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| Disquietude, James McBeyy, 1914, Aberdeen Art Gallery |
Pigface and PigWife eventually got what they wanted. They effectively got permanent control of mum for the second time because they had utterly crushed me. I still had power of attorney but it had always been meaningless. They took the information, the power, the assets, mum and the narrative. I've resigned POA so they have the house too and everything in it they haven't already taken.
My narrative is what this is about now. At least trying to put down my story. It's all I've got.
I was having panic attacks and shutdowns up until they took mum as the Social Services attacks increased . The direct attacks on me stopped because I was no longer an obstacle and the shutdowns stopped almost straight away.
I was strung out for the last two weeks of June 2025. Although mum was a prisoner again I had finally accepted I couldn’t live my life for her and especially trying to defend her at the cost of my health, probably my life and my family had really suffered since February 2024 when I left them while my elder son was doing his Higher exams to look after both my parents at their house.
I went away three times in July and August to try and get over it all and to get away from a hum that afflicted me in the house from the day mum left. They had won. Mum was trapped, their prisoner. I was in pieces. It was time to move on. Things seemed better when I was away but I realised I was more emotionally fragile than I thought.
Once I came back, in September 2025 to my city, to my house, the site of the attacks. To counter those memories and try to rebuilt myself, I decided to make an effort to do nice things fo myself, something small every day. I went to the wonderful Art Gallery in Aberdeen during a couple of days away.
There’s a view then that trying to understand why people can do the horrors that people can do to one another isn’t pertinent to recovery. It just pulls you on to their ground and potentially back into the sickening things they did. So the focus changes to trying to reclaim your life, get therapy, to doing whatever moves you forward.
It didn’t wholly work. Stress and anxiety became quite severe.
Sometimes doing a nice craft thing with a group brought about a near panic attack.
I was terrified of people a lot of the time, but it could be situational.
I couldn’t walk in the streets of my town without fear. It got worse the closer I got to the council offices. I had to start masking up to go into town.
I couldn’t see the GP alone because I became mute there. I had to wear a hat, dark glasses. There was a power imbalance there and a history of being disempowered there.
I couldn’t go to social events in my own town. I was terrified of meeting social services but not knowing them.
Whole categories of people became threatening: including all Scottish women of working age in my town.
If I went to an event something without a clear structure, it was worse. Things improved if I returned to something where I knew the people and felt less threat.
Between September and December I developed a raft of physical problems: suspected neuromas in my foot, upper right arm muscle pain, crawling in my face, tinnitus in my ears, a lesion on my spleen that hadn't been there in January, muscle pain in my left arm, and finally my neck. From December 2025 through January 2026 I have had near constant pain under my right ribs. I've had it before. The cause isn't known. I've often had it in the holidays.
I didn’t think much about meaning I don’t think, in this time. I was mostly trying to deal with the health issues, get therapy and move on. My grounding techniques were helping keep the intrusive thoughts at bay.
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