Presidential shit show

 What a freaking shit show the Presidential debate was:

Biden was old and feeble, stumbled over his words, and really could not keep a straight thought or sentence...

Trump was his typical blow hard, spouting lies, denying his felony convictions and basically being "Trump", the narcissistic idiot that he is, liar and all that....

Neither candidate is worthy of the office...AGE is a big factor, both are old as fuck...

As if the political landscape of this election wasn't bad enough, both of these guys fucked it up more....Biden with his "lazy, often slow to speech" and Trump with his "conceited bravado and lies...."

Our America of our fathers, is no more.  Trump will destroy democracy, he wants that, and Biden wants to conserve our democracy, but he is just too fucking old, tired, and struggling.

Its a sad state of America when we have to decide between bad or worse.....fuck

S

tears and rage

 So two doctors finally came to the hospital and evaluated my dad.  They are sending him home on Wednesday, but say he needs around the clock supervision....

Well that is bullshit...he needs anti-anxiety meds and anti-depressants.  He also needs to quit  being moved around all the damn time...he even said to the doctor, "I have no home"....

When he stayed over one night with John, he had a bad night and John was up all night with him....John told me he cannot do that....

So, then, why can't they get him a part time nurse (while everyone is working) then switch out days family members staying with him when John is at work????  John said a full time nurse would be too expensive....the fuck?  Right now dads things are at a retirement village, which is astronomical in monthly rent and fees...so what is the difference just changing who you are paying???  

Its always about money with John....I told him, I am out of the decision making for my dad.....my sister is there now, and so is my brother...why can't my dad live with my brother>( my brother is living in my dads home with his new wife, and they have a converted garage that could be my dads room....but NOOOOOOOOO, he can't be bothered with his dad living with him, which I think has more to do with his wife than him.....but he is a coward and woos when it comes to his wives...they wear the pants.

So I don't know what is going to happen with my dad...I cannot deal with the incompetence of the mental health people there in OK...they screwed me over and now they are screwing my dad over....I am out.

Yesterday, the weather was finally nice enough that Kevin and I and Boomer could get the kayaks out and go to the cove.  I needed that soooooooooooo much,  my depression is so bad right now,  and relaxing on the water was very medicinal for me....I know that most of the depression is because of my dad, and my stupid selfish family, and being so alone here.   And it was acerbated by Kevins son being here so long....I literally felt abandoned and neglected...some part of me feels that David is taking Kevin away from me...I know that is stupid and not true, but I still feel it...and I know it is just my feelings of rejection and abandonment that have been cemented into my heart since I was a child.

Am I abandoning my dad? my family?  Am I abandoning them because they abandoned me? tit for tat?  No, I don't fight fire with fire,  I just can't be wounded anymore by them, so I have left them to find peace.  

This issue with my dad, the things John says to me...it is wounding me over and over...I don't understand why he can't see that, or understand that....he is really so self-absorbed with himself that he can't understand anyone else and their concerns?

Every time we speak on the phone, I either hang up in tears, or hang up in a rage.

tears and rage....that is what my family does to me.  Even Kevin has left me in tears, because of our inability to really communicate,  his inability to hear and listen to "everything" I say....but I believe that is a man thing, because John and every other man I have ever known does it.  Men really don't listen to women like they listen to other men.  
We are less than in their eyes....always have been always will be.  Men will say that is not true, and some really believe that, but in reality, they don't listen, they only hear.....huge difference!

I am only really listened too when I am upset or angry...if I am calm and just talking about random stuff...mens ears close and they pretend to listen, but it is just an act.   You can tell by their comments and reactions that they really aren't listening at all....body language also says alot about if a man is really listening to a women or just "placating them"...

I can see when Kevin is tuning me out, by his body language and his response or even lack of response, so I just shut up and leave the room, because I know at that point, he is not "with" me in his head.

You show me a man that really listens to a woman, and I will show you a gay man.  Straight men, do not. And if they do, its sporadic at best.  This is why women need other women as friends,  and I simply do not have that, a women friend I can confide in, and talk to, and I mean really talk too....And I don't mean on the phone, I mean face to face.

I am not trying to disparage Kevin, he is just a straight man and old school.  He was raised to just ignore the wife or women in general, that is that generation.  Not his fault.  He may not truly listen to me, but he takes care of me in a way no man has ever before, and I love that, I love him and I appreciate all he does for me, the best thing he ever does for me is "having my back", he protects me...John did not, John was a coward and relied on God to help me or God to do everything, he just would run and hide in his little office, while I was having to deal with real issues.

Kevin has no fear,  and he is very intimidating to other people, especially men.  Its his eyes....they can be very scary.  Then other times he looks like a little boy, so cute and cuddly! haha sometimes, the look in his eyes is like getting a butt whooping with a belt...there is no physical pain, but psychological pain....a type of punishment, and he is very good at spanking people with his eyes!  YIKES!

I really hope today goes smoothly, I hope I do not get any calls from Oklahoma, I hope my phone stays silent...I need the break.

S

today

 I got very little sleep last night....but I feel rested enough, I guess.

Today,  I am gonna try to smile.

Today,  I am gonna try and laugh

Today,  I am gonna try and be a good human

Today,  I am not going to fight with myself

Today,  I am going to try and be positive

Today,  I am going to avoid the mirror...

               Kevin said we can go kayaking today (his day off)

Today,  I am going to try and enjoy the water

Today,  I am going to try and forget my disappointment

               Kevin said, we have things to talk about....

