GOING AWAY/REAL LIFE SERIES

This is the second in a series of  guest posts ......it's about real struggle..real life...real pain...and getting through to the other side....thank you to all my guests for helping me find my voice....This post is from a beautiful lady..who shares her heart through her writing and poetry...her poetry has touched me deep in my soul.....and she's here in this place to touch me again...

Please show Louise Hastings the love and encouragement you have to me.....

GOING AWAY

I want to give thanks to my very special friend for letting me guest post on her blog today. I have known Bonnie for a while now, and understand well the struggles and suffering she has been going through.

I too, have been on a journey of self discovery this last year or so, although I don't have DID, I have recently recovered from having therapy for depersonalization/DNOS, another form of dissociation disorder.

I guess I developed it through high stress and anxiety levels, and I learned how to 'go away' as a very young child.



 My upbringing was traumatic and disheveled at best, with a mother suffering from bipolar disorder (manic depression), and a depressive, controlling father. When I was four, mum had a nervous breakdown –
of the hallucinating, screaming abuse, being sectioned variety. I can still smell the fear I had when she was throwing the crockery at the wall. Not long after that, I developed a burst appendix and was rushed into hospital.




I survived, got through it all, but the damage was done, I had learned how to dissociate. My parents are not monsters, but they had no idea of how to bring up a child. I can always remember just wanting to leave as soon as I could. When I reached sixteen, I got out. I look back now on that sixteen year old child I was, and wonder how on earth they could of let me go. I knew nothing of the world really, or of how to look after myself.


I suppose I survived because I had to, did what I did because I felt I had no other choice. I managed to get jobs, somewhere to live, even traveled for a while. But I lived precariously, always on the edge of catastrophe. I shudder when I look back on my narrow escapes, my occasional homelessness. But I was lucky, there was always something or someone to help me out. I truly believe God was looking out for me during those times.

But I never went back, or go running to my parents again when things were out of hand. They would have been the last people in the world I would of gone to. And to this day I resent them bitterly, both for their lack of care and lack of love they showed me all those years growing up.

Eventually, everything caught up with me emotionally, and last year I suffered a breakdown. It was always on the cards I think, and it's easy for me to say now, that it was needed. Getting through therapy was very hard. It hurt, as I had to come to terms with all those feelings and emotions I had buried along the way in my struggles to survive. I never noticed my 'going away', it was




 something I did unconsciously when things got too tough for me to handle emotionally. It numbed everything, and I 'enjoyed', that spacey feeling I got in my head.
I didn't DO reality, I just disappeared into a dream world. It's not surprising that I got into scrapes, my emotions were all over the place. But through talking, medication and writing I got through those bad days.

So I'm here now, looking to a new future. I haven't really decided what I'm going to do with it yet, My job let me go due to ill health, so I'm unemployed. But it was my choice, I just decided not to go back. I need the freedom now to explore my options, explore the world, find out who I really am. I do this through writing. Poetry mainly, as my emotions seem to come out that way and I'm discovering more about myself every day. I'm choosing to live life MY way, nobody elses. I care a lot less than I used to about what people think of me.

I am very glad to know Bonnie, she was the first person I had 'met' who understood anything about this disorder. I wish her all the best in her healing, and I know that all the lovely comments she receives means a great deal to her.
Please keep going BB.




http://poeticdelusions.blogspot.com/#axzz1KyB35Qm0 <--------Check out where Louise writes...

http://poeticdelusions.wordpress.com/ <------- Her poetry ....

THE LONG CALLING/ REAL LIFE SERIES

This is the first of a series of  guest posts ......it's about real struggle..real life...real pain...and getting through to the other side....thank you to all my guests for helping my find my voice....this first post is from a new friend Stuart Nager.....Please show Stuart the love and encouragement you have to me.....

THE LONG CALLING

The phone at home just rang and rang. Not just in the morning. Not just in the afternoon. The entire day I was at work, doing a double shift, opening and closing the restaurant. Before cell phones, and no way other way of contact, I had to wait until the place was closed and all the night work was done.

One O’Clock in the morning, and racing up the NYS Thruway to get home, hoping all was all right. Thirty plus miles of worrying and fear.  Nothing was going to be OK for a long time. 

I walked into a fairly empty apartment. Her things were gone: books, chair, table, display case, music, clothes, etc. And..the kids. The kids room was empty of THEM. NO note. I called who I could call, and was ignored. I almost drove to one place, a place I THOUGHT (and later did find out was true) an affair was happening, but didn’t.  I was paralyzed, on the phone, on the floor, calling.

