My grief is selfish.

We woke up this morning to the news of a dear friend had passed away. It’s not easy for us to deal with grief. We feel it keenly especially when it is someone most of us has interacted with. And in this online world, touching another’s soul is felt more poignantly as it is the only caress we can feel. Why is it only after do we realize just how much they were a part of our lives?

I don’t even know if they knew that I have DID. Or that they were among the privileged few who interacted with all the parts of me. I feel four times the grief but I received four times the love. He has our trust and respect and he will be deeply missed.

I’d rather look forward

I almost forget today is Friday. I’ve skipped / ignored quite a few of them already. You know there is something special about gratitude and taking the time to express gratitude. For a moment I’m not looking backwards finding negatives but searching for positives. And it is the positives that I need listed and reminded of far more than most things in my life.

Right now I don’t want to face something out of my past. I just wish I could forget it, bury it back under as I’m struggling with dealing with the emotions of it. But I wonder, is it possible to be grateful of the future as much as one is grateful of the past?

Or is that what hope is made of? Gratitude for and of the future?

I’d like to explore this thought, how to carry gratitude into the future, how to face the future with gratitude. I won’t feel so much like I’m driving life backwards through the rear-view mirror.

I’d like to start plotting my course forwards.



I woke up this morning an’ popped out of bed feeling okay about myself and things. Expressing myself helps.

Despite what we are, I found something funny. I learned what kind of pains are good and what kind of pains are bad. And for an emotional masochist to say this, I think is very good progress. I think I’d rather be wearing stripes on my skin than what I feel inside.

Not all pains are created equal.

Thinking Thoughts

I didn’t want to change him. I knew men don’t change. They are who they are. Either you accept them flaws and all or you don’t. It’s the don’t part that hurts the heart first. Then I made my own mistakes. I attempted to change me into something I’m not. That was my biggest mistake.

And now I’m nursing heartaches on heartaches. I helped in my own destruction. I battered down my own walls. I beat myself up, hard and for all for what? For a smile. For a atta-girl. Just to feel his pride settle down on me. It never will. It never did.

I refused to let pleasure-seeking be the thing that decides the flip of the coin. Logic as I understand it, granted I need to be careful of logical fallacies and exercise it to a greater degree, is what I choose to operate on. At least while I’m running the show. Emotions are such wayward things – impulsive, short-sighted and too often destructive.

I refused to ask so many things. I refused to confront so many different issues. I don’t believe it would have changed a thing. I wasn’t ready to accept that breadcrumbs are just breadcrumbs. I was starving thinking I was eating.

He once told me, he wanted to show me how amazing I am. I don’t feel amazing. I’m still waiting to see it. Rather I feel quite ordinary. But I was feeling low that day, very low and it was a hell of a boost to the id. I remember the smile it brought to my lips. It still brings a smile.

I didn’t want to change him. Still don’t want to change him.  There is some good there.  But right now, I’m worried that I hurt him. I don’t have a clue why I’d think that way or even feel that way.  Why would it matter that a cog popped off? It’s replaceable.

Or maybe I just wish I had hurt him. The thought of just being a cog in his eyes tears me up. An emotionless cog is how I felt in his eyes. Anything less than love an’ devotion was unworthy to spend a moment’s time on, a decision made to please him that ended up hurting me somehow. I’ve made massive mistakes.

What walls do I need to build up? Oh, right. I have a right to make a choice. I have a right to say no. And I also have a right to say yes. Oh, I have the right to make these choices of my own free will and in my own time.

It’s not such a little wall. It needs time.




When the world changes

It took a single moment to plunge us into a whole new world full of terrors. From once we were in a place unfamiliar and strange but comfortable to a battlefield with the colors drained away. And so here we are standing in chaos as war rages around us and each of us sandbagging the walls. I’m calling out the orders. This place is destroyed. Just bare earth and the only other living things here are us.

This is the inner world we live and exist in, reconnect to each other in. What happened to us? Is this just the reality that illusion was keeping hidden? Or is this just an illusion?

Last few days I’ve watched as Isa has torn apart her Minecraft sky island. She tore it down to the bottom and is bricking it up again. Adding layer after layer of stone and dirt, making it thicker and more impervious to creeper blasts. I watch and wonder as the monotony of placing brick soothes her. One single distraction and she’ll fall off the edge.

Shoring up defenses, huh? I don’t want to live here in this place. It’s lifeless and full of pain. I miss the bleachers. I miss the cuddle rug. I miss the library. And I miss the days I dreamed I had. What’s the plan?

How do you transform a war-zone into a place of life?


Oh really? Today is what?

It’s quite funny, today is International Woman’s day and I haven’t the slightest bit of interest in it. Never heard of it before and I’m sure it’s going to be used as some bellwether for a political movement or some such thing. I see social media references to protests. I just shrug and move on.

Somebody pretty important to me recently said they were going ‘radio silent’ for a while. Okay, everyone needs to do that from time to time. Not a big deal, right? Except, they are still pretty active on social media. Right. They just didn’t want to say they had no interest in talking to me anymore. Oooookay then.

So, in the interest of International Women’s Day, I suggest you be honest to the women in your life. At the very least you get to say you participated in celebrating this day. Win – Win for everyone!

Anyways, by the time International Men’s Day rolls around, I’m sure the guys can present the world a list of celebratory actions to partake in. Just sign me up for the cooking. I’ll put on coffee and make a feast.

WTF just happened? 

Oh’s No’s! It’s a backdated post! This one should have been published around the 23’rd of December 2016.

I hung up on him. And spent the next twenty minutes in shock, hugging the hell out of my blanket and arguing  with myself. What the hell had I done and worse, why had I?

I chalked it up as yet another one of my many many mistakes. But a few things stood out from the conversation. I had never felt he approved of me choosing to be a mother. It was just a few words and it lifted a weight from me that I had not realized I was carrying.

I did a lot of thinking last night. How to formula a proper wish, one that doesn’t include selfishness or unduly benife me. It has been something I have thought on in the last few days and I finely got it done. And then I promptly fell asleep.

But the letter was sent and responded too. And it stuck in my head the wish I had set free.

How do I make sense of the tears that ran down my face or the calm assurance his voice brings or how every word is searched for inflection and meaning?  How do stop my brain from emptying out at the sound of his voice?

Something changed in me. How am I responsible for the things I’ve done, that I’ve done as a collective? Yet I’ve agreed to be responsible for what all of me’s said and done. Good gods it’s tough.

I don’t understand why I’ve said or done what I did. Brain and heart still in battle but somehow heart is stubborn beyond beyond.

He’s right. He knows it and I know it. He sees me for what I am.

Funny part is, nothing and everything changed.

It feels like clarity. I know I’m not fully all there. I still have problems. But I know its a problem so I’m kinda
Yeah, we are choosing to publish this as well in its unfinished form.  This was written in a spare moment between chaos.