Today,  I am gonna see if this is true...

Today,  I am going to give everyone the benefit of the doubt

Today,  I am going to try and give myself a break

Today,  I am going to try and not think about my dad

               But its early,  so, today may or not be a good day...

Today,  I will not let being ignored bother me

Today,  I will have no expectations

Today,  I will not let "not listening to me" bother me

Today,  I will keep my mouth shut...

Today,  I am hoping for a quiet day in my head.....

S

guess so

 So the last video I made, it was about my day to day life...boring as fuck, which was evident in the views....

I watched another system make a video about "real life", no make up, no sappy stories,  no educational benefit...DID is not fun, its not cute and it is not make up, clothes and all that shit...its about a real mental battle...

So I decided to make a video, with no make up, the real me, my real life...in the middle of the video my X called....he informed me that he talked with dad, and still dad has seen no doctor...he also told me my sister and bro-in-law were flying down, he told me David and his wife have been visiting him....he told me to come and visit him....

I tried to explain why I can't, and certainly not while he is locked up...do you know or even understand how "triggering" that would be for me?  And then why should I drop everything to visit him, when NO one visited me...my sister did not fly down, my brother did not visit, my dad did not visit....why?  because I DON'T MATTER....

I tried to go back to the video, I forgot to turn the sound on, because I was losing it....then nothing.....

Going back and watching the video, I saw that during the silent meltdown, 7 emerged and finished the video....as I was watching her, I heard her refer to my sister and family, as hers too.....my sister....that gave me pause...was that me?  Then I have to remember that 7 is me, and my family is also their family, it is all they know, they grew up with me...my family is theirs too, all of them....

Its a horrible video, but it is also my reality....my struggle to stay sane in the midst of my insanity...The struggle of my parts in the midst of insanity...Trying to be normal, when my insanity won't allow it.....

Even now, as I write this, I feel like I am typing from a long far away place....are these my words?   Was that ugly smoking creature, me?  

I guess it is....

s

I am not a creature and I smoke to calm her down to slow down her heart rate to make her relax I don't care what she thinks about cigarettes they help me help her  once she is calm then I can finish her day without all the tears and destruction she would leave I can take away the pain in her heart I am the only one who helps her. I am the only one who can  -7

sham

 I am so worried about my dad...how is he?  How are they treating him in that hospital, is he eating, is he sleeping, is he getting any help through therapy, is anyone visiting him?  

But the worst thought is this "he is all alone, locked up because he is just old and tired"..

Is that the new trend in this world?  Lock away the older generation, set them aside to die???  I certainly feel "locked up".  I am sure my dad feels "trapped" with no avenue of escape.

That is me, I am trapped with no way to escape.  I am trapped in my own head, because I am so alone....except for Kevin...but when he is at work, I sit here all day in my head....even if I take Boomer to the park or cove, its still just me, alone..

Kevin had his son for a week...it is important for him to spend as much time with David, teaching him stuff, talking, mentoring...I know what it was like growing up in a divorced family, so when David is here, I stay away...Kevin needs that time with him.....but it leaves me so alone....this move of Kevins, moving into a new place, having his son, his job etc...he is so busy, he does not have time for me...I am not his wife, just his "friend"...it seems like an eternity that Kevin and I have been apart....not physically apart (as he lives in the same apartment complex as me) but mentally far far far apart.   Drifting...

I have nobody to share anything with...Kevin and I use to do things, go sight seeing, take day trips,  go to fairs, etc...now we do nothing..maybe go out to dinner, but dinner is not a treat for me, as the food makes me sick.  Its a treat for him, Or we watch TV.  TV is Kevins favorite thing...I hate TV,   I guess for him, sitting together on the couch watching the boob tube is "quality time together", I call it babysitting....babysitting me.   When I moved here, Kevin made commitments to me, especially regarding our relationship...those commitments have vanished.  They have changed dramatically....and not in the direction of my desire....his direction, because frankly, I do not matter.  

I mention wanting to do things, usually Jeep things, he says okay, but if I don't stay on him, actually nag him about upcoming events,  those events go unnoticed and forgotten by him.  So I just shake it off...I will tell him once,  I will not nag him, if he doesn't remember, or doesn't put it in his schedule for alerts, then the answer is "NO".   Silence, is a no.  I am tired of trying to make plans for us, when all he wants is to watch some fuck show on TV.  I get it though, he is on his feet all day long, and when he gets home he wants to put his feet up and relax...I sooooooo get that, and I understand...so I try and go with it....but day after day after day, then on his days off, its all about his projects....no us time, to him Us time is me sitting watching him do his stuff...him explaining mechanics, or wood working, teaching. I am not his student. Its been especially hard when his son was here for so many days,  he has been moving and unpacking, working, trying to cram in as much fatherhood as he can with his son....I FUCKING GET THAT...I WISH I HAD THAT....sigh

I have to literally find things to do, so I can stay out of my head...but that is so hard as I have no skills,  no talents, I have alternate personalities that take over my day and I am not around...they have the life, not me.

I know they are me, but at the same time, they are not Sparrow....Sparrow does not play with dolls and childs toys, Sparrow is not christian, Sparrow is not a happy homemaker,  Sparrow is not a fighter, and Sparrow is not a dancer...

So who is Sparrow?  Who would I have become, what would I have become if my childhood had not been destroyed through abuse...I have spent my entire life trying to figure out just who the fuck I am...what do I want, what do I love, who do I want to be....but the answers to all my questions allude me.

