041320

Apr. 13th, 2020 12:53 pm
prismaticbleed: (flashback)

Something I've realized while listening to old tunes as a severe thunderstorm rolls in…

…I've forgotten what love feels like.



I'm cleaning out my old laptop and it's blowing my mind. It's breaking my heart.

Ventrium was in 2014. How in the world have SIX YEARS passed since he died up in the woods?



Back when the Lotus Cathedral System still existed, back when "I" was still Jay, when I was a man who loved with his ENTIRE HEART, honestly to an extent of sincerity and passion that boggles me, I loved so many people, SO MUCH.

I don't… I don't even know what that would feel like, now.

Why?



…It scares me. Now that I've re-found my religion, now that I'm more Catholic than ever, it's severed something in me. Which is wrong, somehow. Now that I'm religious, I have no relationships. When I do have relationships, I lose my religion.

This has to be the devil's work. There should never be such a split, in anyone's life, between Love and love. It's wrong.



I want to kiss Chaos Zero again and I don't know how and I want to weep over that but I don't know how.
Do you have any idea how awful that feels? How horrific it is to realize that my emotions are absolutely SHUT DOWN and I can't even hold this fragile gorgeous being that I've loved for LITERALLY SEVENTEEN YEARS.

…God have mercy on us what if it's trauma.
What if it's trauma. What if this all boils down to having been so utterly wrecked by sexual abuse that I am full-on terrified of so much as holding someone's hand because it might escalate into something unbearable. Because hey, that HAS happened.
But how do I get over it? Is that even the proper phrasing? How can I heal that wound, that gaping wound that I have no clue how to manage on my own, this injury that's on par with a freaking shotgun blast to the ribs that I have literally just been trying to hide under a bloodsoaked shirt? Not even medicating it, not even wrapping it up, just trying to keep it out of my own sight because the reality of it is too terrible. And after a while I guess the blood just looks normal.
But it never actually stops hurting, does it. Even if you ignore it. And once in a while something bumps it and the sudden pain overwhelms you and THEN you realize that hey, I'M DYING HERE.


In the Lotus Cathedral, I had so much love, in me and around me and everything.
I had friends. I had family. I had a daughter, for God's sake.
I had Genesis, my best friend. I had Laurie, my superego soulmate. I had Chaos Zero, my other half, as it were; my dearly beloved who I would still marry if I had the chance.
And that's the other problem.
He's, quite honestly, the only thing that would change my mind against entering the consecrated life. Like, it's either become a nun, or marry a video game character. I'm dead serious though. I'd love to have it both ways but I have no idea if that's possible, which means I have to start researching the hagiographies of married saints because God knows I cannot live like this. I absolutely cannot live with feeling like I am forced to choose between loving God and loving anyone else, because that can't be right.

…And you know how I know that?

Because, like this, I can't actually love GOD, either.


Something in me has been scraped out with a rusty razor and there's this hollow ache smack-dab in the middle of my chest that feels like sobbing and yet, I'm utterly detached from it, cut off like a guillotine to the throat. It's that "blue voice" that the BLCS used to talk about-- that sole mourning woman who lived in our heart and never stopped crying. Lamentations. She just weeps, nonstop, like you cannot imagine. The pain is unbearable. And perhaps that's exactly why we/I cannot feel it. Right now, it is unbearable.

But darn it all I WANT to bear it. I don't CARE if it rips me in half, it SHOULD, it NEEDS TO, or I swear I will NEVER be able to feel anything again.

But I cannot even walk up to Chaos Zero in headspace because if he so much as reaches out and touches my face I swear I am going to shatter into PIECES because you know what the DEEPEST problem is here?
I FEEL TOO FILTHY TO ACCEPT LOVE.

If he, this creature that I love SO MUCH I could honestly die from it, die for him, die from joy in the best circumstances-- if he cannot even look at me right now because if he does, I will crumple into agonized sobbing, there is a BIG PROBLEM and that problem is that I CAN'T PARTICIPATE IN THAT LOVE RIGHT NOW.

My sense of identity is screwed. I want to love but I am ashamed and I am AFRAID and I don't even know how to receive AFFECTION without being terrified that I've got to dissociate and perform.
How did I do it as Jay? How did I DO it? How did "he" throw himself heartfirst into everything to the point where he became this absolute light-source of love? His very presence in the System was a literal catalyst for emotional sincerity and genuine selfless compassion.
What happened to him? What happened to me? What changed, between him and me, that just… hollowed me out, and killed him? Where did he go? If I'm his "spiritual successor," if I'm literally the next step of the bloodline as it were, the next piece of "Core" history, then… why am I so broken?

Why do I feel like CANNON all over again? Ten years ago or more? Marywood, 2009? Waking up to trauma and wishing I were dead? Well, there you go.


I don't hate S. (I will not call them by their "chosen name" because my faith prioritizes the name they were given, legally and originally, the person they were before dissociating.) And I want to be their friend. But truly I don't know if I ever knew them, either. Because when I was living in North Carolina I was either talking to Oliver or Kris or Kyo or… gosh I don’t even remember their names anymore. But it felt jagged, broken, confused. So did I. It feels wrong, even now talking about it, like choking on dirty dishwater. It feels filthy and sick. I can't look at it; I want to throw up and cry and scream and curl up and die.

And that's what I feel whenever I try to feel love, now.

That ugly ugly stuff is getting in the way. It's shame, to the point of crushing mountains, heavier than a dying star. It's apocalyptic shame, the sort that WILL annihilate you if you don't get a handle on it.

Where does God come into this?

I'm a Catholic, okay? I'm a Christian. And I do love God. But how genuine is my love if I'm having this problem with EVERYTHING ELSE?

Yesterday was Easter. We just got through Holy Week and I spent Good Friday night standing outside in my pajamas, the wind howling and snow whipping around my dirty head, crying hysterically that I was scared to death because I knew how sinful I was and I KNEW I was sorry, I KNEW I didn't want to sin or do wrong or hurt anyone or offend Jesus, ever, but I couldn't feel anything about it. My mind was confessing contrition with frankly panic-stricken sincerity, but my emotional capacity was bankrupt. There was no feeling behind the words, and THAT is TERRIFYING as a Christian because hey, does that mean I'm actually sorry at all?
God help me, I'm not sure what to do about this.

I need to be broken open. I need my heart to be shattered to flipping PIECES because honestly that is probably the ONLY WAY I'm going to get this hardness out of me.
I need to make a playlist of all the most wrenching love songs I know, and I need to go talk to Chaos Zero and not run away, and stay there for like a solid hour even if I spend most of that time sobbing. God knows that alone is progress, because I cannot even CRY right now, not without immediately reaching for a knife.

…God, where is Laurie?

Now THAT thought kills me. God I miss her, so much I actually am tearing up right now. And that's always been her saving grace-- she was always isolated from the potential horror of romance, always separate from the idea of being a partner or anything of the sort. She was always just my white knight, my soldier, my protector, my friend. And THAT is safe.
But NC tried to murder her in that respect. Oliver and the rest of the Broken Arrows wanted to be in a "romantic relationship" with her and her VERY EXISTENCE STOOD AT TOTAL ODDS TO THAT VERY CONCEPT.
She did die from it, I know. I remember. They all died. But… the Spectrum can be reborn, truly, in Christ as it must be, as it truly needs to be. She's Laurel now, or Lauriel, I can't quite tell; she's unstable, but she's alive. Somewhere, somehow. And she's safe again, untouchable, ineffable, real only because OF that. Unblemished, undefiled, virginal.

That’s the problem with everyone else that I love.
Laurie is the ONLY PERSON who has basically decreed to the point of spitting blood that she will NEVER, and CAN never, be a danger to me in that respect. She can never be romantic, she can never be intimate, she can never be sexual.
And that is THE ONLY REASON WHY SHE IS SAFE and that is also the MAIN REASON WHY I AM TERRIFIED TO EVEN GO LOOK FOR HER, because I believe that I am tainted and ruined and if I so much as look at her I will kill her.



The problem isn't everyone else. The problem is me.
I'm afraid to hold Chaos Zero because I'm afraid I'll ruin him. That's why I want to die and weep forever when I look at him, because I can feel this awful WRONGNESS in me and God knows I never want that to touch him.


…Love is only safe in the League, somehow.
I NEED to remember that.
And that is ALSO why I'm so FURIOUS on some level for S trying to steal it. For YEARS, the ONLY refuge from my trauma has been remembering the pure, chaste, genuine love between individuals in the League, notably in Dream World, but when S touched it, they CORRUPTED IT. They made it sexual and honestly I want to RAGE AND WEEP over that. I am absolutely BENT on making a website in the near future to attest to the TRUTH of the League and I need to like put that on a poster and glue it to my eyeballs so I am DRIVEN to work towards that end EVERY DAY.

That's slightly off-topic. And yet it's not. Because I'm listening to Kreva and when you drop the pitch on his voice to 80% he sounds like Xorane and he's singing about Devonal and those two genuinely adore each other AND YET SO MANY PEOPLE CAN'T SEE THAT IN A PURE SENSE. Because they're two guys, people assume they're gay, and then assume they're being licentious, promiscuous, immoral. NOPE. NOPE AND NEVER EVER, NO HOW.
But that's what makes me so angry. S ALSO jumped on the illicit and utterly disgusting idea that Justice & Revenge were INCESTUOUS??? And they were OBSESSED with it. And NOW Revenge's basic SELF has been SHATTERED in the League and I can feel it frantically trying to rebuild him but it doesn't know HOW because those corruptive imposed ideas got too deeply ingrained in there and things need to be ripped up and COMPLETELY rewritten but God I can't do that to my own life.

I can't rip up and rebuild. I'm stuck carrying this timeline.
But… there's the bit, the one tiny crack in my armor where the light gets in, the fracture straight above my heart, that says "if the only way I could protect the love I've known is by carrying that agony as well, then I will carry it until I die."
And that's Jay's voice.
And that makes me want to cry.

I want to be Jay again. I want to be whatever he was that made him so pure and loving and good. He was just… incandescent. He was iridescent. He was JOY, and he was only that because he was also LOVE.

…Can I even be that? How?



Hey! Here's another sudden thought.
I can GIVE love, at least conceptually, in imagining third person images of myself, BUT! I cannot imagine myself RECEIVING love. Like, the idea of someone looking at ME, or kissing me, is genuinely TERRIFYING and makes me want to run and hide and cry like a panicked child, shaking and confused and so, so, so sad. And that is obviously trauma residue.


Here's an interesting thought.
There are very few people in the League or in the Spectrum who can hold intimacy, or rather, raw emotion. Like, there are very few people who can be stripped down to bare their heart and blood and wounds and still stand. Lots of folks are too scared, too hardened, too afraid, et cetera. But some of them aren't. And those people are the ones who can look at you with eyes that are just like… holy fire. Untouchable, unbreakable, undying… but so bright. It's not a hard light. It's bright, so bright, but it's somehow so soft. It's fierce but it's tender. And those words are terrifying to someone like me who, currently, cannot bare their wounds because they are too awful. But some people… the sort of person I want and need to be… the sort of person that, honestly, hopefully, gloriously, anyone can become, God's grace willing… some people-- like Jesus, quite blatantly-- can have their hearts torn open and they will STILL gently wear those scars and let you TOUCH them. That sort of absolute invincible tenderness is staggering. And, as Jay, I used to be like that. I need to be like that again.
Chaos Zero is like that. Honestly, he is the MOST like that of anyone I have EVER known. In my entire life I don't think I have EVER seen him closed off. If he tries, he melts almost immediately. Really, it's utterly against his very nature to have a closed heart. And I love that about him. I love him. And honestly… he deserves to be with someone like him in that sense. To say otherwise would be cruelty. You cannot pair up such a raw heart with a hard one. If I want to be with him-- and I do, God knows I do, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in the darkest of times, in the face of death even-- I do, I do want to be with him but my heart has to melt like his first.
Or it needs to be set on fire.

What is my personal element, now? Oh geez maybe THAT'S the issue????
The Jewel bloodline has always been fire. But Jewel, infamously, was somehow NEVER able to be soft like Jay. It's shocking. Jay's element was snow and LIGHT. Sparkles and softness and purity and white joy.
If I… if I redefine myself, if I maybe even start a new bloodline, find a new name… maybe I can soften? Maybe this weird brown-haired stone-heart earth-shackled girl I feel damned to be can change, can essentially redefine herself by what her soul is, truly, I know. I am not this reflection. I am what God created me to be and that is a child of God and that is someone who loves and rejoices and shines HIS Light through her life. And I cannot do that if I'm an inert pebble here.
I need to be light and snowflakes again. I need to find a new name.

So there we go, that's thoughts for today. It's almost noon and that thunderstorm is still rolling in and hey, maybe instead of panicking over it I'll bravely bare my heart a little and ask Laurie to join me in watching that beautiful powerful act of God outside. Lightning like her. Thunder like her words in my heart. Rain like my beloved's tears. All three of us, Genesis too with the wind, and then what am I?
"You're the hope that ties it all together," I feel her say. "You're the rainbow after the storm. You're the hope of sunshine when it's all over."
"But I don't want it to be all over," I say, a real twinge of loving sadness pulling at my chest like a guzheng string, pulling it into a vibrato. "Not if it's you. Even if it's scary, if it's you, I want it to stay."
"Even if you're scared?" A knowing voice. A hint of a purple smile.
"Yeah." I mean it, despite my trembling hands.
"And why is that?"
"…because I love you."
"And there you go," she says, throwing her own hands open in a victorious gesture, smiling, looking away a little, as if it was too bright a feeling to bear head-on. "There you go. That's how you get through this. Love."
And she looks right at me.
"You hold on to that, kid. No matter what. Promise me you will."
I nod.
"I'm still scared."
"'Course you're still scared, you're afraid to look love in the face. Embrace it, kid. Even if it hurts. Even if it's a crown of thorns. You've gotta hold it to your heart or it's not gonna carry you through the storm."


Be my light to others, child.
God is love, and love is God, and love is light unending, undefeatable.
There is always a sun behind the clouds, even in the worst of storms.
Fear not. I am with you always.
I love you too.



prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


hey, quick update, no one died today, but we're sick and in pain and not too happy with the decisions made today

but we need to forgive. we need to heal.
tomorrow we are going to make a BIG effort towards that as far as art goes, wish us luck
we do need to sleep first. the body desperately needs to heal.

also it rained today. a lot.
so despite our feeling like an utter filthy wreck that still felt absolving. which helped.
(also it is cold today not hot which is also a massive relief)

there has been a lot of heartwrenching beauty in our collective life lately that i havent written about here yet
i should but words dont do it much justice
and there is still so much confusion and pain-wracked fear tied to it
from these poor damaged ones.
we really need to just take a few days, a few weeks, just sit and talk to them,
why havent we done that yet,
i think maybe we're just as scared as they are of facing that stuff, on some level.
but we need to.


i wanted to delete the previous entry but someone wrote that for a reason, it absolutely breaks my heart to see it, but there it is

healing is still happening, bit by bit
biggest good thing about all this: we aren't numb or unplugged
so even if we're walking through hell again, we're at least doing so together

so that's enough to get us through another night.

 


 

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

 

 

@ 02:07 pm

 


(BRUTAL entry, explicitly triggering, totally uncensored.)







 

here's the thing,
HERE'S THE FCKING THING.

I am going to be brutally bloody honest even if I hate myself for it


I have experienced sexual things
I DO NOT LIKE IT.

and if you have not noticed
EVERY SINGLE TIME IT HAPPENS
I dissociate.
I blank out absolutely.
I have NO MEMORY OF ANY INSTANCE, AT ALL.


there have been orgasms but they are literally shit
no matter what they are absolutely stupid and dull
they hurt unbearably and make the body unbearably sick
and I am saying that as someone who has TRIED.
I HAVE REALLY FCKING TRIED to be "normal" and "holy" with this shit
IT HASN'T WORKED.
AND I AM TERRIFIED THAT MEANS THAT I AM BROKEN ON A SPIRITUAL LEVEL
AND THAT IF I AM NOT "FIXED" THEN I AM NOT TRULY COMPLETE OR CORRECT
it is horrible horrible horrible god I want to vomit just thinking about it

AND THAT'S WHERE THE FCKNIG CONFUSION COMES IN!!!!!!!!!!
because I KNOW what i want, I LOVE people, I want to EXPRESS that,
is that selfish? is that abusive?
but this goddamned society and religion tells me "NOPE YOU HAVE TO HAVE SEX IT'S MANDATORY IT'S GOD'S WILL!!!!!!!!!!!"
and so I get fcking terrified and attempt it.
honestly. I have attempted it. I have tried to be fixed.
but. every single fcking time. every. single. time.
it fails. IT FAILS. no matter how people try to justify it afterwards. IT DOESN'T WORK.

case in point.
I adore laurie. okay? for years people have been trying to 'have sex' with her. she always, always, always says no. "I can't feel that, I can't do that," etc. she DOESN’T WANT TO.
and that is accepted. that's FINE.
but then we realize "HEY, WE DON'T ACTUALLY WANT SEX EITHER,"
and then it's either dissolving into panicked scared sobs because god how did we almost fck up,
or,
dissociating into programming and thinking we HAVE to have sex because her refusal just lit up an ALTERNATIVE that we REALLY want, which is "love WITHOUT sex,"
but
BUT
we don’t believe that option is morally correct
WHICH IS BULLSHIT
but there it is.

no matter what, this stupid religious compulsion tells me that at some point I HAVE to "have sex"
WHY????
WHAT ABOUT THE CELIBATES
WHAT ABOUT RELIGIOUSLY DEVOTED PEOPLE WHO NEVER HAVE SEX
WHY THE FCK ARE THEY OKAY AND I'M NOT?????????????
WILL YOU SUDDENLY EXEMPT ME IF I START WEARING A ROMAN COLLAR OR WHAT

I don’t fcking know, I don’t KNOW
I am so fcking DEPRESSED over this shit

I DON’T WANT THIS. WE HAVE PROVEN THIS MULTIPLE TIMES, IN MULTIPLE CONTEXTS
I don't want it physically,
I don’t want it emotionally,
I don't want it logically,
I DON'T FCKING WANT IT SO WHY THE HELL AM I STILL TERRIFIED THAT I HAVE TO HAVE IT AND HAVE TO WANT IT EVEN WHEN I KNOW FULL WELL THAT I NEVER DID AND NEVER WILL



we really need to stop forcing ourselves into these roles out of fear or programming.
it's awful and it is perpetuating self-hate and self-abuse and depression and despair.

xenophon needs to be reset. I don’t think she was ever really reset.
she's too tied to trauma and the whole "parent" thing which only happened BECAUSE OF FORCING
we all admit we were confused as hell at that time
but xenophon needs to be freed from that, she doesn’t deserve this hell,
and quite frankly neither do any of the hosts who keep forcing themselves into trauma "for her sake"
that's not how this shit works
that's not what this is about


laurie has sworn that she will defend our asexuality to the death from now on
no exceptions, no being swayed by doubt, no religious paranoia
no. she MUST forbid EVERY ATTEMPT no matter how "holy" we insist it "has to be"
but you see??? it's COMPULSION.
it's FEAR-BASED COMPULSION.



I could only love someone who is a knife. that’s why I adore laurie. she is UNTOUCHABLE.
its why I have problems around chaos. I will admit that. I have A LOT OF TROUBLE being around him lately, like very very very badly, he's too feminine, too emotional.
infi gets there sometimes but then infi also has tons of teeth and sharp-shadow edges. ze's a daemon, ze can be soft as ever but there is always this danger, this knife edge, that makes me feel safe.
genesis is superbright and that counts as an edge sometimes, but it can go too far in the oppposite direction. but he was abused too, he dissociates and gets confused, we have to be careful.
I miss when chaos wasn't split, when perfect was still part of his psyche, back in the early outspacer days.
but I also DON’T miss that because perfect was psychologically blind and didn’t realize how harmful the stuff he did was.
I guess what I'm saying is that water doesn’t have edges and I wish to god that it did without turning to ice.
crystals. god he HAS that gem right in his heart, shouldn’t that be an edge enough?

I am so fckign sick of softness=violence
julie this is your territory
but you're the most damaged of all of us as far as this goes


you know what, you know what,
this fcking programming tells me "IT HAS TO BE THIS WAY,"
well how about this.
how about I test it out INSIDE and NOT DISSOCIATE?
then I will PROVE TO YOU that your way is BULLSHIT and it DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT WAY.

see, the SLIGHTEST attempt is met with REFUSAL, IMMEDIATELY

your shit is SHIT and it only works if you SHUT OFF OUR FCKING BRAIN
you fcking demons
leave us alone

sorry there are obviously multiple people writing this. all true thuogh.


OH! ABOUT THAT.
ALL YOU FCKING ABUSERS. ALL YOU HACKERS. ALL YOU SEXUAL-PROGRAMMING PEOPLE.
WHY DON’T YOU COME OUT AND TYPE HERE, HUH???????
DEFEND YOUR FCKING POSITION????

OH THAT’S RIGHT, YOU CAN'T
BECAUSE YOURE MADE OF PROGRAMMING AND OBLIGATORY BEHAVIOR
YOU'RE NOTHING BUT BLIND ROBOTIC IMITATION AND COMPULSION
YOU DON'T FCKING EXIST


that's where jay lives, right at the heart of this issue, right where we realize what we DO want and need
the topic we have discussed a thousand times.
love, real love, the kind that's utterly untouched by this sexual shit, he KNOWS what it is, and we have it,
we're just so damn scared that it's "inherently sexual" because it's intimate,
which is the biggest fear.
it's this horrible creeping paranoia that at some point, sex is GOING to happen BECAUSE we're close.
I am so fcking sick of that
I am so sick
that’s why I need edges, that’s why I need blood,
hackers CANNOT WORK when blood is around, blood is SACRED,
here's a message to all fronting people:
if there is a hacker around, if a hacker is trying to hurt you,
don’t even call for laurie, she gets distraught and they will try to hurt her,
call for a RETRIBUTOR.
even better, find a way to cause pain to the body in a way that is SHARP and SAFE
if there is blood, the hackers WILL LEAVE!!!!!!!!!!
and you will be safe
this is why relationships upstairs NEED PAIN
this is why heart connections are SO PAINFUL
because it is SAFE. and it is REAL. and it is GENUINE.
god we KNOW what we want and need and HAVE, why the hell do these outside people keep insisting otherwise



this shit is TERRIFYING.
HOW THE FCK COULD YOU EVER LIE TO YOURSELF ABOUT "WANTING THIS"
WHEN THE SLIGHTEST REMINDER SENDS YOU INTO A PANICKED BREAKDOWN?????
”I can't cry," you say, well then what the fck are you doing now????
YOU ARE IN TEARS FROM HOW FCKING FRIGHTENED YOU ARE RIGHT NOW KID
WHOEVER THE HELL TELLS YOU YOU "WANT THIS" IS A FCKING IMBECILE

stop looking at it. STOP LOOKING AT IT.
TO HELL WITH "EDUCATING YOURSELF" THIS IS ALL FEAR-BASED

you are just desperately trying to find support for YOU being okay.
you are looking through these articles and pages trying to find a chink in the armor, a break in the chain,
trying to find something that will make their entire argument collapse in on itself,
to justify YOUR existence and mean that YOU are not flawed or unholy in being what you are,
but you are so damn scared of being wrong in that,
you are so damn scared of being an 'evil heart' or a 'blasphemer' in so much as suggesting that it's okay to be asexual, to be what you are,
that you are not accepting any arguments in your favor, out of moral paranoia.
and yet you cannot accept any arguments to the contrary either, because you KNOW the fear and pain and disgust and shame and terror that accompanies them, whenever you try to force yourself into them, without fail.
you are running in circles, and your feet are bloodied on the rocks.
get out of their loop, it is only going to kill you.



I am very afraid that introjects in our System are still a real thing.
I don't even like saying they're part of the "System," because they're NOT. we need a better term.
but they exist. and they're awful and toxic.
BUT, it at least allows us to do internal healing work where it would be impossible to outside.
and it helps exaggerate just what terrifies us about those people, so we can evaluate that.
its just so so so sad to see an internal abusive reflection inside, of someone outside, who we experienced as abusive or otherwise traumatically triggering/ aggravating, but who may not have consciously realized that, or who may have been unable to accept that.

but we have introjects of the mother, the grandmother, and the two people from utah.
that is confirmed and I kept wondering why we kept getting sick, nauseous, why we kept getting confused with memories, why we had no idea what was real or not, we didn’t know these people, etc.,
its because the problematic behavior was being perpetuated inside, and we were too scared to face it.
well now we know. and we have to face it.
its terrifying still, but we have to face it
and I KNOW it can be healed. I KNOW that one day, the introjects WILL BE GONE.
but patience is key. we need to be patient. we need to forgive ourselves. this is fragile work. but we can do it.


would you believe we never really recovered from the static incident?
you know. we found something online. from people we knew. and we were in sick shock for WEEKS.
years actually, we're still reeling, still having trouble coping,
why?
"its their decision not yours"
yeah but they HID THAT and did SO MUCH behind our backs,
they never told us they KNEW we were unsafe with that,
but of course that’s WHY they never told you, they KNEW you would not be able to be around them once you knew.
and that’s so sad but that’s how it is.
god but I don’t want to hate people. I don’t want to hate anyone.
the hate just comes from fear. fear of violation, of forced infliction. fear of "THEY did that so now YOU have to!!!"
boundary problems. moral paranoia.
god I want to throw up and sob



I am so fcking sorry.
this is all so goddamn confusing

what am I even trying to say.


I just came across a quote.

"I dealt with a significant amount of abuse in my childhood as well and being aware has absolutely been the biggest part of getting past that for me. Being able to read studies in psychology that are relevant to my childhood, it takes a bit to be able to apply any of it to your life. It can be even harder to explore the possibility that many of your character traits come from your experiences with abuse, and difficult sorting out which parts of you are truly YOU and which parts are chemical/emotional responses your body makes FOR you."

that's really important. hormones are shit.
but they can be manipulated, they can be controlled. we just have to do more on our side of the fight.
but it's sad because when they're fcked up, your reactions get fcked up.

"Within minutes of exposure to a traumatic event there is an increase in the level of endorphins in the brain. During the time of the trauma, endorphin levels remain elevated and help numb the emotional and physical pain of the trauma. However, after the trauma is over, endorphin levels gradually decrease and this may lead to a period of endorphin withdrawal that can last from hours to days…"

see what I mean

god I am so nauseous I shouldn’t be typing about this or reading about this
why the hell do I keep reading about this

I'm ashamed. I'm fcking ashamed of the fact that I've endured so much shit, a lot of it by my own confused misinformed doing, because I am absolutely fcking paranoid of "not being good" and yet EVERY DAMN THING they tell me to do to "be good" feels self-destructive
the two main things are,
"don’t eat," and "have sex"
which is fcking horrible
I don’t eat a lot the way it is, now these damn voices are telling me FAST SOME MORE
and I end up purging and sick and dizzy and weak,
then the same fcking voices tell me "sex is the road to true enlightenment!!!!! you need sexual healing!!!!" etc etc etc and I want to STRANGLE SOMEONE because DAMN IT THAT ISN'T WHAT I FCKING NEED

but damn it I know what I need.
beneath all that surface-level shit I KNOW what I really need
and the bottom line is that I need to STOP LISTENING TO THIS OUTSIDE SHIT
BECAUSE I ALREADY FIGURED IT OUT
AND THEIR BABBLING IS JUST CONFUSING THE HELL OUT OF ME.


"know thyself" they say, and he said, and I know that's the main thing,
so I really have to stop thinking others know better than I do, as far as internal honesty is concerned.
there's so much out there trying to screw me up. I really need to be careful.

these entries too, are too tangled. I apologize. but they do help find truer things. they are signposts too.
and the frustration over misleading teachings is legitimate and I am thankful for that.
but pride, and this sort of too-white feeling, is just as lethal.
stop typing.

 
 

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


@11:02 PM




I'm sorry guys. This is Cannon. There's been another massive existential System shakeup and frankly I'm probably not going to update here for a long while, or at least until this is settled.

There's too much problematic stuff still entrenched in our function, that really needs to go. Problem is, a lot of it we've accepted as "normal" or we've even grown to love. It has to go. No exceptions. No mercy either. Which is probably why I'm back up front.

Laurie says I can't commit suicide, if for no other reason than for her sake. I said then what the heck do I do with this daily life. We don't know. We've gotta try though. I suppose it's all we can do. No giving up, no surrender.

I've been crying for the past hour, somewhere between choking and screaming. My legs are bleeding. I want to sleep forever.

Again, I'm sorry. I know this feels cruel but really we NEED to purge the ranks and fix what's been corrupted, in one way or another. That's why we keep having these System resets, apparently. People are sensing that something is rotten in Denmark so they're just razing the whole place, but then they're rebuilding it the same way. That's not going to work anymore.

I don't know what the hell to do. Not for the most part. This existential mess I'm talking about... well, it's religious. And it's sexual. And it's rather seriously freaking traumatic, at the moment. That should say enough.
I don't know how to cope, personally. Maybe we ALL need to die in order to "cope" with this, I don't even know anymore. I really have no idea what to do. But I just hope it's too soon. I'm going to give it a few days, at least. Hope to God, or whatever God really is, that this somehow ends in a way that won't annihilate us and turn us into our worst fear-- a fear which were now being told is inevitable, and desirable. So it sucks, it really does.

I'm tired. I'm very tired, and now I'm so damn shook up that I don't even want to die because now I don't know what the hell is waiting for me after that. I'm afraid it's hell forever now. And the worst part is that it can easily NOT be hell, if I just "stop resisting" and "learn to like it."
Basically, there's no place for asexuals in heaven.

I really hope that's not true. I really hope it's not true. But right now I actually want to just sob because life feels utterly devoid of hope right now, I've lost all direction in life, what the hell do I do, where the hell do I go, I have no idea.

Maybe I'll end up dead, who knows. Right now the System says I need to be the main person because I'm "protecting" us from this existential dread. I'm a fighter who won't give in to that. But... the fear is that we have to. The fear is that we cannot be what we desperately want to be, because it really is morally wrong, so to speak.
God I don't even know. I'm sorry.

Bottom line is, we're trying to restructure headspace from the bottom up. We have a lot of questions that need to be answered, and a lot of anger over things that have been allowed to continue over the years and should NOT have been allowed to continue.
Things will not, or at least SHOULD NEVER be the way they were before this entry. A lot NEEDS to change.
A few people aren't going to be coming back, no matter how difficult that may be. They can't. It's toxic. If they want to come back, they have to come back differently. Simple as that.

Good night. My neck hurts from the knives and I'm just exhausted.

 







 

 

 

 


june 9 2015

Jun. 9th, 2015 11:17 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)


 

I am so sick of hacks.

the entire body hurts. I am so sick.
I want to throw up and vomit forever. it feels like I was punched in the stomach. it's an awful sick-deep feeling. like something is wrong. like someone just jammed all this dead fat or plastic wax in there. just empty, dead, hollow hard white shit. it's terrifying and it hurts and it makes me so so so so so sick

sugar and razor atoned for it, they told the fronter "you're not gonna fcking run"

garrison is sad over this?? he said these hacks are so weird because they happen in less than two minutes and they aren't even conscious. they are semi-obligatory, mostly now they are IMITATIVE. they are completely "selfless" in the idea of "I must imitate that person. I must do this FOR THEM, because they did it." it's really fcking horrible and bizarre
so it's half obligation, but mostly mirroring.
it's stupid as hell

we're very sick
we tried to go to our hormone appointment this morning but the turnpike was shut down and we got stuck in deadlock traffic for 90+ minutes
so we got there late and then they couldn't take us so we had to leave
the father drove us, he was so upset about everything, we felt horrible
plus he's having so much trouble at his workplace, there's a big company building a warehouse right behind his garage, it's flooding and collapsing the hills and destroying streets and the county commissioners are pissed and he answered like 20 phone calls while we were on the road.
but
"i" was trying to pray on the turnpike, "please get us there," "mary undoer of knots," etc.
and it was terrifying, terrifying
because every time I tried to pray to a christian figure their mental image would say "no, we're not going to help you," when I asked why, "because we hate you"
"because you're trans and we don't want you to be trans and we hate you"
"because you're already a whore"
I knew they were demons, no good holy person would talk like that
I told them that and they got pissed and violent
the one pretending to be mary tried to strangle me
it was all very disturbing
I tried asking quan yin, although I was scared she would demand worship and slavery too, but she didn't? she said she'd help. and what she said she'd do, happened.
so I don't know if that was legit or not but she at least was nice and listened and didn't spit at me and didn't demand I "pay her back" in blood or something similar just for "daring to ask."
I said I am NOT comfortable with worshiping ANYTHING, there's too much trauma tied to that, I absolutely cannot do that. she said that's fine, she just asked for reverence and respect, I said I could easily do that. as long as I wasn't yoked-in for life by the neck, just for praying to her once.

this spiritual stuff is so existentially terrifying, it's so bad lately

I was sitting in a car for upwards of 8 hours today but here I am sitting down again now
I shouldn't be but the leg is bleeding and I'm sad and tired and standing is just going to give me bad posture at this point.
we really should go walk in the kitchen later, maybe, for an hour. I don't know.


we're still at one of those points where "hatred for headspace" is permeating EVERYTHING.
jewel doesn't quite hate it, but she is utterly fed up with it and really doesn't like associating with it, because LO AND BEHOLD the "gap" is back, she can't work on the League while headspace is around, and so she's not happy.
jessica and christina still hate the system and want it dead, whatever that means for them they don't care, I don't think they're even thinking about that future.

oh on that note. we pinpointed the whole "lilac killer girl" person they ARE christina marie!!
the girl WE've been calling "christina" lately, the one in the chapel with the third eye, two nights ago she chose the name PATRICIA instead, so.
the REAL "christina marie" IS THE ONE WHO CAUSED THE LOCKOUT IN 2013. she STILL has the mindset of "dear god please kill everyone in headspace thank you!! <3" which is really scary but that's it. she hates us in a "good christian" way, basically "they're corrupt and it would be better for everyone if they just stopped existing" so she does not care about us at all.
she's definitely tar-infested to an extent. she has the hidden malevolent edge, we've seen it.

chaos is currently going by the name serenity. yes, really. ze's been considering it for a while and about 3, 4 days ago ze said flat-out to use that name for zir instead, whenever possible.
I don't know if we ever said, ze was actually using "mare serenitatis" as a pseudo-name for months before now. "sea of serenity." so no one's really surprised in here.


jeremiah found out something important about david today. you know how david is always crying "mommy help" when he's scared? but every time a "mother figure" or woman shows up he gets scared, cowers, and says "no, no?"
well. that is because he apparently sees the word "mommy" as referring to a PERSON, gender irrelevant, who is SAFE and PROTECTIVE and will keep him shielded from harm. he said "mommy help" is "what you say when you want help," NOT a call for a specific mother figure.
he was always confused over the whole "mother" concept anyway, i was really baffled when he started asking for "mommy" to be honest. it just happened. but i think that's internalized imitation too. "little children cry for their mothers when they are scared!" so it just happened, because it "had to."
why the hell can't we seem to fully reprogram our mind to STOP IMITATING PEOPLE LIKE THAT
IT'S TOXIC

we do have the beginning hints OF a "mother figure" up here, which again doesn't surprise me, because when we started watching steven universe, rose quartz was like the ideal for it. i wouldn't say she had "outspacer" vibes, but she still was resonating as a concept. so. there is a vague person in the BLACK spectrum right now who looks similar to rose quartz, but with this appearance vibe? and the traditional black sparkle color of course. also she's HUGE like she lives in floatspace, she's more concept than person and might sttay that way?
i'm just worried about her because black energy is still dangerous and we do not want our first possible mother figure ever getting corrupted in any way


i'm sorry
this is like the fifth candle i forgot i lit and it spilled all over this computer
one day its going to just break and then i'' ll really have no excuse. i'll have to do all my work on paper again and no more fcking hprrible intetrnet corruption either

i've been dissociating so badly and so severely lately it's scary

that;s it for this entry i'm fed up with this shit for now. i'm sorry.
iwa tnt to just forget all ovfthis exists and do something GOOD for once
i forget what its like to be happy
oi forgethe what its like the be happyp

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)
 

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS

KNIFE RAZOR MULBERRY SUGAR ALGORITH
CANNON OVERLOAD JEMMA CHOCOLOCO JEWEL


(post-entry note from Jay: I'm uploading this three days later but no one labeled their speech well so I apologize profusely if any sentences are misattributed. I've done the absolute best I can with this.)



All right. Oh, is it recording? I'm sorry, I didn't know it--



I have no idea how to do this.

The AP is getting confused. Give it time to record what we're saying first.

Are there mistranslation issues?

Always. It can only do so much, translating from thought speech into words. Written words.

Hm. Well, it is worth the effort, to see if we can do this alone.

Didn’t you say you wanted music on?

To appease the creative ones, yes. They're rather impatient that we're doing this instead of writing music anyway.

I can wait, you guys give it a try. Just don't stay up ALL night I guess.

That's what I want to start at. I have emotional investment in this. WHY is--

Why what?

Why are so many fronters depressed about dealing with headspace? I mean, like that one, the young ones..

They don't want to be depressed. Their role is separate than ours. So, they get depressed when we show up because they don't want to be involved in this stuff. Simple as that.

You're the protector of innocence, you should know.

That's why. I should know. And I do. If there's one thing I've noticed about the kids in the System, on the outside that is, it's that they don't want to lose their innocence "again." So she's impatient with us because she doesn't want… it's not that she doesn't want us to exist, I don't think. It's more like… she doesn't want the reason we exist to exist.

We come out for a reason, and she doesn't want to think about that.

Right. Thanks.

Not a problem.

So… Cannon?

Hmh?

Did you… you said you had an investment in this.

Music.

Oh, that's right, sorry. Can we pause this?

Momentarily, sure. Should we get Jewel to do that?

No, don't get her involved in this.

I think she's hanging around anyway.

Is she? Jewel, are we getting in your way?

No, it's just surreal to see this typing up on my screen! I wanna write stuff and I've got LOT of League things to do as always but this is cool too. Just you're right. I get kind of miffed about the whole "upstairs" thing because it's so moody.

That's what I want to talk about. The "moodiness." There's a REASON why we're so "moody" and it's not a good one. But it's a reasonable one.

Still, I wanna live without it. So don't take long.

"Kid," we've got to take as long as we need to, if we don't deal with this it won't go away.

Are you absolutely sure? I mean I'M fine.

Sure you're fine, you're a kid. The kids weren't allowed to be touched.

…Are you sure you're Cannon?

I'm an older Cannon. It's been a while since I was out, you know. 2009. I've changed since then, I had time enough to dissolve and die and whatever else happened to me. Now I'm rooted inside and life is different, you know? So I'm different.

You tried to kill us. You DID kill us.

Yeah, I'm really ticked off about that by the way.

I got off scot-free. No hard feelings.

Algorith.

Just joking around, Sugar. I don't got no hard feelings personally. But the whole thing is a blur.

Everything is a blur, is anyone else ticked off about that too?

Yes.

I'm profoundly worried about it.

Where's Razor?

Over there.

Jewel, why are you asking about Razor?

She's cool. I mean I know about you guys and she strikes me as pretty cool, I dunno. I guess I've got a fondness for creatures like her.

Edgy?

Psycho?

She's not 'psycho,' Algorith, that’s the concern we're having today actually. Razor, are you all right?

They ruined my knives. They ruined my razors. They're not holy anymore.

Since when did you care about your weapons being 'holy?'

Since always. Since I knew what they were. Atonement. Not you.

Excuse me?

Sugar, don't slip.

You're not an Atoner. You joined us later. You showed up to kill the bad ones. The hackers. I didn't.

You showed up rather differently, Razor.

I wasn't myself then, you know. All I know is this. The cutting things. And they ruined them.

They did not. They cannot change this for you.

…But they make it hard. They make it so it's not happy anymore. It's not art. It's 'business.'

…Sorry.

For slipping?

Yeah. I guess I'm still unstable on the inside.

You've always been unstable, Sugar, that I have realized. I can't help but feel it's related to your anchor.

Yeah, can we talk about that at long last? We're in here for a reason. The hackers are screwing things up. They're ruining atonement, they're not apologizing for their actions--

Hackers never apologize.

I mean they're not feeling sorry for what they've done.

Did they ever?

Geez, just-- just listen. Hackers. The NEW kind. They're not apologizing for what they're doing to the body when it's OUR body, and they KNOW it, don't they?

…Is that the question?

Is it?

What about Jemma? You brought the girl in here, she hasn't said a word.

She's quiet. I don't think she's used to operating on the inside yet either. At least, without her daemon around.

Yeaaah, don't bring him in here.

I don't have the right to.

There's a really massive brain fog around you guys, just saying.

I've noticed. It's making conversation rather difficult.

Is that just because of time gaps, or do we not have enough of a presence in here to talk yet?

Could be people blocking us out.

Hence the topic for the night. Hackers and their indifference towards everyone else in the System.

"Else?" Mul, I don't think anyone here considers them part of the System.

True, that is true.



So. Tonight. Let's just… take this slow. I'm not used to this A.P. thing either, that's confusing.

Yes, it is.

So hackers. Jemma decided to atone tonight because no one's been doing so and she wouldn't stand for it?

I had to push through apathy to do it. No one cares.

WE care.

No one in the body cares obviously. They said my emotions were fake. I was upset and I was sad too, but they said that there wasn't a problem? Without saying anything. It's more of a… a thick white distance. You know the, Knife you saw the fake snow that's around at Christmas?

Yes.

It's like that. Big, thick white gauzy blocks between me and them. Between my emotions and their feeling them. Or the body feeling them. I don't know. They just won't let me feel anything, there's this unspoken conviction or belief in them that "they're doing nothing wrong."

That is a LIE.

I know, but that's the problem. They DON’T care.

Do they feel nothing?

They do. I just…

They feel no guilt.

Jessica earlier labeled herself a "psychopath" with pride. She feels no regret, no empathy, and she's rather smug about it. That shows you what sort of people we're dealing with, Knife.

…But the children.



They're hurting the children.

Are they?

Aren't they? The children get the aftereffects of this, don't they? Unless Jeremiah…

I think they shut off the whole thing. They didn't want to be caught anymore so they shut off the whole entire thing, no one gets aftereffects at all because they "cancelled" those or something.

How do you know all this?

I'm tied to this. I'm a previous Host, or what you call it. I'm the most strongly tied to this sort of direct abuse because I was alive when this hell started being "justified" on the outside. So seeing that hell on the INSIDE is really getting me mad.

It would.

Yeah, it is. And I'm upset, too, because I don't know what to do about it.

I'm depressed.

We all are.

That's making it hard to fight back.

That might be part of the fog.

Probably. Fog is numbness, and that sounds like that's what we're dealing with.

Why don't they realize the harm of their actions?

Because to them there IS no harm. "It's not hurting anyone!" That's the Tumblr idiocy we internalized and it's why I'm one of the ones that hate that website. All these hedonistic teenyboppers running around acting like anything that "feels good" IS good. And we internalized that stupid mindset EVEN IF it wasn't true for us. Because we "had to."

That's a big topic slated for discussion, by the way.

Which one?

The internalization, and how that deals with alters, or headvoices. Survival and logic. We're born in order to protect our life in some way, so in some cases, 'evil' alters are created because they, for whatever reason, offer the most chance of 'survival' in that situation.

That's messed up.

I know it is, but it appears to be what's happening.

So we've got abusive alters because the System decided that THEY'D keep us alive??

Think about it, Sugar. If you have an alter who is incapable of feeling guilt, or shame, or regret, then it prevents us from killing ourselves over every humiliating thing we suffer. I suppose after so long of being hacked, especially with this constant bombardment of messages saying "you must like this, you must want this, your soul requires it, the world demands it, you cannot run from it, running is wrong," et cetera. There are a bunch of conflicting mindsets about this.

What's conflicting?

Our mindsets versus theirs. We know what we need, what we really want, et cetera. The 'world' does not. Yet we're stuck living in it, outside at least, and that's where these hacker fronters are coming into being-- to survive.

That's suicide though!! What kind of survival is it if it's killing us inside??

It's not killing them, though. They don't care at all. That's the thing.

Rrrrrgh!

Sugar don't lose your hair.

I'm sorry I'm just-- my role's been such a mess since I showed up here because I don't know HOW to protect anyone.

You're protecting Laurie, aren't you?

No. …No, I… I don't know how. I'm scared.

Of what?

Of the things that go after her. They're pure Plague, Algorith. I'm close enough to the White. I don't want them eating me from the inside out, after I've seen what they've done to the Cores in the past.

Hosts. Cores now applies to the Jewel bloodline only, and they're rather impervious.

Well that's good. But I…

You're scared of being corrupted?

We all are, Algorith?

…I guess I can't blame you.

Aren't you?

Hey, I didn't die in the massacre, I figure Cannon had to have some reason for missing me.

I didn't find you.

Well, that's reason enough.

But you realize I was ONLY killing you people because at the time I was CONVINCED you were ALL unsalvageably corrupted by the Tar and the Plague, right? I saw what 'we' were going through at that time, and how NO ONE was doing anything about it, at least not in my eyes, and so I took matters into my own hands. I had had it. There was one too many hacks, and you just LET it happen, and I thought "to hell with all of it. Five years after I died and this is still happening. To hell with this, I'm ending it." So I tried.

Weren't you with Jessica, though? Isn't she a hacker?

Listen, I don't know what I was doing then, whoever she was she was hellbent on killing you too. I figured it was for the same reason.

Was it Jessica, though, or was it Jezebel?

Probably Jezebel. Jessica doesn't exist on the inside.

Well there you have it.

Still.

Still what?

Still I can't believe this is still happening. The hacks.

Well now we know why. People don't care.

Hi Overload.

Hi.

You just stopping by or are you sticking around?

Either. This stuff is getting overwhelming anyway so it doesn't matter.

Is it?

Listen, what did we come in here to discuss tonight? Let's stop rambling and type about it.

The hackers. There are people who don't care.

Jasmine.

Yes. And Jessica, maybe.

And "the pagan," whoever she is.

That's Jasmine.

Is it?

Yeah. She got her name over the past week.

Is Jennifer a hacker?

No. But she paves the way for them.



Hey-- I thought I told you not to bring him in here.

I didn't. He just hangs around me.

Listen it doesn't matter if Chocoloco's around or not, he won't harm anyone.

It's not that, he feels scary.

Daemons do, from what I've heard.

You're unfazed by this?

Listen, I probably have a "daemon" myself, from what I've heard. I'm dark enough not to care. I've got enough edges to handle something like that in the room. Hackers. They aren't atoning and they don't care and they are now starting to justify their actions with such conviction that the subconscious is jumping on them.

What is their main conviction?

It's tied to the "logic" predisposition I mentioned earlier, Knife. At some point, the moral fear of being "unholy" trumped all sense of self-preservation.

Jessica doesn't seem to care a bit about being 'unholy,' she revels in it.

So I've noticed. But she isn't a sexual hacker, either. She's a body abuser, but that's it.

So Jasmine's the other sort?

Yes.

I'm gonna kill her.

Please do.

Not now, we need to discuss this.

I didn’t say I was going after her now, Knife. It's late and I'd have to find her. That sort of thing takes time.

I'll find her for you. Tomorrow, maybe.

