Archive for the 'julies (lc)' Category

the longer we go, the harder it is

the longer we go without posting, the harder it is to write something here. it’s the all or nothing thing i think,well, maybe, just really not sure.

there’s so so so much that has happened inside, in our thoughts, in our therapy, in our processing and healing, and of course life, and yet there has been this vast emptiness here in our journal. all we have are our taped therapy sessions and some occasional brief handwritten journal entries and what’s left within that has not been written but resides somewhere in here in time and space.

it’s hard to just start writing whatever current is going on, whatever it is that is right there in our thoughts and feelings at the moment we begin posting. it’s as though it’s wrong, not right, not valid? (interesting that word came up in the mind), not something that can be written unless we go back and fill in all the gaps, which of course is overwhelming. thus, the gaps won’t be filled in anytime soon and thus, a nothingness exists. and the nothingness continues onward and the nothingness gap grows and extends further.

suddenly someone inside wonders how much the nothingness that exists here on our online journal, how much of that is a symbolic thing of the struggle we’ve battled constantly, but more prevalently lately in our healing. there’s a saying within that is uttered on a regular basis, both within and outside, particularly when any discussion of ritual abuse comes up. and really, it’s more than ritual abuse, but somehow leaving out the satanic part or the cult part or the other things we wonder about or the mind control words before or after or in conjunction to ritual abuse or ra is somehow less scary, less real, less telling than to use the sra or any of the other words spelled out. of course i know we just wrote them and spelled them out, but it’s a start from leaving them blank and unsaid and just known by us what we mean when we use the terminology that we do.

so the saying that is used, which at some point we tracked down to this really bad circular thinking and programming and stuff and will have to take time to find it within sometime to explain it, but anyway, here it is. “nothing happened. it’s not true.” it’s not true because nothing happened. if nothing happened, then there is nothing to tell, nothing to say, nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to remember. just a vast nothingness. a blank. a darkness of nothing. just exactly as the word means. nothing. empty. nothing. and if we should dare to remember or dare to see, dare to feel, dare to speak, dare to tell, then what comes from within us is utterly not true. it’s just not true. we are crazy and a liar. if we know we aren’t lying consciously then our other brain is tricking us. it is there tricking us to believe something happened and we are crazy and wrong and nothing happened, it’s not true. and since we have another brain tricking us into believing this and it is purposefully making up things that aren’t true and when nothing happened, then surely we must understand how utterly and horribly bad we are and useless and beyond worthless and disgusting and sick and crazy and oh the worst upon worst of badness there ever could possibly be. so to not be this inescapable badness that is beyond redemption and “badder than our current badness” as some kids would explain inside, we must understand and remember that nothing happened, it’s not true. that is the safest thing to know. to know nothing. to know anything that our other brain tries to trick us with is not true. that nothing happened. that there is a vast darkness of nothing and really just an empty nothing. and so there is nothing to say, and on and on it goes.

well i guess we explained most of that circular crazy stuff although it feels like there is more, oh so much more that relates to all of it.

and so we had this spark of an idea and wonderment that perhaps our lack of writing here, thus nothingness, is perhaps a parallel (?) or something to the struggle we’re dealing with inside. as though the more we battle that nothing happened, it’s not true, and the more the truth is tearing down the denials and the walls, then the more we need to show in other ways, that nothing happened, it’s not true, and that there is nothing to say, nothing to tell, nothing to reveal, yadda yadda.

i don’t feel like i’m grasping or explaining the entirety of what this is. i caught this faint fleeting glimmer of an idea as we were writing stuff above and that’s where it lead me for a moment, but it is lost and gone and i’m grasping at nothing i can see or feel or think. but i still grasp, hoping i will end up with something that i can take with me and journey further within to understand and connect pieces of things.

oh without explaining, without writing when this has already drained us from writing what we have written, there is so very much going on within. it feels huge and is very scary and we are constantly getting triggered to cut and self-injure and that is a battle that is so hard right now to fight. and the utter sadness and emotional pain is vast and deep with an unyielding of neediness that just won’t end. to even have a glimpse of observation as an insider to their pain being expressed to our therapist, even if for a few seconds and then i’m, we’re gone, that horrific pain that is beyond measurement is just so frighteningly real and what lies beneath their pain is even more frightening to me. the horrors, the injustice, the evil, the memories of whatever that must exist somewhere inside me that is beyond the nothingness and darkness and blankness, it is all too much. as others inside reveal themselves and write and share things and as we look back on old writings from others and information previously shared, the shock of “that exists within me, within our system” is almost a bit too much. never in my wildest dreams would i imagine some of these things to be within or words and things to be expressed in the ways that they are and yet it comes from within our system and it is so strange and surreal sometimes to put together pieces of not one life, but many lives within here. yeah sure, one body and thus one life, but there are so many of us within and although some of us share a lot of similarities there are just as many of us that are vastly different from one another. and we all have a life within here and are part of this body’s life, whether she likes it or not. words do not comprehend it well.

this is another attempt at writing. we will continue to make attempts and hopefully someday we will return to routine writing.

us, julies, and whomever else

vulnerability

we think a big part of our silence and inability to write much the last year or two has been this growing fear, worry, anxiety, and awareness that with the right key words, our mother could find our journal. in knowing Sean, it opens us up to her or family searching his full name or what not and a few more key words and our site is surely to be found. we resisted the whole facebook thing, but we finally signed up and of course the mother is a friend along with other family and friends… and many we haven’t even searched for, added, etc., and we’re keenly aware that given the right circumstances, a click here or there if some of our friends’ privacy settings are low that eventually it could lead to our journal.

