April 29, 2012
Positive Ouote
This is paraphrased.
Paul D. To Sethe: You know Sethe, we have too much of yesterday. We need more of tomorrow.
From Beloved by Toni Morrison
September 26, 2011
Merging Along
As I merge the world looks and seems different to me. I am more consciously myself than I have ever been. Movies that I have seen before have parts that I don’t remember. It makes me wonder what else I am blocking. Well, hopefully I will find out. I finally believe some of what I have been seeing and telling myself for years. The truths I must accept now are joyful and painful.
August 4, 2011
Excellent Article By Kim Pearson of Blog Her On Child Prostitution.
http://www.blogher.com/what-we-can-do-stop-child-prostitution-united-states?page=0,1
My biological mother prostituted my siblings and I and I always wondered why no one would help us and make it stop. This article has some ideas on how to start better protecting children.
April 7, 2011
SECRETS
I think I finally understand why elders do not want to tell the younger people in their families about the horrors of the abuse that went on in the past. Now it is my turn. I need to tell my son some family history and I find myself editing what I am going to say. I want him to live his own life and not carry the pain of the past with him. I want to protect him.
I really resented my family for not telling me about the past, but now I don’t know how to feel. After all, I think I’m old enough to hear anything, but do people who are old enough to be my parent think so? I do not want to keep secrets, but I don’t want to cause someone to hurt or agonize unnecessarily. Or maybe there is no way to protect the younger people in my family from the pain of what happened in the past. Damn!
April 6, 2011
Radical’s Writing (Works In Progress)
We were sitting in the living room. Her eyes sparkled as she opened her purse and pulled out a small spray bottle.
She said, “You’re gonna like this cologne.”
Quickly I moved away from her. ”No, thank you.”
She was smiling. “Come on. Give it a chance.”
I sighed. “Just because it smells good on you doesn’t mean everyone will like it”
“You won’t know about it until you try. It has such a fresh scent.” She seemed to be winking.
“No! I don’t want to. Don’t spray that stuff on me.”
“Would you stop being so stubborn?”
She reached out and pointed the cologne at my neck and as I got up to turn away I could taste the sickening scent on my tongue.
”Oops,” she said. “What do you think?”
March 25, 2011
CHOOSING PSYCHIATRISTS
In the twelve years that I have been medicated, I have only had two of six psychiatrists who behaved like normal decent people. One was a resident and the other an older woman who had been practicing for fifty years. The rest of them were manipulative and/or cruel and/or incompetent and/or weird. Now I have to find another one again and I don’t really trust my judgment.
The first psychiatrist I went to for evaluation of depression was terse and scowling. I saw him for only fifteen minutes for him to tell me he could not see me and needed to send me somewhere else. Why didn’t he just tell me that information on the phone? He ripped me off for $100. I felt angry and my kid parts were terrified.
The second seemed to be a sincere and competent woman, but her office was very far from where I lived.
The third psychiatrist was some kind of new wave Christian and I did not know that I had to agree with his religious beliefs in order to see him. When I told him that I was not interested in being proselytized, he screamed that if I were not a Christian I had to hit the road. I started crying. He watched silently and triumphantly never acknowledging what had just happened. Just like abusers. I backed down from what I was saying. I told my then therapist about him and she advised me not to go back to him. It is scary to say that at the time I probably would have gone back because I was so unsure about my own perceptions about everything. The psychiatrist acted as if there were something wrong with me and because he was the doctor and I was the person with DID or MPD back then; I figured he must be right, right? Wrong.
The fifth psychiatrist worked mostly with children and adolescents. My story of trauma and abuse scared her. I was seeing her at a time when I was struggling with a professor harassing me in school and threatening my degree and graduation. Number five moved to another office and never answered my phone calls. I became suicidal.
Luckily for me, my fourth psychiatrist who had retired came back into practice because she was bored. She was eighty-eight years old and ran her practice like a nosy grandmother in some ways. She was all up in my business. I kind of resented it, but she saved my life. She told me some unpleasant outcomes of suicide, and I was very angry with her, however it was just what I needed to hear at that time. I love her for being honest with me.
My seventh and current psychiatrist kind of creeps me out. He seems to be gliding across the floor instead of walking. He has never learned to pronounce my name correctly or help me deal with my ten year struggle with insomnia. I have tried for two weeks to get an appointment with him to no avail. Today I decided to try and just get a refill on my anti-depressant and was told that he could not give me a refill without an appointment! Ok. I think this will be my last appointment with him.
Wait a minute. The phone just rang and the doctor’s office called to say he left me some free antidepressant at the front desk. At least he is concerned. On the other hand, I cannot stop taking this particular drug abruptly or I will get deathly ill. It happened before when I tried to get off the drug on my own. Maybe he is just looking out for a malpractice suit. I think it is time to move on, but to where?
