Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows.
down, down, down, spiraling downward
swirling in a whirlwind
up and down, round and round
feelings caught up in a merry go round.
emotions on a roller coaster
vultures diving in and out, picking away the decay of her life.
rotten stinking flesh, peeling way from the bone
leaving it bare and white, naked
splinters are everywhere, piercing her skin, cutting away her flesh.
flesh that peels so easily, lays back and moans.
memories are like maggots, rummaging thru her brain
eating her alive and laying more eggs to produce
a never ending cycle of pain.
roaches roaming over bare meat, fragile flesh, searching for a bite.
a nibble, scurrying here and there, never seeming to tire.
somewhere a voice cries out for help
but no one listens
can't seem to kill the maggots or stop the roaches,
can't seem to care.
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Edge of Panic
She's been climbing up this ladder for some time now.
but she has never seemed to reach the top...until now.
she is trying to steady herself, but the height makes her dizzy.
she is on the edge of panic
there is no way down, but to jump
the ladder is full of ghosts, chasing her
coming after her, step by step, rung by rung.
she can't climb up anymore, a few steps, then she falls.
the pool seems so soft, gentle
if she falls head first, the water will break and welcome her.
If she falls flat, the impact will kill her...
she doesn't know what to do.
she is lost, she wants to jump, she wants to run back,
let the ghost have her.
what can she do...will she survive?
but she has never seemed to reach the top...until now.
she is trying to steady herself, but the height makes her dizzy.
she is on the edge of panic
there is no way down, but to jump
the ladder is full of ghosts, chasing her
coming after her, step by step, rung by rung.
she can't climb up anymore, a few steps, then she falls.
the pool seems so soft, gentle
if she falls head first, the water will break and welcome her.
If she falls flat, the impact will kill her...
she doesn't know what to do.
she is lost, she wants to jump, she wants to run back,
let the ghost have her.
what can she do...will she survive?
Unhappy with happiness
She's so unhappy with happiness.
uncomfortable, afraid it will end.
Never gives over totally,
always a hold back.
skeptical, Leary, suspicious
happiness leads to sorrow
she's been down that road before,
so unhappy in happiness
she searches for mourning,
it is more at home, in her heart.
sadness, feeling lost, cold.
characteristics of her being.
a familiarity with depression,
a raw sense of insecurity
happiness, to good to be true.
cannot last forever..
a temporary setback..
for the saddest of souls...
uncomfortable, afraid it will end.
Never gives over totally,
always a hold back.
skeptical, Leary, suspicious
happiness leads to sorrow
she's been down that road before,
so unhappy in happiness
she searches for mourning,
it is more at home, in her heart.
sadness, feeling lost, cold.
characteristics of her being.
a familiarity with depression,
a raw sense of insecurity
happiness, to good to be true.
cannot last forever..
a temporary setback..
for the saddest of souls...
I do no wrong/ Focus
The righteous swim in pools of sanctity.
while the immoral drown in their iniquities.
the moral hold their head up and say "I do no wrong"
while the sinners sag theirs in defeat.
honesty lies with the stricken, ashamed.
dishonesty reigns in the prideful and just "I do no wrong"
the church shakes a finger and condemns
the wounded hide their faces in shame.
righteous judgement is the church excuse, only...
the contrite in heart still feel the pain
so the lonely go off to nurse their past
while the upright pat themselves and say "I do no wrong"
fill the offering plates, prance and preen, so self-important
the wounded disappear and nobody notices...
don't interfere with our world, "we do no wrong".
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
focus
The pain, huge hands,
around her waist, squeezing...
playing into her emotions.
Laying in agony, cries that don't cease.
she can't breathe, no intake..
Struggling against hysteria,
let go, it hurts, she is hurting..
can't think, focus
feel the pain, don't cry out,
let it soothe her..
silent screams, silent agony..
while the immoral drown in their iniquities.
the moral hold their head up and say "I do no wrong"
while the sinners sag theirs in defeat.
honesty lies with the stricken, ashamed.
dishonesty reigns in the prideful and just "I do no wrong"
the church shakes a finger and condemns
the wounded hide their faces in shame.
righteous judgement is the church excuse, only...
the contrite in heart still feel the pain
so the lonely go off to nurse their past
while the upright pat themselves and say "I do no wrong"
fill the offering plates, prance and preen, so self-important
the wounded disappear and nobody notices...
don't interfere with our world, "we do no wrong".
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
focus
The pain, huge hands,
around her waist, squeezing...
playing into her emotions.
Laying in agony, cries that don't cease.
she can't breathe, no intake..
Struggling against hysteria,
let go, it hurts, she is hurting..
can't think, focus
feel the pain, don't cry out,
let it soothe her..
silent screams, silent agony..
White Flag and more
White flag
rejection, bitter betrayal, a slap in her face,
mortal heart wounds, fight for life.
a major emotional setback
doctor the wound, hide it in bandages.
try and heal again.
cruel manipulation, a bitter weapon
used over and over...
to cause mass destruction,
to her contrite heart.
save her from the battle,
protect her sensitive soul.
war with her no more, allow time to grow.
call a truce to strife
wave the white flag,
let her be at peace, please,
just once again..
--------------------------------------------------------------
Tripping
I feel the needle prick my arm.
I feel the heat going deep in my vein.
sit back and relax, my thoughts are floating
closing my eyes, I feel motion, gently rocking me.
I hear somebody singing, what a beautiful voice.
soft, gentle, far away.
nothing matters, I just smile lazily and breathe easy.
feels so good, I'm lost in the dream world,.
my own existence, my own madness.
my mind safely locked away, no one can find me.
reality is outside, I've closed the doors.
the warmth continues to move through my body.
it's like warm water being poured all over me.
I feel naked, safe, secure, happy
totally alone, I know I cannot get up..
I want to feel this way forever,
feeling blissful nothingness.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
No Defense
Memories of darkness, haunt me
they search me out and threaten
my security escapes me, I am left with no defense.
I can smell the sulfur, it clouds the air.
I can feel your breath upon me, burning.
please don't touch me, don't touch me there.,
as soon as you are here, you're gone.
leaving me in bitterness.
I fear your voice, my veins explode, silently you creep,
you fill my ears with screams, then laughter.
I'm left with memories.
take the pictures away, darkness bid me my wake,
to farewell.
rejection, bitter betrayal, a slap in her face,
mortal heart wounds, fight for life.
a major emotional setback
doctor the wound, hide it in bandages.
try and heal again.
cruel manipulation, a bitter weapon
used over and over...
to cause mass destruction,
to her contrite heart.
save her from the battle,
protect her sensitive soul.
war with her no more, allow time to grow.
call a truce to strife
wave the white flag,
let her be at peace, please,
just once again..
--------------------------------------------------------------
Tripping
I feel the needle prick my arm.
I feel the heat going deep in my vein.
sit back and relax, my thoughts are floating
closing my eyes, I feel motion, gently rocking me.
I hear somebody singing, what a beautiful voice.
soft, gentle, far away.
nothing matters, I just smile lazily and breathe easy.
feels so good, I'm lost in the dream world,.
my own existence, my own madness.
my mind safely locked away, no one can find me.
reality is outside, I've closed the doors.
the warmth continues to move through my body.
it's like warm water being poured all over me.
I feel naked, safe, secure, happy
totally alone, I know I cannot get up..
I want to feel this way forever,
feeling blissful nothingness.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
No Defense
Memories of darkness, haunt me
they search me out and threaten
my security escapes me, I am left with no defense.
I can smell the sulfur, it clouds the air.
I can feel your breath upon me, burning.
please don't touch me, don't touch me there.,
as soon as you are here, you're gone.
leaving me in bitterness.
I fear your voice, my veins explode, silently you creep,
you fill my ears with screams, then laughter.
I'm left with memories.
take the pictures away, darkness bid me my wake,
to farewell.
Puzzles and others
Puzzles
I try to put the pieces of my life together,
when I am almost done, I find one missing,
nothing like living as a puzzle,
than can never be fully completed.
I sometimes search under memories,
and behind experience, but the piece eludes me.
I hear the rain against the window,
so soft and hypnotic, I close my eyes, dream...
in the back of my mind, I get a glimpse,
or a missing memory, a missing puzzle
If I could only reach out and grab it..
the the dream is just too far.
reality awakens me, I am left feeling empty.
alone and sad, my life dismembered
by paths of shame that have robbed me of completeness.
Never to be whole, always searching,
for a lost cause, a lost puzzle piece...
---------------------------------------------------------------
Dreaming
There's a buzzing in the back of my head.
a full moon gazing through the window.
I am breathing in a heartbeat,
close my eyes, no control...
flies get louder and surround my mind,.
stinging, millions in a cloud of gray.
startled awake, my heart pounding on,
look around, I am okay
uneasiness pulls at my emotions
thru the curtains into the night, I see the moon.
relax, memories haunt my dreams
a lone fly lands on the window sill,
waiting for death..
------------------------------------------------------------------
Loneliness
Loneliness assails her,
every waking moment, it showers down.
as she stumbles in the puddle.
People always hurting her,
torturing her soul.
Unkempt promises, sugar-coated lies.
