we have some big family stuff going on that we figured out is ultimately “our fault” because we have been changing family dynamics or family stuff and so of course the family is going to react. i can’t remember all the psych terminology and symbolism we’ve heard many times in classes and by people educating us about basics but i know what it is, even though we lack the words and explanation for it. we are scared of what seems like a big blow up about to happen in our family. the reality is that more secrets are on the verge of being revealed and that scares us because our whole life has been about keeping them around our family and now they want to know and they think they really want to know but that is fucking dangerous and frightening to us especially since they really aren’t supportive. so we’ll tell some and let Sean explain some stuff that we just can’t do as well or as strongly and keep the rest because we aren’t fucking crazy and suicidal and know that some secrets are massively supposed to be kept. i.e. the other people, the cult, the ritual abuse whatever the fuck it is that happened to us shit. that won’t be told. at all. they really don’t believe the neighbor boy, let alone my father shit, and so i ain’t even going down that other road. that road is the most terrifying of all to tell.

in the meantime some wizard of oz programming stuff has come out in different ways in the last 2 weeks. just tonight and then again sometime in the last week and a half, and both very unexpectedly. we heard for some time there was wizard of oz stuff and know where it is on the system grid internally but have no other info about it. but now we just got some more nasty stuff said by someone(s) inside in our handwritten journal and i think some programming stuff that i just had no idea about and for once i think i believe it instead of automatically condemning it and analyzing the hell out of it so i can convince myself my other brain is tricking me and i’m the crazy one and especially if i believe the tricks my brain is playing on me to get me to believe it is real and from my subconscious when it isn’t but just my crazy self with my crazy brain that is just trying to convince me to believe something that isn’t real and isn’t true. oh how that doesn’t sound so much along the lines of “nothing happened. it’s not true.” “it’s not real and so it isn’t true.” if you believe any of it, you’re just crazy. you’re crazy because you have a crazy brain that likes to trick you into believing it is real and true but it isn’t–that’s just your brain playing tricks on you.

i don’t want to believe any of this is real. but really, wizard of oz shit was the furthest from my mind tonight. and the writing in the journal began with how much they hate Julie and how much she needs to die. and then it went on about something else and then they said something that triggered the wizard of oz programming stuff suddenly and then it just spilled out. sort of like last time. it just spilled out this last week about some other thing very different (or so it seems) about the wizard of oz stuff.

and we are really divided as to whether to password protect this or not. it’s scary to say these things. to tell them. to put them out there. it feels like we’re saying so much and telling far too much and yet we haven’t even told any details. we haven’t said what is in those journals and what we’ve come across. we haven’t explained how innocent things have suddenly lead us without awareness to the wizard of oz stuff and connections.

i feel emotional and scared and someone is reminding me about our need to throw up earlier when we read what the others wrote in the journal but that is gone now with an intellectual knowledge about it, as though it still is nearby but disconnected.

we just need to go. that’s all i know.

us, julies, ??

Our access to the Internet will be via the library and friends we might visit who don’t mind us borrowing their computer for a little bit while hanging out with them.  For immediate look-up of info, we’ll be calling Sean or another friend if we need some information right away that can’t wait.  But other than that, we’re going to be computer and Internet free for at least a month or more.  Eeks is right.

However, when we fully move out of our apt and return to Sean’s house, we will have full access to our computer whenever we need or want.  This is something we haven’t had since the beginning of the year and so we’re greatly looking forward to this change and hoping that it will be the start of more regular journal writing and updating of old journal posts with tags, categories, as well as importing old journal entries.  We also hope to scan in some handwritten journals and eventually post them here.  Some of it requires courage to do this, but we think we can do it.  We may have to password protect some of it and provide passwords to readers who request it or something.  We’re not quite sure really.  We’ll just have to wait and see where we are with things when the time comes.

