I’ll have a Valium Salt-Lick, Puhleeze.

It’s a joke I’ve had for most of my life- when things get overwhelming or very tough- I need a salt-lick of Valium.  Pop our pills out of a Pez Dispenser, whatever.

Today was a big day.  As I write this at 11:45 pm on Sunday eve into Monday morning…I got up early, Like at quarter to four am.  When you are heavy duty into parts work, your sleep schedule is sca-rewed!!!!  But I woke up, tottered around my house, took my meds and fell back asleep.  Woke up at about quarter to eight.  I was feeling pretty good, so I had decided and told people I was going to church that morning.  I never know if I can handle being in church until I get there, so I always drive separately.  I was abused in the church too.  My female babysitter had a female lover who was also deaf and they would force me to watch them get it on in the Janitor’s closet during Sunday School.  Some people were learning about the disciples, i was learning about how, I don’t know.  There’s a joke in there somewhere, I just can’t pull it out right now.  Maybe that was the joke.  *shudder*

Anyways, yesterday morning, meaning Saturday morning, I called a Psychic Line.  Don’t giggle or roll your eyes. I can hear it over here.  Well,  I use a particular psychic service because they guarantee their readings.  Saturday morning’s reading sucked.  NOT because he didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear or some such petty bullshit like that, it was because he was trying to hurry me off the line way before my time was up.  Not cool.

So, this morning I called and made a complaint.  Which is very difficult for me- a trauma survivor- to ask for what I need and or want.  So, they gave me another reading with another psychic. Good.  Went well.  She nailed a lot and helped me to put a lot of things to rest.  So, needless to say, I was feeling very tough this morning.  Despite the cacophony in my head.

Drive out to church.  Walking into church, there is a Hawk, riding the air currents, so close to me, I could of reached out and touched him.  Hawks are the messenger.  They bring you the messenger from the Eagle, who receives the message from The Great Spirit in Native American Medicine.  The Crow then caws the message into “law”.  Anyways, that was all the church I needed.  I knew it.  But I went in anyway.  I sat in my emergency row.  Opened the program, and said, “Nope”.  Got up, and walked out.

The noise in my head was increasingly louder- it was Sheila’s subsystem.  Sheila was nowhere to be found.  But Constantine, a part of Michealangelo, who is a part of Sheila, was there.  I stopped at the deli and Walgreens and went back with a journal and pen and began to do parts work, right there in the church parking lot.

Turns out, Michealangelo’s job is to protect me from the church abuse memories.  Constantines job is to make me look fabulous, even when I don’t feel fabulous.  I call my make-up, “war paint” some days, and my jewelry, “Armor”.  But, anyways, journalled with them, picked up mom and headed back to my place to do some work.

Around the beginning of March, I got out of credit consolidation.  Every part needed a card, dontcha know?  So, Sheila and I took it upon ourself to open a bagillion credit cards- one for almost all her parts.  So, money is tight.  Very tight.  Like I want to go see the Stones at Comerica Park on July 8th in Detroit, but it’s gonna take pulling a rabbit outta my ass.  But, anyways, we’re at my house.

We’re putting away clothes and organizing into drawers (keep), Goodwill and consignment piles.  My head is deafening.  It is so loud.  So, mom goes to work in another room, and I close my eyes and start talking.  Like 7 out of Sheila’s 16 parts, not including Sheila integrated.  Wham!  Boom!  And I’m spent.  Exhausted- mentally, physically, just hit a wall.  Well, so had mom.  So, I drove her home.

I ate my horrible attempt at boiled corned beef, but I had a full belly, fresh rain, clean PJs, and the train whistle.  I slept from 6:30 pm till 11:30 pm.  It is now 12:09 am on Monday morning.  I have to leave at 6:30 to go see my homeopathic doc near the lake shore.  Then, off to consignment and a doc appointment later this evening downtown.

But, I am most grateful that I worked reeally hard with Sheila.  Sheila was not always an easy, go with the flow part.  She used to be quite contrary.  Now, she’s kind of in amazement at our age- she was only 15, hence why we could love our first love and have a wonderful experience- but now she is 41, my age.  Her body is like me, much different than us at 15.  But she understands things now, she didn’t before.  I’m not exactly all sure what she understands, I just know we’ve let go of our first love, put him into perspective and now we can move on to new relationships.  Which is a huge relief, to everybody, I’m sure.  I know I’m grateful.

I’m grateful for the coping skill of a parts system.  Not real thrilled about the trauma and abuse and horror I had to get to have a parts system, but grateful for the system.  They definitely keep me, the host, on my toes.

I heard the train whistle before I went to bed, er, fell asleep exhausted.  That is usually a good omen for me.  Same for Hawks, I also heard The Five Stairsteps, “O-O-O-H Child, It’s Gonna Get Easier”, definite good omen.  Not smooth sailing from here on out, but definitely a helluva lot easier.

And now that it is 12:18 am, and I have less than five hours before I have to shower before my trip to the witch doctor, maybe I can knock some of this room out.  It’s my bedroom.  The biggest bedroom I’ve ever had.  My parts could never handle it.  Too scary.  But, the bedroom went from being called the “master bedroom”, to “The Sanctuary”, to it’s final name of, “The Master Suite”.  I dig it, Wooooo!!!

So, I’m exhausted, a little bit- is that even possible?  To be a little exhausted?- but I’m ready to tackle things I need and want to do.  Things I couldn’t do yesterday, due to the integration, I can do now.  My poor neighbors.  They never ask.  But if they ever do, “Ima writah”.  Ha!  Put that in your wooden shoe and clog it!  Hey!  I’m allowed one dig for all the dugs I’ve gracefully taken in stride.  Back off.

Yeah, so integration is intense.  One thing about integration, with my system anyway, the closer the part(s) get to integrating, the more active and reactive they become.  Remind me to tell you about Richard.  It’s like saying, “Beetlejuice”, he’s integrated, but I’m always afraid he’s going to come popping back out at the most inopertune time, naturally.

Well kids, that’s all there is from the biggest little town I’ve ever had the pleasure of dwelling in.  Now, maybe, I can get some work done.  OOOH!  J. LO.  “I Luh Ya Papi”  Bad ass song; Bad ass video!!

Namaste, bitches!!!!!

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