Dear Matt [+Bonus Blog]

Introduction

Hello, readers. This Blog is an odd one. It comes in two parts; the first being a "letter" of-sorts to someone, which I wrote prior to their Birthday, but am only now posting after their Birthday has passed, and after several weeks of breathing exercises and courage gathering; the second being the originally composed Blog post, dated December 22nd, 2018. Yes, I have been working on writing this for that long... So, without further-ado... [forewarning: this post is longer than a lot of others]

Illi-ism #5: Every Day Is Christmas Day

Welcome to December, and the “Holiday Season” of Christmas, Hanukah, Yuletide, Kwanzaa and various other religious, spiritual and cultural celebrations.

With this season comes a wonderful, worldwide sense of community spirit, kindness, giving, forgiveness, and other such positive attitudes and interactions between individuals.

Forget for a moment all the stresses, financial burdens, arguments and what-nots, and let us concentrate on that positivity. Some people may dislike Christmas, or may not celebrate it (or any of the other holidays), but even those people will surely notice the positivity that resonates from those around them.

A prime example from my own personal experience is when my then-fiancé and I had returned from outside of Thanet and it was very, very late and terribly cold, so we wanted to get a taxi. On arrival at the taxi place, however, we found that neither of us had enough cash, nor anything in our bank accounts. We were well-and-truly “skint” and would have to take the long walk home in very inhospitable weather at stupid-AM. Overhearing our distress, however, was another Thanet resident who asked us where we needed to get to and proceeded to state that she was “headed that way anyway” so we could get her taxi home with her, without any charge. “Thank you so, so much” we replied in gratitude, and were met with the statement “no, no need to thank me! It’s Christmas!”. It was a wonderful thing, but I know in my heart that this would not have happened were the month January or October, for example.

All this goodness is, indeed, good, but my thought for you today to say is… “Why only at Christmas?”. Seriously, where is all that overwhelming positivity the other three-hundred-and-sixty-four (not including “Eves”, Boxing Day, etc) days of the year?

Did you know that food banks (where spare food is donated for people who have little or no food in their cupboards), charity shops, soup kitchens (where homeless people go to eat free, freshly cooked meals) become overwhelmed with donations and volunteers in December? Yet the rest of the year, these places struggle.

Why only get the entire family together for Christmas? Why only give presents for Christmas, and Birthdays? Why not show each other your love as often as you can?

One of my “Illisms” - something I will write about on a later date – is to “treat every day like Christmas Day”, and I have decided to be literal with it this year. I have recorded a video about what I plan to do and started another Blog to write about my “adventures”. I would really appreciate it if you all watched the video and read the Blog. This is going to be a big part of my life this year, which I hope will really help to combat my depression and of course help others who are in need, as well. 

Thank you, and a “Merry-Every-Day-Of-The-Year” to you all! #365Christmases ! :-) 

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.

Living With Love Addiction Part Two: My Happily-Ever-After?

A few months ago I wrote a very passionate post about a mental condition that stems very much from my heart that makes me addicted to the experiences involved with giving and receiving love; be it friendship, family or a significant-other.

At the time of that post, I had decided to take a vacation from love and to develop as a single, independent woman who does not need to love or be loved, but simply wants to when it is appropriate. No withdrawal symptoms, no depression when I am rejected, no overly-needy or overly-giving behavioural patterns or any other such love addiction problems.

- - - - 

Time has passed, and I really feel like I have come a long way. I had my personal time to develop a love of myself and become a stronger person, and although I have a ways to go, I think that a lot of progress has been made. So much so that – after patiently waiting for me – I decided to pursue a relationship with one Robert-James Brazier who is now my Legal Carer, and my future husband.

Wearing my ring! Sadly it turns out that I am allergic to its
gold, but we are going to have a jeweller fix that for us.

Many people would say that we are rushing into things and that it is “too soon”, but a lot of thought went into his decision to ask me, and plenty of hours of contemplation and serious talking before I said “yes”. In-the-end though, it came down to one simply fact that surpassed any doubts that either of us had, and that was that – as we both phrased it - “when you know... you just know...”

