There’s nothing so cruel as memory

*Person Musings*

 

As a child, my first experience of being humiliated and disillusioned was a painful experience at Sir Jonathan North. I was deeply passionate about history, I wanted to study history and either be a historian, librarian or work in a museum. That was my goal, my fascination with ancient cultures… Especially the Romans, meant that I had collected a fine display of Roman pottery and coins. When we covered this era in history class, I was beyond excited and chose to take my collection to class to share in a ‘show and tell’…

Well that was a disaster, my class ‘friends’ mocked my collection… Calling the whole thing a waste of time and boring etc…
My bubble was burst, I was disheartened and at that point neglected my life goals, feeling humiliation and bullied…

My passion became a dirty secret, I lost a lot of the pottery (because it reminded me of being bullied) but somewhere in my heart the ancient Romans refused to let go of my interest…

So when the chance arose to visit the dig site in Leicester last weekend, I couldn’t resist, waiting an hour in drizzle and cold with hundreds of others, for a glimpse of Roman Leicester awoken some of my passion, but also a fair deal of humiliation.

However it has thrown into light an interesting concept in my mind, how one painful experience changed the whole direction of my life, because I was bullied for something I loved… Had I not took comments so personally, had I shrugged off such negative attitudes, would I have never been bullied for so long?

Had I just ignored them, would I have followed my dream, fulfilled my goals and become an academic? How different could my life had been had I reacted differently to one singular event?

 

Anne Harrison 15.05.17

The Two Year Gap

So… I found something I posted from 2014,  which I have already shared with you all recently…

Wow! I have changed, or at least I feel as though I have changed… I read through my old words and I see the old me as I was, tubby,  insecure,  anxious,  fragile,  dependent…

I still have issues with anxiety,  but I have developed independently enough to understand that the ‘what if’ situations I play inside my head are all figments of an over active imagination.

2016 has not been kind to me and my family, but I strongly believe the old me, the one who wrote those words,  would have struggled with all this shit…
Trust me,  it is a struggle,  but I know I need to be strong for others now and not my old selfish insecurities… Me, me, me…I, I, I… Can you really escape that personal torment and focus on others…  Was I really that unbearable?

I realise that what I wrote was so close to the point where everything changed,  that I really was on the path to where I am now… I also know I still have a way to go yet.

I have come so far in two short years…  That I’m looking forward to next Monday!!

 

Love Anne 02.11.16

Pop Art

Tumbling down the Tumblr hole and finding you’re not as strong as you think you are…

 

i saw an image today
i watched - it did not move
just a lone image upon a screen
one of many - but single to me
despite all horror and gore
the made up shit that is nothing more
sometimes reality leaps back
and turns your stomach inside out
memories you would rather forget
scenes which question strength
pain wrapped up in stitches
tears stain the bathroom floor
i click - close the page - open anew
and write
words flowing freely as my tummy tumbles
feeling emotional
without the strength to cry

 

Anne Harrison 07.10.16

Awakening Memories

Reading through carolinecuttingblog recently and I had this weird moment of déjà vu, her recent post Stories and Histories triggered memories of my own experience at Braunstone Hall in Leicester and after commenting, mentioning this fact, I have put together a little tale of what happened one warm July night back in 2003…

***

For a brief time I was actively involved with a local paranormal investigation group, until it folded. Most vigils were uneventful, cold sleepy nights with nothing to report. Yet others stand out above the rest. I think the investigation which made the biggest impact on me was Braunstone Hall, Leicester. The Hall was later converted into a public school in the 1930’s.

From the exterior the building instantly made my flesh crawl as a strange déjà vu feeling set in. Inside the sensation only grew stronger and I found myself aware of locations such as dining hall, kitchen, changing rooms etc before even exploring the whole hall or referring to a map. So I was already feeling a nervous anticipation before the investigation had actually started.

However the majority of the activity that night took place in and around the area of the Headmasters study. I was with a good friend a very gifted and emphatic psychic (Who I will refer to as ‘D’ to be polite). He had already warned me of the ‘Grumpy Gent’ spirit, that he had encountered upon an earlier vigil at the hall, who roamed the school especially near the location of the study. As soon as I entered the location I felt a cold dread, the area was devoid of any heat, as our instruments also confirmed a sudden and drastic drop in temperature. We could see our breath in the air, thought his was a mild July night. It also felt difficult to breathe, the atmosphere thick and heavy.

‘D’ was instantly aware of the ‘Grumpy Gent’ who ranted at my companion and physically shoved him off his feet. However it was not the gentleman I picked up on, it was the Children’s fear, not the spirit of any children but their emotions. Fear, dread, anxiety, panic, desperation, depression, hopelessness and pain all this powerful cocktail of negative emotions had left an imprint upon the very soul of the property, and the ‘Grumpy Gent’ remained there, still feeding off this negative energy made me feel even more uncomfortable, reducing me to tears. ‘D’ helped me away from the area as I was so distressed and to this date this has been the most powerful experience or reaction I have encountered of a haunting.

Though it wasn’t until some months later, that the subject of schools came into conversation among friends. It turned out that one of my companions had attended Braunstone Hall as a child. She went on to tell us about an infamous Head Master, whose punishments were cruel, sadistic and twisted. From physical punishments, such as cane, ruler or belt to more mental cruelty, locking children in cupboards or empty class rooms. Not allowing them any food or water and other degrading acts of humiliation, which I prefer not to recall. My blood ran cold as she recounted events which mirrored the sensations I had experienced at my night there a morbid conformation of one man’s savage cruelty that still resonates upon the property.

***

Hall Notes Only ← Spooky Photos ← Basic Information ← Scruffy Handwriting

→ Apologies, original source for ‘Basic Information’ has been lost over time…

***

Anne Harrison 20.07.16