Monthly Archive for August, 2007Page 2 of 5

Couey You’re A Dead Man

Published
by
Austin
on August 26, 2007
in PTSD and Soapbox
. 5 Comments

“This kind of thing happens every day,” John Couey said while being arrested for the rape and murder of Jessica Lunsford. This kind of thing happens everyday, that a child would be taken from her home, raped over the course of several days and then be buried alive.

I’m not going to make this a 3 or 4 part post. I certainly could. I’ll just say a few things and let it go at that.

I read that the pedophile John Couey didn’t say anything during his sentencing nor did he show emotion for this act however, he is recorded as one time saying that when he gets to heaven he’d like to apologize to Jessica for what he did to her. In my opinion, that comment alone is worthy of the death penalty. Somebody step up and shoot this man.

Since the law supports the death penalty for capital crimes the law will have filled it’s obligation once Couey is dead. But what about other obligations for serving justice? I’m upset by the many loopholes in laws written to protect children and adults from predators. For example, although Couey’s family knew about his pedophilia and his thirty year criminal history they did not report his whereabouts. They also were not required by law to report it to the police. Had they reported it, had they been required by law to report it they could have been held partially responsible for Jessica’s death. I’m not saying it would have stopped it but it would have at least kept blood off their hands. In my opinion not letting the police know Couey was in the area gave him unsupervised access to a number of victims. By them protecting their pedophile they allowed him to hunt and kill. They should be held accountable for that but the loophole in the law doesn’t provide that sort of justice.

Why does it take death to change laws? And why does it take re-writing those laws to close loopholes that let justice slip through? On the issue of Florida laws changing Jessica’s father Mark Lunsford said, “The problem is still growing. Children are still being molested. Sex offenders and predators are still being released,” Lunsford said. “Justice was served for this little girl, but what about the rest of them? What about the ones that survive? You can’t do anything to bring my daughter back, but you can do everything to save these other kids.”

What about the ones that survive? What about us? The ones that grew up watching other children become survivors? We’re caught here in the middle, as the laws do not change for us we struggle day in and day out, alive but not really living. Mark Lunsford said something I personally haven’t heard before from the mouth of a parent of a murdered child, “What about the one’s that survive?” Thank you for that acknowledgment. From the bottom of my heart, thank you because sometimes I think we are forgotten. Sometimes I think it is harder to deal with us as adults and feel sympathy for us than for child victims. We’re kind of out here in the middle, the left behind children of molestation if you will. But the more protection there is for children the fewer left behind adults there will be. I’d like to see us become a dying breed. I’d like to see us become an extinct civilization, one only read about in history books with a look of horror on the faces of modern man that anyone would have let it go this far for so long. Thank you for acknowledging the ones that survive.

As for John Couey, you’re a dead man as well you should be. Not only did he remark that he would apologize to Jessica once he got to heaven he also said something good came out of her death. The weasel said at least now the laws are stricter in Florida for sex offenders. He said this as if he’d done something worthwhile, something to help his community. See, had he not snatched this child from her family the laws wouldn’t have been changed. Give me a break and a chance at pushing the needle. They should lottery off his execution. Charge $5 per ticket. The winner gets to push in the needle. I have $5.00. For once I wish this were a country like the one where they executed Saddam Hussein. Thirty days and you’re outta here. Thirty days and they blotch your hanging while catching it on a cell phone cam. Cause you know, that sort of thing over there happens every day.

