FREAK

I HATE MYSELF
I HATE THE OTHERS
I HATE THE WAY I LOOK
I HATE THE WAY I SOUND
I HATE MY CONFUSED MIND
I HATE MY BODY
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HATE IS FUEL,
THAT KEEPS ME GOING...
IT IS FREE,
AND ALL FOR ME...

SHE IS DUMB,
TO BE SO BLIND..
WE ARE ALL HERE,
INSIDE HER MIND...

SHE NEVER KNOWS,
WHICH ONE WE ARE.
HELL, SOME OF US
CAN DRIVE A CAR...

WE CONTROL HER BODY,
WE CONTROL HER MIND,
WE CONTROL HER THOUGHTS
WE CONTROL HER TIME.

SHE IS NOT REAL,
NOT WHOLE, NOT SANE.
SHE IS A FREAK.
NOT EVEN A NAME....

insomia

WHY is it so fucking hard for me to get a good nights sleep?  Between having to pee every 2 hours,  this fucking itching business, then I am hot and I am cold,  a noise wakes me up, my fucking dreams wake me up. I can't get comfortable..I am not getting good sleep.

I can't turn my brain off at night, even though I shut down the motor of my body to rest, my brain refuses to shut down...it keeps humming right along.   

My head is a fucking spaghetti bowl of conversation and thoughts, twisting and winding all over eachother until they make no fucking sense at all.....

I sleep walk too.....some mornings things are different in my house.  Am I sleep walking or is it a fucking alter wrecking my nights sleep?

It has been three nights now that I have slept for shit.   It is starting to take its toll on my body....my eyes feel gritty...I feel super irritated...sounds are much louder in my  head than in reality...I feel myself diving head first into that fuck depression....

I feel like I could lay my head on my pillow and fall fast into a deep sleep....but in reality, I feel this way, but when I lay down,  my eyes pop open and will not close...my brain will not close...my body becomes uncomfortable, itchy, achy...I can't get comfortable enough....horrible thoughts flood me, paranoia begins, violent thoughts start to develop, when I do dream they are anxiety ridden dreams,  nightmares that wake me up....I am starting to get all whiny and tearful...crying in frustration...

If these are my alters fucking with my sleep...then they must hate me....I hate them.

The girls

So I am going to try and write about each of my alters.  What I know about them.  

Lilly: the first I was aware of:
         age progressed from 8 yrs to 19 yrs old (as memories/trauma is dealt with, she grows older) 
        left-handed
        was thought to be originally a demon
        serious, seems angry alot
        hears everything going on around her
        can drive a car
        she has a low voice
        protector
        female (sissy)
        takes my memories away, gives me memories
        can control my heart rate
        can control my breathing
        can take away or mask pain
        she has proclaimed that all of us are one...
           has different facial features (her eyes get dark)

Ally:  (the second I was aware of)
         6-9 yrs old
         female
         left-handed
         always happy
         never sleepy
         sees everything around her
         bait (she would take punishments for others, siblings)
         stress relief
         loves to play
         facial features change when she is fronting (higher cheekbones, brighter eyes, carries herself different
         voice change

Sammy:
         does not speak
         uses sign language to talk
         right-handed
         female
         20's?
         can drive a car
         loves music and dancing
        very modest, bashful, shy
         (had deaf friend, Sylvia as child)  
             -this is an evolving memory...

Sophie:
        angry, mean spirited
        calls sparrow names
        writes wicked words with sharpie on sparrow
        hurts sparrow, with physical violence (self harm) and hurtful s          speech.
         right handed
        female
         age (?)
        throws stuff, breaks dishes and objects
        

There is another alter we are discovering.  But this one does not have a name...just gave an "adjective", which I do not know yet. she told Kevin, who has not told me yet. So I know zero about this one.

Then there is Melissa (host?)  
           57 yrs old
           ambidextrous
           animal lover
           mother, wife, girlfriend, memaw
           christian, church goer
           bisexual (closet)
           volunteer advocate
           loves tattoos
           short hair only
           gymnast

Then there is Sparrow (an alter??)
           my identity
           host, now?
           single
           writer
           BDSM
           57 yrs old, adult
           pagan, wiccan
           boomer
           independent
           wild and loose
           long blonde curly hair
           bisexual
           submissive to Kevin
           tattoos
           girly girl
           hates christianity with an unnatural zeal
           voyeur

So far, this is all I know.   Are there more alters?  who the fuck knows, but they are slowly coming out, fronting.   
         

phrases of thoughts/ keeping alters happy

I smile away my sins,
forgive my foes,
and die within.....


Everything I think I see,
is not actually real,
at least to me......

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My dreams are trying to talk to me....is it an alter trying to tell me something, or is it my conscious?   

I dreamed last night, that everyone was wanting to tie me up, literally get a rope and tie me up.   AND NOT IN A FUN WAY they were serious.

