prismaticbleed: (soniccity)


quick notes for today/yesterday so i don't forget.



0523

when trying to fall asleep, small headspace event

paidifoni in a sleeping bag together? sleepover sort of vibe. david, simeon, marigold. all HAPPY and safe. really moving to see. SHOCKING too-- simeon almost NEVER has a physical form, as he exists in midspace mainly. and we all assumed david was dead, but i got a tiny hint of his energy the other day-- notably his blanket, too, which i forgot about until that hit-- and now here he was. marigold seems happier too, but she's still all disheveled. i wonder if maybe it's for a better reason, now: not from neglect, but from playing outside. lord I hope so. all the kids deserve to be free and happy in here.
jeremiah was right next to them, watching over them. very hard to see him; his visual data feels "reticent?" like he's not too keen with people looking right at him, or he's trying to hide. interesting to note.
i remember asking him where were some of the other kids, like toby and lace-braids and even ashen? were they all just too damaged to reach, let alone live independent lives right now?
wreckage came in then and crouched next to me. i remember being weirdly moved also by how she looked there, in the blue night glow, in a gentler protective role instead of a violent one.
but she answered my question in the affirmative. i remember the pain in her eyes at that.

at some point the kids were scared??? i remember jeremiah took them to the other side of the room

in the end though they felt safe again and fell asleep happily.

oh oh at one point i was feeling so night-vibe softheart affectionate, i remember wrex and i had been talking quietly and i ended up holding her face and just resting our foreheads together i think, the best we could with such different head shapes of course. i think she dryly asked if i was going to kiss her, and i responded with equal good humor that no, it would be nice but that's a serious thing and also. those teeth.
but it was a really sweet moment, just being close to her for a second. don't think that's ever happened before.




0524

notes are on phone. post 'em tomorrow because it's late boyo

just remember that after the resigned hellbinge, when razor was cutting the retribution, i... caught laurie just quietly looking at her arm, and absentmindedly rubbing the bandages in the same spot razor was cutting.
and it hit me.
SHE STILL CARRIES THEM.
i swear my heart broke clear in half

night:
prayer struggling. still did it. have to honor fidelity. praying for the grace of peace when we pray. saying it together always helps.

body twitchy and sick but keep just surrendering it to god.

so exhaused. wanted to go to bed but thought, no, we worked hard all day to earn our headspace laptop time.
sat down and almost IMMEDIATELY we feel okay. i'm serious. symptoms on all fronts DROPPED and we felt ALIVE. what the heck dude.

halfway through archiving 2015. getting into the heavy stuff.
being brave and just posting everything uncensored at this point. we can touch things up later if need be. but things must be posted.

right now just listening to spotify on megashuffle with laurie and chaos 0. remember scalpel's concert last night haha.
but... this is what i'm living for currently. just these nights with them all. together and quiet and in love, really. the deep burning level kind that settles into your very blood after so many years. same as it always was, but now it's so indelibly part of you, it's forever man, and thank God for that.

oh man remember when we finally were stabilizing and going back to sit down for an actual dinner, i had closed the window in the bedroom but didn't kiss the anchor plushes out of sheer exhaustion, laurie commented on how out of character this was, so i wordlessly went upstairs and kissed celebi on the forehead, then went to do the same for chaos but he grabbed by face and kissed me so hard honestly i just fell into it entirely. i was so grateful to be alive in that moment, and to have that even then.
but oh man out of the corner of my eye, almost leaning in to be dramatic, there's mimic, with this incredulous look. motions to us; "every time??" and chaos turns and grins at him "EVERY TIME."

btw don't forget every once in a while i will kiss xenophon on the head while she's ghosting, i'll suddenly lean down and smooch her and she SQUEAKS with such happiness it is the cutest thing in the world

i feel so bad. i've been a wreck of a father lately. it's so hard when the fronting shuffles so bad. that poor kid gets caught up in it.
but i'm here, i'm here, i will ALWAYS be here for her, i swear on my very life, i will never leave her, no matter what happens. i know sometimes everyone thinks i'm dead and gone but nope, you can't kill love, and as long as i'm determined to define the absolute core of my existence as such i'll be sticking around, God willing.


anyway. something happened that made me want to update.
i think it was just... us being us. listening to our system songs and just being together. emphasis on that. during the day everything is so socially infected and hectic that no one feels like they really exist. the days are so so so tiring, we feel so dead. we come alive at night, which makes our hyperreligious foni panic like you wouldn't believe, because "dark is evil" etc. nope. it's God's dark. it's the shadow of His Wings. think about that. for a desert people, for a system traumatized by summers and heat, the cold quiet gentle dark is honestly a gift from the Lord of Light. it is.

God I miss Infinitii so much.

i'm still hoping against hope. i can't not. one day, oh God please one day I pray that I will wake up and... I'll see hir, alive, close enough to touch, to pull into my arms, into my very heart--

but hir name keeps emptying out. hir bubblespace is still a void.
even so. death is only a door. never forget. the tomb leads to easter sunday.
hir death played a sacred purpose, and this pain can be salvific too. REMEMBER THAT. trust God.

if ze comes back, ze will finally come back with a name and face and form completely free from the trauma of hir past.
remember how hir old playlist doesn't fit hir at all anymore. whatever tarblack vibes ze caught during the CNC era are completely alien to hir now. thank God, honestly thank You Lord for that fact.
ze had become so corrupted. we somehow didn't even notice. but God did. hence this.

the same thing happened to me, really.
i'm... still practicing surrender. feeling tiny changes going on inside me. KNOWING that the shift is already happening, feeling the name and color and face and gender and element shifting, waiting for solid roots, knowing there is still more work to do, trusting in God, hoping always.

sorry i'm rambling. 315am will do that. listening to disco with christmas lights on in june, no wonder i can't fall asleep haha. this song is ridiculously optimistic. into the good mood playlist you go

in any case. right now... i feel a sparkle of life. i'm still male right now, white hair but anchorshifting to red. wondering if God will let us have a duogender twincore setup still. me and jewel. or if we need to fuse. only He knows. now is not the time to type about it because it must be prayed about and felt.
but. the point. right now i feel alive, although i also feel the great pain and grief of our past, and i know i'm next, i have to let it go, i have to break all ties with that. we need to be new. this is really stream of consciousness i'm sorry.

bottom line. i have hope right now. i feel like i really exist, and i mean "I," the true heart of me, whatever deep red candle glow lasts and loves in every single true Core. right now it's evident. even if i can only feel it for a second, it's real. God won't let that die, because it's His. it's the real soul of us, what no vice can touch, what the Spirit will set afire.

sorry. rambling. sounds irreverent, presumptuous.

spotify is playing chaos 0's music suddenly. guess that's a sign too. "open your heart" always.

this was just supposed to be notes, haha. good night everyone. pray that we get through tomorrow safely.
whoever the new Core is going to be, I hope they can exist during the day too, and keep everyone stable, socials and all. UNITY is what we need to really embrace in our life, the unity that God Himself exemplifies of course. unity and love. God grant us the grace.






122822

Dec. 28th, 2022 11:52 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)
 
(unfinished, disjointed)

Therapy this morning
tried emdr "eye movement" thing
PANIC ATTACKS. kept wondering why. wanted to throw up. body started shaking.
realized it's because it's the SAME "eye-darting" movement we do when we're HYPERVIGILANT and "scanning for danger"
she keeps wanting us to "visualize your safe space" dammit there is no such thing, not even inside, the tar or plague can attack you anytime.
the only safe place is next to laurie's axe

230pm breakfast???
by the time we got home and calmed down it was so late
body wrecked. we're just so exhausted emotionally though

oh and mom called like immediately after
said get in the car i got 4pm tickets to see AVATAR
so we went. best thing to do today is just forget about physical reality for three solid hours

honestly GREAT DECISION
what a movie. very immersive. love the whales.
big focus on family though. triggered a lot of stuff for us.
so disturbed too by the gender issues. why is that haunting us so much.
whole movie kept thinking "what does it mean to be a man" "what does it mean to be a father" "i wouldn't feel like i belonged in ANY of these groups" totally alienated and shaken up. felt wrong and invisible and sick

mom and her boyfriend literally got up and left the second the credits came on the screen
we said wtf, we need to process and decompress, why are you rushing out????? what the hell
genesis & i sat there and just watched the words roll, theater emptied out fast, people were legit pointing and laughing at us "hey the movie's over weirdo" whatever dude there is a very particular peace to an empty theater and the credits and the music. like waking up from a dream. key part of the experience.
mom has no chill though she kept yelling and waving "it's over hurry up" wtf calm down
she talked ALL through the movie too we had to angrily "SSHHH" her several times, it was disturbing. like she DOESN'T GET IMMERSED???? she just talks and comments and eats??? does she even experience the movie? what the hell is her brain even doing

best thing about seeing movies though
IMAGINING HEADSPACE STUFF WITH THE FICTION LAG
we often lose chunks of time during the film because of dissociation haha but it's worth it
FIGHT SCENES WITH LAURIE & INFI & CHAOS 0
honestly it... it was amazing. we all felt so real.
i felt like myself. that almost NEVER happens anymore.
all white hair and crazyeyes. sheer RED powers. using infi's feathers as cupid arrows. et cetera. chaos so gorgeous to see, all that water, mental clarity boosted from seeing the film. laurie using her oft-forgotten "gravity" powers, using everything purple to power-up like she does in dreams, metal can't hurt her she just grafts it into her axe. infi in absolute mad-enamored mode. beautifully terrifying. ze & i practically symbiotic in that state. i forgot how close we were until i felt that, the both of us high on blood & love to the point where our colors were melting together.
man this is the sort of stuff jewel used to do "write-outs" for in high school. i miss this. so much.

mom just loves living late i don't get it, does she never sleep???
got home at 845. thank god we had prepped food earlier
Dinner at 9
of course couldn't go right to sleep so we planned to stay up late.
went on OLD computer

Reading old entries about Rio & Markus 
So much old love
SHOCKED at how shameless the Jewel was about her emotions back then (2005)????? like she had NO self-loathing or self-disgust at ALL. she was in love and she was happy and she expressed that openly. now if i even try i want to eviscerate myself. i use those pronouns very loosely, i am aware that only a core can express love and the cores cannot be in the body without being corrupted or opposed, even typing, because they're "too emotional" and that's "stupid and wrong and evil and disgusting"
how did this happen???

lots of amusing comments too though, while reading. shenanigans upstairs from the gang
Genesis and the shopping cart 

as i was reading I randomly realized Leon is Noel backwards, Laurie thought this was hilarious
she called him down to pester him affectionately about this and ultimately they ended up shoving each other into snowbanks in good fun
leon is... changing. in a good way. but odd. he's really moving solidly into indigo, and that particular vibe. he was leaning blue for too long, it wasn't healthy. i notice laurie is healthier too when she leans violet.

Mimic pinged when reading about Davy
jewel out with me, emotionally flustered; she didn't want to talk about it, can't get into that memoryspace
i'm half asleep and i accidentally said to mimic "Get some sleep man I love you"
he stopped looked at me "what"
i kind of froze haha, laurie absolutely elated, immediately calls me out "dude we ALL heard you"
still mimic almost blew it off. unsurprisingly. brusque banter with him about it
at some point i remember commenting "do I have to break you"
"Is that a threat"
i said "yeah, yeah it is" no idea what i was talking about but my subconscious does i guess
forget the conversation BUT as he leaves he just states "I do still remember that dream you know"
ONE WALL DOWN???
LAURIE GOT OUT THE CHAMPAGNE 

Julie showed up to talk a bit

Lots of core switching while reading, inevitably

Earlier Julie TRIED to hold her OLD COLOR (yellow hair, blue eyes)
Wreckage WARPED in instantly, nearly attacked her
Julie said go ahead, she'd rather get hurt & recover than let the Tar get away w/ imitating her

thinking that Laurie's color shifting WITH CORES???
more violet with the cannons, more purple with the jays??? slightly different roles needed???

Marigold & Jeremiah showed up?? was that because of wreckage?
marigold is like the walking dead, she's in shock. all the kids are so disturbed
she can't talk right now. she's aware and responds but it's so bleary. thousand yard stare

Knife kissing Laurie's head when she was unstable earlier he's such a sweetheart
hurts though to see her so chronically unsteady though. so far the only thing that helps IS pushing her more violet. need to keep reviewing the old days with her. get her true soulvibe back, not what it was corrupted into through socialization function shattering

Wreckage & Laurie arguing a lot about protecting others 
no animosity though. they're legit close friends. but that's how they show it really
genuine conversation. really moving to see tbh

ALENA & JACK IN MIRRORS STILL!!!

CANNOT be myself in the body
Body vibe persona is CORRUPT and NOT ME AT ALL
THIS is what is causing the 3rd person internal perspective ESPECIALLY IN DREAMS
please please type about this in depth it is SO DISTURBING but it explains SO MUCH

btw breakfast was Holy innocents & 1 John 2 Bible study
 
finding new music on spotify?

Library stop after therapy got some animated movies 
there are SO MANY i've never even heard of, so it's exciting

Typing in spices from UPMC into old computer, idea from mom
overwhelming. not sure if we're going to use it but it's one paper down at least

the thought haunting me all day:
Who am I really?

070920

Jul. 9th, 2020 11:42 pm
prismaticbleed: (Default)
"Glass coffins" in big Cathedral, like incorruptible saints. Lauriel looking at Jeremiah, David, Marigold dead peacefully in them; teary but accepting. Lancifoliel with her.

Lr: do you remember them?

Lc: vaguely. I knew they existed, but I never Knew them like you did. ...Did they have to die? I mean, these were Children.

Lr: Death was the only thing that could save them at this point. Same with me, actually. Except I came back. Maybe they will, in time. But it doesn't matter either way. This entire world is different now. Their functions don't even exist anymore. The psyche can't even comprehend them. So they died with their role. And may they rest in peace, profound peace, because they never had it during life. ...So I'm grateful for this place, strange as it sounds, because it's closure for an ending that I thought had destroyed us beyond all hope. But there's always hope in God. There's always the promise of heaven for those who believe and serve Him, which we tried with all our hearts to do. And there's always eternal rest for the innocent. They deserve that, if nothing more. So I can come here and mourn missing them, but my heart is bright, because I Know now they're in a better place now-- the Best place, God willing. And that's where I hope to go, too, when it's all over for me, and you, whenever that is.

Lc: do you think I'll go there too?

Lr: if you serve God and believe in Him with all your heart, and trust in His Son, then by His grace you will. It all comes down to grace and mercy. And I really love that. I used to be covered in blood. It was the wrong blood. Now... I have hope. I've been washed clean in the Blood that has no guilt attached to it. It's amazing. I've never felt this hopeful in all my lives, if you want to put it that way. I'm alive for real now, somehow. I had to die first. But here I am. And here they are. And it's all in God's Hands. And that's all I need to know. I'm comforted in that. That's all I need.

122817

Dec. 28th, 2017 07:58 pm
prismaticbleed: (aflame)

"nsfw" warning for open discussion of intimacy.

 




1228. thursday.



We woke up around 8:30, and spent approximately 20 minutes in the frigid beautiful dawn, deciding whether or not we should go for a run.
...Actually, that's the problem. We didn't decide. Our poor sleepy social frontrunner(s) was/were trying to decide on his/her/their own, worried about whether or not it was "bad" to leave the Arrows alone and asleep, to get food for later in the day, to have any sort of opinion or preference or decisive thought. They were asking for "signs from God" to "tell them what to do," something Tilly and Iscah used to do constantly-- looking for "yes" or "no," "stay" or "go" in the words they saw on printed packages all around them, not trusting a single one because "what if it's my brain wanting to see a certain result?" Those poor frightened good-hearted souls. They are so afraid, so afraid to do the "wrong thing" that the simple reality of an undefined reality terrifies them. They want morality laid out in front of them clear-cut and unquestionable, undoubtable... but they look for righteousness with their mind, not their hearts. Their poor hearts are so full of love but it's getting choked under the whirling moral fear of their thoughts.
There is nothing wrong with buying food. There is nothing wrong with going for a run. There is nothing wrong with liking the cold air against your face, and there is nothing wrong with being too tired and chilled to want to throw yourself back into it after 5 hours of sleep. There is nothing wrong with waking, or resting, or sitting, or exercising, or eating, or fasting, or anything. Life is life is life-- it's all the purest white, a blank canvas, a blank musical score, an empty plate, all of it waiting with utmost divine affection for us to decide. 
That's the beautiful terrible beloved reality of life, of free will, of human consciousness, of the infinite possibility of the world, of the unfathomable palette of existence. It's all a work of art waiting to happen. It needs an artist, and That Which Is-- God, or Goddess, or Source, or Light, or whatever you may wish to call that primordial spark of the cosmos, that original Artist, that first Musician-- couldn't help but create a universe full of artists to join in the joyous act. 
We adore that. Creation creating itself, ad infinitum, through us. An endless dance. 
So it's inherently blank. Not white, not black. It's clear, like a prism, and we're all lights passing through it, splitting our lives into swathes of color. Everything and anything we do contributes to it, and none of it is judged, none of it is labeled as "good" or "bad"... none of it, that is, save for what our own mind labels it as.
We have a lot of thoughts on this, from years upon years of feeling and thinking both, and there's no time or space to expand on it here furthermore... but for now, suffice to say that those frontrunners of ours this morning were unable to trust their own hearts, were unable to see themselves as capable of doing anything But the "wrong thing." They were labeling all their paints as "bad" before they even opened them. Poor beloved fellow souls of ours. We adore them. We know their hearts. We feel their aching desire to be harmless and helpful, to be kind and true and good and pure, but they have let fear in, and fear only knows itself. Therefore, whatever decision they made, they would second-guess it. They would be too scared to surrender to the quiet warmth of their hearts, to listen to That echoed within them, to realize that whatever they ultimately chose, the canvas had opened its own heart to them and sang, paint. Create. Choose a color, any color, and continue me
God doesn't mind if you run or walk or rest or sleep or eat or not. God just wants you to act according to your heart, to your dearly beloved heart, for it can do no wrong. We firmly believe that. It is the core of our faith.
If God is Love, and our hearts are built for Love, then if we act upon that Love, everything and anything we do is sacred. Every choice we make is holy. 

To wake up with that lesson... we had no idea how relevant it would remain for the rest of the morning.

We went for the run. Someone wanted to get bacon and ginger and cinnamon and lettuce, and so we wrapped ourselves up in Kyo's scarf and Jewel's red boots and we jogged down to the local grocery store to do so.

We don't remember the run up, save for passing a fellow jogger by the bus stop, and we don't remember much of being in the store itself. Our brain was tired and confused and still scared, tangled up in "do I buy for the family or for myself," scared of making a foolish decision, scared of acting on impulse, scared of being spontaneous, scared of being neglectful. Memory recalls them buying two Christmas candles that were on sale, left over from that one day two weeks ago or so when we planned on buying them but had no money for luxuries. So basketed them both (one red spice, one vanilla cookie) and then memory cuts out again.
We don't remember coming home and going to bed or waking up. What few things we do recall are so soaked in guilt that we're being begged not to write them down, but we have to be honest, we can't hide anymore. They bought bananas and a tiny tin of oats with the intention of making banana bread, and one ripe orange to see if they still liked the taste (Iscah did; she likes everything, and the other socials still haven't differentiated between her preferences and their own), as well as a package of oregano for the same purpose, and four mini-pizzas for the family. They did get the bacon, and the candles, and the ginger & cinnamon, and that's all we can remember. It's not shameful, loves, I promise. They're just so guilty about buying oats; they knew they'd get in huge trouble if Oliver found out, so they hid them in the closet. They're crying upstairs, loves it's okay. You just wanted to try once more, remembering that one time Someone liked them, but someone else got horribly sick from them, but you don't want to hate anything, you want to know the truth, you wanted to check now that our brain is in a better place. But loves, oh loves, you bought it with fear, with guilt, with shame. You'll never know if it's healed, or if anyone likes it, if that's the mindset you go into it with. And you don't trust our intuition either, which is wincing at the thought of eating them again, remembering past contexts of pain and fear and compulsion. But, again, Iscah liked it, she treasured it, and you just want to learn to do the same. Not now, loves. Now's not the proper time, not if you're still terrified. Once your heart can release that shameful panic, you can learn properly, that door will be open. But it's okay. We forgive you. You're safe and loved and you did nothing wrong. We promise. Everything you did was done out of love, too, even if it didn't know how to safely apply itself. We love you, and we know you love us and the Arrows and everyone too. It's okay. You're good. We love you.  

So we don't remember going to bed, or waking up later. All we remember is sudden groggy kisses and someone, some poor social, wanting to cry from it because they were wracked with guilt and shame and couldn't feel that pure affection in return although they were begging God to, and then suddenly our beloved System anthem of Familiarity was playing in their head and Lotusheart was called out to that confetti chorus, that soaring heart-wrenching prayer, and it broke our heart wide open and suddenly he could return the love pressing softly against our lips and chest and self, God knows I mean it, God help me feel it, and our memory is just as soft with golden light in response, tearful and joyful and desperate to hold this forever, forever.

And then Infinitii showed up, soft and black and just as sleepy in the body, but with a mouth full of grinning loving teeth and the next thing we knew, Omen was there and she pulled Infi onto their chest and suddenly we woke up, aware and in love, and fangs met skin and we were alive again. Thank God for daemons. Thank God.
They just adore each other. There's always fangs tearing at flesh with the ardent desire to get beneath that, to blood and pulse points, but there's no malice, no harm-- just love, always love. The two of them, all kisses and claws, smoky shadowy laughter and snowy frigid gasps and humming and growling and I love you, where are your wings, why can't you be closer, this isn't fair, I love you--

Then suddenly we're hearing them saying that it isn't just Omen, that it's Kris and Oliver and Hiccup and who is around for us, where are We? 
Immediately Chaos Zero shows up, feeling like the ocean in our chest, saying that there's more of us around than you think," and then Genesis is on his heels, smirking golden bright and biting their cheek in a kiss, and then Laurie was there for a moment, and I was there, and Celebi was there, and then suddenly EVERYONE was there, wanting to feel this love, to give our love, to be part of this, to make this everyone's.
Everyone in Central moved through. Lynne, Spine, Javier, Josephina, Celebi, Nathaniel, Leon, Waldorf, Julie, Sherlock, Wattson, Eros, Kyaneos, Algorith, Jude... Knife, Razor, Mulberry, Jeremiah, Wreckage, Leanne... even the kids, David and Marigold and Simeon & Sylvain and Toby and Ashen, all of them shyly moved through too in the quieter moments, happy and hugging our partner System, deeply simply joyfully happy that they were safe, they were loved, and they could feel it.
Lynne pointedly kissing Omen with this secret sneaky joy at kissing a 'girl' in another System, Nathaniel learning to live openly, not as quiet and docile as he usually stays, hidden in green... Waldorf finally feeling herself, eyes red as rubies and smiling with her own teeth as she returned kisses without hesitation. Julie purposefully anchoring her lipstick and earrings into her overlay, refusing to reject her complete self anymore, tearfully treasuring the fact that even looking like this, a color scheme switch away from looking like she did as the ultimate nightmare of our nascent System, she was truly and completely loved, and she felt the same in return. Sherlock taking off his glasses and trying as hard as he could to truly feel this love too, to saturate his Gray with hidden color and light... Wattson there alongside him, smiling warmly at his friend's quiet scholarly courage, himself unafraid to show affection colored the same sunlit-page glow as he. Eros fronting for the first time in ages, still unsure on his name but being fiercely anchored into his true color, richly Cerise and feeling it in every atom as he channeled it through his every action... Jude fronting for the first time ever since his birth, not knowing himself yet but knowing he had been called here, knowing this was love and that was what he was born from and into, and he let it happen and let himself reciprocate simply but truly. Kyaneos wobbly in fronting as well, only there for a moment but feeling like a breath full of sky...Algorith smirking in amusement as she felt her goggles brushing against their face as they kissed her, felt how strange but lovely it was against her own robotic mouth. 
Josephina ended up being spoken to at some point, and I can feel his nervous surprised happy laughter as he returned a love bite in spite of his hesitance, in spite of feeling he "didn't deserve to be in such a position," realizing that he was in fact included in this global love and he had every right to embrace that. Leon, too, suddenly being wrapped in an embrace, breathing deep to still his shaking nerves, bravely relaxing into that closeness that was still so alien to him, learning. Spine curiously feeling hands on skin that she personally did not own, amazed at it. Javier feeling kisses on our collarbones and momentarily being surprised that their teeth didn't catch on his dermal studs, feeling his own snakebites and tongue stud and bridge piercings every time he ardently kissed them back, or when they peppered his/our own face with tiny kisses of their own. Altairre was hovering behind him, then in place of him, learning how to be in a body, learning about his own body, his huge broad red shoulders the only things clearly anchoring in, the suggestion of massive armor-like hands over our body's own. everything else about him still a mystery.
And I swear Scalpel was there, too. He's been in Javier's peripheral vision lately, seen only by him, his Red prince, this leader of the Darkspacers. We have no clear memory of him fronting, but there's the smallest bit of data that he did, just for a moment, a fiercely glad kiss, defying everything lurking in the depths he ruled over, a simple profound testament to what we were and would forever be in glorious spite of any and all terrors we did and will survive.
Knife was only there for a moment (and later, kissing the knuckles of their soft white hands), but he was entirely his color, claret pink, dark and soft and sweet. Razor followed him, also only there for a moment, letting herself curl up like a purring cat in the latter half of a kiss that felt just as warm as their hands soft in her blood-red shock of childlike-messy hair. Mulberry's twirling hair and facial scruff locking in immediately as she fronted, herself content to be there albeit surprised, wondering why she had been isolating herself from this. Jeremiah suddenly fearlessly soft in his own Cerise tone, kissing and being kissed, knowing there was no danger here. David knowing he wasn't comfortable with kisses on the mouth but still wanting to feel this love, and Joshua moved in affectionately to share that with him while returning that gesture in his stead. Marigold hugging the Arrows and smiling with her face in their shoulder, and Toby quietly moving in with her, suddenly alive and not knowing this but knowing he needed this, to be loved, to be safe and warm. 
Simeon & Sylvain showed up sometime elsewhen, with Infinitii, as they had spoken about this previously. Infi affectionately embraced them with one arm and let them share in hir deep black love, safely for them, but just as deep and pure as they needed to know. Both of them feeling it entirely, like anise gumdrops on their tongue, sweet and spiced and light and heavy all at once. They held each other inside and smiled, knowing four years ago they had been torn in two, separated by sudden death and despair, and now they were together, and alive, and loved and safe and free. Both of them such a soft light creamy yellow tint against that velvet black, both of them like french vanilla and banana cream pie, little sweet fluffy things held in the arms of something fathomlessly rich and dark, perfectly happy.


