Monthly Archive for April, 2006Page 2 of 6

anacondas and mothers

Published
by
Austin
on April 23, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Mental Health
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should have been in bed hours ago. the more i read the more upset i get. i was reading about primetime watching a little girl get abused on tape and then putting it on TV as a show. just wrong!

i finally watched Anaconda Hunt for the blood orchid. It was decent, not great but it did surprise me in that the first to die was not the black guy. LOL. I was thinking that in order for hollywood to keep on target they had to kill a black guy within 15 min of the start of the show. it was half way through before that happened. anyway, during the matting ball where the anacondas were swirling around the female snake like she was the head cheerleader of the state champ football team i was waiting for my moment to work on some personal issues. Well, above the mating pit I figure, somebody's about to die. So, just as a guy was snatched in I pictured the mother being swallowed up by this huge snake and having no chance in hell of getting away from it. the huge nasty thing wrapped him up so fast and so tight but he couldnt move. remind you of your little girl Mama, does it? the fear gripping you. you cant move. and this big head coming to you with its mouth open, salivating, knowing its about to devour you and you CANT MOVE. It was kinda nice thinking of her getting swallowed up by that snake. to make the moment of revenge even better the entire pit of snakes ended up covered by mud and rocks so not only was the victim swallowed up but the entire pit was buried.

these things raveged a village and left nothing but death behind. sound familiar? I think it does. hell, all the shit in my head was like dead bodies laying in the belly of that snake. somehow the others in the village got away on a raft or something. the snake ended up dead. it was like, hell lets get out of here. we sacrifice a few to save ourselves. sounds like DID to me, or at least how i escaped and sacrificed any chance of ever being whole just to be able to live for one more moment. anyway though, so we watched that movie and we thought about her getting swallowed up. I really hate her
Robert

Dream Interp test on http://web.tickle.com/:

Austin, the recurrent theme of your dream life is Empowerment

tickle test dreams theme
You're dreaming about antagonistic people and situations that are threatening to diminish your personal power. This means that in some area of your life, you're searching for ways to regain your sense of security and certainty.

The power I have is the power to not go to sleep.

Thinking

Published
by
Austin
on April 23, 2006
in General Chatter, Relationships and Therapy
. 0 Comments

Sunday, April 23, 2006 - 4:02 AM

I’m always thinking about something. My head goes a hundred miles per hour and sometimes it gets uncomfortable. Then there are times when my thinking addiction doesn’t become a burden to me.

When I see a picture of a rainbow, a sticker with a rainbow, a post card, a little teddy bear with a rainbow heart I think of my friend Jersey Girl and I smile.

When I pass the gardening section and refuse to take plants home just to kill them, when I see a nice pattern on a clay tile, when I see a rose I think of my net friend and her rose gardens and I smile.

The photos of horses on Incredimail, the poem Riding Wistful Horses and the silver medallion around my neck all follow the path to my net friend who dedicates her life to horses, grayhounds and land.

I never really use to like chocolate. I guess I just didn’t have much of a taste for sweet things until I got older. I seem to crave it now. I use to say it was just down right nasty but now when I speak of chocolate it with attached to people for which I have affection. I had a foster son, age 4, he was such a tendy little boy. Sometimes he’d get on his trycle and ride around the living room in a slow circle. I’d bring him to me and we’d talk. i nicknamed him chocolate chip. He was a sweet little thing and he needed to know it because what he’d been through might cloud his memory and maybe he’d forget that he is good inside. There is one other person I’ve nicknamed Chocolate Chip. It is my hope that she remembers that the just how sweet she is and how very much she is appreciated. Heck, I use to not like chocolate at all now I nickname people after this sugary goodness. It makes me smile when I think of them both.

Of course when I see Whinny the Pooh I think of my friend in big foot country. I see articles about male survivors and think of the guy out in Cally and other male survivors I know. I have hope for them too.

I’m always thinking. I’m always pondering, analyzing, tossing this and that idea around and coming up with some plan to change the world. But when I see a sunflower I stop thinking and I start dreaming. I can pick out a sunflower in the middle of chaos the way Captain picks out a biscuit in the middle of tall grass and lawn toys. He romps and plays in the yard, then his ears go up, his tail out and there it is, he found the biscuit I hid in the grass for him. He wasn’t expecting it, it was just there to surprise him but he got a whiff of it and for a moment the entire world stops. That’s how it feels when I see a sunflower. I never expect but I always hope for it. I say the connection to sunflowers is that they are a whole slew of lives all held by one large head. Each seed has the potential to become another life that holds a thousand other lives. It’s like they are multiples. I find comfort in that. the fact that they are so tall and refuse to be overlooked, refuse to be the average foliage, to fit in with the rest, they dare to stand beautifully different. I see myself in them.

StandSometimes people say that they’re doing so much in one day that it’s like they meet themselves; they bump into themselves along the way. When I see a sunflower its like meeting myself, like I’ve just looked into a mirror and that mirror says, hey Austin, remember its okay that you’re different. Keep moving forward, keep standing because someone is going to notice the effort it took to stand despite a million heads on two narrow shoulders.

