Monthly Archive for June, 2006

My Reply to Alien- The Hunted and All

I was worried about ragging that guy out for coming here trying to sell me his songs but I’m happy readers were not offended by my blasting him like that. I started not to post it and just keep my anger to myself but as I got to talking about him so bad I got to enjoying it and I thought, heck, let me go ahead and post this. It’s just that when I saw his two spams I about flipped. Like I said, had he been trying to sell me the stuff Rush Limbough got caught with last week then okay, I expect that but this guy says he’s a shrink. Oh I was mad. But I’m wondering, can I get ad*v*an from him on the side? Does he sell street dr*gs too. I mean, since he throws all ethics aside I wonder if I could get a few unconventional scripts filled. I wonder if he knows of anyone that can “take care of” my roommate. No, I’m kidding. I dont want to start a whole journal on dashing this man so I suppose I’ll leave it at thanking everyone for their support. (I put those words with the little thingie between them because if those words end up on the journal then everyone looking to buy it or sell it will be pointed here. Dang search engines log every word and that’s how I end up getting people looking for p*rn coming to my blog. Some of the stuff they’r looking for is just sick. Ya sicko’s!! Now watch one of them send me a virus..and I dont mean an STD.

Alien – The Hunted Says:
June 30th, 2006 at 5:01 pm e I refuse to be cowed by quacktors trying to sell some cheap piece of trash and them saying “I’m not here to provide therapy.” I reply ver succinctly, “Kosimiroshi, Hijo de Puta.” OK, I’m mixing languages but then again it is the same, “Kiss my BUM BUMS, Son of a Whore” or actually another applicable, more familiar term. These quacktors are very chiak sai (chinese) – full of poop.
Peace,
Alien – The Hunted

Austin says:
That is HI-LARIOUS!!! You win the first laugh of the day.

I like how you’ve used your knowledge of language for your own agenda, to dog him out. Gotta love it. I do know Puta is Spanish for bitch. I flunked Japanese and I never got around to Chinese but I did take Hebrew, Greek, Latin and German. I remember mostly the Hebrew and the German. At home we spoke Spanish mostly, not much English at all. I suppose that my family thought they were Spanish. I dont know, I guess that’s also why we spent so much time in Spain. They own land there and everything so I guess they just thought, heck, lets speak it at home. My mother grew up speaking Spanish at home but my grandmother grew up speaking German at home. It doesnt seem like anyone likes English much even though we were all born here. It’s odd I know but hey, what can I say or which language should I say it in. Oh, and you know what? I cant spell in English but I can in German and a bit better in Spanish than I do in English. What the heck is that about??? Strange.

Thank you for the comment. Too funny.

Joan of Arc

Not Good

I need to cut. I’ve needed to since last night. I never cut when someone is here with me so I didnt. Right now she’s not here and I was actually planning how I could do it and not have her know but then I realized, I’m planning to do this. She left thinking things were okay but if she found out that while she was gone for a bit I cut, how is she going to feel? I feel like crying and I may let myself do that before she gets back. I’m happy Gracie was so helpful last night. She’s a sweetheart. Sg had nightmares so Cap had quite the night of service. He went back and forth between my room and Sg’s. That’s why I call him Captain my Captain. The boy never quits.

Maureen

Still Up

It’s 6:21AM

I’m still up. I’ve done nothing today. I haven’t opened my email box or sent an email or done anything but therapy and PC art. the messages on my phone are still blinking. I haven’t even listened to them. I intended to call my friend in Maryland to see if she was flooded out but somehow I spaced that. Goodness, great friend I am.

Everybody in the house was asleep but me. I was sitting here playing Bejeweled2 waiting for the sun to come up. It’s up. I still didn’t want to go to sleep. I call this voluntary insomnia. I was feeling quite low and doing poorly on my game I might add when Gracie (the older cat at age 1) came on my lap and insisted that she was going to love on me. I should blame her for the loss of that last game cause nobody can play a game with a cat in their face, licking their chin, purring in their ear just in case you didn’t hear them at your chin. I’d move her out of the way, she’d jump back up unfazed that I moved her. She crawled on the back of the chair then to my lap, purring and rubbing against my face with that long hair of hers. I was trying to keep her away while I played this game (poorly) but Gracie insisted that she was going to be petted and that she was going to lick my chin and my eye. I have to laugh because at one point she was holding my hand back so she could lick my face and rub up against it. It was like, hold still, i’m going to love you whether you want me to or not. See, Captain will sit at my side and let me mess around for hours and say nothing, not Gracie. She’ll come over like, okay, you’ve been screwing around long enough. It’s my time now, get off the PC. So, again today she forced me to come back from my depths of depression, the downward slope i was on got a brief interruption by the kitty that refused to