I was so scared, petrified.  Not of the rope and being tied up, but of the way the people were treating me.  Like an animal.  A wild animal, out of control.....

Am I out of control?   More and more alters are appearing...when I thought I had one, has now grown to 5.....and there are probably more.....My mind is out of control, how do I tie up my brain to keep the alters in place???  I WILL NOT DO MEDICATIONS

I have to learn to integrate them into my life.  Make allowances and concessions in my own body to accommodate and make them happy.   

Inside my head...I can start to feel edgy, emotional, angry, sad, irritated, whatever and I never know why....Why am I feeling this way?  No fucking reason to be upset...I am going nuts!!!  I am finding out, that my alters have emotions also, and when they are upset about something, it gets me, Sparrow, feeling upset, only I don't know why.....

For example:   My friend keeps a Barbie Doll house and barbies at his place for Ally to play with.  They are always out, he never puts them away.   One day, him and I, Sparrow,  boxed them up and put them away because his young son was coming for a visit...
All day, even though me, Sparrow, knew why they were put up and was perfectly fine with it...I was feeling sad, afraid, confused, upset and I couldn't figure out why.....I finally said something to my friend about how I was feeling.   So, he sat me down and asked "Ally" to come out and see if "she" was sad....

My little, Ally, was so upset.  She thought that she had been a bad girl and all her toys were taken from her.  (just like when I was a very small child, my toys were taken from me and destroyed or thrown away, routinely ...) my friend explained to Ally, why they were put up.  And then he assured her they would be put back out once his son left.  Ally was happy again.   After Ally left, and Sparrow was back, I was not sad, or emotional at all.   I was good. The rest of the day was fine.

This is, I believe, integrating...making sure everyone understands and is agreement.   When my alters are happy or content or whatever, then my emotions are good, calm, etc..

As I learn of my new alters, learn about them..the why's as to why they are here, learn their personalities, likes and dislikes etc...I can learn to appease them in my "normal" like, make allowances in choices and words, clothing, music, food and shit like that, so they do not become upset and in turn "make me upset in my day"...
This process is so hard...but my friend is helping me in a way no fucking Shrink could ever.   

I cannot spend hours upon hours forming a trust and friendship with a doctor I see once a week for an hour.   My alters have to "trust" a person completely to front for them.   I have to love, trust and be able to share my life, 24/7 with someone before the others will front.   When I saw a shrink before,  they just put me on tons of drugs, this did not help at all, it only put the "others" down, put them in a coma, basically and made me a zombie, yet socially normal.   FUCK THAT.  I DO NOT DO DRUGS ANYMORE.
with doctors and counselors, therapists, I feel more like a side show attraction, than a patient/person.   My alters will not perform for an audience.  PERIOD... nor do I want to be the subject of some fuck shrinks medical paper they are writing....NOPE, not me, not us.

alters or brain tumors...

So, NOW I have to figure out which is causing my memory loss and, headaches. As everyone knows I have more than 10 brain tumors in my frontal lobes. I have radiation damage from the surgery years ago (to the brain). WHAT IS THE ALTERS AND WHAT IS THE BRAIN TUMOR??? BOTH ARE REAL. Do the brain tumors effect the alters or just me, Sparrow.? Are the tumors in the frontal lobes actually fucking with me???, no, I have had Lilly and Ally since I was a little child, didn't have the tumors then....

I have had doctors say I have a heart murmur, and then I have doctors that say "no, I do not have a heart murmur. (Kevin goes with me to all my appointments and has seen this personally)

Can an alter have a heart murmur, and its only detected when she is present?

Some eye doctors have told me I have an astigmatism, other eye doctors say I don't....

My face, eyes, voice, mannerisms all change to different "looks" when they are present. And no, they are never all out at once....

No, they don't talk to me, I don't talk to them...I can, however, feel when my little wants to present, I feel like giggling and laughing (thats Ally)....

I can "see", but not really see, more like feel a presence and can see a shape just behind my right shoulder, I cannot see a face or anything, but when that happens, that is Lilly.

The others are way more sudtle as to why I don't know them or their habits or whatever...and Kevin said they can be very good at imitating me, they have had to my whole life....

shit...I hope maybe that helps with some questions you might have....Kevin knows each one, because he knows me and watches me so closely, he is learning who is who by watching me, my hands, my face, my posture, my speech and sound of voice whatever...and he is still learning more...

The picture I am going to post is "Ally". I have posted it before on this page. If you look closely, ,my eyes are different, ,my features are different. I have no memory of this picture, Kevin took i. Kevin took it to show me Ally. To show me the changes in my facial features and such...

