Sitting down and writing about who I am and what has happened to me is actually the opposite of what I feel I should be doing. There is a strong urge to rebury the past I have discovered, but as a psychologist I know that giving in to that urge can be extremely harmful. And I need to have my wits for what I'm trying to do here.

When I arrived at Dead End I had forgotten most of my life. I had only awoken two days earlier and although my body had no injuries, it had a lot of scars from past injuries, telling me I had lots of reasons to suffer from amnesia. So I accepted this as a fact and didn't start digging into my past. Instead I took a job at Lulu's Bar and tried to make a new life for myself. But it wasn't going to be so simple.

A few days at my new job I had already made some friends and I actually enjoyed myself. I even flirted with a guy and thought we could have a good time. But it only brought misery. I experienced what is called an episode, in which a lot of repressed memories came back to me. It was horrible and for awhile I was quite out of my mind. Fortunately the man was a nice guy and he took care of me, bringing me back from my madness.

But not all guys are nice and friendly, as I experienced a day later. Some asshole thought I looked much prettier with my nose at the back of my head. This brought even more memories back and I cringed at what I saw. Apparently I had been a victim of long and extensive torture in my past and some of the images I got to see were very hard to deal with. It made my broken nose seem like a holiday at the beach. Worst thing was that I could no longer respond to anything happening around me while I was drowning in memories. If it wasn't for my two friends Pan and Lou, who chased the asshole away, I would have died there and then.

My friends helped me recover from that ordeal as well and for awhile everything turned for the better. Then Lulu's collapsed and I barely made it out in time. I literally saw my dreams of starting a new life fall apart in front of my eyes. What was I supposed to do now?

I talked with a lot of people and some things happened that brought a lot of my memories back. I rediscovered my old profession. Appparently I had been a young promising scientist, a neuropsychologist, who worked for the government. Hard to believe, but true. I was working in secret to find ways to alter the behavior of people with a deep urge to use violence. Working with criminals, rapists and murderers was a difficult thing to do, but I was young and certain of myself. Arrogant maybe. I even got my own project, called SynRosa, aiming at behavior modification of rapists in particular. But things went wrong. I couldn't remember how I ended up insde the complex, but I did figure out I kept missing a year of my life in memories and in that year I was somehow tortured and raped without end. I wanted to know why nobody got me out or saved me, so I called the Institute I had worked for. Only to find out to my astonishment that it had disappeared without a trace. So what happened? Did the experiment fail alltogether and they had to erase all trace of it?

In the mean time I met a girl called Shan, and she introduced me to Zim. Shan also made me experience love again and I discovered there were no memory relapses if I had sex with a girl. I should have sticked to that, but apparently the flesh is weak so I ended up with a guy again and this time it was not some nice guy at all. I got raped in a most terrible way while suffering from extensive memory relapses. Again I could do nothing to save myself, being caught in the backdraft of my psychosis. And again Pan and Lou were there to save me.

This time I awoke differently. I had been taken to the hospital and a lot of stuff came back to me now. My past became much sharper and I even seemed to remember some fo the circumstances under which I had been a prisoner. Yes, that's right, in that year I keep trying to repress so desperately, I had been a prisoner in the compound of my own experiment. But apparently the nature of the experiment had changed completely. The test subjects were no longer being taught by me how to deal with their anger issues, instead they were led on by some invisible force, maybe some other scientists, to use me in all sorts of ways and become extremely effective rape machines. I have no idea what they wanted with those guys. Maybe they let them loose on society, or maybe they were trained to be effective weapons in some warzone or something. But who ever used me was at some point done with it and I was set free to die or recover or whatever. I had been used and abandoned.

Not knowing who had used me in such a horrbile way is hard to deal with. But I'm even more in shock about my role in all of this. I feel guilty for being partly responsible for creating monsters. I know I never set out to do that and I even tried to rid the world of the criminally insane. But I missed my purpose completely and ended up having been tortured and also the knowledge that there are men out there with only one purpose in life: to rape and torture women. I had to do something about that and right now I knew of only one direction I could follow.

The aim of my life could no longer be the alteration of the behavior of rapists. I had tried that and it had backfired completely. Instead I would now focus on the victims. I would seek a way to help the girls who suffered like I had. So my new aim was to build a shelter, a place for women to come to and help them recover.

I worked for support for my new idea, by seeking out friends that would help me and by going to City Hall with this idea and even negotiate for a building. I had obtained some money from a very strange man, who was clearly dealing with bad stuff, but I took it anyway, not caring where it came from, only caring about what I would use it for. Ethics has always been a double edged sword.
I also went to the paper to tell some journalist about my plans and she poured it into an excellent article. My plans were going fine. And to keep my head above the water I started working in Zim's Gym to make some money, while I recovered from all my ordeals and experiences.

Yes, I seek absolution... a way to undo the wrong I was part of.