Wednesday, April 6, 2011

February 1999

"You think I have this?"

I'm holding photocopies of a book Pat is reading. She was reading about deliverance ministry and this is one of the chapters.

MPD. They think I have multiple personalities. Haven't they been listening? This is a Borderline thing. I have to be screwing with them somehow. I know what happened in January. They talked to a little girl... but I'm not. I mean. No. I told them before, it's like that but it's not. I can remember too much stuff.

I know I told them about the hospital when I was pregnant with Becka. A girl there who was borderline too had said it was like parts of us stopped growing emotionally and were stuck at different ages. I react with the emotion of a little kid but... that just means I need to grow up and stop acting like a kid.

No.

I remember the lady who came to visit me with the director of the hospital program I was in. She said looking at me was like looking at a broken mirror still in it's frame... as if my soul had somehow been broken in pieces. When I'd tried to talk to the doctor, he pretty much blew me off because it was a faith thing. Morrow never did want to hear about my faith. He never got how that made it hard to talk to him.

I look at the pages in my hand. Pat looks concerned but almost excited. She really believes she's found the answer. Pastor too. Don't they get it?

Don't they GET it? I've been here before. I told them about Stein at Dominion who said not being able to remember tearing up my arms in the bathroom was bullshit. I spent days in a quiet room because I refused to admit it.

I told them about Larry. No more inner child bullshit.

They might think this is the answer now but in a few months, they're going to call me a liar just like everyone else.

Have they told Charlie? He's going to shit.

"Isn't there something kinda like, in between? You know, not... this but just mimics it?

They've been studying and wrestling with this since we got together for prayer again in January.

My stomach knots up. January. I barely remember anything. They say they talked to a little girl... and I have 3 really long cuts on my right arm. I can't believe that happened right in front of them.

I don't remember sticking a razor blade in my sock. I don't remember the little girl singing "Jesus loves me" and I really don't remember standing in front of a whole group of people and cutting my arm.

Maybe I just don't want to remember. Maybe I'm lying even to myself. This can't be real.

My right arm. I've never cut on the right.

What if they're right?

I tell them my mom teased me for reading Sybil. I tell them when I read The Exorcist she'd made a comment about me growling and spitting pea soup next. Don't they understand this is just something I read years ago and I'm trying to imitate the story? That's what I do. I'm a liar. Everyone knows it or eventually figures it out.

What if they're right?

Are they going to tell Charlie? Are they going to tell the doctor I started seeing in December?

Pastor R is going to call Charlie and talk to him. He's meeting my doctor for lunch next week.

They're standing there, looking so expectant. What if they're right?

They can't be.