It was a mistake!

25 11 2013

It’s almost my moms birthday.  I have been looking over my old post trying to find some to send my mother to share the bond I feel with her one more time, and I found this. It was originally posted on  Jul 4, 2012 .  One of my first posts here and long ago lost in all I have written.

I had to post it again.  I don’t know that anyone but me would find it funny but it’s always worth sharing a laugh.   More than that it’s a wave at an old friend.  You are loved and missed and I am so sure you know that, as I can see you active in the lives of your baby girls.   Hugs and smooches my friend.

with love,

Sincerely, SB

****************************************************************************************************

I tried to bury the household pet turtle and it kicked off a late night of lying on the bed with our feet kicked up like school girls having a sleep over; chatting and laughing.  It was a mistake that my sister-in-law thought that she would never have made!

To start with the water smelled funny and had a suspicious film on it that I hadn’t seen before. Then I fed him twice and he hadn’t even lifted his head. In our family, I am the one that takes care of those kind of things so I went out back and dug him a hole.

I picked up the bowl and headed out, and it wasn’t until I had poured out almost all the water that he suddenly sprang to life!  And to think we were that close to having room for a cat!

Valerie has decided that we have to restrict his T.V. time due to the fact that he has either watched to many Geico commercials and was beginning to immitate the oppossum or we foiled a planned escape using the methods that he had learned watching finding Nemo.  Either way she was sure that the T.V. was a bad influence on him.

As long as we were on the subject of death and dying, (and if you think that’s a tad morbid you don’t know my sister-in-law) we spent awhile laughing over the coffin that she had picked out.  It was Purple!   She “found one much cheeper at Cosco but she couldn’t get it in the color she wanted” so we’re going to get it and completely cover it in faux purple gems and right across the face of it we’re putting Live, Love and Laugh.  Like her it will be an original!

Valerie fights hard for every moment she has here and is giving me lessons close up and hands on that it’s not really what happens to us, but our attitude about it that determines our level of happiness in this life.  Over that, we have complete control.

You have to find the roses; the thorns will always find you.





Confessions of a Grooveshark Junky…

13 06 2013

I though “Crimson and Clover”was the most beautiful song alive.  I would lay on the floor with a speaker on each side of my head, and listen in awe as the music shifted from one side to the other.  It was one of my first experiences with STEREO sound!  Most of my records were passed down by my parents and all mono till then.  I had a “stereo”, but you couldn’t experience that sound without a stereo record!

I have one real addiction in my old age, Grooveshark.  All my music is on cassettes.  I discovered that not everything is replaceable  when I went out looking for a new one to replace the stereo from my grandfather.   It had begun to eat my tapes.  You know you can’t buy a decent cassette player anymore!

Somewhere in a plastic grocery sack, in a box, in a storage unit, in California, is my cassette collection, complete with about 20 personal recordings of my own family, that will never be played again.  Oh well.  Such is life.  It was more heartbreaking then when I discovered I could no longer buy 126 film for my camera that was literally glued to my right hand till then.

Anyway I found myself alone for the first time in my life only about 5 years ago.  I left my husband.  I had my clothes and my computer, and a tiny apartment on the second floor of a converted building that was once a flour mill.

I borrowed camping gear from my kids till I could get some furniture.  I bought two bath towels and 2 knives, forks, and spoons from the open stock at Walmart.  I cooked in the same pot that I ate out of and slept in a sleeping bag on the floor.

I had 2 camp chairs so I could have company and that was it.  My apartment echoed for the whole first month because I had to save every last penny I earned to pay off the deposit that my landlord graciously let me move in without paying.

It was then that I discovered Grooveshark.  There were several versions of it but it took me no time at all to realize that laying on my stomach on the bare wood floor for hours picking out music wasn’t working for me, so Grooveshark was it.  I am up to 10 playlists to fit my every mood now, and this is what has made me the junky that I am.

I have all my favorites from when I first discovered music in my teens on one.  I have all the country that my mother loved and those old fifty’s tunes of my fathers that I grew up with on others.  I have my workout music, and my suicidal music, dish washing music some clasical, some jazz, 80’s hits, and a whole list of odd ball stuff I have collected that I can’t put a heading on.  Pat Metheny, Alanis Morissette, Dan Hicks, and Nils Molvaer couldn’t have less in common but their all on that list!

My best friend lived right next door and often brought me coffee in the mornings.  She would sit with me and listen and talk for hours some days and we made her up a list so we could play her favorites when she was there.