I have accomplished nothing...being a wife for 34 years was not an accomplishment, it was a jail sentence...I went to college, but what I studied had nothing to do with my desires...college was just a way to get away from my mother.

I moved away to start a new life...but the new life is lonely....except for Kevin, I am alone.   And because kevin is all I have, I demand too much from him, I demand too much of his time, I nag him, mother him, and act like his fucking wife...cleaning, making lunches, doing his laundry...all the exact things I did when I was married....Maybe that is who Sparrow is...nothing but a servant.

I enjoy doing those things for Kevin, it makes me feel like I am actually doing something helpful for him....I cannot talk with him about science, math, politics, his job, as I am ignorant of those things...so communication is not stimulating for him and its boring to me....so I cover up my feelings of inadequacy by doing busy work...chores...that is all I am good at, I am confident that I can do laundry and keep a house in order, take care of animals...that is my only confidence.

Everything else is a sham.  I am a sham...I am nothing.

S

super glue

 So I have noticed when I go out in public, to the store or wherever,  I notice people staring at me...when I make eye contact with them, I smile...and most times they just look away....why don't people smile back?  Seems like back in the day, people would smile at you, make small talk or whatever, but anymore it is not like that.

Why?  Did the covid lockdown change everyone?  People want to blame Biden for all their woes,  it is easier to blame someone else than be the solution.

Or do people stare at me because I am so damn skinny...I had one lady call me a "crack whore"....I know I either look an anorexic or like a crack head and I have tried and tried to put on weight...but this morning 97 pounds...In my head, I think I look okay, but then I see pictures of myself, and I am like holy cow, I look awful...sick, I look sick.

I looked at myself in the mirror, naked..I hate what I see..I don't look like a woman at all,  I have no curves, and all my bones stick out, I am a bony mess...fuck...how can anyone find a bag of bones sexy?  How could anyone want to "touch me"...?  I hate the way I look....I am embarrassed to be around "normal" women...I get jealous of their shape and womanliness. A woman is suppose to be soft, with curves,  not bony...

When a woman holds you, you are suppose to feel the softness of her breast, her hips,  a man wants a woman to make them feel manly...a man is hard and lean,  his woman should compliment that with her body, soft, cuddly, warm....if a man is with me, or hugging me or whatever,  it is like they are holding a bony skeleton, my bones bruise them....I have no breast for them to snuggle into, no meat on my bones for them to touch and caress....I don't even want to be touched, my body horrifies me, imagine what men think?   I really feel that people stare at me because I am so tiny....and disgusting looking.

Maybe part of my skinniness is just because I am getting old....I am nothing but an old, bent over, hag.  All I need is a pair of SAS shoes, and I will be the ultimate little old lady granny....skin and bones, decrepit and I probably smell like an old woman too....Old age came quick for me....ever since I hit 60, its been all down hill....my vision sucks, I have arthritis in my neck, right hand and left foot...I have no energy like I use too...my entire body is slowing down, aging....fuck, its horrible getting old...especially when in your head you still think you are young and vibrant, then you catch yourself in a mirror and go "who the fuck is that?"  "where did she come from?"  sucks when reality slaps you in the fucking face...

I don't know what is going on with my dad....I really hope that they have got him on some meds and he is doing better...but I will never know, because no one talks to me...maybe he will try and call me again...sigh, again, aging sucks...I see my dad and my mom, and I think, well...there is my future...dementia,   sigh

I think this fucking heat is getting to me...I can't seem to snap out of my funk...I am afraid to "have a fun day"....because all my days seems to be shattered by bad news, heart ache and suffering...I am losing my joy.

How do you find joy when your youth is gone, and your body is getting old and breaking down, almost on a daily basis....my energy is gone,  I take naps a couple of times a day, then to bed by 8 pm, and up by 4 am....yep...I am finally an old senior adult granny....and there is nothing left of my life for me to accomplish, so now my days are nothing....seriously....just an old ugly wrinkled dottering old fool, shuffling around the house doing nothing...

This is my life.  and what a fucking life it is....

ugh....sorry for this post, but it is where I am at, and seems to be that I am super glued to a spot and cannot move...

S

submissive twat

 I think I speak in a very low voice, as in a quiet voice....or maybe I am speaking a foreign language that I only feel is English, but to others it is "mumble jumble".

It is sad, that when I have something to say, I first have to say "I need you to put that down, look me in the eyes and listen to what I am saying, then I want you to repeat to me what I just told you"...this is the only way to get someone to really hear me,  and it just makes me come across as "nagging"...so I hate to say that, but, fuck, I have too....

I believe that Kevin was the very first AI candidate.  When I ask him to do something, he hears "familiar words" then his mind creates a whole nuther narrative...for example:

Yesterday, Kevin had a box of stuff for the goodwill, and I told him to "put it in the back of my Jeep, and I will drop it off...that box was heavy"...later I took Boomer to the jeep, and that box was in the "back seat", not the back of the Jeep....the back seat is Boomers seat.

Kevin heard "back", he did not hear "back seat", but his mind added the word "seat", so in his head, his AI head, I said "back seat", when actually I did not.  I know that seems like a petty thing (I ended up having to lift that heavy box out of the back seat, so Boomer could get in, and heft it into the "back" of my Jeep..this made me angry...

Its not the incident itself, that is nothing, but it is the continuing "not listening and really hearing what I am saying"...that was just a little example of what goes on all the fucking time...

Kevin and my X, and my family and everyone, treats me this way.  No one really listens to me, not fully, only partly then their AI brains finish my narrative...

