Log in

No account? Create an account

look. photos.
Abbey made the coolest Necronomicon earings (yes, it's a full print-out of the text inside!) and my weeping angel tree topper. Not sure exactly where the photo of the two of us was taken, but it is circa 2004.

(no subject)
Oh, good lord. I haven't logged in for so long that there were reminders that it was Abbey's birthday. lol. I am alive. And well. And busy living life. One of these days I'll get around to posting Abbey's amazing creations. Got to see her oh-so-briefly and had a wonderful time, despite being exhausted, sick, and needing to get back to the working world early the next morning.

(no subject)
White Knight
livin and shit

Giving the devil his due.
This time of year is weird for me. Christmas and major life changes have intersected too many times in my life. And in my kids' lives. It was right around this time 4 years ago that I decided to leave my husband. It was right about this time 10 years ago that Tentmoot blew up. Those are just the major ones. Christmas and abuse should not go hand in hand. I want so desperately to reclaim the holidays. For the kids. Might be too late for me, but I am determined to make this a wonderful, magical time of year for them. I just don't know how. Oh, I have some ideas, sure. But on the budget of a single mom? It's not easy. What's worse? As we head into December, I find myself approaching a dark place. I'm hoping that maybe getting it out there will help me clear it. Get the weight off my shoulders. Earlier tonight I found myself contemplating the last time I saw my husband. It was the court house. We were supposed to meet with the judge to discuss the protection order and custody. I was accompanied by a social worker and a police officer. J was nowhere to be seen in the lobby as maybe 50 people awaited to be called in for their hearings. And then, in the corner, near the door to the courtroom I was to go in, there was a commotion. A man was having a heart attack. The ambulance was called; a couple of cops swarmed over. I looked. It was J. Of course. I looked back to the wall across the waiting area, disgusted, as I heard him loudly tell a cop that he was supposed to meet his wife in court that day and that he was so upset he was having a heart attack. A guy near me asked what was going on. I told him some guy was faking a hear attack. He looked at me funny. "I know this guy," I explained, blandly. "He's just trying to get me back. It's how he works. We're supposed to go in to family court to get custody arrangements and get a restraining order against him." Other people close by over heard. They looked at me like some heartless bitch. Maybe I am. I felt no sympathy for him. Distain? Disgust? Contempt? Yeah. I'd seen it before. 6 years previously. I'd fallen for it then. In a strange way, I'm thankful to Andy. My experiences with him put me in a much much better place if I was going to leave an abusive situation. That day, I recognized the manipulation. I don't think I would've without Andy's little suicide act that had me so worried and so worked up so long ago. The experience, and the lessons learned since, made me strong enough that day in court to allow the people around me to think I was some sort of monster in order to protect myself and my kids. The act was so....textbook, really. He was testing me, to see if I had any concern for him left. Trying to manipulate me into showing that I still cared. More importantly, trying to make me think that he really could not live without me and the kids. He was trying to get me back. It was in that moment that I knew I was never going back. I was free. I could not be ensared by his manipulation any more. So, Andy, in a weird way, thanks. 

How to stop being an abusive A**hole
This. So much THIS!!!

And a few of my own thoughts:

1. I started to recognize that my husband's behavior was abusive when it was all about how *I* needed to make changes. He was never wrong. Not saying I was perfect. I said and did things that were not altogether constructive or healthy, but it takes two. He flat-out refused to get counselling of his own, even if just to help him deal with me.

2. For a time, I went to a support group for abuse survivors. There, I was told only about 3% of abusers ever change. I did a quick search to find some data to back up that number. I didn't find one, but I'll be honest, I didn't spend a whole lot of time looking, either. The National Domestic Violence Hotline's website simply says "there's a very low percentage of abusers who truly do change their ways" - italics theirs!

3. The NDVH article actually quotes Bancroft (author of Why Does He Do That, the book discussed in the first link) as saying that one thing an abuser must do to change is to " Accept overcoming abusiveness is a decades-long processnot declaring themselves “cured” "

So, this happened
.Abbey and I talked this morning about my post. She sent me this:

What I think of when I remember you apologizing for that knife thing:


Totally made my day!