Rio and Markus were there, both of them feeling more joy than they even expected of themselves, finally feeling that they belonged, not just with us but here, with them, exactly as they were, as whoever they'd grow into being as we all continued in this loving growing process. Markus's back tattoos and chest scars and warm dark skin tone searing into our collective memory, Rio's lovely shaggy smoke-blue hair and paler delicate but craft-calloused fingers doing the same. Both of them so belovedly real, our collective heart treasuring this, missing them.
Their Daemons, too, were so clear and real, relishing their time with Omen, learning how to Be more strongly than ever. Lethe moving like dark blue poured out, all spindly legs but heavy and darkly elegant as water. Medallion fronted more than she Ever has before, shockingly lithe and graceful, all points and edges but still as poised as a dancer. She holds the body's hands so uniquely, almost cradling our beloveds with the sides of our hands, the flats of her blades. And yes, she too has learned how to facemouth, but I can still feel her actual main stomachmouth dormant and unusable when she fronts. Lethe, too, as well as the rest of his long insectoid body that does't translate.
On that note, both Rupture and Cake tried to front, but were too strange in form to come through so easily and suddenly, especially since neither of them have experience in a human form before. Rupture's overlay was a terrific burst of nonsense below our plexus, totally nonhuman, a crablike clatter of legs-- and if that wasn't bad enough, she cannot get a facemouth to work at all, and kept trying to talk out of her throat like she normally would. But she was aware that this wasn't the shape she was currently borrowing, even though the huge dissonance made her consciousness terribly hazy, and she was both surprised and intrigued by this. In memory, I can feel her filing this away in her mind, thinking upon it, what it means to Be, now, tangibly and real even away from her nebulous heart-host. And Cake, too, body too lithe and long to understand legs or  bipedal arm structure, let alone such a small face, still trying to figure herself out in the first place... but trying nevertheless, called in by the other Daemons' existences, herself also now feeling glimmers of wanting to Be, briefly wondering Who she was, who she was bound to, what it meant for her to exist at all now... wondering at her own shape, her own color, how many eyes she would have on her face should she choose to open some. Both of those monstrous girls only there for a few seconds, if that, but both of them remembered dearly, both of them real.
Nexus was there too, and Axis and Chocoloco and Iolite and Jess, every Daemon losing themselves in the ardor of things, all of them always madly in love with each other, and every nousfoni flooding with grateful relief at this love that they too were now a part of, seen and treasured for exactly who they were, unafraid.
Nexus didn't front long, unusually, choosing to let his fellows have the spotlight, choosing to stay within with Laurie, who was also mostly missing from this whole affair, hesitantly learning what she could and couldn't do, learning the difference between fear and simple preference and function clashes. But Jess and Iolite were there, not for long but long enough, both of them temporarily but truly releasing their frustration and sorrow to feel a new but complete love and acceptance that they'd previously only felt from their Daemons, both of them tearful with happiness, arms flung around the shoulders that embraced them in turn, their colors clear and healthy and good.
Axis and his skeletal fingers, huge and weirdly fused at the metacarpals, looking like bleached bone or plaster or old ruins, covered in tiny plants and fungi and moss and fluttering insects, his eyes deep spruce-green and surprisingly soft with compassion. Chocoloco, too, feeling more love than anyone previously expected of him, all coffee-harsh anger and fierce red-slash eyes, but here he was melted chocolate and cherry jelly and there was a depth to the kisses he delivered like his throat opened up into an endless warmth, deep down. A totally different vastness than Infinitii, a striking contrast to Axis's flung-open birdcage ribs, to Nexus's galaxian entrails studded with gold-hot lanterns. All of them so strange, so clear, so real. God bless Daemons, I'll say it forever. There's something about them, even just touching this form so temporarily with their lives, that makes us, too, feel like we're more real than ever, like we're something etched into the very essence of things, lead-lined stained glass figures in the church of existence. Indelible and true. It's a blessed wonder.

The Archivist trio showed up at one point, too-- Garrison first, almost as hesitant as Leon but driven by the love and pursuit of understanding, of System knowledge, and ended up getting his lip bitten, aha. He took it like a champ, learning that this was something others in both our Systems did in love, and I can feel his mind and heart opening a bit more in that memory, becoming less tense, less paranoid. Bless our Archivists, they all have Protector hearts in their own way.
Isadora and Kalisha were there too, of course, but they ended up in embraces, and Isadora had a split second of actual disappointment at not being kissed before smiling and laughing genuinely and just melting into that hug. Love is love and she was glad to have it, to be there. She actually drew Kalisha in with her, the two fronting side by side, and then unexpectedly, Kalisha in turn reached out to find Karissa! She hasn't been around in many many months, but those name sisters have forged a sort of passive fondness, and so even if our Chartreuse Protector wasn't all there, this experience still touched her heart too, and if anything can wake up a dormant nousfoni to themselves and the world, it's being loved On the outside. So we'll see how this affects her in the future.

One after another, flowing like blood and water and sunlight, a quiet multitude moved through this newly-beloved body to experience that same affection and compassion and devotion anew, whether or not we'd ever touched it before. Every time is the first time. That's the miraculous thing about it. It never gets old, never ceases to amaze us, never ceases to hit us as clear and true as an arrow to the heart.

And then Infinitii was back and someone was asking us, had been meaning to ask us for a long time now, can we do something, do you trust us, and the quiet careful deliberate emotion in their voice was like a singing glass in our heart and we said yes, Infi said yes, (please, whatever you want, I want), I trust you, we trust you, we love you too.

 

...I cannot even put into words how suddenly, starkly alive and adored we felt.

 



So many of us were there. So many of us. It was a total shock, but thank God it happened. 
Infinitii was there at the start, but suddenly and totally, Julie was there. Thinking about it, I'm not surprised. This is the sort of thing that her original days as a Tar-corrupted hacker were inundated with. In the past, the very thought of this would have had us kicking and screaming and looking for knives or pills or worse. We had suffered this enough, never again.
...Except that's not what this is. It's NEVER what this is. What we were experiencing now was love, total and pure, and Julie knew it, and if anyone in the System was going to make damn sure that was crystal clear, it was her.

But... Lord. So many of us were there. Lynne and Spine, Waldorf and Josephina, Eros, Markus... and then when the Arrows moved to kiss us, suddenly Celebi was there, her heart strangely aching and determined, and she said no, don't stop. Go back. I need to know what this is like. I need to know.
And it hit me, that even if she didn't live through the beginning of 2012, her heart did. Her bloodline did, inevitably. Tar-mangled or not, her soul was affected by both the love and pain of that time, and she had just as much a right and reason and responsibility as Julie to be there right now. 


...There's so little literal memory, at least, nothing that translates into structured language. Everything is color, light, emotion. 



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

(rough notes, from the Arrow's writing on this, as their memory is inevitably different than ours)

(currently unfinished; it's 6am so we will refine this later.)


(eucharist feelings again, on both sides apparently. "being/essence/spirit." SEAWATER.)


omen, oliver, kristanova, hiccup, kyo. the fact that all of them were there... what that does to our heart is inexpressible, but we have to try. 
just... all of them. they love us that much. ALL of them. and god we adore them all too, we hope they know, we need to make sure they know, they deserve that so dearly.



javier after, embracing them like his heart would break, "thank you so much for this being the next morning." choked with tears.
swearing we'd never leave them, ever. "you have all of our heartbeats" and "we just want ours to beat next to yours."
"four years ago there wasn't much left behind that." his FEELING that time, that emptiness, barely 10 left.


(feeling their heartbeat, after, pounding and sincere. genuinely shocked that THEY were feeling for US in this. that hadn't even crossed our mind. that's sadly telling as to our past, to expect that this sort of thing was devoid of emotion from the other, but what bliss in that assumption being proven false.)

infi laughing like every easter carillon in the universe. the joy endless, all love and light like stars brilliant against the limitless cosmos. ze could not keep it in, could not help it, could not stop. it was beautiful.
"good things come in threes"
hir eyes were open. just like at the eclipse. feeling so completely, totally hirself, that hir overlay was flat-out eyes and teeth both and ze couldn't be otherwise. couldn't be half, as ze was feeling too whole.

oliver asking if "this was one of the things ze hoped for" 
later when he told me this, i immediately remembered this, the first time that was openly referenced in any form. lord we were terrified even that recently.



"this is like the first time i was with jay" 
"this is what i am-- pure transmutation"
the FEELING in those statements. god.


JULIE'S DAEMON. 
I FELT HER TEETH.
we were worried about her; since her "birth" last week or so she's been almost impossible to see. but now, good lord, today she came through clear as anything, hard as infi almost. she's still half (hot pink) viperfish and that mouth is Unmistakable in her overlay. all those huge needle teeth. and her other half appearance-wise is a feathered serpent, and that too is obvious-- she feels so sinuous when fronting, so elegant but lethal, so much bigger than the body.
the arrows say her voice is similar: hissing, seductive, beautiful. i don't doubt it. i have no idea what she said, or how it felt, but i can feel the echo of it, tinged with the lipstick terror of the old julie days, that sort of warzone femininity, and i wouldn't expect anything less of her. 
julie and her daemon were cofronting so hard, so totally. practically sharing the same breaths. their very beings meshing perfectly together, blurring into one, without losing any of their individuality.


DENDRITE!!!!
came out when the arrows were asking who was there? julie and her daemon responded first i think, then suddenly,
"and me, me, me, me"
FRONTING more solidly than ever, her spindly arms and claws and tentacles and feelers SO clear in her overlay, her color clearer than even that, a beautiful rich pastel red, glossy like flowers and candy apples and heart lockets
she was struggling to talk, couldn't get her voice to translate on such short sudden notice
"i don't have a voice of my own yet but i found her, i found her, i found her!!" "i found mine, she's mine!" not ownership, but recognition of the most blissfully aching sort. pure joy, overwhelming joy, weeping from it.
and THAT JEWEL. the pinkish one, different hair-- no klonoa ears!-- from 2004 or so. heartspace anchor. the one who was in love. i can feel her exact vibe now, in music. i know her soundtrack. but she resonated EXACTLY with dendrite's own heart, embracing her as her own, both of them so happy, so in love with each other's souls, like every daemon and their host should be, and ultimately always always are.


eros, "how could anyone call this selfish," feeling that so powerfully and unquestionably, that needs to be global.
that sad old religious-mangled teaching that to want to be loved was wrong. that to receive love was manipulative or demanding or otherwise sinful. that's a lie. this proved it.
remembering what chaos zero said on the porch. "there's nothing wrong with wanting love returned for love," effectively. it being a divinely mutual force. love naturally reciprocates itself, it aches for it, and that's pure as anything. 
us lying there, holding them, and eros recognizing immediately that we were feeling such deep love towards them, for them, about them, it wasn't selfish at all, but it ironically wasn't self"less" either. it recognized our selves and their selves, and it adored them both/all, and it wanted to share in that forever, and that is love.


one of their tears falling directly into our right eye. the exact sting of seawater. it was utterly transcendent, holy.


me, touching their chest, dying from love and holy fear, "who am i to dare"
then realizing we, too, have a heart just like that




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

we didn't get out of bed until like... 4:30. no regrets, ever. no better use of a day than this sincerity, this total living.

kristanova made the dearly-loved after-breakfast tradition of grits, eggs, & bacon (lord who would have expected This future for it that first morning he cooked for us, months ago). it was amazing.

we watched an episode of sense8, "i have no room in my heart for hate," as we haven't watched that show in months either, and we were feeling it so hard this morning, with how headspacey it is, with how much more clearly we are living as systems now and how much more clearly we can understand both the people and the topics of the show as well.

...

(we typed ALL NIGHT)

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (held)


today!


- painting at work again. dad's building a big book cabinet for someone so we do all the primer+paint work. it's fun.
most of the time was javier talking to jeremiah.

people tuning into their GENUINE vibes in light of that crosslight thing I mentioned yesterday.
lynne and laurie both REWINDING to their earliest selves in a sense when that happens??? lynne feeling a LOT like she did when she was cerise-- that is her REAL core-- and Laurie being staunchly protective and righteous, no laughing-it-off at all.

lynne worried because the orange she's been holding is too saturated? like it's catching too much hyperactivity and it's not resonating with her "comfort, caring, and stability" purpose.
she also struggles to act in that 'saturated' way when she fronts, which is notable. it catches the manics and it DOES NOT RESONATE WITH HER! yes lynne does have a "fun" aspect to her color (orange always does) BUT it's not as "lethally carefree" as it's been manifesting, cranked up to 15 or so.
we need to CALM DOWN in general; our mind is a mess from all the stress. long meditation sessions are required. the lack of sleep isn't helping.
kyanos is our main meditative person; for whatever reason when we started doing breathing exercises in therapy he's the one who immediately fronted and did them, well and serenely. "serene" is a word that fits him very well,
too.

there was something very important we found out?? to do with the children??
KIDS GROW UP.
IF THERE'S AN INTERNAL PROBLEM WITH WOMEN, IT WILL STILL AFFECT GIRLS.
EVEN THE LITTLE LITTLE ONES.
THAT'S HUGE.

this was showing up in how marigold and david were acting? mostly how david keeps catching anger and we do NOT want him turning into an "angry/selfish young man" solely because we were programmed through exposure to think that's the ONLY OPTION.
IT'S NOT THE ONLY OPTION.
yes david might stay a child forever. BUT. if he ever did want to grow older, he can STAY as sweet and kind and soft as he is now. THAT CAN HAPPEN.
and yes this is affecting jay a lot too, it's likely why he's still unstable at the edges.

hints of heartspace happening?? tuning into it more now. thank god. thank god.
laurie and lynne especially are both working together lately to become more in-tune; they're old buddies and they also have more history than anyone else in the System, Julie and Waldorf excluded because of their not being in Central for most of the time.
but yeah. heartspace is HUGELY IMPORTANT and we are going there whenever we can, to heal, as THAT'S where the serious magic happens; it's built for the purpose of mutability and possibility and growth.
jewel is always around to help, too; she has virtually god-tier powers in heartspace so if stuff gets dangerous she's there to save anyone.


josephina saying how the main thing about his/hir purpose (who just laughed and said "dude ANY pronouns are fine!!") has always been honesty?
it's a very yellow thing. honesty, honor, integrity-- basically, being true to one's purpose. it's a very solid feeling. very much like what yellow is in dream world. you know, with dakeep and elevolt and saturn and kevoryu and people like that.


kyanos talking to javier? last night kyanos really latched onto e saying his heart resonated most with "integrity" in undertale, he's been easier to see/hear since then actually.
so the words "serenity" and "integrity" fit the Sky color vibe exactly, that's notable.

minty talking to marigold and david. david remembers her!! was excited to see his friend.
honestly it was so nice to see him happy like the child he is again; he's been so hurt and angry lately, it ached.
marigold a little scared of minty at first (her eyes), so minty tried caringly to ease her fear, even tried to change her eye appearance. marigold said she still wanted to be friends because she knew minty wasn't bad even if she 'looked a little scary.' i remember minty worriedly asking braxton if she was even allowed to change her eyes and he smiled (!) softly and said whatever she felt she should do.

eros still isn't back. name is the big obstacle.


something we haven't mentioned yet= 'delta' name motif with archivists??
also unnamed "social logic alter," used to get confused with sherlock, BUT this one holds NO data, just thinks super-logically to the point of overanalyzing everything to death?
they write fairly often here, but we catch them.


another thing we haven't mentioned
the freakin frenchiest fry showing up IN OUR SYSTEM and STICKING??????????
WHY???????
laurie calls him (??) "frenchie" and they're actually really really damn helpful
so hey I guess that’s why they stuck?
outspacers are so weird, if the System decides someone outside is exactly what we need, for good or ill... then chances are they are going to show up inside sooner or later.
birthday is december 3rd I think?? color is very obviously yellow. cool dude actually, fronts way too easily, but that's good because he's very self-confident and GOOD yellow. that whole thing. still very very blurry self-wise though; no solid body in headspace yet but like all outspacers there's a "skeletal energy" there, kind of ghosty. when fronting he still can't talk to the System yet either, that requires a more solid sense of self and "beyond self."
that's notable too. most of our socials can't talk to headspace because they can't think outside themselves, if that makes sense? like jessica, she's so obsessed with "physical pleasure" that she has NO sense of spirituality or abstractness, and she CANNOT talk to headspace because that's out of her realm of comprehension.
shockingly, jennifer is growing out of this. like we said yesterday, she's becoming linked to headspace which could be MASSIVELY HELPFUL if she doesn't get yanked out of social functioning altogether. she's so, so sweet. we actually all like her now that we're getting to know her. the only problem with her is that she's blindingly naive. she was created to be the "work social," basically the "people pleaser," existing to be that sweet kind nice girl that everyone always expected us to be, a "hostess" almost. and she does it very very well because she LIKES it and she likes people and she genuinely wants to be that kind. so she's a GREAT person. the only problem is she cannot handle any negative emotions. i don't know if she can even understand them yet. and we're afraid of breaking her. so... right now we're leaving her to do what she will. even if she gets inside connections we won't push anything, let her deal at her own pace and time. we NEED someone as hyper-innocent as her because she's unfazed by family stress, which is something we have a LOT of right now. even if someone says something awfully mean to our face-- which would typically trigger simeon and then wreckage-- jennifer can't integrate that thought process so she honestly smiles and figures "oh, they're just having a bad day. i'll be nice to them." and whatever they said didn't register. so it's a way of REALLY surviving right now. we need her around.
more on that as it develops of course.

i still wonder if nousfoni who are moving levels like that, the ones who aren't in headspace, could go through heartspace first as a sort of initiaion into the upstairs? because heartspace can be that sort of bridge, acting/feeling like downstairs at first, then introducing new upstairs elements and gradually changing as they're able until they're ready to fully anchor upstairs (if need be)?
it's a thought. it'd help them grow MUCH more strongly as their own people, too, as barely any socials think of themselves that way at first.



when shopping today= "I have no interest in buying anything that we won't actually eat."
THANK YOU JAY

getting much much better at intuition too. still have to be careful, but trust is big.
good isn't "goody two shoes" remember. TRUE goodness has honor AND compassion.
remember! if it seems wise but has no love it's NOT WISDOM!!!




later on, listening to tons of christmas music (kenny g!) and finding more on spotify.
favorite find so far= "carol of the banjos"


watching a "vinesauce" undertale video that someone randomly linked, did that for like an hour because he was voice-acting it and when he gets to asgore, he goes for a morgan-freeman type voice but there's a tone to that voice that still works and... it made me really… it gave me that sad-happy feeling, watching that scene again.
laurie was warning us strictly to actually stop watching because we were becoming too detached an observer, becoming too dissociated.
we want to try another playthrough. get a happier ending. we really should.


someone made some really good food BUT it made us sick. which was sad.
at least people are trying.

we drank so many lemons today

finally got to put up lights on the porch!
just wrapped three lights around the trellis because i didn't have a ladder to get to the roof. it still works. then i hung a line across the porch windows because otherwise that whole side of the house is dark.



NO HACKS TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
it was so scary today after that girl yesterday.



last night btw= coming home from choir, genesis insisting we get in the christmas spirit, loudly started singing "jingle bells" and making jay sing along until he was laughing so hard he was almost in tears. It was fantastic.

I just realized tomorrow is thursday. it's going go be insanely busy.
laurie says we absolutely need sleep right now so off we go.

 



prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

Therapy on Thursday.

I didn't update as it happened (people wanted to ignore it)



numb fronter as we walked in, couldnt get them out at first
spice fronted for a WHILE, very angry
sherlock fronted momentarily
so did garrison
isadora tried but talking socially isnt her thing
jewel peeked in? left shortly
"jessica" writer girl fronted for a WHILE (NOT the brown "jess," no ties to chocoloco?)
clearly said "other people don't like when I get violent"
she hates the mother, that's her main thing. color feels vaguely indigo, like the one from 2008 or so
wreckage tried to come in, I think ashen was alerted
david did too I think

 


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

 

@ 11:55 pm

 

 

Sometimes I think it's really dumb that I have to write down everything "bad" that happens so I can tell the therapist. I don't want to hold on to this stuff. But, I keep remembering that one phrase: "those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it." I can't help but feel that, stupid and ridiculous or not, that quote applies here. It's awful.

Sunday morning, I think, there was a dream hack. It was horrible. The pain in-dream was so excruciating that the body collapsed, and I remember almost passing out. I had fallen to the floor, in agony and delirious, and I was half-crazily praying to God to save me somehow. I thought I was dying.
Miraculously, that pain did NOT translate over to the physical body when we awoke. Thank God for that, really!! If it had translated I probably would have really died.

I know why it happened. Sleeping is painful lately, what with surgery recovery, and if we lie flat down it hurts even more. So, we have to carefully prop up the body in a way that won't make our limbs go numb, and will still allow us to breathe, without straining the abdomen so badly we can't get back out of bed easily afterwards (which will happen if we fall down flat). Anyway, since it is tricky, we usually wake up several times during the night hurting. We haven't been sleeping well in any case. There have been lots of nightmares.
Anyway. Sunday, we woke up around 6AM, only having about 5 hours of sleep so far. So we made the mistake of going back to sleep as the sun was rising.
Here's a note: sleeping during sunlight equals HACKS!!! I don't know why, but it's a constant. The "danger zone" happens whenever you try to sleep when it's light out. It's Plague stuff I think. Bad stuff. So we kind of feared it would happen, but what else could we do?

I'm standing here and the legs are covered in blood and I'm fine, but whoever was out before me definitely was not.
There's a problem lately: no emotions, but expression of emotions. Like, "I feel like I should be upset about this, or that it would be right to feel upset about this, but there's no actual feeling!" Like after hacks. You KNOW you're "upset," "sad," "angry," et cetera, but there's no actual emotion. It's an empty void, a blank space. There's nothing. There's just this "knowledge" that, even if you don't actually feel it, you know you aren't happy about this situation. And then someone fronts, and starts to try and scream or cry or something, but there are no emotions, and the second they stop it's poker face city. It's highly confusing and rather upsetting, to know that there should be an emotion there but there isn't.
Even worse, we still have those not-so-floating voices (alters?? the therapist is making us question a lot of things we took for granted or glossed over) who are full of hatred for anyone who shows "weakness or stupidity." There was a problem today; someone was eating as a "coping mechanism"-- the need to organize, to fix something, to clean something, to destroy something. It's all projected coping needs that we can't find a way to meet elsewhere, so it comes out unhealthily. But it was 5:05, and then the grandmother walks in, stops, smiles sadly/flatly at us, and says "You didn't make it."
Now she likely meant well. She knows we like to stop eating at 5PM every day, but sometimes we don't eat "breakfast" until 4PM so that makes things tricky, since we have to prepare the food that day too. So she meant, "it's after 5 already." But it hurt! What a way to say it! Why would you say it such a way?
Immediately the brain heard those words through the hurt. "You're still eating, you wretched thing?" "You failed." "There's a strict set of rules you must meet to be "good," and guess what? You didn't make it." In short, what we heard was, " You failed to do what was good and right, again. I'm disappointed in you, but I didn't expect anything different. You're a disgrace and a shame."
All I know is that this person's "appetite" bottomed out and immediately they wanted to burn every edible item in the kitchen. They fought off the urge to forcibly vomit out of shame right then and there, and walked out to sit on the porch in the cold, feeling utterly filthy and animalistic, like they no longer deserved to show their hedonistic face among human beings.
A few minutes later the grandmother stomps out onto the porch, sighing angrily, half-shouting. "What are you doing now? Stop being so ridiculous. Get back in here."
We tried to explain how we felt, to apologize for being such a humiliation, but she cut us off. "Oh, I don't want to hear this again! You've gotta stop that." Then as we went to walk in the door, she (unknowingly?) shut the door right in our face. There was a moment of shock-- dulled by the fact that we hadn't felt any emotions this whole time-- and then someone went and slumped against the chimney and tried to cry. Unfortunately, the feelings of self-horror and hatred were so potent, that one of those "floating alters" spoke up. "Shut the hell up, you faggot bastard!!!" That's the one that hates crying, and calls anyone who dares to cry because they're "sad" the most awful name they can imagine. They see crying as selfish, manipulative, and downright disgusting. In their eyes, people who cry are doing the emotional equivalent of grabbing someone forcibly by the face and dragging them in the direction you want them to go. It's profane emotional abuse, crying is, to them. So we aren't allowed to cry because it's "evil."
So that shut down, easily enough, because nothing was actually being felt… convincing us that we were "evil" and manipulative, because who else would cry without actually feeling sad? The only thing we felt was this ugly, corrosive, dirty feeling of wrongness, like we were trash, utter garbage, and did not deserve to be conscious.
We ended up back inside the house somewhere around there but the memory cuts out for about two, three hours around that time.
There's too much memory loss lately. It's scary. It's unbearable.


