2009 has *not* been a good blogging year for me so far. That tiny little ice storm we had interrupted things just slightly, and now I’m a bit of a wanderer.
Because of events completely unrelated to the storm, I’ve found myself without a steady place to live. It’s a position I’ve been in before, but it’s typically been in larger cities. Here’s a bit of odd information– it’s easier to be homeless in urban areas. One would think that rural areas with fields and sometimes empty barns would be the ideal place for a wanderer. However, small town policemen are much less forgiving, at least in my experience.
The last time I found myself in this position, I stayed in the city park in a little space between some trees. It provided enough shelter that the weather was tolerable, and I wasn’t visible to everyone passing through. I parked my car at a nearby stadium and walked the few blocks over. Now, however, the police keep a much closer watch on that park, so I can’t stay there. Certain Wal-Mart stores would actually let people sleep in the alleys behind the store. That was stopped as well, and there are several security cameras in most of the parking areas. Small towns are not homeless friendly.
Right now I’m staying with my best friend. He is so amazing and has been sleeping on the sofa all week so that I can borrow his bedroom. I feel *awful* about his sleeping on the sofa, but he seems rather more than a bit insistent. I’ll only be there until the end of the week, though– his brother is staying there as well, and the landlord might be slightly less than pleased about having another person who is not on the lease staying there. My best friend and his mother have lived in the same apartment complex for quite a few years now, and the last thing I want is to make things difficult between them and their landlord.
The question, then, becomes where to go after this week. The problems I’m dealing with right now involve SRA, which makes them rather tricky. As I explained to a dear friend yesterday, part of this is strategy. I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to separate myself completely from the cult for many years. Programming definitely plays a *huge* part in all of this– some of my insiders are still cult-loyal, and there is still a cult-related part of the system that neither I nor the other main players in the system can access. Not a pretty situation.
The other side of this is that I play the game so well. I know what is expected from me in the eyes of the cult. I also know how I’ve deviated from that. Unfortunately, I belong to one of those lovely bloodlines that go back for centuries of cult involvement. A rather odd looking scar on my arm identifies that as well as the rank I was supposed to take. The fact that I *haven’t* taken that role and don’t indicate any willingness to do so puts me at risk. I bring this up simply because I know I’m not yet free of them. I also know I’ll never be free of them completely. The important thing is that my fear of them, for the most part, is gone. As I’ve learnt this week, death threats bring that fear back. There’s a difference in not feeling victimised and acting in self defence.
So we’re looking at shelters now. If I am ever to break free from this Stuff to the point that I no longer live with these people, I have to have a permanent sort of place to stay for a bit. Somewhere at least safer than where I currently live and where I can stay for an indefinite amount of time. Without that in place, I can almost recite how the programming will be activated. I don’t know how my programming was implemented, to some extent. One of the safeguards put in place by this particular cult is that people don’t know the programming put in place by their superiors. I know how to activate and create programming in those below my rank. It’s not something I’m proud of, and it’s certainly not something I would *ever* use again. It’s just what I grew up with and what I had to do to stay alive at the time. Fortunately, I’m not the least bit involved in that any more. Since I’m not living in the actual cult bases refusing to work in that capacity no longer means sudden death. What I *don’t* know is the bit of programming in my mind that those who hold higher positions than the one I was supposed to hold put in place. That also plays rather a large part in my attempts to break free completely.
The goal, then, is to get myself out of immediate danger. That will mean fighting myself, plural, rather constantly for a while. It’s certainly possible, though, and the more I learn about my own programming, the stronger I grow in that ability.