Where I am, how I got here and how I plan to get somewhere else. PART TWO

I'm not sure what to write for part two, because I seem to have put it all out there in part one, so I'll just wing it. Because that's what I do sometimes. I'm just going to ramble. Regular readers are used to that anyway, right? :-)

Maybe I need to say WHY. WHY do I need to 'get somewhere else'? Well, that's easy. It's because it sucks here where I am. It is very hard to hold things together if something is blocking integration and I can't live this way anymore. It takes all of my energy and then some just to do normal things that other people take for granted. Let's say I need to eat, sleep, bathe, wash the dishes, buy the food and pay attention to my kids. Yeah, let's say that, because that is the stuff I do. AND IT COSTS ME. I'm lucky when I can do all that and there is NOTHING left over when I can. This is not living, this is existence. Which is utterly ridiculous. I live in the land of plenty, I'm not old, I don't have any big physical issues, I can see, hear, speak, think (usually) and I have two arms and two legs and they all work just fine. And yet things are so hard because I am not 'together' inside. And because I carry such weight on my back and am afraid that there is no place that is safe enough to put it down. This is not right and I won't stand for it anymore. I have come too far to stop here. And here sucks anyway.

Where do I want to be? My dreams might seem small to some, but they are mine. They are important to me. You know what I want? I want to write my fiction again. I want to go outdoors without being triggered by some unexpected thing. I want to take photos again. I want to sleep at night and be awake in the day without wishing I were dead. I want to have sex with my husband without it causing a disaster. Maybe, just maybe, I could even be there for it and be connected without wanting to swallow a bottle of pills in the aftermath? Maybe I could even visit my son. These are my dreams. They are things that other people just DO without having to think and plan and plot to try to make them happen somehow without having them cause a nervous breakdown. Most people do not have to plan so extensively the everyday things of life. Well.. I DO HAVE TO. And I'm damn sick and tired of it. And this right here is why I hate my mother and do not feel obligated to protect her. I did not do this to myself. It was done TO me and I will NEVER kiss the ass of some dumb rancid bitch who won't see this. EVER. NOT EVER. And I make not a single apology for that, nor will I ever. May she rot. I'm on MY side. That nasty cunt is on her own.

The 'HOW' of this piece is a trickier thing. How do I get to be in some better place? The first thing is to remove the block (the old therapist a.k.a. the Dream Mother). This is harder than it sounds because of the little girl whose hand I was holding when I wrote the last post, but I will tell you because the hand I am holding right now is very powerful and he says (thank you, Rambo) that I can say whatever the fuck I damn well please and I know he will hold me if I fall. And it's this that I want to say: The HOW involves being able to listen to more than one person at a time. I have to listen to the little girl's heartbreak, listen to the teenage girl who was hurt by the old therapist, listen to Rambo's anger about that, listen to the thin whistle in the ether that is Jenny watching us to make sure we take no misstep. And I STILL have to eat, sleep, bathe, etc. No wonder I'm so fucking tired and cranky. You would be, too. Unless you dissociated some of that stuff, and I can't do that right now or this won't go right. I have to FIGHT to remain so conscious. The last time I tried to let go of the old therapist, I had to dissociate the little girl to do it. She came crawling out of the dungeon later and I had to fight her when she called the old therapist to get him to come back. I lost that fight. This time I have New Guy to help me with the girl. I can't handle her by myself. So, yeah. That's the 'HOW'. Sometimes I am not enough all by myself. Such is life.

HOW? How will I end up somewhere else from here? I will fight to stay conscious, I will hold Rambo's hand, I will let the little one hold New Guy's hand and I will keep my eye on the prize. And *I* AM the prize. ALL of me. I will do this. I can and I WILL. In spite of my disgusting family of origin, I am finally convinced that I am worth the struggle.

And now I'm going to bed. Yeah, I had to break my streak of going to bed 'early' because I had to do some normal things that other people take for granted. Yep. I hate the bitch. Sorry excuse for a mother she was/ is. Goddamn dumb cunt. And he was no better. Worse, even. Sick fucking pervert. If he hadn't been cremated, I would seriously consider digging him up so I could chop off his dick and crush it under my heel just for fun. And no, something like that would most definitely not make me puke. Food might, but good shit like that would not. And I need a therapist who GETS that shit instead of covering his own cock when the topic comes up. (Down, Rambo - let's go to bed, dude.)