Hello, dear readers.
I apologise for my absence. It has been a loooong couple-of-months, and a lot has happened; and that is not even including the things that happened before that that I still need to tell you about! But, alas, my heart is "just not-in-it", presently...
I promise that I shall try and write something soon, but, in the meanwhile, here is something a little unconventional... A piece of creative writing that I penned many years ago which I recently re-discovered which shows a lot of insight into my state-of-mind at-the-time. It dates back possibly as far as 2010. You can tell from the writing that I was still very young because I was not "me" yet; using words like "Hell" and "bitch", for instance. The writing is intended as fictional (I have not, for instance, confessed to murder and been on trial for the crime), but the subcontext is very, very apparent.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 February 2018
Wednesday, 24 May 2017
How Neil Gaiman Saved My Life
Having nearly died again last year, however, and Mr Gaiman being one of the things that pulled me through my hospital stay and the weeks that past, yet again (for the third – and hopefully final – time) I truly feel like it is “now or never”; so, without further adue…
[Please note: I must forewarn that this Post discusses my depression and attempts at suicide and may be upsetting for some readers - especially new ones - but is intended to be positive, over-all. Proceed with caution]
- - - -
 |
| Neil Gaiman. Author, and Illi-life-saver. |
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
The Comic Convention: Before
This is an unplanned, last-minute post, but it is super-important that it be written – and published – within a few days of this week end. Because, this week end, Thanet is having it’s first-ever comic book convention, and I am within two minds as to whether to attend. One thing is for certain, however, and that is that I am panicking…
[Please note that due to my current emotional state of worry/fear and the last-minute nature of the post, my “written voice” (the style in which I write) may vary from my usual.]
- - - -
The comic book convention is organised by a friend of my housemate, best friend and landlord Kirsty [Swan], whom I have mentioned many times prior to now on this Blog. I may or may not (I forget) have mentioned that Kirsty is very involved in the UK comic book “scene”/industry as a colourist, and sometimes artist.
“Kaoticon” as it is titled is hosted by the owners of Phoenix Fantasy Comics in Cliftonville, Margate, and will be held on Saturday and Sunday. This in itself should not be a thing of panic. After-all, I have attended several conventions before and actually have a preference for the smaller, more “indie” kinds. However, the conventions that I normally attend do not usually have special Guests doing signings who matter-of-factually knew my predecessor, and one of which actually actively – even after all these years – hates or fears (I am not sure which) her.
- - - -
In my last post, I mentioned my disappointment that this person – one Ian Sharman – had blocked me on social media. I have heard many a positive thing about him from our mutual friends, and those that know me - or perhaps those that do not, but whom frequent this Blog - should know that I am rather incapable of holding “grudges”, feeling negative about people, and least of all, judging someone whom I have never met, for reasons unknown to me (aka any “residue feelings” I might get when thinking about someone the past-me knew).
I understand and respect that he and Cherie [Donovan, my “twin”], were partners in business and in romance, and that they parted on very, very bad terms, but to this day I am unsure as to why, and honestly… I do not particularly care. I am curious, though, of course, because I am only human and this does affect my life, given Ian’s social media response to me.
- - - -
In my curiosity, and with the impending comic book convention, I have done much research with regards to the negativity held between these two lovers (Ian and Cherie) post-breakup. I have read emails, I have spoken with friends and family, and I can find nothing of any particular use. I can see the emails between them slowly growing more and more hostile and then abruptly ending all-together, but all this gave me was more questions…
Eventually, I did not find the answers that I sought anywhere that I expected. Nor am I sure that I even found them… It is a little presumptuous of me to presume that what I found is the reason for what happened post-breakup, but I am nonetheless feeling duty-bound to “set the records straight” and hope that it will ease tensions between myself and Ian, who I am concerned holds a dislike for me due to actions that were not my own.
- - - -
 |
| A photograph of Ian and Cherie when they were happy, taken by my (and their) friend Simon Bailey, who recently discovered this long-lost image from one of the conventions they had attended together. |
What I found, I discovered inside of my mind. I am unsure, but I think it was from a dream, or it might have been that something in my everyday life “triggered” the memories as is sometimes the case, but what I do know is that I made certain that the information not be lost, and that it be discussed herein. This was many weeks ago, but time has passed and now with the convention fast approaching, I feel a need to share, rather than wait on my schedule*.
