Let me begin this with one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. I need to do that, because I need to make you love me just a little for this to work.
What makes the music so beautiful for me is that it almost (perfection is an offence in the sight of God and rightly) achieves the pinnacle of the extension of the symphonic form into a whole new dimension of oscillation…the songs of a new dimension.
I could talk about music for hours without repeating myself. Music was my mother, my father, my oldest friend and my first love, the only emotional upbringing I ever had. I soaked it up like a sponge becoming one with the sound. It breaks my heart to recognise that I am too old to dance now. But I can sing again, as I could not for so many years, maybe I will be able to compose again at least once before I die.
…but I do not talk about music for hours because there is no-one to hear me and there never will be.
I have wardrobes of gorgeous outfits that will never be worn because there will never be anywhere to wear them, and there never has been.
This is not loneliness, I am not lonely, I cannot relax even with those dearest to me. I cannot be myself, ever, so I shut myself away and live on as a perpetual interrupted cadence. A little like Miss Havisham I suppose. A form without substance hand in hand with a quite separate substance without form.
There is no way to fix that, and nothing anyone can do. I cannot say I am not in pain because I do not know if I am or not, that is how far I have to detach from all unnecessary emotion to function.
I am not asking for your help or your pity, neither would be of any use. I wouldn’t know what to do with them now. It is far too late for all of that.
I will not plead for myself, I was raised to believe, rightly or wrongly that I had no right, I have learned since from hard experience that there is no point anyway.
I am asking instead for enough of your love that at least one person is too ashamed to ever do this to a human being again.
I wasn’t always cynical. I used to believe the best of people, I just see how misguided that is a little quicker than most people and lack the ability to deny it afterwards.
I still do not believe that humanity is inherently evil, though I recognise I lost all capacity to be compatible with people long ago I can still recognise great good in some, even most, people, but never in the people who offer “help” or “rescue”. The reason why is probably as simple as the fact that anyone with compassion or empathy feels too much pain in the pain of others to be around it for long, so that only those with ambition and a hunger for power where their compassion and empathy should have been can remain in place, and the power conferred by the vulnerability of others draws them like a magnet.
The worst thing about it is not so much the cruelty, corruption and perfidy, but rather the absence of any kind of good or hope.
In some ways I have learned how to become the same kind of monster to counter that…because somebody has to, and god knows there is nothing else I can do with my life and the love within me.
People inured to abuse tend to dream about that moment that Hollywood often summarises with the good Sheriff wrapping them in a blanket, handing them a mug of cocoa and telling them everything is going to be all right.
The person who took that role in my life was a mild mannered bearded social worker in North Dublin. In the fullness of time he turned out to be (almost, but not quite, incidentally to my own life, I did not catch anything like the worst he is capable of) one of the most cold bloodedly evil people I have ever come across. I still uncover his toxic footprints in the lives of other, decent and vulnerable people who deserved so much better, to this day…and it is not as if I ever had to go looking.
In two weeks clause 15 will be operative in Northern Ireland and will start taking damaged people and feeding them to abuse like that. I cannot delude myself about that, even if I wanted to, there is nothing good or genuine on offer, just people who use religion as an excuse to push people around, people who use feminism as an excuse to push people around and people who use both as an excuse to push people around, all of them with the same goal in mind; the main chance.
I know that clause 15 will not help anyone except those who plan to derive power and profit from it. I also know that it will put other, innocent people into the same kind of fear and pain that I have lived my life in, and there will be no mercy and no court of appeal because there never is.
The sheer cruelty of it is breathtaking.
North or South of the border the politicians and the NGOs would not even listen to us, and that was simply because they could not care less, they have their own agenda and we can be used to further it, that is all they care about, and all they ever have cared about.
I have done my best, I have been the most cold blooded, Machiavellian ball breaking bitch it is in me to be to try and stop this, or at least hold it off…and I failed…over and over again.
Reasonable or not with a mind like mine I SHOULD have been able to hold it together enough to do them a lot more damage, and make enough ordinary people see how downright wicked this agenda is to stop it.
But I couldn’t hold it together enough, and now other people will have their lives bled out and wasted the way mine was.
Theirs is the right to despise me for that, because of all those who knew what would really happen, I was the only one with a capacity to care about anything outside myself. I had no right to fail with their lives on the line.
But I did.