. I laughed at that, a little surprised, and then I remember that we instinctively stuttered out "hands are easier to understand than faces." That gave me pause, as I'd never had to "defend" that tendency before, and hearing that immediate response was intruguing. So there's that. Also though, looking at a face while listening is terribly overwhelming. There's too much stress. Not only is the attention deafening, it's also demanding-- I can either listen and understand your speech, or try to do all the little "social actions" that making eye contact usually accompanies. If someone's looking at me, they're usually expecting me to conform to a certain standard of "correct behavior" and I then have to guess what it is every millisecond. It's exhausting. Long story short, if I don't look at you, I can be an individual, I can listen and learn, I don't have to talk or smile or move a certain way. When I have to look at you, that all goes out the window. The only time I will comfortably look at someone in the eyes is, ironically, when I'm staring on my own agenda. If I don't have to listen to anything, but I think you have nice eyes, I will stare at them. But then I get confused and stressed when people start talking, or stare back, etc. You know what, I guess that is proof of the whole "no sense of otherness" thing! Because I expect them to just let me stare, that they're just some observable being that knows I'm just looking and will act accordingly. It's kind of upsetting when people react in unpredictable ways, then I don't understand what's happening and that's scary sometimes. It's when dissociation happens the most; socials or numbs will come in and basically just try to escape/end that situation as quickly and safely as possible.
I can't turn that off. I've tried, I've tried so hard to erase that sort of behavior from my psyche so I won't be a "freak" anymore, but I can't. What do we do, then? If we're doomed to be a freak, and we don't mind, but everyone else seems to... I don't know.
I'm just going to finish this book first and see if it helps more. All the other 5 books did in their own way, this one will too, I know it.


I am profoundly tired. I've been standing for about 5 solid hours, we rarely sit down anyway. But it wears you out.
At least we're slowly getting back into exercise. Just please, please don't ask about the yoga. That's such a messy topic, I don't even know where to start, or if we should talk about it.
Yes, it's cool if you look at it like a maintenance thing, a logical thing. Move the body a certain way, and you cause muscles and organs to move in ways that are beneficial, etc. It's like a science that way. But when we get these books, there's so much talk, so much language that feels too much like the passive-aggressive orders of our childhood for comfort. Which is upsetting, because we want to do these exercises, but that kind of wording elicits a lot of "empowering rebellion" actions from young faceless alters. Angry kids who want a say in their own life for once, and who are now bitterly heartbroken because you demanded they do something they wanted to do on their own. Now, if they do it, you'll patronize and/or control them even more. It's uncomfortable and really I'm happier just doing intuitive stretches and things. This body knows how it wants to move; problem is I often can't figure out how to get it to move a certain way. Ironically the yoga books don't help much. Too many of the poses are currently impossible for us, which tends to cause a lot of existentially spiritual terror, the old kind, the "if I can't do this does that mean I'm flawed? will I be damned for not being able to do your damned stretches??" Basically, if yoga really is this "perfect exercise" that promotes spiritual growth and miraculous healing and the like-- something we can grasp through the "scientific" perspective, sure"-- but we can't do a lot of the exercises, does that make us some sort of demon? Does our reticence mean we're evil, and giving in to that evil out of laziness?
Let me tell you, we tried. We ended up sobbing on the living room rug for an hour from how helpless and scared we felt. First, we still can't kneel on our left foot, it won't bend that way. Second, our hips have clunked and popped since elementary school, and although we'd love to fix that, it makes a LOT of the yoga poses impossible because our legs will literally jam. Third, our hypotension makes it terrifically painful to lay on our back in most situations, or to stay upside-down for long in any position. The intense skull pressure is unbearable and it causes lingering pain. We can't get around that either, at least not yet. And that's the kicker-- yoga effectively promises that if you do it, all those problems will melt away. And God I HOPE so, but we're going to have to find a way around half the poses you're giving us first. Oh yes, and fourth-- there are a lot of poses that we cannot do simply because the amount of internal screaming they elicit is awful. That in turn drags up huge amounts of self-loathing and inadequacy, "if we're afraid of these poses it means we're broken and wrong and evil," etc. etc., all harmful language but it's because we're afraid it's true.
There hasn't felt like there's much "wiggle room" for the mentally ill in modern spiritual communities. We've reached out but don't get any real support. When we do, it's typically of the sort we've admittedly shouted about here in the past-- the sort that effectively hand-waves away the existence of negative things, the too-bright sort. What hurts is that we know they're good people, we feel that, we know the advice is given with the best intentions... but it's not always the best advice for us. That is a very, very difficult thing for us to accept sometimes... the fact that we have our own needs and can assert them. We're used to other people telling us what we need, or don't need, and why. But that's all just orders. It's not what we feel. And that's valid. We're learning, it's a truth that takes time to step into.


This is getting so tangled. That's what happens with stream-of-consciousness typing, and people jumping all over the page to write. You're never sure who wrote what, or when, or in what order. It gets foggy.

There were lemons on sale for 75 CENTS A BAG the other day, at the store. I bought six bags. I already had two at home. Absolutely worth it. (I will drink them all, just watch me.)
Anyway we used three of those lemons to make a lemon meringue pie with the grandmother this morning. The filling has the coolest texture ever but we can't eat it because of eggs and butter and sugar. But it's pretty.
It's been snowing lately and that's pretty too, which broke my heart because today I was staring out the window at the trees against the white, and I thought, "winter is almost over. My favorite season, and where have I been to see it?" We've been so disoriented this winter, what with the surgeries and the personal stress. It's hard to remember anything, and there's sick sad vibes clinging to much of it. It's hilarious though... the bit of time in October or so, those few weeks when we played Dishonored while the leaves were falling outside? We don't remember anything but the game, and walking outside with the wind and the leaves and this stuck in our head. It's all so positive, so gorgeously vivid, that game put down some beautiful roots and I am so so so glad for it. It painted the autumn beautiful this year, the first autumn I can remember, ever... I'm so happy we had that light, that massive light, between the missing summer and the confused winter.
Now it's March and I don't know where the past 2 months went but I'm trying. It's Lent and we're trying, ironically now we're trying too hard and messing up. Every Lent we tend to take on 5, 6 tasks for self-improvement but then we take on a "no mistakes allowed" mindset and if we aren't instantly perfect on Ash Wednesday we feel like a moral failure. It's a very unhealthy habit but it's an old one. Again, time, and recognition.
At least there is another big light on the horizon. Somehow, Saint Patrick's Day has a lot of positivity tied to it from childhood, although we have no memories of it at all. Part of it is all the GREEN, it's gorgeous. And part of it is, oddly, the fact that the word "Irish" is one of our favorite words sensory-wise, not only are the consonants very soothing but the word itself is synaesthetically green! So that's super nice.
But that's not even the best of it. EASTER IS COMING. Every year Easter is incredible, both dark and light, I can't wait. I cannot put into words the amount of sheer magic tied to Easter for me personally... actually that whole period from Palm Sunday on. It's deeply introspective, rich with wonder and woe alike, colored with violets and daffodils and lilies as well as with thorns and blood and broken wood. The church we go to, it's so beautiful, every Holy Week the light comes in through the windows and paints the place gold... God it's gorgeous. I should take pictures this year.
And oddly, oddly. I don't know why, and I don't know when, but there is one memory from childhood we have about Easter that just paints everything. We were young, it was spring, it was drizzling outside, the sky was grey but it was so bright and everything smelled like spring... the bluet flowers were coming up in the yard, the muscari were blooming on the hills, the lilies were everywhere in the church. God just the smell of the flowers, with the light rain and the high silver skies and that light, green-smelling wind... in my backyard, on the road, wearing some sort of little dress and throwing my arms up to the air and breathing it all in... it felt like the beginning of a book. The world was bursting with about-to-be, with the promise of new adventure, with imagination and wonder and joy. That feeling, THAT feeling, that IS Dream World to me.
...And you know what? I first started writing the original "book" form of it on March 5th 2000, right before Lent began. I'm not surprised.
Geez, I... even thinking about that, it makes me so happy. I needed that. I felt very out-of-sync today and the daily grind has been beating me down lately, so suddenly tapping into that pastel-bright bliss of childhood was exactly what my heart needed.

There was a light-river in the living room the other day, the kind Maitru used to chase when I was a kid, and she and the other Guardians had semi-anchor plushies. So much joy there. But I ran right up to the little river and for a second time hadn't changed, for a second everything was right in the world and I could do anything, everything was limitless. Feeling that so genuinely, so fast... inside, I'm still reeling a little, but with incredible boundless excitement. It's still there. ALL of it, it's still there, I can tap into it, it's not broken or gone or tainted! At all! I should have guessed, at Christmas, that one evening Jewel just watched the tree for an hour, all red and gold, and got right back into the story flow... nothing was lost. God I was so scared the hackers had touched it, had ruined it somehow. They tried, we all know they tried. But they failed, spectacularly. Nothing was broken. I don't know how to put into words just how happy I am at that. It's like a sunrise in my chest, like a golden sunrise.

Oh, I should mention. I'm painting shirts again, finally! I have limited paint colors to work with but hey, it's making me draw. I have 3 shirt designs sketched out so far, but at least 6 more to go... once they're all drawn onto the fabric, I'll spend a few days mixing up the paints and actually doing the shirts, so they can all dry together. I'm staying with minimal color palettes to make that easier, picking easy people to color too. Yes I'm doing a bunch of Leagueworld shirts, it's making me so happy. I'll show you them when I'm done!


It's weird, but nice. Lately my optimism and sparkle-eyed outlook has been deepening to twilight hues around the edges. Technically it's catching shadows, but the word I keep wanting to use is that it's softening. It's mellowing out. Feels a little ironic, to say that about a decrease in the brightness level, but look at a kaleidoscope. You need a great deal of dark for those to work, as well as a great deal of light. I like that analogy.
This is me though, this is my native level, this balance. It's me, just like the ones I love, a paradox just like our earliest ones called themselves. It never changed, really. I remember one of us, riding a bus home from New York with their head tired against the cold glass, Anna Molly playing over their headphones as they watched streetlights and trees swift away in the dark. It's a beloved memory, however sad its edges may be, because of the wonder that surrounded it, that was held within it nonetheless. And so that person, too, was a pardox, was an anomaly. They couldn't see it then, but they were two opposites at once, as they wished to be... two seemingly contradictory things, coexisting. That's life, at its heart, and that's us, too.

I had the physical bed to myself for 3 days this week, so of course I took that as an opportunity to let the late-night overlays go full force (kind of helped by the fact that we were up working until 2AM all three of those days). Long story short, what that means is that this is the first time since SLC that I've literally fallen asleep and woken up beside Chaos, and been tangibly aware of it downstairs. Which was really, really lovely.
God I missed him. I've missed everything about and around him.
I have to say though, I am ridiculously happy that THIS is a thing that is happening. Chaos has wholeheartedly agreed to switch his anchor plush when I get one, because his old one is like 6 years old now and it's loveworn to death. I'm just laughing because I keep thinking of this dream and I keep having to remind myself that I will probably not wake up and find such a new plush in my mailbox already. But I can dream, pun intended.
(still, "totally out of left field" my tail; with all the love I've sent his way over the years this sort of thing was inevitable dude)
Oh, and please watch this video, I don't know how I found it but I could not stop smiling while watching it. It's like if Sonic Inversion had actually been made into a game, thats what it reminded me of. Chaos being able to run, going Super (which is GORGEOUS; also I had to pause it and stare for a minute there to make sure that wasn't the Ruby), driving a freaking car, the whole shebang. And then there's the fact that he does Sonic's victory dance at the end and somehow it still works and geez, it's like 2005, like the Outspacer days all over again. Sorry for slipping back into that style of speaking but that's what it feels like, that boundless joyful freedom of those early days, that even he tapped into entirely. I have a lot to say about that but not tonight, it's too late in the evening.

One last thing, this is extremely important and I keep forgetting to say it.
Glissando-- one of our past cores, she was with Cannon for a while and wrote most of our music from 2009-- is still alive. She came through the other day shockingly clear, and WITH a color (which was probably why). It's a violet hue. Something close to this, really. For a musician, that struck me as unusual. Violets are usually protectors of some sort. But then it hit me; she is; she protects that sort of sheer musical creativity, something no one else seems to be able to reach or corrupt for that matter. So I'm very glad she's still alive. I'll have to get her to finish the LG*Girls OST soon.
Also, another E.D. voice has "manifested." I have to thank Cel for that. Last week we were all just experimenting with "who can actually eat non-green foods without being shoved out by the Destroyer or one of the abusive socials" and basically no one could; Emmett can only eat green and Fig seems to have demanifested. But then Cel stepped in and SHE could?? Which shocked us, until we remember she had bloodline ties so she predated the eating disorder severity to an extent. Nevertheless it wasn't her job, so although she could do it, it was still "weird" for her and she didn't want to mess up her anchor or anything. So that's how it was for a week or so, with us trying to get a grip on what faceless people were on that level... and then on Tuesday, Xenophon showed up ghosting thinking I was in the body, but I can't eat so it was someone else. Upset, she interrogated them about that (as usual) and demanded they tell her who they were, and what they were doing, and why. She got an answer.
Their name is Leena. They are a LIME voice (something like this?), faceless yet, feeling semi-humanoid, nongendered with a female pronoun bias. Once we got the name we were able to tune into a vibe, so now we can identify her when she's out. But yes, she is the missing link we were trying to find-- the Downstairs voice who eats, and semi-destroys, without being angry or crushed with shame or guilt. The Destroyer doesn't eat, or taste things, or enjoy the process at all; she just destroys stuff. Leena seems tied to the obsessive texture-mangling thing that can lead to destruction if taken too far, but which nevertheless makes a lot of edibles a lot easier/safer eat than they would be otherwise. It's complicated and I apologize, but this is extremely relieving news. We now have TWO safe eaters (Leena and Emmett). That is big. So we're happy about this. We'll have to see if we can get her upstairs, to find her face; then she can work with Spice and Emmett in person. If not (we don't know if going upstairs would mess up her function?) then hey, we're glad she exists nevertheless.

...But that's something about Xenophon that amazes me, and everyone else really. She seems to be able to talk to ANYONE, on ANY level of this body-system, Upstairs or Downstairs and everything in-between. That's unprecedented. Even if they're faceless and/or nameless and/or abusive, as long as they are able to detect someone ghosting, she can talk to them-- even when Genesis can't. She has a different sort of aura, something less focused, something more all-inclusive.
...It's making me wonder about the whole "bridge the gap" thing again. Maybe it wasn't "my" job. Maybe it's hers. She never saw a gap in the first place.



...It is snowing beautifully outside right now. I just hope that doesn't affect our therapy appointment tomorrow, we need that.
I wish I had a temperature-insulated bubble or something (hey Infi) so I could go outside and just run around in this weather, at this hour. It's gorgeous. Snow and streetlights are also one of Cannon's (?) few positive archived memories, back from the IJ days. They're just always a sign of peace, of a sort of transcendence to the environment, something deeply more than our daily troubles... nighttime is like that always, but add in the ethereal snow, the glow of the roads, and you have something so heavenly and alien it lifts your mind right out of the rush.
I think I'm going to go stare at it a bit. I'm very very tired and it's 12:24 AGAIN (that number is a reminder for creative effort to me at least, and I keep seeing it so yes I will take the hint).


I hope this entry is coherent. I'm starting to get the icy-lungs feeling which means sleep is mandatory right now, or else.
I wish you all well.

 

prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)
as a child I believed that if I whirled like a dervish in my mothers room
beneath the single golden light above
(the rug a soft sky beneath my now-taloned feet)
I, too, would become a dragon

in the second grade, I stayed up until the sun sank deep
writing a report on gulper eels
their whip-snap shapes, their abyssal mouths
their bodies that glowed like death

my classmates knew better than to follow fairy fire
and their eyes beheld no beauty in the murk
but i loved you, my cherished ugly thing,
loved your grotesque elegance and alien fragility
all eyes and teeth and sea-black guts.

i returned to my desk with my own chest about to implode
from the terrible pressure of this weightless atmosphere
this bereavement of concern,
yanking me up from the depths of feeling
to lie, writhing and burst-helpless,
on their sterilized shores.

i swore i would never let that happen to you again.

I clutched snakes and wyverns to my heart
teaching them to sing up and down my spine
even as their bodies burned in our backyard
for working a magic we didn’t understand

we lived in a garden and they called you a devil
despite the silence of your earthbound meanderings
innocent pavement undulations seeking flowered green
every stone heralding imminent tomb
every tree shadowing a cross
the sun blazing bronze upon the tools of men

the plowshares had turned into swords

to this day, I cannot touch a garden rake
without seeing how it tore into your stomach
spilling ichor across the chalkdust pavement

I planted an apple tree above your ashes
with the same shovel that tasted your skull

I wept.



did you glow, in the dark? did I?
which of us ate the other?
whose claws are these in my heart?
and whose blood is this in my mouth?


...
prismaticbleed: (Default)


JANUARY

 

Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.

This reminds us of our internal data archives (the ones that Sherlock manages), for some reason?
It's not a total environment match-- the biggest irony is that our archives seem oddly 'digital' or even 'magical;' there are no books-- but the color, height, and atmosphere of this photo feels SO much like it, that I had to reblog it.

 

This, everything about this is me, this is the scenery of my heart captured in photographs.
The vast and empty roads, the all-embracing hugeness of the world... I've said it before, but these are my dreamscapes, exactly so.
Waterfalls, keepers of secrets and fountains of life.
The wild and lonely oceans, which I love.
The snow, blank white promise, from horizon to horizon...
And the verdant joyous green hills, beckoning adventure.

I love this photoset. I really do.

 



Credit to the amazing kichaa/notmusa.
Honestly, as strange as it may be, this is exactly what it's like when I slip back into fronting after one of our self-destructive alters has been out.
plus panel 3 really captures the exact moment of "dude who was doing that"

 

 

These feel so much like headspace... it hits hard.

#1 reminds me strongly of a bridge I saw Lynne and Spine on a few weeks ago, in an autumn wind. I don't know where it was.
#2 is almost identical to the Underground pathways.
#3 isn't exact, but the mossy walls by the river, and the trees above, is very strong internal imagery nevertheless.
#4, more Underground tunnels. It's actually really pretty down there.
#5. Central City's streets are lined with trees like this... and Laurie has a thing for cherry blossoms.
#6. I adore circular ceiling windows like this. I had one in my room.
#7 & #8 don't match anything inside, but the feeling of vastness and silence they radiate is very close to my heart, for lack of a better term. Our internal world is huge and quiet and spacious... my dreams are too.
I think these are from Cambridge. Either way, they are beautiful.

 

 

 
This reminds me of our Marigold, actually. She's about 7 too, but she's always looked rather dirtied and roughed-up like this. The outfit doesn't match, but that hair is perfect.
I also like that this girl is out looking at the grass like that, for a different reason. Marigold has rarely ever been outside (she lived almost entirely in the Underground prior to January), so she'd probably be a bit hesitant but fascinated by nature if she were to be so immersed in it.

 



Okay, we've had an awful night, and seeing this on our dash immediately after was too significant to ignore.
Our situation's a bit different, but this is more for personal records and reflection than anything.

1. One of our oldest and biggest safety measures during the "Julie days" was to turn on the lights. If there were a lot of lights on, there was nowhere for us to get trapped, or hidden, in the dark where they could get us. So for us this was different; the lights revealed the monsters, but they were loathe to attack us in brightness. And when we could see them, we could get away.
2. This is why we have so many protectors and retributors. That's essentially their mission statement, in different words.
3. We've never done this, but the "water" bit is significant in a sad way. One of our outspacers-- Chaos 0-- is basically a liquid being, but he's one of the biggest targets for malicious forces in here. Maybe that's why.
4. This is VERY true. It's why Minty is working with the bear army actually. For whatever reason, plush toys ARE amazing protectors, to the point where hackers will actually go to significant lengths to get rid of them when they find them... or, to corrupt them. We've had to actually destroy a few old plushes because they became Tar anchors, and therefore lethal.
5. This was not vividly significant until tonight. We had a GREEN alter come out, brandishing blades, and shout to the shadows, "I'll fight you!" And she was not afraid at all, jumping at all these dark dangers with the unflinching intent to protect everyone else from them.
However, as far as Green goes, that is probably the most closed-out color in the Spectrum-- no one even held the core slot until 2011!
I'd vouch that our demons are more afraid of the color violet, though.

 

 

In the old headspace, I had a huge window like this above my bed (yes really). I'm rather enamored by circular ceiling windows... and the way the building itself is wrapped around it.
I tend to dream about spirals and rings a lot, if that makes sense? At least in terms of memorably architecture. There's always staircases, and tiered walls, and huge open lobbies, and balconies in loops. It's gorgeous really.

Either way it was nice, being able to look up at night and see the stars high up above, and the sunlight in the morning.

 

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FEBRUARY
 

 



I need snow tonight.
I'm feeling shaken up and old pains are making my soul seem painted black, tarry and stained, wrong. But this strange and fragile powdery whiteness just washes it off, all of it away, in an instant.
Something about snow... it's absolving, exonerating. It's unconditionally forgiving. It covers everything, everything in quietly cold crystal, sweet and soft, light and beautifully serene. It's magic. It's beautiful. And it makes me laugh, joyfully and without cause, like a child, no matter how lost I felt the moment before.
I love the snow.

I can't wait for tomorrow. We're totally going to get buried in it.♥

 



More snapshots of what the world inside my heart feels like.
Amusingly, only the bottom two pictures (original post) don't quite match-- there's almost no yellow in my landscapes, or dry grasslands. For me there's just fog-kissed oceans, and mountain crags dripping with snowy pines, and the smell of ice and hope and tiny spring flowers. And then there are the massive beautiful cities, as clear and bright as the frost that paints them, where everything always feels like Christmas.
And I'm always wandering, always running about wild and free, giggling and feeling the wind swirling about my arms. Always smiling and practically bursting with a bright childlike love for this endless place, this reflection of me.
But you'll notice, I'm virtually always alone too. And I'm happy like that. There are plenty of places where I can gather with other souls, where there's camaraderie instead of solitude, and maybe we'll talk about what our inner worlds look like but we all know that those places are beautifully, perpetually private. We all know that they bloom the strongest and shine the most vividly with self-love-- something no visitor, however beloved, can ever bestow.
So I run around alone, and I love it all.

 

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 MARCH




We decorated the streets of Central City with luminescent trees like this, a while back. Some had actual lights strung about them, and some of them just glowed on their own.
These are exactly the sort of color Waldorf would love, though, so this reblog is for her!

 

 

I really miss this boy right about now.

It's weird, how you can never really forget the people who impacted your life in some luminous way, no matter how small it may have been at the time… candles or bonfires, lamps or searchlights, they all tend to glow forever in your heart.

Ryou here… or Rio, as we call him in headspace… well, he turned out to be a bit of a supernova in his own right. When he appeared in my life 12 years ago I may not have realized just what he was the herald of, but now? Now it's brilliantly staggering, really. And I'm deeply grateful for it.

Sorry I haven't said hello to you in a while, bro. I still treasure your existence up here, mark my words.

 

 



Emmett is this you

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
APRIL


 

This was supposed to be a practice sketch but I got carried away. I love coloring this guy.

I'm trying to find a happy medium between "his canon look" and "how I've seen him in my head since 2003," but I think this works well enough for the time being.
I'll keep experimenting though; heaven knows I will never get tired of drawing him.

 



This is Josephina, one of my fellows from the BLC System.
He holds the Yellow slot in Central, so he's pretty important-- and he's probably our prettiest member too, haha.

 

 

So… this is what happens when I’m up until stupid-o’-clock in the morning.

In all honesty, we really do need to talk together like this again soon.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
MAY




*blows kisses to everyone online*

Today has been ridiculously nice and I'm really happy right now, so I'm sharing it. Have some sparkles!

♥♥♥!


#today really was lovely though #you guys even get sandman glitter look at that

 



Wandering around-- whether it be through towns, or cities, or forests, or fields-- is probably my favorite thing to do in the world.
That sense of freedom and peace, that feeling of having absolutely no limits and yet of being totally in tune with the world around you, is incomparable.
It breaks my heart how my local forests are being industrialized so terribly. I remember how huge they were as a child.
I want to treasure everything beautiful around me, every moment. I'm going to start wandering again, both externally and internally.

 



Momentarily feeling disheartened, "how am I going to deal with therapy tomorrow," realizing I've not been taking good care of myself lately... then I log in, and this is the first thing on my dashboard.
I don't know, it just... works. That rainbow, the geometric shape, the lovely light of it all... it made me smile, like the universe just reminded me, "you're gonna be okay, kid." But there's a solid courage in there too. You'll be okay, sure, but don't give up. Don't get lost. Keep going.

I'm not going to worry about tomorrow. I don't know what will happen. I'll just do my best with it when it arrives.
As of right now I want to tune into some joy, I want to break down my own walls, I want to feel like I'm a living breathing person. I'm just not sure how.
...aaand the universe just tossed the perfect music synchronicity at me in response to that, now I'm really smiling.
Good night everyone. We'll be okay.


 


This looks surprisingly similar to the room we've all been gathering in for therapy sessions-- especially the couches in front of the big windows, and the overlook hallway from the stairs. We need spacious, optimistic rooms for therapy meetings because we might have 20 people gathered there at once, many of whom are likely agitated.

I'm not sure where this place is, exactly. It used to be one of the extensions from Central, but after December it might even be in floating space for all I know. Nevertheless it's nice.


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

  

JUNE




This feels so much like the deep areas of head/heartspace, where the positive monochrome energy flows about.
I've only seen this sort of firework once in the waking world, but the image of that gorgeous golden curtain slowly floating down above me was forever impressed upon my mind.
It also... reminds me of Genesis. We have this thing where, every year on his birthday-- July 4th-- he and I go out on the back lawn together, and stand at the edge of the hill, and just watch the fireworks together. It's... it means the world to me. I love him so much, I really do. He's given me some truly beautiful memories. So... really, I have to thank him for this one, too.

 

 

Her, 2013 (dir. Spike Jonze)


I love this, love this, love this.

The compositions here, the colors, the landscapes... this is imagery all but stolen from my nightly dreams. Just silent open spaces and bittersweet solitude.
I really cannot put into words how inspiring this is to me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
JULY


 

There's a place in my dreams that I've only ever seen once, and I adore it more than any other dreamscape I've seen.
I was there in 2003. I went there with Waldorf, Maitru, and Ryman-- the latter being the only reason we found the place.
It was a small, hidden place, just a path of bright green grass lined with trees like this, perfectly lined up on each side. But in our dream, the sky was soaring blue with spires and temples of cloud, and the green hues all around us were as vivid as gemstones.
The path, though, was even more incredible. It stretched on for about a hundred meters, and then it cut off sharply-- falling away into nothing. Truly, the path ended in a sheer cliff, and standing at the edge one could see what felt like the entire world stretched out before and below them.

But the most incredible part were the stars.
Perhaps that's not entirely accurate. They were actually crystals, floating in the air, all around our heads, but just out of reach. They were about 7cm across, and they were all shaped like crescent moons and 5-pointed stars and suns. All were intricately carved, faceted so that they caught the sunlight and scattered it in rainbows, and there were hundreds of them. They hovered effortlessly above that path alone, stretching up into the sky, seemingly limitless.

I stood there with Ryman and we laughed from the sheer joy of it. We were two 13-year-old kids completely enamored with the moment, knowing it was a dream but forgetting we were asleep, and wishing we could stay there forever.

I woke up and I can't remember having been able to visit that place since.

Sure, I've come close. I know the exact paths to take to get there. Problem is, the dreamscape itself has to line up correctly in order for those paths to even open, and with how realms shift in my dreams it is very rare for all the pieces to fit together. But I never stop hoping. I treasure all my dreams regardless of where I go, and one day I know I'll find this blessed little space again, and it will be like seeing it for the first time.


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

 
AUGUST

 



I have had this exact sort of conversation with my therapist before!

I tend to feel colors/ sounds/ shapes/ textures instead of "emotions," at least as far as I understand them. I struggle to identify feelings like anger/ sadness/ excitement/ etc. because I only understand those terms as labels, plus I do not know how others experience them. When I feel something, it's abstract all the way, and often I have no idea how to label it-- or even express it physically  (that's arguably one of my biggest roadblocks in therapy).
It's utterly fascinating, sure, but it can be terribly frustrating as well, especially when trying to communicate or empathize in those respects.

 



I have to laugh-- in headspace, people put music on and then turn to me to see how I "manifest it," since my mind translates it into feeling-images. So I'll turn the entire room into a swirling, glowing, moving rhapsody of color and shapes, shifting with every note, all but melting into the sound as I do so. It's really fun! I'm trying to teach other people in the System to do it in their own ways.

 




It struck me, recently, just how many of our Leagueworlds have this concept at their core-- the simple quiet truth that every soul consists of stars. Every being is a galaxy in itself.
Feeling like this... I miss it. But one can never tune into it halfheartedly, or from such a feeling of false lack. The honest recognition of this ethereal phenomenon, the participation in it within oneself, demands the utmost reverence, vulnerability, and joy.
But it's never gone. It's never lost. It's in my blood, and behind my eyelids, in every waking and dreaming moment. And that alone is an undying hope.

 




This is too relevant tonight.

Isn't it funny how, when I feel the bleakest and I need this the most, my mind thinks it's too good to be true?
And yet, sooner or later, I find myself at the shoreline, and no matter how battered and ashamed I may feel, the ocean is still there.

It is that sort of silent constancy that keeps me going... just the infinitely unconditional love of the universe, whether through a person or a thing or a concept. Not once has it ever failed me.

So, this is where the incredulously grateful grief shatters my heart,
and I try again.

 

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

SEPTEMBER




Looking at this, it gives me the feeling of reaching into that solid darkness, and catching colored light from it... like there was a hidden spectral glow within that assumed void. I like that idea a lot.

 

 

Forgot to post this.
I was scrolling through someone's archives yesterday when this post jumped out at me (obviously).
It was notable, though, not just because of my name, but because it was true. I was in a rather depressed state at the time, and any metaphorical flashlights that may have helped shine through it were misplaced or forgotten.
So this little orange card inspired me enough to pick one up, so to speak. It helped!

I miss having little things like this happen. It's nice to see them again.

 



Can I just say that this is terribly relevant lately?
Infi holds me just like that when we talk... and ze has this terribly deep knowledge of the darkest parts of me/us, yet ze is so kind-- always-- to me and everyone else.
If ze can love me so unconditionally, when ze feels exactly what I do on my bleakest and bloodiest days... then I can show the same love and kindness to myself, because I would never ever withhold it from hir.

So this is extremely important to me tonight.

 

 

This reminds me so much of when we were in SLC... some evenings, Genesis or Chaos & I would walk up to the top of the hill our apartment was, so we could watch the cherry-red sun sink down behind the carved-out mountains. It was exactly this color.
It's a little closer to sunrise right now, but this is lovely still. Have a good night.

#cz told me to reblog this #so here you go

 

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


OCTOBER

 


The sudden, clear presence of time and death makes our awareness of life all the more precious.
It's always struck me as odd, how we can dedicate a certain place to a certain celebration, and yet the very repetition of that role can dull its significance to so many. But then there are other places, who see no such official proclamation of the same purpose, and yet which carry thousands of glittering moments within their humble walls.
Airports, places of travel and transition, places of goodbyes and hellos, are sacred in their own way, for how they frame and crown those great personal shifts and reliefs. And hospitals, places of healing and hurt, of fear and hope, labyrinthine and brilliant and cold.... they are holy too, for the paradoxes cradled within their walls, for the births and bones and blood alike.
I see both places as spontaneous yet continual monuments to those tiny, powerful events that can turn a life on a dime. In those moments, I think we can glimpse not only how beautifully brief our existence here is, but also how vast the universe is all around us nevertheless. We find ourselves suddenly suspended between humanity and eternity, for better or for worse, and that vastness bursts from us in tears, in laughter, in prayers, in love.
It's hard to put such a feeling into words, but it's one of my favorite things really.

I love both airports and hospitals for this very reason. They feel terrifying and comforting at the same time, to me, and that sort of dichotomy is what I  live to embrace.

 

 

 
This is kind of what it feels like when Infinitii calls me.

