words fail me

I was doing some writing on memories and I got a bit of a jolt. See, I think I don't have memories but what I have just don't fit my concept of memories. I remembered a feeling I used to get when I stayed at my Grandma's in the apartment where we lived before we (my parents, my brother and I) moved out. She would put me up in the apartment and I would have this feeling come over me that I do not have the language to describe. It was a feeling of such despair and saddness and .... Iike all the joy had been sucke dout of my world. It left me frozen in ...what? Despair, sorrow? I don't know. all I know is that never, in my life have I ever felt such an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and grief as I would when I stayed in our old apartment. I guess my Grandma thought I would like staying there.
The feeling was so scary. Mostly because I was afraid it wan't going to go away. It happened every time I stayed there. And it seemed so timeless. I was always afraid that this would be the time it didn't go away. This would be the time I was condemned to live with that crushing feeling for the rest of my life.

I have not thought about that feeling for a long time. I had forgotten it even happened.

What the hell was that?

I LOVE water. It melts away all the anxiety. I never have a lump in my throat when I am in or near water. I have spent the past tow days at my friend Chris' house and sitting by or in his pool. Sunshine went too. His dog Angel the Old English Bulldog, and two other friends' dogs Teddy the Laso Apso and Max the pitbull/Boston Terrier were there too. Everyone made nice nice. I have strap marks from my bathing suit already.

This is the place that made it possible for me to live through the worst of last summer. I was so sad when we had Angel's birthday in September and the pool was closed up. I made it though. And the pool is open again and I can spend time with friends I love in a place that is so healing for me. No, it's not the ocean but it wil do.

It would seem that this is a safe place for me. Really. Being able to go there once or twice a week last summer saved my fucking ass.

And I am grateful.

Chris grills for us (usually about 3-4 people {and dogs}) and provides beverages and chips and stuff but he would not have to. We bring stuff. Because we are all grateful that he shares his pool with us. And our dogs.

Sun, water, dogs what else could ya want?

coping, gardens, and pools

I went to my second class at PAAR.

I got some very useful stuff in some handouts from the class last night. Like:
*The List of Lists
1. 20 things that help when I feel overwhelmed.
2. 20 things that help when I am suicidal.
3. 20 things that help when I think I might hurt myself.
4. 20 things that help when I am having a hard time dealing with memories.
5. 20 things that help when I am anxious or having panic attacks.
6. 20 ways I can comfort myself.
7. People who can support me.
8. Things of the present: how I know it is this year.
9. 20 things I really like to do.
10. Places I can go when I fell miserable.
11. 20 useful things to do with my anger.
12. things that help me cry when I need to.
13. things of beauty and pleasure in my life today.
14. Nourishing foods I like.
15. the things I most need to remember about myself.
16. 2o things that help me get/stay grounded.
17. My favorite things: a list of treasures.
18. Things that are different no compared to five (or two or ten) years ago.
19. 20 things that help me feel my body.
20. 20 other things I can do when I want to drink or use drugs. *

That's their list of lists. I can't make this stuff up. so I started working on number 1. I got to 9 so far. It's a work in progress. And I figure I can move on to another list while thinking about the list before. Cause nine things on any of those lists is more helpful than nothing.

there was also a sheet about options for responding to triggers. And managing automatic reactions to triggers. Oh I coulda used that one yesterday. And the one about containment vs. stuffing was very interesting. And a whole page on comforting yourself. How very interesting that when my therapist first suggested comforting myself I really had no idea what he meant. He had to explain it twice. Very slowly. Spelled it all out.

I had a very troubling flashback in class. disturbing. Cause I wasn't there for a few minutes. I could be mistaken but I think this might be what happens when the kids tell me I said they could do something and I have no recollection of having been asked. and it's not like they asked me daysd ago...no, minutes.

Errr. I got the call from PAAR. And I didn't get the message until it was too late to call! I'll call back on Tuesday. I seriously did NOT expect to hear from anyone so soon. Seriously.

