I know, I know...

I know, I know, most of my writings are bleak....When I am happy or content, I have nothing to write about...I can't write...I am too happy....

When I am happy, I go places and do things, I am creative with my time and with others, I don't have time to sit and write...

When I am depressed or angry or hurting, I don't go anywhere, I don't see anyone, I isolate...writing keeps my isolation from becoming my tomb...

So, when I go for time without writing, that means I am in a good head space...so don't be alarmed...(as long as pictures are being posted)...

If I am writing, then I am keeping myself alive...the minute I stop writing about my sadness, or whatever, is the day I will die...

My depression and brain cancer, is my muse.....
..I take pictures in happiness and write in sadness...

So,  I also write how I am feeling "in the moment"...not how I feel "all the time"...I am an impulsive writer....I don't really think about what I am writing, it just pours out of my head and vomits all over the page....there is no clean up...

I just move on to the next day...

The Christmas nightmare

I knew Christmas and the holiday season was gonna be a bitch for me...and it was...

The plans that I had in my head to help ease the days, fell through..and fell through with a fucking thud....

Everything got scrambled...all the sudden I was having to shop for Santa, for a 6 yr old kid, on christmas eve....then to make matters fucking worse, I had to wrap all the gifts...

I did not want to do this, but I did it...and it was a goddamn fucking nightmare...the whole time I was shopping for a friends kid, I was thinking about shopping for my own grand kids, that are the same age as this kid...Here I was out shopping and doing something for somebody else family, while I fucking walked out on and deserted my own family....

I am such a fucking traitor and stupid excuse for a grandma...when I was done doing the Santa shop...I came home...I don't have much memories of what happened next, but I know I walked a very fine line between life and death....

Then my friend comes over with their kid for Christmas day to play with the toys I got for them from Santa...that was cruel and unusual punishment...I tried so hard to have a happy face, but inside I died a little...

Seeing this kid play, laugh etc...was a fucking knife to my heart, being jabbed over and over and over.. This kid was a constant reminder all day of how I have failed my family, failed my own grandsons, failed in my life...I am a complete and utter fucking failure...what makes matters worse, this kids parent knew how hard this was for me, but insisted on forcing me to have a "Christmas" day...that was mean...and hurt me even more...

The guilt I feel, I should be executed...I am guilty of abandoning my family...I am guilty of being the sorriest excuse for a mom and grandma ever to walk this earth..I am a fucking horrible piece of shit woman..I deserve to die...I am a traitor.

No right

I have no right, 
to be sad, I bring on my own sadness..

I have no right,
to miss my kids, my grandsons,  I left them...

I have no right,
to cry, crying is for humans, I am not human..

I have no right,
to even live, I destroy everything..

I have no right,
to love, or expect love.  I am unlovable..

I am a shell of a person,
I was born to be sad...
I was born to die...
I destroy all I touch...
I am filth...a nasty, dirty, filthy, pathetic, piece of shit trash...

a cold realization

So something dawned on me...a realization that hit me in the face like a blast of ice cold water...  I literally have nothing to live for.

I have raised my babies, they are all adults, with their own families..I was the dutiful wife for 34 yrs.  I did all the right things, I did everything expected of a woman..

Now, what?  Brain fuck, has killed that woman...I felt I had to get away, to be happy...I felt I needed to live my life now...I felt like I was gonna die if I stayed where I was, I was so fucking unhappy...But what is my life now?  NOTHING

So, I left my husband, my family, my home, my state, my dogs.  I went far away, to start over, to try and find happiness...

But there is no happiness...I have no goals, no friends, no hobby's, no purpose, I have nothing but one of my dogs and a new car.  I have only one friend, and that friend will walk away soon, as I will exhaust them and they will grow tired of my fucking brain shit as well...happiness is not in the cards for me, I was born unhappy...Have I ever been happy?  I don't think so...

I sit, day after day, alone...staring at the walls,  doing nothing, because I can't do anything..I can't get a job...I can't do volunteer work, not anymore, not with this stupid fuck brain that has ruined me.

The only future I had was maybe a book that I started with a friend, hoping that book might help other women in my shoes that have to deal with stupid fuck brains too..but that is no longer happening either...I mean, really, did I really think a book was gonna be anything productive?  It has turned into a huge burden for the friend who wanted to help write it....and I can't even help myself, much less anybody else..