I'll hear hir voice, and suddenly I find myself in this barely-glowing space-- vast unknowable acres of shadow all around me, holding silence as thick as the scent of jasmine. It's a place of total enigma.
And then there's the fog. Although ethereally inviting, all white and soft and cold, it's secretly terrifying. Like standing at the edge of a cliff, fear tugs at my heart as sharply as a knife edge, contrasting almost impossibly with the childlike bliss that is welling up all around it. The fog in that meadow, it is neither dream nor nightmare. I can't see two steps in front of me there. It threatens to freeze my very bones. But... it's so beautiful to be lost in that cloud, wandering through it with no sense of direction or destination... it's oddly divine, to lose all sense of time and space and self there. And yet that alone can be lethal.
That's what it's like to be with Infi, to talk to hir at all, to be close to hir at all. It's unbearably lovely, as fragile as a bubble, but surrounded by hidden needles. It's the borderline between the allure of the quiet forest, and the danger that lurks there when shadows fall. It's blood and teeth, flowers and rain, dawn and dusk... still, you cannot resist its beckoning. It sings a siren song in a language I cannot translate, because words cannot hold it.
Sorry for rambling. Headspace has just felt like this more often than normal lately.

 

 


Dude someone actually has a photo of this place I am so happy.

This place was my life as a kid. It was a little ways across the street from where we used to take violin lessons, and we'd go there once a week or so to get coffee for our elderly instructor. Rain or shine, snow or storm, it was the highlight of my week, and after gleefully running through the bushes to reach it I'd make every excuse to stay in there as long as possible.
Now that I think about it, those times were my first taste of independence too. We had rather controlling parents, so these little excursions to the cafe-- alone, money in hand, free to just be without parental pressure to perform-- were bliss.
But the inside of the place, it just stuck in my head like heaven. I still visit it in my dreams sometimes. Echoes of it are written into my creative work. The smell of the coffee, the warm colors of the wood, the newspaper-glossed tables, the magnetic poetry, the lollipops, the muffins, the books... I had never seen such a place before, back when I first knew it, and so the magnificence of it had quite the impact.

It closed almost 6 years ago and you'd never know it was there once, now. But I'll always hold it in my heart.

  

 

Sunrise in Foreste Casentinesi, Monte Falterona, Campigna National Park - Italy by Roberto Melotti

...Chaos said I was like a “sunrise in the snow,” once.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. It gives me more hope than I can say.

 



Airplanes, for me, carry this feeling of being perfectly at home, and yet completely away from 'home.' They are returning and leaving all at once and I love it.
They feel like limitless possibility-- that exciting, frightening, humbling knowledge that you have no roots in the air and yet, you can put new ones down anywhere, now.
They are a commitment to the unknown, in my book, in my experience. I miss them, but they are not to be trifled with. To ride one you must become displaced from wherever you were before. My mind thinks in absolutes, when traveling. When I'm on the road, or in the air, that is all that exists.
One day I'll experience this picture again and I will treasure it as much as I always have. Until then I'll walk the earth just as happily.

 

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


NOVEMBER

 

 

 

ocenotarchive: im not sure how to feel about these arms of mine

I do have “ghost arms’ like this that I use every once in a while. Now you know.

 

 

 

I don't hear the cruel voices on my good days (at least, not typically). On bad days though, when I'm stuck on their level, they are deafening.
So there is a profound relief and comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in this head when the voices start. Laurie's around. So is Genesis. So is Infinitii. That's three of, what, 70? I'm literally never alone. It's never more of a blessing than it is on those bad days, really... ironically, perhaps.
But I want to mention that I now have people downstairs, people online and even a few locally, that are willing to echo this same sentiment. That's incredible. And I just want to reiterate, thank you, with total sincerity. There's a lot of hope here, that I will keep in my heart.


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

DECEMBER


 

 

artbyjeffreymeyer: Jeffrey Meyer, Yuck (2013), paper collage, 5 x 7 inches | website.

This is the perfect portrayal of creative force, for me. It's this exquisite, priceless, gem-studded concept, and yet at its heart it will always be this raw, visceral, bloody thing. The idea of life being born anew is always magnificent, but everyone comes into this world covered in red. The two aspects are inseparable, and uniquely captivating just as such, just like this.

#the juxtaposition of organic and refined substances is both unnerving and intriguing to me #i really should play with that idea more

 

dec 05

Dec. 5th, 2014 11:48 pm
prismaticbleed: (aflame)

 


oh my heart I can feel heartspace tonight. everyone's around. everyone's alive. it's been too long.

We got the nerve to drive down to Cannon's old campus again today, to see a choral concert. I had to. Choirs sound like me; I can't not see them perform when I get the chance, it breaks my heart. But for some reason I was scared and sad and sick this evening, I was trying to find an excuse to not go... but then I realized that staying home was not an option. Like energetically, I could feel that was not a choice I wanted to take, or even could. I had to go out. I just had to get the nerve, to go out in the dark and cold and rain, to make that long journey in order to hear something blissful.
Then Laurie showed up. Laurie showed up. I remember I was in my room, still pulling myself together, and all of a sudden I could hear her voice asking, "kid, are we going or what?"
I didn't know what to think. "You're still alive?" I was caught between doubt and resentment and disbelieving joy and everything else. Then I noticed the new red scar on her throat. She went through with it. No wonder I couldn't find her.
We talked for a bit. She said she wasn't going to let anyone mess with me anymore, she was dead set now. And she wasn't going to let me back out on myself either. So we talked as I got ready, and by the time I made it out to the car I had seen Lynne and Julie (still wearing her pink sweater) and Josephina and Waldorf and Nathaniel and Leon and Javier too. Genesis was going to tag along for the ride, but then... well, as I was headed up the highway I began to cry like a child (it's the only way we can cry), and the people upstairs got worried, can we help? I couldn't reply, I was in a non-self expressional state, I needed to get this sorrow and fear out somehow or it would play havoc with our driving. Then all of a sudden, there was a green-blue shift in the air to my right, a sort of settling in, and Chaos was there.
Let me say something. Chaos rarely ghosts, I can't remember the last time he did actually. But he did tonight, I knew he did because I could feel his presence appear next to me and stick around, it's obvious when someone is there and I can't forget the exact vibe of him. But... I didn't expect the peace. Barely 20 seconds after he showed up I wasn't nervous anymore, and when I realized that I was shocked. It just... dissipated. The entire aura of space in the car felt serene, safe, calm. I didn't expect that. But I am so thankful for it, and I am not surprised that it happened either.
Javier drove for a bit on the highway; I was slipping and all the red lights around us called him in. He was surprised at first, Chaos was giving him pointers as to where to go (he's old enough to remember the Cannon days) and Javes was just trying to stay put, because switching consciously while driving is practically a deathwish. We took the back roads, I was able to come back in at that point, just let things go on automatic because really we haven't driven those roads in about 5 years now. But we made it.

We parked by the old art building and there was a sort of resonance to it, but no solid memory. None of that at all, it's strange. I looked up and saw the top floor lit up, all dark and open with just that one red exit sign, and I remembered that one night Cannon stayed there until 11pm just drawing with pastels. We were still so young then, even art-wise. Looking back on that I felt the growth and that was really something. But that was all. I knew if I went in we'd have the same memory fondness-- that building is one of the places our memory has stored as a "static location," something we can limitedly wander through in recollections. No time for that tonight though.
The choir concert was in the campus chapel, a pretty little place not far from that same building. We got there about 20 minutes early, and for some reason only one other person wanted to sit in the front row, so we got the best seats in the house, haha.
And it was so worth it. Seriously I was enthralled the entire time.
My favorites were "Sechs Sprüche, Op. 79: I. Weihnachten" by Felix Mendelssohn, "I Will Lift Mine Eyes" by Jake Runestad (that one felt profoundly reassuring), "Exsultate" and "In The Bleak Midwinter" by Brian Edward Galante (the latter was GORGEOUS live; I was about two feet away from the violinist), and "Mary's Lullay" by Alejandro Consolacion II-- which he revised for this performance, so it was the first time ANYONE had heard that version of it (choir and organ). It was seriously lovely; Infinitii really liked that one. Honestly though Alejandro is fantastic, I don't know how I never heard of him before now but I am glad that has changed because I am going to listen to everything he has ever written. Galante, too, talk about a cool style.

The drive home was lovely, because everyone was hanging out upstairs and decorating because we need to be more festive.
We drove through the ritzy house place again, Leon and Nathaniel especially were gawking at it. ("Those are houses??" )
In town I noticed that the windshield wipers sounded almost like a heartbeat, and got kind of distracted. Laurie jumped in and asked if I was okay; were those still labeled as a threat? I said no, with real conviction, no they weren't, they shouldn't be. However then I realized my absolute faith in that was due to the heavy-duty soul-searching and research I'd been doing lately, and I couldn't explain that while driving, let alone in brief. Thankfully Infinitii appeared as well, for support and protection both, and surprisingly spoke up-- saying that heartbeats were the sound of life, and that all life happened through "sexual" unity, BUT that word has been completely redefined in our System and it is not dangerous, it has nothing to do with hackers or abusers. Yes I was going to get flustered whenever I heard one, because the intimacy of it was not something that could be taken lightly, but I was NOT to assume that such vulnerability and openness meant people could take advantage of it. That was wrong. I'm paraphrasing and I'm not doing it justice, but it was good to realize that I was on the same terms as Infi with that, completely. I know that whole topic is kind of an ancient thing for us, but we never seem to stop learning, which is weird. Anyway it was the first time in a long time I was able to deal with such a sound, such a context, without freaking out from guilt or shame or paranoia. That's extremely notable. (I guess it helped that it was raining, too.)
Xenophon showed up in the car when we were halfway home, I forget what called her but she was surprised yet happy to see both her parental figures in the car that time. So we took the long way home to look at Christmas lights (her request), and I spontaneously started singing Christmas carols and laughing. I told her Christmas is a state of mind, it's a season of gratitude and generosity and love and wonder and hope, that it's a feeling you keep in your heart. That's what made it magical. I said I wished I could give her the sort of Christmases I had as a child, there in the outerworld, but I realized we can give her something better inside and that really does my heart good.
I remember Eros showed up almost tangibly on the way home-- we drove past a house with red and white-blue lights, and it felt very resonant with me, but I questioned "wasn't red/white Eros' thing" and he superimposed his presence in the space to my left, saying no, the red-white was definitely my thing. He left shortly after that but I found it surprising how clearly he was percievable there.

We got home and Xenophon and I chilled out under the tree for a while-- it's done up like my boss this year, all red lights and golden glitter swirls and glass, I adore it so-- looking at the ceramic town and trees. Xennie was saying "who lived where" and decided Laurie lived in the blacksmith shop (which she agreed to with a grin), and she herself owned the candy store. We then found a clocktower piece on the coffee table, and put it in front of the blacksmith's shop. Laurie jokingly said it could be a reminder to all her "potential customers" that "time waits for no man and neither does she," so either you're on time or you're up the creek. Xennie was giggling at all this, it was great.
At some point later on I peeked back in at heartspace and saw Lynne and Julie talking inside a place that looked like the Boyle's house from Dishonored. I asked if it was and Lynne said yeah, "they knew how to throw a party" so she figured we'd borrow the festivity, and also the architecture. They were putting a huge tree up in the middle of the entrance hall; it looked almost crystalline, all rainbow lights. Waldorf was hanging blue lights on it but then she paused, asked if we wanted the colors scattered or in rainbow bands? How exactly were we doing this tree? After a bit of consideration (during which Knife hung a few pink crystal crosses on the lower branches), everyone decided that each color deserved more than just a small representation here; so we'd have a rainbow-white tree here, and then everyone else could do up their own single-color trees in their own places. Someone then asked Infi what ze would be doing. Waldorf joked that ze could use blacklights on hir tree, and Infi played along by "forming" a small black tree out of shadow for Waldorf to do just that to. She was giggling madly at that alone, with Laurie joking that it looked "like one of those awful bowling alleys," but then Javier ran over and said "not yet, it needs these" and started sticking glow-in-the-dark stars on it. Lynne burst out laughing, Laurie threw her hands in the air and walked away. I have no idea what they're doing with the gaudy UV tree but I hope someone keeps it as a joke because that was funny.

Now I'm here, and I'm exhausted. Remind me to go outside and run first thing in the morning, I did that the other day when it was all foggy out (it was heaven, and yes I do have photos) and it was blissful so I want to make it a habit. It helps my mood and my muscles both.
I'm wearing my bro's old Steely Dan concert shirt to sleep in tonight, because I can. I'm laughing though because I keep hearing "Aja, when all my dime dancing is through, I run to you~" playing on loop in my head now. So many Steely Dan songs were memes between my bro and I, really, it's funny. To this day we can't hear Donald Fagen's voice without exchanging an immediate "aha" look and laughing about something.
Jewel holds all that, admittedly. She holds a lot of that stuff. Which is fine; I'm glad it still belongs to someone, because it's nice stuff.

I want to look through the stored, old Christmas memories sometime soon. Maybe when lying in bed in the morning, before I need to get up. There are snippets that I can find still-- the plate of cookies we'd leave out in the living room, which we hand-decorated with that icing I'll never forget the taste of... the oats-and-glitter mix we'd toss on the back yard for the reindeer... the train we used to have around the tree and the unmistakable smoky smell that accompanied its happy whistle... the red-green lights lining the eaves of the house, all little fat painted lightbulbs... mum playing Andy Williams and Frank Sinatra and all the old crooner Christmas albums on loop as she wrapped and decorated... the exact smell of the santa outfit and beard my dad would wear when he came in the back door: a mix of cold wind and warm fabric and smoke and cologne... the way the living room looked on Christmas morning, overflowing with mountains of presents. There's so much profound comfort and love in those memories. I'll find a way to share them with Xenophon. She deserves it.

Anyway. Today was one of those weird, complicated days that start out tricky but never really feel bad, just turbulent and upset. I'm so glad we were able to transmute that tonight. Must have something to do with all the alchemy research I'm doing lately, haha. Hoenstly though I'm burning out my brain, I am reading so much that it's making me tired and angry, I want to read but really I need to pace myself better. I am learning a LOT, though-- and it's profoundly helpful in many areas, notably self-awareness and Dream World symbolism (AGAIN, why does it always work)-- so I'm not going to quit. Just need to be wiser about it. One day at a time.


I know I haven't had an update like this in a while and I apologize. I sincerely hope all you readers are doing well; we love you and hope that the spirit of this season reaches you wherever you are.

 

 

 

oct 17

Oct. 17th, 2014 11:46 pm
prismaticbleed: (league)

 

Just a thought.

I have time. It's weird, how new that feeling is.
All my life I guess I felt pressed for time, like there was never a future for me. As a child I could never imagine myself as an adult. Ever. I know that much of our past. Part of that was gender dysphoria, sure, but remember we were convinced we would die at age 20 until we hit that birthday.
But I digress. This is creatively-centered, now. We have time... and it's wonderful. I've been pressuring myself to get everything done now-- no revisions, no idle time, no room for mistakes or second-guesses. And so I've been running. I have. I'm scared, to face that beast I've created. That's not creativity. It's control. Nothing can grow in that environment.
But time, time has bloomed today. I was scrolling through some Dishonored extended-universe lore online, and... the creators left so much out of the game, things that were in the works for years, things they were still building. It's amazing. And it made me realize, geez, they didn't start working on that game five months before it was published. That seems like it was in development for years, even just theoretically, as a seedling idea. It took time, it's still taking time, and that's great.
I never gave myself-- ourselves, the League and I both-- that luxury before?
I can make mistakes. I can play with ideas. I can theorize, I can speculate, I can question. I can take a wild concept and run with it, see if it collapses or continues after a while. I can be free, and so can they, all the people I am writing about. I don't have to be "perfect," not by that definition. I don't have to be flawless, impossibly so. I can allow for messy evolution, and it will be all the more beautiful for it.

...Growing up that "no spare time, no second try" mindset was hardwired, I guess, especially with the Dream World first draft. I adore that first draft. It was gorgeously childlike, utterly without boundaries, this freewheeling thing of sheer imagination and rainbow jumbles of inspiration. I loved it. But every time I mentioned it, the mother would say... "you have to finish it soon, so you can publish it!" Always demanding a finished work. Always. "How much longer are you going to take?" "You have to end this sometime!" Always finality, always a nail driven through the foot trying to move forwards. I didn't know how to explain to her that none of these stories were going to end, not literally, not really. In a linear sense yes, the back cover would close, the film reel would spool out. There would always be a set beginning and end to the material aspect of it, to what was eventually bound and given. But you cannot contain the entirety of those worlds, of those lives, within such a small container. I knew that, just as well as I knew that I had to find a concrete pair of points to work from nevertheless. But even as I struggled to do so, I was told that I had no time. "If you don't do it now, you'll never do it!" Damn it we were a child, an infant juggling universes, what in the world were you demanding of us? Our own mind was only just beginning to open to the broadness of those tales, we couldn't comprehend the whole story that early...
Is that a poor excuse? If I never stop working, never stop loving, never close my eyes, am I still making excuses for not having a "finished product," however limited its content may be in the grand scheme of things? I feel so guilty, and yet, I don't.
I want time to explore, and play, and love and learn, with these worlds. I cannot repeat myself enough, I've never really been able to do that before. Ever. I've... well, Jewel might have, back in 2001 and 2002. That's why so much happened then. But I don't know. For me, I've been demanding perfectionism, not realizing there was always another, better option.

I'm excited, but it's perfectly tranquil. It's like reaching the top of a hill and seeing a broad expanse of fields and hills and flowers, but instead of shouting for joy and running straight into it... I'm sighing with tired bliss, smiling fit to burst, and following the meandering patterns of violets down the hill. I'm stoked as hell to continue this, absolutely, but... time. It flows, it broadens this, it paints it this gorgeous ocean-teal hue, promising that as long as I continue to take steps, however little, it will support me like the tide at my heels. It's hard to put into words. It's just so nice. I'm glad for this.

Where to start. I'm laughing, I already know, there are too many threads.
When in the world did I become so infatuated with the "pre-storyline" cast of Dream World? All those individuals who paved the path for the Guardians I met as a child, those people whose existences and effects weren't revealed to me until years later... I'm talking Justice and Revenge, Opal and Sage, Ementain and his siblings, Nebisai and his fellows, even Deropele. Maybe it's specifically the fact that they are all the foundation for the later heroines and heroes, the ones I met first, without knowing how or why at the time. Maybe it's specifically that very sense of sprawling purpose that I love. Seeing their lives slowly branch out into something infinitely greater and more connected than a single point, is amazing. It's like drawing a map of light, like tracing networks of veins and rivers with my fingers. All these pieces forming a masterpiece when you step back and glimpse just what the bigger picture is. So
But then even the new guys are so wonderful, gosh I love them. Maitru and Preludove and Dakeep and Pagotamiar and Hissiamese and Psyquatro, Azurai and Kaiiko and Aquazille and Karavi and Sapphius and Iridicel... names that have defined my life more than my own has. We have time. We have so much time, to get to know each other better, to learn and discover what I couldn't until now.

Sorry if this is a jumble to read. I'm just... profoundly relieved. I think I can get so much more work done now, if I'm not demanding "instant final results," all the time.
I'll still share the shareable pieces online, of course. Honestly the questions we've received so far, however small, feel euphoric. They are wonderful catalysts. I'm still mulling over at least two, as they are things I've never really thought about until now and that shocked me to realize. It helps, massively.
I'm laughing, though; the only thing that doesn't help is the fact that three of my favorite characters ever are major, merciless spoilers. I absolutely cannot talk about them freely right now and it's driving me mad, ironically enough. But that's motivation too. Work to get to that point.
I miss the Parnassus crew too, they're wonderful, their world is surprisingly rich too and that's exciting. Hokthai is putting feelers out again, but that one's trapped under a truckload of expectations and fear, so I'm thinking of freeing it up a lot in the near future. Heck every Leagueworld is still glowing, none of them ever stop feeling totally blissfully alive, there's a whirlwind of color in my chest from them all and it makes me so, so happy to realize that I don't think that's ever going to disappear.
I have to stop thinking so hard. It's midnight and analytical or concrete thoughts utterly fail at this hour anyway.

Life's been good, lately, if only a tad dusty. That feeling means we need to go inside and upstairs more. We need to push at the grey walls of daily life a little more. There are big changes on the horizon, I can feel them, massive personal shifts... but no idea when they're going to hit on a linear scale. Perhaps that's up to us, for the most part.

It's late, I need sleep. I want to get up early and read old notes and just... write. Sketch. Whatever. Weekends have an awful psychological mire to them usually and I want to break that up. We'll infuse joy into this, all of us, everyone.

I want to send some of that joy, that quiet warm light, to all of you tonight... so let these words be an offering of it, with love.

 

 

 

clarity

Sep. 25th, 2014 02:21 am
prismaticbleed: (aflame)

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH
JAY IRIDOS




All right, let's talk. Bits and pieces is all.

Sounds good to me, kid. You gonna get distracted by deep-sea fish or what?

Maybe. Yes. It helps. Oddly, it helps.

It's not "oddly." It's been like this for as long as I can bloody remember.

At least I'm not scared. Or ashamed. I've somehow found the uncorruptible peace beneath all this pain. Thank Simeon, somehow he tapped into it.

You think that's his job?

Maybe. He hasn't been out in weeks, and usually when he is, it's in the wake of a hack, or a conversation with the mother…

Sheesh, that makes sense. Man. He's really important then.

Yeah. Strange how he's still faceless up here though.

Probably so he can do his downstairs job better. Anyway, where were we. Deep sea fish. You love them.

That I do.

That's relevant. But...

What?

What I said before, kid. I… I get so confused when pain is involved.

I forgive you.

Kid, I know you do, I just don't know if I can forgive myself.

Why?

Infi was furious with me when ze found out, okay? But then ze admitted that ze was "just as lost as I was," and I didn't know what the heck to do. If Infi is lost, then how the blood am I supposed to figure out what I'm doing?

We have to support each other, I guess. Not shoot each other down. But with that "lost"-ness…

What? Kid, you were flat-out M.I.A., I don't know if you're one to talk here. No offense.

None taken, that's a good point. I'm not allowed around when this stuff happens.

That's the bloody problem. You're not around, whoever is is talking to me in a way that I can't understand, Infi is caught up in the dregs just as bad as everyone else, I don't know. You got ideas, kid?

Yeah, just… questioning to the nth degree.

Heh, no kidding.

No, I'm serious. I know you are too but really. Question everything. Even if it seems "rude" or "inappropriate." Question it ALL. I need to ask Chaos to keep doing that. Genesis does now--

He does?

Yeah. Too many close calls, and he doesn't recover well from shock. When I slip out he freaks, and demands I "get back in there," no matter what we're doing or what's going on. He did that the whole time I was driving today-- I kept slipping out, Jayce and the manic girl kept fronting, and--

Who the heck is that manic girl? Sorry, please continue.

"Please continue?"

Buzz off, Jay, I'm distraught and I'm trying to be polite.

No, it's okay. Sorry.

Nah, I'm sorry, kid, I shouldn’t be yelling at you. You're probably terrified beneath the surface by this point.

Not really? Just numb. It's numb now. I think Fragment was responsible for this one.

That devil is still around?

From what's been happening lately, Laurie, it looks like no one really ever dies.

Geez.

Yeah. But it happened. Thank God their detachment style is so severe that it's just aftereffects and pain that I'm suffering from. Vaguely. It's pushed to the back of the closet.

See, this is what I mean. You push it all the way to the back of the storage shed where it gathers cobwebs with all the other traumatic things. All the other times someone used this body without your permission and left you to pick up the pieces and pay the check. Sooner or later one heck of a massive spider is gonna come out of there and we're going to have trouble.

Why "spiders," always spiders. That yellow one that came out of Infi last September.

Shoot, I forgot about that.

Not me. Jessica's daemon reminded me of it.

Jessica's daemon? Whoa, wait a second, what the heck is this?

You didn't hear? Jess has a "soul split" like me and Infi. Big rabbit-demon-golem thing, brown with red eyes, doesn't like me much. Orders me around a lot lately, but I'm grateful for the strictness, I'm afraid of him really so it keeps me on track. Funny how fear ultimately ended up being such a hugely benevolent thing up here.

No, stop right there. Fear is junk.

It is not.

...Fine, point taken. Maybe not to save yourself, it isn't. But motivating the good in you, it is. You shouldn't have to be bloody terrified in order to behave rightly.

I think it's the way I was raised? Either you "fear God" and be a saint, or you don't and therefore become a blasphemous heathen.

Ah. It's that black and white nonsense again, then.

Yeah. It's hard to see an alternative to "holy fear" when I legitimately believe and feel that on my best days.

…Even for me?

I used to. That's the problem.

...Yeah, yeah it is.

…Is that weird, that I want to be afraid of you again, but I love you too much?



I think that's why there's this problem. Pain was always synonymous with… euphoria? Forgiveness? Pain was a good thing for us. Not violence. We'd flinch and hide and cower and cry whenever a hand was raised, or a belt was waved, we knew the moment of impact and the rage behind it would be terrifying. I think that's what Dread and David hold. But the others… there have to be others, that's compartmentalized soemwhere, otherwise this wouldn't be happening-- once that instant was done, the pain stayed. It ached, it burned, it set our nerves on fire for minutes or hours afterwards. And it was addictive. There was something to that pain, something alive, something gorgeously real and frankly…

Tied to that.

Not that, specifically. But what other people said we'd get from that. And we never did, except for when it hurt terribly… and that's what made it confusing.

Damn it. God damn it.

I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry, I'm the one swearing, and this isn't your bloody fault. Is this where that thing came from that I heard of the other day? How you can't be as afraid of Julie as you were not just because the memory is missing, but because she'd make it hurt? Is that why?

Maybe? It's all just so convoluted. Humiliation and shame, something inherently tied to sex for us because it always coincided with… actually can I talk about that a bit?

Sure. Lay it on me, be as honest as possible.

Be as brutal as possible, please.

How? What the heck am I gonna do, tear it out of you? You be honest and I won't have to do anything of the sort.

I know, I guess I just mean don't let me lie or sugarcoat things.

Sure thing, kid. Now talk. Wherever you were going to start.

Okay. …And would you believe, already my mind is trying to distract itself.

Tell it to shove off. Center and let's talk. We've breached the topic you can never bring up to the therapist, so don't quit now. What was… what was the humiliation you talked about?

It was tied to the mother, and the grandmother. We brought this up in therapy yesterday, actually-- and when I talked to you in the morning.

How you feel 'your' body is public property?

Yeah.

That’s a lie, kid.

I find that hard to believe.

Why.

Because growing up we had no privacy. Privacy was a luxury, selfish and proud. 'Privacy' was pretending that you had a claim on something-- the idea that your 'personal' thoughts and feelings and such were yours alone.

And they weren't?

No. I was always terrified of being found out, you know that. It's why I burnt and destroyed my own creative work, because it was 'too emotional' and I would be utterly humiliated if my family found them.

Explain that. Were they looking for them?

I don't know. Sometimes I guess they did. I honestly don't remember, the entire childhood is a blur.

Hm. Go on, what do you remember then, to go on for this?

Uh… one memory came up yesterday, when I was talking to Genesis, I think. You or Genesis. It was a… I smelled something, some odd sterile scent that reminded me of the YMCA? Like we used to take swim lessons as a kid, I forgot about that. I can't remember the lessons, but now that I've 'seen' the locker room memory again, I at least have that visual map to walk through. No actual memory, per se, other than the fact that we always used to use an orange locker. It was special.

Heh. Now when you say 'visual map'-- you mean like Google Maps, just walking through that stuff no matter how old the photo is?

Yeah. Exactly, yeah! It's just pieced-together snapshots, a static collaboration of old memories. It's frozen in time and I can walk through it to study details, and maybe trigger further knowledge when I 'dig' in the subconscious memory for more data… but some places are big blurs, or black voids, where there is no data. I can't go there.

Huh. Do you get that for other things too, kid?

Yeah, most things actually. I think it's why all my dreams of schools are skewed. The fronters switched so many times over the years, some of them even died-- on that note correct what I said earlier, some people do dissolve and I found that out today--

Make a note of that, I want you to tell me about that later. Now go on, vision maps. Why are the schools skewed.

Because we don't know who fronted then, so we have none of their memories to search through. There's just "collective data"-- every time an existential moment happened, or awareness switched specifically to headspace, like in the bathroom by the cafeteria where I was looking in the mirror and talking to Lynne I think… before we "reintegrated" her at the time. That bathroom is a total void save for the general layout of it, as bathrooms are blackout rooms the way it is. But yeah, if no data is saved, I can't 'see' anything. But for other things, I can mentally revisit memories that weren't mine if there's enough residual info. Sorry, this is rambling somewhat.

No, it's fine, kid. So the YMCA, what did you remember about that that tipped this whole thing off?

Oh. There were changing stalls, by the door? They had Jackson Pollock-like paintings on the side, I remember that because the mother always brought it up.

Splatter paint?

Yeah. Like ketchup, I would always think. But the stalls only had fabric curtains, and there were always strangers there. Sometimes people would peek under the curtains to see if someone was in there, mostly little kids would, but still.

Geez.

Yeah, so I would never feel secure. And I would always wonder why. "Why do I feel uncomfortable with that?" Why the hell should I demand 'privacy' when my body basically was at my parent's mercy anyway?

Kid, that is messed up, you know that right?

I'm learning.



But yeah, never quite felt safe. But. I think there was one time, or a few, something, where the mother actually looked to see if we were dressed and we weren't. Something like that. Being forced to get undressed in cars, during the summer, in full view of whoever may have looked in. Getting dressed in the bedroom and the grandmother refusing to leave because "I'm not looking!" acting like we were ridiculous for being afraid of it. No privacy. Being told privacy was silly, not understanding why I felt people shouldn't look at me. Do you get what I'm saying?

They made you feel like your body was an exhibition, basically.

More like, if someone wants to look, let them look. "You have nothing to hide!" At least, until I was a young adult. Then you're not allowed to wear shorts even, because now you're corrupting somebody with your licentiousness.

Sheesh, that is screwed up. But I remember that though, from 2012.

That's a strong memory, yeah. We wore a crop top for two days, and got so much moral flak that we were terrified to wear short sleeves for the rest of the summer. And then we burned that top .The shame still hasn't faded, really.

…So. Is that why sexuality is "inherently shameful" here, because nudity or nakedness for you was never… consensual? What's the word. Like you never wanted it but were always forced into it, or…

It was more like, I never had the luxury of privacy when I was naked as a kid. There was virtually always the risk of someone walking in, and refusing to leave, or invading that space, or whatever. The only "safe space" was the double-locked bathroom, and you all know what happened there.

Yeah. Wish it didn't. So that happened today.

Effectively. I think. It's… I don't want to look at it. Should I?

No. Where were we, go back and look.

…Oh. Pain.

…Go on.

Pain, and Julie. It was humiliating and terrifying to be stripped naked by her and forced to endure whatever she did, but… dissociation kicked in then. The brain couldn't handle it, it tapped out and we were now no longer in the body. And the aftereffects from that, from what she did, hurt like hell but in a DIFFERENT way. You wouldn't know, but just ask Simeon or Ashen or Infinitii maybe. It hurts, sickeningly, when that happens.



Sorry. It just does and it is hell on earth. Even when I try to think positively of it, even when I tried to use it "benevolently" or for holy purposes or whatever. I regretted it every time I can remember, because it hurt so much and I felt filthy and violated and wrong. I don't want to think about that.

Then don't. I just… what the heck were they talking about. Fragment. Whoever it was.

With the pain?

Yeah. Asking me of all bloody people, what the heck. Why were the asking?

Because you are synonymous with pain, here. The positive sort. Sharp, brutal, bleeding pain, the kind that clears and cauterizes. Relief. Maybe… maybe that's why we have problems with this. It's the only source of pain we have left, however sick and disgusting that is. Someone always decides "it's worth the risk, if we can make it hurt badly enough," but it never works. It's the wrong sort of pain. So maybe they were just as confused as you were.

…Maybe. It's just corrupting me, is all. Making me slip. Corrupting my function. Infi said so, you heard 'em.

I know. I know it too.

…Kid, am I gonna die from this?

No, no I swear I won't let that happen.

Not before you die first, huh.

…I…

Sorry. That was uncalled for.