Is there a friend for her?
muddy water leaves footprints,
where she's been,
a path to the lonely.
where tears threaten to fall,
but pride keeps locked up.
so desperate, she is, for love, a friend
hoping for trust, crying when crushed.
keep the walls up,
where footprints won't find her...
I try to put the pieces of my life together,
when I am almost done, I find one missing,
nothing like living as a puzzle,
than can never be fully completed.
I sometimes search under memories,
and behind experience, but the piece eludes me.
I hear the rain against the window,
so soft and hypnotic, I close my eyes, dream...
in the back of my mind, I get a glimpse,
or a missing memory, a missing puzzle
If I could only reach out and grab it..
the the dream is just too far.
reality awakens me, I am left feeling empty.
alone and sad, my life dismembered
by paths of shame that have robbed me of completeness.
Never to be whole, always searching,
for a lost cause, a lost puzzle piece...
---------------------------------------------------------------
Dreaming
There's a buzzing in the back of my head.
a full moon gazing through the window.
I am breathing in a heartbeat,
close my eyes, no control...
flies get louder and surround my mind,.
stinging, millions in a cloud of gray.
startled awake, my heart pounding on,
look around, I am okay
uneasiness pulls at my emotions
thru the curtains into the night, I see the moon.
relax, memories haunt my dreams
a lone fly lands on the window sill,
waiting for death..
------------------------------------------------------------------
Loneliness
Loneliness assails her,
every waking moment, it showers down.
as she stumbles in the puddle.
People always hurting her,
torturing her soul.
Unkempt promises, sugar-coated lies.
Is there a friend for her?
muddy water leaves footprints,
where she's been,
a path to the lonely.
where tears threaten to fall,
but pride keeps locked up.
so desperate, she is, for love, a friend
hoping for trust, crying when crushed.
keep the walls up,
where footprints won't find her...
cover feelings and others
Painstaking numbness sometimes overcomes her in waves
she realizes there is no reality, in her mind..
But she feels no shock
she sees their lips move, but no sound reaches her ears.
so she imagines conversation..
then her numbness breaks, noises crush her senses
she struggles to understand the message.
but, she is only left standing, holding a secret,
one she does not understand.
she wishes for obscurity, experiencing knowledge,
that eats away at her self-esteem.
she searches for an oblivion to call her own,
the painstaking search for numbness..
------------------------------------------------------------------------
What do I think about death?
I think about a young girl dying my arms.
I see a young man, pleading for his life, as it was taken brutally from him.
I reflect on a bloody corpse being scraped off a road.
I watched my uncle being ravaged by cancer
as he waited to die.
What do I think about death?
I wonder how I've eluded it,
I should have been the young girl,
I should have been the young man, pleading..
I should have been the body on the road.
what do I think about death?
when will it be my turn?
How will I die?
will anyone miss me?
where will the guilt be?
I think about death....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cover Feelings
I cover feelings, I lie about pain.
I color over memories to spare others.
I smile, when I want to scream.
afraid of turmoil inside, I exaggerate happiness.
I present gaiety, when I wrap gloom
I lie about achievements, to cover disasters.
I lift others up, as I am falling...
I soothe others hurts, when I am bleeding inside.
I give to others, as I take from myself.
I try to protect family,
when I am so vulnerable.
I have such a brave front,
It hides the coward inside....
she realizes there is no reality, in her mind..
But she feels no shock
she sees their lips move, but no sound reaches her ears.
so she imagines conversation..
then her numbness breaks, noises crush her senses
she struggles to understand the message.
but, she is only left standing, holding a secret,
one she does not understand.
she wishes for obscurity, experiencing knowledge,
that eats away at her self-esteem.
she searches for an oblivion to call her own,
the painstaking search for numbness..
------------------------------------------------------------------------
What do I think about death?
I think about a young girl dying my arms.
I see a young man, pleading for his life, as it was taken brutally from him.
I reflect on a bloody corpse being scraped off a road.
I watched my uncle being ravaged by cancer
as he waited to die.
What do I think about death?
I wonder how I've eluded it,
I should have been the young girl,
I should have been the young man, pleading..
I should have been the body on the road.
what do I think about death?
when will it be my turn?
How will I die?
will anyone miss me?
where will the guilt be?
I think about death....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cover Feelings
I cover feelings, I lie about pain.
I color over memories to spare others.
I smile, when I want to scream.
afraid of turmoil inside, I exaggerate happiness.
I present gaiety, when I wrap gloom
I lie about achievements, to cover disasters.
I lift others up, as I am falling...
I soothe others hurts, when I am bleeding inside.
I give to others, as I take from myself.
I try to protect family,
when I am so vulnerable.
I have such a brave front,
It hides the coward inside....
He wakes
She sits behind the closed door.
Leaning on it to prevent it from opening.
Virtually every time she walks past him, he trips her,
or kicks her, or pinches her or slaps her head, and he always
stares at her...
When he pulls her onto his lap (especially when she is wearing
shorts or a dress) his hand rest between her legs on her crotch.
His fingers poke and tickle her private place...under the panties.
The horror ends when he is sleeping.
The horror begins when he awakes.
The horror never stops.
The horror fills her dreams.
The horror moves her forward...
S
Leaning on it to prevent it from opening.
Virtually every time she walks past him, he trips her,
or kicks her, or pinches her or slaps her head, and he always
stares at her...
When he pulls her onto his lap (especially when she is wearing
shorts or a dress) his hand rest between her legs on her crotch.
His fingers poke and tickle her private place...under the panties.
The horror ends when he is sleeping.
The horror begins when he awakes.
The horror never stops.
The horror fills her dreams.
The horror moves her forward...
S
Friday, April 17, 2020
note from teacher
One time the little girl was in her classroom at school...she was very sad inside, very hurt inside, very scared inside.
She approached her teacher and told her that her "dad" had died in a motorcycle crash............
The teacher was horrified and wrote a quick note for me to give to my mother. It was written in cursive so the little girl could not read it.
When she got home, mom was sitting at the table feeding the brother. She handed the note to her mom and went to her room, to put her school stuff away.
Later that night, when the dad got home, the mom handed him the teachers note to read. The note said something along the lines of "I am so sorry to hear of your husbands death. Please let me know if there is anything I can do." The silence in the house at that moment was deafening. The dad tore the note up into a thousand pieces and took the little girl into the bedroom and beat the living shit out of her.....he beat her so bad, she could not even go to school the next day...
During the beating he screamed "you want me dead?" "you are a little liar.." "you are ...(fill in the blanks) and he beat her within an inch of her life with his belt, leaving welts and bruises everywhere...even her face...
In that little girls mind, she was screaming for help when she told her teacher that....she was screaming for help when she exposed her bruised arms at vacation bible school...she screamed and screamed and NO ONE HEARD, NO ONE HELPED, NO ONE CARED, NO ONE EVEN NOTICED.
She was invisible.
S
She approached her teacher and told her that her "dad" had died in a motorcycle crash............
The teacher was horrified and wrote a quick note for me to give to my mother. It was written in cursive so the little girl could not read it.
When she got home, mom was sitting at the table feeding the brother. She handed the note to her mom and went to her room, to put her school stuff away.
Later that night, when the dad got home, the mom handed him the teachers note to read. The note said something along the lines of "I am so sorry to hear of your husbands death. Please let me know if there is anything I can do." The silence in the house at that moment was deafening. The dad tore the note up into a thousand pieces and took the little girl into the bedroom and beat the living shit out of her.....he beat her so bad, she could not even go to school the next day...
During the beating he screamed "you want me dead?" "you are a little liar.." "you are ...(fill in the blanks) and he beat her within an inch of her life with his belt, leaving welts and bruises everywhere...even her face...
In that little girls mind, she was screaming for help when she told her teacher that....she was screaming for help when she exposed her bruised arms at vacation bible school...she screamed and screamed and NO ONE HEARD, NO ONE HELPED, NO ONE CARED, NO ONE EVEN NOTICED.
She was invisible.
S
Vacation Bible School
Every summer, the neighborhood churches will host a vacation bible school for the kids...For most parents, this is a great way to get your kids out of the house...
Her mom was no exception. She sent the little girl to every VBS that was going on...
One night, the little girl was eating and she spilled her koolaide. Everyone knows Kool aide stains clothes...well the kool aide got all over her clothes and table top. The dad jumped out of his chair, knocking it over backwards and yanked her up by the arm yelling "you stupid idiot, look what you have done." he gripped her by the arms and shook and squeezed her so hard it left fingerprint marks and bruises all over her upper arm. She was immediately stripped and sent to her room. She did not get to finish her meal.
The next morning, her mom got her up and told her to get dressed for Vacation Bible School. Her arms hurt and when she looked at them, they had dark bruises all over, grip bruises....So she put on two shirts, one with long sleeves to cover the bruises.
Later, at VBS, she was sitting at a table with other kids doing crafts and her shirt sleeves kept getting in the way of the paint and glue, so she absently took off the shirt. And went about doing her project thingy.
One of the VBS leaders of her group, a man, a fucking member of this Baptist church, noticed the bruises. He asked her about them, but she said nothing...finally he said "you must have been a naughty little girl to get those bruises". and in her little head she agreed.
Did this fuck christian try and help her? did he report the bruises to the authorities? Did he ask her parents about them? NOOOOOOO, instead he called her a "naughty little girl" then proceeded to tell the class a Bible story.
