DISCLAIMER

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

Sunday, 3 September 2017

What Defines Me? (The Consequences Of A Rash Choice: Part Two)

I have been struggling for weeks now, to find my words. I am not sure I have even found them yet. But, I promised a friend that I would try, so here I am, typing away and just hoping that my heart can speak through my typing fingers.

I am struggling, because I made a choice that I think the best way to describe would be that I am regretting. I am unaccustomed to feeling regret. One of the things that makes me, me, is the fact that I have a strict "No regrets. Ever.” policy. What do you do? How do you move on when something in your life has changed the very foundations of your identity?

Wednesday, 24 May 2017

How Neil Gaiman Saved My Life

“My name is Illisia Adams, and I am four years old.”* are the words that originally formed the beginning of this Post. However, I am now almost seven. Two years have past, and here I am, still trying to compose the words from my heart and my head into something readable for you all.

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.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

The Comic Convention: Before

This is an unplanned, last-minute post, but it is super-important that it be written – and published – within a few days of this week end. Because, this week end, Thanet is having it’s first-ever comic book convention, and I am within two minds as to whether to attend. One thing is for certain, however, and that is that I am panicking


[Please note that due to my current emotional state of worry/fear and the last-minute nature of the post, my “written voice” (the style in which I write) may vary from my usual.]

- - - - 


The comic book convention is organised by a friend of my housemate, best friend and landlord Kirsty [Swan], whom I have mentioned many times prior to now on this Blog. I may or may not (I forget) have mentioned that Kirsty is very involved in the UK comic book “scene”/industry as a colourist, and sometimes artist.

Kaoticon” as it is titled is hosted by the owners of Phoenix Fantasy Comics in Cliftonville, Margate, and will be held on Saturday and Sunday. This in itself should not be a thing of panic. After-all, I have attended several conventions before and actually have a preference for the smaller, more “indie” kinds. However, the conventions that I normally attend do not usually have special Guests doing signings who matter-of-factually knew my predecessor, and one of which actually actively – even after all these years – hates or fears (I am not sure which) her.

- - - - 

In my last post, I mentioned my disappointment that this person – one Ian Sharman – had blocked me on social media. I have heard many a positive thing about him from our mutual friends, and those that know me - or perhaps those that do not, but whom frequent this Blog - should know that I am rather incapable of holding “grudges”, feeling negative about people, and least of all, judging someone whom I have never met, for reasons unknown to me (aka any “residue feelings” I might get when thinking about someone the past-me knew).

I understand and respect that he and Cherie [Donovan, my “twin”], were partners in business and in romance, and that they parted on very, very bad terms, but to this day I am unsure as to why, and honestly… I do not particularly care. I am curious, though, of course, because I am only human and this does affect my life, given Ian’s social media response to me.

- - - - 

In my curiosity, and with the impending comic book convention, I have done much research with regards to the negativity held between these two lovers (Ian and Cherie) post-breakup. I have read emails, I have spoken with friends and family, and I can find nothing of any particular use. I can see the emails between them slowly growing more and more hostile and then abruptly ending all-together, but all this gave me was more questions…

Eventually, I did not find the answers that I sought anywhere that I expected. Nor am I sure that I even found them… It is a little presumptuous of me to presume that what I found is the reason for what happened post-breakup, but I am nonetheless feeling duty-bound to “set the records straight” and hope that it will ease tensions between myself and Ian, who I am concerned holds a dislike for me due to actions that were not my own.

- - - - 

A photograph of Ian and Cherie when they were happy, taken by my
(and their) friend Simon Bailey, who recently discovered this long-lost
image from one of the conventions they had attended together.
What I found, I discovered inside of my mind. I am unsure, but I think it was from a dream, or it might have been that something in my everyday life “triggered” the memories as is sometimes the case, but what I do know is that I made certain that the information not be lost, and that it be discussed herein. This was many weeks ago, but time has passed and now with the convention fast approaching, I feel a need to share, rather than wait on my schedule*.

