Tag Archive for 'Flashback'

dreams, the good and bad of them

October 31, 2009 at 3:22 am. Written by (and/or talking about) Julies, others (lc), us (lc) and usz. Tags: , , , , . 1 Comment

Dream with daddy in it. Ick ick ick even though it got good stuff in it cuz we be fighting back a little with words and our hands but still it scary and icky and bad and scary to us. and we gots flashbacks of usz dream and keep seeing him coming at us and what he wearing and his smile and his energy and attitude around him and it scare us lots even in usz flashback of the dream.

This what we remembers and we had it Thursday night um Friday morning day sometime and waked up from it but not write it down but now we writings it down with help from some bigs even though we still trying to talk and use usz words as much as we be allowed.

Scenes we remember. Forget all the stuff befores and after.

Daddy wearing a faded washed lots white t shirt that he wears under his shirts for work. We thinkin he wearing his blue air force pants cuz it not jeans and it just got that certain blue color on them. and he walking towards us with his hands down by his side with the ickies and scariest and yuckiest smile and attitude that he got power and control and he coming at us and he kinda mad at us but kinda amused at us but the kinda amused in the icky way of knowing he in power and control and we gonna try to or we fightings back and he know it not gonna work or nothing. And he walk towards us and we punch him with the strength of an infant a baby, really it barely touched him but we were kinda giving it all we had and kinda not and while doing that we were saying we hate you we hate you over and over and then started telling him he was lots of bad things. the words we remember saying but lots more things was said to him but the words we remember when we waked up is: you are scum of the earth. you are a piece of snot.

and we thinkin maybe we waked up after saying stuffs to him or maybe stuff happen and we not remember and then wake up. oh and we be all sweaty and stuff cuz we had a bad dream and it like a bad dream but not a bad dream cuz it be good things we do in bad dream. we NEVER EVER that we remembers ever tell daddy in usz dream that we hate him and he is a piece of snot and scum of the earth and lots of other bad things to him. and we never ever hit him in usz dream. and it be all new lately that we be dreaming and see him in usz dream cuz usually it juts lots of bad peoples or bad men or bad peoples that we not know or not recognize or not can see good sometimes and it all new the last year or two or maybe three years that we have dream where daddy show up sometimes and we not like it at all.

even ifin it be good the bad people turning into people we know and daddy be in dream and even if it be good we facing him and telling on him in usz dream cuz we had a dream about that before a few or more months ago and even if we be having those good things cuz of what they mean it still be a bad and scary and icky dream and we still got all ptsd and flashbacks of that stupid dream cuz we see him coming at us with those clothes just like he in front of us for reals right now and that smile and face and it all big in us mind and memory and all blowed up so big and scary and we notta like it at all and we hate it and we are bad and scared and bad ands it just scary it all changin and maybe he know we gots this dream and he be mad and sad and mad at usz and we just bad bad bad bad bad bad

the other part of dream or another dream around same time or maybe we go back to sleep and then wake up with this dream but it bother us but not so much flashback like the daddy thing but it still really clear this scene we remember. something happened or was going on that we can’t remember and we can’t find sean or zoi and we needs them and we looking for them and then we finally find them. we see zoi first and we so sad cuz at least 3 of her paws and bottom part of her legs are wrapped up like they be hurt and she not can stand or walk even though she was sitting up when we find her and we hug her and as we hug her we see behind her that sean is there but our memory of that part of dream is blurry and hazy and we woke up after that.