I woke my friends up, all around the country, to cry, scream, beg..and no one, of course, could do anything. We were, at best, hours and hours away from each other. The entire night consisted of my going around the apartment, looking to see what was missing, heading into the kids room and sitting on my son’s bed and crying. Then heading to the phone again and again. Up all night. 

Got a call early in the morning. One of her friends called to tell me the children were fine, etc. She had been taking money from our account (which is why checks bounced, phone calls kept coming in, etc) and had an apt. No, she would not tell me where. She hung up, not talking, just talking at me.

So..no way could I go to work. I was truly in the grips of depression and despair.  Things snowballed from there. I really was a walking Zombie for well over a month: I could not tell you now a thing that happened during that period.  Our marriage was over, I did see the kids, etc..but, more than that? Nada.

 
She got re-married two months after our divorce was finalized. Found out that she not only cheated on me with the guy she married, but had at least one affair before that with someone else. The person who told me this said she gloated about it, how oblivious I was.

It took me many years to get over trust issues with women, and I’m still fighting some of my fears of being so hurt and devastated. 



What helped?

 My friends, my support group. Who let me rant and repeat my rants again and again, until I was exhausted from them, and was able to bit by bit move on. Going on a lot of casual dates helped in one way, but I was sabotaging them with my self-pity and moaning.  It was good to know I could “get” a date, but I suffered for the aftermath of still not connecting.

So, here’s a story that’s sad and true, about a divorced dad whose name is Stu..
his wife fooled around and left him one day…
but his life is better off that way….






 Hey...check out Stuarts writing at these awesome sites......

www.bornstoryteller.wordpress.com/        <-----artist in education blog

www.stuartnager.wordpress.com/              <------ writing blog

www.bornstoryteller.com                           <---- website
 

UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

I'm not closing down the blog...just things are getting out of control for me...

though I understand a lot..and have incredible knowledge I do not know how to apply that knowledge to myself....





I was on a journey with Z and it had gotten intense..I was moving.. things started happening fast...but I was moving.. and then it all stopped...and it seems to have colored my world and still is......

I lost that space ..that place where I could breathe..and I can't seem to find it again..and I'm scared I never will find it again....
I have all this stuff inside that is yearning to get out and I don't know how to do that now without a place to retreat to and breathe..
when it got bad really... bad ...I had a place to call safe.. a place to breathe and rest....safe....

I can't get there now....everything is colored by the voice (Z)...and knowing in reality he is not here to get me out.....stops me from the rest......
though I have Z as a friend ..the voice is not the same....

the voice on the tape brings tears instead of peace.....
I have gotten to my safe except it hasn't had the same feelings surrounding it.. the safe isn't there..I have gotten stuck with no way out....my visual is different...

Z thought that it was all focused on him the person.. but it wasn't ..it was his voice....he didn't understand when I said when you leave..everything goes with you.. I tried to explain it.. I knew what I was in for..but he didn't get it....

I did....

at the beginning with P... I was able to cry and grieve.....memories with Z were up front and I was able to talk about it.. cry it out...and I came to a place with P that I was able to share stuff ....even some stuff I never shared with Z.....
was scary but at least it was happening..

Now I have come to a place of silence...where I can see stuff when I look out the window but I can't speak it.. I can't speak anything I am thinking....I feel so trapped within myself..and I'm angry and frustrated cause all it's doin is hurting me more....
I can't exist the way I am now....

I felt tears today with P..but I couldn't find the words...I couldn't find my voice...mainly because there are so many talking inside..I don't know where my voice is...I don't understand what is happening inside..and I don't know how to control it.....
even though P says it's ok just to sit ..and be silent..etc.. it's not ok to me..or for me....
I wish I could just let the tears come...
let the words out......
find my voice....

So BONGO IS ME is here......

but it's gonna change.....

we are under new management ....

Maybe you can help me......
help me find my voice.....


As always.....

YUP SHE'S DONE

Ever have so much goin on that ....that you just need to stop..take a break...shut down.....
yup..I'm there...

It's like looking at my filthy house....and it's so bad you don't know where to start..and then you just give up cause it's so overwhelming.....
yup...I'm there....

Even writing..like what the fuck do I write? where do I start..there's just so much swirling around..I can't find a beginning or an end....

I mean so much stuff has gone on the last couple of weeks.....my grandson turned 3...and we had a visit.....Easter came and went....my baby girl turned 21 ...I let the elephant move to another room...I had contact with Z......I've been locked in my bedroom almost 3 weeks...I'm keeping Kleenex in business.....I've seen P ..tooooooo much.....I've been on the edge..the very edge.....I'm broke......gas is $4.09 a gallon.......

