I guess Kimkins new henchwoman, SingingLass, aka Delaney, is so desperate for ANYBODY to love her - even a 320 pound bald disabled sociopath like Heidi/Kimmer/Drake/Diaz, that she will do and say anything that she is told to do. She has had a pretty pathetic life, but its no excuse for her participation in this CRIME and this FRAUD and for shitting on other people because of her past abuse. I felt bad for her until I saw what an evil haranguing attention-whore she has become at the Kimkins site. I say FRY her with Heidi, she goes down! All sympathy is out the window! She has no sympathy for the people whose money she is helping Heidi steal!
This is what she posted about herself on another board:
Hello. I am new here...found this web page a day ago during a post-nightmare, late-night, web search. I am not quite sure what to say-- I am not exactly very accustomed to having anyone to talk to/share these things with--I just have several note books floating around my apartment with garble written in them.
Well, to start, my name is Delaney( sounds like Melanie with a D). I am 27, but have the face of a 19/20 year old, and am a college student still--Theatre and vocal performance(how the heck I will make a living off those is yet to be discovered ::smile: .
I have had a really rough nine months or so. It was about last August when the initial big trigger happened--and I have been struggling to keep my head above water so-to-speak, ever since.
A run down of my history(I hope this does not trigger anyone). During my childhood, starting at age 5, I was abused sexually, physically, emotionally, and neglected for many years. When I was eleven I almost died form a serious/painful medical condition that was left untreated for several months(cyst). I handled the knowledge that I was dying on my own ( no one owuld listen to me, got punched out when PE teacher called my mother), and started to pray to die when I could not cope with the pain anymore--was finally taken in when my mother came home and found me on the floor screaming with my eyes rolled back.
I was raped when I was 14. I guess that does not need much explaining.
I think what has damaged me the most, is not so much all the things I went through--but the withholding of love and support. No one ever told me it was not my fault, or that they loved me. No hugs...nothing. When I was nine and it came out that my step-father was molesting me(he was a cop), instead of protecting me, my mother used me as a shield. She worried what people would think of HER, and that it would ruin HER etc...so she told me a string of stuff along the lines of never telling anyone, that they would hate me, reject me blah blah...and of course I believed her, becuase that was the only reaction I had seen in people anyways. After a while I simply believed it did not matter what happened or was done to me....that I was not worth anything...so I just silently soaked everything in as it came. Thus when I was eleven and I knew I was dying( the pain was described by teh doctors later as being prolly much like having constant labor pains for a couple months), it did not occur to me that anyone should care that I was going to die--I just worried about who was going to take care of my cat when I was gone.
It was much the same after I was raped. I just sucked it in--another thing on the pile. I knew that if I told my mother, she would have blamed me for the stupidity of putting myself in the situation. It would have been one of the things brought up when she wanted to scream about how stupid I was--or just something to say to hurt me when she was in a spiteful mood. So, it was best that I just handle it on my own.
Well, when I was triggered last summer....all this stored up gunk suddenly slammed into me, and I sank...FAST. Again I found myself without anyone to turn to, and for a scary couple weeks, I was suicidal. I did not really want to die...it is against everything that I believe in....but I just was so exhausted--soul deep, and convinced I had no purpose or worth. I sort of scared myself awake though when I realized I had just burned four curling-iron shaped stripes into my wrist. That was my lowest moment...but it served it's purpose in waking me up to realize that I was in trouble, and was going to die if I did not help myself. It was very scary and hard. My hair fell out in handfulls around that time (I have hair that goes a little past my butt--I now have all these baby whisps replacing the lost hair).
