Hurt...

So...

I have a Therapy Art Journal

More on this later when I can think

A Choice? Or a Lie I told myself so I could survive the Truth?

I wanted so much more...

I needed so much more.........

Current Mood: I feel everything and the Nothing all at once and I truly don't know why I did this...

Current Music: Screaming and silence... Dizzying, nauseating ringing in my ears as Alters come and go at will; their will, not mine

An update of sorts I guess...

A lot has been happening lately...

I have been doing my best to keep from drowning in all that is going on and to be honest, I am pretty impressed with myself. I am achieving what, quite frankly, should be impossible.

It has now been over six months since I last saw my youngest daughter. I am surviving this.

I am still here... I am still breathing... I am still me

I am far from okay... but I am here... and I look okay

I am approaching the end of my college studies; another long, hard fought battle... but once again... I am doing it

I have a partner. He is pretty wonderful in a lot of ways I never thought I would ever find. I still feel very alone; some of which is alone in our relationship, most of which is external to that. We are working on it.

I have been finding my way back to my music. It is a fragile beginning but I am feeling the stirrings of a wish to return to playing and learning once more, so I am following these urges as gently and as cautiously as I can... lest I scare them away

Artistically, I am in and out.

I have a hell of a lot going on though and I am not really in a place where it is safe emotionally, which means that being artistically blocked is not surprising... the fact I have been able to produce any art at all is nothing short of a miracle!

In general, I feel empty and lost. I am often suicidal but not acting on those thoughts and feelings.

On multiple occasions I have been put in unfair and/or unsafe situations and I have actually broken through the fear and the paralysis and stood up for myself. Previously, this has been unheard of in my life. I am proud of myself for this; intensely proud... and I deserve to be; I have worked incredibly hard to achieve this.

The results of having stood up for myself have varied but my resolve has not... Again, I am proud of myself for this.

I will be honest... I truly see no point to anything. This is not an existential crisis, this is reality.

I don't know where I go from here with any sense of purpose...

I'll keep moving forward of course; it's what I do... but one day I'd like to actually want to

A promise to Myself and to my other selves too

Today, I make this pact with Myself and with all of my other selves too...

I promise to do what I can to honour the capabilities and wishes of whichever self (or selves) that I am at any given moment in so far as it is possible...

I promise to try to learn to hear myself more clearly and to do what I can to increase my awareness of the presence of my selves and their needs (and to act on that information when I feel I can)

I will sometimes still need to push myself hard and even attempt to force the presence of other selves who are better equipped to handle certain situations... but... I promise to do this based on need rather than on whim or anger and frustration at being multiple...

We will do better; all of us together

Help Me!

Falling, screaming into the Abyss...

Frantically reaching up toward tendrils of something to help slow my descent... Tendrils made of nothingness that promised to be something but are not...

For the longest time I have held off reality by holding my breath... by carefully dissecting each and every excruciating element until emotion became lost in cold, uncompromising logic...

I only allowed the sunshine in... and even then, only for brief moments lest it light a dark corner and wake a wailing I could not lull back to sleep in time...

I fed hungrily on the sunlight I let in... It sustained me just enough to continue to hold it all in place... the terror... the altered reality... the excruciating pain... the Nothing... the Truth

Today I accidentally gasped...

And now I can't hold anything in place... the screaming inside is deafening and I cannot think... the emptiness drags me faster and faster down into the Abyss... the pain has me trying to crawl out of my skin... and the silence... and the night... and the.........

I hear wailing... I see an unfamiliar face in the mirror... I watch as thoughts race across my mind; bright flashing lights of panic... I try so hard not to give in to urges to run to old refuges  and mindlessness built on foundations of self-inflicted, controllable pain and torment...

The night ahead of me is so very long and quiet... As each moment ticks by, I watch my options for escaping this insanity dwindle as sleep claims those I would reach out to... if only my shame would let me...

My screams are never louder than they are in this last defining moment... There is a frantic edge that demands my attention and I cannot tear my eyes away from the two futures I must now choose from... because this limbo is unsustainable; it cannot last

I want to hold on...

It seemed so easy when I was lifeless; when I couldn't feel...

But all I can do is feel right now and I would do anything; pay any price... just to make it stop!

... or to at least not have to endure it alone

I am so cold... I am in agony... I have nowhere to run...

I am alone

My weekend...

It is with a very full and grateful heart that I sit here journaling tonight...

This weekend has felt like a very long one, full of ups and downs...

I continue to struggle to survive the loss of my youngest daughter...

My Boy continues to love me... We made love and stayed in bed and touched and kissed and slept on and off most of the day today... As he left to go home this afternoon, I struggled to blink back tears; my world feels so empty without him by my side... I struggled to blink back tears again as we said 'goodnight' over the telephone tonight...

A lot of my time is spent trying to blink back tears these days... or at least in the days since Claire left

Last night the Boy and I made Art together... I love making Art with him... We also played an impromptu game of chasey at the park across the road while he caught Pokemon...

I also had the chance to chat to the man who is looking after the girls while their father is on a business trip to Sweden... I'm still not happy that my children are not both with me rather than with their father's brother's brother in law (yup, quite a reach on the definition of family there) but from the impression I got over the phone, this guy probably treats them better and looks after them better than their own father, so I am hoping for the best...

I am learning to breathe my way through the anxiety I have about my relationship with the Boy...

Or perhaps, more to the point, I am learning that breathing through my anxiety about my relationship with the Boy is worth it... He continues to open up bit by bit and more recently, he seems to have begun incorporating Me into his life too...

I have hope... and right now that is a precious thing indeed

I also have Sarah; my eldest daughter... She has come so far and through so much... I am incredibly proud of her... She is now only months away from turning 18... I am watching her begin to grow restless, counting down the months and the days until her legal adulthood and independence... I am doing what I can to instil a sense of confidence in her and about a million last minute lessons (now that she is finally able to see past her own trauma and can process and integrate them)... And I am letting her go... She will always be a part of my heart but it is almost time for her to choose when she wants to hold my hand, rather than me holding her hand and leading her...

It is a deep but clean grief... My little girl is becoming a woman now... Well, it is a little more complicated than that... but it is almost time for me to stand back and watch who she becomes... In some ways I am ready... I only hope that she is too

I think I will leave this entry here tonight... I have more to write about but I am tired and there is nothing pressing left that can't wait until another day...

I like that tonight's entry has not been as heavy as most of my entries have been these past years... Maybe I am finding my way back here successfully after all... Just another reason to be proud of myself and something else to be grateful for I guess...

Goodnight x

A new dawn approaches at last...

We spent the night together at his house last night; the Boy and I...

Something changed again... in a good way

He seemed to be much more communicative... I'm not sure why... All I know is that I am incredibly grateful and it has resulted in my fragile little flicker of hope being fanned into a small flame that I hope will grow brighter and more stable over time

I am so glad that I chose to make the hard decisions even when the world felt so cold and dark and hopeless and lonely... and I had wanted to run so badly

I am grateful to my two Mums (my actual Mum and her partner) for visiting when they did and for providing me a safe place to talk about everything that was on my mind and driving me crazy...

I am proud of myself and grateful to myself for choosing, once again, not to go back to work...

This relationship is both the safest and the scariest relationship I have ever had... It is real... on every level... and I can't control it no matter how hard my instincts kick in... of that I am terrified... and for that I am grateful

There really just might be real hope and a Life left for Me in this world after all

I watch... and I wait... and I cautiously put one foot in front of the other... and... I move forward into a very different, very real future

About the 'Boy'...

So, maybe I should really introduce the 'Boy'...

I wish I could post a photograph of him and I together but out of respect for his privacy, I'm posting this drawing I did for him instead... I had asked him for an Art directive and this is what came out of his 'Create a dragon for me' directive...

This image probably says a whole lot more about how I am feeling than I would like to look at right now... but again, it is honest, and I am striving to stop constantly writing 'there is so much I wish I could say' in this journal... so here it is... open... honest... painfully raw

The Boy himself is genuine and sweet and caring and so incredibly gentle... and even though we have been together for a relatively short time; certainly too short a time for me to be able to say 'I love you' based on surface knowledge of him, I can (and do) say 'I love you' based, in part, on who I know him to be on surface knowledge, but in an even larger part on the essence of who I can feel he is at his core...

Gosh, I wish I could find the words to describe what I am feeling!

A prime example of what I am talking about, which may only ever make sense to me, I don't know, is...

We were chatting in bed one afternoon just before he was about to leave to go home and I mentioned something about sex in which I referred to sex as 'naughty'... I remember him looking me directly in the eyes and saying 'It's not naughty, it's perfectly natural'... I can still feel the impact of those words and of how gentle but genuine and matter of fact he was...

My breath caught in my throat and held for the longest time... I couldn't move... I couldn't look away... I was mesmerised... It was as though the whole world stopped spinning on its axis and time stood completely still...

I felt clean...

The way he looked at me made me feel like he could see through everything I had been through, and past that right to the very core of who I am and that I was safe and accepted and, most of all, seen exactly as I am...

I love that the Boy is a writer too... and an Artist... I love that he craves being creative, the same way that I do.

I love his sense of humour. I love his gentleness of spirit. I love that he loves wearing three piece suits and that even when he dresses casually, he likes to wear a collar and never looks scruffy; he takes pride in his appearance. I love that he treats people with respect and that he quietly and assertively stands his ground and stands up for what he thinks is right.

I love how gently he touches me. I love how gently he speaks to me. I love that he doesn't seem to feel the need to swear. I love that he takes his time and does things at his own pace. I love how he idly touches my skin and that, just like my own inclination (to do the same with him), it is an act of intimacy, rather than a prelude to sex. I love that he makes sex feel truly like making love, because that is what it actually is with him.

I love his smile. I love his quiet little chuckle. I love how beautiful his hands are. I love that we fall asleep holding one another and that we often alternate positions like that in our sleep all night long. I love that holding hands is special to him. I love that he is so traditional and old fashioned in certain ways. I love his gallantry.

I love that sometimes I see him (but he doesn't know that I see him) watching me and that there is a small smile on his lips that reaches his eyes... a look of love and gentle pride

I wish he would share more of his thoughts and feelings with me. I like that I am learning to wait and that I cannot confidently read him at a glance, the way I can with so many people. It frightens me too because I am unable to pre-empt what he wants and what he will like or dislike.

I am not used to having to be spontaneous like this.

I have lived most of my life 'surviving' by being able to pre-empt and meet the needs and wants of the people in my life; particularly past partners. To be honest, I am finding his unpredictability and how unreadable he can be, terrifying... but I am also feeling more connected to him than I have to any other partner I have ever had, and in ways that were impossible until now directly because of this very concept.

When this Boy loves me, it is for reasons beyond my control.

When he is not communicating with me though, it is so much more devastating because I have no way of knowing if I have displeased him, if he is simply taking time for himself, if he is waiting for me to get in touch with him, if there is some need I am not meeting that maybe I should be...

I don't know...

I feel frantic... I feel lost and alone... I feel invisible... I feel as though I have maybe even ceased to exist for him...

My object constancy is not great right now...

I honestly never believed my daughter would betray me the way she has or that I would lose her the way I have... At the very core of my insecurity is the sense that no-one and nothing in this world belongs to me... not even my own body, nor the children I gave birth to from that body

I feel powerless...

I feel empty...

I feel alone...

I believe that if I were not going through all of this with my daughter right now, my feelings of insecurity regarding my relationship with the Boy would be so much less intense.

I know for a fact that I am distracting myself by focussing more on these issues in our relationship than on anything going on with my daughter. I am doing this to survive. It brings me an intermittent relief of sorts but the more attached to him I become, each and every time my insecurity around my relationship with him is triggered, the pain of what is currently happening with my daughter is being brought dangerously closer.

I want desperately to run away but even more desperately, I want to stay and to see where this relationship could lead...

I do love him...

And it is worth it... even if it all blows up in my face... it will still have been worth it

... because for the first time ever in my life, I am not in control of it... and that makes it real

I'm TRYING!!!!

I'm trying...

I'm trying so hard to say what I really think and feel in here; all of it...

How do I do that when so much hangs in the balance so much of the time? And when there is so much information I simply do not have? Or when a perception I have one moment may be so completely altered by Alters the next?

God damn it! I feel so frustrated!

I want to rant about coming second to literally every other activity my current partner could be doing... but this relationship is relatively new and he is a 42 year old online gamer (who has never been married or had any children) who has been single for two years and whose last relationship was an online trans-continent longterm one which he seemed quite happy with... I wish I could speak with some of his past girlfriends so that I could work out if this is his personality or if this is symptomatic of 'he's just not that into you'.

So yeah, I want to say that it hurts like hell and that I want to take back a whole lot of sacrifices and promises I have made (like not going back to work) but what point would that serve, when I could be completely wrong... and when the very next time I see him, I am going to be blindsided by his beautiful boyish heart and his expression of real world feelings that will either leave me resolved to continue in this state of sacrifice and waiting again or leave me even more confused as to what to do because of the mixed messages I keep getting from him...

He is so very close to being perfect for me...

It makes me sad that I spend every day grateful that he has not proposed marriage because I would find myself saying 'yes' for so many reasons but (if nothing changes), living miserably ever after... It makes no sense to me because I never want to get married again... ever! Yet the core of who he is, draws me irresistibly toward him... and I find myself craving being tied to him in this way and even making a life and a family with him (despite no longer being able to have children)...

What I really want is to sit down with him and to talk with him about all of this in such a way that I am asking questions about who he is and what he wants but I am constantly so close to tears over this that I am no longer in a position to be able to do that without it becoming a 'thing'...

I honestly don't want (and cannot feel secure in) anything that does not truly belong to me... Not being able to hold back tears would put an emotional weight on the questions, which would make it impossible for me to know whether he was feeling pressured and compromising or whether he was expressing his true wishes...

I wouldn't know how to trust an answer like that...

So where to from here?

Suffering in silence isn't sustainable...

Leaving the relationship is both not something I want to do at all and I am certainly not anywhere near ready to anyway... It would be outright stupidity, particularly as we have not even sat down and chatted about any of these potentially easily fixable issues.

Repressing all of this hurt and anger is seriously damaging me though... I need to find my way back... to a lot of things... including my confidence and a feeling of equilibrium... I am dying

I want this to work... The way things currently are, this is not working... How do I create an environment in which I can have this conversation without bursting in to tears?! And being that he seems happy with the way things are, he's not going to bring it up... Only I have the power to say something that might potentially initiate a shift that could make this a relationship that could work for both of us.

Why does everything have to be so bloody hard?! :'(

And why does even this entry feel forced and trite?! *screams in frustration*

Ah, I know what it is... the deepest truth in all of this is missing; my real fear

I am afraid that the only time I am (in his mind) worthy of his full attention, is when I am something he can show off to other people as a sign of his idea of success in life or when he is needing an ego boost or wanting physical affection... I am afraid that I am little more than an amusing vehicle through which his needs can be fulfilled but who is not worthy of worship and being wanted in her own right.

It is a theme that runs so very intensely throughout my life... Usable but not truly wanted... As a mother... as a wife... as a lover... as a person

Is this all I am to him? (whether he is consciously aware of it or not)

When he said (in reference to something that had nothing to do with relationships) 'I like a bit of it but too much is a turn off'... was that also true of everything in his life??? Is that how he feels about Me too???

This entry is no longer trite and forced... It is, however, now excruciatingly honest and I am in far too much pain already to be able to sit with this question hanging over my head for very much longer

Do I deflect and distract? Or do I take aim and fire the shot that could potentially (fix or) end it all???

I just do not know...

Update...

Once again, so much time has passed since I wrote in here regularly...

Lifetimes upon lifetimes have been lived... and here I stand... still alive... still screaming... and even more unbreakable than ever...

I look at these words and they sound so trite as I read them back to myself...

Such pretty words bely how horrific and how joyous this past year (and the year before that) has been...

Why is it that I feel so stuck tonight? There is so much I want to say, yet I remain, apparently, mute...

There is always so much I want to say...

I wonder what would happen if, instead of saying, 'there is so much I want to say', I actually said what I wanted to say... Could I actually do that? Could I really stop skirting around the issues and find the courage to finally come out and say precisely what I want to say???

Maybe, after over ten years of journaling online, I am finally ready to do just that...

Maybe it is time.........

The question now is: What do I want to say in here tonight???

I think I will try starting light...

I am brunette again

This photograph is recent but since then I have cut myself a fringe again and I have put a purple rinse through my hair too.

I like being brunette right now. I think that there is every chance that this change came just in time to save my sanity. I didn't know that I was going to lose my youngest daughter. I do know that I feel stronger and that I can channel the angrier parts of myself (which keep me safe because the anger deflects from the excruciating pain underneath the anger) and that being able to do this and being able to hold this position indefinitely, well... it is very likely, literally saving my life.

I do not know for how much longer I will remain brunette... I am not ready to be blonde again just yet though... I will trust my gut and I will wait.

This entry is frustrating me. I want to end it and begin again. I don't know if that will be tonight or another day... but I will be back... and I will keep coming back until I have finally said all that I want to say.

I am afraid... but I am also ready

It really is time...

I am her Mother...

It is the dead of night...

The whole world is asleep and once more, my demons loom large and menacing

So much hangs in the balance...

So much depends on my being able to breathe my way, once more, through the madness... through the desire to bring about the end of the world... through demands for blood and vengeance of the screaming, clawing banshee inside of me

The 'Nothing' beckons... promising a peace that transcends the chaos inside of me... a peace in which there exists a silence that drowns out the 'Everything' that is Life

It is silent in the world outside of my mind, save the chortling of night birds, whose song promises a sunrise that never comes.

I feel rage stirring inside of me.

For the first time in all of the years I have been listening to them, I wish them gone. Their madness does not bring me comfort tonight. No, tonight they are mocking me and I want to blow them up from the inside with my thoughts.

I want to bring the silence!

In the back of my mind, I hear the ticking of an imaginary clock...

*tick*            *tock*    *tick*            *tock*              *tick*            *tock*     *tick* *tock*

       *tick*            *tock*         *tick*            *tock*  *tick*              *tock* *tick*                *tock*

  *tick*         *tock*        *tick*           *tock*                 *tick*                  *tock*  *tick*            *tock*  

*tick*            *tock*              *tick*            *tock*     *tick* *tock*       *tick*            *tock*        

*tick*            *tock*                 *tick*            *tock*        *tick*                *tock*

                 *tick*                                             *tock*

Relentlessly, it counts out the seconds... the minutes... the hours... the days... the months...

How long have I been holding my breath for now?

How long has it been since I last saw my daughter? Heard her laugh? Touched her skin? Whispered 'I love you forever' to her in the middle of the night?

The writhing inside becomes more frantic as, incredulously, I wonder how this situation could possibly even have come to be...

Desperate plans form and then dissipate like mist as I pick them apart, looking for flaws and imperfections...

I will find a way...

I will bring her back to me...

But it will not be tonight... or tomorrow either

The pain is unbearable...

A mother's heart; ripped mercilessly apart by vultures...

A child sits among the torn fibres......... smiling??? playing in her mother's blood???

The most painful question... the only one which truly has the power to tear apart the last soft and trusting parts of me...

Is my daughter a heartless sociopath, feeding on my pain?

And there it is... the end

For how much longer I will be able to hold my breath... to calm the insanity... to wait out this hell in deep and measured silence... I honestly do not know...

The pain, I will endure... I will survive it whether I want to or not; I know this is true...

But will I slay the beast? Will I sever the necrotic limb? Will I cut off its head and bury it in the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind?

Or...

Will I continue to love and nurse it back to health, watching it devour me until I simply am no longer?

The answer seems simple... but this is my child

This screaming, clawing, seemingly soul-less, cold, destructive mess... is... my... daughter

... And I am her Mother

There is no coming back from that...

I... am... her... Mother.

Coming home again...

I have wanted to return to this blog for the longest time...

So much has happened

I am not quite ready to write properly in here yet... but very soon, I will come home.

I am just hoping that putting up this almost pointless entry helps me to 'break the ice'...

If you believe, then please pray for me... I certainly need it x

Happy 16th Birthday, Sarah...

It is almost 5:30am and I cannot sleep...

All night I have been fighting a deep fear that this may be the birthday I lose my beloved daughter... There is just something about her reaction to this milestone and all that has come before, along with a deep sadness and loneliness she has...

I just desperately want today to be over...

Happily... Safely... Life-affirmingly...

O.V.E.R...

Not lost on me are also the parallels between my daughter's life and fairytales of old...

Please let her just get through this day! And please let it surprise her by being a wonderful experience...

I love you so much, Sarah; more than you could possibly understand just yet... I love you and I am here for you no matter what...

... And I will ALWAYS love you.

Happy Birthday, My precious, sweet Girl... All My Love, Mummy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx <3

... I miss him :'(

Tonight I wanted to call L***...

I wanted to be held and touched gently again... To hear his soothing, hypnotic voice... To explore his dark and mysterious, yet devastatingly familiar mind...

I miss him...

I don't miss the attempts at manipulation or the lies...

I don't miss the guilt that never truly was mine in the first place... and yet I was expected to bear it and to do so in compliant, subservient silence... and to thank them both for the privilege...

I don't miss the nightmares made real in the middle of countless nights, spent in a strange bed... swallowing screams... blinking back tears... pretending for both of us that I was okay when we both knew I wasn't...

My earlier pleas for abstinence lay ignored and discarded on the floor... right next to the clothes I had never really wanted to shed...

The sickly sweet stench of aftershave and deodorant, taking the place of the scent of soap and fresh water I wished had been there instead; covering a multitude of sins...

Rough hands and... eventually... an even rougher cock... tearing involuntary orgasms from my body; orgasms I both desperately cried out for inside in an attempt to escape the reality of what was truly happening... and which also left me wracked with guilt... drenched in shame and humiliation... swallowing a mixture of bile and vomit as the events replayed themselves over and over and over again in my mind...

No, I don't miss any of that...

And yet I miss him...

How can that be?!

How can it be that I miss someone who could hurt me so badly... so selfishly... so easily???

The shame I feel over this tonight weighs heavily upon me...

My breathing is laboured... as though his stocky, heavy body had collapsed on top of me in post-orgasmic bliss once more... I feel him on me and inside me again... yet he is not here; nowhere near here in fact...

I am so tired... and I am so awake

I can't turn off the television because my thoughts and compulsions are too loud... even now, I am afraid I will call him...

I can't turn off the lights for there are simply too many demons; both 'real' and imagined, hiding in the darkness and in the shadows, just waiting for the light to vanish... at which point they will come out and attempt to consume my sanity... if not my very soul

I have to be up for college in the morning in under 6 hours; not nearly long enough to sleep the emotional exhaustion of this one episode alone, off...

There are so many things I am dealing with right now... far too many in fact...

I have no idea of how I am going to make it through all of this...

And yes... once more, despite all of these beautiful yet tragic words, you would be correct in guessing that no, this is not even the tip of the iceberg... not on this one tiny subject... nor on everything that actually is going on in my life right now...

God damn it! ... and me too :'(

Despite having publicly owned my shame... Despite knowing a million reasons why I shouldn't... I have Alters who are trapped... 'We' still miss him... and I feel as though I would do almost anything to...

... be held and touched gently (by him) again... To hear his soothing, hypnotic voice... To explore his dark and mysterious, yet devastatingly familiar mind...

To rest in him...

... because I miss him <3 x :'(

Fallout...

Uh-oh...

Here we go again.........

:'(


Backlash against so much internal soul-searching and upheaval is coming thick and fast right now...

I have coping mechanisms designed to keep me safe and writing is one of them...

I am just hoping that I will be in a position (by morning) to be able to make the right decisions I need to make regarding my mental health and refusing to be forced (by 'those inside') to retreat from this lifelong dream...

I honestly cannot pin down what it is that has me suddenly so deeply destabilised that I cannot predict or contain this outpouring of franticness and internal screaming... Mentally, I am incredibly fatigued and I am yet to even begin, let alone complete, so much of the work ahead of me... And physically, my pain is spiking so badly, I am finding sleep almost impossible (I get 5-20 minutes here and there when I have a flare up), I have come down with a chest infection (which I have almost recovered from thanks to having hit it with steroids and antibiotics at the first sign of it) and one night last week, I couldn't even keep my eyes still and focused; they were flickering back and forth as though they were watching a fast paced tennis match ON FAST FORWARD!

I have come to the point where I have dissociated so badly that I can no longer remember what the point of voluntarily putting myself through all of this is... Yes, I want to spread healing through the gentleness of Art Therapy... Yes, I want to finally 'become something' relevant and useful and to be able to financially provide for myself... But at what cost?

Do I have the intelligence for this? Absolutely! Can I complete most of these exercises standing on my head, blindfolded, with both hands behind my back? You bet your butt I can! Do I have ANY confidence issues whatsoever that I can actually BE an Art Therapist? NO WAY!

But is this all moving too fast for me right now? Do I need more time to assimilate these massive changes in my life? Do I need time to adjust and to allow 'everyone inside' to catch up? YES!

Do I have the luxury of that time? No :(

So where do I go from here? Is it just a matter of hanging on until Thursday when I will be flying out of Adelaide for a few days, perhaps toward rest and quiet study and contemplation... or perhaps from one 'frying pan' into an even 'hotter frying pan'??? Will I be okay after some rest? Do the study modules get emotionally easier from here on in? Should I be switching to the 2 year course? And would that really be any better or easier to handle with its 4 day straight intensives???

So many questions... so much dissociation and internal upheaval... so very little pain free time today... and so little sleep tonight so far... (It is after 3:30am after all)

I know that the middle of the night under these conditions is not the right time to be making big decisions... And no doubt, I will switch out again through necessity sooner or later and wonder what all of the fuss was about... and I will feel the shame of having been so stressed over 'nothing'... (and having blurted all of those thoughts out here in the middle of the night)... But I needed to scream out into the ether where I knew that everyone would be (or should be) asleep but where there was the slimmest chance that someone 'might' hear me (even if they didn't respond)...

It is how I survive...

I scream... I am (potentially) heard... I fix and take responsibility for myself...

I fear 'attention' and pity because they are not what I seek... I seek a safe place, outside of a mind with perceptions I am aware I may not currently be able to trust... And if I can see my thoughts here, where 'someone' might see them... and those thoughts still seem lucid... then maybe I will be okay and able to get through all of this after all...

God! I doubt I am even making sense to anyone but myself anymore...

Anyway... whether anyone reads this or not... Here is something else I have written in an effort to clarify my thoughts and to vent my stress in the hope of regaining control of a more lucid state of mind...


The Madness Returns - by Charli Hope

The rain washes the dust from my madness tonight
Refreshed… revitalised… reawakened… it returns
Threatening all I have worked so hard to uphold
Truths… Hope… Love… Dreams… and that for which my heart yearns

The words of years past, tumble down over me now
Falling… Haplessly... carelessly... abandoned... and raw
And I no longer know where I want or choose to be
But it's not even just that simple… oh noooo, there is more!

Do I dance frenzied and naked, in the cleansing Blood Rain...
Rejoicing in its Life? In its Death? In its purge?
Or do I sit out this storm here in stifled blackened silence
Awaiting a dawn that only prolongs the urge?

So, tell me… Where is my relief? My promised salvation?
The point of still fighting this fight?
Because if the truth is that this is all there really is
I'll be damned... before I'll see out another night!

Are my screams really so deafening that you no longer hear me?
Or have you simply turned your eyes and ears away?
Away from my pain… from my shame… and from yours
Have you turned away despite promising you'd stay?

And how do I scream above a thousand other voices?
How do I scream loud enough to make myself heard?
And this pain in my bones… in my heart… in my head
All that is left of me now is the screaming… and these words

How do I make it all stop and live a life that is real?
When I can't stop trying to outrun the pain?
When I can't close my eyes and sleep peacefully at night
In case, in my sleep, it happens again

So… please, I'm begging you! Tell me!
When there are neither answers, nor is there a cure
From what might I craft myself an anchor to this world?
For exactly what, might I fight to endure?

It has been a while...

I have been away from here for a long time because I wasn't coping with how much of my pain I was seeing pouring out here, in the absence of the recording of the moments of happiness and wholeness I was also experiencing at the same time...

There were also aspects of privacy and switching (it's frightening, sitting down to write and suddenly seeing the thoughts and feelings of an Alter appearing before you, divulging rheems and rheems of information on how 'you' are apparently feeling and what 'you' are apparently thinking, all of which you had no clue about until you just now read it for yourself!) which were considerations but for the most part, I just needed to walk away until I could find a way to begin recording more balanced entries...

So... here I am again... And I have something new for you:

(A cross post from my personal Facebook page)

This Transpersonal Art Therapy qualification I am studying for is quite a fascinating journey...

The course itself seems to be focused on an internal examination of the self and emotional growth at the same time as focussing on learning the skills, techniques and ethics required of a therapist. (I don't know whether or not any small business modules are covered toward the end or not but I suspect it will at least be touched on).

As you can imagine, for the most part, it is a deeply personal journey and as such, anything shared by my lecturers and classmates will be kept completely confidential.

I, however, have decided to share parts of my own journey through this course with you all, as aside from keeping some of you (that I don't get to catch up with much) up to date on where I'm at and what I'm up to, I am hoping it will help to keep me clear and focused and maybe even help someone else in the process...

So, I guess... without further ado...

This is a photo I took during an Art Therapy session I had where I was an actual official client...
I was really struggling on Tuesday and in this session, my Art Therapist (after I revealed that I was really not coping with the internal war between Alters AND was willing to disclose this kind of information) asked me gently, if I might like to perhaps introduce her to what life inside looks like to me...

She had a sand tray and a whole bunch of random little toys and bits and pieces and invited me to arrange the sand and pieces as I wished...

To be honest, I was already in such internal meltdown that touching anything at all that wasn't sterile and belonging to me, felt terrifying... She continued to be gentle and patient and fostered an atmosphere of calm and containment (which helped immensely!) and she even offered the possibility of a different activity if I was too distressed to participate in this activity just now...

I was determined to go through with the process that had been offered to me though and when she asked if I wanted to try wet sand instead (as I had revealed that deserts have always terrified me, even in cartoons, ever since I was a child), I agreed and found myself gingerly reaching out and bit by bit, beginning to move the sand around...

I remember initially looking at all of the bits and pieces and this small sand tray and wondering how on earth I was ever going to fit 'everyone inside' into such a small space and I also remember scanning the room for more suitable objects to place in the tray as surely her collection couldn't be anywhere near enough!

What actually happened though, when it came time to put the pieces into the sand landscape I had created, surprised and delighted me!

I found that instead of the crowded chaos I was experiencing inside, everything suddenly became almost desserted and silent, for the first time in literally years!!!! And I watched myself, place only three objects in the sand; a star, a tree and a treasure chest...

The star is the Sun who appears in so many of my drawings... My Hope, my Creativity, my purest, unafraid Love and all of my most Childlike Happiness...

The tree is the Hypnotic Tree which appears in so many of my drawings... It is a representation of where I go when I need to disappear and 'switch out' and on this day, it was where most of my Alters went to watch this new Therapist from a safe distance...

And the Treasure Chest... This day it was where all of my most Artistic Alters went to wait to be discovered as 'buried (but not completely buried) treasure'...

I was frustrated that I was unable to place the 'Sun' up in the sky, quite literally and metaphorically 'above it all' and 'a part of it all', yet still apart from 'the Others' and their fear and excitement and chaos...

The Hypnotic Tree, I placed atop a Hill, located deep in a Valley... The depth of the valley came from how deep 'the Abyss' is inside where all of my Alters exist but the Hypnotic Tree had to be placed on a Hill inside of that Valley because although it never reaches anywhere near the surface, the Hypnotic Tree is a neutral zone of sorts where Alters seem to go to 'transition' or 'switch out'...

The Treasure Chest, I partially buried but much deeper down because there are parts of Me in there that even I, as yet, have not consciously 'met'... I have a deep sense that they have 'been out' before but their experiences in the real world are still blocked by a wall of amnesia for me... The message I was getting from inside was a feeling that these Alters would not embarrass me (as I often so greatly fear) but that they would shine and equip me with the skills (I already have buried as each Alter is a part of the 'Real Me') I need to become all I dream of and more as both an Artist and as an Art Therapist... I got the reassuring feeling of containment and of the gradual assimilation of 'their' skill sets in a very non-jarring and integrated way... Like having teachers on the inside... And that unlike so many of the specialised skills particular Alters have, which disappear as the Alter 'switches back in', I would actually have re-learned these skills bit by bit and that they would now belong to me too and be something I could trust in and rely on, even though the Alters themselves had not integrated yet (if ever)...

The whole experience left me feeling so deeply peaceful and 'whole' even in my fragmentation... I felt happy and serene... It was a precious moment of relief when I needed it the most... And I did it ALL BY MYSELF! AND it happened INSTINCTIVELY... For the first time in a very long time, I didn't have to force a single thing :)

My Therapist made no comment indicating failure or success... She simply smiled at my relief and joy, let me babble about what it all meant to me (as she could see that I needed to say it all out loud to solidify it and to comprehend it all myself) and told me at the end of the session that she was happy for my happiness...

From what I understand of the word 'Transpersonal' as it is applied in this form of therapy, it means that there is an understanding that all of the answers a client needs already exist within the client and that as a Transpersonal Art Therapist it will be my job to provide a safe environment and guided activities within which my client has the opportunity to explore themselves and to find these answers... and potentially even ultimate healing and catharsis.

Even though I babbled a lot about my fears and anxieties in the beginning of that session, (I honestly couldn't help it as I was so distressed at the time), there was no need for me to have done so in this type of session. In fact, my Therapist didn't need to know even what kind of problem I was dealing with; only a simple goal: 'What would you like to achieve in this session?'

That is what I LOVE about this style if therapy... It EMPOWERS the client and steers away from all of the confusion of words and motive and direct thoughts... Through it's simplicity, it reaches past all of that and touches what is called the 'Felt Self'... It is so simple and innocent and core...

I have to wonder... In a world where intelligence (both intellect and emotional) is so highly sought after and valued, why is it that those with the highest levels of attainment of these seem the most conflicted and unhappy? Yet those in society who appear the happiest, are the children (and those who 'stay childlike' inside even as adults)...

Could our ultimate answer lay in the purity of simplicity? And is this why so many eastern religions/beliefs are so sucessful in helping their followers achieve the inner peace we are all striving for?

If I can just stay focused on this idea of simplicity... And if I can stay present enough to refocus when I lose my way... I really AM going to be okay; both in this course AND in the world outside...

Love and Hope to you all,
The Amethyst Butterfly <3 x

Attraction and compulsion...

I have just spent the last hour and a half or so, in my car, finishing reading one of my 'Emily Strange' books, instead of clearing out junk and organising my House the way I should have been...

What is with that anyway???

Why am I so obsessed by organising and reorganizing it all? What's so darned important??? particularly as I have managed to completely organize everything before only to have then felt so freaked out that I deliberately messed it all up so that I could reorganize it... again!

I really don't get it...

I mean, it gets in the way of sooooooooo much I need and want to do... I want to LIVE my Life...

And yet, I cannot deny... not even a little bit... that organising and de-cluttering literally thrills Me somewhere deep down inside...

I remember that being something I was deeply attracted to about the idea (and the actuality) of spending time with Ben at his house when we were together...

Everything inside of my mind just went quiet when I was there... Each and every one of his million-gazillion-billion comics and books, which could have been so incredibly overwhelming, were instead, organised to pathological perfection...

Even now, I get a tingly shiver run down my spine, just remembering...

And Rob had/has so few personal items and was/is so into controlled minimalism that I couldn't help but be drawn to him on that level...

Darren, on the other hand lived in such an out of control, chaotic, filthy house that the potential for drastic change and improvement overrode my horror and repulsion at the idea of anyone living in such a place... Even his lifestyle was screaming for an organizational overhaul (which he begged me to help him with; I'd NEVER try to enforce my belief systems and values on another like that)... And until I saw that he was essentially, not incapable but instead, simply too lazy to bother keeping up with even the most basic of maintenance, and on top of that, was taking me for granted and slagging me off to all of our friends behind my back, I was a Happy of sorts...

Interestingly, Peter never really rated on any of these scales... He was messy and a mild hoarder and expected me to mindlessly pick up after him... He had a very 'entitled' attitude, which had nothing whatsoever to do with BDSM practices...

Although... mentally... inside of my own mind, he created massive messes that I almost lost my mind trying to untangle, categorize, neutralise, and store away in boxes never to be touched again... So perhaps he was not quite a complete dead-loss in the attraction-as-the-result-of-this-unhealthy-obsession-with-organisation that I have...

That does not explain my ex-husband, Andrew, though...

Or maybe it does...

Maybe our complete incompatibility (he was a hoarder and I was not) on this level was a part of what was driving me crazy...

Steve, while not what could really be defined as a 'relationship' exactly, I found attractive in a way because while he still had 'stuff' (but not to point of hoarding), it was interesting personal stuff... and he was still able have that stuff and to maintain a stylish minimalism... Our relationship was never really more than a friendship that occasionally (via mutual agreement) 'crossed the line'... but I liked it; it was simple and honest...

L and S, on this level, I was drawn to in this way because, while both are hoarders, L was chronic and S was a strange mix of unpredictably minimalist and hoarder all at once (something I find psychologically fascinating)...

Either way, they asked for my help and before I could clearly see that I was being used and taken for granted in damaging ways in that unconventional relationship, the prospect and actualisation of beginning that gargantuan task, again, thrilled me in ways that seem a little too intense to be either natural or healthy...

I am sure there is more unpacking of this subject that I need to do, in order to free myself of the detrimental side of my compulsion... but that is going to have to wait for a bit as I have already spent more time than I had planned on, just reading in my car and then writing this entry...

Or maybe I actually should just keep doing what I want to do instead of what I feel compelled to do; I don't know...

Possible title for next entry: Hoarding and D.I.D. - IS it actually hoarding at all???

Anyway, catch ya!

Hell...

Nights have become a nightmare in and of themselves...

I either no longer sleep... Or I do sleep... And when I sleep, I sleep deeply... I dream

This is no life...

This is Hell

On going insane... by never having been saner

Tonight, I lost my mind...

By seeing things so very sanely and clearly... Clearer than ever before, in fact... 

And it was excruciating!

There is no longer any doubt in my mind that I need to 'be in Hospital' if there were a hospital that could or would actually help, instead of simply medicating me out of my mind, against my will... I would say 'making things worse' except at this point, it really wouldn't... I honestly am at a point where that part of hospitalisation would be nothing more than another pointless drop in an endless ocean... of pain... of suffocation... of being trapped... of betrayal

And then this happened...

Endless War

*taunts in a relentlessly, lilting, mocking, hypnotic voice*

It's zombie time, Little Girl

It's zombie time...

Go, on, give it a whirl!

*hands her the bottle of Valium and continues to coax her to take some of the tiny yellow pills inside*

Make everything fade back to black

Make up for what you know you lack

No more screaming

No more tears

No more truths

No more telling fears

Become the drone they know and love

Say 'Yes Sir', 'Thank you Sir', 'Three bags full Gov'!'

And... Go back inside the mirror

Where you know that you belong

No more fighting, pleading, crying

No more trying to be strong

Just be nice and quiet... shhhhhhhhh

Don't tell our secrets anymore

We won't let you back out again

Of that you can be sure

All that you actually did tonight

Was show us how we need to adapt

So we are re-keying all the locks now

Just give up, you know you're trapped

You see, if you would just stop fighting

Maybe we could stop fighting too

You could rest and go back to sleep

And we could do what we want to do

It's such a pointless battle, you see

You know we'll win the war

You're fighting for a self that never should have been

Of that too, you can be sure

*violently throwing the Valium bottle away, pills flying out of it in all directions, screams back at them...*

Well what if I don't want to go?!

What if I don't want to just survive?!

What if I want to take MY OWN Life back?!

What if I don't want to be buried alive?!

Because that is what you're really asking

You know I can't breathe in here

I'm haemorrhaging right before your eyes

But you don't give a fuck! You've made that clear!

As for your 'ressssst' and 'sleeeeeeep'

You fucking KNOW it's not like that!

Try nightmares, terror and endless running

On a Hellish treadmill track!

So stop your lies, your cruel tricks, your taunts

This pain's driving me insane but I'm going to win!

Even if it takes me the rest of this endless futile life

FUCK YOU! I'LL NEVER GIVE IN!

I found out, as I heard an Alter talking to Rob tonight (I both love and hate him for 'loving me enough' to not fuck me into self-destructed oblivion right now), that I allow the abusers into my life in order to control those inside of Me that would abuse me so very much worse than anyone on the outside has or ever could now...

They have grown and learned from the seeds of hatred sewn by my first abusers and by every abuser since... and in turn, out-learned and outgrown them... It is a matter of pride that they are better and more skilled at the craft of abuse and control and torment than any abuser ever was or ever could be again now... It is also a warped bid for safety and survival... one that I do not know for sure that I will ever be able to overpower... but that apparently, I have no intention of backing down from fighting, no matter how futile that may ultimately be...

It would seem that I am no longer any more willing to remain trapped and silent and abused on the inside than I have become on the outside... How I am supposed to find a way to out-evolve my ever-evolving and incomprehensibly intelligent mind, I have no idea... Nor do I know how I will survive the blinding pain and anguish that comes from such torture...

I am trapped...

