My daddy

 Today is October 27th.  My daddy died suddenly and unexpectedly on October 27, 2007.  15 yrs ago.  He was buried on halloween day.

He died 3 years before the birth of his first great grandson. 

He was not there for me, when I had to struggle with grief of the death of his second great grandson...I needed him then, and he was gone.

He died one year before I was diagnosed with a brain tumor...I needed him them to help me through the trauma of brain surgery.  I needed him to tell me I would be okay.

He died before my DID diagnoses.  I needed him to know about me, I needed him to know he was not responsible for the horrible trauma I went through as a child...I needed him to help me deal with that...I needed him...

I have needed my daddy my whole life, and he was only there for me, for such a short time....I never had a daddy who took care of me, who protected me and sheltered me from the storms that have over taken my life...I needed my daddy.

Would he have supported me?   Would he have understood the DID?  Being such a strong christian, would he have even believed me?

I miss him so much....with him gone, it seems that my entire family has fell apart...when he died a huge part of me died with him...

But the what ifs, always remain...unanswered questions,  unresolved grief and despair...

Now I have no parent for comfort and guidance, even as an adult, I still need my parents...but my mother is not there for me, my step father is not there for me...I am alone...

I am an orphan, struggling to survive an adult world...

The worse part of him suddenly dyeing, I did not get to tell him that I loved him, I did not get to tell him goodbye, I did not get to ask him for forgiveness for the horrible teenager I was, I did not get to confide in him my fears...I did not get to explain to him my DID...he did not get to see me live with brain tumors...he was not there to support me in my decision to leave my husband...

I was alone....always alone...

I am angry he died, I am angry he left me "holding the bag", I am angry that I did not get more time with him, I am angry that he never got to be with his great grandchildren...I am angry he was not around to help me with Gagey death...I am so angry at him...

He did not want to die, I know that....his heart just quit, yet mine keeps beating that mournful beat...

I miss you daddy, I love you, but I am still angry with you for leaving me...you abandoned me, like my mother, like my step father, like so many other people in my life.

Up and gone without a second look back...

S

An inverted cross

 Growing up, I was loosely raised in the southern baptist religion.  So I knew all the bible stories and of course, Jesus.   But at the age of 9, I discovered the stories I heard my whole life were all lies, so I quit believing in god.

But everyone was christian, so as to not get into trouble, I pretended to be a christian also.

At 14, I was introduced to Wicca.  I was instantly drawn to the "nature" element and respect for the earth.  It felt easy for me to be believe, the grass, I could touch it, the flowers, I could smell them, the trees, I could climb them....it was beautiful.

At 16, I was introduced to Satanism.  The worship of satan and the mockery of christianity.  Already not being a christian, and young and impressionable, I fell for this...unfortunately it ended very badly for me.

Now I do not believe in any god, satan, angels, demons, heaven, hell, etc....

I believe in science.  And I practice my type of Witchcraft, I call being a Green Witch.  Which means I respect and honor and take care of all forms of life, and I do not harm.  No harm to our earth, our animals or our people.   Just be a good person.

On my Jeep, I have skeletons.  Not because I am evil or am obsessed  with death or wish death on anyone.  Skeletons mean equality.  Under the color of your skin, no matter your race, religion or even sex (minus the one rib) everyone is nothing but bones...bones go back into the earth...dust to dust...bones are beautiful.

So on my jeep are lots of skulls, wiccan symbols, skeletons and the like.  I decided to add an inverted cross.

Why??? because a green witch is a respecter of ALL religions, everyone has a right to believe what their heart tells them.  I respect that...in fact, an inverted cross is actually showing respect to the christian religion.

Jesus, the man Christians follow and worship, was a good man, "sin" free, he did no wrong, yet he was cruelly and brutally hung on a cross, executed.  For nothing.   Jesus had many followers,  disciples, and the masses....later, the disciples started being round up and killed...when the apostle Paul was found, they wanted to hang him on the cross like Jesus.

Paul said "no", I am deserving of death, Jesus was not, hang me upside down.  And they did.  They inverted the cross.

I respect the christians Jesus, so, by putting an inverted cross on my jeep, it says "I am not worthy of your jesus death either".

