Thursday, June 30, 2011
Big Space
The universe is a pretty big space. It's bigger than anything anyone has ever dreamed of before. So, if it's just us, seems like an awful waste of space, right? Carl Sagan
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Love Changing
"You can't punish yourself into change. You can't whip yourself into shape. But you can love yourself into well-being." ~ Susan Skye posted on Express MiE facebook.
We are shaped and fashioned by what we love. Goethe
You will always excel at what makes you happy. Pam Young - InnerKiddies
The Narcissistic Continuum
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Real people
The internet is full of real people. - Me
15 years ago I had my first introduction to the internet involving police. Fortunately, I could prove that the junior high student cyber bullying another student wasn't using the school's computers. He used his mother's computer at work. When the kid was caught, his only response was that it was just the computer and there wasn't a real person involved. Except there was a real little girl, about 10 years old, terrified of what this 11 year old bully had written to her and about her on the internet. The kid got a smack on the wrist since there were no laws that covered bullying cross country. Took me years to finally use the internet for anything other than what was absolutely necessary. I decided there were scary people out there that didn't understand I am a real person. My children got there own password for our home computer for their 18th birthday. They all knew that mom could and would check up on what they were doing. Yes, more than once I was accused of being an over protective parent. I also knew there were some really scary people out there. The internet has grown into a huge community of people. Like any community you have caring wonderful people that want to help others, share hope, and make the world a better place. There also those that are dishonest, con artist with a new way to scam people. Then there are those that are mean and vicious using the internet to spread their nets to capture more victims. The horror stories are many. I viewed first hand the horrible places a junior high student could go while the teacher ignored him while she taught the class. I saw some of the worse first. My photography work introduced me to the brighter side of the internet. This year I started this blog. My reasons were many. What I didn't expect was to stumble onto mulderfan's and upsi's blogs. I discovered real, caring people that were struggling with some of the same problems I was, narcissistics in the family. From there I learned about other people that are learning lessons in life and sharing with others. I also learned about "Trolls." Human beings that don't seem to realize that the computer links you to other human beings. I learned that I need to be cautious yet caring. Words I have said have offended people. I try not to do that but I am human and sometimes my opinions come from a very different place. Sometimes the written word just fails to convey what I mean. Sometimes it is just that, a difference of opinion. Words only. No body language, no tone of voice, no clues other than words on a page makes it difficult for everyone to communicate sometimes. I try to tread softly. I try to be caring. I want to add a little piece that might help someone else like I have been helped. Thank you to all the people out there sharing what they have learned. This world is a better place because of you. Thank you readers for coming here and sharing your comments, reminds me that there are people out there reading my words. We can share with this world the light that we have, our kindness, our struggles, our triumphs. Thanks all you real people for making this an incredible experience for me.
15 years ago I had my first introduction to the internet involving police. Fortunately, I could prove that the junior high student cyber bullying another student wasn't using the school's computers. He used his mother's computer at work. When the kid was caught, his only response was that it was just the computer and there wasn't a real person involved. Except there was a real little girl, about 10 years old, terrified of what this 11 year old bully had written to her and about her on the internet. The kid got a smack on the wrist since there were no laws that covered bullying cross country. Took me years to finally use the internet for anything other than what was absolutely necessary. I decided there were scary people out there that didn't understand I am a real person. My children got there own password for our home computer for their 18th birthday. They all knew that mom could and would check up on what they were doing. Yes, more than once I was accused of being an over protective parent. I also knew there were some really scary people out there. The internet has grown into a huge community of people. Like any community you have caring wonderful people that want to help others, share hope, and make the world a better place. There also those that are dishonest, con artist with a new way to scam people. Then there are those that are mean and vicious using the internet to spread their nets to capture more victims. The horror stories are many. I viewed first hand the horrible places a junior high student could go while the teacher ignored him while she taught the class. I saw some of the worse first. My photography work introduced me to the brighter side of the internet. This year I started this blog. My reasons were many. What I didn't expect was to stumble onto mulderfan's and upsi's blogs. I discovered real, caring people that were struggling with some of the same problems I was, narcissistics in the family. From there I learned about other people that are learning lessons in life and sharing with others. I also learned about "Trolls." Human beings that don't seem to realize that the computer links you to other human beings. I learned that I need to be cautious yet caring. Words I have said have offended people. I try not to do that but I am human and sometimes my opinions come from a very different place. Sometimes the written word just fails to convey what I mean. Sometimes it is just that, a difference of opinion. Words only. No body language, no tone of voice, no clues other than words on a page makes it difficult for everyone to communicate sometimes. I try to tread softly. I try to be caring. I want to add a little piece that might help someone else like I have been helped. Thank you to all the people out there sharing what they have learned. This world is a better place because of you. Thank you readers for coming here and sharing your comments, reminds me that there are people out there reading my words. We can share with this world the light that we have, our kindness, our struggles, our triumphs. Thanks all you real people for making this an incredible experience for me.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Words
The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.
Mark Twain
Edit - reviewing - double checking- reading again and I still missed the typo. Thanks to a kind, sharp eyed reader that caught the error in my post. (My sister is an awesome editor.) Changing of one letter changed the meaning. So frustrating, so irritating because spell check didn't catch the error since it was a perfectly correct word just not the word I wanted. So dear readers, thank you for being patient with me when my fingers stumble over themselves and thank you to those that kindly point out when it makes a difference but let it slide when it doesn't change the meaning. This gift of helping with out hurting is a beautiful thing. I lived in a place where every error, every slip up, every tiny mistake was brought under a microscope and examined so that I never make that mistake again. A relentless drive for me to become perfect. The perfect child of course means you are the perfect mother. I now practice making mistakes. Sudokus are a good place to practice, if I mess up no harm done. The world doesn't end with a comma in the wrong place. Love is not withdrawn if I don't do everything perfectly. I don't need to freeze in my tracks because I made a mistake. It is a beautiful thing when someone kindly asks if that is what I meant and gives me an opportunity to correct it if I want to. Thanks.
 |
| Imperfections don't make me useless or unworthy. |
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Nothing
To avoid criticism do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.
Elbert Hubbard
Chameleon, people pleaser, shadow of a person... Definitions for an ultimate survivor. Terror, nausea, victim... The inside view of an ultimate survivor. The ones with the most courage didn't survive. Vanquished, annihilated, doomed. The few that could twist and turn in the wind...change in a blink...disappear into a space within themselves that their abuser couldn't reach them. The child disappeared... The shell remained... Sometimes unmanned but mostly another would take the place. Specially designed to survive that situation. Traumatized...sliding into a gray void where the tormentors words could flow over you, through you, and around you but never touch you. One became two...two became...three...four...five.... Why didn't I reunite when I was young... Perhaps because ....there was no end to the nightmare....Perhaps all the parts had a purpose in the survival of the whole.... perhaps no one will ever know since the answers lay hidden deep in my mind where even I don't want to go.
Few people, professional or other wise, acknowledge the severe damaged caused by a constant flow of criticism. No piece of clay turns into a pot if it is constantly pulverized into nothingness. Acid rain on the garden every droplet increasing the damage. Grayness... nothingness...disappearing into the void....
A sliver of hope shines into the grayness...alluring....drawing....struggling to reach its opening.....
Some never found that sliver of hope...disappeared from life...those that found and strove towards hope eventually attained a place of decision. Move forward into the light of hope or cower in the grayness.
Choices impossible to articulate...Stepping out of the grayness...Into the hope that life is good...people are kind...there is another choice...I found my sliver of hope.... I strengthened my resolve... I stepped into the light... from victim to survivor to Thriving. Many said that it couldn't be done. 20,000 lemmings can be wrong. Find your hope and focus on that piece that tells you the criticism is wrong... Hang on.........
