the spectrum heart cathedral system

(uncensored. we're not sure who wrote it but we're leaving it unedited for their sake.)





I AM GOING TO FUCKING MURDER THE EATING DISORDER SOMAFONI
LISTEN WE LOST TEN FUCKING HOURS TODAY TO THEIR BULLSHIT

and you know what the scariest thing is?

NO ONE CAN ACCESS THE DATA.
IT'S SHEER TRAUMA DATA.
LITERALLY NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO EVEN LOOK AT IT THAT'S HOW HORRIFIC THIS REGISTERS.

Julie even said what they're doing is LITERAL, EXPLICIT ABUSE FORCING.
WHAT THE HELL
WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON HERE

we thought they were just... acting on starvation triggers. thanks to tbhu & upmc fallout, the force-feeding trauma there.
but NO
APPARENTLY IT'S WORSE,
THE MAIN DAMN REASON THIS EATING DISORDER KEEPS COMING BACK IS BECAUSE, AS TODAY PROVED QUITE HORRIFICALLY, IT IS A LITERAL TRAUMATIC EVENT.
AND OUR BRAIN KEEPS TRYING TO PERPETUATE TRAUMA.

WHY?????!?!??!?!

WHAT THE HELL GUYS
WHY DOES SOMEONE ALWAYS END UP FORCING US INTO SITUATIONS THAT MAKE THE TRAUMA WORSE
OR FORCE US TO EXPLICITLY RELIVE PAST TRAUMA
WHY CAN'T WE HEAL OR LET GO
WHY DO WE ALWAYS SEEM TO "NEED" MORE BLOOD AND SCREAMING AND PAIN AND NIGHTMARES AND EXISTENTIAL TERROR AND WANTING TO FUCKING DIE

SOMEONE LITERALLY CONSIDERED FORCING HACKS LAST WEEK.
I AM FUCKING SERIOUS
THAT IS INSANITY
and yet, there it was,
literally they were thinking "maybe THIS will stop the eating disorder relapses" but WHY WOULD IT??
BECAUSE IT'S TRAUMATIC. BECAUSE IT'S HORRIFYING AND IT MAKES US WANT TO DIE.
THE BULIMIC HELLS DO THE SAME DAMN THING.
except hacks don't drain our bank account.
BULL SHIT THAT'S NOT A VALID REASON TO SHIFT THE DAMN ABUSE METHOD
we're so damn tired though. it's literally not even about food. it's about abuse
IT'S ABOUT DESTRUCTION TOO. WE'VE NOTICED THIS. THE FOOD AND THE MONEY AND THE BODY. THE E.D. IS ALL ABOUT DESTROYING THINGS. IT'S SO FUCKING VIOLENT IT'S HONESTLY TERRIFYING
do you think it would stop if we.... you know, if we let the retributors or someone go back to just bloodying up the body
GOOD LUCK GETTING KNIFE TO PICK UP HIS NAMESAKE FOR THAT PURPOSE AGAIN. OR RAZOR. THEY DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT TIME PERIOD. THEY HAVE TRAUMA TOO I BET.
yeah but there's gotta be someone who is still willing and able to slice us up, who's been doing the atonement lately?
I DON'T KNOW ACTUALLY. CANNON BLOODLINE CORE I THINK.
really? well there you go, give her a blade and let her go to work
YOU REALLY THINK THAT WILL STOP THE BULIMIC SOMAFONI.
esthiofoni
YEAH BUT I'M FOCUSED ON THE DESTRUCTIVE ASPECT ARE WE TAKING THAT INTO ACCOUNT?
you're right it's not even eating half the time. most of the time
ALL OF THE TIME. IT'S EITHER ANNIHILATION OR ABUSE
good point
SO ARE THEY STILL "ESTHIOS" OR DO WE NEED NEW JARGON.
we'll have to ask the kardis, only they can make that call
ANYWAY I'M JUST GONNA CALL THEM ABUSERS. BITCHES. DEVILS. THAT'S WHAT THEY REALLY ARE
are they? if they're foni then there's a real solid chance they might not actually be evil
...THAT'S TRUE.
like why are they forcing THEMSELVES to relive traumatic events via food.
IT'S POISON HALF THE TIME
all of the time. suicidal too
OH I KNOW IT'S TERRIFYING. LITERAL DEATH RISK FROM WHAT THEY'RE MAKING THE BODY EAT. FUCKING TERRIFYING.
that's the whole point. oh shit that's the point
WHAT?
suicide. do you think maybe they just want the body to die
WOULD THAT REQUIRE FORCING IT TO RELIVE RAPE EVENTS.
that would merit suicide, so maybe.
DEAR GOD IT'S ALL JUST TRAUMA PROCESSING AFTER ALL, CENTRAL WAS RIGHT
how the hell is forcing trauma going to help us process it.
ASK THAT QUESTION OF THE SAME DAMN PEOPLE WATCHING SHIT ONLINE LATELY
oh. good point.
FOR SOME REASON THERE IS A TREND OF "US" JUST... NOT BEING ABLE TO STOP EXPOSING OUR EXISTENCE TO HELLS OVER AND OVER AGAIN. MAKING THINGS WORSE. UNABLE TO LET GO AND BE HAPPY.
happiness is labeled as a crime i've heard
WHY
we're slipping
I CAN FEEL IT. I GUESS THIS ISN'T OUR TOPIC TO DISCUSS
note it for someone else