Like everything in the world, the SATANIST took a violent form of death and started flaunting that death and they turned it upside down as a mockery of God.   Trying to thumb their noses as the christians, when in all actually they are promoting the truth of the inverted cross...they are not worthy of Jesus death either....kinda funny

The cross, in the day it was used, was the most brutal form of abuse none to man, if you watched the "Passion of the Christ" it is the closest you can come to showing the horror of the cross....

When I see christians wearing little gold cross necklaces around their necks, it really makes me sick.  They are glamorizing the executions style by gold and diamonds..."Look I am a christian, I am wearing a gold cross necklace, I am worthy and equal to Jesus to die upright....talk about egotistical hypocritical horse shit.   

A true christian would wear that little cross upside down and show the world they are humble, not worthy of Jesus, and certainly not worthy of his type of execution...

 Like everything in the world, here we are again, only this time its the Christians.  Making a cross jewelry, and beautiful, they are themselves making a mockery of christ, they are thumbing their noses at him too!  AND THEY ARE TOO FUCKING STUPID TO SEE THAT....SO FUCKING SELF CENTERED AND SELF RIGHTEOUS HYPOCRITS.

So, don't assume I am a satanist because I have an inverted cross on my jeep.

don't assume I am a black witch, evil with warts, and eat little children because I have a wiccan symbol.   

I am a pacan wiccan.  PERIOD, but I am a respecter of all life, and if a life involves a particular belief system, then I respect that.

However, do not try to teach me your religion, chances are I know more about your religion than you do, and second I am not interested.

If I ask you a question, then answer it as you believe, if you ask me a question, I will answer it as I believe.  Mutual respect.

S, Tessa

________________________________________________

As a caveat to this blog, at the Blue Ridge Jeep Invasion, the jeep were were parked next too, Kevin and I got to visit with the owners.  Their jeep was called "Devils Daughter"...

As we were sitting there, the husband point blank asked me why I had an "inverted cross" on my jeep.   He was not being mean or anything just curious.  So I told him, everything I explained above about the meaning of the inverted cross.  I also told him I was Pagan, yet I respected all peoples faiths and beliefs.  

After a minute of him contemplating what I had just explained, he thanked me, and said, "I never thought of it that way, and that makes perfect sense."  We all went on to have a great time together, enjoying our jeeps...

If you don't ask, you will never know.  If you just assume...then you are  making "ass out of u and me"...

Knowledge is power, knowledge is wisdom.

S

speaking greek

 OMG  I cannot believe how stupid I am...how confused I am, how much I do not understand simple english.

On one of my Jeep groups,  I was talking with someone about rescuing dogs and the moderator asked me if I would be interested in helping with IG pics for the page....

I am so ignorant, I thought she met IG, Italian Greyhound...but she met IG as in instagram.   I could not understand what she was wanting or asking of me...so I questioned it, and still I couldn't understand what she was asking so I flat out told her I have brain tumors and have a hard time sometimes understanding things...

Then she finally spelled it out to me, like I was a fucking first grader and now I feel like such an ignorant fool.....plus, now she knows I have a brain condition....I just fucking shot myself in the foot...what a fucking loser.  THIS IS HOW I SABOTOGE ANY FRIENDSHIPS, MY ACUTE STUPIDITY AND IGNORANCE.

So now I don't know,  I am confused, and frustrated.

Plus, my advocate and I have reached an impasse.  He simply cannot understand how my mind thinks, what I expect of myself, what I expect others to think of me...Even though I try and explain myself in a text or in a conversation, he still doesn't get it.  He refuses to listen to me, because he has all the answers.  He only reads or hears what he wants to read or hear...

Making me feel like a fool...,do I speak in Greek?  Are my words so convoluted that they come out  making no fucking sense at all?

If I express my wishes, my heart, what I want, does it come out as shit?  Do I not make sense?  

Everything is always twisted in my head...maybe it really is, maybe I am so fucking brain damaged that I cannot even understand myself...what I need or want or require is not important because I don't understand myself?  My advocate understands what I want and need and desire better than I understand myself?  That is FUCKING SAD.

Does my advocate think now that he knows all my alters, that he talks with them, that he knows what I feel, me sparrow?  He has no clue what I feel....if he did, I would not be here in this mindset, over and over and over...we would not have this same conversation over and over and over....he would not make me feel stupid of bad or ignorant for certain feelings....

