Monthly Archive for June, 2006

Page 3 of 6

Finding Herself

Published on June 21, 2006 in Art and Poetry. 1 Comment

Wednesday, June 21, 2006-5:06AM

Image and Poetry copyright © Sundrip Journals

She’s almost confident but still a little awkward but she’ll find the woman she was created to be. The poem is an old one, a re-post but I liked it for this piece. It’s another PC drawn image.

A Woman

The Paris sunset that finds itself in the center of every love story
An early morning of fog that holds extra long above the lake
The soft fall of snowflakes that disappear on a windowpane
Can never contest the joy in a mother’s heart when a newborn opens her eyes
And with tears announces herself to the world.

There is no shine like her smile.
There is no greater bond than mother and baby
And no greater gift than passing along life
Her tiny fingers grasp this thing called life and hold it in confidence.

She drinks a child’s milk and slowly grows to hold
the silver goblet of liberty
This young one will drink a sour wine, a taste she does not know
But passing the spring of youth, to sweet womanhood she will grow.

This tiny flower blossoms,
Transforming from pink to scarlet red
With a tip of white innocence that will never fade
She will make since of the stars and their constellations
She’ll move with the waves and bend with the strongest of trees
A woman is what she will be.

Freeman of
Morton’s Pride

Confrontation With Barney

Published on June 20, 2006 in For the Record, Relationships, Soapbox and Therapy. 1 Comment

Conversations With Barney-Tuesday, June 20, 2006-8:09PM

We’ll we’ve had that conversation. I couldn’t just keep walking around the house without saying something about the check. I brought up the conversation by saying that UK told me she ran into him at the store the other day. From there we talked about the check. He said that just because I was unhappy doesn’t mean that I should simply not pay the full amount. I told him that not paying him the fifty dollars was prior to him going out there and spending full days in the yard. It was prior to him cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the dining room. He said I would have done that anyway. Oh right! I pointed to the stove and showed him what I meant by how filthy the place is. I told him that when I first moved in I would take care of the kitchen if he would sweep and mop the floor. He said that does mop from time to time and that he doesn’t care if the kitchen is clean or not. I told him that I could explain in detail what is wrong with the kitchen and the hallways but that it would fall on Deaf ears. It doesn’t make sense to you and I’d be wasting my breath, I said. At that point he lost eye contact and never regained it. I made sure my voice was soft and even toned so that I didn’t clam him up further. I needed to say what I needed to say so I had to adapt to his issues with confrontations. One thing I pulled from the conversation is that he is not kicking me out. I didn’t think he would even though some of my anxiety has been about that. So by the end of the conversation he realized that I wasn’t going to give him the fifty bucks and I realized he simply doesn’t care about his house or anyone but himself.

I absolutely refuse to walk around a pink elephant. I don’t have to yell and scream or even raise my voice to get my point across but I do need to get it across. If the person is an idiot there is nothing I can do about it. But it is unthinkable on my part to walk around the house adding to the under current. Hell, if I learned anything from being abused its that under current, unspoken feeling that may or may not be valid, can cause friction that bursts into abuse. While Barney better never lay his hands on me it is still my belief that undercurrent is unhealthy and will form in other ways such as passive aggression. Overall I thought our conversation went smoothly. There was no blood shed, no cursing, nothing to take away and feel bitter about.

That is all,


I Should Mention

Published on June 20, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Mental Health. 0 Comments

I should mention that we aren't suicidal. We feel pretty down but we aren't suicidal. We meant what we said yesterday, we are happy we lived because we have moments that are wonderful and peaceful.