She was invisible.
S
Her mom was no exception. She sent the little girl to every VBS that was going on...
One night, the little girl was eating and she spilled her koolaide. Everyone knows Kool aide stains clothes...well the kool aide got all over her clothes and table top. The dad jumped out of his chair, knocking it over backwards and yanked her up by the arm yelling "you stupid idiot, look what you have done." he gripped her by the arms and shook and squeezed her so hard it left fingerprint marks and bruises all over her upper arm. She was immediately stripped and sent to her room. She did not get to finish her meal.
The next morning, her mom got her up and told her to get dressed for Vacation Bible School. Her arms hurt and when she looked at them, they had dark bruises all over, grip bruises....So she put on two shirts, one with long sleeves to cover the bruises.
Later, at VBS, she was sitting at a table with other kids doing crafts and her shirt sleeves kept getting in the way of the paint and glue, so she absently took off the shirt. And went about doing her project thingy.
One of the VBS leaders of her group, a man, a fucking member of this Baptist church, noticed the bruises. He asked her about them, but she said nothing...finally he said "you must have been a naughty little girl to get those bruises". and in her little head she agreed.
Did this fuck christian try and help her? did he report the bruises to the authorities? Did he ask her parents about them? NOOOOOOO, instead he called her a "naughty little girl" then proceeded to tell the class a Bible story.
She was invisible.
S
The TV
So a little girl walked home from school. In entering her home, she noticed no one was there. She was all alone. So, she turned on the television set and sat on the floor in front of it, and started watching a program.
A little bit later, she heard a car pull up and a door slam. Two seconds later, the "dad" walks in, or more like stumbles in the house. Reeking of booze and peanuts and slurring his speech.
He saw the little girl in front of the TV, pretending to not see or hear him, just staring at the TV. He said something to hear, but she did not answer, she was scared and trying to be brave. He shouted at her, and still she didn't move...
So, the dad walked over and proceeded to kick in the TV screen. The TV exploded with sparks, noise, glass everywhere. The little girl jumped up and tried to run, but he grabbed her and shook her until she thought her neck would snap "when I talk to you, you listen and answer me!!" "you do not ignore me..." then the little girl was viciously slapped in the face, spun around and kicked hard on her bottom, causing her to fall forward into a heap on the floor. The dad grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her into the hallway, when her mom walked in with her sister and brother. The mom was horrified to see the TV shattered and smoking, she hugged the brother close to her chest and grabbed the sisters hand and went into the kitchen. The dad followed her.
The little girl ran to her room, slid under her bed and pretended she was in a faraway place.
He never came into her room that night...she was safe...until the next time...
S
A little bit later, she heard a car pull up and a door slam. Two seconds later, the "dad" walks in, or more like stumbles in the house. Reeking of booze and peanuts and slurring his speech.
He saw the little girl in front of the TV, pretending to not see or hear him, just staring at the TV. He said something to hear, but she did not answer, she was scared and trying to be brave. He shouted at her, and still she didn't move...
So, the dad walked over and proceeded to kick in the TV screen. The TV exploded with sparks, noise, glass everywhere. The little girl jumped up and tried to run, but he grabbed her and shook her until she thought her neck would snap "when I talk to you, you listen and answer me!!" "you do not ignore me..." then the little girl was viciously slapped in the face, spun around and kicked hard on her bottom, causing her to fall forward into a heap on the floor. The dad grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her into the hallway, when her mom walked in with her sister and brother. The mom was horrified to see the TV shattered and smoking, she hugged the brother close to her chest and grabbed the sisters hand and went into the kitchen. The dad followed her.
The little girl ran to her room, slid under her bed and pretended she was in a faraway place.
He never came into her room that night...she was safe...until the next time...
S
Thursday, April 16, 2020
NAME CALLING
So I have joined a few groups on facebook. They are for information, asking questions and learning certain things...
I asked a question on one group. Gave my opinion on why I asked and asked for other opinions and thoughts....
Many of the responses were good, and have given me alot of things to think about and mull over...its all good.
Then I start seeing posting where I am being called a "dipshit" and being told to "mind my own business"....seriously??? this group is to ask and learn, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU DO THAT WITHOUT ASKING QUESTIONS??
I did not diss anyone or make fun of anyone in my original question, yet many people felt the need to ridicule me and call me names....
Ordinarily I wouldn't give a shit about being called names...but goddamn, people calling me "dipshit"? for asking a fucking question???
MAYBE I AM A DIPSHIT...MAYBE I SHOULD NEVER ASK QUESTIONS. MAYBE I SHOULD KEEP MY FUCKING MOUTH SHUT ...
IF I WANT TO BE CALLED A DIPSHIT, I WILL CALL MY MOTHER.
S
I asked a question on one group. Gave my opinion on why I asked and asked for other opinions and thoughts....
Many of the responses were good, and have given me alot of things to think about and mull over...its all good.
Then I start seeing posting where I am being called a "dipshit" and being told to "mind my own business"....seriously??? this group is to ask and learn, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU DO THAT WITHOUT ASKING QUESTIONS??
I did not diss anyone or make fun of anyone in my original question, yet many people felt the need to ridicule me and call me names....
Ordinarily I wouldn't give a shit about being called names...but goddamn, people calling me "dipshit"? for asking a fucking question???
MAYBE I AM A DIPSHIT...MAYBE I SHOULD NEVER ASK QUESTIONS. MAYBE I SHOULD KEEP MY FUCKING MOUTH SHUT ...
IF I WANT TO BE CALLED A DIPSHIT, I WILL CALL MY MOTHER.
S
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Freak show
Welcome to the freak show..
step inside my head,
and meet the performers.
Settle in for the ride.
The lights and noise will abuse you..
The cast and crew will amuse you..
The scenes will confuse you,
and the voices will accuse you...
Welcome to the freak show,
go and tell your friends..
admission is free, so..you can
come on in and see...
the many I call ME.
S
step inside my head,
and meet the performers.
Settle in for the ride.
The lights and noise will abuse you..
The cast and crew will amuse you..
The scenes will confuse you,
and the voices will accuse you...
Welcome to the freak show,
go and tell your friends..
admission is free, so..you can
come on in and see...
the many I call ME.
S
2 yrs
I have now been living in Virginia 2 yrs. And in that time I have had 2 visitors. Both friends, one lives in North Carolina and one lives in Washington state. Both traveled far to visit me. Not one member of my family has visited. (My son moved me up here, he drove the U Haul) but he is the only one who has seen where I live.
The rest can't be bothered.
I visited my brothers in South Carolina, but they have not visited me in Virginia, nor have they even bothered to call me. I flew to Boston to see my sister, yet she has not come to see me...
I have not spoken to my mother in over 2 and half years (save for the few words we spoke when Gage was dying)...she has never picked up the phone to call, never texted, and refuses to talk to me when I am talking with my dad (stepdad). My dad called about once a week the first 6 mos I was gone, now I never hear from him either.
I am a fucking orphan....I am tired of making the effort to see them, to stay in contact with them...they OBVIOUSLY don't give a rats ass about me, so why should I give a rats ass about them???
The way my family treats me I might as well be locked up in prison somewhere...no phone calls, no visitors, no packages or mail, nothing.....I wish I could just say "fuck em" and be done with them, but I can't....deep inside I love them, miss them, and think about them all the time. But knowing they don't miss me, love me or think about me, is heartbreaking.
I realize everyone has their own lives and responsibilities, but really is it so hard and time consuming to drop a note or a quick call "hello, how are you, miss you, etc..." even my friends do that...
I guess family is not friends. My cousins traveled to South Carolina to see my brothers, did they come to see me??? NO, will they make a trip to see me? NO...but they will travel, go on cruises etc....
When will I finally get it in my thick stupid head that I don't matter to the Troutmans, the Trammells or any other family? I do have one cousin that texts and keeps up with me, but she is the family black sheep too...just like me.
But what is funny, when I was living in Oklahoma, my mother never called, never came to visit unless the grandsons were with me. My cousins never visited me, nor my brothers...and when i saw my sister, it was because she flew down for a specific event...not just to see me. I was just as lonely there in Oklahoma as I am here in Virginia. WHY IN THE FUCK WOULD I EXPECT ANY DIFFERENT BEHAVIOR???
I didn't matter there, and I don't matter here. If I were to die, they would never know unless they were told...
I also know that I am not the first kid who had a fucked family....but I did, and it hurts and I don't fucking care that I am not alone in abuse and neglect....but it fucking hurts all the same....
I have always been:
Not good enough
not smart enough
not pretty enough
not popular enough
not talented enough
not worth enough
not important enough
why should I expect them (family) to change now and come see me, contact me, let me know they haven't forgotten about me? I am just whining and feeling sorry for myself....I am being exactly what they expect me to be....a fucking ingrate who thinks only of herself and spreads outlandish stories about her childhood...I need to learn to shut my mouth, stuff the bad shit...and move on.......
I need to accept that they will not change, they will never love me as a daughter/sister/mother/grandma...they will never believe me...
they will always feel superior to me...they will always be important and me a waste of time.....I love how they can so easily write me off......erase me......forget me......unlove me.......if only I could return the favor.....