Chameleon, people pleaser, shadow of a person... Definitions for an ultimate survivor. Terror, nausea, victim... The inside view of an ultimate survivor. The ones with the most courage didn't survive. Vanquished, annihilated, doomed. The few that could twist and turn in the wind...change in a blink...disappear into a space within themselves that their abuser couldn't reach them. The child disappeared... The shell remained... Sometimes unmanned but mostly another would take the place. Specially designed to survive that situation. Traumatized...sliding into a gray void where the tormentors words could flow over you, through you, and around you but never touch you. One became two...two became...three...four...five.... Why didn't I reunite when I was young... Perhaps because ....there was no end to the nightmare....Perhaps all the parts had a purpose in the survival of the whole.... perhaps no one will ever know since the answers lay hidden deep in my mind where even I don't want to go.
Few people, professional or other wise, acknowledge the severe damaged caused by a constant flow of criticism. No piece of clay turns into a pot if it is constantly pulverized into nothingness. Acid rain on the garden every droplet increasing the damage. Grayness... nothingness...disappearing into the void....
Some never found that sliver of hope...disappeared from life...those that found and strove towards hope eventually attained a place of decision. Move forward into the light of hope or cower in the grayness.
Choices impossible to articulate...Stepping out of the grayness...Into the hope that life is good...people are kind...there is another choice...I found my sliver of hope.... I strengthened my resolve... I stepped into the light... from victim to survivor to Thriving. Many said that it couldn't be done. 20,000 lemmings can be wrong. Find your hope and focus on that piece that tells you the criticism is wrong... Hang on.........
Saturday, June 25, 2011
WYSIWYG
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thicker than water
Thanks to NewCounselor for assistance in finding a solution to this weeks challenges. I am really thankful to have a second really good counselor.
On Jonsi's blog she has shared the interactions that have occurred with her husbands family of origin. You can read the post that generated upsi's reply at:
http://jonsi-jonsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/nmil-puppeteer.html
I've been researching the origins of the expression "blood is thicker than water" and it turns out it means exactly the opposite of what people use it for. People use it to mean family ties are the most important, but really the saying comes from the idea of a blood covenant - "blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb" - in other words, the bonds we make in faith are stronger than those of family.
The bonds we forge in choice, with all our hearts and all our faith, with those we make a promise to stand by and honor, are thicker than the water we're born in - stronger than the bonds with the family we're born into. Because we choose to make those covenants. What we choose for ourselves is stronger than what is chosen for us.
I have been haunted by this saying on more than one occasion. It is a relief to know that the meaning had been twisted from the original. I agree 100% that ties to what we have chosen should be stronger than the randomness of birth.
On Jonsi's blog she has shared the interactions that have occurred with her husbands family of origin. You can read the post that generated upsi's reply at:
http://jonsi-jonsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/nmil-puppeteer.html
I've been researching the origins of the expression "blood is thicker than water" and it turns out it means exactly the opposite of what people use it for. People use it to mean family ties are the most important, but really the saying comes from the idea of a blood covenant - "blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb" - in other words, the bonds we make in faith are stronger than those of family.
The bonds we forge in choice, with all our hearts and all our faith, with those we make a promise to stand by and honor, are thicker than the water we're born in - stronger than the bonds with the family we're born into. Because we choose to make those covenants. What we choose for ourselves is stronger than what is chosen for us.
I have been haunted by this saying on more than one occasion. It is a relief to know that the meaning had been twisted from the original. I agree 100% that ties to what we have chosen should be stronger than the randomness of birth.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Body slammed
I really thought that the type of counseling session where you come out feeling like you have been body-slammed were behind me. Crumbs. I knew I had hit high stress garbage but I didn't realize until about half way through today's session that I am rattled clear to my core. I keep reminding myself that permanent life changes are not comfortable, not easy, and so worth it. Driving home I had to take a break half way through. (Counselor is a 45 minute drive away.) I stopped to grab something sugary and so not what I should be eating. While I was there, I found this amazing salad plate with the coolest tree frog hanging in some flowers. The cashier asked me about the plate. I first said it was cool. Then I added, "I have grandchildren. That's my story and I am sticking to it." Some cashiers should not interact with costumers. I think the grandkids will enjoy the plate too. Might need to go back for more of them.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Satisfying Day
| Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's when you've had everything to do, and you've done it. Margaret Thatcher I needed a good day. I started the morning with my sister seeing a friend. Then I attended Toastmasters and took an extra role in the meeting since several people had last minute emergencies. (When I first started I wouldn't even talk at all.) I then visited with another friend. Early evening out of town family dropped by for a few minutes. Then ended the evening with reading FB and reading the blogs I enjoy following. A very satisfying day. I am looking forward to tomorrow when I can visit with NewCounselor. I have a ton of stuff to talk about from the last few days. The rest of his vacation was uneventful. In fact, Monday morning had me thinking that I really didn't have much to say to him at all. It all changed in a matter of a few hours. Tough reminder that my healing is a slow and difficult process. I am still in counseling for a reason. I am looking to a brighter day.  Every once in awhile I encounter something that reminds me strongly of my years as a multiple. I talked with another person that also faces the challenges of DID. She was frustrated when one of her alters had done something that she didn't know how to undo. Her friend asked, "Well why don't you just make your alter fix the problem?" I burst out laughing. I knew I was being rude. But I just knew that her singleton friend had NO IDEA how completely the alters take over control. In books, some TV shows, and some movies the portrayal of multiple identity plays out as one big happy family living in a single body. For me, and for others I know, this is not the case. My alters were formed during extremely violent and terrifying moments in my life. Those moments that take minutes but feel like years. The alter took control of the situation to survive. This is not friends passing the baton. It is more like a crazy free-for-all like murder ball where you cream who ever has the ball. Some of the alters are literally fighting for their lives. Imagine a RAGE CAGE with 5, 10 or 15 players and the ball is the use of the body. Each is trying to play out their lives. Not until I was very close to integration was I able to negotiate and persuade some level of cooperation. The thought and concept that I could 'make' one of the my alters do anything was, well, laughable. Fortunately, the person facing the challenge is very kind and didn't smack me for laughing. She even understood that for a multiple to control one of the alters is almost impossible. The reason they formed was to take over from a part that was failing to survive. Once my alters became aware of each other, the power struggles followed. Yes, some of my alters did purposely get me into problems that I didn't know how to solve to prove to me that I needed them. Before integration, I had to persuade all my alters that we needed each other without the inside walls. I needed to reform my structure of living through integration to learn how to thrive. The effort paid off. The stress from this week did not cause me to split off alters. Integration didn't have any cracks at all.
|
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
I'm FINE
The more things change, the more they remain... insane. - Michael Fry and T. Lewis from Over the Hedge
FINE - Freaked out Insecure Neurotic Emotional
I retreat into art to cope. Put up a new sequence on my other blog. Enjoy.
http://ruthmower.blogspot.com/2011/06/view-point.html
Also sent an emergency email to New Counselor. I almost dread having my life go well. Seems like when every things start to go awesome, a brick wall suddenly smacks me in the face. Feeling a bit like a fish in a man-made lake - "DAM."
I retreat into art to cope. Put up a new sequence on my other blog. Enjoy.
http://ruthmower.blogspot.com/2011/06/view-point.html
Also sent an emergency email to New Counselor. I almost dread having my life go well. Seems like when every things start to go awesome, a brick wall suddenly smacks me in the face. Feeling a bit like a fish in a man-made lake - "DAM."
Monday, June 20, 2011
Quotes
I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forget their use.
Galileo Galilei
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.