Our realtionship(s) with Sean et al is going well.  Therapy with Kathy is going great and we’re extremely greatful she is our therapist.  Stuff is going on as usual and we’re quite stressed out with the many changes, transitions, and transformations we’ve been dealing with the past year and very recently.   I think overall they are positive things, but it still takes a toll on us and we feel like we’re constantly trying to come up for a big breath of air.  We’re still working hard on getting our life to a certain place where things might be a tad bit more manageable, though stressful and hard, but hopefully a bit more sane for us.

We’re so tired right now that I don’t think we are expressing ourselves very well.  We woke up very early after going to bed late and now we’re just trying to keep our eyes open and to think enough to finish this entry.  We have stuff we need to do today and the earlier the better, but we really have to go back to bed.

So anyway, a lot more changes are headed our way.  We’ll be on the floor in our apartment going through boxes and stuff, sorting, recycling, shredding, throwing away, etc. stuff.  In the midst of that, we will probably be grieving and processing a ton of stuff and letting go of things as well.  It’s not just an external process, but an internal one as well.  I’m pretty sure of that, but I could be wrong.  If we don’t do this, we’re just going to fuck up our life and fuck up our future and life with Sean et al and we just can’t do that.  So we’re going to push ourselves through this somehow and maybe finally be steps closer to what we desire our life to be like.  The fear is there though– all this stuff we’ll be going through has kept us from living for so many years but it has also kept us alive.  Not having it and having what we do have organized and orderly is what we desire and what we had growing up, but it is a big change since the flashbacks and since therapy began and the unravelling began so many years ago.  In its own strange way it has helped keep our system alive.  There’s just so much behind it.

We need to sleep though.

Until Later,

Julies (and all)

I wish we could get back to writing again.  I suppose it is good that I’ve been hearing some very young ones talking about the father and things, except they call him daddy.  They were passing it on to us and wanting to write it in the journal for some reason.  I don’t know what the hell to do with it.  I know the intellectual answer is to talk to them and treat them as if they were outside children and what I’d do to try and help, but emotionally, I just flounder when dealing with them.  I’m this emotionally neglectful person to the inside kids and sort of figure that hey, I heard them and they know I acknowledged them, and shit, that’s pretty much better than my mother did most times or the father.  I’m acutely aware that the emotional neglect part partially stems from the parenting I received growing up.  The odd part (and yet not so odd) is that this doesn’t translate to children externally but only to those inside.  Like inside I will feel for them, but I don’t do anything or enough for them internally that exudes from me externally within our internal realm.  It just stays internally within me in our internal world and of course this does manifest in various ways, much still unknown to me, externally in this life we live.

Whatever.  Just feel like I’m making up shit and don’t know what I’m talking about and feel very switchy as a matter of fact.

I feel so bad and ashamed that I lack so many things to nurture the kids inside or talk with them about things.  And this issue they are talking about… I don’t know what to say or do anyway.  I’m stuck in the middle about a lot of it and just go back and forth on it as those inside battle it out.  We haven’t spoken to the father since my brother’s wedding and even then during that time, we basically said hello and avoided him as much as possible and didn’t spend any time talking with him or anything.  Just enough to be polite.  Bryan didn’t even approach us about what to get dad for xmas and gifts and sending it out and stuff.  Even Bryan knows things are different and changed.  All these changes are so hard for the kids inside and our system.  Right now the young ones worried about him being sad and hurting him and not making him happy are the loudest along with the denier ones that he ever hurt us…it’s so strong right now it makes me question whether he did or not.

Sometime this past week we considered writing him a letter to see if this time if he would admit to what he did.  Even though some inside say ‘give him another chance’ to take responsibility and maybe apologize, others were pondering whether we really have that ‘control’ on our side by ‘giving him another chance,’ and that actually we are giving the control to him because basically his actions might strongly determine what we do as a system and possibly sway the battle inside one way or the other.  I don’t know… it may just be more fuel for the fire and the endless internal battle will continue until somehow or another we figure out someway to work it out or get past it or something.