So if everyone only half hears me, maybe its not them at all....maybe it is me, maybe I don't articulate enough, maybe I speak in too low of a volume, or maybe what I say is confusing, or maybe, and most likely, what I have to say is unimportant, so I am ignored and placated...pretending to listen, but not really.

This is why, I can no longer talk about what is going on in my head, or with my family issues or anything....its like talking to walls...I am only half heard, then what I am trying to explain, it gets twisted to being about the person I am talking too, and not my issue itself.  They all start talking about their own experiences and I am totally ignored....its never about me, my feelings, my thoughts, because it is all about them...everyone is more important than me.

This bullshit with my dad, is eating away at me....this bullshit about not being heard and respected, is getting to me...

Everyone wants me to "do what they want",  "say what they want to hear" and fix their problems...ie, my dad issues...I am that person...I am the one that tries to fix things, I am the one who cleans houses, does chores, I am the robot serving everyone elses needs, but my own.

Does anybody even care that I was locked up?  NO, its all about my dad....nobody gives a shit what it was like for me...only concerned about what it is like for my dad...Nobody gives a shit about the hurt, confusion, frustration and devastation I went through being in a pysch ward...no one cares about that...but my dad, now everyone cares about him....and they want me "to talk with him, because I can relate to what he is going through"...yes I can, but I don' t want too...nobody cared or gave a shit as to why I was locked up, so why the fuck should I care about them?

If, I voice an opinion, it is not even considered, in regards to my dad and his treatment...they just want me to babysit him on the phone, but stay out of the medical part of it.   And I know for a goddamn fact my dad does not listen to me, he is confused and disoriented,  so I could talk about grass growing and my dad would care less....

I just need to shut my fucking mouth, and be the pliant little "yes sir, no sir" "whatever you say, sir" submissive twat...because that is all I am.

S

fucking game

 I have had the same phone number (cell) since the late 1990s...I never changed my number when I would get another cell, or change service providers, I have always been able to keep my same number.

I have lived in the 540 area code for 6 years,  and the vast majority of my calls are from the 405 area code...most are spam or scammers or somebody wanting to buy my home....I usually let 405 calls go unanswered...

Tonight I got a call from a 405 number, so I decided pull a Kevin and pick up the phone with a smart ass hello:

I answered "this is the sparrows nest"...

silence, then I heard a small low voice say, I am looking for Missy...

It was my dad.  He had finally gotten phone privileges and evidently they have my number on file for him to call???  I can't imagine he has memorized that number, so I am a little shocked that St Anthony would have my number...any how...

He was upset, they took all his stuff, even his clothes, he is cold, etc...

He is very confused and obviously still in the same state of mind as when I talked with him last.   He has been transferred from the main hospital to a St Anthony facility in Midwest city.  He is upset because he is locked up, he just wants to go home...

I can relate, been there done that,  so I tried ever so gently to explain to him everything that is going on, and why he is there.  I encouraged him that he would not be there forever, but the first week they are evaluating him, going to get him on some meds and try to get him better so he can leave...

this calmed him some...I tried to tell him about my experience being locked up for the same exact reason....but I am sure he does not remember that...his time for the phone ended and we hung up.

I then called John to let him know I talked with dad, and to give him the number of the facility that dad called from...John did not have that number.  I also told John what dad is feeling and saying, and that I tried to reassure him...

John all of the sudden wanted to talk all about my time being locked up, how hard it was for him,  his experience....and he told me "that I am the perfect person to be able to talk with dad,  and he then insinuated that what I went through was Gods will so that I could be there for my dad, later....

FUCK THAT SHIT  He made me so angry it was all I could do not to reach through the phone and fucking strangle him....he NEVER EVER talked with me about my own experience being locked up, once I came home, it was never spoke of again....NOW he wants to talk all about it??? OMFUCKINGGOD

So god made my entire life and living with john such a fucking nightmare that i felt like I had to kill myself to be free, only to be locked up, so that later on down the road, I could be an example and the voice of experience to my dad???

Is that what a god is, conniving, calculating, cruel and demented...Does he get his rocks off watching people suffer and suffer?? Just so we "might" use our hardship and trauma to help someone else?  Is this just a fucking game to ggggooooddddd??

S

indecision

 The first thought in my head this morning when I got up was my dad.

How is he doing?  Is he eating?  Did he sleep?  what is happening with him?

The not knowing is so aggravating...I keep comparing my experience at being locked up in a mental hospital to his....My biggest fear is that he is not safe.

When I was locked up, I was in a ward with all sorts of people with all sort of mental issues:  drug addicts, depression, schizophrenics, violent people,  it was a salad bowl of people...and the therapy sessions included all those people together, and the therapist only spouted generic rhetoric.  That had a "one size fits all" process of dealing with all the different mental conditions...

This does not help....because each condition needs to be treated differently.  And you do not get the individual help you need...you just get drugged and put in a pot of stew....

This was my experience.  Once I got out, was I all better and cured????? NO, I was on a cocktail of drugs and sent home under the supervision of my X.  Once I got home, not one fucking person, friend or family, even mentioned my stay at the hospital...it was as if it never happened....so I stuffed it, and was even worse, emotionally that before...that is when I made the decision to "LIVE",  I took the gigantic step in leaving, not only my husband and family, but the entire state of Oklahoma...

