A teaching moment

 Learning I have DID, remembering all the fucking trauma, and learning a new life skill...living with alters,  I felt like, finally, maybe I have a purpose.."to help others with DID and their loved ones".

Maybe all that abuse was for me to speak out about mental illness and DID.  Maybe I was meant to be abused as a child, so I could be an example later...

People who survive cancer, war, career changes, deaths of loved ones, etc...use their experiences to help others, to share what worked for them and hopefully others can learn from that experience.

People share weight loss diets, exercise routine, cancer meds and food, christian promises, people share in grief and support each other..and it is appreciated and spread to others.

Only it is different with DID.  Sharing my diagnosis, sharing some of my abuse and the struggles I have, are not edifying to anyone.  NO one can relate...No one speaks about it, because frankly they don't believe it or have a hard time believing it, and if someone is doubtful, they do not share it with others...

and it does not help when the medical establishment doesn't believe it either.

So, my whole fucking life has been without meaning and purpose.  

When I had the breast cancer scare, I had all kinds of support, people from all over trying to encourage and support me, because breast cancer is socially acceptable and everyone knows someone who has had it....DID is a silent killer.  It hides in silence and it kills in silence and is blamed on depression.

DID is covert,  it hides easily and puts on a smile...

If it was planned for me to be born, to be hated, abused and cast aside like a piece of dog shit, so I could develop DID and become a freak show to "supposedly help others", then the joke is on me.

I am not entertainment.  I am a real person...I just happen to be a person with fucking alternate personalities.  Thanks MOM.  Thanks for fucking ruining my life,  ruining everything...for ruining my chances of a successful marriage,  ruining my chances of having a career, ruining my chances of living without hiding, ruining my ability to have and hold on to friends...Ruining my brain.  I am ruined, just like all the burnt meals you cooked...ruined but eat it anyway.

There is no teaching moment for me, or Kevin.  Tough to teach when there are no students and no interest, and no desire to learn...so, I am finished.

I feel like the King: with no clothes.  I stand up and try and speak to the masses, only I am naked and the masses are laughing at me....

The best thing for me and these damn fucking alters is to just shut the fuck up.  So, here it is.

I am shutting the fuck up.

S, 7, Sophee

back inside the closet

 So, I think I want to delete my Sparrowisms Facebook page.  There is just simply no interaction, no questions or discussions, lots of members see the posts, but only 2 or 3 (out of 50+members) might comment.

Our You Tube video's are the same.   In fact the only video that have more than 200 views are the one "My Story"...That tells me people only want to see the freak show. People want to hear the nitty gritty details of my abuse, not me trying to survive it.  No one is interested in actually learning and educating themselves on DID.

Kevin is wasting his time.  And I am just being more and more humiliated about my DID.  It is fucking humiliating for me to keep putting my DID out there, I look like a fool.  DID is not a glamorous condition, not like cancer or diabetes or Bi-polar issues, all the other glamorous popular illnesses and disorders.

DID is nothing more than a freaking Hollywood manufactured "movie of the week" to rake in views.  I cannot compete with Hollywood, I cannot, ever, put the Hollywood influence and ideals to rest.  

Social Media and Hollywood have sabotaged those of us with this condition that is REAL.   I am sick of Tic Toc glamorizing and making DID look fun....I am tired of Hollywood making DID into a monster that kills people or hurts others...

People with DID are nothing but the butt of everyone's jokes, certainly Tic Toc, You Tube and Hollywood.

It is time for me to go back into the closet.   It is not to late for me to hide who I really am, who we are...in fact, my husband would be overjoyed if my DID "went away"...Life is easier when you live in secret.

Secrets keep you safe.  Keeping your mouth shut, keeps you safe, playing dead, keeps you safe.  Being dead is safest yet.

So, its the closet for me, my safe place, for now.

S, Tessa

NOT LUCKY

 When I got with my husband, I was told I got the hottest guy in high school.  I was told I was marrying into a good family.  I was told how lucky I was to be a Krupovage.

For 34 years of marriage,  every time I messed up or said something not very flattering towards John,  I was reminded how "lucky I was to have a man like that", "how lucky I was to have a good moral christian man" "how lucky I was because he was such a good person"...it was ALWAYS about how fucking wonderful and perfect John was, and I was blessed.  I was told "I wish I had a man like him.." blah blah blah

In all those years, never once, neither by any one in my family or Johns family,  was I ever told "John is so lucky to have me", or "how blessed he is to have me"...