Last night when Sg was here I went ahead and threw some chicken in a ginger and sesame seed w/ mandarine orange marinade. I popped it in the fridge so that all I have to do is take it from there and put it in the oven. We'll do some sort of box friend rice or even plane rice I think and then add a veggie. I think we only have brocoli right now and green beans. the broc would be better with this. so, at least we will be having a good meal today. yesterday i had a sandwich from mcdonalds and a french fry. other than that i've not eaten a meal in two days. i did have the 2 oz of beer LOL with the cookies so if you count that then I've had 2 meals. We're taking in our fluids and everything though. My computer is acting stupid. I think everything in the house is acting stupid except Barney. What is wrong with the world? When I asked him to take me to get that beer at midnight he was up. He stays up late too, not as late as me but he's up late. He's been cleaning and working in the yard. He's not been eating my food and the man has been cleaning. That just throws me. 

Austin

All My Senses But No Sense At All

Published on June 20, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dreams, For the Record, Mental Health and Therapy. 2 Comments

All Senses But No Sense At All-Tuesday, June 20, 2006-8:08AM

I seem to want to smoke square after square. I want to put something in my mouth to fill a hole I guess. Here it is 7:39AM and I'm still up. After I realized that smoking wasn’t helping I started thinking about food. I didn’t cook anything but I could use some pizza or cookies or something soft but not cold. Then I thought to myself, what can I do on the net, what can I look at on the net to kind of fill this hole? I've rubbed my face with the back of my hand in a self-soothing fashion. I've listened to the rain in hopes of drowning out the emptiness. It's strange that yesterday I felt so good but today I feel empty, hollow.

Obviously I'm putting off sleep again. After last night’s dreams why on earth would I want to go to sleep?

I started to say that I don’t know where the day has gone but I kinda remember. I spent some time with UK and her family. Her kids brought home a snapper turtle as big as a hub cap. The ugly thing….actually he wasn't ugly. He was quite beautiful once they pulled all the leeches off him. Anyway though- they poked him with a stick and then decided to eat him. I then decided that all three of those boys were future serial killers. Then I talked to Beer Belly Billy but that was short cause he was so shit-faced that he couldn’t really stand up. so i traveled home and did whatever I did. I have no clue. Then it came to be about 10:30PM and Sg showed up and stayed until about midnight. I can't account for what I've done since she's been gone other than trying to fill this hole. The TV has been off for days. We did watch our movie again, Hide And Seek with Dakota Fanning. Love that movie! But that was yesterday.

Therapy is Friday and I haven't even touched my writing assignment. Goodness! This just isn’t me. I would have done that assignment by now. What the heck is wrong with me? I have a few hours out of this funk and then it's right back again. I can't say I didn’t enjoy the few hours. I did. I felt it completely and didn’t think about how things should always be that way. Maybe it was because I wrote it earlier in the day when sleep was a distant worry. I don’t know, but I've tried to fill my senses with this and that to somehow affect my mood. I forgot to use the senses I learned in therapy. Nothing outside myself is going to fix what I feel right now. Not food, not visual images, nothing is going to give me a permanent fix other than working through this crap. To tell you the truth, getting a good nights sleep will help my mood but there is no such thing as a good nights sleep with me. I may get some rest but I hardly ever get recharged. I spend the night waking in a gasp and hearing the people inside say, "if you need to scream just scream. why are you holding it in?" they keep saying, "just scream." I don’t scream. I just try to go back to sleep. But the urge to scream out is strong. I think I fear scaring the fur babies. I think I fear making a sound because if you cant hear me then maybe…let me say what I mean…if Mama cant hear me then she doesnt know where I am. She can't hurt me. I can fade into the background and be skipped over this time around. It doesnt make any sense at all. It just doesnt.

