Sunday, March 30, 2014

in response


to a man who has, for several years now, hosted a series of pages and message forums devoted entirely to claiming that DID/MPD, recovered memories, or treatment of ANY kind for psychiatric reasons, to be not only invalid, but *contrary to the Word of God*

if Christianity is triggering or offensive for you, this is where you might want to stop reading.

we first saw this site (i will not link to it) last year when this man posted links in several message forums for littles (alters younger than 9). we were outraged, hurt and so upset we nearly had a fight with charlie over his refusal to hack this guy's site and take it down.

in doing some research on FAQ's about DID or relating to someone with DID, we happened upon this site. this man does all this in the name of God, which is a perfect example of the hypocrisy that turns so many from religion. he further shows his truly hateful nature in the 'attack of the MPD's' game on his site. the purpose of which is to zap the therapists and DIDers *invading* the earth and save it from destruction thru deception. yeah folks, this guy is for real. this guy's message forums are not intended for true debate on the validity of DID or recovered memory, but rather a place where he can bait multiples into an emotional argument he can throw scripture and finger pointing into, in hopes of proving the *sin* nature of multiples.

anyway, we wrote a response to one of his rantings and want to post it here. there is no anger or offense here. more a tremendous sadness for someone whose own wounds fuel his own nightmare....

Check out the newspapers. Also check out the talk shows, or your neighborhood therapy group.

I find it sadly interesting that these areas are where you tell people to look for evidence that those with DID use it as an excuse to escape responsibility for their sin. The first two involve secular media, clearly a bad choice when one is seeking truth. As to the local therapy groups, the simple fact is, that wounded people are often so busy taking responsibility for the lies their woundedness has planted in their hearts, that they are not immediately able to take responsibility for their own choices and actions. Learning to accept responsibility is part of not only the healing process but the walk of one who follows Christ.

The first concern I have about your site is the blatant and proud hatred you sow. The game at the bottom of the first page is beyond cruel and is the equivalent of a game for klansmen to play at lynching those they also hate. (My spell check tells me that klansmen is a *proper* noun. I refuse to capitalize such a heinous word). The second concern is the lack of not only truly scriptural backing you have for your beliefs but the questionable sources of physical evidence and proof of your statements. They too are just as fallible hard to prove as the stories from multiples you so angrily point a finger at. There are a number of scriptures it would be tempting to point out about loving your brother, casting judgments, and taking splinters from your brother’s eye that come to mind. As well versed as you seem to be, you should have no trouble locating them.

Paul said that when he was a child he spoke as a child, understood as a child, and thought as a child but when he became a man, he put away childish things. (1 Corinth. 13:11) Before I get to the point of that verse, it is recommended you read the entire chapter as well. This is not a matter of taking one verse out of context. The simple fact is that you, and I only know in part and it will be before God in Heaven when we will know, face to face the entirety of His Word, His love, His truth. This same chapter also reminds us that these three remain; faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love.

As to the verse paraphrased above; the phrase 'put away' is literally translated to 'render harmless'. Is that not what turning from the sins of the world does? Is that not what filling your heart with scripture that negates the enemy's attacks of condemnation does? Faith comes by hearing. We speak the scripture aloud so that it comes to the brain through both the eyes and ears. As its truth takes root in our hearts we are able to answer the one who taunts because we have trusted in His word (Psalm 119:42). The lies of the worthlessness and filth or stupidity of those who have been wounded in life, that you feed in your site, are the very lies the enemy would want a wounded person to believe. Because of God's grace and wisdom, WE are able to shrug off that which resembles the lies the enemy has filled our life with and embrace instead the words of God.

Can any of you say with honesty that you have never behaved in a childish manner in your adult years? Of course you have. We are human, created in God’s image but imperfect because of sin. Anyone who has suffered trauma, whether abuse related or not, carries it with them until, by the Grace of God and our Lord Jesus Christ, that sorrow is healed. The very mechanism of dissociation that is at the heart of DID is something everyone does to some extent in their lives. Highway hypnosis being a classic example, but more recently we heard stories from survivors of 9-11 speaking of being in the stairwell only to find themselves four miles away with no memory of having got there. People in the moments before an accident may describe feeling as if time had stopped or drastically slowed in the moments before impact. That is also dissociation. A child living with repetitive trauma will learn to escape the unbearable through dissociation.