Aristotle
Tonight my mind imploded. Tomorrow I will sort through the shrapnel. Many thanks to fellow bloggers sharing their stories. What was shared tonight helped me tremendously to keep in mind that problems are not just me.
http://muldrfan.blogspot.com/2011/06/reflecting-back-on-my-obsession.html
http://upsi-upsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/condescending-christians.html
http://kikimatters.blogspot.com/2011/06/only-because-shes-my-mother.html
Another to add thanks for permission to use. This was a huge help seeing how someone else process information sent to them. Thank you.
http://transcendingindifference.blogspot.com/2011/06/man-in-boys-life-does-not-father-make.html
Tonight my mind imploded. Tomorrow I will sort through the shrapnel. Many thanks to fellow bloggers sharing their stories. What was shared tonight helped me tremendously to keep in mind that problems are not just me.
http://muldrfan.blogspot.com/2011/06/reflecting-back-on-my-obsession.html
http://upsi-upsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/condescending-christians.html
http://kikimatters.blogspot.com/2011/06/only-because-shes-my-mother.html
Another to add thanks for permission to use. This was a huge help seeing how someone else process information sent to them. Thank you.
http://transcendingindifference.blogspot.com/2011/06/man-in-boys-life-does-not-father-make.html
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The one that counts
| |||
This poem, we originally believed was written by an anonymous prisoner. We have since located the true owner and author of the poem which we incorrectly titled, like so many others, Our father, Peter "Dale" Wimbrow Sr. wrote the poem "The Guy in the Glass in 1934. It was published in the American magazine at that time and the copyright was assigned to our father. The poem has become also known, incorrectly, as "The Man in the Glass" or sometimes, "The Man in the Mirror", but the thought is the same, the message clear...'you can fool the whole world down the pathway of years, but you can't fool the guy staring back from the glass' The Man In The Mirror. We have also corrected what we believed to be a spelling mistake in the word pelf to self. The original had the word pelf which is an informal word for money or wealth etc. We have corrected our mistake and replaced self with the correct pelf. We have also included another paragraph which we were not aware of, in the original. Peter Dale Wimbrow, Jr. |
When you get all you want and you struggle for pelf,
and the world makes you king for a day,
then go to the mirror and look at yourself
and see what that man has to say.
For it isn't your mother, your father or wife
whose judgment upon you must pass,
but the man, whose verdict counts most in your life
is the one staring back from the glass.
He's the fellow to please,
never mind all the rest.
For he's with you right to the end,
and you've passed your most difficult test
if the man in the glass is your friend.
You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum,
And think you're a wonderful guy,
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.
You can fool the whole world,
down the highway of years,
and take pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
if you've cheated the man in the glass.
The Man In The Mirror
If you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say
For it isn't a man's father, mother or wife
Whose judgement upon him must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in his life
Is the man staring back from the glass
He's the fellow to please, never mind the rest
For he's with you clear up to the end
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend
You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward wil be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass
-- A convict; found on the walls of his cell
Friday, June 17, 2011
More Stuff
I decided I had too much stuff buzzing around in my head for just one post. Plus the added bonus of some awesome comments that provided more links to get rid of Stuff.
One of the things I touched on is the difference integration made. Before I went to counseling, I felt confused when I felt guilty throwing anything away. Why I felt guilty didn't make sense until after I was in counseling for about a year. By then, I knew I functioned as a multiple personality. I felt guilty that I was throwing away something that belonged to someone else, which in a sense, I was. I would put something in a bag to be given away and a few days later I would find it right back where I had taken it from. This really confused me why someone in my family kept putting things back. Counseling helped me understand that someone was me. Well, one of the other mes. You start to see how being a multiple can be extremely frustrating. With integration came the blessed release of I put it in a bag to be given away and it stays there. The stuff is mine to get rid of, as I see fit. Now occasionally I change my mind, but I know I change my mind and I know I decided not to give the item away. Integration made a wonderful difference, it helped me to understand what belongs to me. If I own it, then I can give it away or throw it away. What I own and what belongs to me are boundary issues that I could not address until after I integrated.
One of the comments came from Kiki. She passed on a great website:
http://zenhabits.net/the-beginners-guide-to-zen-habits-a-guided-tour/
This is the start to a website with a lot of information.
The specific area I was looking for was located at:
http://zenhabits.net/zen-mind-how-to-declutter/
I was delighted when I saw that one of the links at the bottom of the page linked to Flylady:
http://www.flylady.net/pages/FLYingLessons_Declutter.asp
I am not the only one with challenges with clutter.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that being an integrated multiple does not make me any less prone to making very 'normal' mistakes and facing 'normal' challenges. Now that I am integrated, I use different solutions other than switching to a different personality. I was delighted today when I found something I have looked for almost a year. You never gonna find something looking in the wrong room. I also like the fact that I am starting to learn where I put stuff. Clutter is a 'normal' problem that many people wrestle with what to do with that program from a special event, the gift from a grandmother or a flower dried but still hanging on to a memory. My camera is going to come in very hand with some items. Snap the picture and let the object go to a new home of usefulness.
One of the things I touched on is the difference integration made. Before I went to counseling, I felt confused when I felt guilty throwing anything away. Why I felt guilty didn't make sense until after I was in counseling for about a year. By then, I knew I functioned as a multiple personality. I felt guilty that I was throwing away something that belonged to someone else, which in a sense, I was. I would put something in a bag to be given away and a few days later I would find it right back where I had taken it from. This really confused me why someone in my family kept putting things back. Counseling helped me understand that someone was me. Well, one of the other mes. You start to see how being a multiple can be extremely frustrating. With integration came the blessed release of I put it in a bag to be given away and it stays there. The stuff is mine to get rid of, as I see fit. Now occasionally I change my mind, but I know I change my mind and I know I decided not to give the item away. Integration made a wonderful difference, it helped me to understand what belongs to me. If I own it, then I can give it away or throw it away. What I own and what belongs to me are boundary issues that I could not address until after I integrated.
One of the comments came from Kiki. She passed on a great website:
http://zenhabits.net/the-beginners-guide-to-zen-habits-a-guided-tour/
This is the start to a website with a lot of information.
The specific area I was looking for was located at:
http://zenhabits.net/zen-mind-how-to-declutter/
I was delighted when I saw that one of the links at the bottom of the page linked to Flylady:
http://www.flylady.net/pages/FLYingLessons_Declutter.asp
I am not the only one with challenges with clutter.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that being an integrated multiple does not make me any less prone to making very 'normal' mistakes and facing 'normal' challenges. Now that I am integrated, I use different solutions other than switching to a different personality. I was delighted today when I found something I have looked for almost a year. You never gonna find something looking in the wrong room. I also like the fact that I am starting to learn where I put stuff. Clutter is a 'normal' problem that many people wrestle with what to do with that program from a special event, the gift from a grandmother or a flower dried but still hanging on to a memory. My camera is going to come in very hand with some items. Snap the picture and let the object go to a new home of usefulness.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Stuff
I have one room that looks like a scene from Hoarders. Stuffed with stuff in boxes and bags. Stuffed in closets and on shelves. For one of my art projects the teacher required me not to plan it out in advance. I looked at him blankly. How could I possibly do an art project without planning? I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. I would take one of my boxes from childhood that had been stored in my parent's basement for over 25 years and open it. I would take pictures of the contents. Now for most people this could be a lovely waltz down memory line. Unfortunately, my childhood was more like a war zone. Almost every item in that box acted like a land mind. Explosions all over the place. The project turned into 4 semesters worth of projects, a poem, and a section of pictures in my book. (Link to my book We Are One at the bottom of my blog.) After the smoke and dust cleared, I assessed the shrapnel damage and didn't touch any more boxes in that room for years. Now, I want to reclaim my sewing/crafts/photo room from the stuff. Flylady http://www.flylady.net/ did a lot to set me on the right path but couldn't get me past the anxiety attacks that hit in less than the 15 minutes she recommends for decluttering. Stale mate. What to do? I dropped to 5 minute intervals. Still no go. Thought some more. My daughter's suggestion to rethink the problem landed along the same thoughts I was already struggling with. I needed to rethink the problem from the ground up. I am not throwing away stuff; I am making room for me to work. I am not dejunking my room; I am bringing order to the space I want to feel comfortable in. I am a singleton; I do not need to worry if the stuff belongs to someone else. I can remember things; I do not need to harbor evidence of past events. I am still in counseling so if I run into an emotional explosion; first aid is only an email away. Well, I can see more of the floor than I have been able to see in years. I actually threw away some items without an anxiety attack to go with it. I am determined to beat this.
Have you ever noticed when you are trying to solve a big problem, ideas and suggestions start popping up? I have a link to Wiki How to's. I haven't seen anything interesting for quite a while then tonight, there it was:
The poem that I wrote after opening the dreaded box.
Treasured Pieces
Forgotten past
Lost in the recesses of a suppressed mind.