There's a strong self-preservation drive around her.

What the hell?? I thought you just told me it doesn't care!!

It cares when it's "main fronter" is being threatened, the person who is currently ensuring that we "survive" according to what has been dictated as "correct behavior."

Man. …It's infuriating, all of it, it's nonsense.



So what do we do, Mulberry?

Honestly Knife I don't know. Reprogram the subconscious.

Which means…? What's the belief we need to program out?

That sex is mandatory for survival. This body is not only traumatized by it, but it does not want it by a biological standpoint either. Forgive me for this language, I'm sorry. But these fronters, they have apparently internalized the "spiritual messages" from outside that sex is an inherent quality of the spirit, and have mangled that thought to the point where they believe that if they DON'T have sex, then they are morally corrupt, and therefore not a true soul, et cetera.

What the hell.

It's complicated, I know.

Wasn't Jay working on this? Fixing it?

Jay is impervious to this, just as the Jewel Cores are. I've realized this.

So… do we let him out, or?

No. That fails to work, he gets switched out.

Oh come on.

I can try. From now on I can try, if they do.

Jemma we are not cut out for that sort of work. It is not our job.

Then whose is it, Chocoloco? If Jay and his daemon can't do it, if WE can't do it as retributors and atoners and mourners… then who can do it? Those hackers are blocking everyone.



I don't know.

Is this a problem we can even solve tonight?

Not in stream-of-consciousness mode we can't. Leave it to Jay and give him the data, see if he and Laurie can figure things out. He's got enough data to do it I'm sure.

I thought you said he switched out with this sort of thing.

Not if he's unattached to it. Only if he's in the body does he get switched out, he literally can't handle that or he dies, just like Laurie. He can handle this as a concept, he's completely detached from the side of this that we see.

So that's why they were hacking him so easily…

Hacking through him. Past him. Jay is untouched, that I see. He's pure, that's HIS function. Other ones aren't. There's the one that looks just like him and HE'S a whore at this point, he's someone we should watch out for.

He's all programming, I've heard?

You've heard of him?

I've seen him, firsthand. Remember when I first appeared here, "Jay" was the one I was atoning for. As it turns out there were many going by that name, then and now.

Which is why we're all looking for our own names lately, no exceptions.

Right. But back then… it was clear that there were more forces at work, when it was outlined to me. I'm sorry, it is terribly hard to talk in here.

Thank you, I was thinking the same thing.

Yeah, and you have a stronger anchor than all of us combined, probably.

Maybe, but you guys are all as real as me.

The fronters doubt it..

Tell them to bugger off.

Is that why we can't stop them either, Mulberry? They are outright rejecting our existence.

The hacker fronters call emotions "stupid" and they call us the same, yes.

All emotions except fake drama, that is.

They don't feel anything though. I can tell you that. It's just malice and pride.

So why are they doing this to us? To harm us?

Perhaps partly. These are more dangerous because their main motivation is blind obedience. It's hard to change a program when it's being reinforced by the outside, quite strongly.

Hm.

But we know better. That is our saving grace. WE know better. We just have to step back out front more often.

Good luck with that, it's easier said than done lately.

Better to have hope than to have nothing, though.

Eh, I guess you're right.

Knife should we write down the thing about the blood?

How do you know about the blood?

I'm looking at stuff. Trying to skim through your guys' memories and stuff to help you talk about it a little, if you need to. I can see stuff clearly a lot.

Is that why we can't talk in here? You're overshadowing us?

Maybe, sorry.

It probably is. Don't do that again, okay? This is difficult enough as it is.

Yeah but actually this is really impoirtant! I'M here and so are you!



You're right. That is significant.

So. Although I'm on the outside and you're on the inside this is still working. Which is really cool. And I'm looking at your memory like a movie and Knife was trying to drink the blood out of the washcloth but he had to spit it out because it tasted wrong or something.

I realized it was truly not meant to be eaten. It was bled out for a reason.

Why do you do the eating-blood thing anyway?

It is a symbolic thing, I suppose? Jay feels like he should have insight into it, he is very closely tied to this sot of sentiment…

Jay "feels?"

Jay is always around for us, all of us. He's the White core so his consciousness is tied to us all, even if he isn't around physically.

Is it easier for him to exist that way then?

Perhaps?

Probably, from what it says here.

Mulberry, you got the books?

Some books! Just a few. Enough to help. But Jay is notoriously noncorporeal whenever he gets the chance. It's easier for him to exist that way, yes.

Huh.

And I am aware that this 'ingestion' topic, especially of blood, has been rolling around in the collective mind lately. Jay is working on this topic and that data is accessible to me, to any of us really, as we are involved in this same agenda.

The atonement?

Retribution, yes, atonement, all of it. Jay carries aspects of it that none of us do.

Jay carries aspects of it that aren't quite "atonement," if you know what I mean. He stays innocent so he doesn't get 'punished.' But he carries the blood in his own way. So did I.

You carried the graves, didn't you? I heard of those.

Yes. All 42 of them, we counted. I've still got them. It's surreal.



Guys, perhaps we should close this up.

Already?

We aren't quite getting anywhere, are we? There is too much to discuss and we're rather unorganized for any conversation to happen.

That is true…

I am sorry. I insisted on a conversation and I wasn't quite sure what would happen, or if we would be able to have one at all.

No, it's all right, I'm glad we gave this a shot.

So am I.

Jemma, you didn't say much, and you're probably the main reason we're in here.

I know. I'm just sad and upset, it feels like talking won't do much to solve it. I think Mulberry Delta's right; we should just pass this information along to someone who can do something about it. Work through it.

Yeah, Central handles this better than we do…

We are not cut out for the complicated reasoning, as it were. Our job is rather… cut-and-dry.

He he he.

Haha, good one.

I was hoping that would get a laugh out of her.

Thank you Knife.

You're welcome, Razor.

Welp, I think that's about it then.

Who are you to say when we're done??

It feels done. I'll give this to Jay, tell him about it. Main concerns are the moral-less hackers, the subconscious 'logic' beliefs keeping them out, Mulberry?

Yes.

Okay, uh… basically figure out WHO is doing this stuff to you guys, WHY they're being ALLOWED to do that, even if it's a purely subconscious allowance, what with the logic things and all that… uh, figure out WHY they believe what they're doing is okay?

Well we know that, and it's not so much an "it's okay" thing so much as it's just a programming thing.

What's the difference?

Programming is deaf and dumb really. It doesn't care at all, for good or ill. It just… does things. It follows the script. If the script says kill someone, if the script says screw up someone's life big-time, they'll do it, without any remorse or second-guessing OR enjoyment, or guilt either, because "it's in the script! It's what I was told to do."

That's a very worrisome mindset.

It is. But I've been dealing with this mess with college, and you all have since you showed up too, I can see. It's all people saying "this is normal!" when even if it IS, it SHOULDN'T BE. And that's the core of the problem, right Overload?

I'm only in here because the stuff that they're doing to you causes the stuff that triggers ME. I really freaking hate it, and if there's anything I can do to stop them doing that stuff, then I will.

I daresay we all know your triggers?

Look in your book, they're in there probably. Noises, feelings, overload. Sensory hell. And SO MUCH of it is tied to YOU guys and your battles. It gets WORSE after hacks, so much worse I want to actually freaking DIE.



So yeah, I wanna help if I can. Just to get this freaking horrible stress to stop, if nothing else.

Thank you. I appreciate that well enough.

Good. Now I'm outta here 'cause like Jewel said, it feels like we're done and besides this robe feels horrible and I think we just need to dissociate and calm down for a while. See ya.

I don't know if 'dissociating' is key here?

Probably 'unplugging' from the stress is, if that's what they call it. Hence the music?

I am so sorry, I never put it on…

That's fine, I think this worked out well enough anyways.

It did. So! We're done here? Any last words or whatever? Jemma?

What?

You got us in here, you stood up to someone and got atonement happening. You tried to feel something in the face of those bastards. I'm proud of you for that, for what it's worth. There's too few people up here who can still do that, I think.

Like you?

Like always me. I was born from rage about this. I'm not gonna lose it. Sugar you might be sharing my anchor, maybe that's why you're slipping?

No, I'm more of a Protector. Of the innocent. The untouched.

Have you been doing that though?



Sorry, I don't mean to condemn you or anything, I'm just saying maybe you should do that more actively for it to switch over? Otherwise we're just sharing the same job and no offense, but I think I have more weight in this than you. Seniority. Sorry.

No, don't apologize, that's a good idea. …I'm sure there are untouched ones in here.

Man, that's sad.

There's always Laurie. She needs protection more than any of us, I daresay.

Laurie?

She's our Chastity Protector.

I've seen how Jay panics whenever she shows the slightest hint of weakness or hesitation. Confusion, especially. She's as fragile as he is, in her own way. The strong ones always are.

An oxymoron, Knife?

Not quite. It seems the ones like her and Jay are especially targeted by the Tar and Plague. They're fragile because they are so strong, they… they doubt themselves.

Sounds like they need a different kind of strength.

Additional strength. Yes.

Do you have a headache, man?

Yes, and I apologize. Mulberry, do close this up. I feel we have talked enough and I do not want to end this on a negative note.

Yeah, you look stressed as hell.

Aha, I am sorry. It is just… overwhelming.

That's what I said!

Where is she?

Hell if I know.

Somewhere we should be. Cannon, can you close this?

Me? Why?

Because you have the most say in this. As a previous Core. Host.

Both, in my time. And sure I'll close it up. Jewel are you around?

…Did she actually leave?

Maybe that's where the headache's coming from, man, it all went to you.

Why me? I don't have the must pull in this.

Maybe you do. Leader of the Retributors and all.



Really Knife, you're too humble. I'll close this up for you. But it's going to take a bit before that stress goes away if I remember it right.

I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.

Yeah but your sister's already worrying.

Is she?

…What did you do to him?

Nothing, nothing Razor. It's just stress.

Close this up.

Well, there's the final say.

About time though.

Isn't that a thing for Xangas?

Must be an initiation process.

You seem a little lighter than you were when we first got in here, Cannon.

I feel a LOT lighter. It's just… nice to be alive again. To feel alive, really.

…The fog's lifting, Cannon.

Yeah, well, too late now. Oh. Wait, that's why?

What?

I'm splinching with Hatchet.

You're what?

Co-fronting. They're bleeding into each other. The body must be trying to get another social fronter out to-- oh, there goes our link.

All right, last semi-coherent sentence, everyone follow up on this, Jewel do what you said you would, if I have closing rights for this then close this now. Thank you.


12:11 AM may 24th 2015

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

the whole body hurts.




I've found a problem

"we haven't suffered enough yet"

there's a part of us that is "totally fine" with being abused
it doesn't feel, it doesn't really "get" what is happening to the body, it's so abstracted that of COURSE it's going to be "okay with" abuse because it doesn't actually EXPERIENCE it
which is the problem
"if I can view it as non-abusive, so can you! and we should be fine."
:)

problem is there's a seven year old girl in the system who knows what rape is like and YOU KEEP TELLING HER TO JUST GRIN AND BEAR IT

FCK YOU (YEAH I'M BACK)
ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS PERSON IS IN THE SYSTEM????!!!

WHO ARE THEY

We don't know, we can't pinpoint them.

most of the sexual abuse alters are mostly noncorporeal because they don't exist outside of that context very well, or at all
the bad ones aren't allowed to exist outside of that context I don’t think



but the mother keeps telling us "you're faking" "you're making this up" "you're doing this for attention"
no one thinks we're real and no one will acknowledge that these things hurt sometimes?

so someone has got the idea
the FCKING AWFUL IDEA
to force more trauma, because "maybe if I suffer badly enough someone will SEE it and say 'yes, that is suffering,' and we won't have to doubt our own pain anymore."
which is dumb
IT'S REALLY FCKING STUPID
which part?


see the problem is there's also an old old teaching that "pain is dumb!" or stupid. sorry for using ableist language we don't like it either but that is the word in the "teaching." the bad teaching. false. lies.

it's the same thing that is the roots behind all the "social fronters" who exist to be "normal"

we are really beginning to despise the word "normal"

"normal" means
we don't exist.
that's the brokenhearted bottom line

"normal" means you eat the food that makes you sick and don't complain
"normal" means you ignore sensory overload and become okay with the awful loudness
"normal" means not complaining about chemical sensitivities and pollution
"normal" means talking about people not ideas
"normal" means dressing and talking and moving and being just like they want you to
"normal" means we don't exist.

normal people don't hear voices
normal people don't feel like prophets or angels a lot
"normal" means not sobbing like a wreck in church and collapsing in front of the altar on divine mercy sunday because you feel like a fcking disgrace to god and yet you also feel like god keeps putting you right back on this shining road you don't feel worthy to walk
"normal" means

if normal means perpetuating this bullshit numbness then FCK NORMALCY.

I don't want to be "normal"
I don't want to be what THEY want me to be anymore
any of them

god I miss you guys
I want you back
I want this back
I DON’T WANT TO BE "NORMAL"

where was I


but yeah that's where this abuse shit is coming from
IT'S "NORMAL" TO WANT/LIKE THAT, REMEMBER???

AND GOOD, WELL-BEHAVED CHILDREN DON'T COMPLAIN



this is sick stop typing about it
please

TOO BAD, IT HAPPENED

laurie have we suffered enough


Damn it, stop asking that infernal question. "Enough" is a word I don't want to hear you using in relation to that, all right?
You've-- we've been through hell, okay? We have. I've got the scars to prove it, inside and out. We've been through some terrifying shit and a lot of us are STILL going through some terrifying shit. It hasn't stopped, okay?
But don't you
dare give me "it's not enough." Or, even better, that it's "fake." What the heck is "fake suffering" anyway?? Either it hurts or it doesn't, bottom line, and this shit hurts.
Then again, I guess you're only asking
because we have numb alters who DON'T feel the pain, because they're either so bloody dissociated that someone else is feeling it for them, or because they're hackers or negative as hell and they WANT us to suffer, therefore they don't give a shit how much it hurts. That's the problem.
But forgive my rambling. I know what you're asking.
If it helps to hear it this way, "you've suffered enough to deserve healing and compassion now." Is that what you want from the family downstairs? Kid I really don't think you're gonna get it from them, okay? They don't believe in us, they don't believe in this sort of wisdom and learning, I don't think they can fcking comprehend what we've been through. So they're probably going to think we're faking forever, no matter how much proof we toss at them. Anyway it's shit and you're only going to drive yourself up the wall worrying about it, so try not to. Just… realize it's not worth you getting so anxious over it.
We are getting back together lately, slowly, but really freakin' fantastically. Just so you know. Stuff's brighter and richer in here than it's been in months, probably.

I'm gonna close this entry up because it's late and I don't know who the heck is typing so fragmentedly at this hour… brain's a mess and we're tired, body's kind of sick, but it could've been worse. That's a very positive statement in this context. We did a heck of a lot better today than we could have, even with how rough it was. Upward spiral, kids.

Seriously though, good night. There's so much to think about, let's wait until after therapy this week to put a legit entry together.

You kids deserve to be happy and healthy and peaceful and unafraid. That's what Knife and the other Retributors and the Protectors like me are all trying to ensure for you, I promise. With every step I take that's what I'm going for.

To hell with anything or anyone that says you "have to suffer more." That is absolute nonsense and I will not stand for it.
No one "deserves" to bleed. NO one "deserves" to be used. That is... I can't even talk about this, I'm sorry, it's getting me nauseous.

Look for me if you need help, me or anyone else in Central. We're here for you and we will not hurt you.
I swear to you, I would rather die than break that promise. It's why I'm here.
We'll get through this. All of us. All right?

 




 

 

 


prismaticbleed: (shatter)


I am devastatingly depressed.
I haven't updated in days (feels like weeks) because frankly I just don't care much about anything anymore. I'm too tired. I don't have the strength to get out of bed. The only time I feel anything close to alive anymore is when I run, and thanks to this surgery I can't even do that for more than 30 minutes without pain.

My memory is getting worse. It's making things tough. Today I forgot that fruit hurts, and I ate an entire apple. The wave of grinding pain and nausea was a total shock at first, as I had no idea why it was there. It took me a good five minutes to remember that "oh yeah, apples have been painful to eat for two years now."
I forgot the other brother, the older one. He moved out sometime, a long time ago. He used to live here and I don't remember what that was like, or who he was. It's unsettling in a vague way, but I'm too tired to care.

I hurt too much. I want to vomit until I'm empty. I'm tired of the stomach and chest and head pain. I woke up almost every hour last night, so nauseous I was shaking. I can't remember the last time I felt rested.
I had nightmares again, the bland ones that are defined by existential annulment. In it I was driving, I got lost, had to walk home without shoes or much clothing, and when I got there the family acted like I wasn't even there. That's common. I wonder about the driving; every time I'm in a car in dreams I get hopelessly lost or, if someone else is driving, we get in an awful accident. But driving dreams are rare, except I've had like seven in the past two weeks. I wonder.

Is this bad, to talk about the bad things?
It's just so hard to focus on the "good" because currently, my perspective is so warped, it considers everything "bad." It considers everything a punishment or a sin. It's f*cked up, if you'll please forgive my language. It's just the only thing that sounds ugly enough to match this situation.
The voices won't stop. I am so tired of them. I am so tired. I actually considered going on medication to get them to shut up, but I know what that did to us last time.
"Us." That damned, saving word.

My therapist has either gotten too soft, or I've gotten too smart (again). I have a bad history with therapists, because I used to read psychology books for fun as a teen, and learned how to pick my own brain better than they ever could. So I know exactly what buzzwords to say and avoid, I know what body language they look for, I know what symptoms to hide or emphasize, I know too much. I play them like a harp.
The problem is that therapists aren't supposed to "get involved" like Laurie. I cannot tell you how horrible it is to end up in a self-destructive loop during a therapy session, trying to claw myself out of it and only being unable to because that horrid woman is staring at me. Just like that man before her. Staring. That makes it so much worse it's disgusting, because that sustained blank eye contact puts the body into "social mode" while my brain is in "you're a disgusting whore who doesn't deserve to live" mode, so I end up catatonic and silent. Then the therapist says, "what are you thinking about?" And I don't say anything, because that's the right answer. But a more bitter part of me wants to scoff and spit and tell them "nothing, you idiot, that's the whole problem!!" Can't they pick up on clues? Can't they think outside of the DSM-V? Or are they just as tightly programmed to "follow the rules" as I had to be on the job? It makes me sick.

I want to talk to Laurie, but the solution already negates the problem. The problem is that I am too suicidally depressed to care about heartspace. Acknowledging her presence would already mean I was okay enough to not need to talk. So we go back and forth, between bloody blinded sparkle-eyes and bleached-out corneas. Extremes.
I talked about that in therapy last week, I remember. How black+white does not equal gray, to me, and never did. It's the most exasperating, frustrating thing in the world. I cannot escape from the extremist mindset as long as I am fighting it, because that fighting keeps me trapped in that mindset. See? Gray is its own thing, a neutral perspective that sees clearly. I wonder if Sherlock would swap. I'm tired. I really am tired.

I'm splintered enough to switch colors, I'm sure. I realized that the other day. I realized that the reason I keep name-slipping with myself is because I dissociate so totally, so easily, around others, that I think a third-person perspective of my own alleged form is normal. When it hit me that that boy was acting the way I knew I should be acting, or at least would be if I had written the script, just like Jewel's outspacer adventures in elementary school… I knew that we were different, somehow.
Did I ever mention that? We were so used to that depersonalization, for so long, that we didn't realize it wasn't "normal," for lack of a better term. Jewel knew who she was, she would write down what happened to the letter, with herself and others. But the person writing those things was not her. Same with me. I, the one "watching myself," am not that boy, that loving boy. Somehow. I'm not even sure if he's real, or if he's just a projected splinter yet, a conscious psyche-split, like Cannon and Eros before him.


(ended suddenly)

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


Just a brainspill to pass the time.

It's only 11PM and I am so tired, spiritually so. I'm just going to go to sleep. I didn't sleep well at all last night, I woke up about 8 times and kept having nightmares. The one I remember... I was trying to steal cereal from a store? I didn't have money and was trying to sneak it out, but my bro and his girlfriend were there, and they kept following me and staring at me. I got so upset I gave the cashier my money and just left all the groceries, I didn't want the guilt of having them now. But when I left they followed me, I ran but they cornered me in some dark corner of the cellar, where I was hiding behind a sheet of metal. I was holding a rusty axe to my throat with tears running down my face, wanting to die but wanting those two to leave and being exhausted and being scared of the pain. They found me and all I know is that Laurie took over, beautifully brutal, and I swear the dreambody actually switched to hers. She got us out of there. That's all I know and that's comfort enough.
She didn't say anything about the axe. I understand why.

I cannot remember the last time I genuinely laughed or smiled, and that is frightening and heartbreaking.
'Tuning in to bliss' or whatever isn't working because that term got disrupted somehow. Wrong word now, it's sad. And so much 'happiness' is emotionless now. I can't remember how to feel emotions. Things are too numb. I told the therapist, I forget what she said. I think it's a coping mechanism or something. Moral corruption. "Good people don't rebel, don't have opinions, don't judge." So I don't judge anything as happy or sad or good or bad, I just sit here and let life wash over me like bleached foam, I remember when that used to be ocean water, that was a long time ago.
Not allowed to feel. It's false. Feelings aren't real. Who put this into my head. Who put it there, who taught me this, is it right?
I'm tired of listening to aliens and angels and false prophets and angry gods. I'm so tired of being terrified to question their whims and orders and chiding and coddling. Leave me alone. Maybe that will condemn me to hell but I cannot freaking function when you won't stop whispering into my ears. It's too loud, I can't see. I can't live. Is that what you want?
The worst demons are the ones that look just like angels, and all the evidence supports that too. The devil quotes Scripture for his own purposes.


I am so damn tired. I want to stay off the Internet for all of November. Especially Tumblr. That place is so toxic. Toxic toxic, poison. Not worth the effort and time. The people I care about there can still see me here. I need to leave that place for a while, heal my head. Our head. That differentiation is important. Things have been so vague lately.


I bought squash today. It's comforting to cook, to cut apart and separate after. I need to do things with my hands, disassembling, to calm down often. Just taking things apart, organizing pieces into piles, moving them around again, making different groups, over and over. People think it's weird but it helps so much. I spend 5, 6 hours in the kitchen every day now because the only thing I can shred and compartmentalize is food. I don't eat it. I just move it around really. I need to buy a box of things that I can do this with instead, get out of the kitchen, there's too much noise and people in there and that just feeds the stress cycle. I'll think of something.
I thought of making a stimming box or something. Like pieces of different textures, little things that make sounds, pretty clear plastics and glossy bits and colors. Maybe. But I don't like so many material possessions. I'm cleaning things out the way it is. Less and less.

On that note I might be homeless soon. Sorry I didn't say so sooner. I don't like thinking about it because it's existentially disturbing on some level, not knowing how we'd take care of ourself on our own right now, where will we get money for safe food and transportation and things. I don't like to think about it. Positive, positive. We need to focus on the positive. We CAN do this, we have the power, we've done it before. But I haven't laughed in weeks and I only smile at night and I'm so tired, I want more alone time, I want a place in this damn house where I can dissociate for three hours and NOT be hacked or otherwise mangled, I want to be able to go into headspace without smelling the old blood and feeling the lightning buzz in the air. I'm tired. We're tired.

At night it's better. At night there's hope. I think. They said hope was sinful, a vice, a false thing to lead you astray. Is it?
If it's not, if hope keeps you walking towards better days, let us have it. Stop telling us hope is a wolf in sheep's clothing. Is it? It hurts to think about.
At night there's hope. E told us of a dream ze had about Chaos, the other day. I haven't stopped thinking about it. The night before ze told us, we had been so sad, and he was there to comfort us. We didn't say or do anything and we didn't move, too tired. That was okay. He said he'd be there, and didn't push the issue, didn't make us do or say anything different. Thank you. Too many people outside did the opposite. I want my mind to be full of the better options, of respect like that. And the next morning ze told us of the dream and I just looked at that message, "of all days to hear that," and I keep thinking of it.

There's blood all over the legs and it's odd, I don't know when it got there. I don't know who put it there and when. Back to the dissociative days I guess. At least there was retribution, that at least keeps things moral and holy, that at least fights the demons back.

I think I'm forcing myself into too much of a box. I think my life needs to be more abstract. Art is so draining now, except when I just do swirls of color and things. Drawing concrete solid forms makes my head hurt and my eyes want to cry. Why? Is that because of college? We've heard of some systems being unable to draw people because of abuse memories. But I don't want to be ruled by that, those days are over. Except the family keeps triggering us so bad. Except Jeremiah was out again last night, trying to protect the children from errant blind bodies outside. It's so sad, to not know anyone here who can talk to us, who can listen to us.
If I had money I would just play with creative things. I'd buy beads and fabric and gems and stuff and just make things. I think. I'd like to try. I'd buy little canvases and do paintings like Cannon used to, just broad swathes of gouache and watercolor and glitter. Inkblots! We actually made so man inkblots, we love them, we want to sell them but how? We'll put them on etsy maybe. Love inkblots. That's the sort of art I LIKE to do, is that okay? Does that make us less of an artist? If we like weird fragmented hazy ideas and things. Is that less? Does that count of art?
Music too. Handbells, so many. Cellos. A piano. Thumb pianos. Bells! Like church bells, a choir. Metallophones. Timpanis, for those lovely drum rolls. The back of a piano, those open strings. Wood, wooden sounds, percussion. Just play things into a microphone and layer it, build on it, let it flow. The symphonies in our head slowly taking shape. A flute, an english horn, an orchestra. Sweeping notes and feelings, can we hire an orchestra? That would be so cool. But abstract, that too. We need a microphone. Step one. Get one and we can start.
Is this why I can't "write a book?" Because the structure, the linear-ness, is hard for me to understand? Again, does that make me flawed? If other people get frustrated with me, if I inconvenience them? "The customer is always right." "There's no market for your work." "We can't sell this." What do I do? I'll still have these idea waterfalls. But how to sort them... like the squash, like the pieces of things, circuitboards. Not puzzles, that's one-option-only. Set outcome. I just like taking things apart and putting them into a new order I thought of, something nice. It's what I'm trying to do with typecodes. I need visuals. It's easier that way. What am I saying.
I'd love to write a book but I've never seen a linear story. I see bursts here and there, maybe only a handful of actual 'events.' Everything else is data, is "knowing," is intuitive. That makes it hard to draw people too, I don't "see" so many of them, but I know what they look like... I've said that before. And I know what they are like, too, even if I've never seen them act as a person. It's hard to put into words, into a book, that sort of imagination and things. I wonder what other options there are. I'll find out.

I might be homeless soon. Don't think about it. I have to.
The mother disowned us, that we know. The father might let us stay with him for a month or two tops. He did before, in 2010, we don't remember. He got really really mad though, impatient with our difficulties in the long term. Understandable. Brother is not safe, especially not with the girlfriend. Not safe at all.
Grandfather does not want us here. Grandmother "needs us" currently BUT the second she discovers we are trans*, we will be on the streets. I am trying so so hard to hide this, it's making me sad and paranoid and that is feeding this numb depression. "Don't feel anything." Don't exist. Now the body is changing, scary in some ways, so scary, but now it doesn't look or sound like her. That's a godsend. We will take that. But... no one can know. Except we can't hide it. There's hair on the face, the voice is breaking. People keep asking. Everyone is asking. People suspect. One day it will be unavoidable. And in this family, who still holds ancient prejudices, where will we be? Not in it. Gone. I wish it were otherwise. But it's not safe here anyway.
To live on our own... should we? To have one friend there, or two, would be nice. Company is good, to keep track of time, to keep us from dissociating and forgetting to eat or bathe or move for too long. To help us function on bad days. It would be ideal. Does that make us weak? Does that make us manipulative? They said we were, we don't want that happening again. Ssh that's over forever, done with, thank goodness. Memories are dripping away now, almost gone, free to go.
Where would we go. Looking at other states, better rent prices, better rights for LGBTA+ people, et cetera. Nice weather, lots of trees. Thinking of somewhere in New England maybe, just ideas. Or a bit below us. Not too far at first, of course. But away from here, where we are shackled to the past. SLC showed us how blissful that was at least, no one knowing who drove this body before, the freedom to BE. That feeling stayed. Stays. That's a nice thing that we want again, once the body is changed enough. A new start.
We'll do this, we can do this, here's some hope, it's nice. One step at a time.

It's 11:30. We really want to go to bed at 10PM every day, that's the truth. We get so tired. But we force ourselves to stay awake, because it's at least quiet at night. We want to get up early and have sunlight, but then it's not quiet. We want to go out and do morning jogs again, to have lovely quiet slow mornings, to take the daytime to create and work. We don't want to struggle with fatigue every evening just to have peace. Hm. We'll try again tomorrow.


This is a jumble... tomorrow is Thursday. We'll have to sleep in then. The grandmother is cleaning, Overload will lose her mind. The sensory overload is hell. It's only one day a week, only one day. We'll deal. The vibe is so so bad but we'll deal. Maybe we'll go outside.
I can vacuum though, I love vacuuming it's fun, we could do that all day. And we do need to clean this room more, organizing all the books, lining everything up in straight rows on the shelves. That's good too. Then when it's all done we will... cook... a tiny kabocha squash. It's so small. I will take a picture of it for you it's great. The farmers didn't know how to cook them actually, we got to tell them how when we bought them, it was so nice. They listened and were happy to hear it. It's like a sweet potato. You can eat the skin, it's the best part. Kabocha squash. It tastes like a cucumber egg sometimes, it's great.

OH I promised you guys autumn pictures and I FOUND the camera but I could only get three pictures because it rained and most of the leaves fell. Here look.



Okay we have to sleep. She won't stop talking to us in that scary scary way and I want to cry. I want to tell her to stop but then she'll get mad and spite us for the next day or two, she doens't understand. but i want it to stop or at least i want to be numb enough to not care
see this is the problem, what is it? what is the problem? we are the problem, for having a problem
that's nonsense, it's a lie
no it's not
sorry. sleep


A positive note? Um, oh, I tried writing music again the other night. Just ideas. I got something! I'll try to work on it more later. Parnassus and Rosewindow stuff actually. I wish I had more sounds to work with though. Ah well, we do what we can.

I just realized Xennie might still be awake so I'm going to go wish her a good night too, bye everyone~




prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

Today has been odd.


This morning feels years old already, thanks to dissociation and forced extra sleep.
I was hacked. I will not sugar coat those incidents any more, I will not, I will NOT.
There have been so many hacks over the past several months, but no one has been writing about them here, because they've been JUSTIFYING them. They've been saying, "oh well I asked for it," or "did I ask for it?" or "but they wanted it," or "it doesn't matter," or "I don't want to remember," et cetera. It's basically impossible to tell when they happened now, let alone who they happened to, because of the massive time and identity loss that happens with them, to try and protect the consciousness of those who need to front afterwards.
So this morning I was hacked. They are very common in the mornings, between 5AM and 9AM usually. They don't happen at night because at night the children act as alarm bells, crying out in pain and terror to save us. Jeremiah shows up, Wreckage shows up, Sugar shows up, Algorith shows up. Either way people get furious and protective and we end up safe.

There's always one seethingly furious female social who protests, even at the expense of the children's safety. She is full of rage and hatred, and for reasons unknown she tries to push us into hacks and then forces us to dissociate entirely, making it difficult to escape. We don't know who she is, what her motives are, or anything yet, but she's OLD and she's disturbing. Her actions seem motivated entirely by programming, a fusion of "expected and/or obligatory behavior" and self-abuse. The head hurts to look at her motives so let's not.
In any case. There was a hack this morning. We have no data of it save for the last ten seconds, as that spiked into trauma territory, and the sudden self-preserving fear caused a moment of self-awareness. Therefore there is one little memory. It's hard to mention as it is so discordant and shocking to the Core that he does not want to look at it.
What we have is: Chaos showed up, all too suddenly, and he did not feel like him. He felt and spoke like Q (the only face tied to such behavior). The person fronting was shocked into awareness then, both from disbelief and terrible pain, shouting for him not to do it, for him to stop. Then the memory blacks out sharply, as he did not.
There was "forced sleep" then, for at least two hours, as the body could not cope with the shock and pain and so that was our only recovery option. There was a dream about Christmas cookies, stairwells, government agents, melted holiday candles, and the mother in a wedding dress. Everything felt gray and hospital-cold and overcast. It was a whimpering sort of fright, but Jay says that at the "stairwell part" there was a Christmas vibe and he can't let go of that, so the dreams don't "feel bad" as a result. This is good, that there was indeed a light of healing even amidst the flatzone vibe of the rest of it.
Even so, when the body woke up, the main fronter had one thing in mind and that was
Chaos is not allowed around here anymore.

This event raises many many questions.
CZ's been 'feeling' off for months now, as everyone knows. Being an Outspacer he is mentally "split," which for him occurred
when he met Jewel in 2003, possibly thanks to internalizing an Order Sapphire at the same time-- which forced a change in his very mode of expression, due to its overwhelming organizational influence (in stark contrast to his inherent 'chaotic' nature). As he spent more time with Jewel afterwards, Chaos developed a sort of "interacting personality" based on her behavior and that of her friends, picking up their quirks and attitudes. Like water, he let himself be shaped, and flowed between extremes. But even before he met us, he had a raw, angry side, brought out only in times of mental taxation, of being "pushed to the brink." Unfortunately for us, as his "social personality" grew, it tapped into that turmoil. Chaos then had a subtle "split" between his quiet, gentle, protective self-- who he was in isolation, living in docile company for many years-- and his new, expressive, powerful self, which he developed based on his environment. Most importantly, now that he had the freedom of environment and a multitude of external impetuses, his "chaotic" potential exploded outwards via optimism, wit, rage, eccentricity, and his infamously amorous behavior in close relationships.
This is hard to put into words and I apologize. I don't have access to a lot of memory here.
The bottom line is, as time went on,
that side of him gained strength, which was especially (and disturbingly) notable during the early Soul Form days around 2004-2005, when he had his violent "Infinite" transformations. This was strongly reproved even then, and so such behavior became scarce as time went on. However, recent events suggest that potential was only buried, not erased. Chaos has not literally "gone Perfect" in quite some time, but the Cores have all been vigilantly aware that it could happen any day, and the possibility was tangible. Apparently there has been a lot of "subconscious work" in that area, via the Cores trying to reach out to that part of his psyche, and surprisingly things do not always end well.
Nevertheless I digress. Chaos has been vacillating between his "docile" and "dangerous" modes of mind very frequently recently, at Jay's initial behest-- he had not been able to cope with the latter's behavior and did not
recognize it either, for the most part. Their relationship has been an "utter mess" since the Scratch, mostly for this reason, as Chaos has not tried to tap back into his quiet side in what may be years, for all we know.
Again I apologize as old data is very hard to reach right now but I am still trying to educate you at the moment.

But the big question is this.
Is this Chaos, or is this the Tar?
The Cores tend to forget, that during the Julie days, she DID pretend to be him for her own ends. This is not new behavior on the Tar's part. The Plague does not act this way, it is a disease, not a monster of mockery. But Chaos has always been terribly susceptible to the Tar, even against his own better judgment. We have perhaps been too trusting, too unwise, to let this go unchecked for so long.
Hopefully this is a situation of hijacking. It feels like it. There is a side of Chaos untouched by this. But it is sharing his form, his psyche, with the part of him that has become too wild and uncontrolled to safely function anymore.

Infinitii is similar but this cannot be helped, as Infinitii consists of the same stuff as the Tar.
Infinitii is well aware of hir slips, of hir inescapable fallibility, of the constant "danger" sign hanging over hir head. As of late this has been taking a heavy toll on hir, but ze is at least keeping this at the forefront of her mind and doing what ze can to heal it, or at least keep it in check. This, indeed, is Infinitii's function-- bringing the darkest, bleakest, filthiest parts of the collective subconscious to our direct awareness, because once such things are made conscious, they can be transmuted.
It is just difficult, when the metaphorical beasts being dragged up from the deep are both ancient and aggressively violent.

Jay is having trouble dealing with this, not just because these two individuals dear to him are struggling so, but also because-- like me-- he has no access to
many of the past-Core memories concerning Chaos.
There is a deep love in his heart for him, but it is based in recent knowledge. Jay has begun questioning the inherited emotions from past Cores, as he says they are "turning into obligatory behavior" as well as blind emotional dependency, therefore turning any current relationship into an empty act. Jay says that part of him
wants to forget who Chaos was before, if only to "start again" with him know, as Jay is a new person despite the anchor-ties in his soul to a past he does not remember.
He
has interacted with both sides of Chaos, AS separate individuals, which is what makes this such a pressing issue. They both behave and identify as their own people, and the more "emotional" side has powerful memories of Spinny, Cannon, Eros, and all those before... while Jay can only look back on their fragmented memories like scattered photos. Jay does not know this side of Chaos, and furthermore he does not know if he wants to, not with the angry outbursts and often-manipulative behavior he shows. So there is dissonance there.

Xenophon is struggling with this as well.
Jay is not her biological father, and can only act as an "adoptive" one to her. Chaos is her father, but he is unsure how to reconcile that fact with his internal breakage, as his older, "calmer" self is
not the side tied to her, and Xenophon does not approve with how his angrier self fights with Jay. Furthermore, Jay does not front often. The socials that come out are not always kind to her, although many of them use her father's name as they have none of their own. She sees firsthand how Jayce and Jess and The Destroyer may casually abuse the body. She has seen the active abuse in the past. And so many times, she has been met by eyes that do not recognize her, or who outright reject her as a "daughter," while the face never changes. No child should endure this and yet she stays strong, somehow. Jay says that even if he "doesn't understand this father thing," he does love her, and wants the best for her, however he can provide it. This is a great source of comfort for her, that even if the current Jay cannot grasp this inherited parentage, he is still entirely willing and wanting to be a father figure for her at the very least. He does love her, as best as he can. Chaos does too, although he too is now grappling with this same issue... and his darker side is threatening a metaphorical "divorce" as of late. Jay has no patience for drama so he will not discuss this yet, but he is concerned. You can see why this is complicated.
I have nothing more to say on that for now. Infinitii is the unexpected third party in this, being Xenophon's "mother," but ze has not weighed in on this issue with the rest of us yet. Again, this is understandable, as ze is struggling greatly with hir own personal troubles as of late.



So that was this morning. Horrible hack, terrible pain, Chaos inexplicably jumping in on it and not feeling like himself at all, then nothing. Total black. Then dreaming, waking up feeling filthy and tired, Infinitii's voice in tears from somewhere to my left. I got out of bed and I have no idea what happened from then until church.
There was an Italian priest from the local Oblates there, he was lovely. The sunlight was coming through the stained glass at just the right angles, making the whole church feel warm and gold. The priest walked into the middle aisle to give the homily, about how "the answers to our problems are right within our own hands," about how God is always willing to take our hands and lead us on in light and forgiveness. He mentioned a scene from The Passion Of The Christ where apparently, after the betrayal in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus is walking over a bridge with his captors and he appears to trip, falling to his knees, a hand slipping over the side... but this was on purpose, for Judas was hiding under the bridge, and Jesus was offering his hand to him? I haven't seen the film, I don't know, but the sentiment of that scene as he told it was not lost. I just wanted to write that down.
We got home and there was so much anger stored in my legs I couldn't bear it; I had to go outside and run and stomp around just so I could breathe without wanting to shriek or cry. It was weird. Still the sun was coming through the trees at the most beautiful angle, just like in church, everything was all red and gold in the evening air.


The next thing I can remember, I'm standing at the kitchen sink with an apple and dissociatedly wondering whether or not I should eat it-- the action felt obligatory, and I know apples usually make us vomit-- when suddenly, I hear music from down the hallway. My brother had his iPod on, and at that exact moment, what began to play but "Blue Ocean Floor."
I stopped dead, and for a moment I was caught between tears and rage. What the heck, of all times and of all songs...!
But the message was obvious. Stop being so unloving towards yourself. If there's one person in the world I want to be 'perfect' for, well, that song was demanding that I fit the bill right then and there. So I wasn't too surprised, but still deeply unsettled, when my body decided no. It decided, "no, fuck him, fuck this, I'm shutting out that reality." I don't know why it was so difficult to put the damn apple down (well hey isn't that relevant too) and leave without passively causing myself more suffering, with those notes ringing through my ears the whole time. But I managed. Somehow I managed.
...Also, I didn't know until two minutes ago, but the first time I ever heard that song was in this entry, from shortly after our first abdominal surgery in 2013... the night before a day plagued with self-abuse and sabotage. I swear that will not occur tomorrow, but... to be blunt, the quieter abuse is so much worse than the old sort used to be. I miss the blood terribly. I'd trade this apathetic "it leaves no scars so it doesn't count" attitude for Cannon's old screaming desperation anyday. At least she felt something. At least she could hope. At least she wanted to get out, and move into something better. She had contrast. She had direction. Now... everything is painted so white, so awfully white, and my lungs are choked with it.




Oh I forgot to tell you, I think the day after our last daily update I DID see Jessica's daemon's face. He got SUPER angry with me and got all up in my grill, and his face is just as shifty as Infi's body is apparently. Those eyes ARE 2D, they multiply and move around, and he has this creepy-as-hell mouth full of teeth that just splits his face open wherever he wants it to, too. I don't know if he has horns or ears or what, but there are at least two long 'spines' of sorts on the top of his head, I think. And instead of legs he has (I think!) long ribbony appendages like his arms? They move all flowy and they are SUPER long, it's creepy to watch him walk. That's how I know, I saw him walk once, with Jessica in his arms as usual. That's weird; he's always holding her like a baby, or she's curled up in his lap like a kid. I wonder if that's part of his role for her, to be some sort of stand-in for comfort that was never given by the parents? Like it would make sense.
He is tied to chocolate and coffee, two edible substances that were "stand-ins for comfort" for many other people in the physical life, notably the mother and brother. And of course we had the coffeeshop as a child, which none of us knew but is now immortalized in the Rosewindow world, and which Jay and Laurie have both visited since. As for chocolate I do not know, possibly that was due to spiritual website claims, or further media promotion, because for us it was negative for most of the lifetime. In fact, chocolate was viewed as a "hacking substance" for several years, and it was avoided under pain of retribution. So it is honestly baffling to see the use of it spike into an addiction in recent weeks, especially since it still tends to cause great pain, fear, and discomfort in the body.
It's the caffeine spikes mostly, they are hellish. That and the sugar, whatever it does to the stomach, it hurts
Chocolate hurts like hell and no one is supposed to eat it, just like fruit. Thank God they stopped but they were doing that for weeks.
Someone is still eating raisins though.
What the heck I told then to stop that!! Those are excruciating!
I know, but it's a sugar addiction of some sort. Perhaps seeking an energy boost.
It could be. That's stored as "educational data." There tends to be an unfair bias towards "outside sources" when it comes to "food orders," as it were.
So if someone tells him he should eat fruit, then he will, even if I said no??
Basically.
...Why??
Because he believes them more than he believes himself, or us, or his own experience. He believes that everyone else knows better than him, even when they don't.
It's not really "he," either. There's a lot of girls doing this.
The "old girls," yes.
Who are they? I keep hearing that name, but...
Jessica is one. Jezebel is another. The "manic red girl" is rumored to be one. For the most part though, Spice, they are faceless and unnamed.
Why?
Because they are old. Pre-System. In the early days, where unhealthy habits and programs have their roots, headspace did not exist as it does now, and so, identities bled together. I assume. We have no data from those times, only a blur of images and feelings and fears.
...I see. Sorry.
For?
For yelling. I get upset about this. Why does it have to be so difficult. Why doesn't Emmett come out more.
Because the girls holding the addictions keep holding him back. Remember, the social environment of the kitchen isn't very safe, and so it's difficult for one of us to front sometimes. The social influence is just too great, so one suited to cope with that gets dragged out. Unfortunately the vibration typically matches.
The bad ones, huh.
Yes Spice, the bad ones. The angry ones and hyper ones and frustrated ones. The ones that make your job a 'living hell' because they refuse to stop abusing themselves, or working by programs. But they have their reasons for existing too. And we need to work with them, ultimately.
So I've heard. ...Guess that's all we can do for now, then.
I suppose so. But it is something. At least we know!
Yeah, it's good to know. I'm glad to know things. Thanks, Sherlock.
Anytime, Spice.




What even is this entry. Who is writing it, I don't know!
All I know is that their is pain in my chest (bad posture! straighten up dude!) and it is 1AM?? So we had better get to bed.

I apologize for the lack of promised updates recently; schedules are not always possible to follow when new and pressing events occur by the day.
Tomorrow we are booked for the first half of the evening though, with a family visit. Outside of that, we do not know. Perhaps we will see you then.

 





 

 

081314

Aug. 13th, 2014 12:28 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 


I've been devastatingly lonely lately. Headspace is too quiet and I'm completely lacking in the understanding-support-group department. I feel like a scared little kid and I'm trying not to mock myself for it. That's learned behavior and it has never helped me, then or now.

Honestly I only ever and always need to talk to someone about one of two things: headspace, or the Leagueworlds. That's it, that's my life. I literally have no other concrete interests or goals, never did. So it's tough to relate to others on my own, which (again) is laughable, but there it is.
I'm sharing more about the League online now, as much as I coherently can, and our System's journey has been publicized since we started it in earnest many years ago. Nevertheless I cannot force people to read any of it, or like it, or understand, or care. It's pure chance.
It's just lonely is all, and I have to laugh. Since when did I ever care about being lonely? But maybe it's not loneliness as much as it is seeking a genuine human connection, one that doesn't consist of stock phrases or small talk. I'm very tired of that by this point.

What am I even trying to say.
I miss Laurie. I miss the days when I could be alone without hallucinating. I miss the joyful abandon of childhood, which I only know secondhand. The loneliness is coming from this gaping void in my chest. People can't fill it, they never can, they always just made it worse. I'm lonely on a totally different level I suppose. It's made me bitter lately, and I can't tell why. I'm running into a wall somewhere. Is this even loneliness? How can I tell?
It's guilt, really. Guilt and shame. I despise feeling sad and lonely, it's completely baseless. This depression has no reason to exist. And yet here it is. My soul is aching for something I can't remember and it's driving me mad.

Don't take this seriously, I guess. It's ridiculous. I just want to get it out of my head. Things are wrenchingly complicated lately and therapy today just confirmed that rather forcefully. I'll be typing about that tomorrow, best case scenario.
I need to be up at 8AM though so I'm gone for the night; thanks for listening.

 

celestriakle replied to your post: Has something happened to Laurie? I do read your livejournal stuff and have noticed you alluding to things going on with her, but I'm a little muddled as to what... :<

It's more of, something's happened to headspace? Since 2014 began I've been in a very dark place; essentially, a huge part of our psyche got kicked back to "age 13" mentally (the age we first massively dissociated) and I'm struggling with all the rubble that was left behind back then-- which I am now being forced to re-face alone, for the most part. I'm not very capable and I'm trying to work through it in therapy but it's challenging. Nevertheless, as a result of all that mess, our inner world has been disturbingly quiet for most of the year. It's taking quite a toll on me, unfortunately.
Thankfully, despite it all, Laurie seems to be blessedly impervious. Even if she's inexplicably missing for weeks she's never gone, which is a huge relief. (...She was gone, temporarily, and I'll never forget what that felt like.)
I'm just so used to her constant presence over the past 8 years that it's jarring to not always be able to find her when I need her now. Again, the silence and isolation is the worst thing lately, especially since I'm still struggling with many major illness symptoms.