- - - - 

I waited many weeks before I said “I love you” to my ever-patient (then) boyfriend who understood that I wanted to be certain that I loved him because I wanted to and because it was genuine, not because I had to due to my addiction.

Robert and our cat Scratch.

He gives me space when I need it, he respects me, he is fine to wait for intercourse until I am truly ready (and married) and all of my animals adore him almost as much as I do.

Incidentally, in true Robert-James, playful and boyish style, I was not proposed to down on one knee nor at a “posh restaurant” or any such scenario, but rather in the middle of the night, as we decided it was time to cuddle up and sleep and I go to the bathroom as part of my usual schedule... only to have Mr Brazier casually walk behind me and say “do you want to get married?” as though he were asking some one for directions or a menu. At the time I was more concerned with emptying my bladder than answering his question, and I was also understandably unsure whether he meant it or not! 

- - - - 

 

On the other side of the emotional spectrum, however, I also have reason to be sad. I have, in choosing Robert, had to reject the love of another who I did have many pleasant times with and who I hoped would remain in my life, but who sadly chose to insult my choice in partner insisting that he is a bad influence on me and then “Blocking” me on social media and screening my calls. I offered that we meet for a drink and discuss things as adults and try to clear-the-air as-they-say, so that we could try to make it work, but alas, he made his decision and it was clearly not meant to be.

I suffered from severe depression, doubt and withdrawal for several days after my ex-boyfriend Matthew decided to say goodbye to me (via email). There were many tears, shaking, “ifs” and “buts” and my poor “RJ” had to suffer through it all with me, holding me back from my urges to buy my ex-friend every present I could think of to “win him back” which is what love addicts do when they are rejected as I was. No matter who is “right” or “wrong” in a relationship dynamic that I have with a person, I will always try to be the one that makes it better, no matter the cost.

I can tell that having that time to grow alone has really helped me a lot because – although I needed a little help here-and-there – 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.

- - - - 

After his proposal, Robert and I took a romantic
walk along the Margate seafront to watch the sunrise,
where I said "yes".

- - - - 

I have lost a friend, but gained a (soon-to-be) husband. I have taken big steps towards independence and recovery from my love addiction, but I also took a leap of faith and decided to share the rest of my life with some one.

All-in-all, I am really, genuinely happy with where I stand emotionally and mentally at present and I hope that any other sufferers of my condition will read my story and find the courage to learn to love themselves as I did and to, I hope, find their happy ending too. For the rest of you who are not love addicts, I am still sending you plenty of Blessings and hopes for your present and your future in love and happiness.

Growing Pains

Me cuddling my first-ever candyfloss at the Folkestone Jubilee
Air Show back in 2012, looking innocent as always.

- - - - 

One of my more defining traits has always been my innocence. People often call me “cute”, “sweet” and “naive” and I have always held proud to these titles.

I have always looked at other adults and felt somewhat sorry for them that they cannot see the world with the purity and positivity that I do; that they are so often pessimistic, crude-minded and serious. In contrast, I look at the world and see its beauty and its wonder, I see the good in every one and every thing, and to be honest, I have never wanted to “grow up” and become part of the “real world” (as others have phrased it) because I would feel like I was losing some thing that is very precious and should be held onto tightly by any means.

- - - - 

In contrast, however, this innocence I have has also made me an outcast. I find myself being the center of many jokes, more-often-than-not because “friends” use adult humour in my presence and due to my naivety meaning that I do not “get” the joke, they then laugh at me. It is a most unpleasant feeling.

I also find that I do not seem to “fit-in” to any one age group, which makes it difficult to make friends, and to keep them. I am physically twenty-seven years of age, I have the intelligence quotient, lifestyle choices and “posh” speaking voice of some one three times my age, and I have the spirit of a child, being as how I am sonew to this world.

I can hold a philosophical debate or discuss classical music with older people, go "clubbing" with people my age, and play games with toddlers who treat me like one of them***, and yet I feel empty somehow because I do not feel like I truly belong any where.

