DUE TO CONTENT THIS JOURNAL IS NOT FOR MINORS
Black woman w/Dissocative Identity Disorder discusses PMDD,PTSD,anxiety,etc. This is a day2day record of life with MPD/DID. I will contradict and pity myself, show strength, weakness, oddity & humor. I promise to do it all with complete honesty. This journal is about recovery in all its stages. DUE TO CONTENT THIS JOURNAL IS NOT FOR MINORS
Getting Old - Getting Wiser
This pain is getting old. I seem to have times when I don’t feel like I'm falling apart physically and then there are times like today where it feels like I've already fallen apart. My jaw doesn’t want to open all the way, my knees ache, my hips ache and my stomach is upset. I feel like I need to vomit. I'm only 34.I fear writing about some of the physical things I've gone through because I worry that they will seem so outrageous that no one would really believe them. I got a comment awhile back from someone that feels I'm lazy and should go get a job. When I write entries about the things I've gone through I hesitate because there are people that read this journal that are just looking for inconsistencies in my story or just looking for something to attack and criticize. They seem to have nothing better to do than to bother other people. Even so, their sightless words have muffled my words of truth. This bothers me.
It’s kind of like a person on a group I'm on right now. This person seems to think people should word things a certain way. She seems to be looking for something to be offended about...looking for something to attack. It is people like this and people like the person that left such a nasty comment that one time that put snags in my recovery. I worry about people and their boundaries. In the last week or so I've had 4 people cross boundaries that just shouldn’t be crossed. Today 2 people crossed boundaries having to do with race. One idiot used the N word as if it was okay to do so, another told me that in a white hat I was wearing I looked like I should be out picking cotton. I have to wonder why people think they can say anything they want to say no matter what it is. The first person to cross a boundary today got a semi blast back via email. I asked her who she thought she was. She got off lightly because I didn’t curse at her at all. I told her to never EVER use that word with me. What makes things worse is that someone came to her defense and told me to “get over yourself.” Oh, okay, you’d like for me, a Black woman, to get over myself and stop being upset that someone used the N word. I wasn’t supposed to be upset. I had to wonder who on earth that person was cause they just come out of the friggin blue and right into the middle of a conversation they knew nothing about. I’ve removed myself from THAT conversation because there is nothing short of a sincere apology that would make me reply to anything she has to say at all. I have no need to read her emails and reply to them. There are plenty of other people on the group that can be there to support her. I have to wonder what it is that makes people think they can say anything at all and its okay to do so. The conversation had nothing at all to do with the N word. It had to do with negatives and positives not race. It was so out of place, almost like it was there for the purpose of offending me. When I saw it I was so shocked. It turned my stomach into knots. I was so angry I didn’t know what to do. A friend of mine, a sister of choice, says that when she was a kid and people used that word it meant the black person was going to jail and the white person was going to the hospital….two different destinations …one incident of saying the wrong thing. She said evidently this person didn’t have their ass kicked enough by black people for saying that word. In the true spirit of soul I said, “That’s what I'm talkin’ ‘bout.” Anyway though, it’s people such as the girl from the group and the person that left a mean comment awhile ago that send me into a spin. It makes me want to curl up, double over and never come out of my shell. Then it makes me want to stand up and remind them that they need to lay back down and shut the fuck up so I can continue to move forward. It reminds me that there are “voices” I can tune out and “voices” I can ignore so that I can continue to grow and improve my own life. There are few people that will make it through life without offending someone. There are a few people whose lifetime goal is to offend. There are more than a few people that simply want to live, to speak freely, to move about freely. I count myself among group. Counting myself with this group means I have to tune out those who talk garbage. I'm okay with that. Joan of Arc inside Morton’s PrideTuesday, April 11, 2006
the old me
My sleep has been disturbed for a very long time, as long as I can remember. Last night I had 6 hours of refreshing sleep. When I woke up this morning I felt like I might have gotten a glimpse of a new me.
My TV hasn't been on for days. I started watching a lot of TV recently but I think I'm getting back to the old me.
Tomorrow Slave Girl is supposed to come by. We're going to go get some lunch. I was feeling lonely. She called and said she'd like to come over. I needed the company and the face to face interaction. Accepting anything is much like the old me.
I finally had a sit down dinner tonight. I baked herbed chicken, had fresh spinach, baby carrots and a biscuit. Of course there were not left overs. I finished dinner with a cup of coffee like I use to do all the time. I felt like the old me.
I wanted to try and get Barney some help with the yard. I noticed that this week end when he tried to help me move a table into his office that he struggled and looked like he might pass out. I wonder if his hiking is different than working in the yard. Giving him the benfit of the doubt, observing, analyzing, it's so the old me.
