Sycamore street

 So since I have been away from Oklahoma, and getting some "therapy", and really trying to be an independent competent woman in my own way,  and living by myself, the alters have been more forthcoming with my memories.   They are "integrating' with me, more and more.  I have posted many posts about them and me integrating....

But now,  as I am searching for clues as to my childhood, trying to map out a timeline of my life, the alters have been alternately giving me memories and hiding other memories.

For example:  I wrote about the "candy store/dead body find", but in my head I was remembering a street called "Westmoreland" that we lived on at the time...my advocate and I scoured Google maps looking for the house I lived in, the candy store, and the house of the body....could not find it, it was not familiar.  So, I was beginning to think maybe I dreamed up the whole incident...so frustrating...

Later that night, out of the blue, the word "Sycamore" popped into my head.  I sent a text to my dad if he remembered the street, he only remembered Westmoreland, as he moved in there with my mom before they were married.   But still, something was off to me...I had been texting my dad about living in Texas and stuff and he was pretty helpful, until I sent him a text asking him if we had lived on a street called "Sycamore"....ALL THE SUDDEN NOTHING,  CRICKETS..he abruptly stopped texting, silence for almost 2 days, then he sent a text "yes, that is the street you lived on after leaving your grandpas and before living on Westmoreland.  He confirmed that "Sycamore" was fact.

Google maps showed that there is indeed a street in Abilene TX called "Sycamore" and it is pretty close to "Westmoreland"...I google mapped that street, and I think I found the house.....

So many of my memories are so chaotic, it is hard to nail down facts....and alot of my memories are fantastic, ie..watching the plane crash,  Lou lou, etc....How could these over the top memories be real??

My advocate is going to help me navigate the google maps, to find the convenience store I bought the candy in and the house I saw the body.....then we are going to try and find out through old online records for a death in that area around 1972....NOBODY BELIEVED ME THAT I SAW THAT DEAD BODY, just like no one believed me that plane crashed and most of the rest of my memories, that have now turned out to be in fact, true.

I realize delving into my past will bring more memories, and I am sure my alters may not be happy about it, since they have kept the memories from me...but I am different now.  I no longer have to perform or conform to the rules of John or God.  I can voice my memories,   I know that eventually this blog and the Youtube video will get out there...so I am trying to prepare myself for the backlash of doubters and family members that do not want their little secrets exposed....

I cannot be silent anymore, I cannot keep the secrets anymore...SECRETS KEEP YOU SICK

I struggled my whole life to be accepted and treated like everybody else.   I have done everything I could to appear normal and whole.  I have suffered greatly from the pressure of silence.  But no more.

I will not be silent......if it causes what is left of my family to abandon me...then so be it.   Me and family have never been close anyway, except for a small 

Anyway back to Sycamore.  I know that living in that house does not bring back good memories for my mom....certainly not for me, but I have to know more....I feel like an adopted child searching for my real life....right now, my real life is coming to the surface and it is not pretty....but it is real, it is my truth and I need to accept and move on....but moving on means I have to "know" what I am moving on from....I believe either Tessa or Sophee gave me the name "Sycamore"...my dad and mom would not tell me about that street....only after it was given to me and I asked dad, he said yes ya lived there.  That's it.....My mom has clammed up....I will not ever be able to get any information or conformation from her.  And my dad told me years and years ago, that I was never to speak of my past again to my mom or anybody.  He tried to shut me up....and it worked for years,  now, I am no longer keeping my mouth shut.  I need to know who I am, why I am the way I am, and where do I go from here....

Just like an adopted person may feel....who, what, where, how, why was I born, ...I feel the same way..only I will not find another family, so I have to accept mine......fuck.

Okay....so 

S