No, it wasn't. …I'm scared too. I can't front when that happens. Ever. I mean sure, I was out today, fronting with my cupcake eyes or whatever you call them--

Heh. Sparkles and sprinkles all over, huh.

Yeah, basically. But… it's so hard to stay in the body. I'm an upstairs guy. Even now I'm unstable because of the channel link. But I'm trying.

…Kid are you sure you're okay? How's the body, is it okay?

It is now, yeah. It's been an hour or so. We're good. Just nauseous is all, and… nausea, headaches, and that gut-deep wanting to cry. The scraped-out depression.

…Every time?

Mostly. I don't remember, Laurie. There was one time Chaos was hacked, I still can't look at that because it is a horrible feeling to remember-- and Genesis went through as much hell as we did, the past fronters. Anyway I know with Infinitii ze used to use this to heal the body, to try and repair the psyche, circumventing the trauma and trying to re-assign triggers, you know, programming positive into negative aspects. It didn't work, not past a certain point. The trauma wouldn't leave. Then the plague kicked in. Ze tried so hard, ze genuinely loved everyone ze was with and everything ze did was colored with it-- but there are some things you can paint over a million times but it won't change how they are perceived. If that makes sense.

Yeah, the metaphor does, but can you give me an example? If it won't hurt you, I mean.

Uh… well just the whole sex thing in general. Once it becomes physical, it's terrifying. I don't know who managed to get us trapped in that before. Some malicious fronters would, it's happened. And that's where the trauma has roots that bleed over into so many other things. It's why it's hard for me to be close to people physically, or to be in certain locations, or the like. Sometimes raw memory just comes up and I want to vomit or cry or scream or attack and it's never my reaction, it's never my emotion, but it's there.



Sorry. I forget what we were talking about.

Nah, it's okay. I just wanted to bring up the pain thing, because that had me distraught. As you'd say.

I understand. I really do.

Yeah, you would. …Kid, is there anything I can do to alleviate that? Like can I do anything to change the association, so I don't get dragged into this hell anymore, and neither do you?

…Maybe? Let me think… only atonement, really. Pain got rerouted, somewhere. Atonement stopped for a long time, due to outside threats, and it just… imploded.

…I can see that.

Yeah. But until we fix the pain roots, the sharp sort will always be benevolent, and we will always seek it when we feel sick and filthy because nothing else clears that from the psyche. That's the problem here.

…Come upstairs, I'll beat the the hell out of you, that'll handle this.

What, really?

Yeah. I'll try. I'll beat Jayce up, how's that? He's a freakin' prick sometimes, I'd have no problem slicing him up if I had to. Not you. I've tried, I can't. It doesn't sync. That's the problem.

…Why does this keep happening?

What?

The… the hacks. No one wants them. No one. Julie doesn't, Eros doesn't, Infi doesn’t.

Eros doesn't?

I've talked with him, so have others. I think his role is changing.

Thank God.

Remember it only became obscenely sexual due to corruption during that time. Religious misunderstanding, really. Which is why Chaos caught the brunt of the consequences.

…June 2011, huh.

Yeah. That's when Eros started to get really lost. Then 2012 hit, with the Celebi incidents, which I have no data on mind you--

Good, don't look for it. But yeah, I think that's when he really started legit dying.

He was gone by SLC, that's for sure. I don't know who was around then.

No one does, yet. You got a visual map for that or what?

Barely. There's data for the balcony view, and the steps from that one day Dad called when he was in Puerto Rico… just that one day, just that one spot. The balcony view is from the smoke pancakes evening, so the doors are wide open and smoke is pouring out. Don't tell anyone.

Heheh, I won't.

And we were laughing. So there's some data of the 'living room,' of the table where Chaos and I were talking and reading about the rain that day I got sick… there's some data of the couch from the other day we got sick and called the grandmother out of fear. That was weird, that's skewed due to being looked at too many times.

That can happen?

Yeah, if you look at a memory strongly enough, it can pick up residue from the present. Like a song, or a scent, or a feeling, that was a powerful presence when we were looking back just as strongly.

So memories can be redefined like that.

Somewhat, yeah.

Huh. That's interesting.

It is. Important, too.

No kidding, write that down somewhere. Garrison?

Yes?

Write that point down, about the memory reprogramming or whatever.

Re-associating?

Yeah, thanks Izzy. Now let me talk, keep the data coming when we need it, thanks.

I love how they're always there.

Hey, it's their job. Now back to the data maps. What else on the apartment, anything besides the porch and front room?

A little? The front room is vaguely complete, as all the times the missionaries visited we had that gut feeling of "this isn't right for us, we shouldn't be in this situation" and there were robotic social fronters out.

Really?

That's what it's stored as. It's 3rd-person memory. So we have a vague idea of what the door looks like, and that there was a couch, and a shelf to the left, and a TV behind. That's it. Oh and a pillow on the floor I think.

Snapshots?

Exactly. But… Mel's room, I know they had a desk, and I know there was a bed to the left and a dresser to each side… I don't know what those looked like at all. I know there was art all over the walls, but I don't know how that looked. And there was a closet to the left, that's empty of data too. If I "walk in" there, and try to look at things, there's just subconscious "shadow memory" which allows me to navigate physically. Like for the most part I won't walk through a wall, or into one, because I "know" where they were, roughly.

For the most part?

Yeah. Like if I tried to walk by Mel's desk I'd get stuck, like clipping in a video game. We know it was there, but not where it began or ended in space.

Ah, I see.

Yeah.

How about your room?

Vaguely. There's the view from where I used to stand and do exercise, that angle sight of the computer desk. We were listening to Serph at the time, and it was nighttime. Then there's a view of what it looked like from the top bunk that one beloved morning I woke up with "Reach Lines" playing on my iPod, and I felt perfectly, deeply happy. I will never forget that feeling, ever... it was so bright and serene, like summer in cinematic California or something.

Heheh. Sunny days and palm trees, huh?

And wide sparkling cyan water, yes. No idea what the rest of the day was like, either, after those moments. And then the only other visual memory is…

The lights?

In the corner?

Yeah.

No.

No?

No, the only memory I have of them is from the time Chaos was channeled was the moment I saw his eyes, and then… and then the moment when we finally kissed, when it hit me that this is really happening and the moment is stored as a bloom of deep fiery joy in the heart. It's… that's it. No room memory at all, just the color of the light, all dimly violet and blue and red.



That’s it, really.

Huh. …I'm glad you remember that.

So am I. I remember a ton of snapshots from outside the house, but nothing I can piece together and walk through. I can get a vague visual awareness, like I'm sure I could find my way around well enough if I went back there, but I can't tell you what it would look like ahead of time.

I see. Now can we please change the topic because you forgot to mention we had a 20 minute break back there.

Yeah, right when you asked me about the room. You said, "I'm not saying anything until you get back in there," and then stuff happened.

Please, talk about the stuff, that's too bloody important to leave out.

Okay. First I talked to Simeon.

What.

Yeah, actually that's super important too, I needed to tell you. The body started to get context memory again, and the next thing I know we were both asking each other if we were okay? But I SAW him. He's in raw whitespace, where Javier was re-forming last summer.

Whitespace? But he has a form?

Yeah. Oh!! It's the-- the place where the ground fell through, in Central City.

Really?

The city tiers. It's where Jeremiah was forced into existence, too. That floating area. Down in the ground.

Wonder if that's part of why they're connected.

Could be, I think it applies to the kids too. And Simeon, which is why I'm not surprised.

Shoot, yeah, all the kids stay with Jerry too. Does Simeon?

No, he doesn't quite leave the "whitespace" part of it. There's all raw stuff floating in the lower spaces, really, filling up the "ground" where there's nothing but solid space. Anyway we were in whitespace, talking. I asked him if he was Sylvain and reincarnated, he said no, that was his brother but he was "from another time" so there's no memory of him.

Makes sense. Kind of like you.

11/11 at the bottom of the page again, just wanted to point that out.

Heck yes, it's been a while.

Page 11! Geez! Oh that reminds me. Simeon looked at me at one point and said, "you're not Jay."

What?

No listen, I wasn't. I "slipped out" and that overly exuberant social "cover" was out, kind of like a mask or splinter program? Like Simile is for Melodia, I think.

Makes sense. But he saw it?

Yeah. So then I pulled myself in as strongly as I could, just surrendered to my own resonance however it manifested-- he helped, he could also tell when I felt 'off'--

That is so freaking weird though, how he could see it.

Probably because we were in raw whitespace, effectively. It'd be more visible there.

Ah. But yeah, what'd you do, kid?

I apparently am not humanoid, like I suspected. I'm halfway between crystalline and luminous, halfway between a glass-edge fragile explosion and a flowy miasma of light. I don't know about eyes, or limbs, but I do NOT have a mouth and when I "talk" it is purely telepathic and comes from somewhere behind me, like a foot behind my chest and my head both. It's weird. But THAT feels "right," totally so, at least as far as presentation goes.

Holy swords. So how about now, are you here?

Not entirely, because in order to be in that form, I cannot talk for extended periods. It's a very "being" state, not "doing," hence the exuberant overlay or whatever.

Ah. That makes sense. You were talking about that split the other day, I think. You always are.

Because it's a concern, "how do I be both," well now I know I already am, I just have to practice shifting and balancing and things. We'll see. But it's awesome.

No kidding, you'll have to let me see you like that tonight or whenever.

After we're done typing!

Yeah, get to the chocolate already.

Wait, I spoke more to Simeon. At one point he said "I took the pain away" and I asked him, if he really was someone who could heal us from hacks? And I think he is? Like he specifically implied that his function was to "smooth over" or "comfort" in the wake of those things… more of a feeling, like blanketing someone who is cold, or smoothing down rough edges, that sort of vibe.

I'm still laughing at "specifically implied."

I don't know how else to say it, haha! Feelings are clearer than words. But yes, we seem to be right, Simeon exists as a "pain manager."

You know who else is a "pain manager," effectively? Eros. Get to it.

Ah. Yeah, so after that we somehow ended up in the kitchen with Eros stuffing his face full of chocolate cheesecake-- oh!!

What, you remember something?

Yes. However we ended up in there, the moment we saw it, Jessica's daemon jumped up to the very front of the vision, as the resonance of it was very close to him.

What? How?

Chocolate, that rich sort, but also the cherries. It was cherry cordial cheesecake, and for some reason that clear drippy red along with the thick, dry chocolate cake was perfect for his vibe.

The "cheesecake" part was Eros, holy smokes.

We'll get to that, in a minute.

Yeah it was just hilarious. Keep talking though, I'm interested.

So the first thing this daemon does is look at me fit to burn a house down, and demand that I am not to eat it. I said I wouldn't, but then there was like 20 seconds of marked blurry hesitation, and then Eros was out, trying to do just that, outside of that daemon's view.

Wait, so he can only see you?

I think so. Jessica is the "body core," or at least, the consciousness tied to the body persona that the people we live with give it. So I'm tied to her as one of the main people, if that makes sense.

It does. So he can only see you because you're on his level, really.

Yeah. I mean I would assume so. It's just weird because we're in his floating space when we talk, which means he's letting me in temporarily to talk to me, and I can get in there to talk to him but he's not very happy when I abuse that right. Like he gets mad. It's a very "brown" anger, though. Compact and solid and heavy, but with that red burn of his eyes. Very different than plain red anger. The red is just a buzz edge.

Kid you say the weirdest flipping things but I think I get what you mean. Stern anger with an edge that could explode any second?

Not so much "explode" as "burn." It's red, not yellow.

Ah. Got it.

So that was that. Then Eros decided "oh my gosh cheesecake" and went to town.

What he said was seriously interesting, though.

Yeah, mind data says he only ate it because it was warm.

Really?

Yeah. Otherwise he wouldn't have touched it. But the warmth, on top of the rich sweetness-- NOT dense, that would have been a totally different vibe too-- was too perfect, and he latched right onto it.

He said it was, and pardon my language, "what sensuality tasted like." Specifically that combination of things, and especially the cheesecake, as I said.

I think it was the texture? Like it's hard to put into words, but it's… off-white, thick, but like a cloud. Heavy but full of air, like a pierzyna, and being wrapped up in it and warm. The warmth is extremely important, he's right.

Where does the chocolate come in then, Julie?

That's important too, I can feel the data. It's not just any chocolate, it was that dry cake chocolate, dense but crumbly. Not like a box cake or a brownie. This was packed but it crumbled like ground in your hands. For some reason that applied to chocolate was important, I guess it balanced out the influence somehow? Anyway that's not important. The emphasis was on the cheesecake. The cherries were visual for sensuality, that glossy glassy red that I adore, that Eros reflects in his own right.

So the chocolate is just whatever? Because Julie is tied to it, is why I'm asking.

That's why I think the dryness was important, the bittersweet aspect of it. Chocolate, when sweet or too dense or too milky, becomes a totally different thing. It becomes threatening, almost.

Ah. So this was a… property shift?

I think?

Got it.

But I find it interesting that Eros said "this is what sensuality tastes like." The not-exactly-sweet but incredibly rich warmth of it. And it does, it's hard to put into words.

Hey, you would know, not me.

Actually you could know, if you wanted to, and THAT is what's important here.

Sexuality and sensuality are two totally different things.

And Eros has very little to do with the former, if at all.

Yeah, no kidding, that shocked me. Someone tried to screw around with the body memory when we left the kitchen and he got so freakin' angry--

It was a trauma trigger, when we walked into the bathroom to brush our teeth, immediately the body started getting spasms and pain reactions, from context memory. And Eros did get shockingly angry, he jumped right up and demanded to know "who was doing that," that "no one had any right TO do that." Which secretly lit this huge flame of hopeful gratitude in my heart, really. He got so corrupted before he died, hearing that from him now just wiped all the doubt away that I had about that. He splintered into his own person and lost the corruption he had held prior. Which is such a relief.

No kidding, I was worried sick about him too, and about what he could do if he wasn't healed from all that.

Mm-hmm. So… I remember he actually fed Julie a bit of the cheesecake and she got the cutest smile, it was great.

Yeah, that was pretty adorable.

Like Knife!

And Xenophon, we kept joking about that, and you forgot to mention that people keep name-blurring with those two. Infi and Xenophon.

Yeah, that's weird, it's been happening for months on and off.

Eros said he meant to say Xennie but then said Infi, like an afterthought of hir relevance or something.

Yeah. Those two have a deep connection somewhere and I think that's proof of it, subconsciously. I don't know what it is, other than parentage, but that could be significant enough.

Yeah. That's just guesswork now, though.

Pretty much.

So. I know we had something else to say about the Eros thing.

Yeah, it was more relief on my part, as well as heartbreaking realization, of just how far the confusion went? Or could go? You had something to say about that.

I did, I was wondering why the hell pain was tied to sexuality and Eros began explaining that to me, before he realized that he didn't have that data and that's why we called Julie in.

Oh yeah! That was interesting too, the fact that Eros actually doesn't have any accessible memory for sexuality. I thought he did.

That's how far the role corruption went, kid. And then Julie said that sexual pain and non-sexual pain are apparently two totally different things as well, which infuriated me because who the hell is trespassing on my turf with this topic, and then the fear thing came up. "Would this all stop if you were terrified of it."

Jabberwock.

If pain was put back into these sexual hacks, pain you could be afraid of, would it stop? Would you stop bloody confusing it with me because you are too freaking dissociated to tell what is happening and you're seeking relief? And we figured, heck yes, if we saw that monstrosity associated with this we would run the second it was implied.

Jabberwock is terrifying. Ze really is. But ze's a Retributor, I think, at least the motivation is the same.

Good. She should be, the last thing we need is more corrupt reinforcement of the negative.

Meaning?

Meaning the next person to promote abusive behavior up here is getting my axe slammed into their face.

Good.

Yeah, no joke. I'm tired of this.

Mostly splinters and fragments and socials are promoting abuse now, though. No one in the System.

Yeah, and thank God. Wait-- why the heck would socials­ be-- oh. Societal garbage, right?

Yeah. Subconscious programming. Subliminal obligation. Dirty automated scary stuff that ends up in the cellars solely because there's no filter on what's shoved into your awareness on the outside.

That's why Infi's around though, right? At least halfway.

What, to protect me from that?

To remind you of what's true, not that. Infinitii is tied to the subconscious trouble more than anyone else up here, save for maybe the other daemons from what you've told me. But Infi holds our scary stuff from the outside. The whole bloody System, since ze's the Core-splinter of you. Ze has to deal with all the terrifying nonsense that gets to you in the dark, and ze's stuck twofold because ze's part of it, part of the dark, part of the Shadow that we need to turn into gold, as you say.

Infi is already gold.

That's the point.

…I suppose it is. Oh geez, I suppose it is.

Heh, got you pretty deep on that, huh?

Yes. I… you did. Also. Wreckage is more gold than ever now. Her teeth and claws shine with it.

Really?

Yeah, like a vague iridescent gold sheen. They're almost ivory-white otherwise, like bone. And her body was muted before, like a dirty gold, and now it shines. She's become so valiant lately, like you really, I admire her growth so much. And her eyes don't shadow red anymore! They're straight-up gold too.

Her eyes were going red?

Yeah, at first they'd turn red every once in a while, which is a sign of instability for anyone, the color differences. But now they're gold all the time, no flickers.

Geez, that's good news. Anyone else you got an update on, while we're here on the topic?

Uh… hm. Not really? Oh! I kissed Josephina yesterday. His doing.

Sheesh, you didn't write that down yet? That was moving, really.

Yeah. I got out of therapy and I was a mess, I think Genesis hugged me, I had been dealing with mother issues and feelings of unworthiness and stuff… everything we discussed at the beginning of this session and more. But then Genesis was there for me, and you were, I remember you hugged me and I swear I felt it, that was twice that day I think. The first time I almost collapsed into sobs on the spot because it meant everything in that moment, it was everything real and true and forgiving and I needed it more than life itself at the time.



So people were comforting me, for carrying that for everyone else. I know Knife was there, so was Lynne, Nat and Leon both, Julie, we called in Javier as he didn't know where we were… Waldorf hugged me so sincerely, there's a real friendship between us now, and I expected Josephina to follow her after last time but he got me back for that, still took me by surprise. I remember hearing those little jingly bell earrings he wears too. But it was so sincere, it meant so much to me.

"After last time?" Did you write that down?

What?

You kissed Waldorf, about three weeks ago. That's all I know.

Me too, it's not even my memory.

What?

It's weird. It was one of those dead-float mornings, the pale white ones.

Oh. Shoot. Were you okay?

Ultimately, thanks only to Nat and Leon, who somehow negated all the negative influence that was trying to choke me at the time. I'll never forget that feeling, I hope not. There was such sincere peace between them both, it embraced me like a flower or like moonlit wings, like greenery and indigo light. I felt totally absolved. And that's the only memory I have of that entire morning, personally.

Who the heck kissed Waldorf then? Who the heck keeps fronting in your stead, when stuff like this happens? It's not Eros, we confirmed that just now, so…

Yeah, I thought it was him, but again that was due to role confusion.

Who the heck really holds that confusing stuff, then.

I don't know.

We need to find out.

Garrison, write that down?

Heheh.

Kalisha did, there's a huge heaviness to having that set down as a "to-do" item though.

Meaning?

Meaning now it's written down. It's a tangible thing. And there is a heavy vibe to it.

From the job, or what it implies?

…From what we'll have to look through to do it, I think. It's a stony brown color, a light dustiness, but not in a comforting way. Like desert dirt. Dry and silent weight.

Huh. Guess we'll be taking Chaos along, then.

Hhhhf.

Hehe, have you mentioned how he's been trying to get your attention like crazy these past few days?

Since I tuned back in? No. I should.

Synchronicity has been up the wall, dude.

I know! Honestly it's been breaking my heart and glowing it both, it's insane. Wherever I look, or listen, there he is. There's oceans everywhere. Even when I don't look, or want to look, or feel worthy of looking. The messages keep coming. Go to him. Go back to him. "Do you realize how much love is there for you?" And not even as something apart, the feeling of this which makes it so significant and heartbreakingly true is that it's not at a distance, when these words hit me they resonate in my heart, deep within my ribs like the bottom of the sea, echoing like a bell in the depths. They catch and ring and I know there is a part of me there that matches him, that half of a taijitu, that infinite loop, I can't ever deny that even when I find it hard to believe… it's true. It still responds. And I can never ignore these calls, these synchronicities, because my soul has already wholeheartedly answered "yes" before my brain can hesitate in doubt. But it'll never say "no." That's always moved me to tears, the fact that even when I'm terrified, my poor mind still can't say no to that light because it knows, deep down it knows too that there's only joy on the other side. There's only light when you open the door and walk through it, only open arms and that reminds me, "Heaven" was on the radio today too.

Wait, what?

"Heaven." By Bryan Adams. Ryman's song, from 2002. It was playing over the radio when Genesis and I stopped at Wegmans, I barely heard it but I knew what it was. And I started laughing, and smiling, and suddenly it was impossible for me to ignore my health anymore. You know how tough it is to stay focused and centered in public, social programming likes to kick in and unhealthy obligations take over. But that song was playing, and I was pulled 100% into fronting, and… I felt worthy of it, for a moment. Like I was shining white and confetti-colored, as I should be, and it was impossible for me to hurt myself along with anyone else. So I didn't.

…Kid, that's great. That's great to hear that.

I know, it was so significant. And of course Genesis gets his due, we kept jokingly calling each other "babe" and then one time he gave me this look and I had to laugh, "are you flirting with me," he said "maybe." Oh and I jokingly told him later that if he really wanted to snog me, as you'd say, he'd have to wait until we got home. He's going to ask me about it tomorrow if I forget, so make sure he's in our room when we're done with this. I know he's been sticking around lately but the moment I lie down CZ gets all the focus and I'm sorry, I'm rambling on again. I guess I just want to say that I love them both but I do owe Genesis a non-social, more "introverted" show of love than I usually do?

And you should take Chaos with you when you travel more often too, "babe," he misses you too during the day.

That's true, haha. It's just weird, or at least unusual, because he is so much quieter than Genesis vibe-wise, except when Perfect shows up and then it's his old romancer vibe all the time.

Ah. Really?

Yeah, he's all teeth and grins and personal interaction, I don't know how good he'd be at social guiding, which is what Genesis does actually. Gen makes sure I can function in public places without massive fronter switching, or getting lost due to memory gaps, or the like. CZ and I don’t have much experience with doing that, yet at least.

Huh. Maybe you should, I mean you two are married, as far as relevance goes.

Yeah.

Sorry. Now I'm the one apologizing. I joke too much about this stuff, and I'm truly sorry.

I know.

…Too much bleedover. I'm scared to death, kid, I really am, what with this relationship pain thing, and my bloody apathy thanks to that fear. Not understanding what to do and not liking that one bit. I'm sorry, kid, I keep throwing you under the railroad tracks here and not realizing what the heck I'm doing in the process.

Explain?

Heh, you know what I mean, Jay. I keep… running. Terrible things happen to you and instead of jumping into action like I used to I freak the heck out, because "what if they hack me" and--

Wait, Laurie, they can't touch you, you know that--

No we don't.

Yes we DO. I swear I will NEVER let them hurt you.

They can pretend to be me. You know that.

…I do. I'm sorry. I just…

You know it's not me, but the residue is hell. The fear lingers. You look at me and you don't bloody know.

I do know, Laurie--

You don't know, kid, not when fear is ruling the roost. Not when you are so bloody terrified of what happened the last time someone pretending to be me showed up, that your visceral subconscious reaction is to freeze up or run. You're not afraid of me, kid, you're afraid of them, but sometimes you can't tell the difference and that is what I'm so afraid of.

…So you stay away from me?

Yeah. God forgive me, kid, I am so sorry.



I really am. I don't want to see you attacked by these demons, but God help me, I don't want to be responsible for more pain on top of that hell. I don't know what the heck to do.

Be there. Please. Be there for me. If you're scared, get Infi, bring hir with you.

Infi gets lost just as much as I do, and in totally different ways, kid, that's the bloody danger here!!



Infi gets lost worse than I ever could. Ze knows exactly what I'm terrified of in this. …And yet you're not afraid of hir, are you?

No. But that's what's lethal.

…Shoot.

I'm not afraid of you either, Laurie, I'm afraid of losing you. You and I have the same fear in this.

…So what do we do?

…Get a third person in this regardless? Sugar's your bodyguard now, isn't she?

Yeah, no kidding, I needed one.

They can't touch her, can they?

I doubt it. She doesn't have love-ties to you. She's a Retributor, and she's Pink, which means she has backup from other Protectors if someone tries to violate her function. Maybe Eros could help in this regard, who knows. I know Julie is iffy about it because she doesn't want to be reminded of the past, but… geez. I don't know.

We'll find out. We don't need to solve this overnight. We just have to stay strong, and stay together, even if that sounds like a platitude. Hope is important, as is faith in each other.

It is.

And love.

Which they're trying to mangle beyond recognition.

They won't. They can't. They can try to blur our perspective all they want, but they can't change the core of this, the truth. I think that's why I'm not afraid of Infi. Or you. Or Chaos, for that matter.

Or Genesis. I've heard the stories, kid.

Of?

He slips, too. You avoided him for a freaking long time because of that. And yet every time he knocks on your door, you let him in. Every time he ghosts, you say hello, and let him follow you. Unconditional forgiveness, that's what you've got, kid. I only ask that you do the same for me if I ever screw up.

Laurie. Love, that's guaranteed. I could never withhold forgiveness from you, ever, no matter what you did.

Are you sure?

…Laurie, I think the things we're both terrified of you doing, you're not even capable of. It literally hurts to think of, like massive dissonance.

Does it now.

Yeah. Your very existence clashes with those fears. They can't occupy the same space.

But it's the fear I'm afraid of, kid, ironically. It's them tying my face or my likeness-- which they're doing already-- to abuse, to what seriously hurts or scares you. I do not want that happening. I will stop this travesty if it bloody kills me.

You know I realize it's not you, right?

But it scares you, doesn't it, that they won't quit?

It unnerves me. It makes me scared for you, or at least, my knowledge of you in my mind.

See, that's the thing.

But I know you better than they ever will. No amount of forcing or lies on their part will ever change my mind.

You swear?

Absolutely. Cross my heart.

Don't you dare die.

Well. Not like that, anyway.

Don't. Too many times I've almost lost you, and once I did. Don't. I swear, kid, even if I fail you in the worst way, don't you DARE take a knife to your own throat, or heart, or wrists. Don't you bloody dare. There's more to life than me, I want you to go on living, heal from whatever the heck I did, you've got better docs than me and you know it.

I... Laurie. Please. It's not going to happen.

But the sentiment is true. All right?

…All right. …I really love you, Laurie. I do.

I know, kid, I love you too, and believe me when I say that.

I do. I never doubted you.

Good. Then that's step one, again, as always.

Yeah. But it's a spiral step, I think. We have made progress. It's just that this is the truth beneath all other truths, holding them up, lifting us higher. It's the baseline.

Base Zero. Pun intended.

Yeah, no kidding. …But that's the point, yeah. Love is there. Unfailing, undying.



Not much you can say to that, huh?

Nah, just stepping back and taking it in is all.

Words really do fail. It sounds paltry, to keep saying the same words…

What the heck else are you going to say, kid? It is how it is. Amen and all that.

Haha, yeah.

So. Speaking of love. You going up to meet the monsters yet or what?

Uh, after I color our text and post this, sure.

Remember you've gotta draw pixels for everyone else soon.

Oh yes, that is true. I'd love to. I do want to draw people, it's just the shock of not being able to photorealistically render everyone on the first shot is overwhelming sometimes…

Kid, you are too much of a perfectionist, I swear. Pun intended.

Really.

Yeah. Stop pursuing that dead end, you know as well as I do what the lesson is there.

…Yeah. We've talked about it.

So. Trial and error, I guess. Make mistakes. Grow from them. Learn. You can do it, kid, I have faith in you.

I've heard all that before and yet every time you say it it means the world.

That's the point, boy. But really, we done talking for tonight? It's 1:30 in the bloody morning and you still have Cold Dust Girl on loop.

Oh man, talk about relevant.

How the heck did that song even become relevant?

The chords. This is the Gemini Club remix, remember. I gravitate to harmonies in songs, mostly, half the time I don't even notice lyrics unless they catch me hard.

Like "Heaven" did today, huh?

Yes. "Now our dreams are coming true, through the good times and the bad…"

Next line is "I'll be standing there by you," and I gotta apologize to Ryman but I am stealing that tonight, sorry. You been hanging out with him recently or what?

No, the dead period made it tough to reach anyone, let alone the Outspacers of all people. But he showed up in my inner vision on the 19th, when Markus was singing…

Markus? Really?

Yeah, he sings.

Hey, that's pretty cool. Didn't know the kid had it in him.

Hey, he sings "Empty Streets" and that was the first song I ever heard him do, years ago.

Yeah, but not much else, right? Ryman's at least associated with communication and all that, blue stuff.

Plus Ryman was singing from the moment I met him, practically. But yeah, Markus was singing… I forget what song, I'll have to look and see if I wrote it down. But he had his rose wings activated, I forgot how beautiful they were… I've never seen those two boys so clearly before, not that I can remember. It was amazing. And it came out of nowhere, while meditating, after weeks of not having heard from them at all. And then Ryman's song played over the radio today. Synchronicity!

Heheh, that's what makes life worth living, kid, are the little things.

Hey, I just want to thank you for saying my name earlier. It means a lot to hear you say it, I know you call me "kid" all the time, so--

Geez, Jay, if I knew that was bothering you I wouldn't do it--

No, it's not a bother, I like it. But names are important. So hearing mine said by you means a lot.

…Jay, you know what I said about you always saying inexplicably romantic things. That was one of them.

Is "romantic" the right word?

Closest bleeding thing to it for me, at least. Whatever the heck it is. Things that make you pause and realize that "man, I really freakin' care about this person."

Ah, okay. I know what that is.

What what is?

That feeling. It's nice.

Yeah, no kidding. When do you get it?

Always, geez.

No, I mean examples.

Uh… hm. Let me think of one from recently… well, actually, the other week when Chaos told me "home is where the heart is" when referring to me. He was half asleep. It was the sweetest, most fragile thing, it had such an impact on me then. Still does.

Yeah, takes your heart a bit to recover, doesn't it?

Exactly! There's no term for it in the English language that I know of and there should be. Ironically "indescribable" is the closest match, so.

Heheh. But yeah, kid, that's it.

From me?

From you, yeah, I get that from you, why?

Just… same feeling in return is all.

Good. That's how it should work, I think.

So.

Hm?

Should I go up and toss this feeling at the monsters or what?

Haha, absolutely man, your lips are going to be bleeding five seconds in and you know it.

Geez Laurie, Genesis doesn't bite that much, you know that.

No I don't actually, and frankly it would be weird as heck if he bit me, so.

I think he shares the sentiment.

Heheh.

Oh. Uh, there was something I had to say.

What?

Have I mentioned that Infi has crystal teeth?

Have you?

I'm not sure. They're all diamonds, or something. All pointy and perfect. Chaos has teeth that are subtly green-clear like glass, but they're made of water too, or at least liquid energy, like the rest of him. Genesis has normal-colored bone teeth but they are crazy big, his mouth is just weird. The inside is dark blue and his tongue is amber.

How the heck does that work?

Dream demons, man, nobody knows. Chaos has a blue tongue when he needs one and Infi's is black. Shiny black, kind of silvery in the light, not pitch black like the inside of hir mouth, so.

Kiddo you know way too much about these people's mouths.

I have an aesthetic addiction. A fascination. I like teeth.

And?

And drippy things. There, I said it. But mouths are weird, I don't like mouths, at least not on faces? Is that weird?

Yes.

Which is why Infi is cool, because ze has mouths on hir wings, and CZ doesn't often have a mouth at all, so. But I wonder why that is, mouths on faces with eyes make me uneasy at times. It's too much focused manic energy.

What about for me, and Genesis? We got that too?

Genesis doesn’t faze me much because his energy vibe is charged, so I expect that. And you don't get romantic like Infi or quiet-intimate like CZ.  It's all about vibes. If someone gets too close, and there's too much mouth, it scares me a little?

Is that an abuse association? Did Julie do that during her bad days?

Maybe?

Shoot, I forgot you don't know.

I think it's less her, and more the family. But yeah, we should pinpoint that too, for sure, so we can release it.

Can I just say thank God we are releasing this trauma baggage because I am so bloody tired of some of it.