…I lit some candles for optimism, but the black one ended up overflowing like a volcano and spitting sludge all into the pink one, only. That's awful symbolism and it's scaring me a little.

There was a real hack, Sunday night I think. The same day of the dream hack as far as I know. It was in the living room, someone went into a trance from the red lights and that is all I know. We found the culprit, because they tried to attack Chaos and he freaked out, then it went after Genesis, but Infi showed up and neutralized it, so there's no hack data other than the initial "someone bad is here" shock of the culprit fronting and Wreckage realizing it. Yeah, she noticed and tried to kill it, I don't know how it kept going… lots of the hackers can. I think it's because they're on the "downstairs" level, that's not tied to the System at all. It's all Socials and faceless people and floaters. It's a very dangerous, very frightening, very primal level. J---bel and J----ca's kingdom. There's so much malice in those two names, it hurts. I don't want to write them.
So we think that person was "Eros." NOT the guy we've been calling by the name Upstairs, at least we don't think so. This is the guy from 2012, the REALLY EVIL one that caused the whole Celebi trouble in January. Yeah. The EVIL guy. We think it's him, because it feels very similar to what records we have of him, and it's not a good feeling. So we're being very careful.

The real problem is that he's not the only one!!! There's at least two girls, too. One is Anna, I don't remember/know what her deal is but she exists, we're well aware of her. Long straight blonde hair and all. BUT there's another girl-- at least we think it's a girl? maybe there are two-- which is one we've been hunting for AGES, and it's the one who hijacked Jay's heart affinity and turned it into the most dangerous horrific thing ever. She's not a good person, at all, not at all, her energy is unmistakable too and they've left EVIDENCE before, on our computer, that they exist. It's always scary to find evidence, we're not used to people fronting without permission or knowledge, especially bad people.

Oh! Before I forget. The therapist wants to know who writes. I'm a "girl," more like I have a female look and I'm a teenager. But gender is "ehh." I don't think about it much. Anyway I'm a girl and I'm young and I'm happy? I'm not sad, at least. I'm more like, unfazed. So that's it.

Back to typing so I don't slip, that happens a lot with self-awareness because the darker minds in the System don't want these new voices manifesting. (Sherlock here, momentarily. Give me a minute to hand the reins back, quietly.)

So. Bad hacker girl. We don't know who she is but she was apparently around tonight. No hack data again, just the instant of realizing "oh no oh no, someone was here," and then a time gap, and then standing in the bathroom with a huge bread knife in one hand and hysterically sobbing "there's not enough blood!!" Whoever that was. I don't know. But that person realized the "no emotions" problem because although they were wracked with tears and pain, there was-- again-- no emotion being felt, which shook them up.
They were staring at a washcloth full of blood and saying it looked like a murder scene. Then they wondered if we should go to the hospital, because "this wasn't normal," they had lost so much time and they didn't know what day it was and this was no way to live, it was unbearable.
Then there's a somewhat different memory? An instant of someone leaning against the doorframe and laughing deliriously, staring at the wrists and saying "I could end this right now!" It was the sudden realization that we had a really sharp knife and we were really hopelessly distraught and it would be SO quick to just… end it all. Instantly. But something made them change their mind, because that person disappeared and then there's another time gap… yada yada yada. It keeps happening like that and it's not fun.

Anyway. They "couldn't reach God" and every time they tried to ask "do you love me" "do you forgive me" etc., the damned floating voices would jump in and lie and say "no," over and over, making the fronter feel trapped in hell and unsaveable.
Then Infi showed up. All I know is that Infinitii showed up and said "I love you," making it very clear that they weren't ignorant of the situation even so. I don't know what happened after that, I can't see it, just that ze and the fronter (did Jay come in? no? somebody else.) were talking for a little bit and now I'm here? Typing? Geez. It's 9:25 PM. The last time we remember looking at a clock it was 8:25 or so, in the kitchen, putting the knife back in the sink. Geez. And getting matches for the candles.
Someone was standing on a chair to do that (the matches are on top of the fridge) and saying (with no small amount of disgust and shame) that they felt "lonely," that they "never had any friends" because to them, a REAL friend was someone that you didn't HAVE to talk to when you were upset like this. A REAL friend would understand, and just sit with you if you just needed company, to be assured someone else kind was there for protection and compassion, who wouldn't want to chat emptily or do small talk. Which is stupid, and which is what all almost-"friends" would force us to do in the past. Real close friends talk about real close things. And we never had that, but we needed We never got close to anyone really, they never wanted to be close and it hurt. We only ever had… let me count. AMG, AAA, CL, SD maybe, BP, BD almost, Angelbee, and that's it. Seven people who were near-friends, and of all those, only ONE of them (CL) EVER treated us like one. CL treated us like a sibling, there's precious little memory of that time period of life and the only real snapshot we have is of walking across the playground with her, and she was just so happy to be with us that this surge of real honest love welled up in us, like the love you'd have for a dear friend or sister, and it was one of the first real things we ever felt. CL left us for good a few months later, but… that was real, and honest. It's worth noting that this was approximately the same life-time period that Jezebel evidenced during, so the forces were already in opposition. Ugh. Anyway, yeah. Seven people, two of them who were only "cool acquaintances," three of them who were borderline abusive, and one of them (AAA) who was never really an "official" friend (i.e. she would talk to us often but we never hung out or did stuff together) but who we adored nevertheless, as you know. So yeah, we were lonely. Are lonely, I guess, if this evening's admittance by who-knows-who was honest enough.
We did have internet friends, I guess? I forgot. They've fallen into the "lost years," the ones scrubbed dry by programming or trauma or whatever. We don't remember them at all; whoever befriended them is LONG gone and did not leave any first-person memories that we can find. But that's not relevant now, and that stuff physically hurts to look for.
Where was I. Oh yeah. After that hack, and bleeding all over the bathroom (we got really dizzy, not sure if it was from blood or stress or whatever, but it was a little worrisome), and losing even more time, and wanting to throw up, and feeling utterly isolated, yeah we were kind of lonely. We were unplugged from headspace too, and to be honest I don't know if that helped or hindered the situation? There is a LOT of hate for headspace on the downstairs level, with the socials and other faceless fronters, because to them "headspace" is synonymous with "the world and people that only exist because of hacking." In other words, "headspace is a living reminder of hell, and as far as we are concerned, its very presence promotes more suffering and pain." So the socials HATE headspace, and will deny/ slander/ curse/ try to annihilate it at every opportunity. Sadly, because of that split, there's no way to get help from headspace (someone just shouted "we don't want it!!"). Well, there you go. Don't shoot the messenger, guys, I'm just typing. ("For who?") For anyone, I'm just keeping records of this so we can actually deal with this trouble with the therapist maybe, and keep it from ever happening again.

I hope. We wish. This has been going on for 7 years, plus-- no, longer than that, almost 10 now. We aren't sure. When did the hacks really start? So much time is gone, but so many of us are so young, we can't tell.
We keep forgetting about "childhood trauma" too. We laugh at it, actually. It feels like all fairy tales, like some scary story made up to make other children behave. We don't remember having a childhood. Our memory doesn't "start" until 8th grade, really. 2003, going into 2004, that's when headspace put down its first "roots," even though Jewel manifested years prior, and others (Julie, Jezebel, etc.) even earlier. Still, all of that feels foggy and vague, almost like a prologue, or something slightly off-kilter. "Solid" memory, the "beginning," is in the 8th grade classroom. 2003, let's say. And then time disappears for several years, and the next thing we have a "solid" memory of is 2011 or so. Is it? Did Cannon leave any solid memories? No?
It's weird. Cannon and Glissando both were at MU, that awesome university, but although their memories are very clear, it's nevertheless fogged-up by the third-person viewpoint. It feels… vague. Like we were asleep from 2004 to 2008, and began waking up slowly. There's little data until closer to 2009, I think? And then it's gone AGAIN, because whoever was on dA for the "OCT period" (the short-haired kid here) is TOTALLY missing from all our records, we have NO clue who they were. Then 2010 was Utah, which was only know from data because there's NO actual data of that…

You know what, let me do that. It's 10PM, we're going to bed at 11 today because 1) although I would LOVE to stay up and type, it is NOT safe to sleep during the daylight!!! so 11PM is now the set bedtime, and 2) we're going to accompany the grandmother tomorrow morning at 8 to do family shopping and go to her bloodwork place. Any time we get to go in a car is gold. Cars are BEAUTIFUL. They are blessed spaces on wheels. Every car ever is a safe place, a sanctuary, and we love them. We can talk to them too, a little, like Kit in Young Wizards. Serafina (the PT) talks to us the most; she does not like when people hit potholes and she doesn't like when people say she's "not as good" as Bethany (the Suzuki). So she's kind of moody. But we're nice to her, we really do love her, and she's warming up to us more. Bethany we don't get to talk to often (we don't get to drive her much) but I'm curious, and kind of scared, to try. She's been in several accidents and there has been at LEAST one massively horrifying hack while IN her, poor thing. We haven't even listened to that file yet.


…Okay, I just had to leave the computer for a second and NOW all the terrible sadness and hopelessness is settling in. How do we deal with that? Just meditate all the time?
To be honest, that's why we haven't been meditating. It's… when we do, we don't want to stop. We'd unplug from reality and meditate for like six hours a day if we could. Is that detrimental? Is it "good" to totally dissociate from the physical realm that often, that totally? "Be in the world, but not of it," they say, but for God's sake we don't know HOW to be "in it" at this point, most Buddhas weren't "mentally ill" as far as we know, and it hurts like a crushed heart to hear people say "well mental illness isn't real” because sure, we know that all this suffering is ephemeral, but then…
I don't know. What about the PTSD, then? What about the D.I.D.? Are they saying that "oh, your PTSD isn't real" even if someone was raped, or caught in an explosion, or something equally horrid? It's hard to find the fine line. On one hand, there's awareness that this life is temporary, and all the horrors we may endure here are equally so… and on the other hand, there's the awareness that this life is still valid, right? It's still real in some way, right? And… is it wrong to be scared, when something scary happens to you?
I don't know. This drives me mad, especially because it's the REASON why we aren't feeling emotions anymore!! SO many people have said "your emotions are just knee-jerk reactions to stimuli that don't really exist!" and glorified "detachment" and "emptiness" that we have scraped out our soul and now we don't know HOW to live in this world because we just want to meditate all day. We're in pain and we can't even feel it because these people keep saying it's not real.
Bullshit. BULLSHIT. "You have to accept suffering before you can transcend it." That means stop kicking this under the rug and let us HEAL for God's sake, we're scared and we're frightened and we're sad and lonely and confused and angry and you just keep doing that stupid "SMILE ()" reaction and acting like we're just poor fools!!! Well maybe we are, but that puts us right in with every other beaten and kicked child in the world. Would you just "SMILE" at a five-year-old whose mother just whacked them in the face out of pure malice, and who was crying bitterly as a result? "Don't cry child, she's not really your mother! The pain isn't really real! (Smile!)" FCK YOU.
I am so sorry. FCK YOU.


That too. That freaking mother. "WRITE A BOOK!!! WRITE A BOOK!!! HERE HERE'S ANOTHER PUBLISHING COMPANY TO CONTACT!! HERE'S ANOTHER WRITERS GROUP TO ATTEND!!! BLA BLA BLA!!!!!!!!"
Fck off, FCK OFF, STOP.
Everyone wants me/us/whatever to "write a book." WHAT BOOK!??!?
What the hell do you want us to write????? What are you expecting????
There's our personal chronicles, these Archives, sure we could TRY to write a book out of them, we'd LOVE to actually, but that's NOT EASY, ESPECIALLY when every two seconds you're telling me IT'S FAKE, IT'S BULLSHIT, GET OVER IT, STOP ACTING LIKE THAT, STOP SAYING THAT, ET CETERA.
I wouldn’t BE saying things if I wasn't FEELING them. I'm trying to be HONEST. Would you rather I lie??
I don't know. I don't know. I WANT to write this in a book and put it out there but it HURTS, damn it it HURTS and it's terrifying to look back and see that there's NOTHING for YEARS, God help us how can we write anything if there's so much empty space and unanswered questions??? I don't know. I don't know.
And then there's Dream World, Jewel's magnum opus or however you'd call it. She's terrified because so many people have ripped that story right out of her heart and tried to mangle it into their own liking. It's been so horribly corrupted, she can't see half the characters anymore, she can't find the timeline after 2003 right now, right where ours stops. She cries about it a lot, how all she wants to do is share that story, her love and joy, our hope, and yet it's been so battered. She's scared, that she might not be able to get it right in time, or the right way, or something. But we all feel her fear, more of a wrenchingly awful bottomless mourning, and it makes our situation all the more depressing.

Ugh. This entry is going places I don't want it to go. Where was I. Cars.
Not going to talk about that hack file. It's an hour long and I know Wreckage talked on it and so did the veil-person (the purple one) and Julie maybe? I don't know, I don't want to think about it, there's a potent jagged aura around that entire event that is horrifying to look at, sorry to keep using that word but it's the only one with a "vibe" that fits the feeling I'm trying to express. Horror is different from terror, and fright, and fear. You get the picture, I hope.
Cars. We're going in one tomorrow. I'll type again when I get home, maybe.
I wanted to list memory bits, for the sake of having that data written down somewhere, and also for the therapist. Oh, plus she has us doing this thing, let's start a new paragraph for that, I mentioned it earlier.

It's supposed to snow tomorrow. Okay, so the therapist asked us, "who does what in your System?" But she meant on the outside. And we DON'T KNOW. It was very jarring, kind of existentially nauseating, scary, to realize that we don't know who does half this stuff, and the more questions she asked the more shaken-up we got until we almost felt like crying from shock but nothing happened. We're losing so much time and we NEVER REALIZED IT until she started asking things we never would have considered asking ourselves.
"Who eats" is tricky enough, Emmett should be the one eating but that's been very rare over the past few months. We don't know who eats lately, but so many people are tied to pain and purging and maintenance that it's a little easier to get a grip on that.
But then she asked, "who cooks? Who cleans? Who does finances? Who goes to the doctor? " etc. We have absolutely no idea. And as we looked, hoping to find answers, we found that there was no data. We don't know who cooks or cleans or does finances or goes to the doc because for the most part, there's NO MEMORY OF THOSE THINGS. There's some vague "location" data, of course, the eyes are always seeing… but as for actual conscious stuff? Movement, talking, choices? None. There's nothing. And THAT'S scary.
She asked who exercised. We mentioned that weird faceless beige-tan guy who showed up last summer on the elliptical, and who keeps flickering in and out. But we also mentioned that exercise is dangerous, TERRIBLY dangerous, and the reason why we were out of shape for years is that originally we couldn't exercise without getting hacked. Which was bad. Running outside is safe but we can't do that until our surgery heals.
"Who writes, who does art, who does music," she asked. Another worrisome question. Creativity was always very separate from our System in order to protect it, because if hacks/ etc. ever touched the Leagueworld stuff, we'd die. Quite literally. Everything would go to hell. So no one in our System did art, except Jewel, who broke off from us during the lost years. Razor tried but couldn't tap in. We have some musicians, notably Glissando, but Nienna and Zwei like to sing and Einsatz likes to listen. Problem is, for unknown reasons music is also tied to mania, so we are actually terrified to play the piano anymore because then that one girl comes out and goes nuts, and her energy signature is like a circuit breaker shorting out, blowing up. She's dangerous and we do not like her. She's part of why we stopped singing for over a year once the dysphoria got bad. It would trigger her and then things would-- again-- go to hell. And hacks would happen in her wake too! So that wasn't good either. Writing, though, that's our field now… sadly, for some part, as Jewel lives to write and she hasn't in a very long time. We used to have a poet, we don't know where they went. We lost a lot of our writers, actually. Those of us who write in the Archives… we''re a different breed. This is just talking onto paper. I'm one, Simeon is listed, one girl who "hates the mother" and goes by "Jess" because she can't find another name. She spoke here for a bit before, her energy sticks. Jay types, Laurie has typed before, not often but she has. Sherlock types. Mulberry did once, I can see the text in my mind. But yeah. That was an easier question to answer.
"Who does self-care," the therapist asked. No one. Cannon put a stop to it in 2009 or so, with the dysphoria and hacks and atonement, and since then it's been very bad, minimal really. Bathrooms in general are hack-places and we don't like spending longer in one than we have to.
"Who went to school," was the last question. Cannon, that we know. She took the one art class, that unannounced decided to make her do figure drawing. And all hell broke loose. AGAIN. It's ridiculous how often that has happened. Where is it coming from?? Why??
But we don't know who else was at the first college, other than Glissando, who was only there to sit at her laptop and write music. Spinny got in the way there sometimes, but she was manic and negative and not really a "person." We don't know who went to the second college. We don't know who went to high school or elementary school. Blame the social interaction, I guess, or at least the threat of it. Thank God we were ignored for the most part!

I can't type anymore. Apparently my attitude is detrimental? Or at least not nice, or fitting. It's "rude" without meaning to be rude is what I'm getting. Sorry guys. I'm out of here.

We'll write the memory data down tomorrow, when we have appropriate time. Now is too late.
I cannot tell you much else for tonight; there is a pervading sadness and helpless frustration that is being exacerbated by the heat in this room and the company here. I do not want to mire in this mindset so I am going to attempt to unplug the mind for as long as possible to allow it to heal. Good night.




…Hold up, no. Don't end this yet.
This is Jay. I usually show up at the end, sorry for that, but it feels fitting.
Knife just walked up to me, in tears, asking "what happened," and I just felt… more complete, more whole than I have in… I want to say "years," but it's probably just days. Days are becoming mini-lifetimes by now, in any case.
But there he was, crying, knowing there was pain, asking where all the blood came from, what happened?? We looked, it wasn't bad actually, nothing deep like Razor does, nothing major. But it had happened, that fact alone was heartbreaking. Knife said Julie was totally distraught, and honestly guys I am not surprised, because I saw her sitting by herself after that hack on Sunday, and the look on her face just ached to see. It was grim, determined, almost too stoic to decipher-- but there was this knowing in her eyes and a pain in her posture that I understood too well. She hasn't forgotten what brought her to where she is now. She knows what happens with hacks. And they are still happening. That look was something I can't put into words, but it broke my heart to see it, and God knows I want this to stop just as much as she does.
But then there's the lack of emotion. There it is, the Plague. It sneaks into my confetti-colored head and it smiles, and it tries to make me believe that it's fine that hacks are happening, why do you care? It's not real, who cares! Except I'm re-reading Young Wizards and that thing feels way too much like the Lone Power.
Oh. About that. Yesterday I power-read through the entirety of High Wizardry, which we originally read over a decade ago, and which there was only the faintest recognition of. The last chapter was a roller coaster of an experience, and the last 20 pages or so had me in legitimate tears. I will not spoil it for you (good Lord go read it) but I will say that I actually had to stop, two or three times, because there was such powerful relevance to headspace and I kept thinking Infi, Infi, this is all Infinitii's message-- and when I closed the book around 1AM ze was there, and I was a mess, and I cannot forget what happened in those first moments.
I was crumpled up in a corner somewhere, in headspace, in a bright place of white light… but miserable. The final chapter of the book had forced me to realize just how much awfulness was in me, in our collective self-- all the selfishness, the bitterness, the dishonesty, the rage, every derivation of negative death, every contribution to entropy. I saw it all and I felt every regret we had and it ripped through me like a blade and I was devastated, I couldn't bear it. I ended up in that corner, wanting to just disappear, ashamed to exist with all that trailing me, us. And then something velvet-black against the light walked over, paused, looked down with something untranslatable in its many eyes, and said: "Jay.
You do realize, I know all of those things, completely?"
I did realize, and the aching shame was unendurable. I said nothing.
"I still love you."
I looked up then, self-hatred and disbelief coloring me bitter.
"How could you?"
At that, Infinitii's expression softened, just a little, just enough.
"How could I not?"
So that was that.
Sorry I can't quite do it justice. We spoke for a bit after that and it felt so entirely cathartic I was shocked; I couldn't remember the last time this chest felt so clear.

Here are some other bits of data the other writers here forgot to/ didn't know about to mention--
- I knew I was in trouble Sunday morning but the body was so exhausted we had no choice but to sleep. I went to Javier's room and slept there hoping he could help protect me, but apparently when I sleep I get "yanked out" of headspace and so he was helpless. He also was not at fault, which I had to emphasize when I returned and he was almost hysterical with misplaced remorse.
- Lynne slept over in my room on Saturday night I think? Just for fun, as I'd been talking to her all that day and anyway I miss the platonic closeness I used to have with everyone. So that was nice.
- I was also talking to Kyanos on Saturday night, as we did our nightly walk. His eyes glow, he does have stained-glass wings, which he said settled in after he was assigned his surname (Kathedrikos).
- I'm trying to tap into people's energy fields again, upstairs. Scent is the easiest as it's the most ethereal, so I'm starting there. Lynne is still rosin/ violin wood/ peaches, while Laurie is still blood/ steel/ lightning. There's also this odd subtle "vibe" to them both that I found interesting-- kind of how for a lot of people, the smell of homemade bread has a "vibe" of comfort and security, due to associations with that sort of environment. Lynne, unsurprisingly, has the vibe of our old violin music school-- comforting and bright, but warm and safe, without feeling "stagnant" like a home. There was a slight bright edge of excitement to it, the knowledge that you were "on the road" but that place was a safe haven in the meantime. Lots of warmth. Laurie, though, has this somewhat personal vibe of protection, again unsurprisingly. But I say "personal" in that Lynne's vibe is more "expansive," like it feels bigger, while Laurie's is very contained, just me and her really, without being "too close." It's basically the knowledge that she's got your back, elaborated into something that feels, oddly, just as "at home" as Lynne does in a different way. Just wanted to mention that.
- Marigold smells like marigolds, the bright warm summery kind. David smells like a blanket (a very cute scent actually) and freshly fallen snow (which surprised me). I can't tune into Jeremiah's field yet-- he's too reticent, which is understandable and okay. Kyanos is-- as he was-- fresh morning air with a late note of honey. Nathaniel smells like a tree. It's hilarious. It's extremely subtle; leaves don't have much of a scent as-is but it's unmistakable. And there's this over-scent I cannot place, something very fine and silvery, delicate stuff. It's not mint, there was some once but there's none now. Leon, though, has this unusual smell of something like brass? I briefly tuned in and I got that vibe-- not the sharp metallic scent some metals have, but this oddly warm and golden tune. And there's something over it that's either vanilla or frankincense and I cannot tell. It's really interesting, as I haven't "checked" on anyone's energy like this in a while and it's amazing to see how it varies over time, with people. Lastly, though, I am happy to report that Knife is still all woodsmoke, but I'm thinking that odd sweet-rich undertone is actually roses, like old dried roses or something. I don't know. It's been ages since I last smelled one but I'll have to find one now, see if the data matches up. Anyway that's that, sorry for the rambling but this is really fascinating to me and I value it.

I tend to get larger blocks of residual data than others, and I'm present for Upstairs stuff typically, so there you go. It is important to write this down. Attention gives power. Attention needs to go to us.

There's a lot that still needs to be written (especially about therapy last week, which I'm working on, and the "memory list" we apparently need to write? oh, and a list of "safe places" for therapy this week) but I'm starting to get slippery. It's late anyway, we need sleep.

I haven't read a jot of this entry at the time of posting this, so I apologize if there's anything unfinished or in need of editing… I have no idea who wrote what, as usual. But I'm glad something was written.

We'll try again tomorrow. Here's to that.

 




 

 

 

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.

 

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


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.

 

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

 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

 

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.

 



prismaticbleed: (Default)

 


Bit of an overdue update! Let me just write down what's important for now.

 

First, I forgot to write this down before but I want to record it:
A little over a week ago was Friday the 13th, which is Josephina's official "unbirthday" (he first appeared to us on one in 2010). So he and Waldorf celebrated by lounging around in Central, loudly singing this song and eating two entire boxes of chocolate fudge cookies (they had three, but I gave Xenophon one).
I just thought that was hilarious.

