175 - A God, Cognisant

Lin

So I just triggered myself by looking at the conversations between myself and bin boy from the screenshots I kept.

Honestly, play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

One thing did stick out to me though - which was that I had already asked him to leave before the first fight.

Which means that not only was my boundary not listened to the first time, my non-negotiable next boundary was not listened to, either.

From what I remember, starry pants was there and basically forced me to let him stay. I was kind enough to give him a second chance.

And all the very obvious language I had used up until he actually got kicked out was totally ignored, until my ex-caseworker, who was the first logical person to support our household, outright banned the fool from using mine and my new neighbour's kitchen again.

I was very clear, despite what he'd have people believe.

Because of the abuse I had been faced with before, he used that to attempt to blackmail me into not setting my boundaries. He bullied Cecilia, he bullied Gabriella and he bullied me by trying to gaslight us all about the reality we all saw: that he was a narcissistic abuser, and that his friends were enabling him to continue with that behaviour.

Even though I did bring up thinking he was more able than myself based on his behaviour around me, and comparing myself to him being a tad shortsighted, I did also have a right to question him given that his behaviour didn't match the disability he claimed to have, except for one time.

Most of the times I saw him, he acted very much as though he was able bodied, including running up and down stairs, despite claiming that he had a condition that would cause him to faint and 'hit his head'.

Given that he told me these things, the behaviour he exhibited made no sense if he knew that he had those problems and was therefore crippling himself in order to cook in my kitchen.

Keep in mind, he also cooked multiple times a day whilst we shared a kitchen whenever he was around, hence my concern for whether or not I myself would faint if I didn't wait in the kitchen doorway for him and his friends to get their entitled arses out.

There was also the fact that he complained about not having a space of his own in the house, when literally everyone (aside from my nice neighbour, who has his own kitchen) has to share the communal facilities.

Not to mention, I have had no problems that couldn't be solved with communication with either of my other neighbours - even with my new neighbour, who actually follows my boundaries. With him, there was no talking unless you wanted an earful of shit.

Recalling when I first allowed him to share, I gave him the condition that he could use my freezer tray only if the tray I gave him was overflowing, and that he therefore actually needed the space.

Which he vehemently denied me saying as well.

Moreover, the way I worded things wasn't totally coherent either because he triggered me in the first place, by acting like some other abusers we know of.

The voldys.

So even if I had wanted to explain myself clearly, I wouldn't have fully been able to because he made a point of turning my conversation about boundaries into a fight.

Consequently, I've become quite a bit of a recluse. My new caseworkers know this, so I'm grateful that they're here for me first and foremost.

I know that a lot of the behaviour I've shown means I most likely have some form of PTSD.

A lot of people probably wouldn't want me to outright search for the parts of myself that ail as it can make them worse, but I think this has gone on for far too long.

Other than that, today has been bright.

I had Gourmet Burger Kitchen's Duke Wellington burger, which tasted amazing.

I have yet to finish the chips, but then again, I feel that somehow, me rehashing my trauma has tired me out more than usual.

Because of this, I need to look out for me first and foremost.

A man covered in moss and twisting branches waves at me from within my system, smiling. He towers over me, undefined yet strong muscle showing a great deal of potential combat prowess. Yet I sense a very natural, relaxing vibe emanating from him.

There's only one person I can conceive of this being.

Hello, Herne.

He nods, bowing.

Greetings, Linden.

As he rises, I extend my arm towards him.

Handshake?

His smile returns, and his large hand wraps around my sinewy arm, whilst mine barely latches onto his.

Of course.

Branches of oak curl around my forearm for a minute, and when we let go, the branches furl back towards their master, buzzing with electricity and covered in linden flowers, as well as evergreen leaves.

I see you've been practising.

I nod.

I need to be stronger. For myself - and my people.

He nods.

That may be what you think you need - but strength can also come with being cognisant of yourself and your abilities, as well. 

Given that amendment, perhaps now is a good time to remind yourself of what you are capable of now, if that would help you?

I only say this as I worry you might overburden yourself, especially given that you basically rule everything now.

He has a point. As much as I have felt like I've been resting on my laurels, much of that has come from consistently experiencing several undiagnosed disorders as a result of consistent trauma. I potentially have complex PTSD from my trauma surrounding bin boy alone, let alone the horrors I experienced at the hands of the voldys and rickmansworth.

Knowing this, it may be wise to follow his advice, as dwelling on what I'm able to do now is far better than dwelling on the evils that my enemies have done to me, especially given that I know there are more than a few spirits working on dealing with those people's karma on my behalf.

Alright. Where should I start?

He smiles.

Wherever you want to start, Lin. And if you can't start now, that's perfectly ok, too.

I nod.

When I'm ready, I'll get a notebook.

He nods.

You're doing well already.

When I come back to, I realise that Herne's woodcutting axe is resting by the fireplace.

He's here.

I turn to witness Merlin and Herne sitting together, arms around each other's shoulders, and Arthur smiling, too. Something about all this seems so...

Homely.

My heart swells seeing them all together, especially given how Herne was vilified after one of rickmansworth's men pretended to be him. That pretender attempted to kidnap me in Herne Bay by spiritually luring me to the area, using Herne's name as a way of guiding me right into the cult's trap. 

It was only because of a good friend of mine that I got out of there unscathed, but I learned an important lesson that day - not to immediately trust in those who call themselves anything spiritually, unless they show proof of those things, whether that be knowledge of a language that they can speak in common with your ancestry, or encouraging you to physically research a culture they belong to that results in proof being made evident by said research.

Hey, you're back!

Arthur passes over what looks to be an order of Five Guys, and I open the bag to find a bacon cheeseburger, fries and a Reese's and strawberry milkshake. I can't help but grin.

You guys are amazing.

Of course! You're one of us.

Arthur raises his milkshake, as do the rest of us.

Wait, it's Five Guys. Who's our fifth guy?

Terrence nabs the fifth bag from behind me.

Me.

I cackle, and everyone else wheezes, aside from Arthur, who stares at him in amused bewilderment. 

Lin, your husband.

I know.

I tug at his shirt, and he takes a seat next to me, placing a welcome arm around my shoulders, raising his arm to toast as well.

A sixth bag gets dumped on the table, and Bailey, of all people, jumps into the nearest armchair to Arthur.

Dia duit. Yes, Terrence let me in, no I came in through the back door. Do you want me to say arhansek or are you good?

I do my utmost to hold in my laughter.

Bailey is Féa, one of the four Morrìgna, and a Goddess of Fate, Death and fear, as well as life and prophecy, among many other things I have yet to remember. She moved to the Gaelic colonies in North America after the Ever-Living War, but visits often now.

It's ironic how the people I get along with the best tend to be called 'the hateful' in mythology. Both Styx and Bailey have been called that numerous times.

Anyway...

We're good.

She nods.

Great, I'm the sixth guy.

Arthur's about to protest light-heartedly, and Bailey simply responds.

In Lin's words, don't fuck with me.

The whole room erupts with laughter, and Bailey smirks. Arthur shakes his head, his face turning rosy from said laughter, but maintains his composure somewhat.

Alright, what are we toasting to?

Merlin answers.

To the camaraderie that keeps us together. To us, our family, with and without blood.

Yec'hed mat!