Sorry for being vague about it all; it's confusing and complex, and I'm still trying to understand it myself. But thank you, so much, for the concern.

 


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

 



I'm feeling very odd. It's not quite depression, it's not quite anxiety. It's all based on my creative work, and it's based on the fact that it suddenly seems to have lost most of its meaning for me.

For a long time now-- a couple years, getting more pronounced as time goes on-- I haven't been able to make much progress in any creative fields because it just feels totally alien suddenly. Yes, I loved this as a kid, it defined my life back then, but now? Now I don't feel a connection to most of it at all. I try, I try for hours on end, but it just... doesn't seem to get anywhere.
I'm just so tired. Don't get me wrong, I still adore the concepts and ideas behind this old creative groundwork, but whenever I sit down and try to get through the data, or the art, or anything else that's actually building it outside of my mind, it feels so pointless. It feels completely empty.

I've come to realize, over the same amount of time, and with a lot of difficulty, that I never actually enjoyed drawing. Ever. For me it was a means to an end, just a way to get thoughts into visuals, more technical than anything. But it was my only marketable skill, the only thing people saw me as "worth anything" for being able to do. That really stings, when others define your identity and worth based on something you never actually felt any joy from. It's also downright terrifying, when the only thing that's paying for your food and bills drives you so deep into depression that you don't want to wake up. This was all I had to live for, once. When did it become a cage?

But I digress. I'm just... exhausted. I think I've been dealing with too much for too long. I'm burnt out. I don't know where to go from here on out, not really. I'm trying to be hopeful, but that's tough some days.

I do love this creative stuff, but it doesn't feel like I can do it alone anymore. There, I said it. I'm overwhelmed, I'm confused, and this bloody dissociative disorder just makes everything that much more difficult to deal with. It's hard to do much with life when you can't remember 90% of the past 24 years.

Sorry for the rant, I just need to get this off my chest or it'll poison me. I don't speak out much but frankly it's exhausting to stay quiet all the time.

I'm okay, I always am, I'll get past and through this. I'm thinking too much is all.


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


@ 11:58 pm


I don't know what to do with these emotions. This is strange.

I cannot seem to let go of this bitterness about headspace. There's so much of it, and it's all tied around that ridiculous "obligation" bit, the feeling that I am sworn in blood to servitude towards everybody, especially these people, and I am just tired.
Mainly, I haven't remembered any of my dreams for about 2 weeks because when I wake up now, there's no silence, there's headspace. I share a bed with CZ and Laurie is always watching over me, and yeah I care for these people but I get so upset now, when immediately upon waking already I have to deal with social interactions. And even worse is this stupid mental overlay of percieved or actual "romance." There is still seething hatred tied to that. Yes it's situational; when I'm really in-tune I can tell I genuinely love these people, non-romantically. BUT again, I need to recharge. I am starting to despise people simply because I feel obligated to do everything they ask me to, even if they don't-- just being in the same room as another person makes me feel like I have to do everything for them, that I'm not allowed to do anything of my own volition unless they approve, and that mindset alone is exhausting. It's why I can't talk to people easily either; my brain goes into "servant" mode and then I can only respond in the way I think they want me to. No individual behavior allowed.

You see the problem? I am making the problems. I am feeling indebted to everyone, all the time, like I can't so much as move unless I've been given orders to. These fiendish "floating voices" are causing this, and yet I am terrified to say that, because I am still convinced they are "of God" because they ALWAYS have the right idea. But there has to be a line drawn somewhere. They're either telling me "do this," "don't do that," for EVERYTHING, terrorizing me into reacting the way I "should be," or screaming insults and slurs at me for daring to make my own choices (which are always "wrong" and result in pain). I am literally terrified of disobeying by accident and being punished for my childish, egotistic insolence.
But yeah. That's bleeding over onto everything. I'm assuming that everyone else acts that way, even if (thank God) they don't.
I don't know what to do about this, even now. It's not just this house; I cannot even go shopping anymore unless Genesis is there, whether I like it or not, because when I'm alone they don't stop screaming at me. The other day I wanted to go get some lettuce because I was out of food, and I ended up driving in circles for a half hour because the voices were arguing over "which road I should take" (they don't always agree with each other), and so no matter where I went, or didn't go, someone was bellowing about it. I ended up being so completely overwhelmed that I decided "screw this" and just went home, which made them furious, and I ended up wanting to die for the next few hours because this is literally hell.
Disability services rejected me because they don't think this stuff actually happens. I'm too ashamed to admit that it does. I'm too ashamed of having these problems to admit just how terrifying they are, to admit just how difficult it is to get through the day. "Other people have it worse," you know. "Man up and get over it, stop acting like a baby." Et cetera. Laurie says it's nonsense but I'm even starting to get scared of her, I don't know why.

I used to think I wanted to be alone, all the time. Totally alone, to have blessed freedom from that feeling.
Then my grandmother left the house for three days and I was alone, and I didn't know how to cope.
Then Laurie quietly asked me "what if you had to leave us all in order to be happy" and my heart split clean in half.
God help me this is the stupidest thing I have EVER said but I don't want to be alone. Not like that. I don't want to be so alone that I'm ISOLATED. You notice how this works in extremes? Either I'm so alone that no one remembers I'm in the house, or I'm so surrounded that I can't even hide in a bathroom without someone literally trying to follow me. It's only ever been those two things, or at least it feels like it.
...I want personal space, I guess? Is that what it's called? I don't know. I want to be able to sit in a room with people who I care for, and who care for me too, WITHOUT feeling like I'm waiting for orders. I want to be able to enjoy silence around other people, without them actively ignoring me, and without my feeling like I'm waiting for orders. This is utter nonsense, why can't I get rid of this "I am less than everyone, I must serve everyone, it is wrong for me to make choices on my own, I must follow orders" mindset????

Genesis is turning 9 years old tomorrow, good Lord, and I haven't spoken to him in days.
I love him, okay? I love him too, even if sometimes I honestly can't handle his brutal honesty and unbridled emotions and total constant exuberance, even if I adore those things about him. I feel so guilty when I can't match that behavior without acting. I don't want to act, that's fake and disrespectful, but if I'm really so profoundly depressed that I cannot interact with him healthily, what do I do? I know what to do, I should stop EVERYTHING ELSE and just talk to him for God's sake, just put life on pause and TALK to him like we apparently used to do in college, that's literally all I want. God I want to do that with Chaos so badly, when was the last time we spoke, dear God we're married for lack of a better term, we have a daughter for heaven's sakes, why the hell can't I get rid of the crushing guilt and shame from THAT?? I love the hell out of BOTH of them, I'd die for them both, but I feel so ashamed of that that I run from them, all the time, I run from them and bury my affection because some part of my brain still feels that it's wrong, it's foolish, you're crazy, this is stupid, it's all in your head, who the heck cares WHERE it is if this is the most heartbreakingly honest thing I've EVER felt, even when admitting even that feels asinine? Why am I programmed to be ashamed of this?? When did that happen? How?
Was it really bleedover from the Julie days? Sherlock was talking about them recently, I don't know why, or about what, I don't even know what happened then, I have no memory of those times, then what is this?
I'm not afraid to be in love. I'm afraid to be in a relationship. I don't know how to act around him, or anyone else anymore, that drives me to frustrated tears, when did I forget how to be a person? Did I EVER know how? Everyone's been asking, I don't know.
But yeah. My best friend is turning 9 years old tomorrow and I want to celebrate that as jubilantly and honestly as possible, but I don't know how the heck to do that. Maybe I should stop asking "how." I keep thinking there's this secret set of instructions I have to follow, that if I screw up he'll be angry with me, that I'll bring even more shame and scorn upon myself. I know this is nonsense. I'm sick and tired of it. But then the question is: what do I do? I don't know.
It's vaguely exciting, realizing that I don't know what to do, because there are no orders to follow. I can do anything, theoretically. And that's nice, because then I don't have to fit some stupid "code of conduct" tomorrow and celebrating my BFF's birthday won't feel like a chore, which it shouldn't.
This is why I despise holidays and work environments and rituals and things. "You have to act THIS way!" To hell with that, seriously. I am so freaking tired of having to behave according to these rules everyone has written down. Are we that afraid of being honest with each other, are we that afraid of total openness and spontaneous expression, that we make all these rules to follow, and shame the people who don't? Is that what this is?
And yet disappointment scares me, because of how extremist the consequences have been for it, for me, in the past. Genesis will probably be a-okay with "doing whatever" for his birthday, but I know him, he's GOING to have a few requests that he's going to want me to follow through on, even if I don't feel like I can do them, either sincerely or at all. "Going through the motions" just to do what he'd like isn't fair. But I struggle with that, so much. I really should just talk to him about this. It's not that I don't want to do those things-- God knows I would literally do anything for him, but the problem is that lately it's been "within reason." I'm starting to realize that I can't sacrifice or sabotage myself just to please people. Should I though? Is that selfish?
The problem is, I love him, dearly, and so I DO want to do what he wants me to do, or at least I match the motivation? It's like if someone I cared for asked me to play their favorite song on the piano, as a kid. Of course I'd want to play it for them, to see them smile and enjoy it, but there would always be two roadblocks. One, playing piano was not easy for me. It was often so taxing that I would be completely drained afterwards. And two, that person was often going to be judging my performance after such a request. I cannot explain to you how badly I dislike being judged. The very word hurts, like a headache. And so I would be conflicted, because yeah I wanted to do this thing for them, I wanted to make them happy, but I wasn't capable of doing that thing in good faith. So I had two options: go through the motions, or explain my position. I would always choose the former due to crushing shame. But it made me learn to be a robot around people. Sure, I was praised for it left and right, but I was secretly miserable, wanting nothing more than to express myself and have that respectfully heard, but I never spoke up.
I want to draw things for people, and write things, and compose things, et cetera, and God knows I would love to but it is so terribly difficult I really don't know if I should force myself to do it anyway or not. Creativity suffers when you turn it into a chore. You literally cannot force it. And yet I don't know what other option I have. I'm so deeply ashamed. Why I am I so depressed. Why can't I get rid of this stupid problem, why can't I create things like Jewel used to, she was never tired or afraid or upset, why am I? I don't want to be.
I need to stop thinking about this.


I've been working on Parnassus and Dream World since 4PM or so today. There's SO MUCH data to go through, it's really driving me up the wall. I get so overwhelmed by the amount of it, really. Pages and pages of text, most of it brainstorming or research or theorizing, and then I have to go through it all and honestly, I am so tired of thinking. My head hurts, it's stuffed full of too much, I just need to meditate for like five solid days at this point.

That's my paradox right now. Headspace has been quiet for far too long, and yet part of me doesn't miss it. Maybe that's because I've been numb lately. Maybe it's because I can't stand any more voices in my head what with these screaming people about. Maybe it's because having to live this life for 70 other people is so terribly difficult I try not to think about it, ever. I need a break.
But then people slip, and I stagnate, and life gets gray and dull, and I end up running back to them only to find myself overwhelmed with the joyous burden of it. Does that term fit? I adore everyone up here, I really do, even when they scare me and confuse me, even when I wish I could run... and that's the problem. I'm tired. I'm so tired of triple-checking everything we do to make sure it meshes with everyone else. And it should be easy, but there are conflicts of interest, and outside rules and orders, and all that.
...
I don't know what my wish would be, if I had one. But I know what it wouldn't be. I would never wish for them to just go away.
That's so hard to say. It's partly a death knell, a ball and chain. I love them too much to be free, to be a single person. But I'm scared of that. I don't know how to be just one person. I don't think I ever did.
So when Laurie asks me, not looking at me, if I'd leave her and everyone else forever if it was the only way I could be healed, if it was the only way I could be happy... it just shreds my soul, it tears me to pieces, because I still love her even if it brings out demons in my psyche and I don't know if I could abandon the only family I've ever had. If you'll forgive my language. I'm just bitter and it needs to get out.
I love them, more than I've ever loved anything, I think. That's scary, in a way. Yes, I love the Leagueworlds, I adore Dream World and all the people in it, but... I don't know them. At all. I adore them from afar, as a writer, as an observer. And that is bliss, that is beautiful, don't get me wrong... but... there's a strange, special sort of quiet happiness that comes from someone knowing you personally, as an individual. ...I never really had that before headspace. I remember how guilty, how ashamed, and yet how secretly overjoyed Jewel was when she first started trying to talk to Ryman, back in 7th grade, alone in her room. And now look where we are, all of us.
Would I have to choose between them, and my own well-being? Is that the choice I'm being given? "Leave the people you love, and then you can be healthy." For the love of life I shouldn't have to choose between love and health, that's not right.
But I'm scared. I'm scared that I have to. I'm scared that I would. Not to be selfish, but because "it's the right thing to do."
It's sick. I'm nauseous just thinking about it. If the voices told me that headspace was the only thing standing between me and spiritual progress... well, actually, I'd call them out on such a blatant lie. I would. Laurie would be proud of me. I've made MORE spiritual progress" WITH and WITHIN headspace than I EVER have and EVER will with these cruelly bossy faceless tyrants. Now they're mad, but really? I don't think I want to listen to anything that calls me a "blasphemer" and punishes me whenever I dare to stand up for myself.
"You don't have the right to stand up for yourself," they say. "You're a sinner, you don't know any better." "WE know the truth. We're only guiding you."
See, that's what confuses me. There are bad voices and good voices. The lines blur all the time. I'm never sure who to listen to.

Again, if I have the right... if I have the ability to choose, if this is the right choice, if I won't suffer as penance for this...
...I want to choose to listen to headspace. ONLY headspace. Please, no more faceless orders. This is why I'm scared of "channeling" and all the things they say I "should do" on spiritual websites and things. I don't want to be a servant to any more people, I'm so tired. Please. I know serving others is good but please, I need to be able to act of my own free will too, don't I? Or is that an illusion too? I don't know. This is such a conundrum.
But you know what? I'm not so scared of taking risks when I'm with headspace, because we all work together, we all know that we DON'T have all the answers, but God knows we try, we try our best to act for the good of all, we really do. And even on the bad nights I always had someone to turn to, always had someone there, I always had hope of some sort, even if it was weird and bloody, even if it was held in the blade of an axe or a knife or a razor. Sometimes hope was just knowing someone else was there, even if I was scared out of my mind, even if I DID feel suicidal... somehow, weirdly, against all common sense, the simple awareness that there is a whole universe inside my mind and this person is REAL and I'm not alone was so perfectly bizarre that it was hopeful, just like that. It was the most brilliant paradox. The person cutting you to ribbons, the person making you wish you were dead, the reasons you are struggling with daily life, they are part of some greater colorful flashbulb of life inside OUR soul, all of them, all of it. It's so weird, and yet I treasure it. I do. I truly do.
So yeah, I'll choose them a thousand times over if I have to. Yeah I'm scared to say that, I'm scared of the punishment I'm already bracing for, but maybe it won't come. Maybe the floating voices will just leave, condemning me as a "lost cause," saying I'm "not ready to ascend" or something equally terrifying.
But... I don't know. God I don't know.
It really is scary to feel all these other faces and souls looking out from behind these eyes with me, because what can I do? How can we live 71 lives at once? Can we? Should we? What if we just lived one, all together? But then that's not entirely fair either, if I'm monopolizing the whole thing. I don't want to. I WANT to share this life with all of them, at all times.
I just... don't know how. It breaks my heart. I want to be able to introduce ourself as "the Lightraye System" instead of a hollow given name, because I'm not speaking for an assigned role I'm speaking for a living community, but that scares people. I guess they're scared of the same thing I still struggle with... how do I act? What if someone else switches out, how do I act? What is the proper behavior? And by this point, both Laurie and I are shouting, "to hell with proper behavior, just be yourself!!" I don't care HOW you act, there ARE NO RULES, there IS NO PUNISHMENT. Seriously, just... be yourself. Don't censor yourself. That goes for me, too. But again, I know how tough of a program that is to override. I know how difficult it is to get over your fear of overstepping boundaries, when we've lived in minefields our entire life. You can't exactly enjoy the feeling of walking through a meadow when you're constantly bracing for the ground to explode.
But there's a fine line, there's a fine line between recklessly relieved rebellion, and wise but unflinching independence. When you finally stand up for yourself, it can be such a rush of gratitude, that you get hooked on rebelling just to rebel, just to exercise this newfound right of yours TO say "no," or even to say "yes." That's an extreme too. It'll wear down, in time, to a place where you can say yes or no or maybe even if it does agree with what they're telling you to do, because ultimately the choice IS YOURS and YOU KNOW THAT. There's no more fear of punishment and resulting servitude, there's no more anger at that self-imprisonment and resulting revolt. Instead, there's a knowledge that you have the right to make your OWN choice, but there's also a new and courageous knowledge that you are also the only person responsible for the personal results of that choice, be they "good" or "bad." And there's a sort of calm strength in that, in knowing that whatever happens, you are the only person with your finger on the big red button, so to speak. It's hard to put into words.
I think what I'm trying to say is... with headspace, we knew that we weren't always going to make the "least painful choice." Sometimes we'd check every pro and con, make an informed decision, and STILL end up with scars from it. But when that happened, we'd deal with it. We'd say, "well, we did our best," and choose more wisely next time. There was NO fear of punishment, NO fear of "messing up," because WE were the ones evaluating the whole thing.
...Lately that's been tougher, with all these new people, with all the remaining struggles. Now there are people screaming over your shoulder, headspace people, because they're afraid you're going to do the wrong thing and hurt them. I don't want to. But I don't want to be so scared that I stop living, either. There has to be a balance. This topic is making me physically ill, it's all the wrong color and texture, I don't feel well around this sort of talk at all.


Hydro sent me a message on Tumblr today (you're awesome bro, thanks) concerning my recent troubles with creative work. I won't paraphrase the whole thing, but one of the lines stood out like a floodlight as something I had forgotten, and which I had previously held on to as a motivation when little else worked.
"If I do not bring life to what I make, no one else in all of creation will."
Really, all I've ever felt like is a storyteller. And I love those whose stories I tell... maybe that's all I will ever have for a motivation. The work is hard as hell and it's scary and depressing sometimes, but I love these people, and so I don't think I could ever call it quits even if I wanted to, even if someone ordered me to. That goes for headspace as well.

Genesis is hanging around already, well it is technically his birthday already, happy birthday love.
He's being understanding too, now that is pulling at my heart something fierce, I really don't give these people enough credit. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." And he means that, he's not angry, he's compassionate, I'd do the same thing for him. And seriously I keep thinking of Infi on hir birthday, how ze would have been blissed-out just to spend five minutes with me, not doing anything, just to be there... all these little things, why do I keep forgetting that I'm allowed to have them and treasure them, why do I keep stepping all over the things I love about life, why do I feel like I have to bury my joys. This is ridiculous.
Gen you had better stick around tonight, just saying. I may be tired but weirdly, sometimes recharging means just being around people without any expectations, without any noise. With everyone half-asleep it's the best. (Gen says "good because I'm already there.")


This is such a tangled entry. I have no idea what I wrote at all. I'm shocked at how much is just bubbling to the surface lately; I'm sorry for the mess but at least it's getting out. I really do have trouble expressing emotions physically-- either they're too dysphoric, or someone nearby is going to look at me disgustedly and say "don't do that," you get the picture. So crying and being angry and even laughing are things I can only do upstairs, or in text.
I keep feeling like there are topics I'm skipping or forgetting, but that are important. There probably are. I'm sure they'll rise to the surface soon enough though, as of now I'm too exhausted to go digging for anything; my brain is actively trying to make me not think any more for tonight.

I've been listening to Mashashi Hamauzu for the past week solid and I forgot how incredible the FFXIII OST is. Honestly. Here, have one of my old favorites because it's nice.

Now my legs hurt from running too much and I'm very very tired and I'm more peaceful than I was 2 hours ago so good night.

 

 

 

june 28th

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

 

 

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Where was I.

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

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


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


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

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

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

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

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




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





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

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

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

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

 



 

 

june 10th.

Jun. 10th, 2014 11:59 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

Good evening. This is Mulberry Delta. I've asked Sherlock, Laurie, and the full cast of Retributors if I may write tonight's update in their place, for the sake of the responsibility I feel towards them and cannot otherwise act upon.
There was a hack tonight. That is the most outstanding and direct detail. Garrison and the other Archivists have details but I choose not to look at them; that is not for me to know and I feel it would be rather disturbing to me.
I have a candle lit. I like to light them when things like this occur, as they give me a feeling of peace and prayer. With a candle burning, I feel we have a vigil of hope.
Atonement has resumed. Sherlock says there were "heartfelt thoughts" concerning that topic earlier this evening, when Jay was driving home from what is described as a rather synchronistic grocery outing.

Let me resume the main topic, forgive me. Sherlock is handing me the data so it may be a little choppy.
…This pains me to type. Simeon was screaming, with tears. It shocks me that he was the one to carry the consequences instead of Jeremiah. …Garrison says that was possibly on purpose, as Jeremiah was badly disturbed last night? I do not know how, but they claim he was badly shaken up early this morning and that event was extremely painful emotionally for the rest of us to become aware of. As I know Simeon is a very selfless and kindhearted boy, it does not surprise me to think that he would take on that pain in his stead, to spare him extra shock and fear, but it still hurts my heart to think that he, a child, would
have to do such a thing in the first place. This is why I am glad that my friends, the Retributors, are "back in business." They bring a light and a purifying force of intention into these nights where there would otherwise be none.

Razor was the first to pick up a blade (our only new ones, courtesy of Wreckage). It surprised whoever saw her (I do believe it was Laurie; she was present almost immediately for the sake of keeping things coherent), and there was a question of "are you sure?" but Razor insisted yes, "she had a job to do" and continued. This personally surprises me, as earlier this year she was hellbent on
not being a retributor anymore. She currently adds that she "had a change of heart," though.
Knife must have been the second, as there's a strong amount of responsibility surrounding him concerning this incident. None of it is negative, I must emphasize. The retributive half of this event was purely beneficial.
Knife's reaction is the most strongly recorded as well, "emblazoned" in the records. Upon seeing the blood notes on the body, painted by his sister, he apparently picked up the blade and decided to follow suit, re-taking up his original role in camaraderie with her. Immediately after seeing how easily and cleanly this new blade cut, and how quickly the blood sprang up and out, he smiled and began to laugh and cry. One line that was recorded is, "this was my purpose." He was sobbing with a sort of heart-wrenching gratitude the entire time. However, the most surprising aspect of his actions was that, when cleaning out the first rush of purified blood, his first and immediate instinct was to place the cloth in his mouth. We had no idea what he was doing at first, or why the motion had been so strongly instinctive, but then it registered-- he
is a vampire, after all. Nevertheless we had never known why he had manifested as one, other than through his retributive connection to blood as a whole, so this was intriguing, especially since it was not motivated by "hunger" but rather by some vague sort of affection. Why this is, we do not yet know. Nevertheless we had to kindly chide him not to actually ingest any blood as we went along, as he was in a very emotionally sensitive state and so that impulse was equally strong.
The third person to appear was Algorith, who was mainly wishing aloud that she wouldn't have to "clean up" after anyone, as her first and only previous experience with that was painful enough for her to not want to relive it ever again. She cut a few scars, but not much is recorded for her. She, however, did comment that "Simeon was in the body" trying to keep her from harming it, due to a childlike dislike of pain. Data is vague but I do believe she gently but briefly explained her motivations to him, for which he moved aside.
The fourth person to appear was Sugar, rather suddenly as someone was cleaning the blood off the arms. She was "triggered" by the image of it on the cloth, surprisingly, as the pattern was strongly similar to that of her face "tattoos," all graceful delicate dots and lines. Garrison says that data, stored through her awareness, didn't register as blood at all, but instead as a "butterfly-esque" work of art, in terms of fragile beauty? That is interesting, thank you.
The fifth last person to appear, and the one who left the strongest energy residue in the body, was Wreckage. Sherlock says there's "no clear data" for a lot of this, as the event wasn't focused
on archiving, but rather on immediately living in focus. So we're simply recording this for posterity, as they say, not for literal accuracy. Just a reminder.
Wreckage was angry, but she burns her anger in a condensed way, very differently from Laurie would in the same situation. So her main concern was how "ferocious" the hack had been, who was responsible, and how we could prevent this in the future. Sorry, the body is becoming very tired from stress shutdown so I may have to summarize this. Wreckage speaks "through her teeth," in a sense, as hers are very large and they give her a very identifiable speaking style when fronting. That was recorded clearly. The energy overlay of her claws was too, as she was momentarily distressed that she did not have them, instead owning only blunt fingers in this body. She insisted that she cut at least one scar, to "share in the responsibility" as a fellow Retributor, especially since she felt she should have detected and stopped this hack before it happened (something that likely would have been near-impossible in this situation). There's a data picture of her using the blade as a claw, saying she would "only cut a small one," and then there's a very strong string of data of her actually cutting a rather deep scar on the arm. Laurie jumped up in shock, asking her why she was being so ferocious about it, but Wreckage said it could have been much deeper, and besides, she felt it was more 'reverent' to be that deliberate, in light of the situation's gravity. Laurie agreed, and Knife also sided with Wreckage's sentiments.
The last clear data we have of Wreckage is of her cleaning up the blood and, upon seeing it slightly 'clot' upon drying, thinking it was Tar. Understandably she demanded an explanation, and then also asked if it was healthy for Knife to be wanting to ingest it if it was indeed so corrupted. Surprisingly, at these questions, Infinitii showed up. He said that, upon being 'bled out' into the air, the "red energy" was purified of Tar, hence why the atonement was needed. However he and Laurie then told Knife that the human body could not eat blood anyway, so it would be wise for him to not do that so eagerly. I do believe there was also a comment about there still being a risk of corruption as far as motives were concerned? Like, if Knife ate too much of the atoned blood, it would be akin to eating a "sacrifice," therefore being spiritually unhealthy. Apparently his small, oddly reverent actions of consuming it earlier were perfectly safe and allowed, especially in light of whatever their function was.

Julie showed up sometime during all this, furious and in tears, perfectly understandably. The thought that the same thing that had used her was still using us, and harming children as a result, was enough to make her blood boil. Sherlock says she asked Laurie, somewhat accusingly, "why she wasn't so angry too," and Laurie notably commented that Julie felt anger because she
understood what it was like to endure such events, from a very direct perspective, and that if she were to empathize with the wounded that directly, it would probably emotionally destroy her. Laurie, however, could not understand that side of this situation, ever-- her very function of existence negates it. However, her function also includes her bearing the pain of others on an empathetic level, so she was able to feel the heartbreak and crushing sorrow that the wounded might be too scared or numb or furious to feel on their own. They both react with anger towards the hackers, and they both want to heal the hurt and prevent future pain, but they both feel and show it in very different ways.

Dread, the "dead red boy" (he seems to have temporarily chosen this name), was our main intermittent fronter for this whole thing. Healthily, he feels things "neutrally": without labeling them as 'good' or 'bad.' So he was able to simply 'exist in the moment' even as the Retributors were dealing with hack fallout all around him. Dread does not seem to feel any emotions, but again, this is not apathy, it is simply a sort of neutral zone.
Unfortunately this peace only occurs in equally peaceful situations as of yet. Dread can and does still front in situations were emotions would be more traumatic than numbness, such as last night, but his 'neutrality' in those events is tinged with a very real feeling of fear, that functions as a sort of danger siren. After all, it is not healthy to endure such events for longer than is demanded or unavoidable, as we have learned from past failures. Thankfully Dread is not an apathetic fronter, so he does not do this. He recognizes and accepts the background fear that called him out, and so even though he will bear that in lieu of the pain of others, he will not stay longer than he must.

Jay is a little scared by all the cuts on the body, as he is the one who has to deal with them at night (I honestly haven't noticed them the entire time I've been typing; perhaps others are prevented from feeling that if they aren't tied to it?), but he has already emphasized rather sincerely that "he loves all of us," even in the wake of such an event, and he "hoped that love counted for something." Laurie insisted that it did, more than he knew, especially in light of what had just happened. I have to say I agree with her; having our core react with compassion and love for the entire System regardless of current pain, instead of regret or hate or anger or fear, seems to hold things together no matter what happens. I think we'll heal faster from this too. It is somewhat shocking to me even now, to see that the hack itself hasn't left much of a mark at all, at least not noticeably, as it is being drowned out by the collective hope and companionship and healing we've all endeavored to bring out in its wake.

Oh! One last note, this was just forwarded to me by Jay. Apparently Razor has decided that working with crayons might be her artistic outlet in lieu of cutting things? Someone used them as a "stress outlet" on… Sunday, Sherlock says? That entire day is noted as "very interesting," as there was a great deal of color synaesthesia tied to emotions and fronters? Something along those lines, but I'm being told not to write about that here. You'll have to be patient then.

I suppose that is all I have to say tonight. Sherlock says that'll do for now, thank you for helping me by the way.
Jay has a lot to say about "Outspacers" and System maps in the near future? He's apparently been working a lot with both of those topics lately, which is good to hear. We've been a bit of a mess since December, to paraphrase Laurie as of late. She took it harder than any of us, it seems.

Garrison wants me to add that the hackers are as of yet unidentified, and that they are still using positivity as weapons against us? It's difficult to type, this must be a touchy topic. Laurie says "of course it is, they've been using this to keep him and Chaos apart for years." I'll leave that as-is, I'm sure that says enough about the problem on its own without me going into details. It is a serious problem though, that needs to be emphasized above all else. "It needs to stop," at all costs.

Lastly, there is apparently a "newly manifested" voice in the Crimson slot, who is apparently the "splinter of Razor" that Knife has been suspecting since last year?? I was not aware of this. Apparently she was splitting on her anchor and that could not be reconciled, so she went through a time period of "mental division" similar to how Sugar did, until a color slot opened up that matched that "new person" so they could break of and become their own person? I'm sorry, this is a bit overwhelming but that's what I've got in terms of data here. Sherlock, take over for me.

All right. You'll all know, Sugar was badly split for several months in terms of her anchor, also because several faceless voices were sharing that same anchor at the time. We've pinpointed that Wreckage was the latest and last person to show up from that string of individuals, and she has officially "taken over" Sugar's original chosen anchor, that of violent rage towards those who would use Pink energy (affection, childlike sweetness) for lurid and otherwise harmful purposes. That's the short version. However, Razor was also conflicted because she originally shared her very consciousness with Cannon, as well as the Tar, back when the BLC was first discovered. When she became her own person, that anchor had not changed, but her personality no longer matched it. So she appears to have been in a similar state to that of Sugar for quite some time now, and as of today we finally have conclusive evidence of there being a Crimson-slot voice (now that Eros is confirmed demanifested) that holds the exact personality break Razor had been shifting to and from during her Tar-tied days. I hope that's not all hopeless jargon to the lot of you. Nevertheless, yes, this was a sort of "aha" moment for me, as I recognize this energy and I do wish to write about this in the future when it is not midnight and the body is not desperately trying to recover from blood loss and toxic food and lack of sleep. I apologize for that.

The green "oni girl" is indeed still alive as well, she is not a Retributor, but rather a sort of Protector. However she is still nameless and is not yet able to interact with headspace without glitching out, as her anchor is still rooted Downstairs. We will be trying to work with her more in the near future as well.
The "Victorian Pink" girl's name is confirmed to be Ashen, as it stuck.
"Pinstripe," aka Jayce, is still an anomaly in terms of color and function, for the record. He may be a Sub of Brown, Aqua,
or White at this point.
And of course the Outspacer phenomenon is being duly studied by Jay, as any and all concrete data on it now will greatly aid all of us in understanding how the Spectum lineup works a little better.

That is all for tonight, I believe we have spoken enough. Thank you in turn, Mulberry, for your assistance and dedication to your job. I am honored and grateful to have you as my assistant, and as a dear friend.

Have a good night, as Jay would say.

-Sherlock

- Mulberry Delta

 



 

 

venting.

Apr. 30th, 2014 02:39 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


All right, I haven't been on here in a long time and I think I need to be. Even if it's shoddy and ridiculous and silly, even if it's garbage and stream-of-consciousness junk. Maybe I just need to get it out, maybe I just need to let go and be open, as I can only ever be on here, or whenever I'm totally acknowledging of headspace. Isn't that funny? The single thing that causes me the most pain, even secondhandedly, is also the biggest source of self-healing I have.
Let's start there actually. Backtrack a bit, sure-- there's a lot that leads up to it-- but that's the point I want to ultimately make.
Biggest point here: headspace, aka the "Lightraye System," or the Lotus Cathedral innerworld... has proven to be a bigger force of personal health for me than Dream World has been. It hurts, horribly, to admit that, like losing half my ribcage, but it's true.
As for how I realized that, it's taken years. But lately I've been doing massive amounts of research and worldbuilding for DW, and despite the immense joy it's given me (as it always does), I was shocked to realize that, even if I DID learn the same lessons I did from the System, in DW they were totally secondhand. And it's easy, to see victories for peace and joy and hope and love, from an observer perspective, and accept them totally. I always did. That's why I adore that world so much; it is the total manifestation of every dream come true for me. But I've always been separate from it. And that's the missing link that the System had. They held it tragically, almost too late, and covered in blood, but there it was, a treasure in their victorious broken hands nevertheless.

 

This entry is going to jump around a lot. There's so much I want to say and don't know how. I'll just type as it hits.

Lately I've been trying to open commissions. Problem is, I'm scared. I don't talk about art a lot, but... well, maybe tonight I need to.
... I only ever wanted to draw in order to see the faces of the people I loved on paper, somewhere outside of my own head. It was never an "artist" thing. As a kid, if you liked dinosaurs, immediately you decided you wanted to be a paleontologist when you grew up. If your dad was a fireman and you admired him, well then you wanted to be a fireman too. Things like that. So, since the people I loved and admired and who gave color and light to my life were only knowable to others through artwork, artwork that only I was cursed and blessed to be able to create... well, because of that, I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. I'll never forget when, during high school art class, I suddenly learned that being an artist meant I had to draw what other people told me to. I'd have to draw business things, I couldn't just draw Jewel Monsters all the time. And the instant I heard that-- I was, what, 15?-- the instant I heard that being an artist was about creating art in all contexts and situation, NOT simply translating my own inner images to outer ones... I didn't want to be an artist anymore. I didn't. But I had no other options.
So I stuck it out, and you all know of the troubles that college brought to us in that respect. The sudden and unannounced introduction of figure drawing dragged all our traumatized demons out into the open before we were ready for them, and that sacrilegious imposition of abuse and fear into the world of art, the world of wonder and innocence and freedom from pain, broke something in me quite badly.
But I didn't quit drawing. I couldn't. I couldn't ever. There were beautiful things in my head and heart, beautiful people, and I just loved them too much not to devote my entire life to trying to get them more love than only I could give. I wanted other people to see and know and love them too. It's all I've ever wanted out of life. It's the only thing I need in life in order to die happy, so to speak. I've made the effort, I've made a start, this is true... but I've been scared.
College, high school, whatever happened there, it turned art into a performance. It turned it into a game, an act, a structured activity, something you did "by the rules" and "according to expectations" in order to get the right grade, or response, or the like. And it hurt. It sucked all the joy out of art for me, for years. I'm sorry for that. Even opening a sketchbook now makes me so miserable and anxious I want to vomit. I actually have panic attacks when I try to draw now, I can't shake that feeling of "you're being judged, it's not right!" even after years of trying to distance from myself from it totally. Problem is I internalized it. I've become a perfectionist. I want total photorealistic honesty on paper, nothing less, and that's impossible, especially with the reality splits. It's also completely unnecessary. I know that. And yet I hold myself to that standard, and I break my heart when I cannot even try, because I am so scared of lying with my pencil.
It's why I'll sacrifice food money for commissions, whenever I can safely do so. I... I did that this month, actually. Saved up $40 and handed it over before I could chicken out, because when it came down to it, I loved those whose faces were finally going to show more than I loved anything else in the world. I could survive on what food I was given at home, that wasn't impossible. But I owed something more than lip service to the people inside. And I wanted to see them. More than anything else, I want to see them too.
And I do. I do, and the only thing that could possibly make me happier is being there, with them.
On my good days, the gratitude that I feel when I realize I can be is enough to turn my heart into a supernova.


About the bad days though.
I've literally been living off of pocket change and handouts for months now. But, circumstances are changing, and those sources are running dry. I cannot live as a scavenger forever; it's not ethical, it's not healthy, it's not sustainable, not when the people whose crumbs you're living on are scraping up those crumbs themselves.
And yet my psychologist and counselor still say I am not in any sort of mental condition to hold a job. I know it, too, because I have TRIED several times since I had to leave my last one in 2011, and they all fell through. I collapse. It makes me loathe myself most days, for being so "weak," so "fragile," for being a "disgrace" and a "waste of space" and that whole list of awful but too-believable lies. And yet, it doesn't seem to change. If anything, I've gotten worse in that respect, despite my healing. We work deep, now. I still get broadsided if we're not careful. I still have nightmares about things I cannot find the nerve to discuss in therapy yet. I still find myself milliseconds away from calling the hospital for another 201, or from deciding "to hell with that" and grabbing an x-acto knife instead. Most of the time, I don't realize those things are happening until afterwards. I still find myself not knowing where I am or why I'm there or what's been going on for the past several hours. I still find myself having meltdowns in this bloody bedroom because I STILL have to watch out for hacks, every morning, every afternoon, every night. I can't bathe, can't be in a room alone, can't sing, can't hear my given name, without massive harmful dissociation. I went to my trans* group meeting last week, someone said I came across as "hypervigilant," everyone else nodded as if they had been wanting to say the same. I laughed, in disbelief, because that's still happening? And it's something others can see? Then ten minutes later, someone made an offhand joke about sex and I found my vision blurring out, found time starting to slide away, realized my entire body had frozen up solid. I didn't react, I just automatically shut off. And I realized that this is why I can't hold a job. This is why we're struggling to pay bills and buy food. Because for some godforsaken reason we're still in pain. Our psyche is still a mosaic of bruises and scars and tears. And until that does heal completely, we're going to need help to get through this, whether I like it or not.
But I am so ashamed of surviving on people's goodwill that I am mortified to ask for donations, or open commissions, because the very act of my getting money feels like stealing. I am sick of taking from people, even if they give of their own volition, I still consider it thievery because I don't feel I'm giving anything back.
I think it's because I'm so completely emptied out at this point. I can't quite give back if I don't quite have the spoons or the strength to give to myself most days. Heck, cleaning up this body and eating are tough enough. And I loathe saying that, but it's true. Again, to give one of the most frequent examples, I can't go into bathrooms for longer than two minutes tops, or the hack threats resume, or the angry voices start, or I get awful panic attacks. And since the kitchen is the only remaining 'safe space' in the house at this point, I end up in there far too often, surrounded by things that make me ill, by noise, by the guarantee of dissociation. If Genesis isn't around I'll probably end up in a disaster scene within ten minutes, so to speak. It takes me 3 or more hours to eat my one meal, every single day, because it is so, so difficult to stay conscious in the process. If Emmett doesn't take charge, or if Spice isn't barking orders, then the problem might be compounded by the 7+ hours of gut-wrenching pain that we've unfortunately become so used to enduring afterwards. And we can no longer resort to the old bulimia cure, because now that is causing horrible pain, to the point where I literally cannot sleep. Yes, that's why we've been awake until 4AM lately. That and the nightmares. The pain follows me into my dreams you know, and then there's a whole other sort of pain I need to pray for deliverance from.
Really, I've been physically sick, for a while. I'm so lucky that my grandparents pay me back for my support and errands by buying me vegetables to eat, but that doesn't guarantee that I'll always have food around. I haven't had much lately, especially not with the eating disorder resurgence, so I've been living off foods that make me ill. Quite ill, actually, to the point where I can't sleep from the pain and nausea. And it's dumb, because I know I'll get sick, but the stress and the anxiety are making me not care until the consequences hit and then I just 'numb out' and wait until morning. Plus in that state of mind I think, "I don't deserve to eat healthy things, I need to eat the unhealthy things so no one else suffers instead." So I won't take care of myself on purpose, in the weird conviction that "someone else will benefit." But they don't. No one benefits from this pain. Even worse, this commission planning thing has made it spike; the anxiety and depression are the worst they've been in months. What do I do.
I want it to stop. I really do. I'm sick of this.

In any case, I want to get a job just so I can have some income to pay people back, and so I can buy my own safe food and stop stealing my family's. They deserve so much good for what they've done for me. I owe them so much already. I just... don't know what to do. Can't hold a retail or grocery job at this point, can't seem to get enough guts to draw. I cannot tell you how many horrible times I've considered more morally decrepit options for obtaining money. It's never been serious though; thank God. It just goes against my nature... and even if that became too numb to care, Infinitii and Laurie and Genesis and Xenophon are the loudest protestors whenever I end up in a bad place. They'll bodily drag me out of there if they have to. They've done it before. God knows I need them to not give up on me now.

And yet, do you notice? I talk about this nonsense and don't do much about it. I'm miserable, I don't want to be miserable, and yet I am STILL standing at that inexplicable bridge, the one that reaches into health and happiness, refusing to cross. Why? Because I'm scared. I'm scared that when I finally set foot in those blessed flowering pastures, they will catch fire, and burn to ash at my feet.
I'm terrified, utterly terrified, that I am incapable of holding health and abundance and good fortune without turning it into malice.
It's stupid. It really is. But it's an old, tangled, frightening problem, and it is inextricably linked to this D.I.D. problem. Hence my utterly ignoring headspace again lately, no matter how utterly detrimental that is.


This entry is shaping up to be longer than I have time for. I'm very tired and I can't think anymore.
I have a meeting with my counselor tomorrow that will hopefully end in our scheduling a medical appointment of some sort for me. I've been pushing this stuff under the rug for too long and it needs to be taken care of.

Sorry for the depression word vomit. Maybe I'll delete this later, maybe I won't. I haven't hidden or deleted anything in a very long time. It's a nice feeling actually, to be so honest and open, on here at least. It doesn't hurt.

There's still a lot of very nice things to hope for and look forward too. I'll be sure to share those with you too.
Remind me to type about happy things tomorrow, and headspace, preferably both. Therapy is on Thursday (we didn't have any yesterday, last Thursday we discussed my huge memory gaps and tendency to forget very easily) and I want to make sure we're actually in sync with ourself for it this time, without some sort of trauma preceding it.

Have a lovely night, everyone. I will too, one way or another.

april 17

Apr. 18th, 2014 02:59 am
prismaticbleed: (drained)

I felt rather sick for most of today, but I spent the evening listening to Keane with Waldorf, making these silly things, and writing the massive dream entry from last night. So that was nice.

It was also Holy Thursday, so mass was a mix of two things: one, me getting giddy as a 5-year-old over the THURIBLE (I freaking love those things and they smell amazing), and two, me feeling like a seven-year-old when the altar was quietly packed away, and everyone quietly processed out of the church into the cold night. Every year, there is such a strong childhood memory of that event, I don't know why... it's like time never changes on Holy Thursday. I always feel the heavy weight of that Last Supper and the knowledge of impending betrayal and death. The church becomes quiet and dark, with only candles giving light to the small golden sepulchre that will not be opened again until Easter is upon us, and as soon as I go home I feel like a child again, standing in that yellow light as I get into pajamas, knowing that there are two days of deep sadness yet to endure until the lilies and bells break through the dawn.
I have trouble telling apart the vibes of Christmas and Holy Week, even though they're very different when you get down to it. Still, it must be the significance and the holiness that feels so familiar in them both.
Oh. Also, tonight was the foot-washing bit during mass, which really struck a chord with me again because the act requires humility and grace for both parties involved. To genuinely act of such service to another, you cannot be self-loathing, and you cannot be proud either... but you can't be either of those things if you're letting someone wash your feet either. It's a surprisingly meaningful action-- people tend to look down on their own bodies, and I've noticed that many people in today's society are just not comfortable with such a simple but oddly intimate action as having another person care for your health like that. I think that's why I'll never forget that one night, when Laurie wordlessly cleaned up my soaking-wet face after I had sobbed for an hour... no haughtiness, no condemnation, no disgust, no glory. Just sincere compassion and care, and the ability to act on it without fear. Her doing that was so significant that for that moment, I didn't feel ugly and shameful either. I didn't chase her away or put myself down. It just was. It's hard to put into words but that is something I NEED to remember, as I still have a problem with accepting AND giving love due to this weird lingering self-condemnation. "I'm not worthy, I'm filthy, I'm shameful..." When you think that way, you do a lot more damage than you realize, I've learned.
Anyway. Headspace doesn't think like that. Central doesn't have that sort of mindset. So, of course, this year the gang decided "let's actually do that foot-washing thing because we're based on compassionate service too." It took me entirely by surprise at first, everyone was getting along fine and some people were even teasing each other about it (notably Waldorf and Nathaniel, no surprise)... but I was shocked to find that some part of me was ashamed of it? And not in the way you'd think-- I'd seriously take care of anyone in headspace without complaint at the slightest notice, but I couldn't stand the thought of having someone do the same for me, because I thought I was "too filthy," and I'd taint them in the process. Which is nonsense, but it's still an old program. Well obviously they knew I was thinking this, so then they dragged me into it, which is what made me realize that entire above bit. And I still felt so utterly ashamed of myself-- of having a body, of existing as a physical being-- that I didn't want anyone else so much as touching me, let alone trying to care for me even in such a simple way. That realization hurt terribly when it still hit me in that context, but despite its sting, it still took a lot of guts for me to man up & chill out enough to accept compassion from someone else-- and of course everyone insisted I pair up with CZ for that, the one person I am terrified of because of that mindset, because I know he loves me and that doesn't change by how low my opinion of myself is, because he doesn't agree. Therefore I cannot hold that mindset when he's around without feeling massive dissonance, but it's scary to love myself at all when I'm still weirdly convinced that I'm inherently wrong or corrupt, and self-love will somehow make that worse.
It aches, to notice that I've been doing that for so long and everyone knows it. At least now it's conscious. I'll make that my biggest goal for this year. That's my biggest obstacle.
...Julie struggles with it too, still, now that I think about it. It's why she still doesn't like to stick around. Maybe we should work together.

In other news there are few things in the world more comforting than the light and heat from a candle flame, especially when you're tired and your bones are still cold from the wind. Even a tiny tea candle is the loveliest thing in that moment.

Now I'm very tired and I likely will not be anywhere near a computer tomorrow, but I'm still typing up an entry or two from around the 6th (it's rather confusing) so that'll be up here as soon as it's done. Just letting you know.
Nevertheless, Easter always has a big impact on headspace so there will be a big update sometime before Monday, mark my words.
Until then, I'll be seeing you.

 



 

 

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 ♥)

 

 

washed out

Feb. 6th, 2014 10:04 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

 


I keep getting odd waves of sadness/pain, realizing how much I've lost over the past two years, oddly in a material sense. It's probably because I dislike owning things unless they hold a great emotional and/or spiritual significance to me, and... well. Most of that stuff got thrown out or given away during our past two-three suicidal phases, apparently. I wasn't around then so it's still shocking to me, to look for things and then hear "oh yeah... someone junked that two years ago, bro."
I dunno. It's weird, to be getting legitimately distraught because "I no longer have this bit of art" or "I no longer have this game." Silly, right? But that art was an expression of people and ideas I dearly loved. That game held years worth of memories and personal growth. Now it's gone, suddenly and shockingly, and it feels like a punch in the gut.
Not sure how to heal this, but I'll have to.