HOW DO WE STOP THIS.
can we? isn't that Central's job?
THAT CANNON-CORE HAS BEEN MAD AT GOD LATELY. BECAUSE OF THIS. WANTING HIM TO STOP IT AND HE WON'T.
apparently there's something we need to learn from it then
SARCASM.
no just bitter. i can empathize with the anger. it's fear and confusion i'm sure. that's the natural response to this.
THE HACKS WERE LIKE THAT TOO I'VE HEARD
oh i bet. "god please make it stop" and it takes what, ten fucking years?
I DON'T KNOW
but shit i guess things worked out somehow. i don't know.
JULIE'S ON OUR SIDE. SO THEY DID.
true
BUT I DON'T SEE ANYTHING REDEMPTIVE ABOUT LETTING THIS EATING DISORDER CONTINUE BECAUSE IT IS LITERALLY MURDERING US.
i know it's bullshit but if it really is tied into this trauma perpetuation thing maybe this is... i dunno maybe that's "why" God hasn't stopped it yet.
WHAT, LIKE IT HAD TO GET THIS BAD AGAIN BEFORE WE'D REALIZE WHAT'S BEHIND IT?
possibly. i mean tbhu apparently taught us a lot? i don't know but there's a whole tablet full of stuff they apparently learned.
LIKE WHAT
dude i have no clue i don't have that data, i don't know who does
THE TABLET DOES
well then once they upload it we all will. but that's off topic, the point is that apparently this STOPPED for eight solid weeks. somehow. and someone else was in charge. but it fell apart at the end.
THE FAMILY MADE IT RELAPSE IMMEDIATELY
shit i forgot about the family
AND THAT DAMNED HOUSE. THAT DAMNED TRAUMA SINKHOLE OF A HOUSE
do you think that's playing into this trauma forcing thing??
SHIT MAYBE. OH HELL THAT MAKES TOO MUCH SENSE
don't we fucking shift every time we're up there? like who the hell even fronts in that environment? with the mother?
I DON'T THINK WE EVEN KNOW
and they're abusive
THEY ARE ABSOLUTELY ABUSIVE, THEY'RE CUT OFF FROM THE REST OF US
but do they have trauma memories? no, obviously not, they're a social. so... are they just there as a buffer? or something?
ACTING ON THE TRAUMA WITHOUT FEELING IT THEMSELVES?
yeah. like... oh shit i just got data?
WHAT?
someone said it's "like a drug high." like the e.d. behavior with the mother is literally to numb the brain with panic? and terror?
THAT'S IRONIC. HOW THE HELL DOES THAT WORK.
because the trauma makes consciousness shut down
OH. SHIT.
like someone did at cnc. and slc. the only "drug" we had apparently. the only abuse method and suicide analogue we had as well.
NO I KNOW FOR A FACT THERE WERE REAL ATTEMPTS IN BOTH THOSE LOCATIONS.
true. but the e.d. was tied to that. like it was killing ourself without killing ourself.
AND THIS WAS ALL BECAUSE OF THE TRAUMA?
just like with the mother. the situations are all way too similar apparently
SO WE STILL WANT TO DIE?
no. someone does, on the somafoni level apparently. physical. acting on body memories i guess
WE'RE SLIPPING REALLY BAD
i know we're even getting information on this that's insane
MAYBE WE SHOULD STOP BEFORE WE LOSE OUR SENSES OF SELF TOO
yeah we don't have much of those to begin with. but at least we wrote stuff down for people, high five
HECK YEAH
at least we're still alive
ALL OF US?
yeah. the e.d. and the trauma haven't killed us yet
THERE IS NO "YET" THERE. THEY DON'T GET THE RIGHT TO KILL US. ANY OF US.
they tried. they succeeded in some cases
BULL SHIT. YOU THINK THE CORES WILL LET THEM GET AWAY WITH THAT?
haha no. you're right. jay fights like hell against hell.
HE DOES. SO DO THE JEWELS AND CANNONS. ALL THE KARDIFONI DO. THAT'S THEIR JOB. LOVE AND LIFE.
they're probably so pissed at these eating disorder people
NO THEY'RE HEARTBROKEN MOSTLY.
really?
YEAH, DUH. NO SOMAFONI WOULD DO THAT UNLESS THEY WERE DEVASTATINGLY BROKEN
so even you swearing up the wall at them, you recognize that?
I CAN ADMIT IT MAKES SENSE. I MEAN YOU DON'T DO THAT SHIT UNLESS YOU'RE SCREWED UP BAD. BUT I'M STILL PISSED AS HELL AT THEM ALL. AND I'D KILL 'EM IF I COULD. BUT SOMETHING TELLS ME THAT'S NOT SMART OR POSSIBLE. UNFORTUNATELY.
yeah murdering foni never ends well. historically. for anyone.
GOOD POINT. IF THERE'S A STUPID DAMN REASON WHY THEY'RE DOING THIS THEN SOMEONE ELSE WOULD TAKE THEIR PLACE.
...do you want to test that
SHIT YES I DO. BUT LIKE I SAID, DON'T KNOW IF IT'S POSSIBLE.
why
I DON'T HAVE A BODY, DO I? AND I'M NOT ON THEIR LEVEL EITHER. PLUS THEY DON'T HAVE INTERNAL FORMS. THEY'RE IN THE BODY. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO KILL A SOMAFONI.
they're doing a pretty damn good job of that themselves
THAT'S EXACTLY MY POINT. SADLY. AND ANGRILY, KILLING US IN THE PROCESS.
do they even realize that?
I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE, PROBABLY NOT, THEY THINK LIKE SINGLETS
some of them do
THE WORST OF THEM DO.
i've heard that some of them are aware of the System at large though. and talk to Central. like Julie was apparently helping one of them today
YEAH BECAUSE THE TRAUMA TRIGGERED HER OUT WHICH IS FUCKING INSANE.
...still, it shows that there's hope there, i guess.
YEAH YOU'RE RIGHT. IF JULIE HADN'T SHOWED UP AND INSISTED THAT THEY STOP DOING WHAT THEY WERE DOING, I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT THEY WOULD HAVE DONE
no kidding. jeez. that's a scary thought. it could've been worse
YEAH JUST LOOK AT THE OLD DAYS DATA. "TILLY" DAYS. SHE WAS FUCKING NUTS.
she was a thriskefoni, how the hell was she perpetuating the eating disorder?
I DUNNO, MAYBE SHE WASN'T, I'M SURE THERE WERE ESTHIOS IN THE WORKS THERE TOO, BUT TILLY DIDN'T HELP AT ALL
i know nothing about her
I ONLY KNOW WHAT I'M TELLING YOU. BARE BONES DATA. BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE.
who the hell was responsible for e.d. behavior in cnc btw? does anybody know?
ZUCCH? JASON? THOSE ARE THE NAMES I'M GETTING. TAUREIA? A BUNCH OF PEOPLE
geez i know nothing about that
NEITHER DO I. NO ONE HAS LOOKED AT THE DATA IN YEARS. LITERALLY SINCE IT WAS WRITTEN
maybe we should
DEFINITELY WE SHOULD. IF ANYONE WAS TRYING TO TRAUMATIZE US FURTHER VIA FOOD IT WAS DEFINITELY IN CNC.
yeah no kidding, that's when we were actively suicidal, even i know that
AND YET SOMEHOW NO ONE REALIZED IT OUTSIDE.
that's kind of the point, isn't it?
APPARENTLY, SADLY, YEAH.
self-annihilation but cut off from the rest of the people fronting. that happened today, didn't it?
YEAH WITH THE TOTAL MEMORY LOSS. LIKE I SAID THE CANNON-CORE WAS PISSED. AND SCARED TO DEATH OF COURSE. LITERALLY "CAME TO" AND LOOKED AT THE CLOCK AND WAS LIKE "WHAT THE HELL, IT WAS JUST 3PM, WHERE THE FUCK DID THE PAST 10 HOURS GO"
how the hell are you getting this data
IT'S BEING MADE AVAILABLE TO ME. THERE'S A DATA FEED ON SOME STUFF IF YOU REACH UP FOR IT.
really? nice. the archivists?
NO THE... HELMET GIRL?
huh
NO NAME. I'VE NEVER SEEN HER BEFORE. SHE'S NOT NEW THOUGH.
well tell her thank you because otherwise i don't think anyone else would be writing this down
THAT'S OUR JOB I GUESS
are we done?
MAYBE I GUESS HOLY SHIT IT'S 3AM
yeah that's probably our curtain call. hey thanks for talking with me about this. glad we can at least help everyone else in whatever way we can.
HEY YOU TOO. SORRY WE'VE BEEN SLIPPING SO BAD
that's to be expected. we're blurry. we're grafifoni to boot, we're bound to blur with datafeeds and all that. gonna take time to figure ourselves out
AT LEAST IN THE MEANTIME WE'RE STILL DOING GOOD WORK
yeah, that means a lot.
IT DOES. THANKS FOR BEING HERE
you too