I cleaned out some of the flower beds to prepare them for the basil and other herb plants. I was kind of out of breath. I'm not sure why. I did have a nice time. It's relaxing exept when I see bugs. I recoiled when I saw a worm or an oversize bug. I hate bugs. That's so girly I know. But the sun was shinning and it was a beautiful day. Today may have been a glimpse of what refreshment feels like. Today may have been a taste of what is to come, of what days might be like as the new me.
Milwaukee, 12
Monday, April 10, 2006
GRATITUDE MONDAY- Hug your animals
Monday, April 10, 2006 7:42 PM
Gratitude: being thankful, having the desire or reason to thank somebody, to value something of quality, to understand the importance, meaning and significance of something.
Gratitude Monday: a loose rendering of gratitude, a list, just a few words or commentary to show appreciation for or recognition for big and small accomplishments.
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I’ve learned so much about myself. It would be difficult to journal about everything. I think that learning about oneself shouldn’t be hard. I think hard lessons are overrated but the one I'm going to talk about right now probably couldn’t have carried the weight it does without such drastic measures.I was narrowing down my daily tasks when I noticed that Captain was on point with his nose stuck to the window. Outside the fence was a red chow mix dog that appeared to be a wondering stray. My heart went out to him because he looked so pitiful. I went out to greet him and Cap slipped out the door to greet him too. They sniffed each other. I said to myself, “this dog needs a home badly.” He appeared to be timid but kind. His hair was matted most everywhere but if given the proper care he could have been a very pretty dog. Just as I went to pet his little head a woman ran up with a pan of chicken calling, “Bear, Bear.” It turned out that this matted dog had a home and that his owner didn’t understand that caring for her furry friend meant keeping him clean, tagged and in his own yard. I was furious that this woman would let her dog look like this. He was so poorly taken care of that I figured he was a stray. I figured someone dumped him a long time ago and that was the reason his fur was matted and his tail half bald and swollen. He had poop caked on his butt and he was absolutely filthy. I was so mad that I couldn’t stand there and look at that woman. I came back inside the house. I paced for a bit, steaming mad, wondering how anyone could treat an animal so poorly.I use to be absolutely terrible when it came to being a responsible pet owner. I went through dogs like I go through junk food. I didn’t see all the value in them, the way I gave them up showed it. I'd bring a dog home and keep him for maybe a few months, take him to the pound and then get another one. They were very clean, well fed, exercised, vaccinated and all that but when it came to keeping them I had total disregard for their well being. It was disgusting. It would be years of this type of pet swapping before I'd learn the value of animal life.When I moved to a small town the only job available to me was at an animal shelter. There’s always this joke that towns people have several key jobs, the sheriff is also the mayor and the fire chief if also the deputy sheriff. Well, when it came to the animal shelter this double duty also applied to me. I cleaned the cages but I also ran the crematorium. I know what you’re thinking, “oh my God I couldn’t do that.” I did, I did it daily for quite some time. I learned how to give the two injections and how to verify that the animal was actually euthanized before putting him into the furnace to be incinerated. I put down up to 15 dogs and cats a day. Most of the dogs were pedigree and under the age of 2. Countless kittens and puppies were put under then tossed into the furnace like somebody’s garbage. When I saw this inhumane way of ending life I developed a new appreciation for properly caring for animal kind. I realized what was happening to all those animals that I just gave away or dumped. Some of the works just tossed their bodies into the wheelbarrow piled high like fire wood. There was no respect for them during life or after death. It was a shameless example of humans being calisey human. When an animal was to be put down the following day I'd spend the evening with them saying my goodbyes and talking to them. It made the job easier to stomach. After all the animals on one wing were down it was quite a somber moment. I'd walk on a thin concrete path down the middle row where water spilled to the center and down the drain. It was sickeningly morbid and shockingly eye opening. It seemed so simply what it took to save a dogs life: tag, neuter, spay and love. It was simple yet withheld. Those animals could have lived.At the shelter I learned that most pets there belonged to someone and that if the animals had been properly tagged the chances of them returning home were significant. I also learned that spay and neuter aren’t words of choice they’re acts based on necessity, acts based on reason and responsibility. I learned that giving young animals to “good homes” often meant the animal would end up in a shelter and have 7 days to find another home before returning to the shelter to repeat the cycle of bad placement. I also learned that if I wanted to ever pay a fraction of the debt I owed to the animals I personally threw away I'd have to spay, neuter, tag, vaccinate and provide a good clean home for him. I couldn’t see the animal as expendable, something I could drop off at a shelter at the slightest life change.Putting them down was a hard lesson for me but it was a necessary hard lesson. While no dog of mine has ever been matted and flee infested, wondering the streets with fear in his eyes he has lived in a home where his days were numbered. Seeing this dog named Bear reminded me of how far I’ve come with being a good mom to my fur babies. I'm grateful to that horrible furnace for teaching me a hard lesson so that when animals are brought into my life I can treat them with the dignity and respect that they deserve. I'm happy that I know what happens to shelter animals and I'm happy to have seen first hand the consequences of improper care. I think if people went to kill shelters during the hours where they put down the cutest puppies, the most torn, sick and diseased animals, the old dogs, the tiny newborn kittens and the average looking mutt they’d understand that seemingly actions prevent huge horrible ones. I’ve learned this lesson and I'm happy to have learned it.This wasn’t what I was planning to do today for Gratitude Monday but when that dog was outside my fence this all came rushing back to me. Is it odd that I would say I'm grateful for a hard lesson learned? Does this count as something that would be in a gratitude entry or should they all be based on happy and pleasant ear tickling events? My thought is this, today drove home that what I learned a few years back will affect how I treat my animals for the rest of my life. If there is anything at all to be grateful for, it’s for this lesson learned the hard way.I quit that job. I couldn’t take it. Have you hugged your fur baby today?Austin’s August
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template
the template looks fine on some browsers and like shit on other browsers. i'm torturing myself staying awake. i had the worst urge to simply delete this whole stupid blog. this is my cue to get away from the pc and turn it off for the night.
