just need to

i want to write small because i feel small and bad and stupid for saying this. for harping on it. for making it a big deal. for saying too much about it. for talking about it too much. for just everything i’m not supposed to do. for everything i’m not supposed to be.

for talking about it and proving it isn’t true for saying too much about it. for being a baby about it. for making too big a deal out of it and so it just proves how untrue and unreal and how much we just want attention and we’re being melodramatic about it all. for just again, for just being. for just everything bad that pores from our cellular body and just spreads everywhere around us.

for just.. just… oh how i must stop now. try to express this and precursor it so that people know we know. so that we have said it and that those of us that are going to say it, so that the others know we know it. that we haven’t forgotten. that we know it. and we’re going to say it and be bad anyway.

just this memory has gotten a hold of us. a hold ahold what is the spelling and word we’re looking for. and shit, i said, “memory.” it’s not. it’s not. it’s just a stupid fucking story. nothing else. but yet tears escaped. emotion escaped from nowhere or i guess really somewhere.

we can’t just cry tears anytime we want. we can’t. we can’t even cry or have tears come even when we want to or need to. and yet there are those times where tears escape from some place unexpectedly and they are there. so there must be something to this story. more than just empathy. or maybe it is empathy and just sadness for a story that isn’t true about this body, about “us.” but that’s stretching things and denial a bit i guess. but how can you say you’re in denial if you’re really in denial? does that make sense to anyone?? so of course if you say you’re in denial (which means you can’t really be in denial) then of course it isn’t really true and it didn’t really happen and it’s just some whacky fucked up thing your brain is screwing with you on because your brain is just screwed up and has some need to fuck with your head and try to make you believe something is true when it isn’t.

it’s just this knowledge of this story has seeped so far inside to what seems like so many inside. it feels worse than a “normal” memory in a way because at least if it was a “normal” memory it would be ‘forgotten’ again and lost within again. it would seep back inside with the insider who holds the memory and the insider will probably be that much harder to ever access again. maybe. like we can think of a few insiders who’ve shared their pain and memories and stuff with Wendy over the years. but so much of what’s happened to them is forgotten, is lost inside, or rather it has disappeared back inside with them when they went back inside somewhere. what’s left is mostly their name (if they gave one) or some vague awareness memory that someone was there and shared something, but what was shared is so forgotten. it might be somewhere in some letter to Wendy about it or some journal or some email to our email group about it. but where it is, who knows. of course it is on a therapy tape recording some where, but who knows about the quality of it–if it can be deciphered.

as we’ve written the last 3/4 of the above paragraph, i noticed the right eye spasming. weird. wonder if it means anything. stuff like this half the time i don’t notice. don’t pay attention to. but trying to be more aware of the body. little things like this– seems like maybe it is important or might mean something or maybe not.

so really why are we writing this. we’re writing to say that this story, this memory, this whatever it is, is just really encompassing the brain. yes, it’s in the far reaches of the thoughts. but it’s there. it feels like it is there constantly in the back of the mind. the area where factual knowledge resides. like the sun is out today. stuff that often is passed along with many inside for awareness purposes if they come near the front. it doesn’t happen that way for everyone. i guess really it depends– it depends on whether they have an awareness of “today” or not and how far seeped in trauma and a memory they are in as to whether they know. but even still, sometimes it seems like if they come outfront, even after their disorientation, that something inside works to orient them to some of this shared basic knowledge info. i don’t know how it all works really. i just know that somehow this info has been placed or stored or is sitting in a really shared area that holds the basic info that we’re all “supposed to” know in order to “pass as normal and singleton and not bring attention to ourselves for not knowing.”

and this memory, this story, this whatever is sitting on our heart so deeply. it also is in the further depths of the heart and emotions, but yet, it is still there, constantly weighing on us.

yes, it can be pushed away to some degree, dissociated to some degree, but it hurts like hell and it’s there and we don’t know what to do with it. don’t know how to cope with it. too many of us know. it keeps staying with us. it isn’t going away anywhere. it sits there with the knowledge info that we’ve accused the father of sexual abuse. that we’ve confronted the father in the past. that we say (sometimes at least and some of us at least) that we were ritually abused by others. that we also say none of that is true at the same time. all that knowledge, that information, those words. that’s it. it doesn’t matter that there isn’t any real true “normal memory” with this info of visual, hearing, emotion (or selected emotional segments). it’s just words. knowledge. facts. things believed. things not believed.

it’s just not the same as other insider’s memories that stay with them only or maybe with them and a few select others inside. this is system wide in a shared knowledge base and it isn’t going away and what the hell do we do with it, how do we cope with it, how do we heal with it, how do we really accept it or not, how do we do whatever it is we’re supposed to do with it. how do we keep it from trapping us into a deep depression. from causing the dying impulses and needs and everything from skyrocketing. from triggering those inside to need to do that. from self-harming the body by cutting or anything else.

i want to scream and wish i didn’t know. and yet i know i need to know in order to heal. and at the same time i want to know, so that i/we can heal. i don’t want this to drag on forever. if it is true, i can see why i/we need to know. what we’re trying to work on inside is something that goes system wide and greatly affects our functioning and working together as a system and well, having a will to live. i/we can see how this information is a huge piece in understanding why things are the way they are, why it needs to be dealt with, why we need to heal this and work through this in order to get to our goal. it’s just so hard at the same time.

see i told you we’d whine over this, make a big deal over it. how many times have we said the same thing over and over in this stupid entry but said it in slightly different ways. so repetitive. fuck being succinct. we’re trying to figure this shit out.

oh g-d, here comes the tears. okay, enough. gotta go. can’t fall apart today. it’s a Noah weekend and our house is a mess, we still have a few other things we need to take care of today, aside from cleaning. it’s already late in the afternoon. we’re bound to hear from them soon and it will be time to go spend time with Noah and family. and of course we want to spend time with him. it will help because we will get joy from being around him. and we’re getting to know Hunter too and it’s good to do that as well. and we’re trying to not feel guilty for not calling and trying to plan to get together sooner today. it’s just we’re trying to cope, to pull things together, to manage things without getting too overwhelmed. to be able to be present when we do go see them this weekend. uggh.

keep feeling like we need to write more. like we’re still trying to process everything. need to post that story, but password protect it. and then send out the password to people. but also want Cec to know and want our email group to know, except it was somebody’s bday in our email group and so we have to wait to share that story. well, we don’t have to, but it only seems right to wait. and some inside don’t want us to tell anymore anyway. so we have to work through that too. we read the story in our support group thursday night and it was hard, but we did it. so now if we can tell it again.

julies, us, others (really not sure who’s here right now)