But I cannot unlove them...I cannot forget them....I cannot erase them....I cannot write them off.....my heart screams for them to accept and love me....doesn't their hearts scream????
I am getting really angry writing this....I feel the need to clench my fist and rage against them....I want to hit something so the sting of their rejection refocuses my attention...I want to prove that I am worthy, I am a human....I matter......but do I?
Do I really matter?? My friend says I matter greatly to him, but he had a life before me and he will continue to have a life without me...he has people who love him...he has legions of women who love and worship him.....I am just in his line of girls....if I was gone, another woman would step up and grab him....he will never be alone, he will always be loved....he matters.
she dont matter....she is trash...she is throw away dirt...she is nothing.....she could leave go far away and nobody would know or care....nobody would come looking for her....she is dog shit
The rest can't be bothered.
I visited my brothers in South Carolina, but they have not visited me in Virginia, nor have they even bothered to call me. I flew to Boston to see my sister, yet she has not come to see me...
I have not spoken to my mother in over 2 and half years (save for the few words we spoke when Gage was dying)...she has never picked up the phone to call, never texted, and refuses to talk to me when I am talking with my dad (stepdad). My dad called about once a week the first 6 mos I was gone, now I never hear from him either.
I am a fucking orphan....I am tired of making the effort to see them, to stay in contact with them...they OBVIOUSLY don't give a rats ass about me, so why should I give a rats ass about them???
The way my family treats me I might as well be locked up in prison somewhere...no phone calls, no visitors, no packages or mail, nothing.....I wish I could just say "fuck em" and be done with them, but I can't....deep inside I love them, miss them, and think about them all the time. But knowing they don't miss me, love me or think about me, is heartbreaking.
I realize everyone has their own lives and responsibilities, but really is it so hard and time consuming to drop a note or a quick call "hello, how are you, miss you, etc..." even my friends do that...
I guess family is not friends. My cousins traveled to South Carolina to see my brothers, did they come to see me??? NO, will they make a trip to see me? NO...but they will travel, go on cruises etc....
When will I finally get it in my thick stupid head that I don't matter to the Troutmans, the Trammells or any other family? I do have one cousin that texts and keeps up with me, but she is the family black sheep too...just like me.
But what is funny, when I was living in Oklahoma, my mother never called, never came to visit unless the grandsons were with me. My cousins never visited me, nor my brothers...and when i saw my sister, it was because she flew down for a specific event...not just to see me. I was just as lonely there in Oklahoma as I am here in Virginia. WHY IN THE FUCK WOULD I EXPECT ANY DIFFERENT BEHAVIOR???
I didn't matter there, and I don't matter here. If I were to die, they would never know unless they were told...
I also know that I am not the first kid who had a fucked family....but I did, and it hurts and I don't fucking care that I am not alone in abuse and neglect....but it fucking hurts all the same....
I have always been:
Not good enough
not smart enough
not pretty enough
not popular enough
not talented enough
not worth enough
not important enough
why should I expect them (family) to change now and come see me, contact me, let me know they haven't forgotten about me? I am just whining and feeling sorry for myself....I am being exactly what they expect me to be....a fucking ingrate who thinks only of herself and spreads outlandish stories about her childhood...I need to learn to shut my mouth, stuff the bad shit...and move on.......
I need to accept that they will not change, they will never love me as a daughter/sister/mother/grandma...they will never believe me...
they will always feel superior to me...they will always be important and me a waste of time.....I love how they can so easily write me off......erase me......forget me......unlove me.......if only I could return the favor.....
But I cannot unlove them...I cannot forget them....I cannot erase them....I cannot write them off.....my heart screams for them to accept and love me....doesn't their hearts scream????
I am getting really angry writing this....I feel the need to clench my fist and rage against them....I want to hit something so the sting of their rejection refocuses my attention...I want to prove that I am worthy, I am a human....I matter......but do I?
Do I really matter?? My friend says I matter greatly to him, but he had a life before me and he will continue to have a life without me...he has people who love him...he has legions of women who love and worship him.....I am just in his line of girls....if I was gone, another woman would step up and grab him....he will never be alone, he will always be loved....he matters.
she dont matter....she is trash...she is throw away dirt...she is nothing.....she could leave go far away and nobody would know or care....nobody would come looking for her....she is dog shit
I wish
I wish I could go back to Oklahoma and see my family. I wish that by seeing them, they would be happy to see me. I wish that my mother would wrap me in her arms and tell me she loves me...I wish my kids would hug me and tell me the same.
I wish I had the kind of family that loves, cherishes and supports eachother....I wish I could sit across a table from my mother and really talk. Talk about life, our struggles, our dreams, our memories...I wish my mother wanted me. I wish my mother would understand.
I wish my daddy was still alive...I have so much to tell him. So many memories to share with him...I miss his hugs...I miss his email every morning waiting for me on my computer. I miss the "safety" I felt when I was around him.
I wish my sister would truly love me and not treat me like a lesser person, but her equal. I wish my brothers would call me and chat. I wish we all loved eachother and made time to get together to visit.
I wish I was not an orphan. I wish I could share private girly things with my mother. I wish I could share with her my triumphs and my tragedies, pictures of my adventures, my life. I wish she cared.
I wish my grandson hadn't died. I wish I could hold him and play with him and love him more....a part of me died with him..
I wish I wasn't so alone....I wish I had been good enough for my mom, my siblings and children...but my wishes were dashed...
I wish I was good enough period. I wish I had been born to a different family, in a different time and in a different place. I wish I had had parents who loved me and protected me. I wish I had had a family where I mattered and I was important. I wish I had had a husband who listened to me and really tried to be my partner. A man who felt his wife was more important than his job or God. I wish I would have mattered to him....
I wish my life had never happened.
S
I wish I had the kind of family that loves, cherishes and supports eachother....I wish I could sit across a table from my mother and really talk. Talk about life, our struggles, our dreams, our memories...I wish my mother wanted me. I wish my mother would understand.
I wish my daddy was still alive...I have so much to tell him. So many memories to share with him...I miss his hugs...I miss his email every morning waiting for me on my computer. I miss the "safety" I felt when I was around him.
I wish my sister would truly love me and not treat me like a lesser person, but her equal. I wish my brothers would call me and chat. I wish we all loved eachother and made time to get together to visit.
I wish I was not an orphan. I wish I could share private girly things with my mother. I wish I could share with her my triumphs and my tragedies, pictures of my adventures, my life. I wish she cared.
I wish my grandson hadn't died. I wish I could hold him and play with him and love him more....a part of me died with him..
I wish I wasn't so alone....I wish I had been good enough for my mom, my siblings and children...but my wishes were dashed...
I wish I was good enough period. I wish I had been born to a different family, in a different time and in a different place. I wish I had had parents who loved me and protected me. I wish I had had a family where I mattered and I was important. I wish I had had a husband who listened to me and really tried to be my partner. A man who felt his wife was more important than his job or God. I wish I would have mattered to him....
I wish my life had never happened.
S
Monday, April 13, 2020
pearl earring
My newest stepdad is military. He traveled alot to different countries and would bring my mother gifts, usually jewelry. Once he brought her beautiful pearl stud earrings...
In high school, I wanted to "borrow" her pearl studs, I wanted to wear them, she never wore them, so I asked permission to wear them and she said okay.
well through the course of the day, one of the earrings fell off...I lost it...I was frantic to find it, I looked everywhere, retraced my steps...but it was lost for good..I had to tell my mom.
She was furious, to say the least. "I knew you couldn't be trusted", "you lose everything, you are good for nothing", "you don't know how to take care of anything, you disgust me." etc...was my mom...
I felt so bad, I started saving my money, I was going to buy her new real pearl earring studs, to replace the one I lost...I worked my ass off saving money. When I had enough, I went and bought her some new pearl studs.
I was excited to give them to her....so that night after she came home from work, I went into her bedroom and gave them to her...
She looked at them, then at me, and she threw those earrings at me..."I don't want those, you wasted your money...now get out of my room"...
I was beyond crushed...I felt bad for losing the first pair, and wanted to make it up to her so bad....but my mother would not have it....she hated me, would not accept my gift and apology, but made me feel like shit all over again.
I left the earrings on the floor and walked out....later I found those earrings in the trash.....the earrings I worked and saved money for, the gift I thought my mother would appreciate, thrown away like garbage, thrown away like me.....
I am nothing but garbage.....
S
In high school, I wanted to "borrow" her pearl studs, I wanted to wear them, she never wore them, so I asked permission to wear them and she said okay.
well through the course of the day, one of the earrings fell off...I lost it...I was frantic to find it, I looked everywhere, retraced my steps...but it was lost for good..I had to tell my mom.
She was furious, to say the least. "I knew you couldn't be trusted", "you lose everything, you are good for nothing", "you don't know how to take care of anything, you disgust me." etc...was my mom...
I felt so bad, I started saving my money, I was going to buy her new real pearl earring studs, to replace the one I lost...I worked my ass off saving money. When I had enough, I went and bought her some new pearl studs.
I was excited to give them to her....so that night after she came home from work, I went into her bedroom and gave them to her...
She looked at them, then at me, and she threw those earrings at me..."I don't want those, you wasted your money...now get out of my room"...
