Tuesday, February 25, 2014

staying *with* it


trying our best to keep ourselves out front. stephanie, reese and i, but it's getting hard. let the guard down for a minute and it starts to crumble. it's been years since i've had this constant shake through out my whole body. that was just before the wall came down and the girls made themselves 'officially' known.

keep telling myself it'll be alright. isn't that a line from a song?

someone was up after amelia last night and there are rows of small burns where it looks as if a lit cigarette was just dotted up and down my left arm. *sigh* it's frightening to not really know who's doing the SI, because we don't know the reason or how to help them know they can be safe without self-harm.

anyone who's seen the movie spy kids... in floop's castle there was a virtual room that was almost like a psychotic fun house. the parts of our *inside* house where the sleeping children are, the unknown parts, are much like the virtual room. we can't simply go find them and bring them to safety. they have to find their way out. once they do, they are given a place of their own in the safe part of our *house*.

we can try to communicate with them and sometimes i think they hear what's said aloud, but even writing to them is iffy, since they would have to come out to read it.

no matter how hard we try, it's just not always possible to control *how* they come out. so if someone is violently angry or intent on self-harm or suicide, it gets scary as hell. there have been a handful of times in the last 3 years that charlie has had to keep all medications in the house in a fire safe and the key with him at all times. we've had to have friends come provide 24 watch. in some ways, i know that with trish and harley here, we can ask for that help if needed, but there's a whole big trigger there too.

if it comes down to it, we know the hospital is an option, but even dr. c agrees it's a bad one. the one place our ins. will pay for is barely equipped to deal with depression, let alone DID. there is one RN per shift and the rest of the staff are 'mental health workers'. all that really means is they are untrained warm bodies being paid minimum wage to babysit the loonies.

this is sounding like rambling, but at least it's keeping me sitting here and not falling into the fog where i can't stop something from happening.

i know we survived what happened with him and we survived these memories coming up before. somehow we will get thru this. just not looking forward to what it will take to get there.

thanks everybody for your support. wish there were words to tell you how much it means to us all.


im amelia 
we dont have that bad daddy no more
we gots a good daddy an his names charlie
and he dont hurts girls
the uter daddy was bad and meen
sum a the peepls inside dont know anybuddy
thay think its just them
mommy gots to find thare door and take the lok off it
then they can no the bad daddys gon and its ok now
i has to go bak to bed now
im 6

Monday, February 24, 2014

feeling lost


where's the upside? we can always find the blessing, the silver lining, the bright spot in the dark. where is it now? THIS CANNOT BE REAL! the children come to share their day, their hugs and love and we can't force the smile. can it please be okay not to be strong this time? so tired. so scared. so hurt and ashamed and confused broken



not again. oh please, my God. not again. this nearly killed me before. i can't too much too soon. where am i supposed to start? i can't breathe. i'm not willing to keep myself heavily medicated just to get through a day. the kids. the more weighed down this gets us, the less mother they have. it's not fair to them.

why? no! please can't this just be a dream. all of it, just on elaborate fantasy. i'm willing to be the liar! let this all have been a lie. i can pretend the voices are my thoughts. i can put the wall up again. i can recreate myself to be the perfect wife and mother. i've done it before. NO! this can't be REAL!

the one thing... THE ONE DAMN THING we haven't had to deal with is staring me down and waiting for me to crumble. why isn't it enough to have been through the mutilation and abuse we all remember. why isn't it enough to have been identifiable to any pedophile within miles. why isn't it enough that i was an easy target for everyone. we've been through every other horrible thing a kid can go through! why does it have to be this? why does it have to be family?

i don't want the answers. i don't want to know. I WANT THIS NOT TO BE REAL!

can't think can't breathe can't function can't rest can't let the others step in because it's already taking everyone inside to keep this body in one piece.

i want to hide in the shower. i want to bleed. i want this to go away. please stop!

curl in a ball and hide away. the monster can't come anymore. keep the light on. he won't come if you see his face. wrap the covers tight around you. hide at the foot of the bed. maybe he won't see you. maybe tonight he'll leave you alone.

close your eyes when you see him coming. i'm asleep. i can't play the game.

God help me

Sunday, February 23, 2014

and now for something completely different


Time for some fun. We can't do this serious shit all the time, so I'm going to share with you my keychain collection. Together we have well over a hundred but my favorites are the ones with sayings on them. Enjoy.


Because I'm the Mommy that's why. (On Marisa's keys)
I didn't lose the keys. This time I lost the whole damn car (Also on Marisa's keys)
Beware! Mood subject to change without notice
I'm one of the bad things that happen to good people
Don't look at me in that tone of voice
Now is NOT a good time to annoy me
Don't annoy the crazy person
Which of my personalities do you find offensive?
I hear voices and they don't like you
I live in my own little world but it's okay. They all know me here
Go away! You're freaking me out
Mom's taxi (obviously Marisa's)
BACK OFF! I'm stressed to kill
It's been lovely but I have to SCREAM now
Let me make it simple for you. NO!
The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has it's limits
I see dumb people
Stupid people shouldn't breed
Stupid should be painful
One by one the penguins steal my sanity
Was today really necessary?
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most
You're village called. Their idiot is missing
You're depriving some poor village of its IDIOT
Chaos, Panic, and Disorder. My job here is done
I wish I was like you, easily amused
I'm suffering like the rest of them
Maybe I don't FEEL like smiling
If I promise to miss you, will you go away?
Why be difficult when you can be impossible?
Don't go away mad. Just go AWAY!
If I were any lazier, I'd be in a coma
I can't have a crisis today. My schedule is full
I've upped my standards. Now up YOURS
I only look sweet and innocent
I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person
Is that your face or did your neck throw up?
Shock me. Say something intelligent
I used to be disgusted. Now I'm just amused
Just visiting this planet
Reality is the leading cause of stress
I don't have PMS. I'm just naturally mean
I have PMS and a gun. What was your question?
Just another lousy day in paradise
World's Best Friend Award (From Harley and the JstArk system) Finally, my personal favorites:
Hi! How are you? That's nice. Now get out of my way before I kill you!
If you eat a live frog in the morning, nothing worse will happen to EITHER of YOU for the rest of the day


