5 Alive

Big bear was afraid.  What an ominous feeling, he thought. "I am a bear. I fear nothing. I rule much of this forest. " What is it about a hug that I fear?  These animals are small.  None compare to my ferocity.  This little raccoon is lost. He is crying for a hug. "I want mys mama. Pres hugs me. Hewp me big fuzzy" How can we do this? Bear is perplexed.  Small raccoon. Very big bear. "Kin you lay downs and I kin crawls up ond you?" Bear wasn't sure this was a good idea. "Little raccoon I am too big" A little " Pwes!!!" Bear got down. He rolled onto his back. Little raccoon crawled up on his chest. Tiny sobs eased.  A hug. Hmm...nice..Bear thought.  The sobs were smaller. Soon a forest came full with raccoons. Trees full of bigs and babies. One climbed down. It sat gently in Bears paw.  He raised it to his chest.  The two raccoon were dancing there.  Tiny feet tickled him.  Baby was found. Bear had learned something new. Hugs were the

It's that time of year! The trees are going up with bows and bells. Lights aglow all about. Greetings in the spirit of Christmas passed around.   Things to do. People to see. Busy busy busy.... It's been a year since we lost dad /pa and it feels fresh. We want to feel the Spirit..we wish to make a Christmas.   Being fragments, living D.I.D, means several agendas coinciding uncomfortably. Businesses means dissociation time. Lost moments, hours..for me a big blank. Things are getting done one part of me or another.  Lily has been baking and wrapping. Cleaning etc. As a mother figure would.   The tree is up thanks to Maddy. Wee helped decorate.  I did the bows for the tree and got gifts. I have also baked and cleaned etc.  Team effort. It's for my ma and a friend and us.  We are missing pa badly and there are times of just being down and 'off'. The mind has to slow. The body is tired. Emotions run high. Time out is needed.  Then we are back at it. Fragmented and gettin

It has a distinct shape.  The old ones are hand forged.  They hold the ties.  Very symbolic if you think about its purpose.  A simple Rail Nail.  Bigger than most but uncomplicated.  One original purpose.  To bind ties that held rails that cross nations.  A worldwide tool.  Used by many to create connections.  I grew up knowing the Rail Nail. I still own several. My papa had a little of everything over my time, nevermind his! He passed last year. I hold my Rail Nail from him often. I know my siblings have had their Rail Nails. Some hold coats!  The Nail can be crudely made. It weather's and rusts over time. Some are bent.  I think of our own family connections. Often a disconnect, strained or just far. We have grown up and apart. Then we come together for moments and that Nail of our bond is there.  But at times I am like the bent, rusty nail that somehow just doesn't fit. I am misunderstood.  I have PTSD with DID and there is a wedge in some ways.  We are all different. But

Please take note i am writing this in a spinning emotional space. This may be quite disjointed as a blog.  It has been a long hard battle to get to a state of some cohesion, with having alter persons, in my fragmented mind. (Read about D.I.D) Years of work. Painful therapy. Inner work that left me/us drained. One body, 5 persons, to have one lead and one focus... Fuck I am mad. There is a big anger. A big hurt.  Sorry but i got Stung by a new group of '"?'card friends'.  It is hard to explain as i went with a 'safe' friend.   This group had drama and things I did not know and I got caught in a 'drama game' that was at my expense.  It was an underhanded attack on my mental health.  Apparently when i confronted my friend about what was said and she explained that it was more a dig at her to say I should think badly of her. That it was to create a rift.  It really hurts because I am trying so hard to be living Real in places I make safe.  I hav

It is going way too fast for the slow parts.  Life. Mine.  The affect of others.  I love and I hurt. Life is really like an ongoing series of trials at times.  Experiences.  Some bring joy and feelings of positivity. Others hit like a 2× 4.  If you ride with me expect a harsh mix. Come prepared because it has been grueling.  A bumpy ride.  How do I manage? It is like juggling right now.  Dissociative.  Disjointed.  Frazzled.  I've been all over te emotional gambut.  Things will settle some. Good therapy has helped. Pushing forward has been an internal fight. Keep going. Bring your sword. Wear the gear. Bring your helmet!!

