DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER: It should be noted that the content of this Blog is not intended as inflammatory. It is my life story, but no harm is intended by its content whatsoever. I have a strict "No Slander" policy. Most of the content is purely of my own personal opinion of my life experiences, but mentions of criminal actions I have evidence for. Any thing from Cherie's life, I take from her friends, her family and her diaries, not myself. Thank you in advance for your understanding.
Showing posts with label agoraphobia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label agoraphobia. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 October 2018

The Once And Future Illisia: aka You CAN Learn Confidence In The Classroom aka DWP Are Not The Enemy


I got an influx of worried and surprised messages after I
posted this on Facebook, because of how out-of-character it is
for me to show so much skin in public. "What happened?!
How are you so confident all of a sudden?" etc,
Well, let me explain how, below... :-) 
Note: The course was two months ago, now.

So, before I post the long and painful-to-write, emotional rollercoaster of a Blog post that I have “aaaaalmost finished” (every week for the past several months...), I want to share with you a nice, big dose of positivity; because this-time-two-months-ago, I was, well... How to describe it, really(?)... If I had posted the really sad post, it would be easier to describe, but let’s just go with “A MESS”, and leave-it-at-that, for now.

Fast-forward a month from that miserable Illisia, and I am semi-regularly going-out alone, filing to make GEEKETEERS (something which, again, I am super-sorry that I have not posted about yet, but, in-short, is me trying to become a legitimate business owner) a business, applying for funding for the aforementioned business, making homemade bread and pasta etc, and even thinking about voluntary work outside of my home, with actual interaction with actual people.

Sunday, 3 July 2016

I Dared Myself To Be Daring… aka My “Brave The Shave” Challenge!

You can find more about my #BraveTheShave efforts over on my unique shaver profile, here.
My name is Illisia Adams. You know this about me, but did you know that I am painfully shy? I am rather reclusive, actually; a bit of a hermit. This is entirely because of one thing, and that thing is fear.
“[She] was painfully shy, which, as is often the manner of the painfully shy, [she] overcompensated for by being too loud at the wrong times.” - Neil Gaiman*, Stardust (novelisation)
My fear is actually quite well-founded in factual experiences. Regular readers will be aware that I have been through some very nasty experiences within my short lifetime, and I am understandably held-back by my concern of repeat scenarios.

I am almost certain that my trust, naivety, friendship and love could easily be manipulated and “taken advantage of” on yet more occasions, as they have done time-and-time before, by both strangers and trusted individuals. This is because - contrary to the pleas of many of my friends - I refuse to “harden-up” to the ills of this world. It leaves me open to hurt, but it also leaves me open to positive things like love and making a difference in a stranger’s day, so I feel that it is worth the risk.

- - - -

So, in summary, I know that I could “harden-up” and be a stronger person and face the world head-on, knowing I could protect myself against pain, but I do not want to. I think that what others feel would make me stronger, would actually weaken me. What makes me, me, would dissipate and I would become like many world-weary, “half-glass-empty” people this earth is already so full of.

The fact of the matter is that when I am brave enough to speak with strangers, I often find a reason to try to make them feel good about themselves. I am making a tiny little positive difference in the world…
Illi-ism #10: Compliment And Smile At Strangers.
A compliment or a smile from a stranger can really make a person feel good about themselves and make their day. A lot of people worry about complimenting people that they do not know because they do not want to be seen as "creepy" (etc), but you need not fear that, simply begin your compliment by stating that you hope the person does not mind your saying so. Smiling at others is also scientifically proven to make them also want to smile. "Smile and the world smiles back", as the saying goes, and it is indeed true.”
– a quote from my Illi-isms.
- - - -

So, what do I mean when I say that I “dared myself to be daring”? The definition of “daring” is “adventurous courage; boldness”. I feel like that is the very opposite of me! So this is me breaking out of my usual “mould”, trying something new, and raising money and awareness for a good cause whilst I do!