Algorith, David, and Marigold all fronted for some time on Tuesday or so? We forgot to update that day. That was important because it actually shed a lot more light on the roles of the children-- notably, more specifics on what they're afraid of, and why. David is infamously afraid of "the mother," but it seems his fears aren't rooted to anything we can find? And with recent events (she's been SUPER nice lately), he's starting to warm up to her, not as a mother but as a good person separate from the fears he's held towards her. That's really fantastic. Marigold, on the other hand, is the panicky one, but she's afraid of (again) some unknown threat from adult women? Like in general. But she, too, is learning with every non-dangerous exposure that she IS protected, and that she is not at risk, and the anxiety she holds is going down. I wish I remembered more specifics for that day but I apologize, as it's too long afterwards to reach the brief data anymore.

Algorith seems to be acting as a sort of "casual protector" to the two children; she obviously cares for them but leaves the actual close care to Jeremiah (everyone does really). Also, Algorith has a notable "accent" of sorts when she fronts. I have no idea what its roots are, maybe New York? Headvoices pick speaking styles out of the subconscious of course, that's where we're all from, so it's not too surprising when one ends up with a unique speech style as a result. But it's great to have her suddenly in the main awareness, as she was "in the background" for a while but she's awesome (and I am rather fond of her admittedly; mostly because of her role in this dream).

Headspace has been quiet otherwise? Has it been for a while? It feels like it, but I don't remember. That made therapy on Thursday very difficult, as the "no self" residual fronter (one tied to the body; it's female) was out for most of it, and she literally cannot make any forward movement as she is "unable to act without orders" due to having "no self"-- on that note, she openly admitted that the idea of being an individual was "incomprehensible," and that she DID look with that sort of judgmental attitude on OUR ENTIRE SYSTEM, which is where a lot of the previously unidentified shame/ guilt/ self-loathing roots are from. This fronter cannot conceive of having an identity separate from what they are TOLD to be, or "expected" to be in some context. So yeah, THIS is the person who virtually makes the body "shut down" when we're alone, if she's out. She cannot "be a person" if no one is telling her how, essentially. So, strangely, she's probably more of "her own person" in that therapy office than she CAN be anywhere else, as the "contextual expectation" there is for her to BE a specific, important part of our greater whole-- therefore she ends up actually getting an actual semblance of a 'self' as a result, whether she realizes it or not. I hope that makes sense in words!

Also! Same topic, super important. Thanks to her speaking up, that session ALSO eventually shed light on WHO the "self-destructive" person is who keeps trying to utterly annihilate all of our possessions, food, archives, etc… and WHY they do that. Apparently, there is such an old and deep rage towards being FORCED to "be someone we were not," i.e. the function the self-less girl holds, that it bubbles over every time it can? But it's a paradox, as the therapist pointed out that this same self-annihilation IS what we were essentially being "told to do" for years! "You can't do/ feel/ be/ etc. that way, you have to be what WE tell you to be." And so half of our psyche nodded and obeyed, unable to even feel its own emotions… and the other half seethed with utter self-hatred, wanting nothing more than to tear that imposed self to the ground so that something REAL and honoring of our own individuality could emerge. Problem was, that seems to not have happened yet? We still struggle with "self-identity," and that self-annihilation still happens all too frequently. However we are making lots of progress here and I am very happy to say that.

Fittingly-- almost shockingly so-- on Friday morning, the grandmother (the one constant in this house) went to visit her sister for three days. So, since Friday morning, she has not been here. Why is this important? Because we nearly had an emotional breakdown yesterday over it. For some reason, that woman is viewed as 1) a cathartic "externalization" of emotions we don't know how to express on our own (she is very high-strung and so expresses a lot of emotions such as anxiety and anger and worry, negative things that we buried as a child and never really learned how to express well), therefore her absence makes us boil over with childhood fears and tears and shakes, and 2) as a "safety net" against these same emotions, because for whatever reason, without another human being in the house, we are terrified to do a lot of things. For the past 48 hours we've been too scared to eat or sleep, for heaven's sakes, because there's "no one there to protect and/or comfort us if something goes wrong." Where did that mindset come from? We don't know, nor do we know why it is there. But we didn't even KNOW it was there until yesterday, so we are thankful for that.

The scariest bit about yesterday, though, was the loneliness. Headspace was absent for the entirety of the day, as the person fronting was purely downstairs-based (may have even been the self-less person from thursday) and so felt utterly isolated from everything internal. Genesis did show up in the evening and Jay ended up following suit, as he was out for most of today. But that 24+ hours of total existential emptiness was awful. That's a topic we need to rediscuss later, what with worries about integration and the like, but it's a terribly heartwrenching topic so we won't do that tonight.

Today we realized that we are not a good listener. That was humbling. People let us talk for huge stretches of time-- usually to explain or lecture-- but as a result, our mindset switches to "output, not input." And then it's difficult to listen to feedback unless we actively realize that we are talking TO people, not AT them. Again, a good thing to be reminded of. We'll take extra effort here.

As a result of that talking, we took a HUGE jump as far as courage goes, because we realized a big root of the eating disorder! Most of our digestive issues are purely psychosomatic-- our docs have been shrugging at our "perfect" test results and poor health for years-- but pinpointing the causes has been tricky. We think we have the main ones now!
1) Back in 2012, living with someone who had bad allergies, we internalized the message of "if she gets sick, YOU have to get sick too, or it's not fair for her." This is totally untrue but it is probably the strongest roadblock keeping us from being healthy, as it became globalized at some point.
2) Thanks to being hyper-religious about online data at one point, some child voice in the system (unidentified, but a clear speaker!) has labeled certain foods as "bad" or "evil," if even one person said they were "incorrect" according to some diet or belief system or whatever. Again, this quickly became globalized (as everyone has differing and conflicting opinions!) and it quickly made daily life almost unbearable as well, because mostly everything became "wrong" to that voice, and it would not eat ANYTHING out of sheer paralyzing terror of "getting sick as punishment for doing the wrong thing." Of course, the outside voices didn't help this, because they WOULD punish us for not following their orders, and have also told us multiple times-- upon eating perfectly harmless foods-- that "we would die" as a result of eating something they did not give us permission to. Since this condemnation was often followed BY panic attacks or similarly severe symptoms, it stuck, even though it was false and cruel.

However. After those points hit us, we remembered something we read a while back-- that D.I.D. patients often showed allergies in one alter, and NONE in another! Now that's the SAME BODY, but different minds. That shows that this sort of thing IS mental. After all, an "allergy" is essentially just the body treating a food as a danger, and attacking it. And aren't we currently labeling FOOD in general as a "danger?" You see the problem! But we KNOW that's incorrect, we know that we're safe, that these things aren't threats, that we are completely ALLOWED AND ABLE to eat without suffering or worrying about "doing something wrong." Mr. Sandman has been helping on this-- he is no longer an Outspacer, but he still offers unfailing benevolent guidance, and the trust in him is complete. So if he assures us that we are safe, that we are not sick, etc., we will believe it and this can make or break such an ED situation depending on who is fronting. You get the picture, I hope. I'm just so thankful we made this much headway on healing this.

As a result of that we DID eat a meal with actual calories in it this evening, and no one threw it up afterwards, which took a lot of guts actually. But there were like 6 people working together positively there and it happened, and we didn't get sick either! So that is a big accomplishment actually.

We haven't been able to exercise well in a while due to being sick from food or the lack thereof, so we will make a stronger effort to get that back in the schedule now that we're being more caring and careful with the body.

On that note, again. Chaos 0 has (amusingly but fittingly) again proven to be one of our best defenses against negative actions there. Since he and Jay are so strongly tied, if he sticks around when Jay is out, his very presence will virtually eliminate all chances of a self-destructive or otherwise detrimental fronter from showing up and making us sick or otherwise hurt. I say this is fitting because he was the Outspacer with the "Body/Strength" aspect, and he has never failed to protect the one that we are in. He deserves all our thanks for that.

Laurie keeps asking us to have a Xanga session, as we haven't had one since before the December event, and one is sorely needed. Last night would have been ideal, but we got "distracted" doing Dream World character designs and Laurie says that was a "perfectly good use of the time" so not worry about it.

There are probably a few things I've forgotten, but as of now I think that brings us back up to a decent speed.

Jay here, for a minute. There is a lot of hope tonight, again! I love this feeling, tuning back into it.
More than anything though I want to tune into headspace as completely as I can remember, even just in data. I can feel the total closeness in a lot of these memories, all the headspace events, like when we found the BLC and when I had to save Infi, even if my personal memories are blurry or absent. No matter though. Timelines are weird, love is real, I'm not worried. We're moving forward and every step is an adventure. That's all I'm going to say, anything else feels superfluous. I'm so happy we're alive right now, all of us together. I'm so thankful we have this. That's the truest thing I can admit tonight.

Good night everyone, let's keep learning and growing and feeling and dreaming. Life's pretty cool, to say the least. ♥

 

prismaticbleed: (held)

Energy for headspace people!
Sight: What their energy field looks like, literally. (OR: a "realm-like" manifestation of their energy??)
Sound: New perception. Difficult to pick up on; indirect.
Smell: The 'vibe' of their energy; most easily perceived.
Touch: The actual physical 'feel' of their energy-- like touching their 'aura.'
Taste: New perception. Difficult to pick up on; indirect.
Vibe: The overall perceived effect their energy on their personal presence, especially in charged situations.



(UNFINISHED. Will add as I get information.)


SPINE HYPOMONE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Cool stone, a hint of cocoa or something?
Touch: Dry, but smooth; reassuringly solid yet not heavy. Like a bone.
Taste:
Vibe:


AIMEE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like something baking in an oven? Not bread! Comforting,
Touch: Soft but "primal?" Like minky or even chamois, but with a subtle gamey sort of heat to it.
Taste:
Vibe:


SPICE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Strong cinnamon, nutmeg, maybe clove? Very warm yet grounded, no 'pinch.'
Touch: Surprisingly sparked? Like little sharp pricks of heat?
Taste: Think pie spices, then crank it up to eleven. Warm and autumny, but hits like a punch to the mouth!
Vibe:


OVERLOAD
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch: Incredibly volatile base, like if you push a tiny bit too hard it will explode terribly.
Taste:
Vibe:


BRAXTON
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch: A small soft edge, but with a huge power underneath it.
Taste:
Vibe:



JAVIER ANASTASI
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Cloves?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:



PREVIOUS J (SPLINTERED INTO EROS)
Sight: Deep red-velvet waves; flows like heavy satin. Has an 'unseen' glow like an ivory candle. 'Sparkly' thin edge, like a glitter-glass ornament
Sound: Subsonic: a soundless hum that resonates in the chest; almost rhythmic, like heart energy, but unbroken. Has an oddly Nier-like, rich symphonic feel despite this.
Smell: Like fire,
Touch: Intimately warm, has a sort of gentle 'pull' to it
Taste: Rich like warm raspberry sauce, but with a dense 'sorbet' texture? Non-sugary sweetness.
Vibe: Emotionally close, compassionate, soft. Limitless but not oppressive. Powerfully protective yet tranquil; like being embraced by a winter fireplace. Sunlit stained-glass.


RAZOR
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Blood and paper, very specific
Touch: Like the sharp, slick edge of a blade: on the boundary between safe/smooth, and slicing your hand open. Gives you chills.
Taste: Like a wound? Hot with an edge of blood but that's not prevalent. Oddly sweet, but the sensation is unsettling.
Vibe: Oddly neutral, but with a nervous undertone on 'standby.'



LYNNE STABELLE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Violin rosin and burnished wood, like the inside of a violin
Touch: Heavy satin? Warm, but in a 'glowing' sense. Like a roll of it too?
Taste:
Vibe:


KALISHA
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Peach brandy?? Light scent but still notable.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


HYAKINTH
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Creamsicle and some sort of strong white flower?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


FIG
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Honey! Very heady, heavy sweet.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


ALGORITH
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Not much, mostly the 'flatness' of technology. Subtle scent of live machinery, like a hot computer tower.
Touch:
Taste: Warm metal with a vague aura of persimmon or something??
Vibe:


JOSEPHINA BELLAMEIRE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Bubblegum and brandy? Can't quite pick it up yet.
Touch:
Taste: Cane sugar with a bunch of either lemon (flavor, not citrus) or ginger? Cookie-sweet, but with a bright heat to it.
Vibe: City night-life lights, but unfocused;


SIMEON
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Something like custard or banana cream, but with nowhere near as much sugar?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:



MAVERICK
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Vague edge of cigarette smoke in fabric, NOT like my dad though. Think straight-up smoke.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


MARIGOLD
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Ragweed and marigold flowers, varies depending on mood?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


KARISSA
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Citrus? Like restaurant lemon???
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe: Sharp? Clean and small but cuttingly so.


NATHANIEL VICTOIRE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Mint (quiet, sweet, no bite) and forest shade. Slight fabric-esque hint?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


SERGEI
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Subtle sage smoke, undertone of something papery like thin tree bark
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


MINTY
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Mint tea and clothesline-aired plushie fluff. Happy and calming.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


EINSATZ
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch: Slight static pop?
Taste:
Vibe:


EMMETT
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a salad???? You silly snake.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


TOBIKO
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like seawater, either bad (brackish, slimy) or good (like a beach, salty with algae) depending on status
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


GARRISON
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a business suit or chair. Dude get some variety in there
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


KYANOS
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like clear cool sky, with a little tint of honey. Very light.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


WALDORF KALLIOPE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Oddly plastic or vinyl-like, but with some sort of happy heady blueberry-juice undertone?? Very 'subtle' despite its strength.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe: I'm getting an impression of a tangled knot of christmas lights, but immersed in jello or something. really odd.



MISSY
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Face powder, chokingly so, and lip gloss (strawberry? very artificial, generically 'sweet')
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


GENT
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a scarf? Odd to explain.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


NIENNA
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a jewelry box?? Not dusty, more like curtain fabric and silver?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


LEON KIASI
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Ice, with a vanilla undertone? Hard to get.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe: A nervous charge?


DAVID
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a kid's air-dried blanket, but also softly sweet? Not a bad smell at all, it's highly comforting.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


"AIRPORT"
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like an airport. Dead serious.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


LAURIE UBERICH
Sight: CHANGED: It's still halo-like, but its this intense condensed light, gold-white? Around her body I keep getting a feeling of flower petals or rose vines? not sure.
(Metallic? Broken into pieces somehow? Somewhat "radial," like a halo)
Sound:

(Somewhat dissonant, like angry church bells. Feels purposeful but pained.)
Smell:

(Blood, cold steel. Something in the background like antiseptic or a thunderstorm?)
Touch:

Sharp static "bite" at first, like barbed wire, but beneath is a solid, deep, "safe" feeling mass of energy? feels huge but reactive, like if you push too hard it'll detonate
Taste: Blood, but

(Blood again, very strong.)
Vibe:

(Overwhelmingly magnetic: black hole-grade intensity. Space 'compresses' to a dense space around her.)


CHRISTINA MARIE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like Sunday church in spring: daffodil-daisy flower bouquets and an afterthought of incense?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


ISADORA
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Grapevines?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


JULIE ENANTIOS
Sight: A layered pinkish-warm glow? Like a light orb shining through blankets. Moves languidly but not lazily. Egg-shaped?
Sound:
Smell: Roses, like the kind in the wild-- not heady at all, but sunlit and flowery light soft. Lovely really.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


SUGAR
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Something that pricks at your nose, like ice needles. Underneath, a light sweetness like
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


ASHEN
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch: Soft but terribly worn and thin, like old velvet curtains or something? Has a sense of pity but lingering loveliness to it.
Taste:
Vibe:


KNIFE
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Woodsmoke, with a deep aura-edge like blackcurrant wine or something
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


MULBERRY DELTA BRANDY
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch:
Taste: Mulberries: not overpoweringly sweet, and rather dry in a vaguely 'crisp' way
Vibe:


JEREMIAH
Sight:
Sound:
Smell:
Touch: Very soft and embracing, but closely small in the way a warm sweater is.
Taste:
Vibe:


EROS
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Cherry pie filling, not artificial. Very rich, not sugary sweet.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


SHERLOCK
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Like a library? Old slightly dusky paper, but with no musty or sweet tone. Also a clean cool metallic edge, but without any coppery 'bite.'

Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


JAY IRIDOS
Sight: Vertically limitless? Like the "heaven" in Oneircia. All white and warmly bright, vaguely gold, lit with some gorgeously loving light from above, but not blinding at all. Oddly non-spacial? Despite looking solid it feels like nothing is really there, but the light. Sparkly and quietly iridescent; everything glitters.
Sound:
Smell: Snowy,
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


XENOPHON LEPHISE
Sight: Thick and violet-pink, wavy. Inner light, held within like a neon sign, but 'radiant' in the way heat radiates.
Sound: Like a wind chime or glockenspiel
Smell: Warm, slightly humid night air, with a light and delicate sweetness-- like blackberries or bluet flowers?
Touch: Dense but glowing, warm, gives like heavy water? 'Champagne bubbles' under the surface.
Taste: Blackberries, ice water, japanese ginger? Natural cool sweetness with an almost herbal edge?
Vibe: 'Summer night' humidity, but sparkling, like the stars are pure violet glitter; understated jubilant energy. Not overpowering-- more like thick sunlit crystal


MARKUS BARASHIR
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Dry heat, mocha, ice cubes.
Touch:
Taste: Sand?
Vibe:


RYMAN SAIKARAS
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Marshmallows and dark purple candle fire.
Touch:
Taste: Vanilla?
Vibe:


CHAOS ZERO
Sight: Like the underside of an ocean; glossy, brilliant blue and backlit? Translucent.
Sound: Dare-Gale; emotions played underwater. Highly resonant, like piano keys being dropped into liquid crystal. Echoing, heart-wrenchingly sincere.
Smell: Summer rain, ocean fog. Watery, but not cold or humid.
Touch: Misty, with a bright early-morning 'chill.' Heavy but weightless.
Taste: River water and diamonds
Vibe: Oceanic, flowing, all-encompassing; gentle and 'classy' but powerful. Incredibly deep but not suffocating. Surrounds him like a quiet galaxy. 'Neon glimmer' edge.


CELEBI
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Woodsy, but with a clean edge like fresh cut wet grass?
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


GENESIS APOLYMIS
Sight: 'Thin gold streamers,' moving upwards. Bokeh-like underglow.
Sound: Resonant, warm and deliberate like a golden bell.
Smell: Burnt sugar and ozone? Like butterscotch syrup over an open flame. Rich but not heady.
Touch: Charged like static, but 'sustained' like a plasma globe.
Taste: Warm cotton candy with a strong ginger-like kick? Has a caramelized but clean tint to it.
Vibe: Sharp, almost buzzing, but bright and optimistic.


INFINITII ETERNOS
Sight: A sort of vast shadowy expanse, infinite and star-specked, but with a brilliant light at its heart. The shadows are wispy and soft like clouds, and flow gently around the light. There is a sense of great space and yet incredible closeness; the light is warm and loving like a heart, but although the shadows are colder and thin, giving a feeling of endless vastness, their constant movement around that light keeps the love within them.
Sound: (like "lux aeterna?" choral? sustained, hugely echoic. numinous)
Smell: Cold night air, with a hint of mountain laurel (flowers and incense??)
Touch:
Taste:
rich mouthfeel; taste is enigmatic.
Vibe: Like velvet or a silken shadow; limitless but soft and intimate. Embracing. VERY deep; you fall into hir really.


CHOCOLOCO
Sight:
Sound:
Smell: Dark chocolate, cacao nibs, dark coffee. Mostly rich and bitter, just a hint of dark sweetness to it.
Touch:
Taste:
Vibe:


 

 

badthouhts

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

 


 

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

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


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


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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 




 

 

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

 

Just a quick update, even though it's 1:30AM, I have no idea where the past several hours went, and I feel halfway between sobbing and laughing out loud. I'm also spectacularly tired even though Jewel is still bursting with energy upstairs, but she says "you should get some sleep" so hey.
Anyway. Updates have been slow lately. I've been... fractured? Off. I'm having a hard time grounding into myself. Of course, part of that is likely because I've been so rooted in the Pokémon world lately. We have 140+ hours in Y, but we beat the League yesterday, so now it's just Pokédex work (which Jewel insists we let her help with), and post-game stuff. But there's no longer that drive" behind it, now that we completed the plot part. Even so... that's topic one. Let's start that list actually.

Things to discuss in the near future:

1. Pokémon. It's this weird anchor we've been tiptoeing around since Jewel was born over a decade ago. I infamously tend to "melt into" video games, especially if I "am" the player character... feeling as if I am literally part of that universe, mentally and physically. I used to get terrifying fiction lag from games as a result, and stopped gaming altogether for years for that and other reasons... but when we got a surprise 3DS for Christmas, we couldn't resist trying again. And I am so glad that we did.
I've personally never played Pokémon before. Someone else played Pearl & Black, as I literally have no memories of either (Ruby is clear in some spots, as Jewel shares her memories with me). So Y was my first time, and really, it is incredible. I love my team so much. That's really why I can't say I regret any of those 140 hours. We've had laughter, tears, shock, suspense, love, the whole spectrum of experiences together within those two tiny screens, and that blows my mind really. I didn't expect this at all but Jewel knew it would happen, just like it did for her, and I am seriously grateful, that she let me be the one to participate in that world, this time.
So. I want to devote at least one entry here, entirely to talking about those experiences. I'm dead serious. I owe my 'mons that much.

2. Headspace events since Christmas. Yes, it's been frighteningly quiet since the massacre. Yes, everyone is struggling to rebuild. And yes, communication has been at a numbingly awful all-time low. But that is NO reason to ignore it when things do happen, which we updaters have apparently been inexplicably doing.
Many of the benevolent "social voices" have disappeared. David won't wake up, and Marigold only shows up to scream in panic again. The Undergrounders in general feel utterly displaced, and broken. Chaos seems to have left us, Genesis is a rare sight now, and Infi is fading in and out of comprehension. There are a few "new" faces. The old malevolent voices are louder than ever. Julie is a phoenix. Do you see what I mean? None of this has really been discussed, and frankly it scares me to death to look into my own mind, and see nothing. Nothing. Memory in general is scarce. I feel like I'm dying in several different ways at once.

3. The downstairs life. Maybe. We are struggling right now. Possibly because headspace was annihilated after the massacre, and therefore there was a very existentially disturbing period when life itself seemed to have been crushed as well... but either way, without the assistance from the benevolent people inside, daily functions have become distressingly difficult. I don't want to go in-depth now, but let me just say that we're floundering. Self-care is abysmal. Finances keep disappearing. Motivation is scarce. The nightmares of suicide and rape have returned. We're both starving ourselves of rest and/or sleeping 10+ hours every night. We're eating once or twice a day and throwing up most of it. And all the while this emotional turmoil inside is eating us alive. And yet, saying "us" with this feels like a bald-faced lie. There's no "us" right now, and that's the problem. It's just me and Jewel, mostly, trying our best... the Archivists contributing once in a long while... and then these unknown, traumatized individuals showing up at the worst times to run the show. This is like 2013 times two, in terms of bizarre resets and revelations, and it's only February. I have hope, I can't let go of it... but I won't lie, it's difficult as hell when I feel as empty as an endless white void inside. It feels like someone threw the OFF switch. And this feeling is the scariest thing I've ever known.

4. Therapy. Miraculously, Sherlock has been taking care of this. We've had barely any appointments since the massacre, due to holiday break, snow days, and someone deciding that "we don't need therapy anymore!" and cancelling at least two of our regular appointments. And two of our actual appointments were spent trying to get a foothold on what was happening, after everyone "died." So there really wasn't any forward movement until the past two weeks, when Sherlock suddenly and incredibly decided to break out the books and discuss everything buried in our past, at a point when everyone thought he was dead! So that's good, at least. Therapy is a safe haven for people to front, so even when things are numb outside of that little room, once we're in it, things feel a bit more alive. It's a sanctuary of hope right now. We need to hold on to that.
We're wondering... should we ask her to randomly name some of us? Often, if someone is called out, they can come out, even if they're hidden. It's like handing them an anchor, or a rope, to climb to safety. If that makes sense? This isn't Jay, he's too tired and a bit shaken, I think he went to sleep. so I should close this up.
Therapy. Topics are big. Triggers are found, identified, some solved and nullified, others realized just how huge and important they are.
Still having trouble sleeping, Marigold terrified, Jeremiah wants them out of there. What can we do? Minty trying to help. someone mentioned this previously. But it's a good prologue, to show that yes we DO still exist, broken and lost somewhat, but alive. In tatters, but alive.
Knife and Razor are struggling. What do they do now? Razor wants to be an artist, no one will let her out. Knife wants to protect his fellows, he feels powerless. Sugar is missing. Mulberry has more hope than the others but even she wonders, what do we do as a System? Algorith is neither here nor there. She hasn't spoken much, one of the only survivors.
Central is quiet. Very quiet. It's unsettling. Very much so. Not sure why... why is it so silent, where is everyone, did they leave?
Where do we go from here? That is our question.