Owning up
Dr. Foster
I was reminded today that Andy said some things about me and I'd like to clear them up. I wish I could honestly say it's all lies. Some are flat-out lies, most are a twisting or misrepresentation - you know, truth a la Andy. You can read the full email here if you want. I do love that the only time I'm mentioned is when he needs another way to show that he's the real victim in all of this. I've copied and pasted to make reading my post easier. His words in italics:

It was about this time that we separated from Diamond, who had begun having fits of temper...
I don't think I'd really call it temper. That indicates throwing a fit because I didn't get my way. Did I have some really horrific episodes of some sort? Yeah. I did. Do I know what to call them? No, I don't. I'll be honest, there's a lot of haze surrounding the memories of that time. Emotions and stress levels were high, food and sleep levels were extremely low. I know we (Abbey and I) were doing an AA style forced therapy via the Others. The only break I got was the time spent at work. (and since Abbey worked with him, she got no break). We were bullied into talking about things we didn't want to talk about and fed false memories, making things from the past seem even worse than they already were. We had to write all kinds of apologies, owning up to every hurtful thing we'd said or done. I'm pretty sure this was after Elijah left and Orlando came in (Side note: we called him Andy, so the tumbler account of where he got his name is bullshit! )  I hated being told to "Talk about it!" (always commanded in a stern voice by Ed, or a sort of condescending "silly girl" tone by Raz). It was like a sin to hold back whatever I was thinking or feeling and those inner thoughts weren't always so pleasant. There's a reason I was trying to keep them to myself. You know, in that light, I guess I was throwing temper tantrums in response to not being allowed to keep my private shit private. So there you go, Andy was telling the truth (sort-of).
where she would bite and attack us and herself...
Completely true. I have mentioned biting before and said that it would come in to play more at a later date. Reader's Digest version: from an early age, I would bite myself as a form of self-soothing and it stemmed from a survival need not to be heard crying (no, seriously, my mom would just hit me more if she heard me cry). So yeah, I did that. Since leaving, I've learned that biting is a very common response to stress and is associated with both ocd and self harm. Most of the time I didn't want them to know I was biting and they would physically pull my arm away from my mouth - that's when I tried to bite them (honestly, though, I only remember biting Abbey, and only once). Kind of a "leave me alone and let me do what I want" kind of response. No, I'm not proud of what I did. But I'm putting it all out there. I recall one particular night I was told to stop or they'd call mental health. I seem to remember handing them the phone. I KNOW I remember one of them then saying that they couldn't call because I WANTED them to call. I'm pretty sure it was Andy, but I couldn't swear to it. Can you imagine what would happen if I DID go to a mental health specialist and told them what was going on? I wish I had. I would've been outta there so fast. And had help sorting through the aftermath. That might've been nice, instead of trying to pick up the pieces by myself. Now, I will admit that I once wielded a knife at Abbey. Not proud of that episode. I'm sorry I did it. And yes, we've made up for it. I think that was one of our early conversations. It was after I got kicked out of the hotel room by Abbey and Andy and spent the night on a park bench. I don't know WHY I did it; what I thought it would get me, or what I would've done. I seriously cannot imagine actually stabbing someone. Threatening someone with a knife is not something I'd ever done before. Or since.

...as well as stealing alcohol.

Heh. True. If you consider stealing to be purchasing those mini bottles from the liquor store with my own hard-earned money instead of giving ALL the money over to him on payday. We're not talking about a long-term habit or large quantities, either. Twice I bought those little bottles (2 at a time - they were like 2 for $5 or something like that). The second time, they were discovered in my purse. What Andy was doing going through my purse, I'll never know. Bit of a privacy violation there, don't you think? Sure, it probably wasn't in my best interest. I do know that my intent was to try to make life more bearable. It was a super shitty time. Pretty sure that was in the weeks leading to my ejection. I seem to remember him saying somewhere else that I was an alcoholic. Not while I was living with them. Alcohol was a very rare treat. After???? That's debatable. There was a period, while I was still living in Hollywood, that I was at the bar almost every night. I remember wondering if I was an alcoholic and decided that if I had to ask, I should definitely step away for a while. I did. And it's a complete non-issue. Do I like to drink now and then? Hell, yes. Is it a problem? Well, let's just say that I bought I fifth when I moved into my place back in March. It's still 2/3rds full and I've even had friends help me. I can tell you where the rum has NOT gone.