Soooooo I went to see P today..not that...that's new...and seems Bongo was out to play.....
I'm crying before I go....
cryin when I leave...and say nothing while I'm there....
and then proceed to beat myself up for it...

I seem to have a talent for shutting down at the wrong times.....I have all this stuff...swirling around and bubbling ..boiling in a pressure cooker ready to explode..... the cook is there stirring all the ingredients...trying to put together the meal....
and WHAMMMMM.....
the stove dies....
the pressure cooker settles.....
and nada..nothing...zilch...

Z had asked are you "tip toeing" and I said no I'm not...and that was true .. I wasn't ..
but .....but......
something has changed...


I said too much...she got too close..and now and I have to shut down the tears ..shut down the words...
I've been here before...the noise inside the silence outside...
The fears out in front....my lips not moving.. the feelings trapped inside with the words...
the darkness sneaks in and suffocates us.....eating us alive inside....




again I saw P today again the stuff swirling around and again silence...
we're feeling alone..we're feeling scared....
the trust is there..it is building..I don't know what's goin on.......
there's so much....
I need a begining thread to start......I need the knots of the web untied....
the longer it sits the worse in gets ..the web just more and more tangled...the words the thoughts the feeling need to get out..

how????

How do you trust the words and feelings to the receiver..how do I know I'm not making yet another mistake of letting someone else in......
the hurt is too big.......
and then to be left again..abandoned...alone...
to have found safe....to have it taken away.....to try and find it again.....
to be abandoned again and  again...
It hurts ...I can't do it..I just wanna be done...

just done...


Just wanna stop all the feeling..

stop talkin..

stop therapy.....

go away..

be done...

KNOCK, KNOCK WHO'S THERE?

SOOOOO something new...something exciting...something scary as hell...My wonderful awesome friend is helping me share some knowledge about the elephant, who I have here right beside me.....sharing some knowledge that hopefully will help you see me and  for me not to be afraid to be seen....My friend..JESSICA BRANT...The author of FINDING ONE'S WAY...has gone way out of her way and comfort zone to help me with this......I thank her for helping me share this..and love her more then she will ever know........

KNOCK, KNOCK WHO'S THERE?

Some say the more you hear these dumb jokes the funnier you will find them.

Well I’m here to tell you this post is not about Knock, Knock Jokes.

I have a friend that I Skype with all the time instead of saying “what’s up or what’s going on?” I say Knock, Knock.

Who’s There?

That’s because I am never sure who is going to greet me when I come calling on her.

For a long time now I have been speaking to Bongo Girl and I know when I am speaking with Bonnie, the fun loving, smiling, caring one who would never say a curse word. Bongo Girl, is the hard ass, crazy bitch who tells you how it is and never candy coating a damn thing and has no challenges saying a swear word or two. And then there is sweet little Sammy better know as Sam I Am, a 9 year-old scared, often dirty and ashamed little girl who only wants to be loved, be heard, understood and not abandoned, she the one who steps in when everyone has given up and wants to “go away”. That is when all three facets of her personality retreat deep within and all that remains is the scared little girl.

Some of you know her, some of you may not. If you know her then you know who I am talking about and 10 to 1 you love her just as I do. If you don’t know her I will tell you. I am talking about Bonnie Panter-Gayadeen writer of Bongo Is Me. Who has suffered from a disorder called DID better know as Dissociative Identity Disorder formally known as MPD Multiple Personality Disorder.

I have spent a lot of time Skyping with Bonnie, Bongo Girl, and Sam I Am. I have seen Bonnie transform into Bongo Girl before my very own eyes. It is a subtle change that most of you would miss. Unless you really know Bonnie or were looking for a transformation to happen you would never know. Bonnie will lower her head and slowly lift and raise her head with her eyes closed and whip her head back. She will stay with her eyes closed and her head back for several second and then whamo, Bongo Girl will appear.

When she switches from Bonnie to Bongo she appears disconnected from reality other times she comes out roaring to go and in rare form. I know when Sammy is going to appear because Bongo seems to step in, to take over for Bonnie when Bonnie cannot deal with, or handle what is going on around her. Bongo becomes dependent on people she trusts to keep her from slipping away from reality. When no one is around to help her ride the wave of emotions that are popping up Bongo tends to disappear with Bonnie and Sam I Am is the only one left.

I have not had the pleasure of seeing Sam I Am but I have spoken to her through text chatting many times. I am always gentle when I am speaking with her because she is so afraid of everything and everyone around her. There are times I wish I was able to beam to the place she is, so I can save that precious little girl. She is a timid, shy, and a scared little girl, who is so afraid of being unloved, abandoned, and shunned for speaking out. Sammy is the one who holds all of Bonnie’s childhood abuse memories.

