104 - A God, Blossoming

Lin

I'm much more relaxed today.

Probably because yesterday I was in serious need of a rest.

I had a call with my caseworker, and we're arranging for me to meet with my new neighbour on Tuesday in a proper appointment, so that we can set some ground rules.

Somehow, I feel like this person is a lot more chill than bin boy is, even though we haven't yet seen each other properly.

The weekend is sure going to be interesting.

I'm supposed to be seeing my nice neighbour after a long time, so I'm curious to see how I react to hanging out with him again.

Altogether, I'm feeling really positive. I do have one thing on my mind, though.

I read a myth this morning that tells a great number of lies about Celtic culture before Christianity, and on behalf of my Irish and Manx ancestors, I cannot help but feel anger.

This myth reduced our people to thieves and murderers, who would eternally be doomed to steal from the living, particularly from Christians, and to take innocent lives in sacrifice to Gods that live in the sea.

We are not thieves or murderers. We have too much honour to engage in such things.

I have no doubt that Mac Cuaill didn't steal anything from the Christian oligarchy - rather, he wanted to see the axe.

Because then, at least, there was a chance of him seeing his family again.

They say that history was written before Danú cried her pure tears upon this Earth.

But I beg to differ.

And I will change this treachery, this evil done unto our people, into something greener, purer, truthful.

The old Gods are returning, with me at the helm. And I will stop at nothing to see the lies told about us turn to ash, just like the Roman and Christian diaspora subjected our culture to before.

And I will do it all with a big smile on my face.

I'm back after much reflection, and I'm admitting something to myself yet again.

I didn't want to admit that I was lonely, nor how big my loneliness has been.

The voldys were an especially large part of this, as they heavily restricted my social mobility, and so when I left, being social and an extrovert actually gave me a few problems to deal with, as I hadn't learned proper boundaries, and was liable to clinging to people.

When I came out here, that didn't bode well for me.

Add the part where I found out that I was a God in the midst of a global pandemic, and you can see now why my social circle (aside from a few well placed, trustworthy people, and spirit guides), is essentially barren.

Not to mention that the voldys made a point of making me feel guilty for anything like loneliness which caused inconveniences for them. Any kind of discomfort, especially surrounding social circumstances, was looked upon with disdain and shame.

Both the Greek and Gaulish cultures I descend from are very communal, which is likely why this has hit me so hard.

The idea of being the 'strong' one (i.e. the punchbag) has made my idea of what is and isn't acceptable to experience very skewed.

The anger I feel for the lies about my ancestors, I feel, somehow ties in with all this.

Somehow, I get the sense that the voldys restricted my sociability because they knew that I could use it as a tool to find my real family. They hated that I was so good at it despite them getting me diagnosed with a disorder that supposedly contradicts that fact.

Aye. They were mad that they couldn't handle ye.

Mannanán walks past, ruffling my hair.

Don't pay it any mind now, lad. Ye deserve far better than those scumbags ye left behind.

He's right. I should focus on forming healthy relationships with people again, so that I can feel alive, and worthy of life.

Is Arianrhod going to stay?

He nods.

Aye. She's here for you. You'll get to speak to her soon enough. 

Gura mie ayd.

Of course.

He passes me a warm brownie pot.

I know ye've been wanting one, so have it.

Yet again, I'm almost in tears.

Cheers, Manny.

He just smiles and nods.

Consider it me saying "gura mie ayd" fer reading that myth.

He wraps the throw around me, and I tuck in.

My family are the best.