It's been akmost 3 months since I last wrote on this blog ... great consistency, huh? And yes, that is me being highly sarcastic ...

Sometimes it feels like I survive by sacasam ... or at least in being able to poke fun at myself ... is this so very wrong do you think?

On the one hand, being able to laugh at myslef has rescued me from many a pitfall I didn't need to experience ... on the other, I am constantly self-ridiculing and bringing up for public scutiny my own personal shortcomings and failings ...

... put like that, a not entirely healthy scenario, right?!? Or am I being over dramatic or annilytical?

Anyways ... from June to September I was taking part in a 12 week group therapy course and that is the real reason for my silence ...

Right now I am at the point of exhaustion where I can't really think, so bed is the only option.

I will be trying so hard to come back to you this week.

All best thoughts.

Where have I been?

In my head. In my past. In my memories. In my flashbacks. In my physical sensations. In my desperated attempts to block it all out just for a while.

I have always been a processor, a thinker, an anilyticol type of girl, someone who thinks, evaluates and reads, reads, reads to try and work things out, to understand, to try and shed some light on whatever it is I'm dealing with right then.

So the fact that I'm doing a group therapy course for 12 weeks this summer, means 90% of my mind is constantly processing and thinking about what happened to me, the consequences and my sisters.

Everywhere I turn I see something, read something, that reminds me, upsets me, stirs me up, jogs a memory, prevokes a flashback, triggers a panic attack.

I can't be a very easy person to live with right now. My poor husband.

The last couple of weeks have been particularly hard, as I have been preparing to talk about what happened to me in the group.

My individual worker strongly suggested I should start to write my memories down. I didn't think I'd be able to, but having started, I don't seem able to stop. I can remember a lot more than I thought I could, now that I can hold the memories on paper, rather than in the jungle of my head.

I can't write anymore right now, but I will again soon - I really will. Thank you for your patience and thank you for listening.

Dream of Mirrors

Have you ever felt the future is the past, but you don't know how...?
A reflected dream of a captured time, is it really now, is it really happening?

Don't know why I feel this way, have I dreamt this time, this place?
Something vivid comes again into my mind
And I think I've seen your face, seen this room, been in this place
Something vivid comes again into my mind

All my hopes and expectations, looking for an explanation
Have I found my destination? I just can't take no more

The dream is true, the dream is true
The dream is true, the dream is true

Think I've heard your voice before, think I've said these words before
Something makes me feel I just might lose my mind
Am I still inside my dream? Is this a new reality
Something makes me feel that I have lost my mind

All my hopes and expectations, looking for an explanation
Coming to the realization that I can't see for sure

I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself
I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, please save me from myself

The dream is true, the dream is true
The dream is true, the dream is true

I get up put on the light, dreading the oncoming night
Scared to fall asleep and dream the dream again
Nothing that I contemplate, nothing that I can compare
To letting loose the demons deep inside my head

Dread to think what might be stirring, that my dream is reoccurring
Got to keep away from drifting, saving me from myself

I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself
I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself

Lost in a dream of mirrors, lost in a paradox
Lost and time is spinning, lost a nightmare I retrace
Lost a hell that I revisit, lost another time and place
Lost a parallel existence, lost a nightmare I retrace

I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself
I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself

I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself
I only dream in black and white, I only dream cause I'm alive
I only dream in black and white, to save me from myself

The dream is true, the dream is true
The dream is true, the dream is true

Dream of Mirrors, Gers & Harris, Iron Maiden

Late night ramblings

I haven't written here in ages. There has been too much to say.The thought of trying to find the words to say what is going on right now has been enough to stop me from trying to write.