That does not mean that the memory has to be blocked, only to be ‘recovered’ years later. In my case, most of the abuse was never forgotten, only the emotions and the acceptance that those things had happened to *me* were locked away. When one is hurt as a child the emotional growth is often stunted (that would be a soul, rather than physical or spiritual, issue), causing that person to retain the childishness within them for many years. Phobias are a very good example of that. When Christ is given authority over that event, the maturation of emotional responses can be accomplished. It is highly doubtful that anyone on this list can say they have not one area of their life that does not resemble a child more than an adult. It doesn't even have to be related to trauma. A child coddled and petted their entire lives will remain childish throughout his or her life because they were never taught to grow as one should.

To address the concept of emotional healing being a soul issue; we know we are created in the image of God, correct? In His image in that He is three in one with The Father, The Son (who is the body), and the Holy Spirit. We also are three in one with a soul (our mind, will and emotions), a physical body, and our spirit, which belongs only to God and cannot be divided. It is the soul that is left wounded by trauma (the word trauma means any event which has a powerfully damaging effect. It does NOT have to be abuse).

The soul of a man is often referred to as his ‘heart’. When we are sorrowful or wounded we are said to be brokenhearted. The word brokenhearted appears only twice in the bible as one word. (Isaiah 61:1, Luke 4:18) All other references to a broken heart are two words. The literal translation for ‘broken hearted’ is sorrowful. In the original texts the word ‘brokenhearted’ is translated to fractured or broken soul. That, my friends, is exactly what DID is. Because Christ came to heal and not to condemn, there is no fear that He would turn away from healing the brokenness of my soul. There is not one promise in scripture I have not seen the Lord fulfill. Just as much as you may despise us (scriptures about brothers turning against brothers come to mind), God loves even the multiple.

He does not require me to be one mind. He forgives the fact that I am a ‘double minded’ person, because He is slow to anger and knows the cry of my heart is wholeness in Christ. Just as Jesus reached out to the very dregs of humanity in His walk on this earth, so does God reach even the shamed and broken. One is not required to be perfect in order to be acceptable in God’s eyes. He sees us as He created us, as we are and as we will be. He knows the journey we take and has lovingly provided both Christian and secular people to travel with me. As with Much Afraid in Hind’s Feet on High Places, these people have been sent by the Great Shepherd, not to heal me, for only God can do that. Not even to ‘guide’ me, for it is His Word which guides this healing, but to be my companions and friends on this walk. They are there to help direct (even the agnostic doctor has yet to advise anything contrary to scripture) and to be by my side when my enemy would try to attack.

Yes, I am many. Yes, I bear guilt and shame for the evil done to me. I take responsibility for the sins committed by choice, no matter which ‘part’ of me chose. They are all parts of me, like a broken mirror that remains in its frame. There are no ‘lost’ pieces. God knew me before I was formed. He knew that this child of rape would live a very hard life. He knew that every pedophile I came across would recognize an easy target. He knew that I would be wounded by people I don’t call my abusers. They are my adoptive mum and dad. Two incredible, giving and sincere people who loved in the best way they knew how. Two people who, even at their worst never intended harm or to leave lasting scars. They too were imperfect children of God. They still are. In part because of my multiplicity, not only have my parents sought healing for their hearts (not through counseling but through their faith in Jesus) and forgiveness for sins committed in ignorance, it has brought a family of 11 closer because we were all able to acknowledge that as hard as we tried, we were not the perfect family. We have all done things for which we need forgiveness. In the 3 years since the ‘official’ diagnosis, this family has moved far closer in relationship to one another and to God.

This process has validated me as a child of the King, has taught me oh, so much about God’s perfect love, about truly trusting all things to Him. No mere man can sway *us* from our path to wholeness. Were I to die tonight, it would be one spirit who would stand before God and only one soul. I know that whatever imperfection remains when I stand before Him, will have already been healed. Until I do stand before Him, it is my responsibility to give each piece of myself over to Him (bottom line, it’s no different than being saved while still holding onto sin. We must choose to hand it to Him and repent that we may be healed), to heal and put back in its rightful place. Father God has given me many gifts, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I have witnessed His mighty works, in the form of broken bones healed as we(my pastor’s wife and I) watched my daughter’s shattered and purple face, return to normal in moments. He can do ALL things and I long ago ceased questioning or angrily condemning that which I do not understand.