Also. There are too many massive psychological triggers tied to two certain people I used to know. Why is that?
It's freaking me out, because it's all "fear of abuse" reactions and yet I don't think they ever harmed me? Was it just their close imitation of those situations? I don't have an answer to that, either. But some deep, damaged part of me is still crying and whimpering like a frightened child, every time I'm reminded of either of them. They have somehow become two of the "scariest" people I know, despite their allegedly harmless histories... and that disturbs me greatly.
Sorry, just thinking out loud with this.

 



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@ 11:33 pm

 

 

tw: self-abuse, depersonalization.

 

 

no idea what i'm writing

 

The numbness sticks to my bones like diseased fog.
I don't remember when it first showed up. Only that it keeps coming back, day after day, night after night, suffocating, entrenching me in its impassible, unfathomable blankness.
I can't remember the friendships. I can't remember the struggles, the victories, the joys, the tears. I can't remember the love. All I can remember is the loss, because it's been shackled to my ankles for as long as my memory can reach backwards. All I can remember is nothing.

 

There are photographs. There are blurry, distorted images and sounds choked under ancient layers of bloodied bandages and hands pressed tightly against our ears. There are pieces, smudges, flashes, ruins. I can only view them as if from a great distance, from somewhere in the gap between heaven and hell, from a place incapable of ever reaching either extreme anymore.

 

Perhaps this is better. Perhaps I need to be razed to the ground, burnt to ashes, scoured until I am raw and bleeding, bones and little else, not a carcass but a shattered skeleton to be reshaped, repainted, reborn. Maybe that's what this is.

 

I won't lie. It is jarring, like a mother's fist connecting with our face. It is frightening, like the voices that never seem to go away. And it is heartbreakingly, terribly real, the knowledge that emptiness can only exist if there was SOMETHING to precede it.

 

It's sick.
I miss the suicide attempts. I miss the screaming and sobbing. I miss the arms sawed wide open at 3am, at the yawning sepulchres painting our borrowed, tainted, alien skin. I miss having some sort of comparison, some sort of caustic awareness of life-- the terror that brought existence into sharp focus under fluorescent lights, reflected solid and real against reddened metal.
All I have now is a dead-eyed hollowness, that horrible fog. I find myself running numb hands over my face, trying to feel like I'm in it for once, trying to comprehend what the words body and breathing and awake and real mean. Numbers on clocks slip and glitch, jumping hours in moments, skipping days in seconds. I'm never quite sure what my name is. I'm never quite sure what a name is.

 

The bad voices that haunted the childhood still scream and condemn. Every day is a battlefield, every action riddled with fear from their constant shrieking, from their words of damnation and pompous hatred. I can't remember a time when I wasn't trying desperately to bow to their whims, terrified of choosing on my own, after one too many disobediences ended in sheer horror. I don't know what it's like to make my own choices in life.

 

Someone still believes that this body is the devil incarnate and until that belief is released, we are all going to remain here in hell.

 

I don't know what I'm writing anymore.

 



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

 


@ 11:44 pm

 

So I beat the Pokemon League in Y today.
It was a very emotionally moving experience for me personally... not only do I get really fond of my Pokemon, but I also tend to "melt into" games as I play them, as my self-identity is rather fragile and fluid, making it very easy to feel as if I am literally my player character in a game (not just psychologically; it's like I'm THERE).
I'll write about that another time though. Suffice to say it was quite the experience, and I was on cloud nine by the time we became the new Champion.
Then after the League we had to fight AZ.
Long story short, I used my dear Florges and my beloved Aegislash, because I felt it was fitting... not just because the former was what AZ's Floette could have eventually become, but... also because I adore my ghost sword just as much as this guy adored his little fairy, really.
So we won, and he smiled in understanding, and I really felt the significance of that...
...and then we got THIS cinematic.

 

I won't even lie, I was in tears.
Sharing it here without further comment because I don't want to forget this.

 



 

 

012214

Jan. 22nd, 2014 11:39 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 


A three word update:

 

We're still alive.

 

The archives are back. Someone deleted them last Tuesday, and tried to delete this page too. Jay held them off, and brought things back today.
We're not sure who this person is inside, who keeps trying to abandon all of us in one fell swoop, but we will have to band together more strongly as a community if we want to prevent that in the future. It seems they only strike when we fade enough for them to consider us utterly nonexistent, and therefore irrelevant. But our lives have meaning too.
...A certain someone left a long message in our inbox concerning all of this, which we are currently reading. We want to thank you, sincerely, for every one of these words. This means so much, truly.

 


Things have been quiet lately. It's a sort of empty-field quiet, where nothing moves forwards or backwards.
We have therapy tomorrow, and we want to dedicate that entire day to reconnecting on the inside. We've all been badly shaken up since the holocaust in December, and it looks like we need to literally stitch ourselves back together, by hand, little by little. It needs to be a group effort, compassionate and persistent. We're still somewhat bloodied up on the inside, true, but we know how to heal those wounds now, so they won't scar anymore.
We're doing a great deal of rebuilding. Places, relationships, roles... all of it. It's work. But it's the most worthwhile work there is. There has been great, great progress so far, which is shocking, when we realize it has only been three weeks.
There are few lingering troubles, surprisingly. The ones that have stayed, are old, to the point of us often being "blinded" to them. (You get used to some things after a while, even if they are actively malevolent.) Our tasks now will be healing those.
But the hells of the past several years seem to be gone. And that fills us with more gratitude than we can really express, ever.

 

 

It's late, and I don't know what else to say at the moment, other than we are well, and taking small steps forward again.
Thank you, all of you, for your support, even if it is simply watching us and reading. It gives us great hope and joy.
I hope this update is sufficient.
Until next time.

 

-A.P.

 

 

dec 21

Dec. 21st, 2013 07:50 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


Just personal rambling, don't mind me.

 

I hate how going out in public is difficult as all heck, when something as simple as being bumped in the arm by a stranger can cause a total dissociative trance.
At least that's somewhat better than someone like Overload or Algorith coming out and attacking them. It's happened before. At least now they're becoming aware of the repercussions.

 

Old women kept bumping into us in church today, and it was so psychologically jarring that David started wailing and we could barely hold him back inside. Knife tried to comfort him-- "you're safe with us"-- but David surprised us by saying he knew that, but he still wanted to cry. The things he was scared of were out there, not in here... and he wanted to express his pain and fear, to ask for safety, to shed tears on the outside without people telling him to behave or shut up.
It was heartbreaking, to have to tell him that we didn't have that luxury where we were.
So David cried inside, and I assume the AP drove home because I don't remember anything much after that.

 

It's scary, how few things we can do safely anymore. Daily self-care and maintenance is near-impossible when the body itself is viewed as a murder weapon. Even though it might intrinsically be harmless, those cells hold terrible memories that we can't seem to bleed out, memories tied to abusers that reside inside this cage of bones with the rest of us. Paranoia doesn't quite die when the risk never quite goes away.
The roots of fear are so deep, I wonder if we can even get them out now without massive damage.

 

I know people have it far worse than us. I know, and it makes me personally feel crushed by guilt for complaining about something so picayune. And yet it happens, and it is frightening.

 

Next month is hopefully hospitalization. Until then we will survive.

 



 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

 

this is the fragment

we just had a hack it attacked javier

he was so traumatized by it he committed suicide
we did not know until now

he is dead, he is dead

algorith wants to atone, she was disgusted
knife said no, the body gets sick from cutting now, we cant
algorith said then refuses to do this anymore

she tried to commit suicide on the body

laurie stopped her, they fought, laurie barely won out

brought us here, what do we do

javier is dead and algorith wants the body to die
so that we never have to deal with these situations ever again

i do not blame her

we had hope this morning but now what?
if the hacks dont stop
if we keep destroying the body with the eyes closed
what do we do

this is no way to live

 


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

 

 

@ 10:04 pm

 

 

all right look im sorry i know people dont like to think about this either.

 

but weve been in hell for two hours and algorith keeps trying to swallow pills and the numb people keep coming out because people KEEP TOUCHING US and the kids are screaming and there are STILL VOICES THAT ARE TRYING TO MAKE IT WORSE

 

i hate this i hate this why wont it stop STOP TRYING TO KILL US FROM THE INSIDE OUT JUST STOP

 

i am going to try a crisis chatroom?? maybe?? the last time it made things so much worse it made so many voices mad mad mad

 

oh here i am sorry

 

listen i think maybe someone needs to talk to someone, i dont know, i cant do it im not allowed to see that. but people are hurt bad and a lot of people are crying and some people are dead.

 

THERE ARE ABUSIVE PEOPEL IN THIS SYSTEM AND THEY WONT GO AWAY WHAT DO WE DO???
THIS ISNT A COPING MECHANISM IF THE TRAUMA KEEPS HAPPENING ON THE INSIDE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING PLEKASE MAKE THEM STOP.

 

please we are too angry and sad and scraped out and hurt to fight anymore please someone make them go awy and stop hurting us please. please please please stop them.

 

 

what do we do, suicide isn't an option, it's not an option, even if the hopeless ones keep trying. we can't do it it's wrong
we have the means. its so easy. but we can't, it would be mass suciide and that isnt fair.

 

still, it is also not fair for us to have rapists and murderers living in our head too and we cant run from them. and they take over the body and kill people they dont like inside. and it is really hard to stop them from hurting people outside too. it is very scary, to have to lock ourselves inside the hoiuse all the timebecause going outisde means hey! we might really hurt somebody because we didnt know they were out!! it is scary and no way to live, to be your own worst enemy, because you are not the only person driving the body.

 

what to do. thursday is therapy again. we think we will demand hospitalization we cannot wait any longer anymore

 

sorry for this stupid ranting

 

IT'S NOT STUPID DAMN IT I DONT CARE IF NO ONE TALKS TO US I AM SAD!!! AND USUALLY I AMNEVER SAD BUT TODAY I AM!! BECAUSE IT DOEST STOP AND I WANT IT TO STOP OKAY PLEASs.e

 

okay its not dumb but its sad. sorry we chansed sylvain out hes a manager the kind of people that keep things neutral we cant do that now it would hurt more.

 

not bleeding enough, trying to figure out how more, but is tat bad? not want to keep cutting deep an dlblood everywhere. no stitches cant get stitehces not good. locked away again not good/

 

what are we doing why is this going on tumblr WHY
desperate for help, desperate for help

 

you can only talk to a wall for so many years

 

bye.

 


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

 

 

@ 10:22 pm

 


 

we are in pain.
we cannot distract ourselves from that pain.

why we aer in pain:
1. people touching us. we are scared. most of us do not say no.
boy one: "hold still and let them do what they want. it will be over soon."
he is scared but too scared to fight back. i think he feels he has no right to stand up for himself. "other people know better." yes he might be scared but "what if my being scared is BAD? or WRONG?" that is a dangerous mindset, but he has it.


2. people raping us from the inside
i am sorry for the bad language but thats what it is!! there are bad people inside our head who do that to us.
there is a girl doing it. at least one. she is bad, very bad, because


This is Sherlock.
I think there are two little boys like Sylvain (the "vanilla boy"). Sylvain is about 11 years old, and acts as a "neutral fronter" when traumatic situations happen. He is kept separate from the data, and fronts simply to keep things in "standby," so to speak.
However, now there is this boy, who is currently typing? He is not the same boy as the one we call Sylvain. This is unusual. Perhaps they split, or there were always two, and we assumed there was only one.
Unfortunately, now we are very confused as to who we are speaking to. I will have to go through the archives and find data on both these children, if there indeed are two. It seems to be a strange phenomenon, that typing voices suffer drastic personality alterations when fronting, so perhaps this is occurring instead. I do not know why this is, but I should find out. Perhaps it is the "buffer," or if I may postulate, perhaps it is Jessica, barring us from totally inhabiting the body. I am not sure whether or not she is tied to the automatic buffer. Nevertheless that is off topic.

Let me continue where the last boy left off.
There is indeed a sexually abusive voice in the System, that we have not previously been this clearly aware of. She is female, and bears a disturbing resemblance to the body host, as far as we are able to tell (long brown hair, appears about 17). She is a significant threat to all of our members, especially the trauma voices, because of her utterly intolerable behavior. This evening, there was an instance of traumatic physical touch that caused Marigold and the Overload girl (or so I think; she was not the same girl that hates the parents; this is the young long-haired girl that does nothing but scream, like a siren, in danger situations) to begin shrieking in terror. At the same time, the body was inhabited by the "dead red" boy, whose eyes strongly resemble these glasses from the Ava's Demon webcomic. (Notably, I was previously unaware of the Black-energy-like "leakage" from her eyes upon wearing said glasses until now. That may pose some relevance to us, considering how strongly our inner world is impacted by imaginative sources.) Unsurprisingly, the red boy was not fighting back, instead waiting in terror for the incident to end.
However. There was then a second voice, behind him, trying to break through. This is the female voice I am speaking of. If you will pardon my vulgarity, she was loudly taunting the woman that was touching us, saying-- and I quote, I do not approve this behavior in the least-- "come on, f*ck me already, I know you want to!" Keep in mind this was spoken by a teenage girl to an elderly woman, and it was spoken with a mocking sort of malicious mania. That is important. This girl was not simply taunting, she genuinely meant that statement. She wanted that, both for her own desires, AND because it would harm those trauma voices she was shouting over. And that is a massive concern, to me. I do NOT want someone like her in the System.
This is strange. I'm just a data manager. Yet I feel protective. Maybe there is leakage. Maybe I am changing. I can't be sure.


"allow the pain to be acknowledged" then "let the tears flow so that you may heal fully"
but how??
there are no tears, it is empty! the pain has left it hollow, there is nothing, nothing
but it is not a depressed nothing. it is an unreactive nothing.
that is scary actually
it is a nothing taht says "why should i care? i have no pain. that event does not affect me emotionally."
and they mean that, it is true for them.
BUT SOMEONE DIED
SOMEONE LITERALLY DIED TODAY, THEY KILLED THEMSELF BECAUSE OF THE PAIN THEY COULD NO LONGER HANDLE
THAT IS HORRIBLY SAD
AND THAT VOICE DOESN'T CARE?!?!??!?!

why did he kill himself? this was the third time they used him for a hack, but why did he commit suicide
did he feel he was unable to rise above that or what?
maybe. its not true, not really, but maybe he didnt see that
its very hard to see on days like this.

those bad people are fake. the things they do are malicious on purpose, to hold us back. but they do not work from love so they are not real, not in the big picture.
still we need to acknowledge our pain, and we ARE, but some of us feel none, and that makes it confusing.


"the pain IS the illusion, I am not stating that the pain is not real, what I am stating is that the pain needs to be HEALED by being ACKNOWLEDGED and not by being distracted from."

"you are TAUGHT to hide your pain and carry on regardless. This works to anchor the pain more deeply as you do not allow the pain to fully rise to the surface and be acknowledged for all that the pain NEEDS to be released is to be acknowledged. "

ah okay THAT we ARE having trouble with. "hiding our pain."
someone today was so sad, so sad, but wouldnt tell anyone about it! because they were so afraid of hurting someone else by asking for help. but it was so sad, seeing them want love and healing, just wanting someone around that wouldnt hurt them, and finding no one willing to help.
i mean its great to be able to heal alone. but human contact is needed sometimes, non-traumatic contact, the non-physical sort. words of assistance help greatly. but this person is afraid to ask. "i dont want to burden anyone. i must deal with this alone."

Child, you do not need to deal with this alone, we will all help you if you would only ask.
You do not need to look outside your soul for help. We are all here with you. Your soul is connected to many others. Turn to them. They love you. We love you. And we will always be willing to help raise you up from the shadows, not in ignorance of them, but because we do not need to stay there.


Kid, the light isn't all that far from the shadow, look at Infi for heaven's sake, remember what you told me about Island today. Suffering through this darkness won't ruin you, it CAN'T, that's not how this whole thing WORKS.
Today was horrifying. I won't deny that. But kid, even if I don't understand it very well right now, "beauty and horror" still applies. The existence of one doesn't negate the other. "This too shall pass" and all that. Hold on, kid. Even in this Tar-blackened nightmare there's still some sort of light on the horizon and for the life of me it's impossible but it's
true.

there is love, even now, and you must hold on to it, in your heart.
it is not untrue. it is the truest thing you will ever find.
all of you. all you faceless ones. all you nameless ones. jay too.
every single one of you.
remember love. hold fast to love.
not the kind that is marketed to you by the trauma voices in here. they are liars, for they do not understand.
but do not hate them.
do not hate them.
give them no attention. focus on your own healing and true health.
if i may be any hope to any of you, remember that i am love as well. we all are.
the fact that i am made of the same energy as them speaks volumes.
forget black and white. think beyond that.
that is all i have to say. words are insufficient.
my arms are always open for anyone who may reach out to me.
i wish love well to all of you.



I think perhaps I will close this entry. It is quickly becoming... I do not know if there is a word. Cluttered, perhaps, but not badly so. Overwhelming, yes, but not badly so.
This is an important topic.
One last clarification. I recall this being labeled as important earlier today but no one mentioned it yet.
Do not give your power away. We should not say "they made me feel this." I know the angry voices do this.
The point is, we have a choice. We can react to them, and give them power over us. Or we can leave. We can remove ourselves from the situation if things become too traumatic. Or, in relevant situations, we can recognize that our triggers apply to the past, and we are in no danger currently. The numb and damaged voices are incapable of doing this yet. But they can learn. I'm sure. It would benefit all of us, to learn how to protect ourselves, instead of succumbing to violence and pain because we feel powerless against it, and do not fight back.
I'm not sure what I am trying to communicate. Simply... we are not responsible for them, and they do not control us, nor are we obligated to obey every suggestion of theirs. That is all, I suppose.


"All the methods that brought us to where we are now, will no longer work in where we are going to be."
I was told the other day to stop being so logical and analytical, as those methods will indeed no longer work in the near future. Ironically, I am willing to change. On some level that is perhaps not as "logical" as I may like to think, I understand that refusal to beneficially change, because of doubt or fear, will only hold me back. So I am willing to change, completely if I must, if it be for the better of both my own personal self, and those I share a physical form and mind with.
I must endeavor to tell the others this, if they do not already know. We have a long history, that will no longer apply soon. That is all I know. In a way it is unsettling, as I know that these Archives before me may soon become irrelevant. But at the same time it is exhilarating, to be able to leave all that behind.

I will close this entry now. I am sorry if anything that needed to be discussed was not. I will try to organize some data for tomorrow if it is relevant. Otherwise that is all for today.


 

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

 

 

 

 

 



nov 26

Nov. 26th, 2013 11:48 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 


Rambling ahead, probably will be deleted in the morning.

 

I'd say I love being alone, but when headspace is silent it's the worst feeling in the world.
Yes, there's always writing work to do. That's great, and I love it. But I can only do that for so many days before I realize I've forgotten how to be a person. Creative work turns me into a total channel; empty and pure, capable of letting any idea move through me, but incapable of interacting with any living thing.
For most of the past, that was the norm. I never spoke to the people I wrote about, I never had a solid identity of my own. But when that began to change, suddenly, around 2003, I'll admit it looks like I became addicted at first. I didn't know how to handle it, and it was euphoric. Suddenly there were other people inside (nice ones, for once!) that I could TALK to! And at first, the periods of downtime were crushing. Now that I knew what it was like to NOT be lonely, I was suddenly aware of what loneliness actually WAS.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here. Honestly I'm guessing; those memories are distant and vague. All I can say is how I feel now, looking at them, someone else's life.

Even so I still don't know how to deal with daily life, or physical reality, or tangible people. It's overwhelming and scary for me. I need lots of space, I need lots of silence, I need the ability to run away when I feel trapped. But I also need to know that there's somewhere to run BACK to.
I've been alone for a long, long time, it feels like. It's sad. I'm not sure why I'm saying any of this. It doesn't quite make sense.
Whether I like it or not, people need people. But the only people I've ever truly known are "upstairs." And it's been getting harder to find them.
I guess the bottom line is, I'm tired and lonely and I miss people. Nights like this everything is quiet and I'm stuck literally walking in circles for hours and I don't hear anyone. Is that better? Is that worse?
I'm sick of forcing myself into trauma just to hear people shout at me. I'm so sick of this stupid ache that drives me in dangerous directions, just to feel like my existence is acknowledged. That's selfish. I shouldn't need or want that. And yet there it is.
Tonight, I am lonely, and sad, and a little afraid.
I'm trying to be 100% okay with the silence and emptiness. But that's tricky, when it feels like that once-holy quiet is now denying me of any possibility of connecting with others as a person in my own right.
I can be alone. That's easy. Just take out the "I can," and be nothing.
The days when I can't do that are the difficult ones.

 

-Jay (empty mode, sorry)

 



 

 

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH INFINITII ETERNOS MR. SANDMAN JAY IRIDOS


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

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

Pre what? You mean mistranslation?

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


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


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


Jay.


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


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


I know. Do we have a topic?


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


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


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

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


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

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

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


Okay. Drop the pitch.


Just did. We good to go now?


Channel. Not… what is the word?


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


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


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


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


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


Touches, especially. That is what set this off.


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


Why
all of them?





Shoot.


Is he awake?


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


J, can you hear me?


…No, guess not.


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


How the heck would we do that?


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


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


I can make one.


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


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


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


Possibly. I'd think so.


Nice shootin', Tex.


Thank you.


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


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


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


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


Yeah, you and me both. So. Trauma?


Always. And, that seems to the be problem.


"Always trauma," heh, pretty much.


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


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


What happened?


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


Rorschach?


How the blood do you know about Rorschach?


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


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


About?


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


So he was upset?


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

Ah. So what was the second snapshot?


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

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


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


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


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

You said that.


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


Hm. And you say that was 2008?


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


So 5 years.


At least.


That's a long time.


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


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


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


Did they front for long?


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


Made sense though.


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


Should we talk about that?


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


Uh, right here.


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


…I don't recall. I'm sorry.


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


…The robe.


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


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


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


No we didn't.


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


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


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


About J?


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


He's never around when they happen.


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

Or the soul.


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




Hey, you okay?


Yes. No. It's odd.


Yeah, I hear that from J all the time.


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


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

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


With?


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


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


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


Good point. So where were we?


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


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


Does she? Is that the same girl?


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


Hm. Is she tied to trauma too, then?


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

Is she just hypervigilant?


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

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


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


You having trouble too?


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

Is that what he's doing??


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

So it's a legitimate fear.


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

How so?


Kid, the hacks keep on bloody happening.


But you realize that not everything is a hack attempt.


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

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


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


Same amount.


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


I've noticed.


Heh, have you really?


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


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

I see.


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

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


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


It cuts off.


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

You said that person said they had no free will.


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


It is.


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

Which one?


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


Somebody's angry.


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


I am.


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


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


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


Haha, you're still reeling from that?


Did you just
laugh?

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

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

Sorry.


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


Better than being upset all the time.


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


Yes. I wish it wasn't so.


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


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


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


Hello!


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

Hello, Sandman.


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


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


My Apprentice? Is he doing well?


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


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


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

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


What else could it be?


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


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

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


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


Of?


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

I have heard. Unfortunately.


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

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


I am not tired so much as I am heartbroken.


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


On?


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

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

I know. I know. It worries me too.


…He said something recently about "liking things?"


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


With me?


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


Intrusive thoughts.


Yeah. You know about those?


What sort of intrusive thoughts?


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


That is a rather severe intrusive thought.


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


Why?


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

Mm-hmm. That is common.


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

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


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


And you say this is affecting me because…?


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

No it's not, Laurie.


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


So does he splinter?


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


Hm.


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


So it is.


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


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


How do you mean?


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


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


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


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


You're quite welcome, Laurie. Infinitii?


Hm?


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


I already am.


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


Whoa whoa, wait, what??


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


…How do you mean, Boss?


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

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


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


I will.


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


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


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


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

He can
eat them, you say, child?

Yeah, is that a problem?


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


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


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

How am I important  to you?


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

Yeah, we kind of spoke about that last time.


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


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


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


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


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


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


Thank you, Sandman.


Thank you both, as well. Good night.


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


He seems to have a way of knowing.


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


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


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


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

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


Why's that?


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


The "when" is key, I think.


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

I think you do, Laurie. Awareness is yours.


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


You wouldn't touch it anyway?


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


Like he was yesterday.


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


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


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

Why so?


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


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


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


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


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


I didn't say sober.


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

My point is, the door is always open…


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


Would you be laughing if that wasn't true?


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


Thank you.


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


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


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


Emotionally?


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


Yeah. That was frightening, actually.


You never seen anything like that either?


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

Oh. Shoot.


Yes, exactly. Not good.


No, I guess not.




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


I thought you don't sleep.


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

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


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


That worries me.


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


How is he splintering up
here?

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

Hm. I guess you're right.


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


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


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


Ah.


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


No, no it does't.


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


No, and please don't offer to demonstrate.


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


Do you?


No, I am literally repeating what he told me.


Heheh.


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


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


What about the Plague?


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


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


But… didn't they use spiritual egotism?


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

Did she really believe that.


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

What is there to talk about?


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

I see what you're getting at.


Yeah.


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


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


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


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

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


Has he ever done that
before, though?

…I don't know.


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


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


He didn't freak out yesterday, did he?


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


…Shoot. Good point.


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


You think you missed it?


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


Yeah, that parasite thing.


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


The heck, it
was?!

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


…Shoot.


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


…Yeah.


We are going in circles.


We usually do, on this topic. Man.


Do you want to close up for tonight?


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


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


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


In what sense?


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

He was shut down. Just as he was today.


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


Neither do I, Laurie.


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


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


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

He has been through more than all of us combined.


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


See?


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


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


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


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


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


No.


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


Maybe we shouldn't discuss this?


You think we're overthinking it or what?


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


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

He would forgive you.


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

They can't tell the difference.


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




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

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


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


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

Yeah.


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


You haven't got any bones, weirdo.


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


Heh. Go on, though.


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

I can imagine.


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


Heh. You got me there.


But you understand the difficulty.


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


'Overpassing?'


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


True. …Was that a joke?


Not intentionally, but why the heck not, sure.


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

You did, I saw him crying over there.


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

…So what the heck do we do now?


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


How?


I don't know.


Shoot. That makes two of us.


…Maybe we should close this up.


That's what you said, two pages ago.


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


Ironically.


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


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


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


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


Laurie.


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


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


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


Splinters?


Circles, holy flaming swords we need to quit.


Hehe.


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

Then don't.


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


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


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


It's difficult.


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


You watch out for those too?


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


What?


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


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


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


How to let go?


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


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


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


Yes.


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


It is. So should we close up?


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


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


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


Sorry. I had to.


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


Do you want me to close the session then?


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


Oh boy.


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


You were saying?


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

You sure?


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


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


… …??


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


…Infi?


Hey, nice to hear that voice again.


I think he's okay.


What happened?


You… let's not talk about it now.


Why not? are you hiding something from me too


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


oh. I hurt you did i.


No. …You came close.


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


We've been trying to figure that out actually.


is laurie drunk?


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


i can't walk.


Are you sure?


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


What?


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


Okay.


thankyou.


…You're welcome.


youre slipping.


A little.


Shoot, Infi's slipping??


whoa you woke up fast


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


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



The heck does that mean? Nightmares??


why would he be scared of nightmares


No, he--


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


jay please


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



mostly kind of just really tired keep talking


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


Geez, that explains a
heck of a lot.

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


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


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


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


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


no, barriers down, this is good.


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


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


…You remember Xenophon?


a little bit she was my daughter right?


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

little bit of both I think.


Holy swords.


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


Where everything is stored?


Yes.


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


i could do that


I don't know if I could.


Hey, no pressure dude, just saying.


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


What is, you?


Yes.


Why?


J. Like this.


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


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


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


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


Right now?


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


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


oh you mean when im awake?


Yeah, of course when you're awake--


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


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



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

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


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


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


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


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


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


okay goodnight


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


infi are you okay


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


you don’t seem sick


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


ohhh okay I know what that’s like


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


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


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


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


That's what I said.


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


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


But you're okay?


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


Why? The smiling?


Is it genuine?


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


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


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


Infi what the heck is going on.


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


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

 



 



nov 05

Nov. 5th, 2013 12:59 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

 

It is really frightening, how much of my life has crumbled into dust around me.
I had to stop reviewing the archives today because honestly, I was getting absolutely overwhelmed. I had 400+ entries to check for relevant data and I'm sorry, but with how my brain tends to short out with so many words, I just couldn't do it.
However I pushed myself as far as I could, and as a result I did find a great deal of important info. I was shocked when I realized how many events, how many motivations, how many instances of pain and healing alike were completely missing from my memory. Usually, when I used to read the archives, reviewing would refresh my recollections, allowing me to say "oh yeah, now I remember that happening!" Not so, not anymore. Now I look and read and I know that at some point I did do and think and feel and say those things... but that knowedge is secondhand, a result of seeing the data on a screen. On my own, I cannot remember it whatsoever, and that scares me.
What does it mean? What does life mean, when I seem incapable of remembering things anymore? I know you're supposed to "live in the present," but I feel there is a very fine line between that and infinite temporal loops. If you have no awareness of the past, you cannot grow, you cannot learn from it. You get stuck, forever, in a resetting timeframe, forced to constantly repeat the same events over and over because you don't remember the last time you lived through them. And it never stops. That is currently my life, to a very fair extent. It is frightening, and disturbing, and I want it to stop.


People are slipping lately, very badly. It's hard to tell who is who, in talking and fronting and feeling. Everything is a blur.
Either the "manic girl" or the "empty boy" have been fronting lately, as a result. The former comes out around people, more often than anyone else ever, but she has a terrible personality and none of us like her, due to how she actively harms us and does not care. The latter is more pitiable, as he constantly states that he's "so tired and just wants to sleep," saying that the "noise in his head is too loud," and therefore he "shuts it all out" and tries to sleep. But that is literally ALL HE DOES. He counts as a suicidal fronter for that reason, as he is absolutely hellbent on not living, not existing, but only sleeping. He does not want to exist as a person, and he spares no thought for us as a result.

Chaos and Laurie were talking to me on... Saturday night? I think. But it was sad because we went outside to look at the stars, and that was beautiful, and I was almost feeling things and I wanted to try and remember what I had lost but the body was so exhausted I literally could not keep it awake. But, when I woke up the next morning, Laurie asked me if I remembered what we had spoken about, what I had been feeling, anything... and I paused, reaching back to try and find that data, and found none. So I said no. And I have not seen her look so hopelessly resigned in years.
I'm afraid she's... I don't want her to be suicidal again. The first time was horrible. And isn't it weird, I don't feel anything when I'm typing that? It is literally just a data file. It's an intellectual recollection of what emotions were felt back in 2010. There is no feeling accompanying it in real time. I know, in my brain, that if Laurie died it would devastate me, it would tear me to pieces. And yet, even in knowing that, there is no emotion.
What is wrong with me??
I'm starting to wonder if this is why Nathaniel and Leon haven't come back yet, and virtually everyone else has post-reset. But they were the heart guy and the head guy. One for compassion, one for awareness. They were the sweetest guys in the System and where are they now? We know they're still alive, but for heaven's sakes why haven't they been able to re-manifest then? Are their anchors that badly damaged?? I know that headvoices aren't literally tied to energy centers but geez those two really reflected theirs, the heart and the mind, and guess which two used to be my strongest and which now feel like they're frozen shut?

I'm scared. Is that obvious? That's the closest thing I can 'feel' right now. A quiet sort of existential, moral dread. The small shivers along my shoulders and back, the mind slinking to the edge of dissociation, the childhood fear of divine punishment. And why that, you ask? Why the fear of punishment, of all things? But that's simple too: in some weird way, I am still convinced that this awfully pained psychological state of mine makes me an "irredeemable sinner." Ironically, my current spiritual beliefs make it worse. According to them, because I am feeling this pain and struggling to heal from pains I don't understand and am honestly afraid to face again, because I am still hurting from wounds in my soul, then that means that I am an "ego," and therefore I don't exist, and therefore I am destined by the will of God to be thrown out with the chaff, so to speak. So that's a lot worse than the childhood fear of hell! With that, I could at least pray and beg and cry for hours, asking God to please have mercy and save me, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, just don't send me there, I'll be better. With that I had hope. Now... now there is no hope left, because I believe that by virtue of my sinfulness, I AM NOT REAL. And I can't shake that weird perspective because now it makes "total sense" to me. And I am convinced that in the "new world," I will be forbidden from existing and therefore tainting it. So I will not die, I will be wiped from existence. Total annihilation, absolute nothingness. And in a really quiet, really hidden way, that scares the shit out of me. Deep down, that knowledge that if I cannot heal I will no longer exist AT ALL is very scary.
But like I said, there's no hope. There's no hope because to do so, I feel it would be exercising a "spiritual ego" and dragging other souls down with me. So I don't hope for deliverance, because if I don't exist, that can't happen anyway. And that is the worst part of it, because what do I do?
This isn't fun. I have to laugh, I say that whenever I'm really torn up about something. I try to joke about it, make it seem inferior and stupid. What does that say about my self-image, huh?

Chaos knows. I did talk to him today for a minute or so, without realizing I was doing so, because I keep forgetting that these things ARE literally happening; I don't even give credit to my own inner life being real, isn't that sick? I say "if I feel or think or intuit something, it must be fake, because it's 'internal' and therefore 'all in my head.'" And how ironic, I said I feel no emotions anymore, but I want to cry just looking at that sentence. Guess that hit a nerve. I'm so tired of feeling like I am OBLIGATED TO INVALIDATE MY OWN EXPERIENCES BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE THINKS THEY ARE VALID.
Like I said, Chaos knows. He's just as upset with me as Infinitii is, and personally, that is a very scary thing to me. I'm starting to think I am Borderline, stupid as it is, because I have every stupid symptom including this "I hate you don't leave me" thing which is a shallow lie because I ADORE them, but I am so scared of them because, thanks to this asinine PTSD... well. I don't want to think about that at this hour. However, it does tie into what CZ agreed with me on. I was saying I was sorry for being such a pain in the neck, for all the trouble I'd caused, etc. I said I knew I was a huge source of frustration and anger and dissapointment for people, but I didn't want to drag anyone else down anymore so I was keeping my distance. Anyway, as I rambled on about this, it hit me. Somewhere down the road, I forgot how to love myself. I know that's an old problem. But I literally cannot figure out how to love myself UNLESS I'm in third person perspective, and I'm "seeing myself" as SEPARATE from myself. I cannot love myself in first person, as the "person doing the experiencing." I honestly don't know how, and that is heartbreaking and terrible and frightening. I admitted that, incredulously, and Chaos just looked at me and said he knew that. He'd known that for a very long time.


I'm sorry, my laptop battery is about to die, I need to post this before it shuts off and I lose it again. Therapy is tomorrow, see you then.

 


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

 

@ 10:18 am

 

 

I haven't been updating my dream journal lately, but I have been remembering my dreams most every day, so that at least is good news.

I don't remember much about last night's dream, due to having had a very frightening night prior to falling asleep... but shockingly, that fact proved to be very significant.
Before falling asleep, I had spoken to my boss (Mr. Sandman), telling him that I was still getting awful nightmares and could he or Laurie do something about those? He said he would try. In any case he was incredibly kind and reassuring as usual and that did help. Unfortunately, about an hour after that, I had an extremely traumatic hack (those of you who follow our system updates know what those are), which my memory has already annihilated for the most part, thank God. But, for the first time in my life, that incident was apparently significant enough to affect my dream.
As I said, I unfortunately don't remember much of the dream upon awakening (something told me not to, so I let the memory fade), but one thing stands out: for the entire dream, I was aware that we had been hacked, and I kept meeting headvoices expressing the same thing, and/or trying to comfort me or each other. Seriously, that's the one thing I wish I could remember-- it has been rare for members of our system to show up in dreams, but I swear there were at least 4 or 5 people in this one! (I'm almost positive Lynne was one of them, which is notable as I've never seen her in a dream before.)
There is one clear memory I have though, and it is why I am updating this morning. Near the end of the dream, my bro and I were going to this mall that doesn't exist in real life, but which is a constant location in certain dreams-- up the hill to the right of our house. I think I had to drive there, but either way, I recall walking through it (it was virtually empty, again typical) to the exit, still feeling depressed and shaken, with someone shouting at me to either 'hurry up' or that I was 'breaking the rules' or the like. So I went outside to the car, and sat down in the driver's seat, just staring out through the windshield. However, Infinitii happened to be in the front passenger seat, and when I sat down next to him, looking so distraught, he simply moved closer and wrapped his arms and wings around me. I don't even know if he said anything; all I know is that that honest gesture was the most comforting thing I've felt in a very long time. So I just held him for a little while in silence, although I felt like crying, and although I know I woke up a few small minutes later.

I apologize for the lack of updates, but if this dream has shown me anything to that end, it's that our dreams are more relevant than I give them credit for. So I will try to be here more often.

 

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

 

@ 08:02 pm

 

 

 

So last week, we discovered that deep in the Underground there is a massive cistern, like the famous one in Istanbul (pictured above).
Razor seems to know her way around it, but we don't know if anyone else has dared to venture there alone. It's a disturbingly dangerous place, due to being so close to raw B/W energy levels. There are apparently things living in the water that we've been warned to stay away from.
Headspace sure is an interesting place to live, I'll say that much..

 



 

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

 SESSION PARTICIPANTS

LAURIE UBERICH JAY IRIDOS

102513 11:22 PM


Hey, kid. You wanted to talk?

Oh geez, yes, thank you for showing up, I'm sorry we have to do this in Word but I'm kind of desperate and don't want to gamble with either the Internet or Wordpress. And I have to use red text still 'cause it's easier to read than white.

That's fine, just talk.

So. Here we are.

Yeah. You still feeling sick?

Very.

…Shoot. I'm sorry kid, I don't know what the heck to do about this anymore.

What happened?

You were hacked. Obviously. Where'd you think you got the pain that you're in?

…I know. Hold on, someone's on FB messaging me.

Really? You're that bad that you're looking to talk to people? Come on, let me see this.

Okay, hold on. ..Aha, look who commented.

Branwen? Heck, isn't that what you thought the bear's name was?

Yeah. Not sure though, it's a shot in the dark and it obviously doesn't fit as he hasn't attached to it. But Laurie, I have such a headache, I'm nauseous and sick, I didn't think I could get this much pain from hacks anymore.

Well, guess what, you do. Sorry, that sounds callous.

No, it only looks that way. Written text doesn't translate facial expressions or verbal inflections, and you look really tired and sad right now.

I am. It's 'cause I am.



Are you?

No? But I feel like I should be, almost. I've got my surface-crackle glitter going on, but I can tell, even now, that it's a shiny surface hiding something very black and hurt and mangled. It's a sparkly cover tossed over something really scary to look at.

I know. That's why I'm asking. Where the heck are we going to post this?

I don't know, we'll find out. …Is Infi okay?

No. He's taking this much worse than you are, obviously.

How much worse? Do I want to know? I feel like throwing up, but that's about it…

I think he'd kill to throw up right now. He looks like he's literally losing his mind. I don't know what the heck happened, but he took it hard, and he's bloody terrified. He hasn't moved from Central, where you last saw him.

That's in Central?

Not the main room, but yeah. Effectively it's Central. But he's there, and the retributors are hanging around, if you were wondering.

I was, yeah. Why didn't they do anything?

I told them not to. I remembered what your therapist said. "No cutting if you can help it." But… really, it's tough not to at times like this.

Is that why I was in so much pain?

…Maybe. …man, I don't know, kid, I know just as much as you do and that's not a freakin' lot.

Who was responsible?

For what, the hack? I haven't got a bloody clue, kid, that's why we're all so scrambled over this.

Hm. Sorry, had a bit of a break there.

Yeah we did. Can we get back to talking though? I'm worried about you.

I'm having a little trouble getting back into the Xanga swing of things, but I'm trying.

Doesn't matter kid, we're talking, that's all that counts right now. I'll try to get straight into text instead of paraphrasing, aaite? That help?

It does. Thanks. Less mistranslation too, actually, wow.

I figured as much. It's a direct link. That's why it's so bloody difficult for you to "pass on" messages from us to your therapist in sessions. There's too much lost in translation.

Like the game of telephone!

Precisely. And that's not something you want happening in therapy. Anyway, that's not why we're here. How you feeling?

Still sick. I'm scared too, quietly, behind this smile. I didn't think this would happen.

None of us did, kid, that's why it's scary.

No, not just that, I mean… usually the brutal hacks are… I'm more used to those. They've been happening recently I think. I guess. But whatever happened today, all I know for sure is that it was quick, sudden, and excruciatingly painful. And that scares me, that the quick and quiet ones are the most damaging, the most horrifying in retrospect.

You said you knew it wasn't Infi.

For a second. I think for one second I got through, I felt wrong and weird, like I was half asleep, and I knew it wasn't Infi there. But then everything goes blank. And I know that whoever used our forms, it wasn't us. The only things I can access in that memory are that realization I just mentioned, one little instant, and then however longer later, suddenly Infi looking absolutely terrified and either holding his head or looking at his hands in shock? Maybe both. The only clear thing is the expression on his face. And it's scary, and it breaks my heart. But he knew too.

Knew what?

That it wasn't us. Entirely wasn't us. And we had… "lost," for lack of a better word. We'd been hacked. That's really all I can say. It speaks for itself.

It does. …Kid, are you leaving that guy hanging on Facebook?

Shoot, I think I am, sorry about that. Give me a second.

Sure.

Okay, no, he just said "damn" in response which, since it sounds like you, actually makes me feel somewhat better. Like I'm supported.

Kid, you're crazy.

Yet you're smiling as you say that. And not looking at me.

J how long has it been since you've actually been in here? Months?

…In here, meaning headspace? Xanga? A poor excuse for Xanga in Microsoft Word?

No, just… sheesh, anywhere. This is the first freakin' time we've spoken heart-to-heart in God knows how long.

Yeah, it really is.

Hey, by the way, d'you consider that irreverent? Y'know, that closing phrase.

No? I mean, it's casual, but I don't think anyone would label it blasphemy or anything, why?

'Cause I promised Christina I wouldn't use religious swears anymore. And she has a point. It's embarrassing really, that I still use them, 'specially since I don't know where the bloody things came from.


Programming?

Probably. Internalized nonsense. So I\'m trying to watch my translations and keep that from happening. Got it? Call me out if I slip up, okay?

Okay. Can't believe Christina's back, though.

Me neither. Probably needs to be though, that stuff seems to happen. People die, then they come back, and we realize that hey, they're probably pretty bloody important right about now. And she is, whether I like her or not, because of the poison she keeps spewing out every time she talks. Honestly, it's disturbing.

Like what?

Jewel, you heard her, that delusion about "only she knows what everyone else is supposed to do" in lieu of their own better judgment? It's the same nonsense your grandmother spat our for years. Same stuff. And it's still in her, except solidified into her now, and if we're gonna heal that… is there a better word for "garbage," because honestly I'm repeating myself.

It is what it is, I guess.

You bet it is. Absolute worthless garbage is what it is. "There's one right path for everyone and it's mine" basically. It's using religion as a power grab. People are individuals with free will and I'm sorry Christina, but every single human and non-human and whatever on this earth can't be a hypocritically Bible-banging mega-orthodox Christian, especially not by force, and especially since you're only being so forceful because you hate everything else. Yeah I've got a bone to pick with that mindset. People's lives, cultures, whatever-- they differ too much for that sort of homogenous demand. We differ too much for that, and that's FINE! Every person has their own path to walk, every seeking soul gets called by God towards God in different ways, and guess what? In the end we're all walking towards that one God whether she likes our not-so-starch-and-lacey company or not. I don't bloody get it. Why she can't accept that we still have faith if it doesn't look just like hers. She literally put her freaking fingers in her ears and "la la la"-ed over me when I was trying to tell her. I mean what the heck. …But my heart goes out to her though. Maybe I'm too much of a bleeding softie now, thanks kid, look what you've done to me. I feel bad for her because she's freaking terrified, to do that like she did. She's terrified that she's wrong, that her beliefs aren't set in stone, because what's she got if that falters? Nothing, I think. And that's scary.

It is.

But that happens, y'know? Beliefs change as life changes. They mature, they gain depth, they can change completely if you realize hey, I've been walking in the wrong direction! They're not supposed to be stuck in the dirt, rigid and unquestionable. But hers are. She's so convinced that she's the one who knows the sole truth, the absolute unchanging truth, that she doesn't realize that truth doesn't live in hearts of stone.
I don't care what someone's professed belief system is, if that soul is sincerely trying to find the greater truth and real meaning to life, if they're trying to find and know and worship God for God's literal sake, then even if they're not a Christian they are absolutely still headed in that ultimate direction-- towards the real Truth, the one that's bigger than you and by no means under your control. Her insistence that there's "only one way ever" is not only limiting EVERYONE around her, but it's also limiting HER. She's so convinced that she's "right" and everyone else is "wrong" that's she's not even LOOKING at God anymore. She's just trying to make everyone into a mirror of herself. And she can't freaking SEE THAT because she genuinely believes that being her religious clone is somehow MORALLY PROPER.


Geez, you're getting mad?

I'm just exhausted. Exasperated. Whatever, both. But you told me that once, kid, and it stuck with me. Viewing reality through the lens of such a tightly-held set of beliefs is going to color everything you see. Switch the lens and wow, holy swords, you can still see! But everything's got a different hue now! What the heck, right? But take the glasses off, and suddenly you realize that there are a lot more colors out there than you ever thought possible, and they're only ultimately relevant when they're all working together in this life-- when you can see past that monochrome lens and grasp the big picture that ALL the colors are part of.

Sounds like us.

Yeah. Yeah, maybe that's what I'm getting at too. Harmony. Unity. Relationship. You can't take one thing and make it better than everything else, higher than everything else, and "everything else" is bunk. You can't control everything under the guise of cooperation. That's not right. So, very long story short, I'm trying to say that Christina shouldn't be trying to make everyone follow her brand of Christian belief system, without question, because that's not respecting free will or religion. It's not a wrong belief, heck no, for her it might be exactly what she needs in her life. But not for mine. Not for yours either, judging from your past.

And my present. I mean I deeply love the Christian religion, I love its concepts and tenets and symbols and everything... but as a whole, after all the childhood trauma there, I have too many differing thoughts that I need to work through. I can't just blindly claim the label, especially not with that much lingering fear. And I still struggle with feeling like that hesitance is unforgivably wrong.

Kid, it's okay to have differing opinions from your original religion, that happens as you age and are exposed to the world. Just don't get stuck in your own momentary judgments or ideas, and never follow the whims of shifting society. Doubt this, question this, affirm this, believe this, but be ready to turn that all over on a dime if the tried-and-true evidence presents itself. Okay? And I don't just mean physical evidence, I mean if you're honestly LOOKING for truth, and you're open to hear it, then if your deepest heart suddenly speaks up and tells you that something IS true, I don't care if it uses words or not, you listen to it. Even if that revelation goes against everything you assumed or thought you knew up to that point. You LISTEN to that voice. Because that spark in your heart is the one compass that will never steer you wrong, as long as you ain't wearing any colored glasses, because then you're not seeing over half the entire spectrum.