- - - - 

Likely the most consequential result of my innocent outlook on this world, however, is how easy it is for others to hurt me and take advantage of me. On one-hand, I am happy to have such an open heart to others and to be so positive against all odds, but on the other-hand, I have been lied to, robbed and even physically and sexually assaulted by those I chose to trust, who were able to use what they knew about me, against me.

I cannot always be "angelic", I "need to grow up"
people tell me... Or can I find balance with both?
Photograph and edit: Michael Hare

My best friend stole hundreds of pounds from me on my Birthday of all days and I have not heard from her since*, my house-mate Mark [Sutton] was well aware that if he spent his share of the rent and bill money I would “cover it” and simply put it on our mental “tab” because I was so nice*, and of course I have had several men take advantage of my trust and innocence to abuse me sexually, knowing that either I would not know what they were doing and would not complain, that I would forgive them, or that I would not tell any one.

- - - - 

As much as I cherish my innocence, I cannot hold on to it forever. Part of living life is growing up. Each of us progresses through “stages” in our lives, and I think that is is time enough for me to progress to the next stage in mine.

I hope that I shall always be a positive person and that I will always hold true to my principles of kindness and always see the world in beautiful, vibrant colours, etc, but it is time for me to intermix those factors with more adult ones.

- - - - 

Robert and myself doing a webcam "selfie"

I have decided that this point in my life is what can only be described as my “teenage stage”. I am experimenting with who I am, expanding my social horizons, and even developing a fondness for alcoholic beverages and romance. Even my new boyfriend [Robert] says that I “giggle like a school girl” and act like I have never been in a relationship before! Perhaps he is partially correct. Was I not ready to share my life romantically with another person up until this point, because I was not emotionally mature enough? It also helps that I am now dating some one who is more my physical age**, not long-since a teenager himself.

Robert has a boyishness to him that pairs nicely with my IQ and my innocence and is somewhat refreshing. He tells rude jokes, laughs at bodily functions and enjoys partying and computer games (etc), often leading me to jest that “[he is] such a boy!”, and yet he is also intelligent, and has his whole life still ahead of him, having barely left College. We have a healthy balance in our relationship, with love, respect, equality, intellect and fun between us.

- - - - 

With regards to my priorly discussed love addiction, spiritual youth and recovery from sexual assault, he has also been very supportive and understanding. I feel like I am with him because I want to be, not because I must be, which is far healthier, he is open minded to my spiritually-three-years-old plight and he is very happy to wait for me to be ready for sex.

I am hoping that – with Robert's help – I can progress, but also still be the Illisia Adams that my friends know and love.

- - - - 

* To be discussed at a later date.

** I am twenty-seven, he is twenty-four.

*** I think that perhaps they "sense" my spiritual age, that I am not simply a grown-up.

“The R Word”: Taking My Personal Journey From Victim To Survivor

I had a good, long think about what I would write this week. My life may have barely started (I am three-and-a-half,now!), but it has indeed been eventful, in both good - and bad - ways. My predecessor could compete with me on the drama scale, as well, so given that this Blog is about both our lives, I was spoiled for choice, as nothing particularly “stood out” for me in terms of what I wanted to talk about.

After much personal soul-searching and thought, however, I decided that now - whilst I have the courage for it - is my time to discuss what I have always referred to as “The R Word”, aka* rape.

NB: For obvious reasons, I must advise that some people may find this post distressing, but I have tried to make it as positive as possible, as with all my Blog posts.

- - - -

I have briefly discussed my (here and here) - and Cherie (here) - having been through the traumatic experience on multiple occasions, and it was very, very difficult to write about, for obvious reasons. I have never truly been able to physically talk about it with friends, family or even mental health professionals, either. Even the mentioning of the word in media, conversation, or “comedy”, etc, literally makes me cringe, my heart races faster, I lose my breath, I have flash-backs, and I get very upset. I cannot even say the word aloud. I simply refer to it as “R”, and hope or presume that others will know what it is that I am referring to.

I am not the only victim of sexual assault that experiences this. In fact, it is quite common. Months or even years after such an experience, our assailants essentially still have power over us, because of this, and I have decided that that needs to STOP. I am taking a personal stand against those bastards who do these things to women (and men), and taking back the POWER for those of us they have hurt.

