(For many survivors of childhood abuse, "Mother's Day" has negative connotations. Hence, I have received a number of emails regarding the struggle of managing th very complex emotions regarding this day. I am not a therapist, so please: if this is a troubling time for you, it also means that it is a critical time to visit your therapist.The subject is far too complex, and requires both the training and skills that I do not posess. A good therapist is highly effectual in finding your way through this period.) 


Whew.....finally made it through "the cold". Husband has it now....isn't that always the way it goes? He gets it long after we do, then says: "I didn't realize how bad you all felt". Yeup......the joints hurting I think was the worst part. But all past now, so yippee! 


Skipped the Dr. Phil drama.....at least that's one thing I've learned so far in life: I have a choice over how much drama I choose to allow into my world. There's enough out there trying to creep in......maybe that's why I end up vacuuming the balcony during a tornado warning? 


Husband's job failed inspection, so we will be in the land of TX for, hmmmmm, don't know. But we 'taint leaving anytime soon. Glad he's not the supervisor, as someone always has to take responsibility when dollars and time are involved......had nothing to do with him, and the super made it clear. So, we can let their drama remain theirs........and enjoy TX a little longer. 


Aramis freaked a little when his ears became blocked from congestion, he forgot what it was like to have his hearing messed with. Made me realize just how far he has come with the schizophrenia. He certainly is so much clearer, and is actually a fascinating young man. I'm glad to finally have the opportunity to "meet" who was buried deep inside. I never realized he had a sense of humor....but he does, and it's spontaneous.....just pops out. He's really quite funny. 


We've been watching the new "Dr. Who", which I was never into before. Since Aramis is less instigated by what he sees now, it's actually fun to enjoy a show with him that doesn't have to be pre-screened for every slight thing. He is still obsessed with "time", and of course, Dr. Who only adds to that, but now he has every intention of his brother inventing the machine and he'll do the computer programming. Okay.....he found a solution. 


This week of having a cold really did throw him for a loop though...."where did the week go?".....and all the questions, that when you really think about it, are quite normal, just not usually analyzed. His perspective is so different from DID, that I find answering him is a wee bit of a challenge. Well.....it went. "Why".....because you were too sick to notice. "So does time keep moving when we don't look? What about when we are busy, time moves faster? Why do grownups say that time moves faster when you are older? How does time know to move?". Hmmmm........I really can't explain it. I just keep repeating that there are 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year. I have a sneaky suspicion that the concept of "time" has been addressed for ages.....I know the philosophers analyzed it. Maybe this is a good sign for Aramis....then again: I think it's just his current obsession. 


Time? Well, you ask a DID'er, and they, or at least I, have no clue where the "time" went. It just did, and usually things ran smoothly while I was "away". For that I am grateful, and simply have learned to live with it, and no longer be controlled by the fear of missing days or weeks. 


Mother's Day.....well that's a loaded subject. Fortunately, I have no contact, so part of the solution to a potential problem is solved right out the gates. For myself? I have mixed emotions about the day, and prefer to actually not celebrate it. We celebrate a sort of "Mother's Day" on the boys birthday's.....and I like that arrangement. We always sit as a family and reflect back to their introduction to the family unit. Those are good memories, and ones I prefer to dwell on. They usually want to hear the same stories every year, about how they were born, etc.....and I'm always left with a positive feeling. So, for me: skip "Mother's Day", and try to avoid all the ads that pop up every time I turn around. 


Well, have a good weekend everyone. It's rainy here in TX, but I'm finally seeing Cardinals....my life long wish! They don't seem to be bothered in the least by the rain, and have found our bird feeder......so all in all, life is sweet. 


I have a date to watch the next episode of "Dr. Who" with oldest boy......

Stay positive everyone! 


