anything and everything

I always wanted to be able to share my story, all that time on the run from the diocese and while I was writing ‘homeless’ I always wanted to really tell my story, but even now, trauma makes it hard to tell.

I have just found out the meaning of life.
Amazon vouchers.
I like amazon vouchers. They are the solution.

From ‘Homeless’ written on 13.01/2012 Thanks SNAP please note, the original parts that I put in bold no longer show up in bold but it is all very relevant to me

SNAP (Survivors Network of People Abused by Priests) have been in touch with me today, they reminded me of a part of their website that I am going to quote and link to. The page is called ‘Survivor’s wisdom, and I hope that SNAP don’t mind that I have put in bold some of the sentences that really resound with my case. Also keep in mind that this treatment by the church is not limited to the Catholic church at all.
http://www.snapnetwork.org/survivors_wisdom

Here are paragraphs that resounded with me:
SNAP:

1. Don’t go to the Church. Many survivors have gone to church officials to look for help, guidance and/or healing. Many of us went to the church leaders after building up loads of courage and strength to face them because we wanted to make sure that our perpetrators didn’t abuse anyone else. We mistakenly thought that the church leaders would want to ensure others’ safety too and that the perpetrators would be removed from ministry. So many of us did this without ever telling anyone else. Then we found out we were wrong. The church leaders did not care about protecting others, and they did not care about us. Most of us found the experience of going to church leaders just awful. The church leaders were insensitive and acted like they did not know how to respond to us. We were looking for healing and consolation but found further victimization. Most of us left feeling devastated, and the entire experience of talking to church leaders left us hurting more than ever. Here are some of the responses received by church leaders across the country:
2. Sometimes they acted kind and then ignored the promises they made to “investigate” our allegations.
3. Usually they said that we were the first person to ever come forward to allege that Father So-and-so is a sexual molester. Many of us found out later that we weren’t the first to come forward and that church leaders had known about our perpetrators for years.
4. Others had the Chancellor, Provincial or even Bishop tell us that they are sure that Father So-and-so would never do such a thing. We must have misunderstood or misinterpreted Father’s affection.
5. Sometimes it was suggested by church leaders that we were bad for even saying such a thing. A few of us were offered the opportunity to go to confession.
6. More recently, the Church leaders offer to pay for counseling for us. But sometimes this comes with strings attached. Some survivors were told they had to attend counseling at Catholic Charities. We strongly recommend that you think twice before agreeing to this arrangement; in at least one case a court of law determined that the Catholic Charities counselor had to turn over records about the counseling to the church attorneys. There was no confidentiality.
7. Sometimes survivors have learned later that their first encounter with a church leader was recorded without their knowledge or permission.
8. Frequently, church leaders wanted us to tell all the “details” and in some cases became angry at us for telling those details. The experience left survivors feeling both invaded and blamed for the abuse while they were only telling what happened and what they had been asked to tell.
9. Here are some reasons why you could be hurt by going to church leaders:
   • When first beginning to deal with the abuse, we might not have all the facts straight regarding places, dates, times, etc. Frequently our memories become refreshed with lots of details only as we engage in the healing process, taking days, months, even years to uncover fully. If we’ve disclosed some details one day and recall more later, we will be discredited for being inconsistent about the details.
   • Growing up Catholic has taught us to trust our priests and bishops implicitly so we approach the church leaders with full trust and disclosure. We look up to them, and they are in positions of authority and power over us. They, on the other hand, do not trust survivors. They may even view you as “the enemy.” While we think they are trying to help us, they are in fact building a case against us without our knowledge. Things said during initial meetings with church leaders can easily be twisted to be used against you and have been used against a number of survivors.
   • Other survivors have gone to the Church leaders and have been hurt by doing so. Some of us were strung along for months while the church leaders waited for our statute of limitations to run on any legal action we had while we didn’t even know we had a right to any legal claim.
   • Most survivors do not want to receive money from the church as compensation for what was done to us. Most of us merely want to ensure that our perpetrators are removed from being able to abuse others in their position as trusted priests. We’d like some apology for what we’ve endured. Sometimes we want an apology or acknowledgment given to our parents. Sometimes we want the church to pay for our counseling or other expenses we may have. None of us wants to sue the church for millions of dollars. But one thing we have learned over the years is that when we do file law suits the church becomes accountable. Unfortunately, without any legal obligation to promises made by the church to you, there is little chance that you will actually get what you bargain for. The church is not bound to do anything for you unless there is a legal contract or court order mandating that it happen. I’d like to tell you that you can trust what the church leaders tell you, but so many survivors have received nothing but empty promises after being assured that certain things would occur (or not occur). So I feel obligated to warn you that it is probably best not to trust any one in a church position. I must go further to say that this remains true, even when you personally know the church leader. Many survivors have found themselves being employed by the church as Catholic school employees, DRE’s, parish workers, campus ministers, youth minister’s, etc. These church employees have not been treated any better than everyone else. In fact, the mistreatment by the church leaders has hurt some of these folks even more because they were friends of the church leaders. The betrayal is extremely painful. For many survivors, this is much worse than the pain from our actual abuse. We can understand that there is a “bad apple” in the bunch of priests of each Diocese but what we fail to understand is why the Church leaders leave these individuals in ministry when they know they have abused others. We also fail to understand why the church leaders are so inconsiderate to survivors.