- - - -

This photograph - you would no doubt be surprised to know - was taken not long after my "mild" sexual assault**** last year. I find that it is very important to try to embrace the fact that I am still alive, that I survived, and try to have a happy, fun time as often as I can, no matter what.

- - - - 

I am planning a step-by-step program for myself, which I shall share with all of you, and if you too are a victim I want you to join me.

Firstly, I am going to stop referring to myself as a “victim”, and replace that word with “survivor”. Doing this shall take some thing negative and replace it with some thing positive, and it takes the power away from the man (or men - plural - in Cherie's case) who did this to us. I want to take back my life!

Secondly, I am going to try to say the word, aloud, at least once every day. I am hoping that the more that I say it, the less of a taboo it shall become for me and the less power it shall have over me. I want to be able to hear it without fearing it.

- - - -

Cherie is a prime example of what I am aiming for. She had been through horrible sexual experiences, but remained a sexual person. This photograph was taken at The SFX Weekender, a month-or-so before she "killed" herself. 

- - - - 

Thirdly, I am - and this is difficult given my virgin** status and my attempt to overcome my love addiction - going to take back my sexuality. At present, I am struggling to look in the mirror, to take off my clothing, to find a man (or woman, should I ever choose that sexual preference) attractive or think about kissing them (etc), and the idea of sexual interaction, to be quite honest scares me and even shames me, in a way. I cannot even partake in personal pleasuring, let alone be intimate with a partner, all of which is “perfectly natural” (as my doctor and therapist and friends all tell me), because again, I feel shame. This is quite simply not fair and I intend to change this.

Being a victim - or rather, survivor - of sexual assault is nothing to be ashamed of. The person (or persons) who forced themselves onto us are the ones who should be ashamed. When we feel shame for what they did, we are empowering them, even if they are no longer in our lives, and even if (I hope this is the case***) justice has been done and they are serving time inside a jail cell.

- - - -

Cherie (right) and our mother (left) pole dancing at one of Cherie's Birthday Parties. Again, this is a prime example of how she was able to embrace her sexuality, even though she was a victim of multiple sexual assaults.

- - - -

This is why I am going to promise myself that when I remove my clothing, I will look at my naked body and - much like I discussed earlier with the word “rape” - I hope that the more that I do this, the less of a stressful experience it shall become. I need to keep looking at my unclothed body and I need to try to think positive thoughts, not negative ones. I need to be proud - not ashamed - of it.

After all, if I cannot even look at my own naked body, how will I ever be able to have a consensual, loving, sexual experience? If I were to remove my clothes in front of some one today, I have no doubt that I would literally break down into tears, and I do not have to tell you that that would be quite a mood killer!

I am also going to dabble in flirtation, and experiment with my wardrobe gradually to try to wear things that show a little (not too much, as I am naturally a very modest person) bit of skin.

On a side-note, for those of you who have a sex life to speak of, I have been advised that it is very therapeutic to replace negative sexual experiences with positive ones; which again is about taking back your body as yours, making sure that you are able to say “yes” - or indeed, initiating the foreplay yourself.

- - - -

My body literally shook for the entire duration of writing this post, but I am proud to say that I did not cry a single tear, so there is definitive progress being made here. If I cry, I am again empowering my assailant.

- - - -

If I follow these steps and I am brave, and of course with the help and support of my loved ones, I have every confidence that I can overcome past experiences and move on to become a confident, sexy woman.

I hope that, if you are a victim - sorry, survivor - yourself, or indeed you know some one who is, you will read this post, share it, and join me on my quest for full recovery. It will not be an easy one. As I always say to people (one of my "Illi-isms"): “Nothing in life worth any thing is ever easy”, and this is a truly worth while goal; to be able to take back our lives again!

So, I am sending you all my love and support and God's Blessings in your efforts, or the efforts of your friends or family who might be suffering, and I pray to God that I, and all others, will be able to lose the taboo and trauma of the experience and embrace that we are alive, we are well, we are SURVIVORS not victims, and that life is once again worth living and enjoying.

- - - -

NB: Post Traumatic Stress is a serious condition often suffered by those who have suffered from sexual assault, and although I have not discussed it in this entry, I shall be giving the topic my full attention at a later date.

If you have any more recovery suggestions, do please Comment and share them with myself and your fellow readers.

* Also known as

** Although technically not, I consider myself to be this, as I have not experienced consensual intercourse as yet.

*** Sadly this is not the case with me.

**** This is what the authorities referred to it as, as it was not rape, "only" unwanted touching. I shall discuss this at a later date.

Living With Love Addiction

Myself and (ex-)partner Matthew at our prime. Photograph credit: NChanted Photography

I have spoken in prior entries about my time incaptivity, and how I returned to my capture after I escaped and remained on-off romantically involved and friends with him for years, against my better judgement. Now I must speak out about why.

It is clear that I suffer from Stockholm Syndrome, where one becomes attached to one's capture after such an experience. However, there is more to it than that. I am also a love addict, a person who becomes so obsessed with and addicted to the euphoria (or “high”) associated with love, that I would do practically anything to please a person who shows me affection, and I suffer very negatively if I am not in a romantic relationship.

- - - - 

I have always been a person who is very dedicated to her friends, her family, and her romantic partner(s). What I have discovered, however, is that I prioritise other's happiness before my own and any form of rejection or time away from the people that I care about causes me to suffer from withdrawal symptoms.

Love addiction is usually limited to romantic love, but mine is one of the rarer cases that extends to the love experienced through friends and family.

- - - - 

When I first moved to Margate several years ago, I learned through third parties that two of my closest friends – one of which I had developed a romantic attachment to, but decided to not become involved with* - had got married and been through a pregnancy, all without informing me and without inviting me to their service, etc. This was utterly heart-breaking for me. I felt betrayed, and unloved.****

During the same week that I discovered this, I was also sorting through many of my predecessor's belongings and discovered a signed Lexx DVD addressed to Lorraine (my sister), Cherie (my twin/doppelganger) and Hannah (my mother). I was aware that my mother was a fan of the show, and that because of Cherie having passed on and Lorraine having moved to the US, having such an item might be something that my mother could cherish, so I called her and attempted to discuss an exchange.

Unfortunately, my mother has some mental problems of her own, and this has meant that accepting me has always been a difficulty for her. As such, the telephone conversation ended very abruptly with her insisting that she never wanted to speak to me again, that I was not her daughter, and in her “hanging up on me”.

- - - - 

Myself and my ferrets Rambo, Luna and Hatti

The combination of both these experiences - along with the fact that I was single at that time - was too much for my heart to bare, and I fell into severe withdrawal and depression. I spent the next three months barely eating, sleeping, leaving my residency, interacting with my house-mate (Mark [Sutton]), or even speaking.

I some times suffer from a mental-physical disorder known as Selective Mutism* which reacts to extreme stress or some times even social situations by tightening my throat to the point where it cannot produce sound.

In fact, I did not speak a word for the entirety of those three months, and the only thing that made my voice return was when I decided to take in two ferrets into my home, who I developed a bond with, therefore returning my heart to a positive place where I felt loved, and felt my own love appreciated by others, hence my throat un-tightened and I was able to speak, and after some time, I was able to smile and be happy again.

- - - - 

Fast-forward three years, and I have been in two relationships since then (including returning to the unhealthy relationship with Mark). Both times, I think that I chose to be with the men that I was with, not because they were good men and we had chemistry, etc, but rather because of my need to be with someone.

Mark was definitely not a good idea, but I lived with him, so he was convenient. In contrast, my second partner Matthew [B] was a good man who actually “saved me”** from the abuse of Mark. As romantic as being whisked off your feet and saved from abuse like a “damsel in distress” is, it also meant that the relationship started very abruptly, rather than being allowed to progress naturally, over time, which is not very healthy.

Matthew and I at the Manston International Air Show together.
You can really see how in-love I was in this photograph!

I met Matthew shortly after Mark attempted to strangle me*. When he did so, I told Mark that enough-was-enough, I still loved him, but that I could never, ever be with some one that had done such a thing to me. It was difficult to let him go, especially given my love addiction (although I did not know at the time that I had this problem), but I had to be strong.

I did not tell any of my friends or family what had happened with Mark, as I felt obliged to keep quiet about it due to the fact that he had never before been violent towards me and the strangulation was so out-of-character that I did not want him to be judged by it. When I met Matthew, however, I felt the need to escape from my own home, where Mark also resided, and broke down into tears in his arms, telling him about the near-death experience that I had had with my house-mate. It was at this point that he insisted that he would not let me go home alone, and as the weeks passed, he even offered to help fund my moving to a different residency, to support me going to the police, or any thing else that I needed to escape my abuser. How could I not fall in love with such a saviour; love addict or not?!

- - - - 

Robert Palmer - Addicted To Love music video.
The lyrics sum up the experience of love addiction rather well.

- - - - 

Matthew and I were together for one-and-a-half years*** and – as with any normal relationship – we had our “ups and downs”. Looking back in retrospect on the break-up, it is hard to even remember why or how it happened. When we talk about it, we both remember things very differently, and I am not sure that either of us is “right”. I think that we were both just going through some rough things in our lives and being in a relationship was just not practical. There was a huge fight with yelling and snapping and slamming of doors and neither of us can even remember much of it.

We have been apart for more than a year now, and we have both evolved as people, separately. We are on good terms again after several months of arguing and/or not speaking, and we have both commented to each other about the positive changes that we are noticing in one another.

As tempting as it is to return to a relationship with him again, I have been honest with myself - and with him - and realised that I need to take my time and not put any “labels” or pressure on the idea at all, letting any thing that happens, just, happen, naturally. It has meant having to actually restrain myself from allowing us to go on any dates and to try not to hold hands or kiss, though, because those things are all far too addictive for me.

There are other gentlemen who have also shown interest in me, or whom I am also feeling a “spark” with, but again, I have been honest with myself and with them and insisted that I need to give myself the time to feel real feelings for whoever I develop those feelings for, rather than just grabbing on to the first man that shows me affection and being with them, for the sake of being with them; for the addictive feeling of being in love, and being loved.

- - - - 

Myself and friends at my first public appearance as a single person:
Sci-Fi By The Sequel, a convention held in Herne Bay.
I went on a few dates with Jon - the gentleman in the center - soon after.

Last year I dabbled in “casual dating”, but it was far too intense for me. I was getting very attached, very quickly, and suffering from serious depression and withdrawal whenever I was not on a date, holding hands or kissing. I also unfortunately suffered at the hands of a mild sexual assault by one of the men who was interested in me*, having allowed myself to trust him more than I should have, which has been a major set-back for me.

So, for the time being, I am remaining “single”, but also refraining from dates and intimacy, etc, because I want to be able to function healthily on my own, before I can be comfortable functioning healthily as part of a pairing.

- - - - 

NB: Cherie was not a sufferer of love addiction, interestingly enough.

- - - - 

For more information about love addiction, here are some links.

NHS: Clare Catford: I Was Addicted To Love

Love Addicts Anonymous: 40 Questions To Help Determine If You Are A Love Addict

e-Harmony on love addiction

Psychology Today: Love Addiction

Wikipedia entry on love addiction

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* This will be discussed at a later date.

** This is how I describe it when I talk about what happened

*** Which is quite literally half of my life!

**** It should be noted that I am very happy for them and we are good friends again, now.

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".

Every day that I am in this world, I think myself Blessed. There is such hardship worldwide and people die literally every moment, so the fact that I am alive and (relatively) well is some thing to be truly grateful for, and humbled by.

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.

So, when she attended the London MCM Expo on the final weekend of May 2010 and was rejected a third (counting Teresa and Hannah) time by her ex-boyfriend Ian who “gave her dirty looks” and made her feel “uncomfortable”, she decided to give up, and to end her life.

And then, there was me!

- - - - 

Illisia Adams: circa Nov 2011.

- - - -

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”

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.

- - - -

The 'Dark Raven Productions' logo

- - - - 

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

- - - -

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.

- - - -

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.

- - - -

* 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.

- - - - 

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