My Dad Died

Last night, peacefully at home. I'm glad his suffering was not long. I hope he accomplished what he needed to in this life.
It's complicated

Appointments and Waiting Rooms Make Me Nervous

Appointments of all kinds, doctors, teacher, school, therapist, all make me nervous. The worst appointments are the ones in which I have never been to the office building and havent met the person I have the appointment with.
I have one of those "worst" appointments this week. I can goggle and map search for the building, but I am clueless as to what the waiting room set-up is. I don't know where the escape routes or restrooms are. I can't even guess if the receptionist is friendly and helpful or a hardass having a really bad day.
It's so damn unknown.
Then I have to meet with the actual doctor. I goggled him, also, and have his age and education, but no picture, so I can't get a visual on who I will be dealing with. Having never seen this type of doctor before, a specialist, I am quite nervous as to what info he will want, his demeanor and expectations. When he asks a question, will I be able to come up with the appropriate answer or will I start down that long road where I give endless, nonsensical details because I don't understand what he is really asking?
My appointment is in a few days, and I've been nervous since last week.
Later this week, I meet and greet my new therapist at community mental health. I've been to the building before. It arbors many very old painful memories from when I was a client there 25 years ago. Thank god they don't keep records that long! And I have had a couple recent bad encounters there as well.
I don't know the chick I'll be working with. Yup, I googled her and found a small photo (which helps tremendously) and her education. This appointment makes me equally nervous because I'll be in a closed room with this person for about an hour, I'm uncertain of what to say. I can't really preplan conversation (I hate it when I can't preplan talks....if I know what to expect, I feel so much calmer)
or get a handle on her personality. Heck, I'm not even sure her office has a window!
It's like walking into a great unknown with shakey footing and head-in-the-fog confusion.
Even when I am scheduled to see people's offices I frequent, there can be a certain amount of butterfly nervousness. It depends on what I need to talk about, mostly. When I have to see my amity doctor about...delicate..matters, I get anxiety.
My weekly therapist visits can be anticipated with zero stress all the way up to panic depending on my state of mind and being.
Can I talk about waiting rooms? Not just any waiting rooms, but the ones that are chock full of people and that must be endured for half an hour or more. Once a week, I take my little guy to the allergist. The waiting room is akin to a walk through a busy grocery store. People fly in and out every twenty minutes and the room usually harbors between 10-15 strange and unpredictable life forms.
It's crowded. It's noisy. It's smelly and very uncomfortable. It's reminds me of being trapped in a cage.
I never know who will be there, although there is a host of "regulars". My son has a few kids his age to share video ages with. I have to keep a civil tongue and not say everything that is on my mind. One regular is my Eldests first grade teacher who scarred him for life with her anal retentive, "I hate kids because they make noise and drag in dirt" attitude. I always want to say to her, "Are you still an ass and ruining young lives in a job you are completely unsuited for?" I just think it over and over and hope she gets the message telepathically. Mean bitch. Oh, and she will not look in my direction and likes to have her friend sitting between me and her. She knows how I feel about her.
The second semi-regular is my Younglinks swim instructor who almost allowed him to drown. She always says hi and how you doing? I always want to punch her in the face or tell her to shove it up her ass.....but I don't. I just harbor more mean thoughts and keep my mouth shut lest I make a scene. Incompetent ignoramus.
Waiting rooms are highly unpredictable. My best bet is to find a safe spot to it, away from others and closest to the exit. I bring earplugs these days and just drift out the large windows.
There is a reason they make anti-anxiety meds. Appointments and waiting rooms make me nervous.