Not right
all the cat did was get on my table and i'm telling you she made me want to throw her. i just put her in the bedroom so i could have some room.
i think part of my anger is that i got caught off guard today/yesterday. Barney called me and said, hey my son is here we're going to bring this table back to you NOW! Oh my goodness. This is a multiples house, its not singleton friendly. and it certainly can't be made singleton friendly in seconds. i was kind of freaking out because Barney doesnt know I have DID but if he came walking back here I feared there would be way too much info given out about me. I dont know......
I did some work in the yard, trimmed the rose bushes, went to UK's yard sale and choked down a hamburger here at home. somehow the day has gotten away from me. I didnt even get a word of my book read. a girl from a group told me that when i start to itch i should take bynadril. well, duh! what was I thinking? i was quite shocked when it worked. i just get these itching attacks...all over just this horrible itching. 2 bynnies calm it down quickly. I'm going to have to pop some real quick because i'm starting to itch again. I took the 1st 2 around 1pm. It's 1:39Am now. Not bad for hours covered.
part of my problem too is the table itself. its a nice table but the amount of dust on it gives me the creeps. there is also a bit of goop on it and that is turning my stomach. it's sitting right in my living room and boy am i not happy. i'm going to have to fire up the herbal pillow i made today so i can clean the stupid table of all the foreign bodies living on it. damn i wish i was kidding. i wish i was actually laughing inside but i'm not. my teeth are so tight together right now i can feel the nerve in my lower jaw being pinched.
i should sleep now.
i have the second interview appointment with the therapist on Thursday. my first impression was one of fear. My mind was swirling. I wonder if it would be better for me to have a male therapist right now. I know that in treatment the clients needs change. There was a time when I wouldnt have even considered having a female therapist then a time when a male therapist was out of the question. I think I might be right back to needing a male therapist. My transference issues are strong even when the therapist is a shorter white woman as compared to my mother, a tall black woman. My head isn't right. I can tell. Me
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Hands
i am uncertain. my thoughts aren't clear. i always know when my body isn't well because of how my hands look. i cant tell if the skin is hanging or if its tight. they feel tight, almost hard to hold open but the skin itself appears to be loose and wrinkled. that must sound odd. i cant tell if i'm dehydrated or if I just need some really good lotion. my hands have almost a green tone to them, they look shriveled and dead. i'll get my test results back in a few days. I like to take pictures of hands. I just do. Me
Themed Entries
Themed Entries Sunday, April 09, 2006 6:32 AM Last night I had dream number three about Mic seeking passive aggressive revenge for me breaking up with him. This to me is a clue that I'm worried he might find some way to send a jab for cutting the strings and not being strung along. He may be calling every kind of female dog but I doubt he’s out there plotting against me. Heck, I he actually got the hint and stopped calling me. I stopped picking up the phone when I knew for sure he knew I was home. That’s one heck of a hint I'd say. He knows my schedule. I'm a routine freak so it’s not like he isn’t aware of what I'm doing at what time of the day. I was thinking that maybe I'd start a Gratitude Monday entry again. I use to do that on a few groups that I managed or co-managed. I'd like to start doing that again. I thought that maybe I'd keep the “rules” down and leave the subject matter open and the change things from just gratitude to maybe even records of things I’ve noticed or observed in myself that have changed for the positive. I won’t start Sarcastic Sunday or Anti-social Tuesday like a few of me want to do….no way we’re doing FU Friday. ..listing all the people who deserve a huge FU for stepping over clearly drawn boundaries. Destiny isn’t happy about not getting FU Friday when Maureen gets Gratitude Monday. One of the reasons I thought to do this type of entry again is because of something I got in the mail the Saturday. I bought my first Maya Angelou book, “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.” I’ve read only a few pages of it but I read all the reviews and I know for sure that in the face of trauma and anguish there are things that will stand out in a beautifully significant way. I think these things deserve to be written down. I still keep my Gratitude Jar. I read the dated scrap paper when I'm feeling down. The thing is, I'd like keep a running ledger of my baby steps in a spot where I spend a lot of time. With these entries I want to make sure I didn’t kick into my regular rigid rule setting self. I plan to write down things that have changed even slightly, things I saw during the week that caught my eye or even just outright document things I'm grateful for. I’ll be using a loose interpretation of gratitude. Soooo, this is what I'd like to start tomorrow. Right now I need to start a pot of coffee, feed the critters and find me some breakfast. Austin
Saturday, April 08, 2006
National Weather Alert
click the images to make them larger