The facade cracks – the filth of my past oozes into my consciousness.
In this filthy river are bits and pieces of
treasured moments.
Collect them
Polish them
Store them where they are safe.
Bring them out and remember.
Life can be good.
Moments can be precious.
Savor the good that exists.
I can not change my past.
I can decide my future
Do I spread the ooze or
Create moments to be treasured?
Only I decide.
I can decide to let go of things that do not matter.
Have you ever noticed when you are trying to solve a big problem, ideas and suggestions start popping up? I have a link to Wiki How to's. I haven't seen anything interesting for quite a while then tonight, there it was:
How to Let Go of Sentimental Clutter
I was amazed and astounded about the suggestions and the concept that my battle with clutter is directly related to my struggle with boundaries. I would not have paired these two concepts at all. Now that I think about it, boundaries being the root of the clutter problem makes total sense. I am still intimidated by some of the mystery boxes but I am also determined to put my past where it belongs....in my past. I am terrified to post 'before' pictures of my room in case someone sends it to Hoarders and they try to put me on their show. I do know that things can be monster triggers to events that terrify me in my nightmares. But that is just it. They are THINGS. Not events. Not feelings. Not who I am. Letting go will not end my world. Maybe what I will do is post 'after' pictures with my awesome space when it is done. Well kind readers, those pictures will not be any time soon.The poem that I wrote after opening the dreaded box.
Treasured Pieces
Forgotten past
Lost in the recesses of a suppressed mind.
The facade cracks – the filth of my past oozes into my consciousness.
In this filthy river are bits and pieces of
treasured moments.
Collect them
Polish them
Store them where they are safe.
Bring them out and remember.
Life can be good.
Moments can be precious.
Savor the good that exists.
I can not change my past.
I can decide my future
Do I spread the ooze or
Create moments to be treasured?
Only I decide.
I can decide to let go of things that do not matter.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
All things relative
Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.
Albert Einstein
You can get much further with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.
Albert Einstein
You can get much further with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.
Al Capone
When truth is nothing but the truth, it's unnatural, it's an abstraction that resembles nothing in the real world. In nature there are always so many other irrelevant things mixed up with the essential truth.
When truth is nothing but the truth, it's unnatural, it's an abstraction that resembles nothing in the real world. In nature there are always so many other irrelevant things mixed up with the essential truth.
Aldous Huxley
Relative to what? When I married, my DH described a home life that I decided was much worse than anything I ever experienced. 25 years later we went to marriage counseling. The kids were all leaving home to start their own families and lives. I felt like I couldn't communicate with DH since all we seemed to talk about was the kids. Enter counseling and KavinCoach. Within a few months, he pointed out that I was the problem. Thanks. That was just awesome. DH's childhood was worse than what I could remember. I just didn't remember anything before Junior High and not much of that either. ABUSE. A big ugly word that represent a whole gamut of activities. KavinCoach watched my behavior, what bothered me, and mostly what didn't bother me. He gave me several books on severe abuse and my only reaction was 'what do you want me to learn from it?' Relative to the books I read what I remembered wasn't so bad. Relative to what could have happened, my abuse wasn't that bad. Then KavinCoach explained that if I was a child living in the conditions I described, he would have taken me out of my home. This from a counselor that advocates in court to keep families together when possible. Suddenly in my mind, the relative mild abuse I thought I experienced was not so mild. The realization that my situation if I lived that way as a child today, I would have landed in a group home, rocked my relative thinking. During this time KavinCoach taught me abuse is abuse. Don't compare it. Don't minimize it. Don't exaggerate it. Don't excuse it. STOP telling myself that relatively speaking it wasn't THAT bad. It was bad stuff done by my relatives and neighbor. People that should have cared for me. Adults that should have protected me. The theory of relativity works for many things, abuse is not one of them. Abuse is the purposeful harming of another human being. Usually someone bigger and stronger on a victim with no chance of escape. First step to changing from victim to survivor is to accept that abuse happened. The next step from survivor to thriving abuse does NOT define who I am. I am an adult woman that enjoys many things. I love the sunrise. Today was made for me. The adventure of today starts when I open my eyes. What do I want to do with the rest of my life, starting today?
 |
| Bridge to my future. |
Relative to what? When I married, my DH described a home life that I decided was much worse than anything I ever experienced. 25 years later we went to marriage counseling. The kids were all leaving home to start their own families and lives. I felt like I couldn't communicate with DH since all we seemed to talk about was the kids. Enter counseling and KavinCoach. Within a few months, he pointed out that I was the problem. Thanks. That was just awesome. DH's childhood was worse than what I could remember. I just didn't remember anything before Junior High and not much of that either. ABUSE. A big ugly word that represent a whole gamut of activities. KavinCoach watched my behavior, what bothered me, and mostly what didn't bother me. He gave me several books on severe abuse and my only reaction was 'what do you want me to learn from it?' Relative to the books I read what I remembered wasn't so bad. Relative to what could have happened, my abuse wasn't that bad. Then KavinCoach explained that if I was a child living in the conditions I described, he would have taken me out of my home. This from a counselor that advocates in court to keep families together when possible. Suddenly in my mind, the relative mild abuse I thought I experienced was not so mild. The realization that my situation if I lived that way as a child today, I would have landed in a group home, rocked my relative thinking. During this time KavinCoach taught me abuse is abuse. Don't compare it. Don't minimize it. Don't exaggerate it. Don't excuse it. STOP telling myself that relatively speaking it wasn't THAT bad. It was bad stuff done by my relatives and neighbor. People that should have cared for me. Adults that should have protected me. The theory of relativity works for many things, abuse is not one of them. Abuse is the purposeful harming of another human being. Usually someone bigger and stronger on a victim with no chance of escape. First step to changing from victim to survivor is to accept that abuse happened. The next step from survivor to thriving abuse does NOT define who I am. I am an adult woman that enjoys many things. I love the sunrise. Today was made for me. The adventure of today starts when I open my eyes. What do I want to do with the rest of my life, starting today?
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
QTIP
QTIP Quit Taking It Personal
This was the tip of the day from the counselor that taught the True Colors seminar. The concept runs along the idea that in many school situations what the student does or says, often has nothing to do with the teacher. On the freeway, I have noticed the same thing. The monster black SUV cut me off because they didn't see me. The driver did not wake up that morning and decide that they were going to cut off that driver in the little white car. I realized in many situations that what the other person does has little or nothing to do with me. However, there are times that it is personal. Band back together posted this today: http://www.bandbacktogether.com/dont-take-infidelity-and-heartbreak-personally
The QTIP concept is very similar to the other book I am still reading on The Law of the Garbage Truck.
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2010/10/garbage-truck-experience.html
(Put it on hold for awhile and an now reading it again. On my list of summer projects to finish.)
Recently I had a narc moment with one of the narcissistics in my life. I realized that their criticism of me, that sounded very personal, really wasn't about me at all. I am studying in my books on boundaries about projection. I realized for the first time that the very personal criticism was the other person projecting their short comings on to me and then bitching me out for what they hadn't done. To say I was floored was the understatement of the century. I was really wondering how well The Law of the Garbage Truck would work in a close personal relationship. Now I am rethinking a lot with this new information from the boundaries book. I am thankful I have NewCounselor to bounce these new connections between criticism, projection, and 'it really isn't about me.' I am feeling a little like Alice falling through the rabbit hole and trying to make sense of Twiddle Dum and Twiddle Dee. Then I remind myself that I am more like the Mad Hatter coming out of the rabbit hole and deciding the 'real' world is crazier than where he came from.
This was the tip of the day from the counselor that taught the True Colors seminar. The concept runs along the idea that in many school situations what the student does or says, often has nothing to do with the teacher. On the freeway, I have noticed the same thing. The monster black SUV cut me off because they didn't see me. The driver did not wake up that morning and decide that they were going to cut off that driver in the little white car. I realized in many situations that what the other person does has little or nothing to do with me. However, there are times that it is personal. Band back together posted this today: http://www.bandbacktogether.com/dont-take-infidelity-and-heartbreak-personally
The QTIP concept is very similar to the other book I am still reading on The Law of the Garbage Truck.
