Monthly Archives: February 2015

Old Guitar


This morning my oldest red-head discovered something under my bed.  She had a guitar pic in her hand, and a huge smile on her face.

She said, “Mom, I found something to make music!”

My old guitar is something I always wanted to feel comfortable playing, but couldn’t get around feeling so self conscious about it.  The best way to describe how I felt was incredible excitement combined with an equal amount of fear.  The old guitar is more than twenty years old.  It has a cracked bridge, but other than that it seems to play ok.  Since Red #1 found it, I thought maybe it was time to tune it and practice a few chords.  The tips of my fingers hurt – no more callouses to strengthen the finger tips.

The girls loved listening to the strings make music while I pressed certain chords for them.

I am sure one of my alters can play the guitar better than I can.  Josie is much more comfortable expressing herself. There is some thing preventing me from being comfortable expressing myself.  Playing music connects with a deeper part of myself, the part that says “Let ME do it!” and “I’m better than you.”  It is a part that wants to break past all the walls, and say heck with the rules!

But, I can not allow it.  I don’t know how to allow her to express herself.  I have not figured out how to let my alters out without the use of the trigger.  It seems I am always aware now that I know about them.  I don’t want to let go.  I am scared of my free will being mis-used and abused even though I am around people who are loving and trusting.

A funny thing I remember:  I had these two stickers of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Michael the Archangel.  I thought it would be neat to put them on my guitar case.  My “BFF” who was also in the “group” persuaded me not to put them on the case.  This particular bff was a guy friend of mine who I believe became my handler.  He played a part in making sure I got to certain appointments or rituals.  I believe Josie, as a part of this group of satanists played guitar on occasion.  So, having the Queen of Heaven and the angel who put the devil in hell on my guitar case probably was something they wouldn’t like.

I laugh at that irony.

Anyhow, maybe I can try letting Josie play a few chords, too.  🙂

Princess Power!


Over the past week I took one daughter at a time to the store to pick up a doll.  Daughter G, who is 7 years old now, picked out the Princess Power Barbie doll with the blue hair.  Blue is her favorite color.  G is a sweetie, she reminds me of myself as a kid.  She is quiet and thoughtful.  She doesn’t have the same problem with socializing with others like I had growing up.  That is beautiful because I know she has never been abused.  She is growing and maturing just the way God created her.  Sometimes I wonder how I would have turned out had our family never moved so close to my uncle, but that is pointless to think about.

Anyway, at the store we looked at several Barbie dolls.  You know what, I felt giddy inside.  I’m sure that was Emily (my little girl alter).  It was nice to know she was present.  She has been hiding a lot.  Well, part of the problem is that even though she is quiet I have a hard time in general identifying who’s who in my mind.  I hear their comments often enough, but I heard them my whole life and always took ownership of the thoughts myself.  So, now I have to reassess where they are coming from and who is who.

Emily is a sweet little girl, but she seems to be very intellectual also – like she is the younger self but also has a more mature intellectual self and I am not sure if that is a separate person, or if it is still her.  Maybe one is her protector since she is extremely shy and wants to live in her familiar shell.

I believe the most recent recollection of feeling compassion and wanting to change my own situation and other kids’ situations but failing and then making things worse for everybody opened up the vault for taking the risk to love others again.  Empathy and sympathy may be the key for connecting with Emily.

Pic of the doll:

Connecting the Dots, emotional memory past and present


For the last week or so things have been so intense emotionally!  We have six daughters, so there is no shortage of emotions in this house!  Plus, we have one on the way – so I am an absolute hormonal wreck!  For the most part the problem is due to pregnancy just intensifying how I feel to an extreme.  So, I decided to go back on Zoloft, which I had all but stopped taking for about 6 months.  However, the pharmacy decided not to fill my prescription!  On the way to my doctor appointment this morning I was going over various thoughts on how to convince the pharmacy or insurance company to fill the stupid meds so I can stop feeling suicidal or at least wishing I was never born.  My doc wrote a new prescription and told me other patients have had similar problems at this pharmacy and he suggested a different place to try.