we just remembers that there another dream or scene we had too cuz we sleep and wake up and sleep lotta lots today friday during day and now it late friday night um saturday morning and so it confusing when we had what dream and what order but we think it lotta like this order we write. so we be in california on the afb we lived at and we going back there to visit as a grown up but still feeling little like a kid and the houses be all torn down and we remember that is what we found the last time we went back there. so the houses were like that and we were trying to remember or figure out what street was “our street” that we lived on b/c they had not only changed the street names when they destroyed the old houses and rebuilt entirely, but they also changed the layout of the neighborhood and so we were trying to figure out the approximation of where our old house stood and as we are doing that lots of kids of varying ages and military police began surrounding us but they were at a distance, like behind the walls of the backyards and just in general surrounding from various areas of the homes, streets, sidewalks, etc, but at a distance. more and more military police began coming closer to us in a surrounding formation and we were aware and yet trying to act innocent and stuff. i think we were sort of on a small kid bicycle or maybe a scooter or something, not necessarily just walking. and one of the mp’s got our attention and we stopped and we started to explain we used to live there and we were visiting and as we were looking past him and behind the walls of the backyards of the homes, we were trying to explain and tell him, see, this is the road to the main gate and this is the road to blah blah but in the process of looking and about to explain to him that we knew the area, things about it looked even stranger. we started to explain how it didn’t look right, the road didn’t look right and even the area behind the tall walls that were between the backyards and the road to the main gate that the grass was strange and that it was big and juicy and not grass but something else. in doing research for this, found out that it is actually Carpobrotus edulis (Hottentot-fig or iceplant). so we were trying to explain this when we were looking to our right (the opposite direction of where the main gate is supposed to be) and suddenly noticed water, lots of it, like the ocean was right behind the homes and it was moving as though it was stormy. then as we looked further to our right, we could tell that it was going to flood and overpower the homes and streets and that we had to move quickly to higher ground. we said something to that effect, hoping that the mp’s and the other people (mainly kids, teens, women) would start running quickly with us, behind us to higher ground, because we/i knew it was coming, this big flood of stormy ocean water and it was dangerous, but i remember thinking as i was running to my left and towards higher ground that suddenly appeared conveniently in my dream, that they didn’t believe me even though they saw it and it was so obvious and right in front of them and was going to head towards them. at one point while we were running and had reached the bottom of this huge mountain or cliff of dark brown gigantic boulder rocks that created a rocky, but climbable mountain that we looked back to see how close the water was to us and it was definitely heading toward us but we had a little bit more time to still get high enough for some kind of safety, although we knew time was seriously running out and we were going to get hit by the ocean/flood/stormy water before we reached the top, but we felt like we’d make it. i only remember in the dream focused on reaching the top, but i think there were others who eventually started running behind me and heading the same direction. i think (but not positive) that this is when we also started looking for sean and zoi and after reaching the top and then going into some kind of building, though the image of the building or any of that isn’t very clear… just i know it was some kind of enclosure that was very dark and it felt damp and cold, and then that’s when we found them and we were so relieved because we were missing them, needing them, worried, and wanted to be close to them for safety and security for all of us. i think we woke up shortly thereafter.

so some strange and intense dreams with lots of symbolism and some obvious or likely dream meanings to be found in them. We’ll probably write another entry about our thoughts on these things in a little while.

Time was spent researching and trying to find out what kind of grass or plant it was and when we discovered it was a type of ice plant that used to live behind the tall brick wall behind our house that separated our backyard from the ice plant, then the sidewalk, then the main road leading to the main gate and other parts of the afb. Anyway, now we are ‘bigger’ and that feels nice as we feel more stable being grown up at the moment since we’ve been primarily very young and struggling to be ‘big’ at all these last few days.

Julies, but earlier us, usz, and possibly some others

Written by (and/or talking about) Julies, others (lc), us (lc) and usz. Tags: , , , , . 1 Comment

Prelude To A Flashback

June 12, 2008 at 2:52 pm. Written by (and/or talking about) Uncategorized. Tags: , , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments

She knew she had to tread carefully, for the anxiety and memories lay near the surface, and yet she pushed herself onward, to give the love and teasing she desired to embrace as a woman without a history of sexual abuse.  She longed to be that woman, with no fears and no ill feelings at the mere idea of anything sexual, and so she pushed herself to be that woman.  To do that, she focused on her love towards him, the enjoyment she had in just being near him, and she delighted in giving him the pleasure of oral sex.  She pushed away the old thoughts, the disgust that was of the past and not the present, and pursued a moment in time where she wasn’t a survivor of sexual abuse whose past haunts her everyday.  She hated herself for having those thoughts and feelings, that surging rush of throwing up, and children being triggered towards the front while trying to control the body from contorting itself in frightful and sheer terror convulsions and shakes to rid itself of the emotional pain, visual memories, physical tissue memories of the abuse.

She knew she was taking a chance, but she tried to be aware of when it became too much for the system, and yet be unaware of the abuse, as though she had no ties to it and it binding her to the past that she so desperately didn’t want to acknowledge as being hers and owning her.  She smiled and giggled at the control of pleasing and teasing him, and at the idea that she may have conquered this sex act after all, instead of it torturing her and forcing her to surrender.  She continued onward and continued to push away those thoughts, those intense feelings, those memories that kept creeping toward her.  She wasn’t going to let them take over and win.  It was 2008, not 1986, not 1978, nor 1988.  But she had gone too far this time.  This time she was succumbed by a new visual memory instead of just sheer emotions and young children tossed forward in a triggered state unaware emotionally of what year it was, their safety, the reality of today and an adult’s body, etc.  All they knew then and still know is that anything sexual is bad and that they are inherently bad, dirty, and disgusting.

