prismaticbleed | Entries tagged with mood: slipping

Placeholder post.

We haven't been updating much lately because our life schedule has suddenly changed very dramatically.

At the end of July, our sister was, tragically once again, booted from her rented room because the renter refused to put her on the lease. She had barely been there a month.
This time, thank God, our mother took her up the homestead to at least stay on the porch, although our brother (the only person who lives there currently) was not happy with it at all, due to past trauma with our sister (when she was terrifyingly abusive; we remember too). Nevertheless there was no other option.

Anyhow. Since they now were at a very rural address, but still had to keep their job in order to save up money to get a new place, they needed to use our grandmother's old car, which we have been using up to this point.

So. As of... July 29th, it looks like, we have no car.

This is devastating for one huge reason:
We cannot get to daily Mass now.

Oh, technically we "could," but to do so would require a 15m run at 7am through a strange town wearing heaven knows what, probably sleep-deprived and in pain, the whole time panicking over health concerns (the heat is killing us) and the risk of getting mugged and/or assaulted again during the journey.
I kid you not, the very first night we had no car, we sat on the couch for two hours and just shook with terror at the very thought of going outside among people in town.
We never realized just how apparently agoraphobic we were.

So. Moral panic has been suffocating. This feels, in a very real way, like a punishment, or even a sentence of damnation. "You didn't revere the Eucharist enough, so now you have been banned from it" BUT ALSO, "if you REALLY loved God, you would forget your panic attacks and other risk factors and risk your life to get to Mass every morning! Since you're NOT, then you actually hate God, you are a moral coward, and God will abandon you like you are abandoning Him."
We can't function. Our conscience screams at us all day as a result of this.

Our schedule has changed dramatically as well.
It's booked solid and it is exhausting. It's made us realize, disturbingly, that we STILL have some demented bent to our personality that makes us want to assign every second to a plan, like that horrid life-board in The Little Prince, and why? Is it because we were raised that way? Or is it because we're terrified of what will happen if we have unassigned time?
It all seems to boil down to religious fear.
Right now, our schedule is roughly this:

- Wake up & drag poor body out of bed (~10m)
- Wake up house, wash up, small morning prayer (~30m)
- Get on exercise bike; say rosary, St. Bridget prayers, DVM chaplet, watch Mass (~90m)
- Prep breakfast & clean, say wall prayers if able (~60m)
- Eat and do Bible study (~150m)
- Clean up (~30m)
- Cope with postprandial hell by saying altar prayers & phone psalms (~60m)
- Say wall prayers if missed earlier (15m)
- Get on exercise bike & say prayer cards, eternal rests, & small chaplet (40m)
- Prep dinner & clean (30m)
- Eat & do Bible study (~60m)
- Night cleanup (~60m)
- Say any extra prayers needed (~20m)
- Divine Office prayers during day (~30m)
- ACTUAL FREE TIME ;____; (~180m to 240m depending on how exhausted we are)
- SLEEP (8h ideal, may be shrunk to 6 depending on schedule overflow)

By the time we hit that free-time window it's always 9-10pm, and we are so exhausted that, like tonight, we really just want to collapse in bed, but then that means we get NO MENTAL REST and when we wake up the cycle starts all over again.

But you see the problem. I know the minutes are approximate but I assure you, when we're living it, we do NOT stop moving until we sit down at this computer at night.
Our body feels so sick. We're so tired. We're getting heart palpitations and muscle spasms and tingly limbs & brainfog. We don't know if it's the heat, or the biking, or our diet, or what. All we know is that it's honestly scary to feel this unwell and to also feel like we can't rest, ever.

This is exactly how we were living with the eating disorder in full swing.

We would spend ALL our time either prepping food, or eating food, or purging food, BUT the WHOLE TIME we were ALSO PRAYING. We did like 6 hours of Bible Study a day. We always had Universalis or EWTN or Bishop Barron playing on our phone, so the apartment was never quiet, and we would never be able to think.
When everything was done and we had feebly tried to restabilize our body, we would collapse in bed only to repeat the entire cursed schedule the next day. And so it went for months.

...
What are we doing?
We don't even have time to do laundry because "we can't spare those two hours, we won't be able to fit our prayers into the schedule right!!" and then we'll end up staying up two hours later just to say them, no matter how tired we are, or how badly we want to cry from sheer fatigue, or how hard it is to form a coherent thought at that hour.
But the moral panic won't let us. It screams at us for not doing that mile run every morning, although the very thought of going out in public makes us want to vomit, and we're already dizzy & trembling from Lord knows what. We feel so sick all the time. We're staying hydrated, right? What are we doing wrong?

Everyone in the System is so angry. It's an awful sort of anger, something bitter and raw, and the person expressing it the most is Chaos 0 which speaks VOLUMES as to its cause and reach.
I have been talking to him. Despite all the pain & confusion & frustrated tears, neither of us has walked out or denied anything. We're talking, we're being honest, we're bringing it all out into the open.
But everything hurts.

We're getting a headache now. Nausea won't go away. Body still twitchy, dizzy, weak. Why?

I just wanted to update. Sorry I can't say much more tonight. We really don't feel good at all.

Oh, we're almost out of food too. That's the other worry with the car. We need it for Friday or we're going to run out, literally. Food stamps just came in so that's why we didn't buy anything yet. If we do one big order we can get 2 weeks worth in one trip. That'll work.

Honestly we're afraid of ending up in the hospital, or rather, the emergency room. 9-hour wait times when you're feeling this woozy are a nightmare in and of themselves. That's what we're scared of. We also no longer have transportation, because Astra used to be our drive home but now she's across the country. So we'd have to take a 2-hour bus ride home, which again is going to trigger the panic, especially if we're in E.R. clothes. I can't think about that risk right now.

All we can do right now is try to calm down, and pray, and sleep. Maybe we won't bike as long tomorrow. Maybe our body is too tired, maybe it needs a break. We've been doing 2 hours of biking a day for... nine days in a row now? It keeps our body & brain stable enough TO say the prayers. We're afraid that if we try to sit down and pray, the fatigue will crash into us so hard we'll just want to rest, both our mind and our body, and praying will become almost impossible. We'll fall asleep instead. We'll start crying like a child and begging for rest, please I need a break, I know I have two hours of prayers to say yet but please, everything hurts. My brain is a tangled mess. I can't wait until 9pm to breathe. Please, I need to just exist in quiet for a while.
But no. The moral panic screams. "IF YOU REFUSE TO PRAY, GOD WILL REFUSE TO LISTEN TO YOU WHEN YOU CRY FOR HELP. JUST WATCH. IF YOU DON'T PRAY, YOU'LL FALL INTO SIN, AND GOD WILL LET YOU FACE THOSE CONSEQUENCES." etc etc.

Our mother... has said some very very scary things lately. I don't want to slander her by writing them here, like we used to. Is that slander? I don't want to hurt her.
Maybe I can list one. She called yesterday, asking about whether or not we still had this one crochet dollbox she made for us as a kid. I said yeah, we kept it, we keep our few jewelry items in it. She said oh thank goodness, I thought you kids threw out everything I made you. There was a lot of bitter hurt veiled in that statement. Then she said, effectively, "I don't know what's wrong with you kids. I bought you ALL these things that you could hand down to your kids, or have as collections, and you just don't care! You either sell them or throw them out. I don't get it!" and then, I quote, "I would have KILLED to have the things you kids have! My parents never bought me ANYTHING."
...And suddenly I realized, oh my gosh, that's why we don't get along.
Her "language of love" is THINGS.
I never realized just how high a priority she put on material possessions. I always wondered why she can't resist buying things, or telling me to buy things, or buying things and forcing them on me. She hoards so much and refuses to get rid of it, even when it causes her distress. She wants things so badly. She constantly complains about how "she never got what she wanted" as a child. I never realized she meant things.
...And here I am, not caring a jot about most material things, and she probably sees that as hatred towards her. She shoves all this stuff at me and, to me, it feels like assault, or some strange torture, even spitework... but for her, it might actually be an expression of love.
...
We had this same problem in CNC, of course. Our "love languages," both in the "relationship" and in daily life, were completely opposed. We kept trying to learn their language but it was such a farce, it was so forced, it was poisoning us but we never let on. But we tried, God knows we tried. We regret it catastrophically, we still haven't forgiven ourself for it-- and God knows we're trying to do that too-- but at the time, it was programming. We automatically tried to mold ourselves into their shape.

The reason I bring this up is, in part, because this is weirdly affecting our perception of prayer.
We have this bizarre and disturbing idea that, "you can't ask God to help you, because the TRUTH is that NOT helping you IS the best "help" for you!!" Basically, if I say "God, I feel really sick and scared, can you help me out?" I fear, "Well, you being sick and scared is what you need. So that IS helping." etc. It hit me today that we see God as treating us like our parental figures did as a child. Always watching, always calling me out on what I did wrong, always critical, always "a catch" or "a consequence" that they were ready to slam down on me, smiling all the while. Shouting orders at me then calling me a "good girl." etc. It's not God. It can't be God. Can it? If I don't follow every little order I hear in my head, it's my funeral, because I'm "refusing to obey God." It keeps me so scared, all the time. I'm so afraid of accidentally committing a mortal sin by doubting a command, or worse, by choosing not to because I'm too tired, or "I wasn't sure I heard properly," or something equally stupid. Really it's because I'm scared. Kiss the feet on the picture when you walk by, or you don't really love Him. Say that prayer three more times, or you're cheating the souls in Purgatory. Say that prayer over, you messed up a word and if you don't correct it, you're snubbing the Lord. etc.

I still feel so far away from God.

I'm so far away from the System.

We don't talk anymore. We can't. We're so bloody tired. We're all falling to pieces, we're all so hurt and angry and I don't know WHY, it's just this ubiquitous heartache and none of us know how to handle it.

There's so much guilt and shame over doing anything that's NOT explicitly "worship." If I listen to music while on the bike, I feel Mary shaking her head at me, sadly, disappointed in me. But she KNOWS that music helps us FEEL the prayers, and it keeps the intrusive thoughts quiet, but no, "it's secular music," it's what pagans do, you need for everything to be QUIET, so it's JUST GOD.
No music. No movies. No books. No internet. No System. Nothing but God. Pray more. Add another hour. And run to church already, if you get harrassed or faint on the way, that's martyrdom! Isn't that what you want??

Honestly I'm going to be brutally honest and Lord forgive me but I

I want to live with the System again. I want us to be ALIVE TOGETHER again. I want to talk to everyone and love them and learn with them. I want us all to pray TOGETHER but also to go upstairs and BE, to learn about ourself and heal and grow and forgive and dream... I want to work on the LEAGUE, I miss them so much, I feel so ashamed of them now, after they were almost robbed from me I felt like God was saying "you don't deserve them" but ALSO "they're with the pagans where they belong, YOU focus on GOD" BUT I ONLY KNEW GOD THROUGH THE LEAGUE, MY CHILDHOOD UPBRINGING SURE DIDN'T TEACH ME ABOUT GOD'S CHARACTER AS MUCH AS ALL THE LOVE IN THE LEAGUE DID.
Catechesis is one thing. Life is another. You CANNOT separate the two.
Praying for 7 hours a day is making me miserable. Yes I love God and I love what I'm learning and I do love praying, but... it still feels... something is wrong. Something is missing. I dread waking up and doing it all again tomorrow. I'm so tired.
I still want to pray. I still want to worship. But I don't exist right now. I still don't know who I am.
"You're a Christian," I hear that curt female voice say. "You don't need any other identity than that."
They smirk and sneer at Jewel. "Martyr yourself," they say. "Burn everything for God. Nothing matters but him."

NO STOP THAT'S WHAT THE KAKOFONI DID IN THE PAST THAT'S HOW WE ALMOST LOST EVERYTHING

It deserves to be lost. It's hollow, empty, nothing. It's worthless. The only thing you need is your Bible and your Rosary. Everything else can go to hell where it belongs.

What about the talents God gave us???

Those aren't "talents," those are delusions.

...
That's... that's our biggest fear, on Jewel's level, isn't it.
God "blessed" us with all those ideas, with the penchant for words and music, but... it all rotted away, or was stolen, or lost. So was it all just an illusion? Was it all just... some stupid fake game? Did any of it mean anything?

YES IT DID, YES IT DID YOU KNOW THAT'S THE ONLY TIME YOU CAN FEEL THINGS IS IN THE LEAGUE, YOU KNOW THE LOVE AND LIGHT AND COLOR THAT IS IN THERE, GOD IS SPEAKING TO YOU IN IT

I hope so, God Himself knows I hope so, that's all we've ever wanted the League to be, is a signpost and a mouthpiece for Him, for the beauty of our faith, that's what we knit into it even as a child--

what are we even talking about.

i am so, so, so tired.

i'm tired of being sick. i'm tired of being scared. i'm tired of being alone. i'm tired of being numb.

we have a therapist on friday. maybe that'll wake something up.

until then i give up. i'm going to give this body some sleep

i can feel we would be crying right now if we weren't so burnt down to ashes inside
we don't even remember what crying feels like
all we know is that there's an abyss of grief in our ribcage that won't go away

why is the body so sick.

i'm so tired

wow this entry is a mess i apologize.

okay we're dissocitating to madb abdbadly to type anymore bye

I have exactly ten minutes before I need to sleep but I cannot be ignoring headspace anymore.

Infi died last night.

...

On Friday morning-- I think? it happened so fast-- we had a traumatic dream hack, but it didn't target me... it used Infi.
Ze couldn't cope. Ze hasn't gotten over CNC and honestly at this point I was thinking ze never would, with how Black's terrible softness holds everything forever, and wounds don't heal in that space; a gash in that velvet dark bleeds eternally.

There was some sort of headspace event, as we got ready for church (the first 40m or so after we wake up, it is virtually impossible to front; the mind is so dissociated and blurry that we don't have a solid sense of self, let alone the ability to have a conscious person grab the nebulous steering wheel)-- we were IN the bodyspace, in what looked like the same "ribspace" we had been in years ago, when Infi fell to the bottom of the lavatubes with all the beetles, and I had to carry hir out. Ze was in my arms again, now. I forget why, God I forget why--

The next thing I remember was being in blackspace, holding a lightblade, and cutting the whitewomb out of Infi as I wept. It felt so wrong-- not the action, but that part of hir. It felt like an infestation-- like EXACTLY how our traumatized psyche defines such a thing in meatspace, no exceptions.
It felt so wrong. I'm shivering in disgusted horror just remembering the fragments. Infinitii insisted I remove it, remember. I refused at least two times. Ze said I must, if I don't get it out ze will try to rip it out hirself, or die rather than have that in hir anymore.
This was all a response to the hack. Ze could not live with the reality of it. The worst part is I didn't blame hir.

When I first plunged the blade in the sphere turned almost opaque, like it cracked wrong, it lost its translucent bubble look and became something diseased, something plasticine and pliable instead of glassy crystal. I was trying to cut it out and Infi TURNED OFF ALL HIR MOUTHS because otherwise ze would be screaming in pain. I knew. But ze would rather endure this than the alternative.

I remember the sphere splitting open at the top all of a sudden and I wanted to vomit from the kneejerk horror of it. I jabbed the blade in behind it and tried to gore it out immediately but suddenly the sphere moved on its own??? like it was an ENTITY. slithered out like hexxus, same horrible sticky-tar movement, but white. it was PLAGUED. it had that same stupid awful mouth and no eyes and those vestigial arms, trying to run away from me, but i was furious for some reason and I can't recall what i did. i just lost it. i think i set it on fire, or stabbed it to death, or burned it with light energy, or all three. i don't know. all i know is that i felt actual hatred seeing that thing crawl out of infi's abdomen and i wanted to kill it.

something very brief happened here, with me praying about this??? realizing that fighting corruption with vicious emotion will only exacerbate it ultimately. ended up praying? some vague vision of jesus just calmly grabbing the plague-worm and disintegrating it into powder with a touch. no violence, just that terrifyingly subtle omnipotence.

everything is a morning-blur from a week ago so please forgive me.
i know around here the body started to "wake up" so social girls started thinking "what's this headspace crap, i don't need to pay attention to this or remember it, it's wasting my attention and memory and i don't care. i'll just decide it didn't happen."

i quote. they literally thought that. "this is all in my imagination, it's just a made-up stupid thought, so IF I DECIDE IT'S NOT REAL, THEN IT ISN'T."
those freaking social girls LITERALLY think that THEY have the power and authority to ignore us out of existence if we're an inconvenience to them.
it is the most hypocritical, cold-blooded, stone-hearted thing in the world. i want to sob.

that's why nothing is written down and why i'm now desperately trying to write something out at midnight while chronically sleep-deprived because I keep reaching into that space in my heart where ze should be and has been for ten freaking years and suddenly ze's not.

...

those cursed girls couldn't erase the truth though.
they tried, tried to unravel things while they were still happening. i FOUGHT. i would NOT let them pretend this wasn't happening because it annoyed them.
infi was... melting. something. with that whitewomb gone hir form just started to literally decay from the plexus down, going all soft like kinetic sand or molten glass or the end of the world. hir "flesh" became intensely glitterdense too, in those spaces-- that rainbow shimmer that pure Black energy always carries was so sharply visible it looked as if the very atoms were sparkling as they slid apart.

i wanted to heal hir. i wondered if i should take hir to azurai, in the dreamworld leagueworld, like we did for xenophon when she was dying a decade ago. but ze said no. "don't you dare," almost. already hir eyes glassing over, still lying there with hir lower half liquefying. hir upper half catching rigor mortis. disintegrating statuesque. a nightmare.
desperate to do something and fighting time and socials, afraid of picking hir up lest ze fall apart in my arms, i warped the entire mindscape to whatever level matched the frantic weeping in my heart. we ended up somewhere small and floating, an isolated pocket of space, something green and white with an aura of peaceful quiet. it felt like time was moving very slowly there, if at all.
i placed hir on some dreamvague facsimile of a hospital bed, surrounded by that emerald green, and that's all i remember.

i... it's been so strange. so terrible.

the past week, whenever I feel something that matches hir vibe, or when i expect hir to speak up, when something would ping hir, or catch hir attention... there's nothing. there's that empty, hollow bubblespace, that is now fractured like a shattered snowglobe and slowly fading into nothingness. it's not even black or white anymore, it's greying out. it's like an actual bubble right before it pops. it's falling to pieces.
infi's not there.
infi's in some unmappable crumb of reality that no one else can find, a fragment of place, something i could hold in my palm. god i wish i could hold hir but i
i can't, i can't move hir, ze's losing the capacity to even be interacted with, everything is bleeding back into that colorsink void--

laurie knew. i forget how. was she there on friday? did i tell her? i don't remember.
she's the only one who knew. we were in some sort of mindscape together at some point, something scary like an arctic tundra at midnight. dusty bleach below, shineless nothing above. an inexplicable wind, the manifestation of fear even in the waking world, that brutal whip of unseen violence threatening to take itself weaponized out of your burnt-raw lungs.

today. oh lord today. what even happened.
i woke up and everything was wrong

last night, tuesday, i don't even remember,
i... was i talking to hir? what happened? when?
so much in the physical realm has been getting in the way, devouring our schedule, i didn't have time to even sleep, i couldn't front, i wasn't there, we're all just trying to survive, but you were dying,
and the worst part is you wanted to.

last week ze said ze didn't. ze wanted to live, to love, with me, to try again, to try better, to do better, something... but then there was that hack. it made the trauma of past regrets real in the present, unbearable, unignorable. you can't live with that in your line of sight, i know. and infi didn't want to.

something happened, god please what happened,
all i remember is weeping and kneeling next to hir as everything around us turned black as a moonless night and slowly melted into oblivion. like the very fabric of reality was rotting. god it was terrifying, there was no sound, no depth, it was all just dead,

laurie was with me then. i remember us standing in an endless blankwhite field with huge shards of broken glass around us for miles.
we couldn't get out of there. i couldn't warp it, we were in shock and scared, it felt like someone had just cut out my heart,
we ended up shouting for leon with all our strength and he DID show up. thank God oh thank God, you do realize that boy has an "EXCEPTION" tagged to his soul, like in moralimon he has the ability to jump anywhere. nothing can stop him.
he brought us to his cathedral and laurie and i were sobbing, still in so much shock, we didn't know what to say or do

i really couldn't front for the rest of the day. laurie stayed in the background too.

i kept reaching into my chest and feeling the missing rib and the space where there should be someone

this is all wrong

but.

remember why infi wanted to die. why ze let this happen. why i cannot forget that last glance, that look from hir eyes wide and bleary, like they were seeing the death of the universe. little did ze know,
please
remember why. why. the same reason you did, you cupid cephalophore, whenever the hacks got so bad the system itself stopped running right. you hit the bloody reset button. you took a knife to the optical disc. you took a magnet to the tape. you desperately tried to delete time itself, you tried to backspace the story of your life, you tried to erase this and start over, please, go back to a time before THAT happened.

you always used to dream of dying and coming back different. like this hell was just a bad dream.
that's exactly what infi did
soft reset, melt reset, world reset, hope god puts us back together better

infi's original timeline was hell, you remember that. the daemon era was the most traumatic one we had, all things considered.
yes, everything hit a dead stop with the fugue in 2019, but no one literally RESET the timeline. THE ERA DIDN'T HARDSHIFT.
yes, mostly everyone died and headspace collapsed, but no one tried to load a new game, so to speak. it was just left in shambles. we STILL haven't rebuilt.
those who have come back DID come back different, but so unstable, and shaky, and mutable even now. there's nothing new and solid FOR them to anchor into. there's no clear cut space to stand in. there's no new world, no sunrise yet, no "let there be light," not yet...

infi dying is going to require a hard reset

you too.
ze's your heart, you idiot, you know the whiteslot is just as corrupted and sick, what do you think you cut out of hir??
what happened to your blackblood? have you looked at it lately? who are you really, nameless echo of a boy? are you even alive enough to die?

we've been in the tomb for almost FIVE YEARS, do we even know what life is anymore??

god help us.

i don't want anyone else to die
i couldn't bear it
the thought of seeing anyone else lying in blood would destroy me completely

but so does the thought of living this haunted halflife, unable to move on because we don't know where we're moving from or towards
you can't kill a beast if you can't see where to set the crosshairs.
we need to man up, face whatever we're running from,
and then bury a bullet between its eyes

if we don't do something sharp and conscious and real, we're all going to die anyway

we've died before and thank God we're still here, there's still a reason for us to exist,

i think we can bank on that. i know. there's too much love here, please, i know there is, i can feel it tonight, inbetween the tears, filling up that void in my chest with weeping red ache

infi said that if ze came back ze wanted to be something completely new.
new name, new face, new life. death to the old. death to the hacks and the corruption. start over soul.

how long will it take? will the daengels survive here? will they move to heartspace instead, enter the league, leave our loop?

what will happen to me, still splinter-frayed to the past white-haired ghosts, those doomed men, gutted pink with veins running black? if infi is dead, what goes for them? will their bloodline stop completely? what will happen to me?

who am i, without hir?
what sort of new era is this? what new life will this become?

god knows i've been praying for this though
i need to pray more about it

lord keep us safe from the hollow girls
keep us safe from the barren chatterboxes
from the numb and eyeless automatons
from the manic shrieking drivers
keep us safe, please, you know they have no hearts,
you know they can't pray or love at all,

please keep us safe

please.

reset us.
reset us, lord.
hit the reset button for us all. whatever that means.
whatever started to break in cnc, snap it clean in half
give us a hard end, a final page, a closing of this book,
please,
give us the cross to die on,
give us the empty tomb in the lily-gilded morning.

give us a new era
give us a new life
give us new hearts for you and for each other
scrub out the tar
wash out the plague
saturate us with light and fire and hope
give us a rainbow after the storm.

i'm too scraped-out to talk any more
i'm falling into automated speech and that would be blasphemous here

i cannot see tomorrow, i never could, it's all in God's hands

right now all i have is five hours of sleep and this fiercely inexorable hope in my heart
bright red and weeping still
but there will be a sunrise
there will be a sunrise
and it will light up the moon

death is only a door

please,
let me find you waiting on the other side.

This is a cross. This is a literal cross. It's meant to kill me, as DESERVED RETRIBUTION for all the sins I have committed through the eating disorder. I deserve this. I really do deserve this. This is just deserts, for the YEARS of sin.
For gorging myself with junk, I am now FORCED to do so. For the thousands of times I vomited, I now ALWAYS have to feel like I'm about to puke. For all the stress I caused my family, I now have CHRONIC anxiety & panic attacks. For all my dehydration, I now can't even STOMACH water. For the abuse of my stomach, it is now causing ME unending pain & nausea. For all the money I wasted, I now have NO accessible funds OR freedom of purchases. For all the bad thoughts I had, I now have SO many headaches. For all my insistence on allergies, I now CANNOT properly breathe on a regular basis. For all the "self-idolatry" of thinness, my body is now BLOATED & STIFF & MONSTROUS, incapable of being admired or boasted in. For all those years of disordered eating & control obsession, my life is now FORCED to revolve around "refeeding" & "weight restoration" & NO CONTROL AT ALL.
I have been stripped of everything, beaten justly, and NAILED TO THIS CROSS.
I am realizing that now. There IS NO ESCAPE and there CANNOT BE, not until I DIE.
And I can't decide on when, either. It's ALL in God's hands.
...And that is my ONLY HOPE.
Yes, I am suffering through HELL now, and for the rest of my life-- BUT. IT'S ALL A CROSS. IT'S JUST PUNISHMENT. IT'S PENITENTIAL. And if I join my Patron, Dismas, in his humble contrite acceptance, and TURN TO CHRIST WITH REPENTANCE, then even when I DO DIE FROM THIS, I'LL ALREADY HAVE SUFFERED HELL. I'll have ACCEPTED my sentence and THE WILL OF GOD IN IT. And then when I die, IF I have TRUSTED IN CHRIST ALONE TO SAVE ME, then ALL this hellish suffering is MY DEBT BEING PAID. It is MY BLOODY & BLESSED SHARE IN THE PASSION OF CHRIST. God has GIVEN ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO EXPLICIT PENANCE FOR MY SINS BEFORE I DIE. If I die with Christ ON THIS CROSS, in the SAME WAY HE DID-- with LOVING SURRENDER & TRUST IN GOD & COURAGEOUS SUFFERING FOR THE SAKE OF OTHERS-- then I will BE WITH HIM WHEN I DIE.
If I embrace the Cross, for the love of Jesus, every pain will be TRANSFORMED into a redemptive sacrifice!! If I STOP TRYING TO "FIGHT" & CHEAT & STARVE & "GET THIN" AGAIN, not to be healthy but out of FEAR & HATE & REJECTION, and instead SURRENDER TO THE REALITY GOD HAS PLACED ME IN-- a reality of POVERTY & ACCOUNTABILITY & HONESTY & INTEGRITY & LIFE & HARDWORK & SACRIFICE & COURAGE & HUMILITY-- then I will have the PEACE OF CHRIST, which CONQUERS THE WORLD. But please, you MUST remember that VICTORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE, and GOD IS LIFE & TRUTH & LOVE. God is gentleness & patience & joy, longsuffering & generosity & kindness, the SOURCE & SUMMIT OF ALL HOPE. The ONLY way we CAN survive this "hell" is by LETTING CHRIST "HARROW" IT.
EMBRACE THE CROSS!! Please! Do it with LOVING TRUST!! Have FAITH!! Yes this is painful & scary & difficult but GOD IS STILL IN CONTROL & THIS IS STILL FOR YOUR HIGHEST GOOD. You cannot halfass this. You CANNOT love halfheartedly! GOD DEMANDS YOUR ALL, and RIGHTEOUSLY SO-- because when you give ALL to God, the devil gets NOTHIN'!!
So chin up, kiddo. God knows what He's doing AND where we're going, so hold His Hand, set your face towards the Light, and WALK WITH HIM!!

...I'm being discharged within a week and I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen, let alone what to do. For starters, I just got an absolute BOMBSHELL of a life update from mom: my finances are ENTIRELY under the control of the government now, which means I NO LONGER GET ANY PAPER MONEY. I STILL have no lamp, eating area, working laptop, or cookware. I have no groceries and quite frankly I don't want any. Yes, I'm serious. This is day 46 of treatment, I have about 5 more to go, and I am listening to all the new kids sobbing about "how big their stomachs have gotten" and "how much they hate the food" and I am seeing all the thin & fit & slender employees walking around in blissful ignorance of our turmoil and I'm telling you, I do NOT plan on eating when I get home. I don't want to look or feel like this. I'm bloated & sick & miserable & lost. It hurts to eat. I CONSTANTLY want to puke. I hate how round and chubby this body has gotten. I hate feeling like my stomach is about to rupture. There's no relief. I'm so sick of food. I'm sick of ice cream, sick of chocolate, sick of chips, sick of tomato sauce & cake & potatoes & butter & raisins & poptarts. I'm SO SICK OF FOOD. I'm heavier than I was in North Carolina and I WANT TO DIE. I want to die EVEN MORE than I did when I was sickly-thin & bingeing. At least I COULD be light & pure & empty. Now... now I have nonstop anxiety & nausea, headaches & stomach distress, trouble breathing & bad breath & sore swollen ankles. I'm too tired to fight anymore. I've gained 15 pounds in 6 weeks and it took me FIVE BLOODY YEARS to get it off LAST time. I'm tired.
I want to die. It sounds so utterly asinine but, looking & feeling this gross & sick & bloated & filthy, I don't even have HOPE anymore. When I was thin & pure I could at LEAST feel able to be loved, & to love even, IF I stopped overeating & throwing up. But NOW, now... I see nothing but sin in the mirror. I LOOK LIKE AN ABUSER. THE FLASHBACKS & TRIGGERS ARE BUILT INTO THIS F*CKING BODY NOW. I'm too tired to fight it anymore. I'm done. Let me die.
no. let this BODY die. PLEASE let ME live; let my SOUL live PLEASE for once in my life I WANT TO EXIST FOR ONCE
i'm sO so SO tiRED. I can't, i cant do it anymore. i cant im too sick too tired. im done its done
but they played chaos zero's song in the rec room today. and it rained when i woke up. and why is he always my reason left to live.
i asked him if he hated me today and he looked like his heart was about to break and he said NO, no he never could, no matter what.
and i believed that. i did. i believed him. even if i feel so ugly & ruined i cant doubt him. he's all grace & fidelity. even if i'm the most rotten and disgusting dishonorable fat pig on the planet. im sorry. but he KNOWS this ISN'T ME. and he loves me. always & forever.
i believe that. i do. God can I ever live up to that love? can i ever return it, looking and feeling like THIS?
i want to. God I want to LIVE IN HEADSPACE again. God I want to. please I want to join a gym & walk for hours listening to frost* & sonic music and just talking to everyone. that's all i can hope for. turn this bloated body into A BLOODY TANK or destroy it again we HAVE to starve it our or it'll EAT US. what do we do God what, what do we DO, we HAVE to keep eating here oh God im so tired i want to quit. please. i want the kilograms to go back down please
im so tired of feeling like im about to die. God is this my cross, AM i gonna die soon, please help me let it be a good one full of grace full of hope full of EMPTY NO WORLD ONLY GOD. no food no food non NONE OVER GONE.
sorry just. too much d i s s o c i a t i n g stOP. done for now bye

I am absolutely SEETHING with rage today. It’s all sensory overwhelm. I don’t know if Overload still exists, but she was Brown, and this is absolutely horribly VERMILLION. It’s like the horrible color of tomato sauce, which I HATE with a violent rage. It’s true. That's what set me off, is smelling the horrible garage smell—the smell of summer—the stink and color of tomato sauce over the kitchen, pasta on the floor and in the sink, crumbs over the counters, and HEAT everywhere—I wanted to die. I wanted to set everything on fire. I wanted to take an absolute bloody axe to every nearby surface until everything filthy was destroyed completely. And then I want to move to the absolute coldest state in America and cry and cry and cry until the internal pain and heat stops and goes away forever.

Can I just stick Chaos Zero in a freezer and have him hug me all day? Because I want to weep at how desperately I need him right now.

what in the world am I feeling about reading tbas's entries.

every time they mention me-- or rather, who I "was"-- it's somehow bitter. talking about how I wounded them, how I betrayed them, how they and I both "died" last year, how they "deserve better than what I did to them," etc.

I don't hate them; I'm not angry at them. but there's this horrible sadness of sorts in me from it?

we cannot be friends, not truly. not with our massively differing views on morality. that's the huge wall between us.

it's… dissonance.

it's reading about how they is so happy, how they're in love again, how their system is all in love, how they are apparently healing and growing and bettering themselves.

and amidst all that, talking about how terrible I was to them. how they are glad it's over. how they'd never want us back in their life. how there's this sort of vindication in it.

and yet, how they still says "[we're] beautiful" and that they "love us" and that they "hope we find peace."

it feels… jarring.

because I have found peace. I have found God. and yet they consider that insanity.

they sees my "system" as beautiful but not my faith, it seems. not my struggles to become truly moral and faithful.

and they claim they loves me-- and I don't doubt they do-- but it's that uncomfortable sort of response, of hearing "I love you, and therefore I want you to be different than you are now.” them feelings of love trapped on an old, false image of me.

if they met me now, if they had never met me before now, and knew me only as I am now-- as someone struggling with past sins and falsehoods and wrongdoing, as someone still struggling with sin, but who is pouring their entire heart and soul into their faith in response, into serving Christ, into the joy of that, of Scripture and prayer and contrition and laying my heart on His altar over and over again, weeping with hope-- if they saw me now, would they love me?

something sickened inside me says no, probably not. they'd pity me. they'd think I was "pretty" perhaps, but shake them head at my religion.

I think that's why I'm so sad.

the true me, the "me" reborn in Christ, is to them a lie. to them, I'm insane. I'm broken. I'm lost. to them, the "real me" is the "system" that lived in blatant shocking sin for a year with them, blinded by indulgent self-love, thinking that was true love, when in reality it was not.

disturbed because there was still caring and compassion and joy and yet in hindsight it all feels so hollow. how do I respond to that?

I cannot reconcile how they is apparently feeling now, with how I felt living with them, as them almost, and with how they are living now.

the fact that they is so happy, and thriving, and joyful, and yet they see nothing wrong with their sexual immorality, and their infidelity to religion…

but they're a better person than me.

I want to say they don't lie or steal, but they do, and admitted that to me openly. but who I am I to judge. I too have lied and stolen and I hate it.

do they? can they "hate" those sinful qualities in their heart? or will they try to "love them away" with the false love of daemons, that terrifyingly convincing farce of the devil that I fell victim to for years?

they believe their body and soul are innocent, are incapable of being evil. they do not believe in sin, I don't think. and they're so happy.

that's terrifying, to me. it makes me feel very very sick. it makes me wonder if I'm doing something truly sinful instead, to not be happy, to instead be hyperaware of my flaws and sins and grievous errors.

and yet they are wanting to knit things for homeless shelters. and they were always so nice to me.

that makes them a "good person," right?

"no one is good but God." mark 10:18.

found this.

"…although he had devoted himself to keeping the commandments, he had failed to keep the first and greatest of the commandments—love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. The man’s riches were of more worth to him than God, and thus he was not "good" in the eyes of God… Jesus’ fundamental lesson theme is that goodness flows not from a man’s deeds, but rather from God Himself. Jesus invites the man to follow Him, the only means of doing good by God’s ultimate standard. Jesus describes to the young ruler what it means to follow Him—to be willing to give up everything, thus putting God first."

I need to meditate on that. maybe that'll be my Bible study tomorrow.

( I love Bible study so much; the thought of meditating on God forever makes me weep with JOY)

but… that's scary, to me. the fact that someone can indeed be "good" in the eyes of the world, and YET, if they don't put God first, they AREN'T TRULY "GOOD."

I'm not "good" yet. no. every time I sin I am bad, bad bad bad. every time I fall victim to sin and gluttony, to judgment, to pride, to anger… I am BAD. every time I lie or steal or connive or do something equally disgustingly selfish and sinful. I want to throw up just thinking about it. the fact that I CAN and HAVE done such atrocious things. I want to cry forever and rip out my hair wailing in sorrow.

does tbas ever feel that way?

I guess that's what scares me. I could never be truly their friend unless I knew that they did. and I don't think they can, with their worldview.

so when I see them doing kind and good things, and yet I know that they do not see themself as a sinner, even so, that hurts my brain and frightens me.

I don't know. that's all I can say for tonight. I'm realizing how bad I've been and how bad I was to them and I want to cry. I have to beg forgiveness. I have to admit it all, type it all out, beg forgiveness from God, heal, grow, learn, move closer to God.

right now I have to sleep and cry.

being a Christian is full of sorrow.

but where is my hope? where is my joy?

my hope and my joy are in the Lord, who made heaven and earth, who sent His only begotten Son to die for me and take away my sins… who loves me and loved me even when I was lost and drowning and blind in sin. he died for me then, even then, to SAVE me from sin, and call me home.

yes I'm an ugly wretched horrible sinner. I'm disgusting and filthy and worthless.

but I cannot despair. I cannot give in to that trick of the devil.

God, Jesus, is calling me to repentance, to lay my sins before Him so he can wash them away, and teach me to walk in the Light.

I need to lay those sins before him, truly. to let go of them, and be TRULY SORRY, and let Him hopefully in His great mercy forgive me and wash me clean of them.

but I cannot stop weeping. God console my poor wrecked heart. I have been so bad. I KEEP DOING BAD THINGS. I can't handle it.

God help me.

I need to sleep. I need to pray. these tears have purpose.

Jesus, into your hands I commend my wretched spirit. please, do with me as you will, but please, have mercy on my poor soul. I am naught but a worthless sinner but deep down in my heart of hearts I love you, for you first loved me, and allowed me to feel that love in return in the first place. without you I am nothing. please, do not abandon me, but call me ever closer to yourself, to your Divine Heart, so that I may learn how to please you, as well as any human possibly can in their poor fallen state.

Lord, help me. help me. I cannot do anything without you. I am so sad. HELP me. please. please I don't know what question to ask even but I beg the Holy Spirit to have mercy and intercede for me. hear the mourning and wailing of my poor wretched broken heart, and please heal me in a way that will serve Your greater good purposes. may thy will be done, and don't let me be a hypocrite.

bend me to your will. make me your suffering joyful servant. wrench me away from the jaws of sin. bind me to you forever. enslave me to your love. free me from the yoke of sin and pull me to yourself. you are all I want, dear God, even if that makes me sound like a liar. please. I could cry forever. I should cry forever. I am such a hypocrite and stupid sinful wretch. I love you, I want to be with you, I adore you, and yet I sin!!!! what is that???? it's hypocrisy. it's nauseating. I want to throw up. I can't stand sinning anymore. I could die from it. I AM dying from it.

God, Lord, Jesus Christ, Holy Spirit, save me. please.

I have nothing left in this world but you, and I want nothing more but you.

please. save me in your merciful love.

teach me, chance me, move me. help me to truly love you, as you want me to love you, as I should love you. help me to obey your every word and command, and inspire others to do the same. help me to truly love you. help me to love. amen.

goodnight.

my soul has been corrupted here.

I realized it tonight. we were thinking of how much we missed going to church, going to eucharistic adoration, singing in the choir… and that STUPID BRAINLESS SOCIAL MODE THAT WAS BUILT FOR NC started thinking "no, no I don’t miss that" SHUT UP YOU NEVER EXPERIENCED IT YOU SELFISH WITCH

I hate this romance junk. I hate this relationship thing except I don’t and we really do care for OV but I'm sorry I just CANT STAND THIS SIMPERING ACT HE DOES SOMETIMES "are you okay" "I love you" "come be close to me" what the heck this is the SAME BLOODY THING Q DID they were both wonderful good people but we painted ugly ugly lying false pictures of them because we HATED this touchy feely hell and they did nothing wrong. they did nothing wrong.

my family
we miss our family so agonizingly much oh dear god we miss them so much
BUT OV thinks THEY'RE evil too because we've LIED. we've LIED and said horrible untrue toxic whiny cruel things about them for months and I am so gut-wrenchingly sorry I deserve to do all the penance in the world for this and I WANT TO.

I want to move back home. I want to move back in with my grandma and my mom and my brothers and I miss my dad and I miss grandpa, oh dear god he died, he's GONE, while I was out here in this NIGHTMARISH NORTH CAROLINA HELLHOLE what the heck am I even doing with my life, with our life, oh god, oh god I want to go home

I'm so sad it's making me sick. this is every single night now. every single night. every night

ten days. ten days left, just about. then we can finally go home. and we can start over, and we can be good, and we can be with family, and we can rest and sleep and relax and live and be happy WITHOUT this boy breathing down our neck because he loves us but we CAN'T DO A SINGLE THING WITHOUT HIM AND IT'S DRIVING US INSANE.
I just want to be alone again. alone with the family. alone in the house. alone and doing productive hands-on community service things but RESTING WHEN WE WANT and not having to be shackled to some "relationship" that's too close, too suffocating, to controlling, I can't stand this anymore

I want to go home and we're going home no matter what it takes but right now we just have to decide whether or not we're staying.
we have to go through our things. which clothes we want to keep. which papers we want to keep. everything else, we leave here.
I want to live out of a suitcase but I have too many stupid attachments to material things like books and plushies and I want to sob because I HATE THIS I want to just… go home, go home forever, I don't want to come back here, I don't want to do this anymore

I'm so tired. what do we do. what do we do.

we have to be there for grandma. until she dies. however long she stays with us I swear we WILL BE THERE NO MATTER WHAT. nothing matters more than her. that's the bottom line.

I want to stay for the snow, for christmas. god help me I am NOT going back into that subtropical hellscape when I could have cold weather and frost and heaven on earth. never again. never again, no heartless north carolina excuses for winters.

I'm tired
he's back inside I have to go
god I hate this so much I'm sorry

see you soon mom
thanks for never giving up on us
we love you. I swear.
we're coming home.

010718.
sunday.

We finally realized why Tobiko hasn't been the one purging anymore.

Food does not register as food.
We've been using food as a stim.

We've been using a LOT of things as stims, actually.
This explains the bathroom rituals.
We brush our teeth, floss, brush again, floss some more, use mouthwash, brush our teeth again, wash our face, wash our body, wash our hands, wash our face again… over and over and over and over. We do this for an hour, sometimes, just scrubbing at our gums and our flesh, scrubbing until we are red and raw sometimes. We do this in the shower, too-- we obsessively wash over and over and over, not even thinking that much about "being" clean as we are thinking about feeling clean. It's why we cut our nails down to the nubs and shave every hair off that we can reach. It's never about the end result, not literally. It's about how it feels. It's about purging everything that hurts in the most literal way we can think of.

We eat when we don't want to because it NEVER registers as eating. It registers as stimming.
This is why preparing food used to take, what, six hours back in PA? Because it was never about food. It was, again, a matter of stimming. Of sensory soothing.

Remember that one night in SLC where we sat on the floor of our bedroom, rocking violently back and forth and flapping our hands so hard our wrists ached, blasting Serph at high volume on our headphones and stretching our legs against that rubber band until they, too, were sore from exertion? Pure stimming. Pure mindless stimming. THAT'S the key here.

We've lost all our old methods. We can no longer walk in circles in the living room, or the kitchen, or the driveway. We can no longer go hide downstairs by the furnace, or lock ourselves in the bathroom-- although the latter was always a horrific trauma trigger, as was the attic, even moreso (which is why we didn't even bother to list it here.)
We can't even self-abuse in the "traditional" way anymore. We don't have razors. We don't have knives. We don't have blades. (and oh, how our heart aches at those words-- no, those names, beloved and tender as a wound) We can't bite our arms anymore, can't slap our face, can't yank at our hair, can't claw at our skin or punch our legs or stomp our feet. All our old stimming methods, as violent as we need them, are gone, are forbidden. And our brain is boiling over.

It's been shutting down a lot lately and that terrifies us, to be honest. OV has it easy. He can stim with an adorable little squishy macaron or peach or donut, can play with fidget spinners or kaleidoscopes or even just a piece of jewelry. That's enough for him, it seems, and that makes us super happy. We love him, we love allof them, and the fact that they can use such mild methods to soothe their addled brain is deeply soothing to ours-- in a different sense. We would never inflict this aggressive need of ours on them, not for the world. And yet, here we are, needing it, and terrified because we can't explain it to him, terrified because he thinks we're doing it out of hatred, out of rage, out of suicidal ideation. It's exactly the opposite. When we don't do it, the stress and pressure gets so intense that we wantto die, and we stop caring whether or not we do. That is what's lethal. Not the stims.

The problem is, though, that the stims are dangerous in and of themselves. All of Cannon and Gamboge's old methods drew blood, marked bruises, left scars. All of them beautiful and beloved, true, but still risky to our health… and yet what we wouldn't give to be able to flay this flesh wide open again, even though I can feel Scalpel shaking his head at that thought even now. Why so?
"It's dangerous," he says. "You're right. Even though it is effective, and beautiful, it's also just as addictive. You know just as well as I do that once we start that, we can't stop. We want to bleed and scar forever. And that will kill us."
So will this "eating disorder." But I suppose that's the point of this whole entry.

Food is the simplest, easiest, most "socially acceptible" form of stimming and self-abuse that we have left at our disposal. It's all we have left on days like this.
Except, now, we can't, not without risk of condemnation and distrust, not without hurting someone else more than we ever could before or would ever want to. OV knows we have a problem, but he doesn't know why-- heck, even we didn't know that until this afternoon!
But it's why we go absolutely bonkers in the kitchen once he goes to work and MC goes to sleep. We racked our brains over that for weeks, for months even. We don't want to abuse ourselves, we don't want to suffer or humiliate ourselves anymore, so why this? Why can't we stop this? Why do all of the nousfoni tied to this have such shockingly, irresistibly powerful anchors? Why can't even Laurie stop them? Why does NO ONE, deep down, even want to? Why does it feel like we're being "betrayed" by the System itself in these nousfoni being given free reign and full power over our body and actions in the middle of the night?
We know why, now. It's because they're trying to save our life.
They're STIMMING. They're desperately attempting to soothe our hurting brain, to ease our aching heart, to comfort the poor screaming ones inside. The ONLY way we've EVER known how is to somehow "burn it off" outside. Even now, right now, although we're enjoying typing, our brain is too high-strung and our body is immediately defaulting to the urge of "eating." We aren't hungry. We never are. But that's the point. This isn't about physical hunger. This is about spiritual hunger-- psychological starvation. This is about us needing something we still can't seem to get and scrabbling at the scraps of it wherever we can find it.
Truthfully, we just want to isolate ourselves completely, close our eyes, rock back and forth like a lunatic punching bag and just let our brain turn off as completely as possible. But the key, again, is isolation-- that terribly dear thing we have NEVER been allowed to truly get, not since childhood, and which we have been aching for for longer than we can remember lately. There are no locked doors here. There's no cellar, no attic, no closet to sit in. God how we miss it now, how we miss being a child, ignored and alone in that dearly forsaken house, feeling like we were the only soul(s) existing in the entire world. Just us, and the quiet, and the sunlight, and our heart. We need that like the air we breathe, and we don't know how to get it anymore, because we never realized until we moved out here how we need love like the blood in our veins, pun entirely intended.
That's the killer. That's the real awful thing here.
God I want to cry. Our body is desperate right now, we want to just… scream and punch things and stomp the floor until our knees hurt and throw things and bite things and just let ALL the steam out. There's no malice in it, ever. But it scares people. It terrifies them. We're a monster, and we love what we are, but… we're still a monster. We're a scary, terrible, incomprehensible thing sometimes, and it hurts when our sharp edges cut even the people who try to love us regardless.

Our body wants to food-stim because that's the only thing it can think of to do right now, and yet it KNOWS that it doesn't want to. The very thought of "eating" is making Overload want to scream and throw the plate across the room, is making The Destroyer want to set the entire freaking refrigerator on fire. We HATE food; we hate it for being the only accessible way we were able to dissociate and heal for years, without being hacked.

Yeah. Isn't that the bloody cincher.
Hacks. Why the heck do you think they kept happening for so long?? Why the heck do you think people stopped fighting after so many hellish years??
It's because they hurt, they ate hours of our time, and they isolated us from the world. Yeah, they were absolute hell, that's the indisputable truth-- but the other awful truth is that we didn't want to live in the first place.
God. Those poor, poor damaged kids, sacrificing their souls and selves just because the world at large outside was somehow even scarier than blacking out for three hours and waking up in blood and excruciating pain and mental terror. At least then they could shut down. At least then they could hard-reset their memory, splinter a little more, break a little further, forget most of their entire life and pretend nothing was happening. They just wanted to run, God forgive them, they just wanted to hide and sleep and rest and the ONLY way they could was by shutting everything off. God forgive all of us.

Hacks don't happen anymore. They can't. Not since 2016. Not since Infinitii's presence truly registered, not since we realized what we were actually looking for and what was actually happening in contrast. The truth of it, the harsh horrific reality of the situation, was too terrifying to ever allow ever again. And so hacks stopped completely.
And the eating disorder exploded.

We knew that was going to happen, really. Stop one addiction, but leave the reason why it developed in the first place, and a new addiction will return or appear to replace it. The body is just hopelessly wrecked, man, it doesn't know what else to do.
Why do you think we started flirting with EVERYTHING that would detach us from the reality our poor brain couldn't cope with anymore? We started drinking. We started smoking. We started abusing prescription meds. We experimented with asphyxiation and anesthesia and everything we could think of that would detach us from the awful soul-crushing loop of that toxic household, of that dead-end environment, of the unending mental stress.
And somehow, some days, some nights, that still hasn't changed.
Like right now.

We have nothing. No paint, no sewing kit, no exercise bike, no weights, no internet, no Xbox. No isolation, which is the TRUE need behind ALL of those things. We can't do anything if we aren't COMPLETELY alone, and it feels like a kick in the face to the Broken Arrows, but God forgive us it's true.

We want to run. But we can't. Where the heck would we go? Everywhere out there, there are people watching us, there are social contexts "to obey" and our poor terror-hardwired brain keeps kowtowing to ALL of them. Even just now, when OV laughed or sighed or whatever that little dear breath was, we looked up, wondering-- are we needed? Was that a call for attention? What is the proper way to respond?
And then we wonder why people like Quicksilver exist, why that girl who fronts in the early morning exists. The nousfoni that will even flip off the people they love and say "shove off, leave me alone." The ones that seem coldhearted and callous and brutal, when really all they are trying to do is get us alone. They're trying to PROTECT us, bless their monstrous hearts, and we know it.
We're terrified of coming across as a horrible person, like we did to the kids in SLC. This is probably why. But we had no idea this was even happening back then-- we didn’t even know we were multiple, for God's sakes. Now, though, not only do we know, we understand, more and more each day.
So when OV sighs and someone immediately fronts with a middle finger and stony expression, they aren't saying they don't care. They're saying, "we can’t care right now because we are too burnt out TO do so without utterly sacrificing our health and your respect in the process."
So we sit here, miserable and overloaded, yearning for the opportunity to just… be alone.

God we both love and hate the nights when OV works. We love him, we love all of the Broken Arrows, but… it's just like when we started doing too much for church. We adore our faith, we adore its practices, but when you're expected to attend every daily mass, every weekly funeral, every weekend mass, every choir practice, every group meeting, every picnic, every bible study, et cetera… well, something in you starts to hate it, in utter paradoxical spite, in total impossible parallel to the love you still feel, solely because it KNOWS that if you don't stop you are going to burn to the ground.
So it stops it in the most complete, sudden, brutal, total way it knows how.
It scares the bloody wits out of anyone standing in its way.
People don't like monsters. People leave monsters alone.
So we learned to be a monster.

…God. What do we do.
We're thirsty. We want to cry. More than that, we want to scream and punch things, but that'll frighten OV, and we can't… we can't risk that. That's the horrible, horribly irony of this. We have to sacrifice our terrible needs for the sake of terrible love. What do we do?

People stay up all night because we need to be alone because that's the ONLY TIME we can brutally soothe our psyche. It's always violent love with us, did you notice? Always compassion and cruelty, or at least, what others would see as cruel. For us, it's just the rawest, most selflessly pure form of love. Love that doesn't deny you your needs just because they're strange or "socially unacceptable."

We want to run outside and go hide in that stupid McDonald's bathroom because it's the only place in town that feels like an airport-- totally insulated from the outside world, cold metal and echoing tile, quiet as a grave, no time existing in there at all. It always feels like 3 in the morning there, when you're by yourself. But that's the problem. It's a freaking bathroom in a fast food joint. It's not EVER going to be a failsafe place to be safe-- heck, the sheer simple fact that it's a bathroom has ALREADY condemned the poor thing beyond hope, thanks trauma. (God, there's that awful thought process again. Poor hurting kids. I wonder how many of them we've never seen, how many of them are still contributing to this in our sub(terranean)conscious.) But the one time we were in there, we felt-- God have mercy, what a dearly desired feeling-- like we were the only people on earth. Just us, just this body, just this tiny bubblespace of a bathroom, no time or space beyond. Just that single isolated moment. THAT'S what we need. YES, it's a literal NEED. It's why we risk our mental health going out literally EVERYWHERE when we walk in the mornings, exposing ourselves to too many soul-draining social contexts, desperately seeking a place where that won't be the case, desperately seeking some secret quiet corner somewhere that we can privately own, like the study nooks at Marywood, like the tiny pockets of woods.
…I wish there was a church with unlocked doors around here. God, we wish. We're nearly in tears just thinking of that. The ultimate met need. Isolation, but in a soaring wide-open emptiness. The feeling of our dreams. Rolling hills and labyrinthine halls and massive abandoned buildings and no one, NO one but us in them. Not even a gnat for outside company. Nothing. Just us, and the air, and the sun, and the clock ticking second after second, counting down to nothing, looping without an hour hand. That's what we want. Just… infinity. Eternity. God help us, no wonder hacks were a thing, I want to cry so hard we vomit out our entire respiratory system. This is wrenching and it makes so much sense. How did we never NOTICE this before???