Here are some questions that she has received via emails and a few personal ones that I have asked her myself.

Question: Isn’t MPD really just a way for people to get attention?

Answer: It is often thought that MPD is a sham, a bizarre form of “play-acting” that is perpetrated by manipulative, attention-seeking individuals. It is not. MPD is a “disorder of hiddeness” wherein 80-90% of MPD patients do not have a clue that they are “multiple.” Most know that there is something wrong with them; many fear that they are crazy– but few know that they are multiple.(healthyplace.com)

Question: What triggers your personalities to appear?

Bonnie Answer: in all honesty I do not know…it could be a smell , a picture, a touch…..anything…holidays like tomorrow Easter is a trigger

Question: Do you fear it might happen while driving?

Bonnie Answer: I fear that all the time..and it has happened more then once….just last night I found myself in a parking lot at 3 in the morning and I don’t remember leaving my bed…

Question: Do you know what makes Sam I am appear?

Bonnie Answer: No I don’t……sometimes I’m aware ..sometimes not….but if I’m (Bonnie) overwhelmed I can go deep inside…..(dissociate) and someone else is out….Bongo is a protector…she keeps us safe..while Sam is the one with the memories….she’s really just a scared little girl…..

Question: What are your triggers?

Bonnie Answer: It could be words, visuals or smells. Easter candy brings me to a place that I wont return for a while, poems that have cords bring back images of being restrained and tied down unable to move subject to my tormentors will.

Question: Should people shy away from you when you are in transition of bring triggered, are there things they should avoid that will make you go further away?

Bonnie Answer: If I am triggered I am not aware that I am going away. I can’t be touched while I am being triggered unless I am in a trusting environment,but I am not always aware of it happening.

Question: How does it make you feel when people are all poor baby and feel sorry for you?

Bonnie Answer: I hate when people fucken feel sorry for me. I just want them to see me for who I am and if they don’t wanna get it, get out of my fucken life. I can’t stand when people tell me to get over it. If one more person tells me that I think I will chop their fucken head off. I feel guilt for saying that but it is the truth, and that is all I can speak.

People don’t understand the dynamics of living with DID. Bonnie and I would like to open up a discussion where you can ask freely any questions you may have surrounding her disorder and people like her living with multiple personalities. More than anything Bonnie, Bongo and Sam I Am, would like your understanding acceptance and questions. PLEASE DON’T BE AFRAID TO ASK ANY QUESTIONS SHE WILL NOT BREAK.
 

We want to try and shed some light on the subject for those of you who do not full understand what this is like for people such as Bonnie.

TO BE SAVED

Holidays...have always been difficult....they are a reminder....
many holidays especially when they fell on weekends we would be with our father.....
which meant when we were young we would be at the grandmothers house.....
which was where any abuse took place.....




as I grew and had my own kids..I purposely tried to change what holidays were...
I wanted my kids to have good memories.
but even though I was watching them have a good time..and celebrating on the outside....
inside I was thrown back in hell.....

I think I did a good job making it fun for the kids..at least I think I did.....so I feel I at least I changed it for them..gave them something to look back at with a smile.......

but it has never changed for me.....

I dread each and every holiday....
Today as I read facebook streams..

.•°*”˜˜”*°•.ƸӜƷ.•°*”˜˜”*°•.
░H░A░P░P░ Y░ ░E░A░S░T░E░R░
░W░E░E░K░E░N░D░
¸.•°*”˜˜”*°•.ƸӜƷ.•°*”˜˜”*°•.

go to a store and see decorations....certain candies.....pictures etc...

I am sent back in my mind to a horrific place..
where I am again a child waiting for the savoir who rises this weekend.....







I am again seeing the pictures and feeling the feelings as if it were happening right here right now...
Still waiting for someone to...
hear me..
see me..

save me....




a happy time where children should play and sing....
open their presents...
eat their chocolate...
be held by moms and dads....
know that they are loved and safe...
I can't see he happy on these days....
I run and hide away......
the only way I know to be safe.....

As always.........

INSiDE

BE GENTLE WITH US

I've been flooded I've been lost.....I have bits and pieces from days lost..

I just cant handle this stuff...P says it's processing ..but to me it's hell...I don't remember a time like this...

I have been flooded before..in nightmares and flashbacks ..but don't remember losing time or being so lost before....

I have talked about graphic material with Z before..many times over the last year..but never reacting for this amount of time or in this way....

Sam has never been this active..for that matter she has been hidden....as are others.......