Tommie was just a few years older than I, and we didn’t listen to a lot of the same stuff, but she knew music.  You could say a few lines and she could tell you what the song was, what year it came out and who did it.  When she wasn’t around I would remember a few words and have to type them into Google, so that I could add it to one of my lists.  We spent a lot of our hours together just remembering all the music we ever loved and sharing it with each other.

When I wasn’t at work, back in that empty apartment it was all I had; just me and the music.  I would lay on that sleeping bag and crank it up.  In just a few seconds I would be whisked away.  With one song I would be 11 again, laying on the diving board enjoying the sun and the calm of my Aunts pool just getting a tan.  With another I would be crying out all the pain my heart was hanging on to with long choking sobs.  With others I would be heart to heart right next to my parents, both gone for years now.

For three years I lived in that apartment and I never got used to living alone.  I hated every minute when someone else wasn’t there, and it seemed like it would never end.  The music often went all night long.  One of my first acquisitions when I started buying things were a set of headphones so that I could crank it up without disturbing Alice downstairs.

One day I just decided I couldn’t do it anymore.  Living alone wasn’t for me and I went about changing my life, yet again.  Now here I am living in Florida, over 2000 miles away from my kids, my friend and everything I knew then.

Funny thing that playlist of my best friends picks has become my favorite list now; and it always takes me right back there to the two of us having coffee and Groovesharking music together.

This one is for you Tommie!  “It’s My Life”  Heart to Heart again.





I have been stuck

9 03 2013

in what I thought was a place of nothing; no pain or feeling or need.  I have been angry at myself feeling it was just total lack of motivation.  A pitiful excuse of a life wasted.  I keep finding myself crying and feeling how stupid it is; I AM, for doing it.  I have no reason to be sad. I quip that we are all dying, everybody dies.

Part of me feels that it is a gift.  Death puts an end to this terminal pain we are sentenced to at birth.  I try to make myself stop typing her name.  Stop making everything in my life revolve around her.  She is gone!  It is done, over, I can move on: I can’t.

Val used to hate how people would make those who died into saints.  It is OK to speak ill of the dead, she would say. “If they were an asshole in life they are no better than what they were because they are dead.”  When I speak of her I can feel me doing that.  Sticking her up on that pedestal that she hated.  She was human and she was flawed, and I miss her.

There were a few times she told me she didn’t want me to stay.  She said I know you did this for others and it was OK, but they weren’t me.  “This will hurt too much, You should go”.  You don’t know me, I would tell her, I don’t think of death the way you all do.  I will be fine.

I feel guilty because my family wants me back.  I have truly missed them.  I honestly grieve the time I have missed with that precious new baby girl, and the equally beloved older grandchildren as well.

I feel guilty for every day of progress I haven’t made.  For as many days as God has granted me that I have wasted.  For all the beautiful moments and gifts that I refuse to notice while I am stuck here depressed.

I have felt that guilt weighing me down just adding to the pain I already carry and yet deny.

Val was right it is different.  The pain I felt when I lost my Aunt, Father, and Mother to Cancer, was different, then the pain I feel for her.  I miss her in a much more personal way. It is major denial to say she isn’t gone from my life because she is still in my heart.  There is nothing new she can give me from there.

It doesn’t seem right that I haven’t wanted to live the life God gave me and I am still here:  Yet she loved living and she is gone.  I need her to tell me its OK to move forward without her, that she won’t feel that I loved her less if I do.

Val loved life.  She was never like me.  Cancer robbed her of years that she wanted to spend with her children.  She still had things she wanted to do and see.

Cancer even robbed her of so much of the enjoyment she should have had of the years Chemo gave her.  It was an endurance contest and in the end it beat her.  She was tired and ready to let go.

I thought I was at peace with her passing.  That I shouldn’t feel pain.  This place of denial is the nothing that I have been stuck in.  I have refused to just feel the loss and pain.   I have feared posting anything like this as I really didn’t want to add anything to the pain of others but I realize now that it wouldn’t.

Pain expressed isn’t added to the pain in the world, it was already there.  If others read this and feel pain, it is only pain they already have and have found no way to express either.  Maybe it isn’t a horrible thing if we cry.  Maybe it isn’t a horrible thing if I do nothing for a while and grieve.  Letting it hurt may be the only way I have of letting go.   Perhaps it honors us both that I should do so.





I have been wrapping myself in depression…

3 03 2013

curled in a ball unable to do even the simplest things that I KNOW pull me out.  I have been here so many times before that I knew this was coming!  I tried not to predict its path.  I knew what I needed and because I felt what was best for me was bad for others and I waited till I am stuck in the mist of it.   I have been here before.