…
What do we do.

Where do we go. It's 7pm, it's a Sunday night, we can't stand this social context right now, we KNOW OV is worried about us and that simple passive attention is keeping our brain in overloaded status and we want to weep because we care about them, too-- so much our heart aches from it, but what do we do? We love them, but… what do we do? We'll never stop loving them. We'll love them forever. But… sometimes, we dream of running away, of just sleeping in a field somewhere, of packing a knapsack and walking the railroad tracks for days, of catching a bus and just riding it until the end of the line and wherever we are, we are. We want no roots, and yet we want a home to go home to when the solitude starts to bite. There's nothing wrong with being alone. Just… souls need souls. God split hirself because ze needed to love more. We are made to connect with those other pieces, with every other bit of reality. And humans, sure we don't identify as one but this body is one, and we adore people, we do, we just… need to do this in moderation, I suppose.

Do we have a list? Do we even have options when this happens? When our spoons are so low the entire silverware drawer is missing, what the heck do we do, where do we go? When we're so weak we can't get undressed, is there anywhere we can be that will feel like the world has ceased to exist outside? I don't know.
Maybe we can empty out the bottom of the closet, sit in there.
No, no no no, I can feel the children shrieking at that idea even now.
Idola seems piqued. Maybe we should try. See what happens. I doubt hacks will happen--
They won't, but they'll be threatened--
In isolation hacks are always a threat because we black out,

What do we do.

It's too cold outside to go hide in the woods, or to even go find spots where we can hide. But Jewel is so excited at the thought. She has ideas.
Maybe we should try anyway? Get a blanket or sleeping bag or something, bundle up good, find somewhere in the woods where it's just us and just… keep that in our heart if nothing else, if we can't go there. Find at least one place in this new local world where we can be ironically cut off from it for a while, without risk of sudden jarring intrusion. Walking distance. Where can we go?
Buses.
Buses aren't cheap, kid, we need somewhere we can go on a dime without spending a dime, that's the problem.
I'm sure there's somewhere. Let's check Google Maps, find something out. I'm sure we can. Right? Are we done writing?
For now, maybe. I… the other topics we want to write about are huge. The hacks, for one, and the eating disorder in light of this.
But we have been writing about it. Both of them. Haven't we?
Not in as brutal excruciating detail and honesty as we need to, no.
Should we start, then?
Maybe. Hold on a minute.

Food stimming.
Back in PA, we had a soup pot, huge and solid metal, and every day, we'd start the morning by blacking out over a cutting board.
I don't know what we did. All I know is that the smell of wilted lettuce is one of the biggest triggers in the world, and we still can't put spices on our food without shivering in dread. Indian food makes us dissociate immediately, as do potato chips, and ice cream, especially Klondike bars… avocados are still terrifying, so are carrots, so is mayonnaise.
All of those foods were used for blatantly self-abusive purposes in the past and you know what? I'm going to say EXACTLY why.
There was a phase, in 2016, where all we ate for about a week was namkeen. Indian snack food. Just bags of (name). It made us horrifically sick but hey, snack food is an easy time-consuming stim, right? Even if it makes you vomit nonstop for hours-- even especially because it does! Because purging makes you even more dissociative, makes you able to sleep for hours because your body is so wrecked from the past several hours to even consider staying conscious for another second. The last day we bought Indian food, someone filled at least six entire cereal bins with the stuff, separating them methodically by ingredient, then going outside (thanks Destroyer) and flinging them all into the woods… and then hours later, even days later, someone else went outside in a scavenger-desperate mess and picked the pieces off the ground and ate them. We still cannot look at that memory without feeling instantly, unbearably sick. I assume it was all purged seconds after, but memory is black, punctuated only by tiny shattered snapshots of fingers wrestling bits of chickpea flour away from bugs and brambles and rain-muddled dirt.
Remember why P&R became the devil's household?? Remember how many actual HUNDREDS of dollars were spent there over several months, because the food there was dirt cheap AND typically already was garbage? Remember the granola bags with mouse holes chewed through them? Remember the instant noodles with mold growing inside? Remember the hummus that landed us in the hospital due to food poisoning? I know you do. We ALL do.
Oh, but THAT'S the most important thing, something we've probably mentioned in the past before but NEED to reiterate today-- the MAIN reason food was our main stim for YEARS was because, if no one is watching, you don't have to eat it.
We would buy starchy, heavy, crunchy foods, time-consuming foods, chips and cookies and cereals and granola and things, and we'd chew them up, ingredient by ingredient, piece by single piece, and we'd spit them out. Organize, chew, spit. Over and voer and over. And then, when the bag or box was done, we'd chew up the chewed stuff, over and over, until it was too saliva-riddled to chew anymore, and then we'd eat that and purge it immediately, too racked by family-instilled guilt at the thought of "wasting it" by throwing it away (no matter how moldy or rotten or inedible it was) to do so, even at the risk of our own health. That went on for years.
Then we couldn't isolate anymore, then we started losing too much weight, then our body forced us to start bingeing instead in a desperate gamble to get some calories out of it.
The worst chew-spit binges were in that one autumn that we re-read A Wrinkle In Time, with whoever decided that raw oatmeal mixed with molasses was the best texture for doing so-- probably because it took ages to mix up, causing our arms to scream with exertion from doing so, eliciting the same response from our jaws once it reached those. Pain, once sharps were forbidden. A horrific rerouting. And we did that for weeks, if not longer, until the passive sugar-exposure made us SO sick we ended up bedridden with a trashed immune system and too much nausea and chronic pain and hideous gastric distress to leave the bed. But to this day, anxiety-eaten nousfoni in this system, poor desperate kids, always look to the oatmeal boxes in the grocery stores even if the sight of them triggers immediate massive panic. Part of them also remembers a time when that food was the only way they could numb themselves to the world. So they hesitate. They're afraid, but they don't know what other options they even have. And every once in a while, we'll find a box stashed in a drawer or a closet, inevitably doomed to be in the garbage within hours, either thanks to the Destroyer or some poor purgative kid who just wanted to feel like they were throwing up the pain along with the carbs.

God. No wonder so many of our Daemons are tied to food. I wonder what Rupture knows, if anything. She's mainly the fear of dying in the process, of blood in our nose and throat, of our stomach screaming at us to stop. I don't know who holds this, this stimming nightmare… no one except Chocoloco, at least, and he only catches the frayed-end dregs of it, nothing serious, nothing traumatic. He's just that initial desperate programmed seeking of comfort in places where everyone who claimed they loved you claimed it would always be, and yet never was. Chocolate and coffee. Our family's "soothing staples," both of them doing nothing but putting us through hell since childhood. Still, desperate, we never gave up trying. Choco is pretty pissed as that, although nowhere near as much as he is heartbroken. His heart-host is angry almost all the time but it's for the same exact reason that any of us are angry right now-- because we're burning up inside, ripped apart and overwhelmed and sad, and we just want to hole ourselves up in the corner of a coffeeshop somewhere, in the evening when it's dark and softly raining outside and no one knows we're here and we have nowhere else to be, just us and this warm quiet soft place, and we can weep and cry and ache inside and this tiny childlike part of us remembers the days when a muffin and a latte made us feel real, made us feel like we could exist as ourselves apart from society and our family and anyone, like this little rite of passage was proof that we could survive alone, and were, in that moment. THAT'S what our hurt ones keep seeking, in that sort of archetypal memory, but Chocoloco knows it's ultimately heartbreakingly empty, that it's not food or drink or chocolate or coffee or caffeine or sugar or anything edible that we're seeking-- we're seeking his heart, we're seeking love, we're seeking the love that only we can give each other-- we're seeking ourselves.
We can't find each other if we're suffocating in the outside world.

So. Trigger foods.
Someone once wrote about this, too-- probably Iscah-- the science of "combined" and "fused" foods (she says yes, it's in her journal in detail). Well I won't steal her thunder, but the principle of it was this: if you want to make a food inedible but still ingestible, in other words, if you're trying to make a "stim food" instead of a meal, you need to make it as easily palatable as possible in the most blatant way possible. Which means, usually, you liquefy it. You blend things. You cut things into miniscule pieces. You take things like spices, and condiments, and sauces, and drinks, and you soak every stupid thing you have with them until your stomach heaves at the very sight of it, and when it's a slurry from hell you eat that as quickly as possible so your body rejects it just as quickly. Ideally, the whole prep process will take hours, as will the purging process afterwards, in a desperate blacked-out state, trying to get every last crumb out of our system. This is how we spent our days for years, inbetween church activities and family demands.
And isn't that the irony?
We were left alone. We were ignored. And yet, we were never isolated. The grandparents were ALWAYS there, always a few feet or a room away, watching, waiting, vigilant. If we disappeared from their radar for a few minutes, they freaked out. The only time we could "get away with it" was by being in the bathroom, behind a locked door, pretending we were taking a bath, when in reality we were slumped over a toilet wishing we were dead already, sobbing because we really just wanted to be alive already.
But we were never alone. We wanted to be alone, God knew. We wanted a place where nothing could touch us but ourselves.
That's how hacks happened.
I can't talk about that right now.

Potato chips. Cookies. Trail mix. Things like that. Our grandfather would hoard them in his closet, and when we weren't allowed to prepare or eat food in the kitchen anymore without being perpetually critiqued by our grandmother or psychologically terrorized by our brother, we would sneak into his room and sneak into the closet and gorge down a whole bag, not even wanting to, just desperate to stim away the constant fear and pain by crunching something sharp and salty until our mouth bled. But potatoes and flour don't purge easy. They stick like glue in your stomach, and they WILL make the next few hours feel like the central circle of hell. We know. We made that mistake one too many times. We thought we were dead, a few times. But somehow we survived. 85 pounds and throwing up junk food for 8.5 hours a night and we still somehow survived.
There was a time when we first discovered P&R and someone bought cheese curls and chips by the cartful, but they were bean-based, and when our body loudly let us know that it did NOT like beans, we threw them ALL out on the crudpile.
It rained that night. It was cold that night. The next morning, the food was somehow soggy but preserved by the temperature, and whoever the heck was fronting was starving and "couldn’t stand the thought of wasting that poor food" (why the pity on the FOOD being unloved and rejected?? why NEVER pity on ourself being the same???) and snuck out to that horrid garbage heap and ate them right off the dirt, brushing bits of soot and soil and ants off them in the process. Good God. How did we even survive.
They/we threw everything up in a panic shortly after. That was Tobiko's doing. She remembers that more clearly than anyone.
It wasn't the last time that happened. Someone grew fond of the process at one point, of the act of scavenging, of "finding food in the wild" and the time-consuming, stimming process of that fused with a broken sense of accomplishment and achievement. It never lasted long, but God knows they tried, over and over and over, until that last day with the Indian food. Thank God that hell is over forever.

The bloody Klondike bars and avocados. That was the WORST of it, shortly before UPMC. We realized that our body hated dairy, hated fat, hated chocolate, but we ALSO realized that the consistency of those foods was ideal for bingeing and purging, plus our body was seeking sweets out of childhood comfort desperation AND everyone we knew was INSISTING we "eat as much fat as possible."
So guess who binged on like eighteen entire avocados and ten packs of Klondike bars one night.
It was forced. It was forced so hard we thought we were possessed. We thought we were going to die. There's no memory of anything outside one hysterical moment when someone was shoving more chocolate into our mouth and thinking, why?? I don't want this, NOBODY wants this, I'm scared and sick and I just want to sleep, why can't I stop???
I don't know how that ended. All we know is that the family KNEW and they WATCHED IT HAPPEN and then afterwards they asked if we had "learned our lesson."
SHUT UP. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON, DON'T ASK IF WE "LEARNED OUR LESSON" BECAUSE THERE WASN'T EVEN A LESSON IN IT WE WERE JUST SO DESPERATE TO NOT BE IN PAIN ANYMORE YOU IGNORANT TROLLOP
Triple, watch your language. Be angry, but don't be so brusquely inconsiderate about it, please.
IT'S WHAT VOCAB WE HAVE FOR THIS KIND OF INTENSE PAIN. i'm sorry. i have no other words besides screaming.

Let's continue.

Coconut oil. the NIGHTMARE that is coconut oil. HOW much money was blown on that??
It was the best stim food and it was the SCARIEST one BY FAR, and that is SAYING something.
Our body does NOT like oil, and when you're literally buying PACKS of it because this kind FREEZES and becomes not only biteable and sharp, but chewy if you mix it with protein powder, and your poor malnourished body is craving both those things so it's a recipe for disaster already. We… I don't even remember. Literally NO ONE we can find even remembers, nothing beyond one snapshot of lying on the bathroom floor with that unmistakable special nauseating agony that comes from eating too much oil, literally begging God to not let them die, screaming in rage and determination that they'd NEVER do this again, someone (a Protector, Wreckage maybe, the Destroyer maybe, Laurie maybe) going outside in the 10pm dark and rain and throwing all of that garbage into the woods where it couldn't be salvaged (although we all knew someone would try).

…OV just came over and kissed us and someone actually wanted to give him a double flipoff in response. Not out of hatred, just out of "what the heck do you want us to do. We're tired and angry and can't do a SINGLE THING without your permission because we DON'T KNOW what we actually want and don't trust ourselves TO know right now. But we're overstimulated and overwhelmed and heartbroken and furiously distraught and you're kissing us like we're supposed to ignore all this agony and kiss you back. And God knows we WANT to. That's the problem. We WANT to, but then you'll call it self-sacrifice, and what the heck do we do??? We love you, we WANT to be with you, but our body wants something else and until we figure out what the heck it is, we CAN'T be with you because we won't be able to pay attention To you past this screaming discomfort and unsoothed pain. We don't know what the heck to do, and we hate that we have to snub and ignore you in the process of finding out simply because our brain cannot handle the stress of having to factor in another human being's presence and needs into our decisions and thoughts right now. We can't freaking multitask. Please don't force us to context shift so shockingly suddenly or we Will hit you, or bite you, like the monster and rabid dog we are at the moment. But we won't mean it, and we hope you know it, but we still can't take that risk of hurting you, so we completely shut down. We do nothing, we say nothing, we boil over like a kettle fit to explode, and we just want to get this problem figured out so we can safely let this scalding steam out so you can touch us without getting burned. That's all."

…

Do we eat? Do we drink?
This body has to use the bathroom. These clothes are too warm and soft and do you know what that's overstimulating? Because they make us WANT to sit and rest and relax and we CAN'T.
Iscah LOVES these clothes because that's ALL SHE DID. She rested, and relaxed, and took care of our body. When we wear these clothes, the body remembers that, and wants it just as badly. But in this context, no. No, here we're too afraid of ignoring people, of rejecting them, of the fact that OV just went and lay down on the freaking bed because he probably thinks we hate him when really WE JUST WANT TO DO THAT SAME BLOODY THING BUT WE WON'T BECAUSE WE LOVE YOU TOO MUCH TO LEAVE YOU.

what do we do. god. I don't know.

Is our body hungry?
It's thirsty. We haven't drank in over 3 hours and someone purged most of breakfast out of sheer dissociative panicked guilt, so that's even worse. Go use the bathroom, get a drink, then figure out what to do.
We can't eat without OV anyway, and he's hiding away from us. Did we hurt him?
…I don't know. I don't even know. I just hope he's okay. If he didn't, and he wanted to be alone, but was happy, would that be okay with you?
Of course it would be, but he's obviously not happy right now and that's the problem.
…Oh. Should we go talk to him, or…?
Maybe. I don't know. Maybe.
I think we should. Apologize for not being able to respond earlier, apologize for snubbing him on purpose because we were unable to respond in honesty to him.
All or nothing, huh.
Yeah. A curse and a blessing.
Are we done with this file for now, for the record?
Maybe? I think so. The big unanswered question is still: how do we eat food without turning it into a dissociatively abusive stim?
Eat it like we do in the mornings with him. Paying attention, letting everyone share it, not being stressed the heck out in the process. Stimming beforehand, even. Really, that's probably the smartest thing to do. Gotta find what works on short notice that won't hurt us or magnify negative emotions and do that.
Sounds good.
Body does need some self-care, though, so let's call it quits for now. Everyone good? Anyone got any last thing to say before we stop?
Just that Wegmans was a living hell, too, and we never want to go back there.
Then get over that place and every other place in our memory, kid. Forget them. Live here and now, and please, learn from that experience and stop thinking about it. Okay?
…Okay.
Just… let it go. Walk into memory and burn it to the ground if you have to. Whatever works. Just don't let it suck the joy out of our present life anymore. All right? We'll help you. We're safe now, all things considered. Just confused and hurting is all. But we're safe.
I know.
Then let's go talk to OV. He's the reason we can say that, after all.
We love him, even now. Does he know that?
That's what we're going to go make sure of, kid. Give me a minute.

Oh, wait!! One last vitally important thing.
The key to a successful stim is that it HAS to let our BRAIN shut down. Low-impact, low-speed, "mindless" activity so that we can DEEPLY relax, INSIDE. Books don't work, nor does TV, because they're too mentally stimulating. Food prep is too, actually-- that's why we keep hurting ourselves when we try! Same with the garage job. We try to dissociate with repetitive motion and forget that those motions have an end, both in result and process. That doesn't work for stimming!! However, THIS DOES. Weirdly, this typing REALLY helps, at least, in a different way-- it helps us untangle what hurts, and really See it. It doesn't alleviate the stress, just lets us know what we're looking at. What DOES help in a pinch is TUMBLR, on the phone, IF we do it safely. Yes, it Does work!! Because it's "mindless browsing" and you can link-hop FOREVER and find poetry and pretty pictures and just let our mind wander for HOURS if you have to. Spotify is almost this kind of stim but not really, because music demands Attention, but we can use that to a BETTER advantage because it draws us into our mind ENTIRELY. THAT'S an ideal stim, hence the old beloved walks in circles for hours, just imagining and thinking. My thing!! We've gotta find a way to do that again if we can. Maybe in the playroom, who knows. But we will. Anyway, yeah. When in doubt, grab Nelumbo, our beloved Samsung Galaxy S8 who we saved up for a year for and now had better use to show respect and gratitude for that!! Okay? We've got this. Now go tell the Arrows that we love them because they need us just as much as we need them even if they need space too!! Bye guys!!

-J.W.L. and the Lightraye aka Lotus Cathedral System ♥

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.

I either need a huge-ass punching bag, or access to a local fight club.

There is so much pent-up despairing rage in me, it’s scary. It’s maddening. This is like when I was on antipsychotics at the hospital, I wanted to tear everyone’s throat out. Now I just want to punch things until my knuckles break and everything feels like fire, because nothing else is getting rid of this hellish sensory overload and I cannot take it.

I’m not allowed to express sadness or anger in this house, otherwise the family pulls their emotional manipulation/ guilt trip shit on me. The mother just did that now, I said I was depressed and she started ranting about “this is why I hate coming home! I just trigger everybody! You just see me as a trigger!!” and slammed the door in my face before going to argue with someone else about me behind my back.
This is every single day and I just want to fight something or have someone fight me and I can’t get that anymore, I miss being a kid because back then people would at least HIT me and I’d FEEL BETTER.

This is disgusting. I’m sorry.

I’m in a very scary place in my life, I’ve turned into a puppet for everyone else, I can’t remember who “I” am. I don’t want to be who I am currently, I’m terrified, how do I stop this?

There is so much seething hatred in me, this drive to just annihilate myself completely, this blind rabid desire to be immolated because maybe then I’ll become something good, something pure again.
I can’t look in mirrors anymore. I can’t. I can’t deal with this.

If I’m covered in bruises tomorrow it’s for the best.

I just realized that maybe calling ourself an "irredeemable slut" every time we screw up maybe isn't helping our mental state?

I know DNA can be reprogrammed and things all respond to vibrations and that's why words and music are important, so are intentions.
So, by that extension, feeling extreme loathing hatred and spitting the words like "harlot" "slut" "whore" etc. at our body while ripping it to shreds really isn't helping.

But it's hard. That's the ironic thing. You do one thing wrong, no matter how confused you were at the time, even if you didn't understand the situation, even if they lied to you… well, you screwed up, and you only got one chance. Now, you're ruined FOREVER, now you're branded as a slut by God himself, now that's all you'll ever be good for. You're impure for eternity now, you're a disgrace to God's creation, you're a filthy harlot and you deserve to die.
See what I mean?
This gets repeated, over and over, day after day, hour after hour, because part of us is CONVINCED IT'S TRUE and therefore we DON'T DESERVE ANY BETTER.
which is false
I hope.
but I cannot say that without cringing in total fear of damnation because, saying "I deserve better" is being proud and demanding and egotistical as the devil. "look at me! look at how great and holy and pure I am! I deserve SO much better!!" meanwhile I am covered in filth and my heart is black as pitch and I am a whore, a harlot, an irredeemable sinner
I don't deserve shit.
or do I
I don't know
maybe the "i" saying all this shit really is irredeemable but the rest of us aren't
that's the problem with d.i.d., the "main fronters" aren't always good, it all depends on the context of the environment. currently we are in a bad environment therefore the people who are out the most are not good people.
so yes. there are many, many other "I"s in the System who DO deserve better, who do NOT deserve any of this shit, who ARE pure and good and kind and wonderful people. none of them are whores. none of them are fornicators or adulterers or abusers or manipulators. BUT they are all inside which is "fake" according to the outside people, which also kind of quietly proves that those outside people are WRONG WRONG WRONG.
because if you say everything inside is "fake" and everything outside is not, then you are already completely wrong. then you are already saying that everything like thoughts and emotions and dreams and things aren't real. which these people believe. but they are wrong.
it makes us sick, that's what the job felt like, don't cry, it's okay, we're not there now

Meanwhile we're depressed as all hell and we aren't getting any work done.
We WANT to. We really do. But when you feel this filthy, you don't DARE touch anything pure or good, because you will corrupt it. Hence all the Leaguework being on temporary "hold" again. How did this happen?
We were working so hard on Parnassus the other week… I think I know now. Yes. DEFINITELY. Someone was "trying too hard" (which is STUPID) to make the story "acceptable by everyone else's standards" or whatever, which basically means "I can't use my imagination! I can't be creative and invent things! That's politically incorrect somehow! I MUST model EVERYTHING after OTHER people's things because THEY are right and I am not. Therefore I cannot be imaginative or creative anymore, I must just present their story again in different packaging or else I am WRONG."
THAT IS BULLSHIT AND YOU KNOW IT!!!!!!S TOP!!!!

so someone was researching ancient greece and their religion and stuff and it got REALLY DEPRESSING because not only is our tumblr dashboard flooded with hellenistic polytheists somehow, as well as other pagans, and that makes us REALLY uncomfortable because that makes us think THAT is the "one true religion" or whatever the hell therefore we should really unfollow those blogs… no offense to them but it's why we had to unfollow all the hindu and buddhist and catholic and muslim and mormon and kemetic blogs… we were getting so paranoid over "which one is right" that we were getting ill. therefore right now we're swamped with pagan stuff which, although it is interesting, is making us feel forced to copy it. and it doesn't feel right for us. which we feel is blasphemous, or that our heart is flawed and "not ready yet" but one day it WILL be otherwise we are "going to hell" which isn't even part of that religion. but the sentiment is the same. and it was in all the other religions too. you get the picture.
so researching that same religion for greece and feeling like we HAD to be utterly 100% accurate with presenting it although we didn't subscribe to it AND it had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY… that was making us sick sick sick. very sick. plus, stumbling across articles for that research made us think "this is a sign! I HAVE to become a hellenistic polytheist now, the gods/goddesses are trying to get my attention and if I disobey they will punish me!!"
old shit, old shit.
that's why, quite frankly, we are trying to stay FAR FAR FAR AWAY from any belief system that believes in "gods" or other supernatural imposing forces. because they are power-holders. they order you around, they tell you "do this," "do that," "don't do this or I'll kill you," etc. the floating voices basically. and we are already so sick of having to light candles and kneel in front of statues and chant fervently for hours while harming ourselves for punishment and IT ALL FELT SO WRONG FOR US did that mean we were a sinner? does that mean we were bad
then it loops again. more blood, more praying, more blind obedience, more bullshit
except if we say that are we going to hell
good lord how young are you people saying these things, how in the WORLD did we not start healing this topic sooner, where the hell was it buried???

but yeah. parnassus. SHOULD NOT BE "MIRRORING" ANY DAMN MYTHOLOGY AT ALL
just because delphi was named that, the only reason WHY was because the "know thyself" phrase tied to Genesis was tied to the Delphic Oracle and so he got that name, BUT then it ended up being frighteningly, extensively symbolically relevant AND SO we got paranoid and perfectionistic, and started looking for "ways the REST of Greece's entire history applied to the story" and now we're losing sight of what the actual story IS. it's sick and it's sad.
this is why SO many of the leagueworlds are on hold.
EVERY time we do "research," it CORRUPTS EVERYTHING.

and it's ironic, it's so damn ironic
"mage angels" was allegedly paralleling the book of revelation, in the bible, right? and why was that? because of the "four horsemen" thing. which only applied halfway, and only because it was an apocalyptic storyline. but GUESS WHAT? maybe on purpose, but after "finding that out" we NEVER REREAD THAT BOOK. which was GREAT, because guess what? THE STORY KEPT GROWING. and it is growing fantastically well. EXCEPT NOW, all those sjws on tumblr are saying "CULTURAL APPROPRIATION" and making us copy EVEN MORE THINGS that aren't even relevant to the freaking plot, spending HOURS of research until we're tired and frustrated and depressed trying to understand the WHOLE WORLD so we can regurgitate it as a book that THEY will be happy with.
well guess what. i've had it with this. i'm done. hit me if that's insolent, go ahead. bloody me up. I'm going to risk being disobedient because right now I'm miserable and I CAN'T SEE THE STORY ANYMORE. you're putting a big damn cloud in front of it with all your demands and our stories were BETTER when we were a child and DIDN'T CARE ABOUT APPEASING YOU.
this is why so many of us hate audiences

speaking of audiences and how horrible that is.
yesterday was VERY VERY ROUGH and scary too. moreso than any day in a VERY LONG TIME.
we were trying to explain the religious terror to the grandmother and we forget what was said except for one line that was suddenly shouted
"you're wasting your talents! so you're wasting your life! THAT is a sin towards god!"
we were crushed by paralyzing terror, was that true, were we really squandering everything, we asked her "what do we do"
"play more piano!"
and then the rage came up.
we used to play piano, yeah. we used to enjoy it. but THEN everyone made it about PERFORMANCE. then it was about "I'm being graded/ judged for this. I have to do it EXACTLY as they say." the SAME DAMN THING THEY TOLD US WITH ART.
and the terrible thing is, we still WANT to play. we still WANT to make our grandmother happy by playing the songs she likes. but. but. the problem is that once we start playing the piano, people start standing around and watching over our shoulders. and maybe they aren't judging us. but we go into performance mode anyway.
for us, art is intensely private, this creative thing. we play with art. ideally we sit at the piano and just… talk to it. wonder over the keys. try some sheet music. make something. it's private. and you cannot do that with a goddamned audience.
so we ended up crying. someone did. they sat down at the piano and just sobbed through bloody angry teeth, they WANTED to be good, they WANTED to obey and perform for her, to be a good kid, to make her happy… but it felt so fake now. they would have to put on the fake twisted smile just in order to perform now. and we USED to be able to do that. ALL the time. that's how we got through the job. we used to be able to annihilate all our feelings, and just let jennifer come out, with her stupid paper smile, and do everything just like a good happy puppet should. but it's been so difficult to kill our emotions lately and that's scary, why can't we shut it off anymore, why can't we shut it down,

we're finding loopholes for the Leagueworlds to keep them safe from outside demands and projections.
any series that was originally on "a parallel earth" is now on its OWN planet however similar, it is NOT a copy of this one we're in physically. ideally. that could make things tougher but we're going to try it. it's ALREADY canon in mage angels, but I don't know about the other ones? we'll see.

I don't know what I was talking about.

audiences. you know that's where HALF the hackers come from.
so many of them ONLY exist because we introjected those messages, that crushing terrifying pressure to "perform," to "be" a certain way or else.
it's the worst thing about hackers. they're alters too. which means at some point the brain decided their existence was necessary, for good or evil. that's the catch. you end up in a toxic environment that demands you become toxic to survive, well a desperate dissociative traumatized brain isn't going to judge. it just doesn't want to die. so it will break, into something toxic. it's utter horrible bullshit but it happened. it happened and I want to die

we can't seem to stop spitting that horrible language
well "we" is used loosely
we can't "forgive ourselves" for the things we allowed to happen to us, or the things that the hackers alters did to us, or the things that we did out of desperate confusion and fear, "I'm just trying to do the right thing," our path to hell is plated in 24-karat gold but it's still leading to hell you brainless idiot
you can pretty this shit up all you want it's STILL GOING TO KILL YOU

we need to get off the internet. we really do. it's too late now, the damage is largely done, but we can at least STOP it from getting worse if we go away.
problem is it's a coping mechanism sometimes. the online thing. we didn't realize until we started checking archives, the only reason we probably survived high school is becausue whoever was fronting spent most of their time online. they really did. so they did not HAVE to face ANYTHING going on inside, at least not until 2008 or so, when everything shattered and they could not be willfully ignorant anymore.
which is out problem now. we're running because we're scared. but running makes things worse. fight suffering, and the fighting just adds to the suffering.
problem is we're still stuck in that dumb dichotomistic mindset that says "either you reject it, or you embrace it!" meaning that you can either not face the trauma and pretend nothing ever happened and smile like a happy kid, OR you can be totally happy with the fact that it happened and even promote it happening again. IT'S BULLSHIT WHY DON'T WE HAVE ANOTHER OPTION WE DON'T WANT THIS

the option we want: have the luxury of BEING afraid and scared and hurt SO IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN, but then SOMEHOW STOP BEING SCARED and annihilate the past so we NEVER FEEL IT AGAIN but how do you do that
sorry this entry is a mess I'm just going to close it up I don't even know what I'm saying anymore

(completely uncensored. it would lose all its honesty otherwise.)

I am so disgusted right now by both the world, and by myself

1. there is so much fcking horrid stuff going on out there, and
2. part of me hates people for doing those things.

I abused myself so much today already I am so sorry.
I keep detaching from this body, and then when it gets all mucked up and awful I'm still detached somewhat. numb. not even comprehending why I SHOULD care. it's sad

these is so much toxicity out there and it's getting into me and I'm scared of it

there's a seething hatred towards men that was never there before
not just men, masculinity in general
which includes me
which is making me hate myself for being transgender
which is making me hurt myself more
which is making me suicidal because I am now stuck between TWO "evils"
either look/feel like my rapists, or look/feel like their rapists
I fcking hate this world
I fcking hate this
"rapist" shouldn't even be a fcking word
no one should do that ever ever ever

but this poison is in my/our brain now and it's making me paranoid and I don't know what to do

it's terrible

I'm not a boy
I'm not a girl
I'm not a man
I'm not a woman

okay?
please
let me be

at this point I really wish I was noncorporeal, like a mist or something
it's unbearable
the hormones are helping with a lot, don't get me wrong, it's great
but THEN here comes this internalized anti-male-everything thought process
even if I'm NOT a guy, "god forbid" I take on ANY characteristics of one
it's making me very very unsure of myself

but I cannot, I cannot live in a female-bodied body
I can't
god help me but I can't, I tried, it was unbearable
still is for the most part.
but I can't, I can't,
please realize females aren't inherently faultless, flawless,
I'm not saying they're bad
I'm just saying that in my life 99% of the people who were abusive towards me were women
the men were harmless by comparison
please
I'm not a woman and I don't want to look/feel like THEM either
there are two sides to this coin

but I still feel like being demi-masculine is evil now.

this is bullshit where did this come from

a lot of it IS internally generated, I've noticed
yes tumblr is toxic as HELL and I want to LEAVE THAT WEBSITE FOREVER
the only reason I haven't is because I have friends on there
I will have to apologize because really, I do not feel safe on that website, at all
I do not like it there
I hope they wouldn't mind if I just quit because god I NEED to, I want to leave so badly
but I keep thinking "stay for the audience" "stay to help and inspire people"
fck this, is this going to be my life forever
self-sacrifice left and right? up and down?
flay yourself bloody because someone else might gain a tiny bit of insight from it?
that's been my life so far, absolutely, I'm sick of it
but that feels "blasphemous" to say
the oldest fear in my head is "you NEED to suffer or you will NEVER be holy enough."
basically,
"you don't deserve heaven unless you've PAID for it"
it's the fear that, just by being born, I inherited an overwhelming debt
and I need to spend my life "suffering" to make up for the intense "bad" I committed by being born, like ruining my mother's life, forcing my family to pay for food and medical care for me, being "abnormal" and therefore inconveniencing and upsetting everyone else, et cetera
whenever something nice happens to me, my instant thought is:
"how do I pay them back for this?" or, "how will I end up paying for this?"
no free lunch, basically
it didn't hit me until yesterday that I might already deserve some nice things?
like, if someone was kind to me, it was because I had already done something to pay that price
that just… blows my mind. I feel that nothing I've done, ever, is "good" let alone "good enough"
someone ELSE has to do good FOR me, and then the "good" I do is BECAUSE I am PAYING SOMEONE BACK.
that's the sad core of this really.
it's that childhood scared belief that I, as I am, am worthless and bad unless I am working in total servitude to another being, without any free will of my own
except that has done nothing but put me through hell so far
the family means well but god they are not always right, they are not always right
sometimes they are downright toxic and I am still struggling to accept that
and then there are these floating voices,
all the messages outside, online and in books,
everything else.
everything that speaks against what my heart is allegedly wanting or saying.
but no, "you can't listen to your own heart, it's corrupt! all the evils of man come from the heart! only god knows what is right. …and I am a mouthpiece for god, therefore you must listen to ME."
also insinuating that "god is not in my heart" which is literally the definition of hell and is THE most existentially terrifying thought ever, ever, ever
but that's the religious paranoia.
"god is out THERE, he is NOT in you, for you are flawed and an unworthy vessel. you must obey everything you are told, NEVER what you think on your own."
bullshit
I mean
please let it be bullshit
I mean
I will still obey, I won't fight or anything
but
if I question things please don’t be so mad at me?
I mean
I want to be able to question things without automatically getting crushed by fear and guilt
its terrible when I realize that,
every time, EVERY TIME, I think "well I'm not sure,"
I AM WRONG.
I AM PROVEN AWFULLY WRONG OVER AND OVER
and so I am taught, BY PROOF, that I REALLY AM INHERENTLY FLAWED
and cannot know what is right on my own

and so I spend 40 minutes staring at the same spot in a grocery aisle because I'm trying to figure out what floating voices to listen to and whether or not they're good or wise or even sensible, and then I second-guess myself over and over, and then by the time I get home I am so sick and guilty and tired and angry that I abuse myself and destroy whatever I bought because fck you, fck you I am tired of this, I am tired of being a puppet, I am tired

then they have the nerve to suggest that I'm "not psychotic"
do you have any fcking idea
listen I am trying desperately to put a name to this condition I'm in and that MATCHES
they've been putting us on antipsychotic pills for years anyway
but if that label fits, then hey, maybe NOW we can GET ACTUAL RELEVANT HELP
then again maybe it's just me
partly?
the stuff they label as "hallucinations" and "delusions" are TYPICAL in the body no matter what, ask any social fronter ever.
and hell they cause us a LOT of distress we just don't ever talk about them because we're paranoid or don't want people to know. if they know they could make it worse, after all.
but yeah maybe I'm the worst
maybe it's just because of the d.i.d. that they won't diagnose us with the other things we match symptoms for

but really I don't want to be fcking "mentally ill" I don't want a laundry list of diagnoses and pills to match
I want to be able to say, "here are the terms to describe what we are currently going through,"
but damn it THEY WILL NOT STOP ME
I AM NOT A VICTIM HERE
if a symptom pisses me off I will try to heal it, or at least we all will
but a lot of the "symptoms" for these things AREN'T "symptoms" in an illness sense?
a lot of the "symptoms" are part of WHO WE ARE
and that's the problem
you walk into an office and they're like "tell me what’s bothering you"
and typically the answer is,
"nothing we're totally fine"
because damn it lady we're not going to tell you about what else we see/feel in the room,
or about what happened in headspace last night,
or about this frustrating society shit we're dealing with,
or the suicidal thoughts or the depression or the panic or the paranoia,
we're not going to tell you ANYTHING about the religious mission because YOU'LL probably try to tell us it's "delusional" too.
and really don't forget about the ~apathy~ that you TAUGHT us to feel because
"you're not supposed to have problems!"
or, as they would say,
"oh, don't be like that!" "don't be so silly!" "grow up!" "man up!" "this is why I hate being in this house!" "it's all in your head!" "just don't pay attention to it and it'll go away!" ET CETERA.
in other words,
"you're not acting "normal" and that makes me uncomfortable so please force yourself to act "normal" thanks."
which is kind of sad, what is it about "abnormality" that frightens these people so much?
is it because they have things like this lurking beneath the surface that they don't want to accept or look at?
like some things, they can be so scary you don't want to acknowledge they exist. I know, that happens.
maybe that's why "abnormal" people scare "normal" people. because deep down I don't think anyone is ever really "normal" in that sense.
anyway

secretly we want to be the super-vanilla happy springtime white linen dresses pure happy kid
like the poster child for a healthy normal well-adjusted childhood
you know what I mean.
we WANT to be so utterly guileless, so totally flawless and innocent and untouched, and naïve even,
we WANT to be that pure and virginal. totally. absolutely.
but
people laugh at that?
people condemn that, actually
"it's so shallow"
"it's so fake and boring"
you know what I don't give a shit
or at least part of me doesn't
part of me doesn't care how "dull" it may be to you, we WANT to be that innocent again,
you don't appreciate what you had until it's gone

that's another thing that fcking sucks about adulthood and misogyny and shit
women are infantilized,
which is really fcking annoying and REALLY fcking disturbing,
women like that terrify us absolutely,
but also
children are sexualized.
read that again
children are sexualized.
do you see the problem
the double problem here
we identify more as a child than anything, when it comes down to it
there are a lot of kids in this system
and guess what,
they're the traumatized ones.
how fcked up is that.
how fcking fcked up is that
it breaks my heart

and now, now in our adulthood, now we're getting a taste of BOTH poisons because like I said,
you start presenting as a man and you get the backlash of this shit
of all the hurt ones screaming out in the primal way, the only way they know how to at first,
"destroy what destroyed me"
we know the feeling, it's what made us misogynistic in the first place
and we are so so so sorry
so maybe this is karma
but we're learning and we want to heal this in ourselves too.

so we're still hating ourselves for being transgender, isn't that awful

but that isn't even the worst part
remember we are still genderqueer as a whole
so although we're presenting as masculine
there is still accepted and embraced femininity in here
and this is bad because,
the same fcking society that says "kill all men"
is the same damn society that says "women are objects"
just different sides, same shit
oh yeah, and also
BOTH men and women are reduced to sexual caricatures
EVERYONE is expected to be sleeping with someone
even if you're not straight or cisgendered
I was never objectified as much as I was after I tried joining the "gay community"
or the "trans community" too
which is really fcking awful
all anyone did in either of those was talk about sex
like is that all we are? even in our own eyes?
we reduce ourselves to nothing but sexual behaviors?
so then the cishet people portray themselves as the "glorifed normal" in contrast to the "depraved queers"
please forgive my language
but yeah look at the bullshit the cishet people are putting out
all this goddamn porn and abusive relationships and FCKING SEXUALIZING CHILDREN
yeah the non-cishets aren't innocent either but damn it that's not the point right now.
the point is that this society built on the whole straight white cisgender male authority shit is UTTERLY FCKING TERRIBLE and IT NEEDS TO BE FCKING BURNT TO THE GROUND AT THIS POINT
thanks patriarchy you fcking suck

so.
we have got one hell of a task, living in this world
1. heal the misogyny
2. heal the misandry
3. heal the trauma
4. stand strong as ourself
5. don't hate anyone

#5 is so difficult lately and that's scary
is it the depression? I heard misanthropy can be a symptom and that surprised me
but
for us it's religious
damn it everything is religious with us, WHY
oh wait, I know why'
it's because we were raised this way and the environment didn't fcking begin to change until we were about 18, 19 years old
and to top it all off we're also dealing with "mental illness" on top of all that

but
the trauma made it worse
makes it worse
like
where do you draw the line

there are people out there screeching "freedom of speech" and "liberation" and shit
but so much of it is SO WRONG in our eyes at least
just
god what do we do
we are trying so hard to just "live and let live" but
I don't know

this awful hyperreligious mindset makes things so damn difficult
we are legit convinced we are something "chosen"
in whatever sense
but those damn demonic floating voices keep saying "you blasphemer, no you're not, you're shit, you're dirt, you're worthless, god would spit on you, you are worth NOTHING"
and then I think "well you wouldn't be fcking saying that if you weren't trying to STOP me now would you"
to which they start to threaten me and swear at me and all sorts of other scary things
then the fcking physical "hallucinations" happen.
which is "just great" as sarcasm would put it. sarcasm only happens because you're bitter about the truth but don't want to admit the truth because you feel ashamed or doubtful or self-loathing about it.
the truth is, it is NOT great, it is TERRIBLE,
BUT
virtually everyone we've ever admitted that to says "you're fcking crazy"
our grandmother literally told us "you're imagining it all, so don't worry"
here's the thing
imagination is some heavy-duty shit okay, it's terrifying
but imagination is self-generated. it means I CHOSE to think about this thing and pursue it on my own.
even the most terrifying imagined things I CAN turn off. i know. i've done it.
but
this isn't something i chose damn it
this is on the OUTSIDE
all those fcking floating voices are on the OUTSIDE and they are trying to get IN and I WON'T LET THEM
i really wish i could just turn it off, but
i can't
real shit, you can't turn off the real shit
good or bad
cover your ears all you want, they keep shouting
ignore them all you want, they just laugh
it is fcking horrible
the only thing that stops them is headspace
but that's a whole other problem.

people won't stop using the given name
god please that hurts so much too
is that selfish? demanding? childish?

the impulses are upsetting too, especially when laced with this apathy
it's daily now
I mean I can easily not act on them, I recognize them as impulses, but they are tied to powerful gut reactions and that's why they're scary.
violet impulses are common. I keep wanting to break things, throw things, bite things and shred them, attack people, hurt people. but I don't. I don't because I realize there is just this awful ACHE in me that wants to come out in screaming sobs because it's in DESPAIR but no one gives a shit. and I don't know how to cope and I WANT to cope. but that's where the violence comes from, it's boil-over
the suicidal impulses are tougher.
I keep having to put down knives, put down razors. (god help me that hurts my heart so bad)
I keep catching myself(?) with pill bottles. sometimes methodically just eating them like candy. but then mr. sandman or someone will shout at us to spit it out, and they are so LOUD that I(?) do. just dullness, no emotion. problem is then ten minutes later it'll happen again. over and over
that's making the eating disorder worse too. someone found out exactly what foods make us the sickest, and they are eating them. on purpose. to make us sick.
the WORST part? it's mainly "punishment" for "getting sick in the first place"
how's that for ableism
"what's that? you're lactose intolerant? you get sick from peanuts and sunflowers and coconut? you can't eat corn or gluten or meat without excruciating pain and meltdowns? you can't even eat fruit without being bedridden for the next two hours? well tough shit sweetheart! :) you HAVE to eat those foods to be a good, normal human being!! :) it's ok sweety just keep eating them a little each day and then you'll be okay again~"
and that hurts
that HURTS because we BELIEVE them these people are so NICE and yet
and yet
they're
not always right?
or are they, maybe they are, and we're just being fcking disobedient little shits
somehow
so we force ourself to eat these things because "we want to get better" BUT it's NOT WORKING
all this "exposure therapy" is NOT FCKING WORKING

it was the same thing with the sexuality, okay
god damn you, it didn't work, okay
okay????
I want to scream and sob, there's where the violent impulses are coming from, hello overwhelming urge to bloody my knuckles on this wall
god
it didn’t work okay
yeah, it sure as hell planted the seeds of misanthropic apathy. but that's about it.
you exposed us to SO MUCH SHIT that now,
NOW,
WE CAN ENDURE THAT SHIT AND NOT CARE.
THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED RIGHT
THAT'S "NORMAL" AND "GOOD" RIGHT????
TO JUST "TAKE IT" OR WHATEVER THE FCK YOU WANT US TO DO

be a "good little christian girl" and get married
to some who-the-fck-is-this tall white brown-haired smiling stranger boy man
that the fcking media keeps shoving in our faces
they ALL LOOK THE SAME
but we have to "be good"
society says that sort of aesthetic criteria lineup is "cute" or "hot" or "attractive"
so register it as such damn you
and you had BETTER be attracted to them damn you
otherwise you are FLAWED and SOMETHING IS "WRONG WITH YOU"
go marry that stubble-faced smiling suited stranger like a good girl
and fck them until you have four or five babies
and then be a woman
and a wife
for the rest of your fcking life
now you are a housewife sex object with no autonomy
and this is the shit SO MANY WOMEN are going through it's SHIT

problem is,
we're not a woman,
but we're not a man either,
and either way,
we don't WANT to get married,
we don't WANT to have kids,
we DON'T WANT TO HAVE SEX,
we DON'T WANT ANY OF THAT

but they say "no you have to"

misogyny breeds misandry
there are both men and women with ugly, ugly personalities
I don't want to think of either gender as being defined by that
but
this culture is making it really hard to even comprehend the concept of binary gender OUTSIDE of that skewed disaster
like, you have to completely abandon the whole "cishet only" thing JUST to be able to see people as basic human beings at this point
which sounds kind of "special snowflakey" but really, look at our fcking culture
we have ingrained this disgusting false image of "what it means to be a man" and "what it means to be a woman" so much, so repeatedly, that I think we need to totally abandon that whole mindset first
it's not just about biology or reproduction, shit why is that the focus all the time
there's so much more to it than that, and THAT is what we need to start looking at, the NON-SEXUAL stuff, people are more than that, humans are more than their anatomy
I mean seriously look at religion, male/female is all about creation characteristics, reproduction is just one tiny bit on the whole list, why the hell don't we look at it THAT way,
I guess I'm just trying to say I want humanity to look as itself as transcendent more often,
stop defining male and female in terms of negative qualities and sexual behavior
why am I even talking about this I don't understand this topic at all
it's making me sick
I'm just sick of not being able to go anywhere without getting an eyeful of that construction
I'm so tired of the outside world
all the stuff out there, it hurts.

I have karissa following me. with her saw.
the fcking floating demons keep trying to touch me
god damn it I DON'T WANT THEM TOUCHING ME
so she's patrolling the room
she can ghost to do that which is important
a lot of the dangerous people are on the OUTSIDE
so laurie can't really attack them.
but karissa can.
I'll see if there are other people like her around

see, there,
that's it,
this,
as soon as I start talking about them this LIGHT goes on and a weight is lifted
my chest feels lighter and my head feels clearer
see, you doubters, this is REAL
this is real and it is GOOD

I don't want sex
how many times this week have I been saying that
goddamn full moon in scorpio I guess, that's what someone told me
scorpio's our lilith thing on the natal chart so hey.
biggest burden to bear for humanity. biggest lesson to transmute.
well we're willing to do it but damn it it's SCARY on days like this because,
we're asexual and nonbinary and aromantic and this is totally alien
and also trauma history.
but I guess that's part of it.
anyway the damn floating voices keep trying to touch me
and I don't want it
but they keep forcing it
but I DON'T WANT IT

I can stop them now. I can stop them now. it's liberating.
they try to get us in the mornings like they used to but I can STOP them now
chaos is pissed off at them and he won't let them anywhere near us
genesis is learning to differentiate but he's got massive trauma history too
so he and I are dealing with the same weird confusion.
when you've been "used" sexually for so long,
when you've been told so much that sex is "all you're good for,"
or worse,
"all you're meant for,"
then even if you don't want it and/or are terrified of it,
you keep getting trapped in those situations because your subconscious keeps hysterically saying,
"this is all we're worth, we don't have another choice, this is what we have to do for other people"
it hurts.
I don't want this.
no one wants this

but of course there's the other issues like,
we want to cry
we want to be able to FEEL pain
we want to be able to FIGHT BACK
we want to be able to CARE ABOUT OUR OWN HEALTH AND SAFETY
and stop thinking of all of that in black and white
like,
"well you don't crash your car on purpose, so you obviously DO care! therefore don't make any fcking excuses, you're not fighting back because you secretly WANT it (the abuse which they consider "normal")."
fck you
do you have any idea how often during driving we literally, literally,
close our eyes for extended periods because if we crash then hey fcking fantastic it's over
have to stop ourselves from just letting the car drift into traffic or off a non-guarded cliff
do you not fcking realize
apathy is more dangerous than rage
plague is more dangerous than tar
it's the slow suicide that will kill you sooner, ironically.
people see the pill bottles go down. people see the bloody weapons. people see the nooses, the rifles, the car engines on idle. people see you walking to the top stories of buildings, of bridges.
the fast suicides are seen and reacted to with anger, shame, accusation, et cetera. they will catch you and they will do everything they can to villainize you for it, and make sure you never ever attempt it again.
but.
but.
and here's the awful thing.
if you learn to do it slow, they won't care anymore.
no one will stop you.
sometimes they will even help you. or praise you.
they probably won't even believe you if you told them
they'd scoff or laugh it off or chide you like an insolent baby
but they won't do shit to stop it.
and that's the horrible, horrible loophole
that if you really do want to die, you can die a little each day
and then one day it'll catch up to you
they don't see it until it's too late and you're gone
they don't see the tiny scars adding up, they don't see the little poisons slipped into your food, they don't see the sleep deprivation, they don't see the forced psychological trauma, they don't see you wandering too close to the edges of things, they don't see how carelessly you drive, they don't see you taking one too many pills too often, they don't see you slowly fading away at the edges until

one day the grim reaper is gonna show up
but I've met him, I've met him,
and it's breaking my heart because he doesn’t like seeing people go out like this
and I've asked him to take me before but he said "no"
and I WANT to live,
damn it I WANT to live, so badly, god I want to LIVE

but.
but this is a tough world to live in and sometimes I doubt my ability to survive it safely

so I guess I do care about my well-being
in a larger sense
therefore
if this world is sabotaging my spirit sometimes I think it'd be the wiser option to just up and leave it

where did I even start with all this
this is one hell of a brainspill entry I am sorry this is a mess
I don't even know who I am, sorry therapist,
I'm old like I'm tied to fluorescent bathroom lights and old knives.
like 2008-2009 I guess
but anyway I'm old.

it fcking sucks to not even know your own name but that's typical on the outside
maybe on the inside I'd know who I am but translation is always weird
people always seem to "lose" some of themselves on the outside because
1. it's in a body and that's disorienting enough sometimes and
2. there are evil socials in this body that don't want us fronting and will sabotage us, and
3. floating goddamned voices
4. nobody outside believing I exist
5. not being able to be "my own person" and "in the body" at the same time

did you know, gaining a self-identity means you cannot be out in public
why the fck is that how this system works
the moment you gain a sense of integrity and individuality, guess what you're out of fronting
this is why we want to meditate ALL THE TIME
because we EXIST when we AREN'T OUTSIDE
but you can't meditate for 8-9 hours a day, can you?
not here at least
but we "can't join a monastery" or other thing like that, because we have "other things to do?"
then I realize they probably wouldn't even let us be a priest because we're not biologically male,
and we're
we're really not cut out to speak for a dogmatic religion.
we don't believe a lot of what our "birth church" believes and that's kind of sad because we love the church, we love the whole christianity thing, but we don't feel welcome there anymore? for the most part? because of what other people in it believe
closed-minded sad stuff
"gays and trannies are evil" is a big one
but try discussing mental illness in a church group
hoo boy
not gonna happen
immediately you're being possessed by satan or something
to which I wanna say
have you ever seen the painting, "the temptation of saint anthony"
like specifically the ones by michelangelo and salvador dali
because that is our fcking life
since we were a child
we will punch those fcking devils in the face
or at least I will.
but yeah bottom line is I'm not the first person to be trying to live the best for god who is being tormented here
and those damn demons keep screeching, "you're a blasphemer, you're a fcking heathen, your pride will damn you to hell," etc.
that's the scary part
the pride
is that the right word for this?