The last few weeks I have been overwhelmed by the feeling that I just have no impact on the kids.  It doesn’t matter what tactic I use or how I try to pull myself together mentally and remain “calm and assertive” – It just doesn’t seem to phase the kids.  I have been sinking lower and lower every day feeling as though there is no point in trying anymore to form these kids into well behaved children.  They just seem way too strong for my broken mind.  And here I am, overcome by our two and three year old girls.  I become weaker and weaker the more I see how weak I am.

I seem to have no affect on the kids!

Then, usually against my thought train, my husband helps me to see this is more than just parenting strong-willed kids.  I am still remembering what happened 20-30 years ago.  It seems that for me – I relive the emotional effects of the experiences which I have not yet remembered before getting the actual memory.  What I wind up doing is justifying how I feel by using my daily experiences to explain why I am feeling so pointless or angry or whatever.  It can be difficult, because it really is difficult to be experiencing such extreme feelings due to memories bubbling up, or just trying to understand that there really are several different parts of me speaking out, trying to understand and hear what my other’s are saying while trying to raise a family.  There are so many reasons for me to feel like the worst mom in the world – oh the humility of it all.

Regardless of how bad it can get, I still keep holding on…

Usually after asking myself “why” and, “how can God sit back when I am suffering so much” I seem to squeak out a mental prayer.  Hope seems to help calm me down, I think really that is God’s grace giving me strength to keep holding on a little bit longer.
I just keep holding on.

About a year ago or so my husband and I were able to successfully use hypnosis to work on recovering memories and cleaning the mental cobwebs.  However, lately I have not been able to relax and focus enough so we kinda let hypnosis slide for a while.  After another seemingly failed attempt at hypnosis last night with my husband I woke up this morning and understood what had been going on and why I felt so strongly that I could not make any impact on myself or anyone around me.  It is something I have read about other people experiencing, however, even after everything I have remembered already, this had not been a part of the equation until now.  It goes back to the programming/brainwashing the evil people do (I just call the abusers evil people).  They made me watch someone else or some animal get abused and tortured while I was restrained and unable to do anything about what was going on right in front of me.  Then if I had tried to make a move and save or even lessen what was going on that only caused more punishment on top of the abuse or torture.

This has had a major impact on who I am.  I do not believe that I can make a difference in the world, on myself or anything around me unless it is necessary or ordered.  Even then I need another adult to hold my hand through whatever it is that needs to be done.

So, this morning came this understanding: I am not meant to sit back and do nothing in life.  I am meant to make a difference.  It is the Devil’s influence and those evil people who did this to me by their own free will.  They need to STOP the good people in the world from making a positive difference!  I understood more presently that my life is much more than I think it is.  I understood how my intense emotions did not have so much to do with disobedient toddlers as it does have to do with my past.

Until now, I felt like I had kind of hit a brick wall.  Unable to make progress or recover I have been left to sink into my pits of internal hell.  I knew that even though I knew enough to accept or come as far as we have on our yellow brick road, I didn’t know enough to really break out of this person I have become as a result of the programming and evil in my life.  It seems easier for my others/alters to grow, learn, and change, than it is for me.  Being unable to progress had begun to eat away at any hope I had for becoming the person I have seen myself to be in the future.

My fear of success is really a fear of making a change or having a strong positive impact on someone or something.  This means if I move forward from this point I can really make a major difference.  I am excited, but scared.  There is a lot of work to do.  This has been an area where I have been extremely resistant – maybe just not ready for approaching until now.

Finally, some prayers have been answered.  I had to be ready, to reach a certain point or thought process in order to trigger this.  Although I am still very drained emotionally, and still have very depleated levels of hope and faith (charity too – maybe this whole thing is why I could never grow in charity?) there is enough of a spark because this connection was made to be able to become stronger again.

I thank Jesus for sharing His mother with me and being my brother.  Depression can really make it hard to retain hope.  It can be so painful to ask again for God’s help after sinking so low again and again and again.  Somehow things do get better.  Now, I need to remember this for tomorrow!!

