sing and dance

 I would watch her dance,

around the room, and sing

her favorite tune...

I would see her smile,

and it made me smile,

at least for the moment.

Music is to me,

what it was to her...

Only I don't sing,

I let the music move my body,

I let my body sing...

Music shades me,  

like a tree, protecting from the sun...

Music allows me to be free,

to scream and shout in silence..

to move until I can move no more...

the instruments come together in agreement,

the beat, moves my hips,

the rhythm moves my arms

the horns, soothe my soul...

She would sing,

her voice, her instrument...

I dance, my body is my instrument.

Sammy

sleep, finally?

 As long as I can remember, sleeping at night has not been a friend of mine.   When I was a child, I use to put a new testament bible under my pillow so I would not have nightmares.....why would a child do something like that...what kind of nightmares does a child really have to warrant the security of a bible?

In high school, I discovered earplugs and have worn ear plugs to sleep for over 40 years.  As I have aged, my "sleep" routine has been almost like a sporting event...

Wash face,  shut curtains (which are black out curtains), turn on box fan (for noise), turn on ceiling fan, put on lip gloss, put in earplugs, turn on white noise machine, take melatonin, put on face eye mask, turn off lights, if melatonin doesn't work, I have prescription sleeping pills (which really do not work that well for me anyway)...  I have purchased a new softer bed, I have plush sheets, new pillows, etc...and still....most of the time, sleep was hit or miss.....why???

Insomnia has been the problem for me, my entire life....now we have discovered why, and hopefully have fixed my sleep problems...

As a small child, my step dad would come into my room at night, and molest me while covering my mouth with his hand...He never sexually molested me in the day, only at night, the dark of night.  I would put my Chrissy doll between me and the door, hoping that Chrissy would protect me from him, she would monitor the door...I was never allowed to lock any doors...I locked the bathroom door once and my step dad kicked it in and beat the living shit out of me....so every night I would lay in bed waiting for the creak of the door as it opens and him coming in.....I never slept....

Fast forward 50 yrs....I still did not sleep...I was safe now, no bad man, but still, no sleep.

My advocate has been helping me in trying to sleep,  we have tried and done so many things, then it dawned on him...maybe it is not Sparrow trying to sleep....Ally was not sleeping...she was waiting for the creak of the door...(my bedroom door does not lock)...even though the abuse happened decades ago, to an alter they relive the horror like it is the first time, over and over....so even as a grown adult, my little was scared to sleep....and Chrissy/Lilly never slept, she watched for the door too....

So, my advocate put a lock on my bedroom door.  That first night, I slept without earplugs...the first time in over 40 yrs...night before last, I slept, last night, again all night with no earplugs...I actually slept.....could it be after all these years and all the money I spent on stuff trying to sleep, that I only needed to be able to lock my bedroom door???? OMG

Ally does not know that the "bad man" is long dead...to her he can show up at any minute to hurt her and Sparrow.   But she does know, now, that she can lock her door at night and sleep without fear...the bad man will not be able to get in...

Having alters is so confusing...it is like having a 10,000 piece puzzle and trying to fit it all together.  My advocate had to figure out where the "not sleeping" puzzle piece fit,  so many puzzle pieces.  

But he is relentless in helping me with this DID.  For the first time in my life, I have someone who actually loves me and wants to help me, even though I can be very difficult and confusing...He listens to me, to the girls...they trust him and slowly my "10,000 piece puzzle of a life, is coming together , and soon I/we will be able to see the whole picture..."  

I will never be "normal" in the sense of most people, but "normal" for me is learning to live with DID, and let my girls live with it too....being happy and finally sleeping.....

S

forever childish

 I hate that I cannot handle life on life's terms.

I hate that the minute my mind wanders, Tessa pops out.

I hate the fact that my mind even wanders..

I hate the fact when I become angry, Sophee pops out..

I cannot even be angry....

I hate the fact that I need to have help, to deal with living.

I feel I have six babysitters..

six babysitters to step in, and live my life, 

working in shifts,....

because, I leave....Sparrow is unable to stay.

Sparrow is unable to do anything...

I hate that I was put in that position...

I hate that I will never be a full adult..

I hate that parts of me, will forever be childish...

I hate that I will always be dependent on them..

I hate what has become of me....

I hate that I am not in control of me.....

S

The Royal split...

 So last night I was watching the interview between the royals and Oprah.  They talked about "their" side of the story in their decision to leave Britain and their royal duties and move to America.  They want everyone to understand why they left, blah blah blah....

Well I got to thinking about that.  They were miserable in Britain.  She was treated like an outsider, ridiculed and basically discriminated against.  She became suicidal and was falling apart under the serious regimented life she was forced to live in Britain.   Her man stood by her and took her away, essentially telling the crown to fuck off.....

Now the British are poopooing their interview...denying much of it and taking great offense at the words of the couple.   They will never be able to go back to their homeland, his homeland...the crown is saying much is exaggerations and lies...

I feel a kindred spirit with Megan....in Oklahoma I was married to "john, the crown" and I had to perform for his expectations and his rules,  his god.   I was miserable....but I stayed and did the wife/mom thing...I sacrificed me for them.....just like Harry and Megan....

I finally grew a pair and left John and Oklahoma and family.   I had to do this for me, my mental health, I was also suicidal to the max....

I found a tumor in my brain....I had radiation surgery and for the next 10 years  my mental health went from bad to worse....the tumors started multiplying....and I did not want what time I had left being miserable and unhappy...I had to finally take care of myself...so I left, tumors and all.....

My family blamed the tumors and surgery and consequent head injury to my "change"....they blamed me finally being me, the real me, on TBI....when I couldn't remember shit, they said its the short term memory loss from the radiation surgery...which after reflection, my whole entire life is short term memory loss with nothing to do with cancer and all to do with having alters....

So now, I am putting the brain cancer shit to the side....and am opening up about DID.  I know now, that I was so confused and angry and weird at times because I am not one person but seven people...it was not the tumors changing my behavior...I feel it was the alters finally having an excuse to come forward...the brain surgery and injury just pushed everything more to the surface....for that, I am grateful, because now I understand better why I am the way I am....

However, once my family starts watching the videos, and I become completely out of the closet with my DID, they will push back...just like the royals did Harry...they will say I am lying,  or faking it, they will blame my "confusion" on the tumors, they will probably even try to blame the alters on the brain injury....it will be a he said/she said moment....

I already feel disconnected from my family, and when everything comes out, that disconnect I fear, will become a permanent fixture in my head....I will probably be treated like I was dead, they will stop saying my name,  and I feel they will slowly push me off the mountain, until I don't exist to them anymore....I am trying to be okay with that, but it is a fear I have....I don't want to be "the crazy memaw" ....but I feel that will be how my grandkids grow up to think about me..."Well she lost her mind and left...she is mentally ill"....Having DID is not an illness, its a condition.

I really wish my coming out of the closet was "I am gay", because I feel my family would accept that better than "I have DID"...the seven headed monster.  DID is formed by extreme unrelenting abuse of all kinds to a small child....my mother will be mortified when she finds out, because she KNEW the type of abuse I suffered, she added to my abuse...the guilt, I hope, eats her alive!!!!  But knowing the fine upstanding preachers wife she is, she will say "its not true, there was some abuse, but not what she is saying"....blah blah blah and my preacher dad will concur with her.  My mother would never stand up and admit that everything I have said and remembered were true.  She is a coward and hides behind her bible, like all the other Christian family members...and the majority of Christians do...

Well I am not hiding anymore.  THEIR GOD ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN TO HER...HE ALLOWED A LITTLE BITTY GIRL TO BE BRUTALIZED AND ABUSED OVER AND OVER..THEIR GOD IS NOT LOVE, HE IS HATE...PURE AND SIMPLE.  I SPIT ON GOD...

I am championing for Megan and Harry...go live your life and fuck your royal family....The Royals are not about family...they are about publicity and ruling others....be happy in America...I am also championing for me...I am living my/our life...and fuck my family if they don't understand.  I need to be happy, its my turn now.