I didn't understand the religious concept of "pride" until lately
and it scares me because it's not really pride in the way we think of it
it's not a "look at me, I'm so great!" thing
it's not in-your-face at all
it's very very subtle.
it's
seeing things going on outside, frightening things, confusing things,
things that I feel are WRONG, that are NOT GOOD THINGS,
and instead of just "live and let live," instead of just "letting them walk their own path,"
something in me says
"yeah but there's a fine line between tolerance and immoral allowance, isn't there?"
like if someone was hurting children do you just shrug and say "it's their own path"
fck no you STOP THEM
you CALL THEM OUT and you EDUCATE PEOPLE NOT TO DO THAT
right?
so that's the problem, does that make it pride if I'm so self-doubting I don't fcking know
if I SHOULD just be "tolerant" or if I should be speaking out
this
this is why I keep tiptoeing around that one word that doesn't even fit
but it does in the "dream world" context. we need a different word.
dream world "prophets" are defined by a heart-deep, maddening, undeniable need to act upon and for the veneration of their Virtue, for a purpose, for a cause
it's not always "good" though, for lack of a better term
like sometimes god decides you need some fire and brimstone
at least that's what I was taught as a child
and it's what I've read in so, so many religious texts
that 'god,' or 'goddess,' or several of each,
is both a creator and destroyer
both giving life and taking life
divinity is sublime and it does what it needs to do
the old testament says that all the time

but it's like in mage angels
with monika
maybe it's human weakness or something I don’t know
maybe it's real divine compassion I don’t know
but
if I was ever given that job
if I had to play the judging god,
even if it was a "good" judgment,
something like a white blood cell,
I couldn't do it.
I really don't think I could do it.

but you know what I don't know if "god" can either
not in the way we keep thinking of it
maybe the whole "fire and brimstone" thing really isn't how it goes
remember that one story in the bible, I forget where,
I think it's moses,
genesis 18. sodom.
“If I find fifty righteous people in the city of Sodom, I will spare the whole place for their sake.”
exodus 32 has some of it too, with the golden calf
"Then the Lord relented and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened."
but I'm getting off topic and confused here

the point is I really, really do love humanity
and just like monika
(sorry this is actually a major spoiler)
even if they are being total shitheads
and fcking up everything
and basically just acting in the worst ways a human could act
I couldn't kill them
I couldn't rain hellfire down on their cities
I couldn't destroy them
because I love them
even then
maybe especially then
and I'm just pissed the hell off BECAUSE I love them and because they don't HAVE to be like that
they CAN be brighter, they CAN heal, they CAN change and act wisely and with better judgment,
people ARE good at heart,
I know that and nothing will ever change my mind,

so when I see stuff out there in the world that just feels wrong wrong wrong in my heart,
and people are writing it off as "totally fine" or even "progressive," or "politically correct" or whatever,
I stop and think "that can't be right"
and part of me gets scared and confused that maybe I'm being PROUD or BIGOTED or UNWISE in questioning them,
but another part of me gets furious and angry and livid and wants to fcking cut these people down verbally for suggesting that shit was okay, (that's my main part sadly)
but then the deepest part of me really just wants to know what's REALLY right here.
because we love these people,
and I say "we" with that speaking for the system, like jay wrote before.
written in this heart of ours, written in gold way down is that truth, we really do just love people.

all of us do and damn it it's our greatest weakness and our greatest strength
even me, damn it, even me
that's why we have such trouble
the retributors get it the worst, hence this topic
even the ones like wreckage, they care so much
they are only furious and violent BECAUSE they care so much
and it's why we keep getting lost because no one wants to stoop down to that level
of the ones we're fighting
we don't want to be killers or abusers, we don't even want to be violent anymore
but god comes with a sword and all that
but we don't know what to do
"be soft. don't let the world make you hard. don't let the pain make you hate. don't let the bitterness steal your sweetness. take pride that even if the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place."
and that's forever our mantra and I wrote the whole thing because it's important and it's the most fcking heartbreaking thing we could ever say.
be soft, be soft, be soft, but take no shit,
and don't let them bury their knives and claws in you,
be soft but don't bite back, don't draw blood,
or should we?
I don't know
don't hate, don't be bitter, don't harden up.
but what about, what about,
what about all these people on tumblr who are like "it's free speech to make fun of someone else's religion" and the other side is saying "if you insult my religion I have every right to lash out against you because that's totally irreverent" and the response is "don't force your beliefs on me I am under no obligation to revere what you revere" but then I'm like what the hell, it's called BASIC HUMAN DECENCY, I don't give a shit if you don't share their beliefs, DON'T FCKING INSULT THEM ANYWAY, and on the same page, if you have a religion with beliefs that other people don't agree with, RESPECT THAT TOO, JUST STOP FCKING FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER
maybe "free speech" does cover the "right to make fun of anyone ever" but damn it that doesn't make it the "right" thing to do, just because you CAN do it doesn’t mean you SHOULD.
respect, god why the hell don't we just RESPECT each other, like GENUINE RESPECT, not begrudging tolerance or acceptance or whatever, think about it, if respect was at the roots of BOTH sides of this party, there wouldn't BE any fcking problem because both sides would have taken a good look at their stances and thought "hm, is this mutually beneficial?" and if it's NOT then you FCKING DROP IT.
but that's the problem
that's the problem with pride, whether it's religious or not
you need to LISTEN to the other side and genuinely CONSIDER their viewpoint okay

like back to this misogyny thing
most of that, in my childhood, came from people who GENUINELY BELIEVED that what they were saying was 100% "the right thing to do." religious or not.
"respect me," I say, and their response is usually… "I can't respect something that's WRONG." or, something that's "disrespectful" to THEM. and that's where it gets confusing and I hate thinking about this
let me just
think of a solid example.
um on that same topic,
"please respect my asexuality and wish to remain unmarried." when I was younger, I would ask. the top negative response? "I can't respect something that goes against God's will." because they are CONVINCED that being an allosexual in the bounds of marriage was THE "right thing to do."
you get that a lot more with "queer" stuff
people not giving homo/bi/pan/etc.sexuals and transgender/nonbinary people rights, because "it's not right to BE that way in the first place." so they say "I respect you as a person, therefore I am NOT going to allow you to do something that is disrespectful to GOD." see how it gets tangled
man this whole paragraph is tangled I am so sorry
but in religions you get the whole thing of women being treated in a way that often gives them less autonomy and rights than men, and the response is "well that's GOD'S WILL" so they won't even THINK about how the women feel who are not okay with being treated that way, you see what I mean
but I'm upset about this "free speech" thing
"why should I respect your religion if it teaches THAT?"
still I don't think that's reason to be disrespectful. you can disagree, sure, but for heaven's sakes be civil.
but that sentence. "why should I respect ____ if it teaches/ implies/ supports/ etc. THAT?"
with "that" being something you personally view as totally unacceptable.
and those religions, that's why I wonder, and it hurts my head to do so,
when they talk about "well it's god's will, not mine,"
sometimes it's about things that are really intolerant in a disrespectful way,
but they are so convinced that those things do not DESERVE respect,
being convinced those things are utterly morally wrong,
how do you know?
how do you know
this keeps me up at night

it's kept us up at night since we were kids really

ugh
bottom line is
where does it turn from saying
"what you're doing is morally detrimental and I am speaking out against it"
into being told
"you are violating my rights of free speech and autonomy"
basically,
when does it turn from speaking up for morality, into being obtrusive and intolerant?

that's the problem with being a double libra I guess
I see EVERY freaking side of EVERY ISSUE
and it gets really bloody confusing because I can empathize with EVERYONE
sometimes directly, thanks d.i.d.
(no, literally, thanks)
but then I'm not sure what's… the OPTIMAL thing to do?
I don't know
I want to say "the RIGHT thing" because of this religious bit but, who am I to act like I have all the answers?
it's just
trusting my heart
and not feeling my heart knows best
because I'm afraid of what I've allowed to infect it
like eightfold said,
"I gotta be careful trusting my gut, 'cause my gut is a vast phantasmal library full of dark tomes!… The heart's the same way. It gets dirty. Things you pick up, things you're taught… they stick to it. An' there's no flutter or feelin' that isn't filtered through all that stuff."
that is one of the most important things we have ever, ever read
and it is so true
and it is our biggest fear.

that whole thing
with not knowing when to stand up for what we feel is right or not,
getting confused because our beliefs aren't always "politically correct,"
getting scared because people say our beliefs are "delusional" or "totally detached from reality,"
you know,
"grow up, and get used to the REAL world,"
when the "real world" they say is mean and cruel and bitter and stuff,
that's not the real world.
but
geez I shouldn't be looking at political sjw stuff on tumblr anymore
it hurts and it makes me so so so confused
and then of course you come across the people who are like
"kill all men," "down with cis," "truscum," "if you are ____ you don't deserve to live,"
and then the other side, online and offline,
spitting racism and homophobia and religious mockery and all that,
the exact things that cause the hateful speech of the victimized side.

I fcking HATE the whole victim/oppressor bullshit already. I hate it.
but that's ironic too
hatred and rage will only turn me into an attacker. and I don't want that.
gotta reroute that frustration. realize WHY I'm feeling it.
and that is:
I don't want to see anyone being victimized, or doing any oppression.
I love you people and damn it you've gotta stop treating each other like shit already.

at this point I don't care what justification you're giving
disrespect is disrespect
hatred is hatred
violence is violence, no matter how "passive-aggressive" or "harmlessly" you may act upon it
and those things only breed more of the same.

I have no idea what in the world this entry is about already

there have been like… three different authors in here. and of course the paragraph switching. people starting writing one thing then stopping and then I go back and see all these unfinished sentences and I'm like "dude I have no idea what you were talking about, I can't finish that for you"

this started because… today we're cripplingly depressed
and not sure where to go in life
and scared about this moral doubt
and the floating voices
and feeling forced to do things we don't want to do
and not knowing if our heart is wise or just delusional and foolish

I want to help people.
I want to heal myself
I don't want to be a bad influence on anybody
but I don't want to hurt anyone through my inaction either
am I trying too hard?

it's such a frustrating dilemma
"act or don't act"
when acting is viewed as intrusive and pushy and proud and rude and oppressive
and not acting is viewed as wishy-washy and apathetic and morally weak and lazy.
damned if you do, damned if you don't.

I don't want to think about this anymore. focusing on this is just making life REALLY tough
you get what you give, and we're radiating too much anxiety, it's not cool

I think I'm just going to let jewel or spinzor out and let them type

we have to go to philadelphia on friday and we don't know how we're going to get there and our stomach is just bottoming out with anxiety over it, the quiet kind that only registers in creeping sickness and nausea and sleep disturbances and a rough temper. it's not cool
I'm just going to take a deep breath,
we'll do what we can,
if the father can't drive us down, we'll try to go by ourself,
we're a little scared of asking the grandparents because what if they find out we're transgender,
we'll be out on the street,
they almost found out once and that was scary,
geez no actually cannon remembers that it was MORE than once and it's why we're afraid now,
STOP FOCUSING ON THE NEGATIVE
be smart, but be safe, okay?
do what you can.

that's all we can do for now I guess.

good night everyone.
I hope this entry didn't upset you, or hurt you, or make you sad or anything
geez that is a big fear too we're afraid of posting stuff like this
but honesty is key. that's just it, it happened, up it goes
and you never know. maybe that woman really was right. "the message in the mess." maybe this stuff helps other people somehow, I hope so.
I mean we write it all with the intention to "solve" something, or better-- to heal something. "solving" is too analytical and that's dangerous. healing. we know there are problems and we are trying to untangle them and we are sharing the process, because maybe it'll give someone else insight they didn’t have, on how to untangle their own things.

I hope so.
for now I need to rest, today was rough, we have color stuff to do on the computer, if done right that should calm us down. just nice cataloguing work.

closing up this entry as-is things are too fuzzy good night

I'm kind of freaking out tonight.

I might be starting my first job in FOUR YEARS next week, and I spent most of today having panic attacks and throwing up and sobbing confusedly, it was ridiculous.

I had a massive religious/existential meltdown on Sunday which left me just as sick as I was today; I was crying so hard I was choking. That's typical, what with religious holidays. Divine Mercy Sunday reduces me to a contrite, paranoid, zealous wreck every single year.

I still find myself thinking awful things.
Part of me is still convinced that having a mental illness, or being "neurodivergent" in some way, means I am morally flawed.
I'm ashamed to admit that I've been diagnosed in the past with schizoaffective disorder and that I'm on the autism spectrum. I hate it. I hate being "broken" and screwed up and abnormal and allegedly "unable" to function like a "normal, healthy, good human being."
It's stupid. I'm sorry for using that word but I'm throwing it at myself here. I really do feel as if I am unintelligent in saying these things, unwise and willfully ignorant.
I don't want to be "mentally ill." Not if it makes life this hellish. But I don't want to be "normal" either, not with what they've told me "normal" is.
I want to be able to accept and love who I am without being utterly ashamed, and feeling useless, and being convinced I have no right to survive, or ask for help or accommodations, or to make mistakes, or to be "different."
No wonder my chakra system is messed up. I'm still struggling with the concept that I have a RIGHT to exist. That very thought feels like blasphemy, to this day.
"Someone like you does not deserve to exist," the programming in my brain says. "You're a freak. You're being selfish, and demanding, and inconvenient, and offensive, and lazy. You're not sacrificing enough for God. " et cetera.

Therapy has been making me pay more attention to myself when in "idle mode," so to speak.
I never realized, I stim a lot. I was always ashamed to even consider the possibility, thinking it was attention-seeking, but… it's not. It's a coping mechanism. When therapy gets frightening, when ugly scary memories come up, I find the vision fading out and my hands moving by themselves. And then my brain says, "is that bad?"

I HAVE to hold this new job for AT LEAST a full month so I can pay back all my debts. After that we'll see how we're coping. I need to take this a day at a time.

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

@ 11:33 pm

Please forgive this bitter wordspill but I need to express this somewhere where I’ll be heard. I’m sorry for that but sometimes it helps.

I hate, hate, hate being mentally ill.
I feel like such a freak, like I don’t deserve to exist, or live at all, because I’m a “burden” or I’m “lazy” or “too weird” or something similar.
I hate asking for help or accommodations or similar assistance because I’m mortified. I feel that I’ve “brought this illness upon myself” and therefore it is “emotional manipulation of others” when I ask for “special treatment” for it.
I DON’T WANT TO BE SICK but I don’t know what it’s like to be “normal” either, I don’t think I CAN be normal even if we WERE healthy, and that’s scary too. Does that mean I’m being willfully ignorant? Does that mean I’m rejecting the right choice? What am I supposed to be?

I hate having these damn sensitivities that make it difficult to function.
I hate the manic phases and depressive hells. I hate the massive dissociation and time loss. I HATE the sensory overload, I HATE hearing voices, I HATE this shit, I hate it, I really do, I am so goddamn tired dealing with this all my life, I’m miserable, I try so hard to be happy but the paranoid zealot child in me is convinced that happiness is selfish and sinful, and the bewildered terrified teenager in me is convinced that happiness is the word abusers use to justify their behavior. I want to say it’s all nonsense, but those parts are still so loud yet.
I hate hearing my therapist tell us that we really did experience some screwed up things, and I hate the gut reaction on my part to defend the people who did those things, even when their memory makes me want to vomit from anxiety and shame.
I hate being sick. I hate being in pain. I hate not being able to shut off the sickness or pain because I feel that not being “invincible” means I’m “not a good enough person.” It terrifies me.

I want to be happy for once in my life but the problem is that I feel I don’t DESERVE to be happy, or that the quality/state of life that would be most healthy and beneficial for me is “too weird” or “NOT NORMAL” or otherwise “not allowed,” because I’m SICK IN THE HEAD, and this religious stuff makes it worse, I haven’t found a community anywhere that is willing to help us out with this, all we want is to feel like we’re allowed to live.

I don’t want to hate anything.

I don’t want to hate anything. This isn’t me, I’m a happy kid, I know I am, I’m too damn bright on the inside to handle so much of this.
But parts of us are so bitter and sad and angry because there’s so much guilt yet, so much shame, so much fear, so much regret.
Then the therapist has to keep reminding us that we have a dissociative disorder so of COURSE we never “ran away,” because we SHUT DOWN. We were trying to survive, however unwisely. The price we paid was just too high, too high, too high to bear.

I want to be better. What does it mean to me, to us, to be “better” though? Not what the family says, not what the people outside say. For us, what would be “healthy?”

That’s what I want. Somehow. I still want that. I’m trying.

I’m just very overwhelmed today and I’m kind of scared about some equally overwhelming changes in the immediate future but we’ll manage. We’ll manage.

Therapy on Thursday.

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

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

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

@ 11:55 pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(a warning-- this entry happened during a very bad time and i apologize for any weird or depressing stuff in it)

Nothing scares me more than God.
God sees no difference between what we label 'good' and 'evil.' God would just as soon slit your throat as save your life.
God watched the wars and rapes and said they were His will. Somehow.
God slaughtered men, women, and children in that Holy Book. Why should today be any different?

Demons are ravaging me. I want to kill them, strangle them, tear them to pieces.
The yoga-princess types online say no, no don't do that, surrender and enjoy the moment! "Once you start enjoying pain, things start to get interesting!"
Two words: SCREW THAT.
Cannon did that. Cannon learned how to do that, for years. Guess why we're so broken now?
And you're telling me to lay down my weapons, and bare my neck to the executioner? Say "go ahead, have your way with me," and then smile and enjoy it as they do???
Screw that. I can't enjoy it. Okay? I have tried. Those demons don't leave me the hell alone, they make me feel so sick and tired and disgusting that sometimes I give in just to have peace for the rest of the evening. Peace, pain, blood, regret, and nausea, but peace nonetheless. It's sad.

I can't find headspace. I've been working on the Leagueworlds lately and I fear they've become too corrupted. Sick, but I'm apathetic now. For years I refused to share any of my work because I had seen what "fandoms" did, I knew the torture they could wreak on those who resided in 'fiction,' I knew how horribly they could manipulate the stories I held. I was terrified. But then what would I do? If I couldn't share my work, it would die with me.
So now I'm numb. Now you damned demons have scarred enough of my brain for me to not be able to tell what's true and what's not anymore. Now I suppose I don't care anymore, except I do. Except the thought of someone drawing or writing or thinking such perverted, frightening things about one of the OCs I've come to adore is abominable. I can't allow it. I suppose it's a chance I cannot avoid taking. But I will not allow it.

Go back to hell, you heathen whores. All you false prophets and spiritual guru nutjobs. To hell with you and your ass-up yoga positions and whispery shit mantras and "sexual freedom." To hell with you.
I'm sorry for how ugly this sounds, and for repeating this yet again, but it's not going away.

God wouldn't care. That's what they tell me now.
As a child I was told that God cried, God mourned and sobbed, when his children were butchered by the millions, or when even one of his children was left to die alone. I was told, as a child, that our God was a loving God who saw each and every individual as sacred and lovable and worthy of protection and safety.
But then I was told that some people were going straight to hell, do not pass Go, et cetera. I would wonder: whose children were they, then? God created them, didn't He? So why would He send them to burn forever? I didn't understand, and I still don't.
Now, though, my brain is numb from trying to understand what these new anti-religious people are telling me through their smiles and vegan smoothies. "God is beyond good and evil." And in a way I know that, but it's terrifying still when they can say that while watching the news on television. Arson. Disease. Murder. Rape, the greatest evil. They wave their hands and say, "it's God's will." Or maybe they say, "there's a greater purpose."
In truth we do this to ourselves. We wreak evil all on our own. We put demons in the world, not God. We create hell right on this earth.
But is God watching like the fragments? Is he watching like the splinters? Cold, analytical, impassive?

I want to die but now, they've made me afraid of death. Now, they've convinced me that upon death, some "galactic federation" of aliens will be waiting for me, like a soldier returning from war. They will nod, and give me another mission, or whatever. No heaven, no dreams, no love. Just government and business.
I know it's not like that. It can't be. But that's how they present it, it seems. I don’t know.

I've always dreamed that upon dying, I will go nowhere for a while. I'll go to wherever it is that feels like Infinitii, untouched by the liars and whores. I'll go to the divine blackness, to the compassionate void, to a place where I am faceless and nameless and formless and alive. Forget birth and sex and all that shit. I don't want to be anything but nothing. That's what I've always hoped death is like. Even if I just stay there for a while, and then decide to incarnate somewhere else, that's fine.
I'm just… so scared of what those spiritual people say. You'll die, and then "wake up" in a place where it's just another daily grind. People to interact with, rules to follow, classes to attend, you get the idea. That scares me. I want a break from all that nonsense, please, for the love of anything I don't want to be a slave to another system. Please.
They act like this alien mission in our skies is the "one true reality." Well then, what happens when the aliens die, huh? Or do you claim they are immortal? I hope they aren't. I hope they die, too, so that you can't claim this stupidity anymore. I hope that death is a constant. I hope that transition periods back into blissful nothingness are mandatory. I hope that the concept of identity is just as hollow as I pray it is. Forget "true names" and all that rot. I'm so tired. Forget "twin flames" and all that asinine nonsense. Let me be dust. Let me be starlight. Let me be a mote and a nebula. Forget everything else.

I want to die. I don't know how. I'm scared of what I'll be leaving this life for.
For years, I was terrified that if I killed myself, I'd be "punished" by being forced to reincarnate as a sexual deviant, some sort of prostitute. I'd be stuck in that life, being forced to endure that sort of behavior, unable to escape. I didn't realize until last year how bizarre that belief was-- I always thought I'd reincarnate in someone else's head. Never in my own body, never as my own consciousness, so to speak. Always a carry-on in a different brain. Stuck. Scared.
It's kind of like that now, actually. This body is practically a carbon copy of the mother, right down to the astrology. It's terrifying. I don't remember the childhood, but there's a lingering "all my life" feeling, a fear, that I am not allowed to have my own life-- by divine decree, no less!-- because I HAVE to become the mother. I HAVE to imitate her every action and thought. I don't have a choice, you know, your chart says you're the same as her, so you'd better act like it!!
I'll never forget, the one time I actually called a legit astrologist on the phone. She did it professionally. I spoke to her for a while, gave her my info… she didn't believe I was born in a Taurus body. "You act nothing like a Taurus." And then she laughed. No condemnation, no demanding I adhere. It was one of the most freeing things I'd ever heard. "You act nothing like your mother."

I'm so scared of her, God I don't know WHY, I wish I could just talk to her and talk this out, somehow, but that's not possible. She gets violently angry and offended whenever I so much as suggest that I'm scared of her. "You blame me for everything!" "This is why I never come here!" "You f*cking kids make my life miserable!" And then of course the countless phrases damning me for being a freak/ psycho/ idiot/ failure/ etc.
It doesn't faze me anymore. The only thing that bothers me is the fact that she won't discuss this with me in a sensible fashion. I want to be able to say, effectively, "something about you triggers terror in my psyche, and it's making me act negatively towards you. I don't want to do that. Can we discuss this to try and find the roots of such a fear, because I sincerely don't remember about 70% of this lifetime?" And all I want her to do in return is say "okay, I'll be equally honest with you, and try to help you not be frightened of me anymore." I think. I actually don't know what I'd need her to say. I think I want her to just understand, is all. I want to apologize, profusely, because a lot of the things about her that terrify me, she's not doing on purpose for that reason. Certain bits of her actual personality, things that make her "her," scare me. Things she has no control over, concerning her own appearance or life, scare me. I know she's not doing this stuff on purpose. I don't hate her. She's just… she scares me to death because she looks like everything ugly inside my brain and the world keeps telling me that is my inescapable future. I CANNOT be her, because in order to copy her exactly, I would have to consciously go against my own innate tendencies, my own 'personality.' The world tells me that's not acceptable. The world tells me that I have no "innate tendencies" other than the ones my mother has. You HAVE to like this, you HAVE to do that, because SHE does, and you ARE her.
Why the hell is THIS my biggest fear?? In a joking way it's rather common, the "growing up to become your parent" fear, but this… this feels like disobeying will damn me, cruelly. The forces insisting I become her are not saying that for my own good. They are saying that because "the rules say so," because "this is the way it HAS to be," because I can't be a variable or a glitch or a different program altogether, I HAVE to follow the code. Screw that.

What do I want to be. I don't know. Dead, maybe.
Transitioning is helping. It's making this body look new in some places, something my continually fading memory has no data for, and that's nice. I cannot wait until the face begins to look notably different, probably not until we get some substantial facial hair. But it's such a profound comfort, to be able to look in the mirror and NOT see Sharon, or Jessica, or Jezebel, or Spinny.
Admittedly, currently we see Jayce, and if you'll forgive me he was kind of an ass. He and Pinstripe were not nice people, it's just how they were manifested. That time period was ugly in that sense. But they aren't permanent either, I'm sure.

I'm so tired. I'm so, so, so tired.
I want to go out. I want to go in, but I can't reach anything anymore, and that's the lesser of two evils. I'm so tired of being a person. Headspace fractures me too much. Heartspace is a different thing, it's where Infi lives, it's where the new realms are forming… things are strange. There's a difference. In heartspace I'm formless, I'm a ghost. I prefer that.
I miss being a pure watcher, for the League, but it's been so long… timelines are warped now. The past few years have mangled a lot of my perspective. I'm hoping and praying that I can destroy those timelines, breaking that misery off and letting it fade into oblivion. If I can do that, then by God I will. Let me be the psychopomp I've always sadly wanted to be. Let me break off all the branches that are keeping this tree from growing. Let me slice this timeline back into one pure path, so that space can finally blossom again.
After the Scratch, I wasn't supposed to be a destroyer figure anymore. But we all know what happened that summer.
It keeps looping. Late 2011, Julie switched sides, the Tar appeared, our entire method of functioning changed. Something happened in 2012 that erased most of the year, making time in general feel like shredded tissue paper. The disasters of early 2013 caused a massive implosion, effectively "erasing" a good part of our internal structure, and then Infi was born from the breakage, and the Underground opened up. Then, in the last weeks of 2013 there was another implosion, obliterating almost every foothold we had regained, and leaving us in a mess until now. And it feels like we're on the verge of another meltdown.
I still wonder, every day, if we were ever meant to rebuild at all.

I'm so tired. I do love headspace, I do. Some people are still reachable. Infinitii always is. The Jabberwock has been oddly close lately. For the most part I feel stuck right on the verge of the bodymap, right where the Chthonics are, before things break into the Downstairs/ Social level. I don't like that level, no offense to the people that live there. It just… it makes me want to cry. It feels so agitated and hollow. I don't like it here very much.

Therapy is tomorrow. I don't know what to say.
The body's been sick. Taking small smart steps towards improving that.

Oh, some good news at least. I've been making a lot of progress on Dream World lately, at least as far as cleaning-up goes. It's just a crushing amount of work. I currently have ten files open to compare notes, as well as two folders and several printouts on my desk. It makes me want to cry from frustration, it's overwhelming, I don't know where to start. So I'm just picking little things at random, working on them as much as I can. It's something.
I'm so worried about several characters. They've been so, so hurt by the Tar, by perspective corruption. I need to fix the timeline. All of that is FALSE. I know it is. I can feel how empty it is, how it leads literally nowhere, ending at a brick wall. It's not their life. I need to go back too, though, I think, in order to see things… I don't know. Maybe.
But work is happening.

I just wish the family wasn't so depressing, at least the grandparents. They are so bitter, so cynical, so hateful, it hurts. Yes I love them, yes they're good people, but even good people can be closed-minded and prejudiced and appallingly incapable of empathy. Right?
I don’t want to give any more energy to that topic, like my therapist forces me to do, then I get sick and want to vomit and can't talk anymore. No more. Just putting that out there. The family atmosphere is too depressing and spiteful to really keep up a good mood in easily. I hope that doesn't make me weak.

I want to make a Jigaria plushie but I have the wrong color fabric. Do you know, how important color is?? The slightest wrong shade changes the whole vibe. I think Jigaria's pink color is warmer, not cooler. There's a certain hot-pink shade that keeps getting stuck to her that is not correct, it warps the entire perspective of her. I disliked her for a while, because of that, she felt so shallow and fake. It's so sad, it's heartbreakingly sad, when did I forget who these people were? Did I ever know? Looking back on childhood memories, it shocks me actually, how little I knew… I never drew the main character, she didn't even have a name until last year, and yet I knew exactly who she was as a person… whereas her fellow Guardians, who I drew constantly, I didn't know as people at all.
I still consider it a hidden blessing that all our old art was lost. Yes, I still ache at the loss of the newer work, the heavy-duty development we'd started shortly before losing it all. But, now that the old stuff is gone, I can no longer pretend that's the "end-all." It's gone now. That half-finished work is no longer the final product. Now there is total freedom to rebuild, with true understanding. I hope. Talking like this hurts. It feels fake, like the high school days. Please forgive me. I don't want to become that sort of person again.

My mind is toxic. I know that. It hurts whatever it touches. I want to keep it far, far away from these worlds I was ordained to protect.
There's just so much noise from the outside now, making my vision blurry. I want to take a long time away from the internet, clear my head. There's too much danger there.

It's only 5:30. Dear lord the winter is rough, there's so much dark. I have 5 hours to go.

I need to meditate. The brain is too jumbled from all this stress. I can't do typing work if I can't think straight, although the number of files I am juggling isn't helping either. I should really narrow that down.

Sorry for the messy updates lately. I want to stop for a while but that just pushes me further into depressed oblivion, because when I don't write things down I forget all of it. Then I don’t know where I am or what I'm doing. So even if I do take a massive break from the internet there will likely be updates here every so often, posted from my computer. Just saying.

Good night. I really can't force myself to type anymore.

this is a mindspill.
we're not doing this bad in reality, this is just coming up to be dealt with
this is non-censored stream of consciousness typing
i am sorry if it is raw or brutal or angry that is just how it is

I don't feel anything anymore. Is this normal? Is this "enlightened," to be utterly devoid of feeling?
But that's not true, is it (shut the fck up with the drama). See? (SHUT THE FCK UP)
rage, hatred, self-loathing is present
I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR FCKING MOUTH I WILL KILL YOU
All this condemnation
SHUT UP
Saying I'm a drama queen whore just for talking
BECAUSE YOU'RE BEING SO DAMN DRAMATIC YOU ATTENTION WHORE
I'm just trying to talk.
FCK OFF, BITCH. HUMBLE YOURSELF.

You're not supposed to talk when you're enlightened. You have to lose all sense of self. Speaking is selfish, it shows that you think you are proud and arrogant enough to be some special opinionated thing. Fuck off.

I really don’t want to talk to mel anymore. I feel no ties to them but I feel I have no choice, like I HAVE to cling to them even if it makes me cringe. I never really felt a connection to them as a person. We have nothing in common.
YES YOU DO YOU FCKING PRICK. TALK TO THEM, STOP BEING A SELFISH BITCH.
I would only ever talk to them about our respective headspaces.
BECAUSE YOU'RE AN ENTITLED SELFISH BITCH. SHUT YOUR FCKING MOUTH. LET THEM TALK ABOUT THEMSELF. LISTEN TO THEM. DON'T YOU SAY A FCKING WORD.
Then I'm just a receptacle.
GOOD. BE A RECEPTACLE. FOR ALL THEY PUT IN YOU. TAKE IT.
…I don't want to.
FCK OFF. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY NO. FOLLOW YOUR ORDERS. MEL IS HOLIER THAN YOU. MEL IS BETTER THAN YOU. MEL HAS NO REASON TO THINK OF YOU EVER, SO STOP DEMANDING THAT THEY DO, YOU FCKING JERKASS FCK.
I don't demand anything of them.
THEN WHY DO YOU ALWAYS WANT THEM TO THINK OF YOU, YOU FCKER.
I don't know? I guess I feel that, since I'm "obligated to be at their beck and call," it would be nice to see that reciprocated in a vague acknowledgement of me once in a while.
SELFISH. YOU'RE A SELFISH BITCH. HOW DARE YOU ASK. THE PRAYERS SAY, "GRANT THAT I MAY NEVER SEEK SO MUCH TO BE CONSOLED AS TO CONSOLE." YOU WILL BE COMFORTLESS. YOU WILL GET NOTHING. BUT YOU WILL GIVE EVERYTHING.
Is that good?
IT IS THE BEST THING. YOU MUST EMPTY YOURSELF FOR OTHERS.
Then what do I do when no one else is around?
IMPOSSIBLE. THERE ARE ALWAYS OTHERS. DEDICATE YOUR LIFE TO THEM.
So does this mean I am not allowed to have opinions or personal wants?
NO. NONE OF THEM. YOU EAT WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN, YOU COMPLAIN NOT, YOU ASK NOT. YOU DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD, YOU REBEL NOT, YOU COMPLAIN NOT. YOU DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD. YOU LIVE FOR THE SERVICE OF OTHERS. YOU DO NOTHING OUT OF LINE.

mel took that photo that looks exactly like me and tagged it to their friend instead
"this reminds me of someone else"
and I thought,
"my identity has been erased. my face has now been repainted as another. I am no one now."
mel has slowly taken my "identity" away from me since I left in 2012
they have stolen bits and pieces away, absorbing them into theirself, giving them to others
the things they used to say reminded them of me, now remind them of entirely separate things
and the things that were still of me, they have reassigned
I am powerless to stop it
I am powerless to question it
maybe that's why some part of me hates them
and I can't seem to let go.
there is this awful frantic bitter fear in this fact, that mel is erasing us from existence
since we hinge our existence on their acknowledgement of us
even if we don't know them or want to have anything to do with them anymore as a result
we feel no ties to them and want to leave, but they will not let us
no hard feelings, but is that true if someone tells you that you are having hard feelings anyway?
If I am mentally convinced that you still feel for me the way you did after we left, what do I do?
I never saw a change. You told me I was the opposite of light. You told me I was no longer a sunrise. You told me I had used and abused you. And part of me never let go of that, because it broke when it heard that, and that part of my mind is still stuck in that moment. How do we move on, without moving on from you too?
It's not that we don't want to. It's that we are not allowed to, God knows why.

I guess it's to be expected. Mel doesn't know who we are either. Their timeline didn't freeze when we left.
We're still glitching out somewhere between October 2012 and now. We're not sure what happened with them and their husband and their friends. Our memory is mangled now. But, Mel came walking out of that unseeable space, and now we don't know what to do. We've sworn obedience to them simply because they exist, and they asked us first, and we cannot refuse. But we're tired and sad and frustrated and we just want to cry and pull our hands away, because that is over for us, it never even was in the first place, why are you keeping us there when you have people to replace our shadow? We were nothing but a placeholder, otherwise we would feel differently. Our role in your life is over. I will never see you acknowledge me, or care for me like you care for them, and I do not need you to. Honestly I would feel uncomfortably trapped if you did, because that would again chain me there, and I must move on. But your words have already nailed me to the floor. What do I do?

I will practice. Piece by piece.
I will go on Mel's blog and I will say to myself, "this is a person I am no longer tied to." I will mentally release them, and look at them as if they are a stranger I am just looking at. It doesn't hurt that way.
I will no longer expect, or fear, or seek anything from them. They are separate from me. I am separate from them. They have no ties on me, nor I to them. Our lives are no longer tangled. I am free and so are they and all their friends. I am not part of their world anymore, for I did not belong there to begin with.

And maybe that's why I "hate" headspace.
That is the only thing keeping me stuck to Mel.
Their people knew our people, once. Once. They have no idea who we are now, nor we them.
Mel knows maybe six of us, out of seventy. And… God forgive me if I say this, but talking to them makes me cry. It does. Hot angry tears run down my face and I close my computer, because they never stop asking questions. "I don't understand this." "What do you mean by this?" "Explain this." It's all so goddamned logical and cold and I swear to God I NEVER FELT ANYTHING LIKE WARMTH FROM HER. EVER.
THAT IS WHY I AM SO FCKING BITTER THEY SAID THEY LOVED US BUT THERE WAS NEVER ANY LOVE
THERE WAS ONLY THIS FCKING MENTAL ASSESSMENT OF EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE
WHEN THE HELL DID EITHER OF THEM EVER SHOW EMOTIONS TOWARDS US
ANY OF US
WAS THERE EVER GENUINE EMOTION FROM THEM
probably, yes, there probably was
but we couldn't recognize it as it was a totally foreign language to us. smothered, muffled, quiet, hidden.
I am so freaking sorry but that wasn't for me. is that selfish? I can't say no.
GOD DAMN IT I WANT TO SAY NO YOU NEVER GAVE ME THAT LUXURY BEFORE
YOU NEVER LET US SAY NO TO HIM
AND WE WANTED TO SAY NO
SO MANY TIMES
WHY DO YOU THINK WE DON’T REMEMBER HIM BECAUSE WE DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE
SAME WITH MEL, YOU NEVER LET US SAY NO TO THEM, THEY ARE NOT FOR US AND WE ARE NOT FOR THEM
MEL DOES NOT FCKING NEED US YOU FCKING PRICK!!!!!!! OTHERWISE THEY WOULD HAVE REACHED OUT TO US SOONER AFTER THEY LEFT!!!! AND THEY DID NOT!!!! THEY ARE DOING MUCH BETTER NOW THAN THEY EVER DID WITH US SO FCK THE HELL OFF AND LET THEM BE!!!!

I don't know what to do.
Mel says they "need" us there to listen. What if I can't? I mean, I can, but I'm just sitting here as a mailbox. I'm just looking at what they send me, the paragraphs telling of a life I don't know or understand, and wishing them well from a distance. Honest to God I hope their therapist takes my place, because I am literally doing NOTHING but typing up programmed replies, judging "what is correct to say" and saying it. Yes I mean well, but this is so contrived, so shallow.
It would be so much easier if they didn't shower us with praise afterwards. "You help so much!" I didn't even do anything! I read your words, wrote a fitting response, and yes I genuinely wish you the best but I can't do this, I am so fcking sorry, is that selfish? Is that weak and arrogant and evil? Am I allowed to say "this is spiritually exhausting for me" or will I get a divine slap in the face for daring to object to this task?

Maybe I shouldn’t post this. This is just a mindspill. I'm just typing to get the screaming scribbles out of my head.
But I am so terrified that Mel will read this, and they will hate us, and that anger will be reciprocated by God who will punish us terribly for daring to speak out like this. Isn't that weird? We feel that her reaction to us will be magnified a thousand times by the world, as some sort of holy order. If we make her happy, then we may continue in life healthily for a while. The second we make her feel sad, or angry, or alone, then we will be punished terribly just the same. I am so sick of this. I want to be free, but saying that is evil.

The problem is, if I believe that, the punishment thing, it will come true. I will magnetize it to me. I want to stop believing that but I cannot see anything else to believe, as I am convinced that this situation is the only "right" thing to do.
Daring to believe that I have no existential anchor to Mel feels like blasphemy, but it's tempting. It's so damn tempting, to dream of being unfettered. Is that the sinner's song? Is that the apple of Eden? Is that the black mark in my book that will send me to hell, that first flicker of rebellion, and then I am lost forever?
Why the hell am I still fighting this fight?

I don't want to think about this anymore, I am actually getting physically ill. Again. I usually do, when I think about them, IT IS NOT THEIR FAULT but it's true on my end. God I want to absolve them BY LETTING GO.
They do not deserve to have this reflected here. They deserve to be free, but they cannot be if we are tied to them!! LET US LET GO!!!!!
don't you DARE tell me to shut the fck up, I am ALLOWED TO SAY THINGS
YES I AM
IF I WASN'T ALLOWED TO HAVE A "SELF" THEN WHY DID I INCARNATE HERE
to "destroy the self" you say, to become "nothingness" again
well that is what we were attempting via suicide, which you ALLOW, just want to put that out there
you are a-okay with us killing ourselves, but not with living.
why the fck does that feel more morally correct than the alternative, this isn't right

back to the first paragraph, on that note, stop shoving me away from this topic i don't trust you anymore
no i don't, if it's a sin then i'll risk it for now
stop screaming at me to obey what does obeying mean
"shutting up" you say, okay, and then doing what?
"nothing," you say. "doing nothing, and dying the little death."
so what about in the meantime? am i allowed to eat or sleep or wash or anything?
one of you calls me a "fcking hedonist" for that, another of you says "only as much is allowed to keep you alive and dying"
fck off
just, fck off, all of you
you feel terrible, go away

first paragraph.
i feel nothing! again! why the hell is this common!
there USED to be relationships in headspace. maybe as recently as two days ago. maybe as far away as ten years ago. who knows.
time 4372859 we've had this conversation, probably, right?
and i will tell you WHY we've stopped having relationships of any sort, because it's happening RIGHT NOW.
this goddamned programming keeps shoving people into EVIL contexts. corrupted contexts, it's WRONG.
guess what? those images and words in your head? that uncomfortable, ugly, scary, shaky stuff? that they are saying those people are doing?
guess what. LOOK AT IT. tune into it. tap into the energy. guess what? IT'S FAKE. IT COLLAPSES IMMEDIATELY. IT IS NOT THEM.
you know it. you know it. i'm excited. you KNOW it. it's the tar!!! it's the tar, and the plague is the showmaster, he's pulling the strings. he's making them dance, like that, badly, but it's not them. you know it. you can feel it.
that's why you get confused when you go by images or forms alone. bodies lie. pictures lie. feelings don't. FEELINGS DON'T.
whatever feels right, in your HEART, is TRUE. who cares what it looks like or what form it is wearing. eschew your five senses for a minute, be that daring, be that scared in order to be free to the truth. listen to your sixth sense, the one that looks beyond, the one that recognizes the constant thing you are really trying to feel. i don't care what the tar says they are doing. they are NOT DOING IT. you can FEEL IT.

laurie does NOT ACT LIKE THAT. neither does chaos, or genesis for that matter. THEY DO NOT ACT LIKE THAT.
infinitii gets stuck sometimes in the tar but ze will stop as soon as you remind hir what hir heart is. ALWAYS. you know it. that's why ze is never hacked, because ze is free, by knowing in hir heart. ze does it, you know. you can too. you should, always.

this is important. forget what was before. let go of it. it is tying you to the past. this song is sending you a message, so listen to it and accept it.
stop listening to the bad voices, please jay, they do not have your best interests in mind. they do not care about the well-being of your heart. at all.

but i'm scared
i don't want to get "attached to people" when i love them
but where is the line? where is the line between my loving them, and the universe telling me "no, they will never love you back?"
why do i care? i should not care. but weirdly, i feel the strongest loves must be reciprocated, as those loves must be shared and echoed. otherwise... guess what, i feel almost nothing. i love, sure, but it's just a simple, ripple-less love. it's basic, and that's fine too.
but i miss the love that brings you to tears. i miss the love that makes you sing, and paints the air the color of flowers. maybe that's stupid language, but it's the only thing those feelings translate into. rainbow colors and music. i don't feel that much anymore, because i am terrified that those things mean i am "attached," that i am being "demanding" or "manipulative." why???
i want to feel like that again but i am fcking terrified that those feelings will turn me into a slut again.
i am so scared of that i am sorry, but please understand
the last time i tried to express that, i fell into an old and twisted program, and i
i fell into a very bad place
we all did
i do not ever ever EVER want that to happen again even if that means shutting off everything that may lead to it
is that the best choice? shutting off all emotions, to avoid accidentally becoming an abuser, or turning someone else into one? why does that happen?

i don't think words are the best place to reflect upon this.
i have to stay up another hour, someone ate late, i need to forgive them
they need to forgive themselves, which is even harder most times
they believe that when the body gets sick, when it gets swollen or in pain or otherwise frightened
it is god telling them "you are not worthy of having a healthy body, because you fcked up big time"
"you made a mistake, and you do not deserve to look respectful, or feel comfortable in your own skin."
it feels like a punishment, a declaration of total unworthiness. also a declaration that they are unworthy of respect and love from others too.
it is a horrible thing
i don't think it is true, do you? he just got sick. no the body got sick. because we put sick stuff into it i guess. we weren't careful. but jay cares about the body, he doesn't want it to get sick, he knows that! he made a mistake, or he wasn't watching, and that's okay, he will try again better. he doesn't hate the body he loves it and he loves us and he wants it to get better. so we shouldn't hate it.
we don't hate it we are afraid god hates us because we fcked up and hurt the body
but we didn't want to though. we tried and messed up a little and we will try again better tomorrow right?
can we?
yeah. as long as we are aliving we can still try.
okay.

see it's that simple
god doesn't punish you that's not god! that's those bad people!
god has consequences. you fck up you pay consequences
but not because he hates you! god does not punish you because he hates you. if you pay consequences you get sick because you ate a sick thing. it's not evil it's just sick and sad. and you have to heal it by loving it. right? so the consequences aren't all bad really.
someone says "loving them" means sex
no!!! stop saying that someone, it's not true! stop it!
it can be
stop it. "it can be" maybe. not for us. okay? not by forcing, not by telling us we have to. that's not love, ever. stop it. please.
okay

what does "loving us" mean then
the feeling jay was talking about earlier. or feeling.
i don't think he was here
no not all the way. okay but he knows what that feeling is. the smiling at the sky feeling. the happy sparkle quiet feeling. quiet! not the loud one. that one's mean. the loud one doesn't love she screams and doesn't love anything, she just wants to make noise and things.
real love is quiet?
yes from the heart. that's what i know. it is not demanding like those other people say. so when the body gets sick and we love it, that means we see it quiet as it is on its best days. we see it as a good thing that is just sick for a little while. it is not sick forever and it will get better. so we acknowledge that it is sick but then we help it get better because it deserves it and so do we. okay? that's all i know sorry.
that's okay that feels a little better thank you
who are you?
i don't know jessica maybe. young girl. teenager. drifty.
oh you're faceless mostly too. okay.

should we talk about anything else?
no tired
okay. good bye everyone sorry about all the words before us i don't know what it is but it feels bad.
it is bad don't look at it
okay. good night

SESSION PARTICIPANTS

LAURIE UBERICH

JAY IRIDOS

???

Freakin' finally.

Sorry. I don’t know why I keep putting this off.

I do. You don’t want to face up to this fact.

There's doubt. So much doubt. It's hard to talk to any of you anymore.

And that is why. If you don't believe in any of us, how the heck are we supposed to talk to you?

…

Kid?

Sorry. It's just weird. I feel so utterly detached from both myself and you.

Kid, listen. You're real, okay? I'm real. But this ego garbage is not real. Whatever the heck has been running the body in your absence is NOT real, and it is CORRUPT. It is screwing up everyone's lives because it refuses to see past its own negative obsessions. All right? Don't listen to it.

Can we not focus on the negative?

Like what? Jay, some things need to be discussed.

Well then let's discuss them. Let's just not get buried in them.

Sounds good to me. Where do we start?

You're asking me?

Well yeah, you're the one dealing with them, ain't ya?

Well, yeah, but… not really.

And that's the problem.

I don't think I'm supposed to be the core.

Whoa whoa wait, what?

I think Jewel is a better fit than me.

Jay, that's not you talking. Jay. Talk to me.

I'm trying.

No. Don't give me that garbage. Whoever you are, back off. Jay. Mister sparkly-eyed cupcake-haired idiot. Where the heck are you? You say Jewel is more fit to front than you, I say that's nonsense, the both of you are important and YOU'RE the one running with headspace. Okay? Where are you.

Being smothered.

No kidding. Where.

Inside. We might have to talk to the ego thing.

Heck no, you said no getting buried in negativity, and that's what that thing consists of. Talk to me.

About?

About whatever the heck you want, kid. Actually wait, no. Talk to me about Chaos.

Why?

Because he's the number one catalyst for everything up here, thanks to his name, thanks to his role, thanks to his love for you and your love for him.

And there's the rejection.

See, where the heck is that coming from?

Jessica maybe? Cannon? The negative peeps, you know that. The girls who view enjoyment and love as hedonistic and selfish and stuff.

Why?

Because as a child we were told "life is suffering" yada yada. And yes, there is pain in life. But suffering is optional, as they say. It's a state of mind.

Good, now you're getting closer. But seriously, why the heck do they keep telling you that you don't love him? Or shouldn't, or whatever?

Two things. Reasons. One, "identity is a sin?" That's what I just got.

Why the heck would identity be a "sin."

Because it's a lie? No see, that's twisted. We're all one, sure. But we're all facets of one. Like us. Maybe that's why they hate us.

They hate us because we take the attention away from them and try to live as individuals in a positive way. This "can't have a self" nonsense is exactly how they get away with the hypocrisy of denying the same thing they tell us. We can't exist, therefore, they can. It's nonsense. Garbage. Sorry I keep saying those words, but it is. You hear what I'm saying?

Yes, of course. And see I understand it, but there are roots it needs and hasn’t put down yet… it hurts to talk.

It hurts to think, probably. Cognitive dissonance. Sorry about that, I know it happens with channels.

It's okay. I just need to learn how to center more, in my existence. Like the only reason it's hard is because I'm separating from myself.

Which you do a lot. Actually, can we talk about that too? Why you keep blanking out for everything?

It's the 'purity' thing. There's a lot of misplaced judgment. "Eating is evil," "the body is shameful," et cetera. And the self-hate and loathing tied to those things chases me out, because it is very strong, and it brings other people in.

So we need more willpower on our part?

We need reprogramming, and positive reinforcements. It's hard to have 'more willpower' when I'm not exactly the one in the drivers seat to have the willpower. Which is why jumpbacks help. Anything to snap the attention back to me pushes the scales in my favor. Me or Jewel, really. Hence all the League work lately. But yeah, it's a battle we've effectively already won, they just refuse to stop fighting?

I know, kid. And remember that, okay? That we've made enough progress not to ever fall back to where they are. You keep thinking you're losing forward movement and you're not. You don't 'reset' just because you have a bad day.

I think it's tough because those old voices never moved forwards and so I get caught in their energy fields.

Huh. Makes sense.

But. But but but. I read something yesterday and it made total sense. Self-rejection includes them. At heart I know they're important for teaching and healing and broader understanding--

Yeah, Infi taught you that.

Sure did. But… the kneejerk reaction, the one tied to the Plague stuff, is to reject it. "Total purity." And really that's a false ideal. That needs to be fully accepted too. The old Christian mindset of a "spotless soul" has got the wrong roots. It doesn't mean being utterly, infallibly perfect, because in order to do that according to all the rules we'd have to die. It's impossible. Mistakes and missteps happen, but they're steps and not stumbling blocks if you stop viewing them as such. Sorry I'm rambling.

No it's okay kid, go on.

No, when I say "sorry I'm rambling," I really mean that I'm talking too much and I don't want to. I'm not comfortable with blather anymore. I know those things. I need to live them better.

Then please do. With us, okay? I hate to say it but you can't do it alone, simply because we're all part of your soul too, and you're part of ours.

Thank you. That's still one of the most comforting things I've ever heard.

I know. That's why I said it. Now. Chaos. Talk.

There's a barrier.

Why the heck has there been a barrier there for the past few years. Who the heck put it up.

Doubt? But mostly Cannon. I told you it's twofold: one--

You never said the second one. One was the identity thing.

Yeah, but I kind of said that wrong. It's really the fact that Cannon sees all relationships as "wrong," specifically in a "slutty" manner, and a relationship can only happen between two individuals. Therefore the negation of existence so that no love happens.

What the heck, that's insane.

Yeah. But I think that's it. "If no one really exists, I don't have to care about anyone, because none of this is real." So to speak. She's just terrified of relationships, because they're tied to Spinny, who is sheer programming and negative feminine things. I really don't want to talk about this, it hurts and makes me sick.

Because of what it brings to mind.

Yeah. Spinny is a mask. She's behavior specifically tailored to "be what everyone wants her to be." Basically, a flirty, pet-name calling, relationship-based robot. She was born from the societal lie that females have to be objects for sexual ends. It's wrong, and sick, but she took it as her purpose. Ironically she's not a 'person,' just a manufactured identity. Cannon sees both as synonymous? I don't know. Like I said I don't get it and it literally makes me nauseous to think about.

Then don't. We know enough about them. What we don't know is why that STILL hasn't been redefined with a better, non-abusive, non-lying definition.

Because… because of the self-hatred. Reason two. "We're too filthy to love."

Ah.

Self-annihilation because she sees the self as inherently separate from others, from God or whatever you want to call it. Hatred of others because she sees them all as puppets like Spinny, operating only to rape and abuse and lie. That's her worldview. I don't like it.

No kidding, none of us do, and I am seriously offended on Chaos' behalf that he would be lumped in with that definition.

He's not.

Not for you, no. But for her. She doesn't care at all, she calls everyone under that label and you know it.

Yeah. That's true. She's just so scared, all the time.

And she hasn't taken solace in the fact that Chaos has never done any of that stuff?

She says he has. You know about hacks and slippage.

…Oh. So for her there is no hope.

No. Because she sees herself, ourself, and the fact that hacks USE love and relationships, SPECIFICALLY, as backup for that. Sorry that was convoluted. Hacks exist to destroy unity and compassion. They are utterly malevolent and

Kid, you okay?

Yeah. I guess. Head just blurry is all. The reason why there's still a block against Chaos is because we're in a relationship, and Cannon is spitting at that very phrase as if it were the devil itself. She says it is, by the way.

Why?

"He just told you," and a pronoun misuse.

Kid, are you slipping?

Negativity. "She" is tied to the old female cores who hold this stuff. Sorry. Let me center.

He can't center, he'll black right out!! He's not tied to this!

Is that why he can't be with Chaos? You keep calling "fire" and chasing him the heck out when there's no real danger, ever??