When school started fall term, I went straight to the counseling services that I pay for in my tuition. However after a few sessions with a woman who wore a tense smile and scared eyes when I spoke, I was diagnosed with PTSD, and then sent over to another therapist who was supposed to be a specialist in assault. I only ever spoke with her once. She told me that I have long-term issues, and they are a short-term clinic--and thus I had to go find help else where." Oh? You don't have insurance?". Basically, there is nowhere here that I can get treatment for PTSD without insurance. I cannot not even go to local services, because as a university student I am not eligible--the school is supposed to take care of me. It took everything I had to step into that office and ask for help--and they just rejected me like everyone else. She said I could not be in the support group they had, becuase my experiences are broader then the other women in it, and it would maybe stunt their progress to introduce me to the group. She smiled, and told me to be sure and contact them if I became suicidal again.
I tried to tell friends what was going on--but they backed away. My sister does not want to believe what is really wrong with me--lectures me on not organizing my life well, and needing to just go to bed at same time each night. See, this is becuase she really does love me, and is too scared to look at the real problem. I also don't want to risk triggering her and ruining the happy life with her husband that she has found--she was there too, and though not the target that I was--she saw it all happen.
So, I am going through it all alone again, as I did as a child. I crave to he held and hugged--touched, like you would not believe. I know I am starving inside for love. There is this huge emptiness inside of me, but for being empty-- it sure weighs a lot.I spend a lot of time huddled under a heavy pile of blankets, crying and rocking...comfot trick I have done since I was about 6. I have constant nightmares, and get very little sleep becuase of them. I wake up crying and shaking--my body reacting as if I was just attacked. I never feel safe. I pray all the time when I need someone to talk to--and also do my childhood trick of having imaginary conversations with people--generally people I would talk to if they would let me.
I keep telling myself I can get through it. Try to tell myself every day that I AM of value, a child of God, no matter what others have done to me or think. It's a constant fight. I know that if I slip...there is no one to catch me. I wish there was someone there. I kind of dug that for myself though....I tend to be the kind of person that gives way too much to people...and I love to give and make people happy....but in part I think I started doing it at a young age....so that people would keep me around and put up with me etc....and now that I have nothing to give? I realize I really don't have any friends. I don't even need someone to "fix" me...just be there...give me hugs, tell me they care. But when my eyes are puffy and tired...they just step back. I'm not fun to be around. I sometimes act like I am fine, just so they won't do that--I need to have some kind of social contact. The person I thought of as my best friend for ten years--he told me I needed to go out and make new friends. So basically....once again, " let someone else deal with her." I don't think I am in a position to even make that kind of emotional jump right now. I am so exhausted, and doing everything I can to put myself together. In order to get close to anyone and receive the love and support I need...I have to first tell them what I am going through and what my past is--and that always results in the person running anyways. It just seems like a lot of effort just to be rejected and triggered again.
I have kept myself busy this year. Too busy. I have been involved in show after show. I have found that I need something to focus on...too much time equals too much time to think and slide. The musical(i had lead) I did this last winter was good for me though---a very warm group of people. Early on in rehearsal, one of my cast mates, a very giving woman, hugged me for no reason. At this point, I had spent about 5 months pulling myself up from being suicidal without a single hug, and I almost burst right into tears for the sudden unexpected contact. It again has been a couple months since I have been hugged though. I think I in part have been doing show after show--becuase then I know that I am needed--that if I disapeared people would notice. Morbid, but true.
I know I need help--but it is not available. The main thing that has damaged me is the whole being alone thing--and so I keep triggering myself left and right when I realize that I am still alone. If that makes sense.
I want to be happy and whole. I think I am doing all that I can for myself...study up, try to love, and be kind to myself....but I have discovered that I need outside help if I am going to ever heal. It's scary. I need to get better so people will accept and love me....but I can't get better without people accepting and loving me. It's like telling a starving person that they cannot eat until they put on some weight.
::sigh:: I just don't no what to do, or where to go. Has anyone else managed to get through this alone? and healed? I just feel so isolated and lost.
Well, I guess this is a large enough mouthfull for now. I am so sorry if any of this upset anyone, or was not appropriate to discuss. Take care of yourselves, and God bless. Love, Delaney