Jessica Lunsford links

CNN- a page full of links
Jessica didn’t suffer a great deal. Death likened to Kevorkian’s assisted suicide. (When viewing this article a sign in window will pop up. Hit the escape button several times in a row and it’ll disappear.)
Couey colors during the trial
You’re not retarded, just stupid. Couey tries to avoid death penalty by saying he’s retarded. 2002 laws changed making it unconstitutional to put to death someone who is mentally retarded.
Couey’s housemates Questions about DNA and how the case was handled.
Stop Child Predators , Jessica Marie Lunsford Foundation

**GPS Tracking for Sex Offenders**

Couey You’re A Dead Man-Sunday, August 26, 2007-1:02PM EST

Trust Issues and Fear

Published
by
Austin
on August 25, 2007
in Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Relationships and Therapy
. 4 Comments

There isn’t a person on the face of the earth I trust without question. There isn’t a person on the face of this earth that I feel so safe with that I’d turn around and be comfortable with them standing behind me. No matter how long I’ve known you or will know you, if you stand behind me I’ll move.

Months back when lying in bed talking and spooning I asked Blossom, “How can you stand for me to be behind you this way? You can’t see me.” She said, “Because I trust you.” She asked if I would be uncomfortable if she were behind me. I said, “Yes.” It kinda ruined the moment, it really did. She realized just how deep my trust issues are. Was it her I didn’t trust because it was her or because I’m me? It’s the latter. My lack of trust is pretty much blanket, all inclusive, there’s no one special person I trust less than others save my mother.

MacBlue asked if I feel safe with Barney. I told him, “I worry sometimes he’s going to come back there and try to hurt me but being stronger than he is makes that a bad decision for him.” He’s an uncoordinated old man who requires a daily nap. I’m a strong 36 year old woman. Do the math. But the fear is there. Again, it’s a blanket kind of fear, all inclusive; no one is feared above another save my mother.

When it comes to individuals my lack of trust is blanket but when it comes to trust and gender women get a double layer. For those whose main abuser was male I’m sure this fear and trust issue can be related to men in general. So when you read this, if you’re main abuser was male then insert the word man where you see woman and hopefully this won’t be so offensive. When it comes to even my closest female friends I find myself holding back in fear. I find myself questioning their motives and actions. My trust issues with women are strong and there is nothing they can say to me that would make me believe they’re safe. For many women I fear them on a paranoid level. Like they have some sort of connection to my mother and they’re reporting back to her. Before you go off thinking I’ve slipped into paranoid Schizophrenia let me tell you why this thought occurs to me from time to time.

It was not uncommon to hear my mother tell me, “Everything is naked and openly exposed.” She said she had people following me and my sister so she could know what we do all the time. She said she knew what I was thinking and that everything belonged to her. But the thing that stood out the most was “Everything is naked and openly exposed.” (Hebrews 4:13). Since I saw my mother as a god figure I believed her when she quoted that scripture. She misquoted it as she attributed this ability to herself but still, its scripture and I believed it. I believed she had people following me. I believed she knew my every thought. Heck, I learned other languages so I could have my own private thoughts in those languages so she wouldn’t know what I was saying. Through repetition “Everything is naked and openly exposed” has stuck with me. So sometimes I wonder, does so-and-so know my mother? That fear is less by the day because I’m able to reason it away. Being out of her company has helped beat that belief into the dirt where it belongs. Although she set herself up as God she certainly is not one.

This brings me to trust and faith. On Marcy’s blog she was interviewed by Enola concerning why she believes in God and what lead to that faith. One answer Marcy gave is “The things that appealed to me were unconditional, constant, all-knowing and understanding love, trustworthiness, faithfulness, solid ground.” This sentence brought my comment below:

I think I like your answer to question number one quite a bit. There is individuality in Christianity but also connection. I really like the way you put that. A long time ago I was ready a scripture that said something to the effect of, “we have trust that Jesus Christ…..” I stopped and said, “WE trust?” I actually said aloud, “WE trust?” That’s when I realized my trust issues went deeper than mere humans. However, last week when that whole mouse fiasco took place I actually prayed Marcy. I actually prayed. I was doubled over in tears. I could feel myself loosing it big time and so I prayed. And it’s been a very long time since his name has come off my lips that way. It felt good. I miss it. I really do. A calm came over me. I got some peace, enough to not harm myself that night. Later in therapy MacBlue asked me what I did to get my head together. I told him I prayed. He asked what I prayed for. I said for the flashbacks to stop. He said, “Have they?” I said “No.” But you know what? It doesn’t mean they won’t. I got part of what I needed. I needed peace at that moment and I got that. I trust, and I do mean trust, that when I need to call out in prayer I can. It took a very long time to be able to read the scripture that says “we trust” and not flinch.

