merchandise

 Yesterday was my "wedding anniversary".  I am legally separated from my husband for the last 6 yrs, but we are still legally married.   So yesterday was my 40th wedding anniversary.

I cannot believe that I have spent 40 years in prison.  What was my crime?

My crime was ignorance.  I had no ideal that getting married to John would be a life sentence in prison.  I am talking about psychological and religious prison, where I was forced to believe and act a certain way.   I was forced to go along with my husbands authoritarian beliefs.   

I was taken care of physically, but emotionally and all the other ways I was constantly tortured and manipulated by a man who believes that GOD is the ruler of this world.   

A man who would not "listen" to me when I was confused, scared or remembering past abuses.  I was always told "look to god, pray about it, and god will answer your prayers and take care of you."  only god did not.  All god did was shut my mouth and force me to continue to live in this brainwashing atmosphere.

I was finally able to break out of prison and leave....but I could not leave with a divorce and to this day, my husband continues to tell me he loves me, dreams about me and thinks about me all the time...and he is praying that god will return me (his merchandise) back to him.

I am nothing but merchandise to him.  A means to an end....a tool.

He has turned my kids against me, telling them I "left for another man", which is soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo fucking not true.  I left because of him, and I discovered that I could have a life, my way....and this is making him crazy with jealousy and "righteous" anger.  John failed his marriage, not me.

The fault is entirely his and his gods issue....I am free except for the lifetime parole I have to deal with....

40 years of my 61 years,  in captivity....sigh

S

I wonder.

 On my cellphone I have a folder called Samsung Notepad.  I keep shopping list there and other reminders.  Recently, I was looking through the notepad and saw this.  I did not write this, I am not sure when it was written, but I am pretty sure it was Sammy that wrote it.  She seems to be my poet:

_____________________________________________________

I wonder:

what would it be like

to speak without a tongue,

To see see clearly

yet have no eyes.

and smell fear,

but haven't nose.

I wonder:

How do I touch,

when my hands are tied?

when do I run,

when my feet won't move...

How, does my heart live,

while refusing to beat....

I wonder.

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

employee

 So, yesterday, monday the 11th was my dads actual birthdate.  The family threw a party for him the day before, that i was not aware of.  But, on the 11th I called him to say Happy Birthday.

He told me about the party and how nice it was.  He also told me how lonely he was with mom in the dementia hospital.  I asked him if my brother was visiting him at all.  My brother lives in my dads home with his new wife.  The home is around 5 miles from where my dad is at the retirement center.   

My dad said that David does not come around to visit him hardly ever, in fact, I call and check on him more than David or Suzy.  He also said the person that visits him the most is my husband.  How sad is that?  My brother cannot be bothered by his dad.  My brother is living free in a home....my brother has mooched money from dad his whole life...my brother is a loser.   Its all about him the "golden child".....fuck

Then my dad asked me if I was ever going to be able to come to Oklahoma.  I told him "no".  He started crying.......and of course, this made me feel guilty as hell.  Again the social acceptable thing ate at me.  I want to see my dad, but I do not want to see John or my kids or anybody else.  I told my dad that no one contacts me either, not the kids or any family, only John.  My dad said that I did not need permission to call him....WHY CAN'T HE CALL ME?  WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THE ONE TO CALL OR MAKE THE FIRST MOVE?  

When I told my husband about how I was so hurt by not knowing about the party, and how I felt the pictures were a kick in the gut....I tried to let him know MY feelings on this, being left out, etc...and John, in perfect John order said, "I do not know how to facetime, and I didn't think about calling you"..."but I sent you pictures...I thought I was doing the right thing and I am creamed for it"....

He didn't acknowledge my feelings or thoughts, he flipped it around to make it all about him....then he told me he thinks about me all the time, he dreams about me, he loves me....BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT

If he truly loved me, he would acknowledge my feelings, he would acknowledge my DID, he would try and be learning about the disorder, he would think about my ideals or thoughts or emotions....but he does not, he only thinks about JOHN..

I love my dad, he never physically hurt me, he took care of me, fed me, clothed me, paid for my college...I spent years and years traveling to go and see them, to take care of his mother, to take care of him and mom....I WAS THE ONE THAT WAS ALWAYS THERE FOR THEM....NOT SUZY, NOT DAVID, BUT ME.

And now that I am stepping down as doting daughter, are my brother and sister stepping up?  NO NO NO so my dads tears and loneliness is now my fault, because I cannot be there and there is no one for my dad....I have abandoned the family.....its my fault he is lonely, its my fault....