I connect in some way with the people I’ve stumbled upon when I see horses, roses, rainbows or big Bowing Jets, when I see Pooh, bake chocolate chip cookies or read and reflect. I talk, I socialize, I think, but when I see a sunflower right out of the corner of my eye then the entire world stops. It’s my time to dream and time to remember that it is quite fine to stand beautifully different.

Austin’s August

The Conservative Side

Published
by
Austin
on April 23, 2006
in General Chatter and Relationships
. 3 Comments

The Conservative Side

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Aussie in a dressSg and I went to see an apartment the other day. I figured giving a good impression was important so I dusted off a dress in my closet, threw on some heels, make up and grabbed a bag and headed out to see the place. It was the first time in about 5 years since I was in a dress. I wasn’t sure if I could walk in the heels. I also wasn’t sure if I could walk with Captain in them. Heck, I didn’t even fall once and Cap didn’t miss a step either. I walked like a pro in them.

The dress is very long, as one person so readily pointed out. LOL. I like them long. I wear them the way I wear pants, they cover just about every inch of me. In her defence she said I look cute.

I actually have a very conservative side. I’m into antiques, colourless objects, colourless clothing such as gray business suits, navy blue, cream or some other dreary color that most flee from. Heck, I didn’t want to carry the brown purse because it was too close to the colour of the dress. Had I not had the right colour shoes I would have gone right back to the army green utility pants, white undershirt and moss green T but I did have the right shoes so hey, I was good to go. I will admit, I wanted to get back to that safe outfit, the same one I wear to therapy sessions so I packed it in a bag so I could change when I felt I needed to. Sg took the shot outside the house.

For quite some time I pranced around thinking I was cute. I had the butt sway movement down pat. I did the girly girl hand movements, threw my head back in giggly laughter, just ate up the whole day with these overly fem expressions. Then I pranced down to UK’s house and shocked the crap out of her. I was walking with Sg. UK was standing in the door and didn’t recognize me. She did a double take then looked really closely and her mouth fell open. She said, “you sure clean up good.” I laughed that silly girl laugh the same I’d been doing for the last few hours. I had fun.

Cap & Conservative AussieThe comment “that dress is so long” was followed by “you look like a church person.” and “you look so proper.” It reminded me of the incedent in the store that day where I attempted to do a ghetto girl movement and failed at it miserably. I was messing around with Sg and started to roll my neck like I’ve seen so many other people do. Well, I didn’t do it right. She laughed at me as I held my neck and thought about if I should call a doctor or not. then of course came the jokes from Sg, “woman, you were raised primarily in the burbs, you were not trained to roll your neck. Please stop before you injur yourself.” So of course I had to run with that. I was like, I can just see the call for help now. White girl down on isle 5. I repeat. White girl down. She’s down, she’s down! The EMT’s show up and there I am big black girl holding my neck asking for a chiropractor. I just wasn’t ever able to get that neck movement down. It just goes to show, rhythm has nothing to do with the colour of your skin. It only took a few hours and several doses of Tylenol to help me recover from that near bone breaking experience. I’m much better now thank you.

Austin

We

Published
by
Austin
on April 22, 2006
in General Chatter
. 0 Comments

We got a sunflower today, three actually. Sg gave them to us. they're really big.

we dont want to move but we have to. we dont like moving at all but if we dont go away then we dont get to eat so we have to move away from here. sometimes i like barney but most of the time he looks like he is a person that hurts kids and i dont like that at all. I dont trust him but i dont want to move. Morton thinks we should move and maybe not being around other people when we live with just us would be better because then we wouldnt have to worry about someobody taking our food. someobody thinks that maybe since our mama always said that we were a good girl because we ate our vegetaables that maybe that is why we became a vegetarian so early. our sister didnt like vegetables at all and the mother always told her she should be like me. it was what we had that the mother was proud of and we wonder if that is why we totaly focused on veggies and let hamburgers and stuff go so fast. it was hard always being the bad girl and krissy being the good girl. i wonder if since it was good to eat vegetables if we liked for once being the good girl and we just wanted to hold on to it or if we really just didnt like meat at all.

we probebly wont go back to being a vegetarian. we like chicken. i didn think we liked chicken that was the last meat we ate when we were 8 years old. we were eating chicken when we told the mother we were bored and didnt want to eat meat anymore. she said to go to the library and look up how to eat right. she told everybody that her daughter ate her vegetables. we like chicken now. i dont think we got a chance to learn to like those things because there was too much going on . we hated chocolate too until maybe real recent. we never got a chance to like it because it looked like that stuff that comes out of your butt and we didnt want that in our mouth. It's the same colour.

We still didnt watch our snake movie yet. i like them but we havent watched it yet. we wore a dress today and we havent had one on for a very very long long time.  

Therapy Day, Drama At The Old Building (1 of 3)

Published
by
Austin
on April 21, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, Pets and Segments
. 0 Comments

He fixed the fence this morning but he’s giving me the cold shoulder. He hasn’t said even hello to me. He nothing at all. I’m okay with that.