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2010/10/garbage-truck-experience.html
(Put it on hold for awhile and an now reading it again. On my list of summer projects to finish.)
Recently I had a narc moment with one of the narcissistics in my life. I realized that their criticism of me, that sounded very personal, really wasn't about me at all. I am studying in my books on boundaries about projection. I realized for the first time that the very personal criticism was the other person projecting their short comings on to me and then bitching me out for what they hadn't done. To say I was floored was the understatement of the century. I was really wondering how well The Law of the Garbage Truck would work in a close personal relationship. Now I am rethinking a lot with this new information from the boundaries book. I am thankful I have NewCounselor to bounce these new connections between criticism, projection, and 'it really isn't about me.' I am feeling a little like Alice falling through the rabbit hole and trying to make sense of Twiddle Dum and Twiddle Dee. Then I remind myself that I am more like the Mad Hatter coming out of the rabbit hole and deciding the 'real' world is crazier than where he came from.
Monday, June 13, 2011
A Child revisited
upsi's article on a Confession of a mother that said she disliked her own child drew 17 comments with a wide range of reactions. I talked to Judy and she rewrote her comment into a more universal statement.
A Child Is...
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who blames their child for health problems is irresponsible.
*A child is not a Cabbage Patch Doll.
*An adult keeping "score" with a child is immature.
*A child is not a Build-A-Bear Doll.
*An adult who requires a child to make them feel better is emotionally abusive.
*A child is not a mail-order doll.
*An adult who expects a child to fill their needs is abusive.
*A child is not a store-bought doll.
*An adult who focuses on the negative and disregards the positive in their child is abusive.
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who sees their child as a doll in any way needs to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled brat that didn't get their way.
*A child is a human being.
*An adult who abuses a child, in any way, will pay the piper, someday. Not a threat; an observation.
*A child is not a blob to be molded as an adult sees fit.
*A child is unique and precious.
*An adult blessed with a child needs to be grateful they were given such a precious gift because there are plenty of people out there who want such a gift but are denied for reasons beyond their power.
*A child is a gift.
©Judy 13 June 2011
This is followed by reading Kiki's comments at the bottom of upsi's page:
All right. So, parents don't always love absolutely everything that their kid does, but the mother seemed almost to HATE everything that her daughter was. And the happiness that realizing that Sophie had a medical condition was like just a huge, fat justification for her, or so it reads. It's like, "Oh, I knew Sophie was effed up! I'm sad I was a jerk, but I knew she was effed up!"
Now, it's like Sophie is "My Child With a Medical Condition Whom I Will Love" rather than just "Sophie."
My children aren't cookie cut outs of me. I didn't regenerate clones. I didn't chop off a piece of me like a plant, stick it in water, and attempt to grow new versions of myself. The world, for better or for worse, already has this Kiki. It doesn't need other mutations or variations of Kiki. One's enough. And the world instead needs a Becky, a Clark, a Logan, etc.
I find it the epitome of self-absorption when people love children who are most like themselves or who attempt to swap out the gift they were given for a different model. It's an insult on so many levels.
Children are human beings that one happened to give birth to or happened to adopt. They are not your clone. They are not a mini version of you. And even if they have a hundred similarities with you, even if they look like you did at that age, even if you have the same look about you, they are still not and never will be YOU.
You love your child because your child is a person, wonderfully made, created as a unique being, crafted in a way that no other person in the world will ever be exactly like this little child before you. The child is to be loved because the child is rare and precious. The child must be loved and protected and allowed to grow to be a unique adult.
Children are not clones.
I also was deeply touched by Kiki's blog post on raising children.
http://kikimatters.blogspot.com/2011/06/while-reading-gordimer.html
When I was 17, I was planning to never marry or have children. I heard that abuse victims abused their children, I wasn't going to do that. So I wasn't going to have children. Fortunately, several events happened in my life that I changed my mind. I can say one thing. An abuse victim can choose to get the help they need so they do not do to their children what was done to them. Continuing the cycle of abuse is a choice. So is deciding to break the chain of abuse. I agree with Judy and Kiki, children are gift that each parent has a responsibility to take care of and protect.
What is a Chain Breaker:
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2011/04/chain-breakers.html
Choosing to be a Chain Breaker:
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2011/04/choosing-to-be-chain-breaker.html
A Child Is...
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who blames their child for health problems is irresponsible.
*A child is not a Cabbage Patch Doll.
*An adult keeping "score" with a child is immature.
*A child is not a Build-A-Bear Doll.
*An adult who requires a child to make them feel better is emotionally abusive.
*A child is not a mail-order doll.
*An adult who expects a child to fill their needs is abusive.
*A child is not a store-bought doll.
*An adult who focuses on the negative and disregards the positive in their child is abusive.
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who sees their child as a doll in any way needs to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled brat that didn't get their way.
*A child is a human being.
*An adult who abuses a child, in any way, will pay the piper, someday. Not a threat; an observation.
*A child is not a blob to be molded as an adult sees fit.
*A child is unique and precious.
*An adult blessed with a child needs to be grateful they were given such a precious gift because there are plenty of people out there who want such a gift but are denied for reasons beyond their power.
*A child is a gift.
©Judy 13 June 2011
This is followed by reading Kiki's comments at the bottom of upsi's page:
All right. So, parents don't always love absolutely everything that their kid does, but the mother seemed almost to HATE everything that her daughter was. And the happiness that realizing that Sophie had a medical condition was like just a huge, fat justification for her, or so it reads. It's like, "Oh, I knew Sophie was effed up! I'm sad I was a jerk, but I knew she was effed up!"
Now, it's like Sophie is "My Child With a Medical Condition Whom I Will Love" rather than just "Sophie."
My children aren't cookie cut outs of me. I didn't regenerate clones. I didn't chop off a piece of me like a plant, stick it in water, and attempt to grow new versions of myself. The world, for better or for worse, already has this Kiki. It doesn't need other mutations or variations of Kiki. One's enough. And the world instead needs a Becky, a Clark, a Logan, etc.
I find it the epitome of self-absorption when people love children who are most like themselves or who attempt to swap out the gift they were given for a different model. It's an insult on so many levels.
Children are human beings that one happened to give birth to or happened to adopt. They are not your clone. They are not a mini version of you. And even if they have a hundred similarities with you, even if they look like you did at that age, even if you have the same look about you, they are still not and never will be YOU.
You love your child because your child is a person, wonderfully made, created as a unique being, crafted in a way that no other person in the world will ever be exactly like this little child before you. The child is to be loved because the child is rare and precious. The child must be loved and protected and allowed to grow to be a unique adult.
Children are not clones.
I also was deeply touched by Kiki's blog post on raising children.
http://kikimatters.blogspot.com/2011/06/while-reading-gordimer.html
When I was 17, I was planning to never marry or have children. I heard that abuse victims abused their children, I wasn't going to do that. So I wasn't going to have children. Fortunately, several events happened in my life that I changed my mind. I can say one thing. An abuse victim can choose to get the help they need so they do not do to their children what was done to them. Continuing the cycle of abuse is a choice. So is deciding to break the chain of abuse. I agree with Judy and Kiki, children are gift that each parent has a responsibility to take care of and protect.