I was left "thanking my lucky stars" I got a decent guy...never mind that I was a decent girl,  a girl who wanted nothing more than to be a mother...but the minute I married John, I was never good enough, smart enough, rich enough whatever....

I started to resent John, I started to hate him, I didn't want to be around Mr Perfect anymore, because I would never rate.

I left Mr Perfect.

Mr Perfect didn't love me, he loved himself...so much that he never saw the "DID" in me...it was about him.

I meant another man.  A man, who actually saw me...embraced me, and accepted me.   He tells me "how lucky he is to have me in his life"...and the feeling is mutual.

He decided, we decided, to start a You Tube Video about DID and me.  I was ready to tell the world who and what I really am...so we started the process.

We set up a private facebook page,  we have filmed now around 32 videos...but I have noticed something about the comments in those video sections and the comments on our FB page.  They all say the same thing..."How lucky and blessed I am to have a man like Kevin"....its always about Kevin...his research, his words, his understanding, his wisdom, his smartness....JUST LIKE JOHN, everyone looks to him, and they look past me.

I don't want to grow to hate Kevin.  I was under the impression that we were a team with this DID endeavor.   But in reality, its Kevins baby and I am just the sick one...the patient...the one with no control.

I bet people sit back and say amongst themselves "I am sure glad I am not Kevin...what a nightmare it must be for him to deal with a mentally sick person"...dude deserves a medal.

I am working just as hard, if not fucking harder with this condition than he is....he is just looking at a book...I AM THAT BOOK.  But he is the one winning all the awards....the pats on the back, the praise and adoration,  the acknowledgement of a video well done, and "thank you for helping Sparrow, She is so fucking lucky to have you"....the brain damaged fucking idiot that is so goddamn blessed to have yet another man to take all the credit for a job well done......another man to make me feel insignificant and not worth a shit, after all its a mans world..

Kevin tries his best to help me not feel this way and he certainly does not lord over me his intelligence...but when that is all I fucking read in comments, then it must be true.  

I AM SO GODDAMN LUCKY AND BLESSED

S

 

Panic attack

 PTSD:  Post traumatic Stress Disorder

"A disorder in which a person has difficulty recovering after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event."  

"The condition may last months or years, with triggers that can bring back memories of the trauma accompanied by intense emotional and physical reactions."

DID is created by a child who is experiencing extreme trauma with no avenue of escape or help...the child is helpless...

People who have DID have PTSD, we have panic attacks, and it is real.  When a PTSD event is happening, in our brains it is happening NOW, the danger is NOW,  flight kicks in...your whole body changes, your heart rate goes nuclear,  your body starts shaking uncontrollably, your mind is racing a mile a minute,  you cannot think straight...it is a horrible horrible devastating time during the panic/PTSD occurrence.  You are in survival mode...

People looking in would think " lock her up, she is out of control"...and that is what happens, we are locked up, drugged, then let out...NEVER is our DID addressed...its "drug them"...

This is why Kevin did not call 911...he did not want me drugged and put in a place that I was NOT SAFE.  So he did what I needed:

He held me tight to him, he kept assuring me "you are safe, I am here, nothing is going to happen," over and over, until the episode calmed down.  I did not need to be drugged, I needed to be reassured that I was safe.  Then, he talked with the alters to let them know also, that they are safe....that right there...helped me.

But sadly, so many people with DID and PTSD and other disassociative disorders simply do not have a support system, someone who actually knows what is going on...so when an acute PTSD attack happens, those people are simply locked up and drugged...this is so sad.

Will I have other panic attacks?  Of course, this is the life of a person who has DID...triggers never go away...but with understanding of my alters, reassurance that we are all okay, the ability to communicate with them, and never giving up on us,  goes a long way in stabilizing our life.  I have that with my advocate, Kevin.

Today,  I am still recovering from that PTSD acute attack...I can still feel the fear deep down inside..I  feel like a china doll,  that I could break easily...I feel so vulnerable, still.  The paranoia is still there, it is less, but its still there.

