Monthly Archive for October, 2006Page 2 of 5

Issues Binding

Copyright 2006 @ Sundrip Graphics All rights reserved

Issues binding. This picture started out titled Walk With Me but in the middle of making it I turned to showing what it feels like to try and move with the past holding onto you. I thought about writing the word guilt on the floor of the painting but then I just left it blank because this could mean so many things. Held by guilt, held by nightmares, held by other issues, just held against your will and it feels like you just can’t break free. You know what though? I will.

Psalms 18:29- For by you I can run against a marauder band: And by my God I can climb a wall.

Austin

For The Therapist: Slave To Dreams

Grandmothers house, empty car port.

In mvie theater. The movie showed on the screen but it was words only, no pictures. (opposite of what has been happening lately. I can’t seem to say words I can see the picture but can’t get the words out) the mother was in the seat next to me sleeping. The person next to me family member was picking with her while she slept. Never a good idea. The mother woke and said she had to use the restroom but that it felt good to hold it. She stood up to hold it and I began pushing her to the restroom. We finally got there and the line was long yet all the stalls were unoccupied. Every one of the toilets was gross, restroom tissue, crap, pee, all of them filled to the rim. Some of them had it on the sets and what not. it seemed each stall we went to got worse. then stall #8 had something even more strange. A kitten was sitting on the toilet seat climbing out of the bowl. He wasn’t wet or dirty or anything. He was scared to death though. When he realized he’d been seen he climbed out and stayed close to the wall, low and tried to run from the restroom. As he did the door opened and a lady came in with a toddler in her hand and an empty infant carrier. The cat climbed into the carrier and turned into a baby. Next thing you know the baby is tossed into the dirty toilet in stall #8. the baby was a new born, like hours old, very quiet too.

I took him and cleaned him off and went up to the popcorn stand to tell them I found a new born. The lady said she’d call child services but they were most likely closed until Monday morning. I decided to take the baby home with me until then. I remember thinking I wanted to keep the baby but it would be hell trying to get a birth certificate for him and legalize his adoption. It was time to feed the baby but somehow instead of a bottle he ended up inside a bag of milk. I asked a girl (?) if the baby could breathe in there and she said probably not so I opened the bag and wiped him off and began to burp him. I was walking around with him, he was still quiet. Then he moved a bit oddly in my arms. Someone was making a heck of a lot of noise and the newborn told them to shut up. Of course this was odd but what happened next was even more strange. I said to the baby, are you a demon. He said yes then proceeded to put his thumb in my right eye and try to blind me. I woke up. The babies body was normal proportions but his arms and legs were spaghetti sticks, literally spaghetti strips but dry not cooked. The proportions were equal but the baby was about 10 inches tops. The baby was maybe ½ pound. By the end of the dream he was a regular size baby.

Oct 24th 2006

I’m in the old school hallway and I can’t find my locker. The school is closing for the year and they’re giving out food. I’m walking along the hallway with a black kitten in my hands but the kitten turns into a baby doll. I put the doll on the floor and try to remember the combination to my locker. A girl says I’m irresponsible for putting a baby on the floor but I told her it was a doll. She was still angry.

I’m traveling around the country by car looking for someone (???) but at every rest stop is a shop selling porcelain dolls. Some are expensive and others are about $1.00.

I keep dreaming about dolls becoming cats or visa versa. I keep dreaming about cats multiplying but some are malformed. Some don’t have eyes or legs, some are just a head and there are tons of them all over the grass and the hill in front of the house in the 4th grade. It is always night time in dreams like that, always a filthy restroom, always someone to run from. The mother keeps the doors locked and looks out the windows suspiciously. She says someone is watching us and is coming for us. Sometimes in the dreams she is clothed and other times she is not…always the 4th grade house. This was the only house we lived in that was clean but it was also the house with a field in the back that I crossed in order to sit on the railroad tracks so it could run over me. 4th grade is a pivotal year. I started therapy then too, been in it ever since mostly on and off but mostly on clear up into high school.