Poetry #9


Pour down rain on me

Steam my feet

Make me bleed

Wash away my inhibition

Pierce my skin

Peal me apart

Cry my tears

Kiss my wounds

Seal my body

Wear my clothes

Undress my self

Breath my breath

Paint my skin

Clothe my body

Touch me lovingly

Pour down rain on me

***Thoughts on this one?

This is either my DID alter relating to myself or the process of abuse – the wounds, the healing, the trust and lack of***

Angels Are Around Us


Angels are supernatural beings created by God to give guidance and support during rough times.  They also may protect you from physical dangers.  Angels love you because they love God.  The angels were created by God before the creation of man.  After the creation and fall of man in the Garden of Eden, God saw fit to provide each human being with an angel to guard him or her from various dangers both spiritual and corporeal from the point of conception.  These angels provide light from God, they are a sort of “middle man” so to speak.  They are messengers, you may even perceive them as personal assistants in life.

All spirits communicate without the use of physical senses or parts.  Angels and other spirits communicate telepathically or mind-to-mind.  It is very easy to communicate with your own Guardian Angel.  You may simply say or think “Jesus” and it will fill your angel with joy.  Saying God’s name tells your angel you are thinking about God in a positive manner, this also gives your angel more hope for you.  The angel gives glory to God and becomes closer to you.  You can speak with your angel vocally or in thought.  When using thought to communicate it is important to address your guardian angel first.  I find this way more effective.  It also helps to find a quiet place to meditate prayerfully when you want to get closer to your angel.  You may want to go to a church and pray or contemplate God which means just sitting or kneeling there thinking about God.  It also is a good idea to tell God you are sorry for hurting Him.  This opens up your soul to receiving His medicine which is His endless Mercy.  God is more understanding and forgiving than any of us could possibly imagine!  As you open your soul up to God’s healing grace, your guardian angel will be able to communicate with you more clearly.

Psalms 90:11
For he hath given his angels charge over thee; to keep thee in all thy ways.


No Title Poetry #1


It has been a very long time since I’ve really written any poetry.  The previous poem “A voice in the fog” is the first one I have written in probably 14 years.  Every so often I will publish some of my older poems.  The stuff that was written ‘way back when’ I can see now contains clues to DID – or at least to memories I was hiding.

There are stars on the face

Of a person in a place

Where the darkness replaces

The light by the shades.

It is extraordinary how

They glow and shine

in a spot so

Dark and divine.

***I am certain now this poem relates directly to the candle light on faces during rituals in the middle of the night.

Writing is cathartic


Writing is cathartic.

For the past couple weeks we couldn’t use our computer because the monitor broke and we had to wait a little bit before buying a new one.  I did make use of my spiral notebook and wrote – usually when I became so emotional and angry that I couldn’t take it anymore.

Actually, my husband ordered a gift online.  I was shocked to discover what it was.  It was a coloring book for survivors of child abuse.  Personally, my alter system enjoys it.  As I color and think about the points the author is making it really opens my mind to strengthening our selves inside.  I found very little about it to be offensive.  I couldn’t even find much relating to the spiritual aspect she mentions.  I am just glad there aren’t any “Peace” symbols which are everywhere these days!  Okay, I did find one on a coloring page – oh well.  The peace symbol in reality means “Death to All” in satanism – fyi.  Anyway, there is certainly something to how the brain works.  I know that when I do things that work the brain a certain way, it gives my others the ability to deal with life or just catch up, too.  This is true for handwriting, drawing, artwork, even the crocheting I do is a medium for my others.

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A voice in fog


Whether this weathered world resides

inside of me or only lies

Through the dim fog I feel

around for any thing that’s real

but when I do touch reality

The fog encloses around me

I am so close to the clearing

Still this fog keeps me fearing

and doubting my sanity

Then the voice makes it through

Just as unsure of what to do

A voice in the fog I’ve never heard before

As clear as muffled talking through a door

Like one that is heard in the wilderness

But yet not seen I am convinced

The voice of a person bound

Out of sight, the lost unfound

Do I go towards the clearing?

Or turn back in the fog to find the voice I’m hearing?