What the?

So, I had a dream this morning.  I dreamt I went to Lakeland, sought out Mr. Roach, and we went for a walk.  We’re walking down the road of his trailer park-that’s a fact, can’t make this hit up if I wanted to-and my weapon is constantly changing in my left hand.  We are walking side by side.  And I say something along the lines of, even though what you did to me was completely sick, depraved and null of humanity, I’m okay with it, because it made me who I am today, and the person I am today is a person I really like.  And then I woke up.  What the?

My old therapist kept pushing for integration.  I was informed by my new and improved therapist, we would never have integration, only cooperation.  And I am totally okay with that.  Why?  Because I have a realistic goal, and not some bullshit standard set by some practitioner that doesn’t know what the fuck they are doing.  So, we’re okay with that, we’re okay with where we are and we’re okay with who we are today.

I realized yesterday, I switch alters a lot.  My mom and I were doing a lot of house work.  I realized when I was folding laundry, I was co-conscious with someone.  When I fixed the toilet, I was co-conscious with someone, when I made lunch, I was co-conscious with someone, ad infinitum.

So, I guess, realizing that I have a very intertwined, multivariate and multi layered system, working out some recovery step work with my sponsor (sober 9 years.  8.15.08), and a whole lot of acceptance, I am at a peaceful place.

I would never trust the Roaches, in any capacity.  I would never take a walk with Mr. Roach on my own, I don’t trust them, I loathe and despise them, hell!  They still terrify me.  But I accept what all went on, and it’s not right, but it’s okay.  Why?  Because, today?

I’m okay.






Starting Over

Good evening all.  In case y’all haven’t seen the trend, women are changing their statuses on social media platforms to, : Me Too.  It indicates, in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein scandal, that you, or many women you know have been sexually harassed or sexually assaulted.  If you read this blog, I qualify. 6th grade.  Went to bed, the tit fairy came, woke up with 36B’s.  Not happy.  Not at all.

I’ve been busy.  My therapist and I have been chipping away at this system.  This Phylis, executive, Zuzu, host, then Richard-persecutor, Matthew-rage, Vicky-fun, playful and coquettish side, and Matilde-in charge of all my littles.  There is some overlapping.  Did I mention, that Richard, Matthew, Vicky and Matilde all have systems of their own?  Like, systems of 50+?

I gotta tell ya.  Thursday night, my neighbor and her man were having a drunken row outside my window at like, 4 am.  Friday was a sober, verbally abusive fight.  Last night was quiet.  Of course, her FB is look how perfect my life is bullshit.  And after Dave-got a new sponsor, polished up my step work, so he’s on my list-I knew I would not be with another man for a long time.  And, until Dave died, I would have no peace.  Well, Dave passed and no man.  Okay.  I’ve got a huge shit show psychologically to clean up, recovery to work on daily, a heart that still needs to heal and get to know itself, so after the dramatics of my neighbor this weekend, Thank God and Hallelujah I am man free.  I have always had relationship problems.  With men and women.  Way before the flashbacks began.  Residual memory or something.  But, after the show my neighbor put on- she was so drunk, she wasn’t making words, just drunk, mumbled sounds, I am SO glad I do not have a man in my life.  Earlier tonight, I was like, “God?  Thank you for not letting this opposite sex thing work out.  I am so grateful to you for this.  I promise I will keep working on me, and my DID.”  Holy cheesus.

So, every morning, I have morning meeting.  Sometimes in sobriety recovery I can get all clusterfucked and whackadoodle, and when they ask for a topic, I blurt out with desperation, “STEP ONE!!!!!!!!”.  And I go back to basics.  Having a morning meeting, setting down rules, like:  No new parts; Only I (The Host) can drive, stuff like that.  Communicating with my parts.  Learning what are my feelings in 2017, and what are their feelings from 1978, 1986 or 2015.  Cuz I basically lost my shit.  After the trial and the Interferon- which if you have mental health issues, you should absolutely NOT do Interferon, the cult memories  came, my mom moved here, deaths, people moving aways, relationships crumbling, the lid tore off my rage and never being put back together, weight gain, new psychiatrist, I mean my neighbor living with Dave’s bunky from prison right next door.  I fucking lost my shit.

Good news?  My mind has returned-and I’m stronger than ever.  Bad news?  I have to start rebuilding the Zu.  How do I do this….

Regular communication and love and attention to my systems.  My therapist told me that people who have survived cult abuse have layered, and very intricate and multivariate systems.  with cult survivors, there is no one and done.  I wish, but no.  I broke down the guest bedroom, because I have no friends or relatives who visit, so I turned the room into a healing arts studio.  I have craft paper, and one of my first tasks, is to draw out Richard, Matthew, Vicky and Matilde’s systems.  Then break it down and down and down and down.  I have a bookcase in there and tons of books on trauma, trauma and addiction, the reparenting yourself book, shame books, PTSD books.  It’s a wonderful thing my depression has abated, because I can read now too.  So that should start the end of this week.

I got new tattoo.  It’s on the inside of my forearm.  It reads, ” WARR;OR”.  I find that it fits.  It’s crooked and not perfect and I’m grateful because I’m not perfect, so neither should my tattoo.

Lots has been happening.  My dad has Cancer.  I’m debating placing a complaint on my old therapist.  Do the next right thing, but is that the best thing to do?  I don’t know.  I’m waiting on that…

I’ll write more often, I promise.  I’ve actually had complaints that there haven’t been any new posts.

Hot and fresh out the kitchen, here ya go!!!!