I was 19 when I laid eyes on him.  I was on at date and hitting the Dry AA club afterwards. I was in Al-Anon and this was a safe haven.  The date had no connection. To the side there were pool tables. Someone was new! Cute too.... I would see him in passing several times. Open meetings were a regular thing for me in those days. I had friends and a few good groups I went to meetings.   I was mending from a nervous breakdown (a story for another blog). My biological father was an alcoholic and it left its mark on me. I was where I needed and had a fabulous Sponsor.  The guy was sneaking peaks. What a smile he had!  They were obviously having fun. He was with AA men so I knew he was in the program. Getting sober and staying so was not a simple process.   Most knew me. I was a regular at the club. After meetings and drop ins were keeping me on track. I was strong. Stronger than I had ever been.   I knew this date was a bust. Letting this guy know was a big problem as he was stalking materi

I dance among the days of past in fragments of me that came in order to survive. Trauma was amiss. Young mind blown apart to cope.  They call it Dissociative Identity Disorder.  They don't call it Multiple Personality Disorder anymore.  We are like a tree.  Branched off from one trunk.  Some tist and twine to support. Some are small but mighty. Some draw more energy than others. Some are well cloaked in leaves. Some are more bare with heart open. Some gnarly but growing stronger. Each day working for the good of the whole. One trunk to keep alive so all can be. One tree of branched love.

I may not be where I wish in life but I am where I am on my path. It is a journey like we all face. I wear my Grey's and wrinkles with some pride at having earned every one. I take along my side the love and kindness of others.  I use my lessons as guides for my future.  Finding peace in moments. Accepting self. Giving back.  Be you

A lifetime of living in the weeds of lies and reality manipulation it was her trials that led her to coping in ways many could not fathom.  Her mind was young and fragile. In the blasts of traumas it fragramented.  Building walls and seeking safe harbors.  It continued through her life.  The weeds followed. Added, she often made choices that had new weeds of mistruths and pain.  Relationships that dragged her back under. More weeds. A marriage failed after 13 years of her hopes dashed. Trust blown again. Her reality messed with repeatedly. Lies and addiction...the weeds covered her over. It was long years of resurfacing. Slowly peeking out to find life. The last relationship was 7 years. She thought she'd found her place. A person to go old with. Weeds grew. Betrayal. Left. Given a parting gift of hpv cancer.  10 years later, nearing 52, she wondered if the weeds would stop. She was breathing.  Peeking with hopes. Alone had become ok but no green grass was growing.  Hack down the w

Beyond my four walls What life to find Hopes to fill Connections to make Each day progressing  Out the door My haven left My four walls I've watched Days on end Freedom beyond Safe Harbour To expand A route to make For me To breathe Fresh air Beyond my four walls ~A.R.

I am drawn to you . I have no idea why, there is a warm feeling when I think of you.  Deeply I care. Putting my heart on my sleeve.  Yet, I know how much you could hurt me if you wanted to.  I feel a push - pull to you. Sometimes you give me your smile. Sometimes you swat me away. Harsh reality. My heart feels so much. This life is so short. Loved ones..the true kind..hard to come by.  I like you. Know this. Know I care so much. I am real. These are my truths. 

Wonderous world Curious soul Eyes I see You and me Days to battle Days to learn Moments of laughter In darkness Hold hands ~A.R.*

The wind had the smell of the lake on it. A slight view from the balcony, tonight under a heavy cloud dark sky. Noise of downtown street patios and traffic. A blend of Pub grub, and exhaust lingers in the humidity.  The wind was warm but welcomed. It seemed to be the hottest summer I could recall. It certainly had not been one I'd enjoyed. Life was dealing a cruel hand. I was exhausted.  Hurried, I crossed the quiet street. A parked car lights blinded me momentarily. It was just a car being started from a distance. I missed the days of all metal cars with their deep rumbles. Nowdays, they could do just about anything but cook you breakfast. Quiet and efficient.  My nerves were on alert. Once in I had the car running and I was quick to lock the doors. It was a warm haven. The seat heater was a blessing of comfort.  Something was bothering me. Not just the usual. I was about to do something new. Feeling hypervigilant. A few deep breaths and some luke warm coffee. I forced myself calm

" Row a bit there Babe, (Aka Ross..his real name but Babe stuck and would be used by his mother for a lifetime ) I am not doing all the work and then splitting the money if you won't even row! " his brother voiced.  Don was tired from diving the lake for bottles. Babe didn't even swim. Don could easily swim across the vast bay. These antics much to their fathers dismay, as he watched them from his cobblers bench window. They were, mostly the elder Don, always up to something.  Today it was the row boat and bottles. In those nineteen thirties and early forties there were few laws about tossing whatever into the lake. Bottles had deposits. It made diving for them worth a boy's day or more.  At its deepest Kempenfelt Bay was 136 ft. and almost 2 miles wide in places. You could not see it's 14 ft length. Many burbs and small towns dotting its banks.  Don was in the water. No mask and no fear. He dove again and again. Coming up, tossing his finds back into the boat