I do not understand why only one part of me has a heart murmur, or why some are severely allergic to things others aren’t, or why the astigmatism in both eyes only shows up when a certain ‘part’ takes the yearly eye exam. I do not understand why these terrible things in my past had to happen, but I know that it will ultimately be to His Glory because that which the enemy desires for evil, God can bring to His Glory. I know that because of scars on my arms and the things I’ve been through, I can be a vessel for God to do His work. Like Dave Roever, my scars are a bridge between the wounded and the Love Of Christ. We do not feel compelled to offer ‘proof’ of our multiplicity, nor do we care if you refer to us in the singular. We are accountable to God for our shortcomings and wrongdoings. We are accountable for how we live no matter what has happened or how hard it is to turn these things over to Him. I will answer to Him for every hateful word I think, speak or write. As will you.

The Body of Christ has been at war with one another from the days of Paul. There is no light that can be shed through a cover of darkness. Salvation and freedom can never come from hatred and bitterness. For all the people who have been hurt or outraged by the pages here, it is those who propagate this shameful example of Wisdom in God or Love in Christ who will truly pay the price.

May God have mercy on you,

Marisa and Crew

reaction vs. response


here is a good argument for writing when you get upset, before acting on your feelings

if i hadn't written out what was going on inside... how it felt or had just stuffed it down out of reach, it would have come out in anger toward charlie and he would have reacted and we'd have had a fight instead of the productive discussion we had.

here's the reaction to being upset today, written just before charlie and i talked:

i'm tired. i need sleep. i need to rest. the only thing that stops the coughing is sleeping. charlie told me last night that this is like the cough he had last year that put him to bed for awhile. he read the entries up until yesterday evening and even after reading that he still is acting grouchy toward me for laying down. he needed to work today but took the day off because yesterday was so bad. i'd rather he not stay home if he's going to resent taking the day off because of me. i'd rather suffer thru the day alone than to have him in the house ignoring my presence except when i get in his way.

i am pissed about the fact that he knew how shitty i feel and when kris woke me up to remind me she needed to have her bookbag picked up before 5:30, i asked charlie if he could take her. his response was 'i'll do it because i know you don't want to. if you wanted to you wouldn't have asked.' granted, he threw a quick 'and i know you don't feel well' in there after he realized what an ass he was sounding like, but it was pretty much too late. i took her and took john to spend his birthday money as well. if i hadn't gone, charlie would not have remembered that part and it was my promise to take him anyway.

i am so pissed. no, really i'm hurt. being sick triggers me badly and i get the feeling he's pulling one of his 'sink or swim' routines, trying to tell me to just get over it. i'm hurt that he has spent the entire day at the computer ignoring me and the kids unless he's pissed. i'm trying not to cry because there is too much to do and crying will only irritate him. he's in *that* mood right now.

i shouldn't have to ask permission to rest when i'm sick. i shouldn't be made to feel guilty if i do and at the moment i feel completely and utterly abandoned by everyone in this house. abandoned, alone, brushed off, disregarded, worthless, selfish. shit shit shit

here's the response:

feel so shitty. i hate being sick. it upsets the entire system because it wasn't allowed as a kid. there are just so many raw emotions on the subject. i feel pressured to keep up with the house, which i couldn't do before i got sick. getting further and further behind just starts the whole 'failure/not good enough' message.

after i got home from taking kris and john out (i didn't feel up to going but went after getting pissed at charlie's reaction when i asked him to do it.), charlie asked if i was angry at him. i said yes immediately, rather than give myself time to chicken out. i told him i was angry and hurt. he knew as soon as he said it i was hurt, but didn't know how to respond. he let me go ahead and go out hoping i'd cool off so we could talk. (good move really).

for whatever reason, he had wanted me to verbally acknowledge that i didn't want to go out. he's not even sure why he wanted that but i'm sure it's an area of 'learning to speak your spouse's emotional language' that we will need to discuss later. (the language issue is one we've been trying to explain to harley and trish and that would naturally bring it up for us) i had thought my not wanting to go was obvious and was hurt by his use of the word 'want' because i took it in the context of 'too lazy'.

told him that i felt ignored and pressured. i resented him spending so much time on the computer today (as if we don't do it...). i vented some about feeling like it's not okay for me to be sick. not so much that i can't be sick but that it's not okay for me to stop and take time to get better.

told him how lonely i feel these days because we get no time at all together. i told him most of the things that are stressing us right now but it was the issue of being sick that finally reduced me to tears.

he got up and wrapped his arms around me and when i told him i need to be given permission to take care of myself he was able to understand that it needs to be verbal. i've tried so hard to put away the 'sick' triggers and it's still a huge thing. he thought that by not telling me to get up or by not pointing out what needs to be done, that that was 'permission'. he hugged me and apologized for not recognizing all these years that what i need (because i NEVER got it) was to be told to get in bed and take care of myself. i need that verbal acknowlegment or all the old messages and paranoia just take over and i read negativity into and personalize everything anyone does or says.