It’s hard and scary changing things with the father, especially pretty much cutting him out of our life.  We did that to some degree previously, but we’ve taken it a step further and it’s just hard and scary and sad.  And the crazy damn part is that I don’t feel or think I’m really that close to him in the first place.  I can’t imagine being upset if he died today.  I don’t feel or think I miss him.  I don’t think or feel that I want a father or whatever it is that we sometimes hear survivors want from the abusive parent.  It’s like we were already disconnected or unattached or something has been missing all along or for many years now, so why should these changes be so difficult???  I feel like a baby that this stuff keeps coming up from within and we can’t seem to let it go or just not have it bother us.  I mean we can have it “not bother us” by pushing it back down and deeper within, but that’s not the healthiest of ways, at least I don’t think so.

on a different note cuz this is what i wanted to say in the first place is that i wish we would just start journaling more freely like we used to (particularly years ago and archives we need to import someday) or in ways that we’ve done in the past in our handwritten journals.  when we read friends journals we are inspired to journal and to write freely and to process things out as we write them and to write for us and to work out issues and things and process process process stuff out and communicate to one another using our journal and stuff and we miss that.  i guess we need to do some more thinking and focusing on this and figure out a way to begin making that happen again.  daily journaling is going to have to become a must because it is so much harder to return to writing than it is when we’re doing it regularly.

we’re getting tired so maybe we can fall asleep soon… just maybe…

julies, Julies, and then julies

We’re hanging in there.  Struggling in some ways, mostly internally, though at times it leaks and floods externally.  Things are much of the same as usual in struggles and life coping and in other ways, very tiny steps are made in tiny changes or progress towards some goal or to do list task or something along that lines.

We can’t seem to be very therapeutically inclined these days.  It’s there, lurking in the deeper shadows and crevices in our system and in our mind/s and heart/s, but mostly the emotional exhaustion keeps it pushed down or tucked away or just unbearable to face and deal with because with the emotional exhaustion comes the sweeping waves and storms of the deep sadness and pain and that only stirs up chaos and even more struggles which causes even less energy available when we need it to get through the day and deal with life.  There’s more to all of it, but that’s a sip or a sliver of a taste of it.

Whatever.  I’m writing so disconnectedly because I just can’t seem to write and let myself go.  We could but the risks right now are too great.  I don’t know what those risks are but the words are there.

Our system does things automatically… things I can never quite put into words or understand.  I tend to think critical of it because I want or think I want things to be different or better or something on some higher plane of awareness or existence, but perhaps I need to just accept what it is.  I hate this place of being in between conscious awareness of something, but having no clue what that something is, and yet not in the mode of unconsciously doing something… and oddly not having any fucking clue or words to describe that either.

So we’re here.  We’re around.  Getting through the holidays oddly enough.  I think it makes a huge difference having so much more distance from the mother.  The added difference this year is being with Sean and so for Thanksgiving it was much more like going to the mother’s to visit for Thanksgiving versus having a huge responsibility in it and freaking out and overwhelmed and a complete wreck.  Hell we do that on our own just with this time of year or for that matter, at any time of the year.  So it seems that Christmas might be a lot like Thanksgiving as well and frankly that break or distance is just nice to be a guest of sorts in some ways versus practically the host or this huge helper.  Although it took some ‘downtime’ for recovery, I think we were saved a few days short of what ordinarily would have been additional downtime.

This is just ramble of things.  Just needed to check in and say something.  So fucking exhausted and having trouble sleeping and then at other times sleeping at odd times.  Even when I try to avoid naps and fall asleep in the early evening, say 7:30pm or 8pm, we’re waking up an hour or two later and awake for hours on end.  Then of course if I’m luck to fall asleep between 11pm and 1am, I’m awake between the 3am-4am hour and often for several hours.  It’s just crazy and I’ve stupidly been accepting it for so long because that’s the way it is for me.  Sporadic, ever changing, crazy ass sleep schedule that is never consistent.

