My Diary place

@Avaray @Avaray @Avaray

Hi

Just to let you know that I hear you and send you a hug .

Trigger warning: Abuse, sexual violence, violence.

Writing this was very difficult and took me months, it also makes me feel really vulnerable to share it, but I will, part of finding me is being honest with myself. The following words are part of that process. If you read this be warned that is might be uncomfortable for you and you should not do so unless you feel strong enough to read, these sadly true words. Thank you if you do.

Nepoleon was taller than me!
This is a strange statement, but he really was taller than me although if I stood on my toes I am almost as tall as Joan of Arc and I’m almost 2cms (rounding up of course) taller than Marie Curie. Moving on: having moved from Canada to the city of my birth for my undergraduate degree, it has been somewhat difficult with the first semester being about having certain goals. To make a friend and basically to see if I could learn here, that was the plan. I could go back after four weeks; four weeks was actually the limit to how much I agreed to. There is good news, now I’m in my second semester, so I made it!  There were other people who struggled with this move to university and happily, one of them is now my friend. She moved from a different country; having learnt Catalan she also was having a difficult time being here. It is with some relief that she is also in her second semester and that my fears, reflected in her, reminded me they were at least natural and perhaps grown up. It is also nice to have her around when I switch automatically to French. We are the linguistically confused ladies of physics! There are not that many other girls or ladies of physics around these parts but there are some and I have made more friends, although not a handsome Irish boy who likes poetry that I can kiss (I might delete that later).

In order to concentrate on my first semester Mommy and me agreed, with the exception of counselling with a new person, that I would just focus on the goals above. Moving away from the other things that made my life enjoyable, sometimes frustrating and even made me angry has meant that I have kind of missed doing things. Such things as painting, reading, playing the violin and… I thought that the list would be longer. At Christmas talking to mommy, it seems right to bring those things back, do not get me wrong, learning physics takes most of my energy and it feels like it takes most of my time just to keep up, still the other things are important to me as well. I did read a book on Egyptian Gods during the first semester; it was short and less comprehensive than other books I’ve read on the subject. It was a welcome distraction that was needed at the time. I have started violin lessons again to which I say are strictly private and I do not play for anyone but myself. I have started a painting and reading Les Misérables, which I found a quote that feels right to share. For context, I feel at home in many different places, but it felt right to at least acknowledge that I miss the places that I am not in, even if it is a little silly.

“As long as you are busy bustling about in your native land, you imagine that you couldn’t care less about these streets, that these windows, these roofs, these doors, are nothing to you, that these walls are foreign to you, that these trees are any old trees, that these houses that you never enter are useless to you, that these cobblestones you are walking on are just stones. Later, when you are no longer there, you realize that those streets are dear to you, that you miss those roofs, those windows, and those doors, that those walls are necessary to you, that those trees are beloved trees, that those houses you never entered you entered every day, and that you left your blood and guts and your heart on those cobblestones.”  - Victor Hugo

Victor Hugo was talking about the way France had changed during his lifetime rather than moving to a different place in the world, however it does seem to resonate with me. I have more than one ‘native land’ and I get to go back to them, knowing when I leave this place, I will strangely miss it even more than before. Travelling back to places reduces the feeling of losing things for me and fills me with delight. I have to say living with my maternal grandmother also known as Mama for so long has been lovely and she is helping me with a great deal of things. Such as spelling in a language that I have spoken all my life just not written a lot in, it being amplified by the joys of being dyslexic and helping me with the evilness of stairs. I’m happy to report that only once have I fallen down them, only hurting my arm for a couple of weeks. She is a lot softer with me than she is with most people but that is because I am her favourite and of course, adorable. She was not warm and comforting with her own children, but she seems to have changed from being that way. She still hates fascists, as do I!