Yesterday at the Med Center an emergency announcement came over the intercom telling everyone that the national weather center said there was a big storm coming and that everyone should stay inside and stay away from the windows. The sun was shining, everything was still. Nothing happened. The announcer came on a second time with the same message, again, nothing happened. This “cry wolf” stuff is what makes people disregard sirens and horns. Even so, I couldn’t help but think about the building downtown that took the most damage the other night. It’s the building that is only blocks away from where I use to live just before moving here 7 months ago. In that 21 story high rise I lived on the 19th floor and like everyone else, I disregarded all emergency sirens. I have to wonder what the residents think now. After seeing the bank buildings damage I was dead silent. Somehow no one at all got hurt, nobody. No one in this high rise building was working despite its offices being filled with attorneys and other known workaholics. Some say that all this city knows is basketball, well; perhaps it was the Final Four that saved a few lives that day because had it been any other day there might have been casualties. Everybody was at the game or in a sports bar watching the game or at a Final Four party watching the game. (Not me, I disregard the games as well) When windows blow out in high rises lives are lost but on this day no one had as much as a scratch. I'm thankful for that. 
What is odd to me is that while several floors of windows were knocked out 
there was ONE item on a different building that withstood the high winds and pressure. The city is thankful for the worker that secured the portolete so well that it withstood tornado winds that reached level F1. We are so thankful that this little blue box didn’t go flying through the air and spilling its contents on people that survived the other building unscathed. For all the trash talking we do to city workers this is one time when we must acknowledge their expertise and efficiency even when it is just budgie cord skills. You have thwarted mass law suites from the laywers in the other building. Shit would have hit the fan had shit hit the Final Four fans. The city salutes the workers that saved us!
What is odd to me is that while several floors of windows were knocked out there was ONE item on a different building that withstood the high winds and pressure. The city is thankful for the worker that secured the portolete so well that it withstood tornado winds that reached level F1. We are so thankful that this little blue box didn’t go flying through the air and spilling its contents on people that survived the other building unscathed. For all the trash talking we do to city workers this is one time when we must acknowledge their expertise and efficiency even when it is just budgie cord skills. You have thwarted mass law suites from the laywers in the other building. Shit would have hit the fan had shit hit the Final Four fans. The city salutes the workers that saved us!Sleep Is Killing Me
This is bull shit. The doc says not sleeping is killing me. I have voluntary insomnia meaning I stay awake because I'm worried about having nightmares. I’ve stayed awake for up to 4 days at a time trying to avoid seeing my mothers face..or her hands. I figure sleep is for those who enjoy horror films based on real life events. I’ve slept at least 6 hours nightly for the last 4 or 5 nights. This is bull shit because most of the sleep has been riddled with nightmares. This might be why it's so easy for me to flip out and collapse emotionally in public. Last night was the exception to the rule when it comes to nights filled with reasons to never lay down again. It wasn’t horror film stuff it was something the producers of Scary Movie might be interested in. I had a dream that Mic the dick turned me into the cops for buying dope which I didn’t buy... meaning a cop filed a false police report. He was angry because I broke up with him. The underage drug dealers showed up to testify that I bought dope off of them. They wanted to see to it that I was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. So I was standing behind bars as a falsely accused person when it hit me, why aren't these pre-teen pushers being charged with anything? And why did Mic the dick get on the stand to testify adding that he noticed I'd gained weight? Enter the one eyed stray dog and an elderly stripper and you've got yourself one crazy dream. One might think I’m on drugs with these contents but I can see fragments of actual events tied up in this here craziness. I have no logical explanation for the one eyed stray dog testifying to my alleged illegal activities.
- Actual events: * Mrs.R, my 74 year old Alzhiemers friend, recently told me that she is horny. Of course this brought up all kinds of horrible images and the obvious trauma from that spilled into my dreams. * My next door neighbor keeps asking my other next door neighbor where she can buy some “smoke.” UK calls pot “dope”. * I have in fact gained weight and you’d bet your ass people have commented about it. (I'm not sure why people feel so comfortable with being inappropriate. Why did Mrs.R feel it was right to tell me she’s horny? Was it the Alzheimers talking or is she like many others, she feels saying anything and everything to me is okay? And is it me or are all elderly people horny right now? Barney’s episode and now Mrs.R*…when I see wrinkled people now I tend to panic.)