The fact-of-the-matter is that I want to experience life and not let my fears control me, but with everything that has happened these past few years, it seems like every time that I start to recover, I experience something else and regress into negative states again, once more becoming a hermit. Which is a shame, because although I technically listed on my medical records as being “agoraphobic”, it is less a fear of the outside, and more of a fear of the (bad) people…

I was just going to “wait-it-out” and let myself recover from my latest dramas (failed engagement, loss of home, weight gain), “taking it slowly” with “baby steps”, but then I saw a FaceBook Sponsored Advert for the “Brave The Shave” fundraising campaign

It occurred to me that here I am, sitting indoors being ruled by my fear and telling myself it will pass again with time… and yet, there are multitudes of people fighting (and dying of…) cancer (and other serious illnesses) every day. These people are looking death in the face every day and telling it/him where to stuff it! They are fighting back, and that is one of the bravest things in the world that a person can do, in my opinion; especially as someone who has in the past given-up and tried to take her own life…

- - - -

My "Before" photograph for Brave The Shave.
The “Brave The Shave” campaign raises money for those brave people that are fighting this illness, by encouraging sponsorship of individuals who shave their heads to raise awareness of the plights of those undergoing cancer treatments that result in hair loss.

… I am going to be one of those individuals. On August 25th 2016 (fifty-four days, and counting!) – which is my physical Birthday (twenty-nine this year) - I will be visiting a hair salon and having every inch of my “locks” removed. I will be campaigning to gain sponsorship** between now and then, and you can of course contribute if you wish (please do!). Literally every penny counts!

- - - -

When I informed some of my friends, the reactions have certainly differed!

“But you can do other things for charity…” stated Daniel, to which I replied “This is more about impact though, not just fundraising. When I shave my hair, I am showing support for all the people all around the world who lo[o]se their hair to cancer.”

“God you[']r[e] brave” – Jessica/”Hatchy” My reply? “Not as brave as the people I am doing it for :-) But thank you.”

Another part of my conversation with Daniel perfectly sums-up what I have been speaking about in this post.
“Yes, it is up to me. I cannot go back now! Well, I can... But that would be so very Illi-ish of me, you know? Getting too scared and "freaking-out" etc. It holds me back from experiencing life! 
You should see my Living List! Some of those things are so, so simple to do, they do not cost money, etc, but they still have not been done.”
- - - -

I may be “braving the shave”, but it is people fighting cancer who are the real heroes. I am not a brave person. I am actually quite a coward! I have only recently started going outside more often and interacting with strangers etc because of my dog, Poppy. 


This is no ordinary fundraiser. This is me showing my support to people that have been through or are going through cancer, in a very graphic way. By shaving my head, I am showing them comradery. Every time someone asks me about my shaved head, I can proudly say why I did it, and spread the word about what McMillan Cancer do.

Add to this the fact that I hope to donate my lengthy hair locks to Little Princess Trust - a charity that makes real hair wigs for children going through cancer treatment - and I really feel like this could be one of the most important things I have done in my life (so far!)…

I shall of course by posting about this again, come-the-time! In the meanwhile, if you want to support my efforts, please “Share” this Blog post, sponsor me, tweet my BraveTheShave profile**; whatever you can do.

Together we can make a difference. Many Blessings to you all, and remember that life is too short for fear! :-) 

- - - -

* I shall be publishing my “How Neil Gaiman Saved My Life” once I a). finish it and b). have the courage to publish it… Baby steps!

** You can find more about my #BraveTheShave efforts over on my unique shaver profile, here.

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited (Part One); (aka Thank You, Hans Zimmer!)

I did not post last week, and I had a very good reason for not doing-so. Last week was a life-changing experience for me where I faced my past, overcame my fears and embraced my future. The concert itself was on April 6th, but before, afterward and during were very busy for me!
- - - -

My fiancĂ© Robert-James and I went to London's SSE Wembley Arena to see the musical genius Hans Zimmer perform live in concert. It required many hours of travel, very little sleep and a whole lot of tolerance of the human nature when coping with commuting aka “Londoners” and tourists in a hurry to get “from-a-to-b” aka “ow, ow, ow; watch where you are going!” as I am being pushed and shoved from side-to-side by passers-by who have no consideration for others (with or without my disabilities).

That in-un-itself is an achievement. For those not keeping score, I am physically disabled and have agoraphobia (fear of the outside) and social phobia, with an occasional dash of claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces). Visiting London required leaving the hidey-hole safety zone of my residence, regular contact with strangers, and when using the London Underground there were some uncomfortable close-quarters encounters that had me losing my breath and reaching for my inhaler.

