lost as i was
yet knowing where to go
but lost i stayed
and forgotten.

this home, oh ye forgot
in the forefront of ye mind
but in the crevices
thy home lurked
ever reminding me how lost
i was staying
and losing my way.

is it ye or is it me
or is it I that will see
how lost we’ve come to be.

months go by
and years of little words
that fill this home
but in the pockets of thy home
hidden in secret passageways
words and time have passed
and locked away each their own.

perhaps we will stay
in this home we’ve longed for
yet parted ways with
as we filled ourselves
with fear and worry
of those that would find
our home and we would
surely die from the knowing.

is it true, thy saying
of the truth and freedom
or is it just farce
that will shred
what little is left of us?

shall we worry
if thy mother should know
or the ones who watch
and surely know
we are asking for death
for that is the price we pay
when silence is spoken.

and what of the people
who may find that all of we
and all that has passed
and made us a we,
what would they say
and think and do
if they knew the real us
that we once dared to show
and open thy doors of our home
for all to see, but alas, only here
for our home to them
is but a mask they see.

how crazy we must be
for being open for all to see
and yet others do
while others don’t
and which is right
and which is wrong
we don’t know for us.

and so we come
tip toeing our way home
peeking out through thy corners
lifting the curtains and opening
the windows and taking deep breaths
to write here once more again.

a bunch of us writing which is why it is so different and not so great throughout but it is what it is

p.s. our home we talk about is really our online journal

we have some big family stuff going on that we figured out is ultimately “our fault” because we have been changing family dynamics or family stuff and so of course the family is going to react. i can’t remember all the psych terminology and symbolism we’ve heard many times in classes and by people educating us about basics but i know what it is, even though we lack the words and explanation for it. we are scared of what seems like a big blow up about to happen in our family. the reality is that more secrets are on the verge of being revealed and that scares us because our whole life has been about keeping them around our family and now they want to know and they think they really want to know but that is fucking dangerous and frightening to us especially since they really aren’t supportive. so we’ll tell some and let Sean explain some stuff that we just can’t do as well or as strongly and keep the rest because we aren’t fucking crazy and suicidal and know that some secrets are massively supposed to be kept. i.e. the other people, the cult, the ritual abuse whatever the fuck it is that happened to us shit. that won’t be told. at all. they really don’t believe the neighbor boy, let alone my father shit, and so i ain’t even going down that other road. that road is the most terrifying of all to tell.

in the meantime some wizard of oz programming stuff has come out in different ways in the last 2 weeks. just tonight and then again sometime in the last week and a half, and both very unexpectedly. we heard for some time there was wizard of oz stuff and know where it is on the system grid internally but have no other info about it. but now we just got some more nasty stuff said by someone(s) inside in our handwritten journal and i think some programming stuff that i just had no idea about and for once i think i believe it instead of automatically condemning it and analyzing the hell out of it so i can convince myself my other brain is tricking me and i’m the crazy one and especially if i believe the tricks my brain is playing on me to get me to believe it is real and from my subconscious when it isn’t but just my crazy self with my crazy brain that is just trying to convince me to believe something that isn’t real and isn’t true. oh how that doesn’t sound so much along the lines of “nothing happened. it’s not true.” “it’s not real and so it isn’t true.” if you believe any of it, you’re just crazy. you’re crazy because you have a crazy brain that likes to trick you into believing it is real and true but it isn’t–that’s just your brain playing tricks on you.

i don’t want to believe any of this is real. but really, wizard of oz shit was the furthest from my mind tonight. and the writing in the journal began with how much they hate Julie and how much she needs to die. and then it went on about something else and then they said something that triggered the wizard of oz programming stuff suddenly and then it just spilled out. sort of like last time. it just spilled out this last week about some other thing very different (or so it seems) about the wizard of oz stuff.

and we are really divided as to whether to password protect this or not. it’s scary to say these things. to tell them. to put them out there. it feels like we’re saying so much and telling far too much and yet we haven’t even told any details. we haven’t said what is in those journals and what we’ve come across. we haven’t explained how innocent things have suddenly lead us without awareness to the wizard of oz stuff and connections.

i feel emotional and scared and someone is reminding me about our need to throw up earlier when we read what the others wrote in the journal but that is gone now with an intellectual knowledge about it, as though it still is nearby but disconnected.

we just need to go. that’s all i know.

us, julies, ??