S, Tessa 

SHIT

 AND THE HITS KEEP COMING

FUCK FUCK FUCK.  DO I HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR EVERY DAMN THING? WHEN NO ONE ELSE HAS TO APOLOGIZE FOR THEIR DAMN THING?

DON'T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE

 I am so fucking depressed right now...I can barely breath.  I feel like my whole life is about to explode....

My landlord is kicking out tenants to put in young single women...by doing this, the apartment where I live will no longer be a quiet safe place for me....already, there is fucking drama and so much traffic I can't even park in my own space half the time....they party and drive too fast for my area....it is making me sick at my stomach....

I am no longer safe...I don't know all these young people, I don't party, I cannot even leave my apartment for fear they will break in and steal or destroy something....I am so afraid with their fast careless driving down the driveway, that they will run over a squirrel or raccoon or hit a deer in my complex area...

Kevin has talked with the Landlord, and he says He will never ask me to leave, but he is chasing me out anyway....he is fucking the new little girl he evicted my downstairs neighbor for, and is moving her in...already fucking drama there.....having my landlord here all the fucking time now is just like having your parents living with you.....and these people have no respect for anything...they leave trash, cigarette butts and all kinds of shit everywhere...I will not be the den mother and clean up after a bunch of slob selfish fucking single idiots.

Now he is kicking out my neighbor I share the top floor with...he wants to put in another fucking young single woman....even though Kevin has told him over and over he wants to move in here...that way he can take care of me...but the landlord seems to only want young single women here....this is not a fucking whorehouse...this is in a respectable quiet affluent neighborhood and the landlord is making it a fucking drug zone.....

Then, Kevin and I are growing apart....our relationship is changing to just a fucking guardianship...and a Video channel....

THIS IS MY LIFE

My life has always fucking been this way...

Promises made, security given, safety given...then yanked out from under me.   No wonder 7 tries so hard to change my heart...they know the pattern of my life....they know what is coming....they are so much smarter than me...

Stupid me, so fucking vulnerable and desperate for a normal life that I will FUCKING NEVER HAVE.  I believe promises that are made to me, I believe people are sincere, when really they are just giving lip service.

I try so hard to trust and give myself to others...and I am only slapped in the face and disregarded like a dirty rag.

I left Oklahoma because of all the broken promises, the lies and manipulation,  the non-safety of being around my mother, I left so I could find happiness and safety...to finally be able to live for myself, or rather our fucking selves.....I thought I had finally found that place...I was wrong...I am always wrong...

I should have known that there is "NO GODDAMN FUCKING SAFETY ANYWHERE FOR ME...THERE IS NO TRUE FUCKING FRIENDSHIPS, EVERYBODY LIES AND MANIPULATES FOR THEIR OWN SELFISH NEEDS...NO BODY KEEPS THEIR WORD ANYMORE...ITS ALL LIES...

I AM SO FUCKING ALONE, I AM SO UNSAFE, I AM SO UNHAPPY, I AM SO DISCOURAGED,  I AM SICK OF TRYING TO LIVE....

YOU WOULD THINK AFTER 60 FUCKING YEARS I WOULD GET IT THROUGH MY MANY FUCKING BRAINS THAT NOTHING WILL EVER CHANGE.  

I DON'T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE...

S. 7, sophee

Robot

 I am nothing but a robot.

going through the motions to live,

but not living life.

I have nothing to look forward too, 

but sad memories.

Promises and agreements made,

that are always broken or forgotten.

I have no goals, no ambition, no purpose.

I suck money from my X husband,

because I cannot work or support myself.

I sit in my treehouse and watch the critters,

that is my life....

I get pets, because they give me something to do, a responsibility to keep alive...

Is this my life now?

An old crone, sitting in a treehouse, tending to the wildlife...

Alone, hollow and rejected, not real.

I am a robot...nothing but moving parts, with no soul.

Trying to please everyone, 

at the expense of myself, my identity.

A robot with moving parts that have no heart..

A robot with no identity, but called many names.

Everyday, I count the minutes until the day is over,

one day closer to death.

Nobody will miss a robot, my parts will be nothing but scrap...

I try and stay busy with mindless shit...

Just like a robot, programed to do certain things, tasks, whatever.

Nothing but a rusty old robot...