I'm trying to see things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ASS

we don't need no stinkin' title


charlie has the day off. he's taking daniel who also needs a day off to go set off his new model rocket. daniel deserves to play hooky today.

got a note from daniel's teacher. she had no idea the extent of his problems last year and has changed his behavior plan. she knew about the adhd but not about how very severe his depression and low-self esteem had been. she said she sees how very much daniel wants to do well and to please. THAT alone is a big thing for him. last year he didn't give a shit and was up front about the fact that he was a bad kid who only knew how to get in trouble.

my sweet son. wish he could see himself through our eyes. he's getting there though. he's definitely getting there. i truly believe it's going to be a much better year for him. will he ever know how my heart fills to the point of wanting to burst when i think of him? he deserves to succeed.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

don't know what to believe


sleeping pill, tranquilizer and my regular meds and here i am still waking in the middle of the night.

i've known these memories before. more than 11 years ago in durham. for 4 years i believed and than somehow i managed to forget. the memories became less real, more foreign and harder to believe.

the more i see of my dad today the harder it is for me to even consider this can be true. i know he and mom had troubles at one time. i know that when she was pregnant with my baby sister, she was miserable and depressed. i know that i was dad's *favorite* and the jealousy and abuse that brought from sisters and brothers over the years. i know that mum has admitted dad had an *affair* to everyone but me, and i know that somewhere along the line i became her whipping post.

does it make sense for a father of 9 kids to offer to divorce mum and take you and you alone with him? does it make sense that when, at 13, a man in the neighborhood, without actually *touching* me, molested me, for dad to buy me a pearl necklace? he said it was to remind me i'm loved and he'll protect me.

does it make sense that when josh raped me at 16 dad's reaction was to pull his hand back to hit me and publicly humiliate me? does it make sense that he set himself up over the years as my *protector* against mom and that when i broke down in one of the last hospitals and told him of the things done to me in the woods, and in the pool and in so many other places...he had no reaction at all, nor did he tell mum?

that's not true. he cried. he cried harder than you've ever seen him cry.

how could everyone see i was his favorite but i believed he hated me?

if this isn't real then why has the fear of the shadow in my doorway remained my own memory my whole life? even tho i've only just begun to accept the years before 9 as my own?

how could he present himself as the model father, leader and humanitarian and have done those things? why can i still smell the sticky sweet alcohol odor of his skin?

i know the name the twins spoke before the guardian came out to deny it all. i know i'd rather believe her. i could tell myself these are *screen* memories, meant to cover up something even more difficult to bear, but what? what the hell else is worse than this? of all the kids, why me? why has every little had complete terror at the idea of a daddy?

dr. c said i'm strong enough to process it and accept it now. that's why they came up as they did. i know that my fear and anger with kristen taking off with a boy into the woods triggered this. i know i don't feel strong enough for this. not THIS.

i can't make myself numb to this. i can't drive the feelings away. dissociation is no escape from the hell that i'm fighting to find a way to believe is a lie. the total meltdown that so terrifies me looms like an enormous storm on the horizon.

when dr.c asked how i've been able to hold on when this overwhelmed and panicked before... all i could tell him was the blades. the blades, the bulimia, the rages when my hands would get broken... the other things. nothing safe or peaceful. there are some emotions that just don't turn off once you let them escape.

i've never been so terrified. even the others, seem so far away and foreign. i know reese and stephanie have always known. they, as has always been the *job*, did not force the truth on me.

we have all fought so hard in the last 3 years. fought to know the truth. this, this i cannot fight for. this i don't want.

daddy taught me **trigger**


Daddy taught me how to sing
Daddy taught me how to dance
Daddy taught me to see the beauty in people and accept them as they are
Daddy taught me about generosity
Daddy taught me about sacrifice
Daddy taught me to trust
Daddy taught me to be silly
Daddy taught me to let my imagination soar
Daddy taught me to tell stories
Daddy taught me to learn from my mistakes
Daddy taught me to be strong
Daddy taught me how to lie still and quiet
Daddy taught me to fear the shadows in the hall
Daddy taught me how to ask politely
Daddy taught me what my body is for
Daddy taught me to enjoy the pain
Daddy taught me to lie
Daddy taught me to keep secrets
Daddy taught me what special is and what it is to be the favorite
Daddy taught me every thing
But not how to forget

Friday, February 21, 2014

to the guardian of the twins


just want to let you know that no one will be permitted to try talking with the twins without your approval. they do not need to tell of anything they went thru until you decide they are safe.

there is no one left to harm them and no one who can or would take them away. for the first time there is a truly safe place for all the little ones who have been hurt.

i understand that it seems it would be better for the twins to die rather than take the chance that the threats made to them could happen. the twins are not the only small ones hurt. many of them have shared their terror and pain and have not only stayed safe in the telling, but been truly protected and loved. no one wants to lose the twins. they deserve to know what healthy love is instead of the hurtful twisted lie they were taught.

your job is a hard one and you've done it for close to 30 years. you don't have to do this alone anymore. you aren't alone anymore. there are several of us here who know and understand what it's like to hold such terrible secrets for so long.

you don't know any of us and we don't expect you to hand us your trust without testing us or taking time for us to prove the twins are safe.

this diary as well as other writing programs on this computer and countless notebooks around the house are free for you to use at any time you have anything you need or want to say.

thank you for taking care of the twins. thank you for helping all of us by protecting them. thank you for giving us a chance to know you.

marisa and the Crew

update on the update on the bitch doc


daniel's pediatrician has written his prescription and he's going to help us find a new doctor for him. this whole thing has triggered the crap out of us to the point it's hard to talk or write about.

the important thing is daniel's got what he needs for the time being and he isn't going back to see the hell bitch.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

my manic monday


Okay, not manic, but it sounded better than ‘the day we went apeshit’.