DID

DID...disassociative Identity Disorder, or MPD Multiple Personality Disorder. DID is not PANIC ATTACKS, or depression or by-polar...It happens when as a small child, that child experienced such extreme abuse that their small brain fractures into identies (invisible friends) to help them endure what ever is happening. If the abuse is constant and years of it, the split is permanent. In my blog, I talk about the extreme physical, sexual, and emotional, verbal abuse I had as a child into adulthood. I have survived all these years because of my "girls".....period. I think they are all girls anyway....I am just now learning how to deal with all this. All the extreme negative posts I put on facebook, slamming myself as stupid or suicidal...that is not Sparrow. That is my alter, Sophie. She hates me...I also have one that is non-verbal and speaks only with sign language. I have another that is nameless, and can be very violent...then their is Ally, my little. And one name Lilly who I think is the "Host" or most influencial....I am beginning to think Sparrow is also an alter.....but not sure.I am patiently trying to figure all this at....and learn to live with all of them. Kevin is perfect. All my alters trust him and for the first time ever, have actually came out and met him and talk with him....He can tell each one, as my voice changes, my facial features change, my habits and demeaner changes. Lilly can control pain, and my heart rate and breathing....I know Lilly and Ally are left handed, Sophie is right handed...don't know about the others, not yet. Also one of them may even have a heart murmur...

These personalities only present when they are "triggered", so I am trying to learn what triggers each one to present. A trigger could be a song, a word or phrase, smell, movie, word, really anything.

Please, if you think having different personalities is a sham, or just PTSD or made up...YOU ARE WRONG. If you think that, please do not post anything negative or demeaning or anything that makes me feel bad....I AM NOT LYING...There is proof. If you still are having a hard time with this, please call Kevin or talk with him, he can better explain all of this....

I hope we can all still be friends...but if this freaks you out, I will not be offended if you unfriend me. (by the way, the more angry and violent alters all turn on me, never anybody else..they have cracked bones, burned me, cut me, bruised me, written horrble fucking words in sharpie all over my body...cut words into my arms etc.....and literally tried to get me to kill myself, many many times....it is scary, but now that I know I am not fucking crazy, Kevin and I both will be better able to control them, I hope,. anyhoo, my kids don't know yet, and my husband will just probably go into his office and try and pray them away....fuck

Worse than worse

There is absolutely nobody who is harder on me than myself.    I am my own worst critic.  I am my own worst enemy.
I am never:
   smart enough
   brave enough
   rich enough
   pretty enough
   worthy enough

If someone goes through a horrible life situation, someone who has nothing to do with me, I feel guilty.  It should have been me, not them....I deserve disease, poverty, abuse, death, hardship....not them.

I feel guilty for surviving.  Why should I survive "unscathed" for the most part.   I destroyed everything, and yet walked away....my childhood was destroyed, yet I lived into adulthood...

I fucking feel guilty for being alive.  Why me?

I fucking hate the way I hate myself.   But I can't stop.  I get so fearful of rejection,  that I push people away....If someone gets to close, it frightens me.   

I do not have the ability to accept "unconditional love".  "conditional" yes...but to love just to love...I can't put my head around that.  

When my depression is here I feel even worse....I almost can't breathe...I want to stop living...

I will never be good enough for myself...
I will never look good enough for myself..
I will never think good enough for myself.
I will never feel good enough about myself
I will never be able to accept positive affirmations made to me or about me...
I will never be able to look in a mirror and think "I love me"....

My head does not think like "normal" people, obviously.
I share my mind with two other persons...we are constantly at odds with eachother...
I am always mentally exhausted...imagine how others must feel after a few days with me...or us, I guess I should say.

I hear "snap out of it",  "write down positve things",  "get over it" , and I know that others have it way worse than me and I should be thankful....but too me, I am the worse...the worse of the worse....

this is my brain...this is my life....the worse because its mental..its split...I have no identity to call my own....

A name

Trying to get myself out of depression.

-slept 10 hours
-cleaned out rats cage
-took dog for walk to park
-watched a funny movie
-ate a healthy dinner
-cleaned and vacuumed apartment
-did shopping for a friend
-cleaned up said friends' apartment
-smiled at strangers
-fed the birds and squirrels
-did some writing
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I really do not like being in depression mode....even though I do everything I can to combat this fuck illness, it lingers.

This morning, I got out of bed, got my coffee and flipped on the computer.   I thought I was going to have a good day, maybe the depression was starting to slide, then I saw it.  A "name" on my timeline.  One lousy fucking name of a person that I perceive as a constant threat to my life.   Seeing the name,  gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, seeing the name brought back memories I want to forget, seeing the name reminds me of my "crime" of stealing someone that was not mine to begin with.  Seeing the name reminded me of a decade long relationship that I ruined.  Seeing the name, reminding me of how I crushed and hurt someone so completely...Seeing the name reminded me of a choice I forced someone to make...."them or me"....

Seeing the name,  fills me with guilt, sadness and a sense of doom.
This person is beautiful, loved by family, upstanding member of society.  A career person, a nice person, a family person.   This person was deeply in love and committed to someone I love....but I know my love will never match the love of the other person.

