SHARDS OF GLASS & THAT SORT OF THING

Planet Boulder continues to go on with its slow pace, I included.  The weather changes make the drive calming and quiet. Chat session was as usual as his style and predictability goes. I gave him a print out of this: http://www.webdiva.org/straight/docs/pi.htm which had upset me the day before I came in.  Straight Inc. was a horrible hell for me and this was a new site I had never seen before.  My parents had to answer these questions, having never done any of the questions posed to them about my involvement about drugs or behavior, how in the hell did I ever end up in that hell hole?  My parents have lied all of my life. 

The websites don’t discuss the mid seventies as much when I was imprisoned – 1978.  But the abuse was harsh, no air conditioning, bath room breaks twice a day, 9:00 A.M. to 9:00 – 9:30 P.M. There were no exercise periods. I slept a lot, hoping not to be hit to wake me up.  No one knows how to work with me on this.  After reading that and some of the links I fell a little.  I woke up at two in the morning after taking Ambien and extra Xanax feeling trapped.  The past two days after my husband goes to work at 1:30 P.M., I draw the drapes and the blinds in the house and crawl into bed hiding from I don’t know what.  I’ve been fighting cutting my face, arms, neck and what ever else to hurt myself.  My head has that white noise, probably from chat session.  Another self-destructive behavior – I fight the urge to cut my hair all over.  Luckily Enemy #1 worked with that.  Today is the first day I am leaving the house open and will try to get back on my schedule.

We have art therapy set up before I go to chat session on Tuesday.  I really, really do not want to go.  Planet Boulder is still in the Hippie era. There is nothing wrong with that, I just do not want to go to an art studio and mentally be analyzed for an hour and a half.  I wrote to Enemy to relay to the M.A., LPC instructor that I do not want to use paint or anything that I have to touch or to do with water.  I hope this is not met with hostility.  My alters are colors.  I cannot allow anyone to touch them.  I do not know if anyone will understand that. Welcome to my crazy world.  My husband is so sweet and smiles when I tell him that I just want to use shards of glass and electrical wire.  He suggests I continue with my puzzles.

I want Enemy to challenge me with color.  I am given a sketch pad during chat session and use only one colored pencil, not my color’s.  I don’t use it every session.  That is when I wish he would push me. 

I want to use shards of glass, I want to feel the shards glass with my fingers and hands.

I need to feel once again, to see myself in the reflections of the shards of glass.

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs_SO486PfA

 

 

RED SKIES
As I walk beside the broken
Look around at shards of glass at my feet.
As I watch, my eyes are open
To the hearts against the beat
Crying vainly to God,
Trying to break free

And I am lonely,
In the solitude of one who is enlightened.
And in that solitude,
I cry out with those in pain
As it rains at my feet,
I hear your voice cry out

Don’t leave me, Don’t strand me
Don’t lose your voice against the crowd
And I hear you and whisper
If you love me so it shall be.

As I walked among the broken,
I lost sight of all I loved,
Except that voice of yours which cut into my soul and led me out from the dark

And we walk side by side, fearing neither night nor day,
For we won’t lose each other to the horrors of the stray.
And I’ll not lose your voice again.

For the lonely are the broken,
And the shards of glass their broken dreams.
Here beside you I am whole again
And I need no other light.
I fear no red skies.

Walk beside me here forever
And we needn’t heed the broken glass
Or the lonely or the broken
Or the rhythm out of beat

So just call me and I’ll hold you,
Safe and warm against the tide and the tempest
With you in my arms, and with your hand in mine,
I’m free.

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About crystallball7

Creative,some say "eccentric", dark sense of humor,sensitive. Never the same for too long. Running from lost time. Longing to be on the beach, at the ocean, New England. Afraid of life, extremely afraid of life.
This entry was posted in alter's/colors, art therapy?, bipolar disorder, D.I.D., dissociative identity disorder, mental health, Mental Illness, MPD, multiple personality disorder, psychology, psychotherapy, "The Enemy",psychologist, Straight Inc. and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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