Thank goodness God isn’t female or I’d be right back as square one. What I’ve come to trust about him is that he doesn’t change. He’s the same as he was yesterday and a thousand million years before. He’s not going to be in a mood and wipe me off the earth or punish me for this or that unjustly because he can. He’s fair. He’s kind. But the biggest thing for me that makes him trustworthy is that he doesn’t change. I knew nothing about consistencies growing up with a psychopath given to borderline fits of rage and borderline inconsistencies. I never knew what she’d do next. Will she be kind today? Will she be sadistic, will be eat, will we stay in our apartment or move to the car, will she kill me today or will we go see a movie. Everything was up in the air, nothing rock solid, always changing with no rhyme or reason. One of the many things I respect about God is his reasoning and his consistency. Because of this I trust him.

 

Austin

Trust Issues and Fear
Saturday, August 25, 2007-11:00AM EST

Because You Wanted To Know

Published
by
Austin
on August 23, 2007
in General Chatter and Humor
. 3 Comments

These people were searching for something. I’m not sure if they found it so I thought I’d give some helpful answers and put them in the know.

Mental disorders, sesame street
Yes, Sesame Street is full of nuts. I’ve always thought Gonzo had issues. And you know that little red fluffy guy’s a whack job. Nobody talks with that high of a voice and giggles all the time without having some sort of real mental problem.

My cat walks on me, why?
Because she’s rude.

Is my mother a sociopath?
Yes, yes she is and so is mine. Perhaps they are long lost sisters.

I am the man of your dreams
Clearly you have not been paying attention to the recent entries on this blog sir.

Loser girls borderline personality disorder
Loser? Oh no you didn’t. Let me tell you about losers you no good low down so-and-so. You short little louse. Don’t let me find your IP address. I’ll have to go loco on your stupid ass. People like you are the reason I’m on medication.

Horrible things to the black race.
OJ Simpson, Mike Tyson and Flavor Flave. Flavor Flave has set back progress a good 50 years. Damn you Flavor Flave, damn you! Michael Jackson doesn’t count cause he’s not black anymore but if he were black he’d be on the top of the list of horrible things that have happened to black people.

How to date black women
What? Is there a manual? My goodness. I knew there was a book called “Black Like Me” but I’m unaware of a “how to date black women” manual. If you find one please do let me know how to get a copy. Not that I could date a black woman….I have issues ya know, but that’s neither here nor there.

search

I hope this information was helpful to you. Please do return often and I’ll try to answer your questions with as much inaccuracy as possible.

Thanks for stopping by,
Austin of Sundrip Journals

Because You Wanted To Know
Thursday, August 23, 2007-5:12AM EST

Therapy Stuff- Safety Measures

Published
by
Austin
on August 23, 2007
in Borderline Personality Disorder, General Chatter, PTSD, Pets, Poetry and Therapy
. 1 Comment

Therapy again tomorrow, oh the joy! Actually, MacBlue was very helpful Tuesday. I was impressed with our session.

I got to talk to a friend today on the phone and kind of unload on her. I always enjoy talking to her. I feel motivated after our conversations. She seems to think I give more than I get but it’s not true. After talking to her I did exactly what I said I was going to do, wash the dog. I have to take him with me tomorrow so he can’t be funky. Nobody likes a funky dog, especially a large funky dog. So that I don’t go escaping out of the cab again I’ll have him attached to my pants. There’s a hook on his harness that I attach a clip to and then clip it to my belt loop. This way I can’t wonder off. He won’t let me. It’s important that he go with me for the next few sessions until I can get myself back to my normal jacked up state of mind. Wednesday’s are usually grooming days around here anyway so everyone got their nails clipped, everyone was brushed and Cap got washed and had his teeth brushed. He even got the royal treatment of aloe vera to soften his coat and keep his skin healthy.

I did some artwork and wrote a poem for it. Now I’m going to bed. I’m not sure when the last time was that I made it to bed before 5am. It won’t be tonight/today.

This is the art piece that goes with the poem.

The Essence of Me


I wish to rise from ruins.
Gather broken pieces,
Shards and shreds long cast off as useless
And create one form worth standing for.
I will rise from rubble
For one great stand
One grand shine.

In my true essence
I wish to rise unscathed by imagery and voices
That encourage the lying down of hope.

Austin

Therapy Stuff- Safety Measures
Thursday, August 23, 2007-4:35AM EST

A Time To Grieve

Published
by
Austin
on August 21, 2007
in Art, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Relationships and Therapy
. 5 Comments

Weeks ago she whispered “I wish we’d never even tried.” Then she corrected herself saying had we not there would be no good memories to hold onto. Little did I know Love felt compelled to date me because I told her I’d been in love with her for so long. I wish she could read the entry of a friend who just the other day noted how she doesn’t feel compelled to date a man just because he shows interest. In other words, just because there are fish in the sea it doesn’t mean you have to throw in a line. My friend knows just because she has options doesn’t mean she has to make a choice. She can choose to not choose.

As always I left a smart-alec remark on her blog and in good fun she gave a quality retort promising to do whatever it took to make me happy. I thought it was funny but I know someone who has said almost the exact same words. While some would never promise unwavering dedication their actions speak those words verbatim. This is part of what ate at my respect for Love, her total disregard for self. This brings me to today’s therapy session and the subject of my entry, grief. According to Love her decision to date me was based on me showing her attention and that adds to my sadness concerning our break up. Did she ever love me for me or was she with me out of compulsion? Did she love me at all or just the idea of being in love? Was it compulsion? Was there a time she was with me because she wanted to be with ME?

Tiny Bowl Big Fish

I may be proud of her my friend for understanding this part of her life but I’m pissed as hell at Love. MacBlue said perhaps I should set aside a few days to grieve her loss. That discussion led to a striking discovery. He asked me, “Do you feel out of control when you’re sad?” (cue crickets) Control sadness? (more crickets) I can control my anger. I have outlets for it. I work hard to make sure I don’t go around punching people out, going postal as it were. I know I control anger in such a way that others won’t be hurt by it. But sadness, no, I don’t control that. I get lost in it. It’s a huge pit that promises an end but fails to deliver. In happiness I’m confused. I don’t trust it nor do I know the rules but anger and fear, I know them well. I’m nearly comfortable with them. But with sadness and joy I’m like a fish out of water.

My therapist believes the reason my little one cries is because she was the one who loved our lover the most. I said “No, she’s only three years old.” He said “Maybe she loved her like an aunt.” I thought, “Or like a mother.” Then a flash of faces came forward, faces of people I had this type of transference connection with and it all made sense to me. I know who the little one is and I know why she cries.

MacBlue wonders if she is the one whose job it is to express so deeply what others of us run from. This job of grief doesn’t belong to a three year old. We don’t do that to our Pride members; leave them to handle a job too big for them. Our system of hierarchy is set up to make sure each member has a job they can handle. The higher up the chain the more responsibility the Pride member has. This helps ease burdens and allows successes while minimizing feelings of failure. This level of sadness should not belong to a three year old. MacBlue’s suggestion to help this little one is to take a few days to grieve and feel our overwhelming sadness. I’m to draw it, blog it, think on it, and touch it without running. Gracious sakes alive, staying angry seems easier.

Joan of Arc for Morton’s Pride

A Time To Grieve
Tuesday, August 21, 2007-4:32PM EST

I Long For The Day

Published
by
JoanofArc
on August 21, 2007
in Abuse, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Poetry, Soapbox and Therapy
. 4 Comments

There was a time, not so long ago when I could hit my wife and no one called me a brute.
I could blacken the eyes of my youngest son and no one said it was abuse
This world moves about in an arrogant wagon collecting this boy, that girl,
Instructing tolerance, teaching patience
But I shall not conform.