I know I can't compete with a real person.   Because I am a mess.  I am ugly, fat, have horrible mental problems, a bad temper, and can't remember shit.   I am unemployed with no redeeming assets...I have no skills, no career, no family, no future but eventual death.

I know deep down in my heart, that I have lost...eventually I will destroy my relationship, because I am a fuck up...and the person whose name scares me, will be the victor.   I never win at anything, I am always the loser, in the long run.

I have lost already, I am preparing my heart for defeat...

own worst enemy

I cannot figure out why I can so easily blow up.   I do not have a fuse...I go from flame to explosion simultaneously....I hate that I do this...I want to stop....but it keeps happening...

When I "lose" it, it can be for fucking anything, " a door didn't shut right", or "couldn't figure something out", or "can't find something"...stupid mundane shit like that, and I can go ballistic.
Other times, those exact situations and I am calm and serene. I am a ticking time-bomb..

I am not by-polar.   I have been told I have some kind of syndrome from the head injury that can cause sudden outburst that are inappropriate for the given situation.  

When I blow, I can feel it coming, and I can't stop it.  I literally leave my body and watch myself go crazy.   And in the midst of the craziness, I am in my head thinking "stop" "you are being stupid or ridiculous"..but I can't stop.  I have to rage, until I am spent.  
Usually I don't stop until I have injured myself.  I have cracked bones, given myself horrible bruises from hitting my arms against a door or cabinet top or anything handy.  I have cut myself , written horrible words in sharpie all over my body,  its the self inflicted actual physical pain that snaps me back to reality.

My latest, using a knife to cut the word "stupid" onto my arm, so I can see it...as a constant reminder...why?????

When my bizarre episode is over, the sadness and guilt I feel over words said, or damage done, is overwhelming.   I free fall into depression.....then the words "useless" "exhausting" "stupid" flood my mind...and my guilt becomes worse to the point that I punish myself for my own stupid behavior.   I will isolate myself...I will write and say mean things about myself....I will deny myself happiness...I will push away the very people I need to be embracing...I try to run from  love and forgiveness....I don't deserve forgiveness...I don't deserve to be touched, hugged, kissed...I deserve to be abandoned and sent to my room.......forever.....

I say "I am sorry" over and over, yet I cannot stop...I really am sorry, so sad and ashamed of my behavior, I want to stop...and I do, for awhile until I don't....and the cycle begins again.

My sister once told me that every morning when she looks in the mirror she says to herself..."hello beautiful"...

She is so confident in  herself.  She loves herself.  She is happy with her life, her looks, her job...she is able to blow off things that are uncomfortable.  She does not beat herself up for anything....How can we be sisters yet so different.  How could she have survived our childhood, unscathed?  Was all the horrible only saved for me??  I hate her and love her at the same time.   I am jealous of her...she is so happy all the fucking time...at least what I see or perceive...

I tried the looking in the mirror and telling myself "hello beautiful" a couple of times...it only left me feeling nauseous and like a hypocrite.

I do know one thing.  I am harder on myself, than my mother, fuck step dad,  and anybody else ever thought to be...I am my own worst enemy, my punisher.   I am my own destroyer.

living stupid

It is fucking amazing, how stupid I am.   I don't think I was born stupid, but I am definitely an idiot now.  

It is starting to become abundantly clear, that I am not able to take care of myself.  I can't even pay fucking bills....don't get me started on the computer shit...I don't understand almost everything about computers which make me seriously stupid in this computer age..

Everything goddamn frustrates me,  and the more frustrated I get, the stupider and idiotic I become.   I get angry because I can't understand something that is suppose to be understandable.....I get angry, because I need a fucking babysitter.  I get angry at being so stupid.

I am a fucking burden on anybody who might try to "love" me...
the ONLY thing I am good for, seriously, is a good fuck.  don't need a brain to spread your legs......

I LITERALLY HATE MY BRAIN.....I HATE MYSELF....I HATE BEING STUPID

Stupid: adj....having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense.

YEP, insert picture of me with that definition....

Left/right revaluation

The first time, at least that I can remember, someone tried to work with my left/right ignorance issues, was when I started gymnastics (at age 13)
I always led off with my left foot, or left hand and did my tricks.  But, the coach thought I would do better using the right lead off leg or arm.....He even put me up against a ballet bar and told me to do a back handspring walk over....I threw to the left and hit the bar....I had to do this over and over, until I "properly" used right foot.....

I had so many issues on the balance beam because of being forced to start right on tricks....

My daddy was left handed and could write with his right also.  So I figured I was ambidextrous, like him....
My handwriting was sloppy left handed, but I could draw perfect pictures left or right handed....I can even draw the same picture with both hands at the same time.....

both drawn at same time with each hand....