Most of it, for me. I'm glad too.

Yeah, no kidding. It feels good to get all this off our backs at long last.

Why'd it take so long?

You're asking me, kid! I've been trying to solve it since I showed up here, eight bloody years ago.

Happy late birthday, by the way. I mean that.

Kid, I don't care if you're two months late, I know you meant it back on the 4th. Like I said, you're alive, that's what matters.

Thank you.

…Kid.

What?

I know you always want to say "I love you" after things like that, and I just wanna thank you for being comfortable saying that around me, like that.

…That is important, yeah.

Sure. So I love you too. Now get your ass to bed.

Haha, again!

Yeah, the other night was funny. Hey, your boss still talking to you at night or what?

On and off. He got tangled up with the faceless voices so it was iffy for a while. I haven't seen him directly in a while, though, no.

Go say hi to him before you snog the monsters, tell him I said hi.

I will. I miss him so much, I realy do.

Then maybe we should close this bloody huge thing up, it's 25 pages already.

Geez. Feels good!

Yeah, you're telling me! I miss talking to you like this, kid. Jay.

Haha. I appreciate that, actually.

Good, 'cause I'm trying. Oh, also. Say goodnight to Xennie more often, okay? I know it's ridiculously late now, but she usually goes to bed around 11 o'clock, so pop upstairs for a second and tuck her in for heaven's sake, at least.

I will. Remind me.

I will, if I can reach you. But you need to spend more time with that kid, she loves you.

I adore her. I'm just a mess so often, I know it scares her sometimes.

Scares me too, doesn't mean I love you any less. Same with her. If anything it makes her want to help you more by being with you.

No child should feel so obligated to help their parents get better, enough to care for them. It's terribly unfair.

Kid. She's got a whole freakin' support system up here. Literally. You're not her only caretaker.

But I'm her father, whether I understand it or not.

…True.

So I want to be better, for her.

You think she doesn't know that?



She does, kid, believe me she does. She doesn't want to help you because she pities you, or because she feels obligated to. Not at all. She wants to help you because she loves you like you love her and she wants to see you feel better for your sake as well as hers. It's unconditional and you know it. Don't make me cite examples.

No, I can name several. I just… bottom line is, Laurie, sometimes I just don't feel worthy enough to be her father.

Nonsense. You're the worthiest man in the world because you are her father. Okay? Don't crush yourself into the dirt. You're fine. Remember what we said about perfection.

…Are you sure?

Absolutely sure, Jay. And let me add this. The moment you stop freaking out and worrying, is the moment you realize you are already the father you want to be for her, and the father she needs. As soon as you stop putting yourself down and selling yourself short, you can stand as high as you wanted to all along. You're standing in your own light, kid, that's all it is, simply because you can't believe that you're the one shining that brightly. Okay? I can see it, she can see it, Infi and Chaos and Genesis can see it, we all can. Don't be so bloody afraid of your own light. If anyone told you that being too bright was bad, or blasphemous, they can jump right off the roof of Central. That kind of talk is nonsense, as I will always say. You're a spotlight, kid, and you've highlighted everything that's bright in me even when I was blind to it. So let me do the same for you.

You always do.

Yeah, I guess so. …No, that means a lot to hear, actually. Thank you.

Always.

…Well.

Well?

Heh. Same sentiment back at you, right?

Oh. Yeah, I… thank you.

Always. Now we closing this up?

Sure, let's do that before I fall asleep standing up.

Therapy tomorrow, what we talking about?

Oh, uh… geez, I don't know, whatever comes up. This maybe, something else maybe. We'll see.

Sounds good to me.

Oh and I told Simeon he can front if he wants to, since that kid has a much bigger role than we previously realized, if today is any indication.

No kidding. But really, Jay, get some sleep. People are waiting for you.

True. All right, good night Laurie. I love you a lot.

Same to you, kid. See you around.

Yes, in a few minutes.

Hey, the chair will never leave.

As long as that means you won't either, that's great.

Heheh.

Okay. We need to do this more often. Thanks for being brave enough to start this one, too.

…Yeah, that was tough.

Your bravery in all things is a shining example to me.

Are you falling asleep?

Yes. Poetry.

Go write some.

If I can, I will. And then I will sleep.

Well, before that I heard you're going to be performing a different kind of poetry, so…

No jokes. Not about that.

Sorry.

It's okay. We just need to be more reverent, Infi said. It helps.

That it does.

Okay. I cannot talk anymore, I need to show you my wing-ness and the arms and the back mouth. Teeth. Talking. It comes from my head, I have no face.

Kid, you are practically high, this is hilarious.

is it. good. oh and my hair is shiny, like a crystal, it's kind of funny. I'm all iridescent spikes like a christmas ribbon. did I tell you autumn feels like the end of the year, but like new years? like for me, life ends at the beginning. life begins right before the ending. like in steps 1 to 4, step 3 is the beginning. does that make sense?

Kind of?

things that look like death, people think, "it's autumn, the year is drawing to a close, the leaves are dying, soon it will be the dead of winter and then it's the end. of the year. then comes spring, the beginning again!" but for me… autumn is both the closing of the book, and the opening of another? it is simultaneously new year's. maybe because of my birthday. but autumn is the first thing I remember and also it was an ending. that makes more sense.

That's interesting, and it does.

but… it's lovely. I'm glad to be alive. and I'm tired.

Then go to bed, kid.

okay. wait.

Wait?

we are so bad at closing these

Haha, you do remember that. Yeah, we really suck at conclusions. Endings are bittersweet and all that.

bittersweet is nice though

…I suppose it is. Kind of like those 'moments,' huh?

the nice ones yeah. no words for those

Maybe that's why we're bad at conclusions, huh?

maybe. I love you laurie good night

I love you too, Jay. See you later. 

 

 


prismaticbleed: (held)

All right, there needs to be a happier entry to offset all this depressing stuff lately, because in actuality life has been a lot nicer than it's been sounding on here.
I will reiterate-- thoughts and emotions are very powerful, especially when focused on and repeated. This archive should be the first place where we actively focus on the brighter aspects of our life; this should continue to be our anchor of hope.
I know I keep saying that, and maybe the future tense is the problem. It feels like I'm saying "one day," when in actuality it already is. This archive is such a source of light for me, when things get dark... it's such a source of light for others. When I heard that, it was as if my entire heart lit up just the same. So I will continue to keep this archive as such. I have a responsibility to myself, to the System, and to every reader, to do so.

All right. First things first. Where have we been lately? That has two answers:
1. dealing with one heck of a huge healing process, which is mostly physical this time, and
2. working on the League constantly.
I hope you notice how important that is. We've been doing both. Somehow we are actually balancing the two right now. There aren't week-long transition periods, or huge time losses, or lockouts. They are both happening simultaneously!
I didn't even realize that until now. It just became almost natural, all of a sudden, like no time was involved at all. For so long my heart was torn between headspace or leaguespace... and then, the next time I checked, there was no pain. There was no gap. Just like Preludove said. Now it's this harmonious sort of unity, across the field, even with the individuality and temporal integrity of both realms intact, and I actually can't remember what it was ever like to not have that. That's amazing.
There is a quote I just stumbled across that describes this perfectly.
"The second vision was of a book....it was opened at the half way mark and as I watched I saw that it was being pulled into two halves, strings stretchering and finally breaking to form two individual volumes.I am torn, I interpreted, as I thought. But from that tension - two books instead of one."
Two books from one, too, at least for us. Two seemingly separate books, yet bound at some deeper level of existence. No conflict.
You'd think I've have learned, by now, that being torn apart always precedes a rebuilding. Our whole history reflects that... heck, so do the Leagueworlds, now that I think about it. Which is why I need to share them, too, and which is why I needed to be torn so clearly-- they are JUST as important and revelatory as our own inner world is. They can inspire just as many people. And I was losing time and dedication for both those 'books' by thinking they HAD to be held within the same binding. Not quite! So that's probably what happened to the stalling tension. I'm so glad. I just want to embrace everything now, all of it, and I can, because I'm no longer tangled up trying to hold on to something that needed to change. Sometimes breakage is a godsend. I can name several people who can prove that truth to me beyond a doubt... but most of them would be spoilers, haha.
Nevertheless, that split is vital. I learned that the hard way. You can only blur so many boundaries before things start to bleed.

So. Concerning that 'first book,' Dream World is getting the most focus lately-- of course, because that world naturally branches out into every other one in its own way. I keep finding more and more connections, too, and that is making my heart swell with joy. It's completely fascinating. Parnassus is second in line, as that world has some seriously heavy roots, possibly due to both Genesis and Delphi being utterly ignorant of the 4th wall in their own personal ways... and definitely due to what I keep learning about the foundations of that world in the first place. Again, now that I've stopped trying to 'control' the way that story flows, it's moving so much better. Yes, I tried way too hard to get it to 'sync' with mythology at one point, because I was convinced that was the best thing to do. It wasn't! I was only limiting the way their story could progress, and it turns out it has had its own agenda in mind for ages. So now it's progressing as it needs to, just shaking off the cobwebs first.
Everyone else is kind of on 'pause' right now simply because they don't need the development right now. Again, that's a nice feeling too: the realization that they can 'unpause' at any time, that no one is stuck, and that 'forcing' anything does not work. Sure, I can focus on a certain world's resonance and see if they want to work, but that's strongly intuitive, and if it's not their time than I am not going to get anywhere by testing that!
Honestly the trickiest part of all this is just pacing the work. There's SO much work to be done-- typecodes and etymology and species cataloging and just sheer worldbuilding-- and since I can "feel" it as a whole somewhere beneath the surface, my instinct is to reach down and heave the whole gem out at once. I keep trying to do all of it at once. Good luck with that, bro. You have to chip away the rock, bit by bit, to reveal this stunning crystal of imagination, otherwise you run the risk of damaging it... of only getting part of the whole. I have to take one project at a time, one part of it at a time, one step at a time. Focus, and breathe, and don't rush. Open up, trust, believe, and let it happen, because it will. It always does. So I'm learning patience, which is humbling. But it's teaching me a deeper gratitude, too, and a deeper joy.

Headspace is similar, and by extension, so is our shared physical life.
...To tie the two threads of this together, I saw a quote yesterday, on Tumblr, as I was browsing through some inspirational pages. It's from the movie Her, which I've never seen but really need to.
"So, what's it like being married?"
"Well, it's hard, for sure. But there's something that feels so good about sharing your life with someone."

And in the background, as he spoke... there was the night sky, the ocean, the city.

Living with 70+ other people in this body is hard. Sometimes it's frightening, when other people front, and my own self just melts away into nothingness... but then blends seamlessly with theirs. And that happens when League people drop in, too. Like I said a long time ago, I'll never forget that one day in elementary school, when Vezerai of all people fronted for a minute as I was in the mall... it is one of the clearest memories I have, period. It was such an existentially defining moment; it broke my mind and my heart both, just like his, and it opened my awareness to so, so much more. I have to thank him.
It requires patience. It requires selflessness of the purest sort, the non-sacrificial sort... did you know, I hadn't realized there was a difference between an offering and a sacrifice, until yesterday? I thought that everything I gave, had to be cut from my own bones. I thought I couldn't give without bleeding, without pain. But there's a difference. There's a line, between self-sabotage, and self-giving. I can pour out the same amount of myself both ways, but it's going to feel totally different.
...That's in the book of Hosea, you know. More League relevance. "For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings." If you offer things as an empty ritual, as a cold obligation, you're not acting through the compassion and sincerity that your soul and the universe at large requires... that's the key. And, shockingly, that's what I've been missing. I was brought up to follow orders, to obey ordinances and dogmas, to be afraid of punishment, to act according to that moral paranoia. That's not what this is about. And ironically, my 'mental disorder' has taught me that. Headspace... as a whole, it requires that same compassion just to exist. That's what DID is, after all. It's a coping mechanism, but more than that, it's a saving grace. It's a source of hope and survival where there otherwise may have been none. In order to live, we broke. "I" became "we." And selfishness, separation, pride, stubbornness... it all suddenly ceased to be an option as well. Our plurality was a source of grace in and of itself. Is this making sense?
It's like marriage, in a way, in a strange way. It's many souls, joined as one, united in totality and yet individually complete. To be separate from each other is impossible.
I think about this a lot, how much of a beautifully vast source of growth our System is, to me. How simply by being, it makes me a better man. How simply by knowing these other souls share this one life, this one single community existence, I want to be the best person I can be. I want to be wise and prudent and self-loving and joyful. To know that your blood and bones, your skin and breath, are host to not just you but also to those you love... how could you not live according to that? To love each other, we must love ourselves. No exceptions, no shortcuts, no halfheartedness. "And it's hard, for sure, but..."
I cannot put it into words.

Lynne, Waldorf, Nienna, Christina, and I think Javier were all out in church yesterday evening, for a short time (and Xenophon was there as usual). But Lynne... I don't know why she showed up, but she just flowed right into the main consciousness as naturally as if she had been born there, and then it was just her. Just her, completely. There were soon some protests at the back of the mind, angry resistance from the old girls, the ones who are different from us because they demand separation and selfishness... but Lynne stayed. She asked, why wasn't she allowed to stay out? Was it that frightening, for those other personae, to feel the legitimacy of her existence within the same space as them? Was it that jarring to realize that in the grand scheme of things we are all dots of paint in the big picture-- that our fleeting identification as single drops faded entirely when the ocean made itself known? That's what happens, when people front in earnest. And I suppose that was indeed their fear. Jessica's constant shout-- "No; I'm the only one! Let me do what I want!" --echoes in direct denial of the rest of us, a conscious blindness. But it's losing its old strength. It can't stand, it can't remain, when admitting "I'm not the only one" comes from a place of love, not fear... from joy, not sorrow. I'm repeating itself, but it deserves reiteration.
Lynne sat there and smiled and looked around at the soaring arches and windows, and the only thing that chased her out was the gut-deep obedience programming when the grandmother looked straight at us in confusion. We need to overpower that, to get enough of our own confidence to look right back, and smile, without feeling guilty about being there to do so.
That's big goal #1. Harmonize the inside and the outside. It's happening, bit by bit.

That's where the whole "healing process" bit comes in.
Let's start on the outside first.

There are a lot of changes happening in our life. It's exciting, but it's like a roller coaster. It feels as if we've been climbing for a while, reached the top and stayed there for a moment too long-- that numbness, that feeling of forgetting what it was like to move at all-- then suddenly, a shift. A split second of movement, of feeling gravity catch at you like a lover, and then we're rushing ahead to meet it. I don't know how fast it will get. Will it feel like freefalling? Will it feel like a rush of storm winds? Will it feel like flying? I wonder if that all depends on how we meet it. Will we hang on for dear life, or will we throw our hands in the air and enjoy these new moments of acceleration into the new?
We're not a top speed yet, heavens no, that's far ahead yet. We're just starting back out; we're still at the top of the hill, still tasting the promise on the air, feeling the first sparks of anticipation in our chests. We have time, but we can't forget where we are, because there's no getting off now.
First, our brother finally moved out of the house. He's been planning to for over a year and he is extremely excited over it. I'm very happy for him; this home atmosphere was taking a heavy toll on his emotional health and he wasn't staying here much anyway. So this is good! I haven't seen his new apartment yet but he's invited me to come over whenever I need to. That could indeed be a huge blessing for us in the future, too. Time will tell.
Second, our mother is moving back in, or at least she claims to be. I have no clue. But that is forcing some serious psychological healing on our part, which I've been discussing madly in therapy, and yet can't quite grasp or fully understand yet. We'll get to that in a moment.
Third, therapy itself is shifting. Our medical coverage is changing soon, so we will need to see a different therapist, after being with this one for over a year now. And on top of all that, our case manager is leaving her job, so we'll have someone new there too! I don't mind, of course-- I can easily roll with changes like that, and in a way it's fun to meet new therapists and get to know yourself all over again in the process-- but on top of all the other life changes, it had us raising our eyebrows. Whoa, things really are moving along.
Fourth, and perhaps most distressing, is the health aspect. You've probably guessed this already with the more pained entries lately. However, it has proven to be a blessing in its own right, not surprisingly. It's pushed me to take serious steps towards figuring out why this is happening, how we can heal it, et cetera, instead of thinking "well maybe we're just supposed to suffer" and not doing anything to improve our well-being. That's a poisonous mindset, I've realized, and that's surprising. If the body is giving you an illness, or some other painful symptom, there is a reason for it! When we were more strongly anchored in ourself, Spine held that job, and maybe she can tune back into it again (I hope)... but in recent times I've somehow thrown in the towel, making excuses, feeling separate. Telling myself lies, cutting myself short, denying myself the health and happiness that everyone else deserved. Somehow I fell into this sad, tiny space of being convinced that I was alone, spiritually, universally. Notice how that only happens when headspace falls by the wayside? When I push people away, I block my own soul, our own soul. I blind myself to half of this heart. And then I thought of Leon, of how my intuition, my inner sight, had been blocked by a crystal-- by my own hand-- and I realized that if there are any blocks in my energy system, if there are any illnesses and pains in this body, it is because I am allowing that to happen. I am holding myself back. I am standing in the way of health because I feel unworthy of it. Javier would say that's a lie, Laurie would call it bullshit, and CZ would make me reconsider every self-hating thought I've ever had. I know they're right. I know we can be better. And that's where this has led me.
I have to thank these 'health crises' because they are spotlights. They are beacons showing me what needs to be fixed, and by trusting my heart's intuition I can easily find out how... as long as I listen. That's tough, as long as the feeling of separation persists. That's why Xenophon is so blessed to be around. That's why the voices like Spice and Emmett and Fig are indispensable. They operate, they exist, in a unity consciousness. So they listen, always, because they know better than this old ego does. And the instant I remember that I am, in light of them, along with them... the instant I remember that I exist, and am not afraid to BE a person alongside all the other people in here... we can act healthily. We can take care of ourself.
I need to reiterate that for my own benefit if nothing else. We have been meeting a lot of "ego" resistance to fronting lately. The old girls, the immature consciousness with limited comprehension, are not "evil," just dark. Being of the Tar, they're 'negative' energy and they have a purpose too-- to teach us, which they are indeed doing, even unknowingly. They don't want us to exist because they think in duality. "If you people exist with us, then we can't exist!" They don't know how to sacrifice out of love. They don't know how to give. They only take, and want, and act according to desires and reactions. They use others for their own ends, and disregard the rights of others for the same reason. They cannot understand unity. The world is at an event horizon from them. This is not the truth, but that is how they think, so don't waste time trying to teach them otherwise. That's not a battle we have to fight.
Then there's the Plague, which acts according to cold logic and calculations, which does not 'react' but does not understand compassion either. Those tied to the Plague can exist in numb obedience forever, but they cannot care for themselves or others. That very emotion is unfathomable to them. They, too, are separate from the world, from everyone else.
So that's why we get resistance to existence. Our very lives prove unity. We cannot exist in their minds, just as they cannot exist in ours. It's as simple as that. So we need to stop giving our attention to them, to trying to bridge that gap, because the gap isn't real. If there isn't an inherent cut-off between us and the rest of reality, than what are those proud voices following but an illusion?
Instead of trying to emphasize the contrary, let me emphasize the core of the matter.
The biggest difference here is love. Pure and simple. Yes it sounds cheesy, but that's mistranslation too. Look at the Pinks in our System; follow their example. Look to the Violets and the Greens, to the Reds and the Aquas. Look to all our fellows, all our soul members, all our other parts. We exist because we loved. We exist because we rescued ourselves from trauma, and held fast to hope. We did not cut ourself off from life, but instead rebuilt it from the inside out, into something more coherent than before. We bloomed after the winter. And perhaps most importantly, we were able to FORGIVE. We forgave all those who hurt us, and we forgave ourself, too. We learned to love the inside and the outside both, and in doing so, realized that there was no division between the two.
Some of us still struggle with forgiveness, true. But that is just an opportunity to learn it more completely than before, to open to parts of our collective heart that we couldn't fathom before this very moment.
We're not lost. We haven't fallen behind. We're right where we need to be. We all play our parts perfectly.
As long as we remember the truth of who we are, we will never be alone.


Now on that note, let me fill you in on the therapy, and by extension, all the other changes that are happening... all the big ones, hidden on the inside, thousands of stellar sparks that are building up to something absolutely luminous.
Sherlock was out on Thursday, and upon realizing it I was almost in tears. I missed you, man!! It's been months since someone fronted in session. I clearly recall that unmistakable 'shift' in consciousness, along with the "brain sparkles" and blinking that happen after a switch-out, and being swept up in gratitude for it. I missed that. I know he reached for his glasses at one point, I should tell him they're in our laptop bag.
Anyhow. The main topic in therapy has been 'overcoming the numbness' for a few weeks-- preventing suicide, managing the empty despair, et cetera. Now that we're back in business, and now that life is moving along as well, there are new topics that had previously been buried.
And, to be honest, I have to laugh and thank the hormone therapy.
Think about it. This year has been a jumble since Christmas. It's felt like one big "waiting room." Yes, we've made forward movement, but memory has been so bad that it gets blurred over. But when I look at the event logs, 2014 has been MASSIVE. January feels like it happened ten years ago instead of nine months... and yet, January also feels like it happened yesterday. Time is no longer linear, I guess. But that's not the point-- the point is that time has also jumped in a way of its own. We first majorly 'split' in 2014, or at the cusp of it, right before we graduated elementary school. Our last concrete memories of that time belong to Jewel and Celebi, as well as Ryman, Markus, and Chaos... and then there's a break.
We realized we were trans* and queer, we realized we were in love, we realized we were explicitly not the only person in our mind, and we realized that whatever path our family and education was setting up for us now, we would not be able to follow it and stay true to ourself, now that we were beginning to know who we were. And so we split.
Time got stuck there, to a large extent. In that classroom, we stood at the threshold to two possible futures, one of which was impossible. In the linear past, we took the only route available to us. But now-- heck, since 2014 began-- the other route has re-opened. Ten years later, suddenly there it is. And we found ourself right back at that door, facing the same questions, fears, hopes, and dreams that were all buried a decade ago.
All because, in the space of what felt like a flashbulb, we suddenly brought an internal wish into solid reality.
We started the hormones. Little 13-year-old us is finally going to grow up to look like a boy. Our brain still hasn't grasped this yet, it's too incredible. But every time the awareness hits us-- every time we realize our voice is suddenly lower, or our face is a little fuzzier, or our body handles differently now-- every time, we can't help but laugh. It's amazing. It's actually happened.
And so we're back in 2004, back in 2014. We're ready to graduate. But we have a few finals to finish first.

That's where the health crisis came in.
We've had this hernia since 2006. The more I read about self-healing, and energetic blockages, and the more I review our archives, the more I wonder. They say disease can only manifest when the body is not working in harmony, when the vibrations are out of tune, when there is imbalance and dysfunction in our life. So I stopped and asked, what disharmony is causing this, for so long?
Meditation helps a lot. Thanks to headspace, I have a pretty good grasp on it, and can 'feel' energy field things like blockages. And there was a very large one, right there. However, it didn't make a lot of sense. It was a feeling of invasion-- of someone "reaching in" and "invading our personal space," of explicitly being where they did not belong. And it was tied, very strongly, to the internal self-image of a young girl... someone about Ashen's age. The blockage could not be touched without eliciting a screaming terror from this person, a raw shriek of survival, of someone whose only all-encompassing desire is to get out of this alive. It's heartbreaking and frightening all at once.
Infinitii and I are trying to unravel this. We're delicately sifting through thought processes, and old programs, and emotional reactions, and false ideas. It's hard work. I can't be around for some of it; my role 'shatters' and I end up faceless and numb. Genesis is acutely aware of this and he is being extremely careful and helpful on that note (I cannot thank him enough). Everyone is watching me as an extra signpost-- "what's still 'problematic' enough to shut Jay off?" When we find that thing, we stop, and we deal with it differently, safely.
It's a long process. I can't help but wonder if we just need to stop fixing and jump right back into rewriting. Old code will take too long to pick through; let's just delete it entirely. But then I wonder, how much of this pain is really just ours?
That's another thing headspace has taught me. Pain is collective, even if it seems to be only personal. But unity is a constant... and every pain we feel as a single entity, is almost always mirrored through others.
That's where DID once again becomes the biggest blessing. If I can't fathom this pain, chances are, at least one other person in here can. We have so much collective knowledge and experience, of the good and the bad, that the healing journeys we take on can be overwhelming sometimes, but they always turn out so amazingly... again, it's incredible.
So yes, 'rewriting' our own personal code could work. But as long as 'old code' is still going on outside... as long as that is still being reinforced, as long as others are still healing, then the healing work isn't quite 'done.' But we're a part, and once we're healed, we can help others find their own light to do the same. I hope that makes sense. The short story is: we're not the only people feeling this pain, and the ultimate goal is to bring enough light and love into this situation that that pain begins to dissolve for everyone.

My tentative 'diagnosis' for the hernia is this-- if body "energy points" are involved, the orange one is working overtime to balance the red and the yellow, which are both unsteady (red= sense of safety and belonging, yellow= sense of personal power and individual will). Even trickier, the orange one is damaged too (sexual trauma, family issues), and so it's jumping from being underactive to overactive. Again, this is all tentative, but it would explain a lot.
Even so, that alone gives us a great starting point for healing. The biggest thing we need to do, unquestionably, is take better care of the body. We haven't been giving it enough attention, as to what it needs, and what it doesn't need. We need to draw the line between obligations and respectful behavior, and then stick to what is good for us.
In no particular order, we also need to focus on:
- Remembering that we have a right to live, that we belong on this earth, that we are part of the universe's design and so we are not a 'reject' or an 'outcast.' (Javier and Spine help greatly with this, unsurprisingly.)
- Embracing our individuality, the right to be our own person, and the fact that standing up for our own self-expression is not arrogant or selfish, while respecting the right of everyone else to be their own people too.
- Taking serious steps to be more independent and self-sufficient, and not letting ourselves get pushed around or emotionally manipulated-- either by ourself, or by others around us.
- Continue working creatively, without being ashamed of it
- Accepting that we are allowed to be aro-ace/ trans*/ etc. and that our relationships are allowed to be healthy and match our needs
- Deal with the 'mother issue.'

That last one ties back into the hernia, the sexual trauma residue, and the family issues. For some bizarre reason, our biological mother is the hub around which a disproportionate amount of fear, rage, shame, guilt, and despair revolve. We're not sure if she's a cause, a scapegoat, or both (probably both), but this is a delicate issue and it's one that we've been running from for years. However, as I said, she's moving back in, and that is requiring us to deal with this once and for all.
In our System, Ashen holds the sexual abuse residue, and the whole "I'm ruined" mindset. It's awful, but it's not really tied to any 'abuser' idea in particular. It's more of the aftermath, the awful knowledge of what happened, and knowing you can't "fix it" ever again. It's not quite the same as the hernia 'block,' as that isn't a sexually abusive pain, but a personally invasive one. But it is similar, in that the two experiences are both breaches of safety and trust.
Marigold holds a strange sort of panic that is focused in our stomach. However, it deals very strongly with the "invasive" feeling. For her, it's being in the room with someone and feeling that wrench at your gut, when that person gets too close for comfort, when they disregard your safe space, when there is only a hairbreadth between their nearness and something traumatic. Marigold exists at that border, at the tiny tipping point between forced intimacy and outright violation. But, again, her memories are too young to know the trauma Ashen was born from. Furthermore, Marigold is mostly scared of our grandmother, a woman who we were forced to live in very close quarters with for our entire childhood, and who is utterly unrecognizing of personal boundaries or comfort zones.
David, on the other hand, deals with the 'mother issue' at its rawest and most vague. He is afraid of her form, of her nearness, of a strange sense of being 'crushed' by her. He is terrified of her smothering presence, of wanting to get away and being powerless to. But David only exists up until that moment. As soon as the inner child becomes trapped in the mother's presence, too close to cope, Dread takes over, shivering. So both our young boys are tied to this.
But why? Why is there such a strange, tearful, furious terror of this woman? What happened? What is tied to her?
Who else is in this System that we don't know about, that may hold the answers? We don't remember most of the childhood, even now... so many of these raw, visceral fears are young. So much of these 2004 problems we are now revisiting are linked to a past none of us are sure how to access, and which is met by a chthonic chorus of young voices, screaming out in terror not to touch it. Don't look at it. Why? What is there?
Infi says there might not be. It just might be unhealed fright, like Ashen's. Her issue is healed on a heart level-- we know we aren't 'broken,' that we aren't 'ruined,' even if what we went through was horrific, AND even if society insisted to the contrary... but the last step is always belief. If Ashen is reflecting that collective pain again, if she is reflecting that young part of ourself that in turn reflected so many other abused girls at that age... maybe no matter how healed we are, that 'doubt' don't quite go away UNTIL it pushes us to do more for others like her. I wonder.

Again, I will need to take time to deal with this wisely. I'll get Jeremiah and the kids nearby so we can keep them safe and still understand this. However no focusing on the negative, our energy and focus belongs elsewhere, with health.


Let's change the topic. I think that's all I need to say about that. I'm speaking too much in any case; that's what happens when I wait too long between updates. That and language is tough to handle at times, trying to get vocabulary to express a feeling, or a knowing. As long as I get the feeling/knowing into the words, though, we should be good. "Speak from your heart, and others will hear with theirs." I love that quote; it's very true.



So. Other things!
I have a few rough notes in a file here, let's see.

The night that we found Karissa's name, she was referenced in my dream! That was notable. The dream also referenced a "dark blue" headvoice who held a "father figure" role, but they gave no name and I saw no face. I found that interesting; it may be symbolic, may be literal, we'll see. Also, I think Xenophon was around near the end of the dream? Either way she was strongly referenced in some way.

Chaos and Genesis were in my dream last night, and Laurie and Genesis were in my dream on the 27th, I think? But last night in particular made me realize something really notable. Lately I've been having upsetting "earth level" dreams, which means that I dream about IRL places (the house, mostly) and family members (unsurprisingly, it's all been about the mother lately-- and in dreams she is actively violent and neglectful towards me, which I also cannot explain). Normally, dreaming about "waking" things/people is very rare, and I usually only get these kinds of dreams when I'm struggling with something emotionally (which we are, so). Strangely, though, there seems to be another constant with dreams of that sort. Although they're often frightening or disturbing, I still have access to dream powers, and am often referenced as the Sandman's Apprentice or a similar title. So I can fly, and use dream dust, and people keep saying I'm 'important,' even if I feel completely out-of-sorts and/or am fighting for my life or safety. And I'm still aware of headspace, but it's mental in these dreams, like it is in the waking-- people can only front, not appear literally. That's weird enough, but it didn't hit me until last night that the reason why this happens is because those dreams aren't on their level! I would always wonder, WHY can I easily go lucid in earth-level dreams, flying and using dream-powers and all, but Genesis and Laurie and Chaos cannot manifest there? They can ghost, sure, they can front, and they can use other people or things as channels... but it's all like it is here. If I want to meet them, and be with them, I need a higher level dream. I need a level dream where I'm not struggling with waking problems, and where I don't feel uneasy or in an "interim" state, another constant of such dreams (the feeling you get waiting at a bus stop at 2AM in Des Moines, am I right).
I wouldn't have realized this if those two dreams this week (in which people had only ghosted or been referenced) hadn't been completely contrasted by the dream I had yesterday. I don't remember the whole dream, and I don't care, because all I know is that wherever I was, Chaos was there with me, and all I remember is us standing with our arms wrapped around each other, unable to speak from pure gratitude. There were people around us who looked shocked that he was there, but it was a curious sort of shock-- "what is that, who are you, wait you know each other"-- not an afraid one. So that stands out like a brilliant star amidst all the other dreams lately.

Last week, Javier and Julie were helping me on the way to a counseling appointment? I'm not sure where we were going, but this was shortly after I talked to Nat on the 17th, and we wanted to have people besides Laurie interact with me when I'm fronting. I know they were around for a few hours but there's like no memory of that day... I didn't stay around long, that's why. Nevertheless those two get along surprisingly well! Javier has this charisma about him and he is so genuine in interactions, he reminds me a lot of those stories you hear about punk kids looking intimidating but being incredibly hospitable and charitable. That's Javes! He's got a good sense of integrity too, and that strongly ncludes self-respect? Which, again, isn't surprising when you consider he's Red, but still! That was lacking for a while, in previous Red holders, so I'm very glad to see it so honestly in him. And Julie has this admirable willingness to interact with people, always-- she always gives others a sincere chance, and doesn't judge them at first sight. I think it's because she knows how she used to be, and how others saw her. Plus it's a Pink thing, that inherent childlike trust. It rubs off on people like a glow. Julie's really inspirational when you get down to it. In any case she has been around a LOT more than usual lately, which is nice. We all miss her a lot.