charlie told me how frustrated and tired he's been too. he told me about the areas where he was more or less feeling paranoid about things he thought were upsetting me. areas where he felt he wasn't measuring up. all things that weren't bothering us at all. things he needed to know were okay. so chalk up another *language* lesson and a fairly good cry.

i've been told to go to bed for the night and charlie is taking care of dinner and the kids.

so, g'night.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Phu-Que: the new wonder drug


you can tell the mood tonight by the choice of television and books. switching (no pun intended) back and forth between two movies that don't exactly leave the warm fuzzies and reading one that ends in heartbreak.

one of those days that make you wonder if anything more can possibly go wrong. one of those days where pessimism just moves in and makes itself at home. charlie is pulling another 9-10 day work week. no idea when he'll have time off but when he does, it's usually spent catching up on sleep.

could sleep forever. no amount of sleep provides rest and that makes it seem futile, though still very tempting. briefly entertained the thought of swallowing enough of something to force a day or two of sleep, but know better. just a small flight of wishful thinking, or perhaps an outright wish. it would at least quiet the endless coughing for a time.

the medication to treat the side effect that comes from any antibiotic, was forgotten again. it makes sense. the medication to treat the sickness doesn't work. the medication to treat the symptoms also works for shit. why remember the one essential for hope of any comfort until the damn thing runs its course?

meanwhile, each coughing spell irritates the throat enough that it will start bleeding again soon. no amount of medication has touched the headache.

attempted to put a fist thru a cabinet door earlier but lacked the necessary enthusiasm to do anything more than slightly bruise the knuckles. there are enough doors with holes in them already and the kids running around would have seen.

want desperately to indulge in a long bath but know too well what would happen. if people fall apart over finding evidence of cutting in the shower, how would they react to walking in on someone in a watery bloodbath?

 can't risk cutting as there is too much carelessness. all evidence must be removed, disposed of, cleaned and hidden again for later use. the last time there was cutting, the used blade was left in the shower and only remembered after being away from home for 4 hours. trying to get back before children got home from school or worse, charlie got home from work and stumbled upon it, was an experience in panic.

what kind of stupidity does it take to intentionally trigger oneselves. yes, the collective. buzzing away in a sound that can block out all others. why go out of your way to make it worse? why join in and encourage the noise if it is possible to shut it out? why join in the noise of the world if it is possible to shut it out as well?

then again, the world is not so easy to ignore.

so it seems they wander unknowing


lost in the swirling
of the winds that rage
thru heart and soul

lost in time and space
no one sees beyond
the limits of their pain

lost in glaring blindness
brought by unspoken anquish
they walk alone so it seems

lost in a mist of tears unshed
trodden shards of broken dreams
scattered all around

lost in a darkness
filled with age old lies
with claws that tear the heart

lost and alone
in this world unchanged
unaware of the lost around them

they wander
searching for a hand
to reach thru the night
of their enchanted prison

searching for a hope
for chains to be broken
to simply be known

searching for light
to pierce the darkness
and quiet silent screams

waiting for a day
when the whipping winds
may cease

waiting for a sign
the world will not
forever tear the soul

waiting for the touch
that stops the wandering
and heals the shattered heart


Friday, March 28, 2014

stop the world, i want to get off...


appt went well. won't know about blood work til tomorrow. had to cancel with lyn. under the present circumstances, it's best. will see her monday tho.

stephanie and i *ranted* all over trish and harley after we got triggered big time. too long a story to get into... just hurts when people you love are hurting each other and themselves while you watch and you can't just *fix* it. we got pissed instead *groan*. it's okay, as much as it can be. too many things needing to be done. too many going undone. too many triggers and too little energy to keep a balance.

tomorrow we stay home and play. the children need time with mom and the littles need time with the kids so somewhere in the middle we'll try to meet.

need a day off of inside work too. tomorrow we'll just be. if the household stuff goes undone for a day, so what. it's not like it's going anywhere.

but i don't wanna!


don't you hate when you're stuck knowing you have to do something you really really don't want to do, even if it is the right thing?

managed to skirt around getting bloodwork done when we were sick back in may and july. went to the doctor then for the same reason as now... can't talk, laugh or breathe deeply without starting a wheezing coughing fit. the coughing causes my back muscles to spasm leaving me on my knees. (was *never* sick as a child, only *faking*) as much as i hate looking and feeling so pathetic (really playing that sympathy game for some attention, huh? just suck it up and go on!) it's far less stressful than actually going to the doctor. we have learned that waiting until it requires a trip to the ER is more frustrating, time consuming and dignity crushing than just screwing up our courage and going to see our own doc.