What is a Chain Breaker:
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2011/04/chain-breakers.html
Choosing to be a Chain Breaker:
http://weareone-ruth.blogspot.com/2011/04/choosing-to-be-chain-breaker.html
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Disillusioned future
Future: That period of time in which our affairs prosper, our friends are true and our happiness is assured. Ambrose BierceI found out after I was in counseling that the reason I had difficulty communicating with other people was that I used to function as a multiple personality. I was shocked. I just thought I had a really lousy memory. Missing hours or days of time. Never occurred to me that I had switched and another part of me took over. Strange things can happen in a conversation when the other person doesn't know they are talking to a different person in the same body. Shortly after finding out I was a multiple I committed to integrating. I believed that integration would solve my problems with communication and make it so I remembered everything all the time. Illusions about the future are so easy to create. So hard to let go of. I integrated 3 years ago. I had a reality check... and it bounced. I still have trouble communicating and my memory is still lousy. I was so disappointed. All this work and what did I have to show for it? The interesting thing about being disillusioned it makes way for reality. For me, that reality far exceeded my fantasy. I had no idea living without the luxury of switching out could be so hard and so rewarding. I feel peaceful inside in ways that were never possible for me before integration. I take responsibility for my actions because I know what they are. I know that I did it. As far as my memories are concerned, I accept that God's greatest blessing to me was to forget most of my childhood. There are good memories. I have delighted in remembering random things like my teacher's names. However, fuzzy is good when I remember bits and pieces of some of my past. I am no longer desperate to remember. Now, if I hit an ultra big trigger, I accept that I may not remember the source and set about defusing it any way. I learned I don't need all the details to protect or defuse a trigger. The other disillusion... integration did not solve all my problems. In fact, it created quite a few new ones. The difference, the access I have to healthy tools that work far better than switching. Before integration, the default solution was to switch personalities. Unfortunately, that wasn't always the best tool for the situation at hand. Now, I can control which way I solve a problem. Challenging... Yes. Impossible... No. Am I glad I integrated. Absolutely yes. Once the smoke of disillusionment was gone, I saw a bright new life that I never realized before integration was possible. My new future looks wonderful.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
A Child
Over at upsi she posted an article sent to her by a fellow blogger. This is the link:
http://upsi-upsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/confession.html
This is Judy's reply.
Judy said...
I think I can say this now without all the vitriol I was feeling.
*A child is not a doll.
*Just because a medical form lacks the choice you want, doesn't mean the doctor can't help.
*A child is not a Cabbage Patch Doll.
*An adult keeping "score" with a child is immature.
*A child is not a Build-A-Bear Doll.
*An adult who requires a child make them feel better is emotionally abusive.
*A child is not a mail-order doll.
*An adult who expects a child to fill their needs is abusive.
*A child is not a store-bought doll.
*An adult who focuses on the negative and disregards the positive in their child is abusive.
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who sees their child as a doll in any way needs to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled brat that didn't get their way.
*A child is a human being.
*An adult who abuses a child, in any way, will pay the piper, someday.
Not a threat; an observation.
*A child is not a blob to be molded as an adult sees fit.
*A child is unique and precious.
*An adult blessed with a child needs to be grateful they were given such a precious gift because there are plenty of people out there who want such a gift but are denied for reasons beyond their power.
*A child is a gift.
From me: AMEN!!!!
http://upsi-upsi.blogspot.com/2011/06/confession.html
This is Judy's reply.
Judy said...
I think I can say this now without all the vitriol I was feeling.
*A child is not a doll.
*Just because a medical form lacks the choice you want, doesn't mean the doctor can't help.
*A child is not a Cabbage Patch Doll.
*An adult keeping "score" with a child is immature.
*A child is not a Build-A-Bear Doll.
*An adult who requires a child make them feel better is emotionally abusive.
*A child is not a mail-order doll.
*An adult who expects a child to fill their needs is abusive.
*A child is not a store-bought doll.
*An adult who focuses on the negative and disregards the positive in their child is abusive.
*A child is not a doll.
*An adult who sees their child as a doll in any way needs to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled brat that didn't get their way.
*A child is a human being.
*An adult who abuses a child, in any way, will pay the piper, someday.
Not a threat; an observation.
*A child is not a blob to be molded as an adult sees fit.
*A child is unique and precious.
*An adult blessed with a child needs to be grateful they were given such a precious gift because there are plenty of people out there who want such a gift but are denied for reasons beyond their power.
*A child is a gift.
From me: AMEN!!!!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Impossible
I am looking for a lot of men who have an infinite capacity to not know what can't be done.
(Garfield chases Odie up a tree.)
Jon: Odie! Dogs can't climb trees!
Garfield: It's amazing what one can do when one doesn't know what one can't do.
(19 Jan 1982) Garfield Comic http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Garfield
“It's kind of fun to do the impossible.”
Walt Disney quotes (American motion-picture Producer, pioneer of animated cartoon films. 1901-1966)
For 14 years, I worked in computer labs and tried to keep them up and running. I kept Disney's quote up in my office. When the Garfield comic first ran, I cut it out and put it on my refrigerator. I like Henry Ford's view of the perfect employee. All tackled what someone told them couldn't be done.
I did many things in my life that I told myself I couldn't do. I would ignore my own negative voice put my head down and start moving forward. Sometimes that pace was a crawl but moving forward means you are not moving backward. I would run into a road block and I would think, "Over it, around it, through it, reinvent it." KavinCoach complained about my 'do or die attitude.' Ease up. I was driven to survive. I didn't seem to realize that I could go at a less stressful pace and enjoy the view more. There is one advantage of a driven attitude, you can do the impossible.
When I finally read the paper KavinCoach wrote for my work specifically stating my diagnosis I went to the university library and found 10 books spanning 40+ years of research on multiple personalities. The more I read the more my head spun. I read the early research and thanked God that nobody knew what was wrong with me when I was a teenager. Research and attitudes changed a LOT. After reading all the books I was so grateful that KavinCoach was the one teaching me how to live. He assured me that I was the only one that knew how I would integrate. I had an impossible task with no instructions on how to do it. I prayed and was shown one bit at a time. Here a little, there a little. I kept in counseling, studying, doing homework, writing, taking pictures, remembered many images from my past, I put my head down and kept moving forward.
I am a visual person. I actually think in images. When I thought about integration, I felt like I was on the edge of a deep ravine with a raging river below. I looked both ways but their was no bridge to cross. There were few materials on my side of the bank to build the bridge. I finally stopped looking at integration and started building a better me. I learned to like all the personalities. I learned to get them to cooperate and use their strengths to solve a problem. I stopped trying to cross the ravine and concentrated on becoming a better person every day. I started treating myself with respect. I started to paying attention to what I needed to be healthy. I kept thinking about what kind of person I wanted to be. I worked towards becoming that person. The day I took my Apple Computer Exam and passed it, I walked out of the test exhilarated and said, "I passed it." I was stunned. I had just done the impossible. I realized that day, there was just one I. In my effort to become a better person. I crossed over the ravine to integration. I looked back. The ravine was still there. Still there was no bridge. This is when I knew that while I was focused on improving myself Christ bridged the gap between what I could do for myself and what I couldn't do for myself. I know some people do not believe that Jesus Christ is our savior. I know that some people would discount what I am saying. That is OK. I know for myself that if I did all that I could Christ would make up the difference. I can honestly say I don't know how I did the impossible. I just know that I did my part to improve myself. I did my part to make healthy choices. Christ filled in the missing pieces. I am one personality and I feel like a won an Oscar, the Superbowl, and the Triple Crown. The joy and peace is a feeling that I never experienced as a multiple. I thank my Heavenly Father for blessings I can not count for so great is their number.
Jon: Odie! Dogs can't climb trees!
Garfield: It's amazing what one can do when one doesn't know what one can't do.
(19 Jan 1982) Garfield Comic http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Garfield
“It's kind of fun to do the impossible.”
Walt Disney quotes (American motion-picture Producer, pioneer of animated cartoon films. 1901-1966)
For 14 years, I worked in computer labs and tried to keep them up and running. I kept Disney's quote up in my office. When the Garfield comic first ran, I cut it out and put it on my refrigerator. I like Henry Ford's view of the perfect employee. All tackled what someone told them couldn't be done.
I did many things in my life that I told myself I couldn't do. I would ignore my own negative voice put my head down and start moving forward. Sometimes that pace was a crawl but moving forward means you are not moving backward. I would run into a road block and I would think, "Over it, around it, through it, reinvent it." KavinCoach complained about my 'do or die attitude.' Ease up. I was driven to survive. I didn't seem to realize that I could go at a less stressful pace and enjoy the view more. There is one advantage of a driven attitude, you can do the impossible.