We read the poems to lyn, triggering body and picture memories as well as bringing up all the emotions that go with them. We talked for some time and told her a number of things NO ONE, not even charlie, knows. We talked about the stuff that more or less involved using sexual activity as a form of self-injury/punishment. This is the one area we have never directly approached. There are things that have happened that even tho the memories are there we have never been able to so much at hint at them.

The more we talked the stronger the physical sensations became and the more intense my panic became. At one point I think I steered the subject to something else just long enough o get a little break from the panic. It was becoming harder and harder to *stay* at that point lyn suggested doing a double session and perhaps trying the EMDR. She had the time available that afternoon and was willing to use it with us.

We never got to the EMDR. We were simply never able to pick only one scene with which to start. It was a constant jumble of memories that just got more intense as the time went on.

The last thing I clearly remember was curling up on her couch, crying and saying I didn’t want to go to the hospital. Part of that was the here and now fear that I’d become a danger to myself if we continued, but someone inside (a teen) was convinced that because we were panicked beyond control, someone would use that as an excuse to commit her. After all, it had happened before.

Here’s where it gets fuzzy. Lyn, I think was trying to convince us it was okay to talk about what was going on and that we were in NO danger of having to go to the hospital when a little came out. Based on what her memories of the bedroom were at that time, she has to be only about 3 or 4.

She began going into some detail of what had happened to her. Anytime she said too much or lyn asked a question about the identity of the abuser, she would cry out and say she can’t tell. The belief that if she told, she would be taken away forever by the police, had been firmly planted.

She was not the only to experience this set of events. According to the teenaged protector who came out later, they are twins. One endured the physical act while the other provided the expected verbal responses (“I like this game. It feels good.”) she was not only programmed to ‘enjoy’ it, but also to ask to play ‘the game’.

The more the little ones talk the more intense the distress became. At one point they slid off the couch to curl in a ball on their knees on the floor. The protector came out after one of the littles identified the abuser.

when working with larry in north Carolina, memories of incest surfaced. For 4 years I believed my dad molested me. I cannot begin to explain why we know it was not him. Though I can now accept that someone did do something. I suppose I can’t deny the possibility that it was dad, but I also know the mind of an abuser. A child who knows she is adopted and that she has another daddy out there can easily, at so young an age, be convinced that another person is that other daddy.

I was in no way prepared for this yesterday. I expected to talk about things that I chose to do in my teens. This took me totally by surprise and is something I had truly hoped never happened. It was easier convincing myself that nothing of this sort happened in my little bedroom in dale city, but I can’t anymore. It almost doesn’t matter who did this. The fact that it happened and the damage was done is what truly matters. The lies these littles were told still have to battled no matter who it was who told them.

After I don’t know how long of the littles describing the events, a protector sat up saying “NO! it did not happen!” she was adamant that first of all it wasn’t dad and that second it didn’t happen at all. The more she spoke with lyn the clearer it became. Her job was to keep the secret of what happened by not allowing the ‘twins’ to tell. She would deny or confirm events based on which version would best convince others nothing happened. If saying it did would bring accusations of lies, then she’d say it happened. If someone were more likely to believe, she would deny.

Her other purpose, as she described it to lyn, was to kill the twins if they talked in order to save them having to be ‘taken away’. This is where the role of protector can be confusing. Most protectors have a skewed perception of what real protection is. They can believe that in harming or allowing harm to come they are protecting from something perceived to be worse, in this case being ‘taken away’. In the mind of a 4 year old that is an incredibly ominous and mysterious thing that can seem worse than death.

I don’t know how long they talked. I do know that by the time they went back inside and I came back out, I felt as if I had run a marathon. Lyn said that for the entire time (well over an hour) by body was rigid with every muscle tensed. While the protector (none of them would give a name) was out she had a death grip on the frame of a couch and never once relaxed a bit.

Lyn filled me in on what had occurred in my ‘absence’ and gave me a written list of things we can do to try and reach these others to let them know they are safe. She let me know she had promised the protector that we will make no effort at all, for the time being, to get the twins to talk anymore. We will allow the protector to make the decision on when it is safe for them.

I stood up to go and couldn’t stay steady… I finally backed up and sat down again and just leaned into lyn asking for a hug (99.9% of the time we’ll accept an offer but not ask) and as she wrapped her arms around me she said “and NO going to the hospital! I wouldn’t ever do that to you”. I know she knows we needed to hear that but don’t know if she’s aware how very much we all needed to hear it at that moment.

The rest of the day is something for another entry. Right now it’s time to shower so we can go see dr. c. Here’s hoping FOD is up by this afternoon. I hate doing these entries in word.

bitch doc


between charlie and me, we have called this bitch’s office 4 times and shown up twice. Yesterday was the day when in a waiting room full of people, she refused to give us daniel’s records because she has 60-90 days legally. Whether or not she realizes it, she allowed all the people in that room to hear that even knowing a child is in need, she won’t do the right thing.

Lyn suggested having the pediatrician call her before we consider calling our lawyer. We’ve already left a message for t***, and he’ll get back with charlie today. I’m going to call the pediatrician and talk to him about it while charlie takes the morning off to go sit in the waiting room at summerville behavioral health and make them miserable. The idea of calling the news station’s action line has come up, but I would rather not embarrass Daniel if it can be avoided. He deserves better.