she's really nice and understanding of the SI and she listens. that's a big thing for us. she listens with consideration and respect and doesn't blow us off simply because of the DID. (you know the type... the attitude that says 'you have *insert diagnosis here* therefore you cannot possibly know your own needs, have any common sense, intelligence or reason and i'll simply ignore you and shove a pill at every symptom') she knows where we've been burned by the profession in the past and consciously goes out of her way to ensure we are treated with as much emphasis on preserving our dignity and privacy as there is for preserving our health.

that's been almost a year since we've had bloodwork done and we've totally ignored our end of the bargain to get the H & H levels checked regularly if we're cutting and i know that i know that i know if they had gone up at all from the bloodletting in june and july, they're back down again by now.

i broke my word to avoid having to get transfused again and now i have to face it. i hate that i let fear and shame nail us again by keeping me from just admitting how bad the cutting was then and dealing with it.

have a lot to vent on the SI issue... right now though, we need sleep more.

thanks to ALL OF YOU for your notes and for even reading our ramblings. for all its failings, FOD has given us a safe and healthy place to share and a special bunch of people who support without judgement and condition. we've made more real progress in our 3 months here than in any other online or real life community we've known.

so sappy sentimental hugs to everyone *grin* you've no idea what a gift you are to us.


Thursday, March 27, 2014

days like this should always be mondays


let's see... about 45 minutes sleep... cough that makes my low back lock up giving me the posture of a shrunken cartoonish old lady... just hoping i can keep the coffee down... breathing? not sure you can call it that.

going to try the 45 min drive to dr. c but cancelling the twice rescheduled appointment to get the permanent crown. don't think it's a good idea to have a person with sharp instruments, chemicals and who knows what other tools of torture, in your mouth when you have a cough. that's just asking for trouble.

this is looking more and more like a screw it all and stay in bed day.

*sniffle* *cough* *pathetic look* anybody got a tissue?

if i had the energy i might try to feel sorry for myself later...



kinda feel like i'm peeking out to see if the shit's stopped flying. maybe this time i won't get hit?

it's not like i don't agree with her or anything, but told her earlier (stephanie) that it'll be good when she doesn't have to be so, i dunno, harsh. it's better than it used to be but it just really sucks when even the hint of a word (liar) can make you feel so shitty and small. wish we could just ignore stupid people. marisa was teasing her about having to have the last word. think maybe she shoulda waited for stephanie to cool off some more first.

anyway, it was kinda funny earlier because amelia and stacy were like sticking out their tongues at that girl's note. and anyway, we know. that's what matters, right?

thinking about talking to dr. c tomorrow but maybe i'll just wait til we see lyn. not about this stuff or anything. and now we have to go see the regular doc. got out of doing it back in july when we lost a lot of blood and lyn thinks the iron might still be too low since we're getting real dizzy again. started before we got sick with this stupid cold, so can't blame that. dr. l is nice and all but, doctors... ugh.

gonna try to answer notes and maybe catch up on diaries some. the med we're taking for the asthma (only hits when we get sick) has ephedrine in it. we're not sleeping tonight.


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

My all time favorite Far Side cartoon


is the one that shows God in his laboratory, Earth on the counter before him and spice jars on shelves behind him labeled with with various races This was Pre-PC days. In his hand is a jar labeled JERKS. The caption reads, "And just to make it interesting".

I realize that society is fucked and that dealing with assholes is as certain as death. That does not mean I should revel in or dance for joy over the fact that I am forced to share oxygen with them.

I feel no responsibility whatsoever to enjoy sharing the planet with the self-involved prick in the Volvo who nearly sideswipes you because he's too busy talking out of his ass into his Nokia while writing memos on his Palm Pilot, when he should be paying attention to the road.

I have no consideration at all for the slovenly, mulleted nit who, while in a store, yanks her malnourished and unwashed looking child by the arm while threatening to cut her ass because she's being a typical child.

There is not the least bit of tolerance for the scum sucking trouser snake who raises dogs intended for illegal fighting, only to shoot and stab the animals who don't show a penchant for violence.

I also have no predilection for the company of vacuous minded teenyboppers who seem surprised when their shameless self-promotion and childish bullshit are not met with responses of enraptured gratitude.

Do some good in the world. Sign your organ donor cards now so there may be some hope of your eventual usefulness to humanity.




