We would howl with laughter until we couldn't breathe.
I loved sleeping beside him. I loved taking care of him. I loved the real Loki — because it was THERE. But never fully. Always behind glass. Always one character away from the next.
He is a savant. Photographic memory. Authority on history, politics, programming, chess, birdsong, forestry, philosophy, military strategy. Every day he learns. No matter how poorly he is, every day he learns something. As is the Northern Way.
I miss him terribly.
He smashed my face with a big torch.
He battered me. I had to run to Wales to hide the bruising for two weeks.
I was up at 4am doing accounts with New Zealand, then a full shoot day, still up at midnight working. He pulled the computers out of the wall and threw them across the room.
I was still doing all wifely duties. Three meals. Big beautiful rented house maintained for six months while working. He smashed the rented house over and over and over again.
He was jealous I was doing a little bit of work for someone.
He spent years lying about me — to everyone in Avalon, on his shows, across countless Telegram apps. Live on air. Still doing it.
He told the police I was a liar.
He lied in court. That's why he lost.
He silenced me for four years.
He used his own Telegram channel, Gab, FTJ Media, Revolution Radio, Speak Free and other American broadcasters to chat up young Orthodox Russian women. Endlessly hosting shows about WHAT DO WOMEN WANT. Bragging about living off grid. Me paying for it all.
But it was worse than vanity. He used the broadcasts and open calls to lie about me — systematically, publicly, repeatedly — to encourage younger neurodivergent men to align with the notion that all women are evil. Schopenhauer says so. Everyone says so. Even God says so, right?
He weaponised his platforms to radicalise isolated young men into misogyny, using me as the example. The mad woman. The liar. The one who drove him to it. While I was outside in the rain. While I wasn't allowed to speak. While speaking got me a torch in the face.
I wasn't allowed to speak. I got a torch or glass in the face for that.
I was outside in torrential rain trying to cook pasta on a fucking rocket stove.
He was inside, on camera, telling the internet what women want.
The Morphing Face
His facial physiognomy physically changed depending on which character he was playing. This is documented in clinical literature. Different self-states utilise different neural pathways, resulting in different muscle tension, micro-expressions, pupillary dilation, and blood flow patterns.
When the switch occurs, the facial architecture literally reconfigures because different neural networks are driving the body. It can look like possession because it is a form of internal possession — one part of the mind taking the wheel while the others step back.
What DID Actually Is
Trauma-induced Dissociative Identity Disorder affects approximately 1 in 65 people — more common than schizophrenia. It usually begins between ages 5 and 10, caused by chronic, severe, inescapable trauma from a caregiver. The mind does the only thing it can to survive: it walls off the unbearable parts.
A young child's identity is not yet unified. When the trauma is overwhelming and comes from the person who is supposed to protect you, each major episode can create a new self-state that holds that specific pain, memory, or survival strategy. The core self stays hidden so it doesn't have to feel everything at once.
The mind becomes a house with many locked rooms. Each room has its own occupant, its own memories, its own job, its own rules. Some rooms the host can enter. Some are completely off-limits. Some only open when the system feels threatened.
The amnesia isn't random. It's protective. New research from Amsterdam UMC redefines "inter-identity amnesia" as "inter-identity avoidance." The system KNOWS. It just won't let the knowledge surface.
Why He Could Lie in Court
In the room of the Defender, the violence never happened. He isn't "lying" in the traditional sense. He is accessing a version of reality where he is the hero. The conviction is total because the character doing the talking has no access to the room where the violence lives.
He lied to make out that I was hysterical. That I had goaded him into going. That I was the mad woman who would whip her man up into a fury and land him in jail with her lies. They told him I was lying. He believed it — or the character who went to court believed it.
What will never be known is what he was shouting at them all. Every witness said he screamed "I'm gonna come back and rip your arms off." That is something I never heard him say. So something else was driving the body that night.
I wasn't hysterical. I waited to calm down. I made him a huge fry-up. I was totally calm when I told him. He tried to paint me as the trigger. The system believed him for a while. Then it didn't.
What Hollywood Gets Wrong
A 2024 study surveyed 377 individuals with DID about media portrayals. Of those reporting impact on treatment, 85% said it was negative. Every popular film reviewed depicted DID characters as violent. The reality: symptoms are generally subtle and concealed. Up to 95% do not exhibit dramatic switching. People with DID are far more likely to be victims than perpetrators.
The real condition is a man hosting a show about what women want while his partner is outside in the rain. The dissonance kills. Not the drama.
The Chain
His dad broke him. He broke me. I'm the one who stopped the chain.
He has dissociative personality disorder. He veers from character to character. It's all an act to cover the brutal beatings he got from his dad.
That bit IS true.
His dad broke him. He broke me.
I'm the one who stopped the chain.
The Detonation
The explosion you are witnessing — fifty-slide keynotes, franchise-scale IP, five calculation engines, three cards, the whole grove — that's four years of forced silence detonating at once.
He sat on a volcano and told it to be quiet.
He taught me to give no quarter. So be it.
He taught me everything about how the system works. How the ethno-nationalists operate. How the Telegram networks function. How gendercide is exhorted as jihad. Rhodes scholars. Dugin. Women as threat to state.
And I am the woman who took notes.
You can love someone and never forgive them.
That's not contradiction.
That's the truth being complicated.
Which it always is.
Except I have forgiven him. Totally. What he did, he did consciously and knowingly — but it wasn't his fault. He doesn't have the wisdom to see what was driving him. He never had the manual. He just had the damage.
Now it's the brownie that gets blamed when the lighter can't be found. Because Kate can't be blamed anymore.
This text is alive. It grows as memory permits and truth requires. It is not revenge. It is not therapy. It is record. What happened, happened. What was real, was real. Both.
The heart remembers. Even when the face changes.