I distinctly remember a heart-broken Cherie describing the breakup between them as “he kicked me out at three o'clock in the morning!” to just-about-everyone who she could. Now, straight away I can say that if this were true, it would be a horrible thing, but that I would never be telling all of the people I know about it. Such things are best kept private, and one cannot recover from a negative experience without forgiveness.

Saying bad things – true or no – about a person who has wronged you will not give you closure… and, to be honest, I am not sure that in Cherie’s case it ever did, given the fact that when she saw Ian “in-the-flesh” at London MCM convention back in 2010 (paired with other stressful things), her reaction was to feel a sudden desire kill herself… 

- - - - 

That is my stance, were what she said true. However, my prior memories of the closure of their relationship indicate that how she described it was a very large exaggeration. In fact, I am uncertain, but I have a blurred recollection of Ian offering that she stay residing with him until she was able to move back with her parents or find her own place, which is a “far cry” from “he kicked me out”.

It was indeed 3am and there was an argument that ended their romantic (not professional) relationship, but it was her decision to leave the property. She called her parents in tears and insisted they take her in.

My memories are few, far-between, and honestly somewhat unreliable, but that is what I can tell you that I remember. Furthermore to this, if Cherie had been telling people what I think she was, that would have put Ian’s personal and professional integrity into question with whom she had told, so I am not surprised by his last email to her in which he states very clearly “the fact that you think I would want to talk to you after some of the things you have said and done shocks me.”

If this is indeed the reason why Ian became so angry with Cherie and why he now has a dislike of me and the idea of ever interacting with me, I must apologise on Cherie’s behalf for her actions. She was young, heartbroken and inexperienced in love. Love makes us do utterly stupid things; especially when we are young. It does not excuse her actions, but it does explain them. She is long-gone now, and I think it best that forgiveness be given to her memory…

- - - - 

Writing this post is literally making me feel sick with worry, and I shall be speaking with my therapist today (Wednesday) about this potentially life-changing decision as to whether or not to attend this event…

I just hope in my heart-of-hearts that if any of Cherie’s colleagues, friends or “fans” that attend this weekend – and in particular, Ian - see me have read this that they see me for me and not for her, should I choose to attend. I do not want things to be awkward or difficult. I just want to be able to report on and photograph the event, without feeling uncomfortable or scared, or making any one else feel that way, either.

Please remember that if you are one of Cherie's friends, colleagues or "fans" and have any questions or just want to talk, you can contact me at any time and I will do my best to help you.

- - - - 

Perhaps I shall make friends. Perhaps answers to long-asked questions will be learned. My journalistic and photographic career could benefit from this event, but my emotional and mental state may worsen. I know not what this week end will hold for me, but I intend to write a “The Comic Convention: After” post, whatever the case may be…

For those of you that are local and have a “geeky” lifestyle, I recommend attending. Say hello to Kirsty! Get a signed comic book from Ian! Go in cosplay! Buy things! I am hoping this event will be fun for all and a good thing for Thanet as-a-whole…

</end>**

- - - -

* Yes, my Posts for my Blog have a schedule.
** This is a nerdy HTML coding reference.

Sunday, 14 August 2016

Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited (Part Two) aka Lies and “Chinese Whispers”

This week I want to talk about how lies, deception and second-hand quotes (“he said”, “she said”) can tear apart relationships, and even ruin lives… It is also time that I continued on from my “Part One” of the post where I mentioned that Mark [Sutton] and I are good friends again now, and “set-the-record-straight” about what happened between us, how and why, and of course how things have become so good between us again now… 