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

There is so much more to say about her passing, her loss, our grief, and our processing of this news. I guess we aren’t quite ready to delve into it and we are also just utterly exhausted and overwhelmed at the next few days and everything else externally that is screaming at us that needs our attention immediately with energy we just don’t have, and yet we have to find it, as it has reached critical emergency problematic levels.

Most of January we were out of town with Sean visiting his grandmother and other relatives as his grandmother was dying and then she did pass away. She was a great woman that I didn’t have nearly enough time to get to know and whom Sean was pretty close to. I’m just glad that I was able to meet her and spend time with her a little bit in visits since getting to know Sean. I didn’t see her at her best, but there were times when she was more ‘present and coherent’ than at other times we visited, and I feel touched to have known her delightful self.

Leaving the house is a hard thing for us to do, but leaving town is even more challenging. We always need many days or lots of time to recover from being gone. We didn’t have access or convenient access to the Internet while we were away and so that is part of why we haven’t been back to journal until now.

We wish to thank everyone for their responses and we will respond more directly very soon. We’re still just trying to get a handle and grip on life and regaining some ground since coming home.

In many ways we’re still divided about journaling, but it does seem like the shift is more towards journaling and taking the risks that our mother or someone (that we don’t want to know) finds it and just trying to take the ‘screw it’ attitude if they do. The purpose of this journal is supposed to be for us and then for anyone else who may find something helpful or useful to them. There is more to say about that. Perhaps instead of trying to process it internally we need to just process it externally in our journal about the process and divided thoughts and feelings about journaling openly here as well as scanning our handwritten journal here. Ha. What a concept. Journaling about our attempts to process something internally in order to sort something out, particularly as it relates to journaling here.

So much going on, but we’ve been wanting to update, and this was our attempt to update. I guess we’ll tackle the journaling processing as well as the processing of our loss of our friend, someone we’ve been wanting to reconnect with over the years.

Julies (and others around too, just not sure who)

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

we stand here
waiting for you
to come around
to our side.

you don’t want what we know
yet you seek it
then run and hide
such is your way.

desperately come
desperately go
that is your way
asking then hiding
and locking yourself away
from us

you think it is gone
the pain that was so real
as though we are fine
and it wasn’t real
but it is
if you looked again
and stood with us
for the pain
consumes us
and spreads
like molten lava
and poison in the lands

there is no love
here or there
just lock us away
and we know our bad
will be our good
of silence
evermore
hidden
so as to not knock at your door

when will you knock?
when will you stay?
when will you not run away?

our pain is our own
yet you can’t stand to be close to it
as if it will swallow you up
and sink you in its quicksand
but who cares
just leave us here
like you always do

you lack function
like we do

someday it will be edited in a more readable format to closely resemble how it sounds to us

mirror child
mirror child
where do you look
tonight
don’t see what you think you see
don’t want for nothing more
for it to be unreal

mirror child oh
mirror child
let’s find you here
still
standing shattered
to your core

mirror child oh
mirror child
lest you must know
it all be real

mirror child
oh mirror child
i will find you
more
than you want
to go looking for
watch out where you go
for the lookers will find
you and eat you
and lock you away
forever more

mirror child oh
mirror child
stop now before
you take us away
into a land far away
withering naked
and dying
for the steps you take

mirror child oh
mirror child
come now won’t you play
oh how we know
it isn’t what we say
for you ought to know
what we say is untrue
for you that is
but not for us
for it is real and true

mirror child oh
mirror child
the opposite must be true
for you and us
that is how it works
don’t you see
now

mirror child oh
mirror child
there is no merging
to be done
no forging of ways
of thinking and believing
we are forever bound to be
mirror children
for all to see
and be

it is believed this to be written by the others