What will happen to my dad when he gets out?  Will he be ignored the way I was?  Will it be a hush hush secret everyone has to keep....how will this effect my dads mental health???  All those goddamn fucking christians all silently praying for people, but fucking afraid to address the issue head on, talk about it, try and understand it and learn...so they use "praying for you" as their tool of avoidance.

I wish I could tell myself "my dad is in a safe place, he is being given anti-depressants and getting some much need therapy, that they are treating him with respect and honor", but my experience tells me that will not be true....and that scares the shit out of me...

I was in my early 50"s when I was locked up, young enough to make choices about my future, young enough to know how to "play the game" in a hospital to get out...I am not sure my dad, at 81, has the energy to "play the game", get out, and "make a life for himself"....and this scares me as well....

Why do I care so much about a man, a step father, who lied to me about my existence to the Baptist Seminary, a man who told me to "shut up" about my abuse, who denied me the small accountability I needed to validate my past, a man who chose his abusive wife over a child....a man who abused me by omission...

Why do I love him so much?  Is it just "fawning"?  Am I just desperate to have a parental figure who loves me and needs me?  And I just "forgetting, or stuffing his emotional abuse towards me?"

I am so confused by my feelings towards my step father.   Maybe my need for a parent to love me, is super ceding the actual facts going on....am I being delusional to think that my step father actually loves me?  I mean really, my siblings have cut me off on decisions concerning my dad, they do not give me updates, and when they had moved him,  I found out 2 weeks later and in an off hand way....So they have pushed me out, and it is fucking obvious they do not want me involved in dads welfare.

Should I take that knowledge and say "fuck em"....am I spending too much emotional energy caring about a dad, who really doesn't care about me in the way I want him too?  Am I just fooling myself?

Maybe I just need to "get on with my life" and stop trying to help my dad, or even to offer suggestions in his care.  Maybe I am just enabling my dad to stay in his state of mind by helping him and acknowledging his mental state to him...maybe I should just ignore it and it will go away...just like my family did to me, only it just didn't go away, I went away, 1000 miles away to be exact.

So this is where I am at today....lost in indecision.

S

fucking nightmare.....

 I don't know where to begin with this blog...

My dad had a doctors appointment.  As I mentioned in the previous blog, he is very depressed he doesn't want to live anymore, he is not suicidal, just 81 yrs old, tired and weary.

I have been screaming to everyone who would listen that all my dad needs is some anti-depressants, and anti-anxiety meds...he needs someone, objective to talk with...

At his appointment, he told the doctor he was tired of living....so what did this fucking quack of a doctor do?  He puts my dad in a mental hospital.   

I have been in a mental hospital...do you know what that is like?  You are stripped of everything, no phone, no visitors...you are fucking alone in a place full of people who have vastly different mental health issues.....you are lumped in with them and medicated like them...I was given meds for fucking schizophrenia!  I was given drugs until I was a pliable zombie....what was really going on inside of me was not addressed...I have DID and those fucking educated doctors had no clue and assumed I had this or that.....

Now, my dad, at 81, a man who was a pastor, a police officer, a career military man, a US Marshal, a Judge, has now been stripped of "who he is" and lumped in with everyone else.....I am horrified for him....he has been cut off from all he knows, all his comfort, his only link to familiarity....he is now a prisoner of the state of Oklahoma, just as I was...all because he was honest and told the doctor he was tired of living.....he did not say I WANT TO END MY LIFE.  Haven't we all thought or even said, I am so tired of living, so tired of this shit...its a normal reaction to trauma....BUT IT IS SO MUCH FUCKING EASIER TO LOCK SOMEONE UP THAN TO ACTUALLY TRY AND GET TO THE CORE ISSUE...

I HATE THE MEDICAL ESTABLISHMENT, THEY ARE A BUNCH OF QUACKS WITH DEGREES.

Then you wonder why so many people have mental health issues and go untreated until they snap...

I had a dream last night, about when I was locked up...I had a dream of a doctor coming into my ward, up to my bed...when I saw his face, it was my abusers face...my abuser was now my doctor in my dreams...HOW HORRIFIC IS THAT.

ABUSERS GET AWAY WITH THEIR ABUSE, THEY ARE NOT HELD ACCOUNTABLE AND THEY CONTINUE TO ABUSE US, IN OUR DREAMS AND MEMORIES...WE ARE NEVER FREE...NEVER

My heart is aching for my dad, I cannot call him, he cannot call me....its horrific.  He is completely in isolation.  This is only going to make matters worse for him.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

s. 

Sophee

real listener

 My day to day life is pretty fucking boring...If you watched my You tube video, then you see first hand what my days are like....I know that most people wish they had my life of leisure and financial security, and I know I am "overall" in a good and safe place and blessed.

But, when everyone else is talking about their jobs, or their career, when I see posts of their beautiful photography,  or their children lives, how they are so busy making a solid good and productive life,  it makes me feel like I am a waste.

I listen all the time to Kevin talk about his job, his responsibilities and how he is helping veterans and the staff at the VA hospital, and I am so proud of him and his accomplishments...but at the same time, it makes me feel so inadequate, and I start to think I am only a parasite on this earth....

I have nothing to talk about to anyone that is interesting and all that.  And when I do speak up about my day, what I did, where I went, what I saw,  it is so trivial and stupid, that my conversation is only half heard....I know that 2 minutes into my dialogue the person listening has lost interest and gone somewhere else in their head, pretending to "hear" me, but really I am being dismissed.  This has happened to me my entire fucking life.

