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When I first approached, someone I thought it to be more in my interests not to make an issue over this “on-going memory recall” because I had a feeling they would lose interest or say, “Come back when you’re fully remembered.” I may indeed have a much fuller story later on in my life but I think the time to break this news was the time after my Interactors had given me the capacity to do so, the time after their abandonment. Even then, this capacity I speak of had its drawbacks. I remembered things and I could write about them but for most of my life my mind had been influenced by an invisible mechanism that governed my thoughts and before these beings departed, they took that with them. I had to learn to manage my mind without control and, like everything else, if you’ve been used to crutches it will feel strange walking without them. I had been offered new perimeters in my mind, but I found exploring them to be taxing task. Writing my story from a slow blooming memory left me unaccountably exhausted but I found the completion of this self-appointed goal delightful. I was a new person because revelations had been made to me. Maybe I wasn’t who I thought I was but I had been left to explore a new identity and sometimes that could be a draining experience. Lifelong interests had to be replaced because of these revelations, which perhaps was more educating than taxing. It would seem that I had lost my fascination for stage magic simply because the science behind it had at last been revealed. My childhood figments of wizards and “magic monks” were now replaced by alien beings because it seemed that they were my life’s true illusionists. Even with the bombshell of new knowledge, life had to go on. I felt like a patient awaiting the results of a strange new diagnosis and that its verdict wouldn’t really be known until years later. The limbo state that all this had left me in meant I was too exhausted from interaction and its realisation to care. This had taken its toll on my health and everyday life and it was shocking to learn how long it was since I had actually worked. A doctor had long ago advised me to apply for health benefits after diagnosing me with a rare depressive illness related to M.E. That diagnosis was an educated shot in the dark considering he didn’t know a thing about my experiences. With everything in mind and nothing to move on to I decided it was time for a change of lifestyle or maybe a long holiday somewhere. An opportunity had arisen for me to go abroad and learn a language if I wanted and I honestly couldn’t think of a reason why not. The place where the opening had been offered was in Rome Italy on a 12 week language course to learn the lingo and spend some time around the country. It was a marvellous 123