Dr. c has worked with this hell bitch before so he may also have an idea of why she’s being such a piece of shit. I don’t know right now. We’re much calmer but the idea of ripping her arrogant heart out with a rusty spoon is looking more and more attractive…

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

this is not good


still having trouble being steady on my feet. walking like a drunk... just hoping to recover a *little* from yesterday and the shit with daniel's former doc comes up again.

those people are REFUSING to send daniel's records to the pediatrician. why? because DR. E***** C****** of SUMMERVILLE BEHAVIORAL HEALTH was offended that we expected her to move quickly on the transfer of records. she stood there after i mentioned that it should have been taken care of by now, and informed me she had a legal right to hold them for up to 90 days. she is fully aware that daniel is now out of meds and is holding his records hostage because i dared to question the way they handled a situation with daniel several months ago (the reason none of my kids went back there) and had the stupidity to point her finger at me when i did question her and point out that because of MY history with the psychiatric community, I WAS MISUNDERSTANDING the situation and over reacting.

it is not an over reaction to say that she is endangering the welfare of my child by intentionally denying him access to necessary medication.

that bitch is harming my son to make a point to me. there is no lower creature on earth than those who do that to kids. how the hell do i keep from exploding right now?

No one EVER fucks with my kids and she is intentionally harming his physical and mental well being. if this flaming bitch wants a power struggle we will involve our attorney and the news as well as every medical board we can contact. i'll see her license revoked if there is any possible way.

we have to go scream now.

the victor


Hurt me
Hate me
Beat me
Rape me Do what you want
You CAN'T defeat me

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

thief and other poems


He came to steal
To kill and destroy
Hiding inside the eyes
Of girls, men and boys
Words sticky sweet
With lies ages old
and strength to force you
To do as you’re told
Come play a game
Come take a dare
It will only tickle
if I touch you there
what will you give me
to be nice to you
it’s all you are for
those things that you do
unending until
she’s left broken and bruised
willing to follow
and see herself used
crying for the small mercy
to end it in death
that one dream she fights for
is all she has left


betrayed again by this body of sin
filled with want and with hunger
only evil within
punishment waits on the edge of a blade
an escape from this hell
my existence has made


death, my friend, be not a dream
if there is mercy, come for me
stop this flow of pain and rage
for this story is on its final page
end it quickly, end it now
show me the way and tell me how
please offer no time for long goodbyes
the fight is done, I can take no more lies
don’t leave me here I beg I plead
just one last ‘I’m sorry’ is all that I need



to everyone we worried last night, we are sooooo sorry and yes, we are okay.

had a really bad abreaction (a full out flashback with NO awareness of anything else) in session with lyn, so much so that we wound up doing more than a double session (2 1/2 hours) and were able to hear from 4 of the 'sleeping' children who have remained quiet for so long. there is a fifth, i believe, because no knows who wrote the poetry i'm trying to get posted.

last night , whether from exhaustion, confusion, or just major overload, we went kazoo. from what little we remember, the last time we were even close to that screwed up we'd had 26+ oz of long island iced tea (we don't drink anymore) so we could neither walk nor talk and don't know if it was a little or what who sent several ims in gibberish to people.

we are ok and taking the strong suggestion that we stay in bed as much as possible today.

we'll go into more detail as we can about the actual events, but i have to talk to lyn to find out what they were first.

we are ok and doing what we need to to take care of us. can't tell you all how much your concern means to the whole crew. LOVE YOU!

Monday, February 17, 2014

use me


Once again she’s on her knees
To satisfy the lustful needs
Even she herself cannot deny
Her willingness is not a lie
She trades her dignity for affection
Self-worth and pride for a little attention
Hands in places they don’t want to be
Living life in chains pretending she’s free
Hormones and hunger feeding the action
The heart dispassionately feigning reaction
Flesh in flesh, the mind runs away
It no longer matters, she’s dead anyway



Silently screaming a voiceless pain
Of lost innocence and peace again and again
Stripped bare of hope, now unclean and shamed
she was left as a nothing without even a name


Nevermore and forevermore
Left bleeding there upon the floor
Draining away the life and care
Drowning in a whispered prayer

Sunday, February 16, 2014

mom's gift


duck your head and hide your face
the blows come fast and hard
it doesn’t matter why they come
for there’s never time to run
fists full of hair and shoes on the back
full of fire the rage just rains down
the fire of hatred and hailstones of pain
scattering shards of a shattered heart
while venomous words blow them further away
til one day there’s no more to be broken
leaving only the shadowy vacuous eyes
and the sounds of the still beating heart

caution: sharp turns and rocks ahead


well, it finally happened...

while the diary site was down someone had a writing streak and today i forced myself to read them aloud to lyn. i told her of things we've never ever spoken aloud to anyone. the following is the entry i wrote this morning before heading to her office.

gets so tiring sometimes. We seem to get to a somewhat stable place (though stable is way more stable than it was a year ago) we get slammed again. I know it’s partly the process and partly the fact that we’re so driven to keep moving forward, but damn, does it get frustrating. Spent all of yesterday switching back and forth while one of the teens did some writing. The poems were way triggering for most of us, but at least it’s a start on tiptoeing into that area.

See lyn today. We’ll see how that goes. I know if I show her the poems she’ll make sure that anytime I try to change the subject, she’ll direct me back to it. Oh joy.

we'll just get these poems in here before we chicken out and try to write about the day before the exhaustion takes over again.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

where has the innocence gone


curling up inside my head
to find my safety
under covers in bed quietly listening for the sounds
of who knows what
as thoughts keep going round don’t let me stay here
hidden and quiet
alone with just my fear before the monster shows its face
set me free from this
let me vanish without a trace hear the footsteps in the hall
feel its breath and smell its skin
as it comes to find its little doll silently she slips away
leaving only a shell
for with the monster to play do what you will and what you must
you can no longer touch her
for her soul’s turned to dust

and here we are, yet again


do not kill the kid. do not kill the kid. do not kill the kid.

we have a few house rules...
no disappearing without an adult knowing where you'll be. (no giving messages to child alters!)
no dating until the age of 16
any boy who wants to *go with* a daughter (we'll hold our boys to this too) must meet both parents.
no being alone with a member of the opposite sex before age 16.

kristen's life as she now knows it, is over. she is fervently praying that her father is calmer than we were when he gets home.