Let me see … what else I can complain about: its cold in here. The cheese I bought the other day was nasty and everyone that knows Aussie knows she loves her cheese. I hate nasty coffee, nasty cheese and cops that file false reports in my odd ball dreams. This is just bull shit; it’s all a heaping, steaming pile of bull shit. Aussie
Friday, April 07, 2006
Anxiety and Switching In Public
Anxiety and Switching In Public Friday, April 07, 2006 5:17 PM Today was the first public panic attack I’ve had in a long time. After the panic attack I went little. I was at the doc’s office. The nurse was quite taken aback by it because the little one that came out is Mute and has an autistic way about her. Right now I'm so tired I can’t stand it. It’s been a rough day and all I’ve done is go to the doctor for tests. I got triggered by the needle. I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t have the same nurse as last time to draw my blood. I'm scared. I'm just really scared right now. I'm tired and still not completely grounded. I'm somewhat frightened at the moment so I need to kinda get myself together here so I don’t totally lose it. Captain is here and so is Gracie. I’ve got to take a nap now so I can stay safe. Sometimes the best thing to do is simply go to sleep when I feel like this. We're just so scared and my head hurts but i have to shut up about it and go to sleep but sometimes it helps to cry.
me, Ariel
The Smoking Dilemma Part One: Quitting
The Smoking Dilemma Part One To Butt or Not To Butt Thursday, April 06, 2006 11:20 AM I stopped praying a long time ago. I stopped praying before I eat, before I sleep. I stopped thanking God for the beauty I see around me, for the moments when I have peace of mind and for my loved ones and friends. I stopped because of guilt. I stopped talking about him because I didn’t want to be a hypocrite like most people that profess to be Christian. I smoke, I curse, I fornicate and everything else that other professed Christians do. I fear I’ve given the impression that I'm angry at Christianity when I'm not. I fear that the impression I’ve given is that I feel Christianity is dangerous and causes more harm than good. I do not believe that at all. What I believe is that professed Christians cause more harm than good. I felt that with my current life style speaking about my faith or even praying would make me a hypocrite. The main thing I want to change in my life right now is my smoking habit. I’ve tried to quit before but I’ve never really succeeded. I can quit for up to three weeks but it seems that once my anxiety level rises I light up. In 2003 when I was in the hospital with pneumonia and down for two weeks I ended up having a blood clot go from my leg to my lungs and then my heart. They had to put a filter by my heart so that no more blood clots could get to it. I’ve still got that filter. One would think that with coming that close to death putting down a cigarette would be a no-brainer. I remember thinking; I'm not going to live. I told the nurse that, “I'm not going to make it through this.” She looked at me like, “I know.” I suppose most people don’t live through traveling blood clots. Being given yet another chance at life, I still didn’t quit smoking. Captain has had his battles with tumors and I still didn’t quit even though second hand smoke is worse than that which I inhale. The laws in the country have changed and make it difficult to smoke anywhere in the US without being fined for it. That didn’t make me want to quit. I’ve seen people die of lung cancer; lug around oxygen tanks while smoking, and smother from damaged lungs. That didn’t make me want to quit. I don’t want to quit because people say smokers stink or because the laws have changed or because you practically need a loan to buy a pack of squares. I want to quit because it’s the right thing to do for myself. I know in my heart that the only way I'm going to quit successfully is to start praying again. Austin
Smoking Dilemma Part Two: Support
Support from Smokers and Non-smokers Smoking Dilemma Part Two Friday, April 07, 2006 9:22 AM Non-Smokers There are few issues where people openly display disgust without fear of being politically incorrect. People are willing to tell fat people to lose weight and they are willing to tell a smoker that what they do is disgusting. How many other situations are there where people feel they can openly and tactlessly express their opinion? I’ve had close friends tell me that smoking is a disgusting habit and that smokers stink. My neighbor uses the expression, “I hate smokers.” As I said, there are few instances where people would disregard the feelings of others to adamantly express their distaste for this or that habit. I guess when they say such rude and thoughtless things it’s to encourage the smoker to stop. Non-smokers give all these financial reasons for quitting; they talk about how smoking causes cancer and lung disease as if smoking is the only thing that causes such illnesses. Friends say smoking will cause my untimely death as if expressing their unwanted opinion grotesquely won’t cause their violent and untimely death. I’ve had people tell me I need to stop smoking and I need to tone my body so it’s not just my face that’s cute. Now, the last part I'm sure brings a few gasps but how different is that than to say, “What you put in your mouth and exhale is disgusting so you need to stop.” Rude is rude no matter what the subject. It is my belief that the last 2 acceptable prejudices are jeering those that are overweight and shaming smokers. If this was not the case our American Idol Prince would have been booted off TV and sent back to Britain long ago. If this prejudice wasn’t acceptable Jay Leno would leave the girl from Cheers alone (Kirstie Alley) and they’d stop making fun of Anna Nicole Smith. One can deny it but in reality making fun of the overweight is socially acceptable. When I want to stop smoking and mention it to non-smokers or God forbid ex-smokers I get the famous line “we’re behind you on this.” On the surface this appears to be friendly support but often times it does more damage than good. It’s why when smokers want to quit they often keep it quiet. I am not known for being quiet. It is difficult to hear people talk about smoking and say, “it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, and smokers stink”. This is not support. You can’t support someone based on insults. I not supposed to feel angered, insulted or ashamed? IT IS SHAMING and I’ve never in my life known anyone to be motivated positively by shame or words of force. Smokers Active smokers have a different way of offering support in a rather negative way. They say they’re behind you 100% because after all they would love to quit too. If I by chance fail to quit, like I’ve done 20 times before there is a poorly hidden smirk on the face of smokers followed by, “I knew you weren’t going to quit.” A neighbor of mine told me she loved when I tried to quit because she got all my smoking paraphernalia. She said she was happy to see me smoking again because it meant I'd try to quit again and once again she’d get all my ash trays and lighters. Active smokers sabotage other smokers who want to quit by inadvertently telling them they can’t do it. Non-smokers sabotage those who want to quit by repeatedly shaming them. The pressure to quit smoking is strong but the social support for it is weak. I hear that smoking is one of the strongest addictions on earth. I’ve heard it said that people kicked a heroin addiction “easier” than they quit smoking. Does this mean I should have shot up instead of lit up? No, I don’t think so but the point is this is going to take some serious will power. It’s going to take focus and its going to take me recognizing when others are unintentionally or intentionally sabotaging my smoking recovery. I have to adjust my behavior. I have to close my ears to shameful comments or comments about how I probably won’t quit this time either. And when it is necessary I’ll simply tell people to shut up because they’re not helping. This also means that if I end up losing more weight and I do quit smoking I’ll be the forbidden ex-fat girl and ex-smoker. I’ll have to remember to not be obnoxious and to observe the boundaries of others. Once someone leaves behind such issues they seem to target those who still struggle with them. I never want to be the “ex” anything that hounds those in need of recovery. I think it’ll be important to start praying again because I believe it will help me get strength from a non-sabotaging source, a source with no hidden agenda and a source with no harsh words of shame or doubt. I'm going to need that. I'm going to need that kind of support to kick one of the strongest addictions in the world. Austin
The pressure to quit smoking is strong but the social support for it is weak.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Me
why am i itching so terribly? my hands itch terribly. my calves itch, my thighs itch. i feel like i need to vomit. i see the family doctor tomorrow at 3pm. i interviewed another therapist today. i got together with UK for a bit and talked on the phone. I'm tired so I'm going to sleep now. i can't stop itching. that's been for several days now. my dogs name is Captain and he's six years old. he's all black. he's my favorite dog in the world. and we have gracie too. she's really little and fuzzy. i like her a lot. i've gotta go to sleep now. the lady we saw today had a duck in her office. he was yellow like our ducks here. i have to go to sleep now. Me
Between a rainbow rock and a hard place
I go to the women’s center today to interview the second of three potential therapists. The last time I did therapy at a center just for women survivors the center seemed to be rather anti-men. It is my hope that the feel of this center is different. The last time I was at this center I was living in their domestic violence shelter. Going to the shelter is how I got back to the Midwest. I'm okay with going in the building; I didn’t have anything but good experiences there. Heck, they even gave me my own bedroom. It seems people fear sleeping in the same room with someone that has more than one personality. It’s been my experience that those with just one are more dangerous than those with multiple ego states yet I'm the one on medication. Like most intake sessions the therapist will ask me if I'm gay, straight, bi-sexual or undecided. Having multiple personality disorder (DID), it just depends on who you ask. I’ve had some sleep and right now I feel like I'm in a pretty good mood. The person taking us will be Joan so the answer the therapist would get from her is lesbian. If I'm in a cynical mood then the therapist will get Destiny and her answer will be bi-sexual. If I'm timid and Maureen shows up then the answer will be straight. Since Joan is out the vast majority of the time then our answer in general is lesbian but what bothers me about saying we are bi-sexual is the response we get from the gay community. I’ve read some of the messages on an AOL Black Voices board called “Lesbian Sistas” as well as other message boards for the rainbow community. It seems there is a general distaste for people who say they’re bisexual. I’ve read for a long time and had many gay friends tell me that being bi-sexual means that you’re a fence jumper, that you’re undecided