So the piece of sucker I have been given, is guilt and tears....I am only wanted in Oklahoma so I can clean Johns house, babysit the grandkids, give the kids money, loan my car out, and take care of my dad....I am an employee of the Krupovage Troutman family.  I am not an individual person with my own ideology, I am a walking babysitter, maid, cook, errand runner, etc...I quit that job and left and I will not go back to it....never.

I realize that my dad could easily die, he is 82 and his health is failing, in fact, it has been failing for some time.  I am perfectly aware that I may never see him alive again...how does that make me feel?  CONFLICTED AS HELL.

WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSE TO DO????

s

another broken sucker

 So yesterday, I was again given vanilla ice cream and pieces of a broken sucker.

I am so tired of getting my needs met after I "throw a fit" or "say something"....nothing changes unless I get upset and finally speak my mind.  Then for the next couple of days I will be pacified with my "wants or needs", then it will just go back to shit...the same old thing, until I finally get upset again and speak....

I will have to make the first move, if I want something moved....so tired of that.  I feel like if I "say something loud enough, or write something mean enough" I am finally listened too, not listened too in so much as things and situations will change for the good, but listened too long enough to shut me the fuck up.  But by finally "speaking up and voicing my opinion or thoughts",  I feel like I am manipulating people to meet my needs...and that is so far from the truth...

I get told "no" so much and so often and it gets old...so I throw a fit, like a child, until the "parent" finally gives in and gives me a piece of a sucker...it is NOT what I want, I want the whole sucker, but I will settle for the little piece, because that little piece will have to suffice for the next month...so I guess, my temper tantrums are the only way to get attention and to be finally "listened too"....I hate that.

So I am ready for the dismissal of my needs, until I can stand it no longer and I "break down and scream"....so tired of doing that...

I got a picture from John last night.  Today is my dads 82 birthday.  Yesterday the entire family threw him a birthday party.  But did they call me, to facetime, and talk to my dad to wish him a happy birthday?  to talk to my grandsons who were all there, my kids who were all there?  They are rarely all together and it would have been so fucking good for me to talk with all of them together, but I was left out of the loop....AGAIN

Not one family member even thought about me, maybe mom would like to facetime with dad or the grandsons...everyone has fucking smart phones, but no one even gave me the time of day or even cared that I would want to say hi....

John sent me a picture after the fact.....too late to say hello...more of a kick in the gut...look ...we had a party for your dad and YOU WEREN'T THERE, hahahahaha

again,  I got the broken piece of the sucker....a little picture....I should be grateful for the little morsel John sent me....FUCK HIM

I am so goddamn tired of being a second class family member, a second class citizen, a second class human.   I wish I had never gotten the fucking pictures from John, they have only served him...he was rubbing my face in shit...look at John and the kids having a fun time celebrating my dad...look at everyone together and smiling...look what you are missing....the pictures just rub my face raw with the fact that "I left"....so now I have to shit and eat my shit too.....sucks for me.

The fact that I was once again, ignored by my family reinforces my decision to not send Christmas gifts or cards to anyone....why should I?  I certainly won't get anything from them, maybe a "Merry Christmas" text message...wow, how personal.  fuck them...fuck everyone

S

sophee

broken suckers.

Here is something about me.  I simply cannot verbally say or verbally explain something that is in my head to somebody.

If I start telling them, I look into their eyes and I see "misunderstanding, anger, frustration, and disbelief."  Whether that is what the person is thinking or not, that is what I see.  And when I see "their eyes" I clam up.  I cannot look into their eyes because I feel so fucking ashamed of what I am trying to say.....

Growing up, every time I tried to "tell my side of the story" or explain something to anyone...I was told "I was being ridiculous, or I was being so stupid, or my words angered them...I was also told it doesn't matter what I think, I am wrong."  So I have been slapped down so much, I literally have no confidence in myself, my thoughts, and my ideology.  I have no confidence at all.

I have learned to settle.  Here are some "examples" on how I have learned to settle.

As a child, if me and my siblings were offered ice cream, my siblings may say they want chocolate....and they would be given chocolate.  but if I said "I wanted chocolate too, I was given vanilla.  So I learned to like vanilla so I could at least have some ice cream.

If there were three suckers, and two of them were whole and one was broken, I was given the broken one.  So I learned to just accept the broken one, because I could at least suck on the broken pieces...

My entire life, I have had to settle on the scraps and be thankful for them.

Fast forward to adulthood...its the same damn thing, but on a larger scale, and adult scale.   In marriage, I had to settle on the demands of a husband.  I was pushed into the background, as husband, religion and children were put before me.  My needs did not matter...so I had to settle, be quiet, and accept the fact that I am a second class citizen....I was told "be grateful for what you have, where you are etc ..." so I settled on "trying to be grateful" when inside, I was screaming for myself.  But I don't matter, I have never mattered....

Today, I simply cannot articulate what is in my head, I cannot articulate my feelings, wants, needs, desires, in a way that makes sense.   So, I blog.   It is the only way I can vent and not have to look into somebodies eyes, or get feedback ridicule.   I can try and speak, but I see doubt in others eyes.  When I am finished trying to speak what is in my head...then I am shown through their words that I am wrong.   Everything is twisted so that I feel that I am wrong and they are right, so to avoid conflict, I agree.   I apologize and I stuff my grief, I stuff my thoughts, I stuff it all deep down inside and try and move on.

I am gaslighted at every turn....so instead of being burned,  I retreat like a fucking coward.  I say "you are right, I am wrong, I apologize" even if I feel I am not wrong...I have such a need to be accepted,  to be listened too, but it doesn't happen...I am listened to at times, then patiently "like I am a child" I am explained to why what I am saying is wrong or not totally true....the lecture of an adult to an adult that makes me feel like a stupid kid.

I finally got the courage to leave my situation in Oklahoma, I felt that I would now be able to be my own person, have my own things, do my own thing and I would finally be free to learn confidence in myself.   But then, I am diagnosed with DID.  Now my confidence in myself is even worse....are my feelings my own or somebody else in my heads feelings?   So when I talk with my advocate, he listens then patiently tells me, that is 7 or Sophee or Tessa or whoever speaking, and I, Sparrow, am dismissed.

I am learning that Sparrow does not matter.  Because Sparrow is not ALL Sparrow which means, she is not to be taken seriously she is not a real person.   My advocate tries to take care of all of us, he really does, but by doing this he is inadvertently suffocating me, Sparrow.

I have things and activities I want to do, I want to experience, but they will never happen because if they do it might upset or damage "Ally".....so because of this little child in my brain, she is controlling everything I as an adult crave...and my needs, wants or desires are crushed.....crushed by my own head.

I try to let things go,  I try to understand stuff,  but I guess I am just too ignorant, immature and stupid to understand the "reality" of  life.   Is it wrong to want more out of a relationship, more out of a life,  when I am a multiple?  

I have to settle.  I have to be grateful for the handouts my advocate gives me, because he knows what is best....if I want chocolate, he gives me vanilla because the vanilla is what is best for me....screw the chocolate desire, that does not matter.

He knows what is best.   He is my dad, my police officer, my advocate, my voice.  I have none of those, because I am too inept to understand life, to understand myself, because I am again, a multiple...a walking idiot who has to be handled for my own good.

Maybe he is right....maybe he is wrong.   I have been handled my entire life, manipulated and brainwashed into thinking I am less than.  It continues today in every aspect of my life...no wonder I am so fucking insecure and have zero self confidence.   Because I am wrong for wanting chocolate ice cream...I am wrong for wanting a whole sucker...why am I wrong?  I am still getting the ice cream and sucker, just not the ones I wanted, only the ones that were left, so I accept the scraps and I try and be grateful...but deep down, I am angry and resentful....why do I have to settle, when everyone else does not?

Why can't my voice be heard?  Why can't I for once in my entire fucking life, get what I truly want?   I am not talking material things, I am talking mental things, opinions, wants and desires from my heart, those are the avenues I have to settle on....

When forced to have a voice, to explain...I sit there, and when I look up into the eyes of the person demanding me explain myself, I see condemnation, doubt and forced patience....it is intimidating and somewhere inside my head I feel I am going to be punished...so I clam up, the words and thoughts get so jumbled in my head that I make no sense verbally...I sound stupid, selfish, foolish and just wrong.

So I look down and stare at my hands....I concentrate on my fingers, and I retreat...I mumble, "you are right", "I am sorry"....its all I can do.  Then if the person conceives "you are right, Sparrow, I was wrong"...then I feel even more horrible...because I envision them looking down at their hands and having to put themselves in a place of compromise or settling...and I KNOW THAT FEELING.  I know in their head they know they are right, but to silence an argument or whatever, they basically throw their hands up in the air, just to shut me up and hope "time" will bring me around to their ideology.

I am ignored.  Time does not heal...time in silence makes the issue within me grow and grow....no matter how hard I try and stuff it and make nice and act like "all is well" I know inside, all is not well and I will eventually explode....

I am a ticking time bomb.  I have been ticking since I was a small child, when does the bomb go off?  

People with DID get no respect.  Our actions, thoughts are not our own, so we are not taken seriously...we are pacified.  We are pacified with vanilla ice cream and broken suckers.

S, Tessa

 

you win

 I GIVE UP.

HERE IS MY WHITE FLAG

YOU WIN.

S

smile and nod

 The roar of silence,

is killing me.

Silence everywhere,

my mind telling me to flee....

I have no where to go,

My words are silenced,

I have nothing to show.

Tears roll down,

and disappear.

I am a clown....

a sad, lonely clown...

a fake smile on my face,

an empty kiss,

an empty space...

Silence is my only life,

Smile and nod,

kiss and hug,

for the grave that I have I dug....

Sammy

no hope

 So this is where I am today.  I feel like my whole is imploding all around me...

My husband (sortof) is trying to make nice for betraying my confidence.  When confronted by my anger over his betrayal he acts like he is not to blame...he will not and has not apologized to me...he just acts like it didn't happen, like I am just "crazy" and my anger is "misguided"...so he has invalidated my feelings, as always...

My kids, do not contact me, ever....I have no ideal how they are...my dad does not call, it always has to be me, to make the call or text anyone, if I don't, then I am ignored...this hurts deeply

The same goes with my partner....he does not acknowledge my texts when I am upset with something he does or does not do....he ignores me also...its like I am invisible.

I realize I have DID, so I guess that means I can never be taken seriously in how I feel about something...oh, well that is 7 or Sophee or somebody else, so I am not taken seriously about what I feel, think or want....My partner maybe does not realize this, or he doesn't care and will figure I will "get over it", just like everyone else in my life just like John.

This sciatica pain is exhausting me...2-3 times a week I go to the chiropractor at 25.00 a visit...this is also eating up the scant money I have...my partner has been paying for some of the visits, which is not fair to him....he has child support and all that...I feel so dependent...I have no independence, never have and never will...the curse of being a woman, a pagan, and having DID, and this fucking back pain...

I feel so alone.....everyday, I have literally nothing to look forward to, nothing to do, nowhere to go.  I sit and wait for Kevin to get off work, so I can listen to his day...his stuff from work, what he saw on Youtube, what projects he will do and is already doing....Its always about him, and that is because I have nothing to offer in a conversation...I have literally nothing...I am a shell of who I once was....

Its the holiday season and all the parades are going on...last year my jeep was in a parade, and it was so much fun...this year, the group of Jeepers I am involved with, have been doing parades like crazy...but they did not mention them on their facebook page, so I never knew...they are just clicking together with a few of the group and excluding everyone else...and this makes me sad, I don't even have a parade to look forward to...nothing...and I already have a hard enough time with the holidays and my depression....I wanted to go and look at the light festival, and that didn't happen either...I hate doing things by myself...so, I do nothing but sit here and get into my head....that is all I have.

Then this fucking conflict in Israel, is affecting my mental health as well. 

what do I have to look forward to for next year?  Not a fucking goddamn thing.  We always talk about going somewhere or doing something, and it never happens, and that is usually because I have chained myself to my apartment via my critters...I sabotaged myself.   The only reason I have multiple pets is because that is all I can do all day long, look after animals...even the dog walking volunteerism I tried at St Francis, seems to have fallen through, and I do not know why....

I am so sad, so frustrated with this back pain, so upset with John, upset with Kevin, upset with myself.   I am nothing.

I do not know if I will survive until January.   What kind of an existence is there when I have no existence?  Pain is my only reality.  Physical pain, emotional pain and heart pain.   I am dying a little each day.  

So, this is where I am at right now....I am sliding down the hill of despair that only leads to destruction of myself...destruction of my ego, my body, my heart, my security, my sense of normalcy and my very existence.

I am tired and weary and I see no hope...none.

S

fucking ignored for the last time

 I give up.   

No matter how much I say something, it is fucking ignored.

It does not matter how I feel about stuff...fucking ignored.

My wishes, my desires, my preferences...fucking ignored.

My voice, fucking ignored.

My preferred rules, either in my home or my jeep...fucking ignored.

My ideals on cleanliness, whether physical body, or home or car...fucking ignored.

So, I guess this means, that I do not matter.   My ideology about most everything...does not matter.

I am insignificant and just basically neurotic and ridiculous.

so I am done.

S