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.

Is this thing on? Testing, Testing 1, 2..Check.

Well, I have no idea why the screen is black and my words are white.  I could make an Old Glory comment, but I digress…

I also haven’t posted since, probably May?  I got out of the Spa May 8th, and then went through a week of partial.  Then, I made a couple of decisions.

1st and foremost- get a new frickin’ sponsor and jump start my program.  I went to the fourth of July party like I do, and someone who I used to- every year, mind you- talking the whole party, ignored, avoided, and insulted me.  All because they think I slept with a dude who is, at least, 25 years older than me.  And they never bothered to ask me.  Hmm, no gender bias there, cha!  So, yesterday I was really down, but having a great physical day.  So physically great, mentally, off my square.  NBD.  I’m used to that. I never have one day where all cylinders are firing at once.  It’s either physical pain, mental pain, or both.  So, I killed my kitchen yesterday.  Just scrubbed the hell out of it.  Took out a lot of aggression.  It’s like, 5 o’clock here, and it feels like ten a.m.  But, I finally touched base with my sponsor.  She said, “Ask yourself this:  What kind of program are they working?”  Ding! Ding!!!  Oh yeah, I forgot- it’s not always, everything is my fault.  There are two people on the plane and there are exits on both sides of the plane for said persons.

BTW, you know there is going to be a Blue Moon this month, here in North America, right?  I mean, Tom Cruise is ditching Scientology to be with his daughter, they’re checking out Pluto- all kinds of weird shit is going on!!!

For example, me?  Where have I been?  Well, I got out of the hospital, and adjusted.  Made a plan, like a five year plan.  I’m looking to get back into acting, I would like to take an Interior Design course or two and meld it with Feng Shui.  My sponsor and her husband are buying an old farm house to turn into a recovery house for women.  Don’t think I’m going to be all up in that, cuz, Damn Skippy!  I am.

I went to The Reverend Horton Heat by myself for my 42nd Birthday-by myself.  I went, July 8, to Comerica park to see The Rolling Stones again.  They were- both concerts were fucking a mazing!!  And I went by Myself.  I’ve started a diet.  I can’t walk a long pace everyday, but if my Fibro doesn’t have me down, I’m doing stuff.  I start Yoga in August.  I have to price out Masseuses. I saw a pain doc for my fibro, and they don’t treat fibro with Narcotics.  Movement is the best cure…except when you go batshit Like I did yesterday, and do too much.

I am seeing ZZ Top in August with my Sponsor and Possibly, Crue/Alice Cooper, with a really great, stand the test of time, friend.  I’m getting my house together.  I’m pulling it all together.

My system…I’ve been trying to live life to the fullest, so they can see what we’ve been missing.  I made a deal with one of the twins, Lily and Sophie.  Sophie is apparently a self injurer, although I have never participated in that behavior.  I have five, huge tattoos, but no mas.  So, I told Sophie, she let herself be known at the last hospitalization, that if she didn’t hurt us, we would get a sleeve done to finish out our right arm.  She was giddy.  So, I also found out I only have 9 Medicare, free standing psych hospital days covered, and then it flips to Medicaid.  So, if by some weird thing happens, and I’m traveling abroad with my ole HIV, and I have a psych meltdown, I’ve basically got to hoard those days like Return of the Jedi.  I gots to be an ewok fighting fucker, mother fucker!!!!

So, what else…Saw Dave walking to the Bus, on his way home from work.  He looked ECSTATIC, HAPPY, and OVERJOYED to see me.  I shit you not.  I just thought, “Fuck.  Now he knows I drive a different car.”  Got a security system for the house.  It’s loud and it works!!!

I’m trying really hard to be happy.  To make a conscious choice to be happy.  All the shit that went down, it’s gone.  It’s happened-It’s OVER!  They can’t hurt me/us anymore.  Dave can try, but he will not succeed in hurting me anymore.  A lot of people can bring me down, knock me off my square, but compared to what I have been through, taint nothing.  Ain’t no thang, but a g-string.

My best friend and my god daughter are moving to Seattle the end of this month.  They just lost their Aunt. Crushing blow for the whole family.  And then, she’s gone.  Next week and a half.  So, yeah.  That has been hard and a whole new way to adapt.  But, I’ve got a life waiting for me.  It’s been calling to me.  I’ve just not heard it until this summer.  My mom told me:  Don’t depend on others, because they will let you down.  I spent my entire 20’s trying to prove her wrong, my 30’s was the time I thought I turned into Wonder Woman, and then, at 35?  I got sober and had to restart my heart.

So, I’ve been a little busy, been fighting this damned fibro, been fighting period.  Good news?  I have grieved my past lovers- that I truly did love, and will always love, and even coming to terms with loving Dave.  That’s a trauma bond.  That one’s going to take a little longer and a little more work.

Okay, my fingers are barking.