I have been perhaps too focused on not being grown up enough, which is a bit like not liking myself and having anxiety about doing things that I do not consider to be grown up enough despite those things helping me and being part of me. Without thinking, on one of Mama’s and my evening walks in which we gather vital intelligence information also known as gossip, I took Henry with me. Henry is a teddy pig not a real one, I would like a real pig, but his name would be Snuggles. I forgot to think whether it was grown up or not, it was just I wanted to hold him for some reason, so I did. Someone did make a comment and Mama quickly ensured they regretted making any comment whatsoever, they will not make that mistake again. Part of me simply does not care but another part of me really does care about being perceived as an adult. Being disabled for almost all of my life has resulted in me not being able to do certain things or needing help with them, at school I always wore a dress because if I lent over then no one would be able to tell that I was wearing a nappy. Most people knew after a while but once someone called me a baby, so I bit them. I do not get some things, and other things I will always need help with, even though I would like to be more grown up or perhaps it is time to start biting people again.

This kind of brings us to the next part and perhaps the more important piece however, you might not like it.

With the help of the lovely counsellor that I have here, we have been discussing trauma or PTSD and how it affects me. That does not just come from the abuse but also from the hospital, the physiotherapy and its impact on me now.  From being very ill when I was three years old it resolved itself to the never-ending challenge of never feeling grown up enough, the brain damage has given me gifts like synaesthesia, it also means I am shorter than I would have been and an ongoing battle to control my bladder. The shadows of this past can result in my waking up unable to breathe through sheer panic and to some degree the issues that I have with food. Some of the food issues do come from the abuse, don’t get me wrong, some of it comes through the irrational fear of things getting stuck in my throat and getting ill. Part of the problem is in my head the question ‘Is this safe to eat’, this thought spans both the illness and abuse. Swallowing was something I remember having to relearn and it does manifest itself in strange ways. This new way of understanding perhaps because my counsellor is using the gestalt method, is about finding why in this moment these things are causing distress. Being aware of them and how they fit together, for me this is a great way of understanding things even if it is somewhat terrifying. The end hope is that I can be in control, which is the same as being powerful inside myself.

On the 16th of January 2017 I told my bestest friend what was going on, she knew some time before, but she was not completely sure, not certain enough to make that claim that I was being abused. What she did made me angry at her, at Mommy and with other people as well. It was the right thing to do even though it took me a long time to understand and with this understanding, I’m grateful people allowed me to be angry with them. There is no better measure of kindness and compassion, than allowing those you love to be angry at you, I am lucky those people were part of my life. Now as an adult I am not ready to have sex all these years later, neither was I ready back then but I wish that I could have experienced sex on equal terms with a person that I love, and that love being returned alike and in kind with us both wanting to explore sex and being excited in doing so. What happened when I was younger, a child, was not sex though even now it is difficult for me to really know that. It was about lies, hiding, causing physical pain and only doing what the other wanted, it was rape in all its degrees. Not just that but rather more, it was acts of violence, threats of violence, it was the fear of the consequences if it were to be ‘found out’.  Daddy, my daddy, inflicted all of this and the degradation of our relationship and my relationships with others. He caused nightmares, anxiety and real fear even in the mundane events that I went through which most people embrace with ease. It hurt me physically, and emotionally and it bruised my soul. But that was not the worst part, the betrayal was.

The first part of this betrayal was that Daddy decided to do this to me, someone who did not understand what was even going on, he took away my voice to express my worries and concerns and my right to seek comfort. The acts that were performed not only lasted on those days but years after they took place. He also took away his right to be part of my life. While, for a long time I wanted him to be part of my life, going so far as to really miss him deeply, there might never be any form of reconciliation. Despite not feeling grown up, I have in many ways and achieved more things than I thought that I could. Look at me studying physics as an undergraduate having earned my place. New friends, new members of the family (my God Sister) and with relationships not only fixed but made better and stronger. Although I am still often filled with anxiety, it has lessened a great deal, the same thing with nightmares, and flashbacks and my confidence is growing (despite not always feeling like it has done so). If I can stand up in front of 20 people and talk, it must mean that things inside me have really changed and not only due to speech therapy but to confidence. The biggest change is I like myself more now and that should never be so understated because it is so important.  A few months ago, in my notes on this, it was written ‘I held sadness that he has missed out on so much’, it would be a lie to say I feel the same way now. While I’m still allowed to be angry, he should find himself deeply saddened he decided not to be part of my life and find despair that I will not let him be.

