There’s a lot going on here at home, most of it’s in my head.

I feel physically ready to drop.
I feel angry. Part of me feels angry.

I won’t be able to go in to see Dr. D until the beginning of September. I’ve not been able to go in to seen him for over a month. Traveling isn’t the thing I do best right now. The arm situation isn’t going well, it’ll take a very long time before it does. I’ve got to wait. There’s the issue of whether or not I’m going to move. There’s the issue of loneliness. There’s the issue of items in my biggest fish tank being sold off , I had it a week ago. It’s a DID thing, a PTSD thing….. a thing I wish we didn’t do. So, I have an empty fish tank sitting in the dining room. No fish, just a clawed frog in a 10 gallon tank and a baby bullfrog in a 5 gallon tank waiting for a pond. I’m happy Pete is still here. Mary Jane is still here. I still wake with her beside me but there’s been the accusation that she only sleeps next to me when she wants me to feed her or pet her. She doesn’t come over to me because she loves me. Can you say transference?

I get self destructive at times. The abandonment issues are quite strong right now. When these things hit without being properly managed, I start throwing away things I love. If one thing I love left me then I’m not waiting around for other things to leave. I’ll just get rid of everything and that way I have control over how much I can be hurt. I haven’t done this in years. There’s a lot going on in my head and several alters feeling rather intense emotions. I can’t leave out that the intense emotions are now sitting on top of a hormonal shift. That’s never good. This issue where I’ve thrown away things I like or I’ve sold items that I like hasn’t come up in years. It is a surprise, a step back, but not one from which I can’t recover.

I am so angry at my sister for ignoring me.

I know it sounds strange but, when I feel like closing up, even the size paper I sketch on gets smaller. Larger pieces of paper seem daunting, threatening, overwhelming. For a good while I could do the two page spreads at 8 x 10 each side. I’m down to 5.5 x 8.5, one side.

I write and keep writing because I’m supposed to. I’m trying not to close up so tightly. I feel like a fake when I am jovial and all that or when I speak to others as if everything is okay. I’m not okay.

I want to close up. I want to roll over, face the wall and act like my family is alive and that my sister is someone she’s not…..someone nice, someone who actually liked me at some time.

The fantasy of having a loving family of my own has come to a shocking end with plenty of anger left to spare. The biggest problem she and I have is being born under that roof. The problem I have now is accepting that I can’t change anything. I can’t do a dag on thing, that’s what makes me so angry and makes me want to just show up at her house and shake her by the shoulders and beg her to stop this insanity! I do see her side of things. I know she feels abandoned. I know she is angry, too. I know that! I’m not stupid…… I know it. Gracious……

Forget it. Just forget it.

I’ll let the tank sit for a bit and then reclaim it. I’ll scribble on small paper until larger is safer and I’ll keep hoping in more than fantasies. I’ll keep writing entries i don’t really want to write until this depression loses its grip and I can walk a healthier path with a steady foot. The therapy under my belt tells me I can do this.


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