Off to try and sleep…

I remember hanging out with our next door neighbor, Nadine, and she was telling me about this book she was reading about a girl who had leukemia and she had bruises on her legs. Anyway, somewhere in all of that, I noticed that I had unexplained bruises on my legs. I have no idea how obvious they were or not and maybe (just flashed on something I’ve never seen before and not sure if it is real or not, but may also be another explanation of how the bruises came to be)…maybe they weren’t as big and real of bruises as the way that I saw them on my legs. I do recall very clearly noticing that I had these bruises and I had no explanation for them and saying something about them to Nadine. I also recall clearly thinking and worrying that maybe I had leukemia since I couldn’t explain the bruises and it fell in line with what Nadine was reading. I’m pretty certain that I asked to borrow that book when she was done and then read it.

But the sadness comes in with this dreaded suspected explanation for the bruises. Years later these bruises that made an indent on my mind come back as a piece of the puzzle and a plausible explanation is attached to them… that wasn’t there when I was younger and wondering how I got them. Ah, dissociation.

I think (and now want to write so little and be almost invisible and hidden…and then after a pause and breath, some other part gets angry and wants it known loud and clear…and then someone else is trying to stop it from being said or making a big deal about it, etc., and the internal battle ensues)…anyway, I think that the bruises are from my father being on top of me raping or abusing me and then the other flash that came through while writing this was him laying down sort of and holding our legs down sort of and doing something to us, I mean, abusing us. Us isn’t entirely true because not all of us and yet us is true cuz there would be us that got abused not just one of us and then there is the whole me thing that Julie doesn’t like to write or say and it didn’t really happen to her and yet it did and we just hate having to give a me or us to things like this. Just wanna say girl or her or it, anything that doesn’t attach a close identification to us.

So now we have to stop. We came here to say this thing that was triggered and has been on our mind since. It feels so stupid that something so small as unexplained bruises as a child would trigger such enormous inner sadness and grief. And the screams inside of it isn’t true and that’s not why and stop thinking that and stuff is so strong with it. And I really don’t know for sure if the explanation of the bruises is true… I mean maybe they weren’t because of the father and maybe some other reason why. It’s just somehow the father is now attached to the memory of having unexplained bruises on my legs as a kid. And I remember I had them for awhile because we suddenly started looking for them and paying attention to the body and was secretly scared we might have leukemia and not know it. I think though at some point we forgot to keep looking for them, but there was a time where we were secretly concerned about them. I say secretly because I’m really quite certain I didn’t say anything about them or my fears to my mother or father.

I don’t know for sure why I had those bruises as a kid…maybe because of the father or maybe because of something else. I do know that it made a big impression on me and it was one of the few memories that really stayed close to the memory recall if enough was triggered to bring the memory up. I also know that deep sadness comes with thinking about it or whenever something triggers it to flash through the mind, and as hard as it is to say, what immediately follows the flashback of the memory and sadness, is the possible explanation that has to do with the father. This brings even more sadness.

We are trying to write more in our journal and this was something that was specific that we could write about. I thought it was going to be a short paragraph… boy was I wrong about that. But at least thinking it was going to be a short paragraph helped make writing not seem so overwhelming. But now we are tired and fighting sleep and have to get ready soon to go to a doctor’s appointment.

Julie/s

Sean also witnessed my mother being bitchy with me.  It was interesting how I didn’t really notice entirely… I just noticed that suddenly ‘I’ went from being okay and numb and on autopilot to suddenly a huge internal surge of anger and irritation at my mother and me trying to stifle it down and be okay… and having no idea where or why this sudden shift happened.  I could only assume that others inside had come forward and closer to the front and this brought about these feelings.  Turns out that they must have noticed and heard stuff or picked up on something and so they were triggered forward, rightfully so, since my mother was being the old mother that I remember her to be.  It was sort of like, ahhh, now there’s the mother I recognize from years ago and early adult years.  I knew that side of her was still alive and well, despite her changes in recent years.  Some inside muse that the only reason that side of her isn’t stomping around and kicking and screaming is because the mother is so ill herself that she doesn’t have enough energy and stamina to be that side of her as much as she used to be.  I don’t know.  Just interesting to note is all.