S, T, s

Being me...sucks

 This morning I woke up to a picture my X sent me. 

 

My grandson, Kingston, was visiting and left it as a joke for his Papa to find...that kid is so funny and brilliant.  He is in the "gifted" program at his school and he is 10?  maybe 9?  anyway, I miss him so much.  I miss our conversations.  I miss listening to him, laughing at and with him....

That is my only regret in leaving Oklahoma,  leaving my grandsons.   I am not going to be a part of their life anymore, being 1000 miles away....the scattered pictures I get, will be all I get

Instead of that picture above making me laugh or smile, it only made my heart ache more.  

This covid shit is also keeping me from them.   I have not had my vaccination yet, so I am basically under house arrest.   At this rate, I will be forever sentenced to my house.   

Living in Oklahoma I felt like I was serving a life sentence...my home was a jail full of rules and do nots...when I left, I felt paroled, free....only to move 1000 miles away to be placed under house arrest again, for Covid,   

I deserve to suffer alone here in Virginia.   By alone, I mean without my family.   After three years here, I still have zero friends, especially girl friends.   I only have two friends, my advocate and his friend from work.  That is it.....I have tried to make friends with some women, but they just won't have anything to do with me...and I do not understand why...when I am around people, my alters, stay away, so they are not scaring them off....women just hate me....and I don't understand why???

And now that I am talking about my DID, it further makes me a freak and alienates me from real friends and friendship.  I am not friend material, I am an odd freak...a curiosity, not a woman.  I do not have one woman in my life that I can talk with, not one...Not my mom, not my daughter, no women friends...I have no where to go....

Why don't I go and get a job?  Because of my fuck brain tumor infested, alter infested brain ...I am disabled....On the outside I look fine and healthy and I am active, but on the inside, I am a freak of nature....Unable to cope with a job and responsibilities, and I would end up being fired, like every other time....I am an emotional train wreck...so holding a job would only be a disaster for me and my employer...I can't even cope with the responsibilities of living alone...and I have Tessa do that, and all the other alters to assist her....because Sparrow is fucked.

So, I sit in my treehouse with my only friends, my rats and dog.  Its a very lonely existence and has gotta be a strain on my advocate...I feel like I put way too much pressure on him...he has friends, he had a life before me and it seems now, that I have even scared off his friends....I feel so fucking guilty about that.  

My mom once told me "you made your bed, now you have to lie in it"....exactly that bitch was right...I have made my own decisions and now I have to live with them....

Buck up buttercup...you deserve misery....

S

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Its a lonely life,

being me...

Its a horrible life,

being me...

Its a complicated life,

being me....

Its a nightmare,

being me...

And who is  me?

I don't know anymore,

I have no clue,

All I know,

is I hate being me.

S, and the rest....

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caged

 The lights are blinking chaotic and bright, 

the pounding of the music, deep in her soul.

she jumps on the cage,

clawing, reaching out, climbing..

screaming in silence,

loud, wild and no one hears...

she becomes one with the pole,

up and up grab the bars...

let her out...

let the music take her voice...

she is free.

sammy

unsigned writings..

 So, I found another writing in my cellphone notepad.  This one was dated July 2020.  I do not know who wrote this.  It may have been me, but I don't remember it at all....evidently it was on a day that was not a good one....maybe written just before one of my spiral down depression states...

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I now know I cannot speak.  My words are judgmental and careless.  My ears do not hear my voice.  My voice is offensive and tiresome.  My opinions only cause division and discord.  My mouth needs to stay shut.  I will no longer play my music, unless I am alone.  I will no longer volunteer my opinion or observation on any given subject or theme.  I do not matter.  My words only anger others.  I am to "do no harm" yet my mouth drips with blood.  I will be silent...I am good at being silent...I am good at hiding.  Shut my fucking mouth, and there will be no ripples in the water, everyone is happy and I don't provoke anyone to anger.