Sammy

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I just read this...Sammy has a way of putting how I feel into words, she is spot on...I think she knows my soul better than any of the others....

S

Duck continued...

 A long time ago I wrote about a memory of my pet duck...

Yesterday, I remembered more detail about that duck...

An over view:  After my mother had left the abuser, and later when I was 10 ish,  her then boyfriend, bought me, my sister and brother baby ducks for Easter.  

We kept the ducks in a detached garage.  But the ducks were very loud and people were complaining, so two of the ducks were taken away, I don't know where they went, maybe they were set free by water somewhere, I don't know, but the third duck, my duck, we kept because that duck couldn't quack...

One morning, a dog got into the garage and attacked the duck, we did not know because we could not hear the duck quacking...but when I went out, the duck was severely injured.  My moms, boyfriend, told us that we had to put the duck out of its misery.  My mom took my sister and brother in the house, but I stayed with the duck...

The boyfriend, took a knife and cut the ducks head off, the head fell to the ground but the beak kept moving, trying to quack, I will never get that image out of my head...

That was all I remembered, until yesterday.

A day or week or month after the duck was killed,  we were having dinner, some type of stew, and my mother told me that we were eating my duck....the boyfriend had butchered it, skinned it, whatever and my mom cooked it and fed it to us.

I don't know if I watched him skin and butcher the duck, I have no memory after seeing the ducks detached head quacking, then the dinner...

I understand that people eat duck...but did my mom have to let me know that we were eating my pet....OMG

She was being cruel, I was a child and we were eating my pet....just more bullshit from a bullshit life....

Anyway,  I am still trying to process this new memory, I do not know if I will remember the butchering and skinning...Did I stay and watch?  I have no fucking ideal, and frankly I don't want to know...

I literally hate remembering all this bullshit.  Why can't the alters just keep that fucking pile of shit memories to themselves?  

For me, working through trauma and memories, only upset me more, it does not help with the DID, it just gives me more sadness...

I am so fucking sad all the damn time....I should rename myself, "Sad Krupovage"...

S

Sleeping friend

 Here is the number one reason I cannot have close friends:

TRIGGERS:  I have two close friends, I cherish their friendship as they both know of my DID.   They have watched some of my videos and they understand the concept of triggers...

Yet, they still fill my messenger box with their "drama, and trauma"...I want to be there for them, I want to reassure them and encourage them, but I cannot.  One friend, who was abused by her mother, insists on relating all that baggage to me, in detail.  THIS IS A HUGE TRIGGER FOR ME...my mother was one of my abusers and to read all of someone elses trauma and results of parental abuse, triggers my alters...NONE of my alters like my mother....conversations like these,  fuck with my head.

Yet, I still want to be there for them.....but how can I when I cannot even commiserate or speak about their issues....I am no friend to them....

Another friend, has chronic health issues and is thinking and talking about suicide....ANOTHER HUGE TRIGGER FOR ME...as most of my life I have fought against suicidal ideology, but letting her pour out her heart and soul, anguish and hardships on me, may help her, but it leaves my head reeling....I start to get the suicidal thoughts because, when an answer cannot be found, or a condition cannot be cured, suicide is easy.....I have no answers and no cure...so for someone to speak with me about that in their life,  stirs up my depression and hopelessness....there is no cure for my brain cancer, there is no cure for my DID...I am in just as hopeless a situation as her...but I struggle on...trying to live another day.

Friends should be able to tell their other friends anything they need to say....friends should be able to encourage and help them in anyway possible, friends are there for their friends....

I am only able to be a superficial friend...WHY? because I have to be tip toed around in certain conversations,  I cannot be a close best friend to anybody because of my DID.

DID IS NOT CONDUCIVE TO HONEST OPEN FRIENDSHIPS

DID hides in my brain, conducting inventory of my friends, deciding who I can talk to and who I can't...DID intervenes if I get anxious about certain conversations...and they THEY take over....7 especially tries to sever any friendship ties because they know all my friendships end in disaster, so 7 turns my mind to avoid it.

It is better to be a loner with my DID.  If I don't seek out any close friends, if I cut it off with friends who are going through horrible issues like I have, then the triggers go down....7 knows my heart.