The father came to visit due to my brother’s Wedding October 18th.  We changed the rules with the father and that was so very hard, but we had a ton of support from Sean et al and we got through it.  We also had some support from friends and even though my mother wasn’t what I’d call supportive, she was in a very limited way, more supportive than usual and apparently when I was out of earshot, she was more supportive of me regarding my father than I’ve ever heard her to be.  When speaking to me, she would turn it back to herself and how hard it was for her that he was coming and she had to sit next to him, etc.  Granted, I’m sure it was hard for her, but her support towards me was some flat response and then all about how hard it was for her and maybe even harder for her.  Whatever.  She lacks the ability to support me and hell, we’ve long pushed away any of her meager attempts or limited capabilities to give support, because she has hurt us so much, we simply no longer trust any of it and refuse to open our heart to her again.  We learned that lesson when the body was 17 years old and never again has the heart risked anything deeply personal with her ever again.

We got through the father’s visit.  There’s still processing going on within because we changed so much of the rules with him.  We didn’t play “the game” of being superficial to him and talking about the weather and extended family and saying stupid shit all the while acting like we love him and he’s good and okay while secretly we are still keeping our distance and protection.  That didn’t happen.  Instead we pretty much had nothing to do with him and nothing to say to him.  There’s more to write about all of that.

On the weekend of October 25th, Sean and I took 3 dogs (Zoey and my brother’s 2 dogs… Oakley and Tucker) on a road trip down to the Portland, OR area.  He wanted to go visit his grandma and he wanted us to ‘get away’ after the wedding and after the father leaving town, etc.  It turns out he had something else planned as well. He had planned this before I told him that I would be babysitting Oakley and then my brother ended up unexpectedly adopting another small dog, Tucker.  Sooooo off the two of us (and more, teehee) went with 3 dogs in tow on a road trip…. btw, I don’t recommend taking 3 dogs on a road trip… 2 is plenty….whew….that was an experience.   Anyway, Sean took us down some back roads that were beautiful and we stayed in a really nice lodge and we visited some of the waterfalls down by the Columbia Gorge.  And on October 25th…. one year to the date that we first met and our paths crossed in life and 7 months to the date after our first date, up on a bridge at Multnomah Falls, he proposed to me!!!  We are happily wearing our ring that we both designed together and it is great that we are ‘officially engaged.’  We actually set a date together long before he did the official proposal.   So we are getting married on July 10, 2010.   We have photos and video and we will tell more of this story in another entry at some point.

Well… Zoey is whining about needing to go potty outside even though she just went about 2 hours ago, but I’m going to take her out.  So until later….

Julie/s (and all)

Big breath.  We need to leave tonight to go to our mom’s house to stay overnight for the next several days as my brother has had Noah for a week vacation.  We visited yesterday to celebrate my brother’s birthday but now we need to go and hang out and visit with Noah.  My brother couldn’t get Tues-Thurs off work so I need to be there to babysit those days– at least my brother can go in very early and get off early from work so he can have more ‘daytime’ to spend with Noah.

I just wish that when things are disorderly in our life, that the anxiety and disorder stuff didn’t follow us so much.  I try to let it be okay to just let it go and let it be and we’ll deal with it when we get back, but it is very hard.  I don’t know– we’re finally rested enough to maybe tackle some of our to do stuff right now that will lower anxiety, but I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep up with it.  Sean and I took my brother’s dog, Oakley, with us to his place to babysit and acclimate Oakley and Zoey together as well as the other two dogs in the house (Sean’s roommates have 2 dogs).  But that’s getting to be a job in and of itself as sometimes the dogs are cool with one another and sometimes they aren’t.