Dealing with death and stress

A favorite uncle died unexpectedly this past weekend. I would have very much liked to have attended a visitation and the funeral. I had to put logic and my own health ahead of my aunts and uncle. I've been in a place of transitions and confusion. I have not the strengths nor inclinations to deal with any of my siblings or my parents.
I felt really bad about not being there for my aunt, my godmother, two beloved family members. I just love them.
So today I was thinking...I picked up the phone, called my aunt and asked her if we could visit. I loved Everything I heard in aunties voice. She was happy to hear from me. She harbored no resentment at not being at the funeral and her heart warmed that we were going to visit. Whew, I feel tons better.
This is the thing that feels right and healthy for me to do. I grieve the loss of my Uncle Bill. He was a sweetheart, kind, funny, one of the few good guys I remember from childhood. I want to honor and respect him. I want to demonstrate my love and support. I am thrilled that I will visit in a couple days.
All feels a little more right in my world.

Okay, okay, I'll write something...

I keep start specific topic posts and they haven't been coming to fruition. So, I'm gonna wing it and just plain write.
I've been watching the series "The United States of Tara" or UST, this week. It's about a woman with the same thing I have, MPD multiple personality disorder now known as DID dissociative identity disorder. It's more accurate than not. The actress is incredible and it's a fairly accurate portrayal of living life as a "multiple" or as I like to say "having people".
Watching the show makes me feel better about myself. There are so few movies or shows that even come close to the very altered reality I live in every day.
There are three television shows or movies that pretty much sum up who I am:
The United States of Tara
The movie "Adam"
And the movie "Mr. Magoriums Wonder Emporium" in which each character exhibits a different part of me.
So, if anyone ever wanted to now what being me is all about, put three tvs in the room and run all three of these pics at once.
The unamused, mildly dysfunctional and downright "normal" people's have all kinds of stuff to watch. Me, I got these three and they are good ones.
New memories surfaced again...each more unpleasant than the last. This one new one deals with the first memory of being violated, of feeling invaded, helpless and used. Haven't even begun to sort all the emotional content. I need to go slowly with this one...like that Other one that I talked about in therapy Last week.
In a way though, I feel good? about remembering. I'm constantly reminded that I have made nothing up. Memories answer the questions...why am I like this?....why do I feel so spread open and vulnerable?.....
This last memory also answers the question I've had. My dad is/was a multiple too. He did to me some of what was done to him. He took out his anger and feelings of helplessness onto me. I distinctly can recall one child alter of his, with a particularly..twisted mind.
I feel absolutely no blame or shame in recalling. I was far too young to have been a "willing" participant or to have been able to stop the acts. I know I am innocent and always have been.
That first act, that memory...was devastating and confusing.
Still processing
See, I write for a few minutes...then I'm just not interested.
Oh well. Maybe more later

So Much Wrong...for so very long

I've been mulling over my current fate. There is so much here. I'm trying to make sense.
Let me take a look at two debilitating "unknown" illness that I've had. The first was in 2099. I was shoveling dirt and felt ill. I starting burning up with fever, my stomach muscles ached and burned, I started shaking heavily and I became very weak.
I went in the house and laid down. After resting for a couple hours, I went to get up. I could barely move. It took every ounce of energy I had to just talk or move into a sitting position. I took myself to the hospital. After being examined, no anomalies were found. I ended up staying the night at the hospital for more tests because I simply was unable to move my body. I was scared beyond belief.
The following day, the additional tests showed nothing. I was sent home.
Methinks the overall general thinking was that "it was all in my head."
Over the course of six weeks, my strength came back one very small ounce at a time, a little each day.
Hmmm. Never once did a doctor say, "Wow, we really need to figure this out." Never once did a concerned friend or family member say, "we need to get you to a specialist."


No. It was assumed that I was somehow making this up. And, you know, with hysteria if you ignore it, eventually the "attention seeking symptoms" will go away.
Well, I never made it up. The new tests results aren't in yet, but it is possible that the diagnosed Borrelia bacteria infection I have, causes a wide range of neurological symptoms. Borrelia produces a neurotoxin. It does not show up in normal lab tests.
I lay around for six weeks, scared beyond belief, wondering if I'd ever be able to walk and care for myself again....and people looked at me like I was fucking crazy. And no one gave a shit enough to help me seek answers. I felt fucked over...and I was so very, very weak...and I didn't want anyone to know how really bad off I felt or my thoughts were...because..if people know you have a soft spot, a weakness, they take advantage of that and hurt you more.
I felt so incredibly helpless. My body didn't work and I couldn't get anyone to help. I surely couldn't confide in anyone the depth of my fear and worry...no one was listening.