I absolutely love my two previous mentioned friends.  My heart aches because their hearts are aching...but there is nothing, not a damn thing I can do, because of triggers in personal conversations....when a friend relives an incident and tells me about it, it brings up my own memories of horrible incidences and I start to spiral down...7 stops that, Sophee stops that...they all stop it, by putting me to sleep.

 A sleeping friend, is no fucking friend at all.....

S, Tessa, 7

Interlopers

 I miss so much...I miss a lot of reality when my alters are fronting...I miss crucial comments made during get-togethers at times because for whatever reason, Tessa or 7 decide to front, then I look like a fool because "how could I not know that, I was there.."  it is maddening, and does not a damn thing for my insecurity issues.   It makes me come across as "not giving a shit what that person has said"...I look snobby and disinterested...stupid

And I am sure, people get tired of having to "fill me in" when I was there all along...except, my body was there, but my mind was not...my mind was somebody else's mind...

For example:  say Kevin and I go kayaking.  I love kayaking, but so does Ally and 7, so after we are finished Kayaking, my advocate will say something about the lake or boomer or whatever and I have "no ideal" what he is talking about.   So he will tell me, so and so was out...that pisses me off, Kayaking is my thing, not theirs!  If I go do something that I, Sparrow, want to do, then why the fuck do they have to high jack my day for themselves?  So, I miss things, even when I am fucking there.

This goes for almost everything:  shopping,  dancing, sex, get togethers with friends,  anything I, Sparrow, wants to do or is doing, they feel like they can just pop in and enjoy my day too....They are interlopers.

I appreciate the reason they were created, looking back I am grateful for their interloping on abusive times, protecting my mind...but that was a fucking long time ago...I am no longer in an unsafe place around unsafe people...I do not need their advice or presence anymore.

I am a grown ass adult,  I should be able to handle life on life's terms like a mature adult.   But, obviously, I cannot.  If I could then the alters would just fucking leave me alone, but they have handicapped my maturity level significantly...I have not been able to learn how to navigate "upsetting situations" as an adult...my alters swoop down and take care of everything for me...they are my constant babysitters, why?  because I am so fucked up, they know that leaving me to my own devices is a disaster waiting to happen,  a mental disaster.

My brain is extremely immature...it was never allowed to mature normally like all the other "singlets"...My advocate is very mature, he can handle emotional situations, he can handle devastating news, he can handle stress and commotion,  he can fix things,  he can retain knowledge and then apply it as needed....I am so jealous of him.

I want to be normal.   Switching is a cowards way out.   I, Sparrow, must be the most cowardly irresponsible ignorant person out there for my 7 alters to feel they have to be the responsible ones and take care of me....I can't believe that Tessa is so smart, so together, so accomplished at tasks,  and I am so fucking inept.   Tessa took away my ability to become smart...she did it all, school, marriage, kids, jobs...I did nothing but "sleep" during those times...so I learned not a damn thing.  Tessa kept me "stupid"....Tessa did my busy work.

7 kept me from being able to have sustainable relationships, whether boyfriend/girlfriend, wife,  7 wrecked my heart and my feelings towards people because they felt it would hurt me....so 7 did my emotional work for me.... 

Ally played for me....she took my playtime, and still does.

Sammy took my, what I thought, were my writing skills, like with poems and short stories...I thought that was me, my creative mind, but it was not....it was Sammy....Sammy took my creativity and my love of dance and music...Sammy took my dance and made it hers.

And Lilly?  Lilly started this all...that fucking Chrissy Doll...

I want so badly to be 100% Sparrow...but I am only 1/8 Sparrow, that is not even enough of a percentage to get Native American benefits, 1/8 indian means nothing.....1/8th Sparrow, means nothing....

So if I am 1/8 Sparrow, that means each of the other alters are only 1/8th too...meaning we are all a community of nothing, mutts....

1/8...I am only 1/8th of a life.....

Sparrrrrrrrrrrooooooooowwwwwww

Mothers, mothers day

 As adults, we like to think we are mature, sensible, law abiding adults.  We, as a rule, know what manners are, what is socially acceptable and what is not (like farting in a restaurant, not cool).   

As women, we are taught as a child how to sew, cook, clean, feed kids, etc.  Our mothers teach us all those things...our mothers tell us about our periods, and teach us about birth control and sex.  Our mothers teach us how to groom ourselves, do our make up, to shave, all the female things that women do.  