I went to therapy. The session went well. I like her a lot. I’m impressed so far. So I was listing off all the things that happened, going through one thing after another like I was reading off some grocery list. I talked with no emotion what so ever. I then broke in and told her I knew I was doing this. She said she knew too and then asked me to use feeling words to describe the situation. I told her I felt stupid for being lied to for 5 damn years and not seeing through any of it. I told her I felt betrayed. What I didn’t expect was to say that I felt robbed. The night of my Independence Day he kissed me at 10:30 with a light rain around us. It felt like something out of a movie. I wrote about it. I was so happy. I called it a happy ending but that was all based on a lie. The man I kissed under the moon and with light rain falling on us on the most important anniversary date of my life kissed me with the same mouth he used to lie to me repeatedly. I felt robbed I told her. I felt robbed because he snatched up that good memory and drug t through the mud. How dare he do that? He could have given me some bullshit lie about needing to work. I’d have believed that lie like I did the others.

 

Mrs. R*:

I said I needed to try and save my emotional energy for myself but I decided to go ahead and see Mrs. R*. I know she’s going to be there awhile and I just couldn’t stay home. I thought I’d go for about 5 min, pop in and pop out. When Cappy and I walked in she was in the far corner of the dining room sleeping in her big ‘ol wheelchair. I walked up to her, she opened her eyes and when she realized it was me she had a huge smile on her face. I was happy I went. I like that toothless smile. She calls me “her girl.” She says, “ohhhh, how’s my girl?” I like to hear that. It’s sweet. Sg and I were there for no more than 15 min. We headed back to her house and hung out for a bit, came back to my place and hung out for a bit, went to the driveway and hung out for a bit. Heck, we even had a gossip session which was surprisingly fun. We went on and on about everybody. Did you know so and so did this and so and so’s boyfriend is doing this and that with this ho? It was funny. We never do that but for some reason we had a gossip session.

She’ll be here at noon tomorrow so that we can go and fill out the application for the apartment. I still haven’t gotten that info from UK about the church that might be willing to help me. To tell ya the truth, I’m willing to show up a month of Sunday’s and do some cleaning or maybe some filing to actually work to pay back the deposit money. I’ll let them know that too. It’s funny that having my own one bedroom apartment and paying a fixed amount on a light bill will cost me less than it does for me to live here.

Today Sg and I did some trading. I gave her my wide mouth toaster and she gave me her 4 cup coffee maker. I made her a little lavender cache and she gave me an electric cat toy for Gracie.

I suppose that I’ll have to wait before I go into the drama of what happened at her apartment building. It seems that drama follows me. it knows my forwarding address. It watches my every move so as not to ever lose me, stakes me out like the FBI stakes out the mob. But this drama included the police and a screaming idiot, Morton and Captain. I think the incident was so upsetting that it’s going to take a bit for me to actually get everything together in my head. My worry is that I won’t be able to remember it tomorrow. This kind of drama is why I moved out of that apartment building. I will not be back even to visit, not with that kind of crap that happened today. It was so bad that I ended up taking meds to calm down.

Drama at the old building Part 2 of 3

Published
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Austin
on April 21, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health and Pets
. 0 Comments

Friday, April 21, 2006 -1:00 AM

After therapy I was totally wiped out. Sg needed to go pick up a script by the nursing home. While I waited for her I thought I'd go over and sit with some people outside of a nursing home, one that Mrs.R* isn’t in. I took Cappy over to visit with them for a few minutes. I like to be able to do that. We headed over to Mrs.R*’s and then decided to go back to the old building where I use to live and where she still lives. I went to her place and hung out for about a half our. There was to be a barbeque and the resident council members told me to I could come. Well, heck, it was free barbeque what was I gonna do say no? while at Sg’s apartment I had a sandwich so I really wasn’t hungry but I wanted to visit with some people I use to know when I lived there. When we went down to the cook out all hell broke loose. As soon as I stepped off the elevator a resident that I know very well said, you can’t take “that dog” meaning Captain, back to the cook out area. I said nothing. I kept walking back to see Mrs. F and JP. Lord, so I get back there and people that I know and that know Captain were like, you cant bring “that dog” back here while we’re trying to eat.

They know that I don’t let Cap walk around loose. He doesn’t go up to tables sniffing the food and begging. I walked to the side wall by the entrance of the little dining room. They moved the cook out in because of the rain. So I walked to a side area to visit with a friend and some woman comes running over to me telling me to get “that dog” out of there and that I couldn’t have “that dog” in there near the food. I was calm. I told her that Captain is a service animal and that he is here with me for medical reasons. She got huffy then told me that if I insisted on being in the room I had to be in the far corner away from everyone else. She wanted me to stand in the far corner of the room with Captain. I refused. That is when hell broke loose again and didn’t get contained until the police arrived. I tried to explain to her that legally Captain can go with me where ever the general pubic goes. She told me I was to leave the building. Of course I was pissed and asked her who the hell she thought she was. Her answer was, “I'm the assistant manager.” My reply, “that was a rhetorical question. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are.”  Then of course being in the ghetto somebody jumped up and said, “What are you on? Why do you think you can just come in startin’ shit?” He told me to get out of the building with “that dog.”