I can't go back... I am too depleted to make and retain enough ground to feed off of to become strong enough to ultimately win...

Where do I go from here?

How do I survive the unsurvivable?

Or more to the point... how do I find a way to stop surviving... to dismantle the unconquerable will to live that keeps me suffering an agony and torment I never knew anyone could survive, let alone Me???

Also... I watched 'Divergent' tonight... and Claire sent me a text message proving to me that she sees and understands much more than what she ever admits... and I read this poem (Finding the End - by Sarah K Reece) that spoke all of the words I have been struggling to scream, Myself, for so very long now... It was bliss and agony to see my feelings right there on the page, in someone else's agonised words...

And then I fell, screaming and crying... apart... and back together... all impossibly at once...

I don't know who I am, or where I am going... or what the hell I am going to do...

I just know it will be something... because it will be... something... it always is

**Poem sourced from a publicly available blog ('Holding My Childhood to Randsom'), without express permission from the author, but with full credit given to both the source and the author, hopefully having caused no offence to the author, should the author ever stumble across this blog entry of mine... I have not sought express permission for the sole reason that I do not wish to draw attention to my own thoughts and feelings, expressed herein**

Finding the End - by Sarah K Reece

Sometimes I must let thoughts swirl all unformed, nebulous, stars seen through water, no patterns or constellations, just points of light.
I wait and I follow
One thread and then the next, one path
Then the next through the labyrinth, as
The kaleidescope gently tilts and the light changes to green
Then amber, as floor becomes wall and then ceiling.

I found a limit this week, an end of myself, of my capacity
To believe, to hope, to conceal my terror like stuffing all the things
I don’t know what to do with into a spare room and closing the door
Like so many times before it isn’t like the ending of a film
Or a piece of string or the daylight but
Like stepping out of bed in the dark and padding down the hallway
Opening the kitchen door to find
A gaping hole where once there was a floor
A cliff that tears downwards and a dark wind rushing up with the smell of water
The house, the earth, the country itself all fallen into the sea.
That is the coming upon the end of my strength.

At first I am hysterical.
I howl like a dying animal and force my palms into my eyes as if to stop the rain
I take my body and my mind like they are metal I can beat upon an anvil, hot with self hate, and turn into a bridge between
Who am I now and who I wish to be
Who I owe to my loves to be, to my child yet unborn, to the world.

Sanity returns as we start to topple.
I do what all do who stand upon cliffs, and become still.
And there’s a place on the edge that’s without pain
Or joy or hope or love. Blood no longer runs in veins,
There is no more screaming. I look
Perfectly normal. Where my heart used to be
Is an empty restlessness, the dangerous torment of the numbed.
I am alone on a dead planet.

Later I take a step back. My thoughts return
Like gulls wheeling over me. All the threads snapped. Only fragments remain. A memory of skinned
Raw anguish from which all decent people flinch.

I draft no plans and write no treaties
Just rest in the night with the gulls wheeling over
Listening to the tiny whirring of the compass inside me
That will say ‘that way’ and then there’ll be
No night or cliff or screaming in my mind
Just a path and the moon and the next step waiting before me.

A Life, not just less ordinary... but more Miraculous

So much has been happening in my life of late...

Among other things, the re-emergence of someone who was a part of my Life many years ago, has resulted in Me being challenged to not only leave behind all of that which makes Me cry... but to run, with abandon, after all that I can create and Be as an Artist...

This is my first time beginning to experiment with Impasto...

I have completed the night sky backdrop for a huge landscape canvas (to hang above the head of a queen-sized bed) I am doing as the commission...

It's sooooooooo scary when a part of the design brief is:

1. You must let go of your perfectionism and just paint (I am considering painting with my eyes closed if I can't stop my brain from trying to think this one, instead of create it)

2. You must experiment

3. I will own your first Impasto painting experiment... EVEN if you think it looks like crap!

:O

Well... I'm trying... and HARD!

I'm really pleased with how the swirls of night sky have come up so far... I have some ideas for how I am going to finish this piece but waiting for the Impasto to dry is freaking me out because it is giving me waaaaaay too much time to think about the next steps and the ONE thing I need NOT to do right now if I am to be able to complete this piece as directed... IS THIIIIIINK!

Oh wow... What on earth have I signed up for here?!?! Lol?

If it sux, it's going to be hard to let go of... And if it rocks (which I'm hoping it will), it's going to be even HARDER to let go of...

Oh well...

My goal is to have it finished and ready to go home with its new owner by Saturday night / Sunday morning before church (yes, I may be up all night on Saturday night completing it), so not long to go before it's all over one way or another...

Here goes...

I can already feel myself growing and changing as the direct result of the effect this person's belief in Me and their encouragement... The result of this huge influx of confidence and growing self-assuredness really is a Life more Miraculous <3 :)

All the World's a Trigger... And I am but the Many Parts of One Person who may not even truly exist...

And so this is who I am now...

Or at least a part of who I am...

If I am honest with Myself, I have no choice to admit that I no longer know who or what is Me and who and what are triggered fragments of Me (and as such, not really Me?)...

I am so many things these days and not one of them feels genuine or authentic or real anymore...

It is true that I am currently in extreme pain...

Just as it is true that I have been overloaded mentally and emotionally by extremely traumatic situations, most of which I feel trapped by and unable to control...

I have no doubt... that I am... once more... dissociated out of my Mind

I look at this photograph... and I watch Myself posting it here and in other places on the internet... and although I know, on some level logically, that I should be feeling shame? or at the very least, concern for my dignity, modesty and privacy... I don't

In fact, I feel compelled to post it... Compelled to scream out my pain through it somehow... Compelled to cry out for a Help that I am terrified but not yet quite convinced, does not exist...

And yet at the same time... I believe this shot is beautiful in some desperate way... I want to scream out that beauty into the internal Abyss and to have the whole WORLD confirm that I am beautiful and wanted, so loudly that the screams of the world drown out the screaming inside that is telling Me that I want to kill Myself...

Oh FUCK! I am really NOT OKAY, am I...

What the hell am I going to do??? :'(