And don't… don't second-guess it either.

No, do look at it discerningly, make sure it's not an echo or a lookalike, and always scrap if it's sugarcoated. But honestly if you are bloody sure that it's your heart talking-- your REAL heart, the one GOD gave you, not the damage, not the distortions, none of that junk-- then yeah, you don't second-guess that. Ever. And I'm looking at you, with an eagle gaze, as I say that.

Haha. But no, you're right.

I know I am. That's why I said it. You've been second-guessing that still small voice for far too long, kid.

…Why?

Heck if I know. Fear, maybe. Just like Christina. It's sad.

Fear of what, though?

Of being right. Of being wrong, even. Of… shoot, how do I put this into words. You're afraid of listening to it because… sheesh, kid, you tell me. Christina's afraid of a broader perspective than she can handle, I think. Too afraid of diversity and different possibility. She likes everything to be cut and dry, nice and neat, laid out for her. Tell her exactly what to do and think and say, and then she wants everyone to adhere to that, regardless of capacity or comprehension. You can't do that to people. But she's safe there, at least she feels she is, and that would pass as fine, if it wasn't barring her from seeing more of life that way.

Meaning?

Meaning if she keeps obsessing over whether or not everyone else is a "proper Christian", she'll never be able to value their faith as it is, or their lives as they are. Her perspective is limited. I mean shoot, you tell her you're a Buddhist, she's not going to look up the history of Gautama or the Noble Eightfold Path, or any of that. And it could really inspire her, because if she was looking at it with an open heart she'd see God echoed in that, too, the same God she worships so fervently but possessively. She'd realize that honest seekers are still headed in the same direction as her. But she doesn't. She's convinced there's only one very specific way to see God, because she's scared of something, maybe being wrong, if she sees it as so black and white. Like it's her way or the highway, and if she sees five lanes on that thing she's gonna have an existential crisis. I dunno, really I'm just guessing. Anyway you get what I mean.

Yeah. Seer of Love over here.

Still? After the Scratch?

I hope so. Maybe. Feels different actually, now that you mention it.

Maybe a different title, who knows. Don't worry about that right now.

I remember something about a butterfly, with that Buddha thing.

What butterfly? The Lao Tzu thing? The chaos theory bit?

No, although those are relevant too. I was thinking about this quote, from something I read a while ago that stuck with me too… "the child cried out in despair, 'touch me, God, and let me know You are here!" Whereupon God reached down and touched the child… but the child brushed the butterfly away, and walked away unknowingly."

…Man that is heartbreakingly true.

I know. I guess that’s what I try to hold on to, all the time. See God everywhere. He's reaching out all the time.

See, and that's what Christina's not doing to a fair extent. I know she tries too, but she's scared.

Isn't it weird how we're scared of so much light? Like we're afraid we can't handle it, or it'll be too much, or we're afraid of being judged or something. I don't know.

I don't either. I think it's fear of pain, in general.

How so?

…Kid, when I shrugged my walls off, I was bloody terrified. But I knew that I had nothing to gain from it but light, and joy and hope and all that good stuff. But it hurt, because now I was bloody vulnerable, and God knows I am not used to that.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable."

Exactly. …Exactly. And that's what I was scared of, even though I knew it would be worth it.

Is it just… misplaced fear then? Expecting pain or punishment or something, in the one place it wouldn't be?

Maybe. How about you? Why are you scared to listen to your heart? That's what I wanna know. And I don't mean literally-- okay wait, yeah, I do want to know that. Both answers. Give 'em here, kid.

Heh, okay. I… the second one is because of hacks.

So I figured. But why are they going there? Because of the first bit, probably.

Fear of love?

Is that what it is? Sheesh, kid, how'd that happen?

…Proximity to hacks is all.

Ah, I see…

Yeah, it's kind of obvious when I point it out.

Yeah it is.

Fear of hacks is all. Fear of love through its proximity to pain. Fear of vulnerability because that means that other people can get in, and tear me to freaking shreds if I'm not careful. Same as you.

…Yeah.

We're scared of opening up because we know some people WILL take advantage of us that way. But you know what? Forget it, we have to be vulnerable anyway, it's the only thing we can do.

Can't love at all if we don't, and then they win, which ain't gonna happen.

Haha, exactly! So we have to be vulnerable, because that's what love is, it's openness to everything. It's that quote I love so much. "Be soft. Don't let the world make you hard. Don't let pain make you hate. Don't let the bitterness steal your sweetness…"

Kid, that's beautiful, you need to get that tattooed on your arm or something so we never forget it.

Hehe, maybe. Maybe.

I'm serious. Write it on your wall. Put it on a shirt. Hang it above your bed. Just… remind yourself of that, always. All of us.

Geez, you're really fervent about this?

Of course I am, that's my role, I've gotta be concerned about this. I can't protect people at all if I've got a hard heart, closed off to my emotions and theirs too. If I'm not open, if I'm not able to understand them, and I don't mean intellectually, that only goes so far-- listen, kid, if I'm not listening to my heart, then I'm a failure as a protector. Then I'm a failure as a knight in shining armor. And I'd cash in my helmet.

Laurie, don't do that.

Why not? If I'm that closed off, the helmet's not gonna work for me anyway.



But I won't, kid. I don't ever plan to. Think of it as my constant reminder, to not lock up ever again. How about you?

Huh?

What's your reminder, kid? Do you have one? Besides the quote? What about physical stuff, a totem, to bring that to mind? What about people? Besides me. You have anyone left who reminds you that love bears all things, love is patient love is kind, so on and so forth? Anyone around who breaks down your walls and doesn't leave you scared and bleeding in the process?

…Isn't that weird, how there's such a dichotomy? That you can break down walls to hurt and heal?

It's all in the intention, kid. Intention is key.

Is it?

…I would think so.

Sometimes it's not enough.

No. No it's not. Sometimes good intentions are a one-way ticket to hell. Elevator shaft straight down, just freakin' drop, don't even wait around.

Yeah.

You know what I mean.

…But there's dichotomy there, too.

Kid, I don't mean bloody mistranslations. I mean using people. I mean ABUSING people for your own selfish ends, I don't care how the heck you do it. If someone is acting on their own hedonistic motives, or malevolent intentions, EVEN if they lie to themselves about it, then it's wrong. "Good intentions" my axe. You can sugar-coat that poison all you want, it's still dragging you down to the morgue with it.

…Who, me or the abuser?

The abuser. To literal hell with their "good intentions." They're the one who's going to pay for it in fire. You, kid, are going to end up with pain and scars and nightmares, that I sadly know, but it is not going to define you. Not unless you let it. So DON'T. It is NOT your fault.

You're getting preachy. Am I doing that bad?

I get preachy when I'm worried about you, kid. I try to drill this all into your head. Is it working?

Yeah. If only because you're saying it with such ardor and love, even if you won't admit that outright.

Don’t need to. If it shows itself clear enough without words then my work is done.

Hm.

So remember that.

Which part?

All of it, kid, but I was referencing the part about not needing words to say the truth. Back we go to the question you never freakin' answered, not completely.

Listening to my heart, right.

Yeah. …Kid, when did that get so bad?

What?

The association. The… shoot, you know what I mean. Having that become an almost-instant hack button.

…I don’t know. Too long ago. It's depressing.

Don't slip on me kid, stay here.

I can't tell what's real or not.

Forget the dictionary definition of "real," kid.

"Actual rather than imaginary…"

Forget that stuff, like I said. Reality is broader than the observable world.

Hey, definition #1 is better.

What is it?

"True; not merely ostensible, nominal, or apparent."

See? Truth and knowledge are two different things.

It would be disastrous to confuse them.

Classic L'Engle right there, right on. But yeah. Truth goes deeper than what's on the surface. I would know.

Yeah, you're it's Knight up here.

…That kind of makes your role really bloody tragic if you use it wrong, doesn't it.

…Use it wrong?

…Kid, I think I know what your problem is. You're afraid of your heart because it doesn't judge. It's TOO bloody soft. It's getting torn to bits. You're letting it get shredded because you do see love in everything, but you look so far past the surface sometimes that you forget you're still living in a world where darker motives do come into play. You let people use you because you're afraid of not seeing love in saying "no."

…That's a twisted mindset.

It is. Love doesn’t mean blind accommodation. Love doesn't mean saying "yes" to everything, not in that indiscriminate way. Accept what cards you're dealt, surrender to the greater reality of things, but freakin' don't kill yourself in the process!! Surrender doesn’t bloody mean giving up, or giving in-- it means knowing when to stop fighting back tooth and nail because you're only scratching yourself up in the process. Calm down, get a grip, take aim, and THEN get the heck out of there because staying is NOT love if you're not loving yourself too.



It's not, kid.

Everything is.

Ultimately, yeah. But you're scared as shade, kid. Listen, I don't understand this 100% either. No one can. All I know is that it is not right for you to keep not fighting back because you think resistance isn't love. Kid there are two different definitions of resistance in this game.

It's so confusing, Laurie.

What are you so afraid of? Why don't you protect yourself, kid, why do you always bloody give in?

I don't, I don't want them using me or Infi like that!!

Then why don't you stick around? Listen, Jay, I'm not blaming you, I'm just saying if you WERE there for a few moments today, BEFORE Infi had an existential crisis, why the heck didn't you say anything??

…Because it was him.

…And you don't think he's capable of being hacked?

I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Kid, you said yourself you knew it wasn't him.

I doubted myself. I didn't… Laurie, I don't trust my own judgment on being able to tell if what's happening to me is good or bad, or right or wrong.

Don't be so freaking black and white then, if it confuses you so badly. Think, "is this going to harm someone?" If yes, get the heck OUT of there. If no--

How do I know if it will harm someone?

Kid, for heaven's sake, LOOK at you. You're in pain, you're scared, you're baffled and bleeding. If you were in a worse place now you'd be considering suicide, or worse. I would know. I've seen you at your worst.

…With a knife to my throat, huh.

Yeah. Me too.

…Laurie, don't bring that up…

Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that.

No, you didn't scare me, you just…

I just broke your heart, didn't I.

Yeah.

…Sorry, kid.

I know. It's okay.

…The reasons why we were pushed that far aren't okay, though.

No, they're not. I mean they shouldn't be.

Kid, are you so bloody concerned about the big picture that you are incapable of seeing things as harmful to you??

…Yes? Aren't they? Not harmful I mean?

…J, listen… in the big picture, sure, your soul is fine. No scars on that when it's all said and done. What other people do to you doesn't mar what matters, ever, and thank God for that. But on the other hand, your body is freakin' bleeding, kid, figuratively as well as literally, and I say that if you can get through life without that then for heaven's sake, please do.

…Is that better?

What, to get through life without pain like that? Well yeah, kid, what the heck do you think I'm trying to accomplish for you here? You're not capable of protecting yourself yet, not with this mindset, but so help me I'm not going to stop until you are. And even then I'll be backing you up on it. Okay?

Okay.

No really, you understand what I said? You need to stand up for yourself, kid. You NEED to stop letting people abuse you AND the people you love because you're scared of being wrong in a moral sense. Kid, there is a fine line there, and you are crossing it.

Laurie I don't want them to hurt Infi. Ever again. I'm sorry.

Then why the heck didn’t you say anything?

When? When I realized it? Because I didn't trust myself, I told you that--

No, no, that's not what I mean. What I mean is that, if you love him that bleeding much, why didn't you take that chance? If you KNEW there were precedents to this, were you really that willing to be wrong?

I was that willing to be right. I… Laurie, I don't… I don’t want hacks anymore. I wanted to believe that maybe whatever was happening wasn't… I'm sorry.

I know, kid. I'm sorry for pushing the issue. I'm just freaking baffled as to why this keeps repeating.

Should we get Infi in here?

Heck no, it's 1 in the morning, you need to get some sleep. We'll talk to him tomorrow maybe. Tomorrow's church, too, maybe there'll be some synchronicity there.

I miss synchronicity.

You notice when it last happened? When everyone was together. Tear the System apart, and boom, suddenly everything freakin' fragments.

I'm sorry.

Kid, I'm not blaming you-- oh hey, look at the numbers, haha.

…Aha, wow. Page 11, Sec 1, 11/11.

Hot dang. And we were just talking about synchronicity.

Okay, that punched a few walls down.

Good! Now do you believe me about not compromising your integrity, kid?

Is that what it's about?

It's about not justifying abusive actions by lack of action is what I say it is. Lynne said that once, I think. "I feel my lack of action is reprehensible enough." Not saying you're reprehensible, but really, kid, we could have a lot less hacks if you'd stand up for yourself every once in a while.

It's hard. I don't know why. Somewhere along the line it became difficult.

…Look, kid, it's late, and I know you're getting tired. Do you want to call it quits for now?

Maybe. I just don't want to end this on a bad note. I believe you. My heart believes you, I can feel it. Is that good?

It's great, kid. Thanks.

Mm-hm. Tell Infi I'm sorry and that I love him.

You tell him.

…Okay. I will. …I love you too, Laurie. Thanks for talking me down a bit.

Sure thing kid, I'm always here if you need someone to do that.

…So are we calling it quits now?

If you want to.

Feels like a cliffhanger though.

Maybe it is.

So… stand up for myself, because I deserve love too, I deserve to be safe from malice, and people shouldn't abuse other people so don't pretend that's okay because it's not, even if…

Even if what?

…Even if I'm supposed to be abused?

Kid, what the heck, NO one is "supposed" to be abused--

Maybe I have to learn a lesson from it. I don't know.

--Is that why you keep falling back into this mindset? You're convinced the abuse is ordained by God.

…Isn't it?

...Shoot, kid, I don't know. I don't know already. All I know is that it breaks my heart to see you like this and you're not learning anything from all the pain as far as I can tell.

I'm learning now. I'm learning from you.

Kid, I'd say this to you if you were all rainbows and butterflies or if you were drowning in a mire. I'm gonna be there to pick you up and drag you out of whatever shadowy trap you get stuck in. Okay? And when you're happy I'm gonna make absolutely sure that your happiness is genuine, and then I'm going to join in because heck, life's too short to mope around. You know?

Yeah.

So that's what I'm trying to do here, hilariously. Talk you out of feeling you deserve this pain somehow.

It's not so much 'deserving' as it is 'needing.'

And why the heck do you "need" to be abused? And don't say "to learn," you can learn a whole lot more through things that AREN'T abusive. Just count 'em, they outnumber the "abuse lessons" by a freaking billion. I checked.

…That is true.

See? Now I'm not saying that you don't learn from pain, but… really, J, there are better ways to do it.

I'm running in circles.

Yeah. You are.

It's silly, when I realize it. I keep insisting I learn from abuse. But I learn the same awful things over and over. Over and over and over. And I bleed and I cry and I pray for death and then you show up, and we have this same conversation in how many different ways, and then I'm like "oh okay I just learned something" when really, I think the abuse is making me FORGET and you're just a blessed reminder of what I blinded myself to.

…Shoot that makes sense.

It does. And I think THAT'S what I was supposed to learn tonight. I can feel it.

Yeah. I think it is too.

You okay?

Just tired is all, ironically. But I'm happy to see you with your head straight on your shoulders again. Also, why the heck are you asking me if I'm okay?

Common courtesy?

Psh, haha. Fine, I'll roll with that. You okay?

Essentially. Big picture, yeah. Little picture, yes. Sad about what just happened, heartbroken over Infi, but okay in the long run. I always am.

I know, kid. Listen, it's 1AM and I… I don't know, does Infi react well to seeing you after this sort of thing?

…I don't know. Maybe. He seems too unconditionally forgiving not to. I think he's just scared of hurting me, which is why he waits for me to come to him, if at all.

Hm. Makes sense.

So I will. Even if I don't say anything. I love him and I am so sorry this happened.

This happened because you love him, though, ironically.

Is that bad?

No, what's bad is that your love was taken advantage of. The fact that you love him is not bad at all, and never will be. Okay? Promise me you won't forget that.

Do I?

In reverse. You forget that other people loving you is a good thing, sometimes. And that's when you cut yourself off from the world, pretend you have no feelings, all that nonsense.

Cherubim don't have feelings.

Don't quote Proginoskes at me, not when Infinitii is the closest thing we've got to him, not when Infi doesn't emote a bloody thing but you know he's not an emotionless void. You know exactly what I mean.



Maybe cherubim don’t have feelings. Love ain't a feeling. But the point is, you're not a cherubim. If you do have feelings, just let them happen, don't go hating them, that's just making it worse.

I don't 'hate ' them, I just… dislike… it's tiring. They tire me out.

Then go the cherubim route. Love stuff. Love the emotions, just let them be. S'all I can recommend, really.

Yeah. We're kind of getting off topic.

How?

We're trying to put truths into words that we already know, truths we already know I mean, and confusing ourselves.

Haha, no kidding, kiddo. It's what I said, don't get so hung up on words.

…Aaaah there's the synchronicity again.

Yeah, wow, that was a punch to the face.

Straight to the heart, more like it.

Sounds like you need to call this quits?

Yeah. Before someone else gets triggered by my grandmother being up.

Don't pay attention to that, it's not important. Just close this up, and go talk to him. Or something.

Wink nudge cough?

Haha, not this time. Not with him. I can't joke about you two when you're like this.



Wow those lyrics are synchronistic.

Wow is right. I mean, I'm used to the universe being loud, but wow.

The universe is using a megaphone tonight, eh?

Yeah. A couple of 'em. Wow.

Heh. Glad to hear it, actually. It's been a while.

It has. But this is what you meant, what I meant, about not doubting things. That was LOUD, figuratively so. That was a straight-up punch to the face of "hey man! This is important stuff! Here's some advice and reminders and emotionally devastating significance!" And if I turned a blind eye to this, like I've been doing a lot lately, which is stupid… if I ignored this, said "it's nothing, just a coincidence"--

I'd freakin' slap you in the face if you said that, and I'm serious. That's garbage talk.

It is. Which is my point too. It's not a coincidence. It means something. And I'm going to listen.

Good. Now you need sleep like fifteen minutes ago.

Yes. My boss is probably waiting for me. He reminds me of good things in the world too. So do you. And Infi. Everyone does.

Just be careful, kid.

I know. But I think I understand better now. I'm in a better place mentally.

Good. Now seriously, J, go get some sleep.

I will. Fatigue is crushing me.

I'm aware of that.

See you in the morning?

Sure thing.

Love you, Laurie.

Love you too, kid. 'Night.

 


 

thoughts.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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


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

 




 

 

072213

Jul. 30th, 2013 01:40 am
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

(not j where is he)

i think headspace is falling apart

too many fragments
too many strange people
nothing looks or feels right
no one is fronting it is all empty and dead

people are still alive yes but its all broken and wrong

phase four, thats what this feels like now

phase one= julie
phase two= tar
phase three= underground
and now
phase four= originals

christina and jess want us dead in different ways
not sure how to deal with this
too much is happening too fast

the body is so sick, so sick
i had a feeling this would happen
its one of those wretched nights
weekends are always like this
"think differently"
okay
this is the last bad weekend ever
lets try to fix this

but right now everything hurts we're scared

we're so scared and ashamed of living
we're so guilty for living
we don't really exist
we're so pained
so full of pain.
look at how we hurt people.
look at how we ruin lives.
she's right
we shouldn't exist

but how do we just stop existing?
she said we cant kill the body thats a sin
but we cant keep living in it what do we do

we dont want to live anymore we really dont
too much hurt and scared and sick
not good
not nice
crying.
go away
want to sleep forever.

she said we don't actually exist at all
so why dont we just disappear
why cant we just disappear
and be gone forever

please let us be gone when she wakes up
all of us
maybe then she;lll be happy
and we'll be dead
and no one will hurt anymore/

 

 

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

@ 09:43 am

So we've noticed something that seems to be uncommon, about our system-- at least, according to what we know of the community.

99% of the time, we don't have an "original consciousness" in the body walking around, living their life and being aware of us. Instead, we have a fabricated Autopilot program running-- a robotic consciousness stuffed full of carefully chosen phrases and actions, created to limitedly take care of the body's social/ mundane interactions, even if "no one is driving." So this non-entity typically runs the show, while we all watch from inside... almost like viewing the outer life on a big TV screen. This allows us to comment on the life we see, make suggestions, and contribute in tiny ways to the AP's actions, without being tangled up in the stress of actually driving (although it does not always accept our input, as its main function is to buffer/censor our input in the first place!).

Because of this setup, we don't regularly "switch out," at least, not to just live life. That's too dangerous. Not only is our living situation not safe for us, but the vast majority of us also experience significant dysphoria when fronting in any case. This is caused either by having to front as a dramatically different gender and/or species, or by the shock of suddenly having to operate a human physical body.
When anyone does switch out entirely, it's usually because they either felt the need to intercede on the body's behalf at that moment (upstairs system), OR because they were triggered by a real or potential threat (downstairs system). Our people don't just switch out to "live life," like many alters seem to do-- for example, the idea of an alter fronting so regularly as to have their own life, hobbies, possessions, etc. is alien to all of us. We live inside the mind, even though this is limited and often painful, because the alternative is even moreso, albeit in different ways.

Is this an uncommon situation for a system to be in? Does anyone else experience something like this?

 

 

prismaticbleed: (sorrow)

 

 

 

Geez it's bloody difficult fronting in this thing.

Yes, this is Laurie. Forgive me for updating in the kid's journal but I don't exactly have my own space to do so.
Trigger warning for language, as usual, that's how I translate, you'll have to deal with it.

As for
why I'm updating here, which is one heck of a rare event...
I'm sorry. I'm being a moron and listening to James Blake while trying to type this. Not doing much to help my emotional state, that's for sure.
I was just downstairs (well, in Central at least) with Chaos, Genesis, Sandman, and Leon (because he's our teleporter, can't get anywhere without him). We were all trying to figure out what the heck would happen if J moved
out of the White slot he's currently in, didn't have a bloody clue, so down to the simulation room we go. Three floors down, if you're curious.
Anyway. As for what provoked this whole fiasco? ...I don't know if I should write it here. J doesn't exactly have access to those memories, and I don't want to trigger anyone else, which is happening way too freaking often recently, as you can probably tell.
Basically, "Jay" is literally incapable of maintaining relationships right now. He was right, go figure. Chaos and Genesis apparently tried today, took every bleeding precaution possible, then realized that J
could not be near them without straight-up slipping out of fronting. I mean what the heck. But that's the news I got, you try and go one-on-one with J and what happens? Suddenly he's not in the bloody driver's seat anymore. I mean full-out, he's gone. Starts spitting programming instead of actual dialogue. It's scary as hell, s'far as I can tell. I wasn't there, for once.
Chaos is freaking out. Genesis isn't taking it as badly, I guess he's used to this behavior since he follows the kid to school and all that. And I'll admit I've seen similar, when I try to talk to him. He's got two modes now: sparkly rainbow "everything is perfect" mode, and empty stark white "I want to stop existing" mode. It's ridiculous, I tell you, and we've got no bloody clue why he's stuck like this.
Well, that's a lie. We know now. Sheesh I'm just at bad as intros as he is, what the heck.

Simulation room. Let's cut straight to the point.
Apparently Sherlock mans the thing. Super-logic man, stays in the semi-underground and manages the archives, no surprise there. Apparently he's got access to 'em since the sim-room works on Black energy, and that's where inner memory is stored. But Sherlock tells us that there are huge gaps in the archives now, thanks to that cursed scratch, since the kid moved out of the slot that held most of 'em, I guess? Weird stuff. But yeah, he told us flat-out to go re-read old entries, get the memories back even if they're just data, 'case they sure ain't down here.
Anyway we ran a sim. "The heck would happen if J moved back to Red?"
Let's see how the heck I can summarize this...
Apparently, that's not a very smart idea. Since the first Jewel came into existence in the Brown slot (theoretically, of course) back in '03, that mental bloodline has been slowly and inevitably moving towards
either Black or White. As the core I guess it was mandatory. So when Jewel switched to red hair and eyes around 2008, when I showed up, that was a move into the closest slot to those two. And she had a choice. Now of course she was pretty bloody close to being Black then, I mean it surrounded her half the freakin' time, but apparently she chose White. And that's when the infamous gender switch happened. Jewel became a dude and his red hair started to turn white, while those feminine characteristics went guess where? Straight to the Black, to apparently move into Infinitii in April of this year. And then when the Scratch hit, all it really did to J was move him the heck out of that old slot, with that few-month transition period for Infinitii to manifest, then bam, 100% White.
Problem is, he's not
supposed to be 100% White. He's SUPPOSED to be a bloody Spectrum core, and last I checked, the word "spectrum" meant at least 7 bloody actual colors. So he's vacillating in and out of that state, between rainbows and ice, and that's a problem enough BUT good ol' Sherlock informed us that while he's in the White slot, he's locked out of the Spectrum.
Yeah. You heard me. I guess the unspoken rules say J can
only interact with Infinitii in this state. What the heck, right?
So our question still wasn't answered, sorry. Could he move back?
Short answer? No. Not without serious consequences at least.
See the Red slot holds all the residual memories of the past 6 years, give or take a few months, which is probably why no one else can anchor there right now. It's too stuffed-up with old J identity turmoil. But, according to the data sim, if he moved
back, he'd have to take on ALL that again, and in his current state that might even kill him.
He's changed to much to handle the depth of Red. Currently he can't feel strong emotions anymore, he can't get immersed in "drama" or the dark/light highs and lows of our "old days." That business is over for good, as long as he's in White at least. Even worse, is the fact that Infi was born FOR the Black slot, which needs a White counterpart to exist (and vice versa). So if J left and Infi was left alone, guess what? He'd glitch out and overload, hello Tar. Yeah, that's apparently the REAL reason why we have this Tar on our hands: we had a solo Black slot for years with no bloody balance. I don't exactly wanna do that again.
So if we moved Infi with him, then what? Well, he'd have to move into Blue, and the sim figured he'd be incompatible with that color. (Born for the Black slot, of course; can't exactly translate that into colors.) Same with moving him to Red and J to Blue (yeah, we were checking
every option): both would probably cause a total personality reset in them both. Not exactly something we're aiming for. And then of course the core slots would collapse, leaving nothing but the Tar, and that's not an option, ever.
Right around here Chaos started to get worked up, for lack of a better term. (The man was an emotional mess, really.) He starts asking why the heck HE can't move into the Black slot with J. Well that would force Infi out, and if we don't know what the heck to do with him then we're screwed.
Actually that's the main reason we even
did this simulation, for heaven's sakes, I didn't even mention that. You'll have to forgive me, my mind's a total mess right now and there is a lot of data to record here. Not exactly the sort of stuff I wanna let fall by the wayside.
So yeah, Chaos is freaking out because J doesn't love him anymore.

New paragraph for emphasis: according to Chaos, J is incapable of feeling anything towards him, or Genesis, or me, or literally
anyone anymore. Courtesy of his hyper-innocent White role, of course.
So we ran the sim to see if there was
any way the two of them could be together again. Nothing doing. The Spectrum would have to be entirely rehauled at this point for that to work. And honestly we were considering that. What with all these bloody splinters and undergrounders, there are too many colors for the old flowcharts to work at ALL.
Sherlock proposed a three-ring sort of contraption, a 3D flowchart, three unbroken rainbow rings with a black and white core in the middle. But that's a big problem, because then the B/W boys are STILL inherently cut off from the rest of the colors. How the heck are they supposed to be "spectrum colors" if they're not even part of the actual Spectrum?!
So I said, we should ditch the bloody things. "Black and White aren't colors" anyway, y'know. Make like a J-Monster and have two Rainbow slots instead, who even cares, it's better than this disaster. No idea how that'd work but Sherlock said it
might be possible, well hey fantastic, little point of light in here for once.
But then Sherlock got all logical on us (as usual) and asked Chaos why the heck he was so bent on getting back with Jewel anyway? Why the heck did that matter so much to him, that he was considering moving into the
Black slot and effectively resetting his entire freaking memory JUST to be with him?
Gotta say, the answer surprised me a little.
Apparently, Chaos has built his
entire life around that boy. Whereas the other Outspacers can all go back to their "native worlds" or wherever the heck else if they want to, Chaos refuses to. And why? Because "there was nothing left for him there." Guardian of the Chao? Done, that hasn't applied for a couple thousand years. Demi-God? Totally debunked, he got his ass kicked by a blue hedgehog for heaven's sake. The only thing he had going for him was being some sort of "relic of the ancient past," who people overlooked anyway. Chaos said there was nothing for him if he went back, and there sure wasn't anything for him there back in 2003. Just existing, and remembering the past, which he wasn't too happy with anyway.
And then J showed up. The infamous dreamer, hijacked this guy's inner life and gave him a second chance. Can you dream? Cool, come with me, I'll show ya a good time. Bottom line, what Chaos had with him was more than he EVER could have had on his own. Jewel, quite literally, WAS his life. Without that kid, CZ had nothin'.
Of course he's madly in love with that boy the way it is, but I think that goes without saying at this point. It's practically a universal constant.
And would you believe that's the biggest problem here? CZ HAS NO SELF-IMAGE WITHOUT J IN IT.
I mean, literally, if you take Jewel out of his life he LOSES it. He has built
everything around that boy and honestly, that's a huge problem. You can't be that bloody dependent on one person, I don't care if they're your other half. You can't be that dependent.
Chaos is having a hard time with that though. He can't comprehend the idea of letting go like that, not without becoming utterly uncaring like J happens to be currently. I... heh, he actually asked me if
I was like that, with J. I said no. Honestly, I'm really not. If J left tomorrow, for good, you know what I'd do? I'd keep on living, because I've got a job to do up here. And if I lost my job? If I lost all connection to the System, and J, and became some sort of free-floating purposeless git... well, that'd be fine too, because if there's anything J's taught me, it's that there's something beyond this. Even for me. I don't know what the heck it is, but I've got faith in it. Whatever the heck I am, I know that there's some bigger reason why I'm here, whether or not I'm sharing that reason with these people.
I mean, yeah, I'd be heartbroken beyond belief if J left. I won't deny that. The kid's my
life. But I mean that in a different way than CZ does. If I suddenly lost J, it'd be hard as hell, but... I'd keep walking. We've had our times together. It's been good. And I'd cry my freakin' eyes out for weeks, probably. But I'd keep going, for his sake or not, because we both know other people need me too.
And I'm going in circles. Point is
I can let go of him if I need to. Don't ever want to, but if I had to, I could. Chaos can't. So that's gonna be our big side job up here for a while, along with figuring out whether or not there's anything to fix in J, of course. Heck, he's halfway okay. But the "I wanna die" half, and the fact that neither half even cares about anything except spiritual detachment right now, doesn't sit well with me.
Sherlock pointed out the... geez, does this even fit here? I dunno, don't exactly care. Sherlock was comparing J's connection to Infi, as a B/W thing, and J's connection to Chaos, as a twin flame thing. Yeah, that's practically verified by anybody you ask up here, and outside too, so I don't blame CZ for not wanting to lose that connection on this level. But there's this really interesting difference between the two. Instinctively, you might wanna put J and Infi in a taijitu shape. Middle of the current Spectrum, Black and White, you'd think it'd work. But it
doesn't. I mean come on, even when J drew the flowcharts himself, the two colors were two halves of a diamond, with a grey divider in the middle. No blending. But with J and CZ, I don't care if they're red and blue or black and white, point is that taijitu shape just happens. So that can't be ignored either.
Man I don't even know what I'm trying to say here. Leon was sitting in the back, not saying a word because this is all confusing as heck to him. Sandman kept apologizing, insisting he "should've known" that there would be problems with this color switch, I said how the heck would he know? Sherlock backed me up there actually, saying a lot of the data we have now could only be understood now. So much changes in the System on a daily basis, it's entirely possible for yesterday's truth to no longer be applicable today. So we didn't have the things we know now when Boss was helping the kid move slots. Back then, that was the ideal course of action. We didn't know this would happen until now. Good news though, the kid's still The Apprentice, although he's stopped identifying with the title and doesn't give it much thought anymore. Surprisingly that's a plus, as Sandmen can't get rooted into one identity anyway, even if it's their job title.
Of course we brought that up to Chaos, blah blah blah, can't be so attached to J, so on and so forth. He's having a hell of a time with it, I guess he's never really known what it's like
not to have his very purpose for existence rooted in someone else. So this is gonna be hard for him. But honestly, if I can do it he can do it, and I'll help him, God give me the strength.
Man I'm tired. Sorry. I'm not used to this fronting-and-typing business.

There's one more thing I wanna write down before I close this up.
We reviewed our possible plans and options before leaving the sim room-- color switches and spectrum rewrites and all that-- but really we've gotta do detail work first, I think. Sherlock said specifically for Chaos to fix his perspective, and THEN see if there was still a problem. CZ wasn't too happy with that but hey, it's gotta be done. Guess the real problem is Sherlock not comprehending relationships though. He's not a very social guy, no surprise for someone who lives in the simulation room for heaven's sake.
Anyway. The one point of that whole bloody thing that cut to my heart was something Chaos said when defending his emotions about the whole disaster. Said he wouldn't be so bothered by this change in Jewel IF the kid didn't spontaneously fall back into "I love you more than the entire world" mode every single time it rains. Every single time.
So CZ keeps trying to get back with him, he's getting desperate, and apparently J looks at him like he doesn't even know who the heck he is. According to CZ he
asks how he's supposed to act. Who are you, what do I do, what have we done, et cetera and it's harrowing. I can see why he's in so much pain.
So I guess Sherlock's suggestion of "detach from him as well" is partly a good idea? I mean, without the "stop caring" bit. CZ's gotta have a sense of purpose that's not completely anchored to that kid, now more than ever, since J seems unwilling to be
anyone's anchor in that respect right now. (Problem in and of itself, with the White slot's relation to the System, but you already know that.) But the more progress he makes there, the less it'll hurt for J to be acting like this and forget it this sounds like utter garbage to type.

I don't know what the heck to do, okay? I haven't got a bloody clue.
CZ's self-image has nothing to do with the bleeding big picture here, which is
J doesn't remember a thing. And he dissociates UPSTAIRS.
Now I'm not saying Chaos and Genesis trying so hard to fix their relationships with him is a smart move, but I'm just baffled by the fact that, half the time, J is the one that initiates it! And they BELIEVE him, just like I do for heaven's sake, he's always so bleeding honest I cannot wrap my head around the fact that he
doesn't even realize he's doing it.
Like what the heck is this? Is he that badly splintered? Is his psyche just fragmenting off whenever something "threatens" his absolute stark-white innocence? Why the heck is THAT what his new role is? And why the heck is love considered a threat to it? That's my problem. I don't know if it's the context or what, but I'm bothered by the fact that J won't even
talk to them now. That's a little extreme, to say the absolute least.
So yeah, apparently every once in a blue moon J will go find Chaos or Genesis and be all "I still love you, let's fix this problem," but the INSTANT they try to do ANYTHING, J shuts down. He dissociates, and breaks into bloody pieces, and everything becomes an act.
CZ came running into Central in actual
tears today. The man was sobbing his heart out, honestly I cannot remember the last time I saw him this shattered. And the first thing out of his mouth is "J doesn't know who I am anymore."
And he doesn't. That's the bottom line, he bloody
doesn't.
I don't know what the heck is going on.

It's worse because I can't see straight either way anymore.
What with Christina and her freaking idiotic "good Christian" facade which is utterly blind and stupid, and then J's equally stonehearted convictions that "true spirituality" means abandoning absolutely everything in this lifetime, I don't know what the heck to think.
I can get behind this "cosmic dream" thing. That's kinda comforting. What I
can't get behind is the notion that J keeps promoting, which is "you're not supposed to care about ANYTHING" as a result. And honestly it freaks me the heck out because one minute he is as happy as a clam with this, all rainbow-eyed and insisting that the world is the most beautiful place he's ever seen, like a five year old. Totally unaware of any "bad" in the world. And then two seconds later, suddenly he's so tired he can't move, unable and unwilling to live any longer, or see ANY reason to in the world he was just praising like the Psalmist himself, and yeah I'm aware of the irony there. I can't get behind it. What the heck is going on?
And then Chaos, God knows he just breaks my heart at this point. I didn't know he was
that attached. It makes sense, but sheesh. That's dangerous for anyone, not just him.
I don't want to see him torn to pieces by J abandoning him, but so help me I don't want J to abandon him either! Is this even about what I want?? What the heck, who even cares. Point is I've seen love between those two that I CANNOT find anywhere else, not without a saint-grade spiritual experience backing it up. If it weren't for those two, I wouldn't BE who I am right now. They're what wore off my iron edges, not just J, it was the BOTH of them.
I'm at a complete loss. I cannot believe this is happening.
They were like... they were out of this world, really. Who
loves someone like that, here? Who has that sort of total devotion to someone? I can't see it anymore. I can't see it anymore because those two haven't been together in months.
And I don't know why that feels like the Great Wall of China is falling to pieces in my heart, but it does. It's something catastrophic that makes no bleeding sense. For years they were... forget it, I've gotta stop talking about this, there's no point. No one bloody cares, not like I do. No use sharing it anywhere. It's my problem, not yours.

J, if you're reading this, tell me what the heck is going on.
And NO, I do NOT mean walk upstairs with your bloody rainbow halo and insist "there's nothing wrong, everything is a-okay!" because I will seriously chop your head off. This is NOT okay. For you to suddenly turn your back on the man you've loved for almost a
decade now, AND your daughter, PLUS Genesis and Ryman and Markus and even INFINITII for heaven's sake, who Sherlock insists you need to cooperate with in order for your color slot to even function correctly-- that's not okay. That is NOT okay, at all.

Something needs to change, and fast.
If J is really that off-center, where he is now, the whole System might collapse. Either we get him the heck out of there, or we fix whatever the heck is up with him in there, or I don't know what we're gonna do.
I'm lost. I am totally lost. I am out of ideas, that's it, I'm done.

I'm also out of time to type. It's 11PM and there is no bloody way I'm going to sit and drive myself crazy with this nonsense for another second.

I hope to God we have better news in the future.
That's all I have to say.

 



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

@11:15PM



 

All right I know J said for us to take a break from Tumblr, but this picture is absolutely breaking my heart tonight and I feel obligated to post it here.

J, whatever the heck happened to you and CZ over the past year (or two, who even knows anymore), fix it. Please.
This, right here, NEEDS to come back. I don't know why. But I'm sure of it, somehow, even if you've forgotten about it entirely.

I love you, kid, and I'm not the only one.
For God's sake, try to remember that.

Sincerely, Laurie.


#on cz's behalf #for j who is being an idiot #kid you've gotta come back

 

 

071713

Jul. 17th, 2013 01:34 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 

sometimes we really wonder if full integration is an option.

daily life is hell, at least for the ones who live it
you dont hear about it here we dont talk about it

the autopilot and the non-system alters who ignore our condition don't care. they're too empty, the latter just want to die, that's bad enough

but the upstairs people live in their happy little joyland they don't have to deal with the body like we do they don't know

they dont know what its like to HAVE to front
we cant help it we're TIED TO IT
and its terrifying to have this life to live that we dont even know about

the body is 23!!! most of us arent even evidenced a year old!!!
we dontknow what to do its too painful to wake up for most of us especially the little ones and the broken ones

and now were all wondering, what if we all died

someone tried integration in the past, when the upstairs peple were the only ones, two of them died. they came back later though
but what if we all died what would happen
would the hurting stop? who would be left would the body die?

we dont want to do this anymore



{downstairs system}

 


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

 

 

@ 10:52 pm

 

SOMEONE JUST TRIED TO DRINK ALCOHOL

NO

YOU DO NOT FREAKING DRINK ALCOHOL THAT IS OFF LIMITS!!!!!

YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE EVERYONE SICK YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT

SPIT IT OUT
THROW IT UP
GET IT OUT OF THE SYSTEM
YOURE GOING TO POISON US!!!

OH NO NO NO

EMMETT TRIED TO GET IT OUT BUT THERE WASNT ENOUGH TO GET OUT SAFELY
YOU HEARTLESS JERK
YOU KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN
TRYING TO CHUG THAT DOWN LIKE IT WASNT A PROBLEM
YOU WITCH
DONT YOU REALIZE HOW DANGEROUS THAT IS

KNIFE IS SO ANGRY
WHO ARE YOU
WHY THE HECK DO YOU KEEP WANTING TO DRINK
NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO DRINK
ESPECIALLY NOT YOU


I WILL THROW OUT EVERY LAST DROP OF ALCOHOL IN THIS HOUSE
I DONT CARE WHOSE IT IS
I DONT CARE HOW MUCH MONEY IT COST
IF YOU ARE GOING TO KEEP DRINKING IT I WILL

I HATE YOU
I AM SICK OF PEOPLE ACTING LIKE WE DONT EXIST
LIKE WE DONT MATTER AND WE DONT GET SICK
YOU AND THAT STUPID CHOCOLATE GIRL
I HATE YOU

GET THE HECK OUT OF OUR LIVES
STOP RUINING EVERYTHING

GET OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!

 



 

062813

Jun. 28th, 2013 02:49 pm
prismaticbleed: (worried)

 


I don't know how many times I've seen the joke phrase "You're just jealous because the voices talk to me," but I can't help but wonder what the alleged jealousy is all about.

 

"The voices" talk to me ALL the time. They're not all nice, though. Most of them aren't, it seems.
As a kid I'd have faceless angry people scream at me to the point where I'd be in tears, clamping my hands over my ears in a desperate attempt to drown out the noise between them.
As a teenager it was better, as those angry voices went away for a few years, and instead I made a few new "imaginary friends"... please pardon the term, guys. I couldn't make any human friends in elementary or high school, because I was always either talking to or about my nonhuman ones.
I remember 8th grade, how the girls in my class thought I was nuts because I refused to say videogame/ anime characters "weren't real." How could they not be real, I said, when I talk to them every day? We go on adventures together, we're best friends. Of course they're real!
And my 4 years of high school, those were spent with Genesis, my muse and BFF, talking and laughing together as we walked down the halls, ignoring the strange looks we got.
The problem is, when I turned 17, all the "angry voices" came back too.
Life's been hell on and off since then, really.

 

So there's my point. After 6+ years of living with some voices that honestly want to kill me and HAVE TRIED TO, I cannot imagine why someone would be jealous of me. This isn't fun, you know. I have legit PTSD and can't talk about it because I got it from THEM, those abusers I could never run from because they lived inside my head. That's not something most people are willing to believe.
Even worse, living with all the "nice voices" can be torture at times... there are so many of them and although I love them, I just get so worn out from moving back and forth between the physical world and their reality. But ignoring them for days or weeks-- consciously or unconsciously, because my mental condition is awful-- does nothing but damage all those involved, making it harder to repair friendships and relationships alike when I finally apologize and stumble back into their lives. I'm always so damn tired.

 

Sorry for the rant, I've just wanted to write this down somewhere for a while.
I have a lot more to say about this, now that I think about it, but it'll be going here obviously... funny how a random text post on Tumblr can help put things in perspective.

 

 

062213

Jun. 22nd, 2013 12:55 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

This new Daley song is killing me in a good way, here's why:

1. The chords obviously remind me of Chaos
2. Daley's voice is similar to Genesis' voice
3. I first heard this song when I was with Infinitii
4. The lyrics use feminine pronouns, therefore, Laurie

So it is reminding me of at LEAST 4 people, beautifully so, as usual.


In other news, I somehow got Blueshift (my old external hard drive) to work today, and she has LOTS of my old digital artwork still intact, praises be! So I'm uploading tons of it to my dA, so it doesn't get lost again.
It's hilariously ironic. Sure, I lost virtually all of my physical artwork, but I did a LOT of character design on my Macbook thanks to being able to work with colors... and that's what I'm finding, the important stuff. I didn't lose a single jot of writing, thank GOD, because that's the heartbeat of every single project I have... so I can start over with this. I really can start over, better than ever, with what pieces are left.
"Sometimes when things are falling apart, they might actually be falling into place."
That's very, very true right now.

Either yesterday or the day before (no idea, can't tell), I managed to get the AP and/or whoever was fronting out of the way long enough to find Laurie. She was glad to see me, although she was as nonchalant as ever about it-- ironically, as she was tearing up when she mentioned that "we all missed the hell out of you, kid." Leon showed up while we were talking, too, apparently sensing my appearance back upstairs (being Indigo and all); I was surprised to notice he was actually crying. He ran over and hugged me immediately, which got a sympathetic laugh out of Laurie.
I know that later on I went to meditate in my room, and after a bit we just put on my iPod to relax-- and "Last Train to London" by ELO came on? Laurie insisted I let it play, as we needed a mood booster, and ultimately we all ended up laughing and playing air guitar to it, haha. It was great. Then "Cigarettes In the Theater" by TDCC came on, and I told Leon to listen, as it was a good song-- but I didn't expect that, by the time we hit the chorus, he'd absolutely LOVE it. So that really made me smile; prior to that no one knew what sort of music Leon liked, but now we do!
Speaking of music, Empire Of The Sun's new album is coming out soon and I am psyched. Mel loves their stuff, so the band means more to me now because of that too. (I still secretly hope they can complete that Emperor Steele cosplay of theirs one day, not only because it's awesome, but also so I can cosplay as Nick Littlemore and tag along, haha.)
Really, listen to the sampler they just posted, it's lovely. DNA, Awakening, and Keep A Watch sound so gorgeous, even the previews give me chills.

It took us about two hours to fall asleep last night, I'm guessing. It took a long time. I did have Minty front while I went upstairs, and I was talking to Laurie for a while, but even when my mind started to fragment off (as it does when I fall asleep; I just "melt out" of headspace), sleep didn't hit! Then some downstairs people were getting triggered by the noise in the house, and the body felt really sick for some reason, and it was just a mess really.
Today was split into two or three "mini days" as usual; I don't know why my brain keeps doing that but it's really screwing up my temporal awareness. All the memories of the day are jumbled and fragmented too. It's tiring even to look back and try to make sense of them, like shuffling through a mountain of photographs. After a few minutes, the sheer amount of disorganized data becomes so overwhelming that I shrug and just walk away. But most memories don't get tied to me by default. Hence my not really understanding time at all anymore.

It's weird: whenever I look up help for dissociative states, people say to "practice grounding techniques." Problem is, I DO. I meditate, I know how to ground myself, all of that is easy for me. But it actually makes the dissociation worse. Remember, I don't belong downstairs. We learned that the hard way. I'm a heart alter, an inner being, born outside of a body. I can't drive flesh and bones very well, and I wasn't meant to... but, I have to, very often. So when I meditate to try and center and/or ground, guess what I naturally center into? UPSTAIRS.
Whenever I come back from meditating, I'm arguably more disoriented than I was before, albeit entirely at peace and anxiety-free, haha.

To re-visit the time bit, though... I keep wondering about my true purpose in the System, or at least my "refined" purpose. Like, other than being the White slot holder now, what is my role up here? What am I meant to hold, to release, to protect, to be protected from? I'm never sure what memories are mine, let alone if any are... and the nights are difficult enough without that worry hanging over my head.
If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I have this curse of infinite wonder. I'm burdened by infinite hope, infinite innocence. How, you ask?
Because every single night I have to learn EVERYTHING all over again. Every single night.
Half of it is beautiful, sure. Here's someone I've loved for years, but in this moment, it's as if I've just fallen in love with them all over again. That glittering instant of sincere compassion is turned into something neverending, pure and incorruptible. But that's only possible because, in order to keep it from fading, it can never become a memory. It needs to keep happening, over and over again.
So the other half of it is heartbreaking. I'm aware that there have been thousands of these moments before, but I can't actually remember any of them. I honestly don't.
I'm not sure what do do about that. Am I supposed to do anything?
All I know for sure is that I love these people... I love them more than my heart can take, but I can't remember who they are.