I was beyond crushed...I felt bad for losing the first pair, and wanted to make it up to her so bad....but my mother would not have it....she hated me, would not accept my gift and apology, but made me feel like shit all over again.
I left the earrings on the floor and walked out....later I found those earrings in the trash.....the earrings I worked and saved money for, the gift I thought my mother would appreciate, thrown away like garbage, thrown away like me.....
I am nothing but garbage.....
S
the pig
When she was a teenager, she had a boyfriend. But not your normal boyfriend...and this guy was the son of a freak....a deacon of a baptist church by day, and a fucking satanist by night.
One evening, her boyfriend invited her to a function at the church. It was really late in the evening after midnight, but she didn't care, she wanted out of the house...
He picked her up and handed her a drink...she drank it, as they drove....by the time they got to the church and inside, she started feeling woozy, her drink had been spiked.
The rest of the night is a dream.....
She was stripped naked and a red hooded cape was placed on her, and she entered a room, walked down an aisle and was laid on a table (a table that was used for the Lords Supper on sundays)...
Thru the drug haze, she could discern others in the room, all hooded, maybe a dozen or more....but she was so tired and just wanted to close her eyes and sleep....
she could hear chanting, soft chanting, she heard a door open and then close...the chanting continued, louder than before...her eyes were so heavy..the door opened again and closed..she heard a baby squeal...a baby??
The chanting was getting louder and louder, but to her, it sounded so far away.....
The boyfriends dad stepped forward, the deacon, he loomed above her...she closed her eyes as he was handed a blanket that seemed to be moving on its own....weird...she heard a far off "scream" then felt warm liquid dripping onto her belly, and her legs, her chest, her vagina....she slipped away to unconsciousness....
The following nights, days, years, decades, she dreamed about that night....was it a dream? Was that a baby, and infant, that had been killed and its blood dripped on her??? she remembered the "scream", the "squirming in the blanket", the small size of the blanket.....then the memory was gone....
The ritual was a fertility ritual....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For years, she was very uncomfortable around infants, babies...even though she birthed two, the infancy was not fun....she suffered with post partum depression, she suffered from fear of handling an infant...she would cringe inside when a baby whimpered, and she didn't know why??? when she heard a rabbit squeal or a pig or anything else with a high pitched squeal, her skin would begin to crawl and she would feel panicky...why?
Finally, years and years later, her memories have stepped forward...and she shared this horrible memory of a baby being sacrificed on her belly....."did this really happen?" she could not be sure, or was it a figment of her imagination?
The person she told, did some research, and they found that in countries around the world, in america even, sacrifices in the name of god were common...except they used piglets...baby pigs....
Her world came crashing down...flooded relief that it was a pig and not a baby, yet supreme anger and rage that a pig was butchered, that she was led to believe it was a baby....she raged that because of that experience she could not love her own babies the way a mother should...she was lied too, she was used. She was again manipulated with drugs...what a fucking pussy........
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That baptist church is still standing today, still in use...still a fucking mockery of a religion....but the boyfriend is now sitting in prison, for the rest of his life for child sexual abuse, ritualistic abuse and failure for not registering as a sex offender....He is a fuck wad and now somebody's bitch in prison....
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S
One evening, her boyfriend invited her to a function at the church. It was really late in the evening after midnight, but she didn't care, she wanted out of the house...
He picked her up and handed her a drink...she drank it, as they drove....by the time they got to the church and inside, she started feeling woozy, her drink had been spiked.
The rest of the night is a dream.....
She was stripped naked and a red hooded cape was placed on her, and she entered a room, walked down an aisle and was laid on a table (a table that was used for the Lords Supper on sundays)...
Thru the drug haze, she could discern others in the room, all hooded, maybe a dozen or more....but she was so tired and just wanted to close her eyes and sleep....
she could hear chanting, soft chanting, she heard a door open and then close...the chanting continued, louder than before...her eyes were so heavy..the door opened again and closed..she heard a baby squeal...a baby??
The chanting was getting louder and louder, but to her, it sounded so far away.....
The boyfriends dad stepped forward, the deacon, he loomed above her...she closed her eyes as he was handed a blanket that seemed to be moving on its own....weird...she heard a far off "scream" then felt warm liquid dripping onto her belly, and her legs, her chest, her vagina....she slipped away to unconsciousness....
The following nights, days, years, decades, she dreamed about that night....was it a dream? Was that a baby, and infant, that had been killed and its blood dripped on her??? she remembered the "scream", the "squirming in the blanket", the small size of the blanket.....then the memory was gone....
The ritual was a fertility ritual....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For years, she was very uncomfortable around infants, babies...even though she birthed two, the infancy was not fun....she suffered with post partum depression, she suffered from fear of handling an infant...she would cringe inside when a baby whimpered, and she didn't know why??? when she heard a rabbit squeal or a pig or anything else with a high pitched squeal, her skin would begin to crawl and she would feel panicky...why?
Finally, years and years later, her memories have stepped forward...and she shared this horrible memory of a baby being sacrificed on her belly....."did this really happen?" she could not be sure, or was it a figment of her imagination?
The person she told, did some research, and they found that in countries around the world, in america even, sacrifices in the name of god were common...except they used piglets...baby pigs....
Her world came crashing down...flooded relief that it was a pig and not a baby, yet supreme anger and rage that a pig was butchered, that she was led to believe it was a baby....she raged that because of that experience she could not love her own babies the way a mother should...she was lied too, she was used. She was again manipulated with drugs...what a fucking pussy........
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That baptist church is still standing today, still in use...still a fucking mockery of a religion....but the boyfriend is now sitting in prison, for the rest of his life for child sexual abuse, ritualistic abuse and failure for not registering as a sex offender....He is a fuck wad and now somebody's bitch in prison....
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Dissaciative
DISSOCIATIVE;
disconnection and lack of continuity between thoughts,
memories, surroundings, actions, and identity.
SYMPTOMS;
-amnesia
-depersonalization (feeling disconnected from your
own body.
-derealisation (feeling disconnected from the
world around you.
-identity confusion ( you might not have a sense of
who you are.)
All my life, I have never felt like I belong, I have always felt like I was on the outside looking in...there, but not really there...I would have constant feelings of DeJaVu . I never felt smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough, I never felt enough of anything to actually fit in to anything....
Its like being in a dream. I never felt like I was part of society, more like a by-product of society. I was never important enough, skilled enough, whatever....I have always felt inadequate or like I don't matter...I have always been invisible.
I would lose huge blocks of time, but just blow it off...I forgot.
I have no ideal who I am? what I am? why I am...am I a wife? a daughter? a lover? a submissive? a child? a person?
Am I heterosexual or bisexual....
I have flit here and there, changing myself, trying to figure out who I am, and failing miserably every fucking time.
I have felt disconnected from life and reality and my environment my entire life.....
I have always felt like "everyone hates me" and they are only nice because they have to be, or just saying nice things because they are expected too...I always feel like I am a fucking lie, not real...alien.
Its so hard to explain feeling disconnected...reality seems distant.
NOW, that I am realizing my alters, things are becoming more clear to me, explanations are being given, and the feeling of "disconnect" is getting better....
S
disconnection and lack of continuity between thoughts,
memories, surroundings, actions, and identity.
SYMPTOMS;
-amnesia
-depersonalization (feeling disconnected from your
own body.
-derealisation (feeling disconnected from the
world around you.
-identity confusion ( you might not have a sense of
who you are.)
All my life, I have never felt like I belong, I have always felt like I was on the outside looking in...there, but not really there...I would have constant feelings of DeJaVu . I never felt smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough, I never felt enough of anything to actually fit in to anything....
Its like being in a dream. I never felt like I was part of society, more like a by-product of society. I was never important enough, skilled enough, whatever....I have always felt inadequate or like I don't matter...I have always been invisible.
I would lose huge blocks of time, but just blow it off...I forgot.
I have no ideal who I am? what I am? why I am...am I a wife? a daughter? a lover? a submissive? a child? a person?
Am I heterosexual or bisexual....
I have flit here and there, changing myself, trying to figure out who I am, and failing miserably every fucking time.
I have felt disconnected from life and reality and my environment my entire life.....
I have always felt like "everyone hates me" and they are only nice because they have to be, or just saying nice things because they are expected too...I always feel like I am a fucking lie, not real...alien.
Its so hard to explain feeling disconnected...reality seems distant.
NOW, that I am realizing my alters, things are becoming more clear to me, explanations are being given, and the feeling of "disconnect" is getting better....
S
Ally's world
So far, Ally, I believe, is my most active alter. She is a 6-9yr old girl. She is my stress reliever, when I am stressed she will front, so I can play and relax...all she wants to do is play with her dolls and laugh....
When I was a little girl, I had very few toys...and when I got into trouble those toys were taken away and destroyed...I managed to keep my Chrissy doll, because I would hide her in my mothers boots...same thing with pets...I had a puppy, which was killed, I had a rabbit, which was killed, and I had a duck, which was killed, right before my eyes...and they were not accidents...they were deliberate acts...murder
Here in Virginia, I now have my own space...I don't share with anyone, I live alone. I can do whatever I want, when I want...I can play, I can let Ally play without being discovered by other people. And she loves to play.
