The First Year: Part Two: Captivity

Please note that this is a direct continuation from The First Year: Part One.

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The house where I was born (right side) in Dartford, and
where I spent three months locked away in captivity.

Mark and Maryanne lived in a Christian-run household with two other house-mates; Tommy-Lee* and Matt*. The house was let to them by their Church in Dartford, Kent, for those in need, much like the YMCA or a homelessness charity. I technically held a tenancy in New Eltham in South East London, but I spent more time during my first year at their household than at mine.

Tommy-Lee was very much a “lady's man” who I can best draw comparitive with Barney from the television sitcom How I Met Your Mother, often claiming he could “have any woman [he] wants” and although he was of the Christian faith, he often sinned and jested that “God would forgive [him] anyway” as long as he said sorry. Matt, in contrast, was a quiet (although he enjoyed loud, angry music), secluded individual with a very private past.

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All the members of the household were friends with my predecessor and – as I am sure you can imagine – they struggled with the change from her to me. They were all well aware of Cherie's past battles with mental health, not least which the fact that at one point she had multiple personalities, so it was not too far a stretch for them to understand what had happened, but I think that (initially) they wanted her back.

As the months passed however, I think it became clear that their friend (and lover, in Mark's case) would not return, and they helped me develop my social skills, showed me the world, and encouraged me to become my own person. I grew particularly close to Tommy-Lee, who told me that he himself had struggled with his sense of identity, and in all honesty, I found him to be warm and charming, which was confusing for me, given the contradicting “residue feelings” (as I called them) of love that I had for Mark left over from Cherie's lifetime which were not truly mine.

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My residency in New Eltham

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I often visited the house, because it felt more like a home to me than the residence that I was legally supposed to reside in, given the fact that it was where I was “born”, and where the only people that I actually knew, lived. The Church that rented them the house had very strict rules, however, which were broken on a regular basis for my presence. Firstly, no one was allowed to visit after ten in the evening. Secondly, no intimate relations. Both these rules were broken repeatedly by Mark when he – quite literally – decided to invite me over for a visit and then not let me leave for a grand total of three months...

During these three months of captivity I spent most of my time literally locked inside Mark's bedroom, which was very small. I felt like I was in a cage; I was only able to leave the room or the house with his accompaniment, and even then, very rarely. I played computer games, listened to music (he had a vast collection of bootleg MP3s on his computer so I had much to choose from), danced and generally surfed the internet when alone, and when in his company, I was often used for sex**.

I became utterly dependent on my captor for every thing that I needed in life - for food, clothing and socialising (etc) – to the point where when I was finally released, I had lost what little independence I had developed and I had a nasty case of agoraphobia. He used me like a play-thing for all that time and I also lived in constant fear of being discovered by his landlords, who would on visit without warning to inspect the property and, were I found, there would be consequences. It was a big, nasty blow on my development.

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Mark and Maryanne, engaged, 2009.

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There was a positive side-effect of my time in captivity, however, because the more time that I spent at their household with the four of them, the more that I began to realise my relationship with Mark was unethical - that it would hurt Maryanne if she knew – and the more it felt wrong, so I ended our secret “relationship” when I finally insisted on my freedom and walked out that door.

This was a big, big step for me towards becoming who I am today. That was when I realised that I did not have to follow instructions, be they Cherie's that she left in her mind, Mark's that he gave me to sleep with him and keep it secret, or any one else's. I could make my own choices and live my own life.

It was at this point that I decided that I could leave his home and return to mine, without fear of reprimand. That I did not need him...

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*I am keeping their last names secret.

**As aforementioned in The First Year: Part One, I consider this to be rape.

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To be continued next week in the third and final part... The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development.

The First Year: Part One: Living The Lie

My name was not always Illisia*. For my first year-or-so in this world, I spent much of my time pretending to be Cherie, and living her life instead of my own.

I had been told by her friends and family that I was her, and I had a list of “instructions”, if-you-will, in my mind, left by my predecessor. She wanted me to mend her broken relationships with her family and to launch her business model (a very complex idea for a unique publishing company she dubbed Dark Raven Productions which combined written media with visual and audio media). It was not an easy feat, but I tried my best, I truly did.