…All relationships are dangerous. All relationships-- wait, are you recording this?

Yeah. Talk.

…Relationships are evil. Because they are sexual.

They are not, and you need to talk to Infi.

I will not talk to that slut!!

Excuse me??

I will not talk to that slut. That thing. You know. With its sexuality and all that evil.

Infi exists to show us exactly what things got put in the subconscious, which equals every sexual or sensual thing ever, no matter how vague or distant it might be from the actual defined term. Heartbeats. Water. Space. Freakin' everything. ANYTHING that got even vaguely tied to love got labeled as "sexual" because of that horrific abuse we went through.

It never happened.

Oh no you don't, don't start this game with me. It DID. Just because you or I wish it didn't doesn't mean it didn't. It had consequences, and you are living proof of it. So am I, to an extent.

…I hate you.

Why?

Because… you're a threat. They keep putting targets on you.

Why, because he loves me?

That's an ugly word.

What the heck-- you do realize that love has NOTHING to do with sex in and of itself, right?

Yes it does, the spir
itual people said so.

Okay, and now you're breaking, who the blood is this?

Spinningcannon. Gamboge. Somebody.

Gamboge? What the heck, Gamboge was sacrifice.

Atonement. She was atonement. She had the bitemarks on her arms. She was self-annihilation. For this.

For the sexuality?

Ugly word.

Why?

It IS ugly and you know it, YOU'D never touch it!!!

No joke I'd never touch it, it's not my job. But I don't hate it. I just shrug at it, that's your own business. And I don't hate people who use it either, because unlike you, I've realized that the tarheads who go about raping and abusing people are redefining something which inherently has NOTHING to do with that. Again.

That's not what this is about. It's disgusting in and of itself?

What, sex?

Yeah. How can you say that word??

Then don't have it. Simple as that. You don't need to, and I don't care what the alleged "religious community" says. If it's forcing that on you, or anyone, they shouldn't be calling themselves "religious" in the first place.

They do. They say I have to.

You don't. Look at Infi. Look at Chaos. There are OTHER, non-detrimental ways to use that same emotional energy, you know!

…I don't want to touch it.

Then don't. Redefine it all 100%. This isn't black and white, kid, okay? Just… stop hating people because they're in love, just because this bloody wreck of a society has lied to you in saying love equals sex. It is an absolute freaking lie and I swear I cannot believe this hasn't been healed since 2011. I cannot believe it.

Believe it. It's true.

Yeah, maybe, but I have hope. I have hope in that little feathered nightmare we have up here now. The Black one, if you can't tell.

Sorry.

No, it's fine. Glad you're back.

This conversation is going nowhere, huh?

No, it could. Back to what you were saying outside the room about "obligatory behavior." That nonsense doesn't exist, Jay.

I know. But fear begs to differ.

…Yeah, I figured. Moral fear, or what?

…I don't know? It's more like surrender, of the bad sort. The white flag. "Well, they said I should do this, so…" and then I'm gone, totally gone, and God only knows what happens then.

You know they notice, right? They all notice. I notice.

Then why the heck do hacks keep happening???

…Because half the time that happens you insist it's still you. Or whoever the heck you are. And those aren't very safe spaces.

You're safe. You're always safe.

I know. But I haven't been around lately.

…

Sorry.

No. It's my fault. Our fault. Whoever is up front's fault. Whoever keeps rejecting the entire inner world, saying it's fake.

Probably Fogbank. Either way, kid, be careful, please.

With?

Everything. Especially this Chaos thing. Your heart is being totally blocked out from love and that is causing all of our problems.

There's so much hate and shame tied to it.

Hate? Why the blood is hate there?

Hate because he loves me, and the old brain says "no way, I'm not dealing with this relationship nonsense again."

The Q thing?

Don't tie his name to that still, he doesn't deserve it.

But he did put a lot of weight into that fear.

BP did too. That was way earlier, AND it was forced on us by the mother. Thank God Ryman and Markus saved us from that one, but it sowed the seeds for utter repulsion in Cannon later on. "Not this corrupt stupidity again." Whereas Spinny immediately played the role, too terrified to risk losing a friend, or appearing a freak, or going against what was "morally good and normal."

Ah.

Yeah. So… when we fell in love, when we actually realized that now we were allegedly in the same position as those people, stuff broke. A lot. Jewel got fractured as hell and--

Jay, watch your language. Calm down.

Sorry. Let me breathe.

Please do.

…You know they have that listed as sexual, too.

You have got to be kidding me. Breathing?

Yeah. Because of Chaos, probably.

Kid, that has nothing to do with sex, okay?

Except it does. Except we blur the lines way too freaking much and I am sorry for the language, Laurie, but that is the only way this is going to get out raw.

…Okay, fine. Spit it out, then.

Okay. In my mind, in this mind, thanks to both Infinitii and the previous cores, sexuality is a warzone. On one hand, it is falsely defined as the hedonistic, abusive, manipulative lies that society sold us. On the other hand, it is tied to rape and hatred and everything the old Julie did. Total violation and humiliation, disgust and wrongness, the feeling that our body was utterly filthy and disgusting and alien to us and a betrayal because of what it did. Lies, both of them. Yes the rape and abuse was traumatic because it did involve a feeling of total panicked confusion, what the hell are you doing to me, oh God it hurts, stop please, what is happening to my body, et cetera. Old info, raw data, hard to get at.

Kid, are you slipping?

Yeah. Very vague. Let me talk. So that's the dark part. Thinking sex is all white pain and screaming and spitting and animal motions. Lipstick and female figures and breathing and sounds. Things that horrify the children and will get Wreckage at your throat in an instant, trying to kill you so no one gets hurt beyond repair again.

Kid, this isn't beyond repair.

No. It's not. That's the hope. But the children don't believe it when they haven't felt any of it, the hope.

Ah…

Yeah. Ashen hasn't felt hope yet. Neither have David or Marigold, at least not on a family level. You get the picture. Jeremiah is helping but it's all female trauma, we were only ever actually hurt by women. The men were the romantic ones, who made you feel disgusting and filthy, who made you feel like those women. We don't know what would have happened if they pushed boundaries. Thank God they didn't.

Yeah, you said it…

But. Sex is one thing. That's the two hands. What we have, up here, isn't sex, by its very definition. At least, the way we define it. 'Sex' is that physical act, disgusting, painful, wrong, frightening. But it shouldn't be. And so we redefined it on our own terms, and it broke. We redefined it, Chaos and Genesis and Infi and I, but we forgot to tie two and two together. We couldn't. The two things couldn't touch. The bonding between us, all of us, has nothing to do with that physical act. So reproductive stuff… it's still scary. How do we heal it?

Geez, Jay, I don’t know, I didn't realize we were working on a different level all along to that extent.

I thought you knew?

No, it… Eros blurred the lines all the freaking time. Infi does too, you know that. But…

But that's really uncomfortable and scary and I always tell hir to stop. And ze does. Ze doesn't force anything AND ze is acutely aware of how hacks are written into the fabric of that definition by now.

…How?

Sex is impossible for us. We're asexual, we feel no need or want for it, and that's fine. But we were also abused, so we don't have the luxury of "giving it a shot and saying no later." Like these people who try it and then decide nah, this is boring or silly or something else harmless. For us it's terrifying and the INSTANT there is a threat of it, we dissociate. Every time. I have never, never been able to stop that.

Your identity is written right out of it. So if they tell you Chaos is trying to have sex with you, which he bloody isn't, you're gonna get kicked out either way.

Yeah. As long as love and intimacy are wrongly defined as "sexual threats" it's going to be tough to be around him.

But it's not always? I mean, the other night, with you two in the car--

Exactly. We can easily be together safely, we just don't let any doubts come in. We don't go near that energy anyway so we're safe.

But you two are close as blood, man, literally, how the heck do they not-- wrongly define that?

They do. Afterwards they do. And that's where the hate comes in.

Ah. …That is really freaking sad. Like, in a heartbreaking way, I mean.

I know. And I do love him, but there's that wall of shame.

Why shame?

Because I… I want to love him, I want to show that, but not in the way they think I am. Not in that way.

Not sexually.

No. But close. Too close. I mean the spiritual stuff. That sort of bonding. I want nothing physical, not like that, no way.

I know. They don't?

They see no other option. They're so scared they're afraid to risk another option.

…Kid, center, this is getting way too blurry.

Sorry.

…So. Let's look at that hate because I want that out of there.

So do I.

…

…It's not towards him.

It's not?

No, let me look… no, it's hate because I love him, therefore we're in a relationship, therefore I must act a certain way.

Ah. Cannon/Spinny thoughts.

Yeah. Hatred because "I don't want to play a role" and--

No one is asking you to play a role, kid, especially not him.

It's an old program though. All of it is. That's really all I have to keep in mind.

Stop acting is all, huh?

Yeah. Just see that instinct when it comes up, and drop it. Center, like you said. I can't help but feel that the more this T kicks in, the easier that will get… less residue.

I hope so, kid, because this is one heck of a roller coaster ride so far.

Yeah. Existentially jarring. Weird, too. Because suddenly I'm reflecting on the outside and I'm not yet sure how to reconcile that with the mess the girls made. All the self-hatred, all the abusive habits, all the annihilatory actions… the body is programmed specifically to destroy itself right now, and I don't want that happening anymore. At all. The T is forcing that into perspective. But it's the last legs of the war, now, and all the bombs are dropping first.

Geez. That bad?

You've seen it.

…Today, huh.

Yeah. Laurie I am so sorry--

Kid, don't. Stop. Talk to me, calm down, stop typing. Talk to me.

…

I forgive you, okay? That was some tough stuff you were going through.

Maybe. I don't remember it.

You don't remember it? Heh, geez.

No, it wasn't me. But I know what happened.

And what happened?

…I tried to kill myself. Someone did.

Right in front of me.

…Yeah.

You had a razor at your throat, kid. They tried. And they didn't care at first whether I cared or not.

I know. That hurts so much.

But they did stop, Jay, eventually. Didn't say a damn thing to me, but at least they listened. At least they put the blade down, and didn't spill too much blood. No hospital trips, thank God.

Thank you, so much.

For what, saving your life? Least I could do kid, after everything else, and this, ironically.

That's the point. That scar. Didn't that hurt?

Well yeah it hurt, I was in tears. "Don't you dare go out in the same way I almost did once." Don't you dare die on me, not again. I can't handle that. And they called it emotional manipulation.

…It's not though, is it?

Heck no, kid, I love you, I don't want to see you dead! I want to see that hope you keep talking about lighting up your eyes, and you trying the road again tomorrow. Not lying bloody in the middle of it.

…

Kid, I know you're sorry, even if they're not. As long as you're still alive, it's fine.

I love you, Laurie.

…I know.

You're safe.

…Why the blood isn't anyone else safe.

It's… fear of intimacy? It's old stuff. They are safe, in my heart they're safe, but…

But the System labels them as threats. I know. There's-- well, not the System, but certain members of it. Visceral stuff. "They're threats because they love you, and that's what all those other people said."

Not really. Julie didn't. It's like I said, it's more of, "they love you, and therefore they MUST do that to you because they have no other option."

Ah-- wait, what? No other option? Seriously? Even with backup?

Blinders.

Geez. Take those bloody things off.

There's fear there, too. Fear that if there is another option, they will justify abusive behavior with it.

Kid, that's not what finding other options means!! Abuse is abuse, and if someone hurts you, I don't care what they claim they're doing, they stop that sin right that instant and you get your ass outta there, either or. Don't let them touch you or anyone else if you don't want to. EVER. I don't care what religious moral code they're preaching. If some religious nut tells you you "HAVE to have sex" or else suffer eternal damnation or loss of heaven or whatever the heck-- what is it?

It's fear that sex is mandatory on a spiritual level, or else you're rejecting God.

That's freaking ridiculous. Plants don't have sex, they have a totally different system going, THAT is proof that there's not only one way AND it can exist TOTALLY without abuse. Okay?

…I knew I liked plants for some reason.

No kidding, Infi told me about that, ironically enough. But yeah, you don't let anyone touch you without your permission, explicit and CONSCIOUS permission, mind you. No bloody terrified programs, or survival lies, or garbage like that. Get Wreckage out if you have to, let Algorith punch 'em a good one in the face if you have to. Just… respect yourself. Respect your self. You don't have to do any of that stuff, with ANYBODY, and you sure as heaven on earth do not EVER "have" to have sex with the people you love, BECAUSE you love them. That is utter demonic nonsense and it makes me furious, and Chaos knows it and Genesis knows it and Infinitii knows it too, but ze also knows the crap your subconscious holds to the contrary so be careful there. Sorry. Infi won't hurt you but ze will absolutely confront you with that by hir very nature.

I know that, yeah. Which makes it scary.

But Infi will not, and I repeat, not ever harm you. I know that for a fact, it's been proven in hir function. Infi cannot freaking harm you, ever. But ze can slip, just like you. Ze can slip, and ze can be hacked, and THAT is the scary thing you need to watch out for. Okay? The lies.

Isn't it funny how we have this conversation like fifty times a month?

If by 'funny' you mean 'heartbreaking,' yeah.

At least we're not giving up.

Yeah, that too.

…Give me a second, let me look at that wall again… and no, now it's the self-hatred, the stuff Jessica holds. The "I'm too filthy to ever love anyone" feeling. The conviction that she is utterly incapable of love because she is ugly, or fat, or filthy, or corrupted, et cetera.

Is that societal messages?

Partly, part is trauma residue, I would think.

(ended abruptly)

- fear/anger towards mother and mel.

let's find the roots of this and heal it

why are you angry at mel
I don’t know
find one thing.
I think they are mocking me. they smile and I am ashamed and I hate them.
why do you hate them? why are they mocking you?
I don’t really hate them, I hate that I feel they are so much better than me and would never let me share in that? if that makes sense. like they had so much power and strength and I wanted to be the same, I want to be the same way, but I felt they were forbidding me?
how was they forbidding you?
by always running to me for only the negative. looking for support, showing me all this weakness. and I couldn’t balance that with their drive, their determination, their ambition.
they were looking to you for support. they trusted you.
I know, they still do. I don’t know why there’s so much bitterness towards them
is it because of what they said when you left utah? when they said you "spat in their face," and did not care about them? even though you wore yourself down?
maybe. I think the only reason I havent let go of that is because I believed it. and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy I think and that is terrifying.
then let me say this. you did not spit in their face. you felt unworthy of their presence, and so you rejected their help, because you wanted to be as strong as they were and felt their help was forbidding you from reaching it.
yes. I felt they saw me as less. as flawed.
they did not. they do not.
I see myself as flawed compared to them. and there is still bitterness because I feel I have to become them. I project that. I interpret every little thing they do as being intended for me to see. "look, look what I am doing and saying, why aren't you doing the same?" they went to a comic convention and it felt like a stab in the back. "look at what I am able to do! why aren't you doing this?" nevermind that I don’t even want to, I don’t like comic conventions. but it’s the FREEDOM, the SUCCESS, the INDEPENDENCE. I want to personify those things too, in a way good for me. and the guilt of feeling stuck is making me bitter towards them, as they are a beacon on all my flaws.
so you do not hate them, you hate the self-loathing you project onto them. in them, you see an unreachable ideal that you want to reach terribly, and are told you are too weak.
yeah. I need to forgive them. and myself. they did nothing wrong. I guess I just feel they are draining me. when they talk to me it feels manipulative? like why cant we talk about positive things, not drama and negativity. but we never really had anything in common. and there's a lot of bitterness too. "I need you! I need you!" making me feel sworn to them for years. and then they left without a word, turned back to them dozens of other friends, to their job, to their education. they never needed me, but I drained myself dry for them. and still they insist they needs me, and I am not getting anything from this. is that selfish?
to want something from this?
yes. I want to feel like they are a positive person in my life too. but they doesn't feel like it? and I cant tell if that's my fault or not. like they have nothing to offer me that I need, EXCEPT that they know and cares for the system… I think.
so you only talk to them because they know your inner life.
yes. but they does not speak of it like e^5 does. for mel it's not important. and that's fine. but I love the system more than I love myself. and mel doesn’t focus on them when we talk? I guess that’s why I'm sad. I listen to mel and try to help them, but I get nothing in return. I don’t want to be bitter or demanding. but this is draining me.
what would you have to receive in return, to feel fulfilled in this relationship?
real love. trust. a feeling that they cares about us as more than just an ear to talk into. they feel so terribly distant all the time. but that's probably my fault too.
do you feel any need to reach out to them?
no. we have little in common. it is hard to relate to them. is that wrong?
why would it be wrong?
because I feel like I have to be with them. and that makes me bitter. they were a friend once, but I don’t remember that, I don’t remember them. oh. maybe that’s it. I don’t know who they are, there is no connection between us, and our conversations are so robotic. so flat. there’s no genuine outpouring or openness in them. I would love to give that first but they offer nothing anymore. they say nothing about their people. they do not write poetry anymore. it's just jobs, and video games, and fandoms. I don’t know how to connect to them as a person. if I did I would likely not feel this bitter.
you feel betrayed.
yes. no. yes. I feel like they expect a friendship and yet never offer their hand. or they do, but then everything must be by their rules. I don’t know. it makes me sick to my stomach. I am trying to think positively of them but I don’t know them, I don’t remember them, what do I do?
think about them with forgiveness. for now that is all you can do. rinse out the bitter scars with forgiveness. even if you don’t know them. practice seeing them as a child of the universe, practice seeing them as a child of god, just like everyone else.
something is trying to stop me from doing that.
why? why would they be separate?
because… because I am projecting onto them. I am seeing them not as a person, but as an extension of my bitter past. of my cruel psyche. whoever was out in 2012, whoever stayed with them, feels stuck to them. whatever they said after we left, when they defined us as someone horrible to be around, as a poison to their health, it stuck. part of us cannot forgive itself for that. because it believes it.
what would it take for you to let go of that, and believe you are better?
…I don’t know. the past cannot be changed. if I was so cruel, so toxic, how can I change that? can I?
lets say you cannot. say the past is as it is. can you move on? can you forgive who you were?
its hard to forgive when I assume it was intentional. I cannot remember. if I was so malevolent a person, forgiveness feels like a wave of the hand. 'it's fine!' and it is not fine. to have treated them so wrongly is not fine.
will hating your past self change it?
no. sadly it wont. I keep thinking that if I crush it with enough guilt and shame for its actions, for its disgusting hedonism and selfish cruelty, it will crumble under the weight and die. and then whoever that person was will be no more.
then what? would you be able to talk to mel?
…only if they did not see me as that person still.
is that what you think?
yes. that may be the problem. in talking to them I have nothing to go on BUT that 2012 timeframe. and so I feel that I MUST be whoever we were back then. do you see?
you do not have to be anyone. be yourself.
how? if they do not know me, nor I them.
be yourself. get to know them then. start over.
do I forget the past then?
what do you remember? is there anything to go on?
very little. it's more obligatory than anything.
tell me what you remember of them.
they like the color yellow. they listen to empire of the sun and pentatonix. they like howl from the ghibli movie, and cillian murphy, especially his blue eyes. they keep tons of journals. there's the bitterness again, the feeling that "you should have been like them!! they are so much better than you!!" and the self-hatred pushed outwards, because I feel them associating with me is a forceful order from god or something TO imitate them.
so you cannot talk to them without trying to become them.
without tailoring myself to them exactly, yes.
that is not safe or wise behavior.
how do I be myself with them then? its too selfish. I cannot be myself and talk to anotthem person because my focus is entirely on my own progress and inner life. in order to talk to someone else, I MUST bleed out dry and take on their lives instead. I MUST empathize with them totally or I cannot focus on them at all.
so it is all or nothing for you?
yes. where do I draw the line?
I do not know.
oddly it’s the same when they take inspiration from me. which is weird. like when they used to keep journals, or now on tumblr. when they share my actions or interests, my gut reaction is "they are forcing my life to imitate theirs now. they are slowly taking these aspects onto themself and making them entirely theirs, until I will have no choice but to become them." why is this how I think?
why do you feel you have to become them? or that they cannot share your interests without that occurring? is it simply the self =/= others paradox you have?
probably. it’s like, "well if they like this now, I cannot, because then I will be taking it from them." and it feels like they are swallowing my life. which makes no sense at all. again, it's projected. it's self-loathing and they are, sadly, innocently, the mirror. but… mel is so fearless!!! they talk without being ashamed!! they present their opinions, their thoughts on things, and don’t censor or shame themself. but my brain intereprets that as "attention seeking," "drama maker," "demanding attention," et cetera. absolute narcissism. if I were to state my opinion the same way, I would get glared at, looked at disgustedly, "what's wrong with you?" "how dare you speak up." and it is so sorry, I am sorry.
this is childhood programming.
it is.
and you still believe it. why?
there are so few examples to the contrary, and so much emphasis on that self-condemnation.
give positive examples to yourself. can you? or do you entirely believe that speaking your mind is "emotionally manipulative?"
it doesn't have to be, but it's hard to tell if my motives are or not, because i give everyone else the benefit of the doubt and automatically assume i am "less," that my behavior is ALREADY wrong.
that is false. give yourself more freedom. forgive yourself. mistakes are not a death knell.
they were. they are. to this day, when i mess up, i am told "we will kill you for this." there is no third strike. this is russian roulette. you pick the wrong path, then you're gone. that's it.
life is not like that. you must accept this. it is not one shot and then you're done. nothing grows that way.
in my heart i know that. but, again, childhood programming. hellfire and black marks and all that.
i know. so let us return to your thoughts on mel. how they are fearless in your eyes.
they are. they speak their mind, and pursue their wants and dreams, and promote their work, utterly without fear. i couldn't do that without feeling like i was forcing it down everyone else's throat. "look at me! look at me!!" demanding and cruel and hateful. they aren't like that, but i only know that option from past experience. so i get confused. i project that onto them.
then you must learn a different option. what is the first step we can take?
well i'm posting more of my art online. i'm not asking for recognition, i'm just passively sharing.
does that feel like forcing it on others to you?
yes. just posting it feels like forcing it on others.
so, in that train of thought, the only "non-selfish" thing would be to keep it to yourself?
paradoxically. that's the stupid irony, because NOT sharing would be the REAL selfish choice.
then remember that.
i will have to. i just don't want to force anyone to do anything.
are you? are you demanding it?
i think subconsciously? i love my work, i have so much love and joy for this life, i just want others to feel that too. and, as a child i did not get that from my peers or family. i always only wanted to share, and it was never really felt. i just got the "smile and nod" response, mostly. the few times there was genuine interest-- like that one night my mum got so interested in dream world they was asking about elevolt, all on them own, i will never forget that-- those few times stand out like a sign from god. i treasure that. and maybe it is selfish, but i want that in my life. actively. constantly. it brings me pure joy, to share in that love. to SHARE in it. it is a group effort. i would not force anyone to love this. but if they do, then god willing, let us magnify it together. let's celebrate this.
that is not selfish.
i just think i'm forcing it. like i'm trying too hard. but that's likely due to a lack of self-credit again. a lack of contentment with myself.
why?
uh... because i'm just one person, maybe? because "happiness is only real when shared." it's a restlessness.
does this tie into mel?
yes. yes it does. and it's so hypocritical. i WANT to celebrate their stories and inner life with them, BUT they doesn't share much of it? yet? maybe they doesn't want to. maybe i can't relate to it as strongly as i want to. and that scares me. what if ultimately i cannot be the person they need me to be?
do they truly "need you to be" anything?
i thought they said so. maybe i'm trying too hard. again, maybe i feel i have no other choice.
how much of your relationship with them is obligation?
most of it.
what if you did need to move on? what if they asked you to? would you be crushed under the guilt like you were in 2013?
i hope not.
why do you feel obligated to be their slave, even if they were to tell you strictly otherwise?
because... i don't know. that power dynamic is older than i am. whoever met them first, in 2009 or whenever, that was the basis for our relationship. we were under their control. we had to be them. oh shoot do you think that was because of q?
what?
we were so terrified of losing his friendship. our only lasting friendship, the only one that had roots-- he knew about genesis, about chaos, about the jewel monsters. he knew about the things dear to our heart. we didn't know him, hell we had almost nothing in common, but we cared about him dearly from a distance nevertheless. we called him a friend. BUT we had no precedence for mel appearing in this. we thought, "now he has them, he does not need us anymore, it's over." all or nothing. that is the only recorded feeling for that time period. "i can't lose my only friend. i will do anything. i will become anything. just let us keep our friendship." i have no idea what resulted from it... but maybe that was the "idolizing" thing with mel. i'm getting confused. sorry.
you feel that you view them, on the rawest level, as "someone to become." "someone to imitate exactly."
maybe? subconsciously. like i said. but the bitterness is because of that probably. thinking that i cannot be my own person as long as they are around. i MUST be everything they needs. and the angriest part is that i WANT to be, i WANT to be everything for them, I HAVE to be... but why?? it's "wanting" in a "i have no choice" sense. i care about them, but..... i have never felt close to them. i don't know who they are. they talk like we're the closest friends on earth sometimes, and it confuses me, because there's this huge distance between us. they have so many other friends. we have no history together. why do i feel obligated to sacrifice my life for them?
you don't have to.
they say they need me. they need my support. i want to give it, entirely, that is true. but i am so angry, so confused, because... why?
is it because part of you misses the days when they, too, knew what was dear to your heart?
that's selfish.
is it?
yes. it's selfish as hell to want to talk about headspace and dream world for hours. so selfish. the only time it would not be selfish would be if they adored it, like i do, and wanted to talk about it. they doesn't. it's fake that way. forced. obligatory. and then it is empty and wrong and irreverent.
what if they did love it? what then?
then i would let THEM talk. that would be wonderful. i would love to listen. even if they just talked about their people.
you want more than just them asking for a shoulder to cry on, then.
no, even THAT would be better than this. i'm just listening to hurts and troubles i cannot do anything about. i feel powerless and frustrated. what can i do or say? and it feels so distant. maybe if it wasn't online. maybe if we were in the same room, maybe they'd let their walls down, maybe i wouldn't have to say anything in response and they'd still know i cared. i'm just not getting that right now. it feels shallow. i'm angry because i don't want shallowness. maybe i'm being a hypocrite. i don't know.
i will ask again: do you want to rebuild a friendship with them?
only if it is not one-sided. only if it has depth and sincerity. only if it's not so focused on the negative all the time. i cannot do this now, where i am just a therapist, not a friend. it feels too much like my mom. "this is why my life sucks. i am so depressed. you're such a good listener, i don't know where i'd be without you." and that's fine if it helps, really i'm glad, but... i get so tired being nothing but a listener. it's depersonalizing, if that makes sense?
it does. there is no real output from you.
i don't even want output, i want to feel like a person in relation to them. if they were talking about joy, about something that lit them up, then i'd feel real too. they'd be trusting me enough to share that. now, it's just like yelling at a wall. i don't know. i'm tired, i'm sorry. i don't hate them, i'm sorry for saying that at first. i hate the way i feel around them currently. it's not fair to them, they doesn't deserve that. but it's all internal stuff being brought out by them, things that need to be healed, and i thank them for that even if they doesn't know.
would you like to continue talking about this?
no, not now, i need to let this be and unplug my head from it. think positive thoughts, higthem vibration things. thoughts that don't make me feel nauseous and sick like this. i will instead "be the change i want to see." be who i want to be. if i am happy with myself, truly so, and respect myself, these problems will fall away on their own in due time. this is another mirror. if my reflection isn't presentable, then i must polish myself.
then do so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I really need to stop going online, especially on all socially-based websites.

There is nothing, nothing worse for my mental state than the sort of chatter I unfailingly seem to encounter in "public," moreso on a computer than on the road, because I can at least pick and choose in physical reality. Online, not so much, especially not here. Things broadside me, and then I'm spending the rest of the day fighting off intrusive thoughts and flashbacks and self-loathing resurgences and numbing burnouts. It is not worth it, for one second of shock to turn into six hours of fallout.

I've tried the "exposure" thing, we really have. That was Cannon's big thing: "get used to it." But it backfired horrifically. Our condition went downhill very fast as a result of that thought process, and it left scars that unfortunately don't look like they're going to fade. in short, there are certain states of mind that do not benefit from re-experiencing triggering or unsettling situations, and ours has proved to be one of them. So I cannot force any of us to endure this anymore, even unintentionally.

Honestly, I only really use the internet for archive updates, or catching up on the news. There are maybe 5 webcomics I still read, but it's casual, and I don't mind catching up 4 months late if I must. Everything else I've either quit or abandoned, and it's a huge relief. I'm just hesitating calling it quits entirely, again, because if I slack off on personal updates then my temporal memory tends to suffer as well. Thankfully though I can type updates on my own time and just post them when needed, without going anywhere else.

No use rambling though. I know, full well, that Tumblr is terribly dangerous for someone like me. Most websites are, but this one is especially bad.

I'm going to try to stay offline for a few weeks at least, save for any relevant archive updates. We desperately need to recover and this exposure is not helping towards that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@ 09:56 pm

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

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

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

@ 11:04 pm

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

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

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

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

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

what else

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

okay bye <3

emergency post.

this is the autopilot program for the lightraye system

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

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

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

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

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

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

@ 10:01 pm

dear god:
help.

help me, please. PLEASE.

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

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

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

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

infi is dead there is blood everywhere
what happened

what did she do

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

what happened?

oh god

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

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

@ 10:10 pm

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

ABUSIVE MELTDOWNS, NO ONE
SEXUAL TRAUMA, NO ONE

THERE WAS NEVER ANYONE TO TURN TO

except the people upstairs and
now not
god
please fix this

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

sorry stuipd child trying complaining i hlope you die too.

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

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

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

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

@ 10:14 pm

someone stop her
this is the ap
soeone stop her

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

cannon and jessica both were resposnible for this massacre

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

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

good luck fiuxing it SLIT SLUT .SLUT

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

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

-a.p.

god rest your souls

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

@ 11:40 pm

short update: miracuously not dead

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

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

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

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

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

@ 11:41 pm

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

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

sorry no responses fom us bad night. but thank you

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

@ 11:49 pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hope
tomorrow will arrive either way

Tried to leave the house today... ended up having one of the most violent, abusive, catastrophically switchy meltdowns I've had in over a year.
It lasted a solid hour.
Now I'm shaking, numb, weak and dizzy, and I don't know how I'm going to deal with the next 6 hours until we can (hopefully) safely sleep.

Still. I like to think we don't have social anxiety of any sort, of course not, that's ridiculous.
But we get panic attacks EVERY time we drive, we can't be alone anywhere without suddenly getting switchy as all hell, and the slightest notion of interacting with people in public causes us to freak out and/or shut down. It's virtually impossible to rein in or control. That's scary. It really is.

Sorry for venting. I'm just worn out, and trying to manage this bodily pain now without relapsing into abusive coping methods. Therapy is tomorrow morning, so let's hope we can make honest progress there for once.

I really don't have much energy to update today, but I don't want to slack off anymore, so let me at least try.

I don't remember yesterday. I really don't, and I'm sorry. However, I can explain that. I... don't know if I want to, though. Not explicitly.
Something happened in the evening that wasn't traumatic in and of itself, BUT the immediate aftereffects were.
I won't talk about that now though. Let's get the data out of the way first.

Something I realized today: in a previous post, I mentioned my old mindset of thinking "I'm not capable of making correct decisions on my own?" Well, I don't think I mentioned the other big part of what plays into that... which is, ironically, friendship.
I've spoken about this with my therapist already, but when I was in elementary school, after 1st grade, I was the outcast. I was the weird kid that no one wanted to be friends with, and when I tried, guess what mindset I got? "I'll only be your friend if you do everything I tell you to."
One of my only memories from school is in the church basement of my old school, in 3rd grade or so, with 2 girls who were my friends for a while. We were pretending we were Pokemon-- one girl was a Charizard, and the other was a Mewtwo. The problem? I wanted to be a Mewtwo. I adored that species, and being barred from being one felt like a slap in the face. But no-- the latter girl told me, quote pointedly, "you have to be Mew, and then you have to be my servant." I protested repeatedly, but couldn't win out. But it wasn't just giving up. I loved that girl, honestly I did, and so I decided I'd let her have her own way, even if I was going to gripe about it. She was the boss, I told myself. She would always be the boss.
And... that's just how my friendships seemed to go. I don't think I've ever had a real offline friendship, one that doesn't operate under that sort of power structure where I am understood to be the henchman, the scapegoat, the sidekick that does all the dirty work. The biggest problem, though, is that I let myself be shoved into that position, willingly or unwillingly... and I wouldn't fight because "hey, at least they're willing to call you a friend."
Another outcast girl tagged along with me for the rest of my elementary school days, but although I assume we spent time together, I don't remember any of it. All I do remember is that, whenever she was absent from school, I wouldn't miss her. Sick as it was, I would actually think "yess! Finally I have freedom! I hope she's out for a few days." It makes me ill to see that-- the only reason I know this is because I've found several old elementary school journals where I expressed that mindset-- but it's true. What's worse, though, is that when she was around, I wouldn't even hint at that exasperation. I'd talk to her and we'd spend time together and we were considered buddies by everyone else in school. But the second I was left alone, I was looking for a way out. I don't think she ever explicitly bossed me around, but I do remember one day in 7th grade where she literally threw my drawing tablets across the classroom-- the most meaningful things in the world to me-- laughing, as I stared in frozen horror, wanting to jump up and scream for her to stop but too scared of losing our "friendship." Is it really a friendship, though, if you don't respect each other? Is it really a friendship, if you never speak to each other outside of school, and only tolerate each others presence? But I never saw a problem back then. I didn't know any different.
It was the same once I left elementary school. On the bus, all the little kids flocked to me. And would you believe that I let THEM use me, too? One kid constantly stole my keychains and ripped pages out of my notebooks, demanding that I draw him things and getting angry when I didn't. I never told him to behave because I felt I had no right to. I never considered him a friend, but I still let him-- a 4-year-old kid-- push me around. But the most notable bus kid was someone I called Angelbee, after a magical-girl persona I created for her. She, too, bossed me around, pulled my hair, wrote in my notebooks, tore pages out of them, took things from me as I was using them and wouldn't give them back. I designed her character at her behest and then did the same for about 5 of her friends, even though I was exhausted. And, every time the bus drove past her stop instead of picking her up, I'd sigh in relief... and then punch myself for it. "How dare you wish your friend wasn't around," I'd say. "You don't deserve friends if you think of them that way." But was she ever my friend, if again, she never spoke to me after I stopped taking the bus? Was she ever my friend if I didn't know anything about her as a person, and only really loved the character she created, the pink-haired girl whose name I called her instead of her own? I don't think so.
But I did love her. I loved all of them, in a quiet sort of way, because they were people, wonderful individuals with their own stories and joys and pains, even if they were unknown to me, and they were deserving of love just because they existed.
Why couldn't we be real friends, then? I must be flawed, I guessed. It's me. I'm the problem.
Online it was a little different. Online... well, I can't speak directly, but looking back on old records, it looked like I was the one using people now. I was so used to being pushed and ordered around that now I just wanted someone to draw something for me. And that's the most selfish thing I can imagine, isn't that funny? "Hey, there are these characters that I absolutely love... can you draw them for me?" But whenever I said that, no matter what words I used-- and I was indirectly passive about it more often than not-- it felt like a demand, an outrageous demand. I was ashamed of it. But I constantly drew things for other people, hoping to "get them to like me," hoping to "earn" art in return. But damn it, that's not how you make friends either.
It's no use complaining about it now. I just want to make it clear, so I don't waste my hour of therapy on Tuesday reiterating something I already understand about my foggy past.
The point: every single one of my past friendships has been emotionally manipulative, either to me or because of me. Offline, I let myself be pushed around, never asserting or defending myself for fear of losing a "friend" I didn't even truly like, and who probably didn't even truly like me. Online, I would push other people around, skillfully handling my words and actions to get them to like "me," terrified that I was unworthy of friendship unless I played the exact role they wanted.
Hey... that's it, isn't it?
I never feel that I can be genuine in friendships. I always feel obligated to do what they want, even if I have to wrongly convince myself that I want it too.
That sounds far too close to my biggest problem again. I don't like it.
There's one last... friendship that I want to mention in this train of thought. It makes me feel like a horrible, horrible person for bringing it up, but I have to. This has been eating at me for a VERY long time, and I've only been able to put words to it now that I'm discussing it in therapy.
For years I thought this friendship broke the mold. "They like me," I thought. "They don't even order me around!"
But hindsight is 20/20, as they say.
It breaks my heart to say this. Maybe it's projection. Part of me hopes it is, so that they are pure and blameless and utterly righteous, but another quietly bitter part of me-- the part I squashed when I was still a child-- hopes that it's not, because it doesn't want to get trapped in that sort of situation again, if that's indeed what it was.
No use mincing words. Let me say this.
In that friendship, they never liked me, although they thought they did. The problem? I was too used to playing a role, and I played it damn well. Looking back, though, it hurts me to see just how much I deluded them. Once my mask slipped, they left, and I'm glad. No use perpetuating a game that they believed, just to have a "friend." The other problem is that I seriously doubt that was "ME" back then-- even my therapist thinks it was an alter. That kind of throws a monkey wrench into things. Point is, though, I learned how to manipulate people really well, to survive at home, to get people to like me. I learned how to say and do exactly what other people wanted. I just never learned how to separate an act from my true feelings and wants and needs. Maybe I still don't, not with all these voices in my head.
Still, my dishonesty there is what the friendship was founded on, and I'm well aware of it. They tried to fix it later on, but again, all my stupid acting and splintering around people made it near impossible. That's not what bothers me about this situation.
Looking back, I've realized, to my total shock and nausea, that it qualified-- yet again-- as being emotionally manipulative.
I would NEVER have accused them of that. I'd have rather blamed myself of that. And I was, I won't deny that. It was all I knew to do, to be liked. Again, that's not the point. The point is that, reviewing old conversations and notes, there is a disturbing amount of dialogue that flashes huge warning lights in my head now. Like, you don't say that to someone unless you're controlling their reactions.
It's scary to me because they didn't realize they were doing it. I don't think they did. Everyone I knew like them did that to me. It was like... like my life was a game, like my entire world was a game, and only they knew the rules. Only they knew the rules to my life, but instead of telling me, they would just make cryptic comments about it. They would leave hints-- which I am notoriously bad at even perceiving-- and they would insinuate, but nothing direct. The worst of it, though, was that they all acted like I was incapable of playing that "game," the game of my own life, without their help.
I even had them effectively tell me that a few times. That's what kind of tore the floor out from under my feet when I realized it.
I knew the early relationship-related manipulation was a problem once I started fighting for air and space, and ran. I knew that the clinginess and feelings of possession, although all obviously unintentional, were not something I could handle anymore. I didn't know that later, much MUCH later, that same thing returned, and I was blinding myself to it, because I believed them. I really did. Maybe I still do.
I BELIEVED, wholeheartedly, that they were in charge of me, and that they had the RIGHT to be. I fully believed that they understood more about life, about MY life and how I should live it, than I EVER would. I believed that I was incapable of making correct choices on my own, without their guidance. I couldn't see straight, after all. I Something in me must be flawed after all, I thought. But hey! They're here, they're so much better than I am, they're even my friends... and they know what to do, they must know. I'll do everything they tell me to.
I never questioned it. I never questioned it, not until I was torn out of their lives and they responded by throwing in the towel of our badly twisted friendship. That's when they suddenly started acting differently, rightfully questioning the validity of our bonds, and you know what? They were right about it. There was nothing, NOTHING, when you took the masks away.
One 'friendship' was based upon common interests that I never actually held. The other was effectively mutual therapy. That's all we had. That's all we ever had, and I knew it.
I was repeating the same pattern I had always followed: get a friend who chooses/ dictates/ influences everything I am "allowed" to do, actively or passively... then learn how to act to get them to 'like' you... whenever they're not around, try to run away... and yet, if THEY try to leave, freak out because that obviously means you messed up big time. Congratulations, you made someone hate you. Again.
So when they decided they'd had it with me too, I panicked.
I panicked. I was losing the only long-term friendships I had EVER had, and even if I had been a total asshole, I fought. I was stupid, and I fought to keep the relationship going, even if it was false, just because having to accept that I had fucked up again was too horrible to bear.
But the stupidest thing was I didn't even want the friendships back. I KNEW there wasn't anything substantial there, and hadn't been for years. I KNEW, looking back, that our friendship was unhealthy, and we were all at fault, with me wearing masks for fear of rejection, and them treating me, with genuine kindness, as someone incapable of living without them... something I believed with every fiber of my being.
That, on top of the thought of being rejected as a friend, stung too much for me to let go even if it would be mutually beneficial... especially because I still loved them too, like I loved everyone before them, and still did.
No matter how badly I had been abused by some of my "friends" in the past, I still loved them, and always would.
At least... I thought I did. Isn't that ridiculous?
That was the final nail in the coffin, when it hit me. I loved them all as strangers, maybe. As ideas, maybe. But that was all. I never really knew them as who they were, to themselves, to each other. None of them. I only loved the glimpses I saw of them, that I scraped together into dreams of them, doppelgangers that never existed. To this day, my mental images of them all don't match who they actually are, years later, growing up. No wonder we never actually got along. Did I ever see them for who THEY were? Was I that blinded by my hope?
I've done that to every person I've ever known.
I don't think I've ever known how to love people, because in order to see them that way, I have to see myself as a person too. I don't know how to do that.
I only ever feel safe when people don't see me. I only ever feel safe and right when I don't have a reflection in the mirror.
I guess I can't ever expect myself to have "meaningful" relationships if that's the case.

So there are our three problems, that I've found.
1. I attract, or cause, emotionally manipulative relationships, as I fear I am inherently unlikable on my own.
2. I doubt my ability to live my own life correctly, so I also attract people who insist they can/should/will do that for me.
3. I don't know how to see myself as a person, and struggle to see others as more than concepts as well.

So that's that. Terrible things, awful truths and personal failings, that J didn't even write. Of course not! He doesn't know them. He doesn't talk about "himself." The concept of a self, of a body, is claustrophobic and terrifying to him.

How much of that is even true? How much is us making stuff up? Or exaggerating? Or throwing blame at others? Do we have any right to complain? It's in the past, it's in the past, it's in the past, it's gone, not real, gone

Ssh.
Let's slip into a related topic. I believe he wanted to discuss what happened last night?

Do you know?

No. But I know enough.

this is getting really fragmented and it may be a wise decision to just close up

NO THAT'S WHAT SHE WANTS YOU TO DO!!!

I don't want to talk about last night.

Then don't. Let us talk about today, instead.

SHE ALMOST HACKED YOU TODAY, DID YOU KNOW??!?

no

SHE DID. I GOT HER OUT. SHE SCARED DAVID. WHY THE FUCK DO YOU LET HER AT YOU.

guys, don't, PLEASE, I can't do this at this hour. go talk in your own journal please, not here, not here.

...okay. okay. Okay. Sorry about that. I can't exactly tell them to shut up when that's happening. And it's extremely rude and selfish of me, not to mention utterly inappropriate, to delete what they've written after it's been said.

Last night. Last night hurts too much. I can't say that outright yet. Not yet.
There were two successful hacks this week. First ones in months. You know that, right? I wrote them on the calendar.
We haven't been getting hacked in about two years, not like this, because Julie "switched sides" in 2011. I still have to wonder if that was genuine or not. It seems maybe the Tar wanted her to. That opened doors for it to hurt us in horrendous ways, ways it couldn't even dream of using while Julie was its avatar. But once she wasn't, IMMEDIATELY it started attacking J. The horrible Celebi event chain happened. Physical flashbacks started. The nightmares stopped, but only because they moved to the waking. J insisted he was possessed half the time. He began to lose his sense of will, his awareness of his own emotions and thoughts, because the Tar was now able to slip right in and get him to instigate hacks himself. If you hurt a man long enough, brutally enough, and tell him repeatedly that it is his fault, that he deserves it, that he even WANTS it... because he should, you say, as you tear him to pieces... eventually, against every fiber of sense and health in him, he will believe you. He will believe everything you tell him. And he will forget how to do otherwise.
That is what happened to J, you realize? A boy that badly broken, incapable of seeing his own scars. Incapable of bleeding his own blood. So badly twisted and manipulated, so used to running and lying and faking smiles, that he has forgotten how to do otherwise. A boy so badly hurt that he forgets how to cry, that he forgets how to laugh, that he wastes every moment watching for danger, hypervigilant. A boy who cannot share a room with another human being without panicking that they are going to assault him, or worse. A boy who lives his days smothered by lipstick-pink desires and temptations that he hates and fears and loathes and doesn't understand, but which he gives in to nevertheless because he is terrified of the alternative. He is terrified that if he says no, he will make things worse. But he is wrong. There is nothing, nothing worse than losing your soul because you've been convinced it's worthless in your own hands.
There is nothing worse than watching a boy lose his heart because he's been told that it's inherently filthy.
There is nothing, nothing more painful than seeing a young, beautiful boy forget what love is, because he's too used to trauma masquerading under that name.
There is nothing worse than seeing this child view the world through empty eyes, praying for death, when all he truly wants is to live, to live a life free from pain and terror and abuse. His nights are sick. His days are sicker. What do we do?
I do not know.
Can we do anything?
I do not know. He could, if anyone could. But you see what has happened.
Yes. I do see. It's a shame, a heartbreaking shame. He's not trying to hurt him.
I know. But he does. The boy is broken. You know so yourself. The slightest touch will break him further now.
Does the healing require such terrible pain, though?
I don't know.
I see.

....
i have a feeling that whatveer that cloud of text is , its important.
not going to even ATTEMPT to wriet anymore tonight,good night.
weekends are tough. everyone is home and there's a lot of noise. i get suicidal on weekends from the sheer overload of sensation. its easier than dealing with an assault on my five senses for 72 hours afeter all
i was so tierd and sad today i laid in bed for 2 hours listening to todd rundregn
after standing otuside in the sun for an hour and wanted to cry because i couldnt just go into the woods and lie down beneath the pines and stay there forever
i couldnt fly this evening they told me i wasnt joyful enough and you cant fly without joy, i was weighting myself down
i got myself tos mile and for a second i felt my wings come back, mayeb i could have flown a bit but no too much sad
last night last ngiht hurt so much
whoops j is gone sorry he must not want to talk about that

but im not allowed to talk here too uh oh seee you

i'm scared

i shouldn't be though

people make scary noises and do scary things

i'm shaking and i want to cry on the inside not the outside

scared to sleep again. dont want to go in there.
what do i do
i cant sleep
not safe
im so tired of this

god im sorry

i wish i had one friend, ONE FRIEND,
who actually cared even if im scary
and would help me somehow

but thats stupid and selfish isnt it
"no one can save you but yourself"

i know

but what if i just want a friend
is that so bad too
is that so selfish to want someone to care
i hate it
i hate myself for even asking
and getting in peoples way
and making them not smile
im sorry
i keep ruining their lives.

i dont want to though.
they just keep telling me i am.

i chased away the one friend
i said go dont let me hurt you more
she said okay and goodbye forever she went
but now im stupid upset because no friends
no one to talk to when scared

"you need a social support group"
i dont know how
how do i do it are they nice?
do they hurt me are they scary
do they listen or just talk at me all the time
do they get angry at me when im scared

why are friends so confusing

ayway thats not important
whats improtant is the fact that im scared and sick
i dont wanna go in there
but im so tired
i want to sleep but i DONT WANT TO GO IN THERE

whre do i go

sorry not supposed to updaet

everything is dead

upstairs is gone, it all dead
dead
gone and dead
so maybe we can work it was working?
but now triggers back cant work.
tahts why im on here
trigger bad make upstairs people talk again
otherwise no

cant sleep want to sleep tired sick scared

goodbye

(this was such a life-changing, emotionally raw, brutally honest entry that we are actually going to leave it completely uncensored. to edit it in any way would be to take away from the sheer impact and pain of the original event.)

SESSION PARTICIPANTS

LAURIE UBERICH

JAY IRIDOS

INFINITII ETERNOS +MEL V. (GUEST)

063013 20:39PM
J YOU BLOODY IDIOT IF YOU KILL YOURSELF I AM GOING TO BE FURIOUS AS HELL
Whenever you get this, get the hell upstairs. I don't care what you're in the middle of. TALK TO ME.
Those downstairs bitches are screwing with your head something fierce and I REFUSE to just sit back and watch this disaster continue any longer.
Don't you dare die on us, kid.
Talk to me.

070113 4:13PM
I daresay we discussed this last night, and this morning, at least to some extent.
But I agree. This keeps happening, and I know downstairs is a problem. It's weird that they run whenever you're around, for one.
I'm not quite sure what's going on, but we DO need to talk.
Xanga session tomorrow, or tonight?
(p.s. I love you, thank you for not beating the shit out of me for being such an idiot, haha.)

11:34PM
JEWEL DON'T YOU DARE

I'm trying not to.

Fuck you, man. FUCK YOU.
God damn it I cannot do this for another fucking night
I swear to god.
Don't do this shit, please.

Laurie I don't have any fucking methods lying around except pills! That's it, it's unreliable, are you happy now?
I'll be alive and dead for at least one more night.

No. I'm not fucking happy because one day, those goddamn pills will be ENOUGH for you to say "fuck this shit" and down 'em anyway.
I know you, I've seen you get that goddamn close before!!
WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING.

i can't heal, damn it i can't seem to heal and i don't know why
i'm sorry laurie, i love you but i'm sorry this keeps happening.

No fucking SHIT you can't heal, you won't acknowledge the fact that you're MISSING A FUCKING ARM at this point.
You have gone through SO fucking much damage it's a miracle that you can still fucking WALK at this point.
And you STILL insist there is NOTHING WRONG.
THAT IS THE FUCKING PROBLEM.
You know that just as well as I do but you WON'T ADMIT SHIT.

laurie that's the problem this SHOULDNT BE A PROBLEM

FUCK YOU IT IS A PROBLEM
YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF OVER THIS SHIT
THAT MAKES IT A GODDAMNED PROBLEM.
I don't care if you don't think it's legit.
I DO.
THAT'S REASON ENOUGH, GOD DAMN IT.

but laurie julie was right
i shouldnt be sick over this
something is wrong with me

Don't give me that "shouldn't" shit.
Fuck all of that.
Let's focus on what IS happening, which is:
1. You ARE sick.
2. Julie was a BITCH when she said that to you, and you KNOW IT.
3. NOT EVERYONE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET FUNCTIONS THE SAME DAMN WAY.
You're ALLOWED TO BE DIFFERENT.
It's not going to make you a "heathen" or any of that shit, so chill out for God's sake.
J, TALK to me.

I am hold on
do you want to go on xanga or something isntead

Fuck no we don't have time, I want this shit written down so you can look back on it later IF you have another suicidal fucking meltdown, keyword is "IF" because GOD DAMN IT I do NOT want this happening EVER AGAIN, do you hear me?!

yes i hear you laurie
what do i do
if all it does is keep you from getting angry like this
i'll try one more day

You're going to try a FUCK of a lot more than one goddamn day, kid.
I am NOT going to let you die.
Talk to me.
Slowly, if you have to. Do you want me to ask questions? Yank this shit out of your ribcage since you've apparently nailed it shut again?

why laurie
don't take offense to that
but really, why

Fuck off and don't finish that thought.
I won't let you die because I love the hell out of you, kid.
Selfish, maybe, in your eyes at least.
I don't give a shit.
I love you and seeing you go through this shit for as long as I've been ALIVE has been hard enough.
Seeing you hit this point again, three fucking years after we BOTH almost kicked the bucket for the first time, is too goddamned much for ME to take.

i'm having
i'm having a lot of trouble with love right now
i am so sorry
i know it's being misplaced

That's the problem.
Kid, that is the fucking problem right there, and you have no goddamned idea how much it hurts me to see you say that.

go on

Heh.
Good to see you're listening.
But that's my fucking point.
Listen, I don't give a shit WHO you were in the past, none of that matters right now.
Can you look inside and tell me that you can TELL who you are RIGHT NOW?
Beneath all this shit.
Just let me know, can you fucking differentiate who you are from what you aren't? That's step one.

just barely
there's a little glimmer somewhere buried
just a little. i can barely feel it
can't give you any details sorry

That's fine, that's absolutely fine.
Hold on to that.
Okay?

okay
Okay.

Heh. Good to see some punctuation, kid.
Listen, where can we start with this that won't throw you the fuck off your newfound footing?
Can we start by talking about the pain or something?
Shit, I dunno, I don't want to push you too far.
Give me some pointers, kid.

Define "pointers"

Read the rest of the fucking message, I know you skipped it.

Okay, keeping footing. (had to retype that), sorry.
Um... i'm just going to be blunt
i just wrote a blurty entry have you seen it

Kid, capitalize. Fucking capitalize.
Even forced control over a little thing will help you stabilize there. Okay?

Okay.
Have you seen it?

No.
Do you want me to read it now, or check out the headlogs?

Read it please. Maybe you'll see something I missed.

