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June 30, 2011

Usually I shove it down best I can so I have control, control, control. Stuff those people down and just talk on the inside. Don’t let them out or let them up and be together with them.

If I didn’t give a shit about this blog I would write about the terrible things they say while I’m doing regular things. It’s difficult to watch a kid play a video game while inside they’re showing me what was being done to them at that age.

Write, write, write. Get it all down and take it to the therapist and talk about it. Then back home and it starts all over.

I think I need to see my therapist more often. Kids are home and there’s no one to watch them and arrangements with the in-laws have to revolve around their schedule.

So I stop talking because I don’t make sense. It sounds like gibberish, like I’m having a stroke. And I play with some toys and draw pictures and I’ve found lots of toads and frogs to play with. Many of the bird parents are bringing their babies and we can go right up to them. We have butterflies and moths and even the snakes are mellow, so I can pick them up and we can check them out.

Okay. Back to work. If it hasn’t been used in the past 5-10 years I’m throwing it out. That keeps me busy lately.

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Facta non verba – Deeds not words

Sometimes the most important action you can perform is the one that says “I don’t need you”. It’s very empowering and helps release anger, frustration, and powerlessness. It’s not necessary to say it in front of the person, especially when your actions demonstrate to all around you and the person that this person no longer has any hold on you and cannot touch you or affect your life.

It just feels good. It feels even better when you don’t even have to try, or think about it, and it just comes naturally.

Save the anger for something else………like the person who washed the red shirt with the whites. Now there’s justification for anger.

 

Oh yeah!

 

There’s more to this, but I’ve never written about the abuse inflicted by my ex-husband. It was nasty.

My oldest graduated from high school today and while he was there with his wife and they did a very foolish, childish, very public display of stupidity I was okay and was able to laugh it off around them for the brief time I was near them. But enough of that silly stuff – my boy graduated! Yay!  *whew*

*The following link is to an HBO documentary about MPD. Some may find it triggering*

This documentary may be familiar to people, but I only found it recently:

http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/multiple-personalities/

 

I relate very closely with the last woman’s story, including what happens when she switches. My husband and I were even discussing some similar things that have happened with us earlier this week. I liked this documentary and I really liked to see that many of the people credited at the end are people I know through books or through my therapist.

How do you feel about this film?

I think they can see me, like maybe there’s a camera that they placed somewhere in here that I haven’t found yet.

When I get dressed it has to be in a small, closed space so no one can see me. I would be horrified if I had to dress elsewhere.

Sitting in my own house with the windows open I am extremely aware of how I look, move, breathe, talk, everything because someone may be watching from outside a window.

When I walk across the yard or to the mail box I have to put one foot carefully in front of the other, put my shoulders back, and walk with purpose. I don’t know why.

I can’t type anything on the computer if someone else is in the room.

My food needs to be spaced a particular way on my plate and eaten in a certain order or I can’t eat it and my appetite will just disappear.

All the surfaces have to be clean in the house or I go nuts.

The bathroom is always meticulously clean. I don’t want any germs there.

It’s sad. I can’t navigate through this if I don’t know what the rules are.

Been here seven years and I’ve been invited to only one house party. Until last year I volunteered whenever I could, listened to people, etc., but I think I must look and act so weird that people don’t want to be around me or wish to try and find out more about me. I don’t volunteer anymore and I don’t shop local anymore. Now I drive 15 minutes to shop in a city where I’m anonymous.

Abusing a child and beating into them that they are nothing, and exist only as an experiment, an object, and less than human makes it hard to get through the day. I can’t see where I’m going, so I just keep moving and moving until I stop.

I’m so scatterbrained and feel so weird.

 

 

 

Last night I had a very graphic dream about something my mother did which was sexually abusive and as a child never understood.Then this morning I received the following email from my her:

“Dear Lisa,

I want to start by saying that I know that you are angry at us for something we have done and I want to say that what ever it was , we are sorry and we really do love you very much and pray that some day you will forgive us.

I want you to know that your dad is ill and in the hospital. I just got home from the emergency room and he is being admitted. He is diagnosed with pancreatitis and they are doing an MRI tomorrow and calling in the GI doctors and pancreatic surgeon to evaluate the MRI tomorrow. At this time we do not know what it is, but with his history of cancer we are concerned. I will let you know what is going on.