- - - -

Interestingly enough, the composer Hans Zimmer himself also has phobias (stage fright; self-confessed “hermit”) and what was a life-changing event for me was the same for him, as he faced his fears, stating in the souvenir programme “You cannot have fear rule your life, or indeed dictate or prevent your actions”. Reading this statement from him gave me an extra push of courage to face the crowds within the arena and I enjoyed the performance all-the-more, knowing he and I were “in-it-together”; he was helping me with my fears, and I with his.
“You cannot have fear rule your life, or indeed dictate or prevent your actions”. - Hans Zimmer regarding his first-ever public performance(s).
- - - -

In addition to this achievement, I find it striking when I do a “before and after” of myself this-time-last-year, and the year before. This is because Robert-James and I were not alone; we in fact attended with our very good friends Kirsty [Swan] and Mark [Sutton]. If you are not sure why this is something to be proud of, I shall explain.

Mark and Kirsty in their seats at our VIP table,
courtesy of  SSE
This time last year and the year before, I was utterly terrified of the idea of seeing both those individuals, let alone speaking with them, and the idea of being so close as friends to see Hans Zimmer together? Well, that was ludicrous! I was an absolute fraidy-cat. I had convinced myself that both these individuals would have a negative effect on my life, and I made every effort to ensure that they not be in it. Today, however, I speak confidently of the pair being my “besties” and I would not have wanted to share The Hans Zimmer Experience with any one else.

They even bought us the tickets. (We went "halfsies" on the accommodation) 

- - - -

Fear is clearly a very powerful thing, and I overcame it in leaps-and-bounds. I faced my fears of Mark and Kirsty and I realised that they were unfounded. Kirsty had no ill-will toward me what-so-ever, contrary to what many of our then-“friends” would have me and her (and Mark) believe. Therein we can now see the power of “he-said-she-said” gossiping, and have since decided to disregard third party opinions.

Mark and I have a very complex past, but it is – as the word suggests – in the past. He is a changed man, and he has apologised many, many times for his actions toward me when we were in a relationship and when we were friends who lived together.

I was of course not innocent in my actions either and did my fair share of hurt toward him, the biggest of which was the day that I decided to tell him I hated him and never wanted to see him again, contrary to what I really felt. At the time I decided it was better he not be in my life, so he could be happy. This is something that I will discuss at length next week in “Part Two”.

- - - -

My fiance Robert-James and I in our VIP-upgrade seats.
So, in conclusion, I have many thanks to extend to Mark Sutton, Kirsty Swan, Robert-James Brazier and Hans Zimmer. A very special mention and a great-big-thank-you must also go to SSE for giving us a FREE VIP upgrade! I think that if I had been sitting with all the crowds, I would have struggled that-much-more to enjoy the show, and we all certainly never thought we would be seeing HZ up-close, only metres away from us!

I also have one thing to say to past-me and her fears, as I look at how very, very far I have come, with the help of good friends, a brilliant but shy composer, and self-discovery:
“TAKE THAT, YOU SCOUNDREL! Life is actually super neato!”

Super-neato is trademark Illisia Adams 2016. No, not really ;-) 

Ps/Side-Note: I experienced a lot of that uniquely-Illi dejavu on our trip!
Another PS/Side-Note: "Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited" refers to how I often draw comparative with The Doctor and his companion Amy Pond for the relationship between Mark and myself.

Monday, 4 January 2016

Un-Sticking The Love Addiction Rut

Me with my new glasses. Apparently
I needed them and never knew!
Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned. It has been six, long months since my last confession (aka Blog post). I have circum to sloth and fallen prey to habit and complacency in my day-to-day life. 

Essentially, I have been in what is commonly referred to as a “rut”. Today, however, I – figuratively - stand tall and proudly state that that “rut” officially ends; because today I signify this by returning to writing my (/our) life story.

- - - - 

Week, after week, after week I sit at my keyboard and think about what to write. Some times I even manage a few paragraphs. However, I always fall short of completion, for various reasons.

My number one reason, I have come to realise, and the topic for my “come-back” post is depression and loss. It has taken me a lot of soul-searching and self-analysing to realise that, un-coincidentally, six months ago was when one of the most important people in my life left me very abruptly and we have not seen one another nor spoken since.

My last update spoke about recovering from my love addiction, but I have in fact still been suffering from it.

- - - - 

My fiance Robert-James and I with our puppy
Poppy, the day that we brought her home.
My ex-boyfriend Matthew met with my then-boyfriend, now-fiance Robert-James and I and it did not go well. He became utterly convinced that we were a terrible fit and that “RJ” would be my undoing. He left in anger and sent me several very long, passionate messages and promptly “Blocked” me on social media so that I could not help him see reason.

I respect his decision, but I do not agree with his reasons. I and all who know me well enough can see that Robert has been a huge, positive influence on me; helping me to grow as a person and become more independent, rekindling friendships that I thought were long past and of course getting me through my past traumas step-by-step, day-by-day.