We have heard several stories about her going through quite the litany of roommates
Hm....how many is a litany? 'Cause after Abbey & Andy I had creepy Bugs Bunny (who still asks Abbey about me!) and although I'm grateful to him for letting me stay, let's just say that I jumped at the chance to move out....to the Valley! Which was a good thing, over all. It got me away from Bugs and out of Hollywood, so I didn't have to see them every time I walked down the sidewalk. So that would be 2 roomies now....then my now ex-husband. Yes, quite the litany. Oh, wait...I forgot there was Raye's fiance, so that's actually 3. Plus my 2 kids. Hmmm.....there was another girl living with Bugs too, for a little while, so I guess that puts it up to 7. In 10 years. Counting my kids and husband. Yes, I'd say that's "quite the litany".

with several different horror stories of lies
????? No idea what he's referring to here. Unless he's now assumed me as an alter???????

and dozens of identities on her part
Where to start???? Let's start with the obvious and smirk at the idea of a guy with 80+ "identities" taking issue with someone else having other identities. Now let's move on to the truth. I have gone by 5 names in 10 years. 1) The name given to me at birth 2) My fandom name, Diamond, which everyone knew was just a nickname. I've yet to hear of anyone thinking Diamond Took was my actual name and I never presented it as such. 3) Katherine Shaw. I was going to change my name to this, and yes, I was highly encouraged by Andy to do so. However, any time a legal name was required, I continued to use my birth name. I never even got as far as having an ID with that name on it, and my roomies knew my legal name. I simply explained that I hate my birth name, found one I liked better, and just didn't have the funds yet to get the change. (I also didn't like the idea of someone googling my name and coming up with Turi's journal) One of my roommates was even going to help me with the process, since she had done a name change herself. Which leads me to 4) Lucky. This was used very sparsely and was really just a nickname, not even an identity. 5) My married name, which shall not be revealed here because a. I like my privacy, tyvm and b. Have I mentioned I have an abusive ex who threatened to kill the kids and I? Yeah, our safety trumps your curiousity. So yes....5 = dozens in woobieworld.

but I don’t trust gossip

"because I'm just twisting the truth and making shit up, spreading it, and expecting you to believe it"

and it’s not my business anyway.

"and yet, I'm making it my business, and yours, just by bringing it up, when the only thing it has to do with anything is to show what horrible horrible people I was with so you'll feel sorry for me!"

I haven’t seen her in over 3 years, and I hope that she is well and has gotten the help she so clearly needed

"I hope she forgave me for all this shitty things I put her through? I hope she realizes what a dumbass she was? I hope she doesn't expose me some more?" As for the help I so clearly needed....yes, yes I did need help, even before Andy came along. But that's what he saw in me - someone who desperately needed help in so many areas - perfect victim material. And after? Oh, yeah....I needed more help after all he helped me with. How many times did he have to talk me away from my suicidal tendencies? How many times did he try to convince me that I was too skinny and I should eat something? How many times did he yank my wrist away from my mouth? And yet.....how many times did he suggest that I might need outside help? Did it ever occur to him that he was making things worse? I wasn't anorexic until him. I wasn't so desperate that I'd bit myself with anyone in the same room until him. I didn't talk to anyone else about killing myself until him. So glad that, as such a good, caring friend he suggested getting the help that I so CLEARLY needed.

(no subject)
That boy is a monster

That boy is a monster
For the curious: I do NOT revoke consent. There was never consent given. That is the very definition of sexual assault. Taken from merriam-webster.com:

illegal sexual contact that usually involves force upon a person without consent or is inflicted upon a person who is incapable of giving consent (as because of age or physical or mental incapacity) or who places the assailant (as a family friend) in a position of trust or authority

A song. Lyrics included.
That boy is a monster
So, this came up on pandora about a week and a half ago. I had no idea my last secret of that time period had been exposed. But of course, my mind went there: