Screaming Banshees

banshee1The Worst Type Ever

People keep going over things and live in the Summer of 2007 and the days of the Amaral investigation and refuse to move on.  Some people are so convinced those days are the truth that they refuse to accept what is written in the Police Files, what is written in the files is fact and it is definitely not hearsay, innuendo or assumptions.

It is evident that the files held by Kate and Gerry McCann contain far more information than what is available and widely circulated on the internet.  Kate and Gerry McCann paid £100,000 out of the fund to have those files translated by professional translators. 

A company was paid a sum of money and did their job, they were translating those files in a professional manner and without opinion.

What they translated, they knew if incorrect would tarnish their company’s reputation forever and could lead to people refusing to use their translation services in the future.  There was no “them being on the side of Kate and Gerry” or “being on the side of Goncalo Amaral and the PJ”.

What they produced for the McCann’s were accurate and precise translations.  So when Kate, in her book refers to those files, I believe her and I believe what she says is written in those added pages we don’t have access to – i.e. the accounts from the families of the children who were molested in their apartments by a man – is true.  A person who molested 5 children  whilst their parents slept in another room and who attempted to molest 3 other children but was disturbed before he could commit the act.

Now back to the screaming banshees, well cast your minds back to the Chilean interview Kate and Gerry McCann did late 2007, the one where Kate said this:

“It really isn’t easy,” coping. “Some days are better than others. … There’s days when you think, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ and you just want to press a button, and we’re all gone, and it’s all finished, and we’re all together and gone. Wherever. But you can’t, you know. Just occasionally you’ll have a — if you’re having a really bad day, which we do. And you can’t help but think that.”

I was one of those people that was acting like a screaming banshee shouting “See it is evident from that statement Kate knows Madeleine is dead.”  I for the life of me did not even contemplate back in those days there could be a completely different context to what Kate was Kate was saying.

But reading Kate McCann’s book, now gives me an insight to the fear, the dread, the panic, the pain and the heartbreak she is suffering.  How she felt she could not enjoy life any more. How she felt guilty if she watched a TV programme.  How she felt as if it was a sin to feel love and express love. And the true meaning of what she was saying.

When you read what Kate writes in her book, which by the way is well-written irrespective of what others say, you do get to know a little about Kate McCann, the person,  and understand the real pain she is suffering.  She speaks of the horrible images that are going through her mind, she tells the readers,

The thought of paedophiles makes me want to rip my skin off

Her words tell you candidly of a day, when she was so low and in so much pain, she says,

I remember slumping on one of the dining chairs in the apartment, looking out through the window over the sea.  I had an overwhelming urge to swm out across the ocean, as hard and as fast as I could; to swim and swim and swim until I was so far out and so exhausted I could just allow the water to pull me under and relieve me of this torment.

Any person that is living or has lived through a horrific ordeal will tell you the same, those feelings are natural, you want your pain to end and you hurt so much that you feel that death is the only way to release you from this pain.  It is not the signs that you are suicidal or even contemplating suicide it is just that you are living a nightmare and want it to end.

Kate then tells you:

I also felt a compulsion to run up to the top of the Rocha Negra. Somehow, inflicting physical pain on myself seemed to be the only possible way of escaping my internal pain.  The other truly awful manifestation of what I was feeling was a macabre slideshow of vivid pictures in my brain that taunted me relentlessly.  I was crying out that I could see Madeleine lying, cold and mottled, on a big grey stone slab.

Any parent that has a child missing will tell you the same, those emotions hit everyone who is living a nightmare of having a child missing.  They wish for the best and think of the worst. Nothing can take away those dark thoughts that invade their concious. Nothing stops those horrific thoughts from entering their mind, there is no locked door somewhere in your brain where they can put these thoughts behind and never have to think of them again.

No matter how much people tell you things will be ok, you just can’t help imagining the worst.

And being a screaming banshee whilst ignoring the facts and not knowing the full score is one of the worst things a person can ever be.  Believe me I know.

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