All right, give me a minute, kid.
...
Fuck, I want to reassure you but I don't want it to sound like canned fucking nonsense.
I won't even waste my time writing examples.
Just know that if I had the words, I'd give them to you right now, to help you through. To light things up a little.
But I don't, and it sucks.
Let me read that entry, hold on.
Kid, did you fucking read this YOURSELF?
Because this is EXACTLY what I'm trying to tell you.
Here, let me quote:
"I am terrified when people love me, or want to get close to me in any way."
"I haven't healed at all; the wounds keep getting deeper."
I'm not going to fucking read anymore because I swear to God I am going to cry if I read you apologizing to me for trying to kill yourself even one more goddamned time.

i'm glad i wrote that down sheesh
thank you whoever wrote that

Yeah, no shit.
Pull yourself together, kid.
Blast from the past, huh?

heh. yeah.
I'll capitalize, sorry.
That actually helped.

Good! Fucking great. Now let's talk straight for heaven's sake.
What the hell happened with Infi?
Don't chicken out on me, I know you can talk about this. Be cryptic if you have to.
We need to deal with this shit, don't make me pull another goddamned "Drowning" session on you here.

i might not be able tto capitalize is that ok

Yes, kid do whatever the fuck you need to, just talk to me, please.
What happened-- let's word this shit better-- that made you so fucking suicidal? What happened that made you realize "I'm hurt, I'm not healing, I can't deal with this?"

dissociating
woek up feeling wrong and dead tired
knowing something is broke
i'm not sure i honestly do NOT KNOW

Kid you know SOMETHING and it is right there in that fucking journal entry.
Let me spell it out for you, ready for this shit?

Yes, just hrury up, i think i'm sliping.

Fuck, just hold on there kid, please.
Here, here's the fucking problem:
YOU WERE ABUSED.
Can you read that shit?
Here, let me type it again.
YOU WERE ABUSED, IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED, AND YOU ARE ALLOWED TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT SO YOU CAN FUCKING HEAL FROM IT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YOUR DAMN LIFE.

I KNOW
ONE OF US KNOWS, OKAY
JEREMIAH KNOWS,, THAT'S WHY HE'S HERE
JULIE KNOWS TOO
YOU KNOW
CHAOS KNOWS
GENESIS KNOWS
EVERYONE KNOWS EXCEPT ME
i'm sorry.
I I can't seem to look right at it

I know. God damn it, kid, I know.

Here, I'm inviting Mel over.
Does that help?

Fuck, sure, let's figure this out.

070213 12:26AM

Laurie, what can I do.
If I had the money, I'd pay for the surgery myself, I swear. I'm so sorry.

Surgery? Wait, fuck, is his dysphoria kicking back in on top of this shit or what??
Wait, hold on, don't listen to me, I'm a fucking mess.
Kid said you wanted to talk. I'll be right there.

I might need to tell you my idea in a separate window...

Sure, hit me.

The only thing I can think of, and I think it would work if we could figure it out, is to smelt the splinters back into a whole person. It probably won't be the same person, but at least it will be whole. That's why I'm asking about fire.

I figured as much.
Don't know if the kid would be too keen on the idea, but it makes sense.

Doesn't matter. Most of the splinters probably would hate the idea, but you have to ask what's best for the system.
And these splinters do not seem like the best thing.

I know, I'm just concerned as fuck about what it would do to J.
I'm really not sure if he could handle having all those sharp edges shoved back into his head at once.
That's kind of what we've been trying and failing to do in small amounts for about two years now.

Can he handle the alternative?
If you've been trying in small amounts, then maybe try all at once.

I really don't know. You're probably right.

It's going to take some planning, though.
And a safe place. You have to make sure that no one will interfere.

I'm sure Infi will lend us his bubble if we need it.

Also, it's not shoving them back into place. Smelting involves melting it down and then recasting it into a new shape.

Good point.
What shape'd you have in mind, then?

Have you tried that?
A heart.
Seems like the best fit for this kid, anyways.

Heh. It does.
And no, we haven't tried actually "melting" the splinters into anything, mostly because I'd have no fucking idea HOW.
But you've got an idea, which is more than I've had concerning this.

You have to have fire/heat/lots of energy. Jo might be able to help, because lightning can deal a lot of instant heat.
But I think it might actually take the red slot being filled and then everyone from the other slots doing everything in their power to smelt the splinters down, and then shape it while it's hot before it forms into the wrong shape.

You know what.
We might not even need fire.

Why not?
Also, you have to gather every single one of the splinters together. If you miss even one, the problem will likely not go away but could even get worse.

Shit, then there's a problem already, heh.
We have NO idea how many there are. We haven't even been able to count them yet.

Then work on that?
It might be difficult, but at least it's a place to start. Also, try not to let them know what's going on. At least a few of them aren't going to be happy.

We are. It's hard enough cataloging all these bastards downstairs.
I don't think they're capable of knowing either. Not unless J knows.

Then don't let J know?
Sorry, I might be starting to slip. I'm trying to stay here, but after a certain time a flip switches and it's difficult for me to comprehend much.

Hey, if you need to go, then go.
I'll handle this. I usually do.
You have done MORE than enough and I appreciate it a hell of a lot.

Are you sure you can handle it without me? J's in a pretty bad place right now.

I'll do what I can. I promise.

That doesn't answer my question.

I guess it doesn't.
Listen, if I need help I'll get some. There are people waiting in the wings should I need them. That's a guarantee.

Where?

Infi, Chaos, Lynne, Genesis, the usual gang.
Shit, you should have seen last night, we had everyone helping out.

I wish I could have been there.

Why's that?

Because maybe then this wouldn't be a problem anymore.

Ah. Yeah, maybe. It'd be nice.

I just remember the feeling of channeling you and Chaos. It was so weird but good at the same time. It felt like we got somewhere with the kid then.

Heheh, yeah, I agree 100%.
I think we did. He thinks about it a lot.

Do you remember it?
I'm curious. When you were around, you told me no wonder the two of us didn't get along in person. We work on completely different frequencies.

Vaguely. It's a little waterlogged, haha.

I can always tell when you're around because your energy is different than everyone elses.
I'll never forget what Chaos feels like.
Sorry, I'm getting all sentimental and happy.
*sappy

I'm chuckling at that typo.
But shit, yeah, Chaos is INSANE.

Well I guess it's different because we're both water types so we just kind of meshed.
It's like when the river pours into the ocean, you can't tell the types of water apart anymore.

Makes sense.
I'm just... fuck. Not used to that sort of depth. Not like that.

What do you mean?

I've been around CZ since then.
More accurately, when he's been around J.
And I'll tell you what, I can barely stay in the room sometimes.
It's you water people, I swear, you and your inner oceans.

It's not quite the same, between he and I and he and J.
I think it's similar, but not the same.

You have no idea.
Yeah, the reactions are similar.

No, I don't.
I miss that , sometimes. I really wish I could bond to Q like that because it's the most beautiful thing.

Heh. I'll have to tell him you said that, if you don't mind.
...They've been having some trouble recently, to say the least.
Breaks my heart really.
Don't you ever get like this, y'hear?

Like what?

Like J is right now.
Doubting every bit of love in his heart because he's fucking terrified of what he's been told about it.
I don't even fucking know.
He's a mess and it breaks my heart.

I have Q as my anchor, so even though things get bad I don't think that they will ever get that bad.

Shit.

What?

I'm glad to hear that, Mel.
I'm just really torn up about this.
Whoa, emotional honesty from Laurie, talk about a rarity.

I'm glad I could witness it.
And I can see why you would be.

Yeah, it's rough.
Sometimes I really, really doubt my ability to keep him safe anymore.
Talk about an existential crisis.

Yeah, since that's your entire duty.
Just, don't give up on him.

I won't.

I don't know that it was exactly like this, but I had a lot of trauma I was dealing with from the first 18 years of my life. Even though nothing seemed to change for a long time, Q did not give up on me. He kept telling me the things I would never hear from other people and it wasn't until I got out of the environment that made all of the noise and gave me the wrong impressions that he was able to get through for more than a few days at a time.
Seems like something similar is going on.

It does.

So the only permanent solution is getting out of that house and then you continue to tell him that. Until then, just keep him alive.
I'm sorry I can't help out more with that.

S'fine, I know that's important.
I'm just scared as shit because I swear, his family hasn't said a fucking word to him about this stuff in months.
Yes, there are triggers, but all the real nasty shit is in his head now.

His family is not going to help him.
Wait, I might have understood him wrong.
Them not saying anything can actually make it worse.
It can make J think that he's making stuff up and that they were never actually as bad as he thought they were, so then he's the horrible person because he thinks badly of them when he has every right to think badly of them.

Aha, good, I thought that was an issue.
Good to see we're on the same page.
He's already thinking that.

I know. I went through the same thing myself.
They might have changed now, but that doesn't mean that at one point they weren't bad people.

He has a very hard time understanding that.
Ironically, his brain seems to be very black and white.
"If they aren't bad now, they were never bad at all."
It drives me fucking bonkers.

Nothing works that way.

Yeah, I know.

You can't even sketch without shades of gray.

CZ is real messed up by it too because he deals with it personally every fucking night.
I like that comparison, btw.

Share it with him if you think it will help.

Will do.

I seriously do need to go. Please feel free to keep talking in the same window, as I would like to check the message in the morning just so I can know what you've talked about.

Sure thing.

And as always, let me know if there's anything else I can do.

I will. Thanks again, really.

Anytime. Just...don't let him die. I don't think I could handle that.

I swear on my life that I won't.
He'll be here in the morning.

Thank you for doing what I can't

Same to you, friend.

2:31AM

070213 12:35AM

Whoa, wait, sorry, is this a new window?

Ahaha, yes it is, you fucking idiot.

Yeah it is, but that's fine.

She said stay in the other chat box.
Oh, hey Mel. Sorry to interrupt.

This works better, it's fine
Can tell you apart better.

okay.

All right, so where are we picking up from?

So tell me what's going on.

Mel, did you make any progress with this kid?

Uh, what do you mean by progress?

Well I've been trying for the past fucking half hour or so to get him to at least ADMIT that he's in pain for a legitimate reason.
Haven't quite gotten there yet.

He's talking to me, which is more than I've been able to do.
In the past, anyways.
Even if he hasn't admitted it, I can tell he's in serious pain.

Good, that makes two of us then.

i told you laurie SOMEONE knows abot the pain but theyre hidden deep i think

The only thing I can think of is that kid needs to get help from people who care. I just don't know how and I'm looking for anything.

you care yorue helping

Kid, she means someone BESIDES her and I for once.
Also.

People who care and have the ability to get you out of this situation and to real progress. I couldn't support you in the way you needed.

You said Jeremiah exists because of this shit, that he knows and I know and basically EVERYONE fucking knows why you're suffering right now EXCEPT YOU.

Who is Jeremiah?
I know I've heard his name before, but I am drawing a blank.

Downstairs guy. Pinkish. Fucking terrified of women.
We just brought him upstairs last night, hoping to get him the hell away from what's perpetuating HIS chronic state of paranoia.

And he exists because of what exactly?

Sexual abuse.

DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT
SHUT UP.

YOU SHUT UP, GET THE HELL OUT OF THE KID'S CHAT.
J, get back here.

trying.
hold on

And the PTSD from that is causing the suicide urges/attempts/whatever they are?

yes

Sorry, I'm not familiar with the jargon and I don't want to call it the wrong thing.

there i said it are you happy
no its okay

Yes, bottom line is, he's hurt as hell and it keeps coming back to haunt him.
Honestly I've been crossing my fingers hoping he wouldn't crash like this again, but I guess it was only a matter of time.

Have you considered getting the PTSD treated aside from the other issues?

yes weve tried all the time.

It's okay, I'm not going anywhere. My research is actually paying off. I've been reading the archive, so I'm familiar with what was recorded between 2003 and 2011.

Really? Haha, see kid, I told you not to delete that thing.

i guess

Please don't. It's helping me more than you know.

i mean i cant remember it anyway so

Believe me, I'm keeping it up there.
Held off quite a few attempts already.

What can I do? I just feel so limited in my ability to help, but I want to help.
Laurie, if it gets bad enough, would you be able to call for help? Like calling 911 if it came down to it?

Fuck, if I had to I'd saw off my own damn arm if it'd help him.
I can talk on phones. If shit gets that bad, I'll do it.

Apparently, you can ask for someone who is crisis intervention trained and they'll approach it in a much better way than the cops would.
Has it gotten that bad? How bad has it gotten?

I'll make a note of that, thanks Mel.
It's... he's playing with suicide methods now. Kind of testing it out, y'know.
Got me freaked the hell out is what.

Because staying in that house is not an option. Not with the way everyone in that house acts.

stop telling people

J, someone needs to know.
And I am probably the only person in the world downstairs that cares enough to be here and not write you off as a complete nutcase/something that can't be treated.
Sorry if I'm addressing the wrong person. I'm not familiar enough with people up there to know who is talking when.

no, j is fine, i'm still here somewhere.
i'm a splintered mess of jumbled pieces but i can still hear you underneath it all

Which is good to hear, kid.

Yes, it is.

Listen... fuck, I don't know if I should say this.
Don't give Infi the cold shoulder because of this shit.
Just please, don't.
Chaos is taking it hard enough.
I am too.
Don't pull this shit on someone else.
All right?

laurie i dont know how NOT to right now
im sorry.

Fuck, you said ONE of you knew what the deal was, can HE at least try and sort through this shit without ignoring that it happened in the first place??

I am trying but there is a VERY fierce buffer on and it is VERY hard to type.
Look, I'm even capitalizing, how's that?

It's a good sign, kid.
Is that you, I assume? J?
"Mister Iridos," should I say?

I'm a bit lost.

Haha, yeah, that's me.
Sorry Mel, give me a moment love.
Laurie I know what's up, I know what happened, I'm personally not bothered by it.

You got it.

Problem is I am one little tiny piece of myself right now, if that makes sense.

It does, kid, believe me it does.
At least YOU know.

I think I got lost at "Don't give Infi the cold shoulder"
Everything after that I don't understand.

Heheh, sorry 'bout that. I'll clarify in a sec.
J, tell me you at least KNOW that there IS a problem, even if half of you insists it "shouldn't exist?"

Also, I read an incredibly relevant thing from the old xanga today.
Let me find it.

Really? Pray tell.

Also, yes, sorry I was in another window, yes I know there is a problem.
The second half of that is tough.
I'm not sure where the weird mindset came from, let me try to word it:

It's from this entry: https://prismaticbleed.dreamwidth.org/246018.html
Mainly this: "That's not enough anymore. You know what really made this hurt? You know what really drove this point into my ribs? Every night, you ask Chaos if he still loves you. Every goddamn night for as long as I can remember. And you don't say it out of habit-- you honestly fear that his answer will be no, because you honestly believe that you're not worth loving after all the hells you've managed to struggle through. God, Jewel, that man's soul is permanently connected to yours and he chose that, five years ago!
...
He is not going to change his answer, ever. I am not going to change my answer, ever. Until you accept that, until you learn to genuinely forgive yourself and realize that you are NOT a bad person, we are not going to get anywhere. You may think it's your biggest weakness anymore... but your heart, as paradoxically innocent as it is, will always be the strongest thing about you. You know what I mean."
Emphasis on the second half.

Hold up, geez, let me read that.
Oh my god, I JUST referenced that entry at him ten minutes ago.

Haha.

ahahaha wow
WOW
universe is being loud, wow

Yup.

um. where was i. explanation.

Where the weird mindset came from in not wanting Laurie to say things.

"I was badly damaged a long time ago, but I convinced myself it was my fault, because my abuser AND my entire social network essentially told me that "I should want that sort of thing to happen to me." So I perpetuated it because I was CONVINCED that I "needed fixing," even if I was terrified and in pain. After so long, I believed that lie I told myself, except now, I'm too damaged to tell what is a lie and what isn't anymore."
That is me TRYING to put this main problem into a coherent paragraph?
In response to you telling me to "acknowledge this shit" earlier, Laurie, excuse my language.

No one should want that sort of thing to happen to them.
Ever.
That is rape culture and it's disgusting and pervasive and horrible and it's one of the most evil things to ever be on this earth.

THANK you.

This society needs fixing. You may need fixing, but you do not need to be fixed in that you feel like you need to want that sort of thing to happen to you.

but it's it's true though
they all told me it is true

I think what needs fixing is the damage that happened from it.
IT IS A LIE

what is

No one should want to be raped.
That is not the truth.
No one should be expected to want sex.

she was fixing me there is something inherently wrong with me if i didn't seek that out msyelf
i have to i'm wrong if i don't

Kid, shut the FUCK up if you're going to keep spouting that nonsense.
That is UTTER BULLSHIT.

I don't believe you.

Where the hell did you get that perspective from???

No Laurie, I don't think he should shut up.

J, not Mel, sorry.

I think that we should address this.
That perspective comes from most of the world, Laurie.
It's disgusting.

...Sorry. Honestly, I'm losing my cool here.
Go on.

Who was fixing you, J?

julie mostly
ththen 2011 happened and

What was she fixing?

fuck i dont want to talk abot it

You have to.

ghgkds

J, fucking hold on, you can do this.

This will never get solved if you never talk about it.

i dont want to look at it
im not supposed to look at it

Look at what?

tell it to go away
the thing
things that happened

Who is talking right now?

someone??
someone under the guise of "j"
pieces.

Shit, we're at this point again.
God damn.
Keep talking, sorry.

Laurie, what's going on?

He's too damn compartmentalized.

I'm not sure I understand.

He's got this mindset that he needs to keep himself pure as ever, so anything that "threatens that" gets chucked in the splinter bin.
Break off that memory, forget it ever happened.
He KEEPS DOING THAT and frankly I didn't realize to what extent it's been happening until the past year or so.
Too damn late, sadly.

So these memories got chucked in the splinter bin, but the PTSD from it is still around?

Yeah. It's just attached to them instead.
So when he's faced with a problem, we have two outcomes:

So then why is J considering suicide?

Because mister "I'm untouched by everything!" can't keep faking it anymore.

Also, is there anyone in the system that has a fire element or can smelt things together?

It's getting impossible.

Aside from J.

He used to be that person, haha.
Now I don't fucking know. I'll have to look.
But as I was saying, two options.

Please do. I have an idea. But tell me your options.

One, ignore the existence of any and all pain and problems.
Basically, that's why we get fucking NOWHERE with therapists.
The "pure J" fronts and is all "hey doc, I dunno why I'm here, I'm untouched and spotless, never been sad a day in my life!"

And two?

Option two is to stop lying.
But he can't do that, by his self-inflicted function as "the pure one."
So the splinters come out instead.

I'm not sure I quite understand.

Because those are the parts of him that DO remember, and DO hurt, but he refuses to acknowledge their existence.
So right now we're talking to pieces of his psyche, not the whole guy. If that makes sense.

Yes, it does.

He can't "be whole" UNLESS he accepts all that shit and heals.
And he fucking WON'T DO THAT.

But are things still getting through?

Yeah. It registers, somewhere. I

Can he hear what we are saying?

Fuck, sorry.
I've noticed that it does.

That what does what?

Things get through, even if the "real" J isn't out front.
So yeah. Deep down he hears us, even if it'll only "register" later.

Find me someone who has fire or can smelt things. I guess metal or glass might also work?

that was all me and fire is tied to red no one else has it yet

See, told you.

What does his boss deal with and what are the splinters made of?

His boss deals with snow from what I've seen, snow and dreamdust.

splinters are me
made of me

Can you tell me what everyone else deals with?

little bits and peices like tat poem someone wrote a long LONG time ago

Shit, uh, some of us aren't sure yet but this is what I've got:

Anything would help.

Me: Space, used to be lightning
Leon/ Markus: Ice
Julie/ Ryman: Shadow
Chaos: Water
Genesis: Light, air (sometimes)
Lynne: Sound
Nathaniel: Plants
Infinitii: Space
And J's Heart as far as I'm concerned.

Who is Ryman and Markus?

Ryou and Marik, they go by different names in headspace.

Oh, okay.
Does anyone deal with metal?
Or molten things?
Also, is J himself a splinter?

yes, finally someone gets it

Wait, wait wait wait.
I thought-- really?

So J no longer deals with fire?

yes, duh laurie, i wasn't even alive a few years ago, you know this.

Shit.
And no, no he doesn't, not since he left RED.
He says it "feels wrong."

So no one deals with fire.

No one that we know of, sorry 'bout that.
Jewel might. Or whatever her name is.
But I don't know if she's capable of surviving within headspace.
She's old and VERY context-locked.
Downstairs people, y'know. They're a mess.

What about Jo, Spine and Xennie?
She may not need to?

I think Jo took my lightning when I gave it up.
Spine's... shit, she's corporeal now, and a dragon. Maybe she can do fire?
Hell, she's close enough to the RED slot anyway. I'll have to check in with her.

Can you please?

Xennie's steam as far as we all can tell, haha. Not sure if that'll change in the future or not.
Sure, hold up, let me ask Lynne.
We're getting something, but it's not exactly "traditional fire," to quote Lynne.
She'll work on it.

What is it?

It looks like fire but it's not the burning kind. Too orange, really.
Red fire, the stuff that we need, is locked into that slot.
Someone keeps trying to manifest there but there's not enough of an anchor for some goddamned reason.
If he'd stick, it'd probably help a hell of a lot.
But honestly I think either J or Infi are locking it. Probably J, with the splinters and all.

Is there a way to get him to stick long enough to make it work?

No clue. He might need a name first. Keeps insisting he'll "find the right one soon enough." He'd better hurry his ass up, then.

i tried to name him but he said no

I know, I was there when it happened.

Who?

the red guy, whoever is trying to move in there
i tried to name him but THEN
i thouht "what if that slot needs to be empty"
so maybe im keeping him aout accidentally i dunno

Fuck, if you are, that would explain so much of this shit...
Have you asked Infi?

Why would a slot need to be empty?

pepole
people, me and infi maybe
i was thinking, "what if i need the red empty to move into, so i can interact with people"
but laurie and infi said that's me breaking musyelf into smaller pieces again?

Was that when you were purging all the color out of your White?
Then yes, don't do that.

Can only the red interact with people? Also why can't you hold multiple slots?

oh oh oh i remember infi told me something today?? and someone else laurie were yuo there

Hold up, let me answer Mel, sheesh.
No, J was thinking that in being White, he had to "cut himself off from everything." Infinitii has since clarified that that is the "polar opposite" of what White actually is as a color here.
We can't hold multiple slots because of how the System works. The Spectrum, whatever.
Headvoices each move into a role. One role, to protect everyone else. Each role has a color.
At least, that's what I get out of it. The whole damn thing is weird and mysterious to me.

What did Infi tell you?

he said hehe said that "white and black hold part of ALL the other colors"
so i don't need to move from slot to slot, i can just be white WITH red, and that'll be okay.
mostly it's just making sure i don't go all crazy and say "i have to be colorless and empty!" which is bad but i've done it.

Then listen to him.

I think that's where our problem tonight started, actually...
J, am I right?

um
what

Listening to Infi.
Or should I say, "misinterpreting him."
As fucking usual.

I was NOT misinterpreting YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT SHIT WAS

Ah.

Whoa, goddamn.

laurie help

Kid, I am RIGHT here, what is going on?

fssfsfs. fff.
Slipping, a little. You hit something there.

Yeah, no shit.

Okay. What did you say?

I said I read that goddamned entry.
I know that whatever the hell happened to trigger that meltdown, it was because of Infi-- or rather, how you were perceiving him.

Which one?

Am I right, or am I right?
The newest one. He threw it at me an hour ago.

Where is it?

Jeepers it is REALLY hard to answer that without someone screaming.
It's on Adakias. I didn't even get to read it yet, I'm not sure what it says.

It's about everything I'm trying to get you to admit is what.
Whoever the hell wrote it knew what they were talking about, I'll say that much.

...Oh, oh okay, wow.
First sentence was enough to make my brain go "WHOA STOP READING"

Want me to paraphrase then?

No, I think I got it.
I still have memory access even if it's vague and informational.

I just read it.

Did you now.

Yeah. Doesn't sound like J.

I don't think I wrote it. I mean, I'd know if I did!

Yeah, no shit.
But you said you know what's in it, roughly at leats?
*least, sorry.
Sounding like Roxy Lalonde here.

Well you are my beloved moirail you know.
Anyway, yes, I know.
I was with Infi before things went over the deep end, actually.

It sounds like J is not the one who wants to take his own life, unless I'm reading it wrong.

I really don't. I love everyone up here too much to do so, if nothing else.

Then who wants to?

Whatever part of me holds the pain.
I try not to pay attention to that part.
Which, unfortunately, causes more trouble than it may be worth?

It most certainly does.

Told you kid, you can't sweep the scars under the rug and pretend that somehow has rewritten the past.
I know you tried.
Insert meaningful glare here.

Yeah, I know.
I was desperate.
Still am, I guess.

Then stop trying things that don't work anymore.

I guess I'm too desperate to accept that it ISN'T working?
That's a hardwired process of mine, actually.
"Keep trying, one day it'll work!"
Then I'm three years down the line with no progress, running a circle into the floor.

It's your indomitable hope, kid. That can be fatal, you know.

You can still break it, you know.

Too much of a good thing.

I know, to both of your points.
I guess I'm just unsure what path to take now.
Especially since I keep hiding pieces of the past from myself.

You can keep trying to fix it, but that doesn't mean you have to use the same solution.
Go back and read your archive, for starters.

I've been trying to, here and there.

That seems like it will help tons.
It's helped me understand why things happened the way they did.

It's difficult. I keep stopping because I'm honestly terrified of remembering some things.
It feels like the only reason I'm NOT dead is because I've forgotten most of the past decade.

You're not dead because people up here love the hell out of you, and we won't let you die because of something as fucking stupid as this mess.

Why?

Why I'm scared of remembering?
Or what?

Why do you say that the only reason you're not dead is because you've forgotten most of the past decade?
Are you really alive right now?

I am.
But I'm not... not as alive as I could be, I suppose.
There's a lot of stuff tying me down. Keeping me from flying, if you want to use that analogy.

Kid, why are you so damn afraid?
Does it honestly ALL tie back into the Julie days, if you wanna use that term for it?

Not entirely.
Most of it is because of how I reacted to it, as I said.

I seriously think it's that house. Just listening to a voice message from the mother actually sent me into an episode. I can't imagine having to live with that.

The convincing myself that I really WAS broken.
Oh geez, I forgot she did that, I am so sorry.

And then add to it the Julie stuff and it's actually a miracle the kid's still alive.
It's not your fault at all.

I keep trying to tell him that.
He doesn't believe it yet.

Keep telling him.
It may seem futile, but it helps.

I won't stop 'til the day I die, that's a promise.

Even if it doesn't seem like it.
And I will keep telling him too.

And then maybe I'll come back as a ghost and haunt his ass if he hasn't straightened out yet, haha.
Thanks.

Pfff, see this is why I love you.
Both of you.

Well hey, you can't really die. The few times we all thought you did, you came over to my head. Don't know how that works, but use it if you need to.

You really don't give up on me, do you.

I have my ways around, and out.

Not for good, anyways.

Kid's looking out for me too, what can I say.
Hint hint.

Who?

J.
I do believe we talked about this too, boy.

About?

Looking out for each other.

Specifically a certain fucking incident the LAST time you tried to pull this suicide shit on me.
We've talked about this.

...
would you really do that again.?
you know
the
dying thing

For fuck's sake kid, if it would save your life, then yes.
Otherwise, hell no, I told you I'm sticking around.
Don't you die on me either, I swear to God, I'm not the only one that loves you and that is NOT selfish, don't you fucking dare call me selfish for saying that again.

Besides, Laurie can't stay dead.

I love the hell out of you kid, it breaks my goddamned heart to see you like this, because I KNOW that three years ago I could have stopped this on a dime.
Yes I fucking can.

Not if J needs you.
And how could you have stopped this, Laurie?

...I hope that's the case.
Before, we had a face to the problem.
We had Julie, and J KNEW she was wrong in what she did.

Yeah, but did you know about the problem like you know about it now?

Then fuck-all happened, and now JULIE'S the one with a sane head on her shoulders, and J is fucking CONVINCED he's the real one at fault here.
No.
Ironically that's what made this worse. Now we KNOW, and his mind can't comprehend it or something. It keeps getting twisted.
But personally I think this muck needs to be trudged through before we can move on.

How did that happen?

Which part?

The switch.

With J feeling like he's solely responsible?

The switch from Julie being sane to J convinced he's at fault.

Because Julie only joined us because she KNEW she had been wrong to do what she did.
Somewhere down the line, though, J became convinced that the only reason why he had hurt at ALL was because he MADE it hurt. That he was responsible for "turning everyone else into the bad guys."

Ah.
Also, it should be right about 222 over there. Not sure what is means, but it seemed like it was important to point out.

isnt' that how hurt works though?
oh that is important yes thank you

No, kid, it isn't.
If I cut you, you bleed.
Whether or not you decide to acknowledge the injury isn't going to make it disappear, or cease to have happened in the first place.

What is the significance of 22?
Right.

222 is a nice number
i like triple digits they make me feel less awful.
like "hey kid you're doing all right! here's a little sign to reassure you"

Heh.

Then remember it.

i will
a little confusing but i'll listen
laurie

What?

did i do something wrong
i feel like i did something really bad
and i feel really bad and sad about it
i dont want to hurt people

Kid, if you've done anything to "hurt people" today, it's not your fault. Not like that.
I'm only in pain right now because I care. It's called empathy.
You're not "hurting me," for the record.

okay.
but infi
i
did i hurt him?

No, fuck, he's right here and he says no.
"You didn't hurt me at all," there, that's a direct quote.
Capisce?

hehe yeah.
no really i do.

Good.
But you're hurting though.
Badly.
Do you remember why?

its guilt.

Guilt for what?
You didn't hurt him, so check that off your list.

oh
no its
im sorry i cant say it.

S'okay, I know.
Do you want me to keep talking?

maybe.
not sure what i need to say right now, laurie.

I'm just trying to get you to forgive yourself, even if it's just for tonight.
I want you to be able to sleep without fucking crying, or being terrified of what might be waiting for you there.
Kid, that wasn't your fucking fault.
It never was and never will be.

yes
it
is
it is my fault an d you know it

What's your fault, then?
Are we even on the same fucking page?
Because it sounds to me like you're blaming yourself for something you...
Oh.
Shit, I'm sorry.

no its okay
i know what youre thinking
and i wasnt thinking of that
but maybe i shold have been.
i think thats when everything started to go downhill?

Infi agrees that I should "bring up June."
As in, the drowning session.
I daresay we've had this conversation already, in different words?

different words different contexts laurie please

No it's not.
Holy shit, sorry, Infi's trying to talk.

about

About earlier this evening, obviously.
He says he's sorry, as he "didn't think that would happen."
To which I say be fucking careful, Infi, you know the kid's fragile.
Aaand he's still sorry, maybe even moreso.
Fuck, this guy really was yanked outta your ribs, wasn't he.

shush laurie let him talk

Really now?
And who will he be talking to, dare I ask.

me
j
in a minute
let me get through.
sorry this is difficult

No problem, kid.
Take your time.
I kind of want to talk to you right now, for sure.

Okay.
I think I'm here.

Good.
Now I do believe we were discussing misplaced guilt.

Yeah.
It's a tough subject.
And an old one.

Let me cut right to the heart of this, okay?
I understand where the guilt is coming from.
It's residual.
That shit's gonna be hard to scrape off, I won't deny that.
But kid, you KNOW it's not true.
Don't you?

What isn't true?
There's a lot of gunk stuck to my soul concerning that subject, I've noticed.

I think we all have.
All right, let me ask you this first.
Do you feel like you're abusing people?
Because you're NOT.
Is that thought still lingering though?

No.
Not at all.
And that is why this is so difficult for me.
There is NO VICTIM ANYMORE.
My brain refuses to acknowledge that word either, with how it refuses to acknowledge pain as "unwanted."
Which is another big problem, seeing as my mind chose THAT word to describe it...

No shit.
But it makes sense to me, kid.
From what I've heard lately, you DO want pain.
You want pain really fucking badly, because to you, pain is something you understand.
Right? You sure as hell don't understand this.
I know that much.

It scares me, really.
And I'll be honest with you too.
I'm looking for pain because it's concrete. It's definable. People outside of myself will acknowledge it, if it's bad enough.
Since I can't get the guts to admit pain on my own, I'm hoping that if I'm damaged enough, someone else will force me to admit it then.

I daresay you've already been damaged enough, kid.

Not according to my brain I'm not.
And not according to some people downstairs I'm not, either.

Fuck what they think, seriously.
You do NOT need someone else to "validate your pain" in order for your suffering to be real. That's bullshit.

Is it really?
I can't tell if it is or isn't anymore.

So I've heard.
But you're being kinda hypocritical here kid.
You're looking for outside validation because obviously, some part of you WANTS to be able to accept this shit. Because guess what, once you do that-- bam, you can start to heal from it.
Can't do any of that shit if you won't even look at the wound in the first place.

As I said, yeah.

Did you? Sorry, I'm tired as fuck here.

Really?

Fuck yes really, I've been at this for at least three goddamn hours.
Thanks to you freaking the hell out of me last night with your goddamned Google search history.
Seriously, J, what the fuck.
What the everloving fuck.
Do you really... do you really want to die, that badly, when that happens?

Yeah.
I've attempted before, you know that.

'Course I do.
...
meaningful pause.
Infi's not taking this well

Doesn't he know?
He's got Black-slot access to the memory banks, doesn't he?

He says, and I quote,
"That doesn't make it any easier to deal with when it happens again."
He's never fucking SEEN you like this, kid.
Infi's new. He didn't live through 2010. He wasn't here for 2012.
And frankly, this is the worst I'VE seen you, in some ways.
Again, he's not taking this well.
I think you know why?

I do.
But part of me is very pissed off at that fact.

Which fact?

It won't say it. Thinks it's "dirty."
But I know.
It's because he loves me, isn't it.

Bingo.
As do I.
What does your fucking splinter have to say about that, huh?

I'm not going to repeat what it's saying.
You know a lot of these things feel like parasites. With a clear head it's easier to tell.

Could be.
Wouldn't be the first time something along those lines has happened.
Don't you fucking dare blame yourself for it either.

I won't, I know it's not me.

So.
You wrote the toughest sentence, now where do we go from here?
How about to that fucking post you typed a few hours ago?
Which basically admits that-- to say this for the billionth fucking time-- all you're doing here is projecting.
And yes, EVEN in that context.
PROJECTING.
Infi would never hurt you, neither would anyone else up here who loves you like that. NO ONE.
Do you know why?
It's because that shit is INCOMPATIBLE WITH IT.

It can't be, it worked together before.

Did it really?
Did it fucking really??
Think about it, J.

Why do we keep having this conversation?

Because it hasn't registered yet, obviously.

No, no no no, it HAS.
That's the problem!

How the fuck is that a problem??

Because of my stupid black and white thinking. (How ironic is that, too.)
I can't... oh god I did have this exact conversation with you before.

The drowning session, if I would hazard a guess?

Obviously.
But, no, not just that, I've been at this SAME PLACE before.
Like I actually said that same damn sentence.
I remember.

Which sentence?

About the sides.
The stupid, black and white, "all or nothing" fucking sides.
I don't remember the exact words.

Can you find them?
I'm kind of curious as to when this happened and how.

Not easily, no. I'm sorry.
But I remember the gist of it.
It was how I... last year I think, 2012, or 2011, when we started to heal this stuff.
I was talking about Chaos.
And this.
This stupid, stupid problem.
Oh no wait, I found it.

Heheh, I was waiting for that.
Link me up, boy.

December 2011. Relevant. I don't remember that month at all.
"I cannot come to a conclusion here, not when one side is sheer agony and the other side is him."
Same damn problem right now, as hard as it is to admit.

Kid, I said give me the link, please.

https://prismaticbleed.dreamwidth.org/311225.html
I didn't read it yet.

I didn't ask you to.
We'll read it together tomorrow if you want.
Personally I'm starting to think this issue is too big to tackle tonight.
At least, not entirely.
I mean, fuck, it's already 3AM. I don't need you pulling a Johnny-nighter on top of all this.

Oh wow, I remember those.
Jeepers. Those were simpler times.
Wow.

They really were.
Kind of really fucking stupid how I almost feel nostalgic for 'em.
So much we didn't know.
And I was a bitch.

You were not.

I was too, I treated you like shit half the time.
I don't give a damn if it worked, I can't help but think I contributed to this fucking pain addiction of yours.
And I'm sorry for that, if that's the case, because you should find comfort in something OTHER than pain for God's sake.

I know.
I
I'm trying.

Kid, believe me, I know you are.
But it's late, and someone REALLY fucking wants to talk to you.
Would you mind?

Wait, wait.
wait.

What?

I'm in danger mode again. The other one.
"Problems, what problems?"
My brain is honestly trying to ignore the fact that I JUST had a suicidal meltdown over this.
And it's tempting. It's damn tempting.
I want to forget about all of this.

Don't.
I'm sorry, kid, but I can't let you purge this one from your skull.
If you do that, we'll just have to deal with it again later.
And fate might not be so merciful next time.
So to speak.
I wasn't kidding, this guy really wants to talk to you. Do I have a green light or what?

I know.
Maybe that's the stupid lesson I never learned.
Maybe that's the reason time keeps looping.
It's been three years this week, you know.

Three years yesterday, actually.
We actually did pull an all-nighter then.
Fucking hell, I guess time really IS looping??

See, I knew I was on to something when I started writing out the event charts.
Remember, I actually had January mapped out?
I was trying to see if similar things happened on similar dates. It REALLY lined up for a while, then I slacked off...
Creepy, really.
But intriguing.

No kidding.
But kid, we can do that tomorrow.

I know. I know.
Let him in.
Don't give me a chance to say no.

Done and done.

Laurie Uberich added Infinitii Eternos.

There he is.

Wait, you mean he even--???

do you have any idea how difficult this is for me
im working through the ap jewel.

Geez man, I'm sorry, you don't have to if you don't want to. I know it's difficult for you to channel lately.

it wasnt back in april
remember?
do you know why that was

...Because the events of June hadn't happened yet?

partly
partly.
but you weren't so lost then.
remember?

Holy fuck it feels like there's a goddamned angel in the room, Infi what ARE you??

He's made of black energy, it's heavy stuff. Right?

it shouldnt be
thats the problem.
you think i am.
i'm not.
do you understand?

I'm having a hard time.
I feel like someone's about to cry. Is that you?
I do understand, somewhere too far down for it to mean much maybe.

no
j that is the point
it is deep down because that is what this is too
and yes i am about to cry.

I can tell. Emphasis on that.
Laurie, are you getting any of this?

I am having a very fucking difficult time holding mhyself together thank you very much, just talk to him and let me listen.
God damn Infi you are worse than Chaos, I did not think that was possible.

it is
by my nature
i don't keep secrets
if you know how to look.
jewel
are you there?

Yeah, I'm here.

do you understand what i told you?
black energy is not heavy
and it is certainly not evil
you have been misinformed.
deliberately.

Why?

Why the fuck else??? Have you SEEN the conversation we've been having for the past 4 fucking hours plus???
God damn it Jewel they are TEARING YOU APART and they KNOW THEY ARE DOING IT.
I can't fucking let them do that anymore.
I can't.

laurie calm down half of that is not you

Fucking hell, Infi, I need to wear armor around you at this point.
Like literal fucking armor.
...But my point stands, actually.
You're important, J. To us, at least. You've said before that that's enough.
You're an anchorpoint for ALL of us upstairs, and sometimes I think it's the other way around too.
Point is you're important.
And there are people in this system, who don't fucking belong here, who don't like that. You know who they are.
They don't like you, and they don't like Infi, and they sure as hell don't like the two of you working together.
Kid, we are so goddamned close to fixing this. When I look back I can see it.
But "it's darkest before the dawn" and all that, you know.
...
Did you ever have a thing about sunrises?
I know you have sunsets and rainbows and all that, but... not sure about sunrises.
If not, you should.
Because goddamn, we are headed straight towards one.
I can feel it.
Trust me, kid.
Please.
Don't fucking die.

...
I honestly don't know how to respond to that in words. I'm sorry, love.

Then don't.
You're clearer without words anyway.

Infi?

?

I don't hate you.
I doubt I ever did, and I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise.

you didn't.
i can tell.

Good to know.
I'm not sure how to end this conversation.
Infi, what do you need from me?
I think that's the only thing I can ask right now.

nothing.
i do not need anything from you
it doesnt work like that

Tell him not to die.

laurie says not to die, j.

Don't you sass me, you little runt, I'm an emotional mess over here.
thanks though.

you are welcome, laurie.
but j, don't die on me either.

So you don't need anything from me.
Nothing at all.
Even after how I treated you today.

why would i
and you did nothing to harm me jewel.

Really.
You seemed pretty hurt out there before.

jewel
i dont think you understand how i experience emotions.
yes i was in pain.
but it was not offense or injury.

Then what was it?

I think you fuckign know.
shit.
October fucking 2010, J.

what about it

Don't play ignorant with me, damn it.
Not now.
your goddamned suicide attempt didn't offend me and you sure as hell didn't come after me with a knife.
Do you remember what I fucking said?

when

Before I got this fucking scar.
Listen, I don't have the fucking words to say this eloquently either.
Life got bad. Difficult as hell.
I wanted to die, too. But why?
Because I couldn't do SHIT to keep you from feeling like that either.
You lost so goddamned much and you didn't fucking know and... I couldn't do it, kid. I couldn't stand to see you hurt anymore.
Point is the pain wasn't your fucking fault.
Shit I hate words at 3AM.

you love him too.
that is what you are trying to say

Yeah.
Yeah it is.
100 fucking percent.
Damn it, J, I'm sorry I pulled that suicide shit on you back then but please, for the love of God, don't... please don't do it again.
I don't want to be selfish, but damn it I love you, and I don't know how the hell to deliver you from this pain anymore.
I'm doing what I can.
Just stay with me.
Please.

Laurie.
Laurie, sweetheart, let me quote something at you.
I wrote this yesterday.
I'm so damn tired. Most days I want to just... leave everything.
But I can't find it in my heart to leave them. I never asked for them, but so help me God, I cannot fathom ever actually rejecting them.
There you go, guys. Put that confession aside for a rainy day, when I'm about to jump off a roof or experiment with sharp objects. I can't abandon you. I won't. Even when I'm all but dead, you guys give me a weird sort of hope. I mean, hell, there must be a reason you're still around me, right? Even after all this shit.
It's not as if you've ever been tied down, after all.

thank you.

For?

for reassuring me.

Damn it, I was trying really fucking hard not to cry.

don't. don't do that.
don't shut it off if it's honest.

Apostrophes, holy fuck, you must be serious.
Heh, fine.
But no one look at me for a minute, I've gotta deal with this shit.

I won't.
Infi, were you really worried about me not following through on that promise.

yes.
you're still fragile yet.
like a bubble
but with the world inside you.

Sounds more like you, man.

then you are a prism.
does that work?

sure as hell it works.
goddamn rainbows everywhere.

How many injokes was that, loev?
Aha, typo, forgive me.

heh, i needed the laugh.
And it was quite a few, kid. Quite a few.
Infi, are we done here? It is really goddamned early.

...
essentially.

It's not like you to hesitate, what's the deal?

i don't want to cause him to hurt.

Then don't.

it's not his fault it's my pain addiction
there i said it
look at me,, it's all my fault after all
you dont think i ever think these things through cause i dont

J, get back here, please.

jewel if you are that desperate to heal then i will help you however i can
but it is very, very difficult if you keep doing this.

why
doing what

Forcing pain into the situation when it is not inherently there.

...God damn.

Jewel, I am aware you have had this conversation before.
I have spoken to Chaos. I have been WITH Chaos, WITH you.
You know just as well as I do that there is nothing heavy or evil here.
You are putting it there.
And that is the problem.
I will not deny that there have been corruptions of similar things in the past.
I respect that. I understand that.
But it is not so black and white, Jewel, even literally so.
Laurie was right in mentioning rainbows.

they're a symbol of hope
chaos is responsible for that.
there was a night with raindrops
i
my heart really hurts right now

it should. This is important.
Sorry. Still kind of teary over here.

and i'm the one with walls up, go figure

Do you want me to break them.

i
yes?
no yes and no
god infi what is this inner conflict
i'm afraid of emotional intimacy
that's the exact sentence that popped into my head
sound legit?

Personally I'd find it hard to believe with the stuff you do with Chaos, but lately, it sounds legit as hell.

You're scared.

i just said that

There was a deeper meaning to that word.
What exactly are you frightened of?

you
people
anyone who gets close
sometimes even laurie
its
not something i like to admit
poor jeremiah, is that where all this goes?

Probably.
So you live in constant fear of being hurt again.
Shit, kid, we need to somehow get you over that. It's eating you alive.

i know and being so afraid is giving it total power over me which sucks
i don't WANT to be afraid of it
but damn it laurie it is terifyign to me
terrifying
that
i dont even remember why
i really dont

I do.

no i mean
im so damn numb to it now
i really dont want anything to do with it anymore
ever
but it feels like running like this is jjust making it so much worse?
so i keep trying in the wrong ways and now i'm TRYING to get hurt just to "get an idea of what i'm actually supposed to be doing"
but every time
ever goddamn time someone DOESN'T hurt me, i get so much more confused
infi i know you love me but i'm scared
i'm so scared because people have used me in the past and it's all i can remember
geez even downstairs all someone has to do is tap my shoulder and i will scream
because i am that damn terrified of a single touch turning into hell on earth
its not even conscious.
infi this is your damn level
god i love you
i am so sorry about this.

Kid, it's okay.
We know this is difficult as hell.
But thank you for finally 'fessing up to what I've been trying to pull out of you since last night.
This, my friends, is progress.
Step one: acknowledge that there is something that needs to heal.
Took long enough.

It took as long as it needed to.
That is how these situations work.

Looks like it.

hey guys
if thats good progress for now can i go get some sleep?
or at least try to

Yeah, please do.
Just try not to reset your goddamned memory first thing in the morning, okay?
That's kind of the last thing we need right now.

this is so weird though
this all happened back in 2011

Yeah, it did.
But with a different alien.

speaking of
I have been treating him terribly lately.
He does NOT deserve the nonsense I put him through night after night.
When did this even start?

A while back, kid, but he doesn't hold it against you. Believe me, we've talked.

I've spoken to him as well.

And?

And he does not hold it against you.
He only hopes you can recover well.
But he loves you as much as I do.

Aaand there's the craziest sentence of the night for me, holy shit, I need sleep.

Laurie, I fail to see how that is so hard to believe.

It's not that, dude, it's the fucking MAGNITUDE of it. God DAMN.

Don't you?

...Different way.
Diamonds over here.

Still just as significant.
Guys, listen, I'm sorry but the family's up and threatening me again.
They don't exactly believe me when I say I'm trying to talk myself out of a suicide attempt, and they sure as hell don't believe in you two...

I don't give a shit, I've spoken to her before.
Get to sleep, kid. We're here for you whenever you need us, all right?
Meaning always.

Hehe, okay.
Also, I... well. Hm.

What?

Just considering delivery is all.
I really need to log off, but before I do, let me say this:
I don't care what my brain says during the waking hours.
Right now I am two skips and a jump away from poet mode, and I can tell you with utmost certainty that there is no doubt in my heart concerning the reality of both your lives.
I would be dead right now if it weren't for you, Laurie.
I'm not the only person who can attest to that.
I love you, Laurie.
Thank you, with all my heart, for never giving up on me.
Ever.

kid, it is the absolute least i can do, and that is saying something.

Well your punctuation is gone, that's... unusual.

infi is... there's too fucking much emotional overflow in here, promise me you'll log out before inviting chaos in because i swear to god i will die.

Will do, love.

love you too, kid. 100 fucking percent.

And Infi?

you don't need to say anything, j.

hholy shuppets not with that sort of response i dont
good lord

what did i just tell you.
this is fucking hilarious.

you are using punctuation
get rid of it

Never.
nah just kidding man im 100% gone

infi, listen, i still need to say something

Yes?

fff this is crazy
but this, this is what you're talking about and what i'm trying to say hey apostrophes.
i'm stupidly happy right now this is nice
but
i believe you.
everything you said earlier
let's leave it at that because it's late
and people are scary.

point taken holy shit

so yeah.
infinitii i love you too
thanks for that
i'll talk to everyone more later
hey mel whenever you're reading this thanks to you too youre awesome
much love because hey i'm actually here right now
aaand now i'm gone.

sign out formally you absolute moron

Never.

Haha, fuck you too man!

I'll do the honors. It's 4:34AM.

God damn that is late as hell.

Well, Infi, the honor is yours.
Log us off, my good man!

As you say, "done and done."

I'm trying to type and all I can feel is phantom blood running down my arm. It's seriously freaking me out.
Thanks, weirdly unsettling alter-man that I can't see yet.

(not j)

I've noticed something that I do that's very, very stupid.
I use art as a metaphor for life.

Personally, I don't draw. But Jewel will never stop drawing. Others will never stop writing, or brainstorming, or playing music, or finding ideas in every little thing they see. No matter how apathetic I am towards their creative prowess, it will not crush their spirit.
However, that fact has no bearing on how I feel, and that is simply "nothing."

Yesterday, one of us visited TRiPPY's new website to look at all of her old iMAGNi art. Her work from the early 2000s has the exact same magical vibe that our work from that time period does. When Jewel sees the Gens, she thinks of the J-Monsters, and she loves it. TRiPPY's old art was bold, colorful, and unique... and it wasn't perfect. Yes, there were perspective errors. Yes, the anatomy was off. But did we care? No. In a way, we loved it even more because of that imperfection. It was creativity and imagination spilling onto paper through ink and paint, brightly colored dreams captured in the only way they ever could be.
Looking at those pictures, many of us felt a deep sense of wonder, admiration, joy, love. It reminded us so much of our own old creations.
But some of us saw that same art and felt despair. "Look at what she did, so long ago," they sighed. "We never had the guts to draw like that. And what little we did draw, we lost or destroyed." Those few voices wept with regret and sorrow, feeling utterly unworthy to be viewing such beautiful snapshots of the past, haunted by darker thoughts that overshadowed everything else. Don't you remember? Art is a waste of time. And all you do is draw, so you're a waste of time, too. You're worthless. You're nothing. Just like your art.
Over the years, those are the voices that eventually won. It was simply a matter of volume and quantity. There were too many of them, all the time, repeating that same damning mantra. You'll never amount to anything. Stop wasting your life. Grow up. Despite the doubts weighing us down, we feebly chased our dream during high school, desperately holding on to the same red threads this courageous woman left behind for us, creating our own world from jester hats and gemstones... but even that faltered. Someone new appeared, who did not care about art, and she quickly led us into destruction. We fought back, but then college was at our doorstep... and someone else lost their mind.
Everything seemed to end at that moment, when dreams and nightmares were forced to become one grotesque abomination. It was the unholy fusion of hope and despair, a thing so unavoidably horrible that we abandoned everything in an instant, choosing oblivion over destruction. It had all happened so fast.
One moment, we stood at a canvas, holding a pencil in our hands and joyfully wondering what we would create next, now that we were pursuing our one and only dream...
...and then a woman walked in, stood before us, and dropped her clothes.
That was the day we died.

Since then, our artists haven't drawn much. They've tried, but it took years for them to begin again, and when they did, their heart was often no longer in it. Their work had been tainted irreparably by the intrusion of an entirely different reality, one dripping with tar and blood. Dark memories of the past that had been specifically buried were suddenly rearing their ugly heads.
The artists had known, as the fabric hit the floor, that they could no longer live once the dam broke, once the walls fell. The only reason they had been able to create at all was because this deplorable muck had been graciously hidden from their awareness. Now, it had burst into their world of color and light, shredding their very life with its merciless pink nails, and we all knew it was the end.
The artists fled underground, and we began to awaken from the shadows... slowly, irreversibly. Since then, this life has been ours, but now things seem to be shifting again.
The problem is, what other direction could we possibly take now?
So yesterday, curious to see what people would say, I wrote up a quick FB post about it.

"Looking back, I remember a time when I wanted to be an artist. I had dreams that I chased with childlike joy and enthusiasm. Now, I've given away or destroyed virtually everything I've ever created, and I'm not sure if I have any dreams left.
Is it better this way? Is it worse? Where do I go from here?

However, it wasn't until the replies started coming in that I realized my stupid mistake.
To those who read those words, "art" just meant "art." It meant drawing, or sketching, or painting. It was a mechanical function, that's all.
They didn't understand that, to us, "art" is LIFE. To us, art=purpose. Art is synonymous with joy and hope and wonder.
We weren't saying "we've stopped drawing, but we used to love it; is that right?"
No, in all actuality, we were saying something far more serious.
"We used to find joy and purpose in life. Now, we don't. Now, life is meaningless. Should we just give up?"

So, as you can imagine, the comments we received meant something entirely different in our eyes.
These originally spoke about art, but they've been edited to match our interpretation:

"You can still live! Don't ever give up what once gave you real joy! Your reason to live hasn't disappeared, you CAN find it again."

"I have never seen myself as much of a guru when it comes to giving life advice... so long as you have something to create for, you will always have a purpose, a reason to live. We make mistakes, throw away old work or lose it, and I guess it is our folly but at the same time it still happened, we benefited from creating it and still grew as people and artists."