Part of my difficulty in having a physical illness is my inability to accurately describe my symptoms. Aspergers colors every facet of my life and hinders certain aspects. My ....challenged verbal center has trouble finding the appropriate words to describe...abstract symptoms. If I have a small cut, I can feel it and I can see it. I visually acknowledge that I need medical attention.
If the pain is internal....yikes....the challenge begins. If I can't see it, it doesn't exist or at least, it's very hard to describe.
I had ongoing gallbladder pain in 2009. Doctors would ask me to rate the pain on a scale of 1 to 10. I guessed. They would poke the sore abdominal area and ask if it hurts more. Stupid question. In my Aspie mind, logically it would hurt more. And I have this whole delayed reaction to most things, so maybe a few hours later, I'd realize it didn't hurt more when poked.
I went to the ER three or four times with serious pain until some bright bulb actually said to me, "You need to see a surgeon and have your gallbladder removed. This pain will not go completely away until you do."
See, no one in any of my previous visits had put it into words that I comprehended. And having never had gallbladder issues or known anyone personally with the same symptoms, I did not understand the severity of my symptoms.....talk about feeling helpless and stupid.
Pain and symptoms are just really tough for Aspies to convey. Think of how much that sucks....you feel terrible and you can't identify or find the words to express what's going on. Like standing on a street corner, bleeding and no one stops to help and you are blind and cannot see the wound, but you know you hurt.
Aspergers is all about pain management, feeling helpless and stupid and doing your best as you climb that slippery, mud-laden mountain that always starts when you walk out the front door.


God, if I could just find those damn red flags and recognize when to use them!

Stranded Thoughts

I am amazingly physically ill and have had bouts of being very sick for the past few years. It's been downright scary to be extremely weak and unable to do the simplest of things, ie, getting out of bed, making a piece of toast, without great, concerted effort.
Even after hours of sleep, I wake up very tired and sore.
Too weak to complain.
Autistically having difficulty verbally defining and explaining my symptoms.
Pretty sure most have thought my symptoms were all "in my head" when they Never were, but I could not explain myself enough to get medical help.
It's been horribly frightening to feel so bad and not have answers...never knowing if or when I will feel better...
The unknown is scary


Dreams of playful raccoons in the snow, sliding down hills. A huge black bear shows up, very close, walks around. I'm not sure if it's vicious or not.
Dreamt of being alone, in my hometown, unsure of which way to go. Stopping at the downtown hospital, only to get stuck riding the new fanged elevator, asking someone to help me get unstuck, get off.
I walk and it's getting dark. I'm in a strange neighborhood that I know is dangerous. I duck into a friendly looking building where a woman greets me and tries to help. I'm trying to call someone to come get me...to rescue me from the danger...but the phone won't work, no matter how many times or what number I call.


The last week of this month, I see the specialist. I'm mildly optimistic. Third day on antibiotics. I feel a little better each day. My heads a little clearer and my muscles aren't so..pokey, spiky sore.
Making some changes. I had my third visit with...I'll call her "Sadie", the CMH intake worker. Mostly surprisingly, she didn't doubt me or what I said. She listened well and believed me. At the end of the 2 1/2 hour intake, she actually called me "likable" and very intelligent, easy to get along with.
It's exceedingly rare to get a compliment. I need to get out more. Sometimes compliments seem like foreign things meant for someone else.
Sadie actually said she thinks most people accept MPD/ DID and Aspergers as real and valid