Recently, after discovering I just fucking don't know my left from right and getting the tattoos on my hands,  my friend and I started experimenting with my skills , left handed.

We went bowling.  I did horrible bowling right handed...my score was less than 100...I was told to bowl left handed.  First throw of the ball down the lane...STRIKE,,,I finished that game above 100...

another time we were Kayaking and stopped at a cove.  There was a branch floating along, so we started throwing rocks at it...my friend and his son could not hit the branch...I could not either, right handed...so I switched to my left and BOOM HIT THE BRANCH FIRST TIME I THREW THE ROCK....

Both of my alters are left handed.

My friend has also noticed an odd thing....whenever I am upset, anxious, depressed or mad...I eat right handed.  When I am happy, content, in a good mood, I eat left-handed.   I had no ideal I did this....nobody has ever noticed this before.

But the kicker....the scientific evidence to prove I was actually born South Paw....

I have 5 cowlicks in the back of my head...all of them curve to the left.  haha,  my cousin told me about the cowlick wives tale, so I looked for myself, and I have left curling cowlicks....SO IT MUST BE TRUE...HAHAHAHA

I really feel, that many of us Baby Boomers were born lefty's but forced to learn right handed because of society....I know I was forced to use my right hand....maybe even because my daddy was left handed, my mother HATED him, so I can see her forcing me to be right handed....just to spite my dad....
HEY....IT COULD HAPPEN.

Left or right, thats the question...

When giving directions to someone, I always told them landmarks to turn at....I used landmarks to drive around...

I lived in Oklahoma more than 30 yrs.  OKC is laid out in a square grid, with all name signs running south and north, and numbered street signs east and west...very easy to get around without help in Oklahoma city.  I also wore a wedding ring...

The wedding ring, of course, is on the left hand...so I always knew which way was left.....until I took that ring off....

My husband usually steered me around at malls and stuff, by placing his hand on my neck and physically turning me to the direction he wanted to go....I hated that....

When I left Oklahoma and moved to Virginia, I discovered the town I live in is NOT set in a grid, it winds and curves all over the damn place...I had to start using the WAZE app to drive in my new place.   But I was still having such a hard time with directions....My WAZE would say "turn left, or turn right"....I was constantly getting lost and so fucking aggravated, it was awful.

Finally one day, I just stopped driving, I was so confused and lost, even with WAZE that I just pulled over and stopped my car.  I called my friend, crying, screaming in frustration and he pulled up my location and started telling me how to get back, by giving me landmarks...which was fine until he said "turn left at the park"...I drove right by....he was so confused as to why I could not simply turn left or right....Then a lightbulb came on with him...He changed the way he was directing me, he started saying turn "passenger side" or turn "drivers side"...I was able to get where I was going.

My friend is a drummer, when I got to his place he asked me to do an experiment with him.  I sat beside him and watched as he padded on his legs..left, left, right, right, left.  By watching I was easily able to do what he asked.  Then, without demonstrating he asked me to repeat it but it was...right, right, left, left, right..Without being able to watch him, I was not able to do it correctly.  He then looked at me and said "you don't know your left from your right, do you?" and I responded, "I guess not.."  I was so embarrassed to realize that I was an adult and didn't know my left from my right.

My friend found a Sharpie pen and wrote L on the backside of my left hand and an R on the back of my right hand. Then we took a short drive using the WAZE app again, and I was able to drive the complicated course without any errors by just quickly glancing at my hands as the program gave me a direction. 

A few days later, when I realized the importance of my new letters on my hands, I went to a local tattoo artist and had them tattoo a "R" on my right hand and an "L" on my left. 

  Also, on the dash of my car by the speedometer and small chrome L and a R were put there for the days I wear gloves.....my directional issue was fixed!!

For most of my life, I felt like I was ambidextrous. I could write and draw with both hands. But in reality I have discovered I was born a "lefty" and forced to be a "righty". This has just added to the confusion in my head about directions. (but that will be another story)

Fact is, I'm much better now with this issue due to my little tattoos and I haven't gotten frustrated or lost in a very long time now. I apologize to the makers of WAZE for the thousands of cuss words I screamed in vain about your app.

Imaginary friend

I have an imaginary friend,
Her name is Chrissy.
She is my doll.
she is a toy.

She is real, to me.
Chrissy protects me,
she keeps my memories
locked away.  
She speaks for me,
when I lose my voice.
she gets me home,
when I have lost my way.
Chrissy became Lilly.
I have an imaginary friend.
Her name is Lilly,
She is me...

looking outside

when I look outside my window
I see birds, trees, life....
when I look into my head
I see death, torture, sadness, heartache...

when I look at my love
I see compassion, desire, trust, loyalty....
when I look at my mother
I see lies, hate, disgust, hypocrisy....

when I look outside
I see blue skies, calm winds, warmth...
when I look into myself
I see chaos, violent winds and darkness...

when i don't think
I don't feel....