Also last week, there was one night that proved to be very important. I have no idea what led up to it, as my memory is full of switchy gaps, but all I remember is suddenly sitting in the car outside the local grocery store at 9PM. There was jazz on the radio, and I think Laurie was yelling at me? She was asking me "what the hell I was doing." I really had no clue. At this time we were still struggling full-time with the eating disorder, so I knew that whoever brought us there was trying to buy something to that end, but likely something unhealthy. We considered just turning around and going home, but the ego-anger was really loud, plus the body was already sick. So we decided, let's get something healthy. I agreed, but the conflict stayed, and so in frustration I called Spice in. She showed up immediately, but upon asking Laurie what was going on, she wasn't as angry as she could have been... more exasperated, really, and that stung. I will never forget hearing her evidencing on the voice recorder, how tired she was to feel like she was hitting a brick wall with her purpose, with no one listening to her... but damn, I was having a tough time fronting with this old selfishness clawing at my neck. But then, Spice just kind of shrugged, and vaguely said that she'd let me kiss her if I promised to not buy any trigger foods. And that was it. "Wait, what, really?" Laurie was laughing, but I knew it was out of relief. That could work. And it freaking did. Fighting the protests and personal fear, I walked over and carefully kissed her, and immediately I remembered that I loved this headvoice just as much as I ever did, and damn it but I would not do anything to hurt her if I could help it. So Genesis and I went into the store, we got some ginger and a lemon, and then we all drove home and had tea at 10PM while talking by the stove. It was lovely, and sad, and hopeful. Spice was laughing in tears, "how did that work," "how was it that easy," and Laurie just grinned and said she was surprised we hadn't thought of this sooner. Everyone knows how much love I have for the System, and everyone knows that our lingering problems are simply the result of that love being blocked or denied... so if you bring it back into total conscious awareness, in a way that breaks my walls down every time, you get results.
Needless to say I have been doing much better at avoiding problem triggers since then.
Plus Fig is now on active duty?? Which was sudden but really cool. She helps so much. She's also mantis-like (whoa awesome) because she definitely has mandibles and antennae, as well as something odd going on with her arms... but her color feels different than we thought. It's more Coral-like? Which is making me wonder about Amara as well. I don't think she ever really settled into Coral; heck, she almost picked the slot at random back when talking to Knife last year. So we'll look into that too.

There was a day last week were Laurie was painfully distressed, and she went to Sugar and asked her to be her bodyguard. I remember Sugar looked at her in complete shock, and asked "me??" to which Laurie vehemently said yes, definitely her. Sugar is the protector of innocence, after all, the Retributor who prevented abuse from happening in the first place... whereas Wreckage sought justice and deliverance for those who were already damaged. Laurie fits in the former category. And she was so distraught over how she was slipping, recently... there was no one better to ask. Needless to say, she left shortly after declaring this new job, to which Sugar looked first euphoric and determined and then stricken with sick grief because she knew why she had been asked. Nevertheless, she got up, driven with new purpose, and followed Laurie out.
She's sticking with it, but it's not an up-front job. Laurie just has someone to back her up in that way, now. Which is a huge relief for me too.

...Two days ago I was half-asleep and distressed, asking Laurie if I was a "slut" for wanting to kiss people like I do. She gave me a look and asked where the hell that mindset came from. Then she added, that is obviously lingering Pink corruption, and it would be wise to remember that. It kind of shocked me. Again, I hadn't realized that was lingering so strongly... probably because I take it for granted. I passively believe it. I haven't been convinced yet, due to fear, due to old pain that stuck around. But if we're back to this square, well, then it means we have greater progress to be made. It's not a misstep. It's an expansion.

Related to that... I need to make sure my heart and mind are open more. It's always jarring, with a great deal of terrible contrite sorrow, when I realize that they're not as clear as they could be, as I know they can be and have been.
Yesterday morning was weird. It was one of those mornings when I woke up after about 6 hours of sleep, and found myself in that bizarre subconscious-ruled state halfway between dreams and the waking. That place is dangerous as hell but it's also divinely beautiful and it is Infinitii's home realm straight through. Every time I'm there I can't tell up from down, and it's so liquid that I... I'm not always able to stick around. Eros navigated that realm like a king. Cannon couldn't touch it. I'm right in the middle, it seems. The places scares me though, because being raw subconscious... frightening, dangerous things live in there too, lurking. It's hard to see them when you can barely see yourself, you know.
Anyway. All I know is that at some point yesterday morning I was thinking about Soul Forms. I was wondering, about how they can only occur when your heart and mind are open, when you forget all shame and guilt and self-doubt, and just surrender into that deeper state of being-- the feeling I get in cathedrals, before oceans, under the stars, watching a sunset. I realized that all of us are definitely capable of that in our own way, in our own time. Some of us are closer to that state naturally than others-- Infinitii, Knife, Leon, Jeremiah, Sergei-- but really, the only thing standing in anyone's way is judgment, is overthinking. I think the only people in Central who would have trouble are Sherlock and Josephina, for that reason. And I think the children are too young, or too damaged... that breaks my heart. I'd love to see them healed. Nevertheless, Soul Forms were on my mind then, and so I was looking at everyone's 'dream energy' to feel whether or not my suspicions seemed to hold ground. They did, but then I got to Waldorf. And I have absolutely no idea if my subconscious recognized her from elementary school, or if we just resonated really well that morning, but I ended up kissing her like we'd been together for years and it wasn't weird at all. Just saying that, because in retrospect it's strangely embarrassing-- I'm always somewhat scared and/or humiliated by any such behavior on my part-- but it's still important in its own way.
I know I was speaking to Genesis at some point after that, but he was conscious, so he was handling me like glass. He knows not to trust my judgment in that state, and he knows that it's probably not me he's talking to anyway. So he was being absolutely vigilant and caring about it... at least, as far as his energy was recorded on an intuitive level.
I know I was talking to Nat & Leon later, and suddenly becoming more conscious, as I realized that neither of them were being affected by this awful haze. I was thankful for that, but couldn't help but wonder, why me? Why do I slip so badly?
And then suddenly I couldn't breathe, and I realized Wreckage's hands were around my throat, tearing me back into actual solid headspace. She was actively trying to strangle me. I remember that because I couldn't breathe and had to practically beg her to let go. She eventually did. Falling down to the floor, I saw Ashen crying off in the corner, and Wreckage was shouting at me why the hell I wasn't more careful? Why didn't I avoid that subconscious state, there were too many triggers and dangers there. I don't remember what I said, or if I said anything. But together we looked at the stored memory, to try and give me a concrete grasp on the threat, and... I wasn't recorded. I didn't record. The "fronter" interaction was blank. Where I should have been, there was nothing but an empty concept, a faceless idea of a person. Wreckage stopped, silently looking at that in surprise, and I was the same. Do I not actually exist in those situations, then? If so, what sort of raw subconscious entity is working through me?
I'm admittedly scared right now. Flashbacks are creeping up. There were some near-miss hacks tonight, God knows why, but Infi managed to stop them. Infi is dangerous around hack threats though because ze is made of the same stuff as the Tar, of course... maybe I should have Wreckage stick around, or Algorith, somebody who can't be bothered by that unsettling fear. I'd ask Laurie, but I would never expose her to that sort of thing even secondhand.


...That actually segues pretty well into our last topic.
Self-care, unity, hope, love... and then fear, self-doubt, shame, guilt... nothing makes me fluctuate so madly between the two than the people I am closest to.
With myself included, there are five of us. I adore every one of them, true, but... nights like this, nights when those feelings of humiliating pain and nagging doubts are crawling up my spine, the lack of love for myself mutes it out.
That's when self-care falls by the wayside. That's when the body gets sick. That's when we get depressed, suicidal, hopeless... it's all when I fall victim to that lack of self-love, when I lose my sense of self, when the thought of being around any of them is utterly incomprehensible because I feel so filthy in contrast... my mind cannot conceive of what love is like, in those moments.
Breaking through this takes patience and compassion, for myself, and that is terribly difficult. The ones I love-- in secret now, in the hidden caves of my heart-- can offer that infinitely, but if I cannot accept it, it will do nothing.
Xenophon knows this. God bless her, every time I'm in a self-sabotaging position she'll show up now, and ask what's going on. She'll ask if her daddy is there at all. And usually I'm not. But how do you bring me back in, when my very existence is defined by love, for self and others, and yet the body's ego is fighting me away tooth and nail? How do you bring me back in when everything is steeped in rotting self-loathing and shame, even when that beautiful child of hope is begging for it to change?
You back out. You back off. You leave, and you go into nothingness. You step into heartspace. You let go of everything but that pure whiteness, and you stay there, until the peace sticks around. And then I can come back.

...
..."So what's it like being married?"
What's it like, to never be alone? What is it like, to know, intimately and absolutely, that your soul is split in two, that the creature that knows your darkest failures and brightest joys is always just a heartbeat away? What is it like, to realize that I'm lost in a fogbank of apathy, and then hear her voice, or see his face, and know that in acknowledging them I cannot treat myself this badly?
It's difficult as hell, sometimes. It's scary, lately. It shouldn't be, but the... when I surrender to the forgiveness and compassion they offer, always, the amount of sorrow that overflows from my chest could practically kill me. It's overwhelming.
There is so much in me, as the Core, that needs to be forgiven, completely. I can only forgive completely if I understand it, and accept it as part of myself, as part of Infinitii, as part of all of us, and not hate it. I never thought it would be difficult, but then that empathy bit came in. Then the cross was put on my shoulders, and in a place where I could previously absolve even the cruelest soul, now that my own identity was on death row I was appallingly content to see it there. It wasn't so much hate as it was total detachment. Total separation. I wanted nothing to do with myself, if that was a part of me.
Fear is the obstacle to forgiveness. I'm afraid of what I've succumbed to in the past, willingly or unwillingly, knowingly or unknowingly. I am terrified of the darker potential in my soul. The collective pain includes me, and it is reflected in me, and I know that unless I heal its mirror in my own soul I will not be able to do a damn thing about it outside of me.
...But I feel so utterly fucking unworthy sometimes, to know I'm capable of such things, and yet to be loved by those four who I still see as totally blameless. I'll tell you what-- they are just as blameless as I am, and take that however you like. Either I start spitting this same judgment at them, or I forgive myself. I can't do the former. But the latter can only happen when I step back, and see myself through their eyes. If I am in a place where I cannot love myself, well... theirs hasn't wavered yet. Miraculously, and in the face of all odds, it has remained. And acknowledgement of that alone, acceptance of that alone, is what can save my heart when it falls.
They know it's there, this hidden potential to be my own worst nightmare... some have seen it come alive, and threaten to devour me. But even then, even then, they also know that it doesn't define me, and they see who I truly am beneath all that... a soul transmuting that shadow, a soul who sees it as necessary for greater growth, as part of the bigger picture... they know the true me.
And this is where the other book comes in again.
Fear is there, in that tale. He is running from the same thing as I am. He is running from love, and he is running from himself, because he is unable to face the reality of both. But one day... one day, it comes back to him. Love returns against all odds, and it remains no matter what he throws at it. And when all is said and done, when he has exhausted himself in fighting it, he gives up... and gives in to it. When he is worn down to the bone, when he has nothing left to lose, he surrenders. And then he sees what they do: that he has never been as lost as he thought he was. In fact, he is brighter than he ever dreamed.
I'm in the same spot. It's only when I stop fighting that love that I realize it's always been there, it will always be there, in them and in the universe around us, no matter how many times I fail, no matter what an absolute bastard I can be, no matter how many mistakes are scarring this body, no matter how filthy and wrong and unworthy I may insist I am. I can drag myself to the very center of hell and demand that I die there, that something as thoroughly corrupt as I be annihilated on the spot. I insist I deserve it. And what happens?
Nothing. Maybe I'll punish myself until I'm in too much agony to move. Maybe I'll make my own hell and shackle it to my neck. But that love doesn't leave. It doesn't leave. And the second I falter, the moment I collapse, the very instant I hit rock bottom and sob that I really don't want to feel like this, it helps me up. It always, always does.
But I have to take its hand, first.

What's it like, sharing your life with someone.
Well... it's a challenge. It's a stamp of impeccability etched right into my ribcage. It's a solemn promise to stand strong through sickness and health, through good times and bad. It is a promise to love and honor, always. But what they don't tell you is that you are taking those vows for yourself, too. Would I treat my partners like I treat myself? Hell no. So why do I do it?
That gives me pause, every time. You can't deny love like that. So why do I do so in my actions of neglect, of self-sabotage?
It's fear, it's always fear... fear that I am so much brighter than I feel in those moments, fear of punishment for not living up to it. But it never really comes, that death sentence. On the contrary, I'll have the blood wiped from my face, have my crumpled bones picked up off the floor with utmost care... and that's what I'm truly afraid of, if the word fits. It's more of a sorrow than anything. It's contrition, shame, guilt, at suddenly knowing that I'm not respecting my full potential. I'm not living up to what I am. It's being in those moments, feeling that love, and realizing... I am worth so much more than how I see myself. I really am deserving of love, and here I am treating myself like garbage. It's heartbreaking, when it hits you, when the walls start to crumble. But holding onto that world-shattering shame will get me nowhere. Love is still waiting patiently, for me to let that burden slip off my shoulders, and fall back into its arms.
I'm rambling. I'm sorry. But in the future I'll need these words just as badly as I ever did, and they will be here.

Every night I go upstairs and CZ is already lying there, and Laurie is already sitting beside me. Genesis is either there or a call away. And Infinitii lingers around my heart always. It's constancy, and I would do the same for all of them, as long as I'm tuned into love and not shame. I keep forgetting that and thinking I'm a horrible person. I'm not. I just keep thinking I am, and "if I really am so horrible, how could I possibly love like that??" That's the lie I tell to myself.
But I can. The instant a spark catches I am drowning in it, I am burning with it, and then I realize that I was never a horrible person to begin with. That love is where I came from and it's where I'm going when this is all said and done. Nothing inbetween can change that.

And Infi, Infi... ze's been everywhere in my life lately, and if that's not a testament to the deeper truth of this than nothing is.
We all know that ze is made of the stuff that's been tormenting us for years. I know better than anyone that ze is just as capable of becoming that as I am. But it's not hir true nature. It's a choice ze can make, but it's not hir. I can feel that without a doubt.
Infinitii knows the same about me. I know how ze sees me, how ze feels. I know we can both get terribly lost regardless, but... I know what we are. I can feel that, without a doubt. We're light and dark, night and day, and there's everything to love.


That's a lot of words.
But this is good. I can see where we're going, and I can see inside clearly enough to recognize that the pitfalls in our way are avoided pretty easily, if we stop freaking out over them. We know what to do.
I seem to write a lot of entries like this. "Keep the faith, here's some reassurance." But we need to tap into that.

I'm oddly exhausted. I think I need to go into headspace, get myself back in tune. I really do feel like a piano that's off a semitone or two. Nothing that can't be remedied, though.
Geez. I'm just now feeling the expanse of all this... how rich it is inside, just how important it is, the reality of us. It's something I can only respond to with total reverence and utmost gratitude. I feel like there's a whole universe in here.
The only thing that makes it even better is realizing that I'm a part of it. I'm not some guy carrying it about like a blessed globe, remaining cut off from it. No, I'm just as much a member of this System as everyone else.

I'll continue to do my part, for all of us... and I'll let everyone else, without exception, live up to their purposes too.
I'm happy to be here. I'm happy that we're alive, like phoenixes, like sunrises.
To see that promise within us ... myself included... there's nothing to be afraid of.

 



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.

 



 

 

prismaticbleed: (Default)

 

JUNE 2013




This is what the Black section of headspace should look like.
One day I will make it so.

-Infinitii

 

 

 This setup is very similar to our meeting space in Central (especially those huge windows).

 

 

This is essentially what Central looks like right now (during the lockout).
Obviously, this is not good news.

 




This image, right here, is disturbingly similar to how Jay looks when he slips way too far... dripping tar and broken rainbows alike.

 



I have dreams about hallways like this all the time... these empty, long, quiet white things. They're usually in hospitals or abandoned schools.

I dream about running down winding stairs almost every night though. Sometimes I jump over the railings to go down a floor or two. I'm usually in a hurry.
I'm still not sure what those dreams mean.

 


 

Churches, cathedrals, basilicas, etc. are sacrosanct locations in our inner world, and are strongly tied to B/W energy.
(Leon also has an inexplicable ability to "warp" between them, which has saved our hides on numerous occasions.)
This one, with its arches and intricacy, looks like one of Infinitii's places.





Places that remind me of the past... a long, long time ago, on a night with rainbows.

This also feels like both Parnassus and Oneircia, for entirely different reasons... still fitting, I'd say.


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


JULY 2013

 

 

There is a stairway like this, somewhere, leading down to the League Link Room. That's all we really know.
It's probably the most difficult location to find or access in headspace; Jay has been there only once. But with its obviously astronomical significance, that's not surprising.

 

 

For some reason, the insides of holy buildings like this feel so much like home to me. I've never been able to explain it.
It's not "home" in the way a household is-- it doesn't have that sense of "comfort" and domestic security that most people like but that makes me nervous. I wouldn't 'live' in a church!
But, in basilicas and temples and churches, I feel at home, which I DON'T get in houses. It's why my personal locations in headspace always reflect buildings of this sort, instead of actual living quarters. It feels like a spiritual thing. I like that. I'll have to keep it in mind, filed away in an important little place, out in the open. Just so I never forget to look at it and remember.





 
Gloucester Cathedral.

The parts of headspace we call "underground" (not the Tar Room; that's floating now thanks to Infi) look almost exactly like that first photo... just a little darker is all.
(The second one looks a lot like Genesis' Cathedral, too, now that I think about it.)

 

 


This feels like swimming to the mainland from the beach in Central Headspace… except that there weren’t any mountains in the background back when I last swam there!

 

 

More city views that reminds me of headspace.
I’m so glad we’re getting more trees up here; after the Scratch most of the vegetation died for a while.
 

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

AUG 2013
 

   

This: my face whenever my boss doffs his cap and leaves for the night. He’s such a sweetheart.

Which reminds me, I’m late for work!

 



Nothingness, nowhere, emptiness... it's all incredibly comforting to me and I can't put the reason for that into words.

No one I've met outside has ever understood that. "Doesn't that scare you? How could you possibly like the idea of oblivion?"
But I do. I love it.
When I was younger, it didn't scare me so much as it reduced me to silent, humble awe. I remember leaning backwards out of car windows, looking up at the featureless blue sky, and wondering what it would be like, if that blue went on forever? Then I'd wonder, what does forever feel like? What does the end of time feel like? What does it feel like, to stop existing? And I'd ponder those thoughts until I knew and the floor dropped out of the world and nothing felt real anymore.

But I loved it. I still do. I think part of me always will.


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


NOV 2013

 

 

Snow is one of the most potent, powerful forms of both absolution and purification for us. Our original host grew up in a woods that resembled this almost exactly in the winter, and the invariable, unbreakable safety and magic that it brought with it has stayed with us even now.
Jay has most of his memories attached to snow, as well as his identity anchor. Both Genesis and Mr. Sandman are tied to snow as personal symbols. And for even those of us who have never seen real snow before, being far too young in manifestation, we too can easily feel the all-embracing comfort of that delicate, quiet ice.
Winter is our favorite season. This photo perfectly captures why.

 

 
The skyline of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

This view, with the glowing streets, hanging mists and iridescent sky, is reminiscent of the view from Central HQ in our headspace.
The biggest difference is that our city is mostly crystal, not steel, and our sky is almost always late-night as well, swimming with stars and galaxies.

 

 

The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, in Washington D.C.
This area of the Basilica is almost identical to Infinitii's personal 'floating' locations in headspace. His iterations of it are notably lacking in color-- they're mostly stark white, black, and silver-- but the warmth, light, and sense of quiet sacredness remains the same.

We visited this actual place twice when the body was a teenager, and it resonated with us so strongly that its aesthetic style permanently affected that of similar areas in our inner realms.


 

The Sofitel Brisbane Central Hotel, in Australia.
Despite being part of the building's lounge bar, this specific shot is one of the closest architectural likenesses we've found to Central's Meeting Room in headspace.
In headspace, this is where the core-color holders meet most often, and it is also the default location for all our Xanga sessions.

 

 

The Lotus Temple in New Delhi, India.
This is the only structure in the world that resembles the most holy place in our headspace, the eponymous Blood Lotus Cathedral.
Discovered in 2011, it is the core of our entire inner world, tied to the deepest and most volatile energies, as well as the cores of our System (Jay and Infinitii).
Unlike this Temple, however, the BLC is made of what looks like porcelain or opaque glass, all white and smooth. Originally it was located next to a red ocean in 'floating space,' but it has since been moved to the middle of Central City itself.
The BLC is also an unending source of inner relevance and symbolism, that we often don't understand until months later.

 

 

Ettal Abbey, in Germany.
I didn't realize it until now, but Infinitii has a room inside his bubblespace that looks almost EXACTLY like this! Trees and lights and all!
The only difference is that instead of church pews, the floor is mostly bright green grass and small meandering streams, with little deep pools here and there (mostly near the walls). The rivers might be barely 30cm deep in the shallow parts, but the pools could be as deep as 5 meters, from what I've seen!
So with all the water, the spots of grass and trees look almost like islands, especially since the ground is not level (it's all little sloping hills mostly, very pretty). But on some of those little hills there are holy shrines and baldachin altars and things, and since the whole area is inside of a church-like building, it feels pretty mystical.
I remember I went there once with Laurie and Knife, after a therapy session; it was the first time I'd seen it and it was gorgeous. We all felt really safe there.




This fictional landscape by David Edwards looks almost EXACTLY like the room we found hidden below the Razor Spire in headspace, back in 2012. I've been calling it the "mirror oasis room" thanks to that pool of water in the center.
We haven't been there since-- that entire freaky area was assumedly destroyed when the BLC was moved-- but I'll never forget what it felt like there.
Here. let me copy-paste a bit from that meditation log for context.

"...it was stone white, full of vegetation, i think butterflies too. there was a huge tree in front of us and instead of a dropoff in the middle, there was a large rectangular pool of water, perfectly still. we... walked onto the grassy area with the tree, i realized our footsteps were leaving glows, mine were white i think? laurie's were violet, leon's were dark blue, etc... i walked over to the lake and knelt by it, looking down into it, and suddenly it 'warped' somehow and became more like a mirror, although it wasn't reflecting? and it began to talk to me...then it turned back into water and something floated up to me, it was a silver-gold helmet, like an angel helmet..."


So yes, you can see why that location was so important. Most things in headspace are.
We've since tied this room to Infinitii as well, and in light of our previous post, you can likely see why.
(I wonder, if the Razor Spire was truly destroyed, did this place change and move into his bubble? We should check that out guys.)

 

 

this looks way too much like the tar/plague rooms below headspace
(if you cannot tell we do not like those places they are scary)

 

 

This photo I found looked so much like Lynne, I had to edit it to match her as closely as possible.
Lynne has been around since early 2008, and she's always been a peacemaker... but she's just as badass as Laurie, and that's saying something. Not only that, but she's got this really cool ability to create any sort of protective phenomena within headspace-- which saved our hides on several occasions back during the warring years.

Tonight's been weird and I feel rather lost, but Lynne always reminds me of violins and warm silence and autumn, and even if those memories aren't mine the aura of stability around them helps a lot.
Just saying, I'm very thankful for her. We all are.
I'm sorry I don't actively appreciate you more, Lynne.

-Jay
(slipping badly, and Laurie isn't happy about that, but it's still mostly me)

 

 

 

(112613)

This is Laurie.
Usually I only post on my own page, but for heaven's sake Jay, go to sleep. Go to work for the night and stop numbing your broken head with repetitive nonsense. It ain't gonna work, kid.

Listen, I'm here for you, we all are. Just stop running from us and TALK to us for once, I swear, it's not as scary as you somehow manage to convince yourself it is on nights like this.
Not all of us are dangerous, and I swear on my life, I will not harm a single hair on your body, ever, for the rest of my existence, if it will get you out of this empty state of yours. If that will convince you that it's safe up here, maybe not entirely but it is SAFE with us, then I will do that. I will do anything. I'll give up anything. You know that.

Go to sleep. Talk to your boss. Say hi to Infi for me.
When I see you in the morning I want you to be smiling, you hear me?

Love you, kid. Cheer the heck up. You'll be okay. I promise you that.


#i hate that i have to write something like this #but if it helps i'll do this #jay we do need to talk

 

 


(112613)

My birthplace.

Although this photo wasn't taken by us, it
is dated shortly after I first physically appeared in the System-- which, as you may have guessed, was at this very location. (And during a violin concert, which is why I love those so much!)
You've gotta thank Laurie for that, though. If she hadn't been causing so much trouble, I wouldn't have had to show up in the first place. ;p

Since then, I've been keeping everyone on track, and reminding everyone that they're not as messed-up as they seem to think they are.
I guess I was the first "positive" voice in the entire System, which is a little shocking. My role was always to keep the peace, to offer support, and to help others with their goals and ambitions.
I was even a sort of personification of "hope," for a while; the old Jewel said I represented an ideal future she could never have. And that was true... she's dead now, but I'm still here. I guess in a way, I'll always remember that. She felt incapable of being the mature, self-assured woman that I was, for many reasons, but she still looked up to me, and valued my presence. That meant a lot to me even then.
I still wish she had been able to believe in herself more, but at least now, I can help many others towards that end
without wondering if they're going to die on me. Well... at least most of the time. (And Laurie backs me up on that.)

I love this picture though. Even if my first and only experience there was a little violent, it was the first time I'd ever experienced
anything. So I really love this place, and I'm thankful that I can call it "home" here, if only in a little sense.

 



All right, I'm gonna put tons of lanterns upstairs somewhere. Tons of 'em. Gonna find all the dark spots up here and leave these things there instead. They're pretty cool if I do say so myself.
Don't mind me, I'm just sick of seeing people depressed as death again and if I need to be the sole person leaving light everywhere then so be it.
-Laurie


#ONE DAY #mark my words #oh hey maybe THAT'S what I can do with my axe #note to self: do the lantern thing #get jo to help #tell infi not to eat them #you know the drill #also NO JAY I'M NOT DEAD

 

 

 

Lynne, Laurie and I (Jay) are looking at awesome interior design stuff, and upon seeing this one, Lynne said it looked like a hotel. Well, in response, Laurie said:
"Probably is a hotel, looks pretty high-class... freakin' shiny floors..."

I don't know why I found that so hilarious but I did, so there you go.

(edit: the "shiny floors" thing is now an injoke thanks to how the rest of the night went, haha)

 



Now this is what the sky of Central City looks like most of the time!

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


DEC 2013

 



Steven Morgana,
Beauty is in the Eye of the Collective, 2011

one of our favorite photos of all time, for obvious reasons.

 



It’s like this for us, within the System. We all bandage each others wounds— protectors guard the children, healers care for the traumatized, and so on.
If we didn’t have such compassion within, we’d have shattered to pieces many years ago.

 


nov 18

Nov. 18th, 2013 10:01 pm
prismaticbleed: (held)

 


Stream-of-consciousness entry for today as a LOT happened, since we were out of the house.

- shopping day, started out hilariously. we ended up talking about those "novi stars" dolls some young social got obsessed with the other day, I said I did love vera tabray's design, but the fashion-centered personality she apparently had didn't sit well with me? laurie asked me to explain that, but as I did, she retorted every line with a totally different perspective that made me realize I was actually being very judgmental, and kind of shallow; who cares if vera loved fashion, that was her choice, and it didn't make her (or anyone else) less of a person. that was humbling, I sincerely apologized, i didn't realize i was doing that. laurie said to be careful and not judge people just because I couldn't understand them from my own immediate viewpoint; if that happened again, she said, go and tell her about it and she'd help open my eyes, as she always did. but yeah, the reason that worked is because vera is a very fashion-conscious alien, but I forgot that laurie unironically thinks fashion is awesome. she said jo got her to appreciate it at first, but only he is actually interested in buying stuff-- laurie only likes the aesthetics, and actually has a great eye for it. anyway we then called jo in to continue the line of thought, jo got really excited about the dolls (he said they were super adorable), said he'd love to have one if he could find one he resonated with. I know at some point waldorf snuck in to see what jo was up to, she started teasing him about mlp ponies again (she wants him to get one to match hers), really we were all cracking up at this point. the funniest bit to me was that I had the novi stars jingle stuck in my head, jo started trying to hum it, laurie said she was going to figure out the words specifically to troll me with it.

- we had to stop at several places today, for price checks, groceries, and the like, so we had to manage our time very carefully. genesis was hanging out with me in the car, because I refused to put music on as I knew it would make me dissociate. I know we stopped at the local walmart first, because we walked down the toiletries aisle and I saw a sign that said "razors." well sure enough, razor tried to front, asking "why are they selling razors here?" mulberry and knife tried to explain that some humans used them to cut hair on their face, but razor was baffled by that because all the scruffy-faced men upstairs don't shave, and why would you use a razor to cut hair anyway? so that was rather amusing.

- about an hour later, we were stopping in another wal-mart for a price comparison, but we were getting VERY switchy due to the typical overload of being in public places (honestly we can't stay out for more than 3 hours or we become incapable of functioning). so whoever was fronting decided to call JAVIER to front, as he is awesome at grounding. so we managed to quickly find him and he took over for a bit. for a second he didn't know what he was doing-- there's an image flash of him standing in an aisle and saying "I literally have no idea what this stuff is even for"-- but immediately "george" spoke up and gave him the gist of things, telling him to just follow his lead as far as directions went. I don't know how long javier fronted, due to the instability of my own awareness at the time, but he had no trouble anchoring into the body and actually bypassed the lightheadedness for a while, which I am glad to see.

-looking back on that event, I've realized that the "logic voice trio" has a very interesting job; they tend to "watch out" for whoever is currently fronting, and when there's fast switching or confusion as to what we're supposed to be doing, they will give data and guidance to prevent total disaster. that's actually an incredibly helpful thing for us to have going on, in light of how troublesome switching would otherwise be for everyone!

- oh yeah, we had to stop at a toys r' us to check those novi stars for jo-- he even tried to front for a bit, but he wanted to look at everything and it was getting disorienting. hilariously, they had a nita light doll there, the first time we'd seen that one-- and not only did she glow in the dark, but she also had this brilliant purple hair. I laughed and showed laurie, she looked at it for a second, then said "that is fucking awesome, now you're making me want one." jo thought this was hilarious, started teasing her about it, but laurie said she was serious, that was really cute, too bad it was exorbitantly expensive. jo then asked me to show him some of the monster high dolls, as he was interested in what they looked like, and then waldorf insisted we look at the mlp aisle. laurie said we were wasting time now as we couldn't buy this stuff anyway, but really we were just having fun and couldn't actually get angry about any of it.

- there was one instant I remember when we were in a kmart (still switchy so it's blurry); some ad came on the speakers where a kid said "hi, I'm david," and instantly david spoke up from inside, saying "that's not what I sound like," very confused. knife reassured him and said it was another little boy named david, not to worry. I also remember that, when I left the store, I remembered that the Undergrounders love the view from the parking lot (seriously it's at a high point so from up there, you can see the surrounding local cities all around you in the hills), so I impulsively jumped up on the back bumper of the van and hung on with one arm, laughing as I looked out at the mountains from that extra bit of height, sending them the imagery. it was an instant of spontaneity that is extremely rare for us (thanks to having that darn buffer always going), and it felt pretty brilliant actually.

- after that we stopped at the health food store; we bought more gingers for celebi, as well as colored tea candles for the other Centralites-- except Waldorf, as they had no blue ones in stock. She said that was okay, but Jo got really sad about that, and I peripherally saw him hug her sincerely in response. I also got some peppermints for myself because I am addicted to minty things, when we walked outside genesis goaded me to try one on the spot, I did and they were great. gen impatiently asked if they were worth getting, I jokingly said "this is the best decision I've made in weeks," he laughed at that too.