I'm scared ...damn scared...more then ever.....
I know we went to the beach in P's office......but don't remember what was there....

Z's voice was close then far away.....and I remember little after......
I miss Z so much....and am thankful for even the little contact I have had with him....there is so much that is mixed up still..so many questions un answered....and I'm wishing I could have the answers...not sure if I ever will have them though......


 
I'm realizing that what was burned was not truly done.... I think I thought if we burned it that day that it would be done...only I rushed it myself and thought I could get away with it....'





therapy truly is hell..
I'm not even sure what it really is.anymore ...
talking and talking just to be in a worse place..


I talked about ..or I should say I wrote out my worst memory for Z..and then we had that extended session that was a bust..but later that day I saw Z again and told him the memory .....but we went and burned it but never talked about it again.. it was right after that I shut down...

all we talked about was his leaving....we never processed anything ...it then became all about him leaving... fears I couldn't talk about and how I was going to let go...

I tried to tell him what I believed I was losing... he seemed to think I had him on some kind of pedestal.. and never quite understood... it wasn't totally about him.. it was about his voice was associated to everything safe.... and when he left..his voice left as was my ability to get anywhere safe...my tape was my grace...it allowed me to have his voice and in that still get to my safe place...
but I knew in reality he wasn't here...therefore he could not get me out when I got stuck...

with working with P I am seeing more and more what is happening now and why...and using my tape is hurting more then helping.....
my feelings are so mixed up about the whole thing....everything that is goin on is surrounded by my work with Z and his voice.. how can something that is so good be bringing on so much bad...

I have never been in the place I am now.. and I feel more lost then ever.....not knowing who or what I am....
I was always so afraid of "popping"as I call it that when it really happened it sent me into a tailspin....one that I can't seem to get out of.....I have popped....the switch was flipped...
Now P is here trying to untie the knot I got into....

As much as I love Z ..he is irritating me... because he is shutting down anything and everything clinical.. and is not available to help with any of this....and he could help...even a little....
therapy can be a great help to some .. but sometimes it goes awry....and can truly screw up what's already screwed up....
so here I am ...
somewhere between the beginning and the end....
not sure of where or who I am at any one point...

Please when you see...
Bongo....Bonnie...or Sam....

please  be gentle....with us



As always..........

THE ANGELS WILL COME (TRIGGER WARNING)

the squirrels are playing outside the window...back and forth they run and play..
up and down the branches they go....
we watch not feeling a thing.....

the ropes so tight our ankles hurt....the green box makes noise when he opens it...
the sun goes down the night  creeps in....

can't see the squirrels......




up above the light thing there...it takes us far way where the safe is found...


don't cry little girl this is special for you....don't say a word...don't you cry...






the things inside they pound and they're sharp......
my fingers they tingle they are falling asleep ....
his breath like vomit...the weight we can't breathe...
the smell of the moth balls makes us cough..





pretty girl pretty girl this is all for you...
some day it will make babies slip through...
don't cry precious baby girl it will just mean it will hurt you more....
stare at the light ..
take us away.....
pray to god..
let us die this day...
it pulls and it tears ..
we don't feel a thing....
soon it will be done....

the angels will come..........

I HOPE YOU CAN FIND US

We're in a place nobody's been...

we're in a place that nobody can go....

.a place deep with in our minds...

we have no visitors..

no one's allowed....

.these are the secrets with it...

Sometimes it's morning one minute and night the next...

we don't know where the time went..

and no one seems to tell us....

we're just left with questions and open spaces....

this is what it is like inside me...

we remember pieces of conversations ..,,but not the whole...

sometimes we remember faces.....

but not the when... 

but not the where....

Even time spent in theraists office....

we can't recall....

and sometimes we don't want to remember....

We have been in weird space...losing large amounts of time.....if not for written words we would not know where we have been.....

there are thoughts and pictures in our mind like a movie ...trying to pick out fantasy and reality....

someone say we're ok....please say we are not crazy....

we feel as if we are losing our mind....

doesn't matter what you say.. 

feels as it does.. 

it's like the storm comes she you go hide in the corner till it passes and awaken in the night..

the light is gone..

and you don't know what happened while the storm was brewing.....

We feel we said too much.....

fear the pain.....

the secrets come out ...

we get in trouble...

it was not finished...

it was cut off and we gave up....

now it's all there trying to purge from with in......

when we can't handle the movie.. 

we run away......

we go deep inside and hide away for the day..

though the days become longer.....

until there's no light.....

and when we return the darkness appears...

and we can not find our way....

we are not safe when we are in this place...

I hope you can find us ...

I hope you look....

or here is where we stay....

far far away....

As always....................