SNAP:

1. Don’t go alone! If you still decide to go to church leaders, don’t go alone. Taking someone with you provides a witness to the event and gives you someone to “debrief” with when its over. Write down what is said. Don’t believe what you hear just because they said it. Check it out with other sources before relying on what they tell you. Have a prepared time limit on how long you will meet with them and stick to it. Prepare ahead of time what you will and won’t tell and stick to your prepared plan. Protect yourself. Take time after any meeting with church leaders to “debrief” and go over what occurred. Keep track of all info you give them and exact details of what you tell. They are keeping track, so you should too.
2. Seek alternative Help! As an alternative to going to church leaders, we recommend that you go to a trusted family member or friend, or seek professional help from a counselor. Many others have gone through a process of healing from sexual abuse. We do not have to reinvent the wheel. We may as well learn from others, and for many SNAP members a professional counselor is very helpful.
3. Learn your legal rights. The church leaders have lots more information about our abuse than we do. They know our legal rights, but most of us don’t know. We can choose to exercise our legal rights or not, but it is empowering to make the choice. Without knowing, we don’t make the choice.
   Many SNAP members ignored learning about our legal rights because we assumed we didn’t need to learn them because the church leaders would do the right thing. By the time we figured out that the church leaders were not going to do the right thing it was too late for many of us to exercise our legal rights. We have noticed that frequently the church leaders string victims along until the statute of limitations has run, or in layman’s terms, the opportunity we had to file a claim was over. By the time many of us realized, it was too late to do anything. That experience was so painful to many survivors because it was another moment of helplessness and powerlessness at the hands of our perpetrator or his supervisors.

My own words: The church, by their actions against me, have prevented me from being able to take any action against them, they don’t and never have cared about me but have kept up a pretence of concern whilst hugely and irreparably damaging me, and with my disability and in my state of mind I have been powerless and a drowned out voice.

SNAP:

1. Healthy Survivors: Many survivors have developed addictions or health problems. The pain and betrayal we felt while being abused was intense. We had no knowledge of how to cope with the experience of being abused as well as the feelings that came as a result of the abuse. All of us found a way to survive or we would not be here today. The problem is that many of the coping mechanisms we used to survive the abuse are not healthy. Here are some of the types of problems we have: Alcoholism; drug addiction; over-eating, under-eating or other eating disorders; co-dependency, finger-nail biting; promiscuity; detachment from intimacy; sleep disorders; religious fanaticism; stomach or intestinal problems; or an overall attitude of anger.
   If any of the above are a problem for you, SNAP recommends that you seek help. Now we are not being abused, so we don’t need to rely on the unhealthy coping mechanisms we used in the past. Help for these types of problems will liberate and allow us to face the real issues of our abuse. In SNAP meetings, we do not address addiction issues and recommend that survivors seek help for these from other sources.

I am full of anger and distress and I have eating problems, but at last I am free from the cruelty of the diocese and free to seek help.