Now, while he was making the “are you on crack” comment the assistant manager decided that she was going to contain me. I tried to move and she blocked me from walking. Enter Morton. This woman was in my face screaming and yelling, waving her arms talking about calling the police. She got up so close in my face that Captain moved right between me and her. I knew she was about to get bitten if she took another step. I told her she needed to move back and leave me alone. So then she got up in my face again. I told her if she had a problem she needed to call the police. Captain was in his red jacket with is ID badge on. He was dressed as they say.

When the police show up at pubic housing the housing police accompany them. It turned out that not only 2 cops show up but in walks Mic. He was working security for housing that day. I told them that on the video cameras they will see the manager cursing me, jumping in my face, attempting to confine me and waving her arms like a mad person. The two on duty cops know Captain. One of them called him by name. They told her in no uncertain terms to shut up. She kept talking and yapping and waving her arms. One officer said to her, “who is wearing the uniform? You need to shut up.” I was quiet the whole time. 

All I wanted to do was visit some of the older people that I use to take Captain to see. It turned out that the assistant manager decided to stay for the cook out and that she is as unreasonable as the residents she manages. The woman actually got so close in my face that Captain was alerted by it. When she tried to keep me from walking anywhere Morton was there so fast it wasn’t even funny. She just went off. It was crazy. She told me to leave and I told her no. I think that’s what really made her mad, I didn’t just go, well, okay, I’ll tuck my tail and go. Well fuck that! The last time I checked Service Animals laws still applied in this state. I'd just come from 2 nursing homes and Subway Sandwich Shop with no difficulties but hey, crackheads live in their own world and there is no reason within that world. She was so close in my face screaming at me. and it wasn’t just that she was in my face it was that she got in it, walked away screaming then came back, screamed some more, tried to keep me from walking around her or anywhere at all. She was pressing it and pressing it hard. Morton didn’t do any screaming and yelling. So she says, I'm calling the police like I hadn’t already suggested it. When she said I'm calling the police I said, the number is 911. By that time Joan was back out because it was apparent that the woman wasn’t going to hit me.

While we waited for the police who seemed to take their own sweet time getting there this woman still ran her mouth. She was yelling down this long hall way, why cant people just have a good time. There always has to be one foo' to mess things up. This is why n’s cant have anything cause…blah, blah, blah, blah, we can't have 'nothin..blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.… I said to Mrs. F, and this is your manager she’s quite professional isn’t she? She said, yes, they seem to get worse and worse but I wish you’d just go so there won’t be any trouble.  I explained to her that I wasn’t there for trouble but that the woman jumped in my face and started all this stuff.

The funny thing is when Morton talked to the manager he didn’t use a lick of respect but when he turned to talk to Mrs. F he was very respectful and even apologized for her heaving to hear him curse her like that. the problem was that the manager attempted to keep me from walking anywhere by moving in front of me so that I couldn’t take a step, her arms extended so I couldn’t move forward. The problem was that she was in my face so close that I could have tasted the barbeque in her mouth. The problem was that she was so unreasonable and so loudly aggressive that I felt I couldn’t just walk away and let it go. So, when the cops showed up the first cop looked at the manager and said, “That’s Captain.” The Asian cop started to explain to her what a Service Animal is and what the laws are for the animals. She walked away from him. That wasn’t good. So they went after her to talk to her. In walks Mic who is furious that the manager was acting so stupid and jumping in my face like that.

I don’t ever want to have to hit anyone. I just don’t want to have to hit anyone because I fear that if I start hitting them I'm going to leave the current situation and start pounding them for everything that the mother has ever done to me or recent events like Mic and JOB.  whle she would have deserved an ass kicking if she actually hit me, its not like I would have gotten any pleasure from it afterwards or even during. We would have protected ourselves but afterwards we might have needed to go IP. I cant hit. I can’t for fear of losing touch with the hear and now. I don’t want to take the chance that I'm going to forget why I’m fighting at that moment. I don’t want to slip for a moment and shove years of anger on someone that has no idea why I'm screaming and pounding that way.

After the police left that’s when I started shaking inside. I reached into my little med container and took a Clonapin. Captain was glued to my side. He didn’t move.

Lastly, we try and bluff our way out of a fight. With all the cursing we can do, with all the butch dressing we do we are still too much of a lady to throw down in the street. If pushed we will but as a rule, we do not fight. It’s an uncivilized way of settling matters. It’s a stupid mans way of communicating because he has no sense of reason and no other way to express emotions or convey ideas.  I do not fight. We bluff to not have to fight.

