DID depression

 It is so hard to talk about depression.  My entire life I have struggled with it.  When I would see a therapist, they would ask questions like "what are you feeling", "what is going on in your life right now" "how do you feel about this or that"..."start a journal, and document your depression"...omg..

But with DID I cannot write about "why" or "how" I feel a certain way...Because I flat do not understand what I am feeling..

Not understanding why I am depressed, is so frustrating, it frustrates me to the point of even more deeper depression, I get angry and that will trigger Sophee, so now I am depressed, angry, frustrated and I don't know why, so then I get suicidal depression and start feeling like I am worthless, stupid, and then out pops Sophee and she does her thing, and now I have to deal with wounds...she stops the suicidal thoughts...but the depression is still there...when Sophee does her thing, that is frustrating and painful.

My advocate has all my alters trust, and they will front for him, and often times he will find out that one of my alters is upset or depressed, and he will let them talk about it and help them to find answers and relief...that being done, when I refront, I do feel better...it is so fucking weird at times...

Trying to do a video about DID depression, is very difficult, because it stirs up all my alters and I rapid switch...that leaves me emotionally and mentally exhausted, but you know what?  THAT IS DID DEPRESSION...

DID depression is not "mainstream singlet depression"  it cannot be managed and then you are all better...because it is just not YOU, the singlet, it is 8 personalities jockeying for position....

so fucking hard....and the fight alone is depression....

S, T

we did not cause your depression problems...don't blame us.  7

act like an adult

 So another friend has died of covid.  Unvaccinated, of course...she left 6 kids, a husband and was in her 40's.

I knew that she was going to die, her mother is a very good friend to my advocate, and she calls and talks with him.  During her daughters illness, they talked frequently on the phone, then he would tell me...I also kept updated on her condition through facebook.

Her mother had covid, and lived....so she was questioning why she lived and her daughter is dying...

Parents do not bury their children, children bury their parents.

The daughter left a 3 yr old child...now she has no mother..

The mother was so distraught...I could feel her pain, I knew her questions, I related to her situation so much...it grieved my own heart...

when Gagey was dying I asked all the same questions...

why do I get to live with brain tumors and he is dying of one..

he is only 8 yrs old...it is unnatural to bury a child...

the grief knowing he won't grow up, was overwhelming...

I felt the mothers grief, deep into my heart......I connected to her on a deep maternal level so her pain, and her daughters death, hit me very hard...

So hard in fact, 7 popped their ass out and took all the memory of the daughter dying away from me..So, the daughter died, and I had no ideal.

My advocate, did not retell me about the daughter, he let me be in a blissful fucking fog, not knowing...My fear was I would find out on facebook....which is unacceptable.

The mother called him to tell him she was gone..he supposedly told me, but fucking 7 swooped down and kidnapped the memory..

So the entire evening, as my advocate was dealing with his friends daughters death, I had no clue and I could not be there for him, to comfort him....so basically I was a cold heartless ass, flitting away the night like nothing ever happened, while he had to deal with me, the mother, then the pain of her death...all alone...I HATE THAT

The next evening, a full 24 hours later, I get on facebook, and there it is:  She died, she has her fucking angel wings..blah blah blah..."  It was like a slap in the face...I was furious

and I confronted my advocate...he, of course, had all the right answers, and he told me about 7, blah blah blah....he had planned to "hide" the moms post, so I wouldn't read it..well, guess what...I read it...

I feel like a child.

I fucking hate being treated with kit gloves.

I hate being talked over....going over my head...

I hate being handled...

and that is exactly what is happening...

7 is handling me, my advocate is handling me, my fucking landlord is handling me, all my fucking alters, handle me.  Sparrow is nothing more than a juvenile emotional trainwreck that has to have handlers to manage her day....just call me Britney Spears....fuck.

When I do get to be Sparrow..I end up having an emotional fit the size of the titanic, because I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE HARD EMOTIONS...my fucking alters take care of that...I am stunted in my emotional growth, because of them....

I am just a child...like Ally...nothing but a fucking big baby...everyone feelS like they have to tip toe around me...I FUCKING HATE THAT...I FUCKING HATE THAT I AM SO EMOTIONAL STUNTED BECAUSE OF THE ALTERS...BECAUSE OF MY CHILDHOOD, BECAUSE OF MY FUCKING BIRTH.

I am so sad about the daughter...her death was fucking hard as she could not breath, she suffered so badly....just like my Gagey towards the end, he could not even swallow his own spit because of the tumor that eventually severed his spine....the daughter suffered just as much.....and that hurts my heart more than anyone could ever know...no one should ever have to sit and watch and wait for their child to die...its a nightmare, that never ends...

But I am more angry that I was left out of the loop and found out on facebook...even though my advocate said "I, Sparrow" knew of the phone call, knew she was gone, but 7, in their infinite wisdom, decided I was too much of a fucking baby to handle her death, so they took the memory away....leaving me looking like a fucking selfish uncaring bitch...so I won't have to be sad....fuck that shit.

Then you wonder why I am so fucking depressed all the time....my alters control every fucking thing...how depressing is that???

So today, I will stuff my emotions, and act like a grown up.  Yep, the daughter is dead, yep its sad...everyone dies someday...I am fine.

S, Tessa, sophee

pit

 Trying to climb out of the pit of depression is the hardest climb ever....I start climbing, getting a good grip, then my foot slips and I slide right back down...sometimes the slide is very slow, and some times the slide is very fast...but hitting the rock bottom hurts whether it is a slow descent or a fast descent. The carnage is the same...

The winter months are the hardest...the short days of light, the cold, the snow, the inactivity is the fucking worse for us depression sufferers.

So, why don't I get on anti-depressants?  because they neutralize your emotions, they neutralize your body...yes, you are not as depressed..but no, you are not happy, your are not sad, you are nothing but a human body on drugs...going through the motions...

I will not just "go through the motions"...I want to run through the motions, I want to enjoy the motions, I want to feel life!  Feel all the motions...

I will not go on anti-depressants, or any other mood or mind altering pill....been there done that, still tried to kill myself....fuck that shit.

My advocate has suggested anti-depressants, he is FOR it...of course he is, then I am more easily managed, my emotional level is a flat line...no activity, just a walking zombie...it would make his life much easier dealing with me, but it would kill me...I want to feel life, not just float through it....nobody will ever understand...

Do I enjoy depression????? FUCK NO....I hate it, but it passes and all I have to do is get through the bad days...because I know that "things and emotions blow up, then they blow over"....I will get better on my own, with no help from drugs...

I am not ANTI, antidepressants..they do help people and have their place...

but that place is not with me...EVER

S, T, 7

none of us want to be drugged....

Pathetic..

 I have been struggling with my depression now for at least a week.  Yesterday was such a bad day...7 (I think) was out all fucking day long...her and who knows who else...I know that Sophee was also out because of these....

It looks like she beat the fuck out of me....my arm and leg are so sore today..fuck!!!!!

I hate when she does this,  I mean I guess I understand why, but fuck, why??? I am so tired of this fucking fight inside my head...these girls fight against me...

My entire day yesterday up until 6 pm, is a blank....there are a few glimpse of things that I did, but as a whole, the day is a fucking blank....I "slept" all day...except for I didn't sleep, Sophee beat the shit out of me,  the house is a pit...and I am hurting now physically....

You know what is so fucking weird and stupid?  7 hates me, sophee hates me, and they are ME...I hate myself three times over....that would be so funny if it wasn't so pathetic.

Having DID is pathetic....I am pathetic....

S

never,...

 I am so tired of her stupid heart.  She gets hurt so damn easy.  She wears her heart on her sleeve, it is too fucking easy for someone to grab her heart and squeeze the life right out of it.

when will she grow up?  I will tell you, NEVER.  Her heart and emotional levels are stunted.  

she will never be an adult, she will never be able to take care of herself...If I let her have her stupid heart feelings, she would be dead...we all would die...

I would like to live a happy way, I don't want her heart, I don't want her.....I am tired of her tears...but she can't help the distorted way her mind works, her heart beats in a fucked up way..this is because of her mother.  she will never be normal.

I should just give her to sophee...at least sophee knows how to get her attention...

7

"Mark"

 In 2016, I was locked up in a mental hospital for 14 days because of a suicide attempt.  While I was locked up I met another "inmate", I will call him "Mark".  He was incarcerated for a 30 day detox.  There were inmates there for acute paranoid schizophrenia, suicide, various forms of detox, you name it....all of us crammed into one ward.

I am a very small women and men often feel the need to protect me...Mark was no different, an old school gentleman.  We struck up a friendship and on more than one occasion, Mark had my back.  He was a big guy and took it upon himself to be my body guard!

I don't remember who was released first, but we exchanged numbers, to keep in touch...the polite thing to do...

Shortly after my release, I had major surgery and eventually took a very long solo trip..I had to do something to change my life or I would die...literally.  

Along my 5000 mile trip, Mark would call or text, checking on me.  He had gone back to his addiction I could tell, so I needed to distance myself from him, for his sake and mine.

Months later after my trip, Mark asked me to ride with him to Sturgis on his Harley...I was so tempted, but I was in the middle of leaving my husband, so I declined...

Awhile after than, I received a text that Mark had fallen from a ladder and broke his back...he was in rehab.  Eventually he could walk again, but his rehabilitation  to a long time....He was doing better the last I heard from him....

I did not hear from him again for almost 2 years.  

I found a message from his partner, she left it on my phone November 14, Mark had died of pancreatic cancer...I found the message on Jan 16...This man went through so much only to die....

Isn't that for everyone?  We go through so much, only to die...FUCK 

Goodbye Mark...fly safe....

S,sophee

Sammy, the lonely little girl....

 There once was this lonely little girl.  She would swing on the big swing at the local elementary school, all by herself.  One day, she was sitting on the swing and another little girl came up and sat on the swing beside her.

They started talking and the other little girl said "lets go to my house"...turned out she lived a couple of houses down from the lonely girl.  When they got to the house, nobody was home, no mom, no dad, no nothing.  So the two little girls were all alone...talking...

Then the other little girl said to the lonely girl, "I have a cigarette"...and she lit it up and then handed it to the lonely girl.  They both inhaled and coughed, and laughed.  The other little girl went into the kitchen and got an onion.  She came back out and said "here bite into this, it will get rid of the cigarette smell on your breath"...so both little girls took bites out of the onion....gag...

The other little girl walked into a room and came back out with a Playboy magazine...the lonely girl had never seen a naked person, or woman before...she had seen her mom, but always bruised and skinny, she never thought twice about her or nudity.  

When the lonely girl saw the centerfold..something stirred deep inside her.  The woman was beautiful.  She had long dark hair, and was completely naked except for a cloth that covered one side of her body...the other side, the breast, the vagina all that showed in the centerfold picture.  The lonely girl loved the woman in the picture, she wanted to be the woman in the picture...beautiful, confident, sexy, alive....

It was at that moment that the lonely girl, wanted to touch a woman...she knew something was off, she knew it was "wrong" but her desire was very strong, she could not take her eyes off the centerfold.

The lonely girl did not know it, but that stirring deep inside her was Sammy...her mute personality, her lesbian altar.  The lonely girl did not know about Sammy, she spent almost all of her life feeling guilty about being attracted to woman, the lonely girl married a man, had children, but always the need or urge to be with a woman...to feel a woman's soft body,  soft touch..but she hid the urge best she could, to be normal.

Fast forward a gazillion years....Sammy is now being able to be herself...she wants a woman to be with, and she can be open about her lesbianism...the lonely little girl is all grown up, old even, and finally not so lonely....she now knows she will never be lonely again, because she is aware of her other personalities, all in her head, never going away, she is always in the company of seven other alters...a crowded brain for sure.  And she has a person, man, in her life that she loves....

but the urge to be with a woman is strong for Sammy....Sammy is now the lonely little girl...

S, T

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I saw a woman in a magazine

the most beautiful woman, I had ever seen...

Her hair was dark and long,

like the lyrics of a beautiful song...

She haunts my sleep,

taking memories I want to keep...

She was all I could see,

all I ever wanted to be...

wanting her,

that was my silent plea....

Sammy

an inconvenience

 So, obviously I am not the brightest or the smartest person...It takes me a long while to put pieces together and to realize a truth, or the truth.

Last night, I slept so fitfully....why?  I did not have nightmares or any memories, just something in the back of my head...nagging me.....

After talking with my cousin,  it finally hit me....

They knew!  they knew of the abuse, how could they not?  How could they have not seen the bruises?  I had bruises that were beyond regular childhood accidents...those weekends I spent with my daddy's family (before he had to bring me back to the house of horrors),  there had to be bruises...

so why did he keep taking me back to that house????  He did not want me either....or he would have tried to keep me,  he did not want to deal with a fucked up little girl... His family had their own families, families that were "perfect", not messed up, why in the fucking hell would they want to bring a messed up little girl into the fold.....it makes perfect sense.  My daddy flat did not want to fight for me...I was expendable.  His sisters (my aunts) did not want the added burden of having to raise someone else's child.   I was not wanted either by my mother or my father.  That is so fucking apparent now, how could I have been so blind??

I hated my mother so much, I guess I painted my father as a saint, but he was no saint.  He was a young man that did not want to be burdened with a young child...he had his whole life in front of him and being saddled with a baby/toddler/child was not in his cards.  He was perfectly content to let my mother and that fuck of a step father "raise" me, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and he can live happily ever after...acknowledging me on birthdays and christmas only...

I have been nothing but a pain in the ass for my entire family.....MY WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY....I have never been wanted...I have been paid lip service at times, but only to placate me and to shut me up....but the fact of the matter is, I am a fucking waste of life, a waste of a daughter, mother and every other damn thing....

Is talking about DID going to help?  Is it going to make me feel better?  Is it going to help me by helping others to understand this fucking nightmare of a disorder?  NO.

It just reiterates the brokenness of a girl, who told herself her entire life that her "daddy" loved her, only to realize, that was simply not true.  I am sure he felt a sense of duty, since it was his sperm that fathered me, but he was so happy to let that fucking bastard step dad adopt me, then he would not even have to pay child support.  He could wash his hands of me, his colossal mistake...

So now I have to live with the thoughts "did he know?", I can never ask him or my aunts as they are all dead now...they went to their graves never having to explain themselves to me, how great for them....How convenient for them to ignore an inconvenience like me....

My mother did not want me, my father did not want me...I was an orphan, unloved, used, abused then thrown away......

an inconvenience.....

S, 7, sophee

outed

 So fuck....I am about to outed on facebook and to my family.  I recently went back on facebook after leaving for about a year... I blocked all my family members because of the ridicule and embarrassment of my disorder.  I am just fucking not ready for my family to know of my DID.  One of my blocked cousins, saw my post on my cousins page (I only have one family member who is not blocked..she texted me and was like "huh"??

I vaguely explained to her about my mental condition and I was not ready to explain it to family until I am ready...

Will I ever be ready?  Telling friends and strangers about my condition is one thing, but telling family is a whole nuther animal...my family is very christian and judgmental, plus I do not want to tell them the "why" I have DID....fuck

My advocate said when the time comes that I am ready to face the battle, that we will just refer them to the Youtube videos first...I will not talk to them until they have watched ALL the video's, because the videos will answer alot of questions they might have... and if they do have questions, comments, whatever, I will refer them to talk to my advocate first, before talking to me...

To say I am scared and nervous and apprehensive is an understatement.  Frankly I would rather have to tell them I have cancer or something rather than DID...people respect cancer, they don't respect DID.  Because it is such a complex bizarre condition...

Again, I am feeling naked and vulnerable...fuck...

S

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her family do not know that they have talked with me....I have been around her family many times...I do not want her to tell them at all...I want her to be happy and her family hurts her heart...I could care less if they like me...but she is so wrapped up in that family mentality that it rips her heart to shreds...her sister hurt her, imagine what the others will do or say...I have to keep her heart safe...she is so sensitive and her feelings get hurt way to easy...and her family are the biggest persecutors she has.

7

A Kept Woman

 I am a "kept" woman:  here is why...

I am safe

I am warm

I am given priority

I am given trust

I am more important, than his job or god

He listens to me

He believes me and in me

He is my champion

He defends me

He loves me unconditionally

He excites me

He makes me laugh

He loves my dog

He is a Master.

He takes care of me.

Are you a "Kept" woman?

I truly hope so...Blessed Be

S, T

dark ugly place

 So I did a horrible thing....I watched myself on my 50" smart TV.  I Youtubed our channel and watched myself....big as day....

was a freaking nightmare....

Have you ever had the dream where you are in a crowded room or mall and you are naked?  In the dream you are so afraid of being seen without your clothes on, then people would know what you really looked like....so you hide and dodge do what you can to not be seen....its a feeling, a dream feeling of stark terror....

Well that is exactly how I felt watching myself on TV.   My advocate told me that we are being viewed in other countries as well....THE FUCK???  The whole world will discover me and my DID....the whole world will laugh and ridicule and call me a faker and a liar.  I will not be believed...I have never been believed, so I have had to live a lie my entire life...and now that "lie" is open for everyone.

The "Lie" being, "I am fine, nothing is wrong with me...I am happy and whole" the whole fake beautiful life lie....I am not fine, I am not happy, and I am not whole.  I am fractured...my brain is fractured, my psyche is fractured, and I will never be a whole person, only a fragment of 8 personalities....I AM NOT OKAY.

Just because I am breathing air, have a nice place, a wonderful loving beyond amazing advocate, I am not happy, because I am so fucking broken.  And I realize that I will never be fixed, there is no fixing DID and the scores of other atrocities that come with that diagnosis.  The crippling depression, the stares, the doubt of myself, the hatred I have for certain people in my life...the hatred I have for myself.

I am trying to live my fucked up life, while one of my pedophile predator's gets to sit in a comfy Hospital for the Criminally Insane, gets three square meals a day, a soft bed, TV, meds,  healthcare....

and I get 7 personalities besides myself, to try and manage...My other pedophile predator is dead...but he lived until 2013...he got to live his fucking full life, knowing what he did to me, my mom and my life...how many others did he get to abuse and screw up for the rest of their lives????  How many other women with DID got it from him????

It sickens me that one pedophile got to live his entire life until the ripe old age of 70's, then died, without a backwards thought to me...and the other is in protected custody being taken care of, despite what he did to me and the others that he was imprisoned for hurting...I don't even take comfort in the fact that he is locked up and the judge will not let him out....HE will get out....the bad horrible people get justice for their crimes, yet the ones who were hurt by those crimes, have to suffer every fucking day...

When I watch myself on TV, in our Youtube Videos, I am reminded that the reason for these videos is because of the abuse I suffered at the hands of monsters...I am laying bare my injuries to the world...

I am permanently mentally disabled...It would have been better had they just fucking killed me....

I am telling the world, literally the whole fucking world, I am a freak, a broken sad woman, yet I am trying to live in a fucked up reality of life.  Smiling when I want to scream, acting like "everything is good" when it is not, thinking that I can be beautiful, when in fact I am ugly...very ugly...my mind is an ugly dark place, and now the world will know of my dark ugly place....

S,T,7

this is 7

 this is 7...I have a lot to say...but she is not ready...she may never be ready to hear what I have to say...her mind is weak, weak as her heart...

I control her.  she is the car and I am the driver...I like her friend alright,  but he will never control me.  I will not go away...I can't.  she would kill her heart if I let her.

Disturbance in the force

 So, I told my advocate last night that I felt "a disturbance in the force"...meaning I felt something was going on inside my head...I felt "disassociated" all day.

One minute I am Sparrow, then all the sudden its 20 minutes later and I don't know where that time went...when I have short switches, it often leaves me feeling dizzy and discombobulated...I do better when an alter fronts and stays awhile, but when they front and go, it is harder for me to keep my day straight.

Before I knew I had DID, I would be in a store, then I would be checking out at the register...I have no memory of the aisles I walked...I use to contribute that to "day dreaming"...or "running on automatic"....I had no ideal that an alter had fronted and actually did the shopping....what a mind fuck.

Last night, I even caught myself smoking...goddamnit...7 had fronted, lit a cigarette then left...and all the sudden I have a half smoken cigarette in my hand...YUK seriously, 7 could at least smoke the whole thing then leave...sigh

I do not know who is "disturbed" in my head...but I can feel the physical and emotional disturbance through out my body...I think it is 7.  7 seems to front the most, why???

7 protects my heart, but I seriously think 7 is so comfortable fronting now, that they will just front whenever...no excuse,  no reason....so I think 7 is the most predominate of all my personalities....7 was the last alter to find, but I really think 7 has been around much of my life, like Tessa...I believe the two of them have basically raised me....

My advocate told me of a memory 7 told him...that memory makes me, sparrow, to be about 3 yrs old....3 yrs old and already have an alter????????? what kind of fucking monster destroys a childs mind by the age of 3???

I am beginning to wonder if 7 was my very first alter....we always assumed it was Lilly, but fuck, 7 may be the first alter....hmmmmmm

Lilly, Ally and 7 are all left handed...meaning they were the first alters, because sparrow was born left handed, but forced to be right handed...Sammy, Tessa, Sophee are all right handed, meaning they were formed when I was in school??? kindergarten or first grade...

It is so hard to know why an alter is the way they are...so different...yet they are all me....what a fucking mind fuck.

I am not sure who is upset in my system...but someone is upset, I know, because I can feel something deep down that is not right...I can't describe the feeling, it is just an itch I can't scratch....a nagging ache...I don't feel angry or mad or sad, but I feel something, maybe an alter is trying to decide to share a memory with me...I don't know...

fuck...DID is so convoluted...

S, T

Turtles

 My advocate was a scout master.  In his troop, he often talked of a certain young man, called Wesley.  Wesley was a good kid but had the funniest things happen to him while in the scouts.  When I get sad, or depressed, or want to smile, I will ask him to tell me a Wesley story.  He has so many really fun memories of this boy, and his other scouts...I love listening to his stories of scouting mayhem.  How fun for those boys, what positive memories they all have.  I love listening to stories of people childhoods and the joy they experienced growing up.....

My own kids had the same joy...they had two loving, kind and respectable parents.  Their parents did fun things with them, was involved in everything they did, good or bad, took billions of pictures and have filled scores of photo albums of their childhoods....My kids have fond, fun memories...very few bad ones, very few...my kids were so blessed....

That was always my goal.  To be a mother, the kind of mother my own mother was not, to nurture, train, and teach my children how to become adults, how to be confident in their own skin.  How to be independent and happy.  I felt I did a good job.  At least the best that I could do.

When I look back on my childhood, I do not have happy memories, no fun "wesley" stories.  But I do have good memories (very few)  of times I visited with my "uncle" and his family (he was actually my bio dad)...those few times were happy.  I believe I was happy...at least as happy as a little girl could be given the situation she was in....but when he would bring me back to my mothers, my happiness ended and my fear started.

Once when I was visiting with my "uncle"  he bought me one of those little bitty turtles that was so popular when I was a child.  He bought me a little water bowl with a rock and stuff for the turtle to crawl on.   I was so happy with that new critter.  When it was time for me to go back to my mothers, he brought the turtle back with me.   

My mom was all smiles and fake motherhood, until he left.  She put the turtle on the kitchen table.   

Later that night, my "dad" (stepdad) came home, angry and drunk, as usual....he saw the turtle in the bowl on the table and asked about it.  When she told him that my "uncle" had bought it for me, he got angry.

He grabbed the bowl and yelled for me to meet him in the bathroom.

I walked in, and he had the bowl on the floor.  He told me that I could not have this little turtle because they spread disease.  Do I want everyone in the house to get sick???  He then had ME pick the turtle up out of the bowl and flush it down the toilet.  

I remember the turtle squirming in my hand, but I did not cry...I flushed him down and went to my room.....

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I am so thankful that my own children do not have memories like that to have to deal with.  Despite everything, my kids can NEVER say I was cruel to them, that I beat them, that I didn't love them...their childhood memories are happy ones...

Seems like every fucking childhood memory I have is tragic and unbelievable...WHY?

Why can't I have a fun and happy childhood memories that are my own?  I know that I lived my childhood through my kids...I played with them, I played with their toys, I watched movies with them, I supported every thing they participated in.  So, I did get to be a "grown up kid" with them.