SNAP:
We are the victims (survivors)! The abuse was not our fault, no matter what we did or didn’t do to stop it or prevent it. No matter whether it felt good or bad. No matter whether he bought us gifts, took us out to eat, or to fun places. No matter if we enjoyed his company. No matter if someone else had warned us to stay away from him. No matter what, the responsibility for a priest molesting us rests squarely on the priest. He was in a position of authority. We looked up to the priest. We trusted the priest, and we believed what he told us. We thought he was close to God and we might get close to God if we stuck close to him. He should not have touched us. He abused his position of authority. He used his position of being a priest to victimize us. He had no right to do this. He is a criminal, and what he did was a criminal act. We are victims of his crime. He and his bosses who trained him and supervised him were wrong. His bosses, the Bishops, Pastors, and teachers at his Seminary made a mistake in putting him into his position of priest. They did not do their job properly. If they had, he would not have become a priest and been in that position to hurt us. The church leaders and the priests are guilty. We are victims. We are innocent. We have been wronged. We deserve to have the wrong made right. That will mean different things to each of us, but we all deserve to be made whole, as much as that is possible.

From ‘Homeless’ written on 25/01/2012 I was mistaken about being free from them, and in a way I knew it, because I know Jane Fisher

Psychology: The Bishop and diocese were involved in my life still, albeit against my wishes, so my emails to them were about the pain they were causing me, and about my life and anguish, after all they had taken my friends and I had to tell someone. 
(note, this is about Jane Fisher and the Bishop hounding me in Winchester in 2010/11 and having me brutalized and locked up for my response, I couldn’t really have responded any other way in the terrible circumstances).

I can’t bear to go to evensong, what they are singing about in there is totally at odds with what the church is. And yet so many of those elderly people have no idea at all that that is the case and the shock could kill them.

There are lots of groups and sites and people on facebook and Youtube offering support and solidarity to anyone who has suffered abuse in the church.

I am relieved to realise that in a lot of ways I am now free from the diocese, though the damage remains forever.

Missing Hampshire and my old community that I was alienated from by the Diocese of Winchester, I wrote this on 12/01/2012:
How I long for my home and the people I used to be close to.

Any requests?

I am taking requests to get me blogging again, what would you like me to talk about?

Here is an article about abuse survivors in Jersey.
http://www.channelonline.tv/channelonline_jerseynews/DisplayArticle.asp?ID=447225

I remember my counsellor in Jersey saying how she had abuse survivors from Haute de la Garenne seeing her and how they were afraid to speak up.

I just fished this off the ‘Homeless’ blog
http://blog.christianitytoday.com/women/2012/04/voice_of_the_victims_sex_abuse_1.html

lollys

Tony done a good blog about lollypops. http://tonymusings.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/benefit-of-clergy.html

It reminds me if Bishop Scott-Joynt and Archbishop Carey sucking lollypops at our garden party many years ago.

Thoughts

Here are random thoughts, apparently the Diocese of Winchester wasted nearly half a million pounds damaging lives, especially mine, and yet in the end they apparently tried to palm me off to the NSPCC, which would have cost them nothing?! Cheapskate! They could have given me some of that half a million to live on, seeing as I am ruined and will be unlikely to get out of poverty in the remainder of my crippled life, and the NSPCC is entirely inappropriate, they are, sketchily, there to help children who are being abused, in theory, and have none of the resources to deal with a severely traumatized and displaced adult, but I guess that because the Diocese wouldn’t have to pay them, as they are a charity, that is why the Diocese tried to palm me off on them after wasting half a million pounds.

The most frustrating thing is that the Diocese have got away with all this appalling mess, and no-one is holding them to account, Archbishop Wonga has not only allowed but condoned the damage, the Queen and Prime Minister are not interested, and so the Diocese have got away with flaying me and wrecking the rebuild of my life and leaving me profoundly damaged on top of the previous unhealed damage.

NSPCC?! HA!

You rabble gotta behave now, we have a VIP viewing the blog 🙂

I however, am allowed to poke my tongue out at the Bishop if I so wish :p

We had Bishops on this blog today, so it needs fumigating.
What is Bishop Tim reading my blog for? ominous.
I think he got the wrong post. Bish, try the more recent ones.

Ah, the reason uncle Tim started on that letter post was that was what he was given the link to, a long time ago.
He is slow.
But if he tries to have this blog taken down, the response will be very spectacular and public, cos the Church of England does not own the press in the UK! Bring it on, Tim, this blog is saved by a number of people and you will cause uproar if you have me battered and locked up again for writing my truth after having to hear your untruths in the press!

That Christmas -Jersey

The previous two Christmases had been sad, but that Christmas in Jersey ruined the magic of Christmas for me, right up to this Christmas, when unexpectedly and so soon after the nine months of hell from the Diocese, I have just had one of the best Christmases of my life.