To summarize (do I really want to say this?) I:
Was neglected by my mother at a very young age
Sexually abused by my dad from five-20
Physically abused by both parents, majority dad from 7-14, the poor, unemployed years
Have both rare diseases of Lyme and Lichen Sclerosus which are both caused by the same bacteria, Borrelia.
Contracted said bacteria at seven years of age. Trauma contributes to the lichen.
Have spent most of my life with physical ills that have been pretty much of unknown cause. I think people say I'm a hypochondriac, hysterical and making things up. Bullshit. My ailments are frightening and very real
I'm actually a very nice person, withdrawn, avoiding pain and misunderstanding, very intelligent, good reader of eyes and body language, hypersensitive, unable ...unwilling to trust easily, non-manipulative, very low on the drama scale, autistic (some days more than others) with MPD multiple personality disorder, PTSD post traumatic disorder, chronically depressed since childhood, estranged from all bio (biological and bio toxic family), with...hmm, no close friends, unable to work, prone to anxiety and panic attacks but, with a positive attitude, overall.


It's been...interesting thus far....stick around, I am holding a tiny ray of hope that things will get better

Lyme and Lichen..visiting my family doctor

I gathered my info on the correlation between Lyme Disease and Lichen Sclerosus and Borrelia. I presented my findings to my doctor. She finds it rather fascinating and referred me to an infectious disease specialist! Yeah! And she agreed to put me on Doxycycline to try and help this virulent sinus infection! Yeah, number two.
Having previously been on Doxy, I know it has an effect on the Borrelia. I have moved one small step in the right direction.


In reading more about possible symptoms of Borrelia, neurological disorders was one of the symptoms mentioned. I have had a long string of strange and undiagnosable neurological problems that have been sending me to the ER for years.
Let's take a look at them:
Neurological pain in my feet. Numbness, tingling, soreness
Loss of the ability to sit up and move without extreme effort
Excruciating lower back pain with no known cause
Eye disturbances causing my vision in one eye to turn into a bright, hot light.
Dizziness
Ringing in my ears


Upon doing any type of heavy physical exertion, ex. shoveling, the muscles involved in the activity burn and I am sore and exhausted for days afterward.
Honestly, I don't know what it's like to feel "good", healthy or well. I consider myself to have always felt subpar and either dealing with an illness or getting over one. Basically, I always feel like crap, just in varying degrees.
I've started keeping a log of my LS, Lyme and sinus conditions. I'm writing down what I eat and what medicines I take and when.
Maybe there is just a wee bit of hope for me.
Next step will be my visit to the specialist.

Lyme Disease and Lichen Sclerosus, my conclusions

I have an appointment with my family doctor tomorrow. I will present my findings. Here they are:
Lyme Disease (LD) and Lichen Sclerosus (LS) are both rare diseases caused by the same bacteria, Borrelia. Study after medical study shows this to be the case.
I had my first symptoms of LS,  intense itching, at seven years of age.
LS frequently manifests at sites of trauma or injury. My sexual abuse started at five years of age and was at least a few times weekly.
Borrelia is difficult to identify as it "hides" well. It doesn't overtly show up in routine blood work ups, lab results.  One symptom is chronic low WBC, white blood cell, count. Looking over my lab test results, my WBC is consistently normal but very much in the lower end of the spectrum.
My LS has acted up, flared, if you will, throughout my entire life.
I have had a compromised immune system and very frequent illness, far above normal since I can remember.
I have consistently felt "Better" on certain antibiotics and for two weeks after taking them. Then I would start feeling unwell again.
I have had many instances of "unknown" and strange ailments, including neurological symptoms that have baffled doctors. Borrelia causes neurological problems.


There Is treatment available that can eradicat Borrelia. Various strong antibiotics taken over months do work. I will see if my doctor is willing to deal with this and/or refer me to a specialist.
I cannot see one dr. for my LD and chronic sinusitis and another for my LS as They Are Both Linked. Both caused by One organism.
It's time to get the proper care and treatment for what ails me.

