Monthly Archive for September, 2008

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Interviewed on Texty Ladies

Published on September 25, 2008 in Art. 2 Comments

What do you get when you put together three woman who love art and books? You get Texty Ladies Artful adventures in writing. Who are these ladies? Two are are authors and lovers of art. The third blogger in the group is addicted to reading. She says she won’ be satisfied until she’s read them all.  On their blog they interview various living artists as well as novelists. Today I am pleased to announce I’ve been interviewed on Texty Ladies concerning the impact art therapy has had on my life and healing process. Please go check out the Texy ladies blog as well as my interview. Let them know you were there with a comment.

Texty Ladies

My interview is here.

Austin

Swimming In Negativity

Published on September 24, 2008 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Morton's Pride, PTSD and Therapy. 3 Comments

I thought to myself, I’m such a moron. I can’t even keep my head straight and get one sentence out without stuttering or switching. This poor man is probably holding 10 different conversations. No wonder he doesn’t know what I’m talking about half the time cause half the time I’m switching so fast that I can’t keep up with myself. I feel bad for him sometimes having me as a client.

We were supposed to talk about the flashbacks I’ve been having but I freaked out and did the revolving door thing. I wonder if he’s going to tell me I babble too much and it frustrates him so it would be better if someone else tried to treat me. Part of me says that’s ridiculous but another part worries he’ll eventually get fed up with the revolving door thing. I guess too he doesn’t always know when I’ve switched so maybe he’s not as frustrated as I think he is or maybe I’m just worried because I know how messed up I feel and how hopeless I feel at times. Continue reading ‘Swimming In Negativity’

Politics, Crafts and Women

Published on September 23, 2008 in Relationships. 0 Comments

I went to Hobby Lobby and got a few things. The trip was unlike most of my shopping trips. This was uneventful, I mean except for when the employee decided we should debate Obama and McCain. I said  human beings were never meant to rule one another to this extent so despite good intentions and going in with a half ways pure heart Obama will begin to show the heart of a politician. I can see straight through McCain. He’s business as usual, nothing will change. I can’t see through Obama and that worries me. I don’t trust his smile and I don’t trust him. She wasn’t happy with the statement but I could tell the conversation was as enjoyable for her as it was for me. It did shock her though to hear a black woman say something against Obama. If you ask me a question I plan to answer it as tactfully as possible. You might not want to hear the answer so be careful of what you ask. Continue reading ‘Politics, Crafts and Women’

Without Anesthesia

Published on September 22, 2008 in Abuse, Dissociative Identity Disorder, PTSD and Therapy. 2 Comments

Amy Smiles thinks Dr. D might be a bit daft. She doesn’t think he’s that bright.  (he doesn’t read our blog, thank goodness.) She’s also figured out that she’s a five year old messenger. I have issues with that too because a five year old shouldn’t have to sit in therapy and talk about this kind of stuff. We talked about the muzzle as well as other instances of being treated like a dog. We talked about continued flashbacks from when the Lamb was on her knees in front of us then we ended by talking about our issues with being gay and how uncomfortable we are with that. I can’t remember why we started calling her the Lamb. Somehow through all of that talking I nearly fell asleep in session. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was so tired I couldn’t see straight. We’re going to go over that particular sofa memory a little more to try and desensitize it. Oh joy. I so look forward to that.. the same as I look forward to tooth extractions and  open heart surgery with no anesthesia. When I got up to leave I wasn’t balanced and fell. Quite embarrassing. I’ve been having trouble with my legs for the last few days. This is the first time in a long time I’ve fallen in public. Joy of joys. I wondered if I was going to make it down the stairs okay. I just sat down and thought about how my pride kept me from bringing my cane to therapy. .. that and it didn’t match my outfit.  Continue reading ‘Without Anesthesia’

Ink Drawings

Published on September 22, 2008 in Art. 0 Comments

These are the drawings I did when the power went out during Hurricane Ike. I figured they’d look different in the light of day. I was right. Seems darkness spreads a girls nose wider than intended. I plan to fix that in a bit. After I saw the first one I decided to wait until the sun went down to paint it. So in addition to sketching her in the dark I transferred her to a different piece of paper, fixed that dang on nose (on the transfer) then painted her again in the dark.

PhotobucketPhotobucket

I really like the look on the face of the pencil sketch version of the flower girl. Continue reading ‘Ink Drawings’

Where Do I Start?

Published on September 22, 2008 in Pets and Soapbox. 4 Comments Tags: .

PhotobucketSave room for me will ya?

So what’s new in my world? Well, it appears I’m going to be a grandmother. Yup… but I’m not in the least bit thrilled about it. I took her to get fixed and they said they’d have to abort the puppies before they fixed her. Hell no, no you can’t abort the puppies. Continue reading ‘Where Do I Start?’

A Conditioned Liar

Published on September 20, 2008 in Abuse, Mental Health, PTSD and Therapy. 5 Comments

I know she lied but I guess when you use the word “lie” out loud it sounds and lands much differently from when its heard inside. My mother lied. My abusers lied. In my head it lands with a soft but haunting thud. My mother lied. My abusers lied. Out loud it nearly knocks me off my feet. For the first time ever someone told me in those words, “She lied to you.” I mean I know she did but to say it out loud is to make it all her fault and take the blame off of me. Truthfully, I still blame myself for some things but what is more, I still feel bad inside and I still am willing to believe on some levels that this abuse story I tell can’t really be true. To say she lied means I am believed. To believe me is to confirm that I am a good liar and can convince good and honest people to turn against the mother. It is so confusing. In my head it’s a secret but out loud it’s a conspiracy to bring the woman that gave birth to me down in a ball of slanderous flames.

Every September for as long as I can remember we went to my grandfather’s old orphanage. It’s a historical place and a beautiful one too. I have very fond memories of it especially hanging by the duck pond in paddle boats or laying beside geese gazing at the starry sky. I have amazing memories from that place. Continue reading ‘A Conditioned Liar’