- - - - 

So, for the past six months I have been happy. But also sad. I gained a future husband, but I lost some one that I cared – and still care – for deeply. He and I may have had our “ups-and-downs” but I choose to concentrate on the “ups”, and this is why I miss him almost every day. I hope that he will return to our friendship in the future, but I think that it is time that I move on and realise that I cannot dwell on some thing that I have no power over. No amount of (ignored) phone calls, emails or gifts will make him return to me, no matter though I wish it might.

The problem with being a love addict is that it can seriously “creep-up” on you some times. I have, essentially, been in six months of denial. I was concentrating so much on the fact that I had found my “Happily Ever After” with my Robert-James, recovering from my love addiction and forming a healthy, stable relationship, that I did not realise that I have been in deep, solumn mourning for the loss of a different kind of love; a friendship that has been with me for literally more than half of my life.

- - - -

Ironically, my last post spoke about how quickly I was able to move on from the loss of my friendship. I stated confidently “I was able to recover from the loss of one of my closest confidants, friends and ex-love within days, rather than moping and mourning for months.” The irony is in that last part, where I reference my usual moping-for-months pattern that I presumed I had passed from, but this is obviously not the case.

So, it has essentially taken me six months, but I think that now, finally - though it pains me ever-so – I need to let go, because this mourning-filled rut needs to end.

- - - - 

Mark and I have welcomed one another into each-others
lives again. Scratch missed him, clearly!
- - - -

I have done a great deal of personal growth within the past six months. I have made new friends, rebuilt bridges with old ones, I see a therapist frequently to help me with my traumas, I am going outside more often and even alone, without Robert-James to cling on to, and I have even finally managed to pick up my camera again for the first time since my “mild sexual assault*”. However, I have, quite unintentionally, been holding my self back with my sorrow, rather than moving forward with my joy.

So, today is the day that I send my most sincere, best wishes out to my old friend Matthew and bare him a fond farewell. He knows where I am, should he decide he wants us to be friends again, but I need to stop holding on to that hope and instead embrace the love that I know is real; the love of friends and family that are still a part of my life.

Good-bye, Matthew. Hello, Illisia Adams, still-recovering love addict extraordinaire!

- - - - 

* As stated by the authorities. This is a topic that I shall be writing about in the near future.

Monday, 2 February 2015

The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development

Please note: This is a direct continuation from The First Year: Part One and Part Two
- - - -

I made Cherie's New Eltham flat feel like a home. Here you can see her impressive DVD collection
that was left to me, and how I showcased family memorabilia to remind me of my roots.
- - - -  

Mark pleaded with me to take him back, but I told him that our relationship was never real, that it was based on lies, deception and feelings that were never truly mine. I insisted that if he truly wanted to be with me, he would have to tell Maryanne the truth about his no longer being in love with her, end their engagement, and then get-to-know me for me, not just wanting me because I have the face of the woman he cared for, but because he wants me.

- - - -

It was at this point that I decided to spend more time exploring who I wanted to be, and pursue my growing feelings for Tommy-Lee by spending more time with him. He may not have been “my Amy Pond”, but he was still there for me the day that I was “born” and unlike Mark, always seemed to see me when he looked at me, rather than Cherie, perhaps because he and Cherie were never romantically involved. He made me feel unique, which meant the world to me.

I also took the time to get-to-know Maryanne (as priorly mentioned) and Hayley, another friend from the prior life, who became like sisters to me. Maryanne was shy, quiet and kind, and in contrast Hayley had a very social, perky personality and was always full of life, although both had big, warm, open hearts. This meant that I had a chance to see many different aspects of womanhood, of the female personality, if-you-will, so rather than “copy” what I saw, I was able to pick-and-choose what I liked about both my friends and use them for inspiration as I developed myself. I owe them both much to who I am today.

- - - - 

Hayley (left) and I (right)
- - - -

I still held on to Cherie's name and tried to live her life, attending many parties hosted by her friends, playing on her Xbox 360 games console leading her Gaming Clan into battle in her sted, trying to get her business Dark Raven Productions off-the-ground, but after my experience being locked away for three months in that house, I spent less time in Dartford with the prior life, and more time in New Eltham, developing my own.

I would often insist that any visitors come to New Eltham to see me, rather than me to Dartford to see them, for fear of a repeat scenario, and I confess, because I had developed a nasty case of agoraphobia after my captivity. This did, however, give me the freedom to explore my predecessor's home and belongings, which made me realise that although I shared her face, I shared very little else. I listened to her music and wore her clothes, but found that the clothing felt “wrong” and the music was so loud and angry that I really disliked it.