But, I did not have a mother that taught me that.  I was never taught how to do a specific thing correctly, for example wash dishes...she would have me climb up on a chair to wash the dishes, and if they were dirty, or I splashed soap and water on the floor, I was yanked out of that chair and beat...I was never taught how to do something right, I was only punished for doing it wrong.   I was constantly set up for failure.

My mother did not teach me how to cook.   She did not prepare me for my period...I learned about that in school, then actually started when I was staying with my birth father in 6th grade.  I was horrified because I had to tell him....no mother around for me....

Once we moved out of the abusive house, our new neighborhood (my grandpas house) there were lots of kids to play with, but they were all boys...so I played with the boys...I was a tom-boy.  I was constantly dirty and doing boy things...my mother decided to send me to "Charm School" why?  because she could not be bothered to teach me how to be a "girl", so she had somebody else to do it.  It was there I learned how to use make up, how to dress "like a girl" how to act, I was taught rudimentary manners, basically I was taught to act like a girl and not a boy....But I hated this school....

When I was a teenager and living with my birth father, his then wife, taught me how to properly set a table.  How to properly make a bed, how to tweeze my eyebrows, how to cook (sort of), she took me under her wing and taught me all her feminine wiles.  She was a very beautiful woman, (kinda looked like Farrah Fawcett), but she did not teach me about sex.  In fact, my dad taught me about sex and birth control...his words and lecture "get two aspirins, and hold them tightly between your knees"...that was it.  But it was too late, as I started having sex when I was 14...consensual sex that is.

When I got married, I was fixated on getting pregnant.  I knew how to do that, just have sex every day for a month and you are guaranteed to get pregnant...it worked for me all three times (even though I miscarried once)...but as far as being a wife, I had no clue what that meant or entailed.   I never had a role model for a mother or wife, all the mother figures in my life were horrible...even the one that taught me most of stuff I know, at the time was carrying on with another man under my daddies nose...My mother worked full time, she did not do laundry or cook, so I had really no clue how to properly do laundry.  I did not know how to iron, or even clean a house.

So the first years of my marriage, I did as I was told, taught myself how to cook, and got busy raising kids...but once my kids were grown and gone I found myself in a house with a stranger....I did not love him, I hated sex with him, I hated his religion, we never bonded...he was just a guy I picked out to be the father of my kids...never to be with him forever.....

See,  none of my parents ever stayed with their wives or husbands, my mom and dad were both married and divorced three times....I had no role model of a couple staying married for 50-60 years...that just did not happen in my family...

I spent my life, teaching my kids how to be adults...I taught them how to do laundry, how to cook, how to properly clean a house.  I taught my daughter how to drive.  I talked with my kids about sex and birth control...I showed my daughter how to shave, do her hair, and do her make up....I showed up for my kids.....I showed up for every extracurricular activity they ever had...I was there.

None of my parents have ever shown up for me.   Why?  because they had other lives and I was the unfortunate mistake.  It was easy to put me in the closet for the new families...You see I have 3 half brothers, and 1 half sister.  The rest were step siblings...I am alone.  A one of a kind...I am an orphan of sorts...the stray mutt.

That was my destiny...to figure out how to be a girl, to figure out how to be an adult...to figure out how to be a wife, how to have a job..etc..and the only help I had was Tessa, 7, Sophee, Lilly, Sammy and Ally...my only help was in my head....mainly it was Tessa.  The grown up.

I often wonder what it would have been like for me, if I had had two loving parents.  A mom that taught me how to live, a dad who protected me and taught me stuff,  parents that showed up for my extra curricular activities, that praised a good report card, that praised me instead of punish me...what would that have been like?  I am jealous of my kids...they had that mother...they had me....but I had no one.  I was alone in my motherhood,  I had to figure everything out...I have always had to figure out everything for myself...it is a wonder I am still here to today...alive and not in prison....

I think I am not in prison because of the extreme abuse I got as a child when I did something wrong...so I have been so anal about doing what is right, obeying all the laws, obeying my husband, etc...because I have such a fear of punishment...and prison is punishment.  I can't go back to prison...I lived in prison for 9 years, then paroled, but still abused by the system most of my adult life...

