In June 2002 I began a blogging journey through recovery from DID (otherwise known as Multiple Personalities). The blog was downloaded and printed out before deletion in 2007. This is that blog.
My name is Marisa and I am the host of The Crew. I am the wife of 16 years to Charlie, mother of Kristie (14), Becca (11), Rachel (10), Daniel (8), and John (5). I also am a survivor of years of physical, sexual and emotional abuse. In February of 1999 I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), more commonly known as Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). The Crew is all the parts of me who have made surviving and now healing a possibility. The diaries we have at (old blog site) tell about our life and the events that caused and encouraged this defense of sanity. Here we share the day to day walk toward health and wholeness as well as the normal everyday life of wife and mother. We have a very off-beat sense of humor and have worked hard to find the laughter and joys in everything, including the oddities of living life as a multiple. Here you can meet the members of The Crew and get to know us. You may even find that you can relate to some of our struggles. On the outside our life looks normal and few people know about The Crew. This is our life in our words. Perhaps a chance to change some of the stigma and myth surrounding mental illness and DID.
Last night was the worst, most intense SI(Self-injury) dream in
years. I mean, since the hospital days.
Stephanie and Reese sort of have the morning off. This am when we woke up things were so intense and Stephanie so triggered, it's
not worth trying to stick together today. Too many things to go wrong if we
blow. Today is Kris's birthday and even though she's hardly going to be home
for it I don't want her having to see me falling to
pieces. It's bad enough she has to wait until this evening for gifts
since the paycheck is still not showing in the account.
The good news is that TMI, Charlie's company, got
the contract to fully (and I mean technojunkie dream) automate a 10,000 sq ft
house on Kiawah Island. if the customer is pleased, the builder said they'll
get contracts to do all the houses he's building out there. Plus Charlie's been
asked to extend his contract with Mearsk (big shipping co) to 3 years and they
have okayed an 18% raise spread over the length of the contract. And he'll be
getting paid on the first instead of the 15th starting in november. All that is
a big load off but means we'll see less of Charlie until they get enough TMI
people trained to do the work.
I'm trying my best not to write about this
dream. It's not a want but a need so I'll push myself to get this done. Just
thinking about it is damn near overwhelming tho and so I'm splitting the
writing with playing super collapse and keep jumping between windows...
I know I can do this without straying too far from
the subject. It connects with so many things tho, it's going to be hard.
First the dream... we were at some function with the
people from this area that we know. Like a wedding reception or something. It
was being held like at one of the historical plantations around here and
whoever was hosting it had also rented some cabins.
We were at this reception thingy when Pastor R's family
showed up. Randall and Renee with their perfectly happy, blissfully ingnorant
smiles firmly screwed into place. Randall came over and (this was a big issue
with us years ago) came up from behind to wrap and arm around our shoulder. Stephanie immediately told him, to his ever smiling, *we love you anyway* face
to fuck off.
None of this actually fits with anything that
happened with these people. I think they were convenient because that
particular betrayal is still so fresh and recent.
Anyway, it was like he and or Renee were following
us, knowing how upsetting and triggering it was, and keeping their patronizing
smiles in place every second. He would hug us and we'd push him away and curse. All the other people could see what was going on but it was as if, the didn't
*see* what was really going on. No, different than that, it was as if there
were a concerted effort to not acknowledge our distress, but rather to pretend
in the face of such ovbious problems, that everything was okay. (okay, so the Parrishes were good at that as far as their own personal problems, but that's really
more something my family was big on.) The whole elephant in the livingroom
analogy. Everyone sees it but tries to continue on as if there isn't a massive
2 ton obstacle staring them in the face.
At one point in the dream, we bolted from the crowd
and went to one of the cabins. More of a chalet really. We walked in and
punched out the glass in a china cabinet, then punched out windows that lined
a hallway. When we got to a bedroom we shut the door and looked at the hand. There were only tiny scratches. So we walked to the hall and grabbed a big
piece of glass. Going back to the bedroom we just dug the glass into the arm,
trying with all our might to slice from elbow to wrist. Randall came in and
with his smile still glowing said we should just start keeping out blades with
us because the scratches we were getting with the glass (in the dream, the cuts
were deep and freely flowing. God, it felt SO good!) were nothing. If we so
desperately needed to make a grand show of cutting (in a bedroom, alone?) we
should at least make it a good show.
The next thing I know, we're being admitted to a
hospital. The rest of the dream was about finding ways to SI without getting
caught. That and wishing to find the Parrishes and rip off their faces.
Just a little disturbing, eh? What scares me the
most is that the feeling of tearing at flesh in the dream created a feeling of
need and a remembrance of way back when cutting felt good
like the remembrance of how good a high feels when you're trying to break free
of a drug.
There's more to this, though that's about it for the
dream. I need a break. Under the covers time again.