I distinctly remember a heart-broken Cherie describing the breakup between them as “he kicked me out at three o'clock in the morning!” to just-about-everyone who she could. Now, straight away I can say that if this were true, it would be a horrible thing, but that I would never be telling all of the people I know about it. Such things are best kept private, and one cannot recover from a negative experience without forgiveness.
Saying bad things – true or no – about a person who has wronged you will not give you closure… and, to be honest, I am not sure that in Cherie’s case it ever did, given the fact that when she saw Ian “in-the-flesh” at London MCM convention back in 2010 (paired with other stressful things), her reaction was to feel a sudden desire kill herself…
- - - -
That is my stance, were what she said true. However, my prior memories of the closure of their relationship indicate that how she described it was a very large exaggeration. In fact, I am uncertain, but I have a blurred recollection of Ian offering that she stay residing with him until she was able to move back with her parents or find her own place, which is a “far cry” from “he kicked me out”.
It was indeed 3am and there was an argument that ended their romantic (not professional) relationship, but it was her decision to leave the property. She called her parents in tears and insisted they take her in.
My memories are few, far-between, and honestly somewhat unreliable, but that is what I can tell you that I remember. Furthermore to this, if Cherie had been telling people what I think she was, that would have put Ian’s personal and professional integrity into question with whom she had told, so I am not surprised by his last email to her in which he states very clearly “the fact that you think I would want to talk to you after some of the things you have said and done shocks me.”…
If this is indeed the reason why Ian became so angry with Cherie and why he now has a dislike of me and the idea of ever interacting with me, I must apologise on Cherie’s behalf for her actions. She was young, heartbroken and inexperienced in love. Love makes us do utterly stupid things; especially when we are young. It does not excuse her actions, but it does explain them. She is long-gone now, and I think it best that forgiveness be given to her memory…
- - - -
Writing this post is literally making me feel sick with worry, and I shall be speaking with my therapist today (Wednesday) about this potentially life-changing decision as to whether or not to attend this event…
I just hope in my heart-of-hearts that if any of Cherie’s colleagues, friends or “fans” that attend this weekend – and in particular, Ian - see me have read this that they see me for me and not for her, should I choose to attend. I do not want things to be awkward or difficult. I just want to be able to report on and photograph the event, without feeling uncomfortable or scared, or making any one else feel that way, either.
Please remember that if you are one of Cherie's friends, colleagues or "fans" and have any questions or just want to talk, you can contact me at any time and I will do my best to help you.
- - - -
Perhaps I shall make friends. Perhaps answers to long-asked questions will be learned. My journalistic and photographic career could benefit from this event, but my emotional and mental state may worsen. I know not what this week end will hold for me, but I intend to write a “The Comic Convention: After” post, whatever the case may be…
For those of you that are local and have a “geeky” lifestyle, I recommend attending. Say hello to Kirsty! Get a signed comic book from Ian! Go in cosplay! Buy things! I am hoping this event will be fun for all and a good thing for Thanet as-a-whole…
</end>**
- - - -
* Yes, my Posts for my Blog have a schedule.
** This is a nerdy HTML coding reference.
Sunday, 14 August 2016
Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited (Part Two) aka Lies and “Chinese Whispers”
This week I want to talk about how lies, deception and second-hand quotes (“he said”, “she said”) can tear apart relationships, and even ruin lives… It is also time that I continued on from my “Part
One” of the post where I mentioned that Mark [Sutton] and I are good friends again now, and “set-the-record-straight” about what happened between us, how and why, and of course how things have become so good between us again now…
- - - -
Regular readers might find that my mentions of Mark can be
somewhat contradicting. Sometimes I discuss his abuse of me, and other times I
have nothing but fondness for him. There is actually very good reason for this,
and that is the very topic that we are discussing today: lies and Chinese
whispers…
“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.” – from Part One.