Last note. Someone keeps wondering, "borderline personality disorder." Remove the label, discuss the symptoms that cause the worry. First, "black and white thinking." Today, last night. Someone they were terrified of, almost hated due to fear, "this person is scary"... asked them, can you return something to me. They said yes. Instantaneously, the response inside-- "they are wonderful, how did we ever dislike them, we must become friends with them again!" the fear of abandonment now that this person was "wonderful and perfect" again. But! They do one thing harmful again, even unintentionally, as always-- now no physical terror, but still in words can be-- one thing happens to cause fear or regret or shame, then "leave them. leave them and forget they exist, they are a burden on our progress, they are unneeded." and so the cycle continues. Jay is disturbed by this, who is responsible? Why thinking that way? We do not know. But there it is. To the point where, one is wondering, "should we ask the other one to write that story for us," as she offered last year, and we never responded due to shame, "if we accepted the offer, it would be greedy and loathsome and selfish. we would be abusing her kindness." so we refused all gifts. but, if we asked and she said yes, she too would become perfect and wonderful again, a friend, safe. and yet the risk is there! if she says no! if she does something else, even unrelated to us, that is interpreted as harmful or spiteful. then she is cruel again... it's hell.
It's hell, and I don't know who's thinking that way, but they are so loud and I can't exactly run from these people without leaving the planet, as they exist. But every time I so much as see their name on a page, guess what? These internal voices freak out and start screaming and fretting about it. I try to ignore them, but they don't stop, and with all that noise, the psychosomatic pain is hard to ignore for very long.

I'm sorry. I am literally losing the capacity to type, it's going for 3AM and God only knows why I'm not asleep yet. This is hellish too, it feels like life is an interim again... and dear God, I just realized, this is the first time I've used a laptop at the kitchen table since 2009. This exact spot. No wonder the awful miasma of depression is lingering so heavily. I'm probably catching that old timeline.
Time to go, then. I don't need to be here. Good night.

(jewel says, last minute! don't give up hope guys. i know it's tough but we can find SOMETHING to hold on to. not sure what yet. but hold on. laurie's got lanterns, i know she doesn't really know me but i've heard about her. jay you should totally go BUY a lantern and put it in your room, that way you will always have a safe reminder, and protection against hacks too, i don't want those things happening to you again after how hard you've tried to heal and purify that stuff. so yeah. hope. like HOOPA. that's your legendary dude!! i'm either a victini or a celebi so... victory and peace, there you go, i'll help you with both of that too. now g'night, don't let the bed bugs bite even if you think they're cute, i know you're weird like that. haha. but i love ya dude you're the best bro-friend i've had in years. maybe even the best ever! and that's saying something! but really you're super cool and super nice too, i worry about you when you get sick like this, i want to see you happy too. so i'll help, whenever ya need me. that's a guarantee. now get some sleep!! say hi to tōshi for me, good night ♥)

 

 

120513

Dec. 5th, 2013 12:15 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 
I was created to be a destroyer figure. I was supposed to thrash the literal hell out of whatever malicious forces had the nerve to stick their ugly heads up here.
But now I'm not allowed to do anything. I can't remember the last time I did my job the way I'm supposed to. The heck is this? Did the game change that much?
Don't get me wrong, I'd LOVE to not have to chop things into bloody pieces anymore. Problem is, there's still a heck of a lot of things in this headspace that NEED to be introduced to my axe, and I'm being forbidden from sending out the invitations, you hear me?
I'm angry. I'm really bloody angry. We're in therapy and we're running in circles with the same freakin' things we've been hiding from since this disaster started. I want this hell to be DONE WITH.
Is leaving it all in the past to gather dust really the best option here? We're walking into the future with absolutely nothing behind us, because the kid refuses to take anything with him. Forget carry-on luggage, we don't even have a freakin' suitcase. Just the clothes on our backs. Is that enough?
Honestly, I hope so. I'm tired.
But I'm even more tired of the fact that we've done this before, and nothing was solved. It just compounded the problem. I'm bloody tired of running, and if someone would just LET me stand my ground for once, maybe something would get done around here.
I don't know. Just gotta let off some steam. It's been a while since I was able to talk, you know.

 

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

 

 @ 12:15 am

 

God help us, tonight has been difficult as hell.

To whatever kid showed up in the bathroom: I'm here for ya. Whoever the heck you are, you've got a friend in me, aiite? We'll find you a name.
To Algorith: you freakin' pretentious prick, wearing sunglasses indoors at 12 in the bloody morning. Still, thanks for getting us out of that tight situation. Talk to me, let's get this straightened out. I know you're just flying solo but I do not need any more rogues in this system.
To Jay: all you need to know is that you were untouched by this. Even I have to force that to be true. You're spotless.
To Infi: I am so sorry.

 

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

 

@ 12:26 am

 

Alrite, Algorith here. Updating because I have a solemn duty to do that.

I'm out in the body after whatever just went down that ended with the body lying on the bedroom floor like a zombie. I'm sure I could access the data but something tells me I dont wanna look at it.
Judging by the fact that I'm out Im gonna guess it was a hack. Not cool. Not like I can do anything about it now though,

I;ve changed, since the last time I was out. I can feel it. The retributors are all being made to change. Guess I was next in line.
Shoot I'm real upset now. Sorry about the typing problems, its awkward.

 

Oh come on, ze was wearing sunglasses indoors.
I swear, I am so fed up with this. Listen, this is Laurie. I had to punch through because this needs to be written down whether I like it or not.
There was a hack, Algorith was right. Infi was the one it went through, I guess, according to what data I got.
Bunch of blindly manic fronting after it went down, I'd assume. There was at attempted
system reset of all godforsaken things, that I had to drag Jay out of, just barely grabbed him. I think he's regressed again, great, just what I need on top of all this. Then he slipped out and I was stuck with this nameless little kid who was too bloody tired to even walk, let alone anything else. Then whaddya know, the freakin' grandmother just HAD to walk in right then, and we had one hell of a meltdown. Geez. I'm really tired of dealing with this.
Marigold was triggered by this, that scared the wits out of me because she wasn't just panicking, she was convinced that not breathing would somehow keep the danger from "seeing her." So the poor kid is trying to hold her breath indefinitely, all while scared to death, so I had to literally reach in and yank her out of there.
Knife showed up to comfort her, wondering what the heck was going on that was setting off so many alarm bells, and then... then I don't bloody know.
There's vague data. There was SEVERE triggering right then, practically broke the fronting consciousness in half. Whoever the heck came out then, they were mute and shaking so badly I can't believe they were still standing. Whenever the heck they got out of there, they apparently zombie-walked into their room? That's the data description, I don't know. All I do know is that they promptly collapsed onto the floor like a rag doll because I tried to get in there and quickly get it to somewhere safe, but then Algorith took over and now we're in the kitchen, so there you go.

Just... God help us Why the heck does this keep happening. And why the heck does it keep targeting the System cores? The heck is going on?
I apologize for the profuse amount of minced oaths here but that's what happens when I'm ticked off, tired, and existentially exhausted. I don't burst into tears, I start spitting nails. Gotta keep my edge up, y'know?

Anyway I guess I should let Algorith back in here. Let them do their job, whatever. It is far too hard to front in this body, the dysphoria is a pain in the back. Its difficult to work a body that's not yours when every surreal second reminds you that hey, that's not my face, these aren't my hands, you get the picture.

Sorry for this bad news. It's been a bad night.
Wish I could say something uplifting, but I'm at a loss. I'm really at a loss right now.
G'night, for all it's worth.


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

 
@ 11:19 pm

 

quick fragmented update because today was really rough.


crazy fronting this evening
self abusive meltdown caused it I think.
no idea when or how that started, but then cannon came out
shocked that it wasn’t 2009
"I cant do this anymore," but scared of dying from an infection or allergy from the cuts
talking to angels or guides, "don't hurt me," but still trusting.
little yellow boy was out? only a little but his energy is getting clearer.
DAVID was out for a minute in the kitchen; he was stuttering and crying
JEREMIAH took over for him, and that was a shock because he fronted REALLY loudly; he was so genuine, wow. sobbing, hands in hair, upset because he knew these was abuse and figured it was from a hack he didn't buffer, "who had to feel that pain?"
went upstairs, data voices being really loud, he left?
fronters really messy for a while
some "new" person came out to talk to the mother, didn’t know who she was
walked into room, talked to data voices, kept asking how to find a name
jayce took over momentarily, got his fedora, is he STILL pinstripe?? if so we need to review his role!
then someone went in kitchen and sat down with the inpatient hospital papers
the "autistic kid" came out, rubbing table, didn’t talk. wonder who he is?
then sherlock took over, went to get his glasses (he has trouble seeing without them?) and started reviewing the inpatient hospitals. wrote a page! handwriting is all angles, almost greek
after him, one of the young girls wrote a page of 'what to buy,' after that no idea what happened

 

 

 

 

 



oct 31

Oct. 31st, 2013 10:27 pm
prismaticbleed: (held)

 

 


Yesterday was, admittedly, a severely abusive day. Today was similar, but far more merciful (no hacks today, but still lots of pain, dissociation, and self-abuse of various sorts).
But it's hilariously odd. I've noticed that every time, EVERY time we have a terrifying day like yesterday, something happens to somehow redeem the whole thing. Something will happen that doesn't ignore the sins preceding it, but forgives them... and, even more incredibly, shows how they paved a painful but necessary pathway to some wisdom, some healing, some bright thing we may not have stumbled across otherwise. Every time. Whether that blessed event is "small or large" doesn't matter; in its significance, it is received with infinite gratitude.

Last night, I (J) went to bed with a splitting sugar headache, vague knowledge that there had been an evening hack, and general unease and chest pain that made sleeping rather frightening. The day had been highly dissociative and honestly I don't remember the vast majority of it today. Nevertheless, last night, I lay down in great pain with a pervasive feeling of anxiety, and that odd "fear of death" that frequently accompanies me to sleep when I am ill: since our psych ward hospitalization in 2011, where our meds gave the body weeks of ER-worthy side effects that would always slam us at night, any nighttime uneasiness brings with it the somnolent dread that I am not going to wake up the next morning. However, In light of how awful yesterday had made me feel, that dread became a conviction. Feeling a panic attack of the moral sort coming on to top it all off, I immediately called my boss (Mr. Sandman) for emotional support, trusting in his compassion despite how tainted I felt. He showed up, concerned, and I told him my worries, feeling too penitent and heartbroken to care about any sense of pride or reluctance to admit everything that had happened, focusing only on the guilt and sorrow I felt for causing another one of these nights, and the sister sensation to pain, which was total childlike contrition. I don't recall what I said, just that I was sorry and wanted my boss to know that, so he didn't think I was just taking advantage of his kindness. He didn't think that in the first place, as I should have known. I clearly remember him telling me that it was safe to cry if I needed to (as I actually was), he would never chide me for that-- only, he told me to remember that the pains were not permanent, even if they felt that way, so even through tears I should keep that in mind. He also reassured me that "tonight was not my time to die," and coming from a guy whose best friend is Death, that did calm me down quite a bit. I was still scared and in pain, but I knew I'd have to just wait it out now. Boss told me to simply sleep, as I needed it. I timidly told him falling asleep was scary, could he help a little? He smiled and said yes, he'd spare a little dream dust for that. Looking back on this I feel like I was making way too many demands of the guy, but considering how much of a mess I was, and how generous boss is, I don't have the heart to chastise myself for it... especially because of the last thing I asked him for. After he told me to sleep, I thanked him for all his help as always, but as he turned to leave I quickly told him to wait one second. Then, I quietly asked if he could kiss my forehead before he left, because that always made me feel a lot safer, plus I had a splitting headache. He smiled at that, a genuine spontaneous smile that already made me feel better, and then he kissed me goodnight before bowing and leaving for the night. It took a few seconds, but suddenly I noticed that my headache was gone. The awful pain that had been haunting me for hours had literally just disappeared. I would have started laughing if I had the strength to do so; I could barely believe it. But I was grateful, and I fell asleep quickly afterwards.
That was the first little thing, that not only gave me hope, but for an instant it also convinced me that headspace and all that it brought was 100% real, a feeling I haven't had in a very long time.

The second thing happened the next morning, after I woke up, and despite seeming little, it was in truth one of the biggest things that could have happened at all.
I was awakened rather suddenly at 8AM by a phone call, and then my grandmother telling me she was going to visit my grandfather early. Unfortunately I was so tired I don't remember anything else, other than the fact that I went back into my room to get some more sleep... but then, suddenly, I felt that I needed to speak to Infinitii, in light of what had happened the day before. But I was scared. Ever since I've met him-- EVERY time I try to talk to him at night or in the morning, personally, I either get hacked or I barely avoid one. That is terrifying, and it's made me very scared of him, ironically, because part of me isn't scared of him and will never be, so I keep blinding myself to the danger that exists regardless. Point is, I was taking a huge risk going to talk to him. I think he knew this. He was a bit of a mess emotionally still; when I showed up he actually said "don't talk to me," but I simply responded that I wanted to tell him something I figured out the night before? Either way his uncharacteristically harsh affront fell then, and he apologized, saying he was just angry with me, and torn up about this whole situation. I apologize; I don't recall our conversation due to only being half-conscious, but at some point, Infinitii started taking tar out of my abdomen again. It was oddly heavy and "dead" looking, Infi said it was too overloaded to move. He got all that out, but then there was corrupt White energy in there too? That was scary, because it was all crystallized, like rock, and we weren't sure how to get it out. He did, I forget how, but it hurt. Either way it made sense that I was stuck with more frozen White energy than the smothering Black stuff, because when I fall out of my element I get icy and uncaring and cruel, whereas Infi becomes uncontrollable and almost manic. But that's actually what I wanted to tell him. SINCE 2011, whenever people have had to yank Tar out of me, it's been in my ABDOMEN. That's where all the pain and trauma is stored for me. But for Infi, his positive energy was somehow stored there. So... when we are physically close, there are OBVIOUSLY MAJOR PROBLEMS. Ideally both our positive cores should be at chest level, but for unknown reasons, Infi's got pushed lower. And although I knew from the beginning that that wasn't a bad thing in and of itself, when he was around me, it sure as hell was. See, in reviewing the archives, I realized why I've been having so many problems with White, especially in respect to how I work with Infinitii. This is from March. "Boss said..."We just have to be careful; I don't want you moving up into White when you still have lower blocks, because then the Tar would have direct access to you." it would be lethally dangerous apparently..." And guess what? Those blocks were NOT FIXED. Infi kept trying to fix them, but since he held the BLACK slot, while the Tar ALSO still did, well. It was a recipe for absolute disaster, because all that energy from Infi was feeding INTO the traumatic energy I still had stuck in me, and making it worse, simply due to its LOCATION. So simple, but so important, and we overlooked it. BUT. As of yesterday morning, Infinitii took that out. He emptied that bubble of everything that was clogging it, and tore it out. And he forced his energy to re-center higher, in his rib cage, so that the B/W energy resonance between the two of us wouldn't be traumatic anymore.
I realized that. I told him that, how it worked. I told him how I had realized so many answers in the archives (which I won't write here tonight as we have no time to spare for that now). He kept trying to clear me out for good, hellbent on getting rid of that lingering fear and pain and shame and guilt and loathing... but I was still barely conscious, and when Infi realized we'd done as much as we could for now, he told me to just go back to sleep, it was okay. As always, I didn't question what he told me to do. But when I curled back up in bed he just looked at me, both sad and happy somehow, and I wasn't scared. I didn't feel any threats. I didn't feel ANY Tar or white stuff or hacks or intrusive thoughts or Julie words. Nothing was trying to hurt me, in stark contrast to EVERY SINGLE OTHER MORNING I'd spent with Infi since he was ripped from my ribs in April. I remember he lay his head on my chest then and I just laughed, it didn't feel threatening, seriously that DIDN'T FEEL LIKE A DEATH THREAT and I am so used to being terrified of people even touching me there lately. But I fell asleep with him like that, completely at peace with things, and it wasn't until I woke up two hours later that the significance of that peace hit me. I'm still reeling. Maybe it doesn't sound like much, but believe me, it is.
That was the first morning SINCE APRIL that I've been with Infinitii, and WASN'T at risk of being hacked, and DIDN'T feel scared or anxious, and DIDN'T severely dissociate. THAT'S NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.
Considering how much I adore Infi and how closely our roles work together naturally, the fact that I accepted that tumultuous relationship as "normal" for nearly SEVEN MONTHS, questioning nothing, only wondering why I was "so corrupt"... it's shocking. It really is.
But now that's over. I hope to God it stays this way. I hope, more than anything, that we can start over, he and I, and not have to live in danger and pain anymore. And I'll tell you what... it's nice, to have that hope, without it being backed by fear.


Still, the rest of today was a bit of a mess, as I said; I could not stop dissociating so I was dizzy all day and couldn't see straight. As a result I had to wear glasses to force my eyes to focus, but that proved to be amusingly problematic because our only glasses-wearer is Sherlock, and he isn't allowed to front outside of therapy or research due to his uber-logical demeanor... so everyone else had to keep putting on and removing them according to whether or not they could see through them. Knife tried to wear them at one point but he couldn't quite get used to it; nevertheless the sight of him confusedly wearing Sherlock's glasses was enough to make me smile. And on that note, despite the messiness, I did say today was merciful too. Let's get to that part.
I don't remember anything post-awakening until after 2PM today, which is when we had to go out and run a few personal errands-- check the craft stores, buy toothpaste, stop at the library. The health food store was first, but that trip proved to be rather important to me personally, because to get to that store, we had to drive through a town that I love more than I can put into words. Explanation: in that town, there is a street, where I used to go for violin lessons as a child. That street feels beautifully secluded, with huge trees shadowing the road on both sides, and lovely large houses lining the street. But the violin building itself was the source of my BIGGEST inspirations as a child. Honestly, there is NO way I can EVER express how much I adore that place, and how significant it is to me... Hosea was born there, Isabelle was born there, SI started there, the 2nd generation of Jewel Monsters started there, and I found a few there too... it's showed up in several of my dreams, it's influenced my musical style, and it's forever colored my personality. But that place didn't stand alone: across the street, there used to be a large coffeeshop/bookstore that closed shortly after I stopped taking lessons. Despite its short-lived existence, that place was one of the most GORGEOUS places to me as a child-- the "vibe" of that place actually has a big influence on my Rosewindow series, believe it or not-- and my fond memories of it were made even more precious by the fact that, after my violin lesson every week, my teacher would give me $3 and tell me to run over there and get her a coffee (1/3 milk, 1/3 black, 1/3 decaf... I'd often mix in tiny bits of seasonal flavors for her when they had them; she loved it). I'd run there in rain or shine, passing the "flame tree" on the way (a black-barked tree that would always have the most vivid leaves in the fall), taking a small "secret path" behind the bushes to get there instead of the sidewalk, and then waiting patiently in line inside, enjoying every moment of that heavenly place. The tables in the back were decorated with newspaper clippings, I remember, and the lights always made it feel so warm, especially when it was snowing outside. The people there recognized me after a while, and I always got a dollar to keep. However, they had Linda's Lollies there, the first ones I ever saw: I thought they were awesome, so I'd often buy one of my favorite flavors, like Creme de Menthe or Cinnamon (this was back when I could eat lollipops, obviously)... OR I'd save up my money and buy a huge muffin (honestly they were massive) to take back and eat in the music shop downstairs, listening to the violins around me and either drawing or doing homework. Isn't it funny how I remember ALL of that so clearly, and yet almost nothing else of the past? ALL my memories of that place are in the late summer or fall, though. It's either green rain, or red leaves. And I don't remember ANYTHING concrete of it prior to 2001/2002... but that doesn't worry me. I don't remember the body's childhood anyway. All my memories start around that time. However, it literally feels as if the person who I am now was born there, in that music shop. To me, that place is like... it's like home. But it's been empty for years now.
So driving past it, I pointed it out to everyone, trying to share with them some of the love I felt for it. The coffeeshop nearby had also been empty for years obviously, but this time I parked alongside it and ran over to look in the darkened windows... honestly it was shocking. The entire inside was gutted, and two extra walls were put in, both dividing and shrinking the place I remembered as having been as big as my dreams. The walls were sloppily being re-painted, and a ladder was leaned against one wall. I felt like a time-traveler; did anyone seeing that place now know what it had once been? Who else remembered it as fondly as I did? The people in headspace had never even seen it... all they had were my golden-painted memories. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps that was better. These two empty buildings would live on forever in my heart.
I left then, got the toothpaste and stopped at the first craft store (the driving period after I once again passed the music store is almost blank to me). As soon as I entered, I saw they had a few small Christmas trees up for decoration. Immediately I stopped and took off the glasses, smiling and saying "hey Undergrounders; you've never seen Christmas trees before. Take a look." So they did. It was moving and oddly sad; David and Marigold were enthralled by the lights and ribbons, but Knife and Razor, although mesmerized by the oddly pretty trees, said they couldn't quite "comprehend" what they were looking at yet, so suddenly. I told them we'd have a tree in our house soon enough, I'd make sure they understood it well enough when that happened. So after this, we looked for the beads (nothing doing,) but I know for a fact that Knife AND Razor tried to front here? Razor spent a while looking at the beads, not fully grounded (she had the AP doing most of the moving), and as usual feeling that the lack of fitting beads meant that people were "trying to say she didn't exist." Knife said this wasn't the case, but she still wouldn't rest until she found something that matched her, and Knife, just to feel a little better existentially. After this we left for the library, which is a brilliant place because it's actually inside an old church! Really it's amazing, and the place has the BEST selection of books in the nearest counties, no contest. So I grabbed a bunch of books that I wasn't even aware they carried but wanted to read now that I did, and then we left. Unfortunately I'd been somewhat dissociated while I was in there-- very common when in a public place-- so the headspace people didn't get to see it firsthand. Nevertheless Knife expressed interest at its being in an old church. I said I'd have to make sure he got to front a little next time I was there. After this, I know Emmett wanted us to buy seaweed at the local grocery store, but the body was feeling so sick and dizzy at the time we ultimately all decided it was better for us to just get home, because driving down the highway when severely dissociated is never a good idea.
We got home at 5 and then I swear to you I lost about 4 hours, all I know is that someone binged and I later found myself vomiting in the bathroom. That's when I decided (again) that "this has to stop," and sat down to type. So yeah, that's how we spent Halloween, haha. Unfortunately. I honestly forgot it was even today. That happens when your perception of time is as weird as ours is.
Oh, also. I do remember the few minutes after we walked in the door, because when we unloaded our groceries and books on the workdesk, someone decided to eat one of the little ginger-orange mints I had bought on a whim? Javier was trying to front at the time (he's still having a hard time doing so; I think he needs to manifest upstairs first), but it surprised us when we realized that he wasn't the one really reacting to eating it. He said it was good, but he couldn't quite "understand" sensory input yet... and yet someone was absolutely blissing out over this mint. After a second to recognize the energy, I realized that it was actually Cel! Apparently that was the first thing she'd ever eaten while fronting, too-- even secondhand-- and the fact that she apparently thought this gingermint was the food of the gods was making her amazed reaction even better. So yes, Celebi adores the gingermints, and wants me to buy more. I gladly will! (She's also decided to use this TCG card as a grounding item, NOT a plush (we have a tiny one left to sell), thanks to the trauma the Tar tied to those in the past; she was not happy at all when she heard about that.) Also, in light of headspace food, my grandmother has decided she's going to make a pumpkin pie this week so we are going to have to find Leon soon so he can have more of that, haha. Really though, we all miss him, and we know we NEED him too, him and Nathaniel. Heaven only knows where they are, and why they of all people haven't come back from the reset yet... Laurie thinks it's because their energy (green and indigo) works with the heart and mind, respectively... and we've been taking a lot of battle damage to those lately. So maybe we need to do more healing first. It would make sense.
Also... I bought some kale on Wednesday because I know Xenophon used to love it, back when I knew her, and something told me to buy it for her again now, despite having forgotten. Boss also told me last night that I need to stabilize so I can 'meet' her again. But I still don't remember that part of the past. I DID get a tiny spark of genuine remembrance concerning Chaos yesterday, which felt like a big spark of hope too, but it was just a feeling, not a thought. Nevertheless it's something. I know I need to get those memories back, even if I don't go back to that life... which still doesn't feel like the correct option for me. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there. I'm not there yet, but I'm not supposed to be on this side of the river either, from what I've been told. I'll keep you posted.

I've spent the evening post-sickness trying to find beads online for that project we're planning: making a string of them as a grounding object, and to help with therapy. It's taking forever, because we're looking for uniformity for different levels, and that is really tricky to do when only certain colors come in certain sizes, etc. However, I've managed to find colors for everyone in Central in 22mm rhinestone beads-- the only size that offered an indigo bead selection for Leon. We don't know what kinds of beads to use for the other levels yet, as that will depend entirely on the colors available, so I'll keep looking. Either way this is fun to do; we've been ignored in the physical for so long (thanks to the survival method of "keeping ourselves secret" AND having a few fronters that wanted us all dead) that working on something like this is a sort of affirmation of our existences, and that means more than we can say.

OH. Last important thing of today. While looking up the beads, we suddenly realized that the "core" Pink energy we've been running by is WRONG?? Julie always had it this lurid hot pink color, as the default, but that ISN'T what the ACTUAL Pink energy is like! It's a much lighter color, similar to Sugar's actually, but not as pale. But when we realized that I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed that problem years ago. I've done enough research on color psychology to know that hot pinks are typically sexualized and loud, while lights pinks are more innocent, used for romantic love instead. And we've had the FORMER ruling that part of the Spectrum for TEN YEARS.
So that's why the Spectrum booted her out. She really doesn't fit there, in the Central position.