I have nothing to contribute to society, there is nothing I can do to make the world better, nothing to make myself better...I am  offensive to most people...

So, I literally have nothing to live for...I just exist now...existing until my stupid fuck brain kills me...

The holiday season, thanksgiving, christmas, are stark reminders of the fucking non-life I have...

Really the only one thing I do have, is fuckability.   The ability to be fucked, used and abused...I am very good at that...but how does that help society?  I am a good slave,  I follow orders...but how does that help society?  I have a natural talent for being stupid, for trusting, when trust is not really a real thing...for being stupid enough to trust in anyone, much less myself...I fail...I try and make plans, to have some sort of future, but those plans never materialize, I am just left feeling hurt, betrayed and useless, unimportant...in the way...

Now I know, I am feeling sorry for myself, I know it was my decision to leave everything I have ever known, or use to know...I put myself in this situation...it is all my fault, I deserve to be fucking miserable...this is my penance for destroying everything and everyone around me...this is my HELL..

If I were a ship, I would be a destroyer...as I destroy everything.  I am cancer....

Never Play with Fire

Once upon a very cold and dreary day, two little girls decided to play.

It was cold in their bedroom..the only warmth a small heating unit.
The girls huddled against the heater, but still shivered with the cold..

A thought occurred to the "older" girl, "lets sit on the heater, then we will be warmer."  

But it was too hot to sit on..so the little girl put a jacket on the heater...the girls sat, and it worked..for a time..then they needed to add another shirt..then another...

A fire caught and started to burn the clothing...

the little girl ran screaming from the room, the older girl just watched and stared...

All of the sudden, the older girl smelled peanuts...
"Did you want to burn the house down?" 
no answer
silence

She felt her calf burning, she smelled burning peanuts, she "played with her doll"

"Never play with fire, you will be burned.........." 

The Rocking Horse

A little girl once wanted something she couldn't have...
Her sibling had a rocking horse, and she was not allowed to ride it...she wanted to ride it so bad....she loved horses....she drew pictures of horses...

One day, she thought nobody was watching and she got on the horse, she started rocking back and forth, imaging she was riding a glorious horse through the fields, jumping over fences, running free and wild...happy

the "dad" caught her...he was not happy...she was not allowed on that rocking horse...but "dad" was smiling as he approached her...he approached her, popping peanuts in his mouth...

"You like that horse?"...
He reached out and started rocking the horse, gently at first, and the little girl was confused...the rocking got more violent, the little girl had trouble holding on...she started getting scared...

"don't fall off..." he said, and rocked harder and harder, more violent...she could not hold on anymore and fell off...this made the "dad" angry....

"this is what if feels like to be kicked by a horse when you fall off"..and he started kicking the little girl hard in the side...she curled up in a ball and went away to a far off place where wild horses ran free....

she never rode on a rocking horse again...she became scared of horses...she became scared of freedom...yet she did not cry....

she still drew pictures of horses.......

Discipline

Is discipline:

putting a childs leg to fire and burning them, a way to teach them to respect flames?

Is forcing a child to kill a pet, a way to teach them to clean up after their animals?

Is killing a pet a hard lesson for not sharing?

Is yelling and cussing and humiliation a way to mold a child?

Is molesting a child a good way to teach sex education?

is instilling fear into a child, a good way to control them?

Is abandonment the alternative for dealing?

Is a beating, the same as a spanking?

What is discipline in the mind of a child????

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A Christmas Tale

Once upon a time, in a far away place, a little girl was looking forward to Christmas.  she would sit and watch for hours the little train go around and around the christmas tree...she was afraid to touch the train, but loved to watch it, hear the wheels scrape along the track...

One day, her mom and little brother were running through the house and the train was knocked off the track...one of the wheels broke...the little girl was so sad, she loved watching the train...

when the "dad" came home, he was mad the train was broken...he started to roar his unhappiness...mom got nervous...she knew his "mood" was coming...she held the baby brother and pointed to the little girl "she broke the train..its her fault"...

The little girl said nothing,  it is always her fault...she did not cry when the "dad" picked up a train track and started hitting her with it,  she did not cry when he called her "stupid little shit"...she did not cry when he picked the tree up off its stand and threw it at her, she did not cry when he repeatedly picked up that tree and hit her with it...she just curled up in a ball and went away....she imagined playing with her little doll...

when the "dad" was done with his rage...the little girl quietly started cleaning up the mess...the mom helped put the tree back on the stand...she appreciated the help as the tree was big and heavy for a little girl to manage....the little girl never cried....