I long for the day when it was quite right to hate you because you’re Irish, German, Spanish, a Jew.
I long for the day when I didn’t have to explain
Why I won’t hire you, house you or sell you my goods.
He’s Lebanese, he’s African, he’s White, it was enough,
Back then it was enough.
I could slap a queer and my buddies would buy a round,
Beat up a bum in exchange for a pat on the back,
Roust boys from the other side of the tracks and lead others down my path of unbridled wrath.
Such noble days are a thing of the past.

I yearn for the years when mothers commonly looked the other way as her daughter’s innocence was stolen.
I ache for the easy times when all I had to do was teach her to cook and be a wife
How to accept drunken revelries and anger driven nights.
But now, now she has to discover her way,
Explore womanhood in a world of free thought.
She’ll be lost to me and no amount of baked goods will turn her head back
To when gender roles where clear cut
And behavior was controlled by irrational thoughts.
No one stepped outside the box.
I long for those days.

Strength has been replaced by psychobabble based on delusions
Sicknesses scribbled on scrap paper by a man made famous by his addictions.
Untie your boot straps.
Air your dirty laundry all to your family’s shame.
Oh times how they have changed.

I use to hit you and answer to no one
Turn my back and ignore evil
Teach boys to be boys
And hear maybe yes when you said no.
For those days I long
But my heart clings to what does not sway.
Through war, through peace, generations lost,
Foundations torn and laid
Still we celebrate the marriage between victim and blame.

Writing Title:I long for the day-Wednesday, August 15, 2007-8:39PM EST

I’ve been thinking about these things. I’ll admit, I wrote these lines 6 days ago with a very discouraged pen. I can’t say it’s my best writing but I will say it puts together all the so called progress the world has made while leaving one major stone virtually unturned. Strange is how not only will the everyday person make excuses for a perp but everyday a victim will too. That stone is the hardest one of all to turn, to crush to powder and blow away with the primal scream of righteous indignation.

For Blog Carnival Against Abuse
There use to be a time when it was okay that you hit me, that you hurt me. No one called you an abuser, but times have changed. There use to be and still is a the belief that the victim is somehow at fault. Those times need to change.

Joan of Arc for Morton’s Pride
Tuesday, August 21, 2007-6:22AM EST

Stop It And Stop It Now

Published
by
Austin
on August 21, 2007
in General Chatter and Soapbox
. 1 Comment

Dear PostWorthy I’ve seen your site pop up on my stats page several days in a row. This concerns me because I fear you may be like the blog PressPost who misuses feeds for an unknown gain. I’m not legally able to say you’re a spam blog because you give scraps with links and not nearly as much as say…..PressPost did/does. I’m still bothered it though. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my entries alone and snip somewheres else. What? Do you think I write this stuff so others can snatch it up and put a snippet of info on their blog or God forbid all but two lines of it then categorize it with lame tags like, “I say funny”, “cars, cars, cars” and “eXtreme sports”? Please, for the love of all that is blogger-holy stop snatching my shit!

Yours truly,

The Pissed off Blogger called Austin

Aussie Facts

Published
by
Austin
on August 20, 2007
in General Chatter and Humor
. 3 Comments
  1. I can’t drink anything without a straw. If I open a can of Pepsi (Coke is evil) I put a straw in it. I have to have a straw.
  2. It’s been about 7 or 8 years now since the introduction of chocolate in my diet. I use to hate chocolate. I was sick back then.
  3. I often turn phrases around. Instead of saying “happy camper” I’ll say “camper of happiness.” I’m just odd that way.
  4. I never gave a person a nickname until I started blogging.
  5. I think about the Bible every single day. I have a small collection of them. The oldest is dated 1891.
  6. I dream about moving back to Tyler but with the mental health system there it’s not a good move. I dream about visiting but I really just want to remember it exactly how I left it.
  7. I now house the most animals I’ve ever had at one time, one dog, two cats and a loaner cat. I believe they own me, not the other way around.
  8. I try not to leave home without my camera. I recently discovered two yards with sunflower gardens within walking distance of my house. I’ve promised myself on a day when the weather is healthy for me I’ll go snap shots of them.
  9. Last week before therapy two kids decided I was their patient. I got a check up. One took my blood pressure while the other looked in my eye with a Fisher Price scope. The lady doctor gave me a pill (a Lego) and told me I’d be fine. This is the first time I’ve been medically cleared by 2 four year olds.
  10. What’s on my iPod? Ari Heist, Linkin Park, James Blunt and John Mayer. Also on the iPod are Anita Baker, Pink, Damien Rice and Paolo Nutini .

Here’s a video of the very emotional performance by James Blunt called No Bravery ….The song is about the time he spent in the military. These clips are actually from things he’s seen so the emotion on his face makes the words even more powerful. Not all of his songs are this emotional or I couldn’t handle it but this one is still a favorite. For a survivor this song could mean so many things…You need to be in a decent space if you click this video.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNMJX6i8QVU]

This is Paolo singing Last Request. He cries too but for a totally different reason, he’s just emotional when he sings.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0zmZfoXZbE]

One tear streams down his face and I grab my shirt and do the chick at a concert scream. It’s sad. I’m so happy no one can see me do that groupie hands to the head scream. I don’t hold up a lighter though. I’m not that bad…yet. For the unfortunate people that don’t know who Paolo Nutini is he’s a Scottish kid with an Italian name who sings his heart out. Love the guy. However, James Blunt is higher up on the food chain. When you watch the video you’ll understand why and you’ll understand the very emotional way he sings this song.

I’m off line for the day (Monday) so this bread crumb entry will have to do. I shall talk to everyone later.

Austin

An STD and My Husband Black Jack

Published
by
Austin
on August 19, 2007
in General Chatter and Humor
. 2 Comments

Some of my alters hear quite well but the main ones don’t which means when the TV is on we have to use closed captions. Sometimes on commercials CC’s are messed up and we miss part of it. I wish Channel 8 had good CC’s. If they didn’t I wouldn’t have been forced to look up what I thought I heard. “Side effects may include increased gambling.” What? No, I didn’t hear that correctly. I jumped on Google to make sure I heard this wrong. I expected to find nothing. I figured I just heard it wrong. Heck, one time a lady at the doctor’s office asked me if I wanted to adopt a parrot. I told her no. She said, “But they’re such nice pets, come see it.” I followed her next door to the vet’s office where she showed me a ferret. No closed captions. My bad! After many misheard experiences such as this I’ve learned to ask, “Did you just say….?” Usually I’m wrong. I hoped to be today so I hit up my trusty friend Google concerning the treatment of Restless Leg Syndrome with the FDA approved medication Requip.

Before I go on you must know this is not an entry saying do or do not take this med or to give any medical advice at all. It’s about closed captions and not hearing things correctly. I’ve also added my twisted sense of humor to this. So, if you’re looking for medical advice, this isn’t the blog or the blog entry for you. Please see a real doctor and not one who plays one on the web. With that said, I looked up only a few sources but the two I’ll quote are from Wikipedia and Requip themselves.

On the subject of RLS treatment Wikipedia says: “There are some issues with the use of dopamine augmentation. Dopamine agonists may cause augmentation. This is a medical condition where the drug itself causes symptoms to increase in severity and/or occur earlier in the day. Dopamine agonists may also cause rebound, when symptoms increase as the drug wears off. Also, a recent study indicated that dopamine agonists used in restless leg patients can lead to an increase in compulsive gambling.[17]

Well, I may now have a better understanding of what causes this symptom but I can’t say I feel better about it. The medication commercials with working CC’s tell me I’ll be just fine and that my doctor will assure me of it. I mean ya know, if I don’t have failing kidneys or go anywhere near anyone with advanced liver disease, diabetes, heart disease, cataracts, hemorrhoids or acid reflux I”ll be fine. And if I don’t plan to ever get a fever, the hiccups, have cold chills or come in contact with anyone inflicted with these maladies I should be okay. So, now that I understand I can never, ever get sick or come in contact with anyone that might get sick what are my medication options? Why, lets try Requip.

Requip is a popular medication used to treat RLS and it was their commercial I was watching so naturally I’d go to their site. This is a copy paste from their site:

Important Safety Information:

Prescription Requip is not for everyone. Requip Tablets may cause you to fall asleep or feel very sleepy during normal activities such as driving; or to faint or feel dizzy, nauseated, or sweaty when you stand up. Tell your doctor if you experience these problems or if you drink alcohol or are taking other medicines that make you drowsy. Also tell your doctor if you experience new or increased gambling, sexual, or other intense urges while taking Requip. Side effects include nausea, drowsiness, vomiting, and dizziness. Most patients were not bothered enough to stop taking Requip.

For More Safety Information about Requip, click here.

See complete Prescribing Information for Requip.

Oh-ma Lord, I heard correctly. IF Requip works for me I can feel better about my RLS but I could also lose my home and contract a number of STD’s in the process. I like the way they say most people weren’t bothered enough to stop taking the medication. I believe some of their data is questionable. Can they prove that there was no “hooking up” between two or more trial patients with hyper-sexuality side effects? How do we know these hyper-pervs said they weren’t bothered by the side effects because life had been so dull before… but now, oh now, they have a new lease. It’s a shorter lease because of the STD’s contracted, but it’s a new, more “active lease.” I believe we were mislead when they said trial participants were satisfied and not bothered enough by the side effects to stop taking Requip. And what of the compulsive gambler? For those who got involved in compulsive gambling and lost everything, their vote doesn’t count. How do we know they didn’t lose their vote in some back room poker game and the winner voted all his winnings in favor of the drug? There really is no way to determine if people were so bothered by these side effects because the side effects of the side effects can alter the vote. I want a total recall of this medication so more accurate data can be gathered. I bet they won’t do it. I bet ya five bucks they won’t do it.

Missing:

My husband Jack was last seen around Atlantic City with a dish water blond in stiletto heals. If you see him tell him our house was taken, the car was repossessed and I hocked the dog. Tell him I’m still on the meds and my “other” doctor said “It’s not just yeast.”

Entry Title: An STD and My Husband Black Jack
Entry Date: Sunday, August 19, 2007-10:10PM EST

Openly Exposed

Published
by
Austin
on August 18, 2007
in Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Relationships and Therapy
. 2 Comments

If I need to be called out the person forward lights a cigarette. It may take a few minutes but I’ll be there. If Destiny needs to be summoned just talk about certain “issues” and she’ll arrive shortly. It only takes the sight of a sunflower to bring out A.G and her twin sister A.P. The colour red will get you a different alter and the colour green will get you yet another alter. We switch all the time and fortunately for us the only noticeable difference for everyone but A.P. is speech patterns. It is usually difficult to tell the difference between me and Destiny if you’re standing in front of us. This was my theory BEFORE I was corrected. Evidently it’s a little easier to tell the difference between us anymore. I know what brings each of us out but I sure wasn’t aware that the changes were so obvious until the new therapist noted he’s aware of our switches in sessions. I thought I had all that under wraps. I thought I had all that under control, well hidden. The thought, I know me but you don’t was such a comfort. Knowing my DID is a bit more obvious to others is somewhat un-nerving. MacBlue isn’t uncomfortable with the switches he’s just aware of it. But that means I’m less hidden. To me, that means the one world I know best and thought was hidden is now less hidden and exposed.

Continue reading ‘Openly Exposed’