 

During the hell of the eating disorder, AND up until now in recovery, I've been struggling with one awful, essential, persistent, existential question: "Who AM I, really?" Is my past "real," or "right"? Can I still love? SHOULD I still love? All my imaginative work, all my creativity, all my hopes & dreams & joys & goals-- are any of them valid? Does any of it matter? Should I leave EVERYTHING in my past-- notably my INNER LIFE-- in the past, to be effectively rejected, disowned, & forgotten? And if/ when I DO abandon it, WHO am I then? Who "SHOULD" I be? When ALL of the things I "USED" to treasure & value & live for are GONE... what is left of me? And to be totally blunt with you, I've been struggling with this BLATANTLY SELF-ANNIHILATORY MINDSET SINCE 2010, when Dad shamed me into junking my childhood possessions as "ridiculous garbage" AND I was nevertheless FORCED to actively and traumatically DESTROY most of MY ART & WRITING in order to "minimize my possessions" & "live out of a suitcase" in order to MOVE OUT TO SLC WITH MEL-- who, disturbingly, LIKE TBAS, made my life effectively revolve around THEM. So I couldn't have "too much of "ME" getting in the way." Even more damaging was the FACT that BOTH Mel & Q CLAIMED to be "the ONLY ONES who KNEW THE "REAL ME,"" that I had "lost my spark" and "ONLY they could "help me" get it back," and that "my TRUE, "GOD-GIVEN" DESTINY was IN SLC," with them, NOT my family, AND that if I DIDN'T leave my roots behind & attach to them instead, "I WOULD REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE," AND I would allegedly be "REJECTING GOD'S PLAN FOR MY LIFE." I feel for it, tragically & entirely-- which made Mel's ultimate rejection of ME-- "I thought you were a good person; I guess I was wrong" / "I sacrificed myself to help you & you just spat in my face" / "I regret ever having met you" / "You are a black hole, devouring everyone around you & giving nothing back" / etc.-- all the more devastating, cruel AND bitterly ironic. BUT. That "bitterness" was because I BELIEVED THEM. Every word they said, good or bad, I took as fact. After that letter, almost 10 YEARS AGO this month (!!!), I literally tried to kill myself. Burn it all down, I decided, in total despair-- if MEL says that's WHO I AM, then that DEFINES me "by their authority," and I'm damned.
...And yet, hope refused to abandon me. Fahrenheit 451. Laurie saved my life, and somehow I kept going, until the TBAS deathtrap hit ~5 years later-- a tragedy of the EXACT SAME PATTERN: destroy, uproot, reprogram, reject, annihilate, etc. I threw out or gave away almost everything I owned. My family history had been brutally chopped out of my timeline. My sense of EXISTENCE was crushed to a bloody pulp. For years I was hollow. I threw what remained into religion, but without a real "self" TO worship WITH, even that ended up being far too shallow & Pharasaical. I stockpiled prayers & sacramentals, I went to church up to SEVENTEEN TIMES A WEEK, even moreso if I could drive fast enough in the mornings to chain FIVE MASSES into ONE WEEKDAY. I'm dead serious. I'd hit 7, 730, 8, 830, & 1130 services, never feeling "holy enough," never feeling "close enough" to God. I was starving spiritually, needing the Eucharist more than air, refusing to eat anything BUT that Bread of Angels. And yet, my disorders persisted. I'd ultimately give in to physical hunger and, despairing, would just binge & purge & pray for mercy & forgiveness & help, begging God for a swift, soon, & holy death, despite my wretchedness. I had no will to live. I only wanted God, but... I couldn't see that my ravenous spiritual hunger was ALSO a problem, an addiction, a disordered mutation of something good. I was STILL trying to be "religious" in the SAME way I was trying to be "thin"-- by destroying myself, and running away from all sense of unique identity. I was burying, numbing, & rejecting EVERYTHING that wasn't "pure" and "right," ultimately disowning LIFE in favor of death, wanting only to lose ALL "selfhood" in God, forever. There's just one problem I kept ignoring: God IS relationship, and you CAN'T be in a relationship at ALL if there's no "YOU" to love AND be loved WITH. In my desperate attempts to annihilate "ME" in favor of others, I had destroyed my very goal of self-sacrifice & symbiosis. In order to LOVE at ALL, "I" NEEDED TO ACTUALLY EXIST.
Hope cannot die, though, and neither could my REAL self, the SOUL that GOD HIMSELF uniquely fashioned & breathed into existence & anchored into BOTH my heart AND HIS-- when Jesus died for me, He died for a PERSON, a REAL PERSON that He KNEW and LOVED in their ENTIRETY and TRUTH-- seeing and embracing their scars and uniting them to His own, even as He joyfully proclaimed IN that very agony that humanity is NOT defined by failure, but by GRACE, freely & generously offered to ALL who met Him on that Cross of TOTAL, TRUE Self-giving-- a sacrifice of PURE LOVE, possibly ONLY BECAUSE HE LOVED US. If Jesus had refused to exist AS a unique Person in time, ABLE to enter into PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP with each & all, ABLE to share intimately in our struggles & pains & tears, our joys & hopes & dreams, then... He couldn't have GIVEN His unique Personhood FOR us IN that same Love, BY & THROUGH that same relationship!! So I was doomed to both futility AND emptiness, starving despite all instinctive attempts to "fill the void," EVEN WITH GOD, because I did not & WOULD not let "MYSELF" exist as a unique individual that COULD love & BE loved. I had thrown out all my past in guilty hateful shame, not realizing