Oh you are over reacting...like yesterday, I talked to my dad, he was in a full blown panic attack and I had to talk him down, which was so fucking hard over the phone,  I know panic attacks, I had to get him to reground himself....after we hung up I called John...I was very upset "why isn't my dad on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication?"  Everyone is only focusing on his physical issues, nobody wants to admit to or even think about his "mental issues"....and as I was talking, John said "settle down, calm down"  talking to me like a child, like my being upset was actually not important...I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him, strangle my brother.....who is adding to my dads mental decline....fuck!!!!!

This phone call came on the heals of my horrific experience driving to the park with Boomer yesterday, which I blogged about in "souls collide" entry.  

How much can I take?  My family wants my help, but when I try and tell them what is going on with my dad, really going on, I am Poo-pooed, told to settle down and excluded from any family decisions regarding my dad....fuck that shit.

This is because, I dont' fall to my fucking knees and pray for my dad....what the fuck good would that do when he needs help NOW!!!!!!  

grrrr....

Part of my day is feeding my birds and squirrels...I have two squirrels that will take crackers from my hand.

Yesterday, I saw one of my squirrels through my glass door, he was on the balcony rail peering into my window...he saw me, and I motioned with my finger "one second, let me get a cracker"...I turned away, grabbed a cracker and went back to the door, the squirrel was no longer on the rail, I didn't see him, so I thought, I will just put the cracker on the rail and he will come back for it....as I opened my front screen door, there he was,  sitting at the door, just inches from being in my house...I bent down, with door open and offered the cracker...he came forward, practically into my apartment, took the cracker from me and scampered off....

And later, the other squirrel showed up, same MO, peering at me through the glass, so I got a cracker, went outside, and the squirrel was now on my table and walked over to the chair, climbed up and perched himself on the arm of the chair and took my cracker, then jumped back on the table and ate it right there, on my table!  He didn't care I was next to him watching...when he was done, he scampered off....

these are two separate squirrels, one is a juvenile and the other an adult...I wonder if they are related?

This is my day.  This is my accomplishment...animals trust me...but, what a useless accomplishment...when I try and tell Kevin my animal shit, he half listens...I know in his mind," its only animals, I deal with doctors, nurses, veterans...I am more important."  And he is, his job is very important....he is making a difference in the world...I am not.

I really hate talking about anything in my day to day life with him, but I literally have no one else to talk about mundane stuff...I have no friends really that I can call to just chat...I am alone...like my dad...he has all these people around him, but nobody that will listen to him.....he has no friends.

So, my day to day life will just be chatted about on my blog....my blog is sadly, the only real listener I have.

S, 7

souls collide

 I have to write of an experience that happened to me, just about 2 hour ago.

I decided to take Boomer up to a creek so he could play in the water, which is his most favorite activity ever,  anyhow, its a drive to this particular park, and there is a short cut you can take,  to avoid a lot of traffic.  

This short cut street is basically wooded, with a couple of medical offices, no homes.  As I was rounding the first curve of this short cut, I noticed a car parked oddly on the left side of the road,  then I heard a scream...beside the road is a little ditch,  and there was this lady, kneeling on all fours screaming and crying, sobbing...I could not see what she was looking at...

Her pain was guttural,  and I felt it, deep inside me..those were my screams too...I wanted to stop and run to her, to take her pain, I already felt it....

there were already 3 other women around her, and another was walking up, so I did not stop....I kept driving,  I willed the universe to give me some of her pain, so she could breathe.....I started crying,  crying and crying....I don't know why, I don't know the reason she was kneeling down like that in utter agony....I don't want to know,  I didn't need to know,  but as I was crying and aching in my heart, I felt a warmth come over me, and I knew at that moment, her pain had eased some...

and that we had shared the same grief, horror and agony, she was not alone and she felt that odd strange comfort,  I know she felt it, she had too,  she knew she was not alone...our souls collided.

I went on to the park and let Boomer play in the creek, as long as he wanted.  I sat under the shade of trees listening to the water ripple, Boomer splashing around,  the sounds of earth...trying to center myself...I walked Boomer around the park until he mostly dried off, then we got in my jeep and left.   I could not go down that same short cut....why?  I was compelled to drive the long way back to my place...

Over two hours later, in my mind, I still see her down, sobbing, I can still hear her screams....I hope they stop.

S

horrible news, good news...

 I have great news and really sad news.

The sad news is, a great friend to me and Kevin, and a fellow Jeeper was involved in a highway accident that totalled his jeep...he walked away, sore, bruised and all that, but alive.....He sent me the dash cam video of him being rammed from behind on a highway of a van going over 75 mph....by all rights he should be dead...but, the Jeep saved his life.  He drove a Mojave Jeep, and its rugged solid construction saved him.

This got me to thinking about Bart Bryant, the pro golfer that was killed in an accident exactly like what happened to my friend.   Bart dated my sister,  he grew up in the same town I went to high school in...he was a neighbor and great friend and all around super nice individual, talented and smart....and his life was cut short by a distracted driver....

The driver that hit my Jeep friend, was also distracted, speeding and driving to closely to the Jeep on the highway....I believe that if Bart had been driving a Jeep, he might be alive today....I have seen so many horrible car accidents involving Jeeps, and the drivers of the jeeps walk away, while drivers in other cars do not.

I am so thankful for the automakers, engineers and the Jeep company for making strong sturdy vehicles.