"Throwing away your life doesn't mean you threw away your right to live. Start a new chapter in your life, and fill it with new creations. You are still worthy of life."

At this point I noticed, as usual, that I had not properly communicated my point.
So I wrote another message about art, which again, I will correct here to the true meaning:
I suppose I didn't clarify: I lost all motivation and desire to live many years ago. But some days I look at the hopes and dreams of others and think, "I wish I could give my purpose in life to them, if it would give them the joy I can no longer feel." There's no desire to continue living myself. I think I'd prefer it if I had no reason to live anymore. I don't chase my dreams anymore because I'm tired of them being "my dreams." I want to give my reason to live away, to someone else who wants to live.
So I guess my real question is: if I find no joy in life anymore, should I even keep on living?

The first response was an unintentional knife to the heart.

"Nope."

I knew they had good intentions. I know they only meant "If it doesn't bring you joy, don't bother with it." That is good advice, in and of itself.
But when you have severe depression and apathy like this, NOTHING brings you joy. Even joy as a concept is unfathomable.
It's like everyone else in the world has a secret treasure box inside, which can only be opened by a special key of "joy." Most people find that key, and they use it to open their secret treasures, which are full of dreams come true and happy endings. Finding their joy allows them to live with joy, as long as they don't throw away the key. It's a normal thing, it's supposed to happen.
However, with depression, it's like everyone keeps telling me "you just need to find your key!" "I'm sure there's a key out there somewhere." "Just try a bunch of keys, I'm sure one of them will work!" when they don't realize that I don't even have a freaking box.
I have a whole collection of keys, that I was given as gifts, that I picked up off the ground. They're beautiful little fragile things. And sometimes I pick them up and stare at them, admiring their beauty, and I cry, because I can't do a goddamn thing with any of them. What good is a key that doesn't open anything? It's useless.
When you're drowning in emptiness like I am now, it's impossible to find joy. Life itself is a box that no key will open.
So why bother trying?

We got two more comments after that one, though.
Our interpretation, again, is as follows:

"Ask yourself why you once wanted to live. What motivated you to wake up every morning? Then ask yourself what that old motivation is doing for you now before you make a decision to end your life. It is no small thing to throw your life away. Make sure that if you do it, you do it for the right reasons."

A strange mixed message. The last sentence especially left a strange feeling in my chest. It's not the first time I'd received such a message, except this time it was unintentional.
"If you're going to kill yourself, just make sure you really want to die."
I know that wasn't what the commenter meant, but again, I'd heard it before, and that's not something anyone should ever say to a depressed person. Of course I want to die. I want existence to just stop dead. All those old reasons to live are empty now, cold and drained and meaningless. They aren't doing anything for me now except fueling the fire of self-annihilation. Life holds no joy or hope anymore. I can't remember a time when it did.
So would that be the right reason to die? According to some, yes.

The problem is, even if I won't personally accept the fact, I'm not the only person living in this body.

Jewel wants to live. Fiercely. She wants to live. She saw that old artwork by her role model and nearly burst with joy.
"Look at this!" I heard her exclaim in delight, as she showed us the original Gen pictures. "Do you understand how amazing this is? Look at the magic! Look at how many dreams had their beginnings in this little picture!!"
Her eyes were sparkling; she was in tears. I just stared at the picture. It meant nothing to me.
But to her, to many others, it was the spark of life...

There was one last comment on that FB post, one that was oddly inspiring despite the fog. I'll leave it as is.

"get new art materials and start your NEW JOURNEY and your art WILL EXPLODE! TRUST ME ON THIS!!!!!! sometimes we have to get rid of the old to make new messages on our canvas! BE PREPARED TO GROW!!!!!!!!!!!"

There is truth in that, this we know. But there is also fear.
When Jewel was showing us TRiP's art yesterday, Jay was simply staring at it, caught somewhere between delight and despair. He recognized the life in it, the fire of creativity, the joy... but in that same art, he recognized the stamp of death, the annihilation of everything he held dear.
If Jewel lives, Jay dies.
If Jay lives, Jewel dies.
That's been our dilemma for too long a time, ever since that first hellish second in the college art studio. Art became the antithesis to Life, and the only life we knew for sure was inside.
Jay became the guardian of our inner world, triggering the growth of so many other lives, spinning global webs of thought and emotion. Through his hands, headspace blossomed into more than a dead white emptiness, and he filled it with color and love. But he could not exist outside of his world. In hands of flesh and bone, he could not live.
Jewel, however, still lingered somewhere lost below, protecting the reams of paper her heart shone through. She could not set foot upstairs-- to her, headspace was still forever a blank canvas, something she would not touch for fear of losing that infinite potential. Instead, she moved blood and breath, and created tangible art.
Tragically, the two have been at odds for years. Jewel cannot create her art if Jay's world exists. And Jay cannot maintain headspace if Jewel's work exists.

Start your new journey, the comment read. But only one form of art will survive to move on, and explode into reality like a firework.
The other, the "old," will need to be destroyed...
Be prepared to grow, they said.
But we know, all too well, that a tree cannot grow unless the seed dies first.

I apologize, but I have to attend a graduation ceremony right now.
Jay is planning to enter Central during it, if at all possible.
I do not know if he will succeed, or even attempt. But he will try.
It's all we can do.

(not j)

Again, I don't remember most of today. My clearest memory is sitting on the floor of my mom's boyfriend's house, aware that I was incredibly nauseous but not feeling anything, looking at the clock that said 8PM and thinking-- shocked-- "but I just got up!"

I do know that I had a nightmare about being abused, again. It was unusual because it's the first time I've ever dreamed about men hurting me, but they were both fully clothed and didn't speak my language. They also did not seem to understand how badly they were hurting me, as they kept laughing amusedly at my screaming and begging for help, seemingly oblivious to my pain. It was scary because they weren't malicious, but they were destroying me.
It was also traumatic because I had a female body in the dream, which is rare, and horrific. Waking up, it made me realize that's why I can't have or deal with hetero relationships of any sort. They frighten me in the exact same way. I don't know why. The idea of... "having parts that fit" is the most disgusting, horrific, frightening, and abominable thing I can imagine. I won't elaborate on that any more.
I was told not to think about my dreams though so I won't.

The angry one came out again and yelled at my grandmother just now. I don't know why but I feel awful because this keeps happening; that voice hates my grandmother, and it will scream and yell at her whenever possible. It wants her to die, just as much as it wants me to die, and that worries me.

(not j)

I SWEAR I KNOW THERES A GUN IN THIS HOUSE SOMEWHERE IM GOING TO FIND THAT FREAKING THING AND I SWEAR I AM GOING TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS THROUGH THE WALL DO YOU HEAR ME YOU FILTHY SLUT DO YOU HEAR ME????!!!!!!!!!!
I AM GOING TO KILL YOU. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU FOR ALL THE EVIL THINGS YOUVE DONE, YOU DEMON. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU. YOU FILTHY SLUT. YOU DEMONIC FILTHY SLUT. DAMN YOU. DAMN YOU. GOD DAMN YOU, YOU SLUT, YOU WHORE, YOU WITCH, CURSE YOU FOR EXISTING AT ALL. I HATE YOU, DAMN YOU TO HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, uh, I don't know what that was either.

SHUT YOUR MOUTH YOU WITH YOUR "YEAH UH" YOU THINK YOURE SO COOL YOU SOUND LIKE A WHORE YOU SLUT GO KILL YOURSELF GOD DAMN YOU

(j again)

That, right there, is why I don't want to type anymore. When I write on paper, switches like that are blindingly obvious, and rather disturbing.

A clairvoyant woman I know on FB just posted an update saying, "I never ever realized just how thick and heavy the "old" energy is here in PA." How true that is, sadly.
I feel so trapped here, especially in this house, where old tar clings to the walls and ceilings like dried blood. That might be why my brain also keeps "wanting to go back to SLC." To reiterate some old entries I remember reading, it's not Utah I miss, it's the travel. I was happier in the airport than I was during my entire stay in SLC, if my written recall can be trusted. Regardless, I know I want to get out of here, to somewhere where the air and energy around me doesn't feel like molten lava.

On that note. Did you know that that's exactly what happens to headspace energy when it gets corrupted, too? It gets thick and sludgy and ugly. I've seen that happen to Black, White, and Red energy, but nothing else... which is good. I don't want to see that happen to anyone else.

Also, let me bring up this point while I'm fronting and not someone else (a rare occurrence as of late, sadly), as it's a very dangerous topic, but it needs to be dealt with logically and without causing any more meltdowns.
The body has gained a lot of weight since we left Utah. We stopped fasting, and suddenly the body got rather... big. It's traumatic, for me, which is why I don't like to front, although I have to, to keep things in line. Problem is, that dysphoria makes it hard to anchor, so any reference to the body, or the cause for its largeness, will almost instantly cause one of the underground voices to shove me out of control. This happens 9 times out of 10, as well, so to speak. It's rather hellish. Ironically I have no problem with the body in and of itself. How it looks and functions does not bother me whatsoever, and when I am anchored I am not bothered by it in the slightest... however, when I am anchored I still don't consider myself to be in the body. (It's why I have trouble using it.) The minute I make eye contact with a mirror, or if someone refers to me as the body, I flicker and sputter out. I'm not sure if I could fix that, let alone if I should. I'm still trying to find someone upstairs to be a permanent downstairs fronter (within reason), but the only person who actually identifies with the form is Jess, and not only is she highly malevolent, but she takes control of the body whenever she feels like it the way it is.
With that in mind, my main concern is that we can't run from her triggers. Like it or not, the body needs to eat, but eating is one of our biggest negative triggers on any front.
Some voice-- I'm not sure who-- views eating (not even gluttony, just eating in general) as an unforgivable sin, on the same level as lust. "They're both deadly sins, and they both involve consuming and destroying, so they are equally sinful," it insists. I tried to remind it that Wrath is also a deadly sin, but it spits back that its wrath is "justified" by our sinfulness, and therefore it is permitted. On that note, it explains that-- in its opinion-- all the other deadly sins (sloth, envy, greed, pride) stem from "me trying to pretend I'm someone important"-- sloth from "not wanting to do what others want me to do," envy and greed from "being a selfish witch," and pride from "me trying to make an identity for myself like I'm something special." I find this all somewhat confusing; it seems that it sees everyone else upstairs, good and bad, as one individual-- but then again, I may be guilty of these sins after all. I can't quite tell who I am anymore, and that saddens me.
Anyway. As far as food is concerned, I'm not sure who is eating what, how much, and when. I can't remember the last time I ate anything, which does not surprise me; I typically have nothing to do with that function of the body. Whoever does, though, isn't handling their job well. I'm hoping Emmett can become our permanent on that front, if at all possible-- he knows what makes the body sick, and he avoids it judiciously. Whoever is in charge of eating now... well, they don't care whether or not the body gets sick. Sometimes I wonder if they eat harmful foods for spite. I'm aware that my boss has tried to "call me into driving" several times during such occasions, and I'll suddenly find the body about to eat something very harmful, at which point I will immediately walk away in unsettled surprise.
Most importantly, once we leave the kitchen, the eating voices disappear. They ONLY show up in that context. I've realized that a LOT of the "voices" (not headvoices) we're struggling with are location-locked, moreso than context-locked. This means that if we are at a restaurant, the food voices might not show up at all, but the instant we set foot in the home kitchen, they're out and angry. I know a few very, VERY cruel voices used to be locked to the bathrooms, but they've since left (thank God)... unfortunately I know there's at least one locked to my bedroom now, which makes sleeping rather frightening at times.
I've written quite a lot here... I'm not sure how much is relevant to the point or not. Ah well. If I can only stay present and up front, I'm sure we can start taking steps to deal with this. All those rogue voices are tied to my brain somehow, so when they get crazy, I can't exactly anchor anywhere. We're working on it.

Personally, right now I'm trying to heal the resurfaced and surprisingly deep "fear of death" that is permeating the mind. The body's been in a lot of pain lately, and downstairs life in general has been highly stressful and rather despairing for all involved, not just us. So death is constantly hovering over our heads now, the sort of death that is unpredictable and painful, lingering and inescapable. We have no fear of suicide, or sudden death. We have no fear of what lies beyond. The fear I'm facing is the fear of "punishment" through death, as it views death as "divine retribution" for "not having lived life well enough." That alone is a dangerous mindset; if we suddenly contracted cancer, we'd blame ourselves for it within this mindset, viewing it as "God's righteous judgment" for some horrible sin we apparently committed.
I don't like that mindset, and I'll admit it. The idea that "God" is some sort of wrathful being, ready to strike down "evildoers" at the slightest mistake, bothers me greatly, but it's an old and rooted thought up here, one which I am having trouble removing.
That reminds me... I'm still reading When Rabbit Howls, and I'm currently on page 104, where a quote VERY relevant to this topic is spoken, in such a manner that I had to read it twice to convince myself it hadn't been stolen from our own head:
"Did I do something wrong? You look at me so funny. What did I do wrong? This is a lot like being back home. I was always scared I'd done something wrong. I spent a lot of time being scared that the mother would see the special badness the stepfather hinted we were capable of. Was it so horrible that he couldn't say it out loud? Why didn't I remember it? Why was he at me, everywhere I looked, trying to do things to me...?"
That is the EXACT mindset we had as a child. I don't know where that mindset originated from, but it's a VERY old and powerful one, and it's lethal. It's the exact mindset that gave Julie and the Tar to do what they did for years... and it's the same mindset that perpetuates all the self-abuse we still suffer through now.
It ties into the food problem, too. Every time we are forced to eat, the underground voices call us a "slut," saying we deserve to be abused or get deathly sick for "what we've done," and this thought is exacerbated by the grandmother constantly insisting that we're "eating too much, that's why you're fat," no matter how we try to make her happy with our choices. This lack of freedom to choose, AND the lack of an acceptable result on any end, makes Jessica furious and usually concludes with her attacking us or whoever else is in the room.
She did that ONCE while we were in SLC, and that single moment is probably my greatest regret from our entire time out there.

Let's not dwell on that any more than we have to though. No use putting extra energy into a problem. I'd rather focus on the solutions.
I'll try again tomorrow with different methods. I'm sure that one day we will succeed in tackling this problem for good, and we will lose this extra dysphoric weight, which will make it so much easier for us all to function on a day-to-day basis. Right now things are indeed nightmarish, but I don't lose hope. I don't ever lose hope.
True, I've had MANY people tell me it's wrong to hope, even spiritual people. It's cause me a great deal of distress, I admit. But ultimately, I just think of Madoka, and I take my definition of hope from her. That's what I hold on to. I will continue down this path for as long as I have to, healing everything I can.

On that note, I think I owe OFF an entry of my own, soon. That and Space Funeral. I can barely believe that it's literally only been a week since I became involved with both those games in earnest, and despite having already completed both within such a short time, they have had such a great impact on me. I owe them both a lot.
I have to smile, actually. I felt a funny sort of energy resonance with The Batter yesterday (or the day before?), like maybe he could visit the System if he wanted to. I think that's pretty cool, especially since it's occurring without that funny "relationship requisite" our teenage fronter inflicted on all the midslots. Does this mean we no longer have to worry about that? If so, I'm extremely thankful. That was quite a barrier for quite a while.
Uh, plus Dedan is somehow now an injoke? Last night I was exhausted, and when I was talking to Chaos, for some reason my brain kept thinking of Dedan instead of whatever else I was going to say, which made for some hilarious slip-ups (Dedan is awesome and stupidly pretty by my standards though so I'm not complaining). Chaos tried to "do the teeth thing" Dedan has going on (since he can reform his face obviously), but when he tried to talk like him, we realized that "dude Laurie is Dedan!" So now that's an injoke too, unsurprisingly! We got her to put on a coat like his and do this hilariously sassy pose, but after that she cracked up and I needed to sleep anyway, haha.
Still it's nice to be able to just joke around with them again, after what a mess I've been... which is exactly why those two games deserve my thanks! They're the only things to have broken through in a long, long time. I love everything about them both-- the music, the plots, the characters, everything. It's great. I keep smiling about it.
Here, I found a ridiculously adorable doodle of Enoch and Dedan so you can smile too.

Despite all that, Chaos and I are having a little bit of trouble upstairs still. Since I've been emotionally detached for so long, the mind and body are mistranslating a lot of things now. He can't get close to me without triggering a PTSD reaction sometimes, and risking someone else coming out instead of me. It hurts to see him so scared and hesitant around me, so I'm trying to fix this... unfortunately it doesn't seem to be something I can solve overnight, at least not permanently. I'm just so thankful it's nothing major, though, compared to what we've been through in the past.
I also gave some thought to relationships in general today, and why I can't have two-person-only relationships. Example: if I had to "marry my best friend," I'd have gotten hitched to Genesis, not Chaos-- but the thought of marrying Genesis is just straight-up not right for our relationship dynamic (especially since he's my BFF). Same with Laurie; I adore her, but I don't even dare to consider us in a relationship because that's not how we roll. My interactions with all three of them are completely unique as well. I can't get Genesis' sparkling, bright-eyed vibe from Chaos, nor can I get Chaos' oceanic sincerity from Laurie, or Laurie's steel-edged compassion from Genesis. I need all three of them to function. Chaos is my matesprit, Laurie's my moirail, and Genesis is somewhere in the middle. Rio and Markus are both more "friends" than anything, and always have been. Infinitii is on a level of his own, haha. Bottom line, though, is that I can't expect any one of them to take the place of anyone else, or to give me what I get from someone else on top of what they already provide. I can't force that, either, because sometimes I feel guilty and "obligated" to have a "traditional relationship" when downstairs thoughts get to me. We're under no such obligation and never will be. I suppose I just need to remind myself of that, in light of how strongly those outside influences are affecting translation upstairs... I know what I feel, and what is true to me, and under NO circumstances do I "need to force myself" to do something that feels utterly wrong just because someone else asks, or expects, or implies. I'm still having a hard time with that, sadly.

Infinitii has taken up temporary residence in the necklace I bought him, which is brilliant. It's a resin bubble with salt crystals in it and 16 crystals on top, which is really perfect in every way. He adores it, and during the day, if I look down at it I can see him inside, smiling up at me from on top of the crystals. I'm not sure how he does that-- I don't think it counts as "ghosting," so maybe it's a sort of mirror to his headspace bubble necklace? That feels viable. It makes sense, too, as an energy anchor. I wonder if anything else can do that?

It's getting late, and I lost so much time today that even though it's 1AM currently, I literally feel as if I've only been awake for 2 hours. Ah well, I'm used to that already, I suppose.
That is part of what I mean to close up with, though. I've been keeping tabs on all the other "voices" up here, and it's becoming easier to differentiate one from another, according to how they act, what triggers them, etc. I have confirmed that there are at least two male child voices, neither of whom are Kyanos (poor kid seems to be gone for good atm), both of whom I have handwriting samples of... and there IS a "promiscuous" voice that evolved in response to all the old abuse, which is something I have suspected for a LONG time but only got proof of recently.
My point here is that I'm understanding this better now. "Knowledge is power," they say, and the stronger of a grip I have on this, the easier I can deal with trouble when it appears, and the easier it is for me to stay rooted and conscious when things get hectic. If I don't understand what's happening, it is very easy to throw me off, as this sort of upstairs mania is excruciatingly draining when it hits if you don't know what you're dealing with.
Since we're dealing with some very old and very dangerous things here, I can't be too careful. The more I learn, the better.

That's all for tonight. I personally apologize for whoever has been updating in my stead recently; I'm tempted to make a rule that people must announce their name before they type now. Different colors could be intriguing, too... maybe I should host a unique Xanga session sometime soon, just see what color these voices come through as, if any. Plus I heard that Laurie is trying to get everyone in the Spectrum to learn how to write physically, so maybe we can attempt that tomorrow. We'll see.
As for now, I'm off to work.
Light and love to everyone. I think we need to be reminded of it right now.

so this just happened.
i hope it's readable i'm too sick to edit everything

one - two - three - four - five - six

here's more relevant off art for you.

in other news i've found that i'm afraid of natural death
not murder or suicide, as those are intentional
but natural death feels like a punishment
like i didn't live well enough, i wasn't good enough
so now my punishment is to die

it's a stupid thought
but there it is.

i'm dizzy and i feel like vomiting, real nausea for once
can't tell if it's nerves or a medical problem
i have this weird swollen bruise on my leg and it really hurts
i've broken my vomit reflex somehow i can't throw up anymore i'm too tired
i hope emmett is okay
i hope emmett is real

i don't know who is fronting anymore
i don't know who i am
ever
anymore

this isn't jewel though i know that much for sure
sorry for clogging this page with my depressive rants
i guess its gotta come out somewhere

still its stupid

and i wish it would all just
go away.

if i die i want to die in my sleep.

I feel like screaming right now, that or eviscerating myself. Preferably both.
I know it's just senseless underground rage bubbling up but it's hard to deal with.

I had to eat today, and the very awareness of having all that space in my abdominal area is both traumatic and infuriating. Not "infuriating" as in "I'm really angry," but as in "I will set the world on fire and murder everything before this fury is abated in the slightest." Yeah, it's bad. But I get this a lot, now.
It's not me, though. It's the girls underground. I recognize this already. I can only thank God Laurie got me out in the open before Razor grabbed the nearest blade, because she was itching to.

There are things in my stomach that want to vomit and scream and cry and kill and maim and bleed and scream until hell itself tears open. As for me, I'm just sitting here typing, feeling empty and dead and so, so tired.

I am so tired.
No surprise there.
For the past two days I've been too weak to hold even pencils or clothing without dropping them, sometimes. I can't make sense of words, I can't talk, I stare off into the distance unseeing. I'm sleeping between 12 and 15 hours a night again. At least, I think so... it's taking me a long time to fall asleep again, and staying asleep isn't a guarantee either.
The nightmares are back. There was a hack last night, that's all I know.

There's some place about two hours from here that might be able to get me on hormones, at long last. Problem is, all the odds are piling up against me still.
The family is confusing me. They demand I get help, they insist they can't deal with me anymore, they talk about me in whispers behind closed doors. Then they get angry when I open my mouth.
I don't understand.
Maybe they're just tired of me too.

I have had it with technology lately. I don't want to so much as look at it anymore. It keeps breaking and failing and trapping me. I can't use anything online except for this site and (sometimes) Facebook, which I was forced to bring back to "talk to people." That's really the only reason why I'm online right now (plugging an old laptop into the router for two hours every day like a moron). Otherwise, I'd be asleep.

Isn't it stupid, that I got $100 as a birthday present, and as I looked at it I thought, "what the heck am I going to do with a hundred dollars?"
Then I started laughing. Maybe I should have cried.
I don't like buying food anymore because it "doesn't last long enough" and eating hurts too much. So I often find myself forsaking food and eating only one meal a day, just so I can spend my money on something with a bit more "heart" to it. What an idiot I am. Pieces of paper won't buy anything honest or true.
...I feel like a whore. Back when I used to buy commissions, I would always feel like an absolute bastard, handing some prostitute a twenty so she/he can take one of the individuals I adored from afar and give them the love I had forgotten how to express. That's what it feels like for me, buying art. Except I'm the one who's the real slut.
I hate it. I wish, oh how I WISH I could sell all my talents and gifts and ideas, to people who would live them with enthusiasm and ardor. Take it, all of it, and give it the soul I never could. Please. I don't want to have to send my dreams to brothels just for them to feel alive.
And yet I'd rather buy a piece of art than food. I'd rather see a friend's face penned by a stranger's hand than have enough calories for the day. I couldn't care less. I feel like a wretch either way.
And so I stay online, ultimately only wanting people to "like me enough" to draw things "for me."
Isn't that childish and idiotic? But it's true.

At least computers keep me away from the waking world downstairs.
That's too dangerous for me to cope with at the moment.

I'm kind of resigned to death right now. Again.
It's stupid, I know. Only the mad or the foolish are suicidal, or so I've been told. I've also been told that I am both mad and foolish. The girls underground laugh and spit at me, jeering those words over and over, mocking me no matter which side is true. They don't care. Everything is reprehensible to them. I could be a saint and they'd find a way to make me feel like Satan himself for it.
But I'm spending entire days sleeping and staring into nothingness, praying to just cease existing.

I can't remember the last time I was upstairs. Maybe it was only three, four days ago, who knows. To me, that's an eternity and a half. You know this.
Maybe that's why things are falling apart. Perhaps that's a foolish assumption too.
Times like this, I couldn't care less about headspace. When I get like this, they aren't real anymore. None of it is. I can see Laurie's face, worried and on the edge of existential panic, but I don't care much. I tell myself it's fake. It's a lie. Listen to the docs, boy, and take those pills. You deserved what you got. None of it was real anyway.
None of your dreams or pains are true. You're empty. Do what I tell you.
over and over and over again.
i want it to stop.

my grandmother is trying to talk to me again really close to my face and I'm getting the traumatic raection again. the whimspering and scared feelling and shaking and mimnd shutting lfoff.
osyrrsorry forgeitnting how to type;? illl stop now come badck latere.

Isn't it stupidly ironic that my two astrological signs represent the two things I despise the most: possessions and relationships?
I don't know why those two things elicit such feelings of rage and hatred from me.
It's the same thing with thoughts and emotions, bodily needs and physical responsibilities, with a fixed gender and face and name. Quite bluntly, I hate them. I wish I would annihilate them. I want to be empty, unfeeling, unthinking. I don't want to be this stagnant, greedy, bull-headed demon that I seem condemned to be.
I've become so completely distraught by astrology and numerology that I'd give ANYTHING just to delete any connection to either from my state of existence. But that's apparently impossible, simply because I exist in the first place.

When I was a kid, I remember being heartbroken that I hadn't been born in February. Why wasn't my birthstone violet? Why wasn't I an Aquarius, or a Pisces? Why was I stuck with a stupid green stone and this frightening huge animal? It wasn't me. Or is it? Am I really that spiritually immature? Why does that only apply to me?

Is that why I was born with these things? To learn to overcome this deep-rooted bitterness towards them?
All of them fill me with such caustic self-loathing that the very fact that I was born at all is enough to make me seriously contemplate suicide, some days.

Why can't my life just end already?? Do I have to literally bite the bullet and end it myself?
Or will that damn me to eternal hellfire as I was told in my youth?

I don't understand. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so completely devoid of the basic goodness that inhabits every other individual on this earth? Why do I feel as if I am alone in a void, cut off from the presence of God?
Everything feels distant. Everything is fake. All the emotions I show to others are shallow acts, rehearsals, played-back recordings. I hate myself after every one I let surface. It's only when I am hell-bent on burning them all to ashes that I feel neutral again, empty, blank.
Isn't that the ideal condition here? Emptiness, nothingness?

Nothing is wrong, suffering doesn't exist, good and evil are illusions, life is a dream.
These are the truths I hear every day, constantly hammering into my brain until I cannot tell how to live anymore.

I'm so tired of the new age blogs and news sites and everything. There are so many conflicting sources of information, so many pages upon pages of text, every single day, it's overwhelming. I try to read them all, I try to obey them all, but it's become so tiring, I'm not sure if I can keep up. Even saying that, though, makes me feel like Satan himself. How dare you show weakness. How DARE you suggest that you are tired of the truth!
Even in the physical, it sticks. I see these stick-thin vegan yoga princesses with their super-ecological feminist lifestyles and perfect sex lives and whatever the hell else you're "supposed to have" to be that kind of perfect human being. Seeing them makes me feel even more evil and corrupt, because I WANT to be holy and true, but that path doesn't feel right for me? Yet again, how dare you claim that you know better, you foolish sinner. How DARE you go about your heathen ways when the correct way of life is right there for you to emulate!!

I feel dead and hollow today. I don't know how to live anymore. I don't know how to get through the days anymore.
I don't want to eat. I don't want to talk. I don't want to feel. I don't want to wake up.
I want to sleep, and watch, and do nothing but just exist. I don't want a name, or face, or life to live.

I'm so tired of this. I can't remember a time when I wasn't tired.

Even the wish to survive feels loathsome, sinful, wrong. Death is the only holy aspiration left.
Leave this hedonistic body, this cage of bones, this thing inherently cut off from God.
Destroy your self, destroy every speck of devilish individuality you've conjured up.
Become nothing. Cease to exist.

Only then will I feel holy again.

tw: all sorts of stuff, so please watch your step.

Okay, I told myself I wouldn't do this, but I feel too scared and unsafe not to anymore.I had at least four self-abusive meltdowns today alone, and narrowly escaped another one just now by retreating to my laptop.
I unfortunately happen to be somewhat dissociative, so I often "lose time" during abusive fits and recover later only to find myself nauseous, dizzy, and bleeding. It's gotten to the point where I do NOT feel safe alone in a room with myself. Ridiculous, maybe, but it's made life a living hell.

I've been seriously entertaining suicidal tendencies for several months straight now. Attempts have been made.
I've been getting "triggered" by more and more things as well, as I'm losing my ability to cope. I tried to get dressed today and had such a bad flashback from the physical contact that I ended up sobbing and hyperventilating in the corner of my closet instead. This went on for about two hours straight.
The bad voices are back. I'll leave it at that.
I'm starting to drink in secret and have considered more drastic escape measures. It's worrying to look at in writing, but honestly I feel too hollow to really give a shit anymore.
I am finally seeing a therapist but my next appointment isn't for another week, and he's new so there's no actual dialogue occurring yet. Until then, I dread to consider what my mind will put me through.

Long story short... I think I need extra help.
I apologize profusely for asking, but it's the cold hard truth. I CANNOT do this alone anymore, not when "I" have become the most dangerous person in my life.

If anyone is willing to talk, or listen, or offer advice, please message me or reblog/reply to this, if you can.
I may not respond right away; I am awful at communication as I feel I do not deserve to discuss my "fake problems" that revolve around my "fake self-identity." I'm at that point where I really don't care about my well-being very much; I want to sleep or die, but some lingering sane part of me is making my type this nevertheless. So I will try to follow through on communicating, the best I can.

I am very tired but I am also in a lot of pain, and very scared. I will likely be online until it dissipates enough that I can sleep, which may not be until 1AM if I'm (un?)lucky.

Thanks for reading.

This has got to stop.

I just binged and purged AGAIN, first thing in the morning, nice going there.
But I'm so tired of it. In my early teens I was so anorexic I was nearly hospitalized, and ended up being put on meds that made me gain 20 pounds. I was so distraught that I just kept eating, and ended up overweight.
I had little revisits of purging through the years, but my disorders didn't come back full-force until my trip to SLC this year. I was hovering at 110 pounds, trying desperately to lose more, but I was always so stupidly hungry... so what did I do? I purged it all.
I think the most humiliating moment of the trip (that I remember) was when they brought back half a tray of birthday cake leftovers, and when they left for the evening, I ate the entire cursed thing, then spat it back up and took the evidence out to the dumpster. When they came home and asked what happened to it, I stuttered that it had "gone bad" and I had to throw it out. I doubt they believed me.
My disorder was a death sentence though. I had only a few hundred dollars to live on for those three months, and $400 immediately went for rent. The meager remaining amount was for food... food that probably never even stayed in my stomach. On the few binges that I ended up so sick I couldn't vomit, I would collapse into a sobbing, shaking heap on the living room couch and wish I were dead. I don't want to count how many times that happened.
And then I was forced to move back in with my parents in November, and in that environment of unhealthy food, I promptly gained 30 pounds.
I had never hated myself so much in my life.
I'm down to 130 now-- an utterly disgusting number-- but I cannot seem to stop binging. I will literally spend HOURS in the kitchen, eating everything in sight, then vomiting it up. My whole family knows about it at this point, and I'm horribly ashamed, but hate myself too much to stop. I'm a whore, so I figure I deserve this hell. My chest hurts all the time, I can't breathe, and it's getting harder and harder to exercise, with how tired and dizzy I am. Serves me right.
But I'm burning through the little money and food my family has left just because I can't get rid of the screaming tension in my head and teeth. You should see the bitemarks and scabs on my arms now. Better yet, you should see how many cuts I have on my stomach and back now, since I've been forced to use a cowardly razor instead of a dull knife. I hate things that cut thin little lines. They barely bleed, and they don't scar well. Worst of all, when they're that shallow, I don't saw... I slice. I tear at myself like a maniac, until I can't see any skin that isn't red.

My stomach is furious. I want to throw up again so badly, it hurts. I don't want to go to school just to come back home. Why did I have to wake up? Why the hell can't I get over this???

My problems are fake. They're all FAKE. Just as fake as me, this disgusting faggot whore, you irredeemable slut, go kill yourself.
NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

I haven't been updating, have I.
There's quite a simple explanation for that though. Since December started (probably even earlier, but the first week of December is when the serious terror started to happen), I have been an absolute psychological mess, to say the least. I've been fighting existential meltdowns and suicide attempts. I've been destroying relationships and people alike.
I've been staying up late, staring into nothingness, then sleeping for up to 15 hours at a time, never feeling rested. I haven't been eating, I get sick when I do, I'm constantly exhausted, and I'm having trouble thinking straight in school, let alone at all.
I have 58 new scars on my arms.
And to top it all off, when it all hits I simply do not care. I don't.

I am trying so hard to be happy-- for no reason, like a kid-- but it's not sticking. Genesis actually yelled at me today for doing that again. Central has adopted my term of "jester mode" for that manic phenomenon of mine, which first became apparent in like 2004 for heaven's sakes, during our obsession with those very things. Still, the term remains extremely fitting: like a clown, in that mode I pretend all my personal problems are completely solved, and go running around in a bleary rainbow hype until the sugar crash hits and I end up minutes away from being dead. I am still Pagliacci, I guess. God help me.
But yes, I can go for days with a genuine smile on my face and not a problem in the world. I did that yesterday, actually. I wrote a new song for Event Horizon, didn't lose my cool despite my car breaking down on the highway on the way to school (basically my rear right tire blew out and this car had no spare), and overall had quite a brilliant day. But, yesterday I ignored every single one of my relationships. I didn't miss them.
This is why Central thinks my metainomen has mutated. You can't love without a heart, and you can't have a heart without blood... isn't that horrible irony? They're thinking I now hold blood, like my daughter, but in the wrong sense... blood is thicker than water, and when my heart tries to shut him out, then what the heck is it going to do to the rest of reality?? For such a red soul I've been as gaunt as a corpse lately, unwilling to associate with life and warmth anymore because it's too horribly close. I bleed everyone out, I bleed myself out, and all that's left is icy silent death. Even after ten years I can walk out on a person with no regrets, and keep walking.
...Well, maybe that's not entirely true. I've been getting some weird reactive symptoms to flat-out expressing this passive destruction lately.
First, whenever I say I don't want Chaos in my life anymore, that I wish I had never met him, I get an immediate inner response of "you know that's not true." I can fight that feeling as viciously and angrily as I want, but there's an undying sense of guilt when I do so. I don't know if it's overattachment or something real. Either way it's there, whether I like it or not.
Second, I can't seem to let go of Laurie. Only Laurie. I can ignore everyone else in the world, kick them out of my life, pretend they never existed. But even when I'm shoving Chaos out the door, I can't get the guts to do it to her. Still, the biggest thing haunting me with this is the night of Tuesday the 15th. I tried to kill all of them, her included. I came seriously close. It was the first and hopefully only time in my life I didn't care whether she lived or died. And I know why. I know exactly why.

The problems that I have been struggling with for the PAST TWO YEARS (possibly even three at this point) are still 100% intact and unsolved.
Do you remember this entry from April last year? Go re-read it. It's almost exactly what I am dealing with now, to the letter.

Last night I tried to set her on fire. You know, the green one. I had every intention of killing her on the spot. But Boss kept telling me not to, and God threw a few really loud signs at me. So the flames were put aside, and she was tossed out into the cold instead.
Okay, I won't kill you. But I don't want you around anymore. Get out.
It's too dangerous, for the both of us, with you here.

Laurie will not stop insisting that I am able to literally alter and edit time up here, not just space. If that's true it would be the most ridiculously ironic thing ever.
Wouldn't I be the biggest freaking risk to everyone's survival? Do you really want to give a destructive maniac like me access to the rhythm of everyone's life?? Or are you betting on my lingering inexplicable concern for you? Are you betting that I won't run a magnet through the motherboard solely because it will erase you too, if you can't get out in time? Don't you remember when I tried to scratch the disc into oblivion? Just because the real data runs deeper doesn't mean I won't still plunge a sword through it when my eyes are red enough.
Have you already forgotten what I am capable of doing when my emotions completely dissolve? Have you already forgotten that I nearly killed you?
Or do you care too much?
What the hell am I even talking about?
I do not want to be so important to anyone, let alone everyone. I want Laurie and Chaos to be the central players, not me. They're important. I'm tired of mattering so much. I'm tired of mattering.

I'm too tired to write anymore either.

This isn't me. I don't know what this is. I can't see.
Most days now I wish Julie had never switched sides. At least then I'd still have a working conscience.
Now I've forgotten what's right or wrong and everyone is bleeding for it.
I've considered creating another shadow to take her old place, but I'm terrified that the role is already mine.
Or I would be, if I could feel anything genuine anymore.

I'm going to call a therapist tonight, come hell or high water. There's one about a half hour away that hopefully will be able to treat my condition. We shall see.
Something needs to be done, and I'm grasping at straws at this point.

Something needs to change, if I expect to stay alive.

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

@ 06:03 pm

i cannot deal with this right now.
my mom came home from work for once, noticed that i had started self-abusing again (sorry but its the only coping method i have left) and immediately started shouting for me to "stop acting like a baby and grow up"
now my grandfather has joined in and they're both threatening to ship me off to the psych ward again if i don't stop "trying to get attention" because i'm "just being lazy" and a burden on the family
for sanity's sake i have been dealing with this hell for 6 nightmarish years straight
you saw the diagnoses they gave me, but you don't care.
and i'm afraid to tell you that i honestly cant deal with life at this point, when you act like this.
the last two times i slipped too far i was told to pack up and leave.
god help me i cannot deal with this, i am so sorry.

crazy stuff happening upstairs on the way to school.
stream of consciousness log before english class so i don't forget it

- laurie, chaos, genesis and lynne talking upstairs, worried about last night, esp. relapse.
- lynne is angry that laurie isn't asking for help. laurie says that she's just afraid that asking for assistance means she's 'failed at her purpose,' i.e. being my guardian/ superego/ what have you. lynne says that isn't the case, even if I HAVE fallen pretty far, it's not because laurie 'wasn't strong enough.' then lynne says 'maybe this isn't supposed to be your job alone,' reminding her that there are other levels besides purple that need help. laurie gives in, accepts her help.
- cz mention of empathy? 'not feeling' my energy possibly because of a wall or voidout. laurie said she wanted to see if there was a deeper reason for that.
- called leon in, laurie said take us underground, leon said he really did not want to go back there. laurie said too bad. both of them had a 'really bad feeling about this' though
- they go underground and the tar room is empty. just some tar dripping from the ceiling against the far wall. everyone's shocked, leon is fighting back tears, obviously very frustrated as well though.
- laurie tries to go upstairs, but the stairwell goes on forever, she can't warp space 'up' like i can, neither can chaos. they argue about this being relevant to our personal energy resonances for a bit (laurie insisting i have a connection to space), lynne gets angry and tells them to stop, saying that 'maybe he is more tied to blood than anything' because stuff like this keeps happening. laur and cz consider this worriedly then come back in, decide to ask leon if he can just warp us up a level.
- leon is not doing well, he starts saying that 'he has a closer connection' to me than he realized; he's actually the first and ONLY headvoice that started out as a male. so he's kind of a milestone as far as personal genuineness goes. also he has a strong connection to cathedrals go figure. but he's freaking out over the tar on the far wall, insists it's 'bleeding;' laurie says it's just tar but leon insists it's both. this reminds her of the rifts, leon says he doesn't know if there's any connection at all, there might be, but right now he just wants to heal that.
- he runs over and checks where the tarblood is hitting the floor. the drops are 'boiling' as they hit, this makes leon even more desperately furious and he starts trying to rub them away/ stomp them out, when that doesn't work he yells to genesis to help him, 'don't you know how to heal a cathedral?' gen gets confused, says he just inherited his cathedral from his dad, he doesn't know much about him. leon cuts him off and starts desperately trying to 'warp space,' get some spasmodic blue sparkles around his hands but thats it, no manifestation. but he DOES get the floor to flicker-blink white a few times. when nothing happens he asks chaos to help (he can spacewarp), to make something to catch the tarblood. chaos makes a large flower but leon yanks it out of the way quickly, glares at chaos and says 'nothing alive.' then laurie just walks over, summons a bladed discus and sets it on the floor. so the tarblood is dripping into that now, except when it hits it, it 'solidifies' into black crystals. leon was shocked, asked how in the world she did that, laurie just shrugged and says she has no idea what it's doing.
- right around now leon decides to focus and bring them all up to the actual blc. as soon as they arrive, the place is dripping with tar. leon falls to his knees and just starts crying. laurie asks him why he keeps doing that, leon just snaps and says he's 'had it.'
- leon stands up, asks vaguely 'how did i use to take chances?' laurie says she's not telling him, but leon starts reciting examples. then he says he's ready to take the biggest chance ever, doesn't care how much of a risk it is to him. laurie angrily starts telling him 'don't you dare' but leon isn't listening. with one last comment (taking bets?) he kneels down and presses his palms to the floor. there is a flash throughout the cathedral and suddenly leon 'crystallizes,' then quickly warps into it, covers the entire inside of the cathedral in some sort of thick bluish crystal, effectively 'trapping' the tar underneath.
- laurie reacts first, with a 'what the hell did you do??' then starts shouting for leon to 'get out of there' but to no avail. something happened here where chaos spoke up and was trying to say he might have a shot because he was pretty close to leon's color slot (two down). laurie angrily retorted that she was even closer, just one slot up. chaos hesitated, and then was about to say that he was at least nearer my red slot by being further down, then realized that after violet it loops, so laurie is closer there too. he stopped, smiled somewhat bitterly, and said "i guess you really are closer to him than i am." laurie didnt' respond, but she looked deeply concerned for a moment.
- anyway they couldn't waste time, so laurie decided that since leon had just crystallized himself over the tar, that we needed to get julie in here. she called her up and julie came up via the corner stairwell, asking what she needed her for. she didn't look good though-- her hair was a mess and was starting to turn blonde again, and her irises looked 'shattered' between blue and pink. laurie immediately asked what in the world was going on, julie simply said she was 'losing her color,' trying to sound unaffected but obviously deeply disturbed.
- laurie and julie spoke for a bit here, quickly turned into another argument, lynne got straight-up pissed and started shouting at them, 'don't you realize what you're doing?' adding that maybe this was part of the deeper problem; our relationships with each other were kind of crumbling. i think julie asked if a bard could focus on their non-destructive side, laurie said yeah, but only if you overcome the destructive side first.
- anyway julie decided she'd had enough. she got very very angry with the fact that leon had pulled such a stunt, saying that she didn't want anyone else to corrupt like she did, especially not through something as careless as that. so after yelling at him a few times with no answer, she summoned her whip and snapped it at the wall. instead of ricocheting, it 'stuck' like tar itself, then when she pulled it back it actually tore out a huge block of the blue crystal and flung it backwards across the room. when it hit the floor it shattered and leon re-formed from it. he was dazed for a second, then demanded 'what did you do that for??' julie didn't have time to respond though because immediately the tar started pouring out of the hole in the crystal.
- the tar forms into a beastly skeletal thing, fills up about half the room. julie is not happy with this and responds by warping to a pink energy form?? immediately starts fighting it tooth and nail, laurie is obviously stunned. lynne soon joins in, firing orange energy arrows at it. genesis and chaos are standing back for now, understandably hesitant.
- laurie does jump into the fight quickly,
- ('what happened to my color,' tar pretending to be me then xennie, lynne attacks first and chaos flips out, then julie finishes it and essentially says 'this isn't your job.' laurie is still shaken up though, suddenly runs out of room, tells chaos 'watch my back.' heads down votive hallway. tar follows, lynne gets it first, then suddenly chaos calls after it from the other room, has two crystal swords. says 'come and get me,' tar takes him up on the offer, laurie keeps running)
- (weird inner room? door disappears. i'm in chains, weird bleeding eyes. excalibur on altar. laurie asks what in the world is going on, i say i really don't know)
- (chains, 'magic weapon,' warp to empty space? chainlink now, i focus on violet energy, get NEBULA stars, say 'this is the right kind.' give those to laur instead, remind her that 'this is what you're supposed to do.' manifest angel helmet too, give it to her because she asked. sudden warp back to inner room, in chains again, noise from beyond. asks how the heck to get out of there, i say she has to just 'want to leave,' but i think i just warped her straight out anyway.)
- back to middle room, everyone's fighting, stop for a moment when laurie appears, this brilliant violet fire.
- (leon is the one that ends it, fires one bullet, 'that was a warning shot.' when the tar leaps at him instead, he fires some huge explosive shot that WARPS the cathedral into a snowy one, tosses the tar over an edge, then warps us all back to central headspace. leon curls up on the floor shaking, that was an immense energy burnout)
-
- (julie started talking about how she felt like a recovering alcoholic. IMPORTANT tar detail. mentioning the importance of friends to support her, hoped in her being something more than what she was, even when that hellish history was literally staring her in the face. ended soon after that)

I didn't fall asleep until 3am last night, and I woke up with crushing body dysphoria.

Jezebel and Jessica are busy killing each other upstairs. They do this whenever the dysphoria hits; since I bottle up all of it, they feed off it and since they can't express it physically, they explode underground. Hence my entire body feeling like it's pressurized and on fire. I'm trying not to bite or slash anything, but the only other option is catatonia and that feels like boiling now. Exercise seems to only be exacerbating the bone-burning ache too.
I've honestly been gnawing on a metal spoon all morning just to get the tension out of my teeth, and also because when I bite down hard it vibrates and that temporarily 'pauses' my brain so that I forget what I'm doing. Good for breaking this awful stress wave.

I can't be living like this... yeah, yesterday evening I was incredibly happy and full of energy, but it was because I had been researching and typing for hours and nothing forced me to 'identify' with this body.
The moment I have to hold a conversation, or go outside, or look in a mirror, without my mind being somewhere else completely... this shit crashes into me.
I am so sick of 'waiting to live' because I cannot seem to reconcile the fact of my existence with having an uneditable form.

Every time I think I'm comfortable with this body, this crisis happens worse than ever before.
God, what am I doing wrong? What am I missing here? What am I supposed to let go of?
It's terrifying, and I can't tell what's right or wrong.
I know I'm not this body, but the problem is it's hers, and as long as I'm stuck driving it, I don't know if I can escape the recurring existential horror.

I am this close to killing myself in the hope that I'll come back as a boy.

I apologize for updating like this. I've been feeling so much bright energy lately it's amazing.
But I needed to get this darker stuff out of my skull somehow. Ignoring it won't help anyone.

We'll figure this out.

Continuing from last night.
I went over my mom's boyfriend's house around 6PM to talk with the SLC post office and file a lost package claim with USPS, as their phone service can handle the cost of long distance calls. On the way up though, all that blood and nausea took its toll and I could not function in the body without wanting to die. I don't know if it was tar or splinters or what, but I was literally begging God to just kill me because I could not deal with it anymore. So how did I drive to their house? I didn't. Julie did.
Dead serious. She was our last resort; we figured that since she got the least dysphoria she was the safest bet. She comes through very clearly-- not too surprising considering the tar had her demanding "this body was hers" for years-- but since I've de-feminized it as much as I possibly can, now she's getting dysphoria from it, albeit in a non-traumatic way (thank God). But I might have to let her drive more often, on bad days... I don't know, for a long time now I've actually given serious thought to buying wigs, makeup, and clothing to fit anyone in headspace that needs to drive on any given day, with the obvious exception of being able to change our body type. I doubt I'd ever be able to fully explain it to my family if I tried, but if things continue in this manner, I might be forced to teach other people to front on a daily basis...

Anyway. Got to the house, did the phone stuff, and then went on Youtube and brought up some Nujabes for my mom (she's a fan, it's adorable). It was nice to chill out with her for a bit. However then I let her know I was still badly confused about Utah, because I felt I had been a negative influence on Mel and Jacob and I couldn't figure out how. I was scared that I was unconsciously poisoning people. Then my mom gave me a surprising perspective: maybe they said I was "destructive" because my very presence threw off their life schedules, so to speak? Maybe I wasn't "harming" them, but the fact that I was now in their apartment was "destroying" the way they had lived up to that point. She said that if they did want me to stay with them, but couldn't handle the consequences of that, then their frustration over that unconscious conflict was probably coming up as "you were destructive." I don't know, we're both just guessing, but it makes sense to me. I just feel bad, that maybe it's impossible for me to live with other people at this point. I want to be able to support myself, but I'm understandably worried about what I'd do to myself if I were alone.
Lou said I should take small steps though. Don't get a full-out job yet, if I can't handle one-- instead, do something like babysitting or cleaning for the elderly, one or two days a week. Just to gauge my stability, and to get me used to that.
I'm just frustrated myself, with how I psychologically deal with jobs. My mother thinks I have OCD, in that my brain thinks in absolutes: "all or nothing," or either situation can't exist. If I have a job, I can't have a family life, and vice versa. I remember my old supermarket job: for four years, I'd want to sleep as soon as I came home from work, and go back to work immediately upon waking... despite feeling so drained and empty upon returning home (therefore entering a non-work situation), that I'd often have emotional breakdowns prior to my shifts that left me too sick to go in. I was a disaster back then, but my stint with WHF in Utah got me worried that maybe I'm still pretty fractured in this respect.
Around 9PM I tried to leave, but since we had just been discussing Utah and jobs, I unfortunately left on a sour note as I felt I had tainted the atmosphere with complaints again. Upon closing the front door, though, another wave of thanatos slammed into me, and I dragged myself over the car only to collapse at the steering wheel (I had seriously contemplated just aimlessly walking off into the night, but the possibility of human contact cancelled that out). About ten minutes later my mom came outside, and upon assessing my current state, she told me a few things: one, I had all the symptoms of severe depression (which I honestly never would have guessed). Two, I am obviously under a ton of stress, whether or not I'm consciously "feeling" it. Three, my brothers are worried sick about me (they've talked to her about this apparently), and four, if I want to come over later tonight and talk, I can. Unfortunately I have violin practice at church around 6PM, and choir is on Thursday, but I'll try to figure something out, even if it means sleeping over their house tonight (at least it'll keep me away from food and knives).
I just feel dead. My mom is thinking of sending me to a major hospital for an assessment, as none of my past therapists have been able to treat me for long, let alone with any positive results. If worse comes to worse, that might be our only option. I just fervently hope it's not. I just want to heal whatever the heck in me is causing this uproar of old pain. I want this to STOP. I don't want to die at the end of this month.
...I keep thinking of Leon though. He came back to life two years ago, and had to suffer through quite a few disasters before he settled into the system. Maybe that's similar to what I'm going through? Maybe I need to face all this old stuff once more, before I can move into a new role. I'm just so tired. This is all illusory anyway. Why does it feel so real? It's ridiculous.
But I can't seem to handle being physically awake anymore. I just want to sleep, to shut down, to sink into the void. In a good way, mind. That's the only thing that makes me 'happy' anymore... I keep trying to simulate that same emptiness. There are just too many things around me that make me think. Maybe that's why I'm scared of a job, even. I don't want to go back to acting and thinking for eight hours a day again, not like this. I used to use jobs as an escape, to go into autopilot, to shut down and just go through the motions. But it was exhausting, and it devastated my sense of self-awareness, for lack of a better term. I don't want to wear masks anymore.
Speaking of masks, I just want to mention that my mother knows about how bad my dysphoria is and wants to help. Problem is I don't remember if I ever discussed how that ties into my PTSD with her. It just hurts, because I thought I let this go back in October, and then Mel updated and now I can't remember what I said or didn't say and it's really quite frightening. All I know for sure, is that if there are any trust issues, it's with myself. I don't trust myself around people with feminine appearances (body-wise or not), because of the reactions that go off in my brain as a result. I'm afraid of what that brings out in me. We see in others what we hold in ourselves... whether or not you identify as a woman had nothing to do with it. I didn't feel safe around you because of what you reminded me of, what I couldn't seem to escape from, what haunted me day and night. I am so, so sorry for that, but it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry that I apparently failed at communication enough to make you perceive it that way.
I'm tired of thinking about this, my head hurts and I'm still nauseous. I just want to erase all of that from my life, forget it ever happened, ignore it. But that won't solve anything.