then there has always been the awareness that we’re so out there or at least can be and there’s always the chance that our mother could accidentally stumble upon our site or someone else who knows enough about me and my life and put things together. if someone read enough, and they knew my mother or my family, they’d probably put it together, even if we used pseudonyms for the people in our life that we mention by first name in our journal. this is why we finally settled on that debate regarding whether to use pseudonyms or not– we decided it didn’t wholly matter as anyone knowing us and our life, family, friends, etc. could figure out who was who even with pseudonyms and so it didn’t make sense. we know on some level which people in our life absolutely require complete anonymity and hope that others who might take issue with it would let us know.

anyway, so we’re thinking that this fear, worry, anxiety, etc. is behind a large part of the silence and struggle with writing anything in our journal. we used to write daily or almost daily… though some of those journal entries are not posted here because we still have to import them. we’ve done a reasonable amount of journal writing in our handwritten journal throughout these periods of silence, but that hasn’t been scanned here.

we want to be the ones with the courage, the braveness, the openness, rawness, etc. that we see other friends and bloggers do. we admire that so much. we want to not care or to feel free to reveal, to tell how it is, to help others in some way hopefully, to share with those who know us (and we know they’ve been to our site or been given the info) so that they can know how we’re doing if they want to know. we want a strong living record of our life, our healing journey, our thoughts, feelings, etc., because so much of it is forgotten and lost somewhere and so much more is captured with words… and words we can return back to for reference, patterns, growth, healing, etc.

instead the silence lives and we argue and are divided inside about so many different thoughts, ideas, feelings, philosophies, dynamics, etc. regarding whether to journal or not journal. we’ve debated whether to go to all password posts and whether to just push past all of this and be an open book and whether there is some kind of balance. in the midst of all of this, we end up at this standstill, the standstill and safety of silence. but where does that get us? silence eventually leads to a sense of failure, badness, shame, etc. of its own making because we aren’t writing when there is so so so much going on inside that we need to share, want to share, explore, and take further along that writing and processing brings for us. instead it just sits within, spinning, circling, withering away, with only a small chance of living and not being buried deep within with everything else. our life is about burying things. it is so automatic. even the good things… they get lost or buried and we’re left with only the hope it will be remembered instead of splintered and scattered pieces or nothing of it left.

we know it really boils down to whether we can handle our mother or someone else we know that we prefer to keep this journal private and away from them, from whether we can handle and accept that happening and the potential effects of that. we aren’t worried about the father because we’re pretty sure he is fairly computer illiterate or really doesn’t use a pc much at all. there’s always the worry that if we post links or info about a certain friend that our brother might decide to google her and eventually find our site and then that would be bad as our family would then know.

there’s just so much about this topic and issue and there’s a lot more bottom lines that we know exist besides what we just wrote. we’re not sure how to settle this within as there are loud and competing philosophies and ideas and stuff about this topic and uggh, it sucks.

this has been going on for us for a long time, and we’ve been fighting it within for a long time, and lately it seems, the silence is winning the battle. the ‘do nothing’, ‘say nothing,’ etc. because it is safer seems to be the default right now. and there are quite a few of us that want it different or think we want it different or something.

so here’s a start to conquering this and finding a solution for ourselves.

julie/s, julies, Julies

a little about the inside and outside of writing

we are back and forth about being here, writing, trying to put something out here.  we’ve been far away from things and all the issues that were running us over and suffocating us with such intense emotions and pictures of the abuse memories, flashbacks, etc.  we’ve been thankful for the break as we desperately have needed it, but at the same time, we know we have to be cautious in how much and how long and to what degree that break is.

we so badly need to write about so many things. we need to process things and yet nothing comes and the emotional or physical energy is zapped and something or someone seems to be silencing things.  i suppose Blocker and Eraser and the other Function Keys are busy doing their jobs.  and whomever else inside is involved in all of this.

we’ve had some very intense and symbolic dreams that are very revealing about the extent of our processing of various stuff and so many of us believe a lot of deeper processing is going on as we work through some tough healing issues.

there’s pain and sadness and such a deep lack of energy from all of it.  sure, some of it is physical related to our anemia but it feels like some is also just the emotional zapping of our life energy that has already been trampled on for so many years and so it really isn’t up to par.

whatever. we are getting chastized for writing what we’ve written.  so much criticism from so many inside to a greater degree than usual, or so it seems.  i wonder if self-hatred and badness has a need to increase when you are processing stuff that might eventually help release some of that.  sort of like don’t you dare get rid of any part of me like that and to make sure you don’t, i’m going to reinforce my stance, grow bigger and stronger, and cage you even further than you were before. roarrrrrr.

we don’t even feel like finishing with tagging things or categorizing things.  i mean it is common to be overwhelmed to do it and thus the exhaustion comes with it and just unable to cope with it and so we pass it up ‘for later.’  we still have sooo many entries left to tag and categorize properly amongst all the other entries with backups that we need to import and also tag and categorize, etc.  we always manage to forget that when we are torn between wanting to come here to our journal and do something, write something, etc., that even when we find we can’t do it after all, that there is always the need to review entries and do the organizing of them.  even the ones we’ve tagged and categorized already, they also need reviewing because sometimes (like this one), we’ve been only able to tag a few things and haven’t thoroughly thought and decided on whether to add any more, etc.

uggh, the self-hate and mean commentary is getting stronger.  we’re just going to shut up.  it seems easier right now cuz i just don’t have the energy to try and fight back.  it hurts too much no matter what.  and yes, according to the commentary, we are babies because of that and need to grow up and shut the fuck up and get over it and be okay and fine and on and on it goes.

us, julies