My friend, made a dollhouse for my Chrissy dolls. It is set up in my bedroom, there are two rooms, furniture, clothes etc...this is where Ally plays when she is fronting...the two dolls are representative of "me and my sister"....alot of her play is motivated by her experience. In the beginning Chrissy was very mean to Dina (my dolls), she would punish her by making her stay in bed, while Chrissy gets to play...She relives memories in her playtime.
Over time, my advocate has been working with Ally to be more "nice" to Dina, to be a good mama and not "portray" the mother she really had....Ally is getting better, she is learning that my apartment is her safe place and nobody is going to take away her dolls and toys...
Chrissy and Dina house
But Ally has another safe place to play. At the advocates house. He set up a Barbie doll house, bought her barbies, clothes, built her furniture and gave her her own room to play. Leaving the dollhouse up all the time. When Ally fronts at his house, she plays with the barbies as if she is at her uncles house. She has horses, and lots of barbies, and baby barbies...the house is full of people, laughing, and living...I believe this play is based on the few happy times when she was away from her mother and fuckwad stepdad, and was with her bio-dad. He had a big loving family.....and when she plays with the Barbie dolls, she is recreating a happy time...
I do not know when she is playing...sometimes I get so tired and I lay down to take a nap...when I wake up from my nap, alot of times I will see that she has been playing, while I was "sleeping"....and if asked where Sparrow is, she will respond "sleeping or taking a nap". My advocate has filmed her, and interacted with her when she fronts...she trusts him and calls him "daddy".
I believe that Ally and I integrate the most, out of all the other alters....Ally is a 6 yr old girl. However, she wanted to be 9. Because when I was 9, my mother left that fucking monster of a husband and I was then safe from him and his abuse...so Ally wanted to be 9, because then she knew she would be safe....but her mind is only like 6 yrs old...my advocate knew she needed to feel safe, so he gave her a birthday party. Cake with 9 candles, cards, presents etc...and Ally became 9 yrs old...the nightmares stopped, she fronts and plays more, she does not look over her shoulder and is not fearful anymore...My advocate picked August 14, as her birthday, as we do not know when she was created, the date.
She acts 6, but will tell you she is 9.. haha
With Ally, I am able to finally be the little girl that can play, that is normal, and is not afraid all the time...she is finally getting to be a kid.
S
When I was a little girl, I had very few toys...and when I got into trouble those toys were taken away and destroyed...I managed to keep my Chrissy doll, because I would hide her in my mothers boots...same thing with pets...I had a puppy, which was killed, I had a rabbit, which was killed, and I had a duck, which was killed, right before my eyes...and they were not accidents...they were deliberate acts...murder
Here in Virginia, I now have my own space...I don't share with anyone, I live alone. I can do whatever I want, when I want...I can play, I can let Ally play without being discovered by other people. And she loves to play.
My friend, made a dollhouse for my Chrissy dolls. It is set up in my bedroom, there are two rooms, furniture, clothes etc...this is where Ally plays when she is fronting...the two dolls are representative of "me and my sister"....alot of her play is motivated by her experience. In the beginning Chrissy was very mean to Dina (my dolls), she would punish her by making her stay in bed, while Chrissy gets to play...She relives memories in her playtime.
Over time, my advocate has been working with Ally to be more "nice" to Dina, to be a good mama and not "portray" the mother she really had....Ally is getting better, she is learning that my apartment is her safe place and nobody is going to take away her dolls and toys...
But Ally has another safe place to play. At the advocates house. He set up a Barbie doll house, bought her barbies, clothes, built her furniture and gave her her own room to play. Leaving the dollhouse up all the time. When Ally fronts at his house, she plays with the barbies as if she is at her uncles house. She has horses, and lots of barbies, and baby barbies...the house is full of people, laughing, and living...I believe this play is based on the few happy times when she was away from her mother and fuckwad stepdad, and was with her bio-dad. He had a big loving family.....and when she plays with the Barbie dolls, she is recreating a happy time...
I do not know when she is playing...sometimes I get so tired and I lay down to take a nap...when I wake up from my nap, alot of times I will see that she has been playing, while I was "sleeping"....and if asked where Sparrow is, she will respond "sleeping or taking a nap". My advocate has filmed her, and interacted with her when she fronts...she trusts him and calls him "daddy".
I believe that Ally and I integrate the most, out of all the other alters....Ally is a 6 yr old girl. However, she wanted to be 9. Because when I was 9, my mother left that fucking monster of a husband and I was then safe from him and his abuse...so Ally wanted to be 9, because then she knew she would be safe....but her mind is only like 6 yrs old...my advocate knew she needed to feel safe, so he gave her a birthday party. Cake with 9 candles, cards, presents etc...and Ally became 9 yrs old...the nightmares stopped, she fronts and plays more, she does not look over her shoulder and is not fearful anymore...My advocate picked August 14, as her birthday, as we do not know when she was created, the date.
She acts 6, but will tell you she is 9.. haha
With Ally, I am able to finally be the little girl that can play, that is normal, and is not afraid all the time...she is finally getting to be a kid.
S
Friday, April 10, 2020
Sad little bird
Sometimes when I fly,
I am able to soar over the mountains of shit,
that stink up my life.
I zoom above the rotten decay.
My head is clear and my thoughts, pure.
But, often during my flight,
the clouds thicken and blur my vision.
So I dip and sway, looking for a break in the clouds.
I begin to smell the rotten decay, as I dip
lower and lower until my wings scrape
the tragic debris of my life where I can no longer fly,
and I am no longer free.
I become the sad little bird who has lost her wings.
Lost her way,
and lost her joy...
S
I am able to soar over the mountains of shit,
that stink up my life.
I zoom above the rotten decay.
My head is clear and my thoughts, pure.
But, often during my flight,
the clouds thicken and blur my vision.
So I dip and sway, looking for a break in the clouds.
I begin to smell the rotten decay, as I dip
lower and lower until my wings scrape
the tragic debris of my life where I can no longer fly,
and I am no longer free.
I become the sad little bird who has lost her wings.
Lost her way,
and lost her joy...
S
Thursday, April 9, 2020
FUCKING DEAD
MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE I HAVE BEEN TO BLAME FOR EVERYTHING. I AM THE BITCH, THE COMPLAINER, THE TROUBLE MAKER, THE SHIT FOR BRAINS, THE EXPENDABLE ONES.
ADULTHOOD, NOTHING THE FUCK HAS CHANGED. I DO NOT GET TO DEFEND MYSELF WITH MY VOICE...I JUST HAVE TO BEND OVER AND TAKE IT IN THE ASS.....
FUCKING SHIT TIRED OF IT....WHERE IS MY VOICE????
WHY AM I THE PROBLEM???
I MIND MY OWN BUSINESS, I TRY TO DO GOOD, TO HARM NO ONE, TO BE A GOOD NEIGHBOR, A GOOD PERSON....WHAT A FUCKING WASTE OF ENERGY.
MAYBE I SHOULD JUST BE FUCKING WHITE TRASH LIKE MY NEIGHBORS...AT LEAST THEN, I WILL BE HEARD.
I AM SO FUCKING BLOODY TIRED OF THE PERSECUTION...IT WILL NEVER END UNTIL I AM FUCKING DEAD...SO BE IT...
ADULTHOOD, NOTHING THE FUCK HAS CHANGED. I DO NOT GET TO DEFEND MYSELF WITH MY VOICE...I JUST HAVE TO BEND OVER AND TAKE IT IN THE ASS.....
FUCKING SHIT TIRED OF IT....WHERE IS MY VOICE????
WHY AM I THE PROBLEM???
I MIND MY OWN BUSINESS, I TRY TO DO GOOD, TO HARM NO ONE, TO BE A GOOD NEIGHBOR, A GOOD PERSON....WHAT A FUCKING WASTE OF ENERGY.
MAYBE I SHOULD JUST BE FUCKING WHITE TRASH LIKE MY NEIGHBORS...AT LEAST THEN, I WILL BE HEARD.
I AM SO FUCKING BLOODY TIRED OF THE PERSECUTION...IT WILL NEVER END UNTIL I AM FUCKING DEAD...SO BE IT...
Wednesday, April 8, 2020
Sammy
Last night, my advocate and I visited with two friends. We had pizza and watched a movie, and I cut his friends hair. As I was getting ready to cut his hair, he put some music on to listen too.
I don't remember what I am about to tell you, my advocate told me.
As Chris Cornell was playing over the TV, and I was just about to cut his hair, Sammy fronted. She started to dance, to drift off into the music....my advocate saw her, and softly said "Sammy", then he "signed" no. She obeyed and responded with "ok" in sign, my advocate signed "thank you" and she signed back "welcome"....
Then Sparrow was back, and cut his hair. Again, I was totally unaware of the moments before when Sammy fronted.
The two friends, never saw her, never realized it was "her" that was dancing...this was the first time an alter fronted in front of "strangers" got caught and acquiesced. Later, my advocate explained to the friends what had happened. One friend said he heard the name "Sammy" and saw the signing and "wondered" what was going on, but nothing more....
This is how my alters have been around for so long...and the reason I was not aware of them, because they were "me" and people who know me, think, "well that is just Melissa, she is quirky..."
How many others people are out there being "quirky" but really have alters???