I Dream of Love

Sometimes dreams are our brains way of expressing everyday stress and frustration. At other times, dreams enlighten and entertain. Then there are, what I like to call, healing dreams.
The dreams my autistic brain creates are...more real, than average. I believe one commonly used term is "vivid dreaming". The events and feelings I experience are just slightly less intense than every day life.
I have repeatedly had dreams where I am talking and hugging my sister who passed away. I love the discussions we "have", how it feels to hear her voice again, and the magical touch of her hand.
On more than one occassion, I have dreamt I put money in my pocket. Upon awaking, I actually searched for it and was quite dismayed to find "it was just a dream." I have awoken in pure terror when dream living one of my sons being lost. Likewise, I frequently dream that my Eldest is home and released from prison. Again, I happily, if ever so briefly, look for him and end up in tears because it is not reality.
In dreams, I feel strongly emotionally and physically.

The past couple weeks, I have had at least four-five different dreams with the same theme...someone, a boyfriend or girlfriend, loves me very, very much. The person who cares for me so deeply is always different. The common thread is that each love is very kind, sweet, caring, safe and happy...to be with me. I awaken feeling warm, smiling and with an inner feeling of...being loved.


Prior to two weekes ago, I fail to recall ever having a dream of this love and feeling magnitude. The sheer number of healing love dreams is beyond erratic or coincidental. Just today, I had one love dream with a twenty something, casually attractive and highly caring young man at night, in addition to having a nap dream with a thirty something sweet and beautiful woman television personality. I must add that the dreams are completely without a sexual component. They encompass nothing but deep caring and love.
I am very much enjoying these. I love the feeling in the dream, as well as the warm residue I experience upon awakening. Dreams can truly be healing.

Reading Body Language, Facial Expressions, Eye Contact, Smile

Facial expressions can be very difficult to read. People smile for a wide variety of reasons:
1) They are genuinely happy to see me
2) it's the polite thing to do
3) They do it all the time and it means nothing
4) It's a mask.
5) It's a ruse, deceptive they want to manipulate. They need something or want you to do something for them, possible sinister

Eye Contact
Eyes have "expression" that can be almost too intense. It is highly accurate in dictating how someone is feeling about themselves, about you and their life in general.
I see the eyes of someone in pain and it hurts me.
Likewise, with people who are upset or angry with me, painful.
I've seen "dead eyes", an expression completely devoid of any warmth or care; otherwise known as, "You are dead to me" or "I feel nothing at all for you."
Happy, warm, "I like you" eyes are my favorite.
It's easy to tell when someone is uninterested and bored. Those persons who look a away from me...I find upsetting and rude. (Yes, this from someone who rarely maintains eye contact. I deplore double-standards, but it is true)
While I cannot routinely be accurate in reading facial cues, I'm actually very good at reading body language. My Aspie brain easily picks out the detail of small and slight movements, shifts in head tilt and subtle foot taps.
The way a person carries themselves, that unique walk tell me about the overall happiness and well-being of an individual. How free are the major joints? Do the arms swing casually from the shoulder carefree? Or are arms pressed tightly to the body in defense and pain?
The ability to determine who a person is, even from a good distance, is one of my hallmarks. Each walk is very unique.
I guess I entered into this subject because of an event this morning. I went to my doctors to ask for copies of some of my medical records. My intent was to procure three or four different pages, but upon my inquiring at the reception desk, it was quite clear the secretary was having an awful morning. Without her even speaking, her eyes looked tired and heavy. Her shoulders were low, sank, in futility and exasperation. Her arm movements were slightly erratic in confusion, frustration.
I could see that I was an imposition...that my being there was at a hectic time for her.

I respected that, pared down my request to just two pages and left.
Reading people, faces, posture, movement is a valuable skill. It makes people, the world, a little more predictable.
I do recommend that if you would like to learn how to read body language, there are many very good and easy to understand books and material on the Internet. I read a number of them whilst a teen and believe that they helped me.

