Why is this picture here? Because the last post I put up makes me want to die.
So here is a picture of my Lloyd. Lloyd up close and personal and with a little water-beard.
I am putting this here because this is what I do to keep going. When I feel like I am falling into a black hole I have to lean out- and in another direction. Something better. Something from 2008. I have to remind myself of the year and my age and... and all of that.

Last night I got into bed early because I just felt so awful from the day and I began reading "The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold. I ended up reading the entire novel and going to sleep around 3AM. It was a good book. My favorite line from the whole novel was this: "There is no condition one adjusts to so quickly as a state of war."

Tomorrow I go to South Carolina to see Jessieh. (I am leaving just after a therapy session.)

See you soon Fritter!!!

I feel like my thoughts are really all over today but I wanted to write here about one specific thing. Before I started therapy and began telling about all that my father had done to me I was absolutely adamant about NOT taking medication. I was constantly being urged by friends, 'family' and different doctors I went to over the years to "just try" taking antidepressants. I took them a few different times but only when I was almost being forced into doing it and as soon as I felt a little 'better' I would immediately stop taking them. Anyway- after I met the doctor I work with now and right after I started telling him about the abuse my father had inflicted- I was ready to try taking medication. I was not just ready- I was desperate for relief. I needed medication to help keep me calmed down enough not to hurt myself in a way from which there would be no recovery; until I could get to the point where I could manage the feelings myself. It was very clear to me- after I started explaining for the first time in my life what my father had done- that the reason I had fought so adamantly to NOT take anti depressants was because I WAS JUST WAITING TO TELL THIS SHIT STORY AND I WAS F*ING DETERMINED TO DO JUST THAT AND I REALIZE NOW THAT I JUST WANTED TO BE FULLY AWAKE AND LUCID WHEN THAT MOMENT FINALLY ARRIVED. So it did finally arrive- my moment to finally tell the truth and let me tell you... after that I was ready to 'try' the medications. I have taken medication for about five years now- almost the entire time of my therapy work. I started taking less more than a year ago and in the last year I have reduced the amounts again. In the past few days I have been wondering if I could might maybe be ready to go off ALL of the medication now- if I could be without ANY medication now. Right now I am taking one antidepressant and one antianxiety pill (before I go to sleep at night). I used to take higher doses of both of the medications I am still presently on and now I do not take very large doses of either one. So I started wondering if I could stop taking it and I have talked to my doctor about this (of course) and he said a few months ago that he thought I was probably ready to be with out the meds. I remember when he said it I thought, "Are you joking?!!!!!!!!!!!". Of course he was not joking and I have thought about it on and off but it scares me a little because it sort of feels like one of the last 'buffers' that I am still able to use. And while I used to just hate the idea of medication it really has been a huge help to me. But anyway- yesterday I took half of my regular dose of the antidepressant and in a crazy, wild leap of faith moment of sanity or insanity- I am not sure which- I took half the dose of the antianxiety medicine last night before I went to bed, too.
Today I have felt sad for most of the day. I have felt both sad and anxious. Except there is a huge difference between how things were five years ago when I started limping down the painful road to recovering and the striding walk/run I take now. I am SO much more aware that the feelings I am having- like wanting to get out of my skin- or feeling like my body is not my own- I am able to stop when I have those feelings and instead of just feeling the first part where I feel freaked out and panicked... I am able to realize WHY I feel freaked out and panicked. For the majority of my life when I felt like my skin was on fire or my hands- how could they even be mine?- I used to just feel terror and then run circles in terrified thought with no exit. Now everything is just... everything is just so... clear. And while I still feel freaked out and anxious and terrified by my own body- i am able to not hurt myself, not have a panic attack from which I can not recover from without crawling into bed and sleeping for some hours and I am able to BE SAD. Today I have been feeling really sad and anxious... depressed and confused... and at one point I started thinking that I absolutely am not ready to be without medication. I still need it, I was thinking. Because I am still so anxious, I was thinking. Anxious and depressed and sad and so hurt and.... and I realized that all of that is 1. Totally normal considering what it is that I am dealing with/ working on now and 2. It is all just feelings. All of the anxiety, the panic, the depression, the sadness- almost all of it comes from the memories about the past. The memories, the flash backs, the nightmares which are not so much nightmares as they are thinly veiled pictures of the truth about my life when I was growing up. Anyway- I think I probably do not need the medicine anymore now. It is scary to admit that and weird to image still having to deal with all of this shit story and not having anything to turn to except myself. I realize today I am sad for a reason. I am sad for MANY reasons. I am sad for a list of reasons so long it could take me a month just to try to write it all out. But it is not impossible and neither is it unmanageable. It is just a feeling- a bunch of feelings. And while most of the feelings are horrible they are still only feelings and they are not going to kill me- they are in fact going to pass. And I think they are going to pass once I have really allowed myself to feel them which is exactly what did not happen the first time around (when my father was actually abusing me) because it really was too painful to tolerate and I really did need to dissociate and at least 'pretend' I was out of this skin- in order to just survive. But anyway... now, and in the name of trying to go through this in the most direct and thus least painful way possible- I am going to take this, another step towards reality. I have really loved for a long time the quote by Winston Churchill, "If you find yourself going through hell keep going.". That is always how this work of recovering has felt. It feels like going through hell. And it is clearly the best choice to not sit down along the side of the road of this hell of pain and hurt but to keep walking it until I come out on the otherside. I am so tired of hurting and of being tired and sad and in pain and scared... I am just so sick of it all. But I have worked for SO long and I have made it SO far- I have never felt more determined to get through the rest of this then I do now. I am still terrified, but I am awake and alive and all of this shit mess of hurt really is going to pass- I KNOW it now. I KNOW it.
My father won almost every battle- almost every single one.
But I am going to win this war.
I already am.