I want to do what is right.  I hate being wrong, because in being wrong means being punished...and nobody notices a person that is right.  A person that is right, is not bucking the system, is not being the center of attention, is not drawing attention to themselves, being right enables me to hide.  

Anyhow,  not sure why I wrote this blog....but not having a mother and role model has been weighing heavy on my mind lately, not sure why.  

Its Mothers day this Sunday.  But I did not get my mother a card, she was never a mother to me.  I will also not receive a card from any of my kids...even though I taught them to send cards...I might get a text from them...maybe, maybe not...You see, I left their dad, I moved away...so in their eyes, I am no longer worth the effort...so maybe a quick text because it is socially acceptable, not because they love me and were proud of having me as their mother...NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN PROUD OF ME...CERTAINLY NOT MY FAMILY...OR MY FRIENDS...NOBODY.  

My advocate is the only person ever to tell me "I am proud of you"...pretty sad huh?

S, Tessa

Mental Prison

 Yesterday, I was looking through all my videos on my phone.  I ran across some vidoes taken in 2021 of John and kids playing in the pool.  I was taping it...and I really felt a tug of heartache....I miss my life sometimes in Oklahoma.  I miss my kids and grandkids..the grandkids are growing up so fast and I am missing all of it.

This morning, I got 12 pictures from John.  Of him, Taryn and Kingston hiking....John never took me hiking...he never took me anywhere, and now he is hiking and doing things I have always loved to do...Is he trying to show me he has changed?  Is he trying to rub my kids in my face?  Is he trying to make me homesick so I will come back?

I loved the pictures...but,  John will not acknowledge my alters...he ignores it...I think all the bittersweet feelings I am feeling are Tessa.  She loves John, she misses him.   John denies Tessa, that has gotta hurt her too...

I feel so sad today, I want to hug my grandsons...I want to see my dad, even though he refuses to call or text me...I miss him.  

Every day I am gone from Oklahoma is a day without my kids...a day without sharing in their joys and heartaches, a day of them growing up without me...another day, that I am distance from them...one day I will be nothing to them...just papa's X wife....when he finds another woman to love and marry, then my grandkids will forget me altogether.  I will only be a distance memory they think about when they see a picture of me..thats it...a nothing memaw...a has been Memaw...

But I brought that all on myself, I chose to leave Oklahoma, I chose to move far away...I chose to abandon my family...I deserve all the heartache I receive.   

I once said Oklahoma was a prison to me...and when I left, I felt like I had been released from death row...but now,  my death sentence is in my head and my heart.I am in mental prison..the knowledge that I am no longer a part of a family...and soon I will no longer be a part of anything....just a lonely old dried up woman who has made a life of bad decisions...

I deserve to be lonely, alone and isolated...but fuck, I will never be alone, at least not in my head, because I have fucking alters that will never leave...they have ruined my life.

I am so sad...

s, tessa

I don't want to be alone...

 I am so scared.  I do not want to be alone...

When I was married, my husband was never around, he was either working at his job, or traveling with his job..I was alone.  Which was fine, because I didn't want to be around him anyway, but if I had wanted to be around him, it would have never happened.  You see, his job is way too important to him, more important than his wife...He could never make the time for me....

I am so scared.  I do not want to be alone...

Now,  I have a person in my life that I love and want to be around and spend time with.  But, this person, like my husband, puts too much into his job.  He works so hard, he does everybody's job, he has to take care of two departments at the VA, he is continuously called out of his areas to take care of other peoples areas...He is literally working himself into an early grave.  All I ever hear is how lazy and horrible everyone is at the VA and he has to clean up all their messes...He seems to have made it his mission to keep the entire fucking hospital clean, up and running...So he works everyday for 8 hours doing the job of 3-4 people, because they refuse to do their jobs correctly.

I understand that he does what he does, not for the VA Hospital, but for the veterans.  I get that, they deserve a clean, comfortable, staffed hospital.  BUT WHY IS IT CONTINGENT ON KEVIN TO GET THAT DONE??

Three weeks in a row now, on Wednesday (which is his Saturday) he was so wiped out, so tired that he had to sleep his entire day off....that leaves only one day off for me....yesterday, he was so dizzy, he was extremely fatigued, he could not even think or talk straight or walk straight for that matter....WHY? because he thinks he is a super man.  He can do it all.....I was terrified yesterday, I half expected him to die of a stoke or heart attack...I was even going over CPR in my head.