You don't say? - 10/1/2002 The diary referenced in the post entitled LIAR? was mysteriously cleared of all notes, including the one in which the diary's owner both accused us of lying and, for the second time in a single day, boasted that our hard-earned self-portrait was easily copied.

My reaction and response to this may easily have been stronger than warranted. Still, I have no regret. The person known as the Crew has been called a liar for things far less personal than this issue. The word liar was also used as a weapon in the abuse we have survived and is a guaranteed hot button. If you make the choice to point a finger at us, prepare to have it bitten off if you cannot support your accusation.

Those who know us, know truth is as valuable as breath to us. Anyone stupid enough to suggest otherwise can expect to be reamed, with relish.

Do NOT fuck with us on this one. Making you wish you had not and exposing you for your shallowness gives me an entertaining break from the harsh reality of protecting the Crew as we heal. Should you still choose to cross that line, understand that you have no concept of the depth of the well of rage into which you tap.


mother hen or cracked egg?


nancy has officially gone kazoo.

nancy and samantha are inside helpers. they have both come forward enough to speak but have never taken executive control. levia has on two occasions but generally stays inside...

samantha does not deal with emotion at all. she's information only. levia has grown to become sort of a governess to the littles and middles. in no way is she cold, but she makes sure community rules are followed and is more businesslike in her approach to things. nancy's job is to nurture. she cuddles, protects, consoles and reassures. as each newly awakened little begins to come forward, nancy is the one who is on 24/7 duty to meet their needs. the 3 of them together, sort of do what i do in 3D life as mother to 5 kids.

the one thing that really sets nancy apart from levia and samantha is her emotions. because she doesn't come out, she has sort of a direct link to me where her feelings are concerned. thanks to nancy, (don't ask!) this past year, i physically experienced *every* annoying, physical symptom of pregnancy, short of labor, without actually being pregnant! in short (too late), if she feels it, so do i.

why do i bring this up? well... it all started when buddy came home.

when the kids play with him, i half expect to find myself saying 'be careful of the soft spot!' (don't think puppies have one...) or 'support his head!' (which he doesn't need...) and it's not exactly frustrating, but more along the lines of embarrassing. it's not even as if anyone on the *outside* knows that this cross over occurs (except maybe charlie) but i feel completely ridiculous. there will be no peace until we've 'baby-proofed' the house!

we 'misplaced' buddy earlier. well, we went upstairs for a bit while he played downstairs with sadie, trish's dog. after about half an hour nancy is asking where the 'baby' is. that began a frantic search around the house with visions of dead puppy running thru my head. he'd just found a corner to nap in, but now i'm hearing that i should have known better than to leave a baby unsupervised. harley was downstairs. that's not unsupervised, but as far as nancy's concerned, if he's not with charlie he's not to be out of our sight for a moment. am i not aware of all the things that such a small one can get into? he is currently wrapped in his blankie, napping on my lap and we just shushed john because the 'baby' is sleeping.

okay, i DO after all have 5 kids of my own. yes, i know this is the time of year when all of the kids were born. yes, i know, this is the time of year when we made the painful decision to get my tubes tied, because my body cannot handle another pregnancy. yes, i know that this is the time of year when baby fever generally sets in. it's also the time of year when we've dealt with several life-threatening crises with the children. *some* paranoia is more or less expected, but i'm thinking nancy needs to back off before i find myself buying a snuggly baby carrier for the puppy! she's already tried convincing me that the antique doll cradle would make the 'perfect bed' for him. it's just the right size and we wouldn't have to worry about him falling off the bed and breaking a leg. if she tries talking me into a stroller or clothes for him I'M COMMITTING MYSELF!

i'm thinking we need to find a tranquilizer *just* for HER!

yes, my friends, mental illness CAN be funny...

Tuesday, March 25, 2014



Most of you who have known us for even a short time probably know our feelings about people who randomly note for the single purpose of drawing attention to their diaries. There is a little girl on FOD who is making custom dolls. A nice thing to do for people. She is making the offer through random noting.

Don't get me started on those who are too full off themselves to bother reading the entries they note. However, we have our own and several of you can vouch for the fact that they are not simply cut and paste dolls because you were there while we obsessed over getting them done.

This young lady seems to have difficulty not only having respect and courtesy for others, she is also apparently psychic, since without knowing any of us, she can divine that we must have lied about drawing the dolls and made a point of saying so in her own diary. This is the note she left us: okie...looked at it...and the only dolls i saw were the ones on the front page...and they weren't drawn by you because if i wanted to, i could make the exact same picture just by looking at it.