and for a lot of lesbian women bi-sexual women aren’t even considered a good catch. I don’t understand why a community that stresses an open mind is so closed when it comes to going both ways. It appears that you can be open to everything expect both. BDSM and other non-mainstream life styles are accepted without question but when you say you’re bi-sexual the lectures start, as well as the insults. I can’t say everyone gay I’ve talked to feels bi-sexuals are fence riders but the vast majority I know and have talked to feel those who claim to be bi-sexual are basically people that date the gender that’s immediately available to them. It is human nature to like variety so why is it offensive when sometimes I'd like to have “beefy meat” and other times “chicken”? Why is it that people have to take one side and stick with it so as to be accepted? I think it’s crazy. The whole sense of community gets thrown out the window when you decide you want both. Where is the acceptance of diversity in that? Do I have to pick one colour in the rainbow or can I enjoy them all? I don’t get it. The Deaf community has its pitfalls and loop holes in acceptance as well. It is difficult to be seen as a “real Deaf person” when you lost your hearing during your adult years. It’s also divided among race lines, sexuality lines and shares the broken concept of community found in most other groups that flock together. In the Black community there are lines drawn between people with darker or lighter skin, mixed or “pure” African American/Black. There are even dividing lines in the community of those living with multiple personality disorder. You’ve got your multiples that push hard that DID is a gift and not a disorder and really send you through a tongue lashing if you say differently. There are some really hard core “DID gift pushers” out there that wont even waste their time with those that see DID as a life altering disability. We that see DID as a disability are considered to be of the victim mentality. There are some DID’s that feel other DID’s are beneath them because they are more dissociative than they personally are. The cruelty that can be doled out would amaze you since it’s coming from someone that knows what it feels like to be humiliated and tossed aside. In general the divisions that cause stress for the human race are drawn by ethnic, religious, sexual and disability related boundaries. It’s a shame that within communities based on these specifics that there would be more levels of dividing lines. People are never going to live with each other peacefully if they draw such hard and fast lines. I hear heterosexuals say that they don’t care who sleeps with whom as long as gays don’t shove it in their face. In my opinion that means, I care what they do but I’ll pretend that I don’t as long as they stay in the closet. Forget the fact that heterosexual “love” is thrown in our faces daily, forget that fact that we see you guys kill each other left and right and show hatred at unprecedented levels. Forget the fact that heterosexuals are some of the most emotionally constipated people on earth that throw around their ideas as fact and not just shit. But hey, a man who is willing to love another man peacefully is a man to be mocked, feared and tucked away. In my opinion, it’s another way for humans to blame someone else for why they aren’t happy and why the world is in its current condition. With the world so divided, so hate filled, so angry and down right crazy I have to wonder why I'm the one on medication.
Morton’s Pride, on the both sides of the rainbow About commenting on all Sundrip Journals:Lines discussed in this entry: gay, straight, heterosexual, Deaf, Black, DID, disabilities in general and general racial lines. Don’t feel left out if I didn’t mention the divisions within your personal community and don’t feel singled out or attacked if I mentioned a group you belong to. Even if I do not agree with them varied comments based on personal opinion are usually welcome on this journal. The only thing I ask is that no one ever address Morton personally. Comments such as “tell Morton this that and the other” are not acceptable. I disable the comment option if there is an entry where I don’t care about your opinion or I'm are not in a space where I can handle varied opinions. Other than these few things, varied opinions are welcome on all Sundrip Journals.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Just Stuff
It has been a beautiful day today. Despite a lot of damage to one particular building the city itself has less damage than most of the Midwestern areas hit by the squaw. the building with the most damage was only a few blocks away from the high rise I lived in where I disregarded tornado sirens. today though, has been sunny and basically calm. I can hear the wind howl ever once in a while but other than that the sky doesnt look as threatening as the day before yesterday.
I interview another therapist on Thursday and then go back for more tests with the family doctor on Friday. I hope I figure out what i was going to tell him before Friday. Althought my hopes are to keep the gentelman that I recently interviewed I still want to shop around a bit. I want to interview this woman as well as one more person so that I know I'm not just grabbing the first therapist that comes along. I have a feeling though that I'll just be going through the motions with the next 2 interviews.
We tried something new with the art today. We thought we'd splash some colour on a picture of Captain. We're still not use to the whole colour thing and as a matter of fact there were a few times we wanted to get up and take a clonapin. Colours just do that to us.