...Laurie decided to drive home last night.
For some reason, that was the single most beautifully tragic thing that could have happened at that hour.
Everyone in town had Christmas lights up, and Laurie was just really moved by it? Instead of just taking them for granted, she was really seeing them, and kept incredulously telling me that "aren't things like this worth living for?" Just lights, and colors, and snow, and things like that. Little things. The fact that we were alive and COULD see those things was reason enough to keep going. I don't know, it was just... deeply inspiring, to me, looking back on it. Laurie shoved Julie out to try and get her to understand it, but Julie was only getting bits and pieces, here and there: she was mostly "okay, there's lights, that's nice," with only flashes of "oh.. I see what you mean." Laurie got frustrated at this and went back to driving, telling both her and I this time that we had everything to live for, we just needed to open our eyes and SEE that.
...Then she said the same exact thing Chaos did, back in October.
"Yeah, I know it'd be really weird to have a physical body, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if it meant I could see things like this... if it meant I could be with you, y'know?"
God, that just hurt. Here we have the two people I love more than anything else in the world, telling me that they'd actually risk feeling completely out of place here, not just for the sake of being here, but also for the sake of being here with me. That cuts like a knife to the heart and I don't know how to react to it.
I don't want them to go through that. Selfishly, I don't know if I could psychologically handle it, all of us being so out of place. But... I don't know. I really don't. I treasure my interactions with them upstairs because we can transcend this. I can actually BE who I am in entirety with them, form and all, upstairs. If they came down here, I'd lose that. The thought is just existentially horrific, for me. Could I sacrifice that for their sake? Should I? I have no idea... I'm so confused. I mean, Laurie told me that fronting doesn't bother her anymore because she knows that the physical body doesn't change who she actually is. I KNOW that's true. It's true for me, too. So why do I keep letting the past drag me down?

The past has no power over the present moment. Why do I keep forgetting that? Better yet, why the hell do I keep focusing on the negative?
I need to stop updating like this. It's not helping anyone.
Suicide is only the desire to destroy a false self. All 'selves' we build are false. I know this. But I can't seem to reconcile that with having a life, here. That's why what Laurie and Chaos said to me is so baffling.
I need to remember what Ryou told me... I need to remember all those things. This "personality" thing is so confusing though. Is it weird that I'm tired of being a "person" in that sense? I just want to sit and watch everything. I have no desire to interact anymore. I can't tell if that's depression or the opposite of it, because it's actually peaceful.
Is it even possible to live like this? To be this empty, and not want anything?

It's hilarious how I need to keep reading and re-reading things I've already read a hundred times, to remember them.
“Some changes look negative on the surface but you will soon realize that space is being created in your life for something new to emerge.”
That's one.
“The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but thought about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking. Separate them from the situation, which is always neutral. It is as it is.”
That's another.
“Living up to an image that you have of yourself or that other people have of you is inauthentic living.”
Another,
“Can you look without the voice in your head commenting, drawing conclusions, comparing, or trying to figure something out?”
One more.
“The most common ego identifications have to do with possessions, the work you do, social status and recognition, knowledge and education, physical appearance, special abilities, relationships, person and family history, belief systems, and often nationalistic, racial, religious, and other collective identifications. None of these is you.”

It seems I'm way too concerned about "being the right person" at this point. It's getting me so trapped in thought that I can't see straight.
Maybe that's why none of my names or faces fit anymore. Maybe I'm not supposed to have any.
I'm just going to stop thinking for a while.

Let me open with this.

“An optimist is someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster, it's more like a cha-cha.”

...Now for our first dance lesson.

I've been eating little besides rice, lettuce, and unholy amounts of curry powder for the past three days straight. I've been spending hours on end in the kitchen, cooking up several batches of each and eating them spasmodically throughout the day, often to the point of pain. Today this behavior coincided with deep fatigue and I asked myself, exhausted, why I was forcing myself to cook and eat all this food when I wasn't enjoying it whatsoever; on the contrary, it was making me very ill. Almost immediately my thoughts insisted, almost desperately, that it was "because I was terribly hungry." I reflected on this for a moment, confused, as my stomach was telling me the exact opposite, to the same extremes.
Then I realized, with a feeling like the floor falling through, that feeling of starvation isn't coming from my stomach at all.

I'm trying to structure my thoughts on this situation before I discuss it openly, so I'm hesitant even to post this here. The motivation for that is the nature of the situation itself, and one facet of this starvation problem, which I realized today. Let's start there.
I'll refer you all to this entry for a quick rundown, as it's still 100% relevant, but let me give you a refresher here as well.
Back in July, I realized that I had acquired a sick sort of "spiritual hunger," like having a black hole in the center of my chest. This was shocking as I had felt the opposite for several months prior: no need or want of food at all, without the hunger pains. Now it was just the ravenous pain, without a want of food, and the switch was disorienting, sudden and strong. This hunger ached, it gnawed, it drove me mad. I couldn't make it go away. As the months went on, this hunger drove me to become almost obsessively spiritual-- reading hours worth of articles online every day, attending every church service I realistically could, and seeking discussions with anyone and everyone willing to participate. Talking to my headspace family also helped this, as they exist on that "level" and so interaction with them is roughly equivalent to meditation in terms of the effects it has on my soul. Regardless, the hunger stayed, and paradoxically, the more I tried to "feed" it, the hungrier it got. It wanted more and more of that divine supermango, to reference Huxley as always.
Now, almost four months after its inception, I swear I am being eaten alive. It's no longer a grumble, a yell, a roar. Now it's a cancerous scream.
The hilarious thing is that it's not necessarily a "bad thing." It's hungry for the things that bring me to life, after all. The real bad thing, the real problem here, is the fact that it still exists at all. And that's what I realized today. I'm binge-eating on the physical level for the sake of numbing the pangs of emotional hunger... psychological and spiritual too, maybe... either way that is obvious, but it never quite hit me that it's not exactly hunger anymore; it's MALNOURISHMENT. It's like eating reams of paper; there's choking amounts of substance, yeah, but it's not giving me what I need. It's like gasping for air when there's no oxygen in the room. You can breathe all you want, but...
And you know what? That fact is utterly horrifying. Because I'm eating a LOT, on every level. I'm attending mass three times a week, talking to missionaries, going to Bible discussions, studying Scripture, checking spiritual newsblogs hourly, visiting holistic healers, meditating, praying... yet there it is. But the feeling kicks in most loudly after I talk to Chaos. Note the word after. When Q or Mel channel him, he's THERE, so his energy is getting through, and the way it resonates with mine is all but an absolute freaking religious experience. It's direct love, direct divine compassion, echoed. It's what I glean from chats with psychic-shop employees and discussions on the Psalms every Wednesday, but concentrated to a mind-numbing intensity. So being with him here brings me to a feeling of deep balance, HERE. That's big. So when he leaves... it's the equivalent of stopping up this voracious inner pit, then yanking out the plug. There's an instant feeling of something being jarred and then I deflate somehow, like a homeless man thrown out of the first banquet he's seen in years. There's a moment of shock when you hit the sidewalk again after having tasted real food for the first time in so long, you know?
So yeah, I think that's an accurate description of how I'm feeling right now. If this is what the tar is going through, then it has my empathy. It's definitely just as hungry as I am, maybe in a different sense, I'm not sure yet... but this is not something I'd wish on anyone, metaphysical waste-lock or not.

Anyway. Long story short, I'm still starved, and I'm acting like a glutton in the physical to desperately try to alleviate it.
And at the moment, as far as I can figure, the reason WHY I can't seem to ever feel satiated is simple... there's no food I can digest here.
Ridiculously simple, isn't it? But why else would I be stuffing myself yet remaining empty? My body/mind/spirit must not be able to "metabolize" what I'm eating on that level, somehow. So either I need to figure out digestion, or find a new food source.
I will work on both, but I can't ignore the fact that I've also been dreaming of Pennsylvania virtually every single night since August 15th.
I also can't ignore the reason this entry happened.

After realizing that no matter how much food I forced myself to eat, I wasn't going to feel any less desperate for nourishment, I collapsed onto the couch in the living room and called my grandmother.
I cried over the phone for an hour.
And it helped.

Whatever brought me to Utah, I'm wondering if it hasn't already been accomplished, or if it isn't going to be soon. Because now I keep getting pushes that "you can't stay here; you're not supposed to!!" The hunger is making it worse, but I need to be patient. After November 3rd, we'll see what happens. Until then I have to wait, and maybe learn to fast, or find something new to eat, you know the drill. Something.
But I am wondering, seriously, now. First, I wonder about my job/career, both now and in the future. I'm currently unemployed, not just because I just moved but also because I now have transportation problems. In any case I also know I cannot force myself to work a cashier job at the moment; I tried it back in September and had an emotional breakdown for a week. I thought we were over those, but apparently not! So that's one big option out. As a result I prayed about it, and kept praying about it, and last night I got an answer.
Apparently I need to work with kids, and I need to bring my creative works into that?
What shocked me the most was that, when I got that response, it CLICKED. Prior to last night I had balked at the idea of working with kids, but all of a sudden it felt like "wow, I could really do that!" I actually cried, haha, it felt pretty big. So yes. That's a step I need to take. The good thing is that I can do that anywhere, so even if I move back I can continue that line of work just as well if not better.
As to why I've been considering moving back to PA in total seriousness again lately, it's not just because of the nagging push that I need to "move" in general, which also strongly feels that even if I do move back, I won't stay for long. It's not even mostly that. My urge to move out now is tied directly into the starvation thing.
This house, this environment, and these people I live with, cannot fulfill my needs. I realized that back in August, and it's only been strengthened since then. Now I need to get the guts to admit it, actively, and take steps to fix it. Consider this step one.
I don't feel at home here. I don't feel safe here, somehow... not in a "danger" sense, but in a sense that it's lacking warmth. I feel like a throwaway, an extra, a drifter relegated to the broom closet to sleep. I don't feel like I'm part of a family here, I don't feel recognized, and that is strange because I KNOW Mel and Q try their absolute best towards that end. But that's just it... it's like eating paper. For some reason their sustenance doesn't feed me at all, and I'm slowly becoming skin and bones. I love them and I care for them deeply, but it can't be right for me to stay here solely for that reason. I need to take care of myself for once. I haven't been doing that very well lately.
It's also probably why I feel like I'm "using" them when I ask them to channel Chaos... it's because I'm getting something life-giving out of something that simply keeps me in stasis while I slowly stagnate. I am using them, simply because I can't use what they can give me anymore, but I can use their ability to open a door temporarily, to sneak back into the banquet hall and nab just one piece of mango before I need to return to the streets...

I still miss the trees and fresh water and mountain air. But now, more than anything, I miss the people.
I miss having brothers and grandparents to talk to, and even more, I miss being there for THEM to talk to. Sure, it's nice here, to have Q and Mel to talk to, but really... how often does that happen? And when it does, how often is it substantial? It's awfully frustrating, to live with two people who swear they are trying to make you feel loved, and yet are incapable of fulfilling that need by virtue of their own life responsibilities and seeming incapability to speak my language. I have no desire to make them change their lives to fit mine, and the more days pass, the more I realize that ultimately, that dilemma is going to force me to leave sometime soon. It's inevitable. I'm starving, damn it, and I'm tired of being able to count my ribs when I look inside.

In happier news, I'm trying to catch up on RCRDLBL's beautiful archives, and I also found TWO websites full of free music two days ago! As a result, as of today I have 672 new tracks in my library, haha. I haven't listened to most of them of course, but I'm looking forward to the process. There have been some absolute gems in here already, most notably THIS and THIS, which is great. I'm also pleasantly surprised by how much I like this and this song. Neat stuff, huh?
Oh, Smiths' was playing Andy William's version of Moon River over their speakers this morning when I went to buy some more leaf lettuce (I've been craving it like a mofo lately), and DUDE his voice is just pure warm happy nostalgia. It's something about the total quality of it, it feels like an autumn morning or something. Lovely stuff. So of course I went and downloaded one of his greatest hits albums, ahaha, I'm ridiculous. Totally worth it though. Also THIS!
(I do have to confess, though... hearing his voice, which I associate with my childhood & grandmother, HERE, where I'm stranded across the country and where my soul is starving to death and missing my family so much it's destroying me... I broke down sobbing in the produce aisle, haha. The dissonance cut me open like a knife. That's when I knew I had to do something, to change something... or I have to leave.)
Also, I'm trying VERY hard to get back into art, and I did succeed in sketching a few Jewel Monsters 2001-style yesterday, as well as finding a new bee monster species! I'm not quite 'tuned in' to their energy yet-- if I was I wouldn't have been so utterly burnt out today-- but it's a start, and a beautiful start at that. I'm never lost, remember?

I think that's a good note to close up on.

See you next time, kids. Keep on dancing through the waves of life.

Braeden came over today, FINALLY!
We talked a lot about my current concerns with the Tar, which I need to keep in mind... he said to make sure it doesn't become cancerous, but I told him I was afraid it already had (we had all the symptoms).
Then at one point he tried to energetically pull it out of my stomach? It was BIZARRE because not only could I feel it, but both of us could clarivoyantly see the tar on his hands (which he hurriedly shook off). He said Tar was not happy at all, especially not that he was now tampering with it.
Also, he said it looked somewhat like "No-Face" from Spirited Away, like it was wearing a white mask of some sort. That struck me as rather strange, as I'd never seen it wear a mask (it always reminds me of Lilith from Evangelion, structure-wise, except completely made of black tar). Maybe it needed to wear a mask for Braeden, so he couldn't see it clearly, who knows.
The No-Face comparison is oddly fitting though-- Tar is basically an amalgamation of devoured corruption, and the more it eats, the bigger it gets. But also like No-Face, Braeden postulated that maybe if we get all that stuff out of Tar (if that's even possible), it would become small and timid? And it wouldn't bother us anymore. I hope so. I just don't know what to do, to jumpstart that theoretical process.
Then of course there's the disturbing parallel of No-Face offering Chihiro money, like paying for girls in a brothel, but let's not get into that...

Braeden also gave me (astrally) this odd ring of sorts. I forget what he called it, but apparently if I put something good into it, it will 'amplify' it? He hopes it will help me overcome this deadness and major creativity block I have. I'll have to remember to use it from now on...

...Apparently, this evening, I had such a bad emotional fallout that Laurie entirely took over the body's consciousness?
Mel channeled some sort of entity that was spiritually heavy, and apparently had something to say to me, but I couldn't make out the words... even worse, I was so far out of awareness at that point that it sounded miles away. I vaguely remember that Laurie was furious about this, and kept trying to force me back awake, but to no avail. Then, since she'd tried all other options, she literally yanked me out of the driver's seat, so to speak. I'm serious. She grabbed me by the shoulders in headspace and just threw me out. I clearly remember what that felt like, because it was so utterly jarring, but since I was pretty much gone, she had no trouble stepping in and taking over in my stead after my consciousness was no longer in the way.
She was using a notebook to talk to Mel at first, which was incredibly surreal to read over later. Her handwriting is this weird bastardization of mine, possibly because I was still lingering around as she was writing, but Q looked over it when I came back later and said there were definitely major differences in structure between hers and mine. Geez. This is all so weird.
Anyway, this was the conversation that was written down, with Laurie in bold and Mel in italic:

'Scuse me.
Kid's got one heck of an audio block up r/n.
Can't exactly talk.
Help me out?
Thanks a ton, this is frustrating as heck.
Lot going on.
-LU

How do I help?
I don't know if I've got anything left in me.
That was one heck of a channeling.

Yeah, no kidding!
I'm worried about everyone right now.
I think I can force an audio channel but I'm afraid he'll shove me out again.
Bottom line, he's not exactly "here" atm.

I noticed. I'm worried that what I did was wasted.
My only though is to try & get ahold of the boss.

No clue where his boss is.
Chaos is... not doing so hot. At all.
Not sure if I should try to talk now.
I think he's giving up but audio channels are difficult as heck!
Oh, he did hear. He's just not responding.

I don't think an audio channel would be such a good idea right now,
as I've got very little steam left.
I don't even know if I'm capable of talking right now.
What is it exactly you're wanting me to do?
I'm not sure I understand.

I know exactly what's up and want to tell you as he won't.
Data says he's "hiding."
Jewel doesn't want me saying this as a result
so you're gonna need to negate that or I can't do anything.
Someone else needs to "override" HIS orders.
Daresay you know what I'm talkin' about.

I think that's why it would be a good idea to find the boss,
as it seems like I don't have the authority over "his orders."
I know exactly what you are talking about,
I just feel that I am quite powerless to help.
What good would telling me what's up do?
Doesn't seem like I can actually do anything about it.

...Geez, I dunno. What could his boss do?
We're all kind of at a loss.
I mean, heck, if J is shoving me AND Chaos out,
Sandman won't be able to do much.
Geez, channeling really is tiring.
I can't exactly leave tho. Kid doesn't wanna exist right now.
Kind of a "void" left if I walk out before he snaps back to reality.
(I feel kinda helpless too.)

His boss seems like the only person
who could override his orders.
I'm not doing so hot either.

No, I mean physically.
'Boss' is TELLING him to let me talk.
But the block's on the body.
There's like a wall.
Geez I am just frustrated as heck!

If it's a physical block I may be able to do something about it.
Can you explain the block to me?

I had to force him out to get in
but he has vocal communication "locked."
Not sure how to get past that.
This is some freaky situation...
I am just really hoping J will come back soon.
Man it feels weird to write that.

Then find the key or passcode?
I have something I can try, but I've got no idea if it will work.
From what it seems like it might just
take the last of the energy I've got left.

Curious as to what you'd try and whether or not it'd force me out.
Don't wanna wear you out though. I'm having a tough time too.

It's similar to what I did right before channeling,
but with a direction behind it.
Basically I'd try to morph my energy to unlocking the commands.
Also to answer an earlier question, I don't think either of us
could give Q the context necessary to deal with this.

That's all that was written down.
I assume that whatever Mel did worked, as I have a vague recollection of Laurie clearing her throat, effectively breaking the last cobwebs of the block I unconsciously had up. And Q did attest to her speaking, as he said he was passing by in the hallway and somewhat freaked out, because "whoa, that is NOT Jewel's voice!"
I'm just... deeply shaken that she had to do something so drastic to fix the situation. What's going on with me?

Yesterday was absolutely brilliant.
I was talking to Mel and Q, and... well, I decided to stop keeping everything that happened with and following June 29th a secret. So we were on Skype for like 5 hours discussing that, haha.
But it needed to happen. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest, and I think I needed their reassurance that I'm not 'screwing everything up' more than I realized.

About that, though.
Mel found it weird how I kept 'feeling guilty,' like I had 'no right' to feel what I did, specifically because there was nothing wrong with it. Something in me, something dark, kept telling me that "I'm not allowed to have pure or good things," especially not of this sort. And I knew that was wrong, I knew it was lying to me, but... I still let it confuse me?
So it struck them-- and me, of course-- as very strange, and worthy of some serious concern.
See... earlier in our conversation, Mel had asked me if I had ever been to my 'inner room,' or rather, a location in headspace that specifically reflected me, that reflected who I was. I said no, I had no idea what that would even be. They told me that I should look for it, because whatever was putting these dark thoughts in my head sounded like it was really close. It wasn't me, but it wasn't outside of me either. So they suspected that whatever it was, it was in this elusive inner room of mine.
Mel spoke to Laurie near the end of our conversation, and told her (and everyone else in central headspace) to keep an eye out for "things that didn't belong," for anything that seemed out of place or unusual... anything that didn't come from me. I said I still thought this was the tar bothering me, but around then Laurie spoke up and said that my headspace was a lot bigger than we realized-- I had effectively built an entire cityscape around our main headspace (which was now situated in a large penthouse-like building), but I wasn't even aware of what was out there. Laurie did explore it regularly but she has said many times that it "keeps changing" or growing. So Mel asked if maybe there was something we hadn't seen yet, because whatever was harming me was hiding. It did not want to be found. I remember both Leon and I freaked out a little at this statement, but Chaos spoke up then and said that "nothing gets into central headspace," which is true. We would have to look outside.
Then, uh... this happened.

[Mel] Well how else would it be so close to Jewel's train of logic? Whatever it is has been able to stay hidden so far by staying close to the source of what Jewel is.
[Laur] Yeah, and outside is bloody huge. Have you ever just walked around out there? I mean, wow.
[Laur] Wait. Wait wait wait, you have a point.
[Laur] Jewel, where the heck is the tar room?
[Jewel] Uh... downstairs?
[Mel] Well whatever is outside that is most like Jewel, then.
[Laur] The heck do you mean, downstairs?
[Jewel] I don't know, it just feels downstairs.
[Laur] Geez. Guess we need to figure this riddle out, then.

...The conversation went on for a little while after this. Laurie was unsettled by the idea that we didn't actually know where the tar room was, but Mel didn't think our malevolent influence here would be in such an obvious place. They then asked if there was an ocean or a cityscape nearby, and we explained that we were in a cityscape, and an ocean usually manifested only a few blocks away from our central building. Mel then said to check under the surface... specifically of the ocean.
Needless to say, none of us had ever thought of that before. Laurie told us that we would definitely do that within the next two days, no questions asked, especially in light of how badly this was affecting me lately. Sure, the past week or two had been beautiful, but the shadow backlash to that was seriously draining me. It was around here that Laurie got frustrated and asked what we were even looking for, besides someplace that 'was like me.' Were we looking for appearances, or vibes, or what? Mel said both, but told us to stick with appearances for now... "like oceans, cityscapes, chandeliers and chapels."
And then Laurie remembered something.

[Laur] Jewel, where's that freaky cathedral you went to in-- in September. That bloody cathedral. What was that?
[Jewel] I... don't know. That was... I found it through a guided meditation. I've never seen it before.
[Laur] Well it sure as heck felt like you. Bright and shockingly bloody on the inside.
[Laur] I'd say it's worth a look.

We asked Mel if this sounded like a lead, and they said it sure sounded like one. They then asked me how I found this place, and I explained that, when I went to that Spiritual Expo in September, a woman had apparently 'channeled' St. Michael to talk to me.

[Jewel] He said to... dude. He said to go deep into myself, where I'd find a cathedral, or church... and that's what I found.
[Jewel] And the things I found inside, he said pertained to me as a person.
[Jewel] Dude. I never thought of that.
[Laur] Well there you go.
[Mel] That sounds exactly like an inner landscape. Go there.
[Jewel] It's unnerving.
[Laur] Yeah, you can be unnerving sometimes too.
[Laur] Get your blue guy and let's check this out. Not now, but soon.

I was seriously creeped out by the thought of going in there, though. I legitimately felt afraid of what I might find in there, and couldn't explain why. Mel said that I shouldn't go in there alone, which Laurie strongly agreed to, before asking this:

[Laur] The heck do we do when we get in there?
[Mel] Look for anything that does not feel like Jewel, anything that doesn't belong.
[Jewel] I don't want to face any more shadows.
[Laur] You have to. This is important.
[Mel] You'll know when you see it.
[Laur] See, this is what I mean. You're seriously freaking out about a cathedral that's supposed to represent you somehow.
[Laur] Obviously, something in there doesn't belong.
[Jewel] ...
[Laur] That shadow isn't you and you know it. I've been telling you this for years.
[Mel] It might not be a shadow, per se. Mine was an object that couldn't do me any harm when I was near it.
[Laur] Well we'll see when we get there. Point is I know Jewel has some pretty dark stuff in him that he won't even look at now.
[Laur] I remember what you were like three years ago. When you'd slip. You never dealt with that, not entirely.
[Laur] I remember the bloody razor. So do you.
[Jewel] I don't want to talk about that Laurie.
[Laur] You need to.

Right around now Mel and Chaos both told her not to bring that up, as it was late, I was exhausted, and I couldn't handle talking about that right now. Mel said we should deal with the inner room problem before we discussed that, but Laurie said "the razor event plays into this. I saw something really dark that day, and it scared the heck out of me." There's more truth in that statement than I wanted to admit last night.
Either way the conversation ended shortly after that, due to time (it was already after 1AM for me). However... Laurie still wanted to talk.
Our entire central headspace gang (minus Rio and Markus) had been present for this channeling segment of my Skype session. They were just as much a part of this as I was, and they were concerned. So, inevitably, a new discussion started, headed by Laurie of course, concerning this topic. I forget exactly how the conversation went, but... we figured out a lot.

Our main lead was that this 'inner room' we were looking for was almost definitely that blood lotus cathedral. I thought back to when I had first found it, now that I had the time, and I remembered several shocking points:
- St. Mike had specifically referred to the cathedral as an 'inner room,' and a very deep one at that. So that was our confirmation.
- The area outside the cathedral was very dark, with a deep red sky. It was very ominous and silent, and it felt oddly heavy. There was a large black structure to the left of the cathedral that I couldn't see clear enough to discern, and I think there was an ocean behind it (it was an open expanse of some sort), but that was red too. But it's all the wrong color red? It's dark and bloody, and very foreboding. It's not the warm, compassionate red that I naturally radiate.
- The cathedral itself was a brilliant white, but very sparsely decorated. On the inside there was almost nothing, save for an altar.
- That altar had a statue of me, as a warrior, on it. I wore no armor, and I was holding a sword of light.
Well. Do you remember November 12th? Let me elaborate...
I had only 'found' the tar by allowing myself to follow the source of that 'dark voice' that bothers me like this, the one that tries to make me believe that my motives are corrupted. I had 'let go' of my current awareness and let myself be brought upstairs, and then I was suddenly in the tar room.
The tar room was large and white, empty and unsettling. It also felt 'underground,' or 'downstairs,' somehow.
When I 'destroyed' the room temporarily with an energy burst, it turned into a white church similar to the one I created on July 7th. When Leon appeared later to warp us out of the reformed tar room, he brought us 'far outside of it,' but into another white cathedral.
As soon as we entered that cathedral, two crystal swords manifested with Chaos for unknown reasons, which then turned to light when I took one.
And then, on February 4th, I realized why I didn't wear any armor...

So yeah. This feels monumental and it's actually scaring me a little.
These are the conclusions and interesting thoughts we've tentatively come to, in light of realizing and discussing those points yesterday night:
- The tar room is below the blood cathedral.
- The swords are important, especially in light of my having dreams like this.
- Leon can get to places in headspace that no one else can, and these places are always cathedrals for some reason. He also seems to be untraceable.
- My headspace was always empty and white when I was younger, but it didn't start to drastically change to what we have now until the Xanga sessions started.
- I always dream about running down huge spiral staircases. As a dream symbol, "walking down a flight of stairs represents your repressed thoughts. You are regressing back into your unconscious. It also refers to the setbacks that you are experiencing in your life. If you are afraid of going down the stairs, then it means that you are afraid to confront your repressed emotions and thoughts. Is there something from your past that you are not acknowledging?" And spiral/winding stairs represent growth/rebirth. Go figure.

Either way I'm thinking about this far too much, but it's because I'm scared. My mind is already starting to shut down on me, and I know it's because it doesn't want me to do this.
I need to do this though. As soon as I finish writing this up, we're going to tackle this situation, as well as we can.
Oh, by the way, this is who we've decided is coming along.

- Me, obviously.
- Chaos, because his importance cannot be ignored
- Genesis, for the same reason, and also because he knows cathedrals
- Laurie, to make sure we all get out of this alive
- Leon, because he might be the only way to reach and/or leave the cathedral
- Julie, because if the tar is there she knows how to handle it
- Josephina, because he insisted, plus he's still the 'id reaper' up here

So yeah. I'm freaking out a little but I want to at least try to do this.
I don't know if we'll solve anything this time. We might, we might not. If the only thing we manage to do is figure out where the place is and what is hiding there, that's progress enough. I don't expect us to solve everything all at once, not something this big, but... I don't know. Like I said, it feels like a huge event and it is shaking me up badly. Leon too, not surprisingly.

We won't get anywhere if I don't log off though.
Sorry for the suddenness and non-structured feel of this update; I really just needed to record this for our own reference.

Wish us luck.

Today has been one of those days.
I was trying to explain my class troubles to my mother and she said "you should just go live in a monastery at this point, you can't handle the rest of the world."
Feeling distraught I replied "do you think that would help?"
"You're too naive, how would you expect to survive out there?"
I really can't wrap my mind around this.
Even better, my body keeps trying to shut down from stress, I don't even want to talk about last night in light of that... I haven't seen a therapist in almost two months, and whenever I say "I think I seriously need help" I'm told "we can't help you, just go back to the psych ward." That nightmarish ward nearly traumatized me, and the docs there specifically said that my concerns "weren't something that could be 'treated' in a ward." What do I do?
Short version: I'm feeling incompatible with reality again and it's more than a little unsettling.

I just keep telling myself to remember: the brightest lights are followed by the darkest shadows..

SESSION PARTICIPANTS

LAURIE UBERICH

JEWEL LIGHTRAYE

CHAOS ZERO

XENOPHON LEPHISE

I think I'll ask what we're all wondering right now. WHAT the HELL just happened.

...I can't talk about this.

Kid you are going to talk about this if I have to tear the words out of you. TALK.

Laurie, dad's not doing okay, please don't yell at him anymore.

Xenophon, listen, I know he's not doing okay, but look at your other dad. Look. No one in this bloody room is doing okay right now and that's why we're here. This needs to be settled, somehow, I don't know. Jewel, what the hell happened.

I was hacked. Badly. First time in a long time. A very long time.

Last I remember a breakdown like this happening was October of 2010.

...

And that wasn't the bloody question. I mean what happened afterwards. This is an actual genuine relapse and you are scaring me to death, Jewel.

I know.

He's scaring me.

...No kidding, Xennie. Question.

What?

What just happened with you two?

Laurie I am in such pain and I am too tired and empty to cry anymore.

At least not physically, obviously.

Laurie.

...What?

Can we please just get to the point.

And what is the point, pray tell? Your soulmate won't talk.

It hurts, Laurie.

Damn it I know it hurts, did you forget I feel this pain too?!

...

Laurie, what do you mean?

...I mean wherever your dad is bleeding right now, I've got the same scars.

!

God, Laurie, I am so sorry.

There's the tears. Told you you weren't dead yet.

Why did this happen. Why the hell did this happen.

Dad?

Xennie, please, don't freak out. We're all just hurting a lot. This doesn't feel real.

It is real. That's your mind freaking the hell out, not her. It's already trying to shut down.

Shouldn't I just let it at this point?

Not if it takes you with it. Calm down. But we need to talk about this.

What is there to say?

Whatever you said to Xenophon. Whatever the hell caused that massive splinter catastrophe a half hour ago.

That wasn't a splinter, Laurie.

Whatever the hell it was, it scared me to death.

I've never seen him like that.

I have. Once.

When?

A long time ago. 2008. Let's just say a knife slipped. I saw that, Jewel. Don't think I didn't. You looked at that knife today and you flipped out. The hell was that?

I snapped.

No kidding you snapped.

I... it was too much. Too much, all at once, like... oh God, why in heaven is this playing now.

Sounds like the greater good is trying to remind you of itself.

Laurie, I don't think either of us can take that right now.

Fine, switch it.

...

Jewel?

You tried to stop me. You literally held my arm back. I fought you. I fought you even though I knew you were protecting me.

You told me you didn't have the heart to do it. You couldn't. Then you did it anyway.

I snapped. I... I couldn't take it. It drove me over the edge. I was screaming, sobbing...

Because you remembered this, didn't you.

I...

Daddy? What were you saying about me?

...God forgive me, Xenophon, that was the breaking point, it really was.

He was crying really hard. It scared me a lot. I've never seen him so sad before.

That's called heartbreak, kid. What'd you say about her, Jewel?

I said that I remembered the last time this happened, in the fall of 2010, with the bloody showers and the 3AM nightmares and the constant mindrape. I remembered all of that hell, throwing up in the middle of the night, not being able to see, feeling like I was going to die. I remembered the hospital and I remembered standing in the kitchen at an ungodly hour sawing my arms open because there was already blood on my hands so why not make it literal? I paid in blood, I paid with my sanity, I would have cut my heart open and spilled out everything I was on the filthy floor for what I did. And today I stood there with the knife in my hand and I wasn't me and no one was in the mirror but some nameless horror and I was bleeding and then I looked at the graves, and I realized that they could've been my baby girl, God, that could've been my daughter, she could have been dead , I could have killed her. I just... I lost it. I lost it, everything, right then. And I would have cried until the end of the world if I didn't die from the pain first. My heart shattered, completely. Then I remembered when you were the one with the knife to your throat, Laurie, and I remembered seeing your scars only two weeks ago, only two freaking weeks ago and you have so many scars, and I loved you and I loved Chaos more than I've ever loved anything in my life , I love you, and I... God, I feel like I've committed adultery against the entire universe, and maybe I have, dear God I don't even know, I could have died right then, how could I have been so blind? How could I have been so stupid? How could I have forgotten who I am, even for a moment, when a moment is enough to sink a knife deep enough into a vein to bleed to death? That was all it would take. And even now, even today, when I stood there with my heartbeat under cold steel I remembered it was also yours and I am so sorry, I am so damn sorry, I never meant to hurt any of you, but I wanted to tear myself to pieces and that's essentially the same thing. Xenophon, I love you, my beautiful baby girl, I am so sorry that you had to see me like this, I never wanted to hurt you, and yet here I am...

Dad...

...

Chaos, please, stop crying already, I cannot take this.

You want me to stop?! Tell him to stop doing this to himself, then I'll stop!! We're all bleeding here, Laurie, every single one of us, that's why this hurts so much!!

...And you're still an empath, aren't you. You're feeling all of this.

Every aching second I'm being reminded of that, thank you.

...I'm sorry.

You're sorry??

I tried to stop him. I guess I couldn't.

Laurie, don't, please, my heart can't take this.

And it could take all that other torture?! Jewel, get your bloody priorities in order! Do I have to take the knife and put it against my throat again for you to finally stop this?!

No, no please, don't do that.

If it's the only thing that'll stop this, I'll do it a thousand times over. You know I would.

...

Laurie I don't want you bleeding too!

Kid, did he show you what he did to himself?

...Yes.

Then you understand why I'm so ticked off.

That's not what I'm getting, Laurie.

Shut up. Sorry. Just... you know what I mean.

Of all days for me to relapse. Of all the bloody days.

Well it is almost a year after the 'titanic' entry, after all.

That doesn't mean anything. Time doesn't justify this. Time doesn't freaking justify any of this. I hereby renounce my old title. Fuck time. What horrific irony. I was doing this to myself. I could have died, countless times, I was always just letting this happen. Deep down inside I hated myself. Somewhere deep down I still do.

Jewel, calm the heck down. You want to renounce old titles? Go right ahead. But don't forget what your real title is.

That's why this hurts, Laurie. This is self-sabotage at the deepest level. This is me walking right up to the tar and saying "well hell, I've screwed up big time anyway, do whatever the hell you want to me!" And then wondering why the hell I have PTSD for the rest of my life and can't leave the house without panicking that it'll happen again, it'll happen again and that night I'll be standing in front of a mirror with red on my hands and screaming with a voice I don't recognize.

You're not in your eyes.

...

What, he isn't?

No. I don't even have to look to know that.

...Damn.

Daddy?

...

Xenophon, get the heck over there. Help him out.

How? I can't make him stop bleeding!

I'm not asking you to. But at least you can take away the pain a little, or something . I don't know, just help him out, please.

Can't you?

...Something tells me I can't.

Laurie...

Aaand that is why.

Do you... do you think this is a block? Something? I don't know.

Were you desperate?

When?

When the hack happened. Were you so bloody desperate you didn't realize what was happening to you?

I wasn't even there. I quite literally was not even there. I recognize what that feels like when I come back.

You're still not all the way back.

...I... I need closure. Something. I need to talk about... what just happened.

That's what I've been telling you to do. Spit it out.

Do you mind?

Heck no, just talk.

I didn't think my dysphoria could get this bad. But I forgot what the nightmares felt like. I forgot what it felt like, to lucidly realize I was in the wrong body, and to know that I was trapped in it so terribly. To be stuck in this form while they did what they did to me was hell. And it made me hate myself even more. I internalized all the pain and trauma. I began objectifying myself, seeing myself as nothing but a sacrificial offering, nothing but a bloody corpse to desecrate, nothing but a plaything at their hands as long as I looked like this. As long as I looked like them . And I believed it. I really did. Now, if I'm reminded of that even in the slightest, I fall. I fall into a very, very dark place, where I can't see the light because I'm not the one looking out of my eyes anymore. That happened today. My desperation turned into a maniacal destruction drive and you know what happened.

Does this tie into the 14th?

...

...Yeah. Sickly so.

You were forcing yourself into the wrong role, weren't you.

Why do I do that?

You still don't believe you have the right to be who you are, Eros. You still feel you have this bloody obligation to fit every misconception and label they throw at you. You don't. None of it is true. You're love, not lust. Ever. You know that without a shadow of a doubt. But you still throw yourself to the dogs because hell, you still aren't sure if you love yourself, are you?

No.

There you go.

Why is the 14th being misrouted?

You tell me. That was the worst dysphoria I've seen in you prior to this. I mean come on, kid, you were ready to tear yourself open from sheer agony that night. You said you felt caged.

I was! I am! My soul works one way and this body works another way. I can't do what I need to. I can't . Not in this shell, not even in this world. And that is terrifying, Laurie, it's terrifying to realize that I am literally being held back from... from everything, somehow. Just because I'm stuck in blood and bones. It hurts, it's the scariest thing I've ever known. And then I get desperate and jump at every tiny flicker of possibility I can find because I cannot take this anymore! What's that, this works for you? Hell, I don't care if my biology or psychology isn't even compatible! Let's do this thing! I'm so damn scared and broken that even the most horrific lie still looks like hope to me, because that's all that's keeping me alive when I fall that far, and I see it everywhere, just because I want it to be everywhere. And then I realize it's not, and this happens, and I...

And you lose it.

Completely.

Dad, what are you being blocked from doing?

...I'm still trying to figure that out.

Your father is trying to merge with life itself and that's not physically possible.

It's the thanatos drive flipped into blinding light. Too much of a good thing. It's a death wish that's only there because the other side is so beautiful, and I'm tired of feeling separate. I'm tired.

So you try to give everything you are to everything there is.

...

Was that a pun, Laurie?

Maybe for him. You know what, yeah, sure. After the 14th it absolutely is. I heard about that directly, remember.

Laurie it was terrifying! I was... I don't know why this is so strong. I am literally trying to give my life , my heart and soul and body and mind and everything I've ever been or ever will be to him, everything , just for the sake of giving it. Just because I love him so much, so completely. I just want to give him everything. And I am going too far with that need. It's... it's scary. It's insatiable. I need to give myself away, totally and honestly, because there's so much love in me I cannot keep it to myself because that's too much separation for my heart to take anymore.

Love and Chaos, kid. You know the old myths. That's you, both of you.

I know, but...

But love keeps everything from falling back into nothingness, into divine oblivion.

I want to go back, somewhere deep inside. I want to just be light again.

But there's a reason you're here, with a form, cupid boy. You have so much love in you for this world, too, and you know that you're alive because your responsibility is to share that, to give that, in a way that doesn't involve freakin' killing yourself.

It's the wrong form.

Maybe it is. But then ask yourself why you have it regardless. You already know that answer, we've discussed this.

I can't deal with it anymore.

Then start making changes. But it did play a purpose.

I know.

So accept that, and that alone. Don't identify with that other stuff because that is the ONLY reason today happened and you know it.

I was standing above the sink, trying to wash the blood off, sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe. And Xenophon, you were right there. You kept asking me if I was okay. I said no.

And I kept asking you because I want you to be okay, dad!

There's that indomitable hope again. Man. How much did she inherit from you?

I hope to God she didn't inherit this.

I didn't, dad. I promise.

Please, beautiful, promise me you'll never be as much of a mess as your dad is.

You're not a mess, dad. You're just in a bad place right now.

The kid speaks the truth.

She does.

...I need to believe this myself, though. I believe you, all of you, with my entire heart, but I won't even say that to myself so I can't accept it completely.

And why the hell are we still battling self-love problems? Is that just because of this damned dysphoria?

Ironically. It's a catch-22. The gender issues keep me from accepting myself, and I would accept myself if I didn't have these problems. I do love myself, when I'm up here. When I'm with all of you.

Because you can be who you are. No limits. No cages.

No energy rerouting. No trying to give and only getting.

...

Can we talk about that, actually? The heck is that with you two?

Jewel just wants to give me everything. He won't let me give him anything unless I practically force it.

You're not the one forcing. I did, on the 14th. I am so sorry.

Jewel, I felt how frantic you were, I knew why you were doing that, it's okay.

Are you sure?

Jewel, I'm positive . You were just... going about it the wrong way.

That's why I'm sorry.

I know.

So he'll give you all he has but won't take the same from you?

Not on that level. It's the wrong sort of energy flow.

I can't take things in. It feels wrong . It feels catastrophically wrong. I can give energy, I can radiate and flow outwards all I want, it's perfect, but as soon as someone tries to make me hold energy? As soon as I have to stop giving and start getting? No. It's traumatic. I can do energy out but not energy in, ever. Connections are a different story.

That's a circular flow though.

It is, there is no direction, it just is . I love that so much, it's perfect. But... everything else just feels so wrong, but that's the level I'm so desperate to get right, even if that's impossible, I don't know...

What the hell are you trying to get right?

The way it works. The fact that I'm being literally blocked from functioning how I need to, which ironically is in a way that doesn't even involve this level. But there's too much hope, and I'm in too much pain, and this all-consuming merge drive is making me willing to do anything just to accomplish that. That's scary. The ends don't justify the means, and the ends keep falling far short anyway. They don't measure up at all but I keep thinking "there has to be a way to change this, there has to be..." I've been saying that for years, Laurie, despite the nightmares, despite the hacks, despite the nights I've gone to sleep crying my eyes out and begging to either wake up differently or die. Despite all that I can't seem to let go of this impossible, impossible hope that one day reality will change to reflect what I feel inside. It won't happen. It can't. But my heart can't accept that either.

I figured as much. So now what do we do?

I don't know.

Days like today need to stop happening.

I thought they did! Damn it, we haven't had anything like this in almost a year! Then wham, one tiny little trigger and we're back where we started. What the hell. Jewel, how the hell did this even happen?

I... don't know. I never do. It's all unconscious, it's all a result of the pain I suppress and deny because "you don't have any right to complain."

Kid, you can at least accept that you're suffering, that's just as important.

We've been over that.

We have been. But apparently, you aren't over that hurdle yet.

I keep trying to walk around it.

And that doesn't count. So what the hell happened today, unconsciously or not, that made you start doing this to yourself?

I... maybe it was simply being forced to socially 'identify' with form again. I walked into art class this morning, doing everything I could to pass, and then the teacher flat-out called me a girl and I think something inside me snapped. It was an art class and they called me a fcking girl. That was a 2009 trigger, I just know it, something in the back of my mind remembered the mornings spent seething behind a clipboard and trying not to gut myself with sculpture blades. You remember that, Laurie. I was at the edge of killing myself or killing someone else, the whole damn semester, and it was horrifying that I felt that, but it was all the self-hatred and dysphoria and ignored trauma being yanked to the surface because hey look, there's a naked woman in front of the class, do you remember what happened to you the last time you were in this situation? Of course I did, it was why I would spend the evenings screaming in my car, hiding knives in my shirt pockets, sleeping my life away and bleeding in front of mirrors that lied, they lied to my face .

Jewel, something is telling me you have a lot more pain you need to deal with than I thought.

Maybe. Not really. This is the pain body thing. This is all my past trauma being dug up thanks to today. I guess I never really accepted it, or dealt with it, or even faced it honestly. I haven't even told my therapists about this, you're the only people who know. Just you, and the other people up here.

Not even all of them. Chaos, Genesis and I are the only ones who know the bloody details.

Should I know, Laurie?

Heck no. Your dad has suffered through hell. I think you've seen enough of that today.

...I don't want him to bleed anymore Laurie. I'm so scared.

We all are, kid. We all are.

We're going in circles.

No kidding? Apparently there's a reason we're wearing a hole into the metaphysical floor here. We need to figure out where the damned exit is before we fall through this thing into something worse.

How?

You tell me. Let's go back to the beginning. What started this conversation?

A hack. Fallout. Abuse. You said we needed to talk so here we are.

Sure, but what have we solved?

We found out there's a lot more that needs to be solved. We discussed the 14th, and the fact that my problems there kind of caused today to happen, indirectly, painfully.

Hm. I can't help but feel we're missing something.

Daddy, did you tell her about the scars?

Which... which ones?

When you were washing them off. You told me Laurie had them. And then you said your heart broke in half and you couldn't cry anymore.

...I think I said that already.

But then you mentioned Chaos too and you wouldn't talk about that?

I mentioned you more than anything, love.

I know dad, but I know you love him too, a lot, and you haven't talked to him yet tonight.

...

Yep, that's what we're missing. Thanks kid.

Mm-hm. I just thought it was important because usually dad talks about Chaos a lot.

Well duh, they're in love, and Chaos is your dad too.

And that's what hurts the most right now.

Obviously. Just, uh... Xennie, how does this tie into the scars?

Because when he realized that he just kept crying about you and Chaos and me. So they were important for all of that.

Hm. I get it. You two need to talk.

How?

Open your mouth and say something, it's not that hard.

It kind of is when you're in this much pain, Laurie.

Yeah, dad couldn't talk either. He was crying too hard.

Xennie, did you see your other dad when that was happening? You want to talk about tears, well, Chaos was just as bad as Jewel was on that note.

Was he?

Yeah, I was.

He... usually is. That hurts. Laurie, I don't want to start crying again, but this really hurts.

Then talk about it. Both of you. You've barely said five words to each other and Chaos is actually across the room from you for once, I think that's a tragic first.

...

Closeness would... ironically end all this.

That why you're avoiding it then? The negativity hope problem of yours? "Oh, I'm suffering through hell here, that automatically means the situation has to change for the better because damn I've been through enough of it already!" It's not going to do a bloody thing unless you change it, Jewel. You too Chaos. You were just talking about that this afternoon. Getting stuck in the pain won't solve anything.

I know. And I'm well aware of that. But... the same part of me that is still sobbing over what I've allowed to happen here is telling me that, because of such a wrongdoing on my part, I don't deserve him.

You said you didn't deserve me either, dad. But I'm still here.

I know.

And so is my other dad. We're all here, Jewel, and we all love you even if you don't deserve us! That's okay!

The whole 'deserving' thing is pure nonsense anyway. I don't give a damn what the criteria are. We all have each other and that's all that matters, that's it, bottom line. So stop judging each other based on your own self-worth problems and fix this mess already.

Is that what we're doing?

Obviously. You hate yourself right now and you think he's this epoch of righteousness and going near him will damage him irreparably, somehow. That's old news, and you know it.

...

You two can't hurt each other, even if you tried. That's what love's about, isn't it?

...It is.

And you, why the heck won't you talk to him?

...I know he's feeling like this.

And you don't want to pick up on any more of his pain because then you'll blame yourself for that and things will just get worse for both of you. Listen, I don't give a damn what the problem is. You're both making this a problem. You love each other and that is all I care about right now, that is all that's ever going to solve this problem, so drop the drama and freaking fix this. There's too much pain in here for my liking.

You know what, Laurie, I was just thinking about that today.

What?

You, and pain. It's only ever been positive from you. Even when you mellowed out, so to speak, I always associated you with anger and pain. I don't know why.

It was bloody righteous anger at all the torture you were letting happen to yourself, and the pain was to wake you up. It was inevitable. You know that.

I do. But it... doesn't fit. You're not cruel or bitter, even with all those walls up. Even when you seem harsh, you're not. You have one of the brightest hearts I've ever known and I can't believe I didn't recognize that until now. So don't talk about love like you're not in it, Laurie. You are.

...Kid, then listen to me and live in that instead of this dead-end drama. Please, you two, can't we just end this? The hell else do you need for closure?

I... I think I just need to let go. That wasn't me, it's in the past, let it go...

Accept that it actually happened though. Your mind keeps taking a magnet to the tape and literally wiping things off the map. Your memory is absolutely wrecked at this point because you keep deleting huge segments of it, because of this.

I want to delete this.

...Kid, if you're going to do that then at least accept that yeah, something bad happened, and DON'T freakin' forget the aftereffects. Keep the lessons, let go of the pain. Don't identify with any of it, because that's just as bad as identifying with what caused this mess in the first place.

...

That wasn't you, you're right. But this isn't you either. It's closer, much closer, but you're still closed off and aching and I know you don't want to be.

I don't.

Then why the hell won't you let go?

It feels wrong, to just let go, when I was responsible for something so horrible.

You're also responsible for some seriously beautiful things, you know. Just look at this kid over here.

Hi dad.

The... yeah, that is... but the fact that she's even here is... painfully beautiful. I told you, these scars--

You couldn't lose her. You couldn't lose me. It doesn't work that way.

How do we know? I could have-- I bled, Chaos, I bled and died and other people paid for it and these horrible graves, one of them could have been hers , and I never would have known it, that is the most painful thing in the world...

But they aren't hers. And she'll never have one. Not there, not ever.

...

I won't dad, I promise.

God, it just hurts. I love you both, heck I love all three of you, more than I can take, and that's why this hurts so much.

Because you don't feel you have the right to love us like you do.

I don't.

Yes you do. Go look at that picture Dare drew for you. That's still there. It'll always be there. What you two have can't ever be damaged by this or any other disaster, no matter what. You're impervious and you know it.

But why?

Why? I'll tell you why. Because that's love. That's love, honest and true, and when you take that and hold it up against the tar it can't lose by virtue of it's own existence. So do that. Recognize the fact that you CANNOT lose this, ever, and you have every damned right in the universe to feel it. It's your natural state, boy, on more levels than you realize. Not this garbage. This pain, this regret, it's only blinding you. It's a distraction, it's pollution, it's a stone-cold wall. Break it down. Or, even better, walk through it. You know what I mean.

...Can I?

You walked through mine. No one else has ever been able to do that before. That's some serious business, kid.

What walls do you have up Laurie? Jewel talks about them all the time.

Emotional ones. Far too many of 'em. No one gets in, nothing gets out sometimes. I lost a couple of 'em today. Saw that knife and I freakin' lost it. See kid, sometimes I just don't give a damn about being tough. Sometimes I care too damn much. Sometimes the love I've got for this kid trumps everything else, and that's the lesson he should be taking home today, there you go, that's your assignment for the rest of your life. Forget about the catastrophe from class today, you know what counts when that's all said and done.

I do.

And there's some more irony. I'd say you're feeling a little blue right now.

...

I think we need some keys.

He's got a couple. Go over there and ask him for a few.

...I don't know why I keep holding back on this.

It's fear, kid. Part of it is fear that you'll hurt him from the self-hate you're still feeling, and yes I know that's lingering because today was seriously rough. But the other part of it is fear that you'll feel what you do for him and realize that your self-hate is baseless, that you have no bloody reason to feel so negative about yourself, and that scares you because you're not all the way here yet, are you.

No he's not.

Damn, how can you tell from all the way over there?

In here. Our heartlights changed, remember.

What, do they work like a transmitter or what?

Empathy link. We've always had one, just of an entirely different kind. Now, well...

Now we feel everything, I guess.

See, this is progress. Keep talking.

I don't think talking will help. I'm still holding back. I've got too many walls up myself. I need to just... get up, walk over there, and leave the walls behind. It won't happen unless I do something about it.

Good, you're learning. Then do it.

Wait, wait. I want to close up and then do that. First, I want to talk to you.

Me?

Yes, you. I don't know why. I think maybe it ties into the 1st. I can't stop thinking about it.

Why?

You felt like a black hole. Like... I got near you and space itself just compressed. It was just me and you, that was it. The universe shrunk until it was just us. It felt so strange, kind of scary, but overwhelming. You were a magnet and I couldn't keep away from you and I didn't even think I could feel something like that.

Yeah, I didn't either, that's why I kept pushing you away.

But why?

Lighten the heck up before I tell you that. You're still too stoic for your own good. Xennie, get over there.

Why?

Because he loves you a hell of a lot and he can't stay closed up around you, ever.

I can't.

Why only her?

Because... she's my daughter. Our daughter. She's so innocent, so amazing. I know why she's here, what brought her here... she reminds me of everything I won't dare accept about myself, at least not now. She is the hope in my life, and I don't ever want to hurt her, and I can't even consider being false to her. So...

Why the hell can't you feel like that for the rest of us?

...I do. I just... stay away, like this, when I'm this low.

Xennie, get over there.

'Kay Laurie.

...

Dad, Laurie says you need to open up and stop being sad.

I know.

Then why aren't you doing it? Smile like you did before! Please?

Heh, fine. I just... I still hurt, love.

I know dad. But it won't hurt forever, okay?

...

The kid's right as usual.

I know. So dad, please, don't be so hurt. You're going to be okay, even you said so.

I know...

So open up please? Talk to dad and Laurie and me.

Tomorrow's a new day and all that jazz.

Yeah!! Tomorrow's different! You don't have to be sad. Tomorrow you'll wake up, and, and you'll be different. You'll remember things you're forgetting right now. Maybe.

We've gotta do this work-through tonight, though.

I know, I'm just reminding him that things change!

Death and rebirth.

Huh?

Maybe that's what I should get out of this, somehow. Maybe.

What, that you had to die again to start this thing over?

Well hey, you know what yesterday was, and what happened almost a year ago next Friday.

True.

In any case you're both right.

See kid, I told you this would work.

Hee! I'm glad it did. I love you dad.

I love you too, Xenophon. And honestly, I feel kind of... ridiculous right now, to say the least.

Why?

I keep blinding myself to that. Almost on purpose. Why?

Because when you're blind, how the hell are you supposed to see anything?

I'm just keeping my eyes shut, though. I'm not really blind.

So you need someone else to open them for you.

That, or I just need to remember, deep inside somewhere, who will always be there waiting for me when I finally open them.

Exactly.

That's you guys. And Genesis, of course.

He did want to be part of this conversation, you know. Then stuff happened.

