Monthly Archive for June, 2007

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Dream Therapy: Holding My Sister

Published on June 12, 2007 in Dream Therapy, Dreams, Mental Health, PTSD, Therapy and Therapy Assignments. 2 Comments


Same house from my sophomore year in high school, the one I talked about in therapy Thursday. I had a shopping cart that I dragged around with me picking up necessities from this and that store, crossing the parking lot to this store searching for those damn red high top tennis shoes. I’m in a Quickie Mart looking for breakfast. I want eggs but I settle for a cake donut and a coke. Who ever it is that has suddenly appeared by my side is impatient and wants to leave. We have a bus to catch. We were going to go to Kroger’s grocery store but we had a bus to catch. In the dream it was a school but instead of a city bus. On the bus a woman is showing off her magic “skills.” She does stuff that defies reason and the onlookers are mystified. I don’t look. I know how she’s doing it. The lady half curled up next to me agrees the woman has “assistance” from spirits. Neither one of us take part in the ooh ah’s. Next scene we’re sitting on a soft watching TV. There’s a man in the distance but I can’t see his face. I assume it’s my uncle. He’s in the shadows watching TV sipping a high ball. I don’t feel afraid but the girl in my arms I realize is nearly folded in half. I’m holding an adult like she’s a toddler. I’m holding her in my arms, her body half the size but her head is full size like an adult. I kissed her cheek with my three kisses in a row friendly style thing and realize her make up is dripping down her face. The base is streaked with sweat as it rolls down the side of her face making her feel clammy on my lips. That’s when I realize it’s my sister I’m holding. I rolled over and woke up.

Profile in the dream: Adult current age, healthy, I looked like myself
Old recurrent dream theme: the mall parking lot, night time, the Quickie Mart
New recurrent dream theme: searching for red high tops
Feelings upon waking: Sick of these nightmares. Physically tired cause I’m not sleeping much. Anxious because I haven’t stopped seeing last nights dreams yet.
Feelings now: numb

Revised Dream:

Re-written by No One-Monday, June 11, 2007-1:14PM EST

I grab an egg McMuffin and coffee Quickie Mart and head out to the city bus to go home. The sun is up, I’ve got a full day ahead of me. Captain is probably at the door waiting for me to return. We’ve got a date to play ball in the yard. I don’t want to be late. I sit alone on the bus, not directly in front by the driver nor way in the back by the emergency door, but slightly closer to the front from the middle. As I eat my sandwich a woman shows other passengers card tricks. I join the group watching her flip cards around and snatch coins from behind their ears. My stop is next. At home I unlock the door and there’s Captain, leash in his mouth, ball at his side. We first go to the golf course to sit by the big tree at the South end of the course. I look forward to sitting there on hot days, sitting watching him watch squirrels, watching the occasional car drive by, and watching bad golfers curse because they didn’t get their shot just right. The noon hour arrives quickly and its lunch time so Captain and I skip ball to go home and eat. Later in the day when the sun isn’t so hot we’ll return to our comfy spot to toss around an old pig skin ball scuffed and marked by man’s best friend.

Feelings now: Tired. I feel rather beaten down emotionally. It was a very long week end.
Safety status:There’s a cutting threat, I’d say low. It has more to do with an accumulation of events than this dream. Our last session has been on my mind, the event before and the discussion during therapy was quite heavy.
Safety plan: Curtains are open to let the light in, going to the golf course after coffee and an egg sandwich

Update:

Monday, June 11, 2007-11:42PM EST

Cap and I took that walk. I ate an egg sandwich for lunch but skipped the coffee. It’s been an anxiety filled day but I did get a few things accomplished. I ate a good dinner (pork chops, dressing, baby carrots and green beans w/ garlic bread). I didn’t cut. I still feel somewhat sad but at least I accomplished my goals for the day.

Joan

Frustration and Aggression

Published on June 11, 2007 in Borderline Personality Disorder, Mental Health, Relationships and Soapbox. 3 Comments

The puppy I fostered went back to the shelter. I only had him a week and the boy grew like a weed. He’s a sweetheart. Blossom said she wanted me to keep him. I told her I couldn’t. She wanted to assist with paying for his needs. I told her no. She kept picking at my clothing trying to make it perfect. If my collar wasn’t just so she was up with her hands out walking towards me. I set the clock on my microwave and she was up behind me trying to make sure I did it right cause we all know I’m not smart enough to do anything on my own. So there she stood in the background whispering to me telling me which buttons to push until finally I did something I haven’t done in the 7 years I’ve known her. I yelled at her. I actually raised my voice to her. That took us both by surprise. Yesterday it happened again, I yelled at her. It surprised us both. I may go off on my blog but I don’t go off on her in real life. I don’t name-call or get sarcastic/passive aggressive with her in real life. I do it on the blog so I don’t do it in real life. And I certainly didn’t get outright aggressive with her until this week end. I can’t believe I yelled at her like that. Can one count aggression as saying angrily, “Will you stop it?!” when the person is standing over your shoulder whispering, “Push the start button, push the start button.” It just hit me wrong and seemed like the last straw. Don’t fix my collar. I’m a grown woman I think I can fix my own damn collar. I don’t need a misplaced hair but back in place. Next thing ya know she’ll put spit on a hanky and wipe a smudge of chocolate off my cheek. Lord!

In the car when I raised my voice it was because again she was talking over my head. It’s annoying when she does that. She said as she went to the check out to buy cough medicine without decongestant that she to get the purchase approved by a manager. The law is that you can only buy so much at a time because people use it to make meth so a manager had to come and approve her large quantity sale. She was upset because what she had didn’t have decongestant in it. Now, that’s the understandable version of the story. What she said was, “I tried to explain to the lady that there’s no Phenylpropanolamine hydrochloride in this.” So out of my mouth snaps, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Silence. Silence, more silence. She said, “There’s no decongestant in this.” Well why the hell didn’t she just say that in the first damn place. Did she really need to go into the pharmaceutical terms for decongestant? How many people actually know the active ingredient for stuff like Claratin D is Phenylpropanolamine hydrochloride? I mean for real, can’t she just say Claratin D and skip the rest? I had to Google that term by the way. It’s just annoying to try and talk to that girl when she says stuff like that. It might not be if she didn’t nit pick too but “small” stuff grows into large when you’re already irritated by her.

So the other day we’re in Wally-World leaving. I’m in a wheelchair rolling my tired body outside when a cashier told me that I couldn’t take the wheelchair outside. Blossom pops up with, “She has Lupus and she needs new knees.” For someone who won’t take care of herself you sure can care take, I told her. The cashier started in about how her mom has Lupus and how she had both her knees done at the same time. Don’t you know Blossom chimed in with how the surgeon refused to do my surgery because of my Lupus and then added the part about my heart filter? WTF? Is there anymore of my medical history you want to tell the woman. Hell, I think you forgot to tell her about my colon being snipped and about my tooth that needs to be filled. Oh, tell her about when I had pneumonia and about the hang nail I had last year. She has no boundaries, none! Not for herself or for others. The girl is a true borderline personality disorder case through and through. I should have asked her, “Don’t you have some sort of dioctyl sodium sulfosuccinate, acetylsalicylic acid or an OTC supplement you want to buy that’s sure to interact with the medications your doctor is actually aware that you take? But I didn’t because I didn’t have Google to redirect me to Wiki for the pharmaceutical terms for colace and aspirin. Seeing this chick once a week is still way too much.

J of A

Frustration and Aggression-Monday, June 11, 2007-11:49AM EST

At Least I’m Not Paris

Published on June 8, 2007 in Humor and Stupid People. 7 Comments

You know you’re truly stuck up and stupid or shall we say stuck on stupid when you pose like this for your mug shot.

Paris Hilton Bimbo Mug Shots

As bad as life can get I say with gratitude, “At least I’m not Paris Hilton.”

I have multiple personality disorder. I have PTSD and a horrible family but I’M NOT PARIS. I think I might be okay. I’m dead broke all the time. I have no car to drive while intoxicated, but I think I’m okay. If I drove drunk I’d rot in jail and nobody would care if I cried all day. Even still I say with pride, I’M NOT PARIS.

If I ever go to jail and get a mug shot I promise the world I’ll do it right. Just like this guy here I’d fix my hair and wear my best Hawaii 5-0 shirt.

At least I'm not Paris

All this puts life in perspective doesn’t it? When the going gets rough just say, “I could be Paris.” Take a deep breath and keep on keeping on. And if you ever find yourself about to go to jail please don’t pose like you’re gracing the cover of Hustler Magazine. The street walker look doesn’t work for everybody. Nick Nolte, however, seems to be able to pull off the homeless man look quite nicely but James Brown doesn’t look like he feels so good.

Photos above from TheSmokingGun.com except of course the smart ass one where he’s happy he’s not Paris, that’s from me.

J of A

Looking Over My Shoulder

Published on June 7, 2007 in Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD and Therapy. 6 Comments

He asked me if I think I’ll run into my ex-husband someday. Despite the fact that he doesn’t live in my city do I think I see him around town from time to time? I see people that remind me of him and I take a second look the same as when I think I see my uncle who died several years back. If I catch a glimpse of a tall black woman with long black hair my first thought is, “is that my mother?” The answer is yes, I think I see my ex-husband but I don’t worry about him recognizing me. He wouldn’t recognize me if I stood directly in his path. I’d know that man anywhere though.

I was fine when I went to therapy today. I talked to my cab driver about everyday things. We laughed and exchanged updates in our lives as if we hadn’t seen each other in years. I just saw the man Tuesday. I got out of the cab and talked to the secretaries like a regular Joe, everything was okay. I went outside for a smoke and a car pulled up with two little boys a little girl and an adult woman. The smallest boy waved to me twice before getting out of the car. I waved back and kept smoking. He was a sweet little thing. The woman got out and helped the toddler out as well as the oldest boy. They passed me while my back was turned to them. I went inside to sit down because even though I was already triggered I was still intrigued by the foursome. The woman was of regular height, slightly over weight, middle aged and African-American with three young children, all Caucasian. I didn’t see my mother in this woman at all, which I also found interesting. The little guy that waved to me sat the closest to me and his older brother told him to come back and stop talking to me. The woman said, “Let that boy alone. You know he’s a talker.” I just smiled. She was holding a little curly headed girl in her arms but sat her in a stroller to speak to the receptionist. A little child alter wanted to ask the youngest boy if he wanted to draw with him but we didn’t let him. The youngest boy moved closer to me but his brother said nothing. He watched him like a hawk though.

It was difficult to doodle and watch the foursome so I pulled out my book and pretended to read. She was so gentle with the children, patient, funny. I watched her hands touch the little girls face and thought about how dark her skin was next to the child’s. I wanted to take pictures so badly I couldn’t stand it. But I didn’t pull out the cam and start taking shots. I sat pretending to read my book, watching, sadly.

The guardian gave the little girl a bottle of milk but she tossed it on the floor. She picked it back up. The little girl tossed it again. The guardian smiled at her and put her hand gently against the little girls face and said, “You don’t want this do you?” That’s when sadness turned into grief and when I no longer pretended to read the book. I looked up at the little girl who had a large, dark hand touching the side of her face gently. She held her face carefully with love. I could feel the tears coming up. The little girl said, “Ba-ba”. The guardian said, “Ba-ba” and handed it to her.

For me, it doesn’t make a difference if I run into my mother on the street or my ex-husband. All I have to do is see someone loved and their faces comes right back to me. They’re sitting right next to me offering no warm hand or comfort. I don’t have to run into them to still see them and remember. I don’t have to look over my shoulder because they’re right in my face day after day.

I have to try and take a nap then finish up this day. It’s chilly but beautiful and I’d like to take Cap for a walk.

 

I had no idea the song From The Inside by Linkin Park was about childhood abuse. Sheshh!  The last thing I need to do is listen to this stuff today. I can hardly keep my head up as it is.

Austin

Looking Over My Shoulder
Thursday, June 07, 2007-4:46PM EST

Welcome To Success In 2007

Published on June 6, 2007 in Gratitude Journal. 1 Comment

congratulations young man

Welcome to success in 2007

Congratulations to a special young man who is now the first male in his family to graduate from high school since 1979. You have made a difference and have begun a course you can be proud of.

Austin

(posted with permission)

Faces of Guilt

Published on June 6, 2007 in Humor and Pets. 2 Comments Tags: .

Face of Guilt

This shot was taken just before he was booked and paw printed. “I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me“ won’t fly this time. You were caught red pawed. Stop giving me the sad puppy eyes it won’t work. You’ve been busted! Cute or not you’ve been busted.

I watched Captain and Max playing outside. I thought they were tossing around a stick but closer observation revealed it to be a dead mouse. Never until today did I ever feel sorry for a mouse. I had to hide evidence of the rodent murder so I began kicking the carcass across the hard hoping to kick it hard enough that it would fly over the fence and into someone else’s yard becoming someone else’s problem. That’s right. I said it….somebody else’s problem. It seems I can’t really kick and scream at the same time so his little dead body lay face up right in the path of my front door. It seems they didn’t want to play with him anymore after I kicked him around. Maybe they don’t like to have their murder victims kicked around. Who knows. To my rescue came my roommate Barney Fife who was handed a baggy and forced asked to dispose of said evidence. He’s now in on this crime so I’m sure he won’t go to the cops. Never have I said, “Poor little mouse” until I saw the tug of war and toss up game between one very young criminal puppy Maxwell House and his aged accomplice Captain Crunch.

Partners In Crime

What should one do after an afternoon of murder and mayhem? Rest. To see what else little Maxwell House is guilty of click the slide show link.

Austin

Move Out of The Cab- Get An Apartment

Published on June 6, 2007 in For the Record, Humor and Stupid People. 1 Comment

This week is full of doctor appointments which means it’s also full of cab rides. More doctors, more taxi rides, more reasons to wear my seat belt with idiots driving to and fro. I mean to tell you people scare me sometimes. I guess the Acme School of Driving hands out licenses left and right. Can a person pop in a nickel and instead of a gum drop they get a drivers license? I worry, I tell ya I worry. Anyway, I got a call from my doctor’s office telling me there’s an opening in the sports medicine clinic tomorrow and if I can show up I could see the surgeon there as well as get an MRI on my neck. While I appreciate such prompt action I can’t go to the doctor every day. I went yesterday. I went to see Dr. T (the therapist) today. I can’t do two appointments tomorrow then go back to therapy on Thursday. I have to sit down sometime. So, I’m skipping the MRI but going to see the sports medicine doctor. Going to the doctor everyday of the week is a bit much. That’s also too many cab rides, too much exposure to idiots that don’t know how to drive. I’ve never been tossed around so much in the back of a cab as I was in the last two days. The inner conversation went something like this:

Me #1- I’m getting out. At the next light I’m getting out of this cab.
Me #2- We can’t just get out of the cab. We’ll be stranded. Stranded is worse than being tossed about in the cab.
Me #1- No it’s not. I’m getting out.
Me #2- Somebody tell her we can’t leave the cab. Somebody talk to this woman!
Me #3- We aren’t getting out of the cab. Nobody’s getting out of the cab.
Me #2- Good gracious!
Me #3- JOAN DO NOT TOUCH THE F-ING DOOR

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