The correlation between Lyme Disease and Lichen Sclerosus

After spending the past few hours researching Lichen Sclerosus, I came upon an interesting common thread. Both diseases can be traced to the Borrelia burgdorferi bacterium. I find this highly interesting.
Two, very rare diseases, one body, one bad guy.
There apparently, according to at least one study, antibiotics that can eradicat or subdue the Lichen, which continues to be my biggest issue.
I'm going to call either or both, my family doctor and ob/gyn to see who can refer me to an infectious disease specialist in the nearby city, since someone, with knowledge of Both diseases needs to take a look at this.
Hmmm, there might be hope for me yet. I'll keep you informed

Human Hibernation, Lotska

For the last five years, or so, i have jokingly commented that i start hibernating every fall. My energy level drops to 10-20%, and i easily spend up to 20 hours resting or sleeping. Seriously, this Is my normal.
In reading this wonderful article off the net....i dont feel so odd. It makes logical sense. My Eldest has always said that i am very much in tune with the rhythms of the earth and the seasons.
My diet changes with each season, along with my mood. In Spring I bounce and have bountiful energy and I crave salads, chicken and light foods. Autumn I rest and eat lots of root veggies, potatoes and pumpkin pies along with burgers and steak. Frequently, I end up with a string of illnesses, but methinks that's only because I fight the urge to rest so much.
I'm not sick. I'm nowhere near depressed, I'm hibernating!
I do find it interesting that this phenomenon has been recorded among Russian peasants. My genealogy states that I am more Polish than anything else. Maybe it's a genetic, regional occurrence.

A Long Winter’s Nap: How Hibernation Helps You
Season changes in weather also affect how our minds and bodies work.
By Carol Venolia
January/Febraury 2009
In the depths of winter, do you find yourself wanting to sleep more, eat more and curl up by the fire? We often behave as if seasonal changes are irrelevant to a modern lifestyle. After all, in many ways, civilization is all about overcoming nature. But our bodies are evolutionarily old and remember how weather once dictated behavior. In winter, we hunkered around a fire, repairing tools and telling tales that wove our culture. We packed our bodies close and slept long.
Now we act as if it’s always summer, demanding consistently high productivity at work and at home. But our bodies require cycles of activity and rest—daily, annually. When days are long, our metabolisms and energy levels amp up. In winter, we produce hormones that make us sleepy, giving us time to restore body, mind and soul.

And there’s nothing wrong with that cycle—except that we work against it, forcing ourselves to operate at summer levels even in winter. No wonder so many people feel depressed at this time of year!
How SAD is that?
You’ve probably heard of Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD. You might even suffer from it—as many as half a million U.S. citizens do, according to the American Academy of Family Physicians. The fact that most clinicians address the issue via technology (daily exposure to high-intensity electric light) and/or medication provides an interesting perspective on our time. But some have noted that SAD’s symptoms have more in common with hibernation than with clinical depression.
Could SAD be a result of modern living’s demand to move at top speed all day, every day—and mostly indoors, disconnected from the sun’s cycles? Could we give in to a bit of hibernation?
Oh, to hibernate!
Hibernation is a survival strategy some animals use to get through foodless winters. Though humans don’t hibernate, some cultures have come close.
In 1900, the British Medical Association published a description of winters among Russian peasants. For centuries, they survived scant winter food by engaging in lotska—sleeping the whole season away. “At the first fall of snow the whole family gathers round the stove, lies down, ceases to wrestle with the problems of human existence and quietly goes to sleep.”
The peasants woke daily to eat some bread and drink some water and then dropped off again, taking turns keeping the fire going. After six months, “the family wakes up, shakes itself, goes out to see if the grass is growing, and by-and-by sets to work at summer tasks,” the article states.
In a 2007 New York Times editorial, historian Graham Robb similarly described rural 19th-century France:
Economists and bureaucrats who ventured out into the countryside after the Revolution were horrified to find that the work force disappeared between fall and spring...Villages and even small towns were silent, with barely a column of smoke to reveal a human presence. As soon as the weather turned cold, people all over France shut themselves away and practiced the forgotten art of doing nothing at all for months on end.