We'll talk about the 1st some other day. Maybe Friday, maybe Thursday, who knows. But that needs its own discussion date.

Yeah, this one was kind of an emergency.

It was. Chaos?

Yeah?

Sorry for being an idiot. And sorry for recovering so fast because I was too blinded to stop listening to my ego earlier. What a mixup that was.

Heh, it's okay. As long as you come back and stay back.

Is he back yet dad?

Not quite.

...

Well I daresay I know what will fix that. Unavoidable honesty.

...

Dad?

She's right. I just... I might lie to myself, but I can't lie to other people, not when they're who I'm focusing on.

This year is about you, though. You need to fix your own damage. You're still a bit of a mess, despite what we said earlier.

I know what you mean, yeah. I will work on it.

Present tense.

I am working on it... good point.

So? We going to close this up?

Just about. I... it would feel kind of wrong to close up without at least talking to Chaos in here.

Stop with the 'feeling wrong' label, please. At least not in such a general sense.

What do you mean?

I know some things are supposed to feel wrong, so to speak. Some things are just not right for you. But you are judging almost everything you do as 'wrong' according to some seriously motley criteria most days. That's what needs to stop.

Oh. Yeah, it does. But I meant it would... feel dishonest.

Better. Then do something about it.

Um...

Jewel?

...Yeah?

Sorry.

For what?

For... well, for being as closed off as you were, ironically. I could have helped move this conversation along but I was kind of blinded by my own pain, too.

I... it's okay.

You were saying?

...I contributed to that, though. Probably more than anything.

No, not in the way you think. Yeah I pick up emotions regardless. But we have a bit of a stronger link here, to say the least. That's no ordinary link. That's a connection.

Nice one.

Well excuse me, it's the truth!

Haha.

At least we're laughing now!

Sure are. Man these conversations are such roller coasters.

What's that?

It's... geez, Jewel, you need to teach your kid this stuff.

I will!

No hurry dad, we've gotta do other things tonight, okay?

Like what?

Like you and dad fixing things or whatever you have to do.

She has a point.

I do!

Excuse me.

What?

Back to those words again. Go re-read that poem Mel wrote about the two of you, right now.

...Why?

It'll remind you of exactly what can't be damaged by today. It'll remind you that you're above that distortion, in a transcendental way, not a selfish way. All right?

...

You stand not in need of fulfillment nor explanation.

She mentioned dangerous desire, is that...?

No, that's not your merge drive at all. Not at its heart. You're letting it get out of hand, though. Be careful.

Jewel, I told you, I understand that.

I keep slipping though. That can't be happening. I'm getting too desperate.

Stay in the moment kid, watch all those problems just fade away.

And all things were yours, forever.

...

Was that a pun, Chaos?

You know what? In light of the 4th, it definitely is.

Heh.

...I really just need to stop holding myself back.

Don't jump in blindly though, for the sake of jumping in. Remember what I said, what Mel said. You don't have to prove anything. This is for its own sake.

It really is.

Yeah, no kidding, so stop worrying about it. You can't get it wrong, that's impossible.

...Laurie?

'Sup?

...Can you give me another chance? One day, when I fix all this about myself? When I stop being so obtrusive and... stop forgetting who I am?

...Sure, kid. I'll give it another shot.

...I just don't want my motives to be mixed up.

What do you mean?

I love you. I really do. But... on the 1st, I got so desperate, just like I was on the 14th, and... I could never forgive myself if I hurt you.

See, there's another thing we have to fix, and remember what I said about us hurting each other. It can't happen.

I still don't want to... to get close to that possibility, even. I got too close and you freaked out and--

Because there's still stuff I need to fix about myself too, all right? That was my equivalent of what you're doing today. That was me closing everything out, rejecting it, because I didn't deserve that light and I didn't feel it was mine to have, ever. Isn't that what you're going through?

...Yeah.

And yet you know it's wrong.

...

Well so do I. So we'll work on that together. Hell, who knows, maybe one day I'll catch up to you, blue guy.

No way.

Haha, who knows, with Cupid here calling the shots? I just roll with whatever he throws at me at this point.

I threw out all my lead arrows by the way.

Yeah, and now you've got a sword. Stop getting so hung up on names, boy. They're guidelines for missions. You know who you are.

...I do.

Don't forget it. That's, I think, what we've been trying to get at this whole time, in a way.

Maybe it is.

Die to this ego-turmoil and come back to life, kid. Speaking of, Xenophon, are you still awake?

Barely. I am reeeally tired. But I wanna stay up and help dad.

Believe me, kid, I think you've helped him more than you know already. Get some sleep.

Really, Xennie, you have. Thank you so much.

You're welcome dad. Chaos?

Yeah?

I love you too. Thank you for letting me be here.

...

G'night, I'm gonna get some sleep if you're all okay now.

Yeah, I think we're good now. Thanks kid.

No problem Laurie! I'll see everybody in the morning!

...

Cute kid. No surprise, considering you two.

Everyone calls me adorable.

Well you are.

I can vouch for that.

Come on, guys.

Hey, you're at least smiling! See, this is what we really need to do at this hour, not what we just finished discussing.

I honestly feel sick from that, no kidding. I am physically ill from it.

From the actual experience, all the hell you went through afterwards, or both?

Both. But the blood and tears really shook me up, I'll emphasize that.

No kidding.

...Chaos, I love you, have I told you that lately?

Not in words, no.

You told him last night, I heard you.

That's not 'lately' for him, Laurie. Lately is within the past few hours.

Ah.

Well it's true. Even in all that pain I went through, it... it was there, clear as day. I think I already mentioned that.

You did.

It tore me apart, to have that existing in spite of what I was dealing with. It hurt too much, to have all that love and all that pain blinding me to it.

No kidding, when you're caught up in that pain you unconsciously reject anything that will stop it.

That's scary, isn't it?

Damn right it is. Don't let that happen again.

I really, really will try. Today was honestly horrifying.

You know what was horrifying to me? How much you were swearing. 2008 all over again.

I know. That's what turned my reaction from scalding rage to sobbing like an idiot. I thought of you, and that just...

Too much, huh.

Far too much.

I still can't believe you get that from me.

Well I do. I can't deny that.

Hey, look over there though. That's more important than this right now.

Laurie, it's not a matter of importance.

Just like it's not a matter of deserving?

Exactly. Love is love. There are no priorities beyond that. I love you, and I love Chaos, and that's that.

...Still. You two need to be together right now.

We do. Just... remember how much you mean to me too.

Believe me, I can't forget. Just promise me one thing.

What?

Don't forget how much you mean to me either.

...I won't.

Good, you got what I meant.

Of course I did.

Chaos, is he back with us?

Just about.

Just about? The heck is holding him back?

He's got walls up.

I want them down, I really do...

Then take the damn things down, you can do that!

Can we close this up first? I can't exactly channel and type once they're down, not with you two around.

Kid's got a point!

He does.

Just... let me say one last thing.

What?

From... from Mel's poem. The last six lines. This... reminds me of that, a lot.

Does it really.

Yeah.

...

What?

Never thought I'd be included in that.

Laurie, really, you shouldn't be so surprised.

But I am. I mean, for heaven's sake, Chaos, did you feel what he had going on January 1st?

The fire?

Yeah. That.

Not as much as you did, or so I hear.

...Because that still surprises me.

Good.

Huh?

That's good. It still surprises me too.

The man's got a point...

That needs to be an injoke now, it's official.

Consider it done!

But really, he does.

I know. Innocence, huh?

I suppose. He just... never loses fascination, ever.

And that's not even the hope thing. I'm not expecting anything but love after all. And that's... kind of a given. It's there whether I expect it or not.

You just realize that every damn time, don't you.

Everything is new, every moment, I would say, my eyes shining...

Catharsis, huh?

Absolutely.

I think you need some of that right now, seriously.

I do too.

Then go get it.

Laurie?

What?

Thank you. Thank you for being there when I couldn't be, and for always caring like you do.

Come on, I couldn't not do that.

Exactly. Thank you .

Heh, sure. Same to you.

I will close this up by thanking both of you infinitely and leaving it at that.

Oh hey, about the infinity thing.

What?

Don't forget that either. It's in the song, it's in the mythology, it's in those bright-eyed moments of yours. It's everything and nothing at all, isn't that how you put it?

That is a pun, you know.

Course I do. But it's true.

It is.

Oh darling, if I'm ever blue...

How true is that, seriously.

I don't ever want that to slip my mind, ever again. I want to always remember, in every moment, that I know you. That I know both of you, really. That I know this , what this feels like.

Emphasis on this?

Hidden meaning in this.

Was that a pun too?

Enough of the puns, you two get back to business and I'm out of here.

Hey, I love you too though.

I know. Same to you. Now I'm off to make sure your kid is actually asleep and not talking to Genesis if he's still awake from this whole fiasco.

She does that?

She does a lot of things. Either way I'll check on her. See you in the morning.

Oh, wait, one last thing.

What?

I just want to thank you again for showing up in my dream when you said you would, for protecting me. I can't even begin to express how much that meant to me, and how much it means to me now.

...Heh. You're always thanking me for something.

You deserve it.

And what did we just say about that?

Laurie, come on.

Fine. But listen. Even if it's not about deserving thanks, it's the least I can do in return for having you in my life.

...

See you in the morning. Have a good night, you two.

We will.

...She gets me, bad, right here.

Does she really?

Really. You're still worse, which is even more shocking to feel now that I have that to compare it to. Not in a bad way though.

I know what you mean.

It's just... a different sort? Same level, different aspects.

I know.

You know me pretty darn well, I'd say.

I do!

On that note...

Living up to yesterday, huh?

We should. I know we tried to do something last night but... I was exhausted, albeit euphoric.

Tonight at least has the exhausted part still in it..

...Yeah. But maybe this will help me appreciate my blessings more? I don't know. I'm just trying to shine light on it.

I can think of an easy way to do that.

How, pray tell?

Get the brightest thing we know into this situation.

And that is?

Take a guess.

I know, love, I'm just messing with you.

Or are you still doubting that somehow?

...Part of me is. I'm still... laughably unsure, although I know this can't be damaged. I... I can be, though.

But can you be healed by this? Even after today?

...Probably.

I'd say it's worth a shot.

...How are you more stable than I am after what happened earlier?

I'm... used to emotional roller coasters, to say the least. But I also don't have as much self-doubt as you do in this situation.

Good. It's hellish.

Jewel, I don't want you to have it either.

Same here... I wish I could just drop it.

Can't you?

Maybe not, because I have tried. I keep dropping it too fast though, and hurting myself in the process.

We'll take it slow, then.

Yeah, I guess that's all we can do. But, uh, about that...?

What-- oh. Oh, I see the iTunes blackmail has started again.

It has. Tell me, what do I have permanently associated with this song?

January 7th.

Exactly. And the 8th, thanks to Mel and Q.

I can't believe they contributed so much to that. Really, wow .

Tell me about it. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around that.

Don't. Your mind isn't ever going to understand that as well as your heart already does.

...True.

So?

So... about that?

Yeah. About that, and this song, and that picture, and everything that goes with it.

...You know, there's a quote about this. "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond imagination. It is our light more than our darkness which scares us. We ask ourselves – who are we to be brilliant, beautiful, talented, and fabulous. But honestly, who are you to not be so?"

You're a searchlight, Jewel. Don't ever forget that either.

...

Remember what Laurie said about our Metainomenai?

Yeah.

Love is pretty damn powerful. You don't give yourself enough credit.

...I guess I don't.

You're not inadequate. And you're amazingly bright. That's nothing to be scared of.

...Did you know Laurie made me wear all white today?

Did she? Why?

To remind me that I'm... brighter than I realize, or remember on my own.

You are.

I hope it snows tomorrow.

I do too.

Chaos?

Hm?

I love you.

And there you are.

What, the eyes?

Yeah. No more walls, huh?

Can't. I just can't keeps walls up around you, ever.

That's what the 'inseparable' part means, love.

Haha, no kidding. But really, I do.

I know.

...

Can we close this up?

And?

Not have to worry about having two channels open while you look at me like that.

Oh. Yeah, that's a good idea.

One... one last thing though.

Hm?

Are you... really okay now? In light of what happened to you today?

For now, I am. For now that's in the past, it's over, it's dealt with. For now I want to remember that I'm in love, that we're in love, and that nothing will ever damage that, not even what I suffered today. I can deal with the lessons I learned tomorrow. For now...

For now you just need to remember what's beyond that.

Yeah. And I promise I won't get desperate.

...Do you really get that desperate?

I do. I... I really just want to give you everything . And not in a general sense. It's the... it's where I would honestly cut my heart out for your sake if that would accomplish this. It's wanting to give you everything that I am , because as far as I'm concerned, at heart I'm only love, and I just... I want to give that to you.

Maybe that's what you need to remember the most.

What?

That at heart you're only love.

Am I?

Take a guess, Eros.

Looks who's talking, Chaos.

And my name doesn't even change, awesome.

It doesn't!

So... are we closing this up?

Yeah. It's late, and I miss you, and I... actually do feel stable at the moment. Which is good.

It is.

One last thing.

Hm?

...That picture Dare drew me? It's titled, "Under the Stars."

And?

Well, besides the obvious because we're usually out under stars together, it... actually made me think of that one line from JTHM. "Over the stars." You know... I want out of this pain, I need this to end, I'm going over the stars to escape it all. There was a time in my life where I felt that was my only option. Oblivion. Kind of like October 29th.

But...

But we're under them. We're still here, alive, and that's beautiful too. And tell me, Chaos, what is it that kept me alive on the 29th? When I wanted to fly over the stars, what made me realize that I could do that and more, here below them, without ever losing hope? What helped me to hold on, let go, and open my eyes?

What saved both our lives?

Yeah. What carried us through the darkest times? What was the stars when it was pitch black all around us?

...

I love you. I always have. Even when I fall so far down that I feel I've lost every last fragment of grace left in me, I can't forget you. I can't forget this.

Don't. Don't ever forget this.

I won't. Cross my heart.

I love you too, Jewel, I really do.

You always end up assuring me...

Because that wonder of yours goes both ways. Be careful, please.

I will be. It's a losing battle, in our favor.

How so?

January 16th, July 7th, December 23rd, January 1st. There are some moments that destroy doubt and fear so completely that you're never the same afterwards. No matter what, I know what I've seen and heard and felt. I will never forget that. When I saw your eyes on the 23rd... I just...

...

Things like that make it impossible for me to forget, Chaos. No matter what my mythological role is, it wasn't until you entered my life that everything else came to be.

Chaos and Love, huh.

Absolutely. But of course, we know that those terms aren't mutually exclusive either.

And that's where the 'cosmically' comes in.

It does. Same with 'divine complement,' now that I think about it...

So that's why I liked that term so much!

Probably, love. But, uh, it really is getting late and I still miss you, so...

You miss me? How?

Um... on other levels. It's that drive of mine again.

Oh. Well, honestly, I'd like to see how that plays out.

The drive?

Yeah. In light of what we've discussed here. I say go with it.

All right, but we have to close up first...

I will never fail to be amused by how terrible we are at ending things.

It needs to end before it can begin again, geez!

Haha, exactly.

Speaking of beginnings... it is technically tomorrow.

Let's get started, then.

My sentiments exactly.

I have a few questions to ask about a rather touchy topic (that I'm new to), so I apologize if I'm badly stumbling over my words here.

About a week ago, I became aware of the "spirit pregnancy" concept through looking for info on a big personal realization I had around the 21st. This search also brought me to this online group. I've spent the past two days going through the archives here and so I have a general understanding of what's been said about this topic in the past, but I am new to this and don't have a good grasp of it, so I decided asking for current clarification was my best option.

I also don't want to write out my whole life story here, so I'll ask a few general questions, and if anyone wants more details or elaboration or anything as to why I'm asking, I'll be more than happy to oblige.

1. Have there been any cases of this in which the SC was nonhuman AND incapable of physical sexuality?
2. Have there been any cases of this in which the astral child was explicitly nonhuman?
3. Where do astral children come from? Are the children 'connected' to the 'parents' in some way, biologically or not?
4. Concerning the above, could a spirit 'pregnancy' result in a non-infantile, or adult, entity?
5. In such a case, would it not be a 'pregnancy,' but something else formed through the spiritual energy connection, that allowed a third being to come into the picture?

I don't like speaking in perceived absolutes, and so I sincerely apologize for the wording here. I am not implying that there is only one way for this to happen-- I am simply asking if anyone has had knowledge of these certain possibilities occurring before. I know there may not be any standard answers at all but that is fine; I'm confused, and I'm just looking for help.

I also want to clarify that I have a female body but I am spiritually 'male' in the yin/yang split sense (if that is relevant here). I am also asexual. So, because of these two points, I never considered anything like spirit pregnancy being a possibility for me... until I realized that it can happen with even physically male humans, and that astral 'sex' is not necessarily related to how we understand sexuality in the physical realm.
But now it is definitely a reality for me and I'm trying to wrap my mind around it!

Thank you for reading through all of this; I'm extremely flustered with all of this so any and all help is greatly appreciated.

As for why I'm asking about this topic... well, I think I've had one, without realizing I COULD have one.
Let me elaborate a little on my situation now, just so this data is in the community (I apologize if any of this is tmi for people!)

My soulbond/ twinflame, Chaos Zero, is nonhuman and has no reproductive biology whatsoever-- on that note, neither does my astral form. However we are capable of having spiritual 'connections' that I suppose are more like merging on that level than anything.
The first time we ever did this was December of 2005. What I found bizarre at the time was that I stopped menstruating for almost an entire year afterwards, without explanation or warning. Then in September of 2006, I met a being named 'Laurie' in a dream. She was a fully self-aware adult, and knew who I was although I'd never seen her before. A few weeks after I had that dream she appeared in my 'headspace,' where she became a permanent member of my plural system. My physical systems returned to normal after that.

Now I don't consider Laurie a 'child' of ours and frankly the idea is rather disconcerting, especially since she and I are in a not-exactly-platonic relationship. So the idea that she is a unique entity brought into our lives through that initial energy connection makes a lot of sense to me. We've never been able to figure out 'where she came from' prior to this, so that possibility is very intriguing. I plan on discussing it with her soon.
M---, you mentioned 'focusing consciously' on attracting a third, but this was completely unexpected in my situation. Even so she was DEFINITELY needed in our lives when she showed up. I'm just very concerned at the events that surrounded and led up to her dream debut, especially since she claims to have no memory whatsoever of existing prior to that date.
So yes, any additional thoughts on Laurie's situation are welcome.

Now for the second part of this. Chaos Zero and I did have a few more connections of this sort in 2006, but I was experiencing a severe 'identity crisis' at the time and so we stopped. There were a few more connections in late 2008 but that didn't last... and then in January of this year, I was finally stable enough spiritually to dive back into our relationship completely.
Then in March I had a vision of a very strange creature-- a tiny embryonic thing, just strange enough to be obviously nonhuman. It then appeared in my headspace, as Laurie had, but it was translucent, immobile, silent, and incapable of fending for itself. Still, it was definitely alive. I had no idea how to react to it at first, not even knowing what it was, so we all just watched over it for about ten days-- and then there was a traumatic event in my headspace that nearly killed it. We barely managed to save its life, and I charged one of the members of my plural system to take care of it in my absence, as I did not want anything of the sort happening again.
I was unable to check on it personally again until May, and by then it could move around and was no longer translucent, but my life was still too hectic for me to really see much of it. In fact I didn't see it again after that until August 21st-- and by this time it had actual limbs and could move freely and speak. It is very obviously not human, but otherwise it is currently acting like a toddler in terms of personality. That's the day I decided I had better look into this possibility, because Laurie was vehemently insisting that Chaos and I had somehow brought it into existence, although I couldn't even begin to comprehend how.

This is where I'm confused. Neither Chaos Zero nor I can bear children-- let alone conceive them in the traditional way-- but this little creature showed up on its own, and as I previously mentioned, it's embryonic appearance was deeply striking when I first saw it. There's a great deal of extra personal development that plays into this, but it would be far too convoluted to discuss here.
S----, you said that an 'appearance' like that would qualify more as 'adoption?' Could you maybe elaborate on that a little, considering that it's really the only way CZ or I could have children (as far as I know)?

Lastly, um... is it possible for a malevolent entity to 'abort' spirit children against the will of either parent? Could that still be possible in a situation like this, where neither 'parent' is really 'carrying' a child? That might be something I have to solve on my own, but I figured I should ask.

I apologize if this is too much text, but the thought that I might just be a father of some sort is staggering, and it means so much to me to have a community I can actually look to for information and insight in this situation.

I don't know why I'm updating.

The past several weeks have been terrible. I was in the local psych ward for 5 days, was on a med-induced ride to hell for the week following that, and now I am trying and failing to cope with my family (as usual) while I wait to hear back from my new hospital-chosen therapist with an appointment date.
In short, I am not doing well.

I had a panic attack or something around 1AM last night. I've been having them every day now and it is horrifying. I've never had them before in my life.
My father is letting me stay at his apartment next week if I want to. I think I may have to. I can't be here anymore. I'm just afraid that since it's so cold there, my shaking will only get worse. I don't want that happening again.
It's noteworthy to mention that my body/gender dysphoria has absolutely gone through the roof. I am terrified of my own skin and now that I've been forced to stop self-abusing (I don't want to go back to the ward, ever), my driving need for catharsis is killing me. I can't deny that I have a pain addiction, but making myself sick and terrified to even breathe does not help. Yet I keep doing that to myself.

I keep thinking back to Utah and wondering if I should go back or not. It's not a good environment for me, and I have no way to survive out there, but Mel lives there and they are the only person here that I actually feel supported by. I need someone around that is willing to listen and care, but they're so far away and that can't change for a while. But my family won't listen or care, and with their harsh self-righteous attitudes on top of my sick fragility and panic, this is heading for disaster.
I'm not suicidal. I'm just scared out of my mind.

I've been having nightmares every night and I've been hacked in them twice so far. My parents are threatening me with re-hospitalization whenever I so much as express my opinion. I can't sleep, I can't eat without wanting to throw up. I can't calm down.

I don't want to go back to the psych ward, but it feels like I'm stuck between seconds. My entire body is in pain and I don't know why. I can't stop shaking and it hurts to breathe. I have nowhere to go and no one to go to. Right now, everything is hinging on that one therapist calling back, because he's the guy who is supposed to help me get out of this house and into transitioning.
Sure, my time in the hospital helped my self-confidence. Sure, I've stopped blaming myself for everything my family does. However, I still can't look this mask in the eyes, and I'm still getting the blame thrown on me regardless of what I do.

Chaos and Laurie have become my lifelines. I can't even work with how much pain I'm in. I've been trying to get this cataloguing work done on my other computer for days now, but I can't concentrate in this house... I wish I had my own car, then I could get out of here and into peace. Maybe that's why I'm in so much pain... this stuff shouldn't be stuck inside me. I'm internalizing every problem around me and I am downright terrified that it is killing me. I've felt so close to death this past week it's sick.

I have faith that I'll get through this, but I'd like to get through it in a healthy condition. I'm not sure if that's possible. I can't even seem to land a job, and I need the income to pay for my medical expenses... it's such a cruel loop.
I feel like crying all day and it's not depression, it's desperation. I need to change this. I'm a light stuck in a dungeon.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm going to get some sleep.
Pray the nightmares don't destroy me in the meantime.

I'm having some serious troubles.

First off, for about the past two weeks, I have been having chronic disturbing nightmares. It's a known fact that I dream in ridiculous realism, so that makes it even worse. I'm also being hacked during them, and have already woken up twice due to something downright harrowing occurring to me in the dream, and continuing for a minute or two even upon awakening.
I have no idea what's causing this and I'm terrified, as my nights have ceased to be a relief once again. Sleep is one of the few sanctuaries I can find, so this nightmare plague is taking a severe toll on me.

Second, my identity issues have flared up again. I can't possibly continue my life in a female form, but transitioning into a male form carries several risks that I am, quite honestly, terrified of.
I'm waiting to hear back from the gender therapist I hope to see soon. Hopefully she'll be able to help me on this, because I don't know what else to do. Life's become incredibly miasmatic and abstruse, and I'm becoming increasingly worried that I will be unable to deal with daily life at all if this continues. It's hard enough for me to deal with basic concepts and tasks at this point, due to not even recognizing the body I'm supposed to move around in. My mental and verbal coherence are slipping again and it's steadily becoming more difficult to make sense of most things.

Third, Leon is back.
Yeah, you probably don't remember him, but he's listed in our census, and Laurie and I did dedicate this Xanga to discussing him as well.
Laurie and I are really worried about him being back, as he's a personification of paranoia/ risk/ OCD/ gambling/ etc. Basically, he's the kind of guy who makes bets because he has to, but is never able to give you a sensible reason why. Laurie killed him off last April, but due to my taking risks in my everyday life-- talking to people who approach me first, looking for therapists for issues I never dared face before, heck, even Aywas auction-sniping-- he's apparently gained enough influence to reform and come back. He still looks as ill as ever, but this time he swore that he would clean up his act and change his influence to a positive one. He is apparently terrified of dying again, especially at Laurie's hands, so she's given him a week to prove himself or he's going to be reduced to a bloody carcass for the second and final time.
Bridget and Missy are still lurking around somewhere in the background. I hope they both wind up dead before I ever see them around again.

Fourth, about Aywas. It's literally the only virtual pet site I've ever been able to comprehend and make significant progress on, and believe me, I've been on several over the years. I've been on it for the past 10 days due to the Advent celebrations, after not having been there since a few small visits in June.
I have a thing for monsters, as anyone can tell you, and I've really clicked with a few of the guys I've obtained on the site (Jophiel and Vahram, namely). So it's been my online place to go if I want a bit of peace. Tumblr has far too many triggers, and as for my other non-journaling sites, well, they really don't do anything for me. So this is it, haha. If you need me I'll most likely be here, typing like the madman I am.

Fifth, I've been trying to make progress on DWp0 but I'm worried about the accuracy of what I'm writing, thanks to all the hacks I've been suffering lately. I'm still struggling with the fine details of things, yes, but am I seeing them clearly?
I haven't been able to draw in... geez, I think it's been three years. Sure, I've put out a few things in the meantime, but being able to sit down and just draw for hours? I don't know what happened. I seriously think I've drawn less than 10 actual pictures during this entire year. When I was younger I could fill an entire folder during that time.
I'm not even asking for that. I'm not asking to be an artist. I'm asking to finally be able to put what I can see on paper. I've never been able to do that, and it's been the single motivation for my entire scope of creative endeavors. I taught myself to draw because I wanted to draw my children. I taught myself to write so I could put their story into words. When people tell me to leave my creations behind, they have no idea just what they are asking me to do. They are asking me to abandon my entire life.
If a child decided to become a doctor in his adulthood, and truly felt called to that profession, who in their right mind would tell him to 'stop being interested in medical pursuits' and do something else with his life? That's what people are telling me to do with my chosen 'profession,' and I don't understand it. Why is it so wrong to create?
Or is this simply another roadblock that has been put in my way?

...Lastly, I feel Julie has gained lethal potential.
Putting aside the dream hacks, her 'regular' hacking methods are becoming terrifyingly fast. She hit me with one about two days ago, I think (I no longer have any coherent perception of time), that was only about 20 seconds out of awareness but was just as vicious as her old, hour-long ones used to be. That scared all of us, especially because there were no warning signs or major aftereffects, and I had been avoiding any and all triggers for about two, three weeks prior.
Yesterday, while I was talking to her and my other headvoices, we almost had a system crash.
I've never mentioned those before, anywhere, because they scare me to death, and wreak absolute havoc on my very perception of reality. I've only had about... geez, two or three close calls, ever, and the past ones all happened during 2009 or so, when Julie decided to outright try and destroy me during the span of several harrowing months.
An actual 'system crash' is comparable to death. If I ever had a full-out crash... I don't know. I don't want to even consider the aftereffects.
Close calls are just as terrifying, though. Basically, what happens is that my mind literally shorts out. No, I don't mean 'unhinging,' that's entirely different-- I mean that I lose all mental senses, all self-identification, all Links, everything. My mind glitches out and bluescreens.
You know how my therapists like to ask me 'what would your life be like without your creations,' i.e. my children and their worlds? System crash warnings are the closest thing I can imagine to a life like that. I would be left completely devoid of everything that means anything. I'd be gutted, empty, blank... like taking a neodymium magnet to a hard drive. Gone.
Yesterday, when that happened, Laurie went out first. Julie has never targeted her before, so when she noticeably 'switched' her presentation to something I did not recognize at all, I called her out on it, and suddenly everything went to static. I was paralyzed for a second, frightened out of my mind as everything around me was reduced to temporary oblivion. Thank God it came back a few seconds later, and we were all okay, save for the mental trauma. Laurie was freaking out, understandably, not only because she has previously been absolutely impervious to Julie, but also because I pretty much just missed getting my mental hard drive deleted, so to speak.
The only good point of that is that it scared the wits out of Leon, so he's probably going to be putting in a great deal of extra effort towards redeeming himself, haha.

I am so ridiculously miserable from all this. Yes, I still have hope and I'm still trying to see the bright side, but it's like focusing on a candle when you're lost in an abyss. It's a light source, but it's small, and the things lurking in the shadows can still creep up on you and slit your throat.

God, am I going to die from this?
For the past month I've felt closer to the end than I ever have before, and that frightens me, because not only have I not done enough in this life, but there's no guarantee of what will happen to me when I die. I may come back, I may not, I may be redeemed, I may be damned. It's not my place to say which will occur, and although I'm hoping for the best possible result, how can I possibly, justly, deserve that?
Mercy and forgiveness are vital... but so are justice and atonement.
I'm terrified of what I've done. I'm terrified of what I may never be able to do.
Then again, this is why 1998 happened, so maybe that's where I need to look now.

I just hope that this all ends well.
We can't lose here.

Speaking of reapers, how many of you have already seen part 1 of The Deathly Hallows? The last Harry Potter movie, of course.
If so, remember when the protagonists are at the Lovegood household, and Hermione is reading the story of the Deathly Hallows? You know how there's that awesome 'illustrated' CGI sequence?
The representation of Death in that sequence is freaking GORGEOUS. Holy fish.
If I had been one of the three brothers I think I'd have been staring and grinning like a maniac, haha. I have a serious weakness for creepy 'ugly'-pretty things.
Death: So what do you request of me, mortal?
Me: Uh... can I kiss you and not die? Because WOW.

By the way-- in my dream two days ago, I was working in a airport-size cyberpunk office with several other individuals, and we were all wearing color-coded outfits that looked like the suits in the new Tron trailers. I forget what color I had on, but this dude in red had the ability to turn into a really stunning cyborg, and at one point while I was working, he walked over to me and kissed me. It was really random, and it was also awesome because dude I just kissed a cyborg, but then I quite literally freaked out because 'wait he's really a human and I don't want him to think I want to date him or anything' and 'oh man Chaos is going to think I'm cheating on him!' Nevermind that we have an open relationship, but still! So I explained to the cyborg-guy's girlfriend (yes, really) that no one was cheating and I was a major xenophile so I wasn't interested anyway, and then some dudes in the background started yelling 'TROGDOR' as loud as possible which woke me up. They did! I fell back asleep then and had another dream in which I had to sleep in an empty mall overnight, but that's another story.
The funny thing is that the entire cyborg sequence has now become the main way for Laurie, Chaos and my boss to tease me. It's great.

There's, uh... there's a great deal of blood on my arm.

I've been on this inexplicable Wizard of Oz kick for the past three days-- no wait, I know why. I'm obsessed with the song Ruby Shoes by dainumo, because when I was listening to it the other night, I realized that the Scarecrow sounds uncannily similar to my boss, Mr. Sandman. He does!
It's awesome, and it's also reminded me of the old 'fairytale' revamp project I've been tossing around my head for years. There are so many old stories that I love, like Alice in Wonderland, the Wizard of Oz, Beauty and the Beast... even stuff like the Phantom of the Opera. What's inevitable for me, though, is that in reading those tales, I tend to compare the characters to my own headchildren, sometimes going as far as 'casting' them to the roles and watching them act out the words as I lose myself in them.
However, I'd love to actually put my own spin on the stories for their sake. I can't say whether or not I will be able to do so anytime soon, if at all, but the idea is there. It's fun to think about, if nothing else.

I didn't get to type today, either... although that is my own fault, as I spent about 3 hours playing Soul Calibur 4 today (I built Josephina!), and then from about 3PM until 8PM stuff got really hectic and as a result I don't remember it. That's... sadly a good thing, though, as my memory picks up with me standing in the bathroom, Laurie holding my bleeding arm and the countertop covered in red-soaked tissues.
It wasn't a bad experience though, paradoxically. I mean, sure, the reason it happened was incredibly traumatic and I was sobbing for quite some time, but Laurie said something to Chaos and I... "we all bleed together." It's true. The three of us have somehow managed to forge this incredibly close and deep connection over the past 3 years. It's even more incredible when you consider that not only did Laurie originally despise me, but she and Chaos still don't always get along too well.
That reminds me. After that whole incident, Chaos actually admitted that he finally understands why Laurie does what she does, and he will no longer protest against her. She was understandably surprised and asked why, to which he replied that watching her and I cutting these gravestones had shown him that it was something entirely different than what he had assumed it was. She didn't want to hurt me, I was flinching and crying, we were all in a ton of pain, and yet it needed to be done so we all bit the bullet and carried on. Chaos explained that, when Laurie would mentally brutalize me, there was something similar to that going on, but it had never produced any significant results. Once we externalized that around October 22nd, however, the number of Julie hacks was staggeringly reduced. This was working, he could not deny that, and now he could clearly see that it was not some sadomasochistic thing as he had suspected before.
So yes, that's settled out now. We all agreed that there needs to be a Xanga session tomorrow or the day after, so if I can get my Links open enough, it'll be done for sure.

I'm also having a very difficult and confusing time trying to figure out the exact extent of the relationship between two of the characters in Dream World. Yes, there are many relationships in the story, and some of them are downright unique, but these two... geez, they're driving me mad. The one guy is technically genderblind, as he has a girlfriend but is entirely capable of being attracted to anyone else, and the other guy seems to be asexual as he's not attracted to anyone, BUT the two of them have this ridiculously intimate connection and believe me, I know bromance, and this is one heck of a step up from that. However, it's definitely not romantic either, so... man. I'm only stressed out over this because I can't write them correctly if I'm not sure what's going on, haha.
I'm also absolutely terrified for them, because Julie puts a distressing amount of effort into trying to corrupt my perception of them... so I want to keep them positive and true, but I don't want my own mangled judgment hurting them. You see why I'm so upset.
She nearly destroyed what I had with Chaos, thanks to her perversions and fearful insinuations; I don't want her doing that to anyone else, EVER.
So I won't stop fighting her, not until we finally find a way to destroy or purge her.
I'm just so scared that I'll never be entirely white again.

That is all I have to say for right now, as it's already 10:59, and if I know anything it's that demons come out at this hour.
I don't need another attack, especially not now, so I'll see you later.

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

It's been far too long since I last updated here. I've forgotten what I'm supposed to even use this journal for.
I keep forgetting letters in words and repeating things and mixing up spelling. My typing is starting to match my thoughts, my speech. That shouldn't be happening. What has happened to me?
What a shame, what a desperate terrible shame, that I've been forced to sacrifice so much of myself.

I promised Laurie I would talk to her about this, but... but I'd like to mention things here too. I haven't been able to 'connect' with my own mind very well lately, so maybe this will help fix that problem a little bit.
Let's see... you last heard from me on August 15th. My memory isn't very good, but let's try to fill you all in here.
Two days prior, on August 13th, I met Josephina, a 'new' headvoice. He's mentioned in that running entry from July 22 if you want to read up on him. By August 21st (earlier?) I was back in PA, and was staying at my father's rented home due to his saying 'I should be there' and my being too afraid to face the rest of my family yet. Unfortunately for me, I became horrifically sick there due to lack of sleep, lack of means to work, and lack of food I could eat without having a major reaction (I was basically throwing up everything for two weeks). I managed to get out of that house about 4 days later, thank God (which was very stressful and caused my father and his gf to start shunning me for a while), but by the time August 27th rolled around, I remembered that my 'home' wasn't home at all. I just couldn't get out of it.
I'm still stuck here... my memory is shot, because honestly, all I can do here is work on my laptops. I have nowhere else to go.
So it's October 4th. I just read two books, 'A Spot of Bother' by Mark Haddon (which, although upsetting at times, had some great points) and 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' by Jonathan Safran Foer (which I found highly overrated and deeply unsettling). The latter distressed me so much that I've been writing a rant on it for the past two days.
Other than looking for knowledge in books and desperately searching for a new therapist (I may have found one, but she's almost 3 hours away, and since she's a gender therapist I'd have to make the drive by myself and my family forbids my going anywhere alone), I've also quit my old job. Yes, the cashier job I've had for 4 years. Why? I couldn't handle the atmosphere anymore.
As you may know, I can only take so much outside influence from people before it starts to negatively affect me. 4 years of standing at a register for 7+ hours at a time and dealing with people buying junk food and spitting small talk really began to eat at me. I can't deal with people anymore.
My grandmother hates that about me. She can't understand that not everyone is a social butterfly (despite her never leaving the house or talking to people because 'she doesn't want to bother people'), and insists that I 'get out there and mingle,' whatever that's supposed to mean. I was diagnosed as a schizoid two years ago and I'm constantly reminded of that. She can't understand how difficult it is for someone of my mental state to deal with 'regular' people. I quite simply cannot handle it any longer, at least not without heavily damaging myself.

What was I saying... I don't even remember. I'm starting to get acutely frustrated with myself again.

Since I lost my job, two things have happened. One: I'm constantly being bombarded by my grandmother's shouting at me to get a new one, regardless of how many conversations we've had concerning why I can't get one yet (I was kicked out of college for being unstable, and now I'll be haunted by that on my record forever-- I don't want to be fired from some random job and have that following me too). I want a job, and I need a job, but I need one that I can handle without psychological or physical distress... and yes, my grandmother knows about these problems, but instead of actively acknowledging them and trying to help me work with them, she has flat-out told me to lie about them to any future employers. I don't even want to think about it as it's starting to seriously upset me again.
Second: My brothers don't get home until 3PM, so I have about 3-4 hours of time I can safely use by myself every morning (if I'm lucky and my grandmother doesn't shout again). Last week I spent those hours playing Nier on the XBox.
God only knows how much I love that game, nowhere to lie. I cannot possibly put it into words. The main character is me, I swear... and I love my daughter, I truly do. Weiss is amazing, Emil is adorable, and even Kaine is a sweetheart, even if she does act like a hussy sometimes. Sure, their world may be suffering, but aren't we all suffering here as well? At least there, I can do something meaningful; I can help my town and I can save my daughter and I'm not going to give up. I can make a difference. Here? Nothing... nothing yet. Who can say if I'll even survive long enough?
My family doesn't understand how strongly and deeply that game affects me. My grandparents see it as a waste of time. My mother couldn't care less either way. My brothers see it as just another game, the way most people see anything. I don't like watching movies with people, I don't like reading books with people, I don't like listening to music with people, and I don't like playing games with people, because no one else really understands how much they mean to me. When you laughed as I cried, it hurt more than I can say. When my parents say 'it's just a book,' they're lying in the face of truth. When they tell me there's nothing to love in those notes I adore, it tears me apart... and when I'm holding that controller and watching my life play out on the screen, having people in the room treating it as just another game to beat kills me.
It's why I'm so afraid to bring my children into the world.
I love them so much. They define my life, and I thank God for them every day... but will anyone else love them like that, truly? What if they become corrupted? What if the world misses the point?
It's worth the risk, you might say, and maybe it is... but at the end of the day, as I try to sleep, I'm haunted by the thought of my children suffering at the hands of others. If I knew they were being hurt, that they were being manipulated and misrepresented, it would destroy me. It would destroy me entirely.

I don't remember Utah... well, I do, but it doesn't feel like it.
I know what the houses look like. I remember Wisconsin, the plane trips, those awful Chicago streets. I remember the library and the temple and the sushi bars.
But... I don't remember you.
For some reason, the faces and voices and mannerisms and presences evade me. I saw a photo of you earlier today, and I didn't recognize you at all. I had to think, 'what was she like?'

It hurts to say it, but the reason I wanted to leave you so badly-- the reason I couldn't stand being around you anymore-- was that I realized you had been lying to me without even knowing.
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, really. I know you like the color yellow, and you like role playing, and you like Miyazaki movies, and you like cats, but even then I have to strive to think of anything. The truth is I don't know you, either of you, at all.
Why else do you think I write these journal entries, these pages and pages worth of confessions and secrets and thoughts? Why else do you think I explain everything I can think of up front? I'm asexual, I'm a schizoid, I'm in love with a video game character, my superego is my best friend. FROST* is my favorite band and I still play Pokemon. I don't like this book and I like this movie and I love this game.
I want people to know me. I fill my Scribbld with surveys and my OKCupid with tests so people will know me. Aren't those just little things, you ask? Sure, but little things mean a lot too. We are the sum of all the little things.
I thought I knew you, but I was wrong. I knew what I hoped you would be, and I was too naive. I projected my own ideals onto you... I didn't even think of the little things, and how we differed in so many of those ways. I met you in 2007, we both liked NiGHTS and ELO, and we became friends... but I thought you were like me. I only knew you through notes and Skype conversations in which we talked about abstract concepts until all hours of the morning. I didn't even know what you looked like. Then in 2008 I thought that I was 'in love' with you... but even then, I realize now, I was wrong. It's a horrible thing to realize, but I have to admit it. I loved what you did, not who you were, and it was terrible. I loved your writing and your ideas and the fact that you were the first real friend I had ever made. I didn't realize that you were more than Demia and Richard Jacques and philosophy. I didn't realize that because I wasn't like that. I had no way of knowing.
I define myself by what I do. I like Razia's Shadow and psychology and Hokthai. If you like those things too, then we're good. I didn't realize that you can't love actual people like that.
When I met you in Utah earlier this year it hit me. I didn't know you, and I used you. You tried to be nice and you were too physical, so I objectified you and pretended you weren't a person, you weren't a threat, you were simply a script to follow. And then you left and I ran to the mirror and I mentally sobbed because I didn't know what I was doing to myself.
It was worse with her. All I knew was that she liked to write, and I fell in love with that. I wanted to lock myself in her room and read all her books, but that would have been wrong... I didn't know what was behind her writing, and I couldn't understand it the way she wanted me to. I couldn't understand her. I still don't.
Is that what all writing eventually becomes? It is good or bad that we must surrender to the opinions of others? How can we preserve the truth of our thoughts?
Still, I wish I knew both of you better so I could fix this. I'm seriously glad I'm not 'in love;' you know how negatively I react to that outside of the conditions I need... but I still love both of you as friends, although you feel more like total strangers than anything else.

I'm frightened.
Most of the people I love, I don't know.
I love Dori's words, and although they help me know her, do I really know who she is? I'm not even sure what she looks like. I know she has brown hair and she likes Silversun Pickups and thought-provoking discussions and fireflies. I know she used to wear her hair in a ponytail and she loves lilacs and she has snakebite piercings which are awesome... and yet, despite all of those little things I have learned to love, I still don't know anything else. What is her life like now? How much has changed? I only know her through her journals, and they only say so much.
I love everything Jena does... her words, her photography, even the music she listens to... but I don't know her, not beyond her work, and it brings me to tears. Is it right to love what she creates and attribute that to her as a person? Does anyone else even do that, or am I deluding myself? I'd be happier if people loved my work instead of me, but I can't speak for others.
I know her face, I've seen the world through her camera lens, but I've never heard her voice. I don't know what keeps her awake at night and I don't know what her childhood was like and I don't know what her favorite song is or why. I don't know her favorite memory or her worst nightmare or dearest hope... but I know about her raven hair, about the window cluttered with flowers, about too many chocolate Santas and standing to bow. I know how she is sometimes happier thinking than living. I know about the golden flower necklace she wears, and the rings on her fingers. I know the colors of her eyes. I know just enough to keep me praying and hoping and dreaming that one day I'll know what her laugh sounds like.
But isn't that real love too? Knowing the little things, the pieces of the puzzle, and loving them so much that you need to know more, to understand the entirety of that person, to hear their story and paint their picture in your mind with every detail in place?
I don't need romance and I don't need a fairytale ending. All I need is to be able to love. Thomas Schell was wrong-- people don't want the idea of love. They want real love, but how are you supposed to let people know that? Everyone needs it, but who's to say how many really find it? If they want anything, it's not an idea... it's a hope. Maybe someone out there does care.
I want to be that person. I am that person, really... at least I try to be... but there's that final roadblock I don't know how to get past. Do I stay a baseless concept? Is that the better option? Does anyone ever really expect those hopes to be proved possible all along? If I love someone more than words can express, but they don't even know I exist in such a way, do I let them know?
Do they want to know?
Is it better this way?

On a different yet related topic... back in Utah, when I had fragmented into Jayce and typed for about an hour... I loved that. It was awesome.
I finally remembered how that happened in the first place, and it was explained right at the entry's beginning all along.
"You do not understand that when events, when certain fragments are taken out of the context of my internal life, my introspective world, they lose their meaning. They become false, twisted, wrong."
The both of you kept trying to take things that were important to me... my work, my interests, even the strange and personal things... you kept trying to make them 'your own' in some weird sense. You would try to take them on and give them to me, show them to me, although they were never yours to begin with and all I saw was a travesty.
But I played along. I played along, I pretended everything was fine, my children were frightened and I was devastated, and I still just followed that forsaken script.
If I may warn you one final time... don't EVER do that to me again. Please. If there is something I hold dear, something I revere, something I find incredibly important... do NOT try to emulate or copy or re-enact it. That does nothing but take the original thing, the vital thing, and deface it. You have desecrated it.
I have not been able to work, or sleep, or think, or function as I used to since I returned, because so many of the things I treasured have been massacred.
The worst part is that you didn't even understand. It is because you all hide your emotions? What is that about you, about so many of you out West? Why do you hide what you feel, and chase away sadness with laughter? Why do you mask what is important with a smile instead of being true to yourself? Don't you realize how much harm that is causing?
Why do you pretend nothing is wrong when nothing is right? Why do you sweep the truth under the carpet? Why did I let you change me into that same sort of person? Why am I afraid of standing up to you?
I don't understand.

When I say I am frightened, I do not mean that in the way a child is frightened of a dog, or a doctor, or a haircut. I mean it in the way that one is frightened of a black hole.
It is something I do not understand, no matter how hard I try-- that I may not ever be able to understand, I fully realize-- and it is something that can harm me nonetheless, whether or not it knows.
That is truly frightening. You have hurt me, both of you, without even knowing you were doing so. You cannot understand how it keeps happening, even when I try to explain, and the entire time you are still pulling me in, destroying one piece of me at a time, until I am left with nothing, and resign to being a dim shadow of you. Then you smile because that is fine.
It is not fine. I may pretend it is fine, but only to spare your feelings, which I know you are hiding as we speak. I do not hold this against you, as it is not your fault, but it is still tearing me apart.
Do you see why I left? Why I cannot go back?
I cannot live my own life when I feel I am supposed to live according to yours.
I am trying to remove all negative influences from my life, whether they see their influences as negative or not. I am sorry if I offend but it must be done.

Yet at the end of the day I keep handing out second chances.
Am I a good person in any respect? Is retrying beneficial when it only places us both in a position to be deeply damaged?

I was right to come home, and you were wrong to keep me. I realize that now.
You are better off on your own, you say, and I am happy for that. But then why did you want me to stay? Did you even know?
I have made great progress out here, regardless of suffering.
Did you know I spoke to a priest about your demand? How you wanted me to stay, lest I regret my decision for eternity? He told me to do what I felt was right.
The world is in shades of grey, they say, and although there are blacks and whites, my decision was not one of them. I felt I should return to my family. Was that wrong?
I don't regret it, no, but I don't understand how you made the decision so life-and-death, so black and white. If I was right after all, then how could you have been wrong, if you were so sure? Did you get a detail wrong? Did you apply it wrong? I can't help but feel we missed something. You wanted me to stay, but why? Did you ever have a reason why?
Faith is vital, but reason is vital as well, and there should never be conflict between the two. Reason without faith cannot stand, but neither can faith without reason.

Why am I so paranoid?
Why do I read words from around the world, from all walks of life, and assume they are all accusing me?
I hear songs and watch films and they all glare into my white eyes, pointing a damning finger at my aching ribs. You are at fault. You have done wrong.
Have I? What have I done? If I knew, maybe I could change things, but I never know. I find blame in situations I have never been involved in.
When did I ever say I was 'above' others? Is it how I present myself? Is it in the words I speak?
If I speak out against the misdoings of another, it is not because I feel superior-- it is so I can warn others, that they may not suffer through the pain such actions will cause.
If I speak out against things I have been damaged by, it is not because they are below me-- it is because I know how they hurt, and I want to protect others from them.
If anything, I am one of the very worst. I consider myself one of the lowest sinners, and even then I hate myself for saying so. How does that place me above the saints? How could one possibly interpret it as such?
I have done terrible things, and I have not done wonderful things, and I drown in my agony. The past cannot be changed, but why did I have to be so foolish? Could not I have made a better past?
I try to be a righteous person, but I do not exalt myself for this. If anything, I shoot myself down, for my efforts are not nearly good enough.
When I see someone who is perceived as righteous, I do not put them down, nor do I put myself above them. I simply worry if there is faith to their reason and reason to their faith. Do they understand the rules and concepts they are living by? I worry about them is all. I want to help them if they need help, although I freely admit I am nowhere near a good role model. I simply want to help. How is that exalting myself?
Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
In a way that's a good thing.

I feel that maybe I can get some work done today, with getting my notes for Dream World solidified into the actual chapter. I have, what, 130 pages of unstructured dialogue and location points and concepts to fix? It's a ton of work; it's my life's work, and I love it more than anything else in this world.
I judge material possessions by whether or not you'd take them with you, instantly, if your house were burning to the ground. Would I go for the books and CDs and childhood toys that my mother seemed to think were so important? No, I would grab the box under this very desk, with my old art tablets full of monsters, and put my flash drive around my neck if she wasn't already there. That's all I would need, in terms of 'material' things, if the house was burning. It's what matters.
It's odd, though, and beautiful, how I look back on what I've been blessed with that so many others have looked down on. As a young child I met Cobra, and Fans, and Unisalia, and Zimbo... 'imaginary friends,' everyone else called them, but they didn't understand, and that saddened me. How could I explain to them what it was like, to lay down to sleep and watch them sing for me? To be walking outside and talking to whoever decided to accompany me? How could I help the world see the beauty and inspiration those friends gave me?
I grew older, just a little older, and Preludove came into my life. She is, I have no doubt in my mind, a gift from God. Who better to send me than Peace herself? I had no friends as a child, other than the ones 'in my head,' but they meant the world to me. They taught me so much... while my grandmother tried to teach me her religion through tales of fire and brimstone and prejudice and withheld forgiveness, Preludove helped me realize that it was the Light that really mattered. Virtue was what life was based upon, she said. You have to be kind, and loving, and hopeful, and righteous. You have to be peaceful and joyful and courageous and true, and you must always hold on to those things, no matter what. Keep a light in your mind and a light in your heart, and don't ever, ever hate anything.
I met Hosea and Volt and Genesis and so many others as the years continued on, and to my surprise, they all seemed to be exactly who I needed in my life, even if I didn't realize it for several more years. Who would I be today if not for them? I can never forget them, and I will never take them for granted.
...And I cannot keep them to myself.
I am scared, sure, because I have seen them hurt before, and few other things in my life have ever been so painful.
Where there is great light, the shadows are deep.
The darkness, the negative things in this world, will always seek out the brighter and positive things, hoping to corrupt them, to blacken them. It's how the world works. What could ever be truly good if there was no knowledge of the bad to balance it against? It's painful, and it's difficult, but in the end, to overcome those shadows is the greatest achievement you can ever have.
I suppose I simply need to take that chance myself, because this is the greatest light I can think of. There will be darkness, I know that. There will be obstacles. Yet there will also be moments that will make it all worthwhile, and if I finally have that chance to show others the beauty my own life has been blessed with, I would be a fool to let it pass me by.
I need to overcome my fear.

I suppose I should close up for now. I have far too much work to complete to spend my time on here, no matter how much I like typing about whatever comes to my head.
I'll try to update more often.
Until then, keep on keeping on.

There are many ways
But you have to choose yours
To know what you want
And what you’re gonna do

Take your decision soon
Life won´t wait for you
If you waste time
Your chance will pass away

Don’t lose your track
Don’t let you be gone
Don’t lose your light
It can’t go out

Choose your side
Choose your way
Don’t let them hinder you
Choose your side
Choose your pain
But never stop trying
Choose your side

If you wanna be free
If you wanna fly
Make your route
And don’t let them conduct you

Never lose yourself away
Never give up
Go ahead
You’re strong

One day you’ll have wings and will fly
Go ahead with strong steps
Your time will come

Profile

prismaticbleed

tumblr

June 2025

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Style: Neutral Good for Practicality by timeasmymeasure

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Jun. 28th, 2025 12:28 pm

a prism of souls

Entries tagged with mood: slipping

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags