Showing posts with label rape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rape. Show all posts
Sunday, 26 April 2020
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. |
Sunday, 11 December 2016
Living With Sleep Paralysis
The time is 02:43 and I am not sleeping. This is not because
I am not tired; I am. This is not because of insomnia; I do not suffer from
that ailment. This is because of fear.
I am afraid, because in the past week I have been in four
comas, all be they temporary ones. My body has spent literally entire days in a
state of utter stillness, and when I finally awake, I feel weakened, stiff,
ache-y, tired (ironically), dehydrated, malnourished, and depressed.
Now, unless you have been in a comatose state – temporary or
long-term – you will not have an understanding as I do, and that is why this
post is so important. The condition that ails me is actually called “Sleep
Paralysis” and is very rare, mostly unheard of by the general public, and
misunderstood by many.
- - - -
I slept for seventeen hours yesterday. Seventeen wasted
hours, that I could have spent living my life. My “record”, however, is three
days. During this three day period, I was unable to move, speak nor open my
eyes, but I could feel everything,
including the embarrassing, humiliating, incredibly uncomfortable feeling of “relieving
myself” during these hours, away from the bathroom and in my undergarment,
requiring a thorough shower when I awoke…
However, this is not the worst thing that has happened to me
during one of these “comas”… Unfortunately, when one is unable to move one is
at one’s most vulnerable, and, unable to defend myself or at the very least say
“no”, I have been through several incidents of sexual intimacy that I did not
want.
One such incident was when I was sleeping beside a gentleman
that I was in a relationship with at the time. He “thought that it would be
nice”, that I would “enjoy it” if he removed my underwear and intimately
touched me. Given how he and I had only recently got passed the point of kissing and nowhere near the point of sexual intimacy of any kind (even exterior), the
fact that he did this was a big setback for us, and when I awoke I locked
myself in the bathroom and cried for an hour. We did not see each other for
several weeks after this, but I was able to forgive him after much apologising
on his part.
Another more recent occurrence was when my date and I were
travelling to London on a train to see a theatre production and I feel asleep
during the journey, only to find that I could not move, speak or see. Hurrah.
Not knowing this (although being aware of my sleep paralysis) was the case, the
aforementioned date began kissing, nibbling and caressing my neck. When we
arrived at London and he was unable to wake me, he had to telephone an ambulance
and our date was cancelled.
- - - -
I have it easy compared to my twin, however. The sleep
paralysis is a “defence mechanism” that has been carried-over from her lifetime
of using this body. From what I can tell, she basically decided it was easier
to “zone-out”, go numb and unresponsive etc, than to fight against herattacker, Mark [Bryne]. After all, what “fun” is sexually assaulting someone if
they do not struggle?.. It is shocking logic, but if you know anything about
rapists, you know that it can actually oftentimes be the case. Whether it
worked or not, I do not know, as I have – thankfully – little access to those
memories.
Sleep paralysis I believe was also the reason why Cherie
missed her “nana’s” funeral service. Was she “defending herself” against dealing
with the loss, perhaps?..
I honestly have no idea what causes it with me, however. It
seems utterly random, and I feel completely defenceless and I hate it. Other problems that I face, I
have at least a small amount of personal control over, but with this, I do not.
It is a terrifying experience and it steals time from me.
Time is so, so precious, especially for me, given how I was born into atwenty-three year-old’s body, so wasting time and having no power of it makes
me very cross with myself…
- - - -
Whether or not I will ever learn to control this, I do not
know. I do know, however, that it is
important to share this ailment with you all, however. If you know any one who
is experiencing any thing similar, or heaven forbid you are yourself, then
please, please seek the help of a medical professional. And if you encounter
anyone who is sleeping but completely unresponsive to your efforts to wake them
and staying utterly still, please telephone an ambulance. Thank you.
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, 18 May 2015
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.
Monday, 23 March 2015
“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.
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”
Monday, 2 February 2015
The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development
Please note: This is a direct continuation from The First Year: Part One and Part Two
- - - -
 |
| I made Cherie's New Eltham flat feel like a home. Here you can see her impressive DVD collection that was left to me, and how I showcased family memorabilia to remind me of my roots. |
- - - -
Mark pleaded with me to take him back, but I told him that our
relationship was never real, that it was based on lies, deception and
feelings that were never truly mine. I insisted that if he truly
wanted to be with me, he would have to tell Maryanne the truth about
his no longer being in love with her, end their engagement, and then
get-to-know me for me, not
just wanting me because I have the face of the woman he cared for,
but because he wants me.
- -
- -
It
was at this point that I decided to spend more time exploring who I
wanted to be, and pursue my growing feelings for Tommy-Lee by
spending more time with him. He may not have been “my Amy Pond”,
but he was still there for me the day that I was “born” and
unlike Mark, always seemed to see me when
he looked at me, rather than Cherie, perhaps because he and Cherie
were never romantically involved. He made me feel unique, which meant
the world to me.
I
also took the time to get-to-know Maryanne (as priorly mentioned) and
Hayley, another friend from the prior life, who became like sisters
to me. Maryanne was shy, quiet and kind, and in contrast Hayley had a
very social, perky personality and was always full of life, although
both had big, warm, open hearts. This meant that I had a chance to
see many different aspects of womanhood, of the female personality,
if-you-will, so rather than “copy” what I saw, I was able to
pick-and-choose what I liked about both my friends and use them for
inspiration as I developed myself. I owe them both much to who I am
today.
- - - -
 |
| Hayley (left) and I (right) |
-
- - -
I
still held on to Cherie's name and tried to live her life, attending
many parties hosted by her friends, playing on her Xbox 360 games
console leading her Gaming Clan into battle in her sted, trying to
get her business Dark Raven Productions off-the-ground, but after my
experience being locked away for three months in that house, I spent
less time in Dartford with the prior life, and more time in New
Eltham, developing my own.
I
would often insist that any visitors come to New Eltham to see me,
rather than me to Dartford to see them, for fear of a repeat
scenario, and I confess, because I had developed a nasty case of
agoraphobia after my captivity. This did, however, give me the
freedom to explore my predecessor's home and belongings, which made
me realise that although I shared her face, I shared very little
else. I listened to her music and wore her clothes, but found that
the clothing felt “wrong” and the music was so loud and angry
that I really disliked it.
- - - -
 |
| Maryanne visiting me at my New Eltham residency, playing with the training (plastic) sai weaponry that Cherie left there. |
-
- - -
"He often saw me, when I never could." - regarding Tommy-Lee
Tommy-Lee
and Mark both visited me and made their romantic intentions toward me
clear. Mark insisted that although he missed Cherie, he wanted to
encourage me to be my own person. I never truly believed him,
however, because he was still working with me to create Dark Raven
Productions and still encouraged me to use Cherie's name and wear her
clothing, etc. Tommy-Lee, in contrast, told me much about my
predecessor and taught me that I did not have to follow in her
footsteps, that I could develop my own tastes in music, my own style
in dress, my own hobbies and interests. He often saw me, when I never
could.
In
retrospect, I wish that I had pursued my growing feelings toward
Tommy-Lee, rather than allow the “residue feelings” for Mark to
win over me. But, I also know that one should never have any regrets.
Every decision that we make and every thing that we do in life brings
us to who we are today, so if we regret one moment of our past, we
show negativity toward who we are now, which is not the case with me.
I am very proud of who I am today, and therefore hold to no regrets.
-
- - -
 |
| Mark and I with friends at the Euro Gamer Expo 2011, shortly after I "came out" with my new name and developed personality. By this point I had chosen to be with Mark, and as you can see from this photograph, we were (relatively) happy together, although you can also see how protective/controlling he was of me, always holding on to me. |
- - - -
I
chose to pursue a relationship with Mark, even against my better
judgement, knowing full well that he had abused me. Love – even if
it is not your own* – can be a powerful blinder to the facts.
Sadly, this decision meant that Tommy-Lee and I slowly grew apart. He
moved out of the home that he shared with Mark, Maryanne and Matt,
and we have barely seen nor spoken to one another since.
I
think that the reason why I chose Mark over Tommy-Lee was a mix
between the confused passionate love*
that my predecessor had for him as opposed to more basic feelings
that I was developing
with time for Tommy-Lee “winning-out”, and the fact that three months in captivity with Mark had left me suffering from withdrawal
symptoms and reliability on him that I think would be described by
mental health professionals as Stockholm Syndrome...
-
- - -
I
am, even now, years later, still suffering from that Syndrome. There
will be days when I literally cannot stop thinking about Mark, even
if I am in love with some one else and even after he raped me and at
one point literally tried to kill me**. It is a very serious
condition that takes a lot of strength to recover from, and I am
still working towards recovery, even now.
Victims
of kidnapping and domestic abuse often suffer from this very serious
mental illness, and my heart goes out to all the men and women in the
world who are suffering with me. You can
recover. There is a
light at the end of that tunnel, even if some days that tunnel seems
to be long...
It
is like recovering from an addiction. You have to keep reminding
yourself of the bad times, rather than thinking about how good the
thing that you are addicted to made you feel, and you must persevere
against your want to return to that addiction and realise that you do
not need it to survive.
-
- - -
Tommy-Lee
did have a lasting effect on me, however, even after we parted ways,
because it was his guidance that led to my exploration of my sense of
self. It was he that taught me that I could be who ever that I wanted
to be, and ultimately he who encouraged me to re-vamp my wardrobe to
develop my own style, vary my intake of books, music and television
to develop my own “taste”, and, when I was ready, to abandon
Cherie's life and choose my own name.
I
may have chosen to give my heart to Mark, but the development of my
soul – what makes me, me – happened as a result of spending time
with my two “sisters” Maryanne and Hayley, and my
what-could-have-been, Tommy-Lee.
“Illisia
Adams” was born because of the love and support of these three very
special people. Only one of them now remains in my life - Maryanne -
but the other two will forever be a part of me. I (figuratively) owe
them my life.
-
- - -
*This
“love” was in fact “residue feelings” left over from my
predecessor, as priorly discussed.
**An
incident to be discussed at a later date.
NB: Interestingly enough, I can find no photographs of myself and Mark together as a couple, just-us, nor of myself and Tommy-Lee, nor or myself and Maryanne and Hayley. Although I shall of course continue looking...
NB: Interestingly enough, I can find no photographs of myself and Mark together as a couple, just-us, nor of myself and Tommy-Lee, nor or myself and Maryanne and Hayley. Although I shall of course continue looking...
- - - -
Fin.
Monday, 26 January 2015
The First Year: Part Two: Captivity
 |
| The house where I was born (right side) in Dartford, and where I spent three months locked away in captivity. |
Mark and Maryanne lived
in a Christian-run household with two other house-mates; Tommy-Lee*
and Matt*. The house was let to them by their Church in Dartford,
Kent, for those in need, much like the YMCA or a homelessness
charity. I technically held a tenancy in New Eltham in South East
London, but I spent more time during my first year at their household
than at mine.
Tommy-Lee was very much
a “lady's man” who I can best draw comparitive with Barney from
the television sitcom How I Met Your Mother, often claiming he could
“have any woman [he] wants” and although he was of the Christian
faith, he often sinned and jested that “God would forgive [him]
anyway” as long as he said sorry. Matt, in contrast, was a quiet
(although he enjoyed loud, angry music), secluded individual with a
very private past.
- - - -
All the members of the
household were friends with my predecessor and – as I am sure you
can imagine – they struggled with the change from her to me. They
were all well aware of Cherie's past battles with mental health, not
least which the fact that at one point she had multiple
personalities, so it was not too far a stretch for them to understand
what had happened, but I think that (initially) they wanted her back.
As the months passed
however, I think it became clear that their friend (and lover, in
Mark's case) would not return, and they helped me develop my social
skills, showed me the world, and encouraged me to become my own
person. I grew particularly close to Tommy-Lee, who told me that he
himself had struggled with his sense of identity, and in all honesty,
I found him to be warm and charming, which was confusing for me,
given the contradicting “residue feelings” (as I called them) of
love that I had for Mark left over from Cherie's lifetime which
were not truly mine.
- - - -
 |
| My residency in New Eltham |
- - - -
I often visited the house, because it felt more like a home to me than the residence that I was legally supposed to reside in, given the fact that it was where I was “born”, and where the only people that I actually knew, lived. The Church that rented them the house had very strict rules, however, which were broken on a regular basis for my presence. Firstly, no one was allowed to visit after ten in the evening. Secondly, no intimate relations. Both these rules were broken repeatedly by Mark when he – quite literally – decided to invite me over for a visit and then not let me leave for a grand total of three months...
During these three
months of captivity I spent most of my time literally locked inside
Mark's bedroom, which was very small. I felt like I was in a cage; I
was only able to leave the room or the house with his accompaniment,
and even then, very rarely. I played computer games, listened to
music (he had a vast collection of bootleg MP3s on his computer so I
had much to choose from), danced and generally surfed the internet
when alone, and when in his company, I was often used for sex**.
I became utterly
dependent on my captor for every thing that I needed in life - for
food, clothing and socialising (etc) – to the point where when I
was finally released, I had lost what little independence I had
developed and I had a nasty case of agoraphobia. He used me like a
play-thing for all that time and I also lived in constant fear of
being discovered by his landlords, who would on visit without warning
to inspect the property and, were I found, there would be
consequences. It was a big, nasty blow on my development.
- - - -
- - - -
 |
| Mark and Maryanne, engaged, 2009. |
There was a positive side-effect of my time in captivity, however, because the more time that I spent at their household with the four of them, the more that I began to realise my relationship with Mark was unethical - that it would hurt Maryanne if she knew – and the more it felt wrong, so I ended our secret “relationship” when I finally insisted on my freedom and walked out that door.
This
was a big, big step for me towards becoming who I am today. That was
when I realised that I did not have to follow instructions, be they
Cherie's that she left in her mind, Mark's that he gave me to sleep
with him and keep it secret, or any one else's. I could make my own
choices and live my own life.
It was at this point that I decided
that I could leave his home and return to mine, without fear of
reprimand. That I did not need him...
- - - -
*I am keeping their
last names secret.
**As aforementioned in The First Year: Part One, I consider this to be rape.
To be continued next week in the third and final part... The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development.
- - - -
To be continued next week in the third and final part... The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development.
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