dVerse: Does Death Have A Voice?

dVerse: Poetics DMT

Hand Me Downs, Polyvore by grace2244

no drugs necessary for self talk

when others exist within

tho drugs often desired

to battle the trauma 

that created my selves

my life this year has been 

life or death

a constant mind battle

craving a mind meld in favor of life

yet trying not to cut too deeply

to keep other me from

having her way

at first me vs. them

(the perpetrators within)

wishing & pursuing my death

now advanced to seemingly

one me...two minds

half life...half craving death

working to change the balance

in my favor

always wondering if she

will completely take over

and they will win...finally

day to day

i wonder if i will be alive

to see the next morning

more coping skills

exhausting & draining

withdrawn from what i knew

who am i becoming?

who will be speaking in my stead?

will there be another

or is this the end

my dream today is to live

til this weekend

to have dinner with friends

short term goals

crawling

wanting this era of my life

to be over

whatever that means

dVerse: Shattering & Rebuilding...Constantly

dVerse: Poetics ~ Shattering the World and Rebuilding It

Polyvore by Grace2244...Shattered But Hopeful

i've dealt with parts of me

wanting to kill me before

for years it was a puzzle-like process

but no active attempt on my life

i had one close encounter in 2011

this year is testing my will

from every conceivable angle

an overdose in march

scissors too dull to cut my arm

sent me into a safe treatment facility

most don't understand dissociation

and having parts

and who would want to understand?

my healing has lead to miracles

last year in sedona

to wrestling myself for my life this year

two weeks undid the majority of the parts

(got them into healing)

though i thought i got it all.

soon after i got home

i discovered a straggler

and used my new skills to resolve

the part's hellbent goal to kill the body

so proud i was of my accomplishment

yet two days ago, i stumbled on a box cutter

in the drawer

someone else previously unknown

took over

thank goodness for dull blades in my home

while running it along my arm veins

i was screaming for help to my husband

it's tough to ask for help 

when another part is fixated on death

i figured out who the part was 

after my husband came to the rescue

calls to therapist and appointments made

the experts said they can never know

how many more times harm parts will surface

or how long this current "script" will be running

my internal world has shattered several times

and i've rebuilt each time

coming out a bit stronger

i thought i'd met my match two days ago

no one (or very few) understand this evil

that began when i was preverbal

and still impacts me today

decades later

i'm fighting

i'm trying 

battling to stay alive

before my strength becomes less

than theirs

i believe in angels

there must be angels

i should be dead

doom and gloom in writing

yes...always 

my world is mostly dark

but it's the light that makes it

worthwhile 

Thank you for this prompt. Sorry if too graphic for some.

dVerse: Written Words to Live

dVerse: Meeting the Bar ~ When Words Fail

Polyvore by grace2244

my answers used to come

through collages

and internal discussion

the written word was not necessary

the first time i overdosed

following my perp father's death

was not me

it was one of me

it came undone with hypnosis

and collages

it never occurred to me

it would happen again

last month, two years later,

i overdosed at the same time

after believing i had fully healed

the anniversary of his death

set a suicidal part off 

and when pills didn't work

a second time

the images in my head

terrified me

i was fortunate to be admitted

fairly quickly into a

trauma treatment center

where i learned that written words

were needed to reach

the harm parts

the old way wasn't working

they taught me a new way

am feeling safe again

all unsafe parts are in healing

or transformed

i have the skills now 

to recognize much earlier

when i need to write my way

to reach the ones who might

overwhelm me with harm messages

or take over and end my life

no expert knows if/when it will happen again

so i must be prepared

regularly to ask inside

written words can save my life

writing, always a part of me,

yet never thought to try that 

to communicate

i feel armed

the pen is my sword

not to kill

but to heal

words must fall

upon the page

for me to live

dVerse: Topiary

dVerse: Self Portrait

Topiary ~ Collage Art by grace2244

this was me a few years ago

when i was healing

now it's me again

falling apart

trying not to

trying to find strength

when parts want to