Dr. D asked me how I feel about him going on vacation. I told him his vacation is my vacation. I wonder if he thought I was going to freak out or something. Uh, no…you go on vacation and I consider it my time to chill too. Sheshh…I may not even shower. I’m kidding. Sooooo, I have a full week off from therapy. No getting up to get me and the dog ready to go. I can sleep with ear plugs in until the 30th of the month because I don’t need to hear the alarm clock go off. It’s so nice sleeping with those in.
So what shall I do with my vacation time? I have plans to deep clean. I know, I know, who on earth uses the words clean and vacation in the same sentence? Me. I’m making a list (but I won’t check it twice) and then I’ll go down the list and get as much done as physically possible. Continue reading ‘Therapy Vacation’
…. really though, why do birds sing so gay?
I should have been in bed hours upon hours ago but nope, I’m up with the birds.
If a bird falls from a bow in the forest does anyone …….
I should sleep. I have someplace to be at 2pm. It’s now 7:50AM and I haven’t even greeted the sheets. I did get 2 new art pieces up though. They’re over on the main page. Go see.
10:27AM…still up.. dang it !!!
Last Tuesday I went to see my therapist. My regular cab driver came to pick me up in his regular attire, a red shirt, a half combed afro and long finger nails. I can’t stand a guy with long finger nails; it grosses me out for some reason. Well, when it comes time to paying the cabby I do so once a month so that I only have to reach up and take the chance of touching him once. But this month I needed to pay him as I went which increased my chances of touching him. So, Tuesday I climbed into the cab, coffee in hand, money in hand and what happens? He reaches back to take the money and I’ll be damned if his finger nails weren’t dirty. Under ONE finger nail was something brown. Oh shit, what am I going to do now? I’m in a cab with a guy who has long finger nails and they’re dirty!!! I’m trapped, like a caged animal I’m trapped!! But I can’t panic. I’ve gotta catch my breath, think, think, think. I figured I could always tuck and roll out of the cab and take my chances with highway traffic. The mug might not make it but so be it. I have to calm down, the therapy office isn’t that far, I think to myself. It was a long ride, a very long ride. He grossed me out so badly I couldn’t even finish my coffee. It got wasted, so I figure the man owes me a cup of coffee.
Other stuff that grosses me out thoroughly and falls under the “now that’s just nasty” category:
Continue reading ‘Random Friday: Now That’s Just Nasty’
Last night I dreamed that my mother was taking a report about a crime that I witnessed. We were sitting on the side of the road by a tree that had been uprooted. Most of the tree had been removed by public services but the trunk was still in the ground. The whole time we talked she was irritated with me. The more she got irritated the more steam came from the ground by the trunk. I reached down and pulled part of the trunk up and off. I noted that it shouldn’t have fallen apart so easily because the wood is solid. She was irritated that I’d broken concentration to note the condition of the tree. She kept talking. I kept giving answers and watching as more and more steam rose above the grass line. Then in a totally different spot but not that far away a second steam hole broke through the ground. Now that had her attention. I told her perhaps the roots went deeper than anyone thought. Maybe they went straight to the core of the earth and the heat from the core hitting this cold surface made it turn into steam. I then reached over and finished pulling up the rest of the tree trunk which was maybe 2 feet thick. I realized it shouldn’t have been that easy to pull up. I also noticed no roots came up.
Continue reading ‘Dream Therapy: Uprooted Trees’
Recurrent themes: Seeing a crime that never gets taken seriously and therefore never solved or given the justice it deserves. In the middle of a serious situation the mother behaves contrary to reason. Usually when a baby has road burn you don’t decide to go to dinner. At the restaurant I didn’t join everyone at the table. I went off to do my own thing.
Of interest: The tree that trunk and the steam, how deep the roots went, the knot in the shape of the fist, the fact that the mother was unable to hold the fist because it was too heavy. Concern for my safety from the boy I made stop hurting his peer.
Commentary: The dream seems typical of what I always dream. Children are being hurt, no one is listening, the mother behaves irrationally, I go off to do my own thing and absolutely nothing is resolved. The one thing that stands out in this dream is the lack of power the mother had over the tree.
Continue reading ‘Dream Therapy: Uprooted Trees Commentary’
Angry Alone
Invisible Insignificant
Abandoned Foolish
Fake Afraid
Agitated Worried
Regret Shame
Rejected Mournful
Addicted Plagued
Evil Wicked
Sick Worthless
Crazy Broken
Disgusted Lost
Feelings List Link
I didn’t get to bed until 5am Monday morning. I set my alarm clock for 9am to call the cab company to take me to therapy. Most of the night my back was killing me.
I talked to a friend today who lives half across the country. She was complaining about her lack of sleep. She said she didn’t get to bed until 5am and that she automatically woke at 9am. She said she was in so much pain she couldn’t believe it. Of course I sat silently on the other end of the phone wondering if I should say something. Then I piped up with, “Are you serious?” I told her when I went to bed and what I set my alarm clock for. I then asked her if this is her PMS I’m feeling. If so, damn you woman, damn you!
This sort of thing happens all the time with me and her as well as me and other friends I’m really close with. So this is what I’ve concluded, before I accept new friendships I will have them fill out a questionnaire. It’ll be to protect us both…from each other. They must be able to pass the “pain test” or as I like to say, they must be in compliance with the “Pain Free Friendship Act.”
Do you or have or have you ever had any of the following? Is there a chance you will ever have any of the following?
Continue reading ‘Strange Symptoms, Yours or Mine?’
The subject has come up several times in the last week on blogs that I visit. It also came up in therapy Monday so I figured I’d go ahead and put some thoughts down on paper, mostly in jumbled format. First of all, Dr. D and I discussed gender confusing messages that I got from my mother. We talked about how she kept asking me if I was a little boy and if I thought I was a little boy, are you gay, all of that since I was very little….like around age 4 until I was a grown woman. Of course there’s the sexual abuse from her, the sister and two males but what was most confusing for me was the mother and sister. I was raised to believe that men are bad and little boys are nasty. So when my mother asked me if I was a little boy or if I wanted to be a little boy she pretty much asked me if I was the very thing or wanted to be the very thing she despised. But it occurred to me early on that the safest sex to be was male. I figured that being a girl made me a sitting duck, a target. I thought being a girl was part of why I was being abused so often and by so many. I figured if I were a boy life would be easier because I figured they’re despised, disliked and therefore left alone. But that wasn’t true either because I had a brother and a male cousin who were abused. In my mind though, girl equaled hurt and boy equaled hated but safer.
Continue reading ‘Men vs. Women Part 1 of 2′
see Men vs. Women Part 1 of 2
My distrust for women is more specific than it use to be. Before a heck of a lot of growing up and observing and seeing most people as individuals I lumped all women together. I trusted them only when necessary and that wasn’t often. To be more specific about my level of trust, I distrusted black women more than I did any other race of women but white women followed very closely behind them. Since my main abusers are black females (two sexually abusive and the rest emotionally, physically and spiritually abusive) then it makes sense that my first fear is black women. On this very subject I explained to a friend that we as humans see with limited sight. When we’re hurt by a person we don’t see them as an individual we see their race and their gender, their height, hair colour, ect and we connect everyone with those same characteristics with the one that hurt us. It’s not that we want to dislike people that look like the one that abused us; it’s just a natural human thing. We reduce people to what they look like. So that’s what happened, I didn’t trust women because I was abused mainly by women. And I nearly hated black women because the women that abused me are black. How on earth does one come to grips with the fact that they hate the very gender and race that they are and how does that person get to a comfort level in their own skin?
Continue reading ‘Men vs. Women Part 2 of 2′
It was an ugly session. We first discussed how it is that Blossom seemed to put me in a “male role” when we were together. We talked about the sister’s abuse and how I was to pretend to be her husband, another “male role” played by me. We talked about how Blossom may be the worst lesbian in lesbian history because of her lack of understanding that we do not have to play parts, we can just be two girls. There was so much confusion in my head trying to separate her actions from my sister’s actions, trying to stay an adult and separate then from now. I tried to explain to Blossom that referring to sex as “play” is rather disturbing to me. So we talked about that. I failed to mention that Blossom kept calling me “kiddo” and used the phrase “Mommy that feels good” despite knowing why that phrase disturbs me so. He knows the part about the phrase but I didn’t say the part about her calling me “kiddo” and her referring to sex as “play.”
Continue reading ‘Pain’
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Multiple Personality Disorder
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