The good news is, my dad has finally consented to live with my X husband.   My asshole brother, moved my dad into another facility, effectively cutting him off from the people he knew at the Baptist Retirement Village, and this upset my dad.  He called me (my dad) very depressed, crying and suicidal...I immediately called John and John told me he had been moved over two weeks ago, and nobody thought to tell me, or ask me if I thought that would be a good ideal....

When John went to visit him, he was told by staff that my dad has to have around the clock supervision...probably because of his depression and wanting to die, they call it "suicide watch" and this made my dad feel even worse, having to be babysat.  So John took him to run errands, then took him to his house and again said "dad, why don't you move in with me?" and my dad said "okay".....

John is planning on moving him in this Wednesday.  I believe this will help my dad to the most...he will be around family, he will not have to pay the exorbitant price for rent at that other place, and it is comfortable and he knows the neighbors.  I also believe, and said as much, that dad needs to be put on anti-depressants, and John agreed.

I really feel that when dad moves in, gets on the anti-depressents, his will to live will improve significantly.  I am so hopeful.

Dad spent the night with John last night...John saw first hand his anxiety and lack of sleep patterns...we discussed this, and John is in agreement that dad needs to be put on anxiety and anti-depressants.  That coupled with dad having someone to talk with, do bible study with, and pray with, not to mention see more of the kids and grandkids, will do wonders for his over all health and mental well-being.

Fingers crossed.

S

not my mother...

 Last night was once again, a restless night.  I dreamed that I went to see my mother at the dementia facility.

Only it was not my mother, it was a completely different woman, yet my family could not understand why I did not recognize her...in my dream, I was so confused and irritated because "this woman was not my mother"...but I could not tell them any differently....

I woke up and pondered that dream.

Yes, my mother now has dementia, and she IS different than she was...she is now lost in her own head...

I feel so bad for her dementia,  but then, I am glad, karma, I tell myself.  But the fact of the matter is....I somehow still want to love her....

I want to deny her abuse,  I mean, how can a mother, hate and treat her child, one she gave birth too...how can that be?  She does not hate her daughter and son with the horrible abuser she was married too.

How could she bad mouth my own bio father (who was nothing but good to her and never laid a finger on her) yet love the kids of the man who was horribly abusive and cruel to me, and to herself...How can that be??? It makes no sense to me....nothing makes sense...

I am forever lost in the "why" mode?   My brother looks almost exactly like Ronald, his abusive cruel and demented father, yet my mother loves him the most...the golden child we call him...Doesn't she see that horrible mans face when she looks at David?   

What was wrong with me?   I didn't ask to be born, nobody does, so why was I the whipping child of the family???

sigh...so this is where I am at today.

S

Door stop

 I was a gymnast for many many years, I suffered injuries as all gymnast experience at some point in their sport.

I have fallen off a balance beam and broken my ankle, I have broken my little finger grabbing the uneven parallel bars wrong.

And for years, I thought I had broken my rib (the one just under my collar bone) doing gymnastics as well.  I couldn't remember what I did to cause the break, but obviously I broke it.   Years later, I had a X-ray tech ask me how I broke that bone, as it is thicker and stands out on my chest...I replied "doing gymnastics"...

Which now I know was an ignorant lie.  

For the past several nights I have had very disturbing dreams about that rib...but then I would wake up and the dream would fade away....

This morning at 3 am, the dream came back, and I woke up, and the memory of exactly how that rib got broken came flooding back.....

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

A very little girl, preschool age (?) came through the front door of her house.  That door always stays open in the day with a hard round shape door stop to place at the base of the door so it wouldn't shut.   

She shut the door behind her....The mother said, open that door back up, I want it open, not shut.  So the little girl, opened the door and walked away....BUT she forgot to push the door stop against it to keep it from shutting....

Her little brother was crawling on the floor and hit his head on the door and started crying....the mom scooped him up and noticed he hit his head on the door, because it was part way shut....not propped open all the way....

This enraged the mother.....she screamed at the little girl to come into the living room...she did.

The mother put the baby brother in his high chair, and picked up the hard solid object on the floor, the door stop and said:

"look at this, where does this go?????" "because of your carelessness your brother hurt himself because the door was not open all the way..."  

She was so upset, the mother, "what do I have to do to get you to put this against the door?"  "do you enjoy hurting your brother?"

Then she threw the door stop at the little girl, and it hit her on the upper chest knocking her to the ground....

The object broke the little girls rib, knocked the breath out of her, but there was no blood, so according to the mother, she was fine...

"get your butt off that floor and go to your room, I don't even want to look at you"...so the little girl, got up and went to her room...she grabbed her pillow and held it close to her chest, thinking it would help with the pain, she was having trouble breathing and she hurt so much.....but the mother never came to check on her...just left her there, with a broken rib, a small little girl....the little girl wore clothes that hid the bruise and swelling on her chest...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That memory was taken away from me....and replaced with the lie of the injury doing gymnastics....I do not know which alter took that memory and put the "imagined" memory in my head....

For whatever reason, the alter gave me that memory back....it is now replaying in my head as if it were happening now....I can feel the strike of the door stop against my chest, I can feel that pain....I can remember how hard it was for me to catch a breath....

I guess I need to feel that pain, the physical and the emotional, so I can work through it...trauma therapy, I guess.

But, it makes me more sad than anything, not angry, just fucking sad....sad for the little girl who was so abused and not allowed to be a kid....

I am angry that I cannot confront my mother with this...she has dementia and would not remember the incident or me for that matter....so I, once again, am being denied any accountability, or apology for that incident.   

