Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!

For any non-Americans of you, to say”uncle” means I Give Up. Usually in reference to being picked on by bullies on the playground at the sadistic practice that is school recess.

For us it’s a very loaded term of course because our uncle was our primary pedophile.

Which is really weird phraseology, that the man was “our” anything. As if he belonged to us and we to him. It’s the Dance that has shattered our self-concept, this belonging to a monster who made us one in return. Sort of a vampirish thing had he not staked us through the heart before we could add up 2 and 2.

Uncle Norman owns our body and he raped us out of a soul. And that is the gods’ honest truth. He possessed us entirely then left us alone to unfortunately survive. And yet every time he would be decent to us that need of him returned. Maybe not this time. Maybe he means it when he tells us he loves us. Maybe he will feed us today.

And that connection is the very thing that had morphed us into being a beast. True that had we tried to run he might have killed us. We fail to see the relevance.

We are not a group of fools. The Voice Of Reason inside us, a part that unfortunately has little influence, knows all about the Stockholm Syndrome. But the little splintered children inside do not know what this means. And that is what counts.

We have written the narrative of what happened to the New Girl who’s bleeding all over everybody else. And come tomorrow we will have to tell another living soul about it. It is what T wants and so it’s what the woman is gonna get.

But for today we cannot seem to move. The connection is just too powerful. There is helpless chaos whinging around at the same time that we feel nothing. Just an empty void.

And so. The house is a mess the cats need attention. The sun is out and it’s almost above freezing. And yet all we can do is to cancel our clients go back to bed and fall.

Uncle. Uncle. Uncle.



  1. me said,

    January 13, 2010 at 12:34 pm

    thinking/writing about it all = exposure therapy … which brings on symptoms of ptsd etc … HUG! you’re very brave.

    • January 13, 2010 at 12:42 pm

      We would feel braver if we could get outof bed.

      • me said,

        January 13, 2010 at 1:06 pm

        you’ve got a LOT to handle – you’re allowed some downtime

  2. January 13, 2010 at 5:00 pm

    I agree with me – I think you’re very brave to face this and write about it. You’re allowed ‘duvet days’ – I think you deserve a few.

    Be gentle with yourself – take care x

    • January 13, 2010 at 5:14 pm

      Thanks for your thoughts. No bravery is in us, though. Thinking about telling the…narrative to T tomorrow we’re mostly worried that we won’t piss ourselves. Not too courageous. :(.

      • me said,

        January 14, 2010 at 12:05 am

        with all due respect to all of you … bullshit 😉 courage is being terrified and doing it anyway. and you’re doing it anyway.

  3. Karita said,

    January 17, 2010 at 1:41 pm

    You are brave. I can’t think of anything else to say.

    • January 17, 2010 at 1:50 pm

      We’re just a f*clef upess who can’t shut the hell up. F*cking whiner. 😦

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