275 - A God, Travelling

Lin

Sometimes when you need a job done, you have to do it yourself.

Today was just so - I asked for help with going to get my money and depositing it into my bank account, yet no one seemed bothered about helping me.

In the end, after two trips to Muswell Hill and Camden respectively, I somehow managed to get it all done on my own.

Whilst I do feel proud of myself for having been able to do it in the state I was in (both on my period and nutrient deprived), I can't help but feel some level of anger about the whole situation.

On one hand, I do understand that people have lives and can therefore be incredibly busy, especially in the industry they work in, which can, at times, be thankless.

However, the abandonment and neglect I have experienced despite multiple requests for help, and the dogmatic approach to helping me which disregards all sense of safety and security for me, has taken its toll on too many occasions for me to ignore.

Frankly, I think this whole industry is a mess, and it needs a huge overhaul.

Perhaps there is a way of claiming industries that I don't know about? Or, more likely, don't remember. I should probably do a reading on it.

As I'm thinking this, my Maman hands me a steaming tray, on which sits a bowl of Brezhoneg seafood stew, fried halloumi, a krampouezh (galette) topped with an egg, mustard and andouille (as we all know, my favourite) and a large slice of moussaka, alongside what looks to be my Maman's speciality - marzipan lemonade.

You don't have to eat it all now, ma môr, but try to eat some of it, mat eo din?

She ruffles my hair, and I smile.

Mat eo din, Mammig.

As I tuck in, she takes a seat next to me, munching on her own moussaka as she speaks to me.

Do you want me to help?

I gaze at her curiously.

What do you mean?

With you getting the help you need. You know how much experience I have - and I have no doubt that others in our family can and want to help you, too.

Ruminating over this, I sigh. I guess I'll have to admit this at some point.

During my time with the voldys, taking help from anyone was effectively saying you would be in debt to them. 

But, more than that, it was a way of telling someone that you were vulnerable.

I pause, and Maman nods, encouraging me gently to continue.

My idea of independence, because of the way in which help was forced upon me, as opposed to tailored to me, resulted in me leaving the voldys. But it left a lasting impression on me - that I'd be giving away my independence, showing that I'm weak, if I were to allow people to help me.

And whilst I know that's not true, it sometimes sure as hell feels like it is. As a result, it feels like I can't trust anyone to ever properly help me, because they're always looking to keep me in a bird cage for their own benefit.

The voldys kept me because I was essentially a sentient pylon for them, giving them energy, abilities, etc, that they wouldn't otherwise have had. Other friends and neighbours have also tried this, and I'm lucky that this time, I refused to be bled dry.

Then again, saying that, look what Ali did to me.

I sigh.

This whole thing has led me to believe that most people - but especially family - will want something huge from me in exchange for taking care of my needs when I can't, ironically keeping me in the loop of codependency whilst they reap all the benefits.

And again, whilst I know it's not true for you and our real family, I can't help but fear losing everything.

My whole identity with the voldys was built on the idea of me being a disabled child, and that I would therefore be a slave to them for the rest of my life. Even something as small as a meal would cost me for the rest of my life.

Which was part of the reason why I refused Ali's food when he offered it to me at the beginning of me allowing him to use my kitchen - so that I wouldn't owe him anything. That, and I probably avoided myself being bugged further than I already was.

Now being independent has become being alone - because I no longer feel like I can trust anyone to treat me, to afford me, with the kind of care and respect that they would treat anyone else with. All because of a diagnosis that I didn't even ask for, from a bunch of people who weren't even my family in the first place - who literally kidnapped me from you - that was twisted into this eldritch horror of a thing that said kidnappers decided to tell me nasty stories about.

Because they couldn't stand the idea of me being uncontrollable, the idea of me being and living without them.

They stole my entire life just to get ahead. And I hate them for that! I hate that they took my childhood like it was theirs to take! I didn't even get to spend my childhood with Olly, and I barely got any time with you or Da! 

It just makes me so angry.

Setting her fork down, Maman wraps an arm around my shoulders.

What they did to you was sacrilege.

Taking a sip of her own lemonade, her expression turns stony.

But that does not mean that you don't deserve or need the help - so I feel it is probably best that all of us work to earn your trust.

After everything that's happened, it makes sense, right? You need a guarantee that what you give will be reasonable in comparison to what you get - and whilst I'm sure you know that it can't be that way all the time, that does not mean that at any point, we'll be asking you to break your back to accommodate any of us.

You're my child, Lin. You always have been, and you always will be. So if there is anything you need, you can always come to me. Because that's how it's supposed to be - we come to each other when we need help.

Of course, we won't force any of that help on you if you don't need or want it, though we might give you some pointers just in case. I know your independence and freedom as a sentient being is important to you. So...

She smiles at me as my face crumples, and she embraces me fully.

We'll find a balance. How about that?

I nod, snuggling into her chest.

We'll get there, mat eo din?

With her hands stroking my hair, I feel the safest, most loved in a maternal way that I probably have ever felt in my life.

As for the autism diagnosis, well, we can always look further at your neurology, and what your professional support has to say about that. I can get Psyche involved, if you want me to.

Mar plij.

Mat eo din. Do you need or want anything else?

I shake my head.

Just this.

Before she replies, she stops short, realising what I'm referring to, and grins.

Ma plijadur, ma môr.