This may sound silly but I just realized that I don't have to judge others to keep myself safe from them. I can make an assessment and if I'm not comfortable I can move on. I'm just making decision for myself. No judgments required.

I found a poem that someone left on my blog back in February as a comment to my poem which I was sure no one would understand. I read the poem today and was left in tearful wonder.
The poem that was left was like an arm around my shoulders. It was awesome cause I mostly think no one gets it. Whoever this blogger is not only got it but left me a hand on my shoulder to be getting on with. Like a hug to my soul.

I'm working with coping mechanisms in my book. Uh, 24. some more active than others. Like, I have a good healthier mechanism for the alcoholism.

I was to pick 4 that I wanted to look at more closely. So, I picked anorexia, leaving my body, dogmatic beliefs, and perfectionism. I thought they would be the best since I've been working on them anyway. In my world of easily overwhelmed I didn't want to add more prongs to the whip I beat myself with.

The anorexia has a mind of its own, or so it seems. Even when I try to be really conscious of eating and prepare to eat it still ends up not happening. Sometimes. Especially when I've got stuff on my mind. Like yesterday. And Wednesday. Thursday was better. Maybe I should keep a log so I have a clearer idea of what is going on. I just don't think *oh, you haven't eaten yet* until it is a day later. I'm not sure how that happens.

Leaving my body is apparently more of a problem than I thought. I think it happens, momentarily, and I'm not aware. I think it happens in class. I think that's what is going on when the kids say I told them they could do something and I have no memory of being asked. Scary. Usually its just asking to go to the bathroom or get a drink or go to another center but its disturbing nevertheless.

Dogmatic beliefs are a little easier. I have been finding that if I look for the actual belief I find I can look for the grey areas more easily. Cause the actual belief is often quite odd or funny.

And perfectionism is already on the radar and in process.

The harder task was figuring out what these behaviours serve and if there are still good things about them. Maybe, in some situations. I'm letting that rest for now. And then finding healthier coping mechanisms to replace them with. I'm working on it. Some are easier than others. The hardest one might be the most important though. Really, I think it involves a lot. There is so much loaded into the anorexia. Like power and control and punishment. I want to think the first step is a rigid eating schedule but that might defeat the purpose and be a different coping mechanism that I'm trying to work on. Sheesh!

I planted my garden today. Tomatoes and zucchini and lettuce. I put down the newspaper for mulch and weed barrier. I need to get mulch but that's not happening today. At least the plants are in and the newspaper is down. Good god! I have so many worms! Every time I turned the earth I turned up a couple! This is good. Helps the horrible clay soil. Which is much less clay-like than it has ever been.

This post is disjointed. Like my thought processes.

tomorrow, Sunshine and I go to Chris' for the first pool party of the year! Yeah! Those pool parties saved mah fuckin' ass last summer. For real! Somehow, sun, friends, and water came together to be a bit of sanity.

Here/Not Here

I am having buckets of flashbacks and triggers. It's disturbing. But it also leaves me wondering HOW did I NOT have them before? Or did I and I just pretended they weren't important? Just treated the physical pain that comes in their wake with advil which I am not supposed to take.
Must have.

I went to the second Getting Strated class tonight and learned that there is a name for what I've been doing breaking down difficult work into little pieces. It is called containment. Huh.

Now I can wait for someone to call to set up therapy.