Common theme:

  • Movie theater
  • Mutilated or malformed cats
  • Paranoid mother or sleeping mother
  • Grandmother’s house, empty carport

New or Newer:

  • Cats turning into babies and visa versa (meaning of cats in dreams)
  • Black porcelain dolls which I currently collect. (very small collection, about 15 ranging from about decent price to dirt cheap at $1.00) Wasn’t allowed to play with dolls when I was a kid.

I’m sick of being a slave to the dreams. Good gracious Dr. B.

See ya Thursday. I took a little vacation last week end from working on stuff. I had a good week end in general. I can’t complain about that at all. It was pretty nice. I’ve eaten a few times this week and I’ve done better with meds. Kept the curtains open, went outside a few times with Cap, talked on the phone a bit and other stuff. I’ve kept up with ADL’s. Sometimes I feel good other times I don’t. I’m up and down. When I’m up I’m up when I’m down dang am I down. I have a better support system than before so I suppose it makes the hard times easier to handle. It use to just be me out here hanging alone but thats not so true anymore.

Me

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Lessons in Futility

Lessons In Futility-Tuesday, October 24, 2006-7PM EST

I felt sorry for Barney because he worked his friends to death getting that garage down before the 1pm deadline. I felt sorry and sad for him because it took almost getting a lean on the house and a fine for $2,500 for him to do something about the garage and the yard. It saddens me that anyone would allow the 30 days they were given to go by and then on the 29th day at the 11th hour he has his friends outside in the chilly air taking it down piece by piece. I don’t know, it was just sad. I’m happy that is gone but to know that someone is so off in their priorities just kinda breaks my heart. It makes me wonder what he was thinking and why on earth it was okay for him to go out to the singles parties and what not instead of getting the yard together so he wouldn’t be sued and further shamed. It doesn’t make any sense to me. If someone told me they would put a lean on the house and charge me 2,500 bucks I think I’d act that night….heck, I wouldn’t have let it get that bad that the health department would threaten my credit and the status of ownership. I don’t know… he seems like a guy running around like a chicken with his head cut off.

Last night he came in and the first thing he did was get ready to go direct a play that the singles club is putting on. I thought to myself, hum, he’s not starring in this one he’s better in a position of control. I can’t believe I thought it. I don’t know why I thought it because he’s more of a follower than a leader.

The other day he said that to make up for the $25 in rent that he took off the total cost I could do some house chores. Yeah! Let me get right on that Barney! Then recently he came home and said, “Thank you for turning on the porch light so I could see to put the key in the door.” I said, “Did I forget to turn on the light?” He said, “No, I was serious, thank you.” I about fell on the floor. That is the first time I have ever heard him say thank you about anything that’s why I thought he was being sarcastic. He caught me off guard. He also decided again to start eating my food only this time he made a mistake and ate something that was prepared for the dog. It was stew. It had meat and carrots and peas in it but it also had dog chow in it. He ate some and you better believe I told him about the chow in it. He will either do something really stupid and I think he can’t shock me any further then he’ll do something nice and shock the crap out of me only to revert to the stupid moron that he is. I don’t understand it yet I stay.

Another chance to turn it all aroundSecretly, I hope that when he ends up needing some sort of convalescent care that I’m the one to give it to him. I wouldn’t be mean so don’t think that. I think it would make me feel useful. I miss doing that kind of work. I like it actually. It was the thought of washing a dead body that made me leave the job training. They said it was a requirement. I just couldn’t risk that spontaneous muscle spasm thing they do after death. I don’t think my heart could take it…an arm just lifts up and they’re supposed to be dead. Nope, couldn’t do it, had to go. I think too that taking care of his convalescent self would be another chance to prove that Aussie isn’t a bad girl. It would be another way to recreate the past and prove once and for all that I’m worth something. I can make things right this time (another chance to turn it all around). I can see that so clearly, me trying to re-create the past. If something needs to be re-created its his level of common sense. Poor sap. Barney!

The picture is a PostSecret image

Me

 

Oh What a Night - Shoes and Socks

I’ve got to get myself together. I’m somewhat depressed, anxious, irritated and in serious need of a shower and some coffee. Rough night though I woke up giggling from a dream. I had a dream that I was wearing green stripped shoes with pink stripped socks and hanging out with the singer John Mayer. He has a commercial right now with Volkswagen were he’s playing the guitar. In the dream he was staying in the hotel room next to me. He looked at me like I was crazy because I had on green stripped shoes with pink stripped socks. I woke up giggling.