In a few days we will begin filming for the new documentary about the enormous amount of silliness that occurs when Jessieh and I get all of our "ways of being" into the same physical space. And what I mean by that is:
I AM GOING TO SOUTH CAROLINA ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT TO SEE MY LITTLE FRITTER! :-)
Last night when I talked to Jessieh she said, "Are you going to write on your blog that you are coming here to see me...?" OF COURSE! :-)
First, I just want to say I am really grateful I do not have to worry about forgetting which day my flight is. For about a week now I have been waking up to a text message (that was sent several hours earlier) notifying me (with heavy usage of exclamation points) the number of days until I will be in South Carolina. And while there is a lot of excitement in the air about me going to Waffle House for the first time, the real reason I am going is to see Jessieh ACTING!! She is in two plays: "Agamemnon" and "The Trojan Women". I am going down on WEDNESDAY (I put that all in caps just for you Jessieh- so you would know I am TOTALLY CLEAR about what day it is that I am leaving) (and when I say "down", here I mean "down into the deep deep south") and I will be coming back on Saturday. I will see Jessieh perform on Thursday and Friday nights. I am really excited.
What? People with dissociative disorders who were raped for years and keep blogs where they go on constantly about their constant struggle to survive the recovery from all of that abuse are able to have fun???? How can it bE?!?!?
Right. That is why we document this craziness. The documentation can actually be used later as a therapeutic tool. This is what I mean: Sometimes when I feel REALLY bad about the past it can be helpful to watch the films we made when we have been together. My favorite- the one that pulls me through every time- is the one where I talked Jessieh into doing her impersonation of Jennifer Grey practicing how to dance (while alone) in "Dirty Dancing". In the video Jessieh is working the living room to "I've Had The Time Of My Life" while I am standing in the corner doubled over, holding my sides, laughing like crazy and trying not to pee my pants. Therapeutic. VERY VERY therapeutic. This is pretty good too though. :)
So come back in a couple of days because I am sure some of the silliness will end up here on my blog. And I will definitely be writing about seeing Jessieh in her two plays!!!
And p.s.... I am hoping to post a picture of the finished boots before I go. I have been drawing on them all weekend.