 |
| Cherie and Mark [Sutton] (far left) with friends and colleagues - including Kirsty [Swan] eating a meal together a few weeks before her passing. This is one of the last photographs ever taken of my predecessor and the first and only time she met Kirsty. Photograph credit and date are unknown. |
- - - -
In fact, I have in one particularly
powerful post many months ago stated my belief that Mark “raped” me, but
also that there was no mal-intent involved. From his perspective, he was having
intercourse with his girlfriend (Cherie), not with a baby personality who had
no concept of sex and therefore no ability to consent…
“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.” – from my post The First Year: Part One
- - - -
The reason that Mark and I parted ways after years of on-off
love interest and friendship was actually of my own doing. After six months of
living apart, I had decided that he and I were not a good match as friends, and
I sent him a very long, heart-felt email explaining that I would be civil to
him but we could no longer be friends. It was heart-breaking, but not nearly as
much as what happened next…
“I wanted to help you grow into that greatness, to be the man I know you can be, but you have to face your mistakes, your faults, accept them, and conquer them, or you will never reach that greatness, and because of how you have treated me, I cannot help you get there, I am sorry.” - a segment from the last email that I sent to Mark, on June 06th 2013, three years ago. The next email exchange was not until October 25th 2015 where Mark invited my then-fiancĂ© Robert-James and I to attend an evening of karaoke with him and Kirsty.
Fast-forward a few weeks from that email, and I have been
burgled. Many of my belongings were stolen, I felt unsafe in my own home, I was
shaken and teary… and this news came to reach Mark, who instantly decided to
come and see me and console me.
I was not happy to
see him. This was for two reasons. The first being that I had decided we could
no longer be friends, for the good of both of us, and he was going against my
wishes. The second (matching our theme) being that many of our mutual “friends”
had been whispering in my ear that it must have been Mark who had burgled my
flat and stolen my belongings! “His girlfriend wants an Xbox, and now your Xbox
is stolen?”*, “Mark is a liar and a thief…” etc etc etc… I am ashamed to say
that I let those paranoid, ill-intent words get-to-me, and I did indeed accuse
him of stealing…
- - - -
 |
| Snow Angels! One of my fonder memories with Mark, back when he lived in Margate and I in New Eltham. I visited him and Maryanne during the snowy weather and we went for a fun walk with snow ball fighting, attempts at building a snowman that failed terribly, and these two snow angels on a hill. |
After defending himself (when he should not have had to!)
against my accusations, we had a hug and started talking again, like we always
did, about the usual “how’s life?”, “have you heard the news about [insert
television program here]” topics, and it was nice. … Too nice…
Something inside my mind snapped
and I made an impromptu decision to end our friendship, once-and-for-all, for
the good of both of us. Mark and I had too much pain and history between us,
and although we had tried to mend ourselves, I decided that the only thing that
could truly mend us would be time, so – for the first time in my life
– I lied. A lot.
I told Mark that I hated him. That I could never forgive him
for all the things he had done. That I never, ever wanted to see him again,
ever.
- - - -
Hatred is not something I have ever felt, nor that I ever
hope to feel, so pretending to hate someone who I truly still very much loved**
was probably the hardest thing I have ever, ever had to do within my short
life. And of course, being as honest a person as I am, he believed everything
that I said…
We parted ways on horrible
terms, and I cried for hours, days and weeks afterwards for what I had done…
but I held strong to my decision, convinced that it was the best for the both
of us.
Mark always felt guilty for the things he had done, no
matter how many times I told him he was forgiven, and I always wanted answers
from him (“why did you do [insert event here]?”) that he could not provide, so
we were stuck in a seemingly never-ending loop of upset that stopped us from
truly being friends, and from truly moving on…
- - - -
I have a strict NO REGRETS policy, and this applies
undoubtedly best here. Though it hurt me to do what I did, in retrospect,
looking at Mark now, three years later, I know that I made the right choice.
Without me in his life, he was able to lose that guilt, not argue with me every
day, not feel like he owed me anything… He was just able to live his life, and
be the man that I always knew he could be…
Granted, he still has faults (as do I!), but then, are we
not all flawed by nature, as humans? Today he is in full-time employment, has
more of a social life, a better relationship with his family, has lost weight
and got fitter, and is in a happy, healthy relationship with Kirsty.
On my side of things, I have had two unsuccessful
relationships, many “ups and downs” in terms of mental and physical health,
found religion, and even got myself a dog. But, most importantly, I have moved
on. Moved on from anger, sadness, and fear, and truly forgiven Mark – and myself – for the past misgivings. It is
one thing to say (and even feel like) you forgive a person, but it is another
entirely to truly feel that
forgiveness inside yourself, which is where I stand now.