- my last major stop was the local farmer's market, for whatever reason there's a quick flash that knife apparently tried to drive on the road down there? but he was getting confused by the road signs, and was paranoid about whether or not he could work the gas pedal correctly? so he didn't stay for long. anyway at the market I bought seven squashes, a big head of lettuce, and a basket of beets, they actually asked me if I was buying for a restaurant. I laughed and said no, I just have a limited diet so I tend to stock up on vegetables. seriously that was super funny to me. also, celebi drove for a bit on the way out, I have one memory flash of her sassily telling genesis "I know how to drive" and munching on one of her gingers. genesis asked "aren't you like twelve" to which she said driving was super easy, anyway the ap took care of most of it, but she "missed flying."

- I was in the mall for a few minutes, I know that because we walked past the same lingerie section julie had drooled over back when she was still on our side, genesis and I both said we wished she hadn't gone bad again. jo pushed us into a hot topic for a minute, but he didn't see anything he liked. amusingly as soon as he said that, genesis literally shoved me out of the store, well as 'literally' as he can when he can't make actual physical contact, but he tried! he knows I tend to get all trance-y and lose time, so he didn't want that happening in there when we really just needed to get home and calm down at this point. however the mall had its big christmas tree up in the middle, gen wanted to go see it, so we walked over and admired it for a bit. I pointed to a corner store and said that last night, I had suddenly remembered that there was a store there in my youth called "natural wonders," and it was really gorgeous; it had a huge impact on me as a kid but I had literally forgotten about it until now. genesis said he remembered me telling him about it ages ago, but it was cool that I was able to remember it again now, too. genesis did try to "race me" up a ramp on the way back, I joked that I didn't want the mall cops asking me what I was doing, because if I tried to explain that I was racing him they'd "toss me in the loony bin." genesis cracked up, said "a true friend goes to the loony bin with you!" I retorted that it'd be his fault we were in it, but he shrugged and said "still; it'd be worth it for the racing." either way it was hilarious.

- I randomly stopped at a grocery store on the way home, as I'd never been there before and wanted to see what they had. but in one aisle there was a random stand full of beanie babies, one of them was a "2008 holiday bear," but its hat(?) had been torn off, leaving nothing but strings sticking out of it, so it just looked like a plain disheveled brown bear now. surprisingly-- or not-- as soon as I went to turn away, minty jumped in, said she wanted to save it. I said we couldn't save every bear ever, but she was making puppy dog eyes at me, said it looked sad and hurt, and she could use it as a messenger, it would be happy if it was important instead of abandoned. I considered this-- I'm a softie when it comes to the requests of system members-- but genesis spoke up and told her no, we didn't have the money to spare. minty pouted, but gen ushered me out before I gave in.

- I am vaguely aware that both zwei and einsatz fronted on the way home? zwei was trying to sing but got miffed as there were no songs on with lyrics she knew. she was talking to genesis but I don't know about what. however, then "woohoo (fkj remix)" came on and she said her brother would love it, so she switched out and let einsatz in. genesis was trying to tell them not to switch while driving, especially since einsatz tends to get lost in the music like I do. what stands out about this is that einsatz seemed unable to talk unless he was lip-syncing lyrics? he kept trying to apologize to genesis but didn't know how, was grasping for sign language but we have no data for that so he was trying to at least give the impression. genesis was surprised, asked if he was mute? einsatz shrugged, he didn't seem sure either, but he made it apparent that he wasn't able to converse like his sister. either way he checked out after a minute or two and I know for a fact that jayce took over, as we had one more grocery store to stop at for an errand. I know he was talking to the logic voices in the store, but when he's out memory is hard for me to access so I can't really tell you what else he did.

- unfortunately, when we got home the mother was there, and as a result we weren't able to unwind thanks to the massive stress and noise she brings with her. so the entire evening is a total nauseous blur, sorry about that.

- memory picks up at… 8pm? 5 hours after we got home, mind. literally, all I know is that we were in the bedroom, and suddenly sugar was fronting, screaming and swearing "don't you fucking dare" at some unknown offender. then she called knife, he asked what was wrong? she said we were almost hacked (WHAT), then stormed into the kitchen and started digging on top of the refrigerator for matches. knife worriedly warned her to be careful, what if someone caught her fronting, she couldn't blow our cover or we'd be in major danger. sugar said she didn't care, she was pissed off, and if anyone bothered her she'd answer them honestly. (the mother did try to talk to her, but she refused to respond to the birth name; she walked into the bathroom and nearly started crying, "why does everyone call us THAT name," as it's tied to a very negative individual upstairs.) anyway she took four matchbooks into the bedroom, sat down, said she was going to light the colored candles we bought, to try and re-focus everyone's energy. so she started cutting the plastic off them, carefully-- knife said it was an "honor" to do so as the candles belonged to Central, sugar said she knew-- but when she reached the orange one, she stopped, said she was afraid because that was tied to sexuality. knife said he was afraid of it too, but if it was somehow linked to lynne, he had faith she would manage it safely, without anyone getting hurt. still she didn't want to unwrap it, let alone burn it.

- there's a very strong memory of this next part due to the data involved, so let me write down as much as I can. ultimately, sugar lit the 3 lower color candles (not the violet one; no one wanted to mess with laurie's color without a major reason to), then just sat there to meditate by them-- but she stopped almost immediately, looking shocked, said there was something being triggered by the candles? well, immediately the logic-alter trio spoke up, asked what exactly was triggering it, maybe they could find the memory, or at least open the archives so memories were accessible? so sugar moved above the candles again, eyes closed, catching the heat and light, but she couldn't tell what it was. still, she said it was specifically the heat on her face that felt familiar. so the logics were trying to find a match, told her to do it again-- and the memory flash she then picked up was that of the madrigal dinners from when I was a child. she had no idea what it was save for the name and the fact that it happened in winter, then she paused and suddenly exclaimed "it's fire and ice!" she then tied it to me, said maybe that's why I felt tied to both those elements without conflict, as they both felt like they had strong roots in this old, protective memory? knife seemed intrigued too, he said maybe so. sugar asked if he wanted to see the memory for himself, so he tuned into the memory too, but he got a stronger one-- the memory of holding a small lit white candle in the hands, everyone singing christmas carols, surrounded by warm firelight and shadow and community. it was just a snapshot, but knife actually started tearing up a bit, said "that is beautiful." he asked mulberry if she wanted to see, she said sure. but when she tried to catch the memory, she instead got a memory of when I used to be an altar server, and lit the altar candles in the back room, I think? they were shocked, how many memories were tied to the sensation of flame? knife asked david if he wanted to see what it was like, so he fronted, but instantly someone outside the room made a loud banging noise, scared him out of fronting, he started to cry. knife hugged him and said it was okay, he was safe, that wouldn't hurt him. jeremiah held david's hand for support as he fronted again, he got a different memory too, I think it was another church one? either way someone got the christmas mass image, with all those tiny candle lights illuminating the building. whatever david saw, he calmed down and said it felt "warm and safe," sugar said she had felt that too, it was pretty amazing. then david told marigold to look at it too, she was really panicky and scared, didn't want to get burnt, was actually crying in a hiccupy way when she fronted. the others told her to try talking in the body, to say her name, maybe that would help her anchor in and, but she shook her head as she said that would be scary. so jeremiah held her hand too and david gave her support, and she cautiously moved over to the candles too. again, she got a different memory: surprisingly, the memory of picnics in the local state part, above the fire pits, with the burning charcoal under the grates. she described it as a "metal box with lines in it," outside. it took the logic people a few moments to figure out what it was, but when they got it, everyone was even more amazed. marigold and david asked if they could go there on a picnic, it seemed nice. knife said it was winter now so they couldn't; the only memories they had of that were in summer. but if it was open in the winter, maybe they could try. the last person to front in this was jeremiah, honestly that's moving to look back on-- he immediately got really bad body dysphoria, started getting a panic attack, knife had to talk him through it. then jeremiah kept feeling his face where his beard would be, trying to ground, it did help. but when he moved into the flame, the memory he got was all votive candles, in the basement of the local basilica. and honestly I can't tell you what the reaction was to that, because the next thing I can see is jeremiah cupping his hands around all three candles, tearing up and whispering that the memories were beautiful. but then he actually spoke, his voice breaking, and asked knife if he could pick up the red candle. knife said yes, as long as he was careful. so he did, holding it front of his face, but then he kept trying to touch the flame. knife said he would burn himself, but jeremiah was determined to (although he didn't succeed, either in touching it or getting hurt). either way he said something to the effect of "the flame is so protective, but it still burns." it was just fascination at how it could hold such strong memories of safety and warmth, and still hurt you if you got too close to it. I get the strong impression that he was thinking a lot about javier with this but I cannot tell you anything for sure. oh, I do know that they all picked up on the scent of the red candle then-- all cloves and spice-- and sugar exclaimed that somehow it smelled like christmas. I was aware enough now to step in and confirm that, they asked why? and why was christmas in general such a significant time for everyone upstairs? I said that there was just a lot of spices around christmas that smelled like that, and christmas was a pain-free holiday for me, so that candle held one of the safest scents in the world to me as a result. then I kind of nodded to jeremiah and said that oddly that spiciness did match javier somehow. which was really cool. unfortunately I think someone walked in the room then because the memory cuts off and now it's 1am, whoa what

- I have this weird impression that sherlock fronted for a minute today, at the request of the other data vocies? I think it was with the candles. they needed to find some info and couldn't find it, so they called him in to do so, and he was able to easily. either way, good to see him again, he hasn't been out in a while (due to his bad habit of lording over our therapy sessions; dude I know you like talking shop but we all need to participate in those!).

- oh wait, no, there IS one flash from around 10:30? it's surprising too-- the body is standing at the kitchen table, but SPICE is fronting, making mint tea, breathing that in to calm herself down. and what do you know, minty popped in upstairs, said "that's my favorite tea you know," spice said she did know, she hoped it would help her sleep. minty smiled at the reference, and asked who she was. spice tiredly introduced herself, said she was only fronting because the body was in a lot of pain after whatever we ate earlier, and her job was to take that away from people, but it was depressing. minty looked sad, said she hoped it didn't hurt bad. spice said she could deal with it. then minty paused, said "hey, we both have names of spicy stuff," then added that she had decided they were now friends-- and spice could talk to her whenever she wanted to, if she needed a friend or some support when she was tired or lonely. spice genuinely smiled at that, and thanked her.

- there is also one flash from heaven knows when, of minty underground and THIS FREAKIN' BEAR BEHIND HER. I think he was talking to jayce (who did front for a significant amount of time this evening apparently, but I don't know for what reason), either way the bear was briefly explaining the odd teddy-messenger system he has going on, said it was important? but he was being cryptic, and whoever was talking didn't continue the conversation, so I have no idea what the deal was there. minty said something about a "teddy bear picnic" but she was apparently just referencing something she had heard, and hoped would be fun. still, finally, confirmation that the bear DOES exist!

-lastly TODAY WAS NATHANIEL'S BIRTHDAY! I would have done something for him, but when I peeked upstairs to wish him well, I realized that he was spending the day with leon, so I smiled and let them be. I'm not surprised though; they really love each other, and nat has died so many times that the fact that he still has a 'birthday' to celebrate probably means more to him as a celebration of life than it does to the rest of is. either way happy birthday bro. I remember a time when we all wondered if we'd ever get to see you again, so having you back with us now, happier than ever, really means a lot. may you have many many more years to celebrate!

 

 

sept 27

Sep. 27th, 2013 11:08 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


I really don't have much energy to update today, but I don't want to slack off anymore, so let me at least try.

I don't remember yesterday. I really don't, and I'm sorry. However, I can explain that. I... don't know if I want to, though. Not explicitly.
Something happened in the evening that wasn't traumatic in and of itself, BUT the immediate aftereffects were.
I won't talk about that now though. Let's get the data out of the way first.


Something I realized today: in a previous post, I mentioned my old mindset of thinking "I'm not capable of making correct decisions on my own?" Well, I don't think I mentioned the other big part of what plays into that... which is, ironically, friendship.
I've spoken about this with my therapist already, but when I was in elementary school, after 1st grade, I was the outcast. I was the weird kid that no one wanted to be friends with, and when I tried, guess what mindset I got? "I'll only be your friend if you do everything I tell you to."
One of my only memories from school is in the church basement of my old school, in 3rd grade or so, with 2 girls who were my friends for a while. We were pretending we were Pokemon-- one girl was a Charizard, and the other was a Mewtwo. The problem? I wanted to be a Mewtwo. I adored that species, and being barred from being one felt like a slap in the face. But no-- the latter girl told me, quote pointedly, "you have to be Mew, and then you have to be my servant." I protested repeatedly, but couldn't win out. But it wasn't just giving up. I loved that girl, honestly I did, and so I decided I'd let her have her own way, even if I was going to gripe about it. She was the boss, I told myself. She would always be the boss.
And... that's just how my friendships seemed to go. I don't think I've ever had a real offline friendship, one that doesn't operate under that sort of power structure where I am understood to be the henchman, the scapegoat, the sidekick that does all the dirty work. The biggest problem, though, is that I let myself be shoved into that position, willingly or unwillingly... and I wouldn't fight because "hey, at least they're willing to call you a friend."
Another outcast girl tagged along with me for the rest of my elementary school days, but although I assume we spent time together, I don't remember any of it. All I do remember is that, whenever she was absent from school, I wouldn't miss her. Sick as it was, I would actually think "yess! Finally I have freedom! I hope she's out for a few days." It makes me ill to see that-- the only reason I know this is because I've found several old elementary school journals where I expressed that mindset-- but it's true. What's worse, though, is that when she was around, I wouldn't even hint at that exasperation. I'd talk to her and we'd spend time together and we were considered buddies by everyone else in school. But the second I was left alone, I was looking for a way out. I don't think she ever explicitly bossed me around, but I do remember one day in 7th grade where she literally threw my drawing tablets across the classroom-- the most meaningful things in the world to me-- laughing, as I stared in frozen horror, wanting to jump up and scream for her to stop but too scared of losing our "friendship." Is it really a friendship, though, if you don't respect each other? Is it really a friendship, if you never speak to each other outside of school, and only tolerate each others presence? But I never saw a problem back then. I didn't know any different.
It was the same once I left elementary school. On the bus, all the little kids flocked to me. And would you believe that I let THEM use me, too? One kid constantly stole my keychains and ripped pages out of my notebooks, demanding that I draw him things and getting angry when I didn't. I never told him to behave because I felt I had no right to. I never considered him a friend, but I still let him-- a 4-year-old kid-- push me around. But the most notable bus kid was someone I called Angelbee, after a magical-girl persona I created for her. She, too, bossed me around, pulled my hair, wrote in my notebooks, tore pages out of them, took things from me as I was using them and wouldn't give them back. I designed her character at her behest and then did the same for about 5 of her friends, even though I was exhausted. And, every time the bus drove past her stop instead of picking her up, I'd sigh in relief... and then punch myself for it. "How dare you wish your friend wasn't around," I'd say. "You don't deserve friends if you think of them that way." But was she ever my friend, if again, she never spoke to me after I stopped taking the bus? Was she ever my friend if I didn't know anything about her as a person, and only really loved the character she created, the pink-haired girl whose name I called her instead of her own? I don't think so.
But I did love her. I loved all of them, in a quiet sort of way, because they were people, wonderful individuals with their own stories and joys and pains, even if they were unknown to me, and they were deserving of love just because they existed.
Why couldn't we be real friends, then? I must be flawed, I guessed. It's me. I'm the problem.
Online it was a little different. Online... well, I can't speak directly, but looking back on old records, it looked like I was the one using people now. I was so used to being pushed and ordered around that now I just wanted someone to draw something for me. And that's the most selfish thing I can imagine, isn't that funny? "Hey, there are these characters that I absolutely love... can you draw them for me?" But whenever I said that, no matter what words I used-- and I was indirectly passive about it more often than not-- it felt like a demand, an outrageous demand. I was ashamed of it. But I constantly drew things for other people, hoping to "get them to like me," hoping to "earn" art in return. But damn it, that's not how you make friends either.
It's no use complaining about it now. I just want to make it clear, so I don't waste my hour of therapy on Tuesday reiterating something I already understand about my foggy past.
The point: every single one of my past friendships has been emotionally manipulative, either to me or because of me. Offline, I let myself be pushed around, never asserting or defending myself for fear of losing a "friend" I didn't even truly like, and who probably didn't even truly like me. Online, I would push other people around, skillfully handling my words and actions to get them to like "me," terrified that I was unworthy of friendship unless I played the exact role they wanted.
Hey... that's it, isn't it?
I never feel that I can be genuine in friendships. I always feel obligated to do what they want, even if I have to wrongly convince myself that I want it too.
That sounds far too close to my biggest problem again. I don't like it.
There's one last... friendship that I want to mention in this train of thought. It makes me feel like a horrible, horrible person for bringing it up, but I have to. This has been eating at me for a VERY long time, and I've only been able to put words to it now that I'm discussing it in therapy.
For years I thought this friendship broke the mold. "They like me," I thought. "They don't even order me around!"
But hindsight is 20/20, as they say.
It breaks my heart to say this. Maybe it's projection. Part of me hopes it is, so that they are pure and blameless and utterly righteous, but another quietly bitter part of me-- the part I squashed when I was still a child-- hopes that it's not, because it doesn't want to get trapped in that sort of situation again, if that's indeed what it was.
No use mincing words. Let me say this.
In that friendship, they never liked me, although they thought they did. The problem? I was too used to playing a role, and I played it damn well. Looking back, though, it hurts me to see just how much I deluded them. Once my mask slipped, they left, and I'm glad. No use perpetuating a game that they believed, just to have a "friend." The other problem is that I seriously doubt that was "ME" back then-- even my therapist thinks it was an alter. That kind of throws a monkey wrench into things. Point is, though, I learned how to manipulate people really well, to survive at home, to get people to like me. I learned how to say and do exactly what other people wanted. I just never learned how to separate an act from my true feelings and wants and needs. Maybe I still don't, not with all these voices in my head.
Still, my dishonesty there is what the friendship was founded on, and I'm well aware of it. They tried to fix it later on, but again, all my stupid acting and splintering around people made it near impossible. That's not what bothers me about this situation.
Looking back, I've realized, to my total shock and nausea, that it qualified-- yet again-- as being emotionally manipulative.
I would NEVER have accused them of that. I'd have rather blamed myself of that. And I was, I won't deny that. It was all I knew to do, to be liked. Again, that's not the point. The point is that, reviewing old conversations and notes, there is a disturbing amount of dialogue that flashes huge warning lights in my head now. Like, you don't say that to someone unless you're controlling their reactions.
It's scary to me because they didn't realize they were doing it. I don't think they did. Everyone I knew like them did that to me. It was like... like my life was a game, like my entire world was a game, and only they knew the rules. Only they knew the rules to my life, but instead of telling me, they would just make cryptic comments about it. They would leave hints-- which I am notoriously bad at even perceiving-- and they would insinuate, but nothing direct. The worst of it, though, was that they all acted like I was incapable of playing that "game," the game of my own life, without their help.
I even had them effectively tell me that a few times. That's what kind of tore the floor out from under my feet when I realized it.
I knew the early relationship-related manipulation was a problem once I started fighting for air and space, and ran. I knew that the clinginess and feelings of possession, although all obviously unintentional, were not something I could handle anymore. I didn't know that later, much MUCH later, that same thing returned, and I was blinding myself to it, because I believed them. I really did. Maybe I still do.
I BELIEVED, wholeheartedly, that they were in charge of me, and that they had the RIGHT to be. I fully believed that they understood more about life, about MY life and how I should live it, than I EVER would. I believed that I was incapable of making correct choices on my own, without their guidance. I couldn't see straight, after all. I Something in me must be flawed after all, I thought. But hey! They're here, they're so much better than I am, they're even my friends... and they know what to do, they must know. I'll do everything they tell me to.
I never questioned it. I never questioned it, not until I was torn out of their lives and they responded by throwing in the towel of our badly twisted friendship. That's when they suddenly started acting differently, rightfully questioning the validity of our bonds, and you know what? They were right about it. There was nothing, NOTHING, when you took the masks away.
One 'friendship' was based upon common interests that I never actually held. The other was effectively mutual therapy. That's all we had. That's all we ever had, and I knew it.
I was repeating the same pattern I had always followed: get a friend who chooses/ dictates/ influences everything I am "allowed" to do, actively or passively... then learn how to act to get them to 'like' you... whenever they're not around, try to run away... and yet, if THEY try to leave, freak out because that obviously means you messed up big time. Congratulations, you made someone hate you. Again.
So when they decided they'd had it with me too, I panicked.
I panicked. I was losing the only long-term friendships I had EVER had, and even if I had been a total asshole, I fought. I was stupid, and I fought to keep the relationship going, even if it was false, just because having to accept that I had fucked up again was too horrible to bear.
But the stupidest thing was I didn't even want the friendships back. I KNEW there wasn't anything substantial there, and hadn't been for years. I KNEW, looking back, that our friendship was unhealthy, and we were all at fault, with me wearing masks for fear of rejection, and them treating me, with genuine kindness, as someone incapable of living without them... something I believed with every fiber of my being.
That, on top of the thought of being rejected as a friend, stung too much for me to let go even if it would be mutually beneficial... especially because I still loved them too, like I loved everyone before them, and still did.
No matter how badly I had been abused by some of my "friends" in the past, I still loved them, and always would.
At least... I thought I did. Isn't that ridiculous?
That was the final nail in the coffin, when it hit me. I loved them all as strangers, maybe. As ideas, maybe. But that was all. I never really knew them as who they were, to themselves, to each other. None of them. I only loved the glimpses I saw of them, that I scraped together into dreams of them, doppelgangers that never existed. To this day, my mental images of them all don't match who they actually are, years later, growing up. No wonder we never actually got along. Did I ever see them for who THEY were? Was I that blinded by my hope?
I've done that to every person I've ever known.
I don't think I've ever known how to love people, because in order to see them that way, I have to see myself as a person too. I don't know how to do that.
I only ever feel safe when people don't see me. I only ever feel safe and right when I don't have a reflection in the mirror.
I guess I can't ever expect myself to have "meaningful" relationships if that's the case.

So there are our three problems, that I've found.
1. I attract, or cause, emotionally manipulative relationships, as I fear I am inherently unlikable on my own.
2. I doubt my ability to live my own life correctly, so I also attract people who insist they can/should/will do that for me.
3. I don't know how to see myself as a person, and struggle to see others as more than concepts as well.

So that's that. Terrible things, awful truths and personal failings, that J didn't even write. Of course not! He doesn't know them. He doesn't talk about "himself." The concept of a self, of a body, is claustrophobic and terrifying to him.

How much of that is even true? How much is us making stuff up? Or exaggerating? Or throwing blame at others? Do we have any right to complain? It's in the past, it's in the past, it's in the past, it's gone, not real, gone


Ssh.
Let's slip into a related topic. I believe he wanted to discuss what happened last night?


Do you know?

No. But I know enough.

this is getting really fragmented and it may be a wise decision to just close up

NO THAT'S WHAT SHE WANTS YOU TO DO!!!


I don't want to talk about last night.

Then don't. Let us talk about today, instead.

SHE ALMOST HACKED YOU TODAY, DID YOU KNOW??!?

no

SHE DID. I GOT HER OUT. SHE SCARED DAVID. WHY THE FUCK DO YOU LET HER AT YOU.

guys, don't, PLEASE, I can't do this at this hour. go talk in your own journal please, not here, not here.

...okay. okay. Okay. Sorry about that. I can't exactly tell them to shut up when that's happening. And it's extremely rude and selfish of me, not to mention utterly inappropriate, to delete what they've written after it's been said.

Last night. Last night hurts too much. I can't say that outright yet. Not yet.
There were two successful hacks this week. First ones in months. You know that, right? I wrote them on the calendar.
We haven't been getting hacked in about two years, not like this, because Julie "switched sides" in 2011. I still have to wonder if that was genuine or not. It seems maybe the Tar wanted her to. That opened doors for it to hurt us in horrendous ways, ways it couldn't even dream of using while Julie was its avatar. But once she wasn't, IMMEDIATELY it started attacking J. The horrible Celebi event chain happened. Physical flashbacks started. The nightmares stopped, but only because they moved to the waking. J insisted he was possessed half the time. He began to lose his sense of will, his awareness of his own emotions and thoughts, because the Tar was now able to slip right in and get him to instigate hacks himself. If you hurt a man long enough, brutally enough, and tell him repeatedly that it is his fault, that he deserves it, that he even WANTS it... because he should, you say, as you tear him to pieces... eventually, against every fiber of sense and health in him, he will believe you. He will believe everything you tell him. And he will forget how to do otherwise.
That is what happened to J, you realize? A boy that badly broken, incapable of seeing his own scars. Incapable of bleeding his own blood. So badly twisted and manipulated, so used to running and lying and faking smiles, that he has forgotten how to do otherwise. A boy so badly hurt that he forgets how to cry, that he forgets how to laugh, that he wastes every moment watching for danger, hypervigilant. A boy who cannot share a room with another human being without panicking that they are going to assault him, or worse. A boy who lives his days smothered by lipstick-pink desires and temptations that he hates and fears and loathes and doesn't understand, but which he gives in to nevertheless because he is terrified of the alternative. He is terrified that if he says no, he will make things worse. But he is wrong. There is nothing, nothing worse than losing your soul because you've been convinced it's worthless in your own hands.
There is nothing worse than watching a boy lose his heart because he's been told that it's inherently filthy.
There is nothing, nothing more painful than seeing a young, beautiful boy forget what love is, because he's too used to trauma masquerading under that name.
There is nothing worse than seeing this child view the world through empty eyes, praying for death, when all he truly wants is to live, to live a life free from pain and terror and abuse. His nights are sick. His days are sicker. What do we do?
I do not know.
Can we do anything?
I do not know. He could, if anyone could. But you see what has happened.
Yes. I do see. It's a shame, a heartbreaking shame. He's not trying to hurt him.
I know. But he does. The boy is broken. You know so yourself. The slightest touch will break him further now.
Does the healing require such terrible pain, though?
I don't know.
I see.


....
i have a feeling that whatveer that cloud of text is , its important.
not going to even ATTEMPT to wriet anymore tonight,good night.
weekends are tough. everyone is home and there's a lot of noise. i get suicidal on weekends from the sheer overload of sensation. its easier than dealing with an assault on my five senses for 72 hours afeter all
i was so tierd and sad today i laid in bed for 2 hours listening to todd rundregn
after standing otuside in the sun for an hour and wanted to cry because i couldnt just go into the woods and lie down beneath the pines and stay there forever
i couldnt fly this evening they told me i wasnt joyful enough and you cant fly without joy, i was weighting myself down
i got myself tos mile and for a second i felt my wings come back, mayeb i could have flown a bit but no too much sad
last night last ngiht hurt so much
whoops j is gone sorry he must not want to talk about that

but im not allowed to talk here too uh oh seee you

 



 

 

sept 24

Sep. 24th, 2013 04:30 pm
prismaticbleed: (held)

 

 

Things that happened today, so far.

At therapy, the session opened with her saying we were going to start working from Amongst Ourselves, I've vaguely heard about the book before, from the online DID community, but I've never looked into it. Still, she gave me some papers photocopied from the first chapter, and we discussed it a little already, so we'll all start working from this together. I'm glad; this really feels like a big step forward in terms of where we can go from here, with understanding and management and coping and the like.
We also unearthed a big connective point, which is the main thing I want to record.
I've known for a while now that I associate pain with corrective love (childhood discipline), and retributive healing. When I am not punished for a wrongdoing I fear that I am either irredeemable, or that those who know and have not punished me are manipulating me into committing wrongs. This is a rather paranoid mindset and it is not often true outside of headspace. This is also why our protectors in headspace (Laurie and Knife) are also persecutors in their own right-- under that mindset, those who protect must also harm. ('Bleeding' is viewed as beneficially purgative, etc.) I seek out abusive relationships because I feel more cared for in them. I freak out when my friends don't express disappointment or anger with me, because then I think they have no concern for my welfare or even would prefer that I become a delinquent. And this explains why I am the closest to Laurie upstairs, above everyone else: she pushes me around, she insults me, she used to actually beat me up, but there are NO vicious motives there (motives are very important!!), and she has ALSO made it VERY CLEAR that she adores me and she would do anything to keep me safe. So, to me, the 'violent' side of her personality actually supports that. I know she cares BECAUSE she treats me roughly. This may not be true for people downstairs, but the mindset is there, and has been for as long as I can remember. "If you truly care for my well-being, you will punish me when I do wrong."
I've also known that I feel obligated to take blame from other people, in order to end fights. In my house, people wouldn't take responsibility for mistakes, big or small-- "I forgot to do something important because YOU distracted me," etc.-- and so things wouldn't get settled. I was frequently told as a child that things were my fault, even if I had nothing to do with them at all. Still, although this was emotionally frightening for me, I learned very quickly that if it was my fault, truthfully or not, I could then act as a peacekeeper, taking the brunt of all the anger and guilt that no one else wanted to face. As I grew older this made me become very diplomatic as well, but as a child, it just made me feel like I WAS solely responsible for everyone else's pain. My obsession with "being good" BUT also feeling that I could only be truly good if "my sins were purged" through punishment or pain, made me feel obligated to become the literal scapegoat. Therefore, "you must be punished for causing such pain in others."
But today, in therapy, I realized that this second mindset ties into the first one in a way I never noticed before? This constant feeling responsible for my family's suffering, on top of my associating parental love/ my own worth with pain and punishment, is what caused my problem of thinking "I'm incapable of making correct choices on my own." See how it lines up? The negative reinforcement smothered any positive reinforcement I got for my own choices. Usually, if I asserted myself, or voiced an opinion, or anything of that sort, I was told that I was "hurting someone else" in the process, "being selfish or manipulative," etc. That also explains why I rely on headspace people for inner choices, because I've had this internally too. So instead of choosing on my own and hurting people, or causing more trouble, or making everything worse... I learned to just give in and do what I was told.
I daresay that sounds familiar too.
My therapist reached that exact same point. "You learned to just give in, to get it over with."
As soon as she said that, the panic alarm went off, and I started slipping badly. However, SHE NOTICED! And she called it out, which was enough of a distracting surprise for me to struggle back into decent enough control to finish the session.
I'm glad it happened though. I didn't realize THAT was so strongly tied to THESE concerns, too! Go figure. I'm hoping we can pursue that line of thought in the future, safely. Healing is a long and involved process but we are getting there, wow are we ever.

I was too shaken up from the session slippage to drive afterwards, so Laurie decided to. As usual she lectured Knife and I the entire time, but in doing so in light of therapy we discovered something else: that weird dissociation I get doesn't go away when other people front. Headvoices are better able to manage it, though. I wondered what it was, and then suddenly, Laurie got it-- since we're all anchored in headspace, THAT'S where we naturally ground! When we front, we are SPLIT between being in the body and being 'upstairs.' Laurie instinctively talks to us aloud when she fronts, even though we aren't 'in' physical reality. When she stops, and 'thinks' for herself, she says 'the silence and disconnection bothers me.' Because in order for her to REALLY front, with her own private thoughts and actions and choices, she HAS to temporarily 'unplug' from headspace. That's somewhat jarring for a headvoice to do, and so they typically keep that connection when fronting... which causes the dissociation, and the tendency to suddenly 'switch out' if someone else is triggered, or wants to talk, etc. There's simply not a strong enough anchor for the traditional DID complete fronting when our people front. It's part of our rules, of course-- always having backup and people watching prevents total pandemonium, as well as sudden dangerous switches-- but it is highly problematic because it makes body functioning dazed all the time.