I’m about to lay down with the fur family and Sg. Sg is in the other room. She has to be up at noon. I hope I’m asleep by then but I don’t know. I plan to lay down and relax and keep Gracie from licking my eye but so far i’ve been unsuccessful. She will lick the lid right off if I don’t fight her. My goodness, Sg has a red spot where the skin is missing from where her cat Tor-ti licked her in her sleep. This is my thought, if you didn’t feel the first layer of your skin being removed then your sleep medication is wayyyy tooo strong. I’m just sayin maybe Ambien is not for you!!! She has this nickle size skinned area on her forehead. Thank goodness I don’t sleep much or I’d be One Eye’d Aussie cause man does Gracie go after that eye with fury. When she cleans the kitten she holds her down and when the kitten starts screaming for mercy I tell Gracie to let her up. Sometimes I think they’re playing Uncle. See who can hurt the other and make them beg them to stop. But I have to break in when little Bella is yelling Uncle cause, well, she’s tiny and Gracie isn’t. It’s not a fair fight. But it is funny when Bella stalks her then Gracie pounces on her first. Bella starts screaming like, why did you do that to me I was minding my own business and here you come and hurt me. The girl has mental issues. I worry about her. she is such the talker….meow, meow, meow! Anyway, I have to hit the sheets. Cap is dead to the world and in my bed, Gracie is barely being held back and Bella is at the foot of the bed a safe distance from Captain. He kinda….no kinda nothing..he kicks a lot in his sleep. She learned very quickly that she will go airborne if she is behind Cappy when he’s sleeping.

Okay, so I’m now giving in, crying Uncle and going to bed. the sun is up, Gracie is purring, Sg is snoring, Cappy is kicking and Bella, well Bella is sleeping peacefully until Gracie decides its time to give her a bath. I’ve already had mine.

Austin, on the wrong side of the sheets.

Therapy Today

Therapy Day
Sg will be here shortly. I needed the company. On the phone she asked me why it was that I was still having so much trouble with nightmares and flashbacks. I told her, I’ve only been completely separated from my mother for 4 years and that the last time she asked me for sex was when I was 24. But she still brought it up the abuse from time to time. She brought up the physical abuse the most. She thought it was funny. She’d bring it up in public just to humiliate us. I was an adult then. My come backs to some of her statements took onlookers by surprise just as much as the mother’s statements did. “Do you remember that time I hog tied you?” My reply, “Yes, I talked about it in therapy last week.” We were standing at the check out in a local department store when this conversation took place.

Dr.B and I talked about the things I use to do as a child that were way beyond my years. I told him about the thing with the checkbook and about how when she left I told her she couldn’t take the money that she’d have to go pennyless. I told him, if I had that kind of strength then and determination to live despite her actions why do I feel so tired now? I wondered if I’d spent all I had just surviving her. He said that I lived in a state of emergency. I did what I had to do to keep living but when I moved out of her house in ‘92 I no longer had to live in that emergency state. He said I might have just shut down from exhaustion. Then he added, why wouldn’t you be tired after that? I did a double take like, what did you say? I hardly ever look him in the eye. I keep my eyes to the floor but when he said this I looked up at him, turned my head in wonder then looked at him again. My eyes returned to the floor and a soft smile fell across my face. I told him that the people that comment on my journal say that he’s a keeper. He said, I have my own fan club? I said yeah, it’s the Dr. B fan club.

The session was hard because we got into some stuff but all in all it was another assurance that this guy can do me some good. I’m thrilled beyond belief to have his support. He is looking to get me into a support group that lasts for 10 weeks and is based on sexual abuse survivors. I told him I didn’t want to be in the Borderline Personality Disorder group because the last time I was in a room full of borderlines I wanted to start popping pills and drinking. He laughed. I said, I’ll skip on the borderline group. One or two of us together is one thing but you put a bunch of us in one room and it is chaos personified. Oh the manipulation is as thick as the mud in the Mississippi river or the Indiana retention ponds. Everyone is talking but no one is really saying what they mean or asking for what they need in an appropriate manner. You couldn’t cut the tension with a.Ginsu. In fact there is no tension felt because as borderlines we are able to simply numb it and pretend we feel nothing. We can laugh and cross each others boundaries at full speed while disregarding our own..all without blinking and eye. So no thank you Dr.B, I’ll pass the plate on that one.

