The Corona Borealis.

I am a coward. What stops me from speaking out? When I was 17 my friend was groomed by her English teacher.  When she phoned me from the English teacher's house, she had found his photos, lots of photos in a draw. He liked to shave his most precious students, and keep the pictures. My friend had refused. He had left the house, perhaps to buy shaving foam and more razors! I drove to his house and took her out of there. After she finished her A levels, she went to university, and they lived together... until she ran away from him! And life is complicated...nice if things were black/ white, good/bad. But the point is, I knew about that draw full of photos. And I've no doubt he continued grooming, in the most literal sense. The point is, I didn't go to the police. I didn't go because my friend didn't want me to. And I didn't want to open the door to places she wouldn't want to go. The police station, the court. It would affect her education. Her life was hard en...

It has been three years since I recorded the mp3 to tell him about how I feel about him. And three years awareness of how my requests for open and honest dialogue were ignored.  I'm still thinking about some of his inappropriate responses to the emotions I felt when I spoke with him; such as how he laughed as I spoke about being paralysed by horror and fear. [+]   If you are reading this blog, you know that he refused any kind of resolution or mediation process. So I chose to publish my therapy sessions, using transcripts.  This hasn't been an easy decision to make.  A part of me remains uneasy about it.  The alternative? I seriously considered making an official and formal complaint. Now, in October 2024 we are about eight months away from it being too late for that as there is a three year window.  Actually I'm not sure, I may have more time?  And yet the reasons why I don't see complaint as the right thing, remain exactly the same no matter how I th...

Note - the therapist I mention in this post isn't Kit! "Synchronicities take you to the edge, but no further;  the message is received but the source hidden.  Beyond the uncanny crackle of the signal you have to make a leap"  Erik Davis. 3 am.  I feel as if I'm covered in static electricity, St Elmo's fire.  I am unsure of myself.  The feeling is of darkness.  And of being swept away.  Of walking a labyrinth, a spinning void. To a place beyond the stars. What happened? Hours earlier, as the lights came up and everyone started to leave, we stood for about ten minutes trying to exchange phone numbers - my phone refusing to do RCS - I was trying to write his number into Google Keep.  Neither of us were thinking straight.  We had just seen Tool. Hours later - 3 am, 31st of May 2024 - my feelings were making even less sense. Sure, a lot had already happened but.. But at 3 am I couldn’t even tell if I was feeling my own feelings. I am used to ...

 Autumn Equinox 2024. [+] This blog begins on Glastonbury Tor.  High up - you can see for miles! It is understood as a magical place, the meeting point of many energy lines and forces. Many people come to stand there together.  No one single belief system rules, it is free and open to all.  Welcome! When I wrote the first post of this blog  [+]   I was in recovery from the therapy I'd received. Let me say that again, after therapy ended - I was in a bad way - because of therapy.  I felt powerless, and silenced.  Again. During the gaslighting [+]  that ended just two months before I started therapy, I had needed to ignore all and any thoughts or feelings that contradicted my husband's version of reality. If I allowed myself to take my thoughts and feelings seriously, I would try to find out the truth. And when I did that....let's just say it really wasn't worth it. My husband had been lying to me - is the short version - and I've no ...

He - "So, what's for today then"? Me - "Oh, offering the scarf!" A rush of pain washes over me as I begin to write. This is  t he last session.   Then and now, I was really aware that I wanted to leave having done it right.   My integrity is rooted in one statement:  love is worth dying for. Perhaps it is the only thing... I had chosen not to run.  I had trusted that Kit would stop treating self-disclosure as dangerous. He didn't.  Instead he lectured me about avoidance, whilst he avoided making any reply to my questions. He ignored the power-dynamic he had created, and failed to understand that it would be maintained by his  absence. I left his room feeling worthless...disempowered, suicidal.  I'd set my coordinates straight for the heart of the storm; my role is to work with the people who get medicated unless we find a way to turn self-attack and justified rage, fear, hallucinations and paranoia into a na...

He - "So, do we have part 4?" Me -  "We do!" Part 4. Above clouds, between the void of space, above the pull of earth. I am drowsy between reality and anxiety.  At times like this when I have sought the glittering edge, I’ve longed for a simple way in; the perfect drug, the perfect word, the instant translocation .... Again, I've not posted the rest here.   He - "When you are writing this, is it a stream of consciousness or.." Me - "It's a putting together of the things I think" He - "And does anything change at the end of this, do you go through the process of writing it then some new connection is made, or the satisfaction of clarity, or or what"? Me - "I enjoy writing it. Um, what's the question - what changes because I write"? He - "Or does anything change"?   Me -  "Does anything change because I write. Everything changes, but does anything change because I write. This is like you are ta...