- - - -
Now having a functional, good friendship with both Mark and
Kirsty, the topic of the comic book industry (which Kirsty is a fundamental
part of, as an independent, freelance comic book artist and colourist, and Cherie was a colourist for) was
bound to “come-up”. And, it follows, also the topic of Cherie’s “ex” Ian [Sharman], who is a multi-talented part of the UK comics industry himself.
I mention this within my Blog post today because, no matter
how hard I searched my mind, I could still
(after my last mention of their relationship and its end) not find reason why
things became so negative between them. I have spoken to some of her friends,
family and colleagues, and reached the conclusion that it was Chinese whispers
(but also heartache) that were to blame…
It would appear that my predecessor was heart-broken, and in
being heartbroken, she said some things about her ex-partner that (I hope) were
not necessarily intended to be malleus, but which when taken out-of-context on
a “she said [this and this]” basis, could be perceived as such. We must also
bare in mind her young age, her inexperience (it was her first relationship)
and her unstable mental health as contributing factors for her saying things in
a certain way, not thinking about how it would affect how people saw Ian, and
his personal and professional reputations.
- - - -
 |
| This is officially the only photograph of both Cherie (left) and Ian (right) that I can find! A signing at a convention with a fan. |
When my
relationships end, I never have anything truly
negative to say. There is always fault with both parties; no one is innocent in
a break-up. But, as we all know by now, Cherie and I are very, very different.
Most interestingly, I seem to be more mature and world-wise on this topic (and
a few others) than my “twin” even though I am only a few years of (spiritual)
age. More importantly though, is my positive outlook on life in comparison to
hers which was almost entirely negative.
I hope that, should Ian or any of his friends or colleagues
ever read this, they realise that Cherie and I are completely different, and
should we ever “cross paths”, there is no need for concern that there be any
ill-will towards Mr Sharman, and that anything that they heard that she may or
may not have said aught to be “taken with a pinch of salt”. I actually barely
remember him, and I certainly have nothing bad to say about him.
In fact, I consider myself to be thankful to Ian, and to be
a fan. I am not one for reading many comic books and only very, very rarely,
but when I did “dabble” in reading them in my first year, I found his writings for Orang Utan Comics (where they worked together) fascinating. I also have him to thank for my very existence, given how his
“blanking” (as she phrased it) of her (Cherie) in her final days was a
contributing factor to my “Birth” in 2010.
 |
| Ironically, I fear that Ian himself may be listening to Chinese whispers and hearsay, due to the fact that he has Blocked me on Twitter... I feel the irony of discovering this while wanting to link to him in my post, given its topic... Alas, I had expected better from him, given the fondness so many of my friends have for him, but I can somewhat understand his reasons, due to his dislike for my predecessor. I hope that he will reconsider this in the future and draw his own conclusions of me, not her. |
- - - -
In conclusion, I have mentioned before that I have a strict
policy now to ignore any “he said, she said”, “rumour mill” nonsense, and draw
my own conclusions based on what I personally know to be true, or indeed to approach the person/s spoken about
and ask them directly for their views, and I utterly, utterly urge that my
readers do the same.
Words can be very hurtful, not least of all when they come
from third parties. Friendships, relationships and families have been drawn
apart by someone repeating words out-of-context or incorrectly, or (“worst case
scenario”) by a person saying another said something that is actually entirely
untrue and invented just-then.
The rumours did not win. I am presently living with Kirsty and
Mark in their spare-bedroom, paying rent. This would not be at all possible
(and I would be homeless!) had I and they continued to listen to “hearsay”
rather than just speak with one-another outright and draw our own conclusions.
I am more thankful to them both than I could ever possibly state in words, I
owe them much and they are presently my two closest friends and confidants.
Do not listen to rumours! This is something that I am very passionate about and that I
hope you will all consider, moving forward with your lives.
- - - -
* Kirsty actually cannot stand Xbox consoles, so this is
double-y untrue.