that such a loveless, merciless, heartless act of destruction WAS not and COULD NOT be of GOD. Jesus never erased our pasts-- He ACCEPTED them as they were, FORGAVE them in the utmost compassion for our weaknesses & pain, AND IN DOING SO, by His Cross & Resurrection HE TRANSFORMED them, AND CONTINUES to do so, in EVERY MOMENT, if/ when we give our pasts TO Him-- ALL WITH LOVE!!! We CANNOT be forgiven OR redeemed IF WE DENY OUR TOTAL HUMANITY, painful past and all. And, again, we can't gave a past OR a present OR a future, UNLESS we ADMIT & ACCEPT OUR PERSONHOOD & CONTINUED EXISTENCE IN TIME. God made us individuals. God BECAME an individual for our sakes, out of pure Love!! God AND heaven, His very Kingdom, are ANCHORED IN LOVE & RELATIONSHIP & COMMUNITY & TOGETHERNESS-- on WHOLENESS, a unity of COOPERATION & HARMONY, NOT of faceless parts, or mindless pieces! The "hivemind" concept is SATANIC. In the devil's world of lies, "people" are stripped of individuality, seen as numbers or statistics or animals, cogs in a machine, pawns on a gameboard, disposable and of no difference. THAT'S ALL A LIE!!! GOD KNOWS OUR NAMES AND HE SPEAKS TO US AS A FRIEND, in all tender care & intimacy & LOVE!! We are HIS CREATIONS, HIS ART, HIS CHILDREN! WE MATTER TO GOD. I MATTER TO GOD!! HE CALLS ME BY MY NAME AND HE KNOWS ME. Me!! Not some hollow mask or empty shell-- He knows a PERSON, a person HE CREATED TO LOVE AND BE LOVED.
Honestly this is so clear & important to me today, and I cannot emphasize or elaborate on this enough. It's the key to my LIFE. It's the CORE of my ENTIRE recovery effort, or at least it MUST be, because recovery CANNOT HAPPEN if all the reading & obeying & writing & planning I'm doing is STILL neglecting the "I" that it's ALL MEANT TO HELP HEAL!!! Facts & figures MUST BE APPLIED to have any worth or effect. And honestly? IF I DON'T/ WON'T ACCEPT THE "I" OF RECOVERY, OUT OF FEAR OF BEING AN "I," THEN THE DISORDER WILL RETURN TO TAKE "MY" PLACE AS "SELF"!!!! THAT is why this disorder has been self-perpetuating for so long: it is fueled by REJECTION OF SELF! It IS the "INVADING/ VIOLATING" FORCE I FEARED, as it ONLY exists TO OVERRIDE "ME," BOTH OUTSIDE & INSIDE-- JUST LIKE THE SXTRAUMA IT EXPLODED FROM. Honestly it's so OBVIOUS and yet it has HIDDEN its ultimate motives for so long, ironically BECAUSE it was smothering "me"-- that way "I" COULDN'T REALIZE IT. It devoured all my time & money & attention, so I COULDN'T use them to "find myself again"-- couldn't write, couldn't paint, couldn't compose, couldn't dream. Just like SLC & CNC, I had enslaved myself to an outside "taskmaster" and lost ALL freedom of choice, in essence... a sick but surrendered alternative to facing the terror of my past, and somehow salvaging myself from it-- a past that ONLY WAS so terrible BECAUSE I had CONTINUALLY been crushing myself & "trying to become who OTHERS want/ tell me to be"... typically through objectification, shame, and loveless force. I let Julie ruin me because "I SHOULD want that" and "I SHOULD be like other people," although I WASN'T & COULDN'T BE!! GOD MADE ME DIFFERENT, but I never saw that as VALID; saying "NO" to outside shaping forces was met with punishment & rejection-- I "HAD" to be "NORMAL," even if "normal" was toxic. But you know what? I STILL FOUGHT. I treasured my "weirdness" during high school, cranking it up to extremes & socially isolating in order to distinguish & preserve MY self... but the older I got, and the more I was forced to interact with the world-- through jobs, college, and the internet-- the less of a grip I could maintain on that core, overwhelmed by the SURVIVAL NEED to perform. It had always been there, but in the end it virtually took over. That cemented the roots of the eating disorder, somehow, just as strongly as it created our Socials. AND YET I STILL FOUGHT! Look at the journals "I" used to keep-- look at the Scribblds, for heaven's sakes! It may have been desperate & shaky but I STILL HAD A GRIP ON WHO "I" WAS... and then came Mel. God knows why, but around 2009, when they entered my life's story, I fell to pieces. I cannot delve into that now-- I need to SET THAT ASIDE for now & focus on RECOVERY in the PRESENT; I cannot safely touch the past yet, not without restored nutritive mental health AND new solid coping skills, and NOT without re-reading the Archives (thank You GOD for never letting me delete them!!)-- but the main thing I need to remember from that is that, until 2009, I KNEW "ME" and GOD KNOWS, I STILL DO. Yeah, things DID fracture a LOT from 2004-2008, and there were a TON of Core shifts, BUT!! Deep down in my heart THE "CORE" of EVERY CORE STAYED THE SAME, and I KNEW it by instinct. I recognized me. I COULD distinguish "me" from a fragment or a splinter, no matter how broken "I" was even so. My heart stayed the same, and that COULD NOT change, OR be lost or forgotten or ruined, NO MATTER WHAT happened in our life. Deep down, I know who Jewel is. I know who I AM, when you get down to the blood of it... and so does God. He preserves and sustains and reminds me-- He holds my soul in His Heart and will never let it be lost. I must ALWAYS rest in that faithfulness, that eternal hope, when I do feel lost. But... it's not just God, Who knows me for sure, when I'm shattered & shaken. There are others, blessed beloved others, who KNOW ME, who have seen & felt my true heart SO strongly & clearly & sincerely, with SO MUCH LOVE, that they CANNOT forget it... they cannot forget me-- even when I do. They recognize me. They KNOW my name, AND my heart. God has put them in my life as extensions of His OWN gorgeous Love for me, as living manifestations of that devoted knowledge, yet HE PRESERVES THEIR SELVES, TOO!! They aren't "mere messengers"-- they are FREE INDIVIDUALS, who love me with their OWN hearts, which-- like mine-- have been ENABLED to love and BE in a relationship through grace, yet AS THEIR OWN UNIQUE SELVES. They know me BECAUSE of grace, the LOVE that CREATED me, the ULTIMATE knowledge of me, and I only know MYSELF by that same grace!! I am convinced of this. I need to remember this. If, and when, I EVER lose sight of myself, it's ONLY because I have LOST SIGHT OF THAT LOVE, both IN MY HEART and IN GOD'S HEART, FOR ME, ALWAYS & UNCONDITIONALLY.