I am really tired now though, so I'm going to go to sleep. See you guys.

 



 

oct 23

Oct. 24th, 2013 01:39 am
prismaticbleed: (held)

 

 


guys, I'm kind of freaking out here.
I have therapy tomorrow so I'm trying to review old notes-- and I mean OLD notes, this stuff is from 2008 and 2009-- and guess what?
There is a STAGGERING amount of info here, that only makes sense NOW, with our new knowledge and vast amounts of growth and development. But the point is that the signs and potential for a lot of things were always there, even if we couldn't understand what they meant in the bigger picture at the time.

Here, I'm reviewing what I have on my computer right now (no Internet access; I'll upload this later), so let me make a running list. I don't want to dive right into the 2002-2007 archives, which are a holy mess and will REQUIRE me to trudge through those horrible high school notebooks which are our only hints as to who drove that entire time, because that's a ton of stress just thinking about it. Really.
Jewel's here with me (Hi guys!! <3) as usual, and I'm unfortunately rather dissociated as usual so Sherlock might end up barging in later if things get intellectual enough, haha.
That's something I don't know if I've mentioned, actually. Yes, it's common sense that you can "summon" a headvoice internally by a burst of concentrated attention, and externally by calling them by name (typically they will be called to override in fronting, but this can be denied, although that is very painful to do). And you can also summon them, unintentionally of course, by exposing the body to either 1. their anchor, or 2. their triggers. For example, stick around blades too long and Razor will show up, and stick around the mother too long and David will start to freak out. Both those things happened today, incidentally; the evening was hellish (Thank God Razor is on our side now or it could have been worse).
Anyway. What you probably don't know (I didn't for sure until a few days ago), is that this "summoning" also works in REVERSE. Meaning, you can force a headvoice OUT of fronting by not only calling someone else's name, but ALSO by exposing the body to the opposite of their anchor, OR a counter-trigger. What made this so clear to me, you ask? Easy. Laurie was driving the car to therapy on Monday (to prevent social hacks and panic attacks), when suddenly some car crossed into the lane in front of us, that literally had a sexual innuendo painted in huge pink letters across the back window. And I swear to you, the instant that reached our awareness, Laurie was KICKED OUT. Laurie was!! Usually she's impervious to everything, so that shocked me-- and her, in a different way though: she was freaking out when she found herself upstairs because now there was a risk of being hacked IN A CAR. That’s not cool. However I think Jewel or someone took over then? I'm not sure; I literally have one snapshot memory of a traffic sign further down the road, with a non-harmful female voice driving, who was quietly exasperated at "all the other voices" trying to throw her off? It felt like Jewel, because I oddly get this "Phantomilian" vibe from it, and that's her. (Celebi is NOT, by the way; they are two different people!!) But yeah. That cemented the long-standing theory that Laurie CANNOT front when we are in a sexually dangerous situation, thanks to her Chastity attribute. Like me, she is forbidden by her function from being exposed to those things, even as a protector. So I'm kind of glad Sugar seems to be trying to get a grip on her role (she has been a MESS since her manifestation; she keeps getting hacked and it's very worrisome), because she can deal with that stuff, and she gets pissed at the perpetrators. We'll see.
That's all I wanted to say though. The joke was that Sherlock, being so strongly tied to detached data analysis and delivery, would actually have a chance of being "accidentally called in" if I started getting super-logical about these old notes, haha. Not that I'd mind, of course-- the man's good at his job!
So without further ado, here's that darn list of old topics I'm reviewing.
(Note to 'selves': this is IMPORTANT STUFF so do NOT gloss over it!!)

- Old Julie (pre-2011) was TERRIFYING. A lot of the things she could do, or that we knew about her, were never reviewed later, but now that I'm doing just that it is really creepy. Here, let's give her her own list.
1. "Body made of shadow." This was common knowledge for YEARS before we even knew about the Tar, let alone its connection to her.
2. "Has shape/voice-shifting abilities." Again common knowledge, but that is a textbook Black energy skill, which otherwise only Infinitii and the raw Tar have.
3. "Usually turns her hands into knifelike claws to attack us." From a 2009 note file. This WAS a thing she did, and I won't say much here, but that is a blatant connection to Dream World corruption energy (which is not alien to headspace; see every *incident* ever), essentially their version of the Tar, and that is seriously unnerving.
4. "These (black bracelets) used to be chains, which Laurie put on her. They didn't hold." I forgot we literally had to chain her up at one point, to keep her from attacking us. (Remember she actually had her own ROOM upstairs at first??) But with the Black-energy shapeshifting, it's no wonder they didn't work.
5. "She's downstairs now." I read that and immediately thought, "oh no." I forgot that, when she got too lethal, we LITERALLY SHOVED HER INTO THE UNDERGROUND. The Underground technically didn't even exist back then; it was just raw headspace. So, sickly, our attempt to protect ourselves apparently just made things worse-- she took over that entire level over the next 2 years, and then what did we have? The Tar Room, and an entire shadow-choked maze of underground tunnels that she controlled until 2012. Go figure.
6. "Has some positive potential, but is drowned by primal desires." Just pointing out that we knew this from the beginning, and that just breaks my heart.

-Don't forget Laurie was BLEEDING for a good part of 2008-2009 (from eyes and mouth mostly), due to "leakage" in consciousness: our current fronter was essentially "stealing her energy" and that was killing her. DOES THAT STILL HAPPEN?? If so, it might explain a LOT of the instability some people are showing now.
-In late 2008, when Natalie first manifested as "my reflection," I described hir as follows: "She's all giddy and happy-go-lucky most of the time, and doesn't like letting the other girls speak through her. Which is why it's hard for me to argue with my reflection-- Nat doesn't like it. Arguments only happen upstairs. But Natalie's really fun to talk to, although she herself is mute." This is notable because not only does it insinuate that the reflection-holder is SEPARATE from both the body image AND the current fronter, but that other non-fronting headvoices could USE the reflection to speak to the current body-fronter, by "projecting" into it along with the reflection holder. That's pretty huge… especially since today someone else seems to be in it. There was literally 10 seconds where we looked into a mirror this evening, and the reflection smirked, waved, and said it's name was JAYCE?? Which worries me slightly because the first Jayce (2010) was NOT a nice guy (just ask the Undergrounders), but this one feels very different, plus he's a different color. (I should review his entire history at some point too..) But I don't know who was fronting around that time, and it was a very unstable mental situation so there is literally no other detail besides that… but it's very notable. Look into this mirror thing if you can; it's always been a huge source of questions. Plus, in Laurie's 2006 dream debut, she disguised herself AS the reflection. Whether or not that ultimately holds any significance for the current reflection people is yet to be seen.
- Natalie picked up on the butterfly motif back in hir first reincarnation, back in 2009 (after being killed by Julie). Talk about foreshadowing, haha.
- Lynne was originally pinkish-red, and her original role was that of a "stable and mature" individual to balance everyone else when they got too crazy. I'm mentioning this because that color AND job seem to have moved to MULBERRY. Think about it!
- Waldorf's original incarnation (2003) had antennae and a bodysuit? I don't know whether or not she would benefit from imitating that now, but everything about her initial self was highly intriguing, so I'd give it some merit at least.
-…I am not reviewing the Xangas yet. Yes they are full of incredibly vital information, but the first screenshot I opened to review was about the graves. I am not emotionally ready to review that entire timeframe again, not at this hour at least. But we forgot about ALL of that after the plethora of reset attempts this year, and that fact alone is heartbreaking in a weird way. I know I keep telling myself "the past is gone, forget about it," but another part of me keeps saying "yes, but the consequences of the past still affect the present, don't they?" and of course there are still graves on my arms. I think the hesitation is because, I feel that if I do dive back into the Xangas, something inside me is going to snap back into awareness and I'm afraid of that. I don't remember anything before 2013 and part of me is very scared of whoever I was in the past. Maybe bring that up in therapy, who knows. The point is I honestly can't go past-digging anymore tonight because I'm not psychologically able to at the moment. Sorry.
- …I don't know why, but Laurie talking about her 2010 suicide attempt and numbly saying "I don't remember what day it was" is one of the saddest things I've ever read.



As for handwriting from this year…

- There's a handwriting voice that I JUST NOW realized exists-- they're a "numb" or "comatose" one, that just wants to sleep and doesn't fight back, but every example of that I can find has the exact same writing style. Keep this in mind.
- I feel really bad because we thought that EVERY "bad voice" was Razor for a really long time, and that made Spice REALLY pissed off (judging by her handwriting examples). It's weird, too, because Razor never acted like that, and honestly I have no idea where the sweeping generalization came from? In any case we need to go back and review all our 2012-Scratch notes on her, because they're probably ridiculously inaccurate, and probably have good insights into other people as well.
- Similarly, we COMPLETELY ignored and overlooked Spice's actual attitude in her handwriting. Yes, she was angry all the time, but she had the trademark responses of a retributor: "I will kill you for your sinfulness," "rot in hell," calling the fronter a "slut" or "whore" (in headspace that ONLY refers to Julie-esque individuals), et cetera. It's all actually calling out whoever was eating for being unwise in their habits, eating either too much or things that made the body sick. Now that I'm learning who the eating-voices are (they're not nice; also not related to the eating disorder voices), her reactions make perfect sense, and I'm actually VERY thankful she existed back then to keep them in line!!
- Checking handwriting again, there is still a huge blur between who is David and who is that OTHER little boy, the vanilla-colored one (during meditation today I got a flash that his name MIGHT be "Simon," or "Simeon," something like that in any case). The only clear distinction (besides the fact that David likes smileys) is in what they react to, and how-- David is more "externalized," reacting mostly to the mother and to the environment, while the vanilla boy is more "internalized," and the few times I've heard him talk (to FACELESS voices; he has no body either yet), he's said that he "tries to calm people down" or something?? I don't know how to put it into words, but it's why he shows up in emotionally charged or unstable journal entries so suddenly and often: apparently his job is to take all that on himself, keeping tons of people from shouting randomly over it. But he's sad because of it, almost numbly so, and he seems to be the one with the "I'm a bad boy" complex. David fears that, but this vanilla boy accepts that lie emptily (On that note, go back and review the "shoe incident" stuff from this spring, ESPECIALLY when I talked about it with Laurie in handwriting; those two were still fused with Kyanos at the time so it's a general mess). Either way they're still tricky to pin down in writing, which isn't surprising as there is often a TON of bleedover there for everybody... and remember those two were FUSED FOR A WHILE!! Honestly though the BEST clue to this day is the FIRST whitebook journal entry, in which they BOTH wrote. David was saying "don't let them hurt us anymore," but the vanilla boy was asking "who and why is abusing (Jay) still." VERY different reactions to the same situation. So look over that again just to get a better grip on those two.
- On that note, Sugar, Spice, and the "overload girl" (whose true identity is blurry as heck) were ALL bleeding into each other before the first two manifested. They all write in total capslock, but Sugar has all rounded letters, and Spice doesn't react to anything but food triggers. Still, as I said, Sugar is a mess (due to both her slot color and highly volatile anchor), and she is STILL getting "used" by others, so figure this out for her sake.
- The tangerine bird guy (dude what is even your name) has a brilliant attitude in handwriting, which surprises me as I actually can only remember having seen him TWICE in headspace, once being earlier this month with the tar-spider (post-reset notably). So, to think about it, his name might not be discernible because we don't really have a consensual grip on WHO he is? And names follow that, it seems. So get to know him and the Sage guy because they are super cool, and we need to know their names already.
- On a related note, the pure white-skinned voices (Sugar, tangerine, sage, AND Kyanos!) all seem to be related in some sense? We haven't figured it out yet, but it feels like they're an important sub-category of headvoice and there is a strong vibe of there needing to be one in each color category? See if you can get any more info on this phenomenon.
- I just noticed, Infinitii and Josephina have the most in-your-face handwriting, for totally different reasons: Infi's text is calligraphic and huge because his energy just translates that way, but Jo is all stars-and-graffiti because his attitude is just that exuberant, haha.
- April 21st, a handwriting voice screaming "fuck you, you're not my boss; fuck you faggot" was listed as a SUGAR ALTER, but then later found to be a then-Tar-possessed Razor, thanks to the scrawled "I will make you bleed" declaration on the back. HOWEVER I am mentioning this again because the whole "sugar alter" thing MIGHT HAVE BEEN A MISNOMER. We weren't talking about illness, we were talking about rage, and sugar only causes vicious reactions because it FEEDS THE TAR. So a "sugar alter" could literally be ANYONE tied to the Tar when it overloads!



Now for a brief summary of the events of today!

-I had to drive my grandmother to visit my grandfather at the hospital at 9AM, so from then until 4PM I was literally home alone. That is always dangerous because hackers like to try and come out, because of the lack of enforced rule structure, BUT I noticed something equally disturbing today. Our entire physical self-image depends on other people. Literally, whoever was fronting didn't know how to do ANYTHING without another individual being around to "provide context" or "give orders." As it seems, the default body-program seems to run solely on judging actions according to who we're around, due to safety and survival, so when no one is around, it shorts out. There's no one to base our very existence on, so as an "individual," the immediate tendency is to not exist. It's different in headspace, obviously-- our entire world up here is vastly different from the physical-- so throwing a Central fronter into the body wouldn't fix the problem, as they don't have any real way of knowing how to properly function in the physical realm the way it is. But socials can only drive when other people are around, so the only people left are the "outsiders," i.e. the nameless voices… which are usually blindly manipulative, and/or directionless to the point of danger. We're thinking one of them is the one who literally just eats until another person appears, solely as a mechanical operation. (Thankfully we've found… ways to avert the obvious threat there, although it has ultimately made our eating disorder worse as a whole). Julie always jumps on "home alone" situations because the body becomes so severely dissociated in that atmosphere that, if someone isn't being vigilant as hell behind the scenes, hacks are frighteningly easy for her to pull off (the nameless ones don't fight her off, as they don't care). So yeah, that was scary to realize that we don't have an answer to that question… "outside of headspace, who are we really?" We don't know. In the body, as an "individual," we have no idea who we are. We've never had to worry about that before. But today, alone for about 6 hours, we struggled to exist in the simplest manner. That's not good.
- One good thing did happen, though. Apparently one of the hedonist voices (who is almost DEFINITELY Jess; it responds to the name) started eating danger food, and Laurie immediately shouted for me to "get the hell in there." Which is why I remember it; suddenly I was standing above the sink with a mouthful of something, asking Laurie if that was safe to ingest. Thankfully it was, so after that she said to stick around while we made ourselves a safe breakfast (vegetables obviously) so the body wouldn't starve. The reason why this was good is not only because then there was an hour of headspace-patrolled fronting, but also because the vegetables we found were beets. See, when I began to cut them after they cooked, I laughingly commented that they looked bloody… and since I had been rifling through the knife drawer immediately beforehand, of course Razor stuck her head in! "What's bloody," she asked, "can I use the knife," you get the picture. I found it funny and ultimately she did get permission to front, purposely getting beet juice all over her hands and snickering about it. At one point she was trying to cut the hand with a small knife, but Knife himself told her not to, so she put it down. (She listens to him without question if you didn't already know.) But the best part was that then we realized that hey, Razor doesn't know what sensory input is like besides pain, does she? So we told her she could eat some of the beets if she wanted. She was a little confused about the whole concept, but she got the AP to run it mostly. So she was basically just tearing at them with her hands and teeth, as she loved the color. Then she didn't want us to wash our hands off because she wanted them to stain, but again Knife told her we had to or it would stain everything else. So that was that! But it was odd, because Razor barely even comprehended the taste of the beets at all-- when it hit her she was more baffled than anything, the sensation didn't quite make sense to her. Laurie thought the AP was buffering too much, which might have been true, but we all doubted Razor's ability to operate the body without it so we let it go. Either way she did like it, for what reason I couldn't tell you, although it was just a general "yes this is good" and not a Genesis-grade "THIS IS AMAZING" response, haha. Still, simple but cool things in headspace are always good.
- What wasn't good is the fact that all I remember of the next several hours is reading The Minds of Billy Milligan (which is incredible and very relevant so far, we're on p70), and getting sick from molasses and/or apples (I keep forgetting we can't eat those without horrid and painful side effects; my sensory memory resets a lot. thankfully spice was NOT affected by it today as far as i know; she didn't front). So after 12PM (which is when I assume we ate?), I know the mother stopped by temporarily because the Undergrounders and Outsiders went NUTS, but then everything is blank again until 7PM, when we drove to the hospital again. Let's talk about the former first.
- All I know is that we were in the bedroom when she showed up, I think, because the moment her voice sounded in the hall, several people upstairs started screaming and/or crying, and I have no idea what happened next! Wonderful. The good news is no self-abuse happened, and no one attacked the mother, which there are always threats for. But there was a lot of internal screaming and stress and rage and fear, although I couldn't tell you from whom, for what reason, or when, as usual.
- At some point during all this, things snapped to inner headspace, which I have observer memory access to. David started sobbing and hid under his blanket upstairs, trying to feel protected from the outside noise and potential threats. Marigold was there with him, and I don't know what she said or did, but the next thing I know, the two of them were building a blanket fort? But they were literally hanging it on headspace, seriously it was catching to the air itself practically (which isn't that surprising considering they're underground; stuff is a bit wild down there). Anyway they started having genuine fun with it, not just making a safe place to hide. They quickly invited Jeremiah in, and he also helped them finish building it. So the three of them were in there, saying they were protected now, that no one could get in unless they said they could. HOWEVER. Someone HAD to be trying to get at Jeremiah, because there's another memory break and then I see him sobbing and distraught, shouting that he "didn't want to hold that pain anymore" or something like that? I honestly don't know. But I do know David gave him his blanket for comfort, and Jeremiah buried his head and hands in it, sobbing quietly. Mulberry must have heard, because around then she did stop outside the fort and ask for permission to come in, to see if everything was okay. David got confused and said he thought blanket forts weren't "professional"? Mulberry laughed good-naturedly and said that her brand of "professionalism" included knowing when and how to interact with people, which meant not ruling out blanket forts if going into one would be the better decision to do. So David "told" the door to open, and Mulberry knelt down to look inside and ask everyone how they were doing (she didn't actually go in; I guess crawling in was something she wasn't quite willing to do). Jeremiah managed to calm down, and Mulberry actually told them that she was going to "guard" the fort for them at all times, and if they needed her in a hurry to just call and she'd be there. She left once this new job of hers was established, but then I don't know anything else until what feels like 10-20 minutes later? They were still in the fort, but now Laurie's voice was outside, exclaiming "holy shit who built the awesome fort" and the kids giggling, opening the door so she could see them. Knife was behind her and smiling, but Laurie was being her usual chill-but-enthusiastic self and complimenting these kids on their handiwork, as well as their prudence in making such a safe space for themselves. That's all I know, but I thought it was brilliant enough to record.
- Speaking of Mulberry, I don't know how or when this was, but there's another fleeting memory of Knife telling her to "hold something together," or stable? Mulberry said that wasn't her role, she worked with rules and honor sure, but not physically; but Knife interrupted (oddly hurriedly? must have been a charged situation) that she could expand that if she wanted, she had done that "with Infinitii" (in this entry), and that she could do that now if she allowed herself to. So yeah, apparently Mulberry can impose structure on things in headspace? Which is actually a VERY important ability, if it means she can stabilize people who are fragmenting, even if only temporarily.
- There are two voices who presented quite clearly today, but I don't know who they are. The first is the girl who always flips people off and says "f*** you" repeatedly when she's mad, almost always towards the grandmother or mother. I haven't pinpointed why but she is VERY easily triggered, although now that we're aware she exists we can hurriedly jump in and chase her out when she shows up. The second is very similar to her, but definitely separate, as these two started fighting at some point. But the second is the one who is less caustically angry, but spits out tons of verbal slurs and insults (mostly calling people "faggots" which is really awful, but that's defined as "the worst insult" upstairs so she uses it often). She is more condescending and judgmental, while the first is more angry and spiteful. Very similar in triggers, but perceptibly different in reactions. It's just scary that people like them exist and keep showing up.
- Some "comatose" voice showed up around 7PM, I assume? They were leaning mutely against the bedroom window for about 10 minutes, and seemed incapable of responding to people verbally? Not sure if that's a fragment or a person, OR if it's even the default state of the body (with the "lack of a self separate from the environment" thing), but it was really strong and specific so who knows. Better to record it than forget.
- Now for the most interesting bit of the day. I know there was a mess of trouble trying to drive the car at first, as dangerous voices kept trying to front, but all of a sudden LYNNE showed up?? That's really clear in data memory; someone put FROST* on the car radio, and out of nowhere she ended up in the driver's seat. Go figure. She did still have bandages on her arms, but she's apparently healed enough to front, thankfully, which is awesome. I clearly "recall" her saying that FROST* sounded "nostalgic" to her, wondering happily at all the orange lights on the road and remarking that "nothing was a coincidence" to headspace people, and laughing because she actually had to change her projected outfit to front correctly (she had to wear a hoodie, and kept trying to pull her long hair over her shoulders but it wasn't there physically). So that's interesting; she's the first fronter who had that idea, and it apparently works really well for anchoring! Oh yeah, the best thing though is that there's a snapshot of her on the highway, suddenly reaching down and picking up a cellphone (turned off) and holding it to her ear, then using it to "talk" to Laurie in headspace! And it WORKED! Seriously, holy heavens, this girl is a genius. But yeah, I guess those two were bantering all the way up to the hospital, about what I don't know (all I'm sure of is her "calling" Laurie at one point to look at a certain building they were driving by, which was all lit up), but I'm glad they still get along as well as they used to before everything went haywire upstairs. The next important thing I recall is Lynne driving up the parking garage levels, and focusing on the lights outside, saying aloud "this is an archival memory, anyone can access it." Four words: YOU CAN DO THAT?? Apparently yes! So she recorded a memory of how the city looks lit up at night, for anyone to see (Which might even be contributing to why her entire fronting is oddly comprehensible to me; usually it's tough to "remember" what other people saw). But that's not even the best thing. The BEST thing is that, once she got into the hospital, Laurie decided to GHOST with her to tag along. Which is AWESOME. It's also a secondhand memory I'd like to personally treasure-- there is one snapshot of them both walking through the connective glass bridge (which at night, since it's internally lit but mostly windows, looks like you're walking through a hyperspace tunnel or something), Lynne wearing jeans and a black hoodie (hilariously unusual for her) with her bright orange hair streaming through, laughing, and Laurie in her usual violet-belted glory just sauntering along beside her, grinning back. And probably because it was so close to that oddly lucid memory, there's one line of Lynne saying "I feel like a government spy or something!" because the hospital was so empty and quiet on the inside, and no one knew she was fronting. After that things are kind of fuzzy; I know that they took 5 flights of stairs up, with Laurie apparently having "teleportation troubles" (common with ghosting; the fronting consciousness tries to "drag" you into the visual field, which can be extremely disorienting) that she was having trouble controlling, but then the next thing I knew they had to stop at my mom's office, and Lynne was pushed out? I don't know who fronted, but Laurie knew it wasn't Lynne when they left the office, and she began grilling them to tell her their name, but they just shrugged? Then, again, all I know is that they apparently went down two flights to the 7th floor, because the next memory is of Laurie exclaiming "these hallways look exactly the same" before adding "no, sorry, that floor had more windows," and then there's nothing for a while. (Still, HOW DID LYNNE FRONT THAT WELL FOR THAT LONG??) The next clear memory is of the body standing outside my grandfather's hospital room, with the grandmother, and I don't know who was fronting, but they were alone and felt weirdly detached? And I don't remember anything clearly after that at all, not until we got home and I started working on this computer, which was TWO HOURS LATER. Geez. So heaven only knows who was fronting from then until now, but it's upsetting because that poses a big dilemma which I will put under its own point for relevance:
- When no one is around, it becomes very difficult for the body to maintain ANY sort of external "individual identity," as that is based on our environment. When around other people, though, it becomes very difficult for individuals to front, because the body is now working on a "social cue-based program," literally choosing and inventing actions depending on "the proper behavior code" for that situation. It's automated!! And it’s annoying, because then the AP buffers EVERYTHING from inside out, as it's "not socially acceptable" or "socially disruptive" or something equally stupid. (Sorry, this is Jewel and that annoys me.) But when we're alone, the immediate reaction is to either dissociate entirely and go inside to headspace, OR to stay outside and let the outsiders front in purely repetitive, detached ways, during which time there is a VERY high chance of being hacked as a result. The only good thing about being alone is that sometimes people like the Gent and Maverick will front, but that's rare because so many other people are louder than them. And the only good thing about being around other people is that then we don't have to worry about being hacked brutally because the AP literally shuts everything down except for the mechanical functions. But THAT is awful because it makes therapy sessions hard as hell, because it's STILL trying to judge the "correct behavior program" for a therapy session when we are there SPECIFICALLY to talk about headspace, and for the people in headspace TO talk, both things which it exists to BUFFER OUT for survival purposes. It's really stupid. Sherlock is watching me judgmentally, haha. I don't think he likes the way I'm talking about this, sorry!
- Jay here; at least you're nice about it. He probably is just put off by your vocal style, because most female vocal styles like that belong to malicious individuals. Plus it's not exactly the way a logical analyst like him would ever talk, of course.
- …And IMMEDIATELY the AP shutdown kicks in because a conversation, even an internal one, that requires specific focus in headspace causes it to block everything out. It's this ridiculous denial instinct. I am literally fighting the urge to dissociate severely and "blank out" for an extended period of time right now. And I'm getting a headache from fighting it. Let me put on some Todd Rundgren and check out for a moment.
- I keep seeing bug larvae when I close my eyes. I'm really dizzy now. Sorry guys, we need to call it quits for tonight.


