Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes…

So, last Sunday, Sheila integrated.  She was my angry, spend money to hurt you, pay attention to me cuz I need your love and don’t know how to ask, part.  She was tired.  I started stepping up in the finances department.  As a result, mom’s been mellower, spending more time with us, because: A.  She’s learning to relax and B. I’m stepping up to the plate more.  So, really, it’s a win/win.

I’m also doing something a peer-age-wise only-offers= holistic therapy.  A combination of traditional talk therapy, holistic principles, yoga and naturopath essentials to bring you/me to optimum health.  Having trouble staying in my root chakra.  That is grounding, your body, the earth.  I’m an air sign-Gemini, yeah, I know, so I like to stay in my crown chakra so I don’t have to deal with the trauma to my body- root chakra.  So, I’m trying really hard to create art/beauty daily, practice my Ahimsas- I am positive statements.  At first, I just wrote them down.  Now I’m verbalizing as I write.  Then, I’ll move up to repeating in the mirror while looking at myself.  Ugh.  I’m dragging my feet.  I’ll own that.  I’m dragging my feet about a lot of things.  And it’s only my time I’m wasting.  It’s just life anyway, right?!  No one gets out of here alive anyway?!  D’OH!!  COME ON ZUZU!!!  FOCUS!!!!

So, I’m sick.  again.  I got the flu from my folks.  Quarantine means quarantine.  No Exceptions.  So, oops.  Now I can’t go to my concert tonight- aside of the horrid gut feeling I have in my stomach about it, which I am totally heeding.  My gut is Ma (God).  When it speaks, Kinda like EF Hutton, I listen.  Whatever happened to them?  Did they go down with everyone else in a coke fueled blaze of glory like most companies in the 80’s?  I wonder who bought them?  Yeah, Morgan Stanley.  Interviewed with them in May of 2001.  I would’ve been doing my internship in the WTC in September of 2001.  I didn’t get the job.  My friend was livid.  I told her, “there’s a reason, we just don’t know what it is yet.”  Holy Moly!

Speaking of New York and God and no such thing as coincidences, I sent a family friend/parents old student a letter with our new address.  Only took me three years…But left to my folks, they never would’ve sent her a letter.  I adore her.  She went to New York City to be a dancer.  I remember her doing Pas De Chats in our kitchen making our whole kitchen shake (Our old house was 1890 ish) and we’d go visit her.  And she is in my top 20 favorite/amazing women I’ve been blessed to meet.  Well, I received a letter (2, actually) from her yesterday.  The day she got my letter, was the day she busted in her OLD building- in 35+ years, she finally moved!-and retrieved her mail.  As was her change of address form.  Mailperson ain’t all that, apparently.  I can relate.  So, I sent her an email.  She’s amazing.  SO Grateful to be reconnected.  Whew.

I did a new map and made new treatment goals.  I’m down to therapy once a week.  Doing the holistic therapy twice a week.  So, as soon as I decide to shit, get off the pot and improve my quality of life, we’re gonna be rockin.

I had my MRI for my right knee last Saturday; I go Tuesday for results.  God, NO KNEE SURGERY!!!  I REFUSE TO HAVE KNEE SURGERY!!!  But, it’s my own damn fault.  My Pre-Diabetes?  Probably now type II.  My fault.  So, I’ve got a lot on my plate.  How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time…one freaking bite at a time.

Well, I’m having a spate of ambition, so I’m going to finish up some tasks that I didn’t finish yesterday.  Then, I’ll collapse.  My fever didn’t break.  I’m still hot, but I feel better.  Tired, but not dying.  Well, hell, we’re all one day closer to our Lord, but whatever.

Have a great day!!  At least you’re not in a third world country!!  And if you are?  My soul goes out to you…Gratitude 101.

Bad Ass Bitch

Howdy!

I have been a hot fucking mess lately.  This is the time of year for Halloween and all things reminiscent of the cult.  I am EXTREMELY hypervigilant now and sleep one night on, two nights off.  Why do you think I used to take 16 Klonopin, 4 Xanax, Choral Hydrate and Oxi Contin, AND drink?  And my shrink wonders why I think about the sister fellowship.  *eye roll*

Anyways.  Sundays, worst days of the week for me, aside from 3-6 pm everyday.  So, this last Sunday, Matthew decides to integrate.  Just is like- you got this.  I tell him I do- now, see?  I can talk to my system in my head and my system and the safe place and their rooms, and common areas, etc. are all in my head.  I suppose, I could draw it out, but after chair position for five plus minutes this morning, stairs are not my friend.  However, Matthew is like, “you got this”?  Yeah.  Open the door.  “You serious?”  Yeah, open the door.  He does.  For the first time since I can ever, EVER remember, he is not wearing his overcoat, his trench, dig?  His fedora, all that.  He’s in a white t-shirt and black trousers, and all the littles, like five of em, boys and girls, just tackle him to the ground and smother him with love.

In my safe place for my parts, I have a waterfall, lake/salt free Ocean, with dolphins.  Happy, no predator stuff.  So, Matthew dives in and goes swimming with the Dolphin.  And breathes.  For the first time, ever, Matthew inhaled, and let it go.  He’s been waiting to exhale for a long time.  No pun intended.  And if I would look good in Orange, yes, I would have set fire to Dave’s truck.  Hellz yeah.  Nero, bitch.  But, I digress…

So, ever since Sunday, I’ve had no sleep, on and off.  Like I said, one day on, two off, bitchy fucking people, mean fucking people.  All coming at me.  It’s like they know I’m on my own- get to that in a minute- and I’m like, fair fucking game.  It’s crazY!!!  Absolute bonkers, yeah!  I unfriended two long-time- whom I thought- were friends.  One was not.  Hadn’t been a friend since she got wrapped up with a guy, the other chose her husband.  Totally understand both, but the first?  She was like, rubbing my face in it?  Why?  Cuz you’re engaged with no ring, guaranteed to be miserable ever after?  YUCK!!!!

No thanks.

So, me and my labels?  Which are as removable as they are applicable, will be over here, trying to figure out who we are under all these AXIS dx.  Fuckers.  Strengths perspective.  No, you’re an Axis !, and that’s WHAT, WHO, and ALL you are to them.  The DSM was invented to treat, but mainly to classify, disseminate, and label for insurance purposes so people could get paid, yo.  Straight.  You’re not a strength, you’re a file.  A “Patient”.  You’re not human, you’re a number, an insurance claim.  Quality of life in mental health is zero.  They could give a fuck.  Too bad you’re a female with psychosis and the only neuroleptics (anti-psychotics) that work are Zyprexa and Seroquel and you have somnabulism (sleep eating) and crave sweets, lack energy and get fat.  But you’re clock radio is quiet now, isn’t it?  Fuck you.

Anyways, sometimes, being in recovery with the Axis that I have, DID, is the worst thing.  Then, HIV?  HOLY FUCK.  There is truth to the stereotypes, to the diagnoses.  Otherwise we wouldn’t receive treatment.  Appropriate treatment.  And I’ve had two different rounds of nine treatments of ECT.

I was walking by the grocery line today and Drew Barrymore is on the cover of Star or some shit, with the headline quote: “I’ve had the weirdest life ever”.  Ever?  Really.  Swim in my water, punkin.  Swim in some of my friend’s pools.  There’s 31 flavors of fucked up that you won’t experience anywhere, even if your gene pool is Barrymore.

Back to the point, Matthew integrated and has been very quiet and away.  Gone.  Weird.  Explains the hypervigilince(sp) at night.  Who is going to protect me?  Who is going to keep me safe?  WTF, over?!  I’m terrified.  My fiercest, bad ass, warrior, protector, who stood up to Dave, and Dave hated since cuz from what I remember when I switched to Matthew?  Told Dave right the fuck off and called his shit, OUT!!!  Where is that fierce protector?  That loyal dude?  FUCK!!

He’s in my heart, safe.  My part is no longer splintered, separate from my core, but part of me again.  Just like when I was three before all the shit went down.  I was/am a creative, smart kid/woman.  Matthew had always been a part of me, but when the shit hit the fan, I created him into an imaginary friend type, almost?  I could pull him out like Spiderman, put him on, kick ass, then have Alfred help me through the crisis and fallout the following days from fighting the evil in my head.  The evil that Matthew and I, us, we…me saw and experienced and felt and smelled and tasted and saw, and heard screams, and physical pain and terror, and recoil, and just abject fucking terror and no one to protect 4 -year -old me from monsters and atrocities against God and man.  So, I created Matthew to protect me.

Follow?

Now, he’s gone, and I’m closer to integration- complete.  Everyday, every experience, every interaction, I am extremely hyper critical of myself and how I re-act and react and reenact.

I’m hungry.  no.  I don’t want a fucking taco!

Sanctuary! Sanctuary!!!

So, I’m lonely.  HIV, DID, and being overweight leads you- oh yeah, along with low self esteem-drops you right at the feet of being lonely.  So, I got on Tindr.  Wanted to see if I could get my, uh, needs met.  Also, to see what all the hubub was about.  Well, I swiped right, and so did Anthony.

Anthony and I talked for four hours the first night.  He came over and we talked for for four more. One small problem- Anthony would be homeless by today and had a SCRAM bracelet on and had just been let out of his halfway house into renting a room.  Now, here’s an interesting fact:  Ever since I started to have memories and flashbacks way back in 99/2000-2001, I have been madly attracted to Sociopaths.  Can’t shake em.

Cliff, Scott, Dave and Magic, and now Anthony.  So, I offer for him to stay here.  WTF?!  He had read me so well, I was hooked.  Sociopaths do that.  They can read a mark so well, know exactly what to say, and get under your skin.  So, Anthony grew up on the East side of Detroit. 7-8 mile near Gratiot, on the streets, “because nobody wanted” him.  He was a car thief, and at 12, was in Maxey by Ann Arbor.  So, I knew he had some shit.  And it wasn’t just an attachment disorder.  Three days.

I offered him up the chance to come correct with me. No way can they do that.  He told me he had a Domestic- a misdemeanor.  I laughed. Went to OTIS- 6 years for intimate Assault and Battery, which being his third time in- automatic habitual offender.  Dropped him like a bad habit.

So, Tuesday, I go to my therapist- that’s when I dropped him.  We talked.  We’re going to do a workbook- Mindfulness for Prolonged Grief.  And work on my cognitive errors. My story ended Sunday.  I need to begin a new life/story.  I need to return to the program.  I need, I need…I need to do.

The reason I finally didn’t act impulsively, was that I- my house is my sanctuary. It’s where my healing happens, for the most part.  I have a part system to keep safe.  If I don’t act like a responsible adult, my system will not trust me, and will take over.  Can’t have that.  I had to protect not only myself, but my system- which are one in the same.  That was the whole purpose of this blog.  If you want to heal from your trauma and integrate, you gotta act like a protective adult. The parents wee never had, the ones that were supposed to protect us and soothe us and love us.  If we don’t step up and take steps to protect ourselves, which includes our systems, we’re never going to heal.  We’ll never integrate.  Letting yet another Sociopath into my home and my life- I’d be dead within two weeks.  Whether by his fists, or my drinking- he was a drinker too- real winner. One of my mom’s coworkers told her- she’s not going to bring home an accountant.  Wouldn’t it be a hoot if I did?  I’d invite her to the wedding to just be a bitch.

But, I’ve been dope sick.  Quit the Norco.  Had a cold/stomach flu on top of the dope sickness.  That’ll teach me.  That’ll learn me, as I really like to say.  I had a dream about an Octopus.  Octopus medicine is very powerful and very fitting-clearly, or the Octopus would not have come to me- for what I am about to embark on.

You ready?

I am.