The little girl, put this memory away...

A lonely Christmas

So, this is the first holiday season, I have been alone.  NO family, no company, no cooking, no shopping, nothing...just another day in the month...

Thanksgiving, I spent watching TV in bed...
Now, Christmas....I wonder what it will be like to wake up christmas morning to NOTHING...no kids, no grandkids, no family, no food, no presents....

I wonder if I will just lay in bed all day and watch TV..

I wonder if I will be sad?  I know, that I deserve to be alone..I left my family, my life...  I have made my bed, now I have to lie in it...haha...

The funny thing is, I did not choose to leave my family...My shit fuck tumor infested, split mind, brain injury and overall stupid brain fuck forced me to leave...it was either leave or die....nobody understands that...my husband told me that I have "destroyed him, the family"...REALLY?   my brain has destroyed me....

So, Christmas morning, I will sleep in...take Boomer to the park...and enjoy the fact that I am not dead...not yet....

pondering....

As I sit on my balcony, up here in my treehouse...I listen to the rain, softly coming down through the trees...I listen to the sound of rippling running water in the creek beside me..I listen to the birds and squirrels scrambling around in the leaves and dead forage...and I think about things...not about life and death, but more abstract...

I start to hear, think, see and feel, an alternate reality,  I have questions about:

Does a fallen leaf, feel the wind, as it pushes it forward?

Does the wind, feel the warmth of the sun?

Does a wave feel pain, as it crashes onto the shore?

Do weeds scream in agony, as they are yanked out by the roots?

If a tree is allowed to grow, will it ever stop?

When raindrops fall, do they feel the impact?  does the explosion hurt?

My new brain, ponders the ridiculous as if it is real....and who says its not?  I wonder about life, all life...I never use to wonder or even think about "life" until death started staring me in the eye...Now, everything is alive to me, living...a heartbeat somewhere....

Nothing is dead as long as I want to live.....

why? why do I do this???

Why do I have to fuck up a good thing?  Why can't I shut my fucking brain off?   Why do I fucking overthink every goddamn thing?  Why do I always expect the worse?  Why can't I allow myself to be happy? Why do I hurt myself?  WHY can't I trust love...

I hate women who stalk their men...women who go through their man's cell phone...who snoop through drawers and cabinets, who question actions all the time,  who say mean things...

I do not snoop on a man, never have...I do not stalk...but do I???
am I becoming "that" woman?  I am not a jealous person, I really am not...I am an INSECURE woman,  I never feel like I am enough, pretty enough, nice enough, thoughtful enough, loving enough, woman enough.....

I look in the mirror, all I see is ugliness,  I see nothing beautiful, nothing that could keep a man happy...in my head..I am a freak of a woman...ugly, hideous, inside and out..

This is where my head goes....I can be told over and over "you are beautiful, thoughtful, loving, etc..." and I cannot accept that...I just flat out can't accept positive reinforcement...My head tells me whatever is told to me, is a lie....something said as a pat answer, not true, just placating...

I truly am permanently damaged, just like a burn victim, my brain is a burn victim...hideously disfigured, scarred, hard...ugly...sick...

My fear of rejection is fucking all consuming...I want love, I want to know that I know that I know, I am important, I am loved, and cherished...but that will never happen...my brain is just to fucked up.....

I can't love myself...I hate myself...how do you love a freak?  How do you love yourself???  shit...this is me...this is ally, this is lilly, this is all the little abused girls out there...childhood abuse, fucks a woman up...PERMANENTLY...No god can take that away...God fucking gave me abuse and suffering then sat back on his mighty fucking throne and ate popcorn and enjoyed the show.....

WELL THANK YOU VERY MUCH HEAVENLY FATHER...YOU ARE NO FATHER TO ME....I have no father...I am an island....

Intruder...

I feel like an intruder...
I don't belong...anywhere...
I don't belong...to anyone

I am an outcast..
I don't fit in...
I don't think like others...normal others...

I get in the way...
I feel small, 
I feel like a freak show..

I am an alien...not really human,
not really an animal..

I am a trichotomy, 
but not: body, soul, and spirit...

