Lower Than A Snake’s Nuts

Yup.  That’s pretty much how I feel.  It’s 4:24 EST.  Can’t sleep again.  Fell asleep at 8:30.  Now, I’m starving, in more ways than physically.

So, my neighbors did NOT fuck with my security system.  The magnet fell out, someone put it on my door, trying to be kind.  Uh HUH!!!!  Who’s the paranoid, hateful, angry, person with Hyper vigilance due to their PTSD?  Yeah.  That would be me.  Hence, why I feel lower than a snake’s nuts.

I sent my ex an email.  One of his friends stalked my Facebook page.  Lame.

Dave lived in Okemos.  I’m thinking of taking a road trip to see where he was staying at.  It even had his email address.  That’s fucking useless.  It was funny.  The address was not as delusional as his others have been.  Definitely.  I miss the man I fell in love with everyday.  He’s gone, and even if there is a funeral, I cannot go.  He’s still listed in the system.  I don’t know what happened.  I don’t know if he’ll be in a grave or cremated.  Doesn’t matter.  He’s gone.  We all end up the same way and sometimes, the same place.

It hurts, and if you have ever loved an addict/alcoholic, you know the pain and heartache we put you through.  Dave was an IDU- Intravenous Drug User- he shot Meth.  By the end, I think he was smoking it.  Hell, I think if he could put it on his food like salt, he would.  He was a really good cook.  Used to be a pastry chef.  He always knew where the great little restaurants were.  He always knew where the good food was.  If he hadn’t been a sociopath, he would have been a, “foodie”.  He would have been posting food porn on Facebook and Instagram.  I really miss him.  Don’t get me wrong, once I found out that it was all true and he was as sick as I had feared, I was terrified of him.  Welcome to my Nightmare…He was my best friend, as best as a Sociopath can get.  There was even a Dave/Zuzu sunset tonight.  He was funny.  He was incredibly disciplined.  Neat.  Groomed.  I always knew when he was going to go on a bender.  He’d get real quiet, real skulky and sulky, go lock himself in the bathroom, shave and everything, and then disappear for 12+ hours.  I hated that.  He’d say, “there’s a meteor shower tonight at three am, I’ll wake you up so we can see it”, okay.  I wake up, there’s a note that says, “I went grocery shopping at Meijer, be right back.”  The Meijer on Plainfield?  Was a twist and turn away from a real trailer park out of a Rob Zombie horror movie.  I mean, kids running around that you can tell there was an incest epidemic in the trailer park.  In other words, a few of those trailers were meth labs.  If they blew, no one would be missed.  It was creepy.  Yeah, I got to go there.  Got stared down.  It was fall.  The leaves hadn’t been raked or blown away in years.  Three feet high around the foundation of these old, seventies trailers.  All in primary, bright chromatic colors.  So fucking creepy.  Dave was very creepy.  I found a priests costume in his closet.  A fake one, not a real one.  But still.  DL, anyone?

Christ.  See?  That’s the double bind?!  I love you, I need/want you, but you keep hurting me. What do I do?!!!  WTF DO I DO NOW THAT YOU ARE GONE YOU FUCKER??????!!!!!!!

“My heart is a Ghost Town…”  Adam Lambert

Stand up or sit down…

August 12th, 2015, I was admitted to the spa- the View.  I had to go for medical clearance first.  My part/parts come at 1 pm, and stay till 2 pm.  They make me sleepy, slurry, nodding out, it’s like I’m overdosing.  See?  It’s a quarter to two, and I feel better.  I can’t quite crack that one.  I’m working on it.

So, I go in, don’t do trauma.  Because it’s about time I learn how to do normal living skills.  I think it’s safe to say, after 7 years, I’ve graduated from Forest View’s Trauma Program.  Maybe not trauma, per se, but definitely time to take on some new healing modalities.

Over the weekend, from Saturday afternoon till Saturday night, I have constant flashbacks- flooding.  And because the flashbacks are so foul, I puke that whole time.  My poor roomie!  So, remember the first, “Eddie Hamilton”?  The one who I saw hanging from his closet- oxford had a lot of old homes- high ceilings.  Anyways, The High Priestess, whose name is Esther, closest I can recall, is holding my hand and hissing in me ear:  You can run this town.  You can call the shots here.  You can have all the power to make the decisions here.  She died later 1978, in the apartments by Huntoon.  Cancer.  COPD.  Something with her lungs.

Anyways, she requests to be left alone with, “Eddie” and I.  She instructs me to cut out his penis, and instructs me to suck all the blood out of it.  While I’m doing this-she had BIG guards that helped her.  Not guards.  Guards are helpful.  Henchmen.  Definitely henchmen.  She’s lying on the floor, diddling herself.  Whatever.  She didn’t hurt me.  That’s my thought process at 4.  She’s okay, she didn’t throw me to the wolves, try to rape me (?!!!), or beat me.

So, I remember the man in the blue robe.  The leader with the dark hair and grey eyes.  He’s Irish and Italian.  Big dude.  Curly hair.  Brownish/grey eyes.  He was arrested at Beltane in 1978.  He was discovered with two human skulls and various human limb bones.  He went for life.

So, this are the things that I’m flashing to in the spa.  I saw Katy Tuesday.  I told her about the 17 year old, six month pregnant left handed Bride of Satan, that was killed, her baby sacrificed, and how they ate her small intestine.  I told Katy that.  She finally shut up.  I think she wasn’t believing me with 79 parts and down to 5.  Cuz I had stalled in recovery.  I was living life.  I work on this from now till May.  I have from May till the end of August to live it up and pretend I am a normal human being,  I hate doing this.  Putting all this negativity into the world.  I hate it.  But what am I supposed to do?  Keep it all in?  Go mad because I’m afraid?  I challenged the cult’s biggest lie:  If you don’t join us, we will kill you or you must be killed or kill your self by 40/45.  So I made it through 40.  Now, I have a lot of time to work through before age 45.  I hope I can sail  through it.  Halloween is always so difficult.  That is the anniversary of the end of the cult and the beginning of the torture by the Roaches.  I remember hearing Mr. Roach say: “Well, we just have to ruin her.  Destroy her so she can’t finger us.  Kill her.”  And Lord, did they try.

I started having flashbacks in 2001.  About two weeks after the Roaches sold their house and moved off the block, you know, moved on the other side of Oxford, I began to have these horrendous flashbacks.  Sundays were the worst.  I can finally listen to church bells without freaking out.  We went back to the Oxford UCC church in the village where, “Eddie Hamilton” was covered in Lime.  All that remained were pieces of bone and teeth.  Esther said: Build the tower.  Bell tower.  It’s awful.  I can’t go back to Oxford.  I really can’t.  It’s too upsetting.  Too many fucked up memories.  Twisted.

I twisted my knee.  Fluid on my knee and they found more arthritis in my right knee.  We’re going to ZZ Top tomorrow night.  I saw them in high school.  They are amazing.  Dave- has been moved to Lansing.  I got no notice or anything.  I don’t know why I feel hinckey about that.  Why did they move him?  Why didn’t I get a notice/  WTF is going on, over?

I celebrated seven years drink free Saturday, August 15th in the spa.  They gave me Norco for my Chronic pain, mid August.  I saw the Addictionologist to step me down.  I’m thinking of switching programs.  I was addicted to Oxi-Contin.  For two years.  Awful.  So bad.  Chloral Hydrate, Valium, Xanax, Actiq pops.  Fuck, how and why am I still alive?

I found some emails from Dave.  Bat shit crazy.  Simple but difficult abuse-gas lighting.  I knew it was bullshit back then, I, “It’s not worth my soul to lie to you”?  Really, Dave?  Really?  What about lying to 1000-3000+ people?  Is that worth your soul?  No.  And you know why?  Because you don’t have one.  Never did.  Bastard.