I have been looking at the coping mechanisms that I used/ use. That is difficult. Perhaps I'll share those soon. But not tonight.

new dreams

I had a new dream last night. The doll was telling me important stuff that I needed to write down. And she wasn't terrifying or trying to kill me. But I had to go and she told me to put the paper and pen in a teddy bear. So I did. I have no idea what I wrote down although I tried to remember. That's okay. When the time is right I'll know. For now it is enough that the doll is not so terrifying. And that she is willing to talk. I KNEW she could. I just didn't know if I could .
So now I know that I can. In the same tiny increments that I am working with the pieces of my abusive past. Bullying memories that have been repressed for years isn't going to be helpful or lead to sanity. If I want sanity and clarity I must go at my own pace and allow this to work me but not rush it. It'll come.

apology sort of

I'm sort of sorry this blog is so depressing. Sort of. But, you see, if it wan't so depressing, if I hadn't had it as an outlet, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have made it through this past year. Ya never know what the little things mean. I don't know if it's the sound of the keys or the expressing of myself but it's helpful. So, bear with me if there are readers. and if not, well, that might be a good thing. No one to depress with my sad blog.

Yes, I was taught that I need to be Little Mary Sunshine for people to like me. Oh well. If you're gonna like me ya might as well know that I'm funny, sad, quite damaged, love dogs, brave, will sing anywhere, and at the moment ... hungry! Bye.

Damn! This is one depressing blog! I just read over my posts from January til now . Fuck. Really, I'm not that miserable. I must pour all my misery into this blog. Oh well, let it rest here.

Here, I'll try to lighten things up with a little (twisted) tale from school today: I got locked in the outdoor equipment shed! I was in there getting a frisbee and the door swung too and the latch caught. It wasn't really locked but it wouldn't open either. I called another teacher on my cell phone and after she stopped laughing she came and let me out. I knew help was on the way because I could hear Carolyn laughing all the way down the path!

Back to my normal fare:
I went to the first Getting Started class at PAAR last night. (Pittsburgh Action Against Rape, rememer?) Well, it was just a lecture but it was both difficult to hear and reassuring and informational. It explained some things. Like the gaps in my memory. Last night's class was on PTSD. I asked the question of what happens if ya find the classes to be too much? the answer? You're not ready. Naturally I was upset by the answer. I heard abandonment in the answer.

I think I'm ready and my therapist thinks I'm ready. He thinks this will be helpful.
Let's hope I can hang on. I only have to go to one more class before I begin the 2-6 week wait for someone to call about counseling.

I'm walking. Just walking and breathing.

Basic But Not Easy

So I'm working with some pretty basic skills here.

• Asking for help.


• Comforting myself.


• Nurturing myself.


• Not using the healing process in my normal bull headed, full steam ahead 'til I drop fashion.

This is not easy. It is not even easy to look at. Back up. Okay. What have I eliminated that is not really necessary? A LOT. I have been in a crisis on and off (mostly on) for a year. I have managed to function. Which means that I have already figured out that I have to prioritize my life. I have. I have cut out a lot of stuff that I jsut could not manage to do and function on any level. I AM a survivour. I've figured that out. And I have asked for help. a lot of help, really. Which is not easy. My whole body relaxes into the task of helping others. Try it. Come to me with a really devastaing problem, or even a little one. I will relax and breathe and help you figure out what it is you need to do. On a bad day I might even do some of the things you need and are able to do for yourself for you. This, people, is my forte. I am a living breathing Dear Abby. But I relax into these tasks because I don't have to think about or work on me while I am fixing you. I know.

So, the Universe decided for me that I need to change that and brought things front and centre that I could not avoid doing something about. She's like that. I even asked Her to be like that. I even said I trust Her and have turned my will and my life over to Her. Things happen when you do that. Big things. But they can't be forced.

Three times over the last 24 hours I have had people tell me *don't rush this*. Okay. I hear You. I'm just trying to *lean into my pain* (Pema Chodron). But it's okay to lean back out and catch my breath. I'm not stopping. I'm just catching my breath.

How to Not Get into a Crisis

Things are settling. This is good. Two people told me my energy was clearer than a few days ago. I had an emergency session with my therapist on Tuesday. I was shocked that he thought it was THAT important. Hmm. That's one of the ways I just don't deal with this. *It's not important*. It was very important to have some people whose opinions I value tell me that indeed it is.