I know that he is not a woman, so he thinks like a man...but you know what...if he wants to keep me, then he needs to start thinking more like a woman and less like a man....I have had enough of MEN thinking for me....telling me what is best for me, lecturing me when they think I am wrong, discounting my feelings and wishes as stupid or frivolous.

Every conversation we have, I end up apologizing and telling him he is right...just to stop the screams in my head....no one will ever understand me...It is impossible...I am impossible.

I hate my life....I want to die.  Because I have no fucking voice...I am given lip service and promised things will change and they NEVER FUCKING CHANGE, NEVER......BECAUSE I AM THE DAMAGED ONE, I AM THE ONE WHO IS STUPID AND IMPOSSIBLE WITH MY DESIRES OR WANTS OR WHATEVER...I AM SHALLOW...I AM A FUCKING FREAK. SO WHY WOULD ANYTHING CHANGE FOR ME?  I HAVE TO CHANGE FOR EVERYONE ELSE, BECAUSE THEY MATTER, NOT ME...I DON'T MATTER...

And I usually delete my posts that are negative towards my advocate, because everyone thinks he is perfect...the perfect advocate for me, so I don't want people to know that he is not meeting my needs, me sparrow...he meets their needs...but not mine....

I don't even care anymore, I am tired of protecting everyone else.  My advocate is being a selfish ass and I am fucking sick of it, his self righteous, know it all, never is wrong mentality.   

Well, he is wrong...even though I cannot adequately explain why he is wrong, because of course I am brain damaged...just let me tell you..he is wrong, and he is single handedly killing me.....I even accused him of gaslighting me...because that is what it feels like...when you try and explain to someone your feelings and they turn it around to make you look like the ungrateful confused ignorant person.   

This is my life....I have been gaslighted my whole life and it is fucking shocking to me that the man, who supposedly is my advocate is gaslighting me too, even if he thinks he is not...he is....

I don't care...he can hate me now for reading this, I just fucking don't care...I hate myself more than anybody could ever hate me so it doesn't matter....

and to make matters worse, I went to the fucking mall today, and got lost...lost in the fucking mall....I was so turned around, I started to panic...and I have been in that fucking mall a million times....just further proof of my mental illness, my fucked up head, my stupid brain damaged self.

s, sophee, 7

Names

 In 1962, I was born Melissa Lou Trammell.

A short time after that I was adopted by my step dad, and my name became Melissa Lou Rundberg. My adopted dad called me Missy.  My birth father was all to eager to let this man adopt me...that meant he no longer had to give my mother child support.  It also meant that my new "dad" could do whatever the fuck he wanted with me.....and he did.

Then my mother married a third time, her third husband adopted me and my siblings...I became Melissa Anne Troutman.  Or Missy Troutman.

I got married, and my name became Melissa Anne Krupovage.   

I left my husband, and changed my name, again...this time to Sparrow Krupovage.  I dropped my middle name....I kept my last name because of my kids and grandkids....but now I am Sparrow.

Melissa Lou Trammell , Missy Lou Rundberg, Melissa Anne Troutman, Melissa Anne Krupovage, and now Sparrow Krupovage.

So, wow...who the fuck am I?

Now I am Sparrow, and have found out I am also:

Tessa

Lilly

Sophee

7

Sammy

Ally

Kaos

Sparrow Lilly Tessa Sophee 7 Sammy Ally Kaos Krupovage....

Its no wonder I don't know who the fuck I am.....its no wonder I have confusion, and frustration....

I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO THE GODDAMN FUCK I AM....I AM AS SCREWED UP AS I SEEM TO OTHERS...I AM THE FUCK UP, THE LOSER, THE NON-PERSON.

S,7,sophee

responsiblity

 So I have been reading more about DID.  And the consensus is that a person with DID should be held accountable for any acts done by an alternate personality.  This is what the brain docs say.  Even if the "host" has no memory of an event by the alter, the "host" is still responsible.   

So how do I hold myself accountable?  How do I hold myself accountable if Ally breaks something, or sophee attacks someone threatening me?  It seems unfair...but I understand.

I broke it, I attacked someone, I did all the chores, I danced in strip clubs, I did it all.   I am guilty.