I’ve got to get some sleep. I’ve been up all night because I was trying to be at my 9am appointment. Why on earth would anyone want to do anything at 9am? That is an ungodly hour I must say. If I’d gone to sleep I wouldn’t have gotten up on time and I would have missed out on my therapy session lesson. I have to try not to put this guy on a pedestal because when he fucks up, and he will because he’s human I don’t want to have to resort to old coping skills to deal with his fuck up. You know like, oh my goodness. I thought you were different but you’re like everybody else. I have to go home and do some comfort eating and sulk around the house all day remembering every single person on the face of the earth that has turned their back on me or put a knife in my back. Woe is me! So see, ever once in awhile I’ll have to diss him publicly to make sure that I keep him down on a fallible human level.

I need sleep. The dog is snoring and kicking, farting and throws out an occasional squeal as he chases the squirrel that always alludes him in his dreams. The two cats have chased each other so much that they are worn out and crashed. It’s my turn now. Blue plaid sheets, here I come.

so what does a person do all night instead of sleep? Well, the floors have been steam cleaned. i used flea soap on it then rinced it with downey. Downy is a good flea killer and it makes the carpet soft and it smells nice. I did two loads of laundry, washed the dog and played Bejeweled2. I’m exhausted. 


Joan of Arc, on the wrong side of the covers

My Reply to The Doctor aka King of BR

(This person left 2 spam comments on the entry I Can’t Get Over it. His name has been trunkated to prevent further spam and to make sure my blog isn’t linked to his in search engines. He calls himself Dr so and so and then adds king of….)

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The Doctor aka King of (name removed) says: I’m a shrink, but I’m not here to provide therapy. When I’m not doing therapy, I am participating in a new form of expression I call (name removed) Here are a few original songs that folks here may find therapeutic:

Destiny says:

Dear Doctor and King of What The Hell Ever,

Clearly you were not here to provide therapy, just to sell us some songs you wrote about PTSD and some other crap. I wasn’t up to spam from a professional today. Today was the wrong day to send this crap to me. I would have overlooked it and simply deleted your comments (like I’ve already done) and moved on but nope, not today. You caught me in a vile mood.

I expect spam from idiots selling drugs or things that supposedly will make my life better but when a professional, a therapist no less, comes to a recovery journal and spams me on the basis of my disorder I find it quite offensive.

How dare you use your profession and knowledge of PTSD to target sufferers and sell them your songs at the ever so low price of 99 cents each? Who the hell do you think you are? That is unethical to the extreme. My goodness. It would have been different if your site was about therapy in some way shape or form but it’s not, it’s about buying songs that you want to sell to PTSD sufferers from Japan, the UK, Canada and everywhere else. See, I verify shit like this before I approve the comment. Dr. King of what the fuck ever, my standards are very low for comments I’ll approve. It shocks me that you, a professional, fell below the already sub-standard levels. WTF?

Don’t come here with your title and what not trying to sell anything to anybody with PTSD. This is your own agenda. I have mine, it’s to heal and not be bothered by so-called professionals that come here to sell me a product with the premise that it’ll help me. God help your clients or your former clients if they too were part of your personal agenda.

Thank you for proving that there are people in the world that can fall below the lowest standards possible. You have set a world record here. While recording this world record I was able to step aside from my PTSD issues to deal with your sorry ass. You fake therapist with a real ethics problem! I hope, oh how I hope that this does not give you PTSD. If it does I know of some songs at the low price of 99 cents that might help you “get over it.”

And let this be a lesson to all other therapists, psychologists, medical processionals and fake wannabe’s . Don’t come to me with this shit!!!

Sincerely,

Destiny in collaboration with Sundrip Journals and a proud soldier of Morton’s Pride

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Miserable Dreams – Entry To Bring In To Therapy