I have a habit of diving into things head first and realizing I'm in deep shit after the fact. I do it with life, I do it with knitting. In knitting it means I start things I don't have the skill to finish properly. In life it means I end up in a crisis. Which I do NOT handle well. I get angry and spin my anger out over the people I really care about but not over the people who caused it. No, no that would be directly confrontational. Back to the topic at hand. So I opened this can of worms my very own self and dove in head first and ended up in a very big crisis indeed. Sending anger splashing all over the place, hating everyone, myself included. Not reaching out. Not really able to once I get to that place. And putting myself in a serious situation where I was overwhelmed to the max. And then I put myself in a place where I think the only solution is to drink or drug my feelings away. Cause I know that works. I also know that it doesn't work very well for me now. No. I've spent 21 years learning how to make different choices. And yes, dear, the Goddess knows that. Cause I walked for many years without a clue to any of this because without those years of walking and learning and growing I would never have been able to do this even though it doesn't feel like I'm doing very well at all.

But I' working with the people at PAAR and with my therapist. This week I am working with the scary doll from my dream (more later) and with finding ways to do this work without getting overwhelmed and have each session become a crisis. How?
I set a timer when I do my homework and after 30 minutes I ask myself how I'm doing. Am I getting overwhelmed? Am I overwhelmed already? Because I often do not realize until it is too late.
This has helped. Yesterday I worked right through the hour and I was well on my way to overwhelmed. But I took the dogs for a walk and then I took a hot bath with scented salt scrub and essential oils. Then I went to bed.
Today. I set the timer for 30 minutes. I checked in with myself at that point and took a break before continuing on with the second half hour. That worked out much better. Plus, I did not finish it all. Which is a personal problem for me (perfectionism) but I decided I needed to stop at the set time. Tomorrow is a new day.

Part of my homework was to establish a specific support network so I asked some people if they would be okay with my calling them if I get overwhelmed. So far my list has 10 absolutelys and 1 we'll try it.
That was SO HARD! I was crying before I started because I was all convinced that no one would want to be bothered. That my friends would all just abandon me.
I am open to the possiblility that some may step out because they find it too much for them. that's okay. That's one of the reasons the list is so long. Thank Goddess I have enough people in my life to create such a long list. And I made sure they all knew what the topic was before they said yes.

The doll. The kids whose grandfather molested me lured me into the house by telling me there was something we needed to get in the house. I needed to come with them. Perhaps it was a doll or a toy of some sort. Maybe we wee playing Barbies. Just a thought.

I've been working with the doll and inviting the dream back. Setting an intention before I go to sleep, etc. Nothing in my dreams but a few bits and pieces while I'm meditating. Like I realized the doll changes shape from an action figure like doll to a teddy bear from hell like thing with wild fur and agry eyes at one point. Much like myself.

I think part of my joints hurting so badly last weekend (I could hardly walk) and aching this weekend is about this stuff being held in my body, and also this: I felt like my legs would betray me and not hold me up. Like I feel like my emotions will betrya me and be so overwhelming that I can't function. Something like that.

tomorrow IS a new day. A day with two staff people off sick so we will have to combine classes with the Preschool.

I passed my business class with a B and told a prospective student's parents that I do not think our Kindergarten will serve his needs. he has needs that far outstrip the abilities and resources of our little private school. Yep.
I hated doing that. It is the first time in 26 years that I have had to do that. It needed done though. We have been loving and trying to help this child for three years. He needs more than we can give.

So I've got a dream doll that terrifies me, a good therapist, I've set up some counseling with an entity that specializes in sexual abuse issues and behaviour. I also have a network of friends that I can talk to. Although I am currently working on telling myself that when I tell myself they don't care or have time it is a lie.

I am also currently working on using the crisis line that operates through my therpaist's office. First, I have to define *crisis*. This is not so easy as it might seem. Espeicailly when I'm not bleeding from an artery or something. At least not so as one could tell.