** Love and “in love” being two very different things. You can still love an “ex” without being in love with them.
** Love and “in love” being two very different things. You can still love an “ex” without being in love with them.
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, 16 March 2015
“Onwards And Upwards” Or Is It “The Song Remains The Same”?
 |
| Myself and Daniel (cut out because he is camera-shy) atop London, in a London Eye carriage. |
This past week has been a rather eventful
one. In fact, the week end had more excitement than many others combined! It
has been a real “game-changer” for me.
I had decided that a visit to London was
long-over-due, so I asked friends if they were free to spend time together, and
– in a rather unusual (and brave, I think) move on my part – I also invited my
family to spend time with me.
- - - -
For the first time since before my “mild”
sexual assault last year* I packed my bags, booked my travel, and set off for London alone. I had been
to London for
my Re-Birthday on November 1st with a few friends, but this was
different. This was a serious challenge, after what I had experienced. But I
was not letting my assailant control me. The more that I stayed indoors and
refrained from seeing my friends (and family) and doing the things that I love,
the more he was winning, even if he is no longer physically in my life.
Before I got the National Express coach,
however, my friend David cancelled on me, informing me that his grand mother
had fallen ill so he was unable to meet me and spend time with me on Friday. I
was scared by this, but there was no thing that I could do about it, so I
simply accepted it, and carried on.
- - - -
 |
| A photograph that I took at London Victoria train station, one of the busiest in the country, that I navigated alone this weekend. |
During the coach journey, I “made
conversation” with other travellers and the driver (who was very considerate of
my disabled needs), and upon arrival I went to the Disabled Lounge and was
offered the use of a mobile phone by a good samaritan so that I could call
friends and family and figure out what to do. I spoke with my mother and father
who were happy to have me over to visit their home for a few hours, ahead of
the pre-scheduled Sunday meeting.
I soon wished that I had not made this
arrangement, however, because as soon as I entered their home, my mother was
already making me feel like an unwelcome outsider and not like her daughter in
the slightest. Father had given me the misconception that mother had accepted
“Illisia Adams” and that we would be okay. We were not. She spent the next
several hours making me feel very uncomfortable, insulting my life decisions,
my dress sense and the way that I speak (apparently I am "snooty" and “pompus”), and taking
every opportunity to try to argue with me. We were truly polar opposites, and
clashed on far too many levels.
- - - -
 |
| Myself with Cleo, the Donovan family dog. She and I have never really got along, I think that she knows that I am not Cherie, the human that she knew and loved. But she has gotten used to me, the more times that she and I have met. |
- - - -
I was very, very glad when it was time to
leave to meet with my friend Daniel in the centre of London, whom I would be staying with. I was
several hours late after getting utterly lost in the London transport system,
but I felt a wonderful sense of accomplishment, having done it myself, and I
did not panic or cry, even once. I had a very Heroes moment, proclaiming “yu-tu!” to the sky.
The evening progressed with Daniel and
myself playing a (my first-ever in-real-life) Magic: The Gathering game with
his ever-brilliant German housemate and her two friends whom she had invited
over, and there was also much drinking and general merriment. I was initially
nervous, but I know matter-of-factually that alcohol calms my nerves and makes
me more able to socialise, etc, so after a little bit of “booze” in me, I was
able to join-in, and I had a fantastic night.
 |
| Our game of Magic: The Gathering on Saturday night. |
- - - -
The next day Daniel and I spent visiting
The London Eye and The London Dungeon, after I redeemed my Tesco Clubcard
Merlin Pass
which I purchased off of eBay last year, which gives me access to all of the
attraction owned by the Merlin company for the next year, and free entry for a
person whom accompanies me also. I discovered that I had already made-back the
value of my eBay purchase with the equivalent entrance fees for Daniel and
myself for the attractions we visited, which was excellent.
I had great fun at both attractions,
although neither were particularly disabled-friendly. Thankfully with my Disabled Merlin Pass
I was able to bypass most of the queuing. Daniel and I both agreed that we were
glad that we had use of my Merlin
Pass, because we did not
think the attractions were actually worth the usual price. Free, however, was
fantastic value. Obviously.
- - - -
 |
| The dinner that I had with my mother, father and grand-mother on Sunday evening. |
We reach Sunday, and I make arrangements to
meet with my parents for dinner, along with my mother’s mother. I played a
couple of two-player Magic: The Gathering games with Daniel first, one of which
I won and one of which I lost. The journey to my parents’ home had me on the
London Underground and getting rather lost and confused several times, but
again, I did not panic, and I was not late in meeting my father in the car
park, so over-all I was pleased with myself.