I know that when my family start finding out about me, then I am sure they will be thinking "awe, that explains that..." at least I hope so...
This is why "trust" is so important to alters...if they can trust the people around them, then they are more relaxed and natural. Sammy trust my advocate. She did his bidding (her dancing was not appropriate for the situation, cutting hair"...and everything was cool.
S
PS. I think Sammy got her name from a Siamese cat I had as a child. The cat was called Sammy.
I don't remember what I am about to tell you, my advocate told me.
As Chris Cornell was playing over the TV, and I was just about to cut his hair, Sammy fronted. She started to dance, to drift off into the music....my advocate saw her, and softly said "Sammy", then he "signed" no. She obeyed and responded with "ok" in sign, my advocate signed "thank you" and she signed back "welcome"....
Then Sparrow was back, and cut his hair. Again, I was totally unaware of the moments before when Sammy fronted.
The two friends, never saw her, never realized it was "her" that was dancing...this was the first time an alter fronted in front of "strangers" got caught and acquiesced. Later, my advocate explained to the friends what had happened. One friend said he heard the name "Sammy" and saw the signing and "wondered" what was going on, but nothing more....
This is how my alters have been around for so long...and the reason I was not aware of them, because they were "me" and people who know me, think, "well that is just Melissa, she is quirky..."
How many others people are out there being "quirky" but really have alters???
I know that when my family start finding out about me, then I am sure they will be thinking "awe, that explains that..." at least I hope so...
This is why "trust" is so important to alters...if they can trust the people around them, then they are more relaxed and natural. Sammy trust my advocate. She did his bidding (her dancing was not appropriate for the situation, cutting hair"...and everything was cool.
S
PS. I think Sammy got her name from a Siamese cat I had as a child. The cat was called Sammy.
Am I ready?
So yesterday, I dipped my toe into the water, and came out to two of my friends about the DID. I was so nervous, scared, and my hands shook. I have an advocate who was with me, and did all the explaining as I really don't know these alters...
As we all talked, one friend started asking questions about the validity of DID, expressing doubt...not because he thought I was lying, but he just don't know anything about DID except what Hollywood movies portray....
Some of his questions and comments really stung me, stung them, I think...cause I had a surge of anger so much I wanted to jump out of my chair and punch him in the face.....
But, I didn't, and the anger urge, passed....
If I am going to become more open and public about having multiple personalities, I have to be able to handle the nay sayers and those who ridicule or dismiss me...because I know there will be a landfall of those....
My friend, was not trying to diss me or put me down, he just doesn't understand and he was being honest and I fucking appreciate that so much. The evening ended up being a wonderful evening.
Later that night, I was talking with my advocate and I told him about the surge of rage and urge to punch the friend in the nose..as we talked it became apparent that that urge was my alter "Sophie" she was trying to front, but I believe "Lilly" held her back...because Lilly was over my shoulder most of the conversation....I believe "Lilly" is the palace guard of all the alters...but I am not sure...
Also, when I feel that rage feeling, I feel it in my hands, and I clench my fists...I never realized I clench my fists....I believe, maybe, that is the tell-tell sign of "Sophie", the clenching of my fists....All the alters have tell-tell signs....
Lilly, fronts in silhouette form just behind my right shoulder
Ally, I get an overwhelming urge to giggle, deep in my chest
Sammy, dances
Sophie, "clenches fist?"
Kaos, I don't know, I am still learning about her....
(I do not choose their names, these are the names they gave themselves). Kaos is a very excitable alter, she fronts quickly and and leaves as quick as flipping a switch..she is very "wound up".
She may have gotten her name from watching the show "Get Smart" which ran on television in the 60's...but don't know for sure, other than alters are created in childhood...and that show was very popular at the time of my severe abuse as a child....but this is only a working theory, as my advocate has not really been able to talk with her...
So overall, the first coming out to friends, went good and I am glad we did it. Hopefully this will help me get a thicker skin so I can deal with those who think I am "faking" or whatever...
S
As we all talked, one friend started asking questions about the validity of DID, expressing doubt...not because he thought I was lying, but he just don't know anything about DID except what Hollywood movies portray....
Some of his questions and comments really stung me, stung them, I think...cause I had a surge of anger so much I wanted to jump out of my chair and punch him in the face.....
But, I didn't, and the anger urge, passed....
If I am going to become more open and public about having multiple personalities, I have to be able to handle the nay sayers and those who ridicule or dismiss me...because I know there will be a landfall of those....
My friend, was not trying to diss me or put me down, he just doesn't understand and he was being honest and I fucking appreciate that so much. The evening ended up being a wonderful evening.
Later that night, I was talking with my advocate and I told him about the surge of rage and urge to punch the friend in the nose..as we talked it became apparent that that urge was my alter "Sophie" she was trying to front, but I believe "Lilly" held her back...because Lilly was over my shoulder most of the conversation....I believe "Lilly" is the palace guard of all the alters...but I am not sure...
Also, when I feel that rage feeling, I feel it in my hands, and I clench my fists...I never realized I clench my fists....I believe, maybe, that is the tell-tell sign of "Sophie", the clenching of my fists....All the alters have tell-tell signs....
Lilly, fronts in silhouette form just behind my right shoulder
Ally, I get an overwhelming urge to giggle, deep in my chest
Sammy, dances
Sophie, "clenches fist?"
Kaos, I don't know, I am still learning about her....
(I do not choose their names, these are the names they gave themselves). Kaos is a very excitable alter, she fronts quickly and and leaves as quick as flipping a switch..she is very "wound up".
She may have gotten her name from watching the show "Get Smart" which ran on television in the 60's...but don't know for sure, other than alters are created in childhood...and that show was very popular at the time of my severe abuse as a child....but this is only a working theory, as my advocate has not really been able to talk with her...
So overall, the first coming out to friends, went good and I am glad we did it. Hopefully this will help me get a thicker skin so I can deal with those who think I am "faking" or whatever...
S
Monday, April 6, 2020
Describing Lilly
I cannot really describe what my alters look like, more in the order of "how they behave"...
The only alter I can "kinda" see is Lilly. But, she is just behind my right shoulder, just barely out of my peripheral vision. But I get the image of her being really still, about as tall as me, maybe a tad taller, yet floating just above the earth..I get the impression of long straight hair, dark, below the shoulders. I also can sometimes see the outline of the side of her jaw, as if a sun ray hit her at just the split second I actually see the outline of her face...but not quite...she does not speak...she is watching me...my sentinel of sorts...or as my advocate calls her, the Palace Guard.
Lilly only presents when I am scared or if she perceives I am in danger...Or if I am really hurt and extremely emotional, like that....I think Lilly was my first "babysitter".......literally.
The other alter I can feel pretty strongly is Ally. I do not see her, but I feel her giddiness, I feel her happiness, I feel like I need to giggle...this is Ally, my apparently very happy little girl.
I get the impression Lilly is not a happy alter, at all. She is very direct and to the point, short on words, and don't give a rats ass who or what you are. She does her thing, deal with it...then she moves on. Her mentality is very straightforward, and she is, I guess, the boss of all the others.....??? Not sure on that, it is very confusing...
S
The only alter I can "kinda" see is Lilly. But, she is just behind my right shoulder, just barely out of my peripheral vision. But I get the image of her being really still, about as tall as me, maybe a tad taller, yet floating just above the earth..I get the impression of long straight hair, dark, below the shoulders. I also can sometimes see the outline of the side of her jaw, as if a sun ray hit her at just the split second I actually see the outline of her face...but not quite...she does not speak...she is watching me...my sentinel of sorts...or as my advocate calls her, the Palace Guard.
Lilly only presents when I am scared or if she perceives I am in danger...Or if I am really hurt and extremely emotional, like that....I think Lilly was my first "babysitter".......literally.
The other alter I can feel pretty strongly is Ally. I do not see her, but I feel her giddiness, I feel her happiness, I feel like I need to giggle...this is Ally, my apparently very happy little girl.
I get the impression Lilly is not a happy alter, at all. She is very direct and to the point, short on words, and don't give a rats ass who or what you are. She does her thing, deal with it...then she moves on. Her mentality is very straightforward, and she is, I guess, the boss of all the others.....??? Not sure on that, it is very confusing...
S
Saturday, April 4, 2020
Fear
I am so fearful of opening up to others about my alters...
fear of rejection
fearful of being called a liar
fearful of what others will think
fearful that I will become a "joke"
fearful of the damage they cause
fearful of being locked up..
fear of being judged...
fear of pushing away family
fear of hurting my family
I know their are so many others with my condition..do they feel the same way? did they feel that way? do they even tell other people, or do they keep it quiet?
I have to let others know, because some of my alters post on my social media, and it is frightening some of what they post...many people don't understand why I post the way I do....I don't want anyone thinking I am just looking for attention or compliments...that can't be further from the truth....I just want to be validated and believed and treated with respect, like I try and treat others.
But one thing I have to make clear:
I do not talk to my alters
I do not hear them talking in my head
I am not aware when they are out
I lose so much time
I get confused very easily
they do not come out all at the same time
I am learning the triggers (that bring them out)
I cannot bring them out, by just "calling them", doesn't work that way
I have no control on what they say or do
I do not physically see them, in my head, but I can kinda see a silhouette off my right shoulder of one of the alters...