Tired, grouchy, pissy, achy, too introverted for our
own good right now. But we have a really really good excuse. WAAAAHHHH!!!! The
coffee grinder and hand blenders both broke in one day and I have to drink
instant freeze dried shit to avoid the withdrawl headache. If
that's not a good excuse for rampant lethargy and bitchiness, don't know what
is. Out of cigarettes too and not in any condition to go out. Having sort of a
panic induced housebound day. Need to go shopping for krys and honestly would
feel better if we could wear shades and wrap up in a huge old cloak with a
hood. God, just don't want to even be seen. Of course, there's no cloak to be
had in the house and it's in the upper 80's anyway. They'd probably follow us
assuming we were either there to rob the place or shoplifting.
We've had a pretty good streak of
optimism here the last few months... We're allowed one really *everything's
fucked up and the earth just sucks* day, right?
Time to crawl under the covers for awhile.
Somebody has been sitting in a corner inside,
rocking all day long.That doesn't help and she flips if anyone trys to talk to
her... She's one of the teens. We know that much. The guess is she... hell we
don't even know what the guess is. need to try and nail Samantha on some
details.
Lyn is out of town and we'll just go ahead and admit
that while we don't feel lost without her... we are getting pouty about her
frequent travel this year. We know it's what she does and as her practice
expands and she teaches more, she'll be in demand other places. Still there's
that *My therapist! Mine mine mine!* feeling. At least we can admit to it.
Still no real prospects for a babysitter, so will
look into home or church based daycare for a couple of days a week... not
thrilled about the idea, but oh well. With this much going on inside it's best
not to miss any more appts that absolutely necessary.
Maybe we can wheedle charlie into getting a
pack of cigarettes... then we could go out at like 4 am and not actually have
to see more than 10 ppl in a whole store. Keep head down, wear a cap, hair
down... maybe can pull it off.
Don't ask why we don't want to be seen. way too much
to get into right now.
Charlie let me go back to bed once the kids were up
this am. he made sure they got off to school and we stayed in bed til 12. First
good sleep we've had in weeks and it's amazing the difference one night made. Had to take a sleeping pill of course. We don't seem to get anything deeper
then REM unless we do. still, thinking is clearer, there's more ability to
focus, not getting overwhelmed quite so much. Makes you want to ask God why we
can't have, say a 30 hour day and be able to sleep 11 hours every night?
Have no idea who posted the last entry. We had both
diaries open and this one on the 'write in diary' page. Assuming it wasn't a
little and haven't actually gotten around to asking, since we only just now saw
it. Considering how out of it we've been it's no surprise.
Just in case you're looking around and are
interested in using the diary, just let someone know. We'd really like to hear
what you have to say. If something that is going on or being written is
creating a problem please let us know that too.
Well, managed to get laundry almost caught up and a
few other things accomplished today. We finally got a chance to sit down and
work on the cross stitch eagle we're (mostly Reese) doing for Charlie. Reese
had completed this 11x14 eagle a few years ago and had intended to give it to Pastor R. but, we won't go into what happened... it wasn't sexual or anything..
just someone with a savior complex who needed to be the one to fix us. Everybody's
heart was in the right place but anyway... it went to shit. so the eagle, along
with virtually everything the girls had been given or made or whatever, got
burned in a large bonfire one night when the absolute bottom was coming fast.
Ach, that's still to painful to talk about just yet. In a way it all worked for
the best, because in becoming totally dependant on him and Pat, we couldn't
trust any therapist or doctor and we totally alienated Charlie. He's supposed
to be our greatest source of support and he was left almost totally in the
dark. After all the shit hit the fan and we wound up alone and betrayed...
everyone in the system had to learn to trust Charlie and believe he wasn't
their enemy. Stephanie spent 13 years trying to get rid of him and she needed
to learn to not just accept him but stop waiting for him to 'be just like all
the rest'. in the end, Charlie and Marisa became closer and he gained a HUGE
family.
10 years ago, a visiting pastor had told Marisa that
her's was a blessed marriage and that they would have children upon children. At the time it blew them both away because they'd planned 5 already but children upon
children sounded like a whole lot more. Well *giggles* we do now! All the
littles are like his kids and he treats them that way. Most of them call him Daddy. Only Stephanie and Reese don't, but they do consider him a best friend.
Stephanie is the only one in the system who so totally rejected the family who
raised us, that she even had her own last name. Last year on a trip to Canada
to meet some of our online DID friends, Stephanie bought herself a pair of
earrings carved in the shape of feathers. She bought a necklace for Charlie
with a carved feather on it as well. Feathers is our last name and when she
gave Charlie the necklace she told him that this was her way of commemorating
the decision to take Feathers as her name too. Then after a brief warm fuzzy
moment she informed him not to think that meant he could get all mushy and
expect her to be the same. Like anyone expects her to shed her hardass
exterior for anything else.
Back to the cross stitch eagle. (maybe our focus
isn't all that better) Several months ago Reese asked if we could buy the same
exact kit. She said the one she'd done before never should have been for that
person and she wanted to do one for Charlie. so that's what we're working on. He knows we're doing it but not that it's for him and we hope to have it done
before his b-day in mid October.
Well the dryer just beeped and we're sitting at the
kid's computer since he's on ours... this keyboard SUCKS! So we officially blame
any typos on the little tiny thing.