- - - - 

Maryanne visiting me at my New Eltham residency, playing with the
training (plastic) sai weaponry that Cherie left there.
- - - -
"He often saw me, when I never could." - regarding Tommy-Lee

Tommy-Lee and Mark both visited me and made their romantic intentions toward me clear. Mark insisted that although he missed Cherie, he wanted to encourage me to be my own person. I never truly believed him, however, because he was still working with me to create Dark Raven Productions and still encouraged me to use Cherie's name and wear her clothing, etc. Tommy-Lee, in contrast, told me much about my predecessor and taught me that I did not have to follow in her footsteps, that I could develop my own tastes in music, my own style in dress, my own hobbies and interests. He often saw me, when I never could.

In retrospect, I wish that I had pursued my growing feelings toward Tommy-Lee, rather than allow the “residue feelings” for Mark to win over me. But, I also know that one should never have any regrets. Every decision that we make and every thing that we do in life brings us to who we are today, so if we regret one moment of our past, we show negativity toward who we are now, which is not the case with me. I am very proud of who I am today, and therefore hold to no regrets.

- - - -

Mark and I with friends at the Euro Gamer Expo 2011, shortly after I "came out" with my new name and developed personality. By this point I had chosen to be with Mark, and as you can see from this photograph, we were (relatively) happy together, although you can also see how protective/controlling he was of me, always holding on to me.
- - - - 

I chose to pursue a relationship with Mark, even against my better judgement, knowing full well that he had abused me. Love – even if it is not your own* – can be a powerful blinder to the facts. Sadly, this decision meant that Tommy-Lee and I slowly grew apart. He moved out of the home that he shared with Mark, Maryanne and Matt, and we have barely seen nor spoken to one another since.

I think that the reason why I chose Mark over Tommy-Lee was a mix between the confused passionate love* that my predecessor had for him as opposed to more basic feelings that I was developing with time for Tommy-Lee “winning-out”, and the fact that three months in captivity with Mark had left me suffering from withdrawal symptoms and reliability on him that I think would be described by mental health professionals as Stockholm Syndrome...

- - - -

I am, even now, years later, still suffering from that Syndrome. There will be days when I literally cannot stop thinking about Mark, even if I am in love with some one else and even after he raped me and at one point literally tried to kill me**. It is a very serious condition that takes a lot of strength to recover from, and I am still working towards recovery, even now.

Victims of kidnapping and domestic abuse often suffer from this very serious mental illness, and my heart goes out to all the men and women in the world who are suffering with me. You can recover. There is a light at the end of that tunnel, even if some days that tunnel seems to be long...

It is like recovering from an addiction. You have to keep reminding yourself of the bad times, rather than thinking about how good the thing that you are addicted to made you feel, and you must persevere against your want to return to that addiction and realise that you do not need it to survive.

- - - -

Tommy-Lee did have a lasting effect on me, however, even after we parted ways, because it was his guidance that led to my exploration of my sense of self. It was he that taught me that I could be who ever that I wanted to be, and ultimately he who encouraged me to re-vamp my wardrobe to develop my own style, vary my intake of books, music and television to develop my own “taste”, and, when I was ready, to abandon Cherie's life and choose my own name.

I may have chosen to give my heart to Mark, but the development of my soul – what makes me, me – happened as a result of spending time with my two “sisters” Maryanne and Hayley, and my what-could-have-been, Tommy-Lee.

“Illisia Adams” was born because of the love and support of these three very special people. Only one of them now remains in my life - Maryanne - but the other two will forever be a part of me. I (figuratively) owe them my life.

- - - -

*This “love” was in fact “residue feelings” left over from my predecessor, as priorly discussed.
**An incident to be discussed at a later date.
NB: Interestingly enough, I can find no photographs of myself and Mark together as a couple, just-us, nor of myself and Tommy-Lee, nor or myself and Maryanne and Hayley. Although I shall of course continue looking...

- - - - 

Fin.

Monday, 26 January 2015

The First Year: Part Two: Captivity

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

- - - - 

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.

- - - - 

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.

- - - - 

My residency in New Eltham
- - - - 

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.

- - - -

Mark and Maryanne, engaged, 2009.
- - - - 

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...

- - - - 

*I am keeping their last names secret.
**As aforementioned in The First Year: Part One, I consider this to be rape.


- - - - 

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