Once again, however, I spent the next few
hours tolerating consistent insults and negativity, the result of which is
that, sadly, I feel that I must now abandon my efforts to become part of my
physical family. I respect and love my mother because she gave this body life, but I
cannot abide her company. It is far too stressful an experience. I literally "downed" my galss of wine to help myself cope.
I have also noted that the more time that I
spend with my mother, and the more time she insists that I am Cherie and she
insults who I am, etc, the more I – subconsciously – try to change myself to
please her, and that is not fair on me. I am happy with who I am, and she needs
to be too, or I cannot spend time with her. Hence, I have had to fly my white
flag and accept that this is unfortunately a lost cause…
- - - -
 |
| My room, where I stayed for the night in Dover. Alone. It was terrifying, but also somewhat empowering... |
Sunday’s journey home was also a stressful
disaster. My father and I had an uncomfortable discussion as he drove me to the
train station, where I proceeded to ask one of the staff which half of the
train I needed to be seated in to journey to Margate. He told me the second-half, so I
walked to “carriage six of eight”, where I fell asleep. When I awoke, however,
I found myself in Dover, not in Margate, and it was nearly midnight, so there
were no further trains running, and I was utterly lost, confused, tired and
scared.
I initially tried using a nearby phone box
to call my legal Carer, Matthew [B], but there was no answer, so I presume
that he was asleep, given the hour. I had no access to Wi-Fi and no phone
numbers for any of the locals that I knew, and the taxis waiting outside the
station would have charged goodness-knows-how-much for the journey back home,
so after a few minutes of tears and shaking, I decided to be brave and approach
the local pub - The Priory Pub/Hotel - for help.
I am glad that I did, because the
“regulars” and the staff, etc, were all wonderfully understanding of my plight
and helpful to a fault. They got me a Single room for the night for £25, and
spoke with me until I had calmed. The scotch that I purchased was also a big
help, and a very reasonable price. I made friends, and I “chilled-out” enough
to fall asleep fairly quickly when the pub closed for the night and it was time
to close my eyes and rest.
The next day I had breakfast there and then
arranged for a friend to meet me at Ramsgate Station. I am now borrowing use of
his laptop to write this Blog post, as I am still not home as yet, but I shall
be soon enough.
- - - -
 |
| The external view of the Donovan home. It is lovely and cosey! |
- - - -
I had every intention of this week’s Blog
post being titled Onwards And Upwards, and being centered around my efforts to
form a mother-daughter bond and how we are moving forward and being a family at
last, with a group photograph to share with you all, etc. Unfortunately, the
fantasy did not match the reality.
However, in retrospect, there was indeed a
lot of moving onwards and upwards, just not in the way(s) that I had hoped. I
travelled alone, socialised, and even managed to maintain my “cool” through
extreme stresses.
- - - -
A lot has stayed unchanged, however. I am
still living alone in Margate,
still held back here by many of my fears (several assaults, for a start) and
the constraints of a physically disabled person. Add to the mix the fact that I
am starting to realise I seem to be incapable of relaxing in Thanet, compared
to London, where when I visit, even though my surroundings are new and things
are a little noisy, etc, I feel happier and healthier and stronger as a person.
Which leads me to wonder, if I stay in Thanet, am I holding myself back? Will
“The Song Remain[s] The Same”? Or could I consider saving up money to move back
to London?
I have a lot of thinking to do. But, there
is no rush. I am still very young, and I know that I have friends who will help
me through these decisions to hopefully a more positive future.
- - - -
NB: I shall be seeking compensation from National Rail for the distress and the money that I had to spend because of them.
* To be discussed at a later date.
Monday, 23 February 2015
Gone Girl: What Really Happened?
 |
| A photograph I took of myself after I dyed my hair red and re-vamped my wardrobe so that I was more "Illi" and less "Cher". |
The circumstances for
my birth, however, are much less positive than I am. As I have
discussed priorly, it has been quite a difficult few years to start
for me, but nothing truly compares to the things that my predecessor
lived through that led her to her eventual (mental/spiritual)
“suicide”. It pains me to think about it, let alone write it, but
the least that I could do for her giving me this life is to tell her
story; even the horrific parts of it.