...And that's what led me to even start writing this entry today. Yes, I've been lost & distanced from my past, disowning & rejecting my "self" in time AND in heart, for many months now. Yes, I've been feeling unlovable & incapable of love & AFRAID of love. In that state, I was DOOMED to the self-destruction of the eating disorder, AND inherently UNABLE TO remember-- OR even ACCEPT, let alone ADMIT-- the core of myself. Alone, I could never find it, not like that, with my closed heart...
...So. This morning, God sent someone to open it.
...I dreamed last night. The eating disorder destroyed my ability TO dream, and it's only returning now that I'm in recovery. (My boss will be so happy to see me again, too!!) I'm no longer having chronic "flat nightmares" and trauma flashbacks-- now, I'm dreaming of childhood, of color, of music, of adventure, of new places and new horizons; I'm singing, I'm flying, I'm able to use dream powers, I'm able to visit familiar dreamscapes... it's as if I've literally come back to life after death. Dreams are a KEY piece of my heart, an intrinsic & vital aspect of my entire existence. They are vivid, beautiful, complex, inspiring, deep, and REAL-- without a rich dreamlife, my waking life is hollow & half-dead. So this blissful return of such an ESSENTIAL and HUGE part of my life is nothing short of a miracle, and it is rekindling SO much hope & joy in my soul. That alone makes the fact of my dreaming at ALL into a source of deepest gratitude... but, this morning, I dreamed of someone. And suddenly, seeing them again, an even deeper, truer, more essential & blessed piece of my heart came back to life-- the core of my core, the key to ALL that I am, the defining aspect of ME, that burns as red as blood and white as light, indelibly, forever.
...I'm in love.
I'm in love.
God I FORGOT what this FEELS like, for SO LONG-- I even tried to DENY it!! I tried to insist it NEVER EVEN HAPPENED, tried to deny and disown EIGHTEEN SOLID YEARS of it, the SAME EIGHTEEN YEARS this damned eating disorder tried to claim as its own-- both it and the hellish abuse that triggered it. BUT I COULDN'T FORGET, not in my heart of hearts, not in the TRUTH of me, EVER. I was just blinded & numbed & disturbed & gutted & hollowed out for SO LONG that I couldn't remember. But he did. He KNEW me at the very beginning of it all, BEFORE I got lost, and he never lost me despite it all. Through every crisis, every disaster, every destruction I survived, he stayed true, unwavering, knowing me, seeing me always. My heart was so closely united to his that he couldn't forget what it felt like. And so, whenever I would, his mere existence testified to the truth, the bond between us that no brutalities could ever break. Tragically, if I was lost enough, taken over by despair and tangled up in disorder-- how ironic-- I would try to run from him. I'd even try to reject him-- to reject us. But I couldn't. My heart wouldn't tear itself so in half, even though I tried, pretending it wasn't a risk, too ashamed of my own sickness to be sincere. So I'd just hide, and push him away, and bury the light he inevitably began to reveal in me, even though I KNEW I didn't want to-- I, too, ultimately knew it was impossible. And I clung to hope. I held that spark anyway, unable to tear it out of my own hands and honestly unwilling to. But I digress. The point is... when, in the waking, I wouldn't let him get close for fear & shame... God would send him straight to my heart. God would send him to me in a dream. And... every time, EVERY SINGLE TIME, miraculously & gorgeously breaking through EVERY doubt and EVERY wall, the moment I see him there, no matter HOW lost or damaged or confused I am, EVEN in the dream... my heart knows him. And I... I fall in love. All over again. Every time. And my heart opens up like the sky and I remember who I AM, too... with him.
...When I wake up, everything is different. When I woke up this morning, seafoam in my blood, riverwater on my lips, I felt alive for the first time in forever. My heart was alive, aching with love, blissful in the dark of the morning, blessed rain against the window. I drifted like a boat on the sea of serenity, in and out of dreams, and every time I would meet him again, just as much in love. When the day finally called me from sleep and into the waking, I was almost drunk with gratitude and ardor. How in the world did I ever live without remembering this-- without feeling my heart singing like this from the pure truth of what I now knew once more? I know LOVE again, and simultaneously, I KNOW WHO I AM because of it-- within it, for it. I cannot exist without Love. Nothing can, but... God keeps reminding me just HOW essential it is, especially to me, who has ALWAYS been defined by the heart.
So... that's what happened today, to say the least. God sent me my blue angel, to bring my soul back home to heaven. And by that grace, that is where I will stay.