The memory involving her father came and she knew she had to stop the oral sex.  To this day, it remains a blur as to how it all swelled forward in an overwhelming fashion–she who thought she had it under control, but didn’t.  Once again, the past controls her, owns her, tortures her with its indelicate right.  So she stopped, whilst trying to believe this new memory.  She held the feelings, the newness of the memory within her.  She knew it was safe to tell him, to seek comfort, and yet she felt it was bad to do so.  The timing of it was off.  For just the night before, he had his own flashback terrors, nightmares, and support needs.  It would be bad of her to freak out now with her own stuff, especially the night after his difficult time and also knowing he was still struggling with his own new flashback.  She knew that keeping this memory and struggle to herself was unhealthy and a relationship issue to analyze and discuss together, but she couldn’t push herself past it, and so she remained silent– something she knew she could do well.  She tried to not show any problem to him– only that she was “done” with oral sex on him even if he wasn’t finished.  She tried to show her love to him by laying close to him.  To this day, the time after the memory is a blur.  She doesn’t know what really happened in regards to lovemaking or if it stopped.  She only knows she stopped the oral sex.  The next thing she recalls is laying next to him dealing with the memory flashing over and over, and turning on her side to fall asleep, though she didn’t fall asleep.  It wasn’t unusual for her to be on her side because of her back issues and her natural sleep position anyway.  She just silently cowered within herself and her/their system began to process the new memory in the mostly shared memory space.

She desperately sought ways and ideas to disbelieve the memory.  After all, she knew that giving oral sex was a very triggering thing to do and she knew she had to take heed in being aware of her limits and the system’s limits.  Therefore, her mind could have simply “made up” without her knowledge a reason and a memory as a way to “make sense” of the trigger and having pushed past the limits.  She wanted to believe this and yet this memory was specific.  It was in her bedroom in Arizona and her bed was in a certain position (she rearranged her room there from time to time).  But then she tried to reason and rationalize that a lot of her memories with the father are from Arizona, so perhaps the brain just resorted to the room in Arizona and her bed in that position.  Yet, she had to acknowledge that Arlena (or so she thinks it is her) had written a few years back about her attempts to prevent the father from getting her, and the bed was in a different position in that room along with an entirely different comforter set.  The bed in this memory was located elsewhere with a different bedspread on it, although she fought hard to point out that the memory is very dark and only shadow outlines, though very clear outlines. Yet she had to acquiesce that the sexual abuse happened at the time in the middle of the night, and hence, darkness would shroud the memory.  Though she would like to argue that we always had a nightlight working all those years growing up.  Even still, she eventually had to realize that none of this negated the truth of the memory with the father.

Along came the need to expunge this memory from its gripping terror and constant reminder upon her soul.  The children inside were beside themselves, especially without any therapy, no therapist really to rely on.  They decided they would mention it at their support group and see where it took them.  The children ended up telling the memory in group, complete with emotions and switching commonly held and allowed only for one-on-one therapy with their therapist or when the body was alone.  They received necessary support from their fellow survivor friends, from their partner, Sean et al, and the Julie and the Julies who wished the memory to not be real or true, they slowly began to realize the depth of the emotions and how wrong it would be to deny those children within their truth, memory/ies, and feelings.

And alas, we are here at this point.  A point at which we seek to find (and know we own) a photo of our room at that time revealing the bed, the bedroom of Tucson, Arizona many years ago.  We are also at the point of telling the memory and sharing the thoughts of those inside that have thus far shared their thoughts and feelings.

Until later…

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The Belief Factor (my other brain is against me) Part Two

May 7, 2008 at 1:25 am. Written by (and/or talking about) Jillie, Julie-In-Pink (JIP), Julies and others (lc). Tags: , , , , , , , . 0 Comments

I don’t recall what we were thinking or planning on writing next after we completed Part One earlier today (now yesterday).  I sort of feel like what is left to talk about is the actual memory or visual picture(s) we are seeing.  And in a way process out what is so hard to believe about it.

*** (in very small writing and a small voice) i’m very terrified of being wrong.  i don’t want to accuse him of doing something he didn’t do.

*** This particular memory or visual picture(s) is the only thing that equates to what some inside view as “real sexual abuse” and not just “inappropriate behavior.”