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How can I not think about new revelations, when they are opening my soul.   When they are validating my fears, and my reasons for fears...I feel lost....tossed about like a piece of trash on a windy day...

I feel like a side show attraction at a circus....the woman with three heads....I feel different, alien to humans....I don't feel human...I don't feel I belong...anywhere....I feel like an orphan, a vagabond, homeless...I feel like I am balancing on a high wire, teetering on the brink of madness.....

How can I keep my sanity?  How do you put one foot in front of the other and move on?  How do I rectify my emotional pain and baggage?

Do I spray paint "fuck you animal" on his gravestone?
Do I send a letter telling him "I remember" telling him about my hate and hurt in my heart, from him?  Will that make his stay in prison more miserable???
Do I confront mommy dearest?  am I strong enough to do that without beating her to within a inch of her life???  
Do I ask a man with a heart condition, why did you lie about me???
How do I get closure, doing all those things won't erase the memory, nor the horror and disgust...it will not change or alter my past.....

I don't know how to handle this....so many fucking raw emotions I have no clue how to manage...I am trying to keep my head above water while the Tsunami is trying to drown me....

I am doing the best I can, but I feel the best is not good enough.....

No forgiveness

All these stupid fucking christians with no clue about real life....they say "you need to forgive"....forgive the person that hurt you, destroyed you, etc....

well fuck that shit!   It may be easy for a fuck christian to pray to god and ask god to forgive them of the "whatever" they did to someone else.....forgive me god for fucking a child.  Thank you for that forgiveness......  but what about the child?????? what if that child will not or can not forgive them???

Christians and their "having their cake and eating it too" mentality is so fucking stupid....

I can never forgive my mother, SHE HAS NEVER ASKED ME TO FORGIVE HER...but I know her christian ass has asked god to forgive her for her horrible mothering....so I guess she feels good about herself now....

but what about me?  How do I forgive a mother who has not asked for my forgiveness or even wants it...How can I ask a fuck drunk ,monster of a "step dad" for forgiveness, how can I forgive a dead man....?  How can I forgive a fucking pedophile monster who is locked up in prison???  THEY NEVER ASKED ME FOR FORGIVENESS FOR THE MONSTROSITIES THEY IMPOSED ON ME...why in the fuck hell should I forgive them?

will it make me less angry?  NO
will it make me less sad?  NO
will it give me closure? NO
will it change me? NO
will it get me into heaven? FUCK NO

I will not ever, forgive them.  They do not deserve forgiveness...
The victim should never forgive a perpetrator, especially if they don't ask for forgiveness....(the perp)...

This bullshit feel good "forgiveness" shit, does not make me sleep better, it does not make the memories and hurt go away...all forgiveness does is lets the "monsters" off the hook....

Instead, I am hoping that the pedophile in prison is getting ass fucked and beat everyday by other inmates, I hope he is fucking miserable and in excruciating pain and lives a long time being somebody elses bitch....

I hope the dead mother fucker "dad" spirit and soul are being devoured by worms and he cannot rest...EVER

I hope my mother remembers and relives the horrors she let happen to me in her dreams every day and she cannot rest.  And I can't wait for her to die and see for herself there is no fucking god and heaven...she will just rot.  Perfect ending for her.

AND IF ANYONE THINKS I SHOULD FORGIVE THEM FOR THEIR ACTIONS AGAINST ME, THEY MIGHT AS WELL PISS IN A FAN.....IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN.

my mom

My mom hated her home town.  She wanted out.  Her and my father went to school together.  They dated and decided to get married.  My mom would get to leave that town....My father joined the Navy and was stationed at Virginia Beach.  My mom moved with him from the midwest to the east coast.  She knew no one.  My dad was a sailor on submarines...he was at sea 3 mos at a time.  So I guess my mom started going to the NCO club and met Ronald (my soon to be new "dad".  He was alot older than her and very debonair (according to my mother).  He was also a drunk and had secrets...My mom started having an affair with Ron while my dad was at sea....she was pregnant with me, while sleeping with Ronald.    I do not know how long she and Ron carried on...I was born...

My aunts raised me for awhile...My mom and father divorced.  She married "dad" . at some point they moved back to Texas, grande Prairie....the nightmare began.....

My "dad" was a horrible mean violent drunk.   He beat my mother constantly....I would sit in my bedroom, back against the door with my sister and listen to the blows...to the furniture being broken and thrown around...It was awful....

One night after the fight was over and "dad" slammed out of the house, I creeped into my moms room to find the mattress flipped over and my mom laying on the floor underneath the bed mattress...but she was not crying, she was laughing...he had beat her badly, but she was laughing...I will never forget that....

After my brother was born, "dad" stopped hitting my mom..She was always holding my brother, so he never hit her....The rage turned to me, his "step daughter"...I became his whipping board...

