My Memories

Trigger warning: CSA, Incest, Abuse

I’m new to this blog, and I’m new to this fronting thing. Hah, I’m Lolly. I’m trying to figure out myself but I’m remembering like everything right now. It’s awful! But I like fronting, it’s kind of great. I like fronting with my long time partner Ox (I call him Kuzu though hah). He doesn’t talk, but you can totally read his body language. 

Sorry I’ll stop swooning haha. 

I’m trying to avoid getting to this. It’s painful, but I’m numb to it mostly but kind of not. Hah. 

I remembered a really specific time I was raped by ‘father’. Two times kind of, but in the same place and they could have happened at the same time. I don’t think so…

I remember this as much as I remember the one we were going to have him arrested/going to court for. It’s intense! Woah.

It was brought on by mother talking about this time when father basically kidnaped us and drove us to Missouri to go to some stupid tourist attraction. The more I think about it the more I remember whoops ahah. 

We were camping, and there was a pool. We were swimming on the other side of the pool from him, probably avoiding him because he might have been grooming us. But he called us over and we swam over and sat in his lap. 

I figure you know what happens next right? 

The other one I remember is same place and in the hot tub/pool. There was a hose and he called me over and did stuff to me with it. 

Sick ficker. 

I didn’t want to go into the tent with him that night, probably because of that. On that same trip I peed in his car seats and he freaked out and hit me in a rest area. He was over protective of his car. 

Okay I’m done with this aaaaaah. 


Hating on myself

Trigger warning: abuse, self harm, and suicide mention.

The other night, in a moment of pure stupidity that is only caused by something I’ll get into later in this post, I decided to look up my abuser on Facebook. 
My mother had told me he had a new one, and I won’t lie I’m curious to see how far I can push myself with the ‘I don’t hate you, I just don’t care’ which in it’s own way is a lie. I try not to hate for my own personal reasons, but deep down, if I hate anyone it’s him and his wife. So I looked. 

As I scrolled I got more and more disgusted by what he posted, but it was a kind of emotionally detached disgusted. Like, it would be funny if I didn’t have the connection. 
Then I stumbled upon something that I know he knew I would see. A post on my birthday, that was basically him emotionally abusing me by working on the old connection we had. The old ‘I’m your father, I’ll always love you’ b.s. 
I didn’t believe if for a second, but it sure did make me mad. Not like a blinding rage mad, but just so dumbfounded with everything. I got very upset, ran outside and quickly grabbed two fistfuls of snow. 

The pure icy cold brought me back down to reality, enough so that I could walk inside, collect my phone, and walk to my room. I was fine, my heart was racing, and my hands were cold. My eyelashes were frozen with wet tears and I was shaking, but I was fine.

My mother came in a moment later, I was vaguely mad at her for coming outside then quickly abandoning me for the house- she later told me she wanted to see what he wrote. We sat on the floor, and I vented. 

I was amazed by the pure stupidity of it all. He actually thinks we still have some sort of connection. Some cosmic love that will reunite us when I finally see the evils of my mother. 

All I can think is about when we were 16, and we did go back to live with him. It was hellish. I got my first self harm scar that is still visible. I stayed there being sexually abused by his wife’s daughter because of some reason I can’t even think to know.  I lost everything. I didn’t go back to school when I finally came home. I became scared and withdrawn. I tried to commit suicide multiple times in the coming years.

My life turned to one giant nightmare for years, and is only now settling down again. Though, I will say my life wasn’t very good before this. From ages 12-14 when I didn’t see him were okay, but the rest was an abuse filled mess. 

And he actually thinks we still have a connection. He must think I didn’t read the police transcripts for the rape case I had against him. The one where he calls me a ‘crazy stupid lying c**t’. 

After I venting to my mom, something (aka a protector) told me to try what my therapist calls a ‘butterfly hug’, where you cross your arms against your chest and pat your shoulders one at a time. It’s an EMDR thing that surprisingly worked really well. 

I went back to feeling a little more worked up than normal, but I was otherwise okay. 

This whole incident got me thinking about why I do this. Why I look up my abusers, or at triggering things. Why I’m always testing myself to see how far I can go before I push myself over the edge. 

Joji, the protector that deals with Adam and I’s b.s thinks it has something to do with feeling emotions. Being emotionally numb to nearly everything is draining. When it moves into the body, that’s when we self harm. But when it’s just all too much, when there’s no ticking in our heart and we feel broken we push ourselves to feel anything. 

It’s kind of sick. It’s something I definitely need to talk over with my therapist. Why do I feel the need to push myself over the edge? I don’t know. 



Trigger warning: CSA 

My head has been in a dark place lately. All of the older alters, meaning Elijah, Adam, and myself have been dragged down by the weight of our trauma. Elijah and myself especially. It’s gotten to the point where even Elijah and I’s partner Renau has been feeling the blues. I don’t really know where to even start with this, though I suppose I was able to today with our therapist. I’m very happy to have her, she’s very helpful. 

Our mother and Elijah have always been on bad terms, Elijah feels that she was too selfish to realize that I was being sexually abused from a very young age- in her house, with her there. When we told her our of first initial remembering of being abused in that way (a time when we were 11 and she and my abuser has since left each other) she flipped. She’s selfishly making it all about her, and she always has. She tells me it’s too hard for her to look at me, she makes it seem like I’m going in and out of hospitals and being suicidal all the time. I’m not, I’m past that. I’m doing very well in my and every one around me’s opinion. 

We are starting to piece together memories that show signs of us being sexually abused from as young as 3. Even putting that into words makes me sick. My mother doesn’t know we are remembering these things, and since we started putting the pieces together we’ve also started remembering things. As a child, once my mom came back to our abuser (age 3) we would wet our clothes with out any meaning to- this ended at age 8 I believe. We wet the bed regularly until we were 16. She doesn’t know it lasted that long because we just ended up not telling her and doing our our laundry. We had fantasies of acts before even knowing what that was, and we watched porn from the second we found out about it. In front of people too. We would touch ourselves. 

I don’t understand how no one saw  what was going on. Why no one helped us. Not only from the sexual abuse, I was neglected terribly. I didn’t have a toilet or shower for most my childhood, I was constantly away from school. Always sick from living with a hoarder. I came in covered in fleas from the animals. 

Putting this into words is helping a bit. 

I just… I’m not even mad, I just feel abandoned by every one I know or have known. My alters are the only ones who have tried to save me. I love my new internet friends and the few people I met in the group home. I love my sister. Everyone else I have no emotion towards, I’m just so numb to this. 

A few times people tried to stop, but they couldn’t. No one would help them. I thank the nurse and teacher who came to my mom and asked if she needed help. They noticed something was wrong but couldn’t change it. 

I’m sorry for such a depressing post. 

Kenny & Elijah