granted, our emotional reaction has a LOT to do with our own experiences and the fact that much of *that* part of our life has not yet been approached. with that in mind, playing with fire is still playing with fire. it starts with the very innocent hand holding and just keeps going. once you have reached a point with one person, you won't think twice about doing it with another until eventually, you are doing things either thinking 'what happens to others won't happen to me' or caving to peer/boyfriend pressure.

just because i was held down in the back seat of a car and raped by my best friend, doesn't mean it will happen to kristen. just because 3 of 4 female cousins on one side of the family got pregnant before 17 doesn't mean it will happen to kristen. HOWEVER, if she doesn't take the steps that will get her into the back seat of a car (or wherever) to start with, it's far less likely to be an option. no, we can't protect her from, say a random act, but we CAN protect her, even if only a little, from the STUPIDITY induced by hormones and physical stimuli.


that's it. i'm taking carol burnett's advice. they're all just going into a medically induced coma at 13 then taken to a deserted island and released back into the wild at 21...

Friday, February 14, 2014

3 questions


-how many waking hours a day am i in the bedroom?
-how disordered is that room (scale of 1-10)?
-how much money am i spending on *stuff*?

stuff being defined as anything there is not an immediate need for. right now, it's mostly craft stuff. too much time is being spent collecting stuff we don't have time to sit and use.

needed to put these questions in a central location for us. kind of a daily mental check-up. the higher our stress level the more time we spend in the room, the worse the room looks and the more money is spent when we go out.

doesn't help that when the stress is high, i honestly cannot always account for where i've been or how much was spent. still, i see the result (plastic bags in every corner of the room) and it's been habit for so long to try to *cover* these purchases (which aren't a lot by themselves, but add up FAST) and so they get put away or stuffed somewhere and instead of knowing what we have to play with now, it just gets worse because if we think we have it but can't find it, it just gets replaced.

i know, no different from the average spend-a-holic, but just like any other addiction it's hell to KNOW you've got a problem and be powerless to control it.

no offense to the twelve steppers, but we couldn't get sober in the program and aren't sure the traditional path will do it here either.

time to hand the debit card and checkbook to charlie. whoopie...

i hate what i'm writing


it almost feels cruel... the things i wish i could say to family. even understanding that it's just therapeutic ranting, a way to let off steam, doesn't make it feel better.

back in the hospital in fayetteville, there was a day when i took the chance to vent. they had been trying to get me to verbalize feelings of anger the whole time we'd been there. being pregnant didn't help the emotional stability a bit.

we'd just spent a weekend on pass at home with charlie. we'd had an argument and i was angry with him. so, i vented in group. big, big, BIG mistake. we ended up saying everything we'd held inside since the beginning of our marriage and toward the end one of the people in the group attacked.

not physically, but i wish she had. she spent the rest of the time telling me what a selfish, loveless, worthless piece of shit i was. she screamed at me that i lied when i said i loved my husband and verbally thrashed me without rebuke from either of the staff members present. the more i tried to defend myself, the more vicious she got and when we gave up and curled into a ball in the chair we were attacked even more for trying to get sympathy attention.

it hurts just thinking about it. a classic example of why we've had such a hard time accepting it's okay to feel anger. it's why it had to be seperated into other parts of me. no wonder there is so much still unspoken and such fear of letting it be seen. even writing these letters, i know some random asshole will feel the need to fly through and ream us for writing them. even knowing that the anonymous deserve no recognition, doesn't ease the fear of being condemned again and again and again.

it won't stop us. we need to do this.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

letters continued



this may not be the last letter i'll have to write to you. there are too many things i can't yet say.

never have i felt such burning hatred for another life. knowing how incredibly special you see yourself, it should be pleasing to know that in our eyes you stand out as being the only truly evil human we've had the misfortune to meet. yes wendy, in that respect you are truly unique.

as far as my family is concerned, you no longer exist. you are not family, friend, or aquaintance. you are a disgusting virus so foul and evil we have vaccinated our family from you and you can no longer even touch us. if you ever try again i can guarantee that everything you know we are capable of and everything those who know us were suprised we didn't do before this, will happen. you will never again come toe to toe with me and be able to walk away.

it is as if you simply aren't there. the infection set in from our family's exposure to you is being cleansed and will leave no trace of you having ever touched our lives.

may you rot alone in your vicious insanity,


having read this over a few times.... it is SO hard to resist the urge to remove the 'threatening' bit and send the sucker. it would SO rock her sick little world and send her into a frezy that would drive her over the edge. the spiteful glee this thought gives us is exactly why we won't give in. but oh, is it ever hard. God, please tell me we don't have a time limit for forgiving this one...

letters i'll never send



people change over time. it's sad as hell that it took a crack induced aneurism for you to change. worse is that it wasn't even a good change. there is no sympathy for someone who chooses the life you've chosen. you could have had a complete recovery and been a real father to your children. instead you chose what you've wanted your entire life. to do nothing and have the government support you while you feed off your elderly mother's protective bent for her 40 yo baby.

grow the hell up and get a job dip-shit.


Wednesday, February 12, 2014

just for fun... the animal in you



if you take the short test here, it may give you more than one animal you resemble. it *says* that you can only be one, but we know better. the following is our results, starting with me, marisa... (pay attention to the bit about children near the end)

Genera and species: Amblonyx Cinerea
Collective Term: A prank of otters
Otters are petite, engaging creatures overflowing with positive energy. Intelligent and bright, they are also popular and eminently lovable and displaying the highly developed social skills that typify the small carnivores. So, otters mix easily with a wide range of animal personalities.

Lazy? Let's just say easily distracted. For life has so many diversions for the otter, that whether it's playing a computer game, reading a book, or doing a crossword puzzle, it's impossible to predict how it will fill it's day. But when an otter gets focused on a problem, it's keen intelligence rises to the challenge and it will not give up until the nut is cracked. Otters feel entitled to the good things in life and a general sense of well being gives them the confidence to not have to save for the future. A lover who wants to impress an otter should know that otters love to eat out and have a predictable penchant for sushi.