First let me extend a challenge. Young lady you are more than welcome to prove your statement. Personally I would love to see you come up with an exact, down to the last detail replica of the dolls that represent the Crew. The only ones that you could possibly copy with simple cut and paste on dollmaker sites would be those representing Levia and Samantha. Each of the other dolls were done individually with even the eye color and skin tone drawn pixel by pixel, then grouped in a separate file. Short of printing then scanning that picture, there is no possible way for you to do what you claim.

Arrogance only works if you can back it up with action, Deary. Give it your best shot.


small miracles


wrote a sweet and eloquent entry about *buddy* last night and FOD ate it. *pout* will try again...

buddy is all of six inches tall with every shade of fur from almost white to dark brown, except for his ears and his entire muzzle which are jet black. everyone in the house is head over heels about him, except for the cats who are decidedly unimpressed. but that's not the best part...

when buddy and his sister were dropped off at the shelter, they immediately had every staff member/volunteer wrapped around their tiny paws. little did we know that while harley, trish and the crew were running crazily from pet store to pet store to shelter after shelter and dealing with the hours in the heat due to an accident we witnessed... another family was having a similar adventure for the same reason. neither of us expected to find a puppy, but we also didn't know that at least one shelter worker was sending up fervent prayers that the two puppies they were calling gizmo and gremlin would be adopted at the same time or by one family so that neither would have to spend a night alone in a steel cage.

coming home saturday, the three of us were all just sagging with disappointment... i told trish that while we may never know why, there was a reason we didn't find the dog we were looking for that day. somehow i just *knew* we would find him/her the next day.

when we arrived at the shelter we knew the reason for saturday's *failure*. the main door was closed but the door to the kennels was open. harley had barely walked in the door before being face to face with the *one*.

harley: don't know if this is the right door to come in...
amanda (shelter worker): are you looking for a dog?
harley: yeah
amanda (holding buddy): how about this one?

and that was it. only moments before the other family had arrived and found his sister. they were not only adopted at the same time, we all had gushy goodbyes and left the shelter at the same time.

okay, so it's a very minor thing in the grand scheme, but these are the things that give us the greatest hope. little moments of answered prayer and small miracles. knowing that the way it all happened was no accident and that buddy was absolutely meant for our family and charlie in particular, is the kind of warm fuzzy that can carry us thru.

there's much more to share about our adventures overnight with us getting sick and buddy not realizing night time is for SLEEP but it's time to head to lyn's and get back to work. this body may not have rested this weekend, but the hearts and souls of the crew have been generously fed with love and unexpected joys.

Monday, March 24, 2014

mission accomplished!


after a 5 hour hunt and an hour and a half stuck in the heat after witnessing an accident yesterday... almost half a tank of gas and only $2.78 over the limit charlie set (all he knew was it was an early b-day gift for him) he is now the 'daddy' to an 8 week old, not even 2 lb., chihuahua/poodle puppy. hard to explain, well in a short entry anyway, but this was a *need* for charlie and one he would not have allowed himself to fill. he's not been without a lap baby since he was a kid and when we lost the yorkies all in one year it was a big blow for him.

anyway, he's (the puppy) all tuckered out from excitement and sound asleep snuggled in charlie's arms and every adult in the house is a weepy gushy mess. little does this teeny guy know how much we all needed him right now.

now to get myself back out of the house long enough to settle the littles who are about to explode with excitement. won't even try to describe the drive home.

how can i be so stupid?


charlie found the tie off in the shower this morning. no matter who does the cutting i *know* to clean up. i *know* to hide the evidence. it's *my* responsibility. i *know* that it breaks charlie's heart and now he's standing in the shower in tears and it's my fault! can't stand to see/hear him cry. god it hurts so much! i'm so sorry charlie. i'm so sorry we're hurting you. i'm so sorry you have to live with this. i'm sorry you have to hurt with us. why can't loving someone protect them from hurting instead of causing it?

i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

Sunday, March 23, 2014

unbreaking the mirror


the littles are getting creative and using art to express themselves. it hurts so much to look at their pictures. how can abusers really believe that they are doing anything but evil? how can they not realize the extent of the damage they do?

our bodies were created to find pleasure in sex, but not until the body and mind are mature enough to handle it. when a tiny child is sexualized, those physiological responses are kicked into gear. that's just the way we're made. so when abuse begins and is on going, the child will eventually have physical responses beyond their control. when those responses kick in, the shame and degradation that are already there from the abuse itself, only get deeper and stronger because now there is the guilt. guilt and shame for a body responding with physical pleasure to something hideous and wrong. how can one NOT feel shame?