He is a heavy smoker and his diet is fucking horrible....he has high cholesterol because of all the fast food and frozen foods he eats...and now he is working himself to death...literally...and I am going to be left all alone again....He refuses to believe he needs to slow down (he only gives me lip service about slowing down)..why can't he see he is in his 60's not 30's?  I frankly don't give a rats ass about that VA hospital.   It needs to be shut down, it is horrible to its patients, it is ran by people who don't give a shit, and the employees doesn't give a shit either...give me my government payday...fuck. 

And he is going to kill himself doing a job that "doesn't matter" because it is a dying effort...and what about my alters?  They have finally trusted someone, he has done so much for them, only to fucking die and leave them too???????????

I am so scared.  I don't want to be alone.

If he doesn't change his lifestyle and workstyle, he will be dead soon...there is only so much a body can take...I am so scared....

I don't want to be alone....

S, 7, Tessa

Who has changed?

 Why is it that everyone I love says "I have changed?"  How have I changed?

I stopped going to a christian church..was that the change?

I legally separated from my husband..was that the change?

I left Oklahoma and moved 1000 miles away..was that the change?

If that was the change, then why was I "forced to change?"

I don't think I have changed, I think I have finally grown a pair of balls and decided to live the rest of my life in freedom.

I don't have to go to fucking church...nobody here expects me to do that.

I don't have to be around my husband,  I don't have to live under his "holy spirit" anymore...

I now live in a beautiful part of the country, doing things I love and actually enjoying my life...is that the change?

My family refused to see me for who I really was...I have never changed...I am still me.  Only, I am finally the "me" living for "me".

If that is selfish, fuck it, I don't care, I have lived my life taking care of literally everyone else at the expense of myself...and when I finally decide to live for me...I HAVE CHANGED...FUCK THAT SHIT.

Maybe they need to change....I am realizing that it is not always me, its more them...they need to grow up, get their heads out of that fucking bible, and open their eyes to reality.  And the reality is THEY ARE THE FUCKING ASSHOLES...THEY NEED TO CHANGE...

I refuse their demands, I am out of prison and intend to stay that way.

S, 7

Why Kaos?

 I have not blogged in awhile.  I have been struggling with so many things.

My dad:  wanted a flip phone and a landline..he said that is why he doesn't call or answer his phone, it is messed up. (he has a smart phone), before he got sick, he had no problem with that phone.  John went and bought him a flip phone, took it to him, and he did not want it, nor does he want a landline....John said his sound was turned off on his phone.  Well you have to actively turn your phone off or the volume down.  He either did this without realizing it, or he did it on purpose.  Or someone else did.  Well, since his phone is fine, he will call me whenever he feels like it...I will not keep bothering him, as he does not respond to my calls, messages or anything.  David has not been keeping me up to date on dad, so, fuck it.  And, of course, my mother would never in a million years call me...

Then yesterday, was a fucking mess....From the moment I woke up, it was a disaster from the get go....for whatever reason, I had a severe panic attack and Kaos fronted...she never fronts except in specific situations...this was not her "normal" situation to front...and it scares the fuck out of me, when a fragment alter raises their ugly heads...

Then Kevin and I took a day trip to watch a Civil War Reenactment.  That part was pretty fun, shopping at different shops was nice, but it crashed and burned when I, and 7, saw a man beating his dog after leaving him locked up in a hot car....the cops came out, and I was almost arrested for assault.  Verbal assault....towards the animal abuser...I don't remember the details, but I feel inside the horror of witnessing that and extreme anger....so it fucked up the rest of my day.

Trying to sleep that night was out of the question....

Even when I have trouble remembering the details of a specific event, I can still feel the emotions they can cause...but the problem is, I can't put the emotion where it needs to be, so it leaves me all fucked up....trying to figure out the impossible, unless the alters let me have the memories...I don't know why the fuck I am feeling a certain way...

And that right there, makes me feel crazy as fuck...truly mentally ill....

Kevin has tried to explain all the events of this day to me, but hearing is one thing, remembering is something else....and accepting is even worse....

No wonder I feel lost all the fucking time....

S