It was a heavy night and a very long one, lots of pacing, lots of head breaking, brain squeezing flashbacks and a strong need to hurt myself. I think I rearranged the furniture 4 times last night to try and do something other than cut. I started to take a walk but it was around 3am and the sun wasn’t up. We don’t have street lights, just house lights so walking in the dark is just dangerous. The golf course doesn’t even have lights around it. No sidewalks + no lights= robbed and left for dead.

So anyway, I got up when the alarm clock went off. I stumbled into the kitchen to throw some chicken in the crock pot so I can have chicken ala king later this evening. This crock pot is a little guy, 2 quarts I think. I always forget to turn it on. I put all the stuff in it then walk away and maybe 30 min later I think to myself, did I turn that thing on? The lights come on as if I’ve turned it on when all I’ve done is plug it in. one would think I’d remember that the lights just mean it has power but I seem to forget every single time to turn the stupid thing on. So, as per usual I had to go back and turn on the chicken. The biscuits will be made later. They need to be kinda fresh not 3 hours old but just out of the oven when I toss the chicken ala king over them…

I hope this day starts to look better….actually….there are some things I plan to do to make this day look better. I have to open the curtains..no ifs, ands or butts about it. I have to take medication. I have to actually eat the meal I’m cooking and not just put it in Cappy’s bowl. I have to step outside my door today and get some fresh air and I cannot move around this house in complete silence. I’m going to need some stimulation so I’ve got to either turn on the radio (Napster) or toss in a YoYo Ma CD or something pleasant to listen to without words. I don’t need any more words…I have enough words in my head as it is. So, that is my plan for today.

I got my first laugh of the day from an e-friend. She wrote a story about my crazy household. The first paragraph had me rolling. She wrote this here:

It was dark and presumably night. From the depths of her doggy bed Aussie greeted the shrill ringing of the telephone with dark mutterings.

‘Cripes,” she said, fury edging her tone. “Somebody’s gettin’ themselves a neck wringing, I promise you that. Call me in the dead of the night, huh.” Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement at the sound of leaves crackling in her undies. “What the hell . . .” her voice trailed off as she caught Cappy, from the corner of her eye, sneaking over to steal the bed, still warm with her body heat.

“Freeze, mister,” she said, pointing a stern finger at his sheepishly drooping head. And to the insistent phone she hollered, “Dang on, hold your horses. Somebody better be flat out dead, only reason my phone better be ringin’, this time of night.”

I mean to tell you I laughed so hard. I won’t put the rest up here cause the story is mine all mine but that part is so funny because it is how this house runs. I do sleep in the dogs bed, he does try to steal my covers and I did find leaves in my underclothes that one day….just once mind you, not always, just once. This household is an odd one at times but truthfully there is never a dull moment. I think this e-friend pointed that out quite well. I’m glad someone else could see the humor in the madness I call home.

Now that I’ve laughed I have to go open up my curtains and get this day on the right track.

Aussie, (no socks, no shoes)
 

The Perfect Catch Your Breath Vacation

The Perfect Vacation- Monday, October 23, 2006-6:33PM

I have fallen in love with this apartment all over again. My little vacation was wonderful. I sat in front of the fire for nearly a day but then I traveled to Malan via Google Earth then over to see information on Darfur in the Sudan. I saw something on 60 Minutes about it and thought it might be a good thing to go over there and check it out. The man on TV was right, the reason it’s allowed to happen is because it’s too hard to hear about and the US has something to gain by looking the other way. So, after a lesson in repeated history my appetite for meatball lasagna was lost. I sat in front of the fireplace silently.

When I first moved here I would lie in bed and smile to myself. I would listen to the silence and think of how peaceful it is here. I felt that this week end only I was on my little pallet on the floor thinking about Pleaties (aka The 7 Sisters) and how clearly I got to see it that night. For some reason people like that cluster. I think it looks like every other cluster but then that’s just my opinion. I first heard of it from Blossom and when she showed it to me I guess I was supposed to see something spectacular but to me it was just as beautiful, no more, no less than the other stars. Nonetheless, I learned how to spot it and that was pretty cool. Barney has a telescope too. I’ve been collecting the bright leaves that have fallen. Sometimes they catch my eye, one that stands out from the others either because of how bright it is or because of how dull it is amongst the bright ones. I’ve pressed them and will preserve them shortly. I’m looking forward to it.