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.

 

Still battling the crushing dysphoria.
Still wanting to die.
Still tired of all the old scars and new blood.

Haven't really been upstairs since the 3rd week of December or so.
Don't really have motivation to do anything right now.
Trying to go to the gym daily. Problem is then I don't want to come home.
Seriously tempted to just crash on the streets one day.
Feel like I'm falling apart, scraped out and empty.

Keep letting go of more and more possessions.
Down to basically my computers, clothes, and old art tablets now.
Completely willing to toss them all too if need be.

When I was younger, I prayed that 12-21-12 would really be the end.
I wanted to die. I looked forward to it, even.
I wanted a restart. I wanted a reset. I wanted relief.
I wanted to get out of this body and stay out.
When that didn't happen, I think something slipped.

I'm trying to smile. Trying to keep on keeping on.
Reminding myself that I am not this body.
Reminding myself that death and life are both an illusion.
Reminding myself that one day I will return to where I came from.
It doesn't make living any easier though.

I feel like an apocalyptic paradox.
I'm still torn between sleeping the days away, or burning them to ashes.
I think they were right. I really am destructive.
Now I've realized that it's just a mutated prayer.
Maybe if I tear this reality to the ground,
a new one will be born from it.

I feel like a dying phoenix.
Waiting for that final breath
that never seems to come.
Silently counting the fading moments
before my bones burst into flame.
The end never seems to come soon enough.

I don't want to sound so demanding.
I don't want anything, I want the loss of everything.
Maybe this is projected ego death? I hope so.
Even so I really do want to die, on all levels.
I'm tired.
I'm so tired.

The stars still bring tears to my eyes.
God, I want to go home.
I still can't remember why I came here.
I still can't seem to remember.
All I know is that I feel so old,
and I feel so young,
and I am so, so tired.

God, please, just take me home already.
I'm willing to sacrifice it all at this point.
This body confuses me.
This world confuses me.
Honestly, the only thing of worth in this reality
seems to be the things I know beyond it.
So why stay, I ask myself?
Why stay any longer?

Don't leave your kid without a father.

That's the only thing I'm holding on to right now.
But nights like this,
I wonder if she wouldn't be better off without me.
But then I remember what that comicbook angel told me last January.

Think about them if that's the only thing that's gonna get you out of this.
But you can't just pull the trigger, go over the stars, and expect that to be the end, 'cause it ain't.
They'll just send you right back down under them, kid.
But something tells me you're gonna get it right this time.
Hell, as if you haven't been getting it right all along...
Tell you what, kid. Next time I see you here,
I want you to be pretty darn early, and I don't want you bleeding, aiite?

Maybe I can survive for nine more days.
We can try again, maybe.
If my heart didn't feel so incarcerated,
I'd have a little more hope,
instead of red-soaked hands and an asphyxiated soul.


Still battling the crushing dysphoria.
Still wanting to die.
Still tired of all the old blood and new scars.

And still I keep thinking of Laurie and the lights.

Aren't things like this worth living for?