Christmas in Jersey.
It could have been so different, it is very sad. I could have been on the mainland and had a good Christmas.
This is so hard to write.

The Korris report mentions the sexual abuse but never the emotional abuse.

A memory that frequently comes back to me is walking through St. Helier with the Church Warden, who called himself my ‘Daddy’, we were Christmas shopping.
Daddy was holding my hand as we walked, he often held my hand, and this was entirely his idea, he would hold out his hand for my hand, and he would walk with me, he called himself my ‘Daddy’ and called me his ‘little daughter’, regressing me to childhood.
Anyway, as we walked, he held my hand, but he kept snatching his hand away when he thought people ‘were looking’, which is what he did throughout our time together.
It hurt, it wounded me, because I fell for the innocent Daddy/Daughter thing, and a daddy does not hold his daughter’s hand and then snatch his hand away and go on about ‘people looking’, even if no-one is looking, it was psychologically harmful.
I know that may not make sense to many people, you have to live through it to really understand it, and few people have been ‘adopted’ and then regressed to childhood and suffered such confusing wounding.

Anyway, it is eternally sad to remember how that Christmas could have been different.

JM, my friend, the Vicar who betrayed me in supporting both her abusive husband and the churchwarden in Jersey against me, and making me out to be a lying nymphomaniac, was still my friend at the time, despite having denied her husband’s abuse of me, and blaming me, which left a permenant rift between us, but we were still good friends, and Juliet invited me over to spend Christmas with them that year, while all my friends were asking if I would come over (those friends who have been taken from me as a result of the Diocese), but the churchwarden, ‘Daddy’, wanted me to stay on the Island with him and his wife for Christmas.
I was concerned that ‘Mummy’, as he made me call her, was agreeing with him but did not seem enthusiastic, I kept asking if it was really alright? And in the end, I agreed to spend Christmas with ‘Mummy and Daddy’ in Jersey.

So, in order to even things out, I went to Hampshire for a pre-Christmas visit, to see everyone and give them Christmas gifts and cards.
Looking back on that makes me sad, because the Diocese have wiped out all those friendships by giving their side of things to everyone and parading me as mad and bad.

Anyway, I had a lovely pre-Christmas visit, and was just sad to miss the Christmas eve party at my friends’ and the Christmas I could have had with JM, having had a lovely Christmas with her and her family some years earlier.

So I returned to Jersey for Christmas.

And it was one of the most soul-destroying Christmases.

I will never forget that Christmas eve, I was lied to.

The Churchwarden’s wife told me that they were going to ‘run a few errands’, it was Christmas eve evening, they went out to a party that I was not invited to, and were out until very late night, running errands and going to a party and lying about it is not the same thing, and I was devastated. Already it was a very sad and upsetting Christmas. Because I knew I had been lied to, I knew where they were, I went to check. And I went down to the beach and cried.
Because the churchwarden always said I was their adoptive daughter, and yet, I was not part of their family publicly, they avoided telling anyone about that, including the people who’s party they went to with their son.

By the time they got back, very late, I had spent Christmas eve alone and had been lied to, and it was very sad, and I told them I knew, and didn’t get a very coherent response. As was always the case, the churchwarden’s wife was always happy to slate me, but never to take responsibility. She really was put in a bad situation by her husband, as she did not want me, and she was made to be my ‘mummy’ by him, I never liked her either, and I should have know how to see it was not a health situation, especially after she called me a burden. But the churchwarden seemed to like the tension and he deliberately stirred it up and caused conflict between her and me.

Anyway. So, it was a miserable Christmas eve spent on my own, and then midnight mass at that awful church with the churchwarden.
But the Christmas Day took the magic out of Christmas, because even up to then I saw Christmas as a magical time, and then I saw Christmas through the eyes of people who only saw it as a nuisance because they already had everything, and I was rejected in front of everyone by the churchwarden’s wife that day.

So Christmas Day was another dreary morning at that church, this time with the churchwarden’s wife and son, who hadn’t come to midnight mass with us.
Afterwards we went to the Churchwarden’s brother’s house, there was no present opening either before or after church or at the churchwarden’s brother’s house, it appeared that that had been forgotten in their version of Christmas, it was so sad.

But when we got to the Churchwarden’s brother’s house, I got the impression that Christmas was a nuisance to such people, who’s wealth meant it was Christmas every day, and there was no joy, no happiness, it was kind of funeral like in a way.