Saturday I was bleeding from the artery that carries anger. And fear and pain and shame and, and, and....
But I could not put that into words on Sautrday.
Next time, maybe I'll be able to put words to it. Maybe. these things seem to come from a place where verbal language fails me. Which complicates the whole *call the crisis line, call a friend* thing. Although, when I am calmer I know that I have friends I COULD call when I am like that and they might be able to help me find my words.

I think that one of the reasons I have always been so resistant to change is because I KNEW it would *release the doll* and put me in a place where I would have to begin a dialogue with her.
That dream wasn't new. It is quite old actually. It predates any film with maniacal dolls.

I am willing to dialogue with her. Although it scares the crap out of me. I think pertified is appropriate. I told her last night that I was open to hearing what she has to say and then I was overwhelmed with fear.

Oh boy. Bring on the change.



Koré Chant *
She changes everything She touches
And everything She touches changes

Her name cannot be spoken, Her face was not forgotten
Her power is to open, Her promise can never be broken

All seeds She deeply buries, She weaves the thread of seasons
Her secret, darkness carries, She loves beyond all reason

All sleeping seeds She wakens, The rainbow is Her token
Now winter's power is taken, In love all chains are broken

Everything lost is found again, In a new form, in a new way
Everything hurt is healed again, In a new time, in a new day

Bright as a flower and strong as a tree
With our love and with our rage
Breaking our chains so we can be free
With our love and with our rage

We are, Changers, Everything we touch can change

Change is, Touch is, Touch is, Change is

Change us, Touch us, Touch us, Change us
- Lauren Liebling, Starhawk

dolls with teeth like a pirannah

There is a certain strange peace in the process of allowing horrific possibilities accompanied by panic followed by calm. Very weird. Sometimes it feels like I'm someone else.

My therapist thinks the doll is my hate-filled frozen self and the practises I use to repress stuff (like drinking). But he also said that dream interpretation is subjective. Filled as it is by the myriad of things in the unconscious.

He suggested I ask the doll what she needs/wants. I suggested I through her in the fire. He said I probably don't want to do that because she holds a lot of information.

Okay, talking to her just scare the crap out of me. She's vicious! He said that's because she holds my rage. Can't she just keep it? No, I know. She can't or she'll just keep biting me in my sleep.

I realized today that the dream isn't new. I've been having it since I was a kid. He thinks she popped up because I wanted to drink to stop the feelings. Great. My addiction has a face. It ain't a cute one either.

Looks like there might be some trance work with this doll in my future.

I also asked my therpaist what he thought about me contacting Paar (Pittsburgh Action Against Rape). If he thought it was like having two sponsors or something. Working against getting any real work done. He asked me about the classes I have to take before they'll see me and he thought they were sensible and probably quite useful. They are about trauma and dissociation, self-injury, PTSD and triggers, and anger. He said that it might help get past some of the resistance we keep running into and if they don't do what I expect them to do or they aren't working I can always stop going.

he also mentioned, again, that perhaps I should have called the crisis line. Hmm. And he said to do that if he is not in the office between now and next week. I said okay.

Off to eat dinner. Apparently, not doing so is a form of self-abuse.

I lit the fire under this one my own self. I set the cauldron to boil and I can't even say I didn't know what I was brewing up. Okay, maybe not on a really conscious level like I'm going to wear these socks, but I did know deep down where I keep the things I'm not looking at.

I might as well just say that I think dad molested me when mum was in the hospital. I have no proof. Just odd memories that keep popping up with a sickening feeling. Just that this particular memory won't go away ---for a week. My head tells me it is not possible and the rest of me tells me it is so.

I had an horrific dream last night with a doll that kept trying to bite me and hurt me even after I had pulled off it's limbs and head. And though it looked like plastic it was flesh and bone. And terrifying. And there was a deeper unformed, unnamed horrifying thing that I *knew* but it was not visible.