I often question many things in life. I have a spiritual view of things. Energy in all things. A God....hmm...not sure. I do feel the connection to the sky. Perhaps, the vast beyond is where the answers lay.  Life has handed me many difficulties and tasks I feel are harsh.  I have also felt deep joys, happiness and love. Life, like vinegar and sugar.  Feeling lost after the death of my papa and many changes. Finding my ground has been difficult. In despair, many moments I turn to the sky. Day or night it's always there. Ever present. The stars never leave.  The sky. Energy of what has come and gone. I speak to the universe. To those who have left. I need help. I need answers. I want my pops back!  Help me Papa. My days are long and lonely. Anxiety has me by the throat. You always had my back. Always there to encourage me. I need your guidance.  I need your strength. I need your voice to tell me "it's going to be OK honey" like you always did. People tell me to Live so

Some might have called him a big brute of a man. A bit on the eccentric side perhaps. He was born at the end of the Great Depression. It was 1933 and the town was a bustling throughway for supplies by train and water.  Surrounded by farmland and the town growing slowly southward toward the big city of Toronto.     The train was the main connection. A coal yard and lumber mill kept bay fed both boats and trains headed to places in demand. A midstop for supplies heading to northern Ontario. People were bunched together. Often making their way for work or relatives.  His father looked over the bay on his stool at the tannery. A cobbler. Shoemaker. It was work.  Mother was at home. Making a home. She did catering to help make ends meet.  She'd grown up on a farm. Her folks still there. She was no stranger to hard times and hard work.  Donald had come first. With Ross 11 months later. She could have no more children after a hard birth.  As it was these two kept her alert. Em

I have been in the dark depression for months. It eased to be depression but working through the pain. Now I feel in a shift to more good days. More light.  There were lots of time missed,as it goes with D.I.D.  Today this meme caught me and I really laughed !  I thought .. yep this is D.I.D when I am reconfigururing after a big switch out. 

I have really been struggling with life since I lost my Papa Don. He raised me. He was my 'dad'. He was my rock.  I lost him much before with Alzheimer's. I can say that, for me, his death was traumatizing.  I lost Papa in Covid care. Lack of staff. Impromper care. Many things. He got pneumonia. I watched some of his last hours. I was shattered.  I have spent months trying to piece myself together. I have felt deep sadness like never before. This man was my safe harbour. He KNEW me. All of me. The WE.  He loved All of me. My Papa Don....one of a kind. My journey after he died has been harsh. Anxiety and panic haved reared their heads. Agoraphia set in. Depression. D.I.D out of control with no harmony. I stopped living. My days with tears back to back. Seemingly a never ending cycle with panic attacks. I did seek help and continue you to. I get a couple days it is better. A really good day still rare but I am getting there.  It is work. I have started to feel some of that he

Beyond my walls A world free Beautifully inviting I built no gate My moor deep I wish to venture My fear holds me These walls  For safety Sufficate ~A.R.* Quiet dance Barely touching Move with grace Feel the music Emote with movement Touch the need Partner a ghost But we dance ~A.R* Time moves Ever forward In my mind Moments stilled Shock and trauma Pieces stuck Let go, hide Memory box Time moves Past visits Furture calls Standing time ~A.R.*

She was layered in clothing to protect from the frigid cold. Her path a small wooded trail. She was still. Feeling the cold on her cheeks. Her lungs filled with winter's fresh air. Yep...if she could get past the crap days of crying and her anxiety of going out too far for too long.  She went for essentials. She pushed to go once a week at least away from her 'safe zone'.  Some of those times she did too much and gave herself panic. Not cool!  She is Me/We the person living D.I.D.  Once called M.P.D.  There are triggers and fears. Out is ...not in control of more factors...it gets complicated.  When out ...Sometimes safety within can be found and sometimes safety is getting home.  I used to get invited out.  Inbetween lockdowns and Covid proticols there was some interactions.  Some didn't go as long as what was expected of me and I felt terrible for having to bail despite having explained what can happen for me before.  Do they not listen?  Especially since they have se

A New Year. The end of 2021 comes. It is with mixed feelings for myself. Perhaps it was that question from that self help App? What were 5 achievements you accomplished this last year?  I couldn't answer. My mind swirls in the disarray of events this past year. When was it good? I know it has to have had those days and moments.... Fogged by the long days from that May day my sdad, pa, Papa Don fell and went into hospital care.  Painful memories mixed with some blessed moments with him in his last months.  His passing has been almost 4 months now. Hard months for anyone grieving. I have struggled.  Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder is trying on the best of days. When 'we' are working as a 'team' there is more self presence for Me. I don't miss as much time in large chunks.  Grieving as 5. Myself and 'alters' who are not all feeling or remembering the same with sdad history and connection. Though it is that we all had very strong love for him. He