 

Drama At The Old Building: Part 3 of 3

Published
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Austin
on April 21, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health and Pets
. 0 Comments

No Punches

Friday, April 21, 2006-1:51 AM

One of the major reasons we would have needed to go IP after defending ourselves is because of the guilt of having to hit someone. We know how it feels to be on the other end of a fist. We can’t do it. Heck, they may deserve it but for us, we can’t do it. It makes us feel so sad inside because it’s like…it’s like beating ourselves up. It’s like, heck I know what it feels like on the other end but I'm doing this anyway….i think I'd feel every punch that I landed the same as I felt them land on me when I was a kid. Self defense is a legal term but what I'm talking about is an emotional turmoil that would drive us to the crisis center for an extended stay. The guilt of hurting another person, of seeing them cover their head or try to get away…hell, id see me. I'd see my face and I'd see me as a little girl, as that scared little girl…I'd know I was hurting another human being and making them feel the feelings I felt back then. The feelings from back then are heavy. They are humiliating, leave guilt and shame…its all lasted for years. Why on earth would I want anyone to feel that kind of embarrassment, fear, pain, humiliation for even a second? So that is the problem I have with hitting. One, I might not stop on my own. I might lose myself and take out my past on the person who drove me to violence. I fear the built up anger inside me. I fear it enough that I avoid raising my fist at all costs.

My littles are worried right now. We can see ourselves in our aunt’s house with her standing over us punching down. We were tucked in a corner with her standing over us punching at us. She never actually hit us but she backed us into a corner in her room and punched at us.

I'm afraid of triggers like this. I'm afraid of what’s inside.

I feel like I should say that while Morton does curse a lot and while Morton will protect us he is not a violent man.

Right now I feel like cutting. Maybe when I went to see Mrs.R* and shared what little energy I had the joy she got from the visit gave me enough to of a charge that I was able to not totally lose it today and pick up anything to hurt myself with. I’ve always said that if you share even a little bit what you get back will be more than the little you gave. If I hadn’t gone over to visit the two guys at the other nursing home lot while Sg filled her script and had I not visited Mrs.R* and done something positive outside of myself there is a possibility that when that idiot jumped in my face today there would have been very little inner strength to draw from. I might be flat on my back right now, emotionally speaking I mean.

The other day I was wondering to myself, why do people say anything and everything to me? Why do they cross boundaries and act stupid. Some of them are stupid but I came to the conclusion that the majority of people that have crossed boundaries are people I’ve had long conversations with or conversations about abuse issues and things. They’re people that have told me they think I have a lot of strength and what not. It is my conclusion that since I am very open on this journal others think they can be open and tactless. I think my openness appears to be an invitation for them to be inappropriate. The last person on that egroup that used that racial slur seemed very comfortable crossing that boundary. I wonder if my openness on the subject we were talking about made her think she could say anything she wanted to me. I know it’s not my fault that people don’t know how to be appropriate but I was wondering WHY ME? And then it hit me, maybe because for the most part I'm open and honest and others attempt to be open and honest and miss the mark. But again there are just stupid people out there that think they can say anything and everything. Either way, I don’t think my ability to communicate gives anyone permission to be stupid. Perhaps they are striving for a way to communicate an idea but they miss the mark by far and end up offending me. And since I journal so much then people to get to hear about all the stupid stuff that happens. Do I get picked on? No, not any more than others do I just scream about it on my journal so it appears that everyone is after Aussie when in fact they aren’t. My interactions with idiots are no greater or less I just put my stuff on the web so a wider audience gets to hear me complain. I just talk about mine more. Some of the crap is hilarious; some of its triggering but it’s all stuff that happens to other people too.

For The Therapist

Published
by
Austin
on April 20, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, Therapy and Therapy Assignments
. 0 Comments

11:40 AM

I have to write this down because one of two things are likely to happen when I walk into your office. You might get Joan of Arc who’ll break out into a stand up comedy routine or you’ll get someone that has no idea how to start talking and will just sit on the floor and cry. So here’s what’s going on with us.

People are stupid T. They’re stupid and insensitive, cold and hurtful. I'm devastated about Mic. That just breaks my heart that he would actually be married after all these years. It turns out I know his ex-wife not his current wife. I think I'm tired of learning new shit about this man. I'm ready to leave it alone but truthfully this is going to take a bit to get past.

OCD
It’s out of control. It’s hard to go into our own restroom. Its hard to flush our own damn toilet because we have to touch the handle to flush it. We brush our hair in the office area because God forbid there should be any visible hair on the sink cause that would make it even harder to go in there. Today we took a bath and turned on the jets in the tub. Most of the time we enjoy that but with the OCD running high all we could think about was germs spinning around in that tub and all over us. We shower or bathe in total darkness so we can’t see the restroom and start thinking about germs. Today we were trying to relax and point the jets towards our back muscles and so that it would get the muscles in our shoulders. It usually helps us relax and stuff but today we just wanted to get up and run out of that restroom. We were trying to face the wall so we couldn’t see the restroom. Of course Maureen is ready to get up and get the fuck out of the tub but there were others of us that needed that relaxation so we could attempt to finish this day. Of course the tears started rolling down our face but they only belonged to Maureen. Have you ever had tears roll down your face but they belonged to someone else? We share a body so that happens a lot.