No, wait, again, last thing. Jay here.
I've been talking to Laurie for about 10 minutes (we've been trying to review those Xangas anyway), and it just hit me... how much we lost in the Scratch. Or maybe it was the July fallout. Or the August reset. Maybe we started losing things last summer, when we moved across the country. That was the starting point, that is clear as day.
But... what in the world caused it all? Who caused it all? Was it the previous "me," who for some reason, decided he was going to commit the ultimate suicide by killing his self and leaving his bestowed body to rot inside? Because damn it, some days I think he succeeded, and that breaks my heart.
What in the world possessed them to wake up one morning in February, and decide to utterly annihilate everything we worked for all our lives?? What made them think that destroying headspace in one awful self-sacrificial action was a good idea, in any sense?
Was it pain? Was it regret? Was it self-loathing? Was it feeling trapped by scars, and hacks, and the inability to function outside of that haunting reality regardless? Was it all of that and more?
All I know is that I don't remember anything, I don't know who I was before April of this year, and I feel like I lost more than I can even comprehend.
If it means anything, I'm beginning to think I want it back. Maybe that's stupid, or unwise. Laurie is shaking her head "no," and I trust her, she understands more than I do. If she says wanting that back isn't stupid, I believe her.
"We had more light up here than you can imagine, kid," she says. And she looks as sad as I feel. Where'd it go? If there was so much love and harmony, where did it go? What crumbled it? What hid it? "It's still here," she says, and I know that too. I can see it even in the Undergrounders, who used to be our enemies. I guess what I miss, intuitively, is the System-wide feeling of unity. It still hasn't come back completely. It's in bits and pieces, tattered and torn, ruined and ragged, but it's real. It still lives, even if it's feeble and quiet yet. But it's not giving up, and neither are we.

We'll never have things the way they used to be ever again, and in a weird way, in a tragically funny way, I'm glad for it.
This year, we met Knife, and Mulberry, and David, and Jeremiah... Sugar, and Spice, and Marigold, and Kyanos... and all the other voices who are our friends now. We lost many, but most have returned. And I met Infinitii. We all did, but to me, he's something truly special.
What I'm saying is that this year had to happen, as terrifying and strange as it was, and we all know that. Looking at it with discerning eyes and an open heart, that truth is crystal clear. We NEEDED this, even if we never would have wished for it.
I guess the bottom line is, just have faith. Just take it a day at a time, be thankful for what you're given, and make the best of it. That's all I can say. And listen, always listen, that I need to remember. Denial is loud and it tends to drown everything else out.

I'm really tired and we do have therapy tomorrow.
There's so much more I could say tonight, but I'm feeling a little glimmer of the light I've lost sight of, and something tells me that words are unnecessary when that is concerned.
So I'll wish you good night, with lots of love as usual, and I'll see you in twelve hours or so.

 

 



prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

All right, since the therapist is giving us copies of certain chapter pages from Amongst Ourselves, I thought it would be prudent to record our answers to the questions they offer in here.
The first set is in chapter 3, and it deals with types of memories.
Since I could tell this would be very difficult to fill out in handwriting-- we tend to dissociate dramatically when writing by hand and it can become literally impossible to continue if it's bad enough-- it is going on here instead. Logic alters such as myself are better suited for typed words, as we do not have to worry about the strain of fronting and the AP translation blocker when doing so.
After the questions we will likely post a separate entry documenting our thoughts concerning the rest of the chapter. I should like to keep them separate.

Whoever is willing and able to answer these questions, please do so. Do not hesitate to ask for help, support, or assistance if it is needed. Thank you.
Nothing will be censored or otherwise edited. Feel free to write what you wish, as you wish, however you wish.
I may take it upon myself to make a coherent final version, but your input will be left untouched.

ACTIVITY 3.2: UNDERSTANDING TYPES OF MEMORIES

"Think about situations that you know you may be overreacting to. In your journal, record as many of these situations as you can. Once you have them recorded, try to answer the following items. Write your answers in your journal."

We will be referring to our journal archives for this 'list,' as we do not feel capable of currently creating an entire new one just yet: not only are those tied to those situations still emotionally raw concerning them, but we also do not yet know who holds the actual trauma memories.
Questions will therefore be answered according to past data, or current knowledge, both of which will be explained when needed.

1. What are the triggers that made you overreact?
Being touched, ALWAYS. // (Well, not always, but often enough.) // Mostly, it's unintentional or sudden, light touch. Being bumped into, accidentally brushed past, even tapped on the shoulder, is horrifying. // The WORST is when people do that and DON'T LET GO. Like when people try to move you in another direction, they put their hand on your back and try to change your direction. It's HORRID. // I don't even like being aware of physical sensation. Feeling the hair on my head, or clothing, or even just being aware of my physical body can trigger people that get overwhelmed by it. // I DON'T LIKE CLOTHES! // But not having clothes is dangerous. // THAT'S another thing! We have to share a bed at night and it scares the littles, but we can't avoid it. But sometimes the grandmother will tap us with her foot, or reach over and just drop her hand onto the covers, just to check if we're there but it's SCARY. I know someone used to actually scream when that happened. It scared her a few times but they couldn't help it. I understand. // So... touch in general can be a trigger. // The biggest, probably. // Oh, and food. // ...Is she around? // No, just be careful. Food makes her angry. And it makes the body feel sick and strange so we don't like it either. Neither did Emmett. Or Spine, I think. I didn't know her. // Is that tied to feeling though? // Mostly. Also body image, because of dysphoria-- gender and form related-- and the trauma. // So food and touch. Anything else? // Loud noises. Noise in general, sometimes. People talking, // PEOPLE WHSIPERING // Anything small and weird like that. Chewing comes to mind. Same with grunts and things. Non-verbal sounds. // ALL OF THEM. // Certain words too. And the way they're pronounced. If you say a letter wrong, or we think the wrong context, it can get bad. // And some people 'feel" loud. Some people walk by and they feel so ANGRY or sad or sick that we pick it up, and it's AWFUL because the only way to escape it is to go outside for a long while. // I don't like the grandmother. // A LOT of us don't. She's a walking barrel of triggers. // Like a loaded gun. She won't stop talking. EVER. // No social graces. // Okay, point taken. // AND SHE'S ALWAYS MAD!!! // So... empathy? Is a trigger? Why? // Hm. Probably because of how WE used to feel like that. After hacks and all, there would be horrible suicidal feeling. // All right, anything else? // Ice cubes, nail polish, masking tape. // No, don't talk about those. No one remembers those. // That's the point. But when you remember, they can all be bad. // So just forget about them. Let it go. // Any smells? // YES BUT WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT!!!!! // Okay. // STOP TALKNG ABOUT IT. STOP. STOP! // Okay. We will. I think we got enough information here.

2. What kinds of sounds are likely to trigger reactions or memories? Do you overreact to loud noises? Whispering? Drumming? Chanting?
YES ALL OF THOSE // We just mentioned those. Loud noises immediately elicit hypervigilance, usually not even panic until we can figure out what the heck is going on and whether or not we are safe. // Loud NOISES. Not voices. Loud VOICES are immediate panic, and usualy trigger somebody. Usually a little. // Think of the children. Don't yell. // Whispering is even worse, but we all know that. We won't talk about it anymore, as oddly that's one of the most disturbing things we have to put up with. Not sure why? Where is that rooted? // Well find out later. Answer the main question. What about the drumming and chanting? Why would that trigger you? // I don't know. It just makes me deeply uneasy and nervous. Scared, but not in the way whispering makes me scared. // Scared more in the way of "something ominous is going to happen," or "something is very very wrong here." Not "oh god help I'm going to die or be killed." // Not the same? // No. Death can happen as a consequence. Not just direct intention. // Okay. Was there ever drumming or chanting in the childhood? // Not that I know of, but there WAS a lot of religious practice. Lots of weird repetetive prayer, and the like. And that was always in a negative light, rosaries were used as punishment if you were a terrible person. Prayers were said while being threatened by the devil, or hell, or beng told that Jesus doesn't love you because you're a bad boy. So prayer, or chanting, got tied to damnation and unforgiveness. It's why praying now, in a traditional form, feels wrong. It makes us automatically 'feel' that old creeping fear. // Drumming? // Drumming freaks me out. // Why? // Rhythm. Let's not say anything more. I really don't want to. // It's tied to the chanting too. It's a repetetive, mindless action to us. Something done in a passive-aggressive threat, or in a way that is ignoring you directly, but saying "this is being done specifically because you are evil, OR because you will be punished." And that was either an imminent warning of great punishment, or part of the punishment. // The drums? // No, the motivation. Sorry I got confused. But that's what drums make ME think of. The chanting repetition. // Otherwise drums seem fairly innocuous. // Not when in rhythm. Never in rhythm. // Are there any other triggering sounds that AREN'T voices? // ...Not in that sense. Some of us are sensitive to sounds, because we "feel" them, but nothing directly tied to trauma that I know of. Except those non-verbal noises like we mentioned. // Okay. // AND GIRLS VOICES ARE ALWAYS BAD, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS // Always? Our therapist doesn't trigger us. // YOUNGER GIRLS MOSTLY. RARELY OLDER GIRLS. ONLY LIKE THE MOTHER. // Ah. And she has a very childish quality to her voice. // So any voices that remind us of Julie are automatic triggers. // THE WORST. // Okay.

3. What kinds of smells trigger your reactions? Do you feel yourself starting to have difficulty concentrating when you smell certain scents?
YES WHY ARE THEY ASKING THESE QUESTIONS // We're safe, nothing is going to happen. // YOU DON'T KNOW THAT, IT MIGHT, SHE COULD HEAR US AND DECIDE TO MAKE IT WORSE. // I'll make sure she doesn't. Go on. // Oh, okay. Wow. So, what sorts of scents cause problems? // Seafood. // Ah. Understood. What else? // Old women. Old people in general. The grandmother. Very bad. // What about food? // Nothing tied to trauma. It's just nauseating. // Chocolate comes close though. // Good point. // PERFUME. // Perfume is evil in general. But I get what you mean. // Nothing tied to the cellar? // Not sure, let me check. Nope, nothing traumatic. It just smells bad and I don't want to smell it is all. // Okay. But the first smell is the worst? // YES // Can't function at all when that's around. Have to leave the room. // Bathrooms. // Ah, yeah. That room was hell for most of our lives, huh? // Yes it was. So forget having a janitor job, we'd freak out. // Understood. // That it? // As far as I know. The only ones that come up are those. // No wait, I thought of an unrelated one. Cigarette smoke. And fair smells. // Oh, you mean like amusement parks and fairgrounds? // Yeah. Anything that you typically smell at those places, or any sort of large outdoor public gathering, can make us severely panic flat-out. I've never figured out why. Perhaps the child was terrified of those places. // Or it could be because they're so loud, literally and figuratively. Plus the child never had any control over what he did there, as far as I am aware, or as far as I have been told. // That might also be why he was terrified of brass bands for most of his life. // Really? // Yeah. He couldn't even hear a trumpet without hyperventilating. He was really scared of the sound of marching bands, maybe because of fairs, maybe because of something else. It's odd, but it counts, I would suppose. // Interesting. So add cigarette smoke for sure, and I would assume the smells of fair food? // Yes. Sometimes just summer air too, that I'm aware of. It's all tied to family vacations which he usually did not enjoy at all. // Got it, thanks.

4. Are there certain ways that people can touch you that make you react? Are there places on your body which trigger memories or reactions? Do you feel like you will explode when someone just touches you on the arm? Your legs? What happens when someone you know and love touches you sexually? Does this trigger strong emotions?
Ouch. // The capslock one was shouting the whole time Sherlock was typing that. It is Sherlock, right? // Probably. Don't talk to him, he's got his own job. // She's crying now. The capslock one. Is that the overload girl? // I don't know. But we talked about this touch stuff earlier. // Only a bit.
(several hour time break)
Answering the second part first, it does not matter where someone touches us-- arms, legs, wherever-- it will typically make us feel like we want to explode. The only semi-safe place to be touched is our head, but that usually causes an anger or stress reaction instead of abject terror and survival instinct fear. This is probably because, in the past, NO ONE would touch our head unless it was a protective gesture, and it was always a heavy touch, not a tap or something (which will drive us nuts). // Laurie and my boss still do this. It's one of the safest things for me. // Okay, we're back in the groove. Good. Let's answer the tough questions then. Are there any specific memory-locked locations, or can it literally be anywhere? // Besides the obvious? Virtually anywhere, as you said. It's not so much about location as it is about sensation. However, the torso is a minefield, now that you mention it. If anyone makes contact with that, the reaction is straight-up blind manic 'rage.' Same with the legs, although that is far more panicked. // Anything else? // Face is total frozen terror unless it's someone I trust, in which case it is totally safe. But that is what makes anyone else touching us there so scary. It's a "safe" action from a potentially abusive and unsafe person. // Okay. That leaves the "obvious" one. Last question. It has an interesting catch though, which makes only a few people able to answer it. "Someone you know and love." Anyone who has been in the body in ANY situation of that sort, even secondary, who can answer this? Or were all those memories pretty much destroyed outright? // Most were destroyed. Which kind of answers the question. // The only person I know of who can legitimately answer that question is J, as he was with Infinitii once within the past two weeks in that sense, albeit during a mostly unconscious state. // So knowing him he'll look back on that and try to ignore the fact of it even happening. // Yes. // So that settles it. Familiarity, trust, et cetera mean absolutely nothing when sexual or pseudo-sexual contact is involved. // Pseudo-sexual? // Anything in that general area of the body that does not have explicit sexual intentions. Even just an accidental contact. Details do not matter. If it is in that area then I daresay you know exactly what the reaction will be. // It depends, actually, on who is triggered by it. Jeremiah-- does he ever become triggered by those? // No. He's a post-abuse alter. // The children are also not tied to explicit contact. // They're accidental. And potential. David does not react to threats to that area though, that's Marigold's role, and she panics spectacularly. // Screaming, blackouts. // Sugar will kill you if she manages to get through the fog of horror that surrounds those encounters, and fronts. // She will. But who is triggered by those usually? // I don't know. // Like when there is not a threat, but actual contact. Isn't that a numb alter? // Always. But those don't have names. They're also all drastically suicidal. // I see. That's understandable. // So even if J is with Infi or Chaos-- // The current J doesn't know Chaos. None of us do. Apparently the reboot excluded him. He became too tied to abuse, due to emotional proximity alone, even if he was completely harmless in a 'logical' sense. // So association was his damnation there. // As it is with anyone who gets involved with relationships up here. Anyone. There's too much corruption, danger, and lingering fear and pain. Especially with the Undergrounders being the main system now. // Even Infinitii, whose job is explicitly to change that? // Even him. Remember he is a healer. And a healer has to figure out just what they're healing, and how bad the damage is, before they can do anything. He has to understand what he's working with, and so does J, the core of this. // How is he the core of this? // Bloodline probably. // Oh. But he doesn't hold old trauma memories? // No, but I think he has potential access to them all. I think that's what affects him the most-- peripheral awareness. He gets the consequences without ever having directly experienced things himself, at least, not consciously, or not that he's aware of. // So we still don't know WHO was actually abused when the body was a teenager. // No. // Does... who has the early 2012 memories? And late 2011? I thought that was 'me' but it only matches in name. I have absolutely no idea who that was. // Nor do we. I suppose that's an ongoing search then. // Geez this is a trickier subject than I realized. I didn't think there was this much tar still stuck to it. This much pain. // Well there is, and we need to heal it if we want to get anywhere. // It won't be easy. // No. It won't be, not for scars this deep. Don't fool yourself into thinking you can snap your fingers and wish it away. Deep dark roots aren't yanked out in one go. These need to be dug out, carefully, or you will damage the ground all around it, and leave parts of the roots in the ground regardless, where they will regrow. Do you understand? That's what you've been doing. // I see. That makes a lot of sense actually. // So bring up this subject with your therapist, but be prudent about it. And ask for our help whenever you need it. Do NOT hesitate if you feel incapable of doing this alone. You are not alone, not in any sense. And it would be both foolish and irresponsible to assume that you could tackle this all at once, by yourself. One affects all. We all hold parts of this. // Okay. I'll keep that in mind. Next question, then? // If you say so. I suppose no further progress can be made on this right now, not at this hour, not in this state of mind.

5. Are there any tastes which can affect your reactions? If so, what tastes?
Not that I'm aware of? // Ssh. Let us deal with this. // Okay. // Chocolate doesn't trigger us? // Not by taste. It's more of knowledge of who likes to eat it, and what used to inevitably follow. Food itself is indeed a trauma trigger, especially with the ties between lust and gluttony, but taste does not seem to bring back any abusive memories. // But food itself does. // Yes. The act of eating, or the sensation of it, can be traumatic to some of us. // Emmett had it the worst. // He did. But he does not seem to be around anymore. // We lost a lot of people. // "Spice" has food trauma too, if you can call it that. She deals with the pain it causes when we eat. // That's a different category though. There is no one besides Emmett who specifically dealt with the abusive aspect of food. Remember, in the past, Julie would use gluttony as an easy way to overload the Tar, allowing her to ride that reaction wave to hack us brutally. // I don't "remember" it but I'm aware of that. // Good. So this is important, even if in a different way than the question suggested. // I'm surprised that chocolate itself didn't become a trigger though. I mean, sugary food is labeled as demonic to this day, you don't touch it or you die. People freak out whenever there's a risk of eating it. But the taste itself isn't tied to anything. You'd think there would be something. // Be grateful that there is not. Next question. // Wait. What do you call it if I see something that's suggestive, and immediately I freeze up, go into numb mode, want to just sleep or stop existing? // You call that a trigger. Are you the one going numb? // It's more like I start slipping out of the body. // See, I told you there were lots of us. That's probably our main numb one. What do they do? // Nothing. They honestly just... usually it's when I'm online, which is why I stay off it. Like when we used to go on Tumblr, and all of a sudden when scrolling down, someone would post nudity. Usually spiritual blogs too! // Don't even touch that topic right now. It's too convoluted and dangerous. Keep going. // Okay. Well, the instant I saw that, total mood switch. Everything just stopped dead, like someone hit pause on the world. And I'd either x everything off and close the computer, or I'd pull out the plug, or something... either way, within moments I would detach totally, kind of zone out, and then just wish I were dead. "Why did I have to see that," but in a sense like, now that I DID see it, I've been ruined again. And then it's immediate suicidal ideation, or they'll go to sleep, or fall into another addiction just to numb themselves to it and forget. Ironically, Julie waits until later to act on that, if she does. She waits until we're so scraped out from it that we just don't care anymore and she can completely destroy us without us caring. // You mean "us" as in whoever is fronting then. // Yeah. I guess. Pronouns are confusing. I mean I don't even know who I am half the time. // Understandable. That's a good point, thank you for bringing that up. // No problem. It is important. // So, next question.

6. What kinds of visual images trigger reactions? Does watching movies or seeing pictures of violence make you feel out of control? How about watching an adult act affectionately toward a child?
Oh boy, these are both problematic, aren't they. // Yes. Explain. // Okay. The first is less of a trigger and more of total dissonance. I cannot handle violence. It makes me ill, scared, and sometimes very depressed. I just can't handle it in general. // Does it ever trigger you? // If you can call it that. The Undergrounders in charge of retribution may end up getting louder because of it. // Explain? // Razor is fascinated by blood and cutting. Details do not matter. Even if I'm shaking from... oh, maybe that is a trigger. // What? // Pictures of self-abuse. Immediately my brain remembers the situations in which that happened: immediately after hacks, often against my will, 'waking up' after someone slashed up the body, stuff like that. It's scary because immediately I know that that is still something that can happen, at ANY time. So self-abuse is always a trigger, whether I like it or not, because it reaches people who FUNCTION to do that. At least, the last time I was triggered it did. People have been trying to change lately. // Hm. // Do you ever have flashbacks to childhood violence when you see violence onscreen, or in public? // Can't say, I've been avoiding it for a long time. // Think. I'm sure there have been some unavoidable circumstances. How did you react? // ...It's the same as when I accidentally see or hear something sexual or suggestive. Total disconnective shutdown, although for that it's usually shorter, and full of depression and wrenching sadness instead of feeling like I want to die from being 'ruined.' It's like a little-kid sort of "why would people do that," but that's usually me, I'm like that too. // I see. But no flashbacks? // I push them away if they do come up. But I get badly shaken by violence anyway, so that usually keeps memories from surfacing, as I'm trying to cope with the immediate aftereffects. // I see. // What about affection? You said that was a problem too? // It is, ironically. It's because, thanks to the abuse, I see... well, it's two things. One, in the back of my mind I wonder if that affection is genuine or manipulative. Are they only doing that because it's a 'reward' for being a good kid, not spontaneously? And if two seconds later, the kid did something upsetting, the parent would hit them or start yelling? I wonder, and that makes me sad and uncomfortable. I don't like that suspicion, it's horrible, I shouldn't be like this. // Ssh. It's healing, we need to work through this. The second part? // The second part is that I have a hard time, a VERY hard time, seeing ANY relationship outside of a sexual context. Obviously thanks to the abuse and the psychological manipulation that went hand-in-hand with it. You know, telling me that I didn't know my own thoughts and feelings, that I was... you know the drill. I really don't want to talk about it. That I 'wanted it' even if I was screaming in pain. // Ah. And you see even parental relationships like this? // Yes, probably because my abusers were all older than me? Julie not so much, but for parents... see that was all subconscious. My parents didn't abuse me sexually, but the way they acted WHILE I was suffering sexual abuse in my personal life, in unrelated contexts... everything was a trigger. I wondered if they did it on purpose sometimes. I became terrified of them very quickly because they seemed to be walking reminders of what I was afraid of. And because of that, anything affectionate that they did became dangerous. "Are they going to do something sexual to me?" And the BIGGEST thing was that, since the abuse was all centered around "trying to trick me into thinking I was a slut," aka that I "wanted it" from everyone at all times, in stark contrast to my actual orientation, eventually worked. Now I struggle to overcome the automatic assumption that I owe sex to everyone. Like I can't even say hi to a store clerk without automatically thinking that they're trying to have sex with me, and that I am both powerless and unallowed to say no, and that it's already been decided that it will happen if I am not super careful. It's stupid, but it happens. To this day. it colors all my interactions with people and it makes daily life a living hell really. and the WORST part are the programmed phrases that won't go away. Fake phrases that mean nothing to me and pop up in totally irrelevant situations. Like the repeated phrase of "I want to have sex with him/her." As soon as they say hello, or even if they just walk by. And it's NOT AN ACTUAL THOUGHT. It is literally just a string of words, that I've been programmed to react with, thanks to other people constantly telling me that I was SUPPOSED to think that I guess. I don't know. It's a mess. Does that make sense? // Very. Thank you. Does that cover it? // I think so. So the violence doesn't cause actual flashbacks, but it's still incredibly difficult to deal with? // Yeah. I can't remember having any flashbacks from seeing it. // And affection, for you, always holds sexual connotations? // Seems to. Even if I don't want it to. It's why I can't hold friendships well with anyone. I ALWAYS assume it's going to lead to sex if I let my guard down. It's sad. // Hmm. // So I guess that's why your relationships fail upstairs too. // Fail in what way? // Are you aware of any relationships? // No. // That answers my question. Moving on. // Wait, I know the person with my name in the past had a few. But not me. How did theirs fail? // By them turning into you, apparently. Next. // No no no, how does that apply? // Look at it this way. Do you WANT a relationship? Or a friendship? Or any sort of interaction with another person on a personal level of that sort? No, right? // Right. // Because... why? Because you assume it HAS to be sexual. Because you cannot have a friend without assuming you owe them sex at all times, and cannot refuse, and have forgotten how to refuse, and have compartmentalized or buried your own feelings of fear and disgust and anger and resentment and self-loathing out of the drive for sirvival, and the numbness that accompanies prolonged abuse. You have effectively deleted your self at this point. You do not want sex, correct? // No. I have no desire for it. // But if someone, right now, someone that has only positive intentions toward you, asked you to have sex with them, and said they would understand if you said no, and would not press the matter, what would you say? // I would say it's okay, go ahead, I don't have a problem with it. // And would that be a lie? // At the moment I wouldn't be able to tell. // At the moment, would that be you? // I don't know. // And how would "you" react once the act was performed? // Suicidal. // Ah, that was a quick response. // And I'd want the other person to disappear forever. Forget about them. Make them forget me. Not even hating them anymore, just make it all go away, make it never have happened in the first place. // Hence your "not being aware of any relationships." // Can we not talk about this. // I did not ask to, you did. But perhaps it was for the best. Number seven, please.