I'm tired so I'm going to go to sleep. MaureenThe Boyfriend Voodoo Doll - prick that prick
The Boyfriend Voodoo Doll Tuesday, March 21, 2006 2:02 AM I needed some time to get my thoughts together before journaling on this subject. It seemed to come out of the blue when I told friends that Mic is a dick and that we broke up. I guess that on this journal I wrote about the very good side of Mic. I wrote about how he went from this super cop ego to a very humble man in the presence of children. I stand by that statement. I wrote that he has been hurt by so many women; I can’t stand by that statement because the man I’ve come to know may be on the doling out end of hurt when it comes to relationships. The two of us only dated since November, just before thanksgiving. But what I got to know of this man makes me not even want to look at his photos. The very thought of him makes me ill. I believe he has accomplished what no man has done before. He has reached a level of stupidity that few can only dream of. I am continually astounded by his expertise in stupidity and his dedication to jackass-man-ship. I guess I didn’t say this before because many wanted the best for me. Heck, I wanted the best for me. I wanted things to work out with this man. He appeared to be a good catch. But when looking closer he turned out to be someone I don’t even want to ever stand in the presence of again. I know that this is hard to understand. It must also be hard to understand why my reaction to the break up was that of suicidal ideation. This is the thing; Mic has lied to me again and again. He also refused to tell his parents, brothers and sisters and his friends about me. I was kept a secret even with mutual friends I was kept a secret. The majority of conversations we had consisted of him yelling and screaming about how he hates the world and how he hates everyone equally. I can’t think of a calm conversation that we have had since November. The bitterness that this man harbors for life in general is enough to fill up a football stadium, twice. He is bitter, angry and resentful of every living thing. He finds no joy in anything at all. He could find fault in a rainbow. Other than his living preference for perpetual darkness, he has some kind of double life that I have yet to really discover. He refuses to tell me where he lives or give me his home phone number. I have his cell number. Granted, I use to speak to him at all hours of the night but you know what? I like to know who I'm dating and the truth is, I didn’t. He told me he was one age but according to the profile I looked up and paid for on the net he is older than he claims to be. His middle name is not what he says it is. This would make one more than suspicious. The good stuff about this man that took place in our relationship was good, but that was very short lived. He finds humor in incest and in the exploitation of children. He jokes about it all the time. He even said that when he sees sex offenders online he wonders how many were wrongly accused. This is a cop, he knows the damage that sex offenders cause. He knows that I'm a survivor yet he still says these things. The woman that is currently a high profile criminal case that molested a 15 year old student also finds herself at the top of his joking list. He says that he wants to meet the boy and tell him “good job.” he makes me ill. He really makes me ill. It’s hard to go to the medical center and see the doc’s and the greeting crew because they’re going to ask about the “love birds.” We all, including me, wanted this to work out and I think when I things began to sour I didn’t want to let people be sad for me. I'm not one for hollow smiles. I can only fake a fake smile for so long. At first it was pretty easy to go along with “oh, things are fine” but after awhile the charade got old and burdensome. I should have just told you up front that this man is not someone I ever want to see again AND he is no longer the benefactor of Captain. You can’t sit and tell me about how you use to go home and beat your German Shepherd when you had a hard day and expect me to ever hand over my dog to you in case of an emergency. That’ll never happen. I know to trust Captain’s judgment. The last few times that Mic has been here Cap has not run up to him and been all happy to see him. He greets him only when Mic walks up to him but he doesn’t joyfully run to greet him like he use to do. After a scratch behind the ears he comes right back to me and stays. I know my dog, I know him well and I trust his judgment. We all know how I can’t stand a bigot and boy is he one. Not only does he make racial jokes about Black people but about Latino’s, Middle Easterner’s and pretty much anyone that isn’t White. His distaste for anyone ethnic is not discriminatory, that is the only unprejudiced bone in his body. The fact that I put up with this man angers me beyond belief. He thinks my diagnosis is a total joke, that psychiatry is a total joke, that most ailments are “designer” and are a waste of time. According to him I need to get over it, I need to put it all behind me and stop thinking that I'm broken and ill because I'm more together than most people he knows. This is what he says. I married an idiot. I married him and lived with him for how ever long we were married. I put up with the fact that he was a violent son-of-a-bitch, a liar, a drug addict and thief. It took me 3 times to actually leave him for good. You know what that taught me? it taught me that I have no time to waste on people that continuously show red flags of dangerous and questionable behavior. Mic has never hit me, God help him if he ever loses his mind and does. Mic has never told me that I'm worthless and fat and no good, God help him if he ever does. But what he has done is lied repeatedly, he’s raised questions about who he really is, he’s mocked my disorder as well as most other legitimate illnesses. He’s always so angry at everyone. At times I wondered if I was so “broken” that there wouldn’t be anyone out there that would want me. I thought that maybe he was all that I was going to get and maybe I should try to make it work. I called him and told him that it bothered me that I hadn’t seen him in over a month. His response was, “Don’t do this today. My son just jumped my ass because he said he never sees me.” I told him, well, I'm about to join this sour soup because we need to talk. That’s when his fuckin’ tears started and he gave me that movie line, “I'm sorry I couldn’t make you happy.” I'm sorry you couldn’t make me happy too and I'm sorry to my friends for lying and saying everything was okay when it wasn’t.
For all those who have ever dated an asshole please feel free to use the boyfriend voodoo doll. Prick this prick at will and show him how it feels to have a knife rammed in his heart. Pass the prick around so that others can enjoy the pleasure of deflating his ego, of emasculating him, of blacking his eyes and causing overdue harm. Feel nothing for me as I have pricked the prick repeatedly. I am fine now. I feel much better. Austin of Sundrip Journals
posted by Jella @ 11:59 PM
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