Dreaming of a better world
What if we indulged our inclination to slow down in winter? We’d sleep more and demand less from ourselves. We’d be more inward and reflective. I once met an artist who had mastered this. Perusing her work, I asked how she stayed creative as a painter, writer, weaver and sculptor. Her answer:
She changes media each season. In summer she’s out on her deck chiseling a sculpture. In fall, she is reflective and poetic. In winter, she works with warm fiber at her loom. And as spring beckons her outdoors, she sets up her easel in the meadow. Should our lives be any less a work of seasonal art?
Carol Venolia is an eco-architect and co-author of Natural Remodeling for the Not-So-Green House (Lark Books, 2006). She teaches in the Sustainable Communities program at Dominican University of California . Chat with her at cvenolia@naturalhomemagazine.com .
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Multiple Personality, DID, Repressed Memories, hmm, thats Rare

So in talking with the CMH intake worker, she asked what diagnosis I thought I had. I mentioned PTSD, depression, anxiety and Multiple Personality Disorder (now known as DID).


She said MPD? Why do you think you have that? That's pretty rare.
No lady, let me tell You what is rare:
Being one of ten children
Contracting Lyme disease when there were only 88 confirmed cases in the state of Michigan three years ago
Having a child born with one hand with odds of 1 in 50,000-100,000
Those things Are Rare
What else is rare is that anyone With MPD/ DID would freely admit that they have it And subject themselves to the ridicule and disbelief from the uneducated and uninformed such as yourself!
Every time I speak with this woman, she disbelieves and questions my statements and my character.
Another thing, on the list of items that irk me....who would ever make up stories about repressed memories of sexual abuse? What would be the purpose? Who would freely put themselves and their reputation at risk and talk about taboo, criminal, denigrating events that happened? To what ends?
The only reason children repress memories is so that they can survive. So that they can try and carry on with their lives. It's a survival mechanism exactly as MPD is. Absolutely necessary!


I think the only people doubting are perpetrators. I mean, if one in four girls is molested, that's a helluva lot of sexual predators and offenders out there, some with psychology degrees. How rare.
Yeah Bitch...bite that one

Writing makes it real

Maybe I'm not such a loser. Maybe I really have stopped hating myself.

Writing, finding and saying the words out loud and on paper really does turn mythical, whimsical, porous thoughts into a more concrete form.

After reading and retreading my previous post...Man, I have sent a helluva lot of time hating myself, my ills, habits and behaviors. The prev post has hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't realize how much heavy self-loathing I was feeding and carrying around.  I mean, I guess I really took to heart and believed I was a loathsome, weird, lying, distant, mean, thoughtless, self-absorbed, unhealable soul.
Like my worth amounted to bout a half-penny.
I have been so very sensitive and I grew up around the cruelest of people. Refusing to mimic such bad behavior, I am and always have been the odd man out. They couldn't break me or make me turn into one of them, so they hated me, teased me and rejoiced in punishing me.
I could never be one of them. I would never mirror my parents behavior.

I've always been very, very different.  So be it.
I make good choices.

Therapy is going well

I can't remember the last time I talked about therapy. Last night, I was up kinda late thinking about all the progress I have made in bout eight months. It seems quite remarkable, really. I've accomplished more than I ever thought possible.
My understanding of how my thinking got as...distorted as it, makes more sense now. When a child is neglected or hurt, thinking patterns change. Emotions are turned inside out and self-esteem and self-worth are non existent or warped.
I've learned what it's like to feel safe in this world. I've taken many Big steps in valuing myself. I am less overly sensitive and have become a better judge as to taking on responsibility and blame. I let other peoples issues, miscues and insecurities be theirs, not mine.
I'm more comfortable alone. I continue to travel, even better and more confidently, solo. I have a greater understanding and kindness towards myself. The more I read and talk to therapist, the less I blame and hate myself for being sick so often. Learning what is in my control and what isn't.
I still get how very difficult it is for most people to understand the torture and conditions I have lived through. My biggest validation continues to come from therapist and reading about others who have lived through similar situations.
I don't feel as needy, which makes me quite happy.