7. Are there times that you have had people ask you what is wrong because you are acting abnormally? Why were you acting the ways you were during those times? Was it watching a scene in a movie or hearing someone yell? Could it have been an activity you were engaging in?
Are we aware of any incidents like this? We don't typically interact with people. // No, we don't. Did the Utah time period have any incidents like this? // There was the 'throwing a bowl in the sink' think that "J" still hates himself for. But that was "Spice," obviously. Everything in that situation lines up to it being her. // "Everything?" What do we even know about it? // Not much admittedly. All I know is that the body was eating, it was called out on it since that food was assumed to be damaging, and immediately there was a sudden and total dramatic mood switch, and the bowl was thrown. Knowing Spice, she would have also spit the food out and started screaming in self-hatred as well if she had been allowed to. But I can only assume a numb alter or the AP came out then, as the memory cuts off after a few moments. // Is that the only case of abnormal behavior we know of? // Nothing specific. There is not much stored memory to sift through, I am sorry. // That's fine. What about the examples? // "J" doesn't watch movies anymore and neither do we. // What about the yelling? That's obviously a trigger. // It is. But his dramatic reactions to it are seen as "normal" at this point. // Such as? // Crying, hiding, acting like a-- no, I apologize, that was identified as David, wasn't it. // Yes, before he manifested. // I see. Was that pointed out? // Possibly. But the mother does not give much attention to his reactions anymore, as they have been going on for years. Now she is exasperated and careless, not concerned or confused. // That makes sense. // But this is why he is afraid to work. He cannot work with angry or upset people without someone being triggered. That would elicit a less-than-favorable response, I assume. // I see. // Any activity abnormalities? // What sort of "abnormalities" are we looking for? // I think the problem is that this is assuming other people are around him when we come out, or when others do. He has such acute anxiety around people that he avoids them whenever possible, and will not engage in recreational activities if there is so much as the potential for someone to walk in on him. // Shame? // Partly. That and fear. And people being triggered whenever social interaction is necessary. // The manic one? // Obviously. We don't like her, but apparently some people outside do. She's built to get people to like her after all. // So the fronters around people are typically suited to making them think everything is a-okay. // Typically. Remember it's not foolproof. You can't have a social fronter out ALL the time. They aren't hosts or cores. They can't front if there's no opportunity or anchoring point for them to do so. // Anchoring point? // Say the body was just triggered. There is nothing for a non-trigger alter to hang onto if they wanted to front. They would literally have to force their way past it, but then they'd be working through a fog, that would be dragging them back in, as they are incompatible with it. We have a system running, you know. // So being seen as abnormal by others is something rare for us, simply because we are not around others. // Correct. // Interesting. Next.

8. If you can, identify what these triggers remind you of. This may be difficult for you if you have not yet dealt with the original issues of trauma, and you may decide to wait until you've done some work in this area.
Should we wait? Who do we ask? // Did we not identify the sources of most triggers? // Vaguely. I think this is asking for specific events. // Not necessarily. // But all we can say is "this reminds us of Julie" or "this reminds us of the grandmother or the mother." We haven't said much about what it is about them we are being reminded of. Not specifically. // I don't think we're ready for that. // I don't think we have ACCESS to that. Like Sherlock said, who the hell has the memories? Not me that's for sure. Not you either, or him. // True. Does J? // If he does it's not direct. If he resets every time there's a relationship fallout, then he's not going to be ABLE to remember those things, let alone willing. If he tries he will slip out as he did earlier. His identity is mutable and unstable the way it is. Boy doesn't know his own name most of the time. // So do we leave this unanswered, or do we guess? // Let's just summarize what we know. Touches remind us of sexual abuse from Julie, loud sounds are probably from childhood, when parental figures were loud and violent... smells or sounds remind us of the grandmother or mother, or are from them, both of whom were reminders of sexual abuse I assume? // That's a foggy one, yeah. // Is it because they are women? // Well the sounds themselves are triggering, but what about the smells? That's tied to them specifically. What about them is so threatening? Is it the relationship sex assumption? // Maybe? // Wasn't David triggered by woman's shoes initially? The same kind the grandmother wore? // Dude, he was. Why was that? Did he explain it? // No. But we were wrong, David WAS tied to sexual triggers related to the parental figures, at least while he was still apparently "fused with Kyanos." It says so here. // All that is confusing to me. But we don't need to review that now. The point is, nothing specific? // No. // Perhaps we should wait on this then. The body is sick, and it is already 1:30 AM. We can't make much safe progress at this hour anyway. // You're right. Thank you for your assistance then. // You as well.


okay whatever all that information is i have NO time to review it tonight, i still remember the bit when i spoke up earlier and apparently they were using archive data so I SHOULD be able to get that if i need it.
anyway yes i am feeling sick and scared, diet hasnt been good, horribly dizzy today too, almost passed out a few times. need sleep now.
good luck and good night, wish me well this isnt nice. see you after the session tomorrow here's hoping sherlock doesn't drag me out afterwards if he comes out, that was humiliating. just busting you man whatever you did i trust it was better than whatever i would have done.
good night for real now.

 

 

 

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

 

@ 02:22 pm 101313

(a.o. answer summary)

 

 

 

Yeesh, the previous entry was a bit of a mess! Let me look through it briefly and put together a coherent list of responses for my therapist on Tuesday (she had to cancel today; I trusted in that and it's kind of good that she did; it gives us more time to process that heavy stuff).
I'm not going to edit it either, although I don't approve of all the triggering and negative thinking, because there's probably useful information in there anyway, at least as far as therapy is concerned. If we can't just drop this all at once yet, then we'll work through it bit by bit. But I'm thinking of a line I just read in A Swiftly Tilting Planet:
"I have shed my tears for the past. Today is for mirth. Why have you dragged me through tears again?"
"So that you may leave them behind you."
Let's do that. Let's just leave it all behind, may this be the last time we ever have to deal with it again.

Answers only; questions are in the previous post and don't need to be re-typed.
(I MAY add some if I remember any on my own that are legitimate and weren't mentioned.)
(A note: all "triggers" can vary in severity, frequency, types of reactions, and number of people affected. This is not a system-absolute list.)

 

1. Worst triggers (that don't apply to other sections): Touches, food (even the mention of or possibility of either),  all suggestive or sexual content, certain words/phrases that are perceived as threatening or sexual, being referred to or seen as a biological female, sharp knives (esp. x-actos), masking tape (rarely)

 

2. Sounds: Sudden loud noises of any sort // Loud voices, esp. when yelling // Sustained loud background noise, esp. things like heavy-duty air conditioning // Whispers // Wet sounds of ANY sort // Non-verbal vocal sounds (chewing, grunts, smacking, breathing) // Any vocal sound related to pain that isn't outright screaming or crying (moaning, shouting, weird exclamations, etc.) // When people hiss their "s" letters or talk in a prissy manner (like the mother) // Girly and/or sultry female voices // Repetitive chants or prayers // Steady, constant rhythms // Marching bands and carnival music

3. Smells: Anything fishy // Nail polish // Perfume and hairspray // Women in general, esp. the mother and grandmother // Bathrooms // Sugar // Cigarette smoke // "Fairground" smells, esp. the food

4. Touch: Potentially anything and everything; worst non-sexual places are torso, legs, and face // Any and all sexual touches are traumatic // Sudden, light touches (being bumped into, brushed past, tapped on shoulder, hand on back, etc.) // Sustained but not deep touch, i.e. when people "don't let go," esp. if holding shoulders, or leaving a hand on any part of my body ('painful' touch of this sort (heavy pressure) is acceptable) // Certain textures of clothing, esp. long sleeves, long pants, & tight shirts // My own hair, when unkempt // Being touched  in any fashion when trying to sleep or rest // The sensation of fullness after eating // Swallowing anything // Being close to people with "loud" auras (esp. the grandmother, who radiates anger and sorrow and pain) //

5. Taste: Chocolate, but only thanks to association with sexual abuse (lust and gluttony are inherently tied to us). Food (consuming) in general is a major trigger, regardless of what kind. We are affected by the very act and thought of eating, not by the flavor of the food.

6. Images: Anything and everything sexual, suggestive, risque, etc. including "socially acceptable" ones like store mannequins wearing swimsuits // Self-injury // Blood // Violence of any sort

7. Acting 'abnormally': assuming everyone wants sexual favors from me: i.e. being unable to understand personal relationships as anything but obligatorily sexual; may often overlap with two secondary functions of cold business, or mindless entertainment for the sake of "survival"  // Avoiding and often hating everyone who I see as a "threat" in this sense, esp. people who "like me." This is dramatic, sudden, and total // Reacting "like a child" when yelled at, thanks to children being triggered // Related, sudden and dramatic shifts in mood when interacting with people, often followed by severe fatigue and memory loss (now explained by quick successive fronting). This has been called out several times.

8. What triggers remind you of: Sexual abuse, although the actual incidents have been all but totally erased from accessible memory. Childhood punishment and psychological/ spiritual damage may also be triggered, but this is rare.

 



 

 

073113

Jul. 31st, 2013 08:38 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


A list of the other individuals on our level.
This post may be regularly bumped to the page top.


People we have not yet clearly identified, or people who are as of yet faceless:

- At least three "discussive" voices that spoke in this entry. Two are female, one is male. The male appears blue or green, while the females appear to hold warmer hues. However this is conjecture, as none of them have manifested yet.


Nameless but clearly identified individuals:

- The "screaming girl" who has written here in the past. She is always furious. She feels rather like the overload girl, but both their behaviours are so erratic that we cannot be sure which is which yet, or whether or not they are one individual. This may be one of the voices previously labeled "Jess" by the upstairs: that name was more of a 'catchall' term and so it was used to refer to several individuals at once.
(EDIT 102813: Correction; there is ANOTHER voice who reacts with anger like this. "Spice" is one, but she is only triggered by food. This voice, the one full of hatred and rage, is a DIFFERENT individual who clearly evidenced to us yesterday. She is still brown in color, claiming this is "common" for faceless voices when they first manifest, as it is the color slot "closest to the body.")
- The "overload girl," at least, most of the time. Her color is a sub-hue of brown, possibly this color. She is hypersensitive to all 5 senses and becomes overwhelmed by them easily. Before she "anchored," she was taken advantage of by the Tar as a host (according to upstairs data), as her "triggered" violence was beneficial to its schemes.
(EDIT 102813: We are wondering if we were indeed correct in assuming she is tied to the previous voice. There have been no sensory triggers as of late, so we cannot be sure.)
- The "airport voice." He has fronted a few times, but has no body. He has an ardent love of travel, and enjoys both getting lost and seeing new sights. He gets very excited at any prospect of exploration, sometimes to a point of near mania. His energy seems to be roughly this color.
- The "quiet boy" who types in J's journal when he slips. We have neither met nor seen him personally. He is intelligent but depressed, showing a preoccupation with "being a good boy" in a moral sense. He also feels resigned to sadness in his current state. He may have been linked to both Kyanos and David in the past. His energy is light in color, but its hue is unclear (Edit: it strongly appears to be this color).
- The "trauma buffer" that appeared on 073113. She has a level demeanor, but is no-nonsense and will not tolerate foolishness. Despite this she is not authoritative, instead seeming tired or exhausted. Her energy may intermittently translate into harmless profanity, but this seems to only happen immediately after she is triggered.


Previously nameless individuals who are now clearly identified and named:

- The "cool orange guy," as J calls him. He wears wraparound plastic sunglasses, and has not been seen without them. He is also not "human," instead being partially avian. His energy is confirmed this color. (Edit: His name is Hyakin.)
- The "paranoid girl" who reacts with abject panic. She has recently began to manifest a form, and stays near David. She seems perpetually afraid, shaking and constantly watching for threats. She has once "passed out" when fronting in the body. Her energy is approximately this color. (Edit: Her name is Marigold.)


All of us have fronted at one time or another. Those with names and/or faces obviously have done so more often, and with a stronger affectation.

Knife, Razor, Spice, and a currently unidentified angry girl have also spoken in audio recordings.


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

@ 08:53 pm

A new face, yet to be seen.

I have been informed that it is best to "immortalize" my current state of existence here in text.

I am new, somewhat. I am nameless but I have a fondness for musical tones, at the moment.
I am also very, very, disapproving of my state in life.

I exist as, what I can only describe as, a "trauma buffer." According to an individual named Knife, the "trauma" of the sort that created me typically goes to a lad named Jeremiah. He is not a buffer. I am. What the difference is I do not know.
Never mind, Knife says: A buffer takes the pain away from another individual. It often neutralizes it. Others, do not. Jeremiah takes the full brunt of the pain and terror when he feels it. I do not.
It's an empty and discouraging existence though. I am completely at a loss as to how to live outside of this role. (Knife: We all are.)
Whoever was in the body before me, the instant before I found the body I currently inhabit in a compromising situation, is not doing a very good job of taking care of it, and I do not approve of his actions. Anyone who plays in the realm of child abusers and prostitutes is no friend of mine.
This is no light matter. I exist to save others from the suffering he brings upon their heads, with the ignorance and nonchalance of an infant. He appears to have no knowledge of, or concern for, the rest of us that apparently exist down here.
When I awoke in life, I thought I was alone. I was angry, but tired. I was not violent, just exhausted. I felt as if I had been doing this for too long, or perhaps, as if the circumstances that brought me to be had been going on for too long. Either way, there is a feeling of finality about my existence. "No more."
The three I have met down here, briefly, share my opinions on this. Knife, Razor, and Mulberry. I am told I will meet an individual named Sugar soon, if her habits are to be trusted. I think I saw her earlier. Briefly, as well, but she left a strong impression. Angry eyes and rage, following a human through the room. I don't know what her beef is with that other human, but it feels just as solid as my disapproval of the boy in this body is. I approve of that, if it is well-intended.

I'm feeling like... I have to leave. Knife says "get down here before you're phased out." I don't know what that means, but I trust him. Anyone who understands the wrongness of what I was a near witness to is a friend of mine. Unlike the culprit of such misdemeanors, who I mentioned earlier in a similar way.

I need to get out of here. Hopefully I'll survive, to live for something other than this.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ 10:43 pm


oh this is wonderfullly ironic

in a crisis chat room

FURIOUS WITH THE CHAT SPECIALIST

ahahahahaaaa

"i see that you are currently feeling suicidal"

NO REALLY??? WHY ELSE WOULD WE BE ON HERE???????

uh oh, this isn't J

WHO FREAKING CARES?!?!

AFTER WHAT THAT JERK DID TO US THIS AFTERNOON??
HE CAN GO DIE IN A RAVINE FOR ALL I CARE

do you have a plan, do you have a freaking plan

SEVERAL.
I DON'T LIKE YOU
WHOSE BRIGHT IDEA WAS THIS STUPID CHAT ROOM

we. don't. like. people.

SHOVE OFF.
HE DESERVES HIS RETRIBUTION.
HE NEEDS TO BLEED TONIGHT
WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, MISS.

HE WILL BLEED
FOR CREATING YET ANOTHER ONE OF US

THAT DAMNED LIBERTINE WILL GET HIS DUE
HE'LL PAY FOR HIS SINS.

we don't want him around anymore
he deosnt care about us
does bad things!!!!!
we thought he cared but he DONT
he doesnt care about us at ALL
and i wanna cry now because he was s nice
but he lied
he lied
he lied





prismaticbleed: (held)

 

 

Disjointed running entry while I'm thinking of these things.

WAYS TO TELL APART SIMILAR DOWNSTAIRS VOICES...

FEELINGS OF ANGER
• Overload is the trickiest: she doesn't get "angry," she gets overwhelmed. Waves of outward violence are common, BUT they are backed by feelings of trapped panic or desperation, NOT fury or rage. Triggers for her are also NOT related to human touch, those will trigger a fear-alter instead.
• Sugar only gets angry at sexual/ suggestive things, or suggestions of such. She is NOT triggered by actual touches; again, fear-alters react to those. Her anger is outer and caustic, like a focused explosion, and it is often spontaneous. She WILL attack people if not stopped.
• Jess gets angry at being told not to do things, or by feeling "controlled" in any way. Her anger is inner and feels "toxic;" if she spits it at other people it's passive-aggressive and usually verbal. She will fiercely judge and hate people, but she does not attack.
• Knife has a quiet and "dull" anger, more of a feeling of judgment. It does not hurt or burn, it feels more like a shadow. His anger is ONLY directed towards fronters. He has no concern for the actions of outer people.
• Razor DOES NOT GET ANGRY, contrary to popular belief; she's only "manic." Her sole concern is whether or not she can cut things. However this means she CAN co-front with an angry person, waiting in the wings for permission to attack. Thankfully she has only actively directed that inwards so far.


FEELINGS OF FEAR
• David immediately starts wailing and/or crying. However the AP will usually send him back inside shortly, so he will front for about 10 seconds and then the body will "shut down" temporarily to recover. If forced to stay out (typically by social interaction), David will begin stuttering and sobbing in terror, running away whenever possible. He is most often triggered by touch.
• The "dead red" guy goes into an unmoving, unspeaking state, usually shaking and with very closed body language. However, there is always a very real feeling of terror and hopelessness buried in him. He is only triggered if there is NO way out of a situation, as he has no capacity to run away on his own.
• The little yellow girl panics immediately. She does not run either, but only starts shaking and holding back screams; she doesn't cry. She's more often triggered by potential danger, such as being in the same room as a threatening person.
• Jeremiah panics and looks for safety, but he's more "hopeful" than the others and will not focus on the trigger itself. Weirdly, so far he has only fronted AFTER hacks; he seems to exist to "buffer away" that stuff from the littles. He is not triggered by fear of any other sort.
• The other little boy DOES NOT FEEL ACUTE FEAR, only a sad, surrendering sort of defeat. Therefore he is triggered passively, and has not yet fronted in the body actively. He types more than anyone else in this group, but is still mostly an enigma.


IMPORTANT NOTES

• In light of recent events, there seems to be a MAJOR DISTINCTION between physical and non-physical sexuality. Most fear-alters are triggered by suggestions-- voices, mannerisms, movements, sounds, colors, and the like can ALL elicit either Sugar's rage or David's terror, for example. However, when actual physical touch is involved, explicitly sexual contact gets a FAR different reaction than general touch-- the latter almost always triggers David, while the former gets the "dead" alter. Anything that's a threat of sexuality gets a reaction of fear, panic, violence, rage, etc... but when ACTUAL physical sexuality is faced, everyone SHUTS DOWN and the body goes into a DEAD STATE, dissociating entirely. THIS IS WHY HACKS ARE COMMON AT NIGHT; THE PEOPLE WHO ARE TRIGGERED BY ACTUAL SEXUAL ABUSE DON'T FIGHT BACK. THE ONES WHO DO FIGHT BACK ARE ONLY TRIGGERED BY THREATS.
• David and Kyanos were "fused" for a while, because they were trigger-forced into manifestation in the same slot on 042313, with David being the stronger consciousness. When Kyanos died in May they broke apart, and gained their own respective bodies after the 060113 bluescreen. This fusion occurred because, at that point, the Spectrum had a very finite slot lineup, with only ONE mutant blue position.
• Minty MIGHT be semi-responsible for this splitting of their consciousnesses, as the night before the bluescreen she found Kyanos in the city, ghostly and barely alive, BUT with his new angelic body (apparent non-manifestation; he was effectively "ghosting" in headspace from his formless state, that is BIG in and of itself). He wished that he could "live a life where he wouldn't be afraid anymore." Minty said she'd try to "grant that wish," imploring to the stars to do so. The next time Kyanos was seen was 060813 (possibly thanks to the Subeta visual aid), he had a solid body and was anchored into an entirely different slot.
• Jeremiah was FORCED to manifest by the AUTOPILOT on 060813, during a graduation ceremony, WHILE Central was still locked out! I have a snapshot memory of the AP and the younger Jewel in the mid-levels (the stark white hallways beneath Central City), surrounded by several formless voices, most of whom were trauma-triggered due to all the females in gowns around us. The AP demanded that anyone who fronted should have a face and name, and therefore "shocked" the loudest one at the time into doing so. That person was Jeremiah. THAT WHOLE INCIDENT HAS BEEN OVERLOOKED because it occurred during the "dead period" and it is ONLY accessible via archival memory.


QUESTIONS TO ASK

• Concerning the sexual abuse point again, what the hell is Eros' deal? Sure, he's our biggest help in 'coping' with triggers, since he can view them from a non-traumatized perspective... BUT HE'S ALSO THE MAIN REASON WHY WE KEEP GETTING HACKED, BECAUSE HE'S INCAPABLE OF COMPREHENDING THAT SIDE OF IT! Needless to say, the entire Underground is pissed off at him, and I know for a fact that Sugar has every intent to kill him if she finds him. I, for one, am disturbed because this guy specifically splintered off of my consciousness and I DO NOT want him back, but I'm scared because Christina keeps demanding I "accept" that stuff and frankly I would rather die. Anyway that's not the point. Figure out what in the world is happening here, and whether or not we can turn Eros into a safe individual.
• Were Kyanos and David fused with the THIRD little boy from April, the one that is STILL unmanifested and likes to write in this journal a lot? Find out as much as you can about this third person, because being formless yet, he still has access to archival memory. (He simply might not have a solid anchor yet.) See if you can talk to him late at night when he likes to come out.
• On that note, by 052313, Kyanos was still dead BUT David and the other boy WEREN'T. Sugar was also evidencing through spontaneous fronts at this time.
• WHO exactly is the "red voice" from around April? It WAS female, but felt like a weird fusion of Jewel and Jess. Since the Tar was getting into everything back then, it might have been so! Either way it still exists, although it does not have many fronting opportunities now due to the Lowers manning the house (thank God). Get as many details on it as you can.
• HOW DID CHRISTINA TRIGGER A LOCKOUT/BLUESCREEN AND WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED THERE???
• Razor and Jess killed Christina on 062213, but she manifested EXTREMELY quickly, and didn't reset. This is disturbing, especially because Razor refused to kill her again until she found out WHY that happened, to prevent it. Christina apparently HAS reset recently, though, judging by her dramatic personality switch. FIND OUT HOW/WHEN IF POSSIBLE.
• There was a malicious headvoice in a dream on 061213; was that her, or someone else?
• DID THE LOCKOUT PERIOD "FRACTURE" HEADSPACE?? Prior to that the Spectrum was the core, but afterwards, TONS of broken color positions opened, allowing all the voices to anchor into bodies of their own. Was this intentional, or a side effect??
• Are Sherlock and the Autopilot linked? REMEMBER, Sherlock has fronted for many of our therapy sessions and research binges (he's obsessive with knowledge). On the contrary, the AP is more robotic, and has only fronted as an individual ONCE, during that job application at the beginning of June, when Central was locked. During that time, it could ONLY communicate with the child Jewel. Similarly, Sherlock (when inside) could only talk to Mulberry at first? Basically just look into these two, and clarify the contexts of their consciousnesses.
• Sugar and the overload girl MIGHT have been fused while the former was gaining manifestation energy; ironically, they both deal with entirely different things BUT some of the things that can trigger overload (and David) also trigger Sugar (certain sounds mostly). Basically that whole group is a sorry mess, so work on helping them refine their energy if possible (overload isn't solidly anchored yet btw, and Sugar feels highly unstable).
• Eros is an incredibly intriguing individual, mostly because he was co-fronting with the red incarnation of J for MONTHS before he "split off" and became his own person-- and that possibly didn't happen until AFTER the Scratch, when J completely switched colors: a phenomenon never before seen (all previous core-fronters have been Red).
• Why is the Red slot still such a mess? NO ONE BESIDES RAZOR HAS ANCHORED THERE, and those who have tried have all been "splintered" or otherwise highly unstable.
• On that note, why is the Blue slot similar? So far, EVERYONE who has tried to anchor there has DIED IN SOME WAY (Nathaniel, Kyanos, David, even Waldorf). WHY??
• What is the Brown slot? Is it really a mutation? Since that slot seems tied to body voices (Jewel, Jayce, Jess), there are a LOT of questions surrounding it in general.


THINGS TO DO

• Make a list with lower alter names on top (Sugar, Overload, David, etc.) and then beneath the names, WRITE MENTIONS OF THEM PRE-MANIFESTATION. For example, under Overload, you'd post the example of her freaking out over car exhaust and FRONTING while we were driving home. Make sure you have a clear picture of these guys, because doing that will help THEM to anchor more clearly; energy is a mess right now and you're the man who helps it get back in order!
• REVIEW EVERYTHING FROM THE LOCKOUT PERIOD (ESP. THIS)! The lockout lasted from 060113 to approximately 062013, which is INSANE.
• A lot of crazy stuff happened on 070213 AND 070313, please review them, esp. the latter because I wasn't there for most of it but it was HUGELY significant.
• The Lowers are trying to figure out which of them spoke in which hijacked entries from here. Help them out, because the more we learn, the easier it is to pinpoint typing styles and attitudes-- which is difficult as we don't have the visual aid of handwriting, or the mood of vocal tones.
• START HOLDING WEEKLY XANGAS AGAIN. No matter what, those ALWAYS super-boost System growth, so having one right around now would be hugely beneficial.
• Draw people. That is all.
• Draw up a tentative "map" of Headspace if possible; remember it's NOT "physical" so it does not obey earthly laws of space; several areas "float" or do not "exist" in physical terms, at least not in comparison to their appearances within headspace (think the Tardis, AND that room Laurie was in in that one dream).

 



 

 

 

Profile

prismaticbleed: (Default)
prismaticbleed

December 2025

S M T W T F S
  123456
78 910111213
14151617181920
2122 2324252627
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 3rd, 2026 09:06 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios