Every single time I see this person write his name on the net he writes his chosen first, middle and last name. At this time I’ll call him Brian Michael Evans. After a little bit it got annoying. I even thought to myself, is it so hard for you to write Brian M. Evans or Brian Evans and leave it alone? Why your whole name all the time? I get it, you have three names, so do I, get over yourself!
Despite going on and on with all sorts of criticism I was unable to shake that I do the very same thing. Most of the time when I write my name I write all three of my chosen names, Faith Magdalene Austin. Why do I do this, I thought? By now anyone who regularly reads this blog knows I chose this name rather carefully then changed it legally so that I could move past the pain of my old name. What I’ve come to realize is I still struggle to feel as if I exist in my own space without threat of extinction due to outside influences. What I mean is after years of dehumanization it is still a struggle for me to completely believe that I get to keep “me”.
Continue reading ‘My Whole Name’
The little person drawn in this image is my mother. I have a very old photo of her that shows her as a tall, skinny and awkward girl. She looked to be maybe 15 years old in the photo with her 3 sisters. What struck me about the photo is that its one of the only ones where she looked like a real, live person. Most other photos she’s made up nicely and has a mannequin appearance to her. In this one I saw an awkward child that I could actually relate to.
In the art piece she’s dressed as a carrot and is holding a heart. The heart is the false love she gave to me because I ate my vegetables. She was so proud to tell people her daughter was a vegetarian. It made me different and made her the center of attention. This is much like the story Show and Tell where I had something “different” about me that could be exploited for narcissistic gain. Boy did my mother tell as many people as would listen that her daughter is a vegetarian. This time she didn’t seek sympathy, just attention in general. The mother in this art piece is faceless.
Continue reading ‘Art Therapy – Thoughts About Home’
Dr. D and I discussed the creative free flow writing I did called Show and Tell.
This particular piece is interesting to me because of the names I chose and the words chosen to describe my sister’s behavior and responses. Most significant to me is the names chosen for the characters. I went by the name Anna my senior year in high school and Cheyenne is one of my sister’s middle names. I switched up the names but didn’t really think about it until after the fact. Anna is also the name of one of my very mild alters. In the Bible there’s a woman named Anna that was considered loyal, faithful and always in the temple. This is one of the reasons the alter chose her name and one of the reasons I went by it in high school. I liked the thought of being considered loyal and faithful. Since my sister was none of those things its interesting that I’d choose to give her that name in the story and take hers as my own. Roger is just the brand of the cigarettes I was smoking at the time 
Continue reading ‘Therapy Session Review: Show and Tell’
I don’t exactly remember what you look like until I see your photo but I remember your voice, your hands and your eyes. The rest of you escapes me.
Photos of you as a child show such sadness only I feel no sympathy for you. I know what was done and how horrible it was yet I feel no sorrow for you.
I’m not sorry nor am I happy that she beat you, but I am sorry you chose to beat me. I’m not sorry nor am I glad that you were molested and raped, but I’m sorry that you CHOSE to do those things to me. I’m sorry that you blew a chance to turn our family’s legacy around.
I’m not grieved by nor am I pleased that your heart breaks because you know your mother doesn’t love you. I’m sorry that you CHOSE not to love me. I’m not sorry that you hated having me as a daughter. If I was such a horrible, horrible person and you decided to keep me anyway, why, that was your choice too. Continue reading ‘I’m Not Sorry’
Anna raced through the front door and up the stairs to her mother’s room to tell her all about show and tell the next day at school. Everyone would bring in a pet, their favorite pet and tell a story about it. Anna only had Cheyenne to bring. Since she was the only pet she’d have to do and she’d make her look so wonderful that everyone would want one just like her.
At mother’s room Anna burst in the door and exclaimed, “Mama, tomorrow is show and tell. I want to take Cheyenne. Can I? she begged. “Get out of here would you? I’m trying to get myself together for dinner with Roger.” Little Anna sighed and slowly backed out of the room. Ever since Roger entered the picture she saw very little of her mother. She’d leave the house, the city, the state, the country without her and spend time on great adventures, without her. All Anna had was a big empty house … and Cheyenne. She didn’t much care for her either but if that was all she had she’d play with her. But you let a better option come along and Chey could eat her dust for all she cared. She was just a standby anyways, not much anyone could do with her but tolerate her, Anna thought. But tomorrow when she’s put on display everyone will fall in love with Anna for having her.
Continue reading ‘Creative Writing: Show and Tell’
Dr. D and I discussed the sketches I did the other day about life as a multiple. We also discussed huge differences in sketches about my mother and the ones about my sister. The ones with my mother are chaotic and usually filled from one edge of the paper to the other. There appears to be a lot of random images and usually the drawing shows high anxiety as well as grief and fear. The sketches I do about my sister usually appear empty which speaks rather loudly in itself. The art pieces about her are usually dead center of the page and rather simple. The one I did the other day shows me holding onto her arm as we stand together tangled in her shackles. The image is proportionate and has recognizable humans which is in stark contrast to pieces concentrating on mother issues. The one directly next to it is typical of mother issues with it’s elongated figures, exaggerated features exaggerated and closed eyes. Eyes are important in my pieces. They are usually quite large or closed with very little in between. It’s yet another extreme that shows up regularly in my work.
Continue reading ‘Symbolism In Art Therapy’
I’m almost sure I’m here for more than sexual service to others. I’m almost sure but I start to question it when my “friends” ask me for sex.
I’m almost sure my mother was wrong that my life’s calling is sexual service. Sometimes it gets screwy in my head and I fall right in line with no questions asked. I suppose if it were a guy I’d put him in his place real quick but all this woman got was a very quiet “no” which came across as more of a question than an answer.
Continue reading ‘Flip The Switch’
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