I keep trying to grab onto the positive.  Keep looking forward.  Keep holding on to some thread of a dream that might draw me back into this life.

This last week I have done not one good thing!  NOTHING!  I have to work to keep the pain of just that from overwhelming me.  I am fighting back the fear that says I am nothing… just like my Aunt and my Father used to say, “You are trash like your mother”,  “You will never be anything, you will never have anything.” This morning I was thinking “All this crap swimming around in my head!” and you know what that got me???

Dory!  God knows that I have been beaten with HIS Bible so he speaks to me in the silliest things.  He sent me Dory.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBtc254NIMc

I watch that stupid video and know God is speaking to me and as the tears are flowing I feel not so alone anymore.  Not so afraid to move forward with faith and watch what HE can do with what others have discarded!

I am not an artist; I am not beautiful, or creative, or strong, and I don’t feel capable of big things, but God knows I need to be.  God YOU make wonderful things!  Make something of ME!  Please don’t leave me this pile of trash that so many see so clearly!  I know that’s why you brought me here to be with Val.

Val never preached.  She never judged.  She never told me of her faith but she lived it every day.  She isn’t the only one.  Why Carla?  Why would you send me Carla to lift me up and tell me of your love when I abandoned her child, my Grandchild, and made a life without them?

I see them contrasted with the Christians in my life and I see, really see, that the hurt that robbed me of being able to wrap myself in the label, hasn’t robbed me of YOUR love.

Today I am Grateful.  I will swim, even though I am afraid; even though I feel wrapped in darkness without any sense of direction or peace, even though I don’t feel like I have the strength to move forward anymore.  I will just keep moving, because I know that is what your telling me to do.

I am following YOU.





Found it…

28 01 2013

here in my cat!  I have to thank God constantly for his wisdom and the grace he has shown me.  I didn’t know when God brought her into my life that I would be the one to need her.  I didn’t know how little human touch would soothe my hurts or how soon I would find out: when he pushed up the urgency for me to go get her… but I truly believe HE did.

She starved herself to the point I worried about her just to get to be in the same room with me.  The more pain I am in the closer she stays.  Right now she is perched watching just inches from the keyboard patient with my need to write.

This morning she let me sob into her fur and nuzzled against my cheek, not minding the snot and tears, or caring about the wetness.  Last night she pushed so closely up against me that I felt her heart beating against mine.  Her CPR keeping mine going.

She puts a paw up to my cheek and pulls me closer to her to give me soft little nose kisses and leans in to give me whole body hugs.  How perfect a creature and how great the love of the one who sent her to me.

Yesterday I could feel only pain and anger and today because of her I have a heart full of Gratitude.  Thank You… How Great YOU are.  Thank you.





…sincerely SB.

21 01 2013

For the last few months I have been caught up in the drama of having a family member close to dying and emotionally I have divorced myself from everything else.

I only realized how divorced I have been in the last couple of days after the death of a fellow DID Blogger.  Sara was one of the first bloggers I followed when I joined WordPress and yet for the last few months I haven’t check her blog at all.

Some like Crazy in the Coconut, Vwoop Vwoop, and Depressed Moose are so prolific that they are always at the top of my page when I get in a mood to read but somehow I missed her most recent posts, and now she is gone.

There is an extreme bias against the mentally ill.  Those who don’t have DID, don’t know what its like to lose control of who you are and how you present to others, but we do.  

Sara wrote that people with DID commit Suicide more often than even people with severe depression and I believe this is true.  It is hard for anyone to live with our mistakes, but if your basic belief system is in place, you attempt to live close to those beliefs.   When you don’t have that protection your resulting actions will reflect that as well.

With me I have extreme conflicts between the one who believes all her power and worth is wrapped up in her sexuality, and the one who is very religious.   People who claim that we are all tempted and don’t all give into that temptation, don’t even live on the same planet as we do.

The difference is you have the advantage of that belief system when you make those decisions.  We bear responsibility for actions of parts of ourselves that don’t share our basic belief system and morals.  Often they don’t share our memories or history either.

I have had encounters with people who knew me that I didn’t know.  People who would have expectations that I would do things that the current occupant couldn’t imagine doing, and found offensive.  When that is normal for you the shame is something you carry with you always.

The outside world can’t imagine that any part of us really doesn’t know what the rest of us knows.  Internally it is just as hard for us to understand what is going on, and to deny that we have responsibility for all that we do.  