- - - -

Regular readers might find that my mentions of Mark can be somewhat contradicting. Sometimes I discuss his abuse of me, and other times I have nothing but fondness for him. There is actually very good reason for this, and that is the very topic that we are discussing today: lies and Chinese whispers…
“I faced my fears of Mark and Kirsty and I realised that they were unfounded. Kirsty had no ill-will toward me what-so-ever, contrary to what many of our then-“friends” would have me and her (and Mark) believe. Therein we can now see the power of “he-said-she-said” gossiping, and have since decided to disregard third party opinions.” –  from Part One.
Cherie and Mark [Sutton] (far left) with friends and colleagues - including Kirsty [Swan] eating a meal together a few weeks before her passing. This is one of the last photographs ever taken of my predecessor and the first and only time she met Kirsty. Photograph credit and date are unknown.
- - - -

In fact, I have in one particularly powerful post many months ago stated my belief that Mark “raped” me, but also that there was no mal-intent involved. From his perspective, he was having intercourse with his girlfriend (Cherie), not with a baby personality who had no concept of sex and therefore no ability to consent…
“When I look back on those early days and the experiences I had with him, I feel violated. My trust was violated, as was my body.But then, I do wonder if from Mark's perspective things were very different. He had, after all, been sleeping with my predecessor for months before I took her body as my own.” – from my post The First Year: Part One
Now that we are on good terms - and with him having read much of my Blog - Mark and I have had a chance to talk about what happened. He has apologised a great deal, we hugged, I cried, we even laugh about It sometimes, and I realise that although I technically gave no consent, it was not an unpleasant experience. He did not hold me down, he did not injure me; he simply did not take the time to explain what was happening and why, and to ask if I wanted to partake. Now, this is still very much a grey-area, but I cannot emphasise enough that his intent is what holds truest.

- - - -

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-fiancé 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.


Sunday, 3 July 2016

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

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

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

- - - -

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

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

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

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

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

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

- - - -

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

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

- - - -

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

- - - -

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

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

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

NO REGRETS.

Long time, no see”, as-they-say... and I genuinely have my reasons...

Today I noticed a theme in my life that gave me a sudden desire to Blog. I have not felt the urge to contribute to my Blog for some time. Life has, well, happened. I know that I want to be prioritising my contributions to this life story, but want and need are two very different things. What I have needed to do is live my life, and I have had little time to sit down and tell you my story. Today, however, I got a mental and emotional slap around the face, and I need to tell you why.

- - - - 

Robert-James, Poppy (dog) and Scratch (cat).
- - - -

Drum roll, please... The theme is “No Regrets”. Okay, so you get no points if you guessed that correctly because the key is in the title of the post, but this gives it no less meaning.

No regrets” has been a big part of my life for a long time. I think it might have been the first “Illi-ism” that I invented. My Illi-isms are the rules by which I live my life. They are my guiding light in the dark; my rose in the thorns; my personal moral compass. When I wake every day, I am proud of who I am and confident that I am having a positive impact on the people I care about, and even for strangers who I pass by, and a big part of this is my Illi-isms.

- - - - 

I know that for a lot of people, having no regrets seems like a difficult – if not impossible – task. After all, is it not in human nature to regret? I would argue against this**. My stance on the matter is this:
Illi-ism #1: No regrets. Ever.
If you regret any life experience, you are doubting who you are today because they are our building blocks.” - a quote from my Illi-isms.

This means that a bad relationship may indirectly lead to a good one and to lifelong happiness, bad school grades might help you become a professional singer, or being homeless and hungry for a week could have made you into a more humble and grateful person.

The extreme for this is that I have been through so much in my lifetime that no one should ever have to go through – physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually assaulted, robbed, burgled, lied to – but I remain vigilant and positive, through all of it. I am not happy about what I have been through. It makes me sad. But I am also very proud of how strong it has made me, of the choices I have made since those events and of the moral person I continue to be.
When we were happy, before everything
went wrong. 28th July 2014.

- - - - 


Precisely two years ago today, I met a man - Matt [Osborne] - who would several months later sexually assault me inside my own home, on my own bed, while I tried to sleep. He was a close friend, a romantic interest (we kissed a few times) and most importantly of all, my legal (fully qualified!) Carer. I truly trusted him, and it cost me dearly. His reason? He claimed he did not know what he was doing and that he was asleep while doing it. Whether this is true or not, I do not know.