I miss my daughter so, so much.

I'm sorry, it's late and I'm tired and this topic deserves more time and attention than I'm capable of giving it right now.


 

 

no friends

Jun. 12th, 2013 02:14 am
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


I never actually had a friend until I was 17 years old, however hard that may be to believe. I had no interactive skills as a child, due to both a troublesome upbringing and a lack of exposure to any real social situations outside of school. So not only did I not know how to talk to people, I also had no reason to feel like I should. I was perfectly happy being utterly alone, as I was unaware of any contrary situation.

 

Then I discovered the internet, and after gaining the guts to join an artistic website, people suddenly began talking to me.
I was a laughable mess at first, as far as communication went. Everything I said and did was mimicry wrapped up in cliches, and more often than not I was simply parroting "what I felt I was supposed to say." Nevertheless, it was strangely nice, to have people actually seeing and treating me as an individual, as someone they actually wanted to interact with.

 

I latched on to about three of those individuals fairly quickly, and, unaware that they did not see me as I saw them, I considered them all my best friends.
Well, actually, it was more than that... they were my ONLY friends, too.
When, one day, I realized that they had other people to talk to besides me, it was a surprise. When I realized that I was not their best friend, it was a shock.
When it hit me that, to them, I was just some random kid on the internet, and that they had tons of friends offline who meant more to them than I ever would...

 

I've still never been anyone's best friend. I can't help but think it would be nice.

 

 

 

060913

Jun. 9th, 2013 01:44 am
prismaticbleed: (worried)

 


So my friend out West just informed me that Xenophon is still in their headspace, being taken care of by two of their system members.
I must admit I was worried sick about her, as everyone but her returned today in one way or another, and I didn't hear anything about her whereabouts or well-being, even from CZ. But apparently she's doing okay, which is a huge relief.
I just feel terrible that I can't bring her home yet. Upper headspace is still a shambles and Central is temporarily inaccessible, and I would hate to make her face that upon returning.
I suppose most of the guilt comes from my still not being convinced I'm a good enough parent for her. I'm tired of my absences in peoples lives having such repercussions. I'm tired of not being there.

Thankfully, this whole disaster might be dealt with within the next 24 hours, as Laurie is healing from the energy burnout rather quickly. She's already told me that we should outright try to "break in" to Central tomorrow morning, before things get any worse. I'm not too enthused at the thought of what we might endure in the process, but I can't let this lockout situation continue any longer either, as the Spectrum is suffering terribly (Leon's gone blind, Wally is practically catatonic, you get the picture).

24 hours is a very long time upstairs...God only knows what I'll have to say by Monday, in light of past experiences like this.
Wish us luck.

-J 

053013

May. 30th, 2013 09:53 pm
prismaticbleed: (worried)


J, listen, I don't know what's up with you and Infi lately but since he's not on here, please keep an eye on him, okay? I don't know what the heck is up, but after both Tuesday and tonight I am concerned as hell.
...I keep backspacing, I'm sorry. I'm really just trying to say "be careful" but I am worried sick and frankly I'm still not convinced of my ability to protect you anymore, especially not with Razor around. Lots of existential dread goin' on, heheh. You know what I mean.
Listen, if you have time tomorrow, let's talk. I don't care if it's on paper. We need to talk. No excuses.


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

@ 11:25 pm


Hey Tumblr, Laurie here. Tonight's been... difficult.

We had an unidentified but dangerously promiscuous alter front for an unknown period of time earlier this evening, and her actions were apparently damaging enough to not only trigger Razor, but to also send J into a semi-catatonic state due to memory cauterization.
On top of all that, I haven't seen much of Infinitii since he was attacked on Tuesday, and since he lived in a highly sterilized environment prior to that, let's just say I don't have the highest of hopes for his well-being right now.
To be blunt, I'm bloody sick of having to deal with this already. I've been fighting these shadows for years and they just keep getting darker and fiercer. Worst of all, J's consciousness keeps splintering because apparently that's "better than acknowledging the trauma" to that mangled mind of his.
Honestly I don't know what I'm even existing to do anymore, and that's not a nice feeling to have, heheh.
I'm gonna leave this post open for any comments or advice you readers may have, because honestly I am at a total loss, and that fact alone distresses me a heck of a lot.
So yeah, any thoughts?

prismaticbleed: (shatter)

I just finished Off.
What a spectacular game.

I'm still in emotionless mode, but there was one little second in the last scene where I thought I was going to cry-- the silent tearing-up kind, not the sobbing kind. So it found a chink in my armor. I didn't tear up, but I found that sudden possibility noteworthy.

"You have not purified this place. You have destroyed, eradicated it. You have immersed it into a pristine nothingness."
"It's better like that."

How marvelously depressing, that I would identify so strongly with the destroyer of worlds.

"Taste my holy wrath, corrupt souls...
I'm here to make you atone for your sins."


This is my current favorite picture of The Batter and Hugo.
I think it's obvious as to why.

I keep thinking back to February 24th... or whenever it was... the incomplete "scratch." My attempt at setting the switch of my reality to "OFF."
It didn't work then, not entirely.
I don't know if I should try again.
"Should" is the key word.


Infinitii's necklace came in the mail today.
I don't even remember who he is.

I don't remember a lot of things.

I'm very tired. The angry voices won't be quiet.
I feel as if I'm drowning in a sea of righteous rage.
I feel as if I deserve every single punishment I bring upon myself.
All the blood, all the pain, all of the despair... it is all delivered justly.


I'm the one swinging the baseball bat, insisting on my holy role,
when in fact, I'm the one who needs purification most of all.


Bis Vincit, Qui Se Vincit In Victoria.

 



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

 



I've spent the past 24 hours playing Space Funeral/ Earth Birth and Off, two beautifully bizarre RPG-maker games I've been meaning to play for some time. I've downloaded a bunch more to play in the near future (including Cave Story at long last, as my dream last night reminded me of it somehow) so that'll be cool. I will admit, though, that I am extremely picky with video games... if it doesn't "click" with me within the first hour at maximum, I'll abandon it. I only spend my time playing games/ watching movies/ etc. if I feel I am gaining something relevant from the experience, and if the experience doesn't drain me psychologically, in one way or another. Luckily, though, the two games I just mentioned were spot on successes.
I actually beat Space Funeral in its entirety about three hours ago (all 3 parts), and I loved every second of it. It also holds the honor of being the first thing to make me genuinely laugh in God knows how long-- I entered a zone called the "Cannabis Forest" and that was it, haha. Seriously, that game has my favorite style of humor: silly off-the-wall stuff like Dracula smoking weed and Leg Horse and "I am pleased with the selection of COMPLETE GARBAGE on sale!" And the soundtrack is GOLD; seriously it has stuff like this in there. So yes, I thoroughly enjoyed that game, thank you Tumblr.
I CANNOT wait to play more of Off, though (its style is even closer to my personal one, especially with the freaky angel/ghost stuff). I might put aside a few hours for it tomorrow, if I don't go to the MUM Expo... which is a good way to segue into the next topic.

As you probably know, there's a local holistic expo that I attend twice a year, whenever possible. However, this year I have limited access to transportation, and my finances are low. Since the place is mostly vendors, tarot readers, and people selling crystals/ paintings/ oils/ etc., I was seriously wondering... the whole trip would minimally cost me quite a bit of cash, what with gas money/ attendance fees/ buying readings if I wished, BUT the more I thought about it, the more I realized that all the stuff I could see or hear at the expo was stuff I already knew. (Here's a link to the recaps from 2011 and 2012, for personal review later just in case.)
But... I don't know. I would love to go, but the lack of cash is holding me back, and I don't want to shell out $50 and several hours of my time just to hear things that I didn't have the nerve to believe on my own.
That's really my big gripe with spiritual things in general right now, at least as far as "I" am concerned. I feel like I keep handing over all of my personal choices, all of my future possibilities, everything, to those who "know better than me." There was a time earlier this year when I wouldn't even leave the house without checking and comparing several horoscopes first-- God knows where that came from-- because I was utterly convinced that THEY knew my life better than I ever would. And, when I really look at my motivations for wanting to go to this Expo... they all boil down to that exact same thought: "I'm not good enough to make my own choices in life. I need to pay a spiritual person, a good and holy person, to make those choices for me. I need them to tell me who I am, where to go, and whether or not my own thoughts and feelings are true or real at all."
Honestly, if that's the sort of attitude I'd attend the expo with, I think I'd be better off not going, despite the shocks of "fear" and "hate" that spring up at the thought: fear at "abandoning my only hope of salvation," and hate at "being such a selfish pompous bastard to dare even consider that I could find the "right answers" on my own." Same thing, different phrasing.
I'm not sure how to overcome this mindset yet. I've tried to just abandon it. It keeps coming back.

I haven't been eating well, again. I've been eating nothing but beans and salad for about four days, and throwing up for about an hour afterwards each time. The feeling of food in my stomach is still traumatic. The image of this body in the mirror is still traumatic. Throwing up and having all this water pouring from my face and not being able to breathe isn't fun either. Put it all together, and the simple fact that I can't starve myself to death is sapping my will to wake up in the morning all over again.
I'm tired of spending entire days doing nothing but eating, purging, and sleeping. Problem is, when I try to do something else, my lingering lack of emotions makes it either incredibly difficult or downright impossible. That's why I was so enthralled by Space Funeral today. It was simple enough that my brain could easily just walk around mindlessly, but the bits of humor actually had me feeling something for the first time in a long, long time. Looking back on it, though, it feels alien and distant, like I wasn't even the person playing the game at all. Maybe I wasn't, who knows. I can't tell anymore. I don't know who I am anymore. Maybe this is just the autopilot typing again. It's very likely; that seems to be the norm.

Hyperbole and a half recently posted a very relevant comic on this whole phenomenon I'm experiencing, actually, which makes me wonder. Am I depressed? I would never think so, as I don't feel anything and I don't cry or do anything like that... but her presentation of the condition hit so close to home it was rather unsettling. Several parts are almost exact quotes from my own life. So it's worth considering.
Speaking of relevance, I just started reading "When Rabbit Howls" by Truddi Chase, a multiple system consisting of over 90 individuals. Already only 10 pages in, this is reflecting my life just as strongly as "First Person Plural" did. I'm apparently still a victim of denial's bloody rake, though, to quote Cameron. No matter how much proof I get that, yes, we DO exist and we ARE a real, legitimate system just like theirs, I will deny it vehemently. "It's fake." "I'm making it all up." "I'm just a liar and a manipulative narcissist." I believe those statements, not the other ones... I don't believe it when I hear "we exist and we care about you," or "I was talking to Laurie today," or "you're not a bad father," or "I really do love you." I'll face all those statements with a poker face and a steel-cold response of "none of this is real."
And I'll sleep my days away, not even remembering my dreams because how can you remember dreams if you don't even remember your self? How can you dream if you don't exist?

I'm going to shut down for the night anyway. I'm so tired of computers. I need to be careful... all my music programs are on this one, so no matter how badly I wish this one would break, too, I can't let that happen, or that's several hundred dollars and several years of work down the drain (again).

One "good" thing... my mother actually approved my decision to start hormone therapy over the summer. I did not expect that.
The problems that remain: finding transportation to Philadelphia, finding a place to stay once HRT begins, obtaining enough money to fund all of it, explaining this to the rest of the family.
That's quite a list yet but at least we're moving. I can see my future a tiny bit now, and when I'm tuned into the fact that "this can be a reality at long last," all my procrastination and fear and self-doubt evaporates, and suddenly life feels worth living again, for a moment.
Then the horrible fear that "she was right, this makes you a heathen and a devil and a sinner, you were born in this body so stay that way, any pain and suffering you have is selfish and sinful and false. If you transition, you will be damned to hell."

At the end of the day, I'm still dying, bit by bit by bit.

 



 

 

bitten

May. 8th, 2013 09:53 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 


A bit of bad news.

I had a yearly doctor's appointment this morning that left me sobbing and shaking uncontrollably in the patient room. The doc (who had seen me for the past 3 years in just as awful a condition) asked what was wrong, and I got the guts to admit I had PTSD and was trans. No other details, just "that's why this is so horrifying for me."
I was almost hysterical when they left me alone. When you have to close your eyes and bite your tongue just to get dressed, praying desperately to God to "make it all stop," you know there's a problem.
But I drove home as if none of it had ever happened. I'm used to that, too.

It rained all day today. That helped so much.
I got home and Laurie was asking me why my emotions were so hard to feel. I said it was because my love was like the sun: "it's always there, shining quietly, yet sometimes I get so used to its radiance that I almost forget why its there. Then storm clouds appear, as they always do, and when everything becomes black and gray and dark I can't remember having ever seen the sun before in my life... but then, it rains. And I remember everything."
She told me to write that down, so I did. It's very true.

Jess wanted to eat fruit all day, and she got so angry when I repeated "no" that, around noon, I gave in and let her have some. She was satisfied, but she left as soon as she had decided the appeal was gone... and I found myself having to endure two hours of awful broken-glass pain all through my torso. Emmett kept trying to vomit it up out of anxiety but I said no, that would just make us sicker. So I exercised for two hours until the pain faded.
I read some more Sandman comics until my mom came home with dinner and an angel food cake (yesterday was the body's birthday; I forgot). She gave me $35 and two shirts, which was nice. Problem is, then I decided "well, it's angel food cake (and Infi loves the stuff); a little bit shouldn't hurt, right?"

As Razor said an hour later... you were dead wrong.

It was one of those incidents when I regained awareness with my eyes closed and a burning all over my body. I hesitantly opened one, and saw red. I closed it again.
Laurie and I tried to figure out what had just happened: we hadn't been warned, it didn't feel manic... but no, it was another stupid "consuming" trigger that set her off. Anything that boosts the feeling of "taking up space" or "being heavy" makes her come out. So that's why eating makes her appear-- it adds substance and weight. That's Tar material. It's exactly what she needs.
Anyway. Laur and I tried to get a feel for what had just occurred, and I was terrified to realize that there HADN'T been any mania. No, she had come out completely quietly, locked the door behind her, and taken out the razor. Her sadism and hatred was hanging in the air as strongly as ever, but this time it stung, like needles stabbing the air, sharp and cruel. Whatever she did, it was coldly intentional, motivated by hate and hate alone.
There was a lot of blood. I felt so sorry for the body, then. What did it do to deserve this? We didn't choose it. Now look at it, swollen and lacerated. I felt bad for it... but that didn't last long, as I was then aware that I was in it, and the shocking dread of dysphoria sank its teeth into my neck like a python and I almost wanted to tear the skin off my bones as well. I felt horrendously guilty, but it was true.

The child voice was slipping badly just now; I had the impression of it hugging itself, petrified, staring at nothing. It kept repeating, almost mindlessly, "I don't like round and soft things. I don't like them at all. They're scary. They're so scary. They're bad. Bad bad bad." Things like that. I was so disturbed myself that I offered to let it write or talk or something, to let it all out, but the thought of having to inhabit the body was apparently so abhorrent that it immediately "flickered out" into silence and imperceptibility. That's when I sat down here and decided to type instead.

...I'm scared of Razor. I'll admit it. I really am.
Jess doesn't attack me often. She did today, but I don't remember it. Point is, though, Jess is just loud and disturbing and she makes daily life very difficult. She's a threat to our sanity and ability to function properly, but she's not a threat to our life. Razor is.
...It was the last cut I noticed, today, but it was the worst. Yes, our legs and chest and stomach were in tatters again, but that was normal. Then I looked up, higher, and suddenly I noticed the thin, cruel necklace of red lines.
I was in shock-- and imagine how Laurie felt. There was no mistaking it; with that brazen action, Razor was threatening to kill us. She was telling us, "I'm not afraid to cut deeper next time." I haven't been that frightened in quite a while, to say the least.
But yeah. This incident was also near proof that no, we can't stop her from fronting, at least not with our current knowledge. We asked a few other multiples on Tumblr for advice and that was all they could give us. "Just don't let her front, can't you do that?" Can you? Honestly, are other systems that nicely managed, that they can literally prevent people from fronting? I'm very happy for them if they are, but the suggestion was a shock at first. "What do you mean "don't let her;" would we be asking if we could?"
I tried talking, I tried pleading, I tried begging. It didn't work. They tried to kill me upstairs too.

The reason for their unfailing sabotage is simple.
Jess anchored to powerlessness, to rebellion. If you tell her to do/ not to do something, she will automatically disobey with spite and malice. So asking her to give us a break may simply be exacerbating the situation. She wants to do whatever we don't want to do. Reason will not budge her.
Razor anchored to hatred. She was born in the first real moment of self-hatred I had ever felt, and since then she's perpetuated it with ravenous glee. She won't listen to us because she hates us, and wants us to die. She doesn't want to die, though, as far as I can tell... which is likely the only reason the body is still standing. Unless she can guarantee her continued existence elsewhere, I don't think those lines around our neck will get any deeper. I hope not. I hope to God she doesn't take the risk.


I'm very tired, inside and out. I didn't get much sleep, I think. I don't really remember.
I'm forgetting how to type and spell again. I feel like Delirium, a little. Maybe.

Wisdom hides even in shadow.
I don't care what Razor did.
It rained today. And for those blissful moments, I remembered.
That is all that matters here.

 



 

 

 

shards

May. 2nd, 2013 01:01 pm
prismaticbleed: (worried)

 


Quick update. I have internet access for a very short time this morning, and this is literally the only site I can access.
However, life has once again demonstrated its tendency to shove a mountain of new info on me in ridiculously short time periods, so here you go.

At least two "new" "alters" showed up over the past 24 hours. Both of those words are in quotations because:
1) I don't use the world 'alters" personally, as it feels incorrect, but these are NOT headvoices, and all seem to be tied to the body, and
2) A few of them have been around for a long time.

The most familiar one is the "musical one." This is the one I often refer to, amusedly, as the "punk rocker." She's hilariously loud and extroverted, always yelling and whooping and acting like life is a concert, but she's never in a bad mood. The pro: she is an amazing musician, and is the one who plays piano and actually wrote most of the stuff on my Last.fm. The con: She cannot front around other people yet. Yeah, as long as we're home alone, she can front for HOURS, but the moment someone walks in the door, boom, she is gone. She often shows up when I'm driving a car-- I, Jewel, cannot listen to music when I drive (as I melt into it and lose most of my outside comprehension), but she BLASTS it. So if the body's driving and someone is loudly singing along and laughing at the same time, it's not me. It's her.
She's one of the alters that can ONLY exist as a consciousness in the body, and seems unable to anchor upstairs? Trying to give her a name or talk to her makes her disappear immediately. So maybe interaction in general completely nullifies her presence. We'll see.
Weirdly though, she's VERY similar to whoever was the main body front during 2003-2005 or so, until I started socializing online and someone else was born. This would mean she is the ORIGINAL "spinningcannon," although that name's energy has been so mutilated over the years that it only matches the online presence of the same name-- a histrionic, flattering, hypocritical girl who is unfortunately the person who made most of our "online friends." What's bizarre though is that she can only exist ONLINE-- once relationships started moving offline (especially with Q), she suddenly began degenerating rapidly, and the first hints of "Jess" appeared.
We're getting off topic though. I need to research this voice more, as it poses as many questions as it answers.

The newest voice is far more stable, and appears to be a "solidification" of two body-states that ALWAYS push me out of fronting. The first is the "logical" state, which actually was active for my ENTIRE therapy session last week-- my only recollection of that session is someone looking at the bookcase and explaining, "that reaction made no sense." This one's the super-analyst, that will find all logical inconsistencies it can. The second state is the "professional" one-- an emotionally unruffled one that is all business and has no time for small talk or friendliness. These two voices appeared to "fuse" yesterday evening, during an event that apparently triggered them both simultaneously-- I remember hearing them both thinking in conflict, and the mental "noise" was so loud I was hiding upstairs wishing it would all just stop already. Unusually, as of this morning (when it had to discuss legal things with the body's father) this voice seems to have named itself "Mulberry Delta," and it is a very professionally-dressed woman as far as body-overlays go. It has hair in this style, but in a raspberry pink kind of like this. I know this because I mentally questioned the oddness of that sort of hair on such a stoic voice, wondering if I was perceiving it correctly, and the voice actually responded, admonishing me that it could "have whatever sort of hair it wanted to."
The problem with this voice is that it feels wrong. I'm serious. There's a very foreboding, heavy aura around it that does NOT bode well at ALL. This is almost definitely because, with THAT color, she fits into one of the "mutated slots" that I've theoretically drawn into our current Headspace map... Razor had been holding their potential since last year, but Jess' reappearance added enough extra punch for them to "lock in." Why am I so worried? Because each mutant slot has THREE parts. The third color in their unholy trinity is a reddish pink.
The other mutant trio is Cyan, Teal, and either Ice or Mint (depending on the slot lineup)... currently Kyanos and Emmett are the only ones there, but according to Nathaniel, as of last night Kyanos has de-stabilized enough to "fade away" again. Whatever that kid is anchored to, it's not stable, and Nat knows better than all of us (as he experienced this same terrible thing), if we don't fix that, Kyanos will die and possibly reset again. But we'll get to that.

Let's go back to Jess for a while, as I'm learning more about her by the day. She's the angry, narcissistic, selfish, complaining one, that we've realized is the reason why we've been a mess downstairs lately-- at least for the most part. See, she identifies with the body, and therefore the body's name. So when people call "her" name... she comes out, angry and scathing and hate-filled. She's chronically pessimistic and doesn't want to do anything but argue when she's out... because, as you may remember, we've discovered that she and Razor are intrinsically linked.
Jess is the one that screams when she gets through. She screams whenever she doesn't get what she wants, like a demon child throwing a tantrum... and often, "what she wants" is for none of us upstairs to exist. Jess whines and complains and insults and shouts, but she never cries. That's the main difference between her and the old Jessica... the old one cried and hated herself, whereas this new one shouts and hates everyone else. This new Jess is "happy" as long as the world idolizes her, doing only what she wants, never criticizing or correcting her, and not talking to her unless she says they're allowed to speak. She's a princess in an evil kingdom, and the moment you question her corrupted rule, she will spit her undying hatred at you with a voice like a raid siren, and if you persist, well, then she'll turn and leave... and immediately there will be a knife in your back.
That's Razor. I cannot think of a single instance where this new Jess has appeared without Razor following in close pursuit, and that's a problem, considering how often Jess is showing up nowadays.
Razor is maniacally energetic, and never stops grinning. Problem is, she exists solely to kill us. She was born in the first ever incident when I tried to cause the body hate-fueled pain, and suddenly my consciousness shattered and someone else was there, giggling madly and watching the blood run down, holding a razor in its hand. Then suddenly everyone was upstairs, and there she was, this red-haired insane thing, holding her namesake weapon and running at me with it. Laurie and her fought while I shook uncontrollably somewhere, barely aware of what was happening, only knowing that something important just broke, something vital was just cracked in half. An eternity later, Laurie emerged victorious, her axe the color of that thing's eyes, and I don't remember the next several years.
Razor was nothing but a fever dream until last February. Since then, she's been a living nightmare. Now, that nightmare is overtaking my waking hours, and I'm desperate to wake up. I try to remind myself that she's not me, I'm not her, and that helps a little... but it doesn't do much to alleviate the horror that hits me when I'm suddenly standing in a locked bathroom, looking down at lines of blood searing across our skin.
This needs to stop. I'm just not sure how to do that yet.
There's a bit of hope though. Since both Jess and Razor seem to be strangely anchored to "home situations"-- they are very easily triggered here, but not when we're outside, and when we stayed with my dad for that while in 2010, they gained strength with every extra day we were there-- we MIGHT be able to stay upstairs in my dad's rented place for a while, and see if that helps. And hey, even if that doesn't work, our dad almost never uses the body's name to refer to us. That alone should be an advantage for us.
I'll have to talk it over with the system, and work things out downstairs in terms of what to bring with me-- since I've lost most of my possessions, I thankfully can literally live out of a suitcase right now. Maybe by this weekend we'll have a solid decision. Now we just need a job, so we can buy safe food... but we're working on that, too. Positive thoughts, gentlemen.

While we're on this topic, there are a few other "voices" that I know DO exist, as they've been triggered enough times in the past for me to be aware of their specific existences, but their appearances are rare enough that I can't really get a grip on what, let alone who, they are.
All of them are disturbingly hard to disengage once they are fronting, meaning that I am always relegated to an outside observer, often to my absolute protest, until they either become overloaded and "short out," or someone upstairs has enough power to literally punch through their front (usually Laurie).
They are:

1) A young male child, who is terrified of touch and anything connected to intimacy or closeness. He's been previously triggered by: physical contact, certain vocal tones (hissing the "s," clicking tongues, any stereotypically "girly" speech pattern), phrases such as "hug me," "come to bed," etc., especially if they insinuate involvement with another person, certain kinds of lingerie, and (oddly) women's dress shoes. He stutters uncontrollably, cries openly in an unusual high-pitched way, whimpers a lot, and will try to run away immediately upon being triggered: if he can't, he'll start sobbing hysterically. This is the voice Kyanos seemed to somehow anchor to (possibly due to slot conflict, IF these voices are behaving as such), which I will elaborate on later.
2) A young adult male, who is only triggered by either the previous voice's methods failing, OR by being suddenly trapped in a situation where he needs to be close to another individual. He is emotionally dead and will do whatever he is told to do without protest, but if he is put through too much pain he will often cry silently, although he will avert his eyes and attempt to muffle his own voice in the process. Despite this he is unnervingly hard to remove from fronting.
3) A female voice who fronts almost every time we need to interact with people downstairs. She feels strongly like a physical remnant of "spinningcannon" though, and may well be so, especially since this voice can EASILY switch right over to Jess, often within a split second. In contrast to Jess, though, this voice seems to run almost ENTIRELY on "pre-programmed" phrases and actions, and she is very histrionic. The biggest problem with her is that, since she's basically automated, if you try and get her to act or speak in any way that requires "individuality," such as asking "what are your hobbies" or telling her to buy something she wants, she will immediately disappear and-- if no one else steps up to the plate-- send the body into a frozen "standby" mode. If forced to continue, she WILL weasel her way out of whatever situation she is stuck in-- this is why "I" often seem to make appointments and cancel them later; she loves to act like the perfect person, as long as she doesn't have to commit to anything. When she is asked to, she shuts off/down, and either of the Jess's come out instead. This voice the one that gets caught in most of our photos, many of which (ironically) Jess has actually destroyed.
4) POSSIBLY the old "Jessica?" You know, the whiny, self-pitying, chronically depressed one. A voice like this HAS come out, a rare few times, but those times matched the old Jessica's vibe so strongly that I'm beginning to suspect she's either re-forming, or her old energy went to someone else. We're trying to stomp this one out before it grabs any sort of anchor though.
5) POSSIBLY some sort of red-haired version of me that ONLY appears in situations of extreme body dysphoria? This happened three times last week and Laurie and I were both freaking out. We're worried that maybe this is remnant negative energy from the Red slot I left expressing itself, but we have no real idea yet. We're not that concerned about this one though, since there's so much dissociation going on normally that we're rarely even aware of the body-- and when we are, voice #1 or #2 are often the ones coming out instead, before sending the body into a catatonic sort of shock until someone jolts a real fronter in.
6) Three other males that are triggered by "overloading" on sociability or extroversion (I call them the gent, the maverick, and the queen, respectively). "The Gent" has a sort of British accent and comes out the most frequently; he is mostly composed, but perpetually amused, and he "loves adventure." As of late he's shown signs of developing a sense of self, and was even trying to name himself the other day. He walks in a very stately manner, hands crossed at the wrist behind his back. "The Maverick" has a raspier voice, and is a "motivator" more than anything-- the few times he's come out, he's expressed impatience with mundane schedules and his want to "experience the world for all it's worth." Despite this he has a level demeanor as well. He also likes to sing, which I find endearing. He walks with a relaxed slouch, thumbs looped through either belt loops or pocket corners. "The Queen" is flamboyantly gay and speaks with a lisp; oddly though he can only come out in speech, typically to express his approval or disapproval of something that has just happened downstairs. When he tries to move the body in any major way, though (walking, etc.), he immediately "fades out," often being taken over for by the Gent. All of these voices seem to be aware of each others presence, and have even tried to converse through successive fronting in the past (which REALLY played havoc with my head afterwards). None of them appear to be attached to any trauma or negativity either, and so they may just be a result of my mind compartmentalizing those more "stressful" positive emotions so that I am not overloaded or burnt out by them-- simply talking is enough to overwhelm me at times, so encountering such wild emotional states upon fronting would be far too much for me to handle. Also importantly, NONE of these voices can appear around other people, in stark contrast to the previous three, who can ONLY appear around other people. I'm not sure why this is. One last note is that these voices seem to be bleeding into each other in terms of energy signatures, so they may all eventually collapse, or fuse, who knows. I'll let you know.


That's enough of that though. Let's get back to Kyanos, as I'm running out of both battery and Internet time and I need to mention him.
Here's a recap: he was created THROUGH the death of another voice, the placeholder that took over for me immediately after the Scratch. To quote myself, "The body clearly recalls it sacrificing itself in a surge of tragic joy to "create a boy from the blue of the sky." That boy promptly became the running consciousness in the body, and later took the name "Kyanos." However he must not have anchored well, for although he WAS "me" (what a silly word) for at least two or three hours, outside shadows somehow managed to chase him out."
The memory banks have a recollection of the insane mental jumble he was going through right before his consciousness "dissipated," and to my shock and anger, it was filled with those weird "outside voices" that often taunt me downstairs. I don't know if those are literally outside voices-- like spirits or demons-- or if they're part of the Tar, but I do know that their sole purpose is to throw me off track with awful taunts and false promises ("shut up you faggot," "you're only a good boy if you don't eat," "who cares, you're already a slut," etc.) and they are so good at faking good intentions that if I don't get Laurie to help me, I can easily be misled. But yeah, the second Laurie shows up, they run... probably because she loathes them and they pissed her off enough in the past to feel the taste of her axe before.
Anyway, the reason I'm worried about Kyanos is because he's mirroring Nat's past, practically. Both of their initial incarnations were positive and naive, and they both only began forming a "self" minutes before they died for the first time. Both of their second incarnations were unstable, but I'm worried because Nat was KILLED almost exactly a month after he was reborn. Kyanos has been with us in this new form since the 23rd (10 days), BUT he seemed to be re-forming on the 13th, and was between his original mindset AND his tentative new one at the time.
About Kyanos's "new mindset," though... to quote our system update from that event, "his behavior is very distressing: he stutters, cries a lot, and is constantly claiming that he misses his "mom and dad" and that he "wants them to be happy." Despite this he is terrified of being touched, and even the suggestion of such from a downstairs family member ("can I hug you?") can be traumatic enough for him that he will burst into tears and try to run. We have no idea what has caused any of this yet."
That mindset has showed up SINCE then, UNCONNECTED TO HIM. I actually spoke to Kyanos himself the other day (I forget the date; my temporal comprehension is shot), and not only did he look completely different than he did upon manifesting, his demeanor was completely different-- he was calm, but expressed confusion at why he was acting like that in response to certain triggers. I tried to explain, the best I could, that he was in no danger, but those "triggers" might be tied to unconscious reactions from the past. I also explained the parental situation to him-- unfortunately he did not have biological parents, but the body did, if he wanted to associate with them. Oddly, he kept shaking his head though, claiming he was very confused, and that he couldn't tell how he felt about any of it. That was an immediate warning sign for me, so I'm actually not surprised (although I am upset) that, last night, Nathaniel did inform us that Kyanos had "de-manifested." I can't find his energy upstairs anywhere, when I look... BUT, something really weird happened last night that I'm going to use as a segue into our final topic.
See, during his first few hours of life, the reason I knew Kyanos's name was just that is because he WROTE it on a piece of scrap paper. I still have it, as it's utterly bizarre to look at.
I don't know what to think now, though, because last night he ghostwrote HALF A PAGE.

Let me start by saying that I probably jumpstarted this entire "writing" phenomenon for bodiless voices back in early April, back when adflixerunt was still a thing-- it quickly became a place for both Jess and Razor to scream in lurid pink letters. However, on this particular day, some sugar-induced voice came through in the body, and I was lucid enough to force her to pick up a pencil. After all, I had just started therapy, and this rarely happened, so why not get proof of it?
Whoever the voice was, they weren't happy with it. In jagged pencil letters over two pages, they scrawled several brutal phrases, after which I came back exhausted and scared, but sickly thankful that I had managed to succeed in my plan to record the event.
That was it, at least until two days ago, when Razor came out and cut those gashes into us. Possibly in spite, she picked up the journal I had just chosen for headspace conversations, and in blood she wrote "DIE" three times over the first two pages. Needless to say that scared the hell out of me when I saw it.
Yesterday, however, topped even that.
I have no memory of most of the day, thanks to all the splinter/ alter/ voice/ whatever action going on... but my memory picks up sitting at my computer table, a pen in my hand and a tablet open on the table in front of me, looking down at a furious sentence in purple ink at the top of the page: "KID, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE."

I'll talk more about that later, though. My online time is up, and I literally have to log off right now.

 



 

 

 

041813

Apr. 28th, 2013 03:21 pm
prismaticbleed: (scared)

 

...I just experienced explicit dissociation, for a few minutes.
I was in the kitchen, and suddenly it hit me that hey, I haven't been conscious for a few minutes, what's going on? But when I tried to "become aware" of what I was doing, I found myself floating above the body somehow, mentally?? And someone else was acting in my absence, some nameless thing. I couldn't quite stop them until I forced myself down, and even then, speaking and moving consciously took a lot of effort.
I left the room, disturbed, but then I found myself facing disturbing memories and thoughts that were definitely not mine, and had obviously never happened downstairs. Although I immediately shouted "that's not me!" to the shadows, suspecting this was one of their tricks, for the first time I noticed that those feelings felt too real to be fake. Then it hit me: those feelings belonged to someone else.

 

So yeah. I'm... I guess I'm not really the main driver of this system. I thought I was, but I always ignored the huge gaps in my memory, the blatant and disorienting disconnectedness from the downstairs life I'd supposedly been living for 23 years (something I've always had a problem with, as I'm definitely an inspaced fictive).
It also explains the old "splintering" phenomenon, even more clearly... although that's not something I'm eager to review.

This explains a lot, who am I kidding, but it's terribly scary... this means that there are people upstairs that I do not know about, and they are not headvoices.

I... think there are least three, maybe four? I'm not sure. I'm not in any proper state of mind to check right now.

tl;dr relevance for this blog: I will not consciously update here if I am not driving. Now that I'm aware of slips, I will be more careful, and if any out-of-place posts show up here despite my efforts I will delete them.

Life just got a lot stranger, I guess. We'll get through it though.

 

backlash

Apr. 7th, 2013 09:14 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

I feel horrible. My mum just came home, upset and hopeless after yet another major fight with her boyfriend, so she can't stay the night at his place. According to her, she is "sick of always fighting" with him-- something I wasn't even aware was going on. However, she can't stay here for the night either, because my grandmother moved all her stuff out and gave ME her room.
That's awful! I don't deserve any of this, she does. Why am I the one being taken care of here? Why can't I be the one in pain instead?
Just... this is yet another reason why I blame myself for getting thrown out of SLC. Even though I've purged that experience from my memory, I do know that if I hadn't left there-- if my family hadn't insisted on bringing me home so I'd have food and transportation (or so they said when I asked why), two things I really don't care about anyway-- and if I hadn't screwed everything over with the two people I had been staying with, maybe I could have stayed. Then my mom could move back in here, and have a place to sleep at night. But then I'd just continue to be a burden on two other people, a fact I was well aware of from the day I first set foot in that strange western state.
I remember living with my father, back in 2010, during my last "psychological hell" time period like this. He was never home either. The one time he was, that I remember, was the night I was so depressed and sick that I couldn't eat, and he shouted at me for it. It scared me so much, I was willing to eat garbage if it would make him stop.

I still want to move out, to be by myself, once again just like I did back in 2010. Still, there are several pressing problems keeping me from doing so: 1. Rent isn't cheap. I need a steady income before I can afford even the shoddiest two-room apartment in town here, and there aren't many jobs available, let alone any that aren't part-time minimum wage puppy mill positions. 2. If I did land an apartment of my own, I know for a fact that I wouldn't eat. I wouldn't spend a penny on food. 3. I have no connections outside of my immediate family anymore, and even they are fading away either from age or apathy. Not that it matters; it's just that as long as I am still afraid to give up and live on the streets, I'm going to be stuck grasping at straws for support.
Truly, I don't even want a home. You remember I said that I hate homes. I despise places where I "belong," or am allowed to do so. They feel completely unsafe and stagnant. I want to live somewhere where I'm being "tolerated," somewhere I need to follow everyone else's strict rules, where I am treated as a stranger that cannot and will not stay for an indefinite period of time.
I want to travel. I want to move. I want to house-hop if at all possible. I want to live on the road; I want to live in hotel rooms and park benches and the backseats of cars. I don't know why. It's always been a morbidly secret dream of mine, though... to be the "invisible man," the wandering soul, who doesn't have a place to call his own, because the whole world is his home.
One day, I'm just going to throw caution to the wind and start walking. The only thing keeping me from doing so is a stupidly ironic fear of death. I know, far too well, that I'd invite him in sooner than I'd try to survive. Some selfish part of me isn't that hopeless, not yet.
Secretly, I wish it were.


Today was Divine Mercy Sunday. I went to mass and floundered through a vague confession because I didn't know how to tell the priest how many sins were on my soul. It scared me to death, looking at my conscience, and seeing nothing but black. In the past few months alone, I've done so many things I'd swore I'd never do... I've broken so many promises, destroyed so many trusts and friendships, destroyed so much of myself. I've been wrecking my life without a care for longer than I can remember. And today, when it was time to 'fess up, I was legitimately frightened at just how far I'd fallen.
It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I hate to admit it, but when I was told that I was just that bad of a person, it was the last straw. It was the breaking point. And since then, for the most part, I've just stopped caring. I resigned myself to being the bad guy, the villain, the antihero. If I really was selfish and cruel and unfeeling and destructive, even after years of trying not to be, then so be it. If that was all I was, deep down under the surface, then why keep fighting it? And although my boss and moirail and daughter all keep insisting that that mindset of mine is utter rubbish, I still believe it. Even if it's 100% false, right now, I can't see that.
How did I fall this far? What's happened to me? Who am I, really?
The answer: nothing. I am nothing. I need to stop trying to be something.

They say that today, all your sins can be forgiven.
I'd better not screw this up.

 

 

unreachable

Apr. 6th, 2013 05:35 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

Okay, update two for today because I just remembered several things I forgot to talk about what with the insanity that has been life lately.

First, although I'm settling quite nicely into this post-scratch timeline, I've realized a problem. Stuff from the old timeline is lingering, in places where energy sticks.
Yes, our past actions and history were "deleted" when the scratch-reset occurred, but they still happened, and their consequences still echo through space and time.
Tumblr contributed to this realization too, with a post I just saw on my dashboard concerning Doctor Who: "it’s just been The Doctor solving all the problems encountered by simply resetting the universe so that none of said problems happened or ever will happen, but everyone conveniently remembers the events prior to the reset anyway."
Sandman warned me about all of that. He said that even if I deleted my personal timeline, it would "still exist" in that vague sense, and it would also be accessible to those who knew how to reach it... and I do have a Doctor-esque fellow actively trying to reconstruct our past-life after it was torn to shreds.
Don't get me wrong, I love my boss to death, but the fact that no one would let me permanently die just ticks me off.
Why in the world else would I go through all of that psychological torment to sever myself from headspace?? I was trying to get a "game over." I DIDN'T WANT TO CONTINUE.
But, apparently I was "supposed to." My dying in the scratch attempt wasn't something that could happen, apparently.
Then again, that's what I was talking about in this entry...

And then there's the glaring yet astounding fact that other people didn't want me to die.
I never factored that concept into my decision. It really didn't even cross my mind.
I wanted to die, to fade away forever, and I didn't care whether or not people would miss me. I still don't.
I still lie awake at night, praying for it to happen again, that this time I would be wiped out when the record broke, that this time I would fade away when the second hand stopped moving. I pray that, this time, no one will come back for me, and I can finally fade away into oblivion.
But every time, I remember what I was told.
"Child, you don't understand the extent of what you have just tried to do."
For some dumb reason I'm supposed to live. I don't understand why. Apparently it's important. Apparently I'm important.
All I know for sure is that I'm sick of being a narcissist and I hate being important already.
I don't want to screw up, and take everyone else down with me.


Anyway. That's enough of that.

In other news, I was forced to log back into my series-based dA account lately, because extra-fenix was selling commissions and I used my last $5 to buy THIS for Xenophon for her birthday.

Why yes, that is her, as a Chao.
I absolutely could not pass up that opportunity. It was too perfect.

I do need sleep though, and I need to try and fix whatever the heck in me caused that depressive meltdown just now.
Plus headspace is just... insane, lately. I still don't know whether or not I should continue my huge "go back and review + document everything" project concerning my old entries, because that takes up a lot of time and effort, and it wears me out. Still, it may be required, what with all the old things resurfacing.

I don't know. It just doesn't seem worth it, some days.
I mean... one of the biggest reasons why I tried to scratch everything to pieces on the 24th was so that I could work on my series again. Unfortunately the scratch attempt itself was so psychologically harrowing that I couldn't work for that first week, at all, and that weekend was when my boss suddenly appeared and was all "dude that was not cool," albeit in much more Sandman-y language.
But, since then, I really haven't worked on my "work" at all... and part of it is actually because (once again) I'm sick of being "important." Part of me is actually sick and tired of everyone asking me "oh, have you done any drawings lately?" "are you still writing music?" "you need to get your book published!"
Stop. Please, just stop. THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME.
I've said it a thousand times and I will say it again: I only do this work because I was TOLD TO. I was given dreams and visions and all sorts of other messages telling me "you're the only person that can write our story down."
And you know what? Now, I honestly wish that I could give that honor to someone else.
I really wish I could just watch those stories unfold, instead of being in them. I love seeing other people get involved in the story. I love seeing their joy in reading and becoming part of it. What I DON'T love is being forced to be the "focal point" of all that simply because I'm the "author."
I would rather just be part of the crowd, loving those stories just as much as the next guy.
I don't know. I really don't know what to do here. I've lost all sense of purpose in my life; it feels utterly meaningless and I am literally counting the days until I just don't wake up anymore. I can't see my future like I used to when I first started to move into the White slot, back when I split my identity for that purpose. Maybe I should do that again.

Here's another thought. I just stumbled across a video on Youtube with a hero and sidekick pair, and the sidekick literally did EVERYTHING the hero told him to, without complaint, even at the risk of his own health or well-being.
I want to be like that, so badly. I want to be so selfless that I don't give a thought to what I'd "like or dislike" in any situation. I want to be able to suffer through hell and back if someone asks me to, without looking back even once, and doing the whole damn thing over again in a heartbeat if they weren't happy with my efforts the first time.
I want to be a nobody. I don't want an identity at all. I don't want a self. I don't want individuality or wants or needs or preferences or opinions, and I sure as hell don't want some godforsaken black tar shit insisting to the contrary.

Right now, I'm going to sleep, and forget everything.



Look who's running off again
Stupid useless aging wreck

But he will live this life
On his own time
On his own time

All their daggers have his name
But he loves them all the same

And he will live this life
On his own time
On his own time

We all circle back on decisions we made
Discover we're in crisis yet again

It's only your life
It's only your life
It's only your life
It's only your life

 

 

 

prismaticbleed: (soniccity)

 

 

Okay, update time.
Let's start off with the daily basics.

First, I've been breaking out in hives after eating for the past three days, accompanied by dizziness and nausea. Problem is, I can't pinpoint what's doing this. It's hard to keep food down and frankly it's scary just to eat anymore, what with how sick it seems to invariably make me feel. I'm thinking of doing a vegetable fast from now until my surgery, and pray that takes care of the problem. If not... we'll see. Either way, though, my weird eating disorder is getting worse. I'll only "eat" when no one else is in the room so I can spit it right back out; swallowing food makes me nauseous. However, if I am in the room with other people, my chewing addiction will STILL kick in, and since I'm trying so hard to "entertain" or otherwise amuse those other people, I'll end up eating a ton of food without realizing it. That's when I end up trying to vomit it all back up. Problem is, I'm tired of it. My throat is raw and sore, I keep coughing, my nose burns, my stomach hurts. I don't want to keep doing this. I just spent my last $10 this week on food that I promptly threw up, now leaving me broke with nothing to show for it and no job until after surgery (and possibly school as well) is over. Even worse, I'm burning through my family's money, which I've already mentioned, but which haunts me constantly. I'm trying to scrape some dollars together to buy some sort of mouth guards, anything to put in my mouth so I can't put food in there when I feel that driving need to bite or chew. My arms are covered in scabs the way it is. But you've all heard enough about that, and I don't want to talk about it.
Speaking of talking about things, our second point is that I started therapy this morning. It's difficult though, as this guy is the kind of therapist that makes ME do all the talking. Oh well, I suppose therapy is therapy. So I'm doing what I can in sessions. One good thing is that he DID tell me that he "doesn't treat patients as collections of symptoms," basically, like my previous therapist did. This guy said, specifically, that he will treat me as an individual first and foremost, so "finding a therapy method that meshes with my multiple diagnoses" isn't even a concern here, thank God. He also told me almost immediately that "our goal here is to talk about whatever is on your mind," with "whatever is on my mind" being defined as the things that don't leave it, so to speak. The first thing that pops into my consciousness when he says that is what I should discuss, with no censorship-- although that is still very difficult for me. Still, I at least had the guts to explain my gender troubles to him briefly today. It took up most of the session but since it's my most pressing concern, I'm very glad it's at least out in the open... not shoved under the rug like I've done in the past. However he keeps prodding me to talk about my "abusive history," which I haven't clarified (obviously) because of how bizarre said history is to me. On that note, no, I didn't mention headspace yet and I actually might not in that context, unless an unintentional slip or insurmountable psychological obstacle forces my hand. I am terrified of dealing with another 2008 confrontation where the nature of reality is concerned, so I can't help but tread lightly now when I am all but obligated to bring it up. Still, at the moment I am strongly considering referring to them ALL as "long-distance friends," but I don't want him to pull the "people online aren't who they say they are" card either, which would just make his perception of them worse (by assuming I don't actually know them, which I most definitely do). However, I think I've invented a way to talk about my past abuse at the hands of the Tar... instead of talking about Julie (as her redemption story is FAR too difficult to explain to an outsider), I will refer to the Tar itself as a girl named Tara, who I 'met in elementary school' but who wasn't in my grade.' It's a reasonable enough fabrication, and it would make the whole thing a LOT easier... I hope. Problem is, there are some theoretically impassible snags that I'm already encountering while reviewing the whole ruse. Laurie says the biggest one is "then when and where did this 'Tara' abuse you if you've already claimed you had no social contacts as a child?" Of course I could claim she was the only one, but really I don't want to get all tangled up in falsehood... geez this is awful. Why am I so scared to bring this up? I want to finally discuss this with a therapist after burying the pain (which I STILL keep insisting is "fake and stupid") without traversing too far into the difficult and unsteady topical ground that is headspace. I just don't like telling lies, ever, even the protective kind... and Julie isn't too happy about me refusing to acknowledge her struggles and existence in light of this whole thing anyway. But we'll get to that. First, point three.
Our third point-- which falls on an unfortunately very related note-- is that I haven't been sleeping well. I've been having nightmares, in which I either die or am involved in an apocalyptic scenario, and I've been waking up several times during the night. Not only that, but it's taking me anywhere from one to three hours to fall asleep in the first place now. I can't say for sure why this is, at least not with total conviction. I do, however, know why I haven't been able to sleep since Monday... and why my literal nightmares haven't been as bad as they could be.
I'm having those when I'm still awake.
That's what brings me here.