I have not touched the book "I Can't Get Over It" I just don’t think right now is a good time to do that. Words come out of my mouth that have nothing at all to do with the subject. I'll try to say cup but banana will come out or I'll try to say radio and dog will come out. I have to stop and think before I do something and remind myself of where I am and what I'm doing. I do not understand what's happening to me…to us. Sg asked why I never let her read my journal but that unknown numbers of strangers read my thoughts. I told her that I dont have to look the people on the net in the eye knowing they know what's in my head. It is much different to write an entry and get a comment in writing than it is to look someone in the eye knowing they know. Yall can't see me twist my hair or rub my face. You can't see my eyes glaze over then focus again to the present. You can't see a blank expression on my face during a time when I should have responded with some sort of emotion. It is so much easier writing and letting strangers read because I dont have to look you in the eye knowing that you know what's been done to me or what I've done to myself, or what I think and dream about. That's what I told her. She seemed to be okay with that answer for now. The issue of trust will come up. Why dont I see her as someone that can be looked in the eye after being told their inner most secrets? She'll eventually want to know that and I'll have to tell her again, it's nothing personal.

Maureen with Joan close by

 

Gratitude Monday: Today I’m Walking

Published on June 19, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, For the Record, Gratitude Journal and Therapy. 0 Comments

Gratitude Monday: Today I’m Walking – Monday, June 19, 2006-8:42PM

Gratitude: being thankful, having the desire or reason to thank somebody, to value something of quality, to understand the importance, meaning and significance of something.

Gratitude Monday: a loose rendering of gratitude, a list or just a few words to show appreciation for or recognition for big and small accomplishments.

I saw something strange today. I saw a black person. Why is that so strange? Well, in my neighborhood I’m the only spot of colour for what seems like miles. I felt obligated to speak. I’m happy I did ‘cause brother-man was cute.

I moved to Clinton, IN years ago with a roommate. My then roommate said the town had 15 black people but they were all me! Yeah, an MPD joke. I happen to think that MPD jokes are funny so I wasn’t offended at all. The number she used is her guess because I never give an exact number. People seem to pay attention to the number and not the disorder itself. The truth is, while there is humor with this disorder it is mostly stress and disorganization. I hate it when people use the word “fascinating” in association with DID/MPD. Why is it fascinating? Are people fascinated by amputees’? They’ve gone through some sort of trauma and lost part of themselves, are they fascinating? Their spirit will heal and they’ll realize they are whole even without a limb. Does that fascinate you that they’d go through all that pain physically and emotionally, spiritually and socially? Maybe they’ll get a prosthetic limb and learn to walk again. I’ll do therapy and learn to think like a singleton again. Both processes are painful. You go through several prosthetics before you get the right fit. You have the friction burns, the bleeding and the cracking. You change blood stained wrappings and trying to keep up with the rest of your life. Is that fascinating? No, it’s not. I’m in therapy. I have to get the right fit, the right therapist, go through growing pains with that therapist, work on issues and somehow keep the rest of my life in some sort of order. Eventually I’ll feel less pain but like an amputee there will be times when it is soar and uncomfortable for me. I’ll adapt as they do. Is this fascinating to you?

(she's missing and arm) Image copyright © Sundrip JournalsI know the human mind works wonders. It provides a safety net for you, an armored jacket to protect you from life’s wounds. Had I not been able to use that armor in a “creative” way I think I’d be dead. I think I would have died under my mother’s hand. So I have to say that even though life was horrific I am grateful that I found a way to keep living. Had I not kept living I would have never known what it feels like to be happy. I never would have known that mixed with horror is sunshine and mixed with fear is blue skies and cool breezes. Today I am happy to be alive. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but today I’m happy to be alive. I’m happy to be using the tools I’ve been given (from God and from man) to help me learn to walk again. Today I’m walking.

Austin

Willow People

Published on June 19, 2006 in Art. 2 Comments

Willow Child

UK says she looks like the Willow People that she buys for her mantels. I like to draw the children with no real facial features because it means the child could be anyone at all. She could be you or me.

See Sundrip.com for print options.