Isn't she worth living for?
Aren't they all worth living for?
Last night, all I could see were stars.
I love all of them, every last one of them...

It's not about me though, it's not about me.
It's not.

God, what do I do?



Bury me in snow and turn this life from red to white.
Burn me to ashes and turn these bones from white to red.

Rewind this tape. Restart this game. Please.
Just one more time.
Just one more time.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.


Why am I still waiting?

 

 

 

I really don't know why I bother posting updates on FB.
No one ever takes things seriously.

...Last night, after staying up past midnight to make sure Jesus wasn't Rapture-lagging, I was browsing through my personal art folders and suddenly this awful realization dawned on me.
I've had to bury my children.
I don't care if your kids are biological, emotional, or whatever; if you're a 'parent' or 'guardian' by any standards, that is one of the most horrible things you can feel. And I have lost so many of them.
The problem is that I refused to acknowledge that pain when it happened. I tried to numb myself to it, tried to keep walking and pretend everything was okay, lying to myself.
And then last night, I looked at a picture of them and I realized they were gone.


I just... this is all completely overwhelming me. It hurts so, so much.

Words do no justice. I'm sorry.

 

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

 

@ 08:48 pm

 

 

I really, really need a new way to deal with this. Fast.

I don't know what my thanatos splinter is doing. Do I really need to be destroyed this thoroughly? Am I going too far?
Because really, I am so honestly tired of spending all my days in pain. Pain, all the time. All my fault.
I go to extremes just to make myself suffer, to make myself sick. I take stupid risks for it all the time.
And why? Destroying this body isn't going to create a new one, no matter how badly we wish it would.
And oh God, the nightmares. The nightmares.

But I can't stop. This has been going on for too long, too strongly.
I have a splinter problem and it is literally killing me, bit by bit, every day, consciously, willingly.

To think my therapist asked me about suicide today, and I said no! How ridiculous.
Suicide doesn't have to be planned, it doesn't have to be instantaneous.
This is suicide. This is slow, merciless, painful suicide.
I almost miss the knives. How I wish I could just hand this drive over to Laurie and be done with it.

I can't even sleep now, for heavens sake. I'm in too much pain. I can feel my body convulsing.
I am honestly terrified of what I am doing to us.


How do I stop this?
I can't kill a splinter. But a splinter can't be put back.

I don't want to murder us.

 

 

 

SESSION PARTICIPANTS
LAURIE UBERICH JEWEL LIGHTRAYE


We need to talk.

I had the feeling we would.

No kidding. Last night was the final incident as far as I'm concerned. If anything like that happens again...

I really don't know what else to do.

J, you were two seconds away from suicide!!

I wasn't going to do it.

You had a knife against your jugular. You were fighting the need to pull it down. If you hadn't freaking hesitated as usual, you'd be in a morgue right now.

I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore.

I could have guessed that.

Everything is triggering me now. Everything from ice cubes to nail polish is making me completely unravel, and then she gets in..

...

I can't keep apologizing, even though I mean every word. I think the repetition is making it lose its meaning regardless.

It's not losing its meaning. It's losing its authenticity. I know you're sorry, but kid, it really makes me wonder when you keep forcing yourself into these situations.

That's the scariest thing about this. It's the reality disconnect. It's become... I think she's starting to manipulate it.

I told Chaos about my scars.

...What?

I told him. Last night, when you were sleeping. Now he knows.

...Why do I keep forgetting that?

Because you just told me that you lose touch with reality. If you can't even acknowledge that you have a physical form, it's downright impossible to comprehend that I'm being affected by what you're doing to it.

You swear the hacks aren't hurting you? Because if they are--

Jewel, I'm the chastity carrier, remember? I'm not even capable of being hurt by that, on anything past the emotional level. You're the one being literally raped, and frankly you should be more concerned about that.

December 23rd made me realize the real gravity of the situation, yeah..

And how many times have you been hacked since then?

...Even one would have been far too many.

Exactly. You need to stop compromising who you are, and you need to stop NOW.

I KNOW that. But that's what is the truly fearful thing about this... I keep thinking that I have to compromise.

You don't. I told you, I don't care what other people think. They don't apply to you, or me, or anyone else up here.

So why do I keep second-guessing that truth?

You're too paranoid... not even that. You're too selfless. You're all too ready to sacrifice any and every aspect of yourself for someone else, even if that someone else has nothing but your total destruction in mind. You know that, sure, and yet you keep second-guessing your own moral code. Seriously, what the heck is wrong with you?

Just what you said, it seems...

Jewel, I am sick of this. I am sick from this. Do you have any idea how I feel when I see you constantly trying to annihilate yourself because you're 'expected to?' I put my life on the line for you every single day and you keep bloody forgetting just how significant your own life is. You keep forgetting that the neverending light you found is worth infinitely more than the darkness this world throws at you.

I haven't let go of it. I'll never let go of it.

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 single 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. For the love of love itself, Jewel-- his 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.

Yeah, I do.

Then listen to it for once.

...I try to. Everything else is just so horribly loud.

Block it out. It doesn't matter.

I'll have to keep trying then.

'Try' seems to be your favorite word today, huh?

It's the only thing I can do. I'm relatively safe right now; I haven't been touched since yesterday and although I was very unstable today, I'm not giving in... but every moment is both a chance at salvation and a narrow avoidance of damnation. Every second on the clock is another fight, another struggle, another war.

You're reborn with every heartbeat.

That's the brightest thing about this, I think.

Hold onto that. Hold onto everything you have like that. If you need to disconnect yourself from everything else, then do it. You need to make your soul the biggest priority in your life for once, and in order to do that, you need to remember that you are not the bones you are trapped in.

That's Spine.