I hardly watched any TV at all. I stood up my secret Latin Lover Antonio Banderas so I could work on a new painting. Antonio will always be there later, he waits for me ya know, waits with that black mask and cape. Yummy! I think I may have had one cup of coffee this week end but I did get to arrange my little coffee bar the way I want it. I’m now equipped with Vanilla, Raspberry, Hazelnut and Amoretto syrup for my coffee as well Irish Cream and then makings for mock mocha. I’ve also got cinnamon and caramel to additions. Some people dream of having their own open bar at home, I’ve always wanted a coffee spot in my home. Well, I have one and I take very good care of it and stock it well. I get the syrup on sale for like $2 a bottle. When I see it that cheap I snatch it up. Then I’ve got a few selections of tea but mostly the little bar is for coffee. Ah and my mug collection is displayed picture perfect the appearance is that of a little coffee shop that charges way too much for way too little. I only have a 4 cup Mr. Coffee but he does his job, he’s loyal and all so I can’t complain. Well, I mean I could but I won’t.

So, my little vacation has come to an end. I’ll start back to reading the book I Can’t Get Over It on Tuesday. I had to switch days because it just wasn’t getting done on Wednesday. It’s dinner time. I’ve got meatball lasagna waiting for me.

That is all for now,

Alley

Therapy Vacation

I am taking a short vacation from issues. I’m not doing any kind of therapy this week end, nothing, nada, zip, zero, zilch. I have a small dinner party that I’m hosting this evening and then on Saturday I’ll be going out to get my fireplace a screen so I can have it ready for our first snow on Sunday. I plan to sit my fat butt in the lazy boy chair & drink coffee and read some of the books I got for a quarter at goodwill. Heck I might even do a movie marathon. I could stand to see my Latin Lover Antonio Bendaris again. You know, he and I have been seeing each other for awhile, Blossom never knew and neither did Antonio’s wife. Why won’t she die??? I have never seen anybody dodge bullets like that. Man that woman can run. Anyway, so I’ll be sitting in my chair with my pooch at my feet, a cat on each side of me….Lord, I sound like one of those people that has like 20 cats and fity that’s right fity (50) dogs and the house smells like pee. Oh lets hope not. so, this week end is nothing but lounging and all that. No therapy assignments, no deep conversations only shallow talk, gossip and such. I am on a therapy vacation.

Sleeping With Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Let Sleeping Dog’s Lie- The Joys of DID-Thursday, October 19, 2006-6:35AM

 

Some things are best left alone. If you ask a question ya better be prepared for the answer. As they say, sometimes its best to let sleeping dogs lie or like my grandpappy use to say, don’t start none wont be none. Okay, it wasn’t my grandfather but you get the point, it’s an old saying. Anyway, so today when I discovered leaves in my underclothes I didn’t even ask how they got there. I just did my business, washed my hands and left. I let sleeping dogs lie.

Recently there has been some pillow vandalism. It appears some one who likes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches drips the jelly while in “bed”. They leave behind this bit of evidence but so far no one has copped to the pillow vandalism. I do not know if this is the same alter/vandal that left the chocolate stain on our pillow or the same alter that ate crackers and left them under the covers for me to lay on. I’m just not sure. As much pain as there is with DID there is also humor. When I found those leaves in my undies I laughed! It’s a small thing compared to all the other crap we deal with. Leaves in my underclothes do not even make the list when it comes to my concerns.

Yes, the middles kids/alters eat peanut butter in bed; some of the teens seem to like chocolate so it gets dropped on the pillow case too. Some people wake up with sleep in their eyes but I wake up with chocolate in mine. It seems we all like to eat at night but we can’t stay awake long enough to finish it. It gets dropped, rolled on, smashed then discovered by Captain in the morning. My goodness, it’s a good thing people can’t see what goes on in this house. They’d come and take us all away. I live in a mad house. Sometimes when things get too much to handle I have to remember times like these when my mad house turns into a fun house. The three of my fur babies with the swarm of me makes for one interesting evening.