And the molestation when I was seven always had a connection to dad but I could not look at why. I KNEW why. I just could not look at it.

The scene in our kitchen in our apartment always went with the other memory. Always. I'm less than 2 years old. I'm crying and he's mad at me for crying. apparently. I had no reason to be crying. I know, it's not much. But it's all there is for now.

I have not been able to breathe since I started working with this stuff. Yep it was bad. I felt like there were fingers pressing on my throat keeping the air out, squeezing. I don't feel like that now. Now I can breathe and the headache that arrived full-blown when I let the thought first process went away as quickly when I wrote that in my journal.

I've been having this bump up against my consciousness for a long time but I pushed it away every time. Cause, really, all I have is a memory that doesn't really support it and the visceral fear of my dad. Like being in a bubble of fear. On my skin, in my ears.

I can't pretend to know WHAT happened. Cause I don't. All I know is the two episodes have always been linked and it would not go back into it's box.

Three circle in less than 24 hours. And, I never felt the need to cast a circle to write in my journal before.

Therapist, tomorrow. Special emergency session.

dreams

I had a dream last night. a scary one. A nightmare? I'm not sure what the difference is.
So, there was this castle. It was ghastly on the outside. I can't really remember why I thought that but it was dark and craggy and pointy with lots of shadowy unclear spaces. The inside was bright and modern and light and comfortably decorated. And the family who lived there seemed friendly and smiling and normal. But there was also a terrifying (to me) secret in this place. I find that more scary than the doll that I kept having to protect myself from. She kept trying to hurt me, take bites out of me, push me off ledges. Even witout her limbs, even without her head. She was not made of plastic but of flesh and bone. But she looked plastic. She was so tenacious, unstoppable. So frightening even though she was only eight or so inches tall. Shye even perused me into wakefulness. I got up to go to the bathroom and she seemed to be there in all the shadows which were threatening and malicious even when I knew exactly what made them.
But under that there was something fearful that was not clear. That had no form, or shape or name. No definition. Just the knowing that it was there and that it was terrifying.
I think it's formless, namelessness is the scariest part.

feelings, facts, fun

Well, actually there wasn't much *fun*. Useful, yes. fun, well....


I mentioned I was avoiding writing? Well, I decided I might as well do it sooner rather than later. So I cast a circle, yes, I have learned some things, and started writing. Um, 12 pages later...I was furious. Not only that but, oddly I was jealous of people I don't even know for having, so I suppose, things that I don't have. No, not tangible things. (Language is not my friend right now)

but relationships I assume I do not have, no I have not tested that theory. I got pissed off at G for posting about someone else having a bad day and maybe someone should call her...Hey! call me! (but when he saw me this morning I was fine)

I got pissed at L because I assume she is busy. No, I did not call or email or anything. I just made an assumption. Oh yeah. My anger fed itself and grew and attached itself to anything it could think of. And it is pretty damn creative.
And angry is a lonely place cause

I don't know why.

So, back to circle. Okay. Fucking help me out here! (this is called *prayer* sometimes.

So, here is where I am and here is hurt and angry and sad. It's not L's fault or G's fault or any of the other people I wanted to be all pissed off at. While the Goddess was gentle and comforting nothing has actually changed. I'm still sad, really sad. A sad so deep there are no tears. That would actually be helpful. Cause at this point I think I am only *safe* with the Divine. Otherwise...things could go badly. Okay, so I am assuming again that no one in human form can witness my rage, hurt, sadness. Okay. I'm afraid to find out.



I watched a guy at the meeting this morning. He had his daughter with him. Maybe 4 years old. He was so gentle with her. Like she was made of thin glass. It hurt just to watch and yet it was a beautiful thing to behold.

It hurt to have my face washed, it hurt to have my hair combed, it hurt to be given a bath. What must it be like to be touched so gently?