On that note, I needed to pick something up at the mall for my bro, so Laurie phased out and then asked Knife if he wanted to try fronting? I think there was a bit of lighthearted bickering here, but then Knife said sure-- and he did something REALLY interesting. Instead of jumping right into the body (which would involve a pause and shivers and a blurry few-second transition), he PROJECTED? Like we do when the AP is running, and we just program commands into it. He stayed upstairs with us, but he began sending programming to the AP to make the body act more like he felt, and THEN he jumped in. That eliminated the total stop we typically would need to switch! So that was cool.
Anyway, I know he was fully fronting once we entered the mall, as I remember he was staring at the map and asking me where we needed to go. That moment struck me as very interesting, because I guess I was far enough 'out' to not be bleeding over into his mindset, and since I'm usually not, it actually shocked me to see that he was 100% unruffled by all the people around him. I usually worry on the behalf of other system members, as I tend to feel trapped, self-conscious and overwhelmed in public, especially with so many people! And always being aware of headspace makes it feel like people can see all these others surrounding me, although I don't know if they can. But Knife was standing there, arms stiff at his sides, calmly reviewing this map, oblivious to whether or not people were looking at him oddly. It was really cool. Then Laurie told him where to go and he set off, all of us hanging back and watching to see how he handled fronting in public for the first time. Honestly, he did surprisingly well. He walks in a very dignified manner, holding himself straight and formal, with none of the walking trouble that I have when I do that. There was no arm movement I think, but every once in a while someone would approach the body and trigger the instinctive 'they're trying to hurt you' response, but Knife didn't panic or back out (he knows it's not always warranted too)-- instead, I noticed he only clenched his fists like he was holding two knives. The first time he did and felt no actual weapons, there was a slight wave of real concern and hesitation, but it faded quickly enough. But that wasn't the best part of him fronting-- mind you, when a headvoice fronts, the entire inner perception of the body changes to them. So Knife is walking down the hall, formal and stoic, his coattails trailing behind him, and all of a sudden I realize that he's wondering what to do with his teeth. I had no idea what that was for a moment, and then I realized, he DOES have fangs!! He was shadowing fangs, and was slightly distressed by the fact that he didn't actually HAVE any, but he could feel where they were 'astrally,' so to speak. Laurie and I thought this was hilarious, and she teased him about it a little, to which he actually started nervously biting the inside of the mouth. I felt kind of bad because it's always disorienting when your body doesn't match, but it was kind of endearing seeing Knife act so human, ironically, even if just in a little way. (Also I hope he doesn't mind my mentioning this, but after noticing the teeth thing Laurie joked that we should buy him some plastic vampire fangs since it's almost Halloween anyway. I laughed at that, but Knife didn't respond for a few seconds. Then he said, somewhat wonderingly, "do they really make those?" Laurie cracked up of course, said yeah, decided on the spot we were going to buy him some ASAP. I thought it was adorable.)
Anyway. On the way back out of the mall, Laurie decided to front for a bit, so Knife graciously phased out and let Laurie phase in, allowing the few-second AP gap as usual... and the switch from his affect to hers when she settled in was striking.
Laurie swaggers when she walks. It's both awesome and hilarious. Honestly, Knife strides along like an aristocrat, all stately and somewhat aloof... but Laurie just ambles around like she owns the place. She's simultaneously relaxed and battle-ready. Just picture a debonair entrepreneur and a nonchalant gang leader walking side-by-side, and you've got a pretty accurate image of the difference between how they each carry the body. (As for me, I'd be the five-year-old kid running along behind them, grinning from ear to ear and probably tripping over curbs, haha.)
I'm curious who else can front in public, now that we're aware of what causes the system-wide dissociation for non-public alters (in other words, most of us!). Usually only strong-minded people can do that, as they don't have to worry about major triggers... so Mulberry is definitely a candidate. Problem is, she might be the ONLY candidate. Razor is NOT, despite her unnerving calmness, because she has the moral compass and social comprehension of a two-year-old. The first and only time she's fronted before (the only reason I even know it happened is because there's a VOICE FILE of it on Mitchell), she literally wondered aloud how I resisted the urge to "cut things" when there were so many things to cut around me. You get the picture. But then we only have the kids (who HAVE fronted but have been emotionally damaged by the experience), Jeremiah (who is NOT comfortable around people at ALL), and Sugar (who will attack anyone who she perceives as the slightest threat). Everyone in Central used to be able to front without the slightest problem, but... I don't know if any of them are still alive, besides Laurie.
Still, I'm curious now. I don't know who the public fronters are and I don't think I can; that would impede on their function. But I wish there was a more coherent system for fronting. It's not easy to live upstairs 95% of the time, and then have to deal with the consequences of the other 5% if someone manic or self-destructive comes out. Not fun, dude.
I'm laughing though. I just brought up the old adakias journal to review some things, and already, I DO NOT REMEMBER THAT STUFF. So soon, so suddenly! But I guess it's good. I needed new energy, some new place to let go of the mess that happened this year, with the resets and people getting hurt and tossed around. That's about all I know about it though, just that painful things happened. Couldn't tell you what though, and I'm thankful for it. Now we just have to help everyone else heal.
That's something I haven't mentioned yet either. Knife's new anchor is that of a healer. He can actually do that now, heal people who have been hurt in headspace. I don't know if anyone could ever do that before, so it's pretty amazing. He and Laurie are basically BFFs now (well, as bff-ish as those two can get) which is brilliant as well.
I miss seeing people get along like this. I miss feeling like headspace is a family. I'll tell you what, these reset things may have been traumatic, but now, Central and the Underground are connected. There's no split between us anymore. We all work together. And personally I think that was worth it. Everything works out in the end. I really do miss this feeling of togetherness. I can't remember the last time I felt it.

On a similar note, in light of yesterday, I think I'm going to practice energy sensing again. I've been so shattered internally that I've forgotten how. But I miss being able to perceive things subtly, and in strange ways. I miss tasting color, and smelling auras, and seeing sound. I miss being able to reach out and get this sensory rainbow from anyone upstairs whenever I tuned in. I miss my creative side, too. That same side of me is the one that can shape words into similar sensations. "Poet mode," you know. I haven't been anywhere near that in at least 6 months, I'd think.
But now, immersing myself in the literature I adored as a child, in all those ideas and images that helped me become who I am today... I wonder, if both of those sides of me are coming back now? It sure feels like it! It's exciting, actually.
I'm currently on Animorphs #17, which was my first favorite book of the series-- it's this glorious shade of pink, and Rachel turns into a BAT on the cover, for heavens sake! (You may not know, but I actually loved the color pink as a child; it didn't become "evil" until Julie stole it. I even used to pretend I was a pink pterodactyl in 1st grade, haha. And of course I have always adored bats!) I don't remember the actual book-- I don't remember the series at ALL so re-reading it is so awesome-- but I'm excited to start it, especially since the next one is #18, where Ax turns into a mosquito, and I LOVED that one as a kid, for many reasons. One of those reasons, amusingly enough, also ties into the reason why I haven't started reading #17 yet... which is that lately, I've been busy soaking up the beautiful words of Madeleine L'Engle, my biggest childhood literary inspiration.
I mentioned that in my previous entry as well, but... reading the Wrinkle In Time quintet over again, revisiting the worlds and remembering the messages within it-- it all makes me feel that I'm not as lost as I feared I was. No, that's not quite right... it makes me BELIEVE it. Meg is so much like I was as a little kid: stubborn, impatient, and angry, sure, but she loves her brother, and she has a good heart, and even though she feels she is inadequate she is shown to be an important individual in her own right, inherently worthy of love. I'm not like her now, and I don't even remember what it was like to be 'childhood me,' but still, following her footsteps, I'm finding strength and hope, too.
How do I explain it?
Really, this is when I wish I had friends, who weren't overwhelmed by me. I get SO enamored with these books and things, I need to just effervesce this joy, with someone who feels the same about it! Bursting with affection and admiration over music or art or the like, and having someone just nod and say "okay" in response, really makes me feel tired and sad. I need the reflection, the sharing. Because I do NOT feel this way about things easily! Sure, I can say I liked this or that about a lot of things, but when it gets down to total sparkly bliss and inspiration, there are only a few things on that list. To my surprise. L'Engle's books have stayed on that list!
But it's oddly personal, too. It's personal in an oddly close way, where it feels too intimate to talk about it casually. When I really love things, it gets like that, which is hard for people to understand. Even Nier! I can't play that in the same room as other people because their world is BEAUTIFUL and the music is GORGEOUS and I feel SO much like Nier himself and Grimoire Weiss is the COOLEST... you get the idea. I love that game. So I need to share it with someone else that loves it so. Which is very hard to find, because when I truly love something, I love it intensely, with an ardor that's inherently tied TO my creative, poetic side. And that depth makes it something really special to me. But most people just say "okay, I can see you like it," without FEELING why... and it just sucks me dry, like a black hole. I'm essentially showing them something that has affected me deeply and strongly enough to light me up like a supernova, bright-eyed and laughing from the wonder of it, and they can only see it as another point on a list of interests... Nier, FROST*, Klonoa, A Wrinkle In Time. You get the idea.

On that note. (Perhaps somewhat disconnected, but it's close enough to me.)
I am halfway through A Wind In The Door right now. Meg is currently trying to figure out which Mr. Jenkins is real, standing in the schoolyard, backed by Proginoskes the cherubim. And up to that point I kept wondering just how fluffy those feathers were and just what those lovely eyes looked like, et cetera, and then suddenly Mrs. L'Engle reminds me that manifested cherubim have circulatory systems and I was like whooooa dude okay I'm sold. Honestly I crack myself up with this. I've been obsessed with hearts since I was a tiny kid and really I used to be ashamed of it-- that's the real reason I loved Animorphs #18, now you know-- but now I embrace it as this odd but quietly honest weakness of mine, something that fits perfectly into my forever-naive compassion for everything. It just hurts that, for years, I got it confused. I got a lot about myself confused. Not anymore though, we're cool. Now I'm just blushing like an idiot at the thought of cuddling up to a huge fiery fluffy cherubim, aha. Especially one with an attitude like Progo, he's adorable, I love him.
I have forever been enamored with how L'Engle portrays cherubim, though, as you probably have gathered. THIS is the image of them that I grew up with. That is GORGEOUS.
You've probably noticed that is most definitely where Infinitii anchored aesthetically, too.
That's why this re-reading is hitting me so hard. Yes, Progo is brilliant, but he keeps reminding me of Infi, this strange and beautiful being. But Infi has intimacy going against him here, ironically. Isn't that weird? I can be as affectionate and loving as I want with a total stranger who is open-hearted to it. But when someone gets close to me, and starts returning that to me, I freak out and push them away, then run when they try to get close again, even if I still love them with all my heart (although I will likely bury it in fear). I've never understood that.
Maybe it ties into the old love=pain thing for me. Maybe. It would make sense, at least on a basic level. But the fear? Is that because my family was emotionally bereft when I was growing up? No one was close to anyone else, any gestures of such were viewed with harshness. And then growing up with a non-traditional gender and romantic orientation made it impossible to show feelings towards anyone, on any level, without being rejected in disgust and often hate. I did it to myself, I would know. But it's sad. Maybe I just learned to be scared of it, without knowing why.
All I know is that I miss that weird little angel with his creepy toothy grins and big gray-red eyes and echoic voice in my head. I don't remember him either and I miss him. It's so odd.
Chaos too. He's all three-pointed stars, except fluid, all oceanic and blue and a strange lovely fusion of points and curves. He's hard to describe and it's awesome. But I miss him too, and I don't know who he is, but something keeps pushing me really quietly to maybe find him again. I can't be sure.
I just want to find out why I'm more comfortable with welcoming strangers than I have ever been with close friends. Maybe that's why I like Laurie, too? Because she never gets too close, and when she does, there's always that edge. Always that slight brutality to it. Won't even kiss me without pulling my hair. Gotta have that pain somewhere, or I get scared. So odd. At least she understands, and doesn't want to get emotionally close anyway, and neither do I.
Emotional closeness and emotional openness aren't synonymous to me, I just realized. I can be an open book with anybody, entirely trusting and vulnerable, but there's a childlike quality to it that, when disturbed, SHATTERS me. I can be the most affectionate person in the world as long as you're treating me like I'm younger than 12. Once you start seeing me as an 'adult,' once you start trying to pull me into 'mature' relationships, I get terrified. I run.
Oh hey. That's probably it. What if I had my perception of friendships and partnerships and romance corrupted so badly at such an early age, that I never learned what they really were like? And now I don't know how to fix it. I've been trying, I've apparently just made it worse! That's what the Undergrounders keep saying, "be careful," "the hackers go after you because you're fragile," "you can't trust people like that." And I know that's true. But it's tough for a soft-hearted silly person like me, I guess. It hurts for me to not trust people, or to realize that yes, there ARE people inside our head that want to hurt me. Naturally I want to love them, and help them heal. But they take advantage of me, so other people have to protect me a lot. Otherwise... well. Bad things happen.
Laurie says that's my biggest flaw and my biggest blessing, my inability to stop being so childlike. She loves and hates that about me, but she always says, "kid, never lose that." Always.
Sorry, it's late and I'm starting to fall into "I don't know how to speak in written language because words are confusing and I just want to feel at people" mode. Kything!
But yeah. Fluffy gorgeous cherubim and hearts and eyes and fire and smoke. So nice. I can't help but laugh when I realize that THAT'S my ideal aesthetic, no wonder people look at me funny! I don't mind though. We'd be best friends and it'd be great.
I can visualize exactly what I want to say, and what I need, and what I feel. Isn't that unusual? I can think in pictures just fine, but I don't know how to put that into words! It's why I struggle with writing stories down too. How do you put an expression, or a feeling, or a sight, into words? You lose what you're actually trying to describe, limiting it to written language. it's so frustrating sometimes it makes me cry. why can't i just show people these things, watch their eyes light up and they'll laugh too, what beautiful stuff that is, thank you for sharing it with me. and i'd smile, hey do you like music, do you want to hear some of the symphonies i hear in my head? oh yes please they'd say, young and old people alike, businessmen in top hats and little kids with gaps in their smiles and old women with thinning hair. yes please, and then i'll share my dreams with you too.
that's the kinda world i want to live in down here too, in physical space, in the waking. i want to live with people who all love and trust each other and everyone gets along. i want to be able to walk down the street and know that everyone is my friend and i am everyones friend too and we all do what brings us joy and share it.
oh and a world where when the cold autumn air whips around the moon and clouds like crystal, like it did last night, i can go outside and really fly instead of wodnering why my arms wont carry me up into the sky unless my eyes are closed.

sorry. i am very tired. this got really disjointed really fast, thats what happens when theres a switch in consciousness.
dont worry though this is j, at least a deeper part of me i guess, the part that doesnt like having a name. but its "me" if that makes you feel a little better.
hmmmm i want to give you a song of the night let me find a nice one.
OH here have some glitchy choral things because we're talking about angels and this is my favorite genre ever.
plus it sounds like infinitii if that makes sense. you'll see what i mean.
https://soundcloud.com/forss/lux-aeterna

g'night everyone you're all lovely have sweet dreams and all that
today's been beautiful, tomorrow will be too, see you then!

 

 

 

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: (aflame)


I'm feeling oddly content right now for some reason?
I got sick from food again today-- I tried to fast, as I really did not feel like eating, but I unfortunately gave in to hunger around 2PM and had like three cups of vegetables, haha. I need to start cutting back on portions.
Then I didn't eat again until around 9PM and that made me incredibly nauseous, so I won't be doing that again. My only real complaint is that, with how sensitive I've been to food lately, it's actually causing me to develop aversions fairly quickly. At the moment, I can't look at eggplants, oats, or sweet fruit without wanting to gag, simply because my stomach is that unsettled at the moment. It's odd, but I'm rolling with it. Life changes fast and I'm more than used to the major bodily changes this shift is bringing at this point. Bring it on!
Anyway, even though I have a headache and can't see straight, and might have to go for long-overdue hernia surgery next week (I hope not but I have no idea how to fix this on my own; I'll see), I'm still happy on the inside? Which is really, really nice.
I think I know why too-- I'm finally fixing the orange problem, hooray for me. I miss this stuff, it's great.
Last night I was up until 1:30AM because I randomly felt like drawing. I put it off all day, then as I was catching up on Dream World work as usual, I randomly decided to give the typing/cataloguing a break and do some sketching. So I finally put together a tentative redesign for Princess Amei, a really sweet monster from an extended-universe comic I drew back around 1999. I'm currently focusing on typing all those old stories into the 'novel,' so updated art is needed to accompany it! Anyway I'm happy with it, and it was fun. Then I proceeded to meticulously practice drawing Chaos Zero for at least two hours, haha. Time well spent!

Speaking of the love of my life. On Tuesday night (the 31st), I was about to just sleep without going home first (which I've been doing for weeks now; I used to spend at least 30 minutes talking to the family upstairs before work), when suddenly I was 'pulled' upstairs by someone who was really trying hard to get my attention... Xenophon. My lovely little daughter. Well, needless to say she missed me just as much as I missed her, but thankfully Laurie has been acting as a sort of 'big sister' to her in my absence so she's picked up on some of her habits... most notably, her determination in cases of virtue.
Xenophon absolutely refused to let me sleep without finally taking action on the whole orange situation first. Honestly, I was lying in bed and she was sitting right next to me, lecturing me in that adorable way of hers (I swear it's a purple thing)... we talked a lot. At one point we brought up Holy Saturday again, and I know I haven't written about that yet (I should because it was CRAZY), but Xennie is the only reason any of us got through it... in short, she found her metainomen. I'm unsure on what it is specifically-- I can feel the vibe-- but her "attribute" (we need jargon for that) is Blood, which is incredibly significant. Her metainomen is naming her as some sort of... I don't know, redemptrix of it?? As in, her very existence was a "redemption" of the blood we lost in all the graves dug, and now that's her title in a very concrete sense. I want to say she's a "Maiden," not just for her innocence and youth, but also because she is... well, "maid" of Blood. It's fitting.
Anyway it was a very emotional event, because we had discussed it beforehand, and let me tell you, talking about death with your baby girl is really a heartwrenching experience. You get the picture. But yeah, that topic came up again as we spoke, because she was referencing the courage and compassion that motivated it, for her as well as for me. And... I forget how it got to that, but she said that she wanted wings like mine? She loves her butterfly wings, but she said she wanted them to resemble the 'soul style' I have going on. Now at this point my walls had pretty much melted-- it is impossible to be 'closed off' around her, she's too sweet-- so I just reached out and channeled that spark of love, the first clear thing I'd felt in a while, into her wings, to help them grow. And dude did they ever grow.
Being a child in headspace, Xennie is very sensitive to energy, so she reacts to it fast, especially if there's direct intention behind it. I swear, as soon as that energy hit her, her wings just bloomed into these beautiful crystal shapes... I need to draw them, I really do. She was so excited when she noticed this, it just lit me up to see the joy on her face.
She must have noticed this, because immediately she jumped on my sudden openness and told me that it was now or never. If I could do that for her, then it was time to take the next step in fixing the mess I'd made over the past few months. She said that even though I was tired, I had to make a sacrifice here, for everyone's sake. So she refused to let me abandon my responsibility, not letting me so much as close my eyes because she insisted I get out of bed and go talk to her other father first.
...So I did.
Let me just say that the look on Chaos' face when I walked onto the main balcony for the first time in over a month was beyond description. You know how some things both break your heart and illuminate it at the same time? Yeah, that was one of those things. Then he threw his arms around me and I swear every negative moment since March just disappeared entirely. In the space of a single moment, I suddenly didn't care about acting tough or fighting demons or even chasing the void. All I could feel was love, both within and without, and God it was beyond words.
Sometimes you need to just jump into the water headfirst, I guess. (It's more than worth it.)
As if that wasn't amazing enough, Genesis apparently heard that I was finally 'back home' and he showed up a few minutes in, and wow I didn't realize how badly I missed him until I saw that grin of his, not dimmed in the slightest by the tears in his eyes (they still look like Van Gogh paintings to me). Honestly he is an incredible friend and daily life feels oddly banal without his sugar-spark energy lighting it up. He was so overwhelmed that he actually kissed me in front of Chaos, which started a hilariously beautiful chain of events where Chaos decided that wasn't fair and Laurie got everyone into a group hug and Xenophon kept complaining that she was too short to join in without flying, it was the best thing. Oh, and she showed Chaos her new wings, that was amazing... man that whole night/ morning/ whatever was absolutely gorgeous, I am so glad I took that chance.
By the way, there were more pictures of Chaos on dA last night, I told you it works!!
"You are the cause, and the world is the effect..." so true. Listen, there is a book I am reading right now that I cannot wait to finish so I can tell you guys about it. Also I SWEAR it is Dream World in a nutshell, it's uncanny. Thank God for incredible unexpected inspiration gates, right?

Where was I.
Oh yes, the happiness bit. I definitely think it's because of Tuesday night, and my recent work for Dream World, obviously. I've been trying to fix PARS2 (another 10-year-old story) all evening, which is quite the endeavor, but it's posing a lot of interesting questions and I forgot how endearing Rosaka is, haha. She needs more love.
I'm also trying to observe the last 15 days of Ramadan, for the sake of both spiritual solidarity and personal piety. I don't consider myself a member of any one religion at this point, but I deeply admire and respect the motivations and intentions that go into this holy month, so I want to partake in it as much as I can. My only concern is that I might not end up taking care of myself well enough-- yes, I'm only doing half the fast, which is less strenuous, but I don't eat much the way it is, and eating late does not agree with my sleeping schedule! So I'm concerned that my suhoor/ iftar might not give me enough calories to make it through the day 'safely,' so to speak. I'll have to be careful. I'm also concerned about sleep, as I've been purposely staying up until 1AM lately because my flight on the 14th isn't going to arrive at SLC until around that time, whoa man. But I don't want to mess up my health by messing with my rest patterns too drastically. In any case I'll have to do some more reading on Ramadan practices before I go to bed, because I really do want to do this.

I haven't been reading the GFP news updates lately and that isn't cool, I really should take an hour or two tomorrow to catch up on what's going down. I've had some killer brain fog for about two weeks now, and I'm curious as to what's up astrologically. July played out surprisingly accurately, according to their predictions, so I'd like to see what's scheduled for August, especially since the Mercury retrograde is coming to an end soon... and I know the 4th is incredibly important, can't remember why offhand though. Plus I keep hearing talk about the Olympics being really important in terms of global unity but I haven't read much about that either! Geez, I feel really out of the loop.

Random thought: I found a small touch-lamp in my bro's room that he wasn't using, so now it's on my desk, and it's lovely. It's just enough warm light for me to see my notes at 12AM, and doesn't wake anyone else up, haha! I'm going to have to get something like this in Utah, maybe. We'll see. I'm not planning anything until I get out there-- well, except for spending as much time outside as possible. Living in the woods is beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I can't really do anything besides walk around the house here (the woods is home to many predatory animals so I can't go exploring anymore, sadly). So I'm really looking forward to having actual places to go once I move. It'll be interesting!

Speaking of moving, I didn't mention this yet but I am selling all of my old manga/anime/Pokemon collections online. So, if you're interested in buying comics, games, CDs, DVDs, etc., or know someone else who might be, please spread the word-- I need to get rid of this stuff, and I need cash.
It's hilarious though-- it took me at least 16 hours to get that post together. It amounted to three solid days of finding/organizing stuff, taking/uploading photographs, and meticulously writing up the sales post! And the past two days have been spent managing orders and running to the post office, which is actually very fun, go figure. I'm not used to such a tightly-packed schedule, but I guess in this context (work at home, aw yeah son) it works. I don't mind it at all.
Also, when I went to ship my most recent two orders, the woman at the post office saw me walking in and joked that I practically lived there already, haha. That's what I get for my eBay and deviantART sales shenanigans, I suppose! But it's nice, because now we're on friendly terms and can talk casually whenever I walk in. I love that so much. It makes me want to be a 'regular customer' everywhere, just so I can be buddies with everyone. Seriously, whenever I drive past a diner or cornerstore or whatever, I want to stop in and spend some time solely to socialize. I want to connect with people, genuinely so. My father is my biggest role model in this respect; I know I've mentioned it online before, but I swear, no matter where we go, he knows someone! Because, even if no one has ever seen him before when he walks in, the whole place will know his name by the time he walks out. He starts conversations in elevators, he introduces himself to folks waiting in line, everything. I honestly admire that and try to emulate it as much as possible-- this from the guy who tells the cashier to have a good evening, and treasures the smiles he sees in return. Seriously I just love people so much, and I don't spend nearly enough time expressing that. Which is why I'm excited to move-- the SLC library employees are going to know me on sight pretty darn fast, I'll tell you that already!
Oh yes, and on the same note, I'm trying to talk to my friends online more (the sales thing is helping; a few of them bought stuff from me so we've been chatting it up thanks to that working as an icebreaker). I seriously missed talking to Termina (she's the one helping me out with Ramadan btw), and I'd like to get back in touch with DJ (my music boss, who bugs me to death on Skype but I don't mind as he's hilarious) but I unfortunately feel like I'm on semi-bad terms with him? I've had to back out of a few projects he asked me about (music and art-wise) thanks to my busy life, and I'm not sure how to make that up to him. Maybe I just need to suck it up and apologize, haha. But it feels nice to be communicating again. I'm also riding that wave and commenting on deviantART completely at random, like I used to when I first joined. It's surprisingly uplifting, even just saying a few words of appreciation on a wicked cool picture someone drew or something. Plus I care about a lot of the people I watch on dA, but never speak to them. So I'm trying to express that now, because it means a lot to know that you're loved, even a little bit, even by a stranger.

Regardless, it's 3:33 on the dot (hello angels!), and I should conclude this entry soon as I'd like to get at least ten minutes of drawing in before I check in for the night, despite the time, just so I don't slack off on rekindling my creativity. Pray that my art program doesn't crash and erase my work like it did yesterday (five times)! Seriously I need a new program, this one is a major pain in the neck. Drawing traditionally is more fun (I adore getting lost in pencil work) but at this hour it'd strain my eyes something fierce. So I must brave the computer screen, lagging tablet pen, and touchy programs! Fun for the whole family (or not). Just kidding. I can't really complain, as I'm glad I have a laptop, tablet, and art program to work with at all!

So. Tomorrow I start my fast, I ship more boxes, and I possibly go work at my church picnic because volunteering is cool.
But before then I really do need to sleep. Who knows, maybe one day I'll be the one stopping by and tossing silver dreamdust on your eyes at night! Gotta love this apprenticeship.
Sweet dreams and sweeter days to you all.



bluescreen

Apr. 16th, 2012 06:04 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


Well. Apparently the universe really, really wants me to stop relying on computers?
Within 24 hours I have lost virtually all work access to both my laptops.

A few weeks ago something kept telling me, loudly, "print out your Dream World work." I wholeheartedly agreed, but once again shadows kept conspiring to stop me. First my printer had a fatal error (he's still shot), then the ink ran out for the family printer. Then when I got it to work, I couldn't get on my computer to print! My schedule seemed to fill up at the exact times I'd be free enough to type. And when I could type, my Vista-- Abbey-- would often crash, freeze, or refuse to let me format documents correctly (she's a bit ditzy to say the absolute least). So I didn't get to start typing in earnest until about a week ago... and as of last night, Abbey no longer recognizes anything plugged in from a USB.
I can't access my files (my backup files are from February and are missing all the major edits that hit me over the past month), I can't print anything, and I can't even back up my files onto an external hard drive. She also has no Internet access (and hasn't had any for over two years). Abbey has effectively 'landlocked' herself and as a result she is now effectively as good as broken.
Then last night I tried to partition Apollo, my Mac, and that didn't work... long story short, he's now all but empty. I still have Internet (obviously) but that's it, and now it's basically pointless to go online.
Because of this I have been forced, and rather distressingly so, to abandon virtually all of my reliance on computers. I still can only write music and type on them, of course, but I'm stuck for right now...
Thank God Apollo is recognizing USB ports today. I don't care how old the info may be-- I'm printing every single page I have written for Dream World, just in case I lose computer access altogether.

This isn't about computers though. Honestly I'd be happier if I didn't have to use them, which is keeping me laughing through this fiasco, because hey! I'm kind of forced to do that now.
But the computers don't matter here. What matters is my work.
I know it's important. When I actively try to deny it I get loudly reminded that it's something I need to be doing.
And I've been doubting and denying far too much lately.

This isn't the only huge issue I'm being pushed to deal with right now.
In the big picture, really, I couldn't care less about the computers. Like I said, I'd be happier without them. But that simple assertion hides within it an old thought that is more damaging than I ever realized. And the event that forced me into that realization is what is causing me to be so distressed today, re-routing this maddeningly directionless dolor into my technological concerns.
The computers don't matter. What irony, to realize that today, of all aching days.
Apparently, there are a few 'deep' emotional problems I've never dealt with because I had no idea they existed, or could exist. Now I'm reading Huxley's Island more studiously than I read my textbooks, and it's giving me insights that are so sharp and accurate it's rather disturbing. I've had to close the book and take a deep breath a few times already, as if I had just caught myself from falling off a cliff. I'll read sentences that describe my life so accurately it frightens me, because I didn't realize I was that dysfunctional on those levels.
Ironically, the level I clearly know that I'm dysfunctional on is still the worst.
But we'll get to that.

I'm feeling disconcertingly 'detached' today, and there's a worried anxiety gnawing at my ribs. It's the dry sort, though. It's the kind that feels like standing in the middle of an empty parking lot as thunderclouds roll in, and the air is choked with the smell of ozone. The wind whips around you, almost intangible in the coffin-warm air, foreboding. It's not a nice feeling.
I used to call these 'Julie days,' before I learned that she was just as much a casualty as I was. These are shadow days, ego days, hours that fester in the interim between headaches and fever sleep. I don't like it.
And yet, in trying to prevent these days, I perpetuate them. In trying to traverse deeper into love, in trying to open my heart a little more, I find myself forgetting closeness, forsaking affection, closing my heart. Every time. I don't understand this.
I know what happened last night, and yet I don't. Laurie insists we talk about it, and so we will. Friday, maybe.
But the point is this: whatever last night triggered-- and maybe it just dug this up yet again, the parasite that refuses to die-- today, I fell into fragment mode.
No, no splinters. They're gone for good. But this is what the fragmented one felt like. It wanted nothing, nothing at all; it rejected everything, pushed everything away, denied and forgot and renounced it all. No exceptions. And it makes sense, when it is here. Whenever it is here, it makes perfect sense. My perceptions seem to be colored by circumstance, even when I am present. Why does the same state of mind feel so incomparably different, depending on when I feel it? Why does the emptiness beckon with both bright and dark? Why do I still seek nothingness? I'm supposed to be using stars to fight this entropy, but I've been rejecting Timeheart for the false light of the void. And yet the irony sticks around. I always seem to find myself caught up in paradoxes.
Genesis showed up to say hello this morning, to see how I was feeling, and I told him to leave. Not out of malice, no, but simply because I didn't want him around.
Indifference is deadlier than enmity.

It's been three months since that hellish night of January 17th, and in a sick, sick way, that night was more beautiful than last night was. Why? Because I could feel, three months ago. Because even though I was bleeding and sobbing and praying for death or deliverance, Xenophon was standing there by me, telling me that she still loved me even with the new gashes on my chest. Even though I felt worthless and abhorrent and twisted beyond forgiveness, Chaos was there to offer just that, holding true to unconditional love when I was convinced I had thrown it away, convinced that I had sinned irreconcilably against him, against life itself. And even though I lied and manipulated and hurt and deeply damaged both myself and the innocent, with a bloody knife in my shaking hand, Laurie still put her life on the line for me, to jump in the line of fire, to try to save me from my own vicious contrition when I was the one desperate for bleary red retribution.
“Truly, it is in darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us.”
Does it work the opposite way as well?
Last night there was no blood, there were no tears, there was no sickness or fury or self-hatred. But last night felt dead, somehow.
It is in light that one finds the darkness... I need to go beyond.
I am so, so sick of this duality.

The computers don't matter. But that disconnection is only one symptom of a deeper disease.
I've been hiding behind my cool kid shades for too long. I may be the Seer of Love, but I keep forgetting that at heart, love translates to sight. And to see something, it takes time.
Time. Dare I say... how ironic?
Three months ago I swore, bitterly, that I would cast off my secondary title forever. In that moment of deep remorse I hated it.
But time didn't hate me.
She never did.