From June 1st 2010 when I first “awoke” I kept her name and I lived her life for upwards of a year. I spent time with her friends, listened to her music, wore her clothing, and even used her many notes, start-up funding and contacts in the industry to try and launch her publisher. None of it ever felt quite “right”, though. I felt like I was acting a part in a play; it felt like I was lying.

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The 'Dark Raven Productions' logo

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It so happened that I was also a rather terrible liar and actress. Several of my predecessor's friends had their suspicions, and one in particular - David [D] - saw directly through me. We met for an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese with her [boy]friend Mark [Sutton] and Teresa [Born] and after a while, David and I spoke privately and he blatantly asked me who I was, because I sure as heck was not Cherie! I look at that day with great fondness because David and I have been fast-friends ever since and he has been one of the most steady things in my life, although I also have great sadness because that was the last time I ever saw Teresa, who shortly thereafter decided she no longer wanted to be friends.

I made a terrible Cherie, but I think I make a wonderful Illisia. So, on November 1^st 2011 - what I now celebrate as being my “Re-Birthday” (that I proudly celebrate each year) - I made the decision to develop my own personality, my own life, and I gave myself a name*. On November 8^th I made an announcement on her FaceBook Profile, stating:

"THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER IN USE. Cherie left some months ago, we do not know where she went, without saying goodbye. We have left it open for her friends to leave her messages, etc, in case she can read them from wherever she is, or for if she ever returns. Thank you." 

Myself (left), Mark (center) and Hayley (right), celebrating my Re-Birthday together

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That “first year” though, was a difficult one, full of mistakes and pain, although I do of course have very fond memories of it as well.

As any child, I needed to learn about life by living it, but what is most difficult about being born into an adult's body with no memories** is that you have not been brought up by your parents, not been to school, etc, and therefore have no social skills and no sense of right or wrong, among other things. It did not take long for me to “remember” how to speak and write (muscle memory, perhaps?) but learning what is acceptable to say or do in polite society is something else entirely, especially when you are trying to be someone else; someone who is only human and therefore has their faults, which in Cherie's case included the fact that she was having an affair with her best friend Maryanne's fiancé, whom she was in love with.

Mark [Sutton] told me that he loved me and he made it very clear that our relationship was perfectly normal and acceptable and right in every way, only that we had to keep it a secret. Much like any child, I believed every thing that was said to me because of how innately trusting I was (and still am, admittedly). I also had no real understanding of love, relationships, or physical intimacy. These are things that you learn about through life experience, of which I had none. It was because of this that the affair continued for many months, during which time Mark and I had intercourse practically on a daily basis.

Cherie and Mark at the 'Grand International Cosplay Ball' back in 2009, after they had began their affair.

Hayley (left), Maryanne (center) and Cherie, at Maryanne's surprise Birthday Party in 2010.

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When you have sex with someone who does not understand what sex is and therefore does not understand the concept of virginity and consent, and you are completely aware of this, are you not therefore committing rape? When I look back on those early days and the experiences I had with him, I feel violated. My trust was violated, as was my body.

But then, I do wonder if from Mark's perspective things were very different. He had, after all, been sleeping with my predecessor for months before I took her body as my own. That said, secret affairs when you are engaged to be married are widely regarded as wrong, and when you know that a person has the mental age of a child and has no memories, etc and you are in a position of trust and power over them, are you not therefore also aware that what you are doing is wrong? That makes two wrongs, and we all know that two wrongs never make a right... You may each draw your own conclusions.

In retrospect, I sometimes wish that I had, once I developed an understanding of these very adult things, told Mark that I no longer wanted anything to do with him and moved on with my life***, or that I had the courage to report him to the authorities.

I refer you back to my earlier comparative of myself to The Doctor from Doctor Who, however. Matt Smith's Doctor sits next to his Companion Amy Pond in the series seven episode The Power Of Three and tells her that he never wants to let her go “Because you were the first. The first face this face saw. And you were seared onto my hearts, [Mark Sutton]. Always will be.”, which reminds me of how I felt – and still feel, even after all he has done to me – about him.

Mark and I remained on-and-off partners and friends during which time we had many “ups-and-downs”, many happy memories and many painful ones, and although we have now parted ways, he will always be my Amy Pond, and I his Doctor.