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Welcome to the freak show.  Step inside my head and meet the souls that perform there...settle in for the ride.  the lights and noise will abuse you, the cast will amuse you and the scenes will confuse you,  but the voices will accuse you and the stories bemuse you..welcome to the freak show...step on in and see...       the many I call me.

(dated april 2020)

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I smile away my sins

forgive my foes

and die within...

(March 2020)

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I find bits and pieces of words scraped together on a piece of paper, or in my cell phone....Sometimes I get "poems" out of the blue.  I will be driving and all the sudden a poem or ideal for a poem pops in my head and I have to immediately write it down.  I do this even at night,  while lying in bed waiting for sleep my head will spit out these lines or thoughts and I have this desperate urge to hurry and write them down immediately.   Then days and weeks later I run across those scattered writings and think " What the fuck?  when did I write this?  Did I write this? Who wrote this?"  but I never get an answer.

here is another writing I found dated May of 2019.

A Broken Heart

what is a broken heart?

its being able to see, yet having no vision.

It's not being able to move, when you need to run.

it's desperately needing to cry, yet you have lost your tears..

it's a conversation that makes no sense, continuously in your mind.

it's gripping so tightly, yet still slipping away.

its a condition with no definition

a broken heart is a dead life.

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another writing dated Feb. 2019

I learned from a very young age that "love" was evil.  The adults that were in my life were suppose to love me, just like I loved them...but they did not.  As I grew older, again "love" or what I thought was love, killed me.  I purposed to never "love" again.  I promised I would never cry again.  So years go by, decades, and I do the "pretend" love...what was expected of me and I was perfectly fine with that.

I think my brain injury and tumors hit that "love" button.  I changed entirely.

I found someone that touched that weird emotion inside...I was so tired of faking it, pretending, lying...I let myself fall...

But, as I was falling and allowing myself to believe in honest true love..I discovered that I cannot accept love, I cannot physically love...not anymore, not ever.

Something deep inside my heart and soul died a long long time ago when I was innocent...part of my heart was completely destroyed,  the "Love" part.

Too many years of betrayals, abuse, lies, broken trust, neglect, manipulation and severe emotional abuse..permanently disabled me.

I cannot believe I deserve true love, I cannot allow that wound to be opened up again...I know what the end game of love looks like, feels like....I know  I am not enough...that is tattooed on my heart.

My heart is handicapped.

(this was written before I became aware of my alters....)

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(written July, 2018)

How can my head be in the clouds,

when I need my feet on the ground.

How can I manage life?

when it is passing me by..

Where do I go,

when I have been everywhere...

I swim and swim,

yet drowning is so close....

I run, but go nowhere.

I speak, whisper, yell and scream

does anyone even hear me?

My head in the clouds

My feet on the ground,

how is that even possible?

I wonder...

alter shade

I keep notes in the notepad of my cell.  I was cleaning out that notepad when I came across this poem.  I do not recall writing it, so I am thinking one of my girls wrote it.  It was unsigned.

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She just stands there,

outside the door

not leaving, not entering

hovering, like a vulture

circling the kill

waiting....

the silent stalker

a palace sentry

or prison guard

I cannot tell

but she stands there

micro still

watching, waiting

for her to fail.

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my advocate calls , Lilly, the palace guard.  So I believe this was written about Lilly.   But I am not sure by whom....maybe I wrote it and just forgot, or maybe Sammy wrote it, or Tessa or Sophee???

grrrrrrrrrrrrr, is it memory loss or alter shade???  fuck, it is so confusing for me at times....

S 

I am Us

 So our third DID video has been wrapped and uploaded.  So far, I like it the best, probably because Boomer is a show stealer!  

As I sit and watch our videos,  I am watching, and after getting into the crux of the video, I am often startled into reality..."He is talking about me!"   I hear the content and think "yea that's a good idea" then its like...BOOM..oh yea, he is talking about me and my girls!  It is surreal to watch about your life, your struggles, issues etc  on a public forum.

As the videos evolve, and each of the alters are explained and introduced,  I feel understanding of this condition will be easier.   Maybe even easier for me to accept.  I still have a hard time accepting that my mind is split.  The knowledge now of my condition intrigues me and shocks me both at the same time.  