Although the experience weakened me at the time and for many months after (PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), it also made me stronger. Without that experience, I might not be as independent as I am today. I lost my ability to entrust my physical and mental wellbeing to another, so I had to learn to fend for myself (again).

I found the strength within me to report the crime, with the help of my friend Jon [Thurtell]. Although the police referred to it as a “mild” sexual assault due to the fact that he “only” touched my breast without my consent and on another occasion indecently exposed himself to me, I stood my ground that it was wrong and he deserved to be made accountable. I sadly lost my case due to a “his word against yours” situation - even though I had an email confession from him – but I am still to this day amazed that I even tried.

The final FaceBook Chat between Matt - aka "Lupus Solitaras" and myself.
- - - - 

Fast-forward two years, and I find myself looking at the “On This Day...” FaceBook feature, noticing the “Anniversary” of our meeting... and not particularly caring...

I had a brief moment of upset and recollection, but it faded very quickly and was replaced by an odd feeling of “Has it really only been that short a time?”. Nor did I shed a single tear. These facts mean that I am recovered.


My road to recovery... The first photograph is of the "evidence" returned to me from the police investigation: my bed sheets and my night clothes that I was wearing at the time that Matt told me were a "cock tease" and the reason for his actions. The second is the day that I was able to finally open the bag... and the third is present-day me, when I am now able to actually wear the nightclothes that I wore that night, without hurt.
- - - - 

Another thing that I ought to regret – yet I do not – is my now failed engagement. Robert-James [Brazier] and I recently (a few weeks ago) decided that our relationship was not working, and that we must stop trying to force it. It was a difficult and sad decision, but also a relieving one. We still feel something for one another, but sometimes love is not enough, and you must move on. We remain friends, all-be-it somewhat awkward ones.(..)

August 10th 2015: "We met a gentleman at Ramsgate Train
Station with a bag full of puppies, accompanied
by their mother and father. So sweet!"
Furthermore, I need to state that this means that my ex-boyfriend, ex-boss, ex-friend Matthew B was correct in his judgement of our (Robert-James and my) coupling being a poor match and his reasoning behind this opinion also proved to be true. I shan't go into detail, but one thing is clear here, and that is in the ending of the “RJ-IA” romance, I have suffered two very heavy losses, but neither of which I can regret.

I lost my fiance, and I lost my friendship (and potentially rekindled romance) with my ex, Matthew B***. He made it clear that he did not want to continue being a part of my life because I chose Robert-James and he knew it was doomed to fail and that I would be hurt. If he ever reads this, he can quietly and smugly utter “I told you so” and know that it is well-founded.
"Enjoy your life with this replacement Mark. I do not want to have to stand by and watch you destroy everything you fought so hard for." - Matthew B's last words to me, via FaceBook Message.

However, without my failed relationship with Robert-James and the loss of my friendship with Matthew B, I would not have my wonderful dog Poppy, nor would I have met the lady who I consider to be my closest friend in the world, Kirsty [Swan], and rekindled my lost friendship with her long-term partner Mark [Sutton], aka “my Amy Pond”.

- - - - 

No regrets. Not ever. Everything that happened in the past forms who we are in the present. I love who I am today**** and I would not want it changed.

I hope that each of you can read this and take some of that positive attitude and put it into your own lives. Be proud of who you are!

PS. Containing the theme, I am returning to my Being Erica marathon. It is a television program about time travelling to change your regrets, full of heart and humour.

- - - -

*Eviction notice, for one!
**Except I would not, because not arguing is another Illi-ism.
***Just over a year ago, right after E3 2015...
****(although I do have plenty of faults, I feel they are far outweighed by things I am proud of)

Monday, 4 January 2016

Un-Sticking The Love Addiction Rut

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

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

- - - - 

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

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

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

- - - - 

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

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

- - - - 

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

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

- - - -

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

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

- - - - 

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

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

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

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

- - - - 

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

Thursday, 25 June 2015

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.

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.