For me, the question never enters my head as to whether or not I am going to provide the emotional and physical support that my husband has needed from me in the last 6 months. Ok, so yes, I'm a human, and sometimes it has been a big struggle, a massive swallowing of any back-comments, but the pulling out of bed when you are beyond exhaustion, the tying on of shoes when your fingers are weary, the packing up of lunches and some nice surprise treats when all you can think of is sleeping all day or cutting till you have to go to A&E, the tissues you find for his tears of hopelessness even though you can't remember what hope looks like, the cuddles when he is lost but you need space ... all of that, plus the housework (even though you haven't got the mental or physical capacity to do much), the grocery shopping (even though you get bad neck ache from carrying it 2o minutes home) and the cooking (even though it's mostly late and leaves a mess and costs more then it's supposed to, 'cause you're less able to think on-the-fly ... I have done, and willingly.

However, on top of all of this and I've also been getting in the final assignment for my own module and doing 4 3/4 hours of therapy a week ... I am exhausted beyond belief.

Oh yes, and I was so desperately determined that I didn't want to carry on with the whole binging-and-purging thing that this is my 19th day without making myself ill - I have never made it this far in the last 2 years!!! A massive struggle, but hopefully I'll make it another 19 days from here - that will make 38-days-Bulimia-free!!! :D It has been really hard at times, but I always hated it and now even more so, so please may it continue!!

I knew in theory what this decision/action would mean for my emotions, but yeah, phew, really.

Honestly, I have been relying more on my other coping strategies, I have been drinking more, more often and cutting again more frequently and except for when I have drunk a lot, I hardly eat a thing ...

It's all really f*cked up right now and sometimes it seems an impossibility to ever get it to any sort of reasonable ... shape? I don't know.

How I've been and questions about scars ***

*** Possibly triggering - suicidal ideation and self-harm ***

I haven't posted in a while. I just haven't been able to. Every time I've thought about writing out how I'm feeling ... yeah, emotional shut-down basically.

Life has been, at times, hell on earth. I hope never to find out what hell is really like, but boy, this is quite as bad as I can take, thank you very much.

I actually had to text my personal, long-term therapist the other day, cause I was feeling that bad and was getting so close to actually following through on a suicidal ideation ... no, I know it just isn't an option. I've promised my husband I won't, he trusts me 100% and I know that this is a promise I am going to keep - as sacred, if not more, than my marriage vows.

But you know? It still scares me sh*tless when I'm that close to the edge. And in a weired, twisted sort of way, the fact that I know I can't do it and that I have to stay here, makes it worse - like I have no way out and am in some kind of prison or restraints.

I guess that ultimately, hopefully, that's for the best.

So here is a question I have, one that has bothered me quite a bit over the years, and quite a lot right now ...

How do you feel about wearing sleeveless/short-sleeved tops/dresses when you have scars on your arm?

You see, I don't self-harm on my arms anymore, haven't done since not long after I got engaged and started thinking about my wedding dress.

I got some special kind of scar-gel from my dr and used it twice a day, and went to someone who showed me how to apply prescription scar make-up. The pharmacy messed up my prescription and gave me African-American skin-colour make-up, which sadly, due to much stress, I didn't realise until the morning of my wedding, so ... I had to do the best I could with my chief-bridesmaid's cover-up and once the ceremony was over, my flowers were permanently over my arm until the reception, where I had this fun, very-me scarf over my arms ... yeah, a bit of a nightmare! But hey, I got to wear the perfect dress, see the look in my husband's eyes and hear him say how beautiful he thought I was and if anyone noticed, they never said, so worth it? Yup!! :)

So now, over a year since I last created a scar on my arm, they have gone from red to white, but are still quite raised. I am trying to work towards being less self-conscious about it but ... still worry that the scars are glaringly obvious to everyone else. My amazing husband, who's wonderfully supportive in every way, has sight issues, so has admitted that he really isn't a good gauge of wether or not my scars are easily visible. He can feel them and knows they're there, but can't quite see them now, although he could a few months ago.

I'm trying to practice walking through the supermarket or mall with my long sleeves pushed up to my elbows, so kind of half covering, but still safe for me. I haven't noticed anyone staring at me, but it's very anonymous - will friends who I'm sitting next to and talking to for a while notice?

Am I just being over-paranoid?

I would really value any comments you have on this topic - thank you so much!