When I finally read the paper KavinCoach wrote for my work specifically stating my diagnosis I went to the university library and found 10 books spanning 40+ years of research on multiple personalities. The more I read the more my head spun. I read the early research and thanked God that nobody knew what was wrong with me when I was a teenager. Research and attitudes changed a LOT. After reading all the books I was so grateful that KavinCoach was the one teaching me how to live. He assured me that I was the only one that knew how I would integrate. I had an impossible task with no instructions on how to do it. I prayed and was shown one bit at a time. Here a little, there a little. I kept in counseling, studying, doing homework, writing, taking pictures, remembered many images from my past, I put my head down and kept moving forward.
I am a visual person. I actually think in images. When I thought about integration, I felt like I was on the edge of a deep ravine with a raging river below. I looked both ways but their was no bridge to cross. There were few materials on my side of the bank to build the bridge. I finally stopped looking at integration and started building a better me. I learned to like all the personalities. I learned to get them to cooperate and use their strengths to solve a problem. I stopped trying to cross the ravine and concentrated on becoming a better person every day. I started treating myself with respect. I started to paying attention to what I needed to be healthy. I kept thinking about what kind of person I wanted to be. I worked towards becoming that person. The day I took my Apple Computer Exam and passed it, I walked out of the test exhilarated and said, "I passed it." I was stunned. I had just done the impossible. I realized that day, there was just one I. In my effort to become a better person. I crossed over the ravine to integration. I looked back. The ravine was still there. Still there was no bridge. This is when I knew that while I was focused on improving myself Christ bridged the gap between what I could do for myself and what I couldn't do for myself. I know some people do not believe that Jesus Christ is our savior. I know that some people would discount what I am saying. That is OK. I know for myself that if I did all that I could Christ would make up the difference. I can honestly say I don't know how I did the impossible. I just know that I did my part to improve myself. I did my part to make healthy choices. Christ filled in the missing pieces. I am one personality and I feel like a won an Oscar, the Superbowl, and the Triple Crown. The joy and peace is a feeling that I never experienced as a multiple. I thank my Heavenly Father for blessings I can not count for so great is their number.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Sisters
My earliest memory I was 5 years old standing on the lid of the toilet singing to my sister while my mother changed her on the counter in the bathroom. She would cry because the diaper rashes were so bad. We slept in the same double bed for years. I was a restless sleeper so for safety sake she lined up her plastic horses and other toys down the middle of the bed to keep me on my side of the bed. I watched out for her. Loved her. Things changed over time. Five years difference is a lot to a nine year old that has to take her little sister everywhere. Loved her but wanted to be on my own. Teen years I still watched out for her and worried. I saw mother not treating her well. Relaxed a little when I saw she had some close friends that lived close by. I didn't know the real story. I married and moved away. Many years passed. I am a terrible letter writer. If I called home I could speak to no one except mother. I became sicker. I heard snippets of news. My sister came and stayed with me after I had two of my children. I tried to connect but I missed the feeling of closeness we had in childhood. Something was wrong. I knew I had messed up. I just didn't know how to make things better or where to start. Finally moved back to within a mile of my parents home. I had sworn never to live in this city again. Life didn't work out that way. I tried to rebuild my relationship with my sister. Still felt a barrier. I didn't know how to change it. I figured I really screwed up. I drifted along. Surviving breast cancer jolted my world. Then I started counseling. I talked at my parents house about not remembering anything from childhood. I still remember standing out in front of my parents house talking to my sister when she asked me what I remembered. I told her that I remembered practically nothing. She started talking about one traumatic event that we were both there. She watched as all the color left my face and I nearly passed out. With dawning realization she muttered, "You acted as if nothing happened because you really don't remember." Flashes, images, fear spun through my mind. Shortly after this time I explained to my parents and sister that I was diagnosed with PTSD with Dissociation at a severe level. I explained that I functioned as a multiple personality. My parents denied it completely. My sister told me later that at first she thought that was pretty far fetched until she started thinking about my behavior over the years. The changes in what I would say, not remembering conversations, repeating the same question multiple times, changes in how I talked, hundreds of little behaviors that made sense when she accepted that I was a multiple personality. Around this time she gave me a card for encouragement that showed us both as gingerbread girls and she helped me out of the cookie jar. So our relationship changed yet again. My sister became my strongest ally in accepting my mental illness for what it was, an elaborate survival tool that out lived its usefulness. We started walking and talking on a weekly basis. She didn't mind when each of the personalities would ask the same question. She went along with the switching and would listen to cues in my voice and vocabulary as to which one she was talking too. She was trusted enough that at one time or another she had talked to each of the different personalities. She supported and encouraged me as I integrated. She validated my memories as I remembered things so bizarre. She got after me when I was being unreasonable with counselor, family, or myself. In our childhood, I took care of my sister. As adults, my sister took care of me. I will always thank God for sending my sister Judy to my house. I am so sorry she had to suffer some of the things that she did. I truly believe that Judy made all the difference in my recovery. PTSD will be with me all of my life. Judy will be right there loving me through it. Thank God for Judy.
Trust and Love
As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.
As I love myself,
I allow others to love me too.
Monday, May 09, 2011
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Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Photography
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
http://mediawebmonster.com/FavoriteQuotes/EncouragingWords/
widget 365 Days of Encouraging words.
Most puzzling to me is parents that in their own world demand that their children keep quiet about what happens. Deny children truth and stunt their growth. I remember writing a report in 8th grade that I wanted to be an interior designer. I knew I would need home ec classes to do this. I signed up for home ec instead of Biology. As soon as my father found out he marched me down to school and changed my schedule. He felt science is what I needed to be doing. I was good at it. I liked it. But it wasn't the direction I wanted to grow. I buckled down in school and worked hard in math and science just as my parents expected. I married and quit school for a long time. When I returned, I obediently went back into engineering. I was very good but hated the classes. I just felt so strongly I needed my degree in anything. Over 10 years ago I applied for a job in the School of Art at the local university. They needed a computer tech, I needed a job that I could get a discount while taking classes for me and my kids. I figured it would be a great match. They didn't want to know about computers and I didn't want to know about art. Little did I know that this would be a life changing experience. For the first time in my life, I interacted with people that not only allowed me to grow they actively encouraged it. Imagine being required as part of my job to sit in on the Photography 101 class. The first day the professor declared that Photography is science mixed with magic. What a transformation this was for me. It was during my second Photography 101 class (I hadn't registered for the first one so I didn't have credit,) that the teacher assigned us to do a self portrait using pictures representing who we were. The assignment blew me away. I took three rolls of black and white film. One roll I had no idea where the pictures came from. I knew I didn't share my camera but there were all these pictures that didn't seem to belong to me - yet they did. Photography created the first dent in the shell I used to protect myself. Photography some how breached the gap between me and my alters. They liked using the camera too. I took the 8x10 prints and formed them into a mobius strip. For the next 10 years I worked with men and women that thrived on learning. Pushing me to grow in ways I never dreamed possible. They taught me that pre-visualization limited me to what I could think of. Where as, taking the camera in hand and following its lead I could expand my world to things I never been too. Photography became an integral part of becoming who I am today. Photos in my book We Are One are all mine. My use of the camera to liberate from the secret recesses of my mind my past forever altered me. The photos also helped me to make connections and process information. I held a photography show called Baseline that addressed my emotional reaction to having cancer. Photography lets me explore the world in ways that I never knew existed. I marvel at the delicate intricacies of tiny desert flowers, ooo and awe taking pictures of fireworks, chuckle when capturing grandkids at play, marvel at a beautiful world that was I always looked at but didn't see until I had a camera in my hand. It is only fitting that photos would document my integration. Joyfully photography still plays a major role in my life.
http://mediawebmonster.com/FavoriteQuotes/EncouragingWords/
widget 365 Days of Encouraging words.