It is difficult to brush our teeth because the sink is in the restroom. Sg will be here today and God forbid she should have to use the restroom. Our computer guy, a mutual friend of Mic and me, was here for 6 hours the other day. When he had to use the restroom he had to go out to his van to do it because I couldn’t let him use my restroom. This shit has to stop T, it really has to stop. We need back on the Luvox for the OCD. Everyday tasks are getting harder and harder to finish because we see every single speck of dirt that probably isn’t there.

Sometimes we take pictures of things so that we can look at it later and see if we still see the same thing. We take a lot of pictures with the digital cam because we know we can’t trust our own eyes. We see through the past, we see through OCD and that sight is somewhat inaccurate to say the least. It’s also why we talk so much in our journal to try and process stuff out and filter out our own issues from the current situation.

I need for you to come to this journal even if it’s during sessions because what you hear from me in the office will not be half of what you hear in our sessions. When we walk outside we are different. We put on this mask and its very hard to take it off. So, this journal is going to be important to us working together. You don’t have to read every single page but when we are in a session we at least need to check it because what is in here will most likely not show up in sessions.

We’re having trouble with the following things: Nightmares, Depression and self injury issues. We are and have always been non-med compliant. We take meds when we remember to but its also hard to put them in our mouth because of OCD issues. OCD is a major difficulty right now.

Our home environment is a pressing issue. We need to move but I refuse to just pick up and go and leave everything behind. I won’t do that. I will have help getting my stuff to wherever I go. I have local friends to help with that. We’re back to putting off sleep because of the nightmares.

We have a safe outfit that we wear to therapy sessions so when you see us show up in pretty much the same thing for every session its not because we don’t have clothing it’s because we have safe clothes that we wear to therapy. We like the pockets and the dark coloured pants with the lighter coloured shirt. Your office is Alaska cold and that works for us because it means that we can wear an oversized shirt with longer sleeves. This will help us feel safer so no worries about the sub freezing temperatures.

We need for you to, as a professional who works with mental health disorders, to see past our apparent ability to handle life as it is now. We need you to understand without a doubt that we have a breaking point and that we are close to it.

It is difficult to get a conversation out when everyone inside wants to talk at the same time. Its not like we can go from one emotion to another smoothly. It is hard to feel several things at once with intensity. Joan feels happy at the same time that Maureen feels hopeless. They both feel it fully. Morton feels stressed because he’s got a lot to try and organize. The one thing he can count on is us listening to him and not jumping the gun. That’s how we know for sure we’re not going to jump up and walk out of this house right now. we know there is more than one of us in here and that what one of us does effects us all. so there are a lot of inner meetings going on so that everyone knows The Big Three are taking care of things. (The Big Three are Morton, Joan of Arc and Destiny in that order of rank) The divisions in there are strong but the cooperation is even stronger. That’s the one thing Morton’s Pride can count on, each other.

As far as Maureen getting to the breaking point, she will not try to kill us because Morton hasn’t handed down permission to do so. If he does then I can not even lie to you and say that you’ll get a call saying we’re in trouble and that we are ending things. We will call you or someone before it even gets to the point where Morton says okay, we can go now. as long as you hear from me things are good. If I get quiet things are bad. If we walk into your office in dress clothes, slacks, dress shirt and tie its Morton and he has something you need to hear. He doesn’t show up to therapy. The people that will show up will be Joan of Arc, who takes us everywhere. She’s our front runner and handles daily life. Maureen is the one that usually has difficulties and needs to talk. Destiny comes when she’s pissed off that Joan is getting more attention than her or that things aren’t being handled with enough aggression as she’d like to use. You’ve met Milwaukee twice. She’s twelve years old. She writes on the journal as well. You’ll know you’re talking to her because she hides her eyes behind the bill of our baseball cap. Her voice is very quiet too.

This is only our third session together so you don’t know me and I don’t know you. But there are a few things we need you to know and that’s why we’ve written this.

There are times that when we show up to therapy we might not recognize you or your office. We were at the medical center for a long time but the therapist still had to take us back to her office because we didn’t ever remember where it was. We didn’t remember what the office looked like inside and we often didn’t recognize her. While we didn’t see the same therapist at the medical center we have been in that office area since around the end of high school. I guess a singleton would have the lay out down pat but I still get lost and don’t know how to get out to the receptionists area. I need you to point me to how to get out because if you just say the session is over and I get up to leave without you showing me how to get to the front I'm 1) going to feel abandoned and 2) I'm going to stand in the hallway for hours not knowing how on earth to get back to the receptionists area.

Most of the time we will tell you what we need. It may not be in person though. We might leave you a message on your voice mail, send a letter or write in the journal and let you know about that particular entry. It is easier for us to communicate in less threatening ways and for us writing is the least threatening way of communication. When we use sign language its also a way of hiding. Only some of us are Deaf and only some of us are hard of hearing. The body itself may not be but some of the alters are. We find ways to communicate what we need but often times its done in a hiding sort of way. Since writing is easiest for us we do well with assignments that we can do between appointments. We like assignments because it helps us explore inside and resolve issues. The assignments don’t have to be something huge. They can be simple. You never know what would come out of an assignment that seems trite. Heck, you could tell us to journal on the colour purple and who knows what could come out of it.