Although intelligent and witty, otters have a tendency to suffer from self-doubt, and fear of failure can prevent them from living up to their true potential. Still, they are a great problem solvers, with the ability to spend endless hours on abstract or practical challenges. As workers, they are dedicated and capable and always eager for a chance to prove themselves. Their determination makes them valuable employees and although they often feel that their contributions are undervalued, they would rather accept lower pay than risk confrontations in their workplace. Although they are fine motivators, they avoid taking leadership roles, performing better in group situations with their social skills coming in handy when counseling coworkers through their problems. Their dexterous hands are useful in a wide range of careers, and they're ideally suited for work in engineering, advertising, and design.

There is no question that the otter is going to have children. Lots of them. And this otherwise carefree individual will surprise you with its strict and disciplined approach to child raising.

Otters are certainly not shy. Their highly advanced communication skills explain why friends flock to it for advice and why ex-lovers find it so hard to let it go. But sometimes it seems that relating to an otter is a one-way street; for otters hate criticism. It's not that they don't believe there's room for improvement -- it's just that they tend to confuse criticism with rejection. Friends must step lightly lest they wound the otter's self-image, for this is the surest way to dissuade the otter from further communication.

reese's animal

Genera and species: Dasypeltis Scabra
Collective Term: A twist of snakes
Pity the cold-blooded snakes. Without arms, wings or flippers, they are forced to slink through life in a solitary quest for warmth and acceptance. Shy and insecure, they must keep a low profile to avoid the disapproving glances and teasing of others. Of course, their poisonous wit and quick tongues help to keep tormentors at bay.

As a child its small frame was no defense against the taunts of the playground bullies, so its sharply vicious attacks were adopted as means of protection. Snakes have no illusions about getting breaks in life and while they see doors opening for others, they have resigned themselves to staying in their lowly, entry level positions. So don't try and humor the snake, for it has reconciled itself to its subservient position.

With their intimate connection to the earth and their unique perspective on life, snakes have learned to express themselves through their art. Whether writers, moviemakers or painters, they are obsessively meticulous about their craft. Every now and then, one makes an impact on the art world and is thrust into the spotlight. But the snake recoils from the glare of publicity, and its behavior becomes even more erratic than usual. Woody Allen, the proverbial snake, comes to mind.

In winter, the cold-blooded snake is miserable. It just can't cope in the low temperature that seeps in through its thin skin, affecting its mood and sapping its energy. Prone to colds and flu, they are pathetic sights as they snivel and cough throughout the season. But when summer returns with its warmth and light, the snakes' moods brighten and their spirits soar. Snakes are not fussy about their choice of jobs. As cold blooded personalities they perform best when given warmth and kindness and will accept almost any job, provided they feel secure and trusted. However, if they feel mistrusted, they live up to their reputation and return the disloyalty. Consequently, they are often relegated to menial jobs in the fast-food industry or as unskilled labor.

It's not easy for snakes to disguise themselves. Even their speech betrays their reptilian heritage -- for snakes often have a slight lisp or stutter. This doesn't do much to help their self-esteem and they're more likely to spend their evenings quietly at home, than boogying down in a nightclub.

amelia's animal

Genera and species: Tursiops Truncatus
Collective Term: A school of dolphins
Dolphins are those tanned, fit, and beautiful people who populate the background scenes of Baywatch. While they can give the impression that they're not the brightest lights in the harbor, their sun- bleached hair belies a fierce intelligence. This misperception stems from the fact that they've chosen a life of hedonism rather than succumbing to the rat race of their land-bound cousins.

Dolphins are annoyingly healthy; eating and drinking with abandon and never becoming overweight. Undoubtedly it's their active lifestyles that keep them so trim, but their good genes have something to do with it too; for even though dolphins subsist n junk food, their hair is shiny and their skin always glossy.

Generally, dolphins are peaceful and gregarious individuals, almost never displaying open aggression. When accosted, they'll swim away rather than engage in negative behavior and are always on the lookout for friends to join them in recreation. They love to host elaborate parties or social events and take their fun seriously. Dolphin were not designed for manual labor. Their bodies lack the skillful hands of the land mammal personalities, but their intelligence and social abilities give them advantages in people-oriented careers.


interestingly, this one was also one of the possibilities for both reese and i...
Genera: Pteropus
Collective Term: A cauldron of bats
This is a decidedly unconformist creature, for as an airborne personality, the bat tends to look down at the conventions of the ground animals. And yet, since it is not a true bird and having not mastered the art of smooth controlled flight, it often appears awkward in social situations. (Hence the term -- acting batty). But as compensation for this social ungainliness, many bat personalities sport a built-in radar, which enables them to intuitively read the motivations of others.

Identifying bat personalities is not difficult. Being nocturnal creatures, they come alive at night and can be spotted in underground clubs or dimly lit bars. They prefer the sanctuary of dark clothing and dark corners, and you'll never see a bat sporting a heavy tan. These are intelligent, spiritual, creative individuals who use their full range of senses (other than their poor eyesight) to carefully navigate their way through life.

Bats have a habit of flitting in and out of social situations, swooping down to interact briefly with others before quickly flying off to resume their bat lives. Unassertive and aloof, they'll take flight at the first hint of a confrontation to seek comfort in their personal spaces that are decorated in unusual but expressive ways. The bat's sixth sense gives it a number of advantages in its work, and its insightful nature enables it to understand others better than it understands itself.

In the romance department, bats are enamored with the idea of love more than they are with its colder realities. Decidedly untraditional, they are prone to flights of extraordinary fantasy.

Bat personalities have an enormous sense of loyalty and if you ever do a favor for a bat, it will never relax until it has paid you back. In fact, in nature, the bat is the only animal (other than man) to demonstrate true altruism when unrelated individuals will unselfishly offer food to a cave-mate without expectation anything in return. This powerful sense of quid pro quo is one of the defining characteristics of the bat personality and anyone should consider themselves lucky to be in a bat's good graces.