If you haven't been reading my bloodier entries on adflixerunt, I don't blame you. However, as stated there, around 2AM on Sunday the 17th I tried to talk to Celebi, hoping that she would have some sort of advice on what to do with our now-mangled timeline. She felt off, somehow, moreso than usual, and since I was already tired, sick, and emotionally wrecked, I called her out on it.
She melted into tar.
It literally scared the life out of me-- a fright that turned into horror when the next words out of her darkly grinning mouth were "don't you remember, bitch? When did you first see me up here?"
Now, I did mention this briefly on Scribbld, but it bears both repeating and further explanation. The "Celebi" in our system appeared in January of 2012, completely without warning. This is notable for one very, VERY big reason: on January 4th of that same year, I abandoned the "Gaia" misnomer I had been given in our beta timeline, and adopted my new one: Eros, or Cupid. This name hadn't been randomly handed to me either; on the contrary, I was led to it through a stunningly gorgeous chain of synchronicity that may not have begun on but at least climaxed on December 23rd of 2011. However, the biggest switch with respect to Sunday was that the old "Gaia" name had been fittingly given to my OLD self, so to speak... the one that shattered into splinters, and the one that, for years, identified as a Celebi herself. January 4th was the date I forever shed that childhood identity, becoming reborn into my new and true role. However, January11th was the day I declared that I had "stopped Tar hacks for good," now that I understood how my role affected my understanding of the energy it was warping. That's when stuff got weird.
On the 12th, I said this: "I'm still a Celebi, still a time-traveler, but now I glow red instead of green." I also said, "The other night I tried to switch my perception, to send my love back to myself. I couldn't do it." Sound like a warning sign yet? If not, just take a look at THIS sentence... "Fast-forward to November 2011...The game was scratched, started anew... but we had managed to rise above the old system, and so we survived, to be brought into something new and yet so familiar. The 12th introduced our oldest and yet heretofore hidden adversary, the tar. By the 18th, I had fallen into a very dark place, but I could no longer be trapped there. I knew I was lost, but I knew I could get out, although I also knew it would be incredibly difficult."
This is what happened on January 18th. Understand the title now?
So yeah. I completely missed all the warning signs the first time around, but in those early weekend hours, staring into inhumanly blue eyes, they all hit me like a bullet to the brain.
When Celebi appeared in my headspace, I didn't recognize her. To quote myself, she was "an individual I had never known nor seen before. She wasn't the Celebi I had known since my youth; she claimed she was 'from the movies.'" I didn't question it... and by the 18th, I had fallen into a very dark place... you get the picture.
I daresay I don't have to mention the fact that, when we first visited the Razor Spire, the Tar specifically turned into a Celebi form to scream at me about my self-hatred and "inner suicide," refusing to forgive me, refusing to listen to me. And now I just remembered that, last summer, I was warned by a friend about a "green threat" in my headspace... I guess that was it, too.
Geez. his is all bothering me like you wouldn't believe, though... because we had a freaking incident while we were in Utah! However I haven't re-read it since this tar thing happened, and I really should... it could have the exact answers I need. I won't waste time analyzing all of that right now, though... there are more pressing matters to discuss.
Anyway, I managed to run away from her, just barely. I then noticed that my old Celebi plush was in the bedroom, after not having been there for fear of it for weeks beforehand. I grabbed it, soberly walked down the hallway, and threw it under a table. I felt nothing. Then I went back to bed, praying for sleep. Upon waking up a few hours after this incident, though, I decided to speak to Ryou. He, too, felt weirdly off and I called him out on it, explaining how even our words felt empty and false, and I was concerned.
Then he grinned, too... and there was the tar, laughing. "I thought I had you this time!"
So yeah. Sunday was not a good day.
There is one bit of hope, though. Although I will admit it terrified me when Ryou, of all people, went tarry on me, he does have one key element to his existence that Celebi does not: his Yami. True, he wasn't anchored to headspace and so he 'dissolved out' back in 2005 or so, but seeing how Marik's Yami actually came back this year, rather dramatically, AND both of them were resurrected (at least temporarily, as it was tar-based, AND Marik's Yami was more of a splinter while Ryou's was a whole other person, so we might just be dealing with two Tar doppelgangers here) during our double 4th incident in November, this could be something to look into. Once again, I will do that tonight or tomorrow, whenever I have time. Let me continue my current train of thought first.
When I recovered enough from the shock of Sunday morning, I grabbed that Celebi plush from under the hall table and marched out to the porch with it... and promptly began flinging it at the walls. I spent about two minutes trying desperately to burn off all the shame, pain, and rage she had brought over the past year, no longer caring whether or not the plush was damaged. I thought back to when I wanted to burn it, how everyone told me not to. Now, looking for someone to stop me from slamming her anchor plush into cold stone, I found no one. Even the plush felt empty, dead, barren. I knew it was over. Whatever may have been there before, it was over. The jig was up. I looked at the lifeless thing on the floor for a moment longer, feeling nothing but absolute loathing, and instantly I knew what to do. I was going to keep her from lying to me ever again, I swore. I was going to make her anchor match her true face. So I went back into the house and got a knife, scissors, and paint.
Please understand that, by this point, I was such an emotional wreck that I had slipped far beyond any semblance of my rational self.
I grabbed the plush and cut its eyes out.
I then proceeded to paint it black, stabbing it here and there with the knife, sawing its mouth open, contemplating tearing off its wings. I spent about two hours mutilating it. Still, I felt nothing.
When I was too tired and cold to continue, I went inside, alone, and I don't remember the rest of the day.
I guess what I'm trying to say is... maybe I asked for it.

See, the reason why I even started this huge Celebi-centered paragraph in the first place was simply to give you some needed backstory, so that you would understand the next thing I am about to say.

Around 3AM on March 19th, I was hacked.
Literally.

It was so traumatic that when it was over, I curled up in a corner of the bathroom and sobbed, after trying and failing to scrub the pain away.
I don't remember how it started. I have a vague recollection of her, tar-dripping and horrible, suddenly looming over me, but that's it. What I do remember is screaming for help. Laurie eventually did show up (when she found me) and did everything in her power to try and save me, but it wasn't working. I'm almost positive that Leon and Lynne were with her, too (I know for a fact that Leon's warping ability was needed at one point).
Unfortunately, the Tar has gotten smarter.
It warped me out.
I have no idea where it and I ended up then, but we were unreachable. It felt like that horrible week after February 24th, when I couldn't feel or sense anyone upstairs: I kept trying to get the attention of anyone in headspace, begging for help, sending out frantic threads into the surrounding mindscape in hope of reaching something. No such luck. I was trapped.
...
I don't know how to refer to that thing anymore. Do I just call it "tar?" Should I use the "Tara" name or is that being too personable? Or is Celebi's name the one I should use? It looked like her... everything about it was her. It was her, who am I kidding, we all know that whole identity was faked. The whole time it was her, painted like an oilslick, mocking me, ruining me.
Julie was never so cruel. Yes, she did some horrible things to me during her time as the Tar's mistress, but now that it's attacking me like this... I don't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. My mind keeps shorting out when I try anyway.
Two times she tore the life out of me. Perhaps it was karma, divine retribution for what I did on January 15th of this year... for the 17th of last year. All I know is that it was the most awful thing I have ever experienced, to feel so completely helpless and ravaged and yet convinced that maybe I deserved it.
Still, no amount of self-loathing could chase away the sheer panic I felt when she jumped on me a third time.
I shut my eyes against the pain, and screamed for my boss.

He heard.

The next thing I knew, he was literally throwing her off me, his normally calm face tight with fury. Someone with soft white hands helped me to my feet, and in dull surprise I realized it was Unisalia, in her human guise. Then the hands gripping my shoulders were his, and I don't remember what he said, but then the space around us shattered and suddenly we were in Central.
Laurie, Leon, and Lynne all ran over to me then, terrified but relieved, asking my boss where in the world I had been, what happened, so on and so forth. I don't remember it because my brain was in shock.
Right around then is when I stumbled into the bathroom in physicality and collapsed, wrapping my arms around myself and crying soundlessly, too hollowed-out to want anything but sleep.
I went back to bed and boss took me aside upstairs, saying he was going to do his best to heal me. He and Unis then warped me to a dimly-lit, stark, but safe and familiar place. It was the waiting room from this dream, and sure enough, who came running to meet us but the suited man (he's actually known as the "Pale Man" from what I've heard) and his chandelier-girl assistant. Now, you guys probably don't know this, but remember how in that dream he allegedly had the ability to "bring drawings to life?" This is actually because of a paintbrush he owns: with it, he can literally paint things into existence. This is why boss brought me to him-- if something had been torn out of me by the Tar-Celebi, then perhaps he could help me paint it back. Anyway, Pale Man was out of breath when he reached us, and had already begun talking to Mr. Sandman and Unis about the situation when he noticed me (I had waved at the chandelier-girl then, and she had shyly waved back). The Pale Man paused, obviously recognizing me, then said "beautiful boy," in a quiet but realizing voice, effectively correcting his dialogue from the dream I met him in. He then began to apologize, but boss smiled and waved a hand, saying it wasn't really necessary-- my gender warped in dreams just as his apparently did, as our forms were not locked-in as we traveled. Boss then added that this was normal for Sandmen, after all. Pale Man paused yet again, then breathlessly asked "he's the Apprentice??" Boss nodded, but quickly added that "that wasn't the concern right now," and gave him a quick summary of what I had just endured, explaining that we needed his abilities for some emergency care. Pale Man nodded and took out his paintbrush, walking over to me, but he seemed confused, saying that he wasn't sure what needed to be done. Now I was already starting to shut down at this point, but this was a hidden blessing on a mental level as all my walls were gone. I dimly asked Pale Man if I could use the paintbrush. He glanced quickly at my boss for a moment, who nodded his approval and told him not to worry-- I could handle such a responsibility, and knew how to operate such artifacts (I didn't realize until the next day that asking for his brush could have been viewed as criminally out-of-place if I hadn't held such an "honorable position"). So he handed it to me, and immediately I painted the first thing that came to mind... a faucet and handle, tapped directly into my lower abdomen. Truthfully all I could think of was how disturbing it had been seeing Lynne pull out gobs of tar from that area back in February, after having seen Braeden do the same back in SLC. I knew that if there was anything in me that didn't belong, it needed to get out before I could put anything bright back in... and after that hellish experience, I knew for a fact that I was effectively toxic from how much she had infected me with.
I think I vaguely mentioned that I "needed something to drain this into," because I do recall someone manifesting either a vortex or a container of sorts before I turned the handle. I'll tell you what, though... I'm glad I was in such a daze, because I think if I had seen that much tar come pouring out of my stomach sober, I would have had another breakdown. As it was, though, it was a huge relief knowing it was going away. But seriously, there was a LOT. Just... this torrent of black gushed out, and I just waited until it stopped. That was it. Afterwards Pale Man was kind and wise enough to transmute the collected tar into White headspace energy (you can do that if you have it in a neutral state-- it's just energy after all, like everything else, and if it's not currently being used maliciously it's rather simple to return it to pure constructive energy) so that it didn't reinfect anyone. However I now had no idea what to do with this spigot in my stomach, and briefly wondered if Pale Man had magic paint thinner or something before the chandelier-girl walked over to me. The Pale Man said erasing things was her job, as she reached out and delicately touched the contraption. It turned a soft glowing white where she did so, like a candle flame, and then to my astonishment it began to "phase out" into nothingness, becoming transparent and glowy-white in its entirety as it did so, and steadily dissolving like ashes into the air. It was quickly gone, and I thanked both her and the Pale Man for their help.
I know there was more conversation here, but my memory is shot and I was already so dead tired by then that all I recall for sure is Mr. Sandman and Unis (who I think was her normal unicorn self at this point; I think she had a star on her forehead like Amalthea? I'll have to look again) both bringing me back downstairs, promising to watch over me during the night, and expressing their sorrow that such an event had occurred at all.

So that's that. Now for today.

I already summarized this earlier, so let's skip straight to the bit about Julie not liking my wanting to lie about the Tar. First, though, I must give you some context... I didn't drive for most of the way up. Not only was I still a bit of a mess, but I was exhausted from not sleeping well. So, Josephina decided to drive. It was pretty hilarious, but his valley-girl speech pattern prompted me to dizzily ask if Julie talked like that? Julie then spoke up from upstairs (somewhat offended) that no, she didn't, and she didn't like the assumption simply because she used to be blonde/ tan/ etc. There was a bit of arguing here, which somehow ended up with us wondering how Waldorf talked? So she got into the drivers seat, but we were all shocked when she couldn't talk. This worried me-- blue voices becoming mute is a sign of instability in that slot, either with me or them-- but she insisted it was okay via body language. She then left, explaining that it was just because she wasn't skilled at driving yet, and that lack of skill is what caused the voice break. Anyway, it was at this point that Julie insisted on driving, so I let her, but Laurie's immediate question was "why are you so pissed off?" because she had been acting quite negatively lately. To our surprise, Julie exclaimed "am I the only bloody person up here who cares about what happened on Tuesday?!"
The rest of the drive consisted of her essentially pouring her heart out (angrily!) to us, explaining how she refused to pretend that everything was okay here, especially when the "same thing she risked her life to escape was STILL hurting me in the way it had through her." Understandably this was tearing her apart. But yeah, this went on for about 15-20 minutes, until we were almost at the office, and now Laurie and Julie were fighting over driving rights, with Laurie insisting that everyone "chill the heck up" (chill out and shut up) while Julie kept saying that we just didn't understand what she was going through and how important this was. Ultimately Lynne shoved her way in and told everyone to just calm down. This made Julie even more distraught though, and Laurie also questioned her on this, asking "aren't you supposed to balance, not ignore?" Lynne was rather flustered though, and admitted that she was at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. So we all collectively shrugged our shoulders and decided we'd figure it out after the appointment. So I then had about five minutes to try and get back into the body, which was difficult as hell actually, especially with all the lingering energy from everyone else.
Anyway, the appointment came and went, and then it was time to continue with the day's errands. I stopped at my favorite natural food store (as it was right down the road, how great is that) to stock up on soap and toothpaste (as well as kale chips because I needed comfort food dude), but when I reached the checkout, I realized with shock that I had forgotten my pin number, and I only had $10 left in spending money. I apologized profusely, bought only the toothpaste and one package of kale chips (they were out of soap), and left. To my surprise, Genesis showed up, and upon catching a glimpse of my face he asked what was up. Actually, I was on the edge of an inexplicable emotional collapse, triggered by not having my debit card number (and therefore feeling utterly incompetent and helpless), but probably motivated by what I had been through over the past week. I tried to talk to him for a bit in the car, but Julie was getting REALLY mad that I kept pushing that emotional hurt under the rug, and I had to apologize to Genesis, asking him to go upstairs, as Julie decided to drive for most of the way home.
She had a place to go first, though. Context: I had $4 left in Boscovs credit from Christmas, which I obviously wasn't going to use, so Julie asked if she could. I said yes, and she made me promise to follow through on letting her buy whatever she wanted with it, covering the rest of the bill as long as she only got one thing. I agreed, knowing full well what she wanted but deciding she deserved it, and that's where I was left this morning, with my pink headvoice hellbent on going to the mall. I timidly asked why she was so avid on this point, and I will admit I was rather moved when her reply was she "wanted to feel like she belonged somewhere, even if it was just in a shared body." Owning at least one article of clothing that was hers and hers alone would do wonders towards alleviating her lingering existential dread, as it would be a tangible symbol of her existence. To anyone seeing it, and to this body wearing it, it was proof that yes, she was real.
Julie had calmed down somewhat by now, but Lynne gently asked if she could drive again for a little while, to give Julie a break. She agreed, but soon after Lynne began to front, she changed her mind, and said she'd rather give a turn to those who hadn't had one yet today. Nathaniel happened to be next in line, but not only could he barely talk, he claimed he was a little sensitive to light (it was about 9:30 AM at this point), so he politely backed out after about 20 seconds. I actually don't think Leon drove-- he still has a lot of trouble with body dysphoria, which I desperately want to help him with as I care about him dearly and that isn't easy for me to handle either-- but I do remember that Spine did. Having her front is always interesting to watch; she doesn't quite understand having muscles and skin, so her movements are rather pointed and rigid, and her speech pattern is similar. But she's adorable, so as long as she's not having trouble, we don't mind letting her out. I know Julie was getting antsy again (fearing I was going to break my promise) and kept asking to drive again, but once we hit the highway, Laurie decided "to heck with it" and took the wheel. She commented that everyone seriously needed to calm down, rhetorically adding (in a possible reference to Julie earlier) "am I the only one of us who actually looks around when they drive?" Which is true-- everyone else seems to be primarily focused on their own presence in the body, whereas Laurie and I are so comfortable sharing a space already that her focus is on her surroundings instead. So she's the only headvoice who would rather look at the scenery than talk while fronting, which I personally find incredibly endearing, but yeah. Interestingly enough, at one point she paused and then suddenly asked me, looking shocked, "is this what you get all the time?" I asked what she meant, and she clarified that there were "random thoughts and comments" springing into the body's thought processes that weren't hers. She added that they were obviously programmed, before admonishing "I hope you don't identify with that garbage?" I admitted that sometimes I did, if I wasn't paying attention, and she said that I really did need to be careful, because programs are virtually one-way-tickets to Tar City, so to speak. I promised I'd keep that in mind.
We reached the mall a few minutes later, but hilariously enough it didn't open for another 12 minutes or so. Julie was driving again of course-- she was the one going shopping, no one else-- but she actually wasn't bothered by this unexpected wait. Instead, she kicked the seat back in the car, popped in my CD of The Dear Hunter's Color Spectrum album, and skipped straight to the White tracks. And for the next 12 minutes, that is all that she did... she just closed her eyes and listened to it, smiling. Honestly I couldn't help but smile too, watching her. It was a moment I had never expected to see... there she was, Julie, inhabiting the body that everyone downstairs assumed was mine, and owning it. Hell, she drives it better than I do! But that's kind of the point. Julie, a headvoice that at one time had no hope for a normal, happy life, was having just that. In that moment, to me, it was as if she had never been anything but who she was right then... a normal girl in a normal body.
I'll tell you what, I'm really glad I had that moment, because then she walked into the mall, and headed straight for the lingerie section.
It was adorably hilarious. She wanted to look at and/or try on everything, while I was pacing back and forth upstairs, still stupidly feeling responsible for the body's "persona" and feeling rather guilty that Julie's energy did not match it. She didn't care, though-- as long as there are no mirrors around Julie typically doesn't-- and kept browsing through lady things like it was perfectly natural. And yes, it was for her, but I've never been in a lingerie section in my life, so you get the picture. To make a long story short, she picked out three brassieres that wouldn't overshoot our budget and practically danced over to the fitting room (all three were pink and/or black, obviously). Imagine her excitement when one fit perfectly-- and to top it all off, it was a hot pink one with flowery lace and glitter. I couldn't say no if I wanted to, it was too freaking perfect. So I threw my hands up in the air, laughed, and sent her over to a cashier. The transaction went down without a hitch (no questions were asked at the discrepancy between Julie's girly-pink bra purchase and the body's uber-butch appearance, thank God), but I swear to you, we had barely left the parking garage when she suddenly exclaimed: "why didn't I buy matching panties??"
The uproar that resulted from THAT was the funniest thing I have experienced in a LONG time. First she tried to go back to Boscovs, but I told her it would have been way too embarrassing as we had just left. So she asked to stop at the local K-Mart as they did sell some there (she'd eyed them before), and I acquiesced. Now I admittedly do not remember the drive from that point until we reached the place, but upon checking out the wares and ultimately leaving (no money left in the wallet for those prices), Laurie decided she had had it. As I settled back into the body (I desperately needed to relax) and watched amusedly, Laurie began wondering aloud why in the world we had just spent the past hour talking about underwear, of all things, especially considering the strangeness of our system. It struck her as bizarrely incongruous, but Julie was unfazed, and said that she wanted some, so she got some, end of story. Since everyone was now in Central she was chilling out with Lynne, and at that point Laurie incredulously asked Julie, "but you're the only one who even worries about that, right?" nonverbally referring to Lynne not having literal biology either (Julie does). Cue the best moment of this entire day, as despite this, Lynne simply smiled and pulled up her dress to reveal the fanciest Burlesque undergarments imaginable. Laurie's expression was priceless, as was Julie's squeal of delight, but THEN Josephina wandered over and answered Laurie's desperate "not you too??" with "I only wear lolita undergarments." Julie snarkily asked if that meant he wore bloomers, to which he blushed profusely and told her that he couldn't wear those with scene pants, was she insane? Lynne giggled and asked Laurie why she was so flustered about this, and Julie joined in with a grinning "yeah, don't you wear any?" Laurie exasperatedly replied "I wear pants!! I don't have anything to wear underwear for!" She asked Lynne the same thing, but she simply shrugged and said she liked wearing it anyway. Cue my favorite moment, as Laurie sighed loudly, threw her hands in the air and exhaustedly declared: "women!" I couldn't help but laugh as I corrected her, simply saying "feminine people" (Because Jo identifies as a guy but he's still over there talking about panties, so). Laurie nodded sagely and answered, "you're right, and thank you for correcting me, because my brain isn't working very well right now." Unfortunately for her, this only got worse as then the rest of Central wandered in. Wally was trying to decide what kind she would wear, which was funny enough because she doesn't wear clothing at all, but then someone asked Nat and Leon what they wore and I swear Leon turned bright red. Right about then Laurie said "that's it, I give up, I'm outta here," and left the room, adding that if any individuals wanted to do "masculine stuff" then they were welcome to join her. She then asked me if I had any music on hand that she could jam out to, as she really needed to clear her head (she looked seriously exhausted, which was amusing in context), so I said I'd look. Thankfully I had brought Razia (my iPod who is back from the dead, whoa) and put him on shuffle, which worked well enough. So Laurie, Leon, and Nat were rocking out for a while, and Chaos and Genesis got wind of this rather quickly so they joined in. The grand finale came right as we were almost home, though-- the Oliver remix of Hot Mess came up (a classic for us up here), and immediately Laurie went "dude, yes, keep this on!!" and to my surprise, brought everyone back to Central. She motioned for Waldorf to do the vocoder voice (she enthusiastically agreed), while she and Chaos waited eagerly for the 1:00 mark... and with that perfectly summed-up reaction to the day's events, stuff got awesome.
The next four minutes were a straight-up headspace dance party. It was brilliant.
What can I say, Laurie's the best at that sort of thing!

On a similarly positive note, I discovered this song today and I CANNOT STOP LISTENING TO IT.


Geez but it is late. If you couldn't tell, this entry took quite a long time to write, so I'll close up with a few notes for the next one (which needs to happen soon).
In light of the system losing it's Chartreuse slot holder what with Celebi being corrupted, we're reviewing everyone's colors again. Vermilion is still empty, and now Spine is throwing a monkey wrench in since, if she holds Brown and isn't an outspacer (a fact I actually am NOT sure of??), then it would mean Brown is a core color, and we would have to re-graph the system layout. In any case it's complicated... especially since the biggest concern is actually my color.
Everyone seems to agree that I belong in the White slot, but when I asked boss about whether or not I should move there immediately, he shook his head... I asked him why.
He said that I couldn't ascend to that slot until I solved the troubles that surrounded my current one.
Makes perfect sense to me.

I think that's a perfect observation to close this on, though, because if I kept talking about all the color stuff I've been figuring out lately I'd be on here for another three hours.
Have a good night, everyone. I promise I'll be careful.





You're a hot mess
You act like you got nothing to lose
But I've already lost my temper

I put my loving on the line for you, lady
But my spirits were low
I would have committed a crime for you, baby
Yeah, it got out of control

I know my temper's been kinda crazy
I need somebody
What?
I need someone
Your love is real but I just feel suffocated
I feel so lonely
What?
I feel so numb

I thought we had this conversation already
Do you really want to go through this all over again?

 



 

 

022213

Feb. 22nd, 2013 09:14 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

 

Major crash today, again. Trying to stay afloat but I feel too dead to do anything but sleep.

Why do I keep updating on days like this, you ask. Why do I keep bringing unnecessary attention to my ridiculous state of mind? Why do I keep complaining and griping? Maybe I'm an attention whore, maybe I don't know when to shut up, maybe I'm exaggerating everything, maybe I'm making it all up. I've considered it all before.

Personally, I think it's simply that I still don't know how to let go.
It's difficult though... I have problems with understanding the permanence of things, I think? It's ironic, as I frequently write about the same events here, day after day, but understand that is a symptom of the problem. Every time those problematic events occur, it's as if they were happening for the first time. The past is constantly being rewritten in my mind, fragmented pieces of memories I'm not even sure happened, shoved together into some semblance of personal history based on what I know to exist at that moment. You can see why this causes difficulties.
And yet, the letting go is an issue. I'm not even going to try to justify that, as it's stupid and likely just a result of my laziness. If I wanted to heal from this, I would just acknowledge that it hurt and then go on as if it had never happened, like I did that one night in Utah. Hours upon hours of me talking like a selfish brat, honestly believing that everything had somehow been fixed, and then quickly tripping over the same stupid hole in the road only days later. No wonder they couldn't stand me. To think, how my utter incompetence at dealing with life cost me the only friends I've ever had.
That's idiotic too, how I keep bringing that situation up. I messed up, badly. I know this. I managed to convince two people that they had never really known me, that their idealized images of me as some sort of inspirational paragon were nothing but fantasies. I managed to convince them both that they had never loved me at all. And now I'm too stupid to just turn around and walk away. You screwed up big time, kid, own up to it! Stop obsessing over "what could have been" and get on with it. LET GO OF IT.

...I'm not feeling anything right now either. I haven't felt anything really genuine in a few months. I've been acutely aware of my "programming" and how many of my responses and reactions are automated. I catch myself in the act and stop suddenly, stunned that I had done so much literally unconsciously, and terrified at the notion that THAT is what people used to love about me-- the act, the program, the lie. I don't know.
I miss my "friends" solely because I wish I had people to talk to when I get like this. Then again, they repeatedly expressed how exhausting it was to listen to me, how I didn't care about their schedules, how they didn't have time to hear me babble on for hours. I understand, I really do, but... I guess I just suck at friendship too.
I think Laurie spoiled me. Having someone upstairs who won't put up with your garbage BUT will still dedicate every bloody second of their time to you is really... not something you find downstairs, unfortunately. Also keep in mind that I may not talk to or even see her for days on end, entirely without explanation, and when I come back I act as if nothing had happened. She's often furious at how long I was gone, but it boils over quickly enough. I need LOTS of space like that. Unfortunately, so far the people who are willing to give me huge amounts of their time are not willing to let me 'disappear' for equally huge amounts of time, typically unannounced. And I understand that too, perfectly. I'm not an easy person to deal with.

I can't seem to let it go, though. It's eating away at me and it has been for months. The problem is, she effectively said she never wanted to speak to me again. He hasn't really spoken to me much in years. I never knew either of them as individuals in the first place. The only thing I miss is having people to vent at. That's not a friendship! And yet I'm tormented with the constant thought of trying to contact either of them again, knowing full well that I'd only be rejected, but maybe that closure would help... why the hell do I need closure though, I'm stronger than that. I ask too much of everyone. This needs to stop.

Part of me really wants to make new friends, and part of me doesn't want to be tied down to "maintaining a relationship." A fatal Catch-22. Then again, I'm assuming all relationships follow a specific pattern, one that demands impossible amounts of extroversion and silliness from me. I'm sorry, I honestly cannot be a social butterfly or source of entertainment, as it is psychologically exhausting. But I get frustrated with people who just sit around and don't talk, too. If you're going to do that, please don't expect me to sit there unless you have ASKED me to specifically.
Maybe I'm too demanding? Am I? All I want is someone to have deep discussions with, really, someone who can give me space or, better yet, someone who doesn't make me want to run away from them after ten minutes.
I was trying to talk to my mother in the car yesterday, about possible topics for my Illustrative essay, as I couldn't understand what the format was. After about ten minutes she got acutely frustrated and asked me two things: 1. why can't I understand anything, and 2. why am I so contradictory. One, sometimes it is very difficult for me to understand instructions and concepts, and so I end up asking tons of questions, desperately trying to grasp the idea, and annoying the hell out of whoever is answering my questions. This causes Point Two, my "contradictory" nature, in which I typically respond to someone's suggestion or statement with "yes, but here's the opposing viewpoint." Why? Probably because I'm used to talking to Laurie. We both say our points, and if we don't understand something, need something clarified, or feel a statement is incorrect, we voice it. We tear apart each others dialogue if need be. "Here's what I think." "Makes sense, but have you considered this?" "Yes, and it doesn't work for this reason." "Are you absolutely sure?" "As far as I know; why, do you have a better idea?" "Yes, let me tell you what to do." On and on and on it goes. When people can't stand my constant questioning of the answers I've been given, the conversation goes nowhere. I will question for hours until I feel I have tested each response well enough to assess its validity, and then when I find the ones that have good grounding and relevance, I will graciously put them to use. Most people can't do this, or at least not the people I talk to. They seem to be offended when I reject a point, or are frustrated by persisting questions despite their "already having answered." I want our viewpoints to merge, for both of us to see both sides, and work together to find a good answer, no matter how many questions we BOTH ask. I can't do back-and-forth conversations in that sense. I need to dive in with someone.
I have no idea why I felt the need to write any of that.

I can't shake the awful fear that I am corrupt, either. My brother, who went through the exact same self-abuse/ psych ward/ meds/ etc. nonsense as I did years ago, to an even WORSE extent, has effectively graduated college with high honors, has a large circle of friends, is working on his dream career, and is basically completely happy with his life right now. I'm just as happy for him! Honestly, I am so thankful that he is where he is right now.
However, the fact that I've been working at this for years and seem to be sinking deeper into quicksand worries me. He gets straight As, I often can't pass my classes at all. He has loyal friends, I can't mesh with people well enough to keep even one. He's pursuing his dreams, I don't know if I have any dreams left to speak of. And I'M the one who was in therapy for a year! Is there something inherently wrong with me? Am I so blackhearted that I can't overcome these shadows and grow? What is happening here? I try to smile and do my best but many times I'm simply acting, and I'm no good at that. I can't lie, and it always falls through. Still, I try. I honestly try. The problem is that I feel so empty and I'm tired of it all and this has been going on for too long.

You know how I was considering getting a tattoo about four years ago? I've made my decision, and I AM getting one. Probably two, possibly three. I've realized that my moronic "constancy" problem can be assuaged by constant reminders, so getting an indelible one should help immensely. Of course I need money before I can do that, but my mind has been made.


I don't want to type about negative things anymore.
Let's list some positive things that happened today...

- My English teacher graciously only cut ONE letter grade off my two-weeks-late report because she can see I'm having a rough time
- I finished reading "Get Me Out Of Here" so now I can start my next book
- Felt genuinely happy for a little while this evening
- Almost done with the groundwork for this typecode categorization (it is driving me insane)
- I didn't feel like throwing up from anything today, thank God
- Mom was home today, she actually paid attention when I showed her some of my new work which was great
- Bro had his internship finalized!! Finally!
- majesticcasual uploaded THIS and it is so nice to my ears (it is silvery and tastes like carbonated macaroons btw)


When I drown myself in music, I can't stop smiling. But I'm spending hours every day doing so now.
Writing and art hurt my brain right now. They're draining and all the mental work is exhausting, but I think I can find a few loopholes to make it easier. I hope so... I need to open commissions soon, whether I like it or not (even if I have to force every pencil stroke), because I need money for food.
That's ironic too, as I gained way too much weight since I left Utah, and I can't tell if it's psychological or not. I never got the weird hunger symptoms in Utah that I do here, and I ate far less out there. I wonder if it's the atmosphere, I dunno. Maybe it's just the lack of funds and access to organic food, both of which I had in SLC. See, there's me griping about "what once was" again. I thought we weren't going to dig that up again?


I'm just going to sign off for the night. Sorry about all this nonsense, as usual.



“The reason you suffer from your depression and your anxieties is that you identify with them. You say, “I’m depressed”. But that is false. You are not depressed. If you want to be accurate, you might say, “I am experiencing a depression right now”. But you can hardly say, “I am depressed”. You are not your depression. That is but a strange kind of tuck of the mind, a strange kind of illusion. You have deluded yourself into thinking - though you are not aware of it - that you ARE your depression, that you ARE your anxiety, that you ARE your joy or the thrills that you have. “I am delighted!” You certainly are not delighted. Delight may be IN you right now, but wait around, it will change. It won’t last: it never lasts; it keeps changing; it’s always changing. Clouds come and go: some of them are black and some white, some of them are large, others small. If we want to follow the analogy, you would be the sky, observing the clouds. You are a passive, detached observer. That’s shocking, particularly to someone in the Western culture. You’re not interfering. Don’t interfere. Don’t ”fix” anything. Watch! Observe! The trouble with people is that they’re busy fixing things they don’t even understand. We’re always fixing things, aren’t we? It never strikes us that things don’t need to be fixed. They really don’t. This is a great illumination. They need to be understood. If you understood them, they’d change.”

 

 

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

 

@ 10:54 pm

 

 

Just another quick update-- believe it or not-- to apologize for that mess of an entry and let you all know that I am already feeling huge relief from all that junk.

I know what I have to do. Problem is, things have CHANGED. Big time. And every once in a while, I slip back into my old coping methods and ways of solving problems... which don't work anymore!
I'm learning through. And it's becoming easier and easier to slip right back into happiness.

My biggest problem, at the moment, is this: I don't know what brings me joy anymore. I know I have to follow that path right now, and do the things that illuminate me, but I don't remember what does.
Maybe I've just been worrying and in pain for too long. I'll try a few things, slowly at first, and I'm sure I'll eventually hit something. Even if all my old interests no longer suit me, I'm confident that there's something new to be discovered that's more suitable to my life now.

I'll be okay. Even if I can't feel any emotions right now (there's just that underlying empty peace, which is perfect, but I can't "do anything" with it because there's no motivation to do anything BUT be peaceful and empty), I know that truth lies below the surface nevertheless.

This too shall pass... hey, maybe that'll be one of my tattoos, haha. It's a good idea!

 



 

021113

Feb. 11th, 2013 07:35 pm
prismaticbleed: (shatter)

 

 


oh god i do not feel good.

i think my ignored medical conditions have caught up with me

i feel like vomiting, i cant think straight, i'm dizzy, i'm weak.
i'm burning up on the inside and my stomach is full of pain.
no fever though, i look fine, not even shaking today.

god if youre going to take me home then please do so soon.

last nights crushing headache was frightening enough
the heart palpitations when i try to sleep are frightening enough
the constant lightheadedness and fatigue is frightening enough

please, if i'm going to die then please let it happen soon.


saw a new therapist today for 50 minutes, guess what happened.
apparently i'm too poor to get treatment haha
i felt awful as he looked close to tears at the end?? it was weird
at least i did have the guts to be honest with him about the abuse.
so thats a big step forwards for me.
anyway he recognized that my financial and home situations are not cool man
and he gave me a few other options that might help in the meantime
but he said i definitely need once-a-week treatment
i just don't know how we'd afford it.

god please let this work out somehow,
i don't know how much longer i can keep counting the days.

i still feel so sick it's ridiculous
i want to sleep so badly but i have homework to finish
i dont want to fail another semester because of my stupid problems

what do i do.

god what do i do?

 



 

prismaticbleed: (spinel-remorse)

 

W...whoa. Okay. Don't know how to react to this, but... huh.
Forgive the paltry medium this occurred in, but... Mel just unfriended me on FB?
That's... big, for them. FB has been the ONLY way I could communicate with them since 2010. And now they've pulled the plug on me. Not sure why, but... well, it's not new. My sister did the same. I don't hold it against her, of course-- still love her like crazy-- but for months afterward, I couldn't stop asking myself, "what did I do wrong?" Of course, there was no guarantee whether or not I had played such a personal role in that decision, but it was sudden and severe, so I assumed the worst. On the other hand, I know for a fact that I am entirely responsible for this action of Mel's.
So it came as a rather jarring shock to see that today. Why today, of all days, you ask?
Mainly because I've been working nonstop on my inner life since I got back to PA. Mainly because I've finally realized that the weird lingering antagonism that stuck to the Utah situation was entirely projected... when I looked at it, I realized that there was no cause... at least, none outside.
I couldn't forgive myself for what Mel said I did to them, in that note. And that self-loathing was starting to externalize, because I couldn't make sense of why they felt that way, and communicating with them was just confusing them more. I felt bad that we couldn't seem to make any progress, but... well, I told them that if we honestly could not solve this problem, then I was happy having at least said my piece in trying to atone for the unknown wrongdoings, and if they wanted to completely let go of me after that, then so be it. Guess they took me up on that offer, which I don't mind, as I gave Q the same offer years ago and he accepted that too, so. Maybe it's just time we parted ways permanently... sad, as here's the first two people to try and be close friends to me, and it didn't quite work. But life's like that, sometimes.

To get back on topic... I do want to let go of this, but I think I need to dig deeper inside first. I need to use this to learn my lessons better, what with my shadow influences beating the stuffing out of me lately (yesterday was nuts in an amazing way, hilariously enough... but we'll get to that). See, I've spent the past two weeks reviewing all of Q and Mel's old journals, as well as my own. Why? Because, as soon as that pained message arrived in my inbox, I realized with a sickening jolt that this is exactly what happened in 2010. For whatever reason, all four times I interacted with those two individuals ended in tears, so to speak. All of those encounters began with optimism, and quickly sputtered into confusion and pain. I am determined to figure out why, as well as I can-- if I was the cause, then I want to heal whatever it is in me that caused that, even if I can no longer do so for them (I have been trying but we've apparently got emotional language barriers). I will admit I was explicitly damaging in the past, when Jezebel still ran the business and my splinters hadn't splintered off yet. I was a mess, right up until the summer of 2011. But this year... I really did try this year, and yet the outcome was exactly the same! It was disorienting, to realize that the words I was reading reflected what I had just left, and yet the timestamps were from two years ago. But like I said, I already know that a great deal of it was due to self-blame, projecting my own shortcomings onto others, being too afraid to take a chance with them because of past failures.
Plus I just came across this quote... "You don't want to be here: I can sense that. Is it because you don't feel safe in your own body, that you don't want to be anywhere?" I can't help but wonder if that really was the biggest reason, even now. It's the main reason why I couldn't seem to function there, why I couldn't truly 'match' the me I present online, the real me... having a voice and face and form that simply doesn't fit me is pretty crippling when it comes to honest communication. Q seemed far more acknowledging of it than Mel, though, at least actively. Several times he referred to me with correct pronouns and the like, which was amazing, and really made me feel respected instead of misunderstood as usual. I don't think Mel gave it much thought. Now I'm not saying anything bad about them, I'm just wondering. That may have been a huge piece of why I didn't feel like I could safely communicate with them, a fact I didn't dare give voice to. Maybe seeing me that way would have made me a threat to them, who knows. Either way it's sad to look back and wonder, "was it really something that simple?"
"I had just traveled over 2000 miles away from the place where I was born and raised, for the sole reason of seeing the two people who supposedly cared for me most in this world. Upon meeting them and spending the next week with them, I didn't notice the less positive switch. See, I no longer had to worry about the stressful turmoil of my distant 'home.' That lever had been switched off, and another had been switched on. I was now torn between being myself and being a person who could sync with Mel and Q without causing severe problems. That brought up the whole 'keeping them amused' problem (that's in my IJ) and the secondary issue of tweaking my personality to keep from possibly offending or confusing anyone too much... but I didn't realize it. I kept myself from realizing it. It was sick... I don't want to leave Utah because the two people that brought me here want me to stay, but I also don't want to stay because of what I'm causing them... and what they're causing me. God, you've really got me in a bizarre situation now, don't you?..."
But I suppose it's not something I should spend time on anymore. All I can do now is postulate in hindsight. All I should be focused on is pinpointing problematic areas in my own psyche, not worrying about either of them. I can't solve their problems, and now I can't even try, even if I wanted to. I've almost completely let go of that now, which is good. It doesn't hurt anymore, and I no longer feel any ties. The only thing holding me back now is this lingering feeling of responsibility. You should have known better. You should have helped them more. But "should" is a useless word. What's done is done, and I did what I could under the circumstances, with the knowledge I had at the time. Right now, I am doing the same.
What's bothering me the most is that my SLC visit echoed 2010. I am NOT the person I was back then, at all, in any way. Yet did I feel I had to be, this year, even unconsciously? I don't quite know. If I really was wearing a mask that often, then the answer is yes. I'm going to pick my brain until I figure that out, as it's important. A lapse in progress, however buried, is still something to bring to the light and examine. I don't want that happening again, with anyone, under any circumstances. And still, I think the dysphoria was the killer! Situations in my mind run perfectly. No mistakes, no dishonesty, no triggers or hacks. But when I actually find myself in those situations... uh-oh, this isn't my spirit body, is it? Every time, even now. And it throws me off badly, and I forget who I am, and then suddenly I'm not me. If that truly is the answer to this mess, then no wonder Mel felt I had abused them. I had been abusing myself just as horribly. Hm. To think, I had sworn that had stopped. Maybe I was only watching for the most obvious signs, though, and missed these: the ones I buried and justified, in lieu of knives and scars. This is good, the fact that I'm hopefully getting it now! See, we're taking steps forward, as we always do.
Still, the fact that this happened again bothers me too:
"I saw a photo of you earlier today, and I didn't recognize you at all. I had to think, 'what were they like?' ...I don't know either of you. I thought about it, and I cried, because who are you, really? I know your names and that's all...I loved what you did, not who you were, and it was terrible... I didn't realize that because I wasn't like that... I wish I knew both of you better so I could fix this."
That is explicitly a problem with ME. Maybe I'm not someone they think they can trust with who they are. Maybe I'm just not able to see them correctly?
How do you get to know people, downstairs? I'm so used to these weird fluid relationships... where people have a core purpose that they live for, and if you know that purpose, you can know them... that's how I work, I suppose. My mom told me the other night: most people aren't like me. They have personas they present to the world (something I know I've done in the past, with my job and school, but have since been working maniacally to abandon), they have entire ways of acting that don't sync with their deepest natures. As for me, I strive to make every response of mine match who I am inside. As I mentioned before, this can be very difficult with the dysphoria, but it is still a constant effort. Did they do that? Or were they acting around me too? I honestly could not tell... again, like back in 2010, I saw their behaviors switch so drastically depending on who they were around, or what they were doing... it baffled me! Is that normal? How do you reconcile that many different presentations into one individual? For me it always depends on who's driving... scary stuff, but thankfully comprehensible to me. But my psychologist told me that our society 'requires' masks to function, and if I didn't start wearing one, it would tear me apart... and my mother told me that most people aren't as naively honest as I was, and that if I didn't learn to lie, people would tear me apart... and then Mel still said they didn't recognize me, in SLC.
" I guess it confused me because you seem so bright online and you were so dark when you were here, really destructive and that really surprised us."
To be blunt, that sentence is still driving me nuts. Destructive? Really? When was I destructive? I honestly cannot think of a single incident... it's more unsettling than anything. Are we seeing things so differently? Are our ways of perceiving reality that irreconcilable?
This is why I can't seem to entirely let go of the situation yet. I don't understand the last messages Mel sent me. And Q didn't say a word to me at all, which is understandable with his schedule... but to be entirely honest, I don't feel he's said much to me since he 'left' online in early 2009. It's strange, but I have no recollection of him beyond old dA notes and chatlogs. None. But that's the Q I knew. I don't know, maybe he was a different person online too. Whether more genuine or more incomplete I can't say. I know I was the latter; I acted almost entirely back then, I'm sad to say. I don't recognize any of my old communications from my teenage years: sure, there may have been some fragment of the truth buried underneath the paragraphs of empty text, but for the most part, they weren't me at all. Is that the 'me' he remembers, too? And Mel... I knew them according to FB notes and poetry, which never felt substantial enough to me. I got tons of their past, and tons of their future goals, but none of their present. That's what it felt like at least. As for me, they knew me through my journals. That was all. Problem is, 90% of my online journals isn't me. It's my struggle, up until I remembered myself last year. I can't help but ask: when Mel says I was bright online, what 'me' are they referring to? I want to know. Because when we met in person... suddenly I became dark? What does that even mean? I did the housework I was aware of, I was there for them when they'd break down, I stayed with them when we were all home together... but so often, we didn't see each other. They'd be working or at school, and I'd never see them. That's why I didn't want to get a job-- if we were all working, and never saw each other for a substantial amount of time, then why in the world had I moved? The only reason I said 'yes' was because I was under the impression we'd be spending all our time together. I suppose that's unrealistic, but it's honestly what I expected. So when things changed after the first week of free time, I didn't take it well. I couldn't make sense of why I was there anymore. I did try. It was just frustrating, now that I felt I had no ground beneath my feet.
But when was I so dark? That is the question I want answered, more than anything.
I won't say that hurts, only that it's deeply disconcerting, because I honestly cannot think of where that came from. I wish I did. Is it too late now, I wonder?
"This has caused a lot of pain and I don't think I can handle going through this anymore if you can't work through it."
I wonder if they realized that up until I moved in with them, I worked through all of my problems alone. With the exception of the gang upstairs, all of those hellish trials I suffered in my past were solved with God's help alone. Why? because they were my problems. No one else had to worry about them.
But in Utah, suddenly you were part of the picture. And I became lost. How in the world do I solve this problem if someone else needs to be factored into the decision-making process? That was my constant question. Perhaps that is why I seemed so false. Every action I took needed to take you into account as well. I've never had to do that before.
I could have solved this already if you weren't holding half the answers. That's not an accusation, it's a simple fact, and I say it with sincerity. I know it caused a lot of pain, although I'm unclear as to why exactly, but guess what? I can't work through this without you, because you were part of it. That's what it boils down to.
So to be entirely honest, it does hurt, at least that bit. They let go of me because "I couldn't work through this," not knowing or comprehending that she held half the puzzle pieces. But we saw different colors, and together we seemed to have different ideas of how it would look in the end. A lose/lose situation, perhaps. Ironically, because I've learned a lot from this... just wish I could understand your perspective.
I guess that's the tragic inevitability of being multiple since childhood. I'm not used to dealing with "real people," especially not in close quarters, especially not for so long a time, especially not as 'friends.' I've never had a friend downstairs before. So I apologize if I wasn't a good one, but I was trying my best according to what I knew. I guess it didn't quite work. I'm probably used to living with people like my grandmother, my mother, my superego, my id. I'm used to people who push and shout and never take no for an answer. I'm used to angry people, to fire-spitting people. I know you're not capable of that, as I did ask you. But that's what I needed in that context. Maybe that's why you felt I was pushing you away, and shutting you off... I wasn't, I was simply doing what I knew I had to do in my other relationships, to continue the conversation. Push away, and they'll push back harder. Shut off, and they'll shut you right back on. Don't call us, we'll call you. I'm used to saying things for the sole reason of inciting an explanatory reaction. I'm used to picking people's brains and having them do the same to me, even if neither of us asks a single question. I think you functioned the exact opposite way, and I was unable to understand that: if you had a whole different way of interacting, how would one go about learning how to function in response? Pushing your buttons and judging your reactions wouldn't work, you'd shut down. I didn't want to hurt you. And watching you with others, you were a different person. I really didn't know how to approach you, as I wasn't sure who I was approaching half the time. But I had no idea how to explain what I was doing, because I assumed that was how other people worked too. I had no frame of reference that you fit in.
Did I ever tell you how much it frightened me that you, Q, and Braeden all acted like ONLY you knew the "real me," and I didn't? You were always saying these enigmatic things like "your Spark is out of sync" without defining what you meant by that sentence at all. Always saying I didn't know who I was, I didn't understand my actions, et cetera. I constantly felt like I was part of this huge game, with all of you, which was deeply disturbing because I cared about you and yet those same words always came in response. Maybe that's the deepest fear here, with me writing this entry. Part of me has successfully been convinced by your words, that you hold the answers and I don't. You always spoke to me like you knew these huge secrets about me, but you were forbidden from telling me them. You'd only let me know that they were missing from my own consciousness, and that I was lost without them. How in the world was I supposed to react to that? It was a struggle living with you because I kept "guessing" at it. Is this action closer to what you see as my truth? Is this word closer? How about this one? Or this one? Maybe that's why I felt dark... maybe I believed I was, if only you knew my true brightness, and I had turned it into a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don't remember. Still, geez, I'm a headvoice, of course physicality can't entirely translate me. Of course you're going to see me through a different lens. But that doesn't invalidate my knowledge of myself... right? Better question: how often was I even driving, with the obvious exception of those few channeling sessions? I seriously don't remember... I have almost no recollection of my time in SLC, even now. I still struggle to remember both of your faces, your voices, everything. Why did that happen again too? Go figure...
"Do you feel at all, love? Or has your environment left you so starved, that you can’t help but deplete those who so thoroughly love you, and refuse to give back even an ounce of what you’ve been given?"
Is that what I was doing? Is that a truth? How can I tell? I don't want it to be true. I don't want to do that to people. I'm a giver, not a taker, but you said I hollowed you out... is that what fire does? Am I so enamored with death and rebirth that I keep catching things in conflagrations, forgetting that other people don't need to have scars in order to heal? Why is this all EXACTLY what happened two years ago? What lesson did I fail to grasp the first time?
I thought I said I was going to stop picking things apart, stop trying to find every answer in the book, stop trying to win everything... but geez, I'm also supposed to take a closer look or I'm not going to see what I need. Is this even where I need to be looking? I'm getting off topic again.
Maybe I am just that disconnected from reality. But I assumed you'd help me learn to live in harmony with yours, if you invited me to stay with you, if you spent months telling me how much you wanted to share your life with me. Maybe you did, and I never realized you were teaching. Maybe we really do speak two different languages. Maybe I really am as blind as you said I was... I'm sorry. Forgive me, please?
Why am I writing all this? Mel's not going to read this. I guess I just need to get it off my chest. Better than bottling it up after all.
Still, all I can do now is continue to better myself, whether or not I will ever see either of them again. At this point in my life that honestly does not matter. I've had to let go of many, many things lately... big and small, easy and difficult. If this is something I can no longer have in my life, then so be it. I'm just riding the waves...