How could I have had these girls my entire life?  I am learning that they hid in plain sight.  All you had to do was look and listen.  But in todays busy life, people are often overlooked, skimmed over, taken for granted.  I was skimmed over my entire life.  By my family, my friends, my co workers, everyone.  

I was taken for granted and accepted as just being "weird"...period.   It took me getting away from my husband, kids and family and even Oklahoma,  to bring this condition to light.   It was me by myself here in a strange new state and my friend watching me try to adapt, when he started noticing things about me that were "off".... Instead of blowing that off as just "her", he took personal interest in me, he listened to me, he watched and observed me, it was him who I now call my advocate, that helped me to realize, deal with and cope with having alters.  It was a three year process before he found all the alters...at least all I have that I am aware of....

No one ever, has given me that type of "non judgmental" attention.  No one has ever truly knew me as a woman and an individual.   I was always, wife or mom or grandma...never Sparrow.  He saw Sparrow and embraced who she is, who I am.  There is no pressure with him.  No tip toeing around him, no trying to be what he thinks I should be, no judgement, no lecturing and no embarrassment.   

When the alters first started trusting him, they would come out or front.  After, He would tell me who was out, the conversation or whatever so I would know where the time went.   At first I was so fucking embarrassed, especially when my little would front...she is only 6 yrs old.....imagine seeing a 58 year old woman behaving like a small child???  fucking embarrassing as hell for me to think about...but he is never embarrassed by any of the alters...he always says "they are you!"  His total acceptance of me and all my warts has helped me in more ways than ANYTHING OR ANYBODY has ever done.  

He has taught me trust.  He has taught the girls trust.  Trust is paramount in dealing with DID people.  Remember the alters were "born" because of acute unrelenting trauma experienced as a small child that  had no one to trust, so we grow up not trusting.  A child that never had a person to love, cherish or protect them, so the child splits and makes their own protection against the horrors they are going through.   The only thing is, once the horrors are over,  the person has grown up etc...the alters do not leave.  They were permanently born.  And the DID person has to adapt to not only their own self, but the personalities of the alters born to them.  One person becomes a family and they all have to learn to live together in harmony.

That is where I am out now, learning to live in harmony with my girls, and to understand that I am Us.

 

S, T

open mouth insert foot

 I did it again.  I inadvertently offended someone by my comment to her prayer request.  Most people, when they post a prayer request, the comments are mostly all : praying for you, etc.."   but since I do not pray or believe in god or jesus, I will not pray for you.   I will not be a hypocrite and say "praying for you" when I know goddamn well I will not.

Instead, I try to offer words of encouragement instead.   But so often, my words are construed as self-serving or "look at me"...and I just end up offending that person.  for ex: 

her:  a prayer request for a cancer diagnosis was asked for.

me:  I mentioned my brain cancer to her, only to show that cancer is not a death sentence.

She:  came back with, I know other people have it way worse than me...

me:  I was in no way trying to compare the cancers and make her feel like her cancer is not important.

But that is exactly the way she took it.  I sent her an apology and deleted my posts.

This is what happens to me all the fucking time.  All I do is stick my fat foot in my mouth over and over..what I think or feel or intend in my head, never comes out right on paper.  I am a colossal fuck up and when I think I am encouraging or helping someone, in reality I am just fucking offending them.

So,  again, my words have proven that I am stupid, uncaring, unfeeling and selfishly self-centered and just a basic asshole.

The one thing that will fuck me up and plunge me into depression faster than anything else, is when I offend someone even though I was not meaning too.   I know what it is like to have my feelings hurt, to feel unimportant, etc...and the very last goddamn fucking thing I wanna do is cause someone else to feel that way because of my stupid words.   

My friend, said I did not offend her....of course she would say that, she is a good person.  TOO fucking good for me.  She is real living breathing honest to god truly good woman who has no business lowering herself to me.  

I am the lowest of the low, in the totem pole of friendship.   in fact, I am not worthy of being anybody's friend.

S