Eventually we need to know why you have openings as a therapist and why it was so easy to get in to see you. We figure its because this isn’t a private practice and patients come and go but we’d still like to know why it was so easy to get in to see you. We’d like to know what your track record has been when it comes to patients feel as if they’ve finished therapy and can live life without it. Have you ever helped anyone get to that point? Are you having any major home life issues that will stand in the way of you making it to work? Do you have any health issues that will not allow you to take on another case that could be a huge challenge? If so, please let me know so that I can make it easier on both of us and search for a therapist that doesn’t have so much going on outside the office. I hope that doesn’t sound cruel but I think to not bring it up would be a disservice to us both.

We need to know what your boundaries are. What is too much to call? Even though I we tend to mail stuff to our therapists and not even remember that we’ve mailed it we still need to know if its okay to mail stuff to you. We might not all be aware that something was mailed but if we know that its not okay to mail stuff then at least we can let everyone inside know that mailing stuff to you is off limits.

We don’t freak out when our therapist is on vacation or takes a day off. Her vacation is our vacation. We have no issues with you being out of the office but we do have issues with canceling appointments repeatedly especially when those appointments are supposed to be used to discuss recent heavy events. We will depend on you for a lot of emotional support so we require that you show up to our appointments. You don’t need to show up half dead but if you cancel a lot know for sure that we will not be around long. I'm bringing baggage with me from other therapists. I will try my hardest to not think of you in the same light as other therapists that I’ve seen. If I fail to keep you separate from them call me on it.

We are worried that there is too much shit to remember about us and too much to try and understand. Are you up for this?

Sincerely,

Joan of Arc for Morton’s Pride —– Contributions from: Morton, Destiny and Maureen

Self Preservation

Published
by
Austin
on April 20, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health and Pets
. 1 Comment

I was supposed to go see Mrs. R* in the nursing home tomorrow but I cant do it. I dont have the emotional strength to do therapy, see her and then come home and deal with Barney then handle the daily stuff like showering, brushing my teeth and all the other seemingly small things that take place in daily life. goodness, when my stress level gets high the small things seem like huge tasks. I should probebly do the showering before therapy not after. No sense is showing up funky ya know.

Since I know I’m going to have jacked up sleep I have to pack Captain’s bag and get his service jacket all freshened up before the morning. It’s like draging along a kid when we go anywhere. We have to have water, doggie bags for things we can’t leave in the grass, a wash cloth to wipe off drule, doggie deoderant and other stuff. I am convinced that I am Captain’s service human because I swear this child is spoiled rotten. But hey, he does deserve it so I do not complain one single bit. sometimes I think he’s a little too good. He doesnt get in trouble and stuff so I’m like, dang, no funny stories to tell where I came home and his head was covered in some kinda goo or whatever. Anway though, I have to get us both ready for our very long day tommorrow. Somewhere between therapy and dinner I’ll be working on my spelling. Lord knows I can’t spell to save my life so I have a program that’s kinda a game to help me along. She’s if mispelled words were a sin I’d be hellbound…of course first there would have to be a hell for me to go to and since there isnt then I’m safe jacking up the english language. I can spell in German though. I dont know why I cant spell in English. Sheshhh.

Today I had the worst urge to grab a teddy bear and sit on the floor and just hug it. I can’t do that because I know I’ll forget where I am and I’ll think I’m back at my mothers house. I seem to be holding on to my sanity by a thread right now. I think maybe the lack of sleep with nightmares when I do sleep has run me down. Last night I did more gasping and sitting up than I’ve done in a long time. Heck, I wonder if I can consider that exercise I mean they were kinda situps. I did get my stretches done today and my excercises that the doc gave me to do for my hands and some other stuff for the fybro. My doc turned 35 today. He reminds me of the guy from Matchbox Twenty, Rob Thomas. Anyway, so I did a few things, mostly I vomited my guts up. The nausia is getting crazy. Lord I feel old. How does stuff just colapse so quickly? Damn!!! I wont even be 35 until August but I’m sure my body is like 80 or something. Oh, and Sg said today that she’s losing her hair but its the gray hair that’s falling out. I told her I’d never heard of anyone say they wish the dark hair would fall out instead of the gray hair. I should have offered her some wiskey or something. clearly she was sober and not use to that sober feeling. no i’m kidding.

There is some guys journal where he writes about his neighbors because he lives next door a brothel. This man talks about his neighbors so bad and has me rolling. He’s in the UK somewhere. He keeps calling the apartments flats. I lost the link to his journal. But when I need a good laugh I go over to sites like fugglie and places like blogging bitch where they are totally off their rocker. They are hilarious, so much so that you can probebly hear my laugh heartily three doors down. Then of course there’s cute overload, the site where there are tons of pics of the cutest animals alive. When I need a garden spot or a horse to look at I know where to go for that. I read velvet sacks today and her entrys always make me smile. There are some really good journals out there that I’ll have to make sure I visit tomorrow. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day. My energy is low so I”ll be crusing the net for a distraction.