To the second part of his betrayal: Daddy was my full-time carer for so long and he violated Mommy’s trust, now I am starting to understand by how much. As the years have gone by, I have started to see how much and the extent of the damage. Mommy places guilt on herself, even me reasoning with her has not changed that, she feels she wants that guilt. That very thought is starting to make me cry, she is willing to hold that guilt out of love, I know it is not being held by anger. She has the right to be angry and to a degree she is for the discarded manner Daddy used me while he was meant to be my protector teacher and someone, I could explore the world with.  For me to dismiss this man, who is my father, is easy because there is so much around that it outweighs anything he could have given me even if he decided to regret it after the abuse and loss. Moving on, there are so many people that could have been listed here that he betrayed, my brother and sister, our grandparents, even those who I’ve met afterwards and helped me with those things of abuse that so often felt like in some degree, felt to still be happening. I am so grateful to have all those people, words simply cannot express my feelings. I will need them all as there are times it feels like I’m back there in the past.

I am not saying all things are fixed, come thee, all things are whole, that would be kind of silly. Things are better, sometimes they go forwards at other times they go backwards, but still they move. If I or anyone can keep moving, it must tell us that we are still fighting for ourselves, and I hope everyone has at least someone who will help them in that fight. I would write more but I think I would rather leave you with some words from ‘Veronika Decides to Die’ as a positive challenge to us both:

"Everything tells me that I am about to make a wrong decision, but making mistakes is just part of life. What does the world want of me? Does it want me to take no risks, to go back where I came from because I didn’t have the courage to say, ‘yes’ to life?"  - Paulo Coelho

It's a reminder that taking risks and embracing new experiences are essential parts of personal growth (growing up), even in our darkest times, even at our worst times. If you have never read the book, you should it is beautiful and after you do and cannot find that quote in it, try not to be mad. It is not in there rather it’s from ‘Eleven Minutes’ but read Veronika’s story instead, it is worth it. It has taken me months to write this, a lot of thought and changing my mind but here it is, the best that I can do, and I hope it explains things if only to myself.  With my love,

Ame

Post-Script: A stern look as a warning and a bite as a lesson.  

City after the rain

Dutch East India Company

These paint by numbers help keep me sane, I am almost near the end of my first year of physics 😊

The defences of a castle

Welcome to Pembroke Castle in South Wales and this short history. In 1189, the daughter of Richard Strongbow, Isabel married William Marshell, and this started the change of Pembroke’s timber palisades to a castle of stone. A castle that would share elements found across the empires of Europe. God forbid Isabel herself could not have been the master of Pembroke, but William was the model of mediaeval chivalry, was wealthy, and most importantly held the favour of the King John of England. William arrived in 1204 despite being given the title of Earl of Pembroke and Stiguil in 1199. He had spent years having fun with the French in Normandy, but when he did turn up, he brought an army with him. The Anglo-Normans had been having trouble with the locals. In particular, Prince Rhys ap Gruffydd had taken back large parts of his own country and the King was not happy about it. So, Pembroke successful timber castle became the site of a stone one that would [almost] never fail and would be a centre of control not only Wales but also Ireland. Leaving politics aside, let’s go through how this castle was a success.

Location is almost always everything; to the north is the Pembroke River, with the west being wetlands at least at the time. Placed on a peninsula or a cliff today meant the castle could be built high, the river which would not only protect but also could be used for the transport of food, water, and other goods under a siege. [02] Do not be fooled by the rain and wind of Wales; I got sunburnt on the day these photos were taken as soon as some blue entered the sky. Any who this meant that the castle was naturally well placed; to enter the peninsula, you could go through the wetlands, but an army would have trouble getting through, especially if the castle occupants decided to send some arrows your way. Today it’s just a very long way down.