In much happier news--- whoa whoa WHOA look who's online, dear God I was terrified that maybe she was dead, this is amazing. THANK YOU.
And the other one, my biggest inspiration, she's just become this incredible light... complete change of presentation and not an iota has faded, it's only become more luminous!
Okay that just made my year. But yes, that's actually what I was trying to segue into! After almost four years (dude that's a LONG time!) I am still trying to be an elusive guardian angel to those two. I love them so damn much it just illuminates me, to see them doing well. They've inspired me so much, they've had indelible impacts on my life just by existing. Geez one day I want to send them both huge bouquets of roses or something, completely anonymously. I just want to give some ridiculously sincere outpouring of gratitude straight to them, in a format other than words-- which I DID do, back in 2010. I still consider that the best and brightest chance I've ever taken... I truly hope those words made them smile, if only a little, for their own sake.
All I want in this is for them both to have lives full of joy and dreams and love, brighter than they could ever have imagined. They deserve it, they really do.
Mel and Q do too. They've worked so hard, and I know the trouble and suffering they've been through. Heck, they deserve that in recompense for putting up with me alone, haha!

I'm trying VERY hard not to label anything as 'good' or 'bad' right now, though. Yesterday was a big push in that direction... boy oh boy, my brain's still having trouble with all that. But now I've got a Paladin helping me too, aha! And his role here might be the most important, after all, in light of what's going on... FFFF and I JUST realized the name of the song I'm listening to, synchronicity abounds!! Okay universe, high-five, that was a nice one.
But... right before I heard that, I tried something. I held my hands out in front of me, and focused just enough... and I can see it, somehow, in my hands. That glowing symbol he gave me, with those words. "Don't ever forget what you told me." I promise you kid, I won't.
Shadows are the well of creation, after all. The night is the time when dreams are born. You've always been a star in the night sky for me... both of you, actually.
Let me be your phoenix, once again. If this darkness wants to take my life, so be it. We've got a funny relationship with death up here, to say the least.
...Oh. That reminds me. Synchronicity.
On Tuesday night, I logged into Tumblr for a minute, and this post lineup happened on my dashboard.
That's what inspired yesterday. It just couldn't be ignored.
And you, you crazy pretty boy... I promise, you won't ever be forgotten.

I did forget one thing yesterday, though: food! Seriously, I got carried away with fasting again and then this morning I woke up tired, numb, and shaky, with Spine yelling at me "I still need food every once in a while!" Oh yeah, haha. But having a full day to recover from how sick I've been lately was a GODSEND. All the pains and weird aches went away, aw yiss. So today I've had an avocado, some hemp seeds, and a salad; we're doing great so far! Oh yes, and I did also have a tiny bit of dark chocolate that I bought for Julie. I purposely got a brand that had raspberries and rose hips in it, so it was kind of pink, haha. But we let Julie try it first the other day, because she's never had chocolate without it being tied to a hack... she just had this grin on her face, it was awesome. (The only problem is that even a bite of chocolate hurts like hell, and Spine despises it... but we all agreed that it was a sacrifice for a very good reason!)
My hands are still tingly and my eyes are still twitching from not having eaten, but it'll get better soon enough. My mother's bringing up some garden vegetables for me tonight (thanks mum!) so that should help... I'm just very concerned because my stomach feels unsettled after I eat anything now, whether it's 'safe' or not. Maybe that's a psychosomatic symptom, who knows. At this point I think I should just write it off as that and continue being careful about what I put Spine through regardless. We'll be okay.
I need to go food shopping tomorrow whether I like it or not, and also leave off some more job applications... I keep craving protein like a mofo and the only source we have at home is peanut butter. Guess what makes me terribly sick? So that's why I've been nauseated lately, no doubt (plus the only safe carb around is oats (as we're out of squash), which is also very unsafe for me. I'd love to cut out starchy carbs completely again but without them I frequently don't get enough calories in a day). I'm just extremely worried about my reactions to it-- my face turns bright red, I start burning up and my heart rate spikes. That's not cool. So I've gotta find an alternative so I don't end up giving up eating altogether again; it's the lesser of two evils here but recovering from a major sugar drop is hellish too!

I've moved my computer into the corner of the living room, so I'm stuck on a tiny desk and an unfomfortable chair, but it's worth it because now I get to sit next to the angel food cake tree. I need to take pictures of it, it's the cutest thing. I think my mum wants to put pastel beads on it as garlands? Geez we're just going straight-up fairy kei this Christmas, haha!

"If you keep your eyes so fixed on heaven that you never look at the earth, you will stumble into hell." Austin O'Malley. Just read that quote in Black Jack... it felt very relevant, so there it is.
Ironically I think that springs from my old mindset-- the idea that heaven and earth and hell are all separate things. The old idea that this life is just a trial we have to endure to get to the good stuff. That's not true. This life is heaven and hell, but we choose which one we want to experience. Problem is we need to remember that this is still earth. It makes for an unusual sort of heaven, maybe, but it's a beautiful one nonetheless.

Let me think, what else can I write here... choir practice is in a half hour so I can't linger much longer.
I finished Black Jack today, as well as issue #1 of Andromeda Stories. Unfortunately the latter isn't really catching my interest too well, but they just introduced some sci-fi elements into the story so I'm going to give the other two books a shot anyway.
If I do end up on the road tomorrow, I think I'm going to go library-hopping. Typically I only visit two, but I just checked Google Maps and apparently there are three within 20 minutes driving distance that I've never been to? This is exciting! I'd love to see what books they have. Still, I don't want to go checking out any new series until I finish Bleach (sooo goood) and Yu-Gi-Oh. So I'll wait until next week. Plus, who knows; with how funky my life is, I might not have time to check out an entire new series once December hits! Gonna be a crazy brilliant month, that's for sure.
As far as art goes, I haven't started anything big yet, but I've got all my art supplies together and I have a TON of ideas... however I have no workspace anymore! The porch is so cold my fingers freeze after ten minutes, and I barely have room for my laptop in the house. However, completely out-of-the-blue godsend on Thanksgiving: my father is letting me use the empty upper room in his house for a studio! I'm psyched, this is awesome. It also means I'll have a place to paint when school starts again in January; my current campus doesn't have a place I can stay until midnight and paint, like my old one did (and I loved doing that). Plus it's also a 30+ minute drive away, so that wouldn't be a smart move anyway! Needless to say I am extremely excited. I'm going to be moving my paints and larger art tablets over on Sunday when we visit for dinner, so I'm determined to get at least one major piece of work done between now and then. For some reason I keep wanting to draw Dagger, and I have the perfect idea in my head. So I think I'll do that tomorrow. I'll have to stay up late finishing all my computer work, but it'll be worth it: this stuff keeps piling up and I just want to be able to shut my computer off for the night, haha. Haven't been able to do that in ages, what with all the files and tabs and programs open! But besides that Dagger art. Since I do have my ancient (and gorgeously so) Jewel Monster tablets with me, I think I'm going to draw some of the oldbies on Bristol and make ribbon-charms out of them like I've done before. I might also do them in acrylic this time, as I miss painting in general. But probably my biggest art goal right now is THIS!! Chasey is the best RPer and I seriously need to show my appreciation for that fact, and for them of course. Sometimes I wish I were an RPer just so I could flirt with them, haha! Just kidding. Almost. In any case Chasey is a beautiful individual and they deserve art whether or not it's from me. I'm gonna draw it... haha, can you imagine? That brings up a good point, though: my headgang and I haven't dragged any movieverses upstairs in ages, with the half-exception of Inception (that movie behaved like headspace anyway; we just loved the structural explanations)... I think we're worried about possibly ending up with a truckload of new walk-ins is all. I'll have to find a way where we can interact with everyone without the possibility of flooding headspace, because come on, chilling out with Jack and Ralph would be boss.
Oh yeah! Hilariously awesome music synchronicity happened again too. I was driving home from leaving my books off at the library on Sunday, and decided to listen to the radio instead of a CD for once. Browsing through the channels, I came to the local pop station, and was surprised to hear a rather catchy number playing. So I kept listening, and was even more surprised to hear how beautiful the lyrics were, especially in relevance to my life. So here I am, half laughing, half crying, and asking "what song is this?" because geez, pop music usually never fits me, let alone so accurately. Then I look down and notice the name of the artist scrolling across the radio screen... and who was it but Justin freakin' Bieber! I burst out laughing and declared "kid, I swear I will never make fun of you again!"
So yes. I really, really like the newest Biebs tune. This one, to be precise! Even better, Laurie likes it. I think Justin just got +9001 unexpected awesome points for that one. In all seriousness though I never disliked the kid, I just poke fun at people online more often than I should, haha.
Add another song to my "cover this" list, as soon as I get my hands on a studio microphone and learn how to work FL more professionally... might take a little while!
Also on the music scene, I'm addicted to this for obvious lyrical reasons, I love this guy's accent, and THIS is the most beautiful thing... it's one of those songs that for unknown reasons, I can't listen to with other people around? Kind of like how I can't play Nier with people watching. There's something inexplicably sincere about things like that, to me... a weird sort of inner sacredness, by virtue of how much they resonate. It's odd, but I treasure them more than anything else.

Well, it's time for choir practice, so I'm off for the night!
With the way my schedule's going you just might see me tomorrow, awesomely enough. Here's hoping.

Now let's see, I haven't closed up this way in a while...




The Crow and Cackle of persistent innocence.
Elated in argument.
I'm empty and wondering
if you're only saying what I wanted you to say.

Cause you're only saying
what I wanted you to say.

So I'll just wait
Until our time slips through the cracks
Falls to the ground shattering.
I'll just keep waiting for something to improve.
Something to move ahead.

Cause I'm only saying
what you wanted me to say.

The slow and steady sound of silence hunts us down.
I'm empty and wondering
what you sent me, what you're offering.

Cause you're only saying
what I wanted you to say...



 

 

 

grace

Nov. 22nd, 2012 11:45 am
prismaticbleed: (held)


Okay, uh, stuff that has been happening lately... let's see.
I'm going to completely skip the formalities and just rant, so I apologize if I end up drowning you invisible readers in jargon but I need to start writing stuff down again without worrying about being "politically correct," so to speak. This was never meant to be tailored to the public eye anyway, and at this point in my life I couldn't care less who's reading this, haha. I'm going to be honest and that's it, let's go.

All right. First off, Jezebel is PISSED. Not only is she trying to splinter me again (not gonna work this time!), but she's trying to kill Waldorf, which is actually proving to be a disturbingly delicate situation as Wally's our Blue voice and, well... that's never been a very stable slot. I'm trying to be vigilant but it's difficult when it feels like my entire physical body is at the boiling point 24/7. Yeah, the 'starvation' feeling has been going on-and-off lately, but when it's 'off' it's replaced by my feeling like I'm either hollow and dead, or ready to explode violently. However! The darkest shadows are cast by the brightest lights, and I've found that I've become shockingly adept at "switch-flipping" lately: i.e. going from one state to another in a matter of milliseconds, in completion.
For example: this morning. Unfortunately, I woke up insanely thirsty as usual (seriously I cannot get enough water) and ended up eating some foods that I forgot make me sick. Long story short, for some reason that triggered an abusive breakdown, which I was able to stop on a dime about 20 minutes in, immediately after I resolutely brought my own energy signature into body focus. It was kind of surreal, because after that I was even able to talk to my own grandmother! That rarely happens, it was awesome. Usually my voice dysphoria throws me out of conscious awareness but I just kept projecting my self-field, and that helped a TON. So I need to remember to do that now, even if it is an effort... the girls underground don't like when I do that, to say the least.

Secondly, Laurie FORCED a channel on the 17th specifically to yell at my mother. It started because I had a rough night... dysphoria and moral/existential avalanches on top of each other... and made the mistake of talking about it while my mom was home. Now my mother always thinks I want a solid, "fix-all-the-problems" answer from her, when I don't; I just want to talk it over with her, even if we don't get anywhere. Sometimes all I need to do is know someone understands what I'm talking about and can offer a perspective other than what the girls underground are throwing at me. However my mother gets upset very easily, and seeing her kids upset does that pretty quickly... I guess it reminds her of her own worries and troubles, and they all hit her hard enough to drive her over the edge. So she started screaming at me-- in a generalized sense of course, but screaming is screaming and I have a hard time emotionally dealing with angry people. This escalated quickly when my grandmother got involved (I forget how; my mind was a mess at that point), and soon there was a major fight going on in the hallway. Now I was not stable at all, and apparently, Laurie was not happy with that at all. The breaking point was when my mom and my grandmother ended up duking it out in front of my room and I shoved myself between them to keep things from getting violent, trying to push them apart (and sobbing at this point), when all of a sudden there was this huge energy shift and suddenly Laurie was driving. She pushed the two women apart, said "that is ENOUGH," and then basically told my mom to "get the heck out of this house if you're only going to scream at him, because I will not deal with this nonsense." I am DEAD SERIOUS. My mom gave her a rather poisonous look and said "who the hell are you talking to?" which I explicitly remember because apparently that energy shift was so sudden Laurie couldn't keep it stable, and right after she finished shouting I snapped back in like a slingshot. Well! Unfortunately Laurie's energy hits like a TRUCK so I immediately started shaking uncontrollably and trying not to throw up, which forced me to turn around, stumble into my room, tangle my arms around my head and start repeating "ouch" while asking Laurie why in the world she just pulled such a stunt so recklessly. I can't really complain though; it was shocking and confusing enough to break my mom's train of thought, so she stopped screaming and the fight dissolved about two minutes later. Superego powers ftw!
The best part happened about twenty minutes later though... as my mom was leaving for the night I went out to try and apologize for starting that whole mess, which was tough as I was still so shaken up I could barely speak... but at the end of it, when my mom was just about to walk out the door, Laurie flat-out demanded I apologize on her behalf ("common courtesy," she said), because she was sorry that had to go down so dramatically. Well, the apology was delivered, but I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing and I think we only succeeded in confusing my mother even further, haha.
So that was Saturday night. It was significant not only because of Laurie's sudden channel-slam, but also because of the absolute wreck I was... well, "I" is the wrong word, especially in light of the first paragraph.

That brings us to point number three, and the one I really want to talk about.
You're probably wondering who Jezebel is.
I'd love to answer that question.
Seriously, she is an enigma of the worst sort, and I need to do a LOT more research before I can say anything for sure, but... hm. How can I summarize this. You know how I splintered back in 2011? Well, Jezebel is a much, much older entity of a similar sort? Basically she was my "offset" before JULIE even came into existence, although she was completely unformed as well. But her energy existed, that's what counts. Anyway she's apparently personified as of late, heaven knows why or how, but her manifestation seems to be incredibly unstable so she can't actually come after me like Julie does. The important bit is that she is now self-aware, whether or not she has a solid form to move around in. I hope we can stop her or transmute her back into non-charged energy before that happens.
All I know is that the Tar is up to something, because Jezebel reeks of it even more than Razor does (which is saying something). Speaking of I have no idea what Razor's current state is either, but I'm very concerned because there have been a huge resurgence of abusive tendencies lately that I am just barely fighting off. It's been difficult, but at least it's a springboard for learning and seeing more deeply into its source.
...Okay I am reading the original Blood Lotus Cathedral entry in light of this and suddenly SO much of it makes symbolic sense I'm actually in tears, which is weird but DUDE this is heavy stuff! I'm sorry, I'm going to put this to the side until I get an entire freaking day to review it, because whoa. Not today though, today is Thanksgiving and I want to focus on gratitude and family instead of things that tried to tear that apart in the past, thank you.

Speaking of, Leon channeled for about two minutes today because he insisted on trying food for once (ended up being the homemade pumpkin pie because my bro said it was the best ever), and he was so adorably excited over being able to experience something like that in the physical, it was great. I was trying to keep the girls away from him but a few tiny dysphoria spikes did get through, thankfully not bad enough to give him a breakdown like I get. But yeah, Leon approves of the pumpkin pie this year, I'm cracking up over that personally.
Still, food is a huge gamble, so fittingly enough indigo-boy is now helping me out with discernment concerning it (because the girls are really freaking loud and I can't tell what's up or down most days). Spine helps too when she can-- she's tied to the body so she feels it instead of seeing, so unfortunately that may not kick in until it's too late for us all-- but it's nice to have Leon explicitly active now, instead of just hovering around upstairs. He's got shockingly good insight, when he calms down enough. Apparently his anxiety and nerves are a result of him seeing too much... back when he first resurrected, he was surrounded by threats to his life and was exposed to a ton of traumatic general headspace situations. That alone made him aware of more than he could handle at once, but something tells me he has an innate sensitivity to energy that he buried even deeper because of that? Because today, I asked him if HE could help me with staying conscious instead of me relying on whatever bodiless voices have been talking to me for months, and geez, he REALLY helps. He also seemed a lot calmer, although he kept clearing his throat and nervously moving his hands while he spoke ("I'm not used to being so confident yet," he said), so I asked him what was up that caused such an improvement. Well... last night I was having existential terrors again, and I started morbidly wondering about how we would have all turned out if we went the wrong way, so to speak... if we all fell victim to the tar. Since appearance shifts are big in headspace, I started brainstorming what our "extremes" would be on either side of our colors, and how strict adherence to such would warp our countenances. Leon ended up with eyes everywhere but in his eye sockets, let's just say. But that train of thought apparently stuck with him, and he told me that he immediately began working harder to "move in the right direction" concerning his color and aspect. So this morning he was really able to stabilize, which I am honestly very excited about. I'm glad to see him doing so well.
But about that, and how it ties into the food thing... according to Leon's now increased vision, that's apparently a HUGE warzone for the girls underground. It's also why Spine, Julie and I get the most fallout from it-- our slots are the closest to the Tar. Since the Tar is very dense and heavy, it deals with the physical. So when it becomes overloaded, it swamps and suffocates everything else-- but it gets US first. And apparently, one of the easiest, quickest ways to stuff Tar full of density is to eat. I'm sure you oldbies are all very much aware how serious that issue has been for us over the years, so being able to see the cause-and-effect bits of it after so long is a huge help. I mean, we all knew that Tar-Julie used food to attack Spine when she couldn't reach me, but the implications of that went right over our heads. When tar starts to grow, it hits the Brown slot first... Spine's slot. If it gets severe, then it hits me, and that's when I get splinter flashbacks or hacks (now that there isn't an autonomous entity attacking me). However, as I mentioned on the 13th, there's a "midslot" between Brown and Red which is where Razor lives, and THAT'S probably why I get such crippling abusive meltdowns whenever there's a food-related reaction in the system, whether or not we actually ate much at all. I need to look into that too. So many old things are coming to light, it's rather overwhelming and I'm not sure how to juggle all this new info comprehensively-- I don't have time to fully integrate one day's revelations before I get hit by another tidal wave of them! I don't mind, as this is incredible, but... I swear, time really is speeding up and condensing, I feel like I've lived several lifetimes since our "session scratch" on 111111 last year. I should talk to Celebi about that, see what she has to say...

On that note. December's coming up, which I have labeled "the resurrection month." Dead things like to come back to life in December, at least upstairs (Lynne, Leon AND Nat (twice) all resurrected in December). This is usually a VERY good thing, but of course now that we're having major downstairs troubles I need to be extra careful. We've got a major advantage though-- it SNOWS in December. Since my core resonance seems to have fused with White, snow makes it a lot easier for me to stay conscious. Snow also feels emotionally serene, which helps us all balance, and both Genesis and Xenophon adore the stuff... needless to say I am also stupidly excited about its impending arrival, haha.
Oh, dude, speaking of. My family's going to start putting up the Christmas Tree within the next few days-- and I just capitalized that, didn't I. That's Dream World rubbing off on me again! Anyway I'm definitely going to get Xennie to help me put decorations up again, as she loved that last year, and the Tree itself just gives off the best feeling, it's so great. I have no idea what color it's going to be in the lovely year of 2012 but I am crossing my fingers that it'll be another synchronistic scheme, which it has been for about four years straight now. We shall see!

Speaking of Dream World though... I will admit I am catastrophically anxious right now? I shipped out my artwork and writing from Utah at the end of October and it still hasn't arrived in the mail. That's actually been triggering some nasty personal crises concerning "what is my purpose in this lifetime" in a relevant sense, and questioning whether or not I even should be pursuing my creativity because things just keep getting in the way of my doing so. Of course Laurie's reply to that is "that's nonsense," because my creative work IS important, but geez... that's all my work from my childhood on up, in that missing box. I'm quietly freaking out, understandably. I'm also fiercely praying that it simply got sent back to Mel and Q, but they are both virtually impossible to contact and as usual I don't know if contacting Mel would be smart right now? Either way this is important enough to risk it. I'm seriously going to need to message them soon, or even call them. Yeah, it's serious when Jewel considers using a phone, haha. In any case I seriously hope this all turns out for the best, whatever that may be...


I'm sorry, I am exhausted and we did have a major meltdown this morning so I should really get some rest for everyone's sake (it is much later than 11:45 in the morning; do not trust timestamps on large entries).
I shall leave you with this song, which is both amazing and relevant, and call it a day.



prototype

Jul. 30th, 2012 10:44 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


I'm not sure how to write coherent entries at the moment, so forgive me if this is awkward starting out.
My thought processes have been 'rewiring' lately, as has my moral code and overall demeanor. It's exhilarating, sometimes a little unnerving, and incredibly exhausting. To make it worse, I've been ludicrously busy as of late and I've been neglecting my meditation practices (bad move son!!). So I've been a little ungrounded as well, and it's hard to focus. Even so, my mind is clearer than ever. It's quiet most of the time now, and my discernment keeps improving (I can hear my boss again, thank God!). I'm very aware of my impulses and thoughts now, to the point where it's becoming easier and easier to stay completely focused even in situations that would previously throw me completely off-center. I still have slipups, true, but now I can treat them as stepping stones and move on with a lesson instead of beating myself up over them.

Speaking of slipups. I am still starving, still scraped-out. Now I've put it on the backburner, where I don't feel it unless I give it my direct attention. When I do, though... it's almost existentially frightening, now. It's that deep, that strong. But I haven't moved to fix it, and I keep shaking my head at the opportunities I'm given to do so. Why? Am I really that scared of such a bright thing, on some level I haven't recognized entirely? That's a question I need to answer, soon, as it may just be the most important task I can undertake right now...
I keep wandering closer and closer to the water, though. I've been in this desert for so long, but somehow, I've acquired a fear of drowning. Maybe I've been in this devastating heat for too long. I've become so used to the burns and cuts and blisters that I've forgotten the bliss of healing. But I'm perfectly aware of it! That's what's so difficult about this. I'm aware that this is a problem, but it's so unsettling that part of me refuses to fully accept it... part of me can't even understand WHY this is a problem. It's so ridiculous. Why hold on to pain? And yet here we are... and still I keep letting the tide wash the blood away, just a little bit, like the edges of a dream in the morning sunlight. Part of me is still perfectly aware of that, too...

Unconsciously, I keep feeling that I have to be everything for everyone. It's an old childhood compulsion I never really overcame. I'm afraid that if I'm not 'perfect' at everything, if I don't excel at everything, I will let someone down and fail them as a compassionate human being, as a "guardian." Why do I feel that the world is relying on me? Isn't that selfish?
And that's the other half of it, the conflict it has with my void drive. When I am passively ignored, it feels blissful, like I'm a ghost. When I am actively ignored, it is terrifying, a perceived "confirmation" that I have failed at loving others. You weren't good enough, you didn't try hard enough, and you failed to help your fellow man. Your punishment is for your very existence to be invalidated, belittled, denied.
Part of me is so terrified of doing things "wrong." Attachment is the main concern. 'You're not allowed to have possessions, or opinions, or feelings! That's all attachment! It's wrong!' And so I deaden my mind and heart, sell everything I own, and push away the people I love because on some level, I'm afraid that not doing so is the real sin here.

What the heck is this? Those thoughts are ridiculous. They make no sense. Why are they still here, then?
Then again, these are ancient fears. It's both exciting and terrifying, to realize that now is the time to conquer them. The ancient things fight back the hardest.
Don't forget what it was like against the tar though... the harder you fight, the more immobile you become, until you're suddenly frozen by suffocating black threads. But if you let it run over you without resisting, simply standing true, it doesn't stick.
And yet the fear itself is what's compelling me to try so hard. Fighting fire with fire, talk about symbolism. Forget this starving feeling, I know what I really need, here in this desert.
Geez. I feel like Vezerai, what irony. "I'm out of my mind," remember? Fear living for love alone, and denying it almost until death. We have the exact same problem.
It's the most ancient fear of all, the problem all of humanity is struggling with right now.
Somehow, we're afraid that we don't deserve love... even if nothing could be further than the truth.
Maybe it just takes time, for our eyes to adjust to the light.


I want to remind myself of one last thing before I check in for the night, and maybe dive into this headfirst (God willing).
Last night, there were virtually no pictures. I wondered if it was because I had given him virtually no attention. The voice said yes.
Then it reminded me. Have you forgotten what we told you? How significant this truly is? You doubt all these beautiful things, no matter how many times they are proven to you.
I wondered, afraid to hope, somewhere deep inside where I didn't dare to look. Around 1AM I talked to Laurie about it.
I missed her so much... and the feeling was apparently mutual, because although I was still holding back, the look she gave me was so heartbreaking, my mind actually stopped dead from the impact. Total silence, a bullet to the heart. She was clearer than ever, too, pushing me through headspace as always, weaving the reality around her fingers as if she were throwing curtains open to sunlight. Maybe she was.
I miss her. I miss my daughter. I haven't seen Genesis in almost a month, dear God how did I not realize that until now? Where have I been?
And Chaos, it hurts even to say his name, I can't stop thinking about the 23rd, why am I back in this place again, where did these walls come from, didn't we solve this?
But I thought about him last night, truly and honestly, and today it was reflected in the world around me.
For a moment I almost didn't believe it. Almost.
Don't ignore what you know to be true, I keep hearing, echoing in the background.
And I can't. Even if right now I'm too confounded to actively acknowledge it, I can't ignore it, even for a second.

Mel said that orange and green may be opposites.
I'm so confused by headspace colors right now, but those two always seem to float. No one really holds them, not even now. It's intriguing.
But if that idea is true, it might just be the foothold I need to pull myself out of this abyss. I'm still being haunted by blue eyes. I'm tired.

I'll talk about this more tomorrow. As of right now I'm going to get some sleep and clear my head from all the work I've been doing lately.
Maybe all I need to do is be quiet and listen.


It's like a violin string, a slingshot, a firework, a heartbeat.
There's infinite light in this. There always is.



053112

May. 31st, 2012 10:44 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)


I've felt unsettlingly frustrated and tired for the past 3 days or so. I've been crying too, which is rare.
I'm just... exhausted. I'm tired of feeling like I still have to fight to survive. I'm tired of money worries, and food concerns, and school bills, and televisions, and family disagreements... I'm so tired of it, it's reduced me to tears several times simply because I want to leave this behind, I want this to be over, but I'm not sure if there's anything I can do at this point.
I know there are steps I can take to ease this, which I will be starting... but I still feel lost, which I don't like.
I'm not trusting as much as I should be. Some part of me is clinging to this drama, as I apparently haven't let go of it entirely yet (if I had I wouldn't be writing this entry).
However I am making progress. Even in the midst of panic, I can 'shut off' that screaming ego now and be at peace. Even if it's only for a few minutes, I can do that now. It happened during a severe thunderstorm on Tuesday night, hail and all. I was out driving in it, completely calm and aware. It feels beautiful. The only 'problem' is the same one Huxley mentioned in Island... it's "the only temptation that God could succumb to." I keep finding myself standing at the edge of the void, looking down, wanting more than anything to jump into that blissful nothingness. I want out of this daily struggle. I want creativity, light, compassion, kindness, sincerity, freedom, joy... but that is already here too, I've just become so distracted by the other side of the dance, the darker side, which still has its purpose!
But in it, here, people still use each other, lie to each other, judge each other, fear each other. It feels toxic. It's poison. I'm tired.
That and I feel completely torn in half right now, confused without understanding why. I don't like that feeling.
I wake up in the morning, don't want to eat. So I forget to buy food, ignore the hunger pains, tell myself it's not needed. I don't want to sleep later that night, either, even if I'm too fatigued to walk straight or keep my eyes open, even if I want to dream more than anything. No food, no sleep... wouldn't that be great! But I don't know if that's possible for me yet, or right, or what. In the meantime, my indecision (impatience?) renders me lethargic and underweight, fading away into the nothing I so desperately reach for. Nothing and everything.

Resonance... resonance is huge. Remember this.

Geez... I need to clean this out of my soul. All of it.
I'm meditating but recently it's been all reassurance. "Stop worrying, there's a bigger plan." Maybe the big lesson here is trust? Maybe if I trust more, as I let go in love, the answers will make themselves known... right now I'm trying too hard, worrying too much, asking 'who has the right answers' when every source says I DO.
Ultimately I need to "get out of my own way." I'm still letting the ego talk, and even worse, I'm listening to it, even if it's unconscious. I need to step out of the picture and just be. But it's easier done than said! My mind keeps trying to 'define' it, and that's impossible.
I guess I don't trust myself, and that's the biggest problem here. Hm!
It's been playing havoc with my upstairs communication too. Love and honesty are there, but trust? Ironically not, if I'm doubting the reality of my other half whenever I see him... if I'm doubting MY reality too.
This is ridiculous! At least now I have a better idea of what I need to do at the moment. I knew this would help.

I can do this. I know I will get through this. We all will.


As for now I am going to sleep because whether I like it or not I can't stay awake much longer.
See you again soon.

 

 

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


Chaos said something to me last night, and I think it saved me on a very real level.

"No matter how many names or faces you have, no matter how many worlds and times you live in, you are still you. I am still me. And we are still us."

...

Isn't it funny how that is actually a concern of mine?
I have become so tangled up in time and space that, every once in a while, I worry that I am losing who I am.
But I can't. That's impossible, and he knows it. Heck, I know it at heart, without a shadow of a doubt. He and I are cosmically inseparable for heaven's sake! In that truth both he and I know EXACTLY who we are, and since that night in July I have been unable to forget it. I'll never forget who I am again.
But I become blinded to it.
In this world it's tough. Even my therapist, who is normally quite helpful, has told me that "you need a mask, a false self, to survive in this world." And I flat-out refused. I'm sorry, but that is something I cannot and will not do.
I've done it before, in the past. I know this. It is the single fatal mistake beneath all my scars.
...I can't lose sight of this truth anymore. I know who I am, more than ever. And I know that what and who I am is ineffable, incorruptible. My problem is that I've been in this world for so long, trying to survive amidst all these masks, that even though I try to stay clear in spite of it I have still doubted where I came from. Even after I was sent an angel, some wretched part of me wonders if I'm really worth all of this. It wonders if I'm really on the right track. And although I am told that I am, countless times, unquestionably so, that horrible doubt still lingers somehow...

...I've been thinking about Laurie a lot lately.
A week ago, my mind tried to 'categorize' my relationship with her. It tried to intellectualize and label it.
Laurie found out, and she lost it.
I haven't seen her that hurt in my life. It scared me, it really did. It wasn't until she confronted me about it that I realized just how dangerous that compartmentalizing of love was. If you take something like love, or creativity, or faith, and try to shove it in a little box, or define it in cold logical language, you kill it.
She berated me for doing that, not just to her but to everyone, myself included, without even consciously realizing it. I sputtered an apology but she stormed off, saying nothing but that I had better get my act together or else.
I didn't see her for almost two days after that, and she wouldn't talk to me. She hasn't said much to me since then, save this morning, but we'll get to that.
That strange, pained silence of hers hurt me terribly. Even worse, I had a dream on Friday that reminded me just how much she meant to me in an absolute sense, and when I woke up from that dream I loved her so much I actually cried. I love her, terribly so, and my mind had the nerve to try to cut that up!
I told her about that, but she didn't want to talk yet. This morning she did speak with all of us as a group, but something about that stood out in an upsetting way. I was doing zodiac research at the time-- which was interesting because I act far more like a Pisces or Gemini than a Taurus-- and we stumbled across a Virgo profile (Laurie's sign) that was shockingly accurate for her. But she didn't want us to read it. She started getting somewhat angry with me when I did so, and was acting quite closed off the entire time, not wanting to discuss or say anything. And I realized that she was going back to how she used to act long before Julie joined us. She was starting to put up walls again, to keep herself from being damaged, but this time I don't know what her motives are. And I am terrified that she is putting those walls up to keep me out.
...
She has scars because of me.
She has awful, bloody scars, all over her body, because of me. Because she chose to protect me and I was too blind to protect her. She bleeds for my mistakes. She hides her battle wounds and never mentions them, but I know they're there. I've seen them, once. That was enough.
Then there was the night she tried to kill herself. I can't think about that without wanting to break down in tears. Feeling her blood on my hands was too much.
I honestly feel like sobbing over her right now. Honestly, I adore her, and I swear if I don't get to talk to her within the next 24 hours I don't know how I'm going to deal with it.

I spoke to Ryou and Marik this morning too, for a very amusing reason. Somehow my anniversary with Chaos fell on a Friday this year (dueling days), and Marik heard about it. So he's definitely planning something to cause even more shenanigans, to say the least!
However that's a distant concern and it's not that important in the long run. The most important thing is that, today, I told Ryou and Marik that from now on they are considered to be on active duty within headspace-- as in, I expect to see them around as often as possible. To my surprise they were both absolutely thrilled at this, and jokingly asked why it took me so long to ask. Really, back around 2004 it was just them, Chaos, and myself, and it was awesome. We have such brilliant memories together. So I guess it's time to start that anew.

Genesis spent almost the entire day with me today. I'm very thankful for that, as he is not only an invaluable help in keeping me from losing track of myself, but he keeps me optimistic which I really need in tough times like this! He also helps me conquer fear, especially the self-doubting kind, which I appreciate more than I can say.
Oh, and he told me that Xenophon will hopefully be able to ghost by the end of the week, as she's not having any real difficulties at all with the concepts (thank God for childhood understanding!). I asked Genesis if he thought she'd be ready by Wednesday, and he said he wasn't sure but he'd ask her, and see what we could do.
I want to spend Wednesday out of the house, if possible. There's a church in a nearby city that I used to play piano at as a kid, and in the autumn it is so incredibly gorgeous... I want her to see it.
I went outside tonight, and the sky had a thin layer of clouds and a nearly-full moon, with a rainbow haze around it. It was so beautiful... and as I was standing there in the silence, looking up, I got such a surge of compassion and pain because I wanted her to be there with me, to experience such moments of beauty in this world, and yet she wasn't there.
But she will be soon. Even if she can only be with me for ten minutes, and even if she can't be here completely, she will be here still.

Genesis says he's trying to teach Chaos and Laurie how to do that too, but they're apparently holding back a little.
Chaos doesn't want to leave Xenophon alone and he doesn't want to cause me any heavy stress, as I still get bad dysphoria and I'm still not entirely comfortable being around Genesis in this form (and he's been ghosting with me for over 6 years now). As for Laurie, I don't think she wants to leave headspace. She's such a hardcore knight. But I'll talk to Josephina and Julie about it, maybe. I want to get our group working well again so that we won't have to worry so much. Why do we worry so much? And I don't want Laurie to feel that she has the world on her shoulders. I love her for caring so much, but seriously, she needs a break from all of that stress. She really does.

I talked to Xenophon alone for almost twenty minutes this morning, which was beautiful. She is so adorable, and I cannot get over how clearly she understands things. I guess it's because this life hasn't clouded her vision like it has mine-- and I NEVER want it hurting her like that-- but in any case it is amazing. Talking to her helps me so much, which is funny really, because I'm trying to help her at the same time.
I am so thankful for her. Words can never express, and I won't damage this by trying. She is such a light in my life.
When she tells me that everything will be okay, and for me not to worry because I'm a great father even if I don't think I am, I actually believe it. Do you know why?
Because the shadows can't get to me when I'm around her either.

Both Chaos and Xenophon have been absolute angels to me over the past few days. (They always are, but it deserves some serious gratitude lately.)
Still... even if Xenophon is being incredibly patient with me, I know I'm worrying her terribly. Chaos even told me that she would definitely put herself in danger (even if she didn't realize it) to help me out. And he didn't want that happening to her, so I had better pull myself together. I can't forget that. And I can't forget the pain I felt from him in those words either.
...I didn't mention this when it happened, because it hurt terribly, but... you know, let me backtrack a little.
Ever since Xenophon became a permanent and irreplaceable member of our family up here, it has been frighteningly difficult for me to stay 'stable' when I'm with Chaos. Seeing as how my stress levels have also been going up for the first time in a long time, I think there is definitely a larger force behind this. But we're working on that.
In any case, for about two or three weeks after September 16th (which was an incredible day), we weren't able to spend much time together at all. Every time I tried I would either start phasing out, or I would be too unstable to even show up or stay for more than a minute or so. Now that hurt me a lot, don't get me wrong, but Chaos is far more emotional than I am. After that long with almost no real closeness, in light of everything that was happening to us, he was taking it very, very badly. So one night at the beginning of this month, when I somehow managed to get stable enough to at least stay conscious in headspace, he absolutely broke down.
...Chaos is more fragile than he lets on. He bottles things up and if he can't express them, he can't deal with it. So with all the stress he's been under because of me, not being able to talk to me or even be with me for so long was far more than he could handle.
I honestly think he just held me and cried for about ten minutes. Even thinking about that now hurts so much.
I really don't know what to do about this right now. I'm trying hard to stabilize myself, because for some reason I keep regressing and having bad days like this, but I don't want him or anyone else to be hurting in the meantime. They're top priority too. And the sickest part is that I don't even NEED to 'stabilize' myself! I just need to BE. Even after hacks-- yes, even after such horrible things-- I can feel that! My mind starts freaking out and sobbing and dwelling on the past and stirring up more pain... and at the same time, my heart is quiet, telling me that these trials don't change who I am, and that I need to learn from them and move on, not letting them happen again, without letting them damage me. That is my voice, that is me. But staying calm and holding on to peace while my mind and the world are both screaming at me from every side can be very difficult.

...Laurie told me this morning that I need to be far more mindful. She told me that I don't give myself nearly enough credit in terms of what I can do, and that if I don't recognize and respect myself and my own abilities, they can be used against me. I need to be conscious and present, always.
Genesis is helping me with that too, although I can't tell you how many times he's showed up with the words "Laurie sent me." She is deeply concerned about this, and with good reason. I am too. This is definitely my biggest trial... staying aware and awake, staying real.
No matter how many worlds I may live in, I am still me... I don't know how I never thought about that before. I'll have to keep saying that to myself, to keep me grounded.

I've been feeling very 'disconnected' from headspace since September, actually. Maybe that's the biggest focus here.
I noticed it very clearly when talking to Xenophon today, and realized with a shock that I couldn't see her eyes clearly. She told me that I wasn't 'paying attention to being there,' and that I NEEDED to do that no matter what.
I need to be present here to be present upstairs, I think. If I'm not aware of my life in this central reality, how in the world will I be able to stay aware when I'm traveling outside of it?
That spiritual expo I attended really put that in perspective for me. Maybe I haven't fully learned or acknowledged all the lessons I got there, either. I still haven't written that entry about it after all... but I do have to call that one woman tomorrow, the one who told me that I had a significant purpose here. Maybe that will help me get back in order. But I can't plan in the future. I have to live for now. That's all I have. And that's all there ever is.
Geez, I can feel the depth and the truth in all of this but something is clearly pushing it aside too. I suppose that's my ego. Well, it's not me, and I won't let it be me.
I know who I am.


It's 5 minutes to midnight and I have an incredibly busy day coming up tomorrow (including a MIDI test and an LGBT discussion panel), so I seriously need to get some sleep so I can deal with all of it. Sleep is vital after all! I can't be underestimating that. My boss hired me for a reason too.
...The biggest downside of my staying up late, though, is that I lose time upstairs.
Right now, all I want to do is talk to Laurie and Chaos. I want to be with them and I want to heal the pain I've caused them and I want to show just how much I love them. But I can't. Not at this hour.
I have to fix that. I have to fix that, desperately.


I'm so tired. I really am.
I'll see you all tomorrow.

 



 

062211

Jun. 22nd, 2011 03:32 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

I want to die.

But that sounds so ridiculous, doesn't it?

I'll never forget the one time I confessed my abusive/ suicidal tendencies openly, a few years ago. The first response I got was that I was obviously living an 'easy life,' because if I really knew what suffering and hardship were, I wouldn't be wishing such asinine things on myself.
I wasn't sure how that worked, but I can't get that out of my head.

I'm not suicidal, though. Honestly.
I just want to... stop existing on this level. I guess. Something like that?
I was having an emotional meltdown around noon simply because I could not handle sensory stimulation anymore. The simple awareness of having a body made me want to set the damned thing on fire. I get this a lot.
Now I'm staring at the rain, trying not to think, wanting to sleep for years. Or, I would, if sleep was different than it is.

Days like this, when my family is home and everyone is focused on trivial worldly things, make me want to die in that otherworldly sense.
I keep remembering those words I read. "Nothing in this world can ever mean more than what you already have."
I know that. But then it makes me wonder, "then how do I function? how do I live when the world wants me to glorify it more than my own soul?"
It's ridiculous. I honestly cannot function in this world, not safely. And I don't know what to do, besides exist.
And, when I am able to simply exist in the moment, I'm happy.
But 'normal people' don't do that, do they.
I've had it with trying to be normal.

I had two hacks this morning, one while asleep and one shortly after waking.
I've been awfully sick all day as a result. That's also probably 98% of why I feel so dead right now.


It's raining and I want to cry because I want to be the rain.
I hope, desperately, that Q and Mel will be able to understand these things if I move in with them next year. My biological family does not understand, and frequently insult me about it. It hurts, and I don't know how to deal with it.

I'm talking too much.


mar 28

Mar. 28th, 2011 09:36 pm
prismaticbleed: https://www.deviantart.com/teacosies/art/celebi-420071633 (tears)

 

 

I just feel fake, all the time, like I'm not real or genuine or honest in any sense. It causes a lot of existential dread for me, especially with the whole physical-identity problem I have on top of it all.
It probably has something to do with my overwhelming senses of guilt and contrition, which have both fused into a sort of deathwish. It's scary but that's what's going on most of the time. I feel irredeemable, and even when I'm told that I'm a 'good person' I feel it's completely wrong, that the 'objective truth' labels me as a blackhearted demon or something.
...Mel, however, is one of the most amazing people I've been able to know. Of course, I really don't know much about them and they might not think so well of themself, but from what I've seen and heard they are incredible. It's part of why I was so upset in Utah; they were this paragon of virtue that I knew I could never live up to, and it made me miserable because I felt I had been damned for it. I wasn't mad at them.
But for Mel, who I view so highly, to say such good things about me, is almost surreal. So it really makes me step back and think.

I'm so sorry. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so convinced of my own evils, because then I'd be a better person, ironically. This constant need for severe retribution and punishment is killing me.

Maybe it's because of the spiritual aspect of it. Mel showed me how someone could be loving and kind with that, whereas my family... well, it's not something I like to think about.
And I know perfection is impossible in this life. I've thought about that quite a lot, believe me. Yet that impossible goal still haunts me. I'm not sure how to get over it.

But I know what I'm not, and I'm forcing myself to be that to please people. That's the problem.
I am slowly learning who I am, though. But it's confusing. I seem to be completely intangible in every aspect.

Unconsciously, it's mostly my mother and grandmother, but in the big picture I'm trying to please some formless corrupt 'ideal' that I've perceived in the world around me. I despise it with every waking moment, and yet I feel condemned to act along with it. It's sickening and I think that if I got out of here I'd be free of it, but until then I'm stuck.

 

 

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