Joan

Don’t start none, won’t be none - Grandpappy (c) 1975 

 

Stupid Spammers

This guy just sent me a spam comment on the journal for a controlled substance used for male enhancement. He ended the comment by saying, “you can trust me.”

Is he kidding? :-) Yeah, I trust drug dealers as much as I trust Bush to bring peace in Iraq. I trust drug dealers as much as I trust that China is going to impose sanctions properly on N. Korea. I trust them as much as I trust Big Oil to do right by the little man.

At least this guy was “only” trying to sell me drugs and not trying to get me to go to some Swedish-like hospital (that means some blond guy in the basement of a warehouse) for penile surgical enhancement. Spammers don’t check the gender of their victims. They’re just spaming at will.

I have to say, some are getting smarter. It’s hard to tell if someone is leaving a spam comment or not. I’ve had the same man try and send a spam comment on my journal. His auto generated spam links back to “controversial” images. It wasn’t like his name didn’t reveal to me his real intentions I mean come on dude! Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky….just not sneaky enough. You sent me the exact same spam comment twice, no differences at all. Then another one a day later as if I wouldn’t notice the same vulgar site link.

He clearly didn’t look at the subject of this journal or he may not have left his “controversial” name and matching site. I hope it was an oversight but one never knows. There are some stupid people out there and they all seem to flock to me!

Austin

Therapy Assignment: Questionnaire for Criterion F

Therapy Assignment: Questionnaire for Criterion F
I Can’t Get Over It by Aphrodite Matsakis, Ph.D.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006- 9:28PM EST
Feelings While Reading

Starting safety level – a bit overwhelmed, rocking, but still encouraged. 6 anxiety rate, 0 self injury, 0 suicidal ideations.
Ending safety level- about the same with a bit of depression, like maybe I’m wasting my time. I would classify that as discouragement. 8 anxiety rate, 0 self injury, 0 suicidal ideations.

___________________

Instructions are to review the number of PTSD symptoms I recorded in criterion A thru F then answer the following questions.

Criterion A: How many traumas have you experienced? 4 out of
Have you ever lived in a refugee or concentration camp or been tortured?
Were you ever sexually or physically assaulted, either by a stranger, a group of strangers, a family member, or anyone else?
As a child, were you physically maltreated with excessive beatings or spankings? Were a parent’s or caretakers disciplinary measures sadistic?
Have you ever been kidnaped, abducted, raped, burglarized, robbed or mugged?

Criterion B: Only one form of re-experiencing is necessary to meet the criteria for PTSD. In how many ways do you re-experience the trauma? How much is that in excess of the required number? I have 5 out of 7 from this section.

  • I have persistent and intrusive thoughts of the traumatic event. Even when I’m not trying to think about it I can’t get it out of my head.
  • I have nightmares.
  • I also have nightmares that are not about the abuse but include people and places involved in the abuse. When I wake up I feel just as empty and broken as I did back then. I try not to get in the fetal position because I know very well that never helps.
  • I find myself feeling like I’m back in that trauma. Sometimes I can actually feel my mother hitting me.
  • I become dissociative or, fearful or angry when I see or think I will see people from the past. These same things happen when I’m close to an area where something happened or when something reminds me of the past.

Criterion C: Two forms of re-experiencing is necessary to meet the criteria for PTSD. How any of the questions did you answer yes to? How much is that in excess of the required number? 4 out of 6

After surviving the mother there have been times I’ve felt emotionally dead or numb. There are times when I have to force myself to not be cold when tragic things happen in the lives of friends. I have to force myself to feel quite often. It seems that they just turn off and I have to work really hard to bring them up.

Have you tried not to talk about the event or avoided thoughts or feelings associated with it?
Yes. Humiliation is a nasty little bugger and that is what I feel when I think about the abuse or when I talk about the abuse.

I feel alienated and apart from others. I feel like a fake most of the time, like people see me one way but they have no idea that things are rough in my head. I make either a bad first impression or a bigger than life impression. Either way it’s not like I’m staying around long for fear they’ll find out that something about me just isn’t right. When I hear people talk about their family situations, if it’s good I can not relate. I feel nothing. I can’t even picture it. I do not feel a connection to happy people. I feel odd, noticeably unclean, much more so than others. Yeah, I’d say I feel alienated.

I have lost interest in things I use to love. This especially happens when flashbacks are stronger than usual. I went for so long without baking a loaf of bread. I went even longer without cooking a meal. My microwave and I got to know each other very well. I lose my appetite or I binge depending on if I want to punish myself or deprive myself. I brushed the dog because it needed to be done. I didn’t feel the same relaxed almost spiritual feeling as before. I worried he could tell the difference. I force myself to feel connected to him. When I can’t I stop because I don’t want to put cold hands on my dog.

Criterion D: Three hyperarousal symptoms are necessary to sonstitute PTSD. .. Yada, yada, yada, etc… Answer yes to experiences that occurred after the trauma.
I thought I only had 2 out of 5 until I read further and they explained what some of this means. So the accurate count is 4 out of 5.

  • Difficulty sleeping

Insomnia is a big issue with me as is putting off sleep so I don’t have to dream. I also seem to wake right up. My body almost jerks me awake as if I’ve let my guard down and I should be more careful, like a warning of some kind..wake up, you let your guard down stupid!.

  • Irritability or outbursts of anger

It feels like a wave that comes over me. I’m angry for no reason at all. I’ve thrown things from time to time and that really scared the crap out of me. I’m irritated with people for no reason at all. I sometimes have to keep myself from yelling at people. I dog them out on my journal then approach them calmly. If I didn’t use the journal that way I’d end up cutting people to pieces with my tongue. Sometimes it feels warranted but most times the anger isn’t equal to the offense.

  • Exaggerated startle response (jumping or otherwise overreacting to noises or the sudden appearance of a person).

It is always so embarrassing when this happens. It happens out in public but mostly at home. Once I’ve been startled I try and be conscious of it but it seems to just make matters worse. I’m even more jumpy than before.

  • Hypervigilance or overprotectiveness toward oneself and others.

I did not realize that sitting close to the door or not ever sitting with my back to the room was considered hypervigilance. I actually don’t sit close to the door. I’m the opposite. I sit away from it. If someone comes in the people in front of gettin’ it first. The assailant has people to go through before he/she gets to me. In that time I may be able to make my escape. It’s an odd reasoning but it doesn’t stop me from choosing a table in the back of the restaurant. Not so far that it’s clear I’m away from everyone but far enough to see everyone and feel safer. At home I don’t sit with my back to the room. My favorite chair is in a far corner. I can see into two different areas of the house from that seat including two entry ways.

  • How long have you been experiencing PTSD symptoms?

I don’t remember when they started.

Criterion F: In what ways have your PTSD symptoms or other reactions to the trauma affected your ability to work, relate to people, or to live your life?

This question will have to wait until tomorrow. This may be the very last question in this assignment but I’m done for the night. This is somehow the hardest question of all.

Austin

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Changing for the Better

Dreams and Issues Changing for the Better-Tuesday, October 17, 2006- 6PM EST

copyright 2006 @ S.G. all rights reservedA little girl in the dream had been punished for some minor infraction. The mother went overboard as usual but she didn’t beat her or anything like that. The little girl came to me to tell me what my mother had done. I went to my mother and asked her what happened. She told me and explained why she spanked the child. I asked the little girl to step away while I talked to the mother and she did. I told my mother that her punishment seemed a bit harsh for such a minor mistake. She disagreed. I said, you couldn’t have simply explained to her why she shouldn’t do that or maybe had her sit down for awhile or explain to you why she did what she did? The mother said no she thought she did right. I told her she went overboard and that it wasn’t right. At that point the little girl walked back up to me and the mother. The mother started telling the little girl that she did what she had to do to make her understand. I told the mother she was wrong and that her forms of punishment are wrong. The little girl and I walked away. There was never a voice raised. Never a hand lifted between the mother and myself. I simply told her she was wrong by challenging her methods and motives. It was quite a powerful dream.

Austin