This left one way to reach the castle gates a road steep road, steeper than the one today, but this would be under the watchful eye of those in the towers. The wall tower, as you can see on the left of the photo, offered a vantage point for observation and provided strong, high positions for archers to change the minds of those coming up the road. Most of these towers at Pembroke had another purpose; they were lodging towers as well; although not as impressive as those at Warwick Castle, they provided a place to store things while also helping with the domestic duties of the castle.

Margaret Beaufort was said to have a house on the grounds of the castle. However, it is likely that, under the then master of the castle and family protector of Jasper Tudor, she would have sought safety in one of the lodging towers. The reason she decided to give birth in the tower rather than the house was that the tower could be protected by men loyal to Jasper. She gave birth in 1457 to Henry Tudor, later Henry VII, while wanting to make sure the future king was protected during a lethal period of English history referred to as the War of the Roses, a period when Margaret Beaufort was paranoid with good reason. Henry’s murder would have changed the course of history, but Pembroke Castle did its job and protected them both.

The outer ward defences were begun by William de Valence around 1258. Just to the right of the photo is a three-story gatehouse, which consisted of two pairs of doors, two portcullises, and some other things to protect the castle. William de Valence later added another gatehouse in front of the main one. Alongside the main gatehouse, a chain of the towers that we talked about above connected with the walls. There were also two sallyports, allowing some of the garrisoned fighting force to sneak out and cause trouble in the attacking army.

Once you get to the first outer gatehouse pictured below, you’re facing the first portcullises and door. The easiest way to get through them would be by using a ram, but doing so would mean that once again there would be no cover from arrows and other missiles that would have been thrown from above. Anyone, no matter how motivated, would be very grumpy at this point. After some work, you might get through both the portcullises and door, then you would find another problem. The main gatehouse was at a 90-degree angle; the first gate forced the attackers into a very tight right-angle turn. Imagine having men all trying to make that turn, still under attack, with no ability to turn their ram to attack the main gatehouse.

On turning they would find themselves outside the main gatehouse; this has two sets of doors and two portcullises, but that is not the only thing it has. There are many gaps in the inner wall of the gatehouse; one of these would have been where the pivoted bar was located, a wooden bar that would go into the grooves cut into the walls, making it difficult to force it open. However, William de Valences had additional plans to finally dissuade you from your attack on the castle.

Below is a photo that shows us how much defence was based around the gatehouse. To the right of 1 is where the portcullis would be; typically, these would be made of wood in a grill pattern. They were pointed and clad in iron; the reason they would only be clad in iron is that they had to be raised and lowered using a pulley system, and iron is very heavy. These were roughly the same portcullis that the Romans had used and were effective being set into the stone walls again for extra strength. Behind this is 4 the door. Between them, you have 2 (above) the murder hole and 3 (on the side) the poking hole. A murder hole is simply an opening above the gateway so that the defenders could throw stuff onto the attackers. The stuff you throw or pour down is stuff you happen to have; rather than oil and tar, which were expensive, one of the most common things to pour is wee. That’s right, you most likely can get a hold of wee, so you heated it up and poured it down. I am not sure when or how you would collect it, but hopefully they got people to have a wee on the day rather than storing it… Eeeww! The other thing here in Pembroke you have is a limestone cliff, so they would get that heat it up and then it would have found its way on to the attackers. The poking hole would be used as it suggests: you get something, a spear, and you poke the attackers. First would most likely throw down the heated limestone, which would explode and get stuck in the chainmail, then they would be covered with the ale consumed the night before, to finally be poked at the sides.