I feel more contentment being in my own skin. My little quirks and eccentricities actually make pretty good sense. There are valid reasons I behave and act as I do.
My biggest concern is being able to continue to see Therapist, as my insurance ran out a month or two ago. I'm all private pay which means I always have to ask for money.
Hmm, I've decided to also work with community mental health. Mostly for them to help me apply for disability and assist me in managing my everyday External challenges. Not a replacement for Therapist, lest I start an internal riot, but an additional support beam.
I am intelligent. I can see...how much assistance would benefit me the most. I hope to be able to decrease paying visits to Therapist, but I and my mental health is first and foremost. I won't short-change myself, or start sliding back into murky, chaotic waters. I'll have to manage things as carefully as I can.
I realize where I am, what I've been through and how to improve.
Stick around. Follow my journey:)

Dunderweed Definition

A dunderweed is an idiot or nincompoop who is obnoxious, intrusive and difficult to get rid of.
They are invasive, widespread and just plain creepy. Impossible to eradicat, they can be somewhat contained with accurate identification and appropriate verbal bantering skills. Avoidance is the best protocol, but somedays they are just fucking everywhere.

Dipshits and Dunderweeds

And, no, I have no idea what a dunderweed is...but it's better than some of the other words I am thinking of. Poopyhead and Nimrod are the two other words I can use in mixed company.
It's not even noon, and I've dealt with enough stupid to last all week.
First off, I call the prison to try and figure out if I can send my son newspaper articles. After a few attempts to reach a human, all the number options led to nowhere...nice job, Baraga Correctional Facility! Thank you for giving callers a run around into dead ends. Anyway, I get the wench in the mail room who says things like, "I'm not going to argue with you...." even though my voice was calm, friendly and inquisitive as opposed to angry and combative. Obviously, the woman is used to combat but I arrived unarmed and simply searching for a solution.


Like most "altercations" or meanness, my first reaction is to take it personally. Once I thought about it, reanalyzed my words and tone, I realized that I did nothing wrong. I wasn't starting an arguement or a battle. She is the one with issues and problems. My behavior did Not incite a riot or anything close to that. The burden rests squarely on her hunched and chip ridden shoulders. I am entitled to be pissed and offended at her, but I did nothing wrong.
One thing that does continue to amaze me, in a new and unseen way, is that I am ....tenacious..I didn't give up, even when shots were being fired. I did not sink to her level, or resort to angry name calling until I hung up the phone. I continued to seek answers and speak courteously and respectfully. I did not give up. I knew that this disgruntled woman was the one to give me the info I needed. And begrudgingly she did.


The second poopyhead to deal with was the Community Mental Health opinionated talking head. This is me second attempt to seek CMH services. The first time, she just didn't get it and said I did not qualify. Well, this time she had her "listening ears" on. I Do qualify Now because my insurance has run out, she had no idea my background was "this extensive", I provided a no-holds-barred, stripped down and detailed version of the struggles and shit I deal with on a daily basis And she Got it. I had not, apparently, made my needs Clear enough to her The First Time.
And I supplied the information that I was comfortable with sharing. She asked a few questions which the old naive and compliant me would have kiss assed answered, but not this time. I told her that I wasn't about to share such details with her. She respected that...No, she asked the same invasive question more than once. Again, I was tenacious. I held my ground and my self-confidence. I am not the person I was when I first met her ten months ago. Lots changed.


I didn't argue with her over her questioning my diagnosis because experience showed that that is how she operates. I was prepared for it and did not get dismayed. I observed her and replayed our first interview so I was quite informed.
I'm just refusing to take people's shit, anymore. I'm not tolerating oversight or forgetfulness from "professionals". Do your job, dammit! Treat people, especially with respect. I will tolerate nothing less. I will call you out and clearly, vehemently refuse to tolerate lack of consideration. I deserve better...much, much better and I will accept nothing less.
Damn dimwitted, poopyheaded dunderweeds!!
:)