Anyway, we should go.  We just needed to write something.  Was going to twitter something, but that didn’t seem like enough and we’re just so overwhelmed right now.  yah we can be all okay and seem fine on the outside and yah even those Julies can think they’re fine enough like usual hard stuff and not know all the hard stuff or they can disconnect from it or whatever, but it is hard and we are overwhelmed and i don’t know. it’s too hard to put into words.

we just want things to be a certain way and trying to get there is so hard. trying to be there is so hard.  it is exhausting and overhwhelming and so much anxiety.  we want to be better but there’s so much to do for that to be real and true in a real and true way and not a fake way.  we keep thinking if this or that was better or this or that was like this that we’d be able to cope better with stuff. that we could cope better with leaving the house and being away from the house for a long day or days.  that we wouldn’t have so much anxiety and we’d be dealing with life stuff so much better. but what if that is all just illusion and stupid thinking of if only this or if only that.  what if it won’t be that way whenever we finally get to that spot.  what if we’re lying to ourselves and just think it will or hope it will.  i think we need that hope because if we knew it wasn’t going to be any better if this or that was this or that way, then i think we’d be very hopeless and want to die because we don’t want to live with so many limitations that we have and certainly not all of these limitations that we have now… we don’t want that for the rest of this life we’re leading.  but i guess we worry that it won’t be better in the way we think it will be better someday when we get to xyz space and when xyz is done and then what… then what???

we gots to go. so overwhelmed and tired and hate that we always get like this before going away from the house for an overnight anywhere.  hate that this happens when we’re going to spend time with noah for a long period of time.  we love noah a lot and now there is hunter too and we hate that we feel the overwhelmed feelings and exhaustion and anxiety.  we have a good time with them– we do. and we’re fine around them for the most part, but wish all the stuff getting us ready and getting us there wasn’t so incredibly hard.  the hardness is what makes us so late in getting there and being there from our original plan or goal to be there at such and such time.  it takes so much out of us.  we want that to be different some day.  we need it to be different someday.  it’s just so much.

the anxiety can make it hard to breathe inside.  someone can kindof breathe okay outside but inside it gets all tight and cramped and fluttery and shallow breathing and terrible and so so bad.  and it makes us just want to go hide and stay away from everyone and everything and from doing all the things we’re supposed to do. and that only makes us bad and badder cuz we end up not doing what we said we’d do and we hate that cuz that’s not good and being really late and that’s not good either.

sigh. we’re having a hard time even if we’re okay.  some inside can be okay cuz that is their job and that’s what they do and that’s who they are.  but the rest of us, we’re not okay. we’re just not.  and we can’t seem to have those two connect or for us having the hard time, we can’t seem to make it okay to talk or really tell or really deal with it a whole lot these days.  therapy just doesn’t seem safe enough or something. our system setup just isn’t allowing it.  we’re glad we got a chance now, but lots of times we can’t really talk or tell or deal with it too much.  so much is being shutdown and trapped and not totally sure why, but think there’s a therapy safety net that is missing.  it makes us miss wendy so much.  and i heard that dragon was missing her a lot.  like he wants to be able to talk to her and those surrounding the memory he has and their memory too, they want to do this next part with her.  dragon has never met anyone else but wendy on the outside, at least that i know of.  well, except for when he was created and maybe if they used him for other stuff or something like that. but not anyone else since we started doing the healing journey and therapy thing.  so it is this big deal for him to trust anyone else and just, wendy was so sweet and special and good to him.  she made him feel appreciated and valued for what he did to survive and how he has been there for the system and stuff.  she made a connection with him.  this is more like intellectual-knowledge memory and not so much actual memory, but there are tears suddenly here from somewhere while we write.  so maybe those are dragon’s tears or someone else’s tears from inside.  so i think the words i said are valid and true and meaningful.

we really do got to go.  trying to not fall asleep again but we might and we might be bad that way. i don’t know. uggh.

Julies and julies and maybe some others around