Children of Lightning

A traumagenic system called Lyn

I'm Ronja.

I have black and wildly unorganised hair, green eyes, and a bit tanner skin than the body. I'm 17 years old. I might need a hug, but hugs make me angry.

I've on a few occasions been wrongfully labeled the persecutor of the system - someone whose sole self-assigned or abuser-assigned purpose is harming the body or system. I'm not that. I'm more of a shipping container filled with nothing but anger. Not literally. I'm human. But I hold the anger the others can't handle; I'm the one who's angry at the abusers and who's angry at the governmental/public system for not stopping the abuse from happening. I can also get angry about a lot of other things. I tend to come off as a bitch and hurt people, so I'm not allowed to interact with people outside the system much. I'm fine with that. People tend to make me angry, anyway.

I have some views on things that I don't share with the others, that I internalised from where we grew up. Views that certain ways of being are bad. I don't mean to hurt people, but it's what we were taught, and I'm the one it stuck with. This is another reason why I'm normally not allowed to interact with other people.

Sometimes, when no one else is available to do the job, I function somewhat as a protector. Not on an emotional level, but purely on a physical "don't harm the body" level. It's because I think it's weak and dumb to harm the body, and because I'm angry at those who harmed the body and can't stand seeing it happen at our own hands. I've stopped many suicide attempts and sessions of self harm from happening. Usually a fully fledged protector will do the job, though. But it was my job while Silje was dormant ("asleep" in the headspace - not capable of interacting with others inside the head or fronting or anything else).

That's all I can think of to write right now. Bye.