Bats have no strong yearning for parenthood, for the kind of ego gratification that comes with having one's own children doesn't appeal to its karmic temperament. They are instead quite content to satisfy their maternal or paternal instincts by adopting or merely baby-sitting. If they do have children, they prove to be perfunctory parents: methodical yet unconventional . Still, bats place great emphasis on ethics and morality and insist that their children be indoctrinated in the values of good citizenship.

we actually missed a day!!!


things are a bit better. today is daniel's 8th birthday. he was absolutely thrilled and is exSCREAMly excited. he received a complete model rocket set.... yes, giving pyrotechnic toys to an ADHD child is deranged, but i don't care. *grins* if he doesn't wind up being a lawyer (this kid can argue and find loopholes like no one we've EVER heard of) he'll go into aerospace for certain.

daniel's birthday happens to be the anniversary of the most intense hurricane ever to hit the charleston, sc area... yet another example of God's sense of humor.

very proud of myself for being able to walk into daniel's psych doc's office to ask for and sign the release forms. they are being asses tho. even after being told the information needed to be faxed that day, the pediatrician's office has received nothing. grrrrrr.

*feeling a rant coming on*

before we do that... wanted to mention how dr. c and lyn have responded to this past weeks events. *that's another rant, but a funny one* they were both so PROUD of us. rawr. we're swimming in icky emotions up to our scalp and they're patting us on the back for handling it so well. oh, so it's good that we're emotionally flailing like a fish out of water? well, you and the horse you rode in on pal.

we know it's all good. really, but when you're detailing the incredible shit storm you've suddenly found yourself slammed with, you don't want your therapy team grinning like a cheshire cat!

anyway, lots to write about but need to go make sure daniel's not blowing something up first.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

another day another kick in the head


daniel's appt didn't go as planned. the psychiatrist who originally treated him never bothered to send any info to the pediatrician. by law he can't write a scrip for daniel until the psych does. he wanted to know why the kids weren't seeing them anymore tho it was clear that daniel's depressive symptoms are gone. i didn't want to tell him...

i HATE doctors. charlie's in savannah today so it will be tomorrow at the earliest before he can call what's her face and tell her to send her findings to the peds doc. in the meantime, daniel needs an extended day dose and has to wait, so i'll be shitting bricks every time the phone rings because daniel may have found himself in the principal's office and they made it clear yesterday they don't believe he's on meds or that i give a shit about his problems in school. can't even talk to his teacher because now we're pissed and the last thing we need is for stephanie to go off. for all her claims that the kids aren't *hers* she's an awful lot like a mama bear about them. don't screw with my kids.

dr. c worked us in for this evening. talked to lyn this am and filled her in... yeah, we're safe at the moment but i've gone from almost productive to pretty useless as far as practical things are concerned. beginning to feel like harley's taken on the house and kids stuff and not feeling right about it. i know i need to rest, but there is a long ugly history about letting people help us out. we generally get pretty screwed and so capt. paranoia's on the war path (is he ever not?)

i need a nap if we're going to make to the appointment today. god help us if we forget again.



no matter what it always happens. do the right thing, get screwed. do the wrong thing, get screwed. no matter what it's always our fault. WHY? nad it's not like anyone ever gives a shit that we're hurt, ya know? doesn't matter what. it's our fault. i can't make ANYTHING better! i can't fix ANYTHING! i can't get anything RIGHT! i'm just so tired of trying. so tired of feeling like i gotta rip myself apart just because somebody else isn't happy.

it's not fair. it sucks and i'm tired of it. i don't want to beat my head against a wall i'm never gonna get thru, ya know?

when she told marisa that she liked hearing about 'the girls' (us) she never stopped to think that maybe we don't want her knowing. you hurt me you lose me. especially when you pull that 'this is how it's really your fault' shit.

i'm tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired


Monday, February 10, 2014

if you eat a live frog in the morning


nothing worse can happen to either of you for the rest of the day.

dear motown


it took a lot of guts for you to call yesterday. the fact that you tried a few minutes before and hung up shows how hard it was for you to do. i am truly sorry that you were not able to have the resolution you were looking for. we know it's just as important to you that the two of us can work through this. it's heartbreaking to know that in telling you we need time to process our hurt and anger, you are being hurt again.

i don't see how it can be handled any differently.

when this began, when we both crossed the boundaries of healthy friendship, when you began to depend on our experience and we began to need to help fix things, we both got overloaded. when we realized what was happening and what our part in it was, we contacted you to apologize and accept responsibility. we asked your forgiveness and gave our word we wouldn't cross that boundary again. in doing that i forgot that me and my system were not the only ones to have made choices that hurt the other. instead, we took the full portion of responsibility.

in the two conversations we've had since then, until yesterday, you told us that talking to us caused you confusion (wouldn't you take that personally?) and when we shared about something extremely important and exciting with you, you simply stated it would trigger you and closed the door on further conversation. despite having given my word, you read into that a suggestion that you needed to do as we were doing, so rather than rejoice with us, you told us you couldn't handle it. would that not hurt you?

i'm not saying that you should know my triggers and read my mind. i'm saying that just as our actions had a negative and hurtful effect on you, so yours did to us.

talking to you yesterday, the moment we told you this was something we did not know how to deal with, you began to analyze our reactions in order to tell us that we needed to change. while it is true that we need to heal from the particular hurt this brought up, by doing so you denied that your actions could hurt another while at the same time telling us how our actions hurt you. in doing so you minimized the validity of our feelings. why is it not okay for us to have the same right to feel pain that you do?

our IM's were ignored and attempts to communicate were brushed off and we were left hanging with no idea of where our friendship stood. i was honest yesterday in saying we love you, we want you in our lives and we will contact you. it was not a rejection, though i don't doubt that it felt that way. can you understand that just as we would never ever hurt you with intent, that just as it can still happen, so can you hurt us? it doesn't have to have been intentional. it just is.