Most puzzling to me is parents that in their own world demand that their children keep quiet about what happens. Deny children truth and stunt their growth. I remember writing a report in 8th grade that I wanted to be an interior designer. I knew I would need home ec classes to do this. I signed up for home ec instead of Biology. As soon as my father found out he marched me down to school and changed my schedule. He felt science is what I needed to be doing. I was good at it. I liked it. But it wasn't the direction I wanted to grow. I buckled down in school and worked hard in math and science just as my parents expected. I married and quit school for a long time. When I returned, I obediently went back into engineering. I was very good but hated the classes. I just felt so strongly I needed my degree in anything. Over 10 years ago I applied for a job in the School of Art at the local university. They needed a computer tech, I needed a job that I could get a discount while taking classes for me and my kids. I figured it would be a great match. They didn't want to know about computers and I didn't want to know about art. Little did I know that this would be a life changing experience. For the first time in my life, I interacted with people that not only allowed me to grow they actively encouraged it. Imagine being required as part of my job to sit in on the Photography 101 class. The first day the professor declared that Photography is science mixed with magic. What a transformation this was for me. It was during my second Photography 101 class (I hadn't registered for the first one so I didn't have credit,) that the teacher assigned us to do a self portrait using pictures representing who we were. The assignment blew me away. I took three rolls of black and white film. One roll I had no idea where the pictures came from. I knew I didn't share my camera but there were all these pictures that didn't seem to belong to me - yet they did. Photography created the first dent in the shell I used to protect myself. Photography some how breached the gap between me and my alters. They liked using the camera too. I took the 8x10 prints and formed them into a mobius strip. For the next 10 years I worked with men and women that thrived on learning. Pushing me to grow in ways I never dreamed possible. They taught me that pre-visualization limited me to what I could think of. Where as, taking the camera in hand and following its lead I could expand my world to things I never been too. Photography became an integral part of becoming who I am today. Photos in my book We Are One are all mine. My use of the camera to liberate from the secret recesses of my mind my past forever altered me. The photos also helped me to make connections and process information. I held a photography show called Baseline that addressed my emotional reaction to having cancer. Photography lets me explore the world in ways that I never knew existed. I marvel at the delicate intricacies of tiny desert flowers, ooo and awe taking pictures of fireworks, chuckle when capturing grandkids at play, marvel at a beautiful world that was I always looked at but didn't see until I had a camera in my hand. It is only fitting that photos would document my integration. Joyfully photography still plays a major role in my life.
Now on Facebook
http://apps.facebook.com/blognetworks/blog/we_are_one_834014
Thanks to those that helped out with verifying I am really who I say I am; I am now officially on facebook too. Two drawbacks they won't let you follow anonymously and you can use secure browsing. I am trying it out to see how it goes.
Have fun.
Thanks to those that helped out with verifying I am really who I say I am; I am now officially on facebook too. Two drawbacks they won't let you follow anonymously and you can use secure browsing. I am trying it out to see how it goes.
Have fun.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Learning
Personally I'm always ready to learn, although I do not always like being taught.
- Sir Winston Churchill
Today has gone to extremes. Last night I had horrendous nightmares. Emailing NewCounselor I expressed a need to not forget those that suffered with me in my past. He asked me if I was angry. My reaction was "No, I am just a little concerned." That is so not true. The nightmares allowed my unconscious mind to release just how extremely angry I feel. That truth thing. I am learning that I am still very angry about what happened to me and others at the hand of one deranged pedophile.
Then this evening I attended the first of 3 classes teaching True Colors a way to use colors and personality types to adjust teaching strategies. The teacher's opinion is that personalities don't change much. I was able to secretly disagree because I have learned with a huge amount of work, self analysis, and greater awareness you can make choices that changes yourself. I will agree it is not easy. The 5 hour class was awesome and I am looking forward to two more nights of class. I hope I sleep better tonight now that I have accepted I am still really angry.
- Sir Winston Churchill
Today has gone to extremes. Last night I had horrendous nightmares. Emailing NewCounselor I expressed a need to not forget those that suffered with me in my past. He asked me if I was angry. My reaction was "No, I am just a little concerned." That is so not true. The nightmares allowed my unconscious mind to release just how extremely angry I feel. That truth thing. I am learning that I am still very angry about what happened to me and others at the hand of one deranged pedophile.
Then this evening I attended the first of 3 classes teaching True Colors a way to use colors and personality types to adjust teaching strategies. The teacher's opinion is that personalities don't change much. I was able to secretly disagree because I have learned with a huge amount of work, self analysis, and greater awareness you can make choices that changes yourself. I will agree it is not easy. The 5 hour class was awesome and I am looking forward to two more nights of class. I hope I sleep better tonight now that I have accepted I am still really angry.
Forwarded email
Subject: My retirement
After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Target.
Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out.
Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse.
Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Target:
Dear Mrs. Jones,
Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Dubrowsky, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:
1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.
2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in House wares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money.
5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.
6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.
7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.
8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.
9.. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the 'Mission Impossible' theme.
12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.
13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'
14. October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'
15. Took a box of condoms to the checkout clerk and asked where is the fitting room?
And last, but not least:
16. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, and then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the clerks passed out.
Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out.
Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse.
Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Target:
Dear Mrs. Jones,
Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Dubrowsky, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:
1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.
2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in House wares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money.
5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.
6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.
7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.
8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.
9.. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the 'Mission Impossible' theme.
12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.
13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'
14. October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'
15. Took a box of condoms to the checkout clerk and asked where is the fitting room?
And last, but not least:
16. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, and then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the clerks passed out.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Ode to Home
Ah, Arizona!
The devil wanted a place on earth
Sort of a summer home
A place to spend his vacation
Whenever he wanted to roam.
So he picked out Arizona
A place both wretched and rough
Where the climate was to his liking
And the cowboys hardened and tough.
He dried up the streams in the canyons
And ordered no rain to fall
He dried up the lakes in the valleys
Then baked and scorched it all.
Then over his barren country
He transplanted shrubs from hell.
The cactus, thistle and prickly pear
The climate suited them well.
Now the home was much to his liking
But animal life, he had none.
So he created crawling creatures
That all mankind would shun.
First he made the rattlesnake
With it's forked poisonous tongue.
Taught it to strike and rattle
And how to swallow it's young.
Then he made scorpions and lizards
And the ugly old horned toad.
He placed spiders of every description
Under rocks by the side of the road.
Then he ordered the sun to shine hotter,
Hotter and hotter still.
Until even the cactus wilted
And the old horned lizard took ill.
Then he gazed on his earthly kingdom
As any creator would
He chuckled a little up his sleeve
And admitted that it was good.
Twas summer now and Satan lay
By a prickly pear to rest.
The sweat rolled off his swarthy brow
So he took off his coat and vest.
"By Golly, " he finally panted,
"I did my job too well,
I'm going back to where I came from,
Arizona is hotter than Hell. "
http://phoenix.about.com/cs/wacky/a/aharizona01.htm
Couldn't find the author but wanted to share one of my favorite poems about where I was born. Enjoy your day. :)
The devil wanted a place on earth
Sort of a summer home
A place to spend his vacation
Whenever he wanted to roam.
So he picked out Arizona
A place both wretched and rough
Where the climate was to his liking
And the cowboys hardened and tough.
He dried up the streams in the canyons
And ordered no rain to fall
He dried up the lakes in the valleys
Then baked and scorched it all.
Then over his barren country
He transplanted shrubs from hell.
The cactus, thistle and prickly pear
The climate suited them well.
Now the home was much to his liking
But animal life, he had none.
So he created crawling creatures
That all mankind would shun.
First he made the rattlesnake
With it's forked poisonous tongue.
Taught it to strike and rattle
And how to swallow it's young.
Then he made scorpions and lizards
And the ugly old horned toad.
He placed spiders of every description
Under rocks by the side of the road.
Then he ordered the sun to shine hotter,
Hotter and hotter still.
Until even the cactus wilted
And the old horned lizard took ill.
Then he gazed on his earthly kingdom
As any creator would
He chuckled a little up his sleeve
And admitted that it was good.
Twas summer now and Satan lay
By a prickly pear to rest.
The sweat rolled off his swarthy brow
So he took off his coat and vest.
"By Golly, " he finally panted,
"I did my job too well,
I'm going back to where I came from,
Arizona is hotter than Hell. "
http://phoenix.about.com/cs/wacky/a/aharizona01.htm
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