Basically many inside discount and minimize the other stuff that we recall and know for sure happened–we do not doubt those things at all.  Although if I was real with myself, I would recall that when these memories (the ones now referred to as not real sexual abuse) surfaced about my father, they were very distressing and I/we had a very hard time believing them.  If I allow myself to go back in time and try to remember what it was like to just have those memories surface, and the unrealness about any of it, and difficulty believing it, etc., etc., then really what is happening now isn’t all that different.  Those memories that we had flashbacks of years and years ago (that we now just give little attention to as though it wasn’t that big of a deal– fucked up, yes, but not distressing to the degree it used to be and to the degree that other flashbacks or memories other kids inside have about other stuff is for them).  Anyways, those memories sparked huge PTSD stuff in me/us and it just about broke me in trying to come to grips with it and believe it and realize what my father did to “me.”  And now I give such little credence to it.  I forget that those flashbacks weren’t readily accepted as truth either, just as we’re dealing with this now with this new flashback.  Everytime I write “we’re dealing with this” and use the plural form, someone inside pipes up and gets annoyed and ??whatever the word is that I’m looking for?? and basically lets me know that it is me and plural doesn’t completely apply here.  That the usage of plural signifies the majority of us and that isn’t the case as they know it and knew it and didn’t have the issues that I had.  And frankly then I want to get snippy back and say that it wasn’t really “me” back then as it was Jillie and Julie-In-Pink, but I don’t know where Jillie is now and Julie-In-Pink (J.I.P.) is merged with me (although I think she split again, but I think she is merged back with me… not sure totally).  Anyway, so technically if J.I.P. is merged with me, I suppose that still makes it ‘me’ in a sense and applies more directly to me, even if it doesn’t feel like it was me back then first experiencing all of this.  At the same time, on some level, I know it was me, whilst on another level, I don’t feel as though I was part of that time.  That I wasn’t the main fronter at that time.  For that matter, I’m not sure if I was even around at that time.  I think I may have been created later, but not wholly positive.  I feel stupid for not knowing for sure my origins, but I’m just not sure that I’ve been around all along.  Sure– I take on the “Julie” identity and that is my name, but that could easily have been incorporated into my being and creation as an adult.  I guess really I don’t identify that much with having been around as a child and I don’t identify with it as my childhood or having a childhood.  Yes, intellectually I do and intellectually on an emotional level when it seems like I’m supposed to, but not really, and even that (intellectually on an emotional level) it really just isn’t there at all.  Okay, I side-tracked here.  I have to go look and see where my original thought was that I was trying to write about and tell.  Uggh, so hard to tell and describe the flashback stuff.

*** There’s been very little of any flashbacks of actual sexual abuse acts involving my father.  Years ago, I had 2 separate flashes of what I believe were moments just before an actual sex act happened and I’ve always struggled with believing what I just “knew” happened afterwards in a very broad manner.  I guess I’ve always pushed back hard against the visual stuff that ever crept forward in connection with those 2 particular flashes.  Aside from definite sexually inappropriate behavior (but no touching) involved, and aside from the seriously inappropriate and disgusting kiss he did to me in broad daylight in broad view of any neighbors when I was between 11-13 years old, there just hasn’t been any flashbacks involving actual sexual acts.  There was one very general flashback that a poem was written about from it, but I’ve really never considered it a memory as it is just so very far away from me, unreal, and just different than the other flashes.  So this particular flash is significant in that it involves sexual abuse in the form of a sex act by him.  And it is specific in a way.  It isn’t as far away as the poem memory is, but it isn’t as clear as the other flashbacks of sexually inappropriate behavior are.

There’s been a fair amount of other things that have led me to believe he sexually abused me.  Just saying that makes me want to put quotes around the “me” part because it wasn’t me, because I just wasn’t around during the time he was abusing us, me, whatever.  Fuck.  Insiders have had their own distress and referred to things, said things, etc., but at the same time, not a lot has been actually said in any detail about the father.  There’s been a lot of focus from the time that we lived in California and the neighbor boy/s and cult (if applicable to us).  I know my father abused me during that time too, but there’s been virtually no memory identified (that I’m aware of) with that state with him.  It’s been the states before and after that one.  I sure as hell know that he didn’t just stop mid stream.

So I guess we will try part three in trying to actually say it aloud in words.  I don’t know, maybe we won’t be able to do it.

Julies and others around

Written by (and/or talking about) Jillie, Julie-In-Pink (JIP), Julies and others (lc). Tags: , , , , , , , . 0 Comments