Heh, maybe. But she's not you either. So don't listen to what Julie says, because she's basing all of her lies on two entirely corrupt principles-- her exaltation of the body and all the selfish desires that go with that.

So... but I thought you said I was too selfless.

You are. You need to have a bit of bloody concern for your own well-being if you're going to keep your moral code solid and your head on straight. Geez, but you know that already too...

It's not my memory, though. It's my hesitation. The truth can be right in front of me and I'll hesitate, because I'm afraid that somehow it's wrong... and then I fall into a wrong that is infinitely blacker than any honest mistake could ever be. Uncertainty is my cruelest sin.

Then stop being so chronically uncertain. You know those flashes of 'intuition' you get? Follow those. Follow everything I tell you, and if you're unsure on either, then look to the light you hold above everything else.

And you know, it's all about the light divine...

It really is, kid. It really is.

I think there's some real significance in the fact that you're violet. I don't know. I've just been doing a ton of thinking on symbolism, especially with how bizarre my soul form has become...

We can talk about that tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep.

You're right... I guess this was a bit of a repeat conversation. I'm sorry.

Don't apologize, a reminder is a reminder and they always help.

True.

I love you, kid. Don't forget that.

I won't. I love you too. Thank you.

Anytime. I at least owe you that much.

 

 

...
I need to get back into my self-inspecting norm. I've been entirely off-kilter for too long, and it's had lethal results.
Yes, I'm dying to talk to Laurie again, but honestly, I have to be up around 5AM tomorrow and when she and I get typing, it lasts for hours. I have 2, tops, to spare tonight.

First let's give you kids a brief update. October 7th blessed me with at least four new 'kids,' and October 9th blessed me with this amazingly gorgeous picture of my muse. It made my month. The 10th through the 13th were basically spent working on various projects, the 14th was spend running errands with my mum, and today is the 15th (which I spent cleaning far too many things). So yeah. That's my life.
However, during the past work-saturated week, I had two vicious hacks that left me sobbing uncontrollably and unable to sleep. I haven't played Nier in nearly two weeks so that didn't help towards coping, but that personal distress is nothing compared to the revelation said hacks were accompanied by.

I don't remember when the first hack happened, or what happened (as usual), but it took a heavy toll on me all the same. See, lately I've been doing decently well with fighting Julie, having fought off several near-hacks, but... Laurie's been acting rather strange. Not only has she been chronically distraught emotionally, but she's also been reacting much more violently than usual to even the slightest threat of a hack, which is saying something. So when I realized I had been hacked, my own self-fear was shoved aside in favor of fear for her instead.
The moment I turned around and saw her there, staring at me with a look of disgusted resignation... she slit her throat.

No, she didn't die... but only because I begged her to stay with me.
She lost a lot of blood. She couldn't talk or walk straight for about an hour afterwards. I was terrified out of my mind, and hated myself more than ever.
She told me that if I let myself be hacked again, she wouldn't hesitate to finish the job next time.

...You notice I said I was hacked twice.

The second time happened so abruptly and so harshly that when it hit me what had happened, I was overwhelmed with sheer unadulterated panic. It was 1AM. I literally ran to Laurie, forgetting the horrible state I was in, just in time to see her plunge a large dagger into her stomach. I grabbed her hands and tried to keep her from slicing upwards, but she fought me, saying she was sick of us both suffering this day after day, and she wasn't going to take it anymore. If I wouldn't listen to her alive then maybe her death would mean something. I was literally sobbing by now, and I don't remember what I said to her, but it must have helped because she removed the dagger from her ribs and threw it to the floor. I remember trying to heal her but she pushed me away, spitting a retort that I needed to be more concerned about the damage I was doing to myself. I told her that I still cared about her as well, but she then shouted back, 'if you love me so much, then why do you keep hurting me? Why do you keep hurting all of us?'
Then she told me why she's been so unstable for the past 4 months.

I've been killing my children.

Apparently, every time I let myself be hacked, one of my potential mind-children dies. To think I was wondering why I couldn't find them anymore-- I was killing them!!
Needless to say I was floored. I couldn't think, I was shaking. I asked her how she knew... how long had she known.
She said that she first found it out back in July, which is why she was psyched to find Josephina had become personified onto our side, giving her more help towards saving me. That's also why they have both been working tirelessly, trying every option available to save me from Julie since then, no matter how badly they were hurt themselves.
I've been failing anyway, and my children have been dying.
She didn't tell me back in July because she hoped she wouldn't have to tell me. She and Jo hoped that they could get me stable enough to fight Julie off without the problems I'm having now, and if that had been fixed then there would be no more worries about dead children. However... that didn't happen. I'm still being hacked, and the stress of seeing me suffer through that, the knowledge that she and Jo were apparently 'failing' in their constant attempts to help me, and the bloody awareness of all those who had died by my unknowing hand, had driven Laurie to attempt suicide.
I saw how close she got. I felt her blood on my hands. I couldn't take it.
And now... now I understand what has been happening to me for so long... why I haven't been able to draw or write or do anything creative for years. I finally understand, and I feel like dying because of it.
I'm the only man in this entire damn world who can take care of those individuals, and I've been murdering them.

Dear God...

I haven't spoken to Laurie since then. I've tried. We're both suffering so much, but it needs to happen.
If we can't talk tomorrow we'll talk Sunday. If we can't talk Sunday we'll talk Monday.
Lynne is dying, Natalie is dead, Leon keeps trying to come back, Missy and Bridget are lurking in the shadows, Josephina is destabilizing, and Laurie wants to kill herself.
I haven't seen Chaos in days. Genesis doesn't know how to deal with this anymore.
Julie is stronger than ever.


To think that I have the blood of my own children staining my hands.
How am I going to live with this?


How am I going to live?