Every castle needs a Donjon or a keep; this is one of the first things William Marshel started to build, long before the gatehouse. The first example of a cylindrical keep is at Château de Fréteval in France, which was built in the 11th century [most people think]. slightly later, the first keep of this type in England was built at New Buckenham Castle around 1140-ish, and then at the end of the 12th century at Pembroke. William Marshel was an Anglo-Norman, so he might have called it a Donjon rather than a Keep, but it served the same purpose; the cylindrical structure gave it more strength, and it helped deflect missiles. These Keeps followed the same rules: the ground floor was the entrance and acted as a store and often had a well for water; the first floor was a single chamber with a fireplace where perhaps the kitchen and poor people lived; and the third floor was the fancy chamber where the nobles lived. Finally, the roof was a watch tower and formed a defence.

To the left is the Keep, and on the right is the dungeon tower.

In Pembroke the Keep, there were at least 100 steps to the top, and none of them were level. Trust me, I was holding on for dear life because my balance is very bad and falling would have really hurt. Pembroke’s keep followed that at Château de Coucy with two exceptions: it had an extra floor (if I counted correctly), and the balconies seemed a lot lower. Perhaps the later addition of the gatehouses, curtain walls, and wall towers made the Keep more of a place of luxury, requiring an addition fancy floor and more views. Most of the later Keeps were not really built for defence but rather ways to slow off because if the attacking army got to your keep, then you would be in trouble despite them being capable of holding them off with the entryway with a portcullis and double doors. One important thing is missing in Pembroke Keep, and that is a well, and that would become a very big problem in the in the 17th century, although perhaps one we cannot blame William Marshel for as he died more than 400 years before his castle failed. 

 
The inside of the Keep.

Castles had many other elements for daily life; the first is that of a good dungeon. The Middle Ages was a place where wealth was important and if you were brave enough possible to get it, which is perhaps true today. The method I like the best was you would kidnap the Earl’s/Lord’s oldest son hoping you would not get killed, then ransom him back to his family, then you would ransom his sword, then his chainmail, then his gambeson and so on until you got to his socks (I assume). The dungeon was never really for the common people, me included we would be dealt with in the town, leaving the dungeon for people with one important thing: land. If you wanted someone’s land, you would ask the landowners to give it to you; if he said no, you would be asked again, and if he said no again, that was it. The dungeon was not there to convince him further; it was a place for him to be forgotten about. Once he was in there, typically that really was it, he’s fate was sealed, but he would die knowing that most likely his lands would not get into the hands of his captors unless the King really did not like him. Normally the inheriting son would be left alone, as any further attempt was seen as undermining the King’s justice, making him appear weak. *It could have been a Queen, but permission would be less likely to be given in the first place.

Another feature or must have according to the times is a chapel, this chapel does have a window although it does not point east, which is uncommon, and I assume the altar part that is missing would be by the window itself. It also does not have an oratory raised above where the lord and lady would have private service, which typically would be a common feature, such as found in Beverston Castle (England) chapel. Although this summer I also visited Clifford's Tower, the Keep in York castle which has a chapel within it for ‘noble people’, so perhaps in Pembroke it also had a chapel area within the Keep for the lord and lady (formally known as a Great Tower Chapel rather than a Keep but not uniformly so). One thing you would not find in a chapel or church during the Middle Ages is seating. You were expected to stand, and later the invention of uncomfortable seating served to make people feel grumpy and keep them awake. Happily, I’ve always found a way to fall asleep, albeit uncomfortable.


Three other interesting buildings are picture below at A: This is the solar tower, with the upper floors receiving more sunlight. These are self-contained buildings used as residential building rather than being there for defence. To have a Keep and a Solar Tower was to express wealth and show off, but it was either used by the lord or for his guests. considering Pembroke was closely linked with royalty, it makes sense. The Solar Tower was added to by both William de Valence and Jasper Tudor. B: The great hall, perhaps the oldest building likely, was built by Richard Strongbow around 1160ish; it was mostly used for storage and a kitchen on the ground floor, and a house on the first floor. C: This is the most interesting building, because in part it helped bring down the castle. The house was built by de Valence, featuring a two-story building, the lower floor housing kitchens and the upper floor a place of luxury with views over the river.