It was decorated for Christmas, as far as I remember, decorations on those sweeping staircases up to the landing. Very grand.
But it wasn’t Christmas there.
The Churchwarden’s brother had a teenage son from his second marriage, who was a Victoria college student, of course, because all the males in the family were. The Son was obviously not keen on it being Christmas, or joining the family for the polite and awkward social chat, he wanted to play his computer games, it was just another day.

The churchwarden’s brother, who’s name was John, had a daughter from his first marriage, who was over from London, and she was a lawyer. I remember the churchwarden’s son introducing her to me as his cousin, it reminded me sharply of how I was not really part of the family.
The churchwarden had said to me over and over again in the run up to Christmas, and that day, that I would be there as part of the family, but I obviously wasn’t.

The Churchwarden stayed close to me all the time, he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself, he was very quiet indeed, which was unusual for him, and even at the time, I was puzzled and did not know what was wrong with him, it remains a puzzle, he was not his loud and laughing self, he did not seem to like being there, he sat quietly, holding my hand when no-one was looking and keeping me with him, and it remains that I never knew him to visit his brother and family or phone them or speak of them in all the time I knew him, his wife did visit them, but he did not, and they never phoned. It is a sharp and spooky memory of his silence that Christmas Day that remains with me.
There was no real Christmas in that Christmas, we did have a big Christmas meal, and the Churchwarden continued to stay close to me.

After that we kind of sat somewhere, it seemed crowded and it was not a normal lounge, it seemed crowded when there was so much space in the other rooms.

It was awful, the Churchwarden’s wife made it quite clear in front of everyone that I was not family but someone they took pity on, after the Churchwarden had said I was part of the family and would be on Christmas Day.
Someone came to join the ‘Party’, us sitting there like lemons, and the churchwarden’s wife told the newcomer that I was someone from church that they had taken pity on.
(ie I was not the adoptive daughter that her husband said I was, and her tone said I was an unwelcome ‘burden’ as she had referred to me before).

I had had enough of being cramped and squashed and ‘taken pity on’, so I escaped this cramped pointless huddle in this room where were just kind of sitting, and I went outside, it was getting dark now, and my car, which I had driven up in as requested, was blocked in.
So I decided to go for a walk.

I walked in the dark, and I cried, because being family/not family was so very very painful, the churchwarden always told me I was family and that he was ‘Daddy’ and his wife was ‘Mummy’, his wife did not like being Mummy and was always carefully trying to cut me out and get rid of me, but Daddy was dominant and he said I was his daughter, and he regressed me to childhood and sat me on his knees, but the outside world and their own family did not know I was ‘daughter’ and they omitted it from their ‘Christmas Newsletter’, although, without my permission, they did put me and a photo of me with him in the newsletter, as a new friend or something, I always think that people who do Christmas Newsletters are very arrogant anyway.

Anyway, I kept walking, and crying, because it had been a dreadful day, not Christmas at all, no presents, no happiness and joy, no goodies, nothing apart from the meal, not even a decent church service – I was already looking for a new church anyway.
It was a Christmas with a family who simply endured Christmas rather than enjoying it, they had everything, and I was a burden. I walked up to the North Coast, looked at the stars and cried because I could have enjoyed Christmas on the mainland with my old friends.

I fell as I walked, my weak leg gave way and I went over, which made it all worse.

I went back, my car was no longer blocked in, and I drove back down the hill and to the churchwarden’s house, where I was staying at the time, he had told me not to lock myself in my room but I did, and I went to bed.
My phone rang and I was sleepy so I didn’t answer it, I slept, and I woke the next morning.

The next morning the churchwarden was knocking on my door and demanding that I came out so he could hug me, yes, that is what he was like, I told him it would be rude for him to hug me because I was still in my pyjamas.
But he persuaded me out and hugged me and hugged me and kissed me and told me he had come after me and tried to find me and had phoned me to ask me to come back for tea.

I didn’t belong with his family, an object of pity, and I could never have gone back and endured more, it had been an awful day.

Anyway, it never got any better, that Christmas took some of my innocent joy away, I did not know that people saw Christmas as a nuisance and an endurance, even in all my Christmases as a young adult, my friends and I enjoyed Christmas and the run up to it. I guess it was like finding out Santa Clus isn’t real, only I don’t remember that.