I would get beat over and over and my mom would just watch, or stand there, holding my brother, not offering to help....

I use to hate her for that....for letting or allowing him to do those fucking awful sick things to me....but....before my brother, he did those awful sick things to her....She was just a victim, like me....

I do not remember my sister ever being abused...she was his bio daughter, as was my brother...but I was expendable...

To this day, my mom and I have been strained, our relationship.  I do not hate her, I wish I did....do I love her?  I fucking don't know, she is my mom, am I suppose to love her, forgive her???

Even after she left "dad" and remarried my new step dad, Jim, who is a wonderful loving man, a good man...we still did not get along.  My mom never went to any of my sporting events growing up, she never went to school programs or anything...she never supported me, never.....she put clothes on my back, food in my mouth and a roof over my head...the basic essentials....but that was it...I was neglected emotionally my entire life, by her.  (it was my bio dad that even educated me on female periods, for god's sake...)

I am a constant reminder to her of her mistake (leaving my father and marrying Ronald)...I am a constant reminder of the abuse she endured and the fact that she did nothing to stop him from abusing me...all she cared about was her precious son, David.   My sister and I to this day refer to David as "The Golden Child"...all of my moms maternal love was saved for my brother...he was her protector, his infancy protected my mother from abuse...she is indebted to him...us daughters might as well fade away...in my moms eyes, David is the perfect and only child she has......

When I would talk about "seeing a plane crash" or "abusive memories" or whatever, my mom would say "oh you have such a vivid imagination" or "stop looking for attention" or flat out say "I was lying.."  she will not own anything....so, I believed for a long time all those memories were just me, making things up...until I found out the truth....I confronted my mother one time about Ronald abusing me...I was married with three small kids....when I told my mom and asked her why she let this happen, she jumped up out of the chair, ran into the bathroom and started crying hysterically....she never said a word.  My new dad, went in and consoled her then came out and said to me "we will never speak of this again."...the matter was closed.

Fast forward 25 yrs or so,  I am finding out through the internet that all my memories did in fact happen....we are finding physical proof..How do I confront my mother with the truth?  She is almost 80 yrs old now,  should I make the short rest of her life miserable by bringing up the past?  My dad said to never speak of the matter again...does it even matter if I say anything...will it help me?  will it make me feel better?  I already have my vindication, because of the facts...Will she even remember, being as she is so old now....should I just let sleeping dogs lie???

Even though I am in my 50's now, the memories and emotions and fear I felt then, still stings my heart and mind...they are just as raw as if I was that little girl again....I hate my mother.  But do I hate her enough to destroy what little time she has left on this earth, hasn't SHE suffered enough?  She has had to live with the guilt of "Ronald" too....do I really hate her enough to confront her again?  is my hesitation to do this, love?  do I love her???  fuck

My mother was never a mother to me.  I don't need one now, not at this point in my life.

the cemetery

I love cemeteries...I love the solitude of them, the quietness, the reverence...nobody will bother you in a cemetery, you can be alone...

When I was 7 or 8, I was outside my house playing with my Chrissy doll...I heard the car drive up and I knew my "dad" was home and would be drunk and mean....I did not want to hear him, listen to him or smell him...So I took off with my doll and went to a playground (was it by my school?)  not sure, but I was on the swing set...Before long, I saw my "dad", in his car, driving towards me...he was looking for me...I had left without telling anyone...

He saw me, I took off running...I was so scared, if he had had to come looking for me, I was in serious trouble...why?  I don't remember....but he was following me in the car and I thought in my little head he was trying to run over me....so I ran until I saw the cemetery....the Jordan Height Family Cemetery...the gate was chain locked but I squeezed through....I could hear him cussing and swearing and breathing...

I was so scared...but then I heard the voices "over here, over here", like a chorus of small children loudly whispering and running beside me...I ran to where they told me.  I hid behind a old Tombstone, the oldest in the park...Robert Height's tombstone 1826-66.

Source: Findagrave.com

My "dad" could not see me, and he could not get into the cemetery..so he left to look for me elsewhere or to just wait until I came home....I stayed gone until dark, until I figured in my head he would be passed out drunk....then I walked home...

I knew I would be in trouble...and if I had my doll with me, he would take it and destroy it as punishment...he did that to everything I played with...I couldn't let him destroy Chrissy, so I left her behind that tombstone, I left her with Robert Height.   

I went home,  my mind is a blank of what happened once I got back home....I have no memory...yet...but like all my memories it will come back to me....I do know that at some point I went back to that cemetery.  My Chrissy was still there...I got her back, took her home and hid her in the go-go boot in my closet....I protected Chrissy from him, as she has been protecting me....