Amnesia means nothing when it comes to DID....the public sees the "host" they don't see the alter, so, its the hosts fault.  

So, this is my new plan.  I have DID.  I am 100% responsible for everything I do, I say, I act whatever....I am responsible for my brain splitting, because of the coward the host is.

I will no longer wear "Tessa" ring.  If she fronts, I won't know and if I see something done, then I know I DID IT.   

Same with the toys and everything else, if Sammy turns on the lava lamp and music, then I DID IT.  No mystery......it was me the host.

The shrink community says DID is extremely rare and less than 1 % of the public has it.....I guess I am that rare 1% percent.  Figures, leave it to me, the host, to become something obscure and bizarre.  To become a monster that I cannot control...

So, since I am out of control, mentally, then I am 100% responsible for everything, everything.....

Having DID is absolutely no excuse for unacceptable behavior, no matter who is doing it.

It is unacceptable for a 60 yr old woman to play with toys....It is unacceptable for a 60 yr old woman to try and be "young"....vanity

So, call it denial, whatever.......but I, the host, is to blame for everything!

I did it.  I am to blame, and me alone....

s

Who am I?

 Who am I?

I was told that I am loved because of who I am…

Who am I?

Melissa? Sparrow?

Tessa?

Sophee?

7, Sammy, Lilly, Ally?

How can I be a “who” when I am many?

That is the core of my being…I am not one singular person… my head is crowded with others…

How can I define myself, sparrow, when there are so many?

Just who the fuck am I?

All I had, me sparrow, were my looks.  That’s it.  Tessa has the brains, they all have their niche in my brain… and all Melissa got stuck with was her mothers genes.  Thanks mom for my looks.

Thanks for nothing…

If I had been born hideous and ugly, then I would have had on identity.   

Thanks mom.  

Just call me, Melissa

Jeep Invasion

 I had so much fun at the Jeep invasion.  I entered my jeep in my first "show and shine" competetion...I did not win, but I got 10 ducks, and that was so fun!  I got to see lots of jeeps and get more ideals for decals and what to do to my jeep for my next show I enter!  

But I was not the only one enjoying the show...as everyone knows I will not eat seafood, I think it is gross and disgusting...but Tessa loves catfish....a vendor at the event was selling fried catfish....Kevin said that while sitting listening to music, Tessa fronted and asked him if she could have some catfish....So he bought her catfish, and she ate it...then he told me she put peppermint gum in  her mouth so I, Sparrow, would not taste the fish....her little trick, I guess!

This is a pic of Tessa eating catfish that Kevin took....gag me!

And not only Tessa fronted, but so did 7.  And probably Ally did too, because of all the halloween decorations on the various jeeps...

This was a two day event and we went both days, despite me having a cracked rib and walking around holding a pillow to my side, I still had a wonderful time...the weather was awesome, the scenery (mountains) was beautiful and the people were great!

This is me, Sparrow, holding my trusty pillow on the first day..I really think all my alters like my jeep, I think they all like being outdoors and mingling with others (imitating me) and having a good time, just being themselves....

Living with DID is very hard.  I am still so nervous for people to know, I am still nervous that once someone finds out, they will think I am incapable of being a "real" responsible person...but all of us ran an award winning dog park in Oklahoma...all of us built a dog kennel for the homeless...all of us raised my kids, all of us worked with me in my past jobs....no one knew...so it was easy....

People starting to find out, makes it not so easy for me to relax, I am fearful and scared of being "found out" then rejected because of Hollywood movies, books, TV and what the media says about DID.  We are portrayed as monsters, not reliable, unpredictable and dangerous and this is simply not true.  

In fact, DID actually prevents us from becoming monsters....it is a defense mechanism that saves our brains....

I am hoping that I can become more involved in Jeep event planning and in making more friends, yet I am scared of the "what ifs", what if they find out,  what if it scares them, what, what what if......

Anyhoo, wanted to write about the fun I had!

S, Tessa

cracked rib

 So about a week or go, I was having yet another shit day, and for some reason I lost it....I flew into a rage...I can't remember why or how it happened,,but next thing I knew, Kevin had me on the floor holding me down and I was screaming at him...fighting him.

After he finally calmed me down....the situation was diffused and I settled down.  Only later to find out that I had somehow pulled a muscle in my rib cage earlier.

So for the next couple of days, I had pain in my chest area...I figured it would go away....but it did not....it  has been getting more localized in the area of pain...

so I bit the bullet and went and  had it x-rayed.  I  have a cracked rib.  No wonder I was hurting so fucking bad....

So now for the next month, I have to take deep breaths 4-5 times an hour as to not develop pnemonia.   

I swear, if it is not one thing it is another with me...never a dull moment.

fuck

S

Jeffrey Dahmer

 So, all my life, I have been fascinated by serial killers.  Not that I want to be one, of course not, but :  How did they become the person that they are?

What happened in their life to change the way their mind thinks?

Why would they kill people?

I am watching a Netflix special 10 episodes on the life of Jeffrey Dahmer.  He is the man that killed and ate people.  He was arrested in 1991.  I remember when he was arrested, I still have the People magazine that had him on the cover...He fascinated me at the time...but not much was told about his life, just his crimes....

This show is about his life......birth to death....He was born in 1960.  (2 years before me)....his father was a doctor and taught his very young son about death.  They would find road kill and his dad would do autopsies on the bodies as the little boy watched.  His father taught him how to give a lobotomy, how to dissect intestines and the heart. This fascinated Jeffrey.  His mother was a drug addict and his parents were abusive to each other, and mentally abusive to Jeffrey.  His mother did not want him...she did not want to be a mother to Jeffrey....His parents divorced....(my mother did not want me either).

As I was watching this part of the show, I recalled how his life was not that unlike my life growing up.  As I watched little Jeffrey at school, the bullying he got, his peculiar traits and actions, this little boy was screaming out for  help...no one saw or heard him...back in the 60's and 70's, children and women did not matter...the public turned their backs on the kids...I was one of those kids too....

As a child, I was bullied.  I did the exact same thing as Jeffrey...I did outlandish things to get attention, to get someone to notice me, to help me.....in the first grade I told my teacher that my dad had been killed in a motorcycle accident.  (not true)  so she wrote a letter to my mom.  She said to give the note to her, I did.  I was beat to within an inch of my life because of it.......the letter brought me more damage....when actually I was screaming out for help..

Another time, my mom sent me to vacation bible school at a neighboring church, and as I was sitting at a table doing crafts, I took off my sweater, and the bruises on my arms were very visible.  The man who was leading the class, saw the bruises...and he said to me "you must have been a very naughty little girl"  in reference to being punished with the bruises.  He did not contact the pastor, he said nothing to my mom....again, I was not seen or heard...no matter how hard as a child I tried, it didn't matter...I was invisible.  

Just like Jeffrey Dahmer.  Inside his home, behind closed doors, he lived a nightmare...his father was rarely home, his father showed absolutely no interest in Jeffrey until Jeff showed an interest in dead animals.  They bonded by doing animal dissections'..Jeff's mom ignored him, called him names, and was a drug addict...she and Jeff's dad screamed at each other all the time, right in front of Jeffrey...

I watched my step dad rape and beat my mother...I sat on the floor and watched....the abuse in my own home behind closed doors...was atrocious.  Not one parent tried to shield me from the abuse..again I was invisible.  Jeffrey was an invisible child too..

So why am I not a serial killer?  When I was 5 or 6, I poured dishwashing soap into my dads drink, hoping it would kill him....I actually did this twice...but my little child mind didn't know how to do this right....but I did try twice to kill the man that was killing me.

My step dad killed all my pets, my bunny, my cat, my dog...all in front of me...he took a bunny out of my hands, twisted its neck killing it then gave it back to me to bury....I was a small child......the mental abuse was over the top......

The reason I am not a serial killer is because my mind split.  It literally became different people to take care of me....I only now remember alot of the abuse because the alters have given me back those memories....but there are more memories that have not been shared with me, yet.

Today, 50 odd years later, I am still trying to come to terms with having DID....on the one hand, DID saved my life, my mind...on the other hand DID has ruined me as an adult.   

Why did my mind split and Jeffreys did not???  It is so weird how the brain works,  what molds and shapes a person,  was Jeffrey born with a mental illness because his mother did drugs while she was pregnant, and that mental illness was being fed by his dad???  Or was he born with a normal healthy brain, and his parents ruined it???

Was I born with a mental illness and did my parents fuel it to the point of it splitting?  Or am I a product of abuse?  Was Jeffrey a product of abuse?  YES, WE BOTH WERE...but his brain went one way, and mine went another....

Jeffrey and I were not the only 60-70s kids that were abused,  in that time era, abuse was rampant...children had no rights, women had no rights, we were only property to the man....it was not a Leave It To Beaver era...that was Hollywood only....I have noticed so many serial killers grew up in that time era....what happened to them??? I will tell you, the same bullshit that happened to me, and Jeffrey Dahmer.

As I am watching this series on Netflix, I am not appalled and sickened by his behavior.  Yes, I had to turn away from the screen because of the animal abuse...I have had to walk away from the show a couple of times....the gore grosses me out...but what upsets me about this show is not Jeffrey and what he did to all those men....

Jeffreys parents, especially  his father is what upsets me.  Every one knew Jeffrey was odd...his parents, his grandmother...but they all ignored the problem...no one ever even tried to get this kid some help...it was atrocious.

Everyone knew I was odd...by 9 years old, I had 7 alternate personalities...of course I was odd...but no one ever tried to help me either, they just turned a blind eye on me, just like Jeffrey, just like all the other serial killers as a rule.  My parents just shoveled me back and forth until I was 18...then I was gone from the home....

Jeffrey at 18, was gone from his home....no one checking on him...no one caring....that was me too.

My abuse spawned Disassociative Identity Disorder.  Jeff's abuse spawned a serial killer, cannibal.  

My mind splitting actually saved my life...it kept me from prison, it kept me from killing others, it kept me alive...they have kept me alive, protecting my mind and helping me to navigate a world that is overwhelming to a person that had no parental guidance.

So as I watch this Netflix series, my heart aches for Jeffrey Dahmer...I can relate on so many levels...

I hope his father and mother are both dead, and I hope they died horrible violent painful deaths....my abuser, the step dad, is dead...but he lived a long life and is buried in a military cemetery in Texas...the other abuser, my mother, is still alive...I cannot be around her....I am waiting for her to die too...then maybe I can live again.....

I am a product of the 60's generation....a generation that ignored their children....a generation of parents that spawned evil people, don't blame Jeffrey Dahmer...blame his parents and society...

Don't blame me for having DID...I am a product of the 60's, blame my parents and society....

S, T, Sophee

back to the drawing board.

 So lots have been going on....first and foremost, this hurricane....I feel so bad for Florida and the Carolinas.we here in VA, at Roanoke, just got a soggy cold wet soaking rain for three days...but that was it.  I have family, brothers, in SC, but of course they have blacklisted me and I don't even have their cell numbers...so I am hoping they are okay...I guess...

As far as the squatter situation, it is still going on.....one day I seem to be doing good, the next, all hell breaks loose.

There was a first....I fell into the deep depression again, but instead of Sophee getting my attention in the way she does...7 stopped Sophee by hurting the part of my body that is Sophees...7 stopped Sophee....this is an internal situation I had no ideal could even happen...

But evidently, in my head, the squatters, or at least a few of them, can communicate with each other, does not seem fair....

Also, in my depressive state, I went into a rage....and my advocate had to tackle me to the ground and hold me tight, so that I would not damage any property or myself...but in the process of holding me down and trying to control my rage, I or somebody scratched the fucking shit out of his back.....my advocate was battered by an alter.....

Who says alters cannot be violent or mean...I am sure they screamed hateful things to him, hit him, scratched him, and all other kinds of means of abuse.  

My advocate had an abusive alcoholic wife, she abused him, beat on him everything and he divorced her, got custody of the kids and moved on...now he is with me....another abusive woman....or women and a 7.

He is no better off with me.....but at least I don't drink myself into a feeling sorry for myself rage....it just happens when I get frustrated or confused or fuck, basically anything....I am a nightmare.

I would fly into rages with John, who would in turn, hold his body against mine up against a wall until the fight left me, then he would let me drop to the floor and he would walk away.....

My advocate, at least, does not walk away...he understands better my mental disorder and works with me and them.....but is it doing any good?

Some days yes, there is improvement, then other days all that improvement is shot to fucking hell......and its back to the goddamn drawing board....

Sparrow