I think it was boxing day that we actually started unwrapping presents, I had plenty of presents from those (now gone) friends in Hampshire, I don’t remember much except a bone china mug with a £20 note in it from my friend who always did me a ‘teapot’ when I went to see her.

But I do remember how sad it all was, ‘Daddy’ wasn’t even in the room while we did presents, he spent most of his life alone in his office, but would call me to him if I walked past, and would sit me on his knees.
Anyway, Daddy was not there, and I was happily opening my presents and making a fuss, because that is what you do at Christmas, even if it is a day late, but then it was bad again, because this is when ‘Mummy’ decided to present her son with some family heirloom because he decided to marry the woman he was sleeping with at long last.
I felt that I was kind of in the way of a private moment, so I stopped making a fuss over my presents and went into the kitchen for a cup of tea, because I don’t know the rules but that was a private moment and I didn’t belong.
But then Daddy came in and asked my why I had left my presents? And I told him I was intruding, so he sat with me in the kitchen.

Oh, what an awful Christmas.

The Churchwarden, to his credit, did try to make it a happy Christmas for me,while I was away in Hampshire, he even put decorations and presents in my room, labelled ‘Daughter’, but his wife was quite clear long before Christmas, that I was a burden, which broke my heart, and she made Christmas awfully sad for me. And that Christmas haunted me for many years, even until this year, when I had such a healing and lovely Christmas.

In the days after Christmas, ‘Daddy’ and I sat doing a puzzle in the ‘dining room’, he was very loving and affectionate and close, sitting me on his knees, stroking and kissing and being very close, like a lover, even though his wife was often only in the kitchen.
And actually one of the reasons I thought it was ok was that she was nearby through that.
I believe he was trying to make up for Christmas, but he was too close to the boundaries.

After Christmas I crashed into severe depression, which the Doctor diagnosed as a virus, and despite saying it was a virus, he put me on antibiotics.
I didn’t really recover in my time in Jersey, and it looked like a return of the M.E. I had had a few years previously that I had overcome.

I remember ‘Mummy’ coming home and seeing me sitting there and saying ‘don’t beat yourself up’, which, even when I translated that into neurotypical, I never understood.
She refused to let anyone discuss Christmas ever again, but was quite happy to discuss my faults.

She did, for some reason, take me back to the brother’s house just after Christmas, and left me alone with the brother and his wife, I can only guess, but I think I was supposed to apologize for walking out.

The reality of how Money can’t buy happiness is all there in this account of that Christmas, joy and innocence cannot easily be bought but can be taken away very easily.

random – attachment disorder

Good morning,

I am waiting to return to my therapy and just musing quietly, because I cannot afford any books on attachment disorder.
How to help attachment disorder in my case:

• Lots of solitude, sitting here by myself, just doing my own thing, I am not lonely, my friends are within reach but I am better being alone for long periods of time, this is not a cure, but it helps keep the disorder quiet and under control. If I was being crowded and over-looked-after and intensely helped by people who misguidedly want to ‘love me better’ or ‘heal’ me, I would start going bonkers with distress because I have no ability to respond appropriately to close involvement, this is why ‘care’ doesn’t work for me, because I actually look after myself in basic needs, as best I can in poverty, but if anyone tries to look after me, I just get mad with distress, because the normal responses in me are messed up. This and autism spectrum, leads to me getting very angry and saying things I shouldn’t and running away.
• Independence, with friends around but not closely involved. We have a good balance here, I have friends nearby and further away, who are on the phone and email, and I see them at church or when I can, but they do not do the intense but misguided ‘healing’ thing that a number of over-zealous ‘Good Christians’ have tried to do, and harmed me and them. Intense involvement would not help me or anyone being intensely involved, because I am avoidant and react badly, the only thing that can change this is therapy.
• Therapy, I will have attachment therapy, it has taken until this year to realise that attachment disorder was the main problem, but it is at the core of my problems, and I need to realign my ability to bond and to break unhealthy bonds. I still also need EMDR, but I believe that the attachment therapy is a priority, because I can’t see EMDR working unless a proper foundation or healthy interaction with people is there first. That is my theory.

Duh!

Duh, I have been to wound up to think about the Steel report and all that.
Whoever brought legal representation against the Diocese over the Steel Report must have known what was in the Steel Report.
Duh, I guess all the bloggers and everyone must have known all that, but I am a bit dumb.