I can feel when my little girl wants out, I feel a giggle deep in my chest...that is her...
My alters will not come out if YOU call them, they will not come out at all for strangers..
So many people think this disorder, DID, is not real...but it is...the brain can do so many things that science can't quite understand...but alters do not happen in adulthood, they come to being by severe trauma as a child ..up to the age of 9. They are a way of the childs brain to cope with and deal with the trauma, but they stay with her, even after the trauma is over and the person is all grown up...they never go away.
Some of my alters are very active, while some are not. They are very good at imitating me, Sparrow.
To know if you are talking to an alter, you have to know Sparrow. You have to know me intimately. the alters have their own quirks, as do I....
so you have to know me, then when you encounter an alter, you are more apt to realize it..but they mimic me at times and are very stealth!
S
fear of rejection
fearful of being called a liar
fearful of what others will think
fearful that I will become a "joke"
fearful of the damage they cause
fearful of being locked up..
fear of being judged...
fear of pushing away family
fear of hurting my family
I know their are so many others with my condition..do they feel the same way? did they feel that way? do they even tell other people, or do they keep it quiet?
I have to let others know, because some of my alters post on my social media, and it is frightening some of what they post...many people don't understand why I post the way I do....I don't want anyone thinking I am just looking for attention or compliments...that can't be further from the truth....I just want to be validated and believed and treated with respect, like I try and treat others.
But one thing I have to make clear:
I do not talk to my alters
I do not hear them talking in my head
I am not aware when they are out
I lose so much time
I get confused very easily
they do not come out all at the same time
I am learning the triggers (that bring them out)
I cannot bring them out, by just "calling them", doesn't work that way
I have no control on what they say or do
I do not physically see them, in my head, but I can kinda see a silhouette off my right shoulder of one of the alters...
I can feel when my little girl wants out, I feel a giggle deep in my chest...that is her...
My alters will not come out if YOU call them, they will not come out at all for strangers..
So many people think this disorder, DID, is not real...but it is...the brain can do so many things that science can't quite understand...but alters do not happen in adulthood, they come to being by severe trauma as a child ..up to the age of 9. They are a way of the childs brain to cope with and deal with the trauma, but they stay with her, even after the trauma is over and the person is all grown up...they never go away.
Some of my alters are very active, while some are not. They are very good at imitating me, Sparrow.
To know if you are talking to an alter, you have to know Sparrow. You have to know me intimately. the alters have their own quirks, as do I....
so you have to know me, then when you encounter an alter, you are more apt to realize it..but they mimic me at times and are very stealth!
S
Thursday, April 2, 2020
HATE RELIGION
how do i get over my hatred for christians? their smug little faces and holier than thou attitude...
I wish this fucking corona virus would wipe out the christian population....they are so fucking ignorant anyway "safe by the blood", "no plague will get me, I am covered in the blood"...what a fucking idiotic stance....
Is their god keeping them safe and free of illness? NO, there is no god....fuck
I could fucking scream how much christians and all fucking religions piss me off.....
The fucking worst of it is, most of my family is christian, so are so many of my "friends and their kids"...I cannot even fucking stand being in the same room with a christian....I cannot believe I once identified as one....what a fuck wad I was....
This quarantine and social distancing bullshit is blowing up social media with "god" memes, christian memes etc....because you know why??? christians cannot think for themselves...they cannot have their own identity...they have to believe in the unbelievable because they have such weak minds....and they believe the answer to ALL SITUATIONS IS GOD...
they are too stupid to think for themselves or try and work out their own situations, so they use God/jesus as a crutch....expecting their fucking savior to save them and the church to feed them....
but the sad fact is....CHURCH AND RELIGION IS ABOUT MONEY...PERIOD. If you don't have the money, the church and god has nothing to do with you....HOW MANY FUCKING CHRISTIANS ARE OUT THERE TRYING TO HELP HOMELESS PEOPLE??? none...ITS ALL ABOUT ME ME ME WHEN IT COMES TO RELIGION.
YOU CAN ONLY SAVE YOURSELF....
I am not ashamed to confront a christian and tell them that...I will not hide behind some fuck bible or fuck perceived christian statute. I WILL NOT BE A HYPOCRITE.
PROCLAIMING CHRISTIANITY MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE A STUPID FOOL WHO CAN'T THINK OR ACT ON YOUR OWN
FUCK YOU CHRISTIANS, FUCK YOU RELIGION.
I wish this fucking corona virus would wipe out the christian population....they are so fucking ignorant anyway "safe by the blood", "no plague will get me, I am covered in the blood"...what a fucking idiotic stance....
Is their god keeping them safe and free of illness? NO, there is no god....fuck
I could fucking scream how much christians and all fucking religions piss me off.....
The fucking worst of it is, most of my family is christian, so are so many of my "friends and their kids"...I cannot even fucking stand being in the same room with a christian....I cannot believe I once identified as one....what a fuck wad I was....
This quarantine and social distancing bullshit is blowing up social media with "god" memes, christian memes etc....because you know why??? christians cannot think for themselves...they cannot have their own identity...they have to believe in the unbelievable because they have such weak minds....and they believe the answer to ALL SITUATIONS IS GOD...
they are too stupid to think for themselves or try and work out their own situations, so they use God/jesus as a crutch....expecting their fucking savior to save them and the church to feed them....
but the sad fact is....CHURCH AND RELIGION IS ABOUT MONEY...PERIOD. If you don't have the money, the church and god has nothing to do with you....HOW MANY FUCKING CHRISTIANS ARE OUT THERE TRYING TO HELP HOMELESS PEOPLE??? none...ITS ALL ABOUT ME ME ME WHEN IT COMES TO RELIGION.
YOU CAN ONLY SAVE YOURSELF....
I am not ashamed to confront a christian and tell them that...I will not hide behind some fuck bible or fuck perceived christian statute. I WILL NOT BE A HYPOCRITE.
PROCLAIMING CHRISTIANITY MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE A STUPID FOOL WHO CAN'T THINK OR ACT ON YOUR OWN
FUCK YOU CHRISTIANS, FUCK YOU RELIGION.
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
Video
So, as everyone knows, I left my husband of 34 yrs. I moved literally 1000 miles away to a place I had never been too. I only knew one person (from High school) in the entire state.
My decision to leave Oklahoma City and the entire state of OK.
I knew that if I stayed there, I would eventually co-mitt suicide, because I was so miserable. So I did what was best for me. I left.
My son, who lives in Oklahoma asked me to make "birthday" videos for the boys (my grandsons) so they could play it too them. With all this corona virus social distancing shit, the boys could not have a party.
So, I sat down and videotaped myself...I discovered two things by this:
1. I look like a dork, sound like a dork and act like a dork...
and 2. I realized how much I miss my grandsons. How much I
miss their smiles, their little faces, their sports, their antics..
Was I wrong to leave Oklahoma, their papa? What kind of example am I setting for my grand-kids?
I am being flooded with guilt. Flooded with shame...Flooded with "what ifs"....My grandsons are going to grow up not knowing who their memaw is...they will forget as they get older...I will become like the great great aunt that lives a long way off...a distant relative.
Can I handle that? John will be there with them every step of the way...they will remember and love him....am I jealous?? I want my grandsons to love their papa, but I want them to love me too.....
But I guess I made the decision to forfeit their love by moving so far away and leaving their papa. I brought it all on myself. I have nobody to blame, but me. I seem to wreck everything, to screw up a good thing, to fuck up....
I have been fucking up my entire life. I never seem to know what is good and what is bad for me....but I am a pro at picking things that destroy me...
So I guess I will have to brush up on my self-video recording. And not appear to be such a fucking dork, I would hate for my grandsons to remember me by my stupid dork videos...haha
S
My decision to leave Oklahoma City and the entire state of OK.
I knew that if I stayed there, I would eventually co-mitt suicide, because I was so miserable. So I did what was best for me. I left.
My son, who lives in Oklahoma asked me to make "birthday" videos for the boys (my grandsons) so they could play it too them. With all this corona virus social distancing shit, the boys could not have a party.
So, I sat down and videotaped myself...I discovered two things by this:
1. I look like a dork, sound like a dork and act like a dork...
and 2. I realized how much I miss my grandsons. How much I
miss their smiles, their little faces, their sports, their antics..
Was I wrong to leave Oklahoma, their papa? What kind of example am I setting for my grand-kids?
I am being flooded with guilt. Flooded with shame...Flooded with "what ifs"....My grandsons are going to grow up not knowing who their memaw is...they will forget as they get older...I will become like the great great aunt that lives a long way off...a distant relative.
Can I handle that? John will be there with them every step of the way...they will remember and love him....am I jealous?? I want my grandsons to love their papa, but I want them to love me too.....
But I guess I made the decision to forfeit their love by moving so far away and leaving their papa. I brought it all on myself. I have nobody to blame, but me. I seem to wreck everything, to screw up a good thing, to fuck up....
I have been fucking up my entire life. I never seem to know what is good and what is bad for me....but I am a pro at picking things that destroy me...
So I guess I will have to brush up on my self-video recording. And not appear to be such a fucking dork, I would hate for my grandsons to remember me by my stupid dork videos...haha
S
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)