Shelly

Okay......so I live on the second floor of a luxury apartment. We have a swimming pool, which we used yesterday and oldest boy got fried. Burnt, boiled, cooked: frankly he looked like a lobster. I, being the mostly Irish part of the gene pool knew what sunburn is all about. Husband and younger son look like ice cream sandwiches when sans clothing. That's the Choctaw half. Nope, older boy decided he was going to fry, even his poor eyes were red. Dad didn't quite know what to do, so the Irish half, who spent most of my life hiding from the sun (and still manage to get sun burnt!) popped said boy into a cool bath, gave him an antihistamine, and laid him down under a fan while still wet. He said I was a great mom, knew just what to do, thanks mom, love you.......and then barfed all over me. Not once, but three times. Wow!!! He says he really feels better now!! Back to the land of the living, and I'm in the shower. Amazingly, I caught it all...... 

And that was yesterday. 

So, here I am sitting on my balcony, and all I really want to do is lay on the couch ALL DAY and not see PS3. Won't happen.....but maybe I can demand a little mommy-time on the tele for a "boring documentary". I did so yesterday, and the boys stared as if their brains were melting through a documentary with Carl Sagan. Okay....I admit, he's a little dry. 

I find it interesting that because of where I live (next to the apartment complex garage) I feel like James Stewart in Hitchcock's "Rear Window". I see the same couple leave every morning, who apparently manage a Korean store of some sort, as they always bring home a bag of groceries with the label in Korean, and leave Korean newspapers by the trashcan. (No one puts the trash in the can, as there is an odd sign that says "Do not put trash in here".) Every morning, the male half of the Korean equation walks around the car analyzing it for any dings or scratches, and the female half waits to go to work. They won't be back until late tonight, but either way they  march to their car or home like they've been trained to do the goosestep. Interesting people, they never smile, never talk to each other, and never divert from their schedule. 

Then there's the guy who wears a visor all the time, has scraggly hair, is overweight from too much beer, tanned as can be, and usually sits by the pool. That's his schedule....sometimes he must go to work, but I never see it. 

There's the 22 year old ex-Social Worker who is now a pre-school teacher and her boyfriend who has TBI. His High School experience was cut short by a friend who was drinking. He was the passenger, but yeah! he is starting to learn to stand. 

The husband who always hid on the balcony from his wife.....who now lives without wife, and smiles much more. She took the dog. 

The lady who has the yellow lab, who has no social skills (dog not woman), who unfortunately was the casualty of divorce. What do I know? Maybe she's happy about it......but she lives for ice cream sundaes and take out food. Every day, every trip back and forth. Her kids visit on weekends. She just bought a folding table to eat at. 

The kids are the most interesting, every weekend, the same astounding amount of kids come in to visit and leave late Sunday night. Sunday is the worst day at the pool, as everyone is trying to squeeze the last few hours out of the weekend. Most are drunk, and very friendly......it's Texas.....since there is always a woman (or two) who have their hair perfectly coiffed and fully clothed, makeup AND loads of jewelry. They simply dangle their pedicured toes in the shallow end of the water, and I have no idea how they keep from melting. But talk to them: and you've got the southern drawl hanging as heavy as their perfume. 

There's the two apartments with new babies too.......I never see the mothers or the babies, but the grandparents constantly visit bearing gifts. Decked to the nines, and Grandpa usually has to remove his Doctor's coat.....here they come, with bags of goodies, and often times food. 

The single gentleman who has a preened to the hilt yellow Cocker Spaniel.......the dog actually wears a rain coat and little booties if the weather is bad. I swear my dog must laugh at him as he passes by. He simply will NOT go out in the rain, won't cross the threshold, and that's all he has to say on the matter. 

I wish I could say that I'm more like Grace Kelly in this scenario, all decked out beautifully and speaking with perfect allure. But no.....I'm Jimmy Stewart, and I can probably tell you about everyone in my corner of the world. If Grace Kelly was here, she'd agree that I need to stop watching from my balcony. 

All I can say is that I've realized that most people don't have a perfectly smarmy life. The people who drive too fast have each found at least one steel pole in the parking garage. Most people look like their dogs, and that's an entirely different subject altogether. In TX, if you don't pay your rent, some people come from the "outside" and put all of your belongings into trash bags, and set them next to the can that says "Don't put trash in here." Most people are never home as they are at work, and the other half are asleep as they work for the medical community and usually work nights. It's a regular rotation that I've come to know, and find strangely reassuring. 