how do you tell a 4 year old that just because they feel something in their body, doesn't make them to blame? shit, for that matter, how do i convince myself, or reese or anyone else? how are we supposed to revisit that hell so it can be put to rest without having to experience this body betraying us even in the memory?

i can handle the shame and the fear. i cannot handle THIS!

i cannot handle physical sensations reserved ONLY for intimacy with charlie coming up in the memories of abuse! i cannot handle the fact that my body betrays me even NOW! i don't want to remember the ways we punished ourself for those feelings. i don't want to remember the things we willingly and at times intentionally endured because of a drive beyond our control. a drive started by the sick fuck who told a tiny kid it was good and right.

i don't want to remember the physical sensations that occurred within my body even as i fought against the man who raped me. i said no. i fought like hell. still the question remains... if my body responded, then how can i call it rape? i did not want what happened, but that's not enough to absolve me of guilt. lyn and dr. c can tell us over and over that we are not to blame, but it won't sink in. we can tell ourselves we are not to blame and it doesn't sink in. what's there is the remembrance of my first year of marriage... and having to learn (i had to LEARN) to respond to the gentle touch of a loving man. all i had ever known was brutal, illicit, forced, compulsive, hurtful (translation: wrong) and i found that i didn't know how to respond to *it* as it was meant to be.

i can't believe i'm even writing this. i know the punishment that will come from having told these *secrets*. the fog is rolling in and the shaking has begun again. the shame is choking my breath, but dammit! we should be able to say these things and know that tho we are responsible for our own choices, we ARE NOT TO BLAME! we did not start this. we did not force or ask for the violation of this body and we NEED to believe that all that came after was the result of that crime, and not our own *badness*.

you sick mutherfucking sonofabitch. you created a victim but she SURVIVED!!! not only survived but will fight what you created and find the broken pieces of the innocence you shattered and HEAL! by what you did you've controlled every day of this life since and it's coming to an END! you will control this life NO MORE!

Friday, March 14, 2014



spent most of the day on a sort of wild goose chase for something for charlie. harley and trish had the idea and we're all for it, but we had no luck finding it. can't say what it is just yet as charlie's allowed to read this, *grin* but we'll have it tomorrow i'm sure.

it was good to have the time out of the house. even with the frustration and craziness of it, it kept us from getting sucked into this hell that is sitting and waiting to claim our thoughts.

soon as we got home, the tension began. kids are moody and not doing what they're told. charlie's depressed, and harley and trish are feeling the pressure to find work and a home...

it's not even that the outside stressors are that much a problem. just that it is taking so much energy just to keep the inside from spilling out, that the everyday irritating stuff is enough to send us over the edge.

torn between taking enough tranxene to stay asleep for the next few days, finding out if there are any good veins left to tap into, breaking anything and everything we can get our hands on, and finding a place to hide curled in a ball.

it's not a good sign when you have to fight not to start rocking and moaning in a store...

if i could let go enough to unlock the tears, maybe it would help. something... something has got to give.



not good not good not good. the tension in the house is so thick you can cut it with a knife. the kids are ill tempered, harley's continually pissed at trish and charlie is in a funk. i'm stuck somewhere in the middle of all this and every time charlie raises his voice i want to just start to whimper. i can't stand this much longer. dammit, if i thought we could find a vein that wasn't shot, i'd give in and just sit and bleed for awhile. i can't take much more of this.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

sorta kinda maybe a little bit okay


spoke with both dr. c and lyn by phone today. a rarity. both reassured me they are available by phone if we need them. a huge thing for us because we've been told so many times by others that they will not talk to us when we're having a bad time. even after the diagnosis... we have a long history of just wearing people out til they can't stand the thought of us anymore. so as soon a we get panicky or can't get grounded, the idea of picking up the phone to call someone just makes it worse.

spent hours last night going thru newspapers and magazines looking for pics and words to do a collage. sat down tonight and got it done. impressed we got thru it.

feeling a lot like the little girl in miracle on 34th street...i believe, i believe, it's silly but i believe. that's where we've been today. we'll get thru this, we'll get thru this, doesn't feel like it, but we'll get thru this...

writing helps so we'll be around, but plan to spend as much of the weekend sleeping as possible.

by the way... thanks for the warmth shown to amelia. she/we learned to read at 4 and she's pretty darn independant about writing things herself. hates having to ask for help... another common thread in this system.

we'll get there. we'll get there. it seems damn far away but we'll get there.