I am a little girl, 
wanting to play...
I am a teenager,
trying to be an adult..
I am a grown woman
fighting my destiny...

A woman,
who is not a real woman...
just a 3rd of a woman...

A woman, split
into a thousand pieces.....

pills pills pills

Geez....about three years ago, maybe two, I don't remember exactly, but I was detoxed off of all my pain meds:

Demoral
Morphine
tramadol
anti-depressants
anti-seizure meds
anxiety pill
stomach meds, nausea pills
schitzo pill (for sleeping to shut off the violent dreams)
and whatever else I was on...I was a fucking walking pharmacy...

I had no emotions, no feelings, no desire, no happiness, no sadness, I just was....a ZOMBIE..A WALKING DEAD PERSON

Off all meds, I came alive...I started having emotions, sexual desire, more energy...I felt so happy!!!! I lost weight, I became active in running again...I felt I had a life...

Now,  I am fucking back up to 4 pills:  anxiety, diabetes pill, estrogen and pepcid...

I am fucking climbing the pill ladder again...I HATE IT...I DON'T WANT TO BE A ZOMBIE...I HATE DRUGS...I AM GONNA FIGHT MY ASS OFF TO NOT BE A ZOMBIE FUCKING PILL POPPING NON-PERSON...

I would rather just go ahead and die then go back to the "old" worthless human I was before....

sigh

I just don't know...

I have been writing a long time....suppose to be working on a book with a friend, but that seems to have gone by the wayside...which is fine...no one reads the blog, so reading a book won't happen..

My blog originally was to be part of the book...but now  it is more of a diary, a public diary, but one the public does not read...

The story I have to share, really is not unusual or different than many other similar stories,  so there is not anything special or different about me....

I am just  a female, born into a shit family situation, continued to be shit on as I grew up,  more shit as an adult...If a book ever is published I need to change the title to:

"Sparrow, A life of shit."

I bet, if anything, a lot of women can relate to being shit on...

But does it ever stop????  NO

Balloons

Balloons begin as
soft rubber; fresh, new

They fill with air
become beautiful; floating, full
wonderfully fragile..

Then, they burst
air sucked out; useless, busted
destroyed rubber...

Destined for the trash
no longer, beautiful

I AM A BALLOON

Sometimes full of life
Oftentimes struggling for air
Most times, busted and broken...

Memories

I have heard people say "there are no such thing as "repressed" memories...unless they are put there by someone ...

Well yea,  because of someone  or something , the memories were repressed...

Now, people are saying there is no such thing as MPD or DID, it is only related to anxiety and panic attacks...not really alters...they don't exist...

Well, picture this:

A little girl, forced to kill her puppy in a bathtub...because the dog shit on the floor...

A pet bunny, ripped out of  her arms, neck twisted and killed, then given back, lifeless, to a small child...because she was being selfish with the bunny...

The list goes on and on....What does a little girl, like 5 or 6 yrs old, suppose to do with this???  SHE REPRESSED IT, SHE FOUND A FRIEND TO HELP HER DEAL WITH THESE HORRIBLE THINGS...her friend was imaginary, her friend became HER...this is when DID or MPD starts...and the friend, never goes away..she keeps guard on the now grown up little girl...she is now allowing the grown up little girl, to remember 'what she has been trying so hard to forget'...

A child has no way to deal with or protect themselves from monsters, so the only thing for survival is to split in their mind...MPD saves lives...

That now grown woman, is not crazy, she is not making things up..what would be the point??  She is trying to navigate a drug free life,  she now has clarity in her mind, it is not subdued and repressed with "mood stabilizers, anti depressants, various pain narcotic meds, seizure meds, etc....."  those medicines made her a zombie, no memories, no feelings, no emotions, just robotic movements through life...they kept her 'friend' down...asleep...

She is growing up, maturing, standing up for herself, making a life for herself, and the "friend"  knows it is time for her to remember, accept, grieve, rage, cry, whatever...to get all the pent-up shit for a childhood out so she can breathe and smile again...her friend is 'awake' now...and she is NOT a bad friend to have, in fact, she is my best friend...

Born to die

Punch a cloud,
watch it bleed..
drops of blood,
for all to see...

Kill the sky,
watch it die...
I don't understand,
why? why? why?

She did it,
the little shit...
It's her fault,
she deserves the hit...

So what,
It's a lie...
all she did,
was be born to die....