The Celestial Companion

Still, courage, my friend.
Still, all is not lost and you are not yet done.
Still, there are fires to burn in the darkness and light to cast amongst the shadows.
Still, there are moments that must be taken, fighting and spitting to the ground.
Still, nothing has killed us yet.
Still, the sky smiles on the brave.
Still, have the strength to try and hold the sun in the palm of your hand, once more.
Still, ever burning.
Still, the most beautiful things come from beneath the ground.
Still, the light is cast from the darkest of places.
Still, we labour on under the cover of stars.
Still, we know the truth rides high in our chests.
Still, the world has yet to end, no matter how hard any of us try.
Still.
Until we are still.

Crappy Day

I heard on the news on a music radio station that Jaycee Lee Dugard's captors were sentenced to 467 years between them.

The hubby asked what it was about and, as I have read and seen quite a bit about the story, I filled him in and told him all about it.

The final item of crap in a crap-filled day.

I've had a bad day.

First, I woke up with the all-too-familiar realisation that I'd drunk too much last night.

After helping hubby get out the door (whole 'nother story, suffice to say he needs lots of support right now), I fell asleep and woke up at 20 minute to - just enough time to get washed, brushed and dressed and make it to my therapy appointment at 10 ... glancing at the clock while grabbing some coffee I noticed that, yup, it was 20 to 11, not 20 to 10!! Ahh!! And I have been so very strict with myself at not missing a single therapy appointment since I started this latest therapy in January.

Why is it that something that last week caused me to go into mind-numbing-I-can-only-moan-and-whimper-in-pain-and-sleep-for-three-hours, now makes me angry at myself when I miss a session?!?

Then my stomach has not been happy with me today (hmm, no clue why that might be ...).

And now it's that time of the month and I have really bad cramps in lower stomach and back - something I haven't had for the last 3 or so years ... ok, so maybe because for a lot of that time there was a significant lack of a menstrul cycle ... not impressed that the cramps have returned.

So by the end of today, when I'd been thinking too much about too many sh*tty things, including how messed up my family-of-origin is and how much I want my siblings to enjoy being the amazing aunts I know they would be when I have kids and that I want to be able to tell The Mother that she's going to be a grandma with no regrets ... but in reality, I know that the day I find out I'm pregnant, a new stage of this nightmare will begin.

You see, I've never confronted The Father about the abuse. Whether or not he's pretending he didn't do it and would never dream of admitting it, or whether he has managed to put it in a box and firmly shut the lid, concentrating on being the wonderful, wise, insightful, highly religious and devoted father that he fools everyone into beliving he is ... I don't know. Either way, he tries to act toward me like nothing ever happened.

I know that to many, many people, it is highly astounding that I have not cut my family off entirely. There is one huge reason why I haven't done that, even thought I have desperately want to and continue to long to do so at times.

I love my sisters very much. I care about them and their welfare. I can see all the abuse (not sexual in their case, but emotional, spirtual, physcological and financel) that they have been through with me, but they can't. I consoled myself when I moved out of that house and caused them a huge amount of pain and hurt, with promising myself that I was going to help them see the truth and get out one day, or at least to know some people their own age and were not people that simply worshiped The Father's religious ideals.

So my very real love for my sisters (formed through 21 years of being homeschooled, churched-at-home, having hardly any other friends and living in the same space 24/7 - we were absolutely everything to each other) and deep concern for their welfare, is what makes me hold on so tightly to keeping in contact with my family. Not an option 'till they tell me to my face that they never want to see or hear from me again. I pray that day never comes.

So how on earth amd I ever going to be able to explain to my siblings why The Father is not allowed to even TOUCH my kids?!? I don't want him holding them as babies or older, or holding their hand on a walk, or touching them to clean their face after dinner ... yuk!! It makes me feel sick just to think about it!

So as soon as the day (hopefully) comes when the hubby and I know we're going to have a child, that's the day we're going to have to confront The Father and tell him exactly where the lines are and what will happen if he crosses them.

And then what will happen?