The Beginning of the Dark Age

I feel broken. Beyond repair. Defective. Unwanted. Alone and lonely. I could go on but I’m sure you get my drift. I suppose it is possible to know what you are but not who you are.

Anyway… I have to figure out how to live. First I need to accept the truth. It’s hard. I cannot understand why I would be created with a longing for someone to love me if it is something that cannot happen for someone like me. It is such an evil thing to do. Why it was done to me, I don’t know. But it has to first be accepted before we can learn to live with it. We cannot take the devastating hurt in our heart anymore.

I have Kiki and Marion who love us and we know that if anything were to happen they would have our back 100%. That’s a feeling that is so good I cannot describe it. We love them and are truly blessed to have them. Yes, there is some love in our life. Just not the kind of love we crave. Kiki and Marion both have “it”. A partner to share their life and love with. That is something we are banned from. Why? Again, I don’t know.

It started in childhood. I remember always being banished to my room. Now, I am banished to my apartment. Are people afraid of us? Ashamed of us? Simply don’t want to deal with us? You know what they say… out of sight, out of mind. We were so out of sight out of mind that when we ran away we had to call home to let them know we ran away. We were going to live in a cave, but still go to school. Hahahaaa. Truth.

Well, all that is left of The Collective is The Dark Ones. No more Missy, Tanya, Diana, Joanna…. and the rest of the lighter ones. Gone. I can’t feel them anymore. It feels empty where they were.

Just me having to take lead on this, Melany. I’ve never been out without “backup” before. To be honest, I don’t much like it. I’ve got to deal with Wendy and Diane. I can feel them fully. Even The Dead One. I’m not 100% sure of who is left yet. I do know that Bitch is still here.

We’re not so much like the shattered mirror anymore. I am not sure what we are now. It’s confusing. I do know it is dark. And big. I don’t feel grounded. It’s like having to learn how to skydive after someone shoved you out of the plane with the parachute in hand. You need to learn a lot to save your life in a very short amount of time. You’ve got to figure out how to put the damn chute on and get it open before you smash into the ground all while being in a panic, screaming while not knowing why you are falling in the first place.

Got to get this figured out quickly. I don’t know how much time I will have before Wendy and/or Diane wake. Looks like I’ll be writing more. That helps me to kind of get it out where I can see it.

We are definitely broken, but the question is… are we beyond repair? I don’t know, I think we are about as fixed as we are going to get. I think we always were, we just don’t want to accept it. However, this time, the point was driven straight through the heart. Some things you just have to accept because there is no changing them. You die, your dead. No changing that. You are born defective, you stay defective. Like death, there is no changing that.

Time to end for now and play some computer games where all I have to think about is matching colors or creating words lol.

Love, Melany



Spaghettification or The Noodle Effect. The process by which (in some theories) an object would be stretched and ripped apart by gravitational forces on falling into a black hole.

Stretched and pulled apart. The Collective is in utter chaos. Pieces have separated again. There is not much integration. A huge step backwards. Shattered. Again.

Into the darkness we were thrust. Chunks fell apart falling everywhere. Leaving the Dead One exposed for the first time. Left alone in the mess of debris. Open. Alone. Terrified. Mute. So tiny. Barely able to move. Vulnerable and defenseless.

The Cutter didn’t cut. She knew this pain was too deep for her to fix. She knew anything she could offer would make things worse for us all. So no offering was made. She screamed into the darkness instead. And screamed and screamed.

Yet we were still mute.

I am left to sweep up the mess and deal with the carnage. Just me. Melany.

I felt Diane’s desperation for this life to be over with already. She is tired and just wants out. She won’t do it herself so all she can do is long for the end and the new beginning in The Mist. In The Mist there is peace and love and understanding and total oneness. For a child she is wise beyond her years.

I felt Wendy’s feeling of worthlessness. Utter hopelessness of ever doing anything good, anything right. Ever. She is convinced that people were right in telling her it was her fault that her father is dead now. They blamed her. If it wasn’t for her neediness to be loved and accepted… it’s a hole that eats her up to this day. She is forever craving it like an addict craves their drug.

DieAnne knew what they expected of her and she was not giving it to them. They would talk bad of her and blame her and her alone. In our defense would be Kiki and Marion. For sure. We know that.

Berated over and over and over again. Beaten down verbally, mentally and emotionally. Used. Used and to be thrown away when all used up. Left alone. Again. Berated with lies and false accusations. Making sure she knows she is worth nothing. She is unlovable. Her love is toxic. Her love is thrown away. Like trash. She is taught it’s better not to love. By who? Someone who knows that love kills. Love hurts. Pain is all there is for her. The constant ache for companionship. For someone to love her.

The only ones I can feel inside that haven’t been blown far away are Diane, Wendy, DieAnne, The Cutter, Bitch, The Dead One and I’m not really sure who else is left. I can feel a few more of the darker ones scattered about. As for the others… Tanya, Missy, Diana… gone. Poof.

I fear we will never find what we are looking for, needing. Why? Some people are simply unlovable is all. We happen to be one of them. Just too broken for it to ever happen. That, for sure was drilled into us so deep it shredded our heart beyond repair. We get it. We are defective beyond repair looking for something only normal people get. We are the cat who was given a home in the water.

On that note…

Love, Melany