I wonder if I should dare try and drink coffee before I go to therapy. Lord knows coffee and I seem to have a rocky relationship right now. I still have the Starbucks. I think it’s holding a grudge since I gave it away, took it back and then acted like I didnt betray it. I’m sure that’s why it jumped up out of the cup and onto my white shirt that day. Maybe I should leave well enough alone and give it back to UK. Well, I could give it back to her and see if she has any kind of tragic happenings with it. If so I could think about sueing Starbucks. My money problems would be solved then. I’ll have to claim emotional distress and post brewed stress syndrome. I’m sure there’s a doctor that I can get to say yes, Aussie is never going to be the same after the attack she suffered. I’m sure there’s a law suit in this somewhere.

Image copyright 2006 @ Sundrip JournalsI should take myself back to the horror show, back to bed where my dreams make Wess Craven’s movies looke like good family entertainment. I’ve never dreamed that Captain attacked me before so that dream was a new one…very unexpected. I have a feeling that my prolonged stay here has me feeling a bit guilty. I feel like with all the stuff in the yard I’m putting that boy in unneccessary danger every time I let him go out there. I’m working on it though. The only time Captain would act crazy or even think about not being kind towards me would be if pizza was involved. “Give me the pizza and nobody gets hurts. back away from the pizza, slowly..back away.” He would trade his life for a slice of pizza. Forget the training, forget the good natured boy I’ve come to know and love. If you put pizza in front of him the the wild dog in him comes out and everyone else needs to take a step back. How does Pizza Hut hold such power over my boy?

Joan of Arc

No Word Yet from JOB

Published
by
Austin
on April 19, 2006
in General Chatter, Relationships, Soapbox and Stupid People
. 1 Comment

no word yet on him putting up the fence so Captain wont get back to this part of the yard.
He left around 7am. He should be back later this evening steaming hot and mad.
Link to a slide show of the yard
He’s not half as mad as I was when he told me he wanted me to clean up his yard and clean out the garage and that I needed to buy the tools myself. We do not have a working lawn mower, a week cutter or any other tools to do the work. He prefers to hike, to go to dances and out to dinner with friends. As I said, I’m happy he has a social life but when he refuses to do what he needs to do and wants me to do it for him for FREE then that’s when I have to put my foot down. I have to be careful where I step because of the glass, the rust and the of course the spare toilet parts that have been in the yard for years.No tools to do this with except for what he wants me to buy

I suppose that he thinks I’m going to let it go and that I’ll pay my full rent next month with the fence laying on the ground. he’s wrong.

the pictures open up in their own window and get larger. They show in detail what the yard looks like. I tell ya, if someone thought I was making too much of this then hey, here it is. My neighbor said to me a few minutes ago, why are you taking pictures. If he sees you doing this he’ll kick you out. Well, you know the big brown fence you see in the shot? well, he paid to have one put up so that he didn’t have to keep seeing Barney’s yard. That is shameful. Also, while he does own the house he also rents to ME. he has a renter and as someone that rents an apartment he has responsibilities to ME, to his renter. All I want is for him to put up one section of a fence that fell. One section. Why am I not doing it myself? Because I can’t. I am physically unable to do it. I’m also not going to go out and purchase something to put his fence up!!!!

this is so wrong! its wrong and it's sad.Or pay money to have the fence fixed then turn around and pay him full rent. That’s bullshit. Of course the man that said this is on drugs so hey, he might have been high and just talking out of the smoke before he finished his art piece for work. He’s a sculptor. he carves images of Jesus and Jude, Mary and others for a few Catholic churches. It just goes to show you that people can make good money doing good work and still be on drugs. LOL. Anyway, my focus is on Barney who is a non-drug induced ass. The natural asses are the biggest ones of all. A huge gaping, wide mouth ass. the kind that when he takes a dump the earth shakes. California thinks its the big one again but nope, it’s just jack off Barney being an ass. he should be happy that I’m not going to do to him what I was considering doing to Mic. Ever heard of the site www.dontdatehimgirl.com ? Yeah, it’s a real site with pictures of all the guys you should never date. there are details as to why you shouldn’t date him. The only reason I’m NOT going to do this to Mic is because he has a 15 year old son by the same name. I will not do that to his son. poor bastard has to have Mic as a father figure. Damn! Back to jack off ass hole Barney!! I wonder how he feels about ex-lax in his coffee? Will he taste it? Oh, hey I could make some beef stew and leave it in the fridge. Since he helps himself to my food he’ll take a big bowl of it and find that he cant make it to the next 2 hiking trips because he has a date with the toilet. I run into him hours later, JOB (jack off Barney) you dont look so good. are you feeling okay? maybe you should have some STEW!

ranting and raving on the journal is good for me because i can unload before I talk to him. I’ve never cursed him to his face. I figure that words stick with people for a long time. I’d prefer to choose mine carefully. On the journal I’m going to dog him but in person I’ll use tact and not colourful words with vivid imagery. Unloading online is helpful in keeping my cool when I talk to idiots.
okay, enough for now.

Joan of Arc

I just dont want my little furry one to get hurt.