Bad Girl Syndrome – Flawless

Published on June 19, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, For the Record, Mental Health and PTSD. 0 Comments

This Is Not My Fault – Flawless Monday, June 19, 2006-6:05 AM

I’ve been beating myself up over this issue with Barney. I’ve been trying to be a “good girl” and fix things. I’ve mulled over in my head all that I’ve done wrong here. I’ve thought about what I could do to fix things and added even more stress to this situation. The last few days here have been pretty good. I refuse to get my hopes up though cause if I know Barney, and I think I do, he’ll start slacking off again. When it gets really bad again I hope to remember that not everything in the world is my fault. I knew my transference issues with him were strong but I didn’t realize just how strong they were until I read an old entry. As a matter of fact had I not gotten a comment on the entry Flawless I wouldn’t have gotten a reminder that something are just out of my control. Sometimes people are just idiots like Barney is and sometimes they’re abusers like my mother. I seem to respond to both types the same way. Somehow it all comes down to “what could I have done to make this person happy?” What can I have done to not mess this up?”

It is just simply not my fault that Barney is an ass. He was an ass before I began renting from him and I’m sure that at the age of 63 he will not suddenly decide to change from his ass-like ways. He is not my mother. He is not her and I’m not back there anymore. I’m an adult now that does not have to fear the way I did as a child. I didn’t mess up everything I touched as a kid and I don’t mess up everything that I touch now. It’s hard to not think like that. Heck, sometimes I still think that there was something, anything I could have done to make my home life better when I was young. But what? What could a small child do to change a very angry woman? I never saw myself as a child. I saw myself as an adult so it seems logical now that I would put adult pressures on the child I use to be. I don’t know if I said that right. Anyway though, I hope I can keep it in my head that that was then and this is now. I don’t have to respond to both situations with old coping skills.

I was bitching about Barney and his triflin’ self but I was having such a hard time with keeping my part of the house up because the OCD was out of control. I’m wondering if my issues of feeling so out of control fueled the OCD. I wasn’t able to touch much of anything. If you can’t touch it you sure as heck can’t clean it. So the house just got worse and worse. When it gets messy I lose my ground, I start thinking I live with the mother again. I don’t. Thank God I don’t! And I kept expecting him to call me by my birth name.

A case manager of mine once told me that he can always tell how I’m doing by how my house looks. He said if it looks museum clean then I’m having some serious OCD issues. If it looks clean like a low end OCD victim then he said he knew I was doing well. He told me he knew I was close to needing to go in patient when he came over and saw my house in shambles. I have to admit that last week I feared I’d be right back in the hospital. If I had gone I would have had to leave the house looking like a gang of bums moved in, trashed the place and left it abandoned for other bums to come and trash then let wild animals run through it then let some rain soak in the mold logged carpet. This place was looking pretty bad. I just couldn’t seem to do anything about it though. I stopped eating, I stopped cooking, I stopped taking photographs, I stopped just about everything I normally do and enjoy. Heck, I basically stopped reading other journals and that’s not like me at all. And try and get a private email out of me? Yeah right! It was like pulling teeth. So all the signs were around me, I was crashing. I just didn’t have the drive to do anything about it. Well a few days ago I just started doing all this PC art because I knew I had a bunch of stuff in my head that needed to get out. I wasn’t doing any real journal entries ‘cause there weren’t words that I could get out. I had to “draw” them out. I drew continuously for days. I did it on the PC and I did some by hand. I have to admit I feel a bit better inside, less cluttered. I have to say too that recent events in the city have been weighing on my mind but for the most part it’s my transference issues that have me by the horns.

I need to give a special thank you to a reader for leaving a comment on the entry called Flawless. I needed to re-read that entry. It gave me some insight into my current thought patterns. Barney is an ass and that it’s just not my fault.

Deb Says:
June 19th, 2006 at 1:36 am

Wow…what a way you have with words! And your art is so beautiful, it touches me deeply. I too have DID, so I know of the kind of pain you express so well. My heart goes out to you, and I must commend your bravery and honesty in sharing your thoughts and pain with the world. Also, your courage in changing your name has given me much to mull over. Thank you so much for your website!

Austin