Another Conundrum Processing in Real Time

My handler's voice broke into my dreams last night to tell me she'd appreciate it if I quit eating red meat. My programming from 16 told me to question whether I should post the following image. Why? Get ready for major weirdness. Because some day I would do this blog. Some day I would start meeting other survivors. Some time I'd realize I might have met them before. And someone, somewhere would be very hurt and angry with me if I posted this image of a cow that describes the stuck point I feel I'm at currently. I guess if I lose a friend it is worth the price of not letting myself be silenced. 

I don't do what I do to hurt myself or others. I guess I am selfish to a degree to just run my mouth. I've always hoped to meet someone someday who might know who I am. Maybe compare notes and actually pursue legal justice.  But as I've said in past blogs sometimes being around other survivors can be triggering in ways we may not understand because we are still processing everything ourselves. Right now I feel like the order I'm remembering things in is creating an issue. What if I write down a memory that describes something another survivor also went through or something we may not know we went through together?

I've always said I try to keep things measured but I'm starting to feel that each new layer I feel confident in my awareness of leads me to do things that yank off yet another layer or start a fresh round of memory fragments I don't necessarily have the energy to deal with right now and I'm sure that happens for others as well. But I hate to think that talking about our experiences has the ability to cause that high of a price unintentionally. I'm continuing to meditate on this and hopefully will receive clarity.

It feels to me like God would say just let go and let whatever happens happens. I can't control someone else's past or their present reactions, only he can. And I don't want to do acrobatics like that because that would effectively make me someone's handler in a certain way. And I am nobody's handler. I can't even dribble a basketball properly.