- - - -
Rather shockingly but
matter-of-factually, I cannot count the amount of people that
sexually assaulted Cherie on both my hands.
Examining her medical
records, reading her diary entries and speaking with her friends and
family, it is clear that from a young age (as early as three years
old), Cherie had a lot of mental problems that were a result of
physical and sexual trauma. She developed voices in her head,
multiple personalities (Dissociative Identity Disorder), and often retreated to a fantasy world rather
than face reality.
"Over the years I built mental barriers so that I could move on with my life, but that trauma was always there." - Cherie writes about her battle with mental health.
These problems carried
over into her teenage years, where she began seeing a child
psychiatrist at Highpoint
House on Shooters Hill, and continued to do so until after she
left school.
- - - -
 |
| Cherie graduating Hadlow College. |
Against all odds***,
she passed her GCSEs at Eltham Hill Technology College with the help
of a “special consideration” percentage added to all of her
scores and extra time to finish exams, and went on to study a
National Diploma in Animal Management at Hadlow College's London
Campus in Mottingham, which she also passed.
June
of 2005 was her first experience on “the convention circuit”
when she attended the London MCM Expo, “cosplayed” (costume-play)
and made many friends.
She experimented with
various professionals, from being a professional geek in the form of
a cosplayer and “booth babe” to an internet radio presenter, to
the simplicity of animal care at her local pet store. I respect that
she was able to maintain professionalism, given all of her continuing
mental problems.
It was in 2006,
however, that her life plummeted into complications when she met one
Mark Byrne, an Irish convention-goer who took advantage of her good
nature and caused Cherie to have a complete relapse in her progress,
and rather extremely, run away from home with a man whom she barely
knew; Ian [Sharman].
- - - -
"I did fight back at first but you lose so much strength trying to fight him off..." - Cherie writing about her experience with her assailant, Mark Byrne.Mark was her friend for many months where they became quite close and she entrusted him with many of her secrets and weaknesses. He would often visit her home in Kidbrooke, where she lived with her parents, and it was here when her parents were home one day that he gave the three of them a sob-story about homelessness being inevitable. This led to an invitation to take up temporary residence with the Donovan family, and where Mark's true nature came to light...
I am not sure of the
details of how it started as her diary entries and what she told her
friends of the matter are all very limited. I do know, however, that
for several months Mark lived in Cherie's bedroom on the bottom
“bunk” and during this time he began assaulting her physically,
emotionally and sexually.
Even on her own
Birthday (her diary is very clear about this) she had to “fight him
off”, and although she had friends over for a small party at her
home, she never mentioned her plight to any one, for fear of her
safety, and theirs. Mark made it very clear to her that if she told
any one, there would be violent consequences.
- - - -
Mark told Cherie that
he had a second personality who was the one who was actually abusing
her, and that his primary personality meant her no harm. I am not
sure how true or even how plausible that claim is, but I do know that
it was another reason why she kept quiet; the friendship that she
cherished with the primary persona, who cared for her where the other
abused her.
 |
| Cherie and her parents at her Birthday Party in 2005. |
Cherie's parents were
blissfully unaware of what was happening to her, although I am
reliably informed that her behaviour drastically changed during this
period with angry outbursts, her punching a hole through her bedroom
window and her cutting off most of her hair with a cheese knife,
amongst other things, presumably as a way of crying out for help,
without actually making her abuse known. She even “acted out” at
her parents' re-marriage in Wales***, which is something that her
mother never forgave her for.
There was even a period
of time when the parent Donovans left home – perhaps to go on
holiday, I am unsure – and during this period there was no one or
nothing to protect Cherie from her attacker, as it was just the two
of them residing there.
I am unsure how far the
assaults went; whether it was unwanted touching or if there was
actual unconsensual penetration (rape) involved.