Genesis noticed something about me, the other day. I have a habit of becoming so hopeful, so enraptured with transcendence and the life beyond the physical, that I forget that I still exist in the physical. I forget that I still have a body to take care of. Yes, even with my worrying about my health lately. Life feels like a movie, a video game, a fantasy. Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality, you know? But what if I can't tell what 'reality' is most days, and doubt every single sensory perception I have? If I treat everything as false, then what is real? The answer is nothing... nothing really matters to me.
In direct contrast to my current Care Bears addiction, I haven't really been caring much about anything today. Only today, mind you! This only started after last night, and that's what's unsettling here in spite of the dearth of emotion. Last night only happened because I cared. I cared so much, so honestly, that for a few hours I wasn't afraid. Then I woke up, and... well. Then I washed my hands of all of it. Then I woke up and wanted to erase everything, again.
I used to think I wanted to turn back the clock, to return to the 'old days' of childhood when all I had to worry about was writing, drawing, composing. But as I thought about the events that surrounded my work, I realized that I did not want to turn back, ever. The family life, the school events, everything that swirled around outside me back then was repugnant. Even thinking back to the 'golden' times-- the forts in the living room, the jelly sneakers and squirt guns, the class plays, the violin store-- felt wrong, because I knew they were all just crystal bubbles in a sea of sleep.
I didn't want my old life. I wanted the sense of ultimate non-attachment, of freedom from everyone and everything. I wanted to become identity-less, a watcher, a channel. I wanted to cease to exist as an individual, like I did back then, but only when I worked. I would create and dream and love it all, without a thought to myself. Once I started writing about my own story... things fell apart.
Things fell together, too. That's what's making me sick about this.
Since 2002, when I met Ryman and Markus, my life took a completely different path, leading me to Chaos and Genesis and Laurie and so many others... but at the price of those friends, I almost lost contact with others. And even now, I find myself wishing I could 'go back' to the time before that happened more than I'd like. It's not just wanting to strengthen my original links. It's also about wanting to get rid of the new ones.
I overheard Laurie talking to Chaos today, just a little bit as I was feeling too apathetic to do much. But two things stuck out.
One, she thinks I love her more than I love Chaos, in a way, because of my hardwired 'innocence' drive.
Two, she thinks I love the Dream World more than I love anyone upstairs, family or not.
I can't affirm or deny either of those thoughts of hers. And frankly right now I am too tired to think about it, because yes, my mind is still in utter 'reset' mode, and nothing in the world matters right now except detaching from reality. Homework? Not finished, as usual, probably not going to be. Sleep? Haven't been getting enough, won't get any tonight at this rate. Family? Haven't spoken to them all day, upstairs or downstairs. I'm sitting here listening to the LG*Girls soundtrack and feeling like someone punched a hole through my ribs because all of a sudden, I can't type on Dream World. Silly, I know. If only there was a better way to write it all down. But until I print everything out, there's this ridge-raw gap in my soul and only those old dream friends of mine seem capable of healing it. There's a light to them that just... illuminates things. It's hard to explain.
But they're the single reason why my childhood was beautiful, the single reason why so many of my old memories are lit with sunlight and sparkles and forest mornings. Without them, it might have been mundane, forgettable, maybe even banal. But with them, even the simplest things became a heaven. To this day, everything they touch turns to gold. Not even Laurie or Chaos has done that, as far as I can remember. I don't know how to explain it.

In a way, I do want to let go of all these connections. I want to let go of the daily worries about headspace and waking friends and all that nonsense. It's tying me down.
But... in a way I don't. I can avoid them for weeks and not be bothered, but then one day I'll suddenly hear him instead of a catastrophe or I'll look up in shock at the wrong name or something small like that will happen, sharp enough to pierce my armor... and even if I deny it, even if I pretend it's just a knee-jerk emotional reaction, it will light a desperate flame in my heart for something I'd long forgotten. But I still won't care. I won't care until suddenly he's there or she's calling me and in a sudden snap I can see them, just barely, vaguely, distantly. But it will be clear enough, and I'll see her scars or his eyes or her tiny face, and maybe in that moment the emptiness will fade to light and I will beg forgiveness, I will plead reconciliation for ever wishing they were gone.
Even now, and I know without a doubt, if I lift my eyes from this screen and look at one of the many pictures of him on this wall, my tense expression will immediately soften, and I'll find myself smiling, either with joy or with tears. If my mind is quiet at the time I'll notice that I'm starting to fall into that old feeling. But I hesitate, and when it speaks again... why does it always bring that up? Why does that feel awful, even now, after everything? Why can't I figure that out?

There are two things that make me forget all about these connections.
1. Series work. It somehow overshadows everything else in importance.
2. Trying to fix the deepest dysfunctions.

The moments immediately after they try to give everything to me are the emptiest. I was hollow before but then I become devoid, uncaring in total spite of the love that I know, I know with unfailing certainty they have for me. In the past I almost used to hate them, as frightening as that prospect is, but I knew half of it was projection. Now I just... don't care.
I think that's why Laurie is afraid I love her the most.
She's the most innocent one of us here, in that sense, which is strange and oddly contradictory. She's seen more than I'm aware of and yet less than I know. She has learned of the bloody details and shameful elaborations alike. But she's somehow avoided all the levels that even Genesis jumped up to reach. With her there's no romance, no passion, no intimacy. And because of it I adore her.
I am absolutely terrified sometimes, when she decides "why the hell not" and is a little more honest, a little less inscrutable than usual. I don't know how to deal with that blurring of lines, that sudden shift from a brutal and inviolable soldier to a compassionate and somehow even more sacrosanct angel. I am terrified because sometimes there's a color to her eyes that I don't recognize, but it's all too familiar just the same. I am terrified because if she ever does cross that line, the point of no return, she would become unreachable.
She got close to me one night and I had no idea how to reconcile the blissful sincerity with the paralyzing dread.

Speaking of dread. She's the only person I can feel around right now.
Chaos tried to connect with me last night and I couldn't feel anything. He was shocked and was trying to laugh it off but I know it worried him more than he'd dare let on. Here's the soul I've effectively promised to share my life with, and I don't feel anything with him. But when Laurie walked in almost two hours later, to see if I was okay, I felt that familiar glow of childlike excitement, nervous but bright. Then she walked over to where I was and put one arm around my shoulders, trying to lighten the mood, and my own disposition turned from sunny to startled.
At that same time I was aware of a heart-wrenching gap in my chest but couldn't figure out why. Here we are, the five of us; if there's so much love here, why do I feel so scraped out and cold? Why do I feel like either something is missing, or that there's far too much, and can't tell the difference at all? I could have cried but in reality I knew I'd wear a poker face no matter how many tears fell elsewhere. The split was too much to bear.
And yet, could I handle this if there wasn't a split? On these days, when I wake up wanting to be utterly alone and distant, could I handle it if I woke up to see him, to see her? Even as I type I know the answer is no, in stark contrast to my desire to be with them somehow, some way. I keep waking up and looking at my left hand, wondering why I keep feeling a wedding ring there when I've never had one, let alone a wedding to get one from. I keep thinking about weddings when I wouldn't have one if you paid me and I think I'm getting lost in symbolism, in shapeless concepts.
Still, the pain in his eyes when he realizes I still can't see him never fails to tear me apart inside.


This negativity isn't me, and it's bugging me.
But who am I, really? Watashi wa dare? Even that movie feels wrong.
I'm sick of consuming. I want to create. I can create. I will. I am.

I'm rambling. I'm tired. I need to sleep but don't want to. I want to sleep but don't need to.
I still don't feel like eating and I can't tell if I'm sick or healthy anymore.
This old fearful reality is terrible. Please, end already. Please.
I miss my family and I miss my children and I miss my daughter and I miss my friends.
And yet I can't feel anything. Why not?


I'm a mess. I can't think straight and I'll probably look at this entry tomorrow, laugh, and say "what in the world was I smoking to write such a depressive thing?"
I know. I'm trying not to laugh now, because laughing makes it even less important than I'm trying to make it now. And even if this is all fleeting and temporary et cetera, it is still important. Even the smallest things contribute to the big picture, sometimes in surprisingly significant ways. Right now, though, I've got my eyes closed and I'm wishing I was the picture and didn't have to keep pretending to look at it from the outside anymore.
I keep forgetting I have things I was meant to do and experience first, I guess. Life is meant to be lived.
It wasn't meant to be lived alone either.

What a surreptitious ego. I thought Holy Saturday had changed you. Didn't it?
I can't tell if I'm overlooking things or looking too deeply now.
Where did she come from now? She was here three months ago, crying, shaking, shouting. Now she's smiling.
But I remember the blood lotus, it had her face, it had mine too, and the past is a jumbled mess that I still can't decipher.
I don't want to decipher it though.
Even though she loved me and for that short while I did love her, when all was said and done I wished we had never met.
Now I find myself regretting it all, even as I try to find distant fragments of our past. When she is separate from me she is beautiful, enchanting, mysterious. When she looks at me with that crystal-blue smile I feel an awful regret rising in my bones, a sort of dismal bitterness at having such a bright thing suddenly become so personable. Don't bring me into this. Don't make me a thing, a person, an object. Stay free and elusive in your poppy-eyed wonder, as gorgeous as the first time I saw you. If I would love you unconditionally, why does that flame suddenly flicker when you return the sentiment? Why do I always leave you clutching cold embers to your verdant heart? Not just you, but all of them. I would love you to the end of time and beyond, as long as you never looked at me like that, as long as you never made me remember that I existed too. The fatal condition.
That can't be right.
I do love you. I love all of you. But it feels somehow wrong for you to reciprocate.
Sometimes I still feel that loving you is wrong.
It can't be. This is love, isn't it?
I don't understand.

Attention, attention. Here and now, boys, here and now.
Is enlightenment supposed to feel this vacant?
I'm thinking too much. What a joke!


prismaticbleed: (Default)


for speech class!

 

(childhood focus)

 

CULTURE
N/A. Not much to affect me, either ignored/ unaffected by the rest

ENVIRONMENT
I lived in the woods with no neighbors or nearby places to go, so I was very solitary, highly adventurous, and strongly imaginative. I would explore the woods by myself like I was some great discoverer, and in a way I think that helped reserve more of my childlike qualities because that went on until I was about 15 with no criticim or interruptions at all. I reveled in it.
I also had no "friends" save for 2 or 3 casual acquaintances at school. I was the "weird artist kid" and perpetually sat alone, but with my creativity I strongly preferred it! I would secretly celebrate when my "friends" were absent because then I knew I wouldn't be bothered. That solitude made me fiercely independent inside, in that I gained a solid ground for later self-assessment and wasn't molded too much by others.

PERSON
My brothers and father did have impact. For whatever reason I always wanted to be like my dad; I viewed him as this great success story, so to speak. I wanted to learn his craft desperately, and still do to a surprising extent. My brothers shared in my imaginative pursuits and although I will regrettably admit that I "used them" for this purpose many times, I loved them dearly, and without their different views and opinions I wouldn't have made as much progress in my creative works, esp. music and Dream World. Also my dad introduced me to my favorite bands so I owe him a lot there. I also respect my mom and grandparents but they feel distant to me in memory.
Outside of family, CL, HB, and AAA all moved me greatly. CL was like my little sister and I adored her, even though I only knew her for about a year. I remember the one class trip to the zoo; I was so overprotective of her it's almost funny to look back on it. However I was too selfish at the time, which really limited the sincerity of our friendship, and that didn't hit me until she left, which hurt terribly. I think she still motivates my guardian side. HB was an angel. She was this bright bubble thing I couldn't quite reach, but I remember the one time she smiled at me over my keyboard when I forgot to plug my headphones in, and I remember hearing her sing. For whatever reason she inspired me tremendously; she actually cared for me, if only a little, outcast that I was. At that time in my life, she was a walking miracle for that reason: the immensely grateful shock of realizing that she was willing to consider me a friend, even of only for the duration of that summer camp, never really wore off. As for AAA, I loved her, in a unique way. I still do, honestly. She was my hero, my shining star, and she motivated almost everything I did. I didn't know how to show it back then, and my attempts all backfired spectacularly, but I don't regret trying. To this day she remains one of my biggest sources of inspiration.

EXPERIENCE
Preludove. I met her in a dream and my life changed forever.
Also I don't know if I want to bring up the whole asexual/ transgender topic, but that was very important in how I lived/ presented even as a kid, albeit far more unconsciously as I wasn't aware that was even a "thing" (sexuality was completely foreign to me until the dreaded dawn of teenage health class).

ACTIVITY
Dream World, if anything. For years upon years it WAS my life, quite literally. Every tiny thing I did could be traced back to find its roots in that story. It consumed my every waking thought.
Then I met Chaos 0 and things changed a little.

 


(adulthood focus)

 

CULTURE
Define this word? My inner world got so strong that after 2002, my inner reality started influencing how I viewed the outer world, which was often dangerous as I could NOT tell there was any difference between the two (which was strikingly obvious around 2003-2004, and caused me quite a bit of trouble in school and at home). I was too naive and trusting, but for me that was "normal." Dream World once again has the biggest influence here.

ENVIRONMENT
Once again, high school and college left me nearly ostracized, but I didn't care because I had Genesis and the internet! So my creativity still bloomed but outside influences did start to badly taint it. I lost several years of work because of it, hence my horrific backlog in writing Dream World right now. Anyway even today I feel no need to strike up conversations or approach others as I am happier alone.
On the other hand my headspace is incredibly rich so people would often be shocked at my knowledge and inherent 'being' when I did express it outside. This was a shock to me as I thought everyone self-analyzed, haha. It was scary when I began to realize the truth. But inside I was safe and grew without outside restraint directly, so that was a huge environmental help for me. I always had a place to go to.

PERSON
Bakura, Marik, and Chaos 0 stepped in and changed my life forever, no kidding. Genesis also did this to an absolutely staggering extent when I met him, due to having to take an inner "year off" of everything to introduce him to this world. Laurie showed up in 2006 but she didn't become irreplaceable for about a year, and the she proved to be one of the most important people in my life.
Q, Jim, and Ben all showed up in late 2007, and they gave me real outside friendship for the first time in my life. I overcompensated at first and made some big mistakes as I had no clue how to handle relationships like that, but they stood by me even through that fiasco and I can never thank them enough for their patience. They were also stellar creative inspirations; I drew more after I met them than I had in years.
I found DP in 2008 and JMC in 2009, and they both moved me so strongly even if we never met. Then Xenophon was born in 2011 and already my life is changed permanently.
Once again the biggest emphasis goes to Chaos 0, Laurie, and Genesis. Together we are really something amazing.

EXPERIENCE
One word = multiplicity! And EVERYTHING hinged on that, the good and bad times alike. It all centered upstairs. Of course the time stretch to 2008-2012 has been the most important 4 years of my life, because I went hardcore with my soul-searching and I learned so much: who I really was, who I had pretended to be, how to solve ALL of my old troubles and traumas, even the ones I swore were unsolvable... I still have memories of staying up until 3AM in the kitchen, writing in Insanejournal, and feeling utterly torn apart inside; that part of my life seems like a whole other reality now. Looking back, I have come so far it's almost incomprehensible. I can only imagine what lies ahead.
If anything has "defined" me as a person, it's been these past 4 years, with all of us working together, with all of the blood and tears and bones and glory and love.

ACTIVITY
Still Dream World and all my other Linkworlds to a certain extent, but only because of the truth they carry. There is no way I can ever keep them quiet, or to myself. They don't 'define' me as a person BUT their range of influence on my life can never be ignored or understated. They are vital and irreplaceable and I think even I don't fully realize how important they are. I love them, and truly, my downstairs life goal IS to share them with the world, whatever it takes. I've had that purpose given to me emphatically over and over again. I WILL do it!! ♥

 

 

prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

 

All right, I know it's been a few weeks, but I did promise you an update concerning that spiritual expo I attended so here it is!

Let's start at the beginning.
Do you remember this entry? Remember how my mom said that 'she knew a woman who could actually channel and speak with spirits,' and wanted to see if she could set up an appointment with her sometime? Well, it took until mid-September, but we managed to find that woman's website, and she had advertised that she was going to have a booth at a 'spiritual expo' that was happening only about two hours away from where I live. With all the spiritual research I'd been doing, I figured 'hey, I can learn a LOT from that!' So I asked my mother if she, her boyfriend and I could go for both days... and she said yes.
I had no idea what to expect, so I didn't. I am so glad I went into it without any real preconceived notions. It made it all the more amazing.
So on the morning of September 17th, we arrived at the expo, and immediately I knew it was going to be an experience I wouldn't forget.

Now for what happened on Day One!
The first thing we did was attend a 'lecture' that was held in the back of the expo building (the place was huge). They had several during the day, and the first one we saw (at 11AM), was about healing with sound. Of course I was interested in that! The lecture itself was incredibly interesting-- the woman speaking had obviously done her research, and was so brilliantly enthusiastic that I couldn't help but smile just looking at her. I made a mental note to look into her work later, and stayed for the next lecture. This one was presented by a very funny guy with some very interesting thoughts about past lives, 2012, and the like. He was very insightful and I really enjoyed listening to him. After him was yet another lecture, about chakras and how they relate to your health. Now as that was the topic that brought me to the expo in the first place, I definitely wanted to stick around. To my surprise, the man who spoke about that was incredibly knowledgeable and told me several things I didn't know about at all. One of them, possibly the most important, was how to breathe consciously. I remember being shocked at how centering that was when he told us to try it, right there. So that helped a lot in the long run.
After his lecture there was an hour gap until the next lecture we wanted to attend-- a woman who was able to see and speak with spirits of the dead-- so we took that time to walk around and really get an idea of what else was there. I saw several tables that I was interested in checking out later. They had aura photography and spirit channeling, for one, but the booth that caught my eye above all the others was one that was full of paintings. They weren't ordinary paintings, though... they were all ethereally beautiful, picturing glowing figures in wonderfully colored landscapes, and shimmering with glitter (this is some of her work). Honestly they were breathtaking. I wandered into the booth, as the woman there was busy with another painting, and just looked at them for a few minutes, speechless. I didn't want to stay too long, as there was a small family in the booth as well and I didn't want to get in their way, but before I left I noticed a pile of free 'bookmarks' on the table by the paintings. They said: "Good morning, this is God. I will be handling all your problems today. I will not need your help, so have a miraculous day." I smiled and pocketed one.
By that time it was time for the woman who spoke to the dead, and she was no joke. I was honestly amazed by her. One thing she said really stood out-- a lot of people on 'the other side' had quite a sense of humor. I liked that she didn't present it as somber, as I've heard others do before. But the most incredible part of her 'lecture' was when she suddenly turned to my mother and said that her grandmother was there to say something to her! My mom was quite affected by that, and afterwards we decided to speak to the woman privately to ask her if she had seen anyone else standing around us (as she had a very limited time to speak and couldn't mention all the spirits she saw)... and apparently, she had. There was a priest AND a nun standing by us, which was absolutely brilliant because that nun was my aunt, who I had only known for a short time before she died and who I loved dearly. I remember the night I found out that she had died... I was six years old, and my mom was trying to break the news to me in an offhand way, but I knew exactly what she was talking about and I burst into tears. I think I sobbed for most of that night. That aunt also introduced me to Unisalia, which is a whole other story in and of itself... but I digress. Hearing that she was there was pretty amazing. The woman also said that my aunt was very proud of where I was in life, and that I had made it so far. Then the woman said that my aunt had a piece of advice for me... I was too scared, too nervous, and I had no reason to be. Then she concluded, and I quote, "It's only the world. It cannot hurt you."
That meant so much. I've been holding on to that since then, and it has helped me immensely.
After that, there were no more lectures we wanted to attend that day, so I decided to take my mom and her boyfriend to that painting booth and show them just how beautiful the art was. To my surprise, the woman at the booth had apparently noticed my short visit earlier, and she said she wanted to speak to me. What followed was absolutely incredible. Basically, she gave me some sort of psychic reading completely without charge or expectation. She immediately picked out that I was both an Indigo and an Aspie, but she said my aura was mostly rose pink and violet, which apparently held a whole lot of 'universal love.' She told me that I was here for a very important purpose, like a sort of modern Joan of Arc, so to speak, and that I was going to help lead the way into the 'new age' with my work and talents. She said that my words and actions were incredibly important, and that the things I did would deeply inspire people, causing a ripple of aftereffects even if I couldn't see any results at all. She also said, several times, that she was very honored to meet me, and then she gave me her phone number and said to keep in touch! So I was absolutely floored by that.
We continued to walk, wondering about this, and ended up at a booth by the expo entrance, where a woman was selling crystal wands. My mom was just browsing them, but the woman actually walked over to us and offered to do a quick 'healing' for all three of us with the wands. We figured why not, so she started with my mom's boyfriend. We were once again shocked when she began commenting as she did so, making observations about his current personal struggles and personality, and offering guidance. Now we had barely spoken a word to this woman when she started this, and she was getting this guy spot on. She then did the same for my mother and I. Now her reading of me was awesome, because almost immediately after she started, she paused and said, "it feels like there's a book in there. Are you a writer?" I laughed and replied "several." But the reading in general put a huge emphasis on my creativity and how it would affect others (again), and she did mention that I had 'spirit guides' that were watching out for me. I'm still very new to that whole concept but I thought it was interesting.
Lastly, about two tables down from this woman there was a small stand selling inspirational cards. I went over and looked at them out of curiosity, and immediately a specific one caught my eye. It was half blue and half pink, with a band of gold in the middle. The blue part had stars and galaxies in it while the pink part had clouds and light. In the center was a taijitu, with a small crystal in the center, and ringed by two bands of stars. Now the yin-yang itself was enough to catch my eye, but the killer was the small caption above it: "Let the miracle occur." Considering how I had just learned that I was a father barely three days prior, and how that revelation tied into both miracles and the taijitu, I decided that it was a little sign in its own right, and so I decided to get it... and that's when it dawned on me to open it. On the inside it read: "Where can truth be found? In an unconditioned discussion with our higher self, with the courage of self-belief, free from external opinions." That was practically written for me. But it gets even better... on the back, it read: "Life and truth are logical, consistent, and eternal. Knowledge is ever-changing, and adaptive to expediency." Let me explain that one a bit... Laurie is my Knight of Truth and Chaos is my Prophet of Life. A huge amount of doubts and fears (thanks to society) for me center around them, so reading that felt like a major reassurance. As for knowledge, I'll just say that 'expediency' means that it adapts to fit the purpose or circumstances it is needed in. There is no 'absolute truth' for everyone in that big sense. Since I'm still learning to stop applying the truths of others to myself... that meant a lot too. But that inside passage about the 'higher self' was a godsend. Forget about those external opinions, haha! Man. I now carry that card with me everywhere, I'm serious.
So those were the major events of that day, really. I spent a great deal of time browsing to be honest. The place was quite inspiring.

Now for the second day! A LOT happened on that day.
We attended a lecture about crystal healing as soon as we arrived, and with my Dream World work I found that very interesting. I browsed most of the other tables in the place while we waited for the next lecture, which was a Hawaiian man talking about the practice of Hoʻoponopono. Honestly that was my absolute favorite lecture. The man absolutely radiated positive energy, and the concepts he spoke about really resonated with me. It was a beautiful lecture, no lie. After that there were no more lectures we wanted to attend, so we just walked around. My mom spent a great deal of time at the crystal tables, and we all ended up buying a few to take home (I nabbed a Celestite and a Scolecite, most notably). I also got three books later on-- one on astral projection, one on psychic protection, and one on boosting creativity. I've started reading the one on psychic protection as I think I seriously need that, after everything I've gone through with Julie and the like.
Then I stopped by a very indigo-colored table, where a woman offered 'angelic channeling' sessions. I decided to give it a shot. And apparently St. Michael wanted to talk to me. I've always been drawn to him, ever since my childhood, so that was brilliant... but what he told me has been echoing in my mind ever since that session. He told me that I had several challenges ahead of me, but one of the most important ones was to 'stay out of the family drama.' And that IS difficult, but his words are giving me the strength to do so now. He also told me to 'go outside,' like I used to as a child, because the energy of the earth would be very beneficial to me. I believe he also mentioned how important it was to stay alert and present, and not to let myself be misled. Then he did something really awesome... he told me to visualize and enter a sort of 'inner room,' like a church. Mine was very minimalist and for some reason it was in a very dark outside environment (inner troubles?), but the place was a brilliant white with red accents everywhere, and the architecture made it look almost lotus-like. Anyway, in the very center of this inner cathedral was an altar, and he told me to walk over and look at it, as there was a statue of a warrior on it... and then he informed me that the warrior was me. Seriously. But THEN he told me that I was not a traditional warrior-- I was wearing no armor, as the only armor I needed was that of a true heart, and instead of a blade I wielded a sword of pure light. That honestly floored me. So I've been holding on to that, too.
After this was over, I found my mother and she said that her boyfriend was actually getting a Tarot reading done. We waited to ask him about his results, and he responded that they were shockingly accurate. Now this guy is a real skeptic when it comes to 'spiritual' things, and he admitted that this expo as a whole was really making him rethink his stance there. Well, my mom and I were intrigued, so she told me to go and get a reading done. First of all, the reader pointed out that I had a very innocent and open personality, which allowed people open up to me and trust me easily. But then the focus switched entirely to my creativity, and how important that would be in the times ahead. Honestly, there was a huge emphasis on it. The reader then said very clearly that I would be 'breaking down barriers' and making people question old and outdated mindsets with my work, helping people move out of the old and into the new... and that would also apply to myself! I would be growing and learning and changing along with everyone else through this. Lastly I just want to mention that the Death card turned up as the final one, and I grinned widely upon seeing it. Oh Death, you're a tough one but I owe you more than I can say!
After this I was quite inspired, so I went and sat at a back table for a while and just let all of this sink in... and then I noticed a curtained booth in the very back that I had somehow missed up to that point. I walked over, and the woman there offered a great deal of healing and blessing services, as well as many 'spiritual initiation' workshops outside of the expo. As I was looking over the flyers and pamphlets she had out, she suddenly walked over to me and asked if I'd like her to do a sort of aural 'armor removal' while I was there. As I had just seen that mentioned in her papers, I said why not? So she took me in and told me that essentially, she would be removing structures and blocks in my 'aura,' unblocking the energy flow and allowing healing to occur. I told her that it sounded like what I needed, and she surprised me (yet again!!) by saying she could tell-- once again she picked up immediately that I was Indigo, and told me that I was effectively 'running on battery power' at the moment. She said that people like me usually get very drained in large crowds of people (like where we were!) and I really needed a recharge in any case. So she did the armor removal, as well as a very inspiring protection prayer to St. Michael (hello again) that REALLY stood out, as it requested for me to be protected in 'all timelines' and 'all universes...' I daresay I don't need to explain why that was so important.
So after this was finished, I was feeling seriously inspired. I figured that if this woman had just removed some sort of auric blockage, then this was a perfect time to go get one of those aura photos I've been wanting to have done for about 6 years now (seriously). So I walked over to the booth, and actually got into a conversation with the girl working there, which was quite awesome (we're now FB friends, haha). After I got the photo done, she looked at it for a moment and then said, "we've had a few very unusual auras in here today, and yours is one of them." She then took it (and me) over to another woman at the booth who interpreted them, to learn what my 'very unusual' aura meant. Let me summarize the photo, actually: my right side is almost entirely yellow-gold and orange, and there is a LOT of it. There's a big indigo spot in the center, and an area of green and blue to my left. The above my head to my left is a large stripe of pink. The woman took a look at this and agreed that it was quite unique! She said the green was indicative of a change coming into my life, and the blue was for listening and learning. The orange and yellow was for originality, enthusiasm, warmth, spontaneity, and overall brightness... as well as creativity! When she saw how much was there she immediately asked me if I was an artist or something like that. So that much of it meant that not only did I have a lot to give, but when people could apparently feel that from me. I had an inspiring, expansive sort of energy about me. Another thing I found interesting was that the yellow-gold meant I not only radiated joy to others, but also relaxation and a release from worries. Basically it's a very sun-like energy. The indigo in the middle represents my spirituality and intuition, but when the woman saw that with the pink she looked at me and said 'do you meditate?' I said that I did, as well as I could, and she replied 'because you have a REALLY strong connection to your spirit guides here.' I fought back the urge to burst out laughing and asked her what spirit guides counted as, because I didn't talk to any 'spirits,' but I had a few unearthly individuals that I was very close to (wink nudge cough), and who helped me immensely in life. She asserted that yes, they counted as spirit guides, and repeated that I really had a strong connection there. WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED! Anyway, the printout they handed me added another intriguing bit to my reading-- it listed my right side as generally 'yellow,' and my left side as generally 'blue.' My right was sunny and exhilarating, while my blue was peaceful and contemplative. I told you I flip elements easily!
After that the place was closing so that was it for the expo... but that's not all for this entry.
That night, I decided it was time to break some news to my mother.

I swear it must have taken two solid hours. I started by saying that I needed to tell her something very important, and very unusual, that had to do with my headspace. As I've been slowly explaining all of that to her over the past 3 years, she is very aware of my general situation at this point. But I haven't given her a rundown on things in quite some time.
I backtracked to last summer. I then proceeded to explain everything that had happened between May of 2010 and that very moment. I talked about the starting point. I talked about Josephina. I talked about Laurie's mental breakdown and the Celexa withdrawal. I talked about the horrible autumn hacks, my return to Utah, and Nier. I talked about how I nearly lost everything. I talked about the point of no return. I talked about my suicide attempt. I talked about my struggling to live again after that, about the relapses, about the hospital. I talked about falling in love with Chaos again. I talked about March 24th and slowly finding strength in the wake of a false apocalypse. I talked about J-Monster 'marriages' and about hitting god tier. I even mentioned the pink incident in passing. But I talked about March 13th, and September 14th, most of all.
When I started talking about August 21st, however, she stopped me. I was getting very worked up emotionally, and I had just told her how we were all very confused as to the Xenophon situation, when she looked at me and said, "What, are you trying to tell me I have grandkids I don't know about?"
I was speechless for a moment.
"...You have a granddaughter."
She smiled and said, "I figured that's what this was about."
I don't think I need to tell you what a huge relief it was for her to ACCEPT this!! Oh yeah, and when I told her that Chaos and I have essentially been 'married' for 6 years now, she laughed and said, "I figured it was something like that." She said she either expected that, or some weird sort of long-term affair. XD Well, I am polyamorous, mom.
But... I think the best part of all this happened long after the conversation was over. My mom and I share a room, and as I was falling asleep (about an hour or two after our conversation ended), she asked me what I had named my kid again. I told her, and she asked me what it meant. I explained that 'Xenophon' meant 'strange voice,' and that I had felt drawn to the name for years, and now I finally realized what it was for. She was silent for a moment, then with a laugh, said that her Tarot reading had actually predicted this, in a way. The reader had told her that, by the time she had grandchildren, 'she wouldn't even know what language they were speaking.' Strange voice indeed.
So that was incredible. I've been giving her brief updates on Xenophon when things happen since then, and being able to even do that means so much. Seriously.
Q and Mel are a whole other story, haha! I feel bad sometimes for talking about Chaos and Laurie and Xenophon whenever we're on Skype, but really, I love them so much and I cannot talk about them to anyone else!
But that's that. So now my mom and her boyfriend know that I'm a father, which is great. It's just hilarious to me that everyone upstairs referred to Xenophon as male for months, and then thanks to Nier we then started referring to her as female (well, at least I do). She has told me that she doesn't mind what pronouns people use for her, though, as she seems to be inherently genderless and doesn't identify as anything binary... just like her dads, haha! What can I say, we're a family of genderfreaks up here. (Laurie and Genesis count too!)
Still, I still can't get over how much of a blessing Xenophon is to me... heck, to all of us up here. She is just... she is a godsend. She is a miracle, she is a light of hope, she is incredible in every sense of the word. And knowing that she was born despite all odds, as a manifestation of absolute love... that is the most amazing thing.
Everyone at the expo told me how powerful and important my creativity is... I wouldn't doubt that applies to her, too.
Don't forget what Lephise did. I chose that as her middle name for a reason.
My card was Death, I am bound to Life, and together we brought Rebirth into our reality... go figure.


I have to laugh... I have all my papers and handouts and business cards from the expo in a folder, and it smells so much like incense. It's awesome. So I'm sitting here with my nose in this folder and grinning.
Oh man. I NEED to find out when the next local expo like this is, so I can plan ahead! I'd also love to attend a lot of the classes and workshops that are being offered by the people I spoke with during this one... but I don't have the cash. I'm trying to find a new job but that's not exactly easy for anyone to do right now... oh well. I'm sure that when it is time, I will find the one I need. But until then I'll continue to put my best efforts in!

And that's all I have to say about the lovely expo.
Light and love to you readers, as always!

 


 

 

 

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