There is a staircase that takes you down to a nature cave called ‘The Wogan’. The cave has been used for many generations, and evidence goes as far back as the ice age. However, for de Valence, it formed a part of the Watergate built across the mouth of the cave, allowing easy access to the river, and the cave was used to store the boats, and some rumours suggest it was a store for two very important items, cheese and wine. Although the water gates were common, they could not really be used by the enemy; running up a staircase in full armour was less than practical. Rather, they were sneaky; it was another form of a sallyport; under siege, the defenders could sneak off to gather information, collect supplies, communicate with allies, and otherwise cause mischief.

In 1642, tensions were very high; talk of an English republic had gone from whispers to all-out shouts and end was near for King Charles I of the House of Stuart. He later surrendered to Scottish forces only later in a January afternoon to be executed, in London. That is a different and bloodier story for another time; however, when war did break out, castles fell to the side, which occupied them at the time. Wales was royalist, and the major John Poyer took measures to strengthen the south walls of the castle. Castles could easily withstand cannon fire provided the walls were thick enough to do so and the earthworks were in good enough condition. Donnington Castle also fell to the royalists at the start, and it managed to repel the parliamentary army (with a lot of luck added), with the siege lasting 20 months. Pembroke was sieged in 1644, and it held; the parliamentary were refused the victory, and the first civil war ended.

Later in 1648, discontent was stirred up, and the second civil war began. This time one of the infamous British figures was sent, Oliver Cromwell, then only a Lieutenant-General but would later become Lord Protector. On 24th May, he and six thousand men arrived at the east of Pembroke; a much smaller group of parliamentary troops had held ground to the west. Cromwell quickly made camp to the south; naval guns were brought ashore and placed across to the west firing directly towards the castle; additional guns were placed to the south outside of Cromwell’s camp. One 4th June storming parties attempted to climb the town walls and failed; the following day, defenders sally outed (remember the sallyports) to give Cromwell’s men a good telling off but were beating back. On 13th June, two more guns were placed across the river to the north, two days later, a blast broke through the town walls, leading to battles in the streets of Pembroke, but still the castle held.  The besiegers, Cromwell’s men, set fire to houses in the town; more men reinforced the parliamentary army; and the town burnt for two days. It was not a polite affair; the locals were not spared; in other places the royalist strongholds were starting to fail; the royalist commander in Wales, Rowland Laugharne, alongside Rice Powell and John Poyer, were condemned to death by Cromwell while still being sieged.

On 28th of June 1648 Cromwell (allegedly it was his idea) brought in heavy siege guns which sailed up the river and fired directly right up close and personal from those ships onto de Valence north walls. Those walls had not been reinforced, the water gate, the cheese, the wine and most importantly the river which supplied drinking water were bombarded, Pembroke did not have a well in its keep and parliamentary forces denied the royalist in the castle the water, then food and then as the cannons kept firing they lost all hope. On 11th July the royalists’ defenders surrendered, the castle after more than 400 years had failed in a spectacular fashion. Cromwell was so angry at the royalists, he decreed that all Pembroke’s defences were to be destroyed, a charge of gunpowder were placed at each of the towers and Pembroke castle was blown to the heavens! Ok… I might have got a little carried away but like so many castles Pembroke had outgrown its useless and its ability to defend and was left in ruins. It was only 280 years later work started to restore the castle and with its immense history I am happy they did. An interesting side note: Cromwell’s order condemning Rowland Laugharne, Rice Powell and John Poyer to death was rescinded, they did however, draw lots and it was John Poyer that lost. In April 1649, John Poyer, successful royalists’ defender of Pembroke during first civil war shot at Covent Garden, when the crown was restored his wife, Elizabeth was given a pension £300 a year about €100.000 today.  History is very imprecise but also very interesting and often violent!

Inside the cave, 'The Wogan' missing the cheese and wine.

How animal farm started

After some time, Henry demanded a portrait of himself, and I think that is just the start! (He is a little dirty because he gets taken everywhere)

All Hail Henry, HOORAAR