- - - -
"When he left, and Ian came into my life, he offered me a way out, and I took it. I was not strong enough to stay there. I could not face anyone after what I had been through, least of all you and dad. I cut off everyone – not just family, but friends as well – and started a new life with him. I thought that it would be better that way. Running away was my solution. I knew that you would hate me for it, but I felt that I had no choice." - Cherie writes to her parents about her choice to run away.
 |
| Cherie in her 'She-Hulk' cosplay at MCM Expo, May 2006, shortly before she ran away with Ian. |
It was as a result of
this experience with Mark that, when Cherie spoke with her new friend
Ian about the experience (presumably because it is easier to speak
with some one new than some one you have known a long time, about
some thing so shaming), she jumped at his offer to return to his
residency in Gillingham, Kent, after they spent the weekend at MCMExpo together.
She never left***. As a
result, her relationship with her parents and her friends was
permanently damaged.
She and Ian were in a
relationship until November 2008, when she returned home in the
middle of the night after a break-up fight.
- - - -
 |
| Cherie and her mother with 'Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang' car one month after her return to her family in 2008. |
The tension between her
mother and herself was very clear, especially since Cherie still
refused to explain why she left. She moved into her first (and last)
lone residency in New Eltham.
Through mutual College
friends, Cherie's social life expanded to Dartford, where she met
Mark, Maryanne, Hayley and the others, and gradually began her affair
with the prior.
Although Teresa (her best friend since College) and Cherie remained in touch during her years in
Gillingham living with Ian and Cherie was able to tell Teresa about
her experience with “the other Mark”, the two of them slowly grew
apart, likely due to the increasing amount of time that she was
spending with Mark [Sutton] and the secrets that she kept from her
“bestie”, who never knew of the affair, although she had her
suspicions.
- - - -
 |
| Cherie with her friend Christopher and her then-boyfriend Ian, a few months before their breakup. |
Fast-forward to May
2010 and we have Cherie emailing her ex-boyfriend Ian who tells her
that “the
fact that you think I would want to talk to you after some of the
things you have said and done shocks me.”,
suggesting that he was angry at her for some reason*. Teresa is also
engaged to be married and has invited Cherie to be her Bridesmaid.
Efforts are also being made to mend the relationship with her family.
After a holiday away
with her lover Mark, Cherie feared she might be pregnant. She asked
that Mark and/or Teresa if they would attend a sexual health clinic
with her for a pregnancy test, and because she believed that her past
experiences with sexual assaults combined with her new “sexually
active” status would mean that the responsible thing to do would be
to be tested for any sexually transmitted diseases.
It was at this point
that Cherie had a breakdown. When she recovered, she spoke with Mark
about what had caused it, insisting that she had remembered being
sexually assaulted by not only one, but multiple assailants, at the
same time****. Whether there is any truth to this, I do not know. But
I can tell you that she truly believed it, and that it traumatised
her.
 |
| Cherie's best friend Teresa and her fiance Richard. |
She turned to Teresa
for council, but was turned away, having missed an important wedding
planning appointment that she promised to attend. Cherie called
Teresa to try to explain what she remembered and what she had been
through, but she decided instead that it would be better to lie to
Teresa than to share such horrible information, given her current
state of engaged/pre-wedding euphoria. This decision meant that they
were no longer friends, but Cherie felt that it was a fair exchange
for Teresa's continued happiness, rather than the sadness that would
result in her friend knowing the truth.
- - - -
Another phone call –
on the same day – was made to Hannah, Cherie's mother, after her
tear-inducing break-up with Teresa. Cherie decided at this point that
it was a “make it or break it” day for her relationships, so she
finally told her mother about the various things that she had been
through over the years that she had been keeping from her. She
apologised for her erratic behaviour and for being a bad daughter,
insisting that it was not her fault that she was so “messed up”,
but, much like with Teresa, she was again rejected.
She then proceeded to
write “The Last Will & Testament Of Cherie-Louise Donovan” (where I found my quotes I have included here),
which is five pages of apologies, regrets, confessions and “I love
you[s]” with no paragraphing and
a grand total of twenty-three thousand one-hundred and forty-four
characters**. It is quite a chore to read, but it is clear from its
contents that she had given up on life and had every intention of
committing suicide at this point.
- - - -
I hope that this answers some questions that people likely had. If you have any more, I have a 'Ask Me Anything' post.
- - - -
* I have absolutely no
idea about this, no matter how many emails and diary entries that I
read.
** Roughly three-times
the length of my longest Blog entry!
*** To be discussed at
a later date.
**** This is known as
“gang rape”
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