Love Mom”

After hubby and I read it two things occurred to us:

1. She wants me to confront her so she can try and be penitent so I will forgive them, and

2. She realizes that my dad may not be around for much longer and she will be alone and it’s starting to scare her, so she needs to try and connect with me (and maybe my drug-addict sister) to take care of her.

I just wanted to note that she did not give the name of a hospital, a phone number or anything. That’s what she does, though. She leaves out pertinent information to make you go to her and then makes you do things for her while she soaks up the drama.

Several years ago hubby and I knew what we would say when she comes asking for help – “We’re sure you’ll find a nice retirement home.”. It’s not our problem, it’s not our responsibility.

Thinking about my dad dying didn’t make me angry or depressed. Rather, I felt relief, hope and freedom. It just washed over and inside me. He hasn’t tried to contact me in months which is nice. If he is dying and wishes to see me I won’t go. I expect there may be phone calls from relatives, but it’s none of their business and I’m happy to tell them so.

I feel hopeful after reading other blogs and how they reacted to their father’s deaths. We’ll be okay and we’ll feel safer and that’s always a good thing.

I planned on my hysterectomy last Tuesday to be a great big deal, inside and out. In the end the host was the one that had any issues. The alters handled it brilliantly. The host wants everyone to understand that this was a major surgery and we should be worrying about it more, but the alters are glad it’s over, happy about the changes the surgery will bring, and ready to move on. The host wanted all of us to be terribly upset about losing our girly parts, but everyone inside felt nothing but relief.

Maybe the host feels that this is probably the last surgery so we need to milk it. I don’t get much support after I have surgery around here, although the family is doing really well this time.

DID isn’t an issue at the moment. Neither are flashbacks. I’m having recurring nightmares, though, of an area I’ve dreamed of for years, and the medicine isn’t helping, so I’m going to stop taking it. One less pill. I also stopped taking Nexium because long-term studies show that over time it can lead to increased anxiety, racing thoughts, and rapid heartbeat, which is what was happening the past several months. Since I stopped taking it I haven’t had a problem with that and I just need to tweak my diet a little.

School ends this week which means cutting back on therapy and rearranging my daily schedule.

My mother continues to send me annoying emails like this from June 11th:
“Good morning Lisa,

How are you doing?
The girls should be finishing school some time this month, right? Didn’t (daughter) say she was playing softball this summer? I bet they are looking forward to a fun summer. Hopefully it will be a little less hectic for you.
Margaret is coming in from Montana today and Theresa is having a family picnic tomorrow. Margaret has been coming home a lot, I think it’s because Iona is getting older and she wants to see her as much as she can. Iona will be 98yrs old this November. Iona refuses to use a cane or walker and she falls a lot but she will not gives in. She is an amazing woman.
I was thinking a lot about you last week when I was weeding the garden. I was over by the English rock garden you made when you were with us. Right now it is full of your grandpa’s lilies. And a couple of days ago we had to trim your heather bush, it is getting fairly big. The yucca plants are growing good, especially the one in the front yard. Who was it that gave you the yucca plants, for some reason I thought it was someone you met at… college. All but 2 of them are flowering now.
Did you plant your vegetable garden yet? The only vegetables we have is an upside down tomato plant on the patio. I hope it works. We have a lot of flowering buds on it right now.
Did you lose any trees from all the storms. Our neighbor next door had 2 tree limbs fall on the house 2 days ago.
The nurse I broke in a little over a year ago quit and now they are looking again. I still only work a couple days a week.
Your dad is doing well with his health.
Well, I have to go, hope all is well with you and hope (hubby) and kids are doing good.
Miss you and love you, Mom”

I do not speak to this woman (it’s been over one year since I’ve spoken with my parents on the phone), and it’s been several years since I’ve had any contact with the people she mentions. She lives in an imaginary world where we have some kind of relationship. It helps me to post her emails and know that they are out there for anyone to see. Oh well.

It’s quiet inside, which spooks me a little. I made it through the surgery, though, and I thought I wouldn’t. When I opened my eyes in the recovery room they had already put my glasses on and tucked the stuffed animal I brought with me (my oldest daughter made it for me) under my arm. That was cool.

I’m okay today so I’m going to test myself and go shopping. First groceries and then to the video game/movie store to pick up the extended versions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. With my trusty tummy binder and knowing that I still have some Percocet left for pain I will be invincible!

See ya round!