That is when my cemetery love started...I went to other cemeteries in the area, I listened to the whispers in the breeze...I found that I could hear the dead children's voices, the really old people's voices, the ones that died centuries ago...I hear them....am I schizophrenic?  NO...I only hear the voices in the cemeteries, and not even all cemeteries...I cannot discern what they are trying to say......but I hear the distinct form of words in whispers, but I can't quite make it out....but instead of getting frustrated because I don't know what they are trying to say, I relax, their whispers relax and soothe me...

I only remember hearing and understanding what they were saying, the one time...when I was running for my life...in my mind, those voices guided me to a place "dad" could not see me nor get into....they led me to a safe place "over here"....the cemetery, my safe place...

Sea of Depression

It's hard to swim in a sea of depression.
The currents of emotion threaten to pull you under...
Waves of anxiety, frustration and sadness wash over you,
soaking you in despair.
Rip tides yank at your heart, as the salt water burns,
the open wounds of your soul...
the sea of depression ebbs and flows; rolls in, rolls out, 
calm and still one moment,
rough and violent the next.
the only answer is to float...
and let the waves of sadness carry you away....

___________________________________________________

Airplane crash

I have always had night terrors and horrible vivid nightmares....my entire life....one that was recurring was a dream of an airplane slamming to the ground, exploding and me running to try and help, but never quite being able to get to the downed plane....

If I was in a building or outside and an airplane passed above me but was really close to me, flying low, I would close my eyes, hold my breath and wait for it to crash.....

I did not fly in airplanes at all until a few months ago, when I had no choice....(My grandsons funeral)...

My mom use to say I "had the most wild imagination",  growing up when I would say I saw a plane crash, she would just throw her hands up and say "there is that imagination again, you tell the tallest tales..."  I would have other memories of my childhood, and my mom would discount ALL OF THEM....

If you read my blog, I write about those memories, and slowly each one of those memories are turning out to be in fact, true.

Photo archives from Grand Prairie Newspaper July 9, 1968 

I have a memory of a plane crashing, slamming into a house by ours next to a field...I remember a loud screaming engine sound,  the ground shuddering then a huge explosion....I remember running to the fence, climbing up the fence and staring at the carnage....I remember seeing the tail of the plane sticking straight up in the air, I remember my mom yelling at me and pulling me off the fence and into the house, I remember the phone ringing...I remember hearing the pilot ejected,  a huge fire started, and chaos....my mom said that never happened, that it is just part of my "tall tales"...

Yesterday, I was driving over an overpass, next to a airport runway, and a plane perfectly timed, flew over me to the runway....the plane was so close to my car, so loud, I totally freaked out.....next thing I knew I was miles away driving, with no fucking ideal what happened....I blacked out...

That night I was telling my friend about the experience and how I swear I saw a plane crash as a kid...I told him the few things I remembered which I mentioned above....So, my friend literally researched the area and approximate time year etc...Come to find out, in 1968 LTV Airport was in Grand Prairie texas.  They made certain types of jets...in 1968 one crashed in a neighborhood, my neighborhood (I would have been 6 yrs old, exactly my age at the time)..the pics archived, showed the tail sticking way up in the air, and the plane in a house and fire and smoke. The plane was a F-8 Crusader.(military aircraft)....FACTUAL EVENT...NOT MY WILD IMAGINATION....happened July 6, 1968, Saturday...I was playing in my backyard on that hot summer Texas day...

again my memories, childhood memories, are being proved as fact...can you imagine a six year old little girl, seeing a plane crash?  that has haunted my dreams for years, it has kept me from being able to fly comfortably...it again shows my mother refused to acknowledge my memory....by the way, the pilot who ejected, died...

When I lived in Oklahoma, the day of the Oklahoma City federal building bombing, I was standing in my yard...the explosion shook the ground...I lived 15 miles away from the blast....I was convinced an airplane had crashed......turned out to be a fertilizer bomb...but after that incident, the bombing, my plane crash dreams started back up with a vengeance...confusing me and haunting me....

I have so many fears, so many insecurities, so much lost time,  so many fuck horrible issues I have to work on, acknowledge, accept, then move on from....I cannot walk across a high bridge, nor drive across one, my skin crawls when I am a passenger in a car going over one, I usually cover my eyes and ears until we are over the bridge....WHY???  I don't know.....is there something in my memory stored away about a bridge and falling off a bridge, or driving off a bridge or a bridge collapsing?   I just fucking don't know, but the creepiness I feel is the same as the plane crashing, when I see bunny's,  fog, etc...and all those memory and feelings and fears have come to fruition.....I am petrified to have another fuck reality tragedy incident to have to come to terms with...

When will it end???

PS...since this was written, I had another memory about this.  I stated above that I climbed up on the fence to look at the plane, and my mother was yelling at me and pulled me off the fence and back into the house....it was not my mother after all, it was a spanish neighbor lady who came and got me....we went into a house mine or hers I don't remember...but my mom and brother were not at the house and I don't remember my sister being around...