We were in that house we use to live in, the one from the fourth grade where she made life miserable for us. She always made it miserable but it seemed there were 2 houses that were the worst. The second house in the 4th grade where all that stuff happened in the entry about Mother’s Talk To Your daughters, this is that house in last night’s dream. In the dream we were visiting the grandmother. She needed assistance to walk so I built her a wheelchair. I had to go in that infamous downstairs billiard room to move a bunch of stuff around so she could go down there and sleep. She and my grandfather were getting a divorce and she was moving out of the top floor bedroom. The dream switched to me, as an adult, shopping in a store with the mother and my sister. I dream about that store often. It has pretty much everything a person would want to buy save a lung or a kidney. In the dream I’m usually there to buy a huge bag of dog food which they are always out of. The dream then switched to me walking down the hall of a junior high school that I use to go to. I was walking with my sister looking for a restroom. We found one and I went in to do my business. As we walked out my sister shoved me behind the door and let two people come in before we could leave. I was squeezed behind the door and kind of squealing about it. When I was set loose I realized that it was two men that came into the restroom. They were looking at us oddly. That’s when I realized that my sister tricked me and took me to the men’s restroom. I didn’t think it was funny. She tried to laugh it off and said she was just messing around but I felt tricked and that didn’t feel to good. She tried to console me by rubbing her hand on my face but I pushed her away. She tried rubbing her hand on my hand and I pushed her away and told her not to try and be sensitive NOW because it was too late.

The dream switched to me as an adult laying next to my naked mother in her bed at the 4th grade house. We were talking about my grandparents divorcing. I jokingly said that does Granddaddy realize that after all these years of marriage he’ll be lucky to be awarded his toothbrush? She laughed. He wont even have enough money to buy a new one, I added. That’s when my sister walked in the room, fully dressed like I was. My mother then said that her heart was bothering her. She laid in the middle of the bed and said she was having a heart attack. I tried to do chest compressions but my hands were not strong enough to do it. (In waking hours I have strong hands, it’s the grip that I have problems with but pushing down or up is not a problem.) I called 911 and told them she was having a heart attack. The operator didn’t believe me. She said that sometimes a mother will have a “heart attack” when her kids go off to college or when some mother-child separating event pops up. I asked, are you saying she’s faking this? She said, I wouldn’t have chosen that word but since you did, yes, she’s faking. Just then I looked over and the mother is sitting at a dinner table (which suddenly appeared in the dream) eating with my sister beside her. She said to me, I didn’t think she would believe me. I asked her if she still wanted an ambulance and she said no, she was feeling better. I rolled over and woke up.

When I opened my eyes I had this sick dreadful feeling, the feeling I get when I’ve had a dream that has touched some deep issues.

It is something of note that the sister would rub her hand on my face or arm to try and sooth me. That is what our main caretaker Adam does when we are upset. He rubs the back of his hand very softly on our cheek to sooth us. It’s quite helpful.

I didn’t think I could handle any company so I called and canceled with Sg. She was coming to dinner but today isn’t a good day for company. I have to try and get grounded and I worry that with her here I’ll be distracted but not grounded.

The things in this dream that actually happened in real life are:

  • The divorce of my grandparents on their 60th anniversary.
  • The faked heart attack and seeking help for the fake heart attack

Recurrent dream themes:

  • The house from the 4th grade.
  • The We Have Everything store.
  • Restrooms (My strongest OCD stuff has to do with the restroom and toilets.)

What I plan on doing to get grounded:

  • First and foremost I have to take some clonapin.
  • Get a cup of coffee.
  • Play Yo-Yo Ma and pet the dog.
  • Say my name, birth date, current age and that I’m an adult and the I’m save. I’ll say this OUT LOUD as often as I feel I’m slipping into a dissociative stupor.
  • I have to do ADL’s: shower, brush teeth, eat dinner, take meds, etc.
  • journal only when absolutely necessary. If my head gets too full and I’ve got to purge it that’s when I’ll journal but other than that no journaling and pretty much staying off the PC.
  • I will not be reading any of the book today.

I feel:

  • numb with an occasional bit of
  • worry
  • and a slight tingle of fear.

Destiny of Morton’s Pride
Miserable Dreams – Entry To Bring In To Therapy-Wednesday, June 28, 2006-6:08 pm

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Therapy Assignment: I Can’t Get Over It

Therapy Assignment: I Can’t Get Over It! -Tuesday, June 28th , 2006-11:42 pm

I started reading the book my therapist gave me to read because I figured that I wasn’t getting any better or any worse with this newest bought of depression. I’m happy I started it. This entry might not make any sense to anyone else but these are just some notes for me to come back to. They said to start an I Can’t Get Over It journal but I’m just going to add a category and leave it on this journal.

Intro page 2

Quote:PTSD – A Normal Reaction to an Abnormal Amount of Stress
If you suspect that you suffer from PTSD, do not be alarmed. PTSD is an entirely normal reaction to an abnormal amount of stress. Having PTSD does not mean you are mentally ill, nor does it mean that you are weak or somehow deficient. Think of it this way: no matter how strong your leg bones, if enough force is applied, they will break. Given the proper care, they can also heal. And so can you.  End quote.

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