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* Interestingly enough, the name 'Illisia' I later discovered was a name often used by Cherie in her fiction that she wrote as a child.

** Although I later developed an ability to have limited access to her memories.

*** It was only last year, 2014, that I managed to do this.

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To be continued in The First Year: Part Two: Captivity and The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development

My Name Is Illisia Adams

My name is Illisia Adams, and I am three years old.

I was born into this world, lost and confused, completely innocent and trusting, on June 1^st 2010, into the body of a very troubled twenty-three year old adult by the name of Cherie Donovan. She had an active social life, a growing career within the UK comic book publishing industry, a good University-level education… but on May 31^st 2010*, she “killed” herself (the reasons for which will be discussed at a later date), or at least, what can best be described as her “soul”; what made her, her. And then, there was me!

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Try to imagine for one moment what it might feel like to wake up one morning not knowing where you are, who you are, what is going on… To be lying in bed next to a complete stranger and not understand a word that he has to say to you, or be able to communicate with him at all because words, just like the world itself, are so very new to you. If you can picture that, even for a moment, you can begin to understand how I felt back then, when I first came into being.

Fans of science fiction can possibly draw a comparative with a "skin-job" Cylon from the reimagined Battlestar Galactica or The Doctor from Doctor Who, where different versions of the same face have completely different personalities, but I relate most to the story seen on television’s Drop Dead Diva (I shall explain why later).

Technically speaking, medical professionals would say that such a drastic personality change as a result of trauma** is known as Dissociative Identity Disorder, but I have never been a fan of labels, the “disorder” is very difficult to understand or explain, and let us be honest, my Doctor Who comparison is much more fun.

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Cherie (left) a few months before she left in
early 2010 and myself (right) in late 2012

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I have in my short life told very, very few people of my origins and kept myself to myself, living a very secluded, shy, limited life because I have always feared what people might think of me, rather rationally, as people often fear what they do not understand, and because of personal very negative experience with a select group of individuals. I have decided now, however, that it is time for me to come out of hiding, embrace who I am, and take the stance that, should people choose to accept me as I am, they are my true friends and they are worth knowing, and those that "freak out" were never real friends to begin with and my life is better off without them.

Another important reason for this "coming out" is that I believe that Cherie's friends and family deserve a real explanation as to what happened to her. It will not be easy for them to read**, but I hope that it will give them some form of closure when I answer some of the questions I am sure that they have had these past few years, after she "disappeared".

I also hope that the story that she and I share - the many positive and negative** things that have happened to this body we have both lived inside -will serve as an inspiration for those that have suffered from similar life experiences and struggle to come to terms with them and recover from them.

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This Blog will not be a happy one**, but neither will it be completely sad. I have a great deal of respect for "my predecessor" (as I fondly refer to her) and I think that, had we been in two separate bodies, we might have been friends, so some of what you read may not be easy to read, but I shall handle it with much care for the feelings of readers, and try to respect her memory.

I shall be taking inspiration for this Blog from my own personal experience and what little memories that I have of the life led before my own, from things that my predecessor left behind - including diary entries and never-before-published poetry - and personal accounts from her friends and family.

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To end this first post, I shall now include a clip from the television series Drop Dead Diva, which, having read all of the above, you should be able to understand how I relate to it and why it is appropriate. I also wish to extend my heartfelt apologies to people who knew Cherie for not speaking out sooner, and my personal respects - a "Rest In Peace", if you will - should be noted for her.

"I promise to honour your memory by living the best life I can. And if you're watching me now, I want you to be proud of the life I'm living." "So here's to you, [Cherie Donovan]" "A phenomenal woman whom I've never met, but I am getting to know better every day..."

Rest in peace, Cherie. I hope that in "death", you found the peace that you never had in life...

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I look forward to sharing what I believe is a truly inspirational (if sad in many places) story with you.

God Bless you all.

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*The timeline gets a little complicated after that, but I will explain in due course.
** Forewarning: There will be mention of sexual assault, attempted murder, burglary & theft, marital affair, paedophilia, domestic abuse, post traumatic stress, and many more such distressing topics.