They call what we do “Dissociation” which implies that some part of it is voluntary, or an action we took intentionally to distance ourselves from pain.   That’s wrong!  It is brain damage, just like that caused by a stroke and nothing we did or didn’t do gave us this disorder.  Those that caused the trauma did.  We need that knowledge in our heart and mind.

The external world judges us when we are not as capable as they think we should be, but there is some part of us that buys into the fact that we have done this to ourselves and totally strips us of any of the protection we should have.

Would you judge someone harshly who stumbles on crutches after a car accident?  We tend to take on some culpability for our own condition as if we had been the driver but if you have DID you were not driving!  You were a small child and no part of you is guilty for you having this disorder.

It’s our internal score keeper that needs  re-educated so that our system has something to fight back with when the outside world condemns us.  My heart breaks that Sara didn’t have that protection.  We all need it.

If you are young and have DID please try to realize that it gets so much better with time.   Surround yourself with a positive support system and give yourself that time.   It does get better.   Just like a stroke victim you will heal and can retrain your brain to function in ways that make you more capable, and that make this life more livable.

Sara, I hope you now have the peace, love and understanding that you were denied in this life.   Thank you for sharing yourself with us.





Please forgive me …

28 12 2012
for not being able to share the happy moments we had over the holidays.  There are some moments when we are able to laugh but I have sat here for 2 days now trying to share Christmas dinner with you and just can’t.  I only feel the sadness and just don’t have it in me to be able to pull anything else up right now.
Valerie hasn’t eaten anything in 5 full days now and has radically reduced the amount that she drinks and smokes as well.  Her body is shutting down.  For my Dad and Bunny it was about 3 weeks from the time they stopped eating till they died.  For both the last few days were in a coma state.
I managed to get her to her Dr appointment yesterday and they gave her fluids and steroids to boost her up.  She has another appointment for Monday but the way he shook his head I could see he doesn’t feel we should be doing this … he thinks we should just let her go.  Bob was totally freaking out when it looked like she wasn’t going to the Dr.   I feel judged by him but we are not ready!
The Doctor wants her on Hospice but Val refuses hospice services.  She says she still wants to fight this, but when we try to push her to do what she needs to to stay alive, she swears that she just can’t.  I feel stuck unable to feel or function really.  No tears or crying just nothing.
Part of me is shutting down too because if I feel anything its angry.  She wants me here but I no longer feel that I am able to do anything to help her anymore.  She doesn’t want me getting up with her,  She says it’s not good for me not to sleep through out the night.  I cook and she says nothing tastes right.  I am throwing out her tea and refreshing only to have her barely sip when she gets it.   I will drive anywhere to get her anything that she wants and she doesn’t eat or drink it when she gets it.

We are all sleeping a lot.   She didn’t want to die and ruin the holidays.  She has no obtainable goals left.  This isn’t going to be an easy Month.

“She wants me here but I no longer feel that I am able to do anything to help her anymore”.   Wow… that was a light bulb moment …I need to actively do things to feel useful but what she needs is just me…not anything but the emotional support of loving her and being here.
She just wants me to hold her hand and be here and really that is the hardest job of all.
It is incredible to me how just the act of writing helps.  The second I got that I realized that I don’t feel helpless or angry anymore. To love, is to be happy with.  Love is the only thing that really does help.  I hate it when I forget that and react to my own insecurities and hurt feelings.
So today we start again and just hope to get it right.




Struggling to be one

13 08 2012

I have spent a life time trying to manage this disorder by making myself struggle to BE one uniform single-minded human being.  I thought once I went through the process to be integrated life would be simple and I would feel whole and healthy.

Well more like paranoid and confused.   I don’t know what I want.  To be the singleton I am muting and diluting the things that made me passionate and live on the edge and today it feels just too damn good to be out there.

It’s early and yet I have switched several times this morning already.  I am full of ideas and my mind is creative and active.   There are many here who have found ways to organize their lives and co-ordinate things around their others.  They have found ways to co-operate and take advantage of what is curse when you’re too young to be able to do that.

Being this age and maturity level is a huge benefit even if some of my parts never got this far.  We still benefit from the ability to share who we are with the others… to step in and out of one skin then the other and not lose the memory of what they experienced.

This vibrating string that I am seeing since I arrived makes me aware that it isn’t too late to tap into the gifts they each had and bring them to their fullest potential.  I want to flush them out and allow them to become fully personalized.

One of the bloggers that I follow has their system mapped out and named but I have family that freaks and try’s to get me on drugs when they see me being what they feel is off from NORMAL behavior.

I can’t blame them really.  The repeated hospitalization’s and unwanted drama more than they can cope with.   I too have been scared by this.  It’s almost creepy sometimes feeling like the skin you’re in doesn’t belong to you.

The first time I can remember being HIM, I could see myself.  I was thin and actually had the anatomy that fit who I WAS, a teen age boy.  I reached out and touched it with some part of me aware that that shouldn’t have been possible.  Weird effect on my brain, that being inside and outside.  The I that knows THIS body flipped that I experienced HIM so personally.

I can’t experience HIM that way anymore.  Something in my brain freaks out by the weirdness of knowing that body and mine don’t match…and now he just appears in my head.  Still, sometimes I wish…  I mean DANG that was intense!

Only someone on the outside of this disorder can believe that it’s acting or just a bid for attention.  After it’s over you can doubt the reality of it … but in the moment … the WHO you are then, is as real or more real than the one you know.

I can be bigger then life, or I can temper them all and be normal.  I feel blessed to have a choice, but also exhausted by the idea that I can wake up tomorrow or even seconds from now and remake it in another way and we are all stuck in that moment with what ever who is out decides.

The I’s in me have their own idea’s about how I should live my life and only another multiple could possibly understand how frustrating and disabling that can be.  Right now we are consuming others blogs like a starved man consumes a sparse meal trying to glean any information that would help us to function better.





Thank you Ariel Gore…

21 07 2012

Because of you today I branded myself.  “She spent her life not able to hang on to anything until the day she got it all!”

It kind of gives me something to hang on to that looks a little like hope, or promise of some kind of future different then the life I have known.  One where I won’t push everyone I love away feeling like I’m poison.  A future where I don’t need to sleep on the floor or to discard everything I love to make sure that I never get comfortable, never trust.

If you have read any of my other posts you know I am 3000 miles from my kids, cat computer, lover, paintings and the few possessions that I had managed to hang on to over the years.

I never seem to keep more then what will fit in a mid-sized car, and it alarms me now to count how many times I have found myself exactly where I am with nothing but a few clothes and a toothbrush over a thousand miles from anything that meant home to me.

I think, “well things don’t really mean anything to me” but that would mean I wouldn’t miss them and for the most part I don’t … but parts of me do, and they bleed for paintings that they can’t ever finish.  Or the book that took them years to write, that is lost.  The cat that was the only animal in 50 years that I have ever had that I attached to.  The grandchild that month after month calls someone else Grandma and has forgotten that I exist.  The stuffed animal my daughter had given me, that my step daughter hugged in my favorite picture of her just before the state stepped in to take her away.

(It was the death of my second marriage that my husband signed his rights away; as I too grew up in foster care.)

I know what it is, to know as a small child that you owe a debt to people who abuse you, “for the food in your mouth and the shoes on your feet”.  I knew that anything could be taken from me without warning or even a nod to the fact that I might have a need or want that it should be different; as an Adult I do it to myself, again and again.

“Velcro not strings” is the handle I chose because I have spent probably too much time on dating sites and there are so many ads for relationships with no strings attached.  At times I think that is the Only type of relationship I should be in.  I get that it is hard for people to deal with all the changes with me, but the one that I want is that heart to heart forever love that’s unbreakable and endures beyond the simple trappings of the life we share here.

I am in a funny sort of long distance, on again off again, relationship with someone and as with every relationship I have ever been in I keep hoping that it’s the last relationship I will have.  That this will be my “till death do us part”.  I feel for him though.  

This isn’t the first time I am made aware that to be in my life is to be damaged by me.  Not because I am abusive or intentionally harm others but because the changeable nature of who I am makes it impossible to depend on me.  I make plans for the future and forget them when in their mind those plans were solid and real.  I start things that never get finished.  Treat you like your gold one day and like I don’t know who you are the next.

In spite of all these things, to my total dismay that lover/boyfriend refuses to let me go, my family embraces me like I am precious to them, my grandchildren call in the middle of the night to say how much they miss me, and my friends have always stayed true friends to me.  They all tolerate my coming and going, intensity and abandonment over and over again and still have kind things to say to me.  They put out a welcome mat and still wish me to darken their doorway.

My dream is of a day: when I will have a place to really call my home; a huge communal space filled with children, art and music and vibrant with activity, containing everyone I love who wishes to be there; when with or without a marriage license I will find that love that want’s my energy and their’s to vibrate as one for all time and eternity; and when I won’t use strings to bind me to all that I love, but crazy glue!








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