i don't expect things to be perfect. i do expect to be given the same right to be hurt that you have. i do expect to be given the space to work through just as you needed. i do not expect to be treated as if my pain and confusion are somehow less real or important than yours simply because we've come further or are different or because you can't face that you weren't the only one wounded in this.

we're not asking you to do as we did and say "I'm sorry I hurt you." we're asking you to accept that we too need the right to heal in our own time and our own way.

again, i can't tell you how deeply we regret all of this and how much we wish we could erase both our mistakes and just carry on. we can't change what has happened, but that doesn't mean we can't both use this as a chance to grow and heal.

i need the time to do that.

with love,


dragged back into the black hole


*sighs* know that this is all part of the process, but does it ever suck.

got hurt by a close offline friend who also happens to be DID. long story but that's going to have to be our first letter. her call yesterday opened up THE can of worms and she couldn't accept that we need time to process both the hurt from this as well as the stuff it stirred up. she signed off yahoo for the first time in 4-5 months today, which tells me that she's 'shutting' a door in retaliation. it's just as well... seeing her name on my list over the last 2 months has caused an ache because i knew she'd ignore me if i IM'd her.

don't want to cry. really letting the tears flow happens so rarely that when it does, it's hours or even days before they stop. i hate that we're in this place. even knowing it's where we need to be for healing of this shit, is no consolation.

for now... it's going to take every ounce of what we have to just write these letters. after all that got stirred... there's going to be a hell of a lot of them.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

common threads


dr. c, in his inimitable laid back style, once mentioned that every multiple he's ever treated had, within their system, a common thread. something each and every alter has in common. for some it may be a character trait, for others it may be a trigger.

well, with one ring of the phone today, we stepped up to our eyeballs in our wildly tangled common thread.

for the first time since we locked up the feelings around the fiasco that was the counseling relationship with pastor R and pat, it landed like a friggin anvil (yeah, another cartoon analogy) on my head.

for the first time in a year, we found ourselves in a place of having NO ONE inside able to step in because it screwed us ALL up.

tried explaining to charlie (who, by what i'm convinced was not just a luck up, was home 3 hours early) that while i was wanting desperately to run *inside* and hide from the weight of the emotion, there was no one else who could take control. it's good, in that i didn't run and hide. i stayed with it rather than leaving charlie with a shell of his wife with the glassy stare and waxy limbs of a catatonic, for who knows how long. i stayed. not to say it was harder than anyone else's job. everyone was equally screwed today. the ones who weren't triggered (the 3 helpers) were busy trying to keep everyone else from giving into their various impulses. (ranging from slamming our head into the 6 inch, solid oak posts at the foot of the bed to walking out the second story window) seriously thought we'd be headed to the hospital tonight.

*back to the cartoons again* it's like grabbing the tail of sylvester only to find it's really a panther, and he's really pissed.

i'm comparing this life to a cartoon... but at the moment it's just about as unreal.

upside. upside. there's ALWAYS a damned upside! finally know beyond a doubt that the one thing every single one of us, from the biggest pieces to the tiniest slivers of this broken mirror. the ONE thing that no matter what happened, this was the bottom line...

if it's good we'll ruin it and if it's bad it's our fault.

no matter how many of us learn that's not true, it seems there are always more who know it is. it's the one lie that never gets diminished, no matter how many times we tell ourselves the truth.

so there's the common thread. the one *hurt* that we ALL share. the queen mother of big ass, ugly lies. the last missing piece to the puzzle... only we haven't got enough together to know where it goes yet.

why can't it just be as simple as saying, 'no, i'm NOT shit/poison/your choice here.'?

i know, somewhere inside there is the knowledge of where to go from here. something we'll be able to do together. i know we're headed in the right direction but somebody came and turned out all the lights today. now we can't even see the step we're on! maybe it's because we just need to rest here before moving on.

God, i hope so, because now you're up to 1500 years of sleep you owe me in heaven.

'God's complaint department, Job speaking...'


pet peeve: feeling like i couldn't remember where my butt is without a map and compass!

dr. c called around 12:30... "did you forget we had an appointment?"

ummmm, yup.

we have a standing appointment on wednesdays at 11. if we have to miss it we always call. tomorrow dr. c is giving a deposition and so we had to reschedule for this week. did i write it down? NO! of course not. that would make SENSE! unless there are at least 15 notes and verbal reminders about ANYTHING that's not a habit! it gets forgotten. *poof* walk out the door of the office and it's gone, like that.

you'd think that with all of us in here SOMEONE could remember something... but NOOOOO, it's the other way around! no one remembers anything about life in the here and now. samantha, you're the record keeper, can't you help out here? why, no. she only records what has already happened, not the stuff that needs to happen.


i could ask one of the younger ones, but then i'd probably have it written in crayon somewhere or on a piece of paper in a pocket that ends up going thru the washer... reese will remember an appointment with lyn but since she tries to avoid anything to do with doctors she avoids even remembering apptointments. even for the kids. can't tell you how many times we've missed appointments with the pediatrician, and i swear somebody in here goes out of their way to distract us from remembering a dentist appointment.

same with appointments with teachers. the only one not intimidated is stephanie and she would tell them go to hell so we usually try to talk charlie into dealing with that. (that messes up his work day though and since he's the One Man Answer Team, they fall apart when he's not there.) same thing with dropping by the church during the week... no crowd of people means greater risk of actually having to have a conversation with someone. you know, the kind that don't involve obscene hand gestures? can't have that!

of course, no real rest makes the holes in this strainer-brain even bigger so i'm amazed i can even remember... oh shit, i forgot what i'm remembering.

having visions of the red hairy monster from the bugs bunny cartoon... screaming and running thru walls... do you hear that sound??? it's the one teeny tiny little brain cell i have left shouting "you can see for MILES in here!"