It's Texas......Dallas, TX......and a completely different planet from WA or UT. 



Shelly 

Well, Friday finally arrived. It always does....but in some small way it feels like a major accomplishment to make it to the end of the week. I haven't written for a few days, just took some time off; and had quite a few emails to address directly. The boys are being hit with either a cold or allergies, so they've been a bundle of fun......but still: really awesome young people who are growing so rapidly. 

I had my therapist appointment yesterday......I find it amazing that after so many of my insiders stood guard and had to check her out thoroughly that I actually attend therapy now and can be present for the entire session. We had an interesting discussion as to schizophrenia and DID, it's related symptoms, and again: how does a psychiatrist determine one diagnosis over the other? I mean: they both "hear voices" (we all know the standard answer: voices inside versus voices outside), flashbacks could be interpreted differently as hallucinations, etc. She said in all the years she has worked with DID, that she has learned to sit back and listen for quite a while. A client with DID will always come back to a main subject, or stay focused, where with schizophrenia the subject can be obsessive or all over the place. Hmmmm, I think I've been like that a few times. Nope, she replied, I'm too clear, lucid, and have a definite change within my insider states. Still, they all come back to the same linear thought. She has had a few clients were thought they were DID, but instead had transient hallucinations, so they weren't schizophrenic either.

And when I think about it, schizophrenia is certainly not like this. I know what schizophrenia is like.....and there's the kicker. Until I finished reading "Stalking the Irish Madness", and conducted some research for my second book, I never truly looked at the impact that schizophrenia has had in my life. I was trying to explain to the therapist: it took years to recognize the "in your face" dangers, incoherent thoughts, and violence of living in an abusive home environment, but I never really considered the schizophrenic portion. I never felt or even contemplated the role this disease has had in my life. 

Strange, one would think that being 40, and diagnosed with DID for almost 20 years, I would have considered this subject at some point. Nope, it was always a second subject, not important, something that was as easily overlooked as the parsley they stick on the side of your dinner. You know it's there, you almost expect it to be there, and sometimes you have even tasted it. BUT, it's not part of the dinner. Not technically.....I mean, if someone asked you what you ate at the restaurant last night, you wouldn't mention the parsley now would you? That's how schizophrenia has always been in my mind. A side issue.....yes, I've had to include it when I talk about my family of birth, as I've learned that to leave it out confuses therapists and anyone who is listening. After all: the television talked to mom and she was "god's emissary". But, in my mind: brother, uncle and mother were abusive.......oh, and they had schizophrenia. 

Even my son's diagnosis of schizophrenia made me wonder at the way the psychiatrist wanted to "prepare" me for the news. News? I saw the signs......and when he was violent, yeah, it was hard. He has schizophrenia, I get it, I know a lot about it. But do I really? 

It's odd that this subject has come up, while the therapist and I are working on "how I feel"....since I have become so disconnected in many ways to the emotions naturally felt by human beings. They are compartmentalized, within each of my insiders, and for daily functioning, this system works. Yet, the emotions still exist, they are just individually wrapped up like glasses prepared for packing. I have to unravel quite a few things in my head before I can even recognize what is tucked away and hidden. Then, unfortunately, it feels like a punch to the stomach. 

So, I'm sitting in my session, discussing the studies that claim the Irish have a higher incidence of schizophrenia running through their genetic makeup than other societies, and whether this was due to nature or nurture....all sorts of hypothesis on the subject....when it hits me: I've never really looked at the impact schizophrenia has had in my life. 

I never had a mother. I had a "mom", and she was schizophrenic. So: what did I have? I was raised by schizophrenia with manic phases (or bi-polar), auditory and visual hallucinations and religious compellations. My brother had schizophrenia from such a young age, he was never a brother, he was simply "Richard".......which, in a way, was not his name but a description of all that he represented. The boy child and the schizophrenia combined. The same with my uncle, and grandmother. They were almost non-people, as they never existed as individuals in the first place. When I interacted with them, I interacted with the schizophrenia first, for the person was buried somewhere deep inside: unmedicated, and on the outside: raving. I don't think I ever have met them as people, individuals, real humans; as I always interacted with the schizophrenia. 

It hit me first hand later that day, as my son told me that: 1) he no longer has schizophrenia 2) he no longer needs his medicine 3) I made it all up, he never heard any voices and he's angry that I told the doctor what "they said" and 4) could I take him to the bathroom as there is a huge bird in there with wings that says he will pounce and scratch his eyes out if I'm not along? I asked if he saw the bird? "NO, I don't see things anymore, you made that up." Okay........so how do you know there is a bird in there? Oh....he knows, and further will describe even more about the bird (which is rather terrifying to say the least). Well, did he say he was going to pluck your eyes out? "NO, I don't hear things anymore......but he said he'd do it." Alright, at this point, let's just get to the bathroom. "Thanks mom, you're the best". Uh huh......so glad you're on medication, and no, you're not coming off of the medicine if I have anything to say about it. 

You know the parsley that sits on the edge of the plate? Every once in a while I would take a bite of it......and generally it would be bitter as can be. Harsh and twiggy, without the enjoyable flavor of the bitterness that a dish of collard greens conveys, but simply torture to endure. I've always suspected that restaurants simply wash the same sprig and reuse it over and over since no one seems to eat the parsley. Perhaps, like me they tried it and realized it's not part of the dinner. 

And whether I like it or not, I have to admit that the "parsley" was there all along. It impacted me, and I have to acknowledge it. The big family secret that was not to be talked about in public or even at home. We had all sorts of cover excuses: Mom was in a car accident and incurred whiplash, so her "neck was out". Richard was "uncomfortable" around people because he couldn't hear when he was young. Uncle "drank" and was "deaf", that's why he was the way he was. Then the subcategories of cover up stories, let alone the outright denial and clean up of events so no one would know. 

I question: who decided that these events should be covered up? I don't remember a family meeting to determine if we were to all participate in hiding what was obviously an elephant, several really, in the room? I remember reading about one member of the family being considered the family "secret keeper" years later, and recognized myself, Obviously, I was that person....but I don't remember volunteering. When was all this decided? Who laid the foundation of secrecy? I have no answers....it just was how things were to be done. 

Sadly, it appears that many people have treated mental illness this way. Hide it, cover it up, and find another reason to explain the events you cannot prevent from becoming public. This attitude goes back generations, and still continues today. As far as my stand: I will not keep it a secret, something to be ashamed of and hidden away. I know, and I know far too well how much damage this course of action creates. 

So: Aramis is "fine". Hmmmm, glad he's feeling better. Also made an appointment as apparently we still live with monsters, they may not talk to him (really?) and he may not see them (again: really?) but they are a part of our lives just as much as that twig of parsley is present next to a delicious steak dinner. 

It's only when you look that you see it. 
It's only when you taste it that the reality becomes clear. 

Well, those are my "linear thoughts" for the day. Honestly, it makes me laugh to be considered able to do so. What did the therapist say? Oh, I'm also "sophisticated and highly intellectual".....still makes me giggle......I told her that's high praise for a girl who came from pure white trash. Her reply? "And someone who was taken out of school in the sixth grade". Oh yeah.......so I could take care of the problems at home, which didn't exist in the first place whenever anyone asked. 

Looks like another hot day today in TX......husband will be home early, and the boys have a play date with a co-worker and his PS3. Ahhhh, I'll have quiet for several hours later today. Better be off to get some homework done then.........if you listen carefully, you just might hear the wails from two boys in TX when they realize that they still have school today. 

Have a good one, and please: stay safe. From the emails I've received, several are really struggling. Stay safe, take care of yourselves, and surround yourselves with positive support. May we each find a bit o'peace today. 



Shelly