Now I have Ally.  Playing, happy, free, and I am grateful and sad at the same time.  I should never have needed an Ally, or a Lilly, or a Sophee, or a Sammy, or a Tessa, or a 7...

I should have just been regular kid, Melissa.  Normal kid, Melissa.  Loved kid, Melissa.

But, that was not in the plans that the universe had already carved out for me.  

I am Sparrow.  

youtube.com/c/sparrowisms

 Anyone reading my blogs but don't know I have a Youtube channel here is our address:

youtube.com/c/sparrowisms

The videos cover what it is like having DID, but from the partners or loved ones stand point.  It is to help teach them how to recognize, deal with and live and love a partner or family member or friend who has DID.

S

Dads text

 So I need to vent some here.  Of course it is about the holiday season, kind of.  In 2015 I met Jett...I met him while he was wrapped around a pole from a motorcycle wreck.  In the year I knew him, we became really close, then he died almost a year to the date when I first met him.

Fast forward to 2020-21...I met a man name JR.  I have written about him in previous blog entries....

The day after christmas, I received a text from my step dad (the baptist preacher).  He was asking how my holidays went etc....So I texted him back about my friend, JR, and how hard that was for me...I even said "It is like Jett all over again"...and because of that, my holidays were not that great....My dad knew how hard Jett was for me, he had a front row seat in my Jett heartache...but, when my dad replied to my text, he said "glad to hear your holidays were good, love ya kid" or something to that effect....

NO:  I remember how hard Jett was for you,  I am sorry for your loss,  he never asked me a damn thing about JR...he just flat did not care.  He is a fucking Pastor...he could  have put his pastor cap on and try to comfort me through this loss, but he did not.  He fucking blew me off....

That text right there proved to me, that once again, christians, and especially pastors don't really give a rats ass for the suffering of others...and it proved to me, once again, that I do not matter....I am invisible.  After all, my dad would not have even been ordained as a pastor if the seminary had known of my existence...so by my dad disregarding my feelings, giving me a fucking pat answer and not recognizing me as a daughter and human being, just fucking cemented my "lack of faith".   

If a dad, a fucking preacher, cannot put "virtual" arms around his daughter and try to comfort her in the loss of a dear friend, then I do not have a dad.   Just because I am a 59 yr old woman, does not mean that death does not affect me....I am still a little girl inside who needed her dad to tell her "its gonna be alright"...MY DAD DID NOT AND WILL NOT DO THAT.

I keep hoping, perhaps stupidly, that my family will embrace me, that they care for me, and they will accept that I need to live MY LIFE.  

But living MY LIFE does not mean I don't want them in it...I do!!!  They get to live their lives as they see fit, so why is it a different story for me???  WHY?????

I guess I will never know "why"...that is a question that I will have to take to my grave.  I just have to learn to live with the fact that "I don't matter"....with my family.

So for New Years, I will put my "hurt" feelings away....The blinders are now off my eyes, and I see clearly for the first time.  If my family does not need or want me, then I have no need or want for them.  I am going to try and stop beating myself up for not being important enough, or loved enough for my family.

If me being gone, is easier for my mother, so she doesn't see me as a reminder of a horrid past, if it is easier for my dad to "take care of her", then I am gone.  

Do no harm.  That is my mantra, obviously not theirs....so be it.

S,7, sophee

New Years party dud...

 So we were invited to a New Years Party...first time out to a party since this whole covid bullshit....I was so excited to go....but once there, the party was a dud....just everyone sitting around talking about health issues, and who has died....FUCK...not my ideal of a good time....

So I munched on some food, and ended up getting really sick and having to leave...well I am sure I didn't miss much.  I guess parties at 60 are a whole lot different than parties at 30!  I don't want to get old....

We came home and I went on to sleep...at midnight my advocate woke me up, we put on our 2022 glasses, took a picture, then back to bed...haha

I was bummed, because it was the first time I had made myself up for a night out partying...I even put in my hair extensions and went all out....but, I basically just got all dolled up for me....nobody at the party were dressed festive...there were no New Years Eve games, no music, fuck...nothing....

Oh well...I am an old fucking woman, I guess 2022 is the year I need to start acting my age...boring...

S