I want to scream and rage...but that will do no fucking good....

so,  again, this memory is a reminder on how much my mother hated me...

S

Irrelevant

 Why is it that I am shut up?

Why is it that my voice does not matter?  

Why do abusers get to skate off and live happily ever after, and the victim is persecuted?

All my life, I have been screaming out for someone to listen to me...but I am only shut down.

My abusers are now dead, incarcerated or old with dementia and bad health...If I confront them now, I will be looked upon as "uncaring, cold and callus."  How dare I accuse my mother or whoever for abuse when they are so old and feeble.  How selfish of me to open my mouth.

Why am I forced to "shut up" and just get on with my life.  I will tell you why, I am irrelevant.  I don't mean a damn thing to anybody...especially family, who have continuously condemned me and refuse to believe most of what I say about my abuse as a child..They also refuse to believe I have DID...

The vidoes we use to make, gave me a voice, even though my abusers do not see my videos, I can still speak up and not hide...

But now,   my voice is being shut down again...and this hurts me so much, I cannot even tell you....I guess I am irrelevant, I guess the abuse, was irrelevant, the now mental condition I have, is irrelevant...

I am fucking screaming and nobody hears me, nobody cares, and nobody listens...

I literally have no fucking life...nothing important...everyone else can speak up about their experiences, cancer, death, jobs, hardships, illness, etc...but when I speak up about DID...I am shut down.

It is a fucking sad day when mental conditions are poo-pooed and shoved under the rug or "denied"...

Then you wonder why there are so many suicides.  

S

god, take me....

 I don't know what is going on with me...and Kevin.  

I guess it is the move and pressure from all of that, but we seem to be growing apart.  Everything I do and say gets him upset.  I can't seem to say or do anything right...and I am feeling very lonely.  I am afraid of "talking" to him and opening up about my feelings and emotions.  

I feel like a "hand is covering my mouth"....I am no longer feeling safe.  We can't get along anymore....we are acting like an "old married couple who are only together because of some sense of responsibility...there is no more fun in our life together.

He just works all day, comes home and works on all his projects and simply has no time to be with me, and I mean really "be with me".  I don't feel like we are even friends anymore....Just like when I was with John, I had to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself...this is how it is with Kevin anymore....he has no interest in filming, and his interest in me, is fading....THIS IS HOW I FEEL.

I don't think we will make it as a couple...and that is probably because of me...I simply cannot be loved and understood...I am a nightmare...I believe Kevin is figuring that out...and it is driving a wedge between us....Yesterday, we went to a Jeep event, but barely spoke the entire time.  It was horrible....I cried myself to sleep last night because the one man I truly love with all my heart, is emotionally leaving me....story of my life.

It is safe to say that I am truly alone....I have a shit life, I am a shit person, and the only thing keeping me alive is Boomer and my pigs...if it weren't my responsibility to them, I would be dead by now...

I do not want to live anymore....death is becoming more and more comfortable in my eyes....If I was a praying person and believed in a god, I would be "praying for god to take me"....

S

Upbeat Depression

 I watched a video where "Twitch"s wife, spoke up about his life.  How his outward personality was so different than his inward one.

In public, he was always upbeat, dancing, and doing everything in his power to spread love and make others happy. Always smiling, always very courteous to his fans and all that....

but at home, behind closed doors, Allison said he was very different.  He was quiet and brooding, he fought depression...he was not the Twitch the world knew on the outside....

This is me.   On the outside, to others, I am happy, cracking jokes, being sociable, smiling etc....but once home, inside my house, I am lonely, quiet, reserved and struggle with depression.

That is why so many people are shocked when someone commits suicide.  "They seemed so happy, I didn't have a clue...nobody saw it coming."....this is depression.

Depression hides in public...look at all the comedians and celebrities that took their own life...they had fame, money, power, adoration, yet they kill themselves...why?  because money is not all that...fame is fleeting and nobody is ever happy and go lucky 24/7.  If someone says they are always happy and upbeat, I will call them a liar.

In public,  depressed people seem to have so many friends, they are easy to talk to, and go out of their way to help others....but they cannot help themselves, so they hide behind smiles and laughs, while really crying inside....

When I am in public, volunteering somewhere, a jeep event, shopping etc, I go out of my way to be kind to others.  I smile at everyone, I will have conversations with strangers, if I am hosting or speaking to a group of people, I will crack jokes and put them at ease....

but when I am home, alone....the depression comes crashing to the surface...no longer stuffed down and hidden...I can let the smiles go, and let the tears flow...

The psychological and emotional pain I carry, gets heavier and heavier with each passing day....

In public, I am safe from myself...in private I am not safe...I am not safe from the demons in my head...I am not safe from my emotions...I am not safe from me.

This is the hidden war of depression...it lurks around every corner, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.  I have suffered from depression my entire life, even as a small child, I have attempted suicide many times, not really to kill myself but to scream out "I need help" to anybody that would listen, care and really understand.  NO MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL OUT THERE REALLY CARES LISTENS AND UNDERSTANDS-they just prescribe you a drug, pat you on the ass and say "see you in a month"....even therapy is a fucking joke....you sit there staring at the therapist, not knowing what to say, and more importantly how to say it....because in the depressed mind "no one will understand"...and they don't.

So today, I will smile, laugh, and act like I am having fun at the Jeep Jam...nobody will know that I am really screaming and crying inside....they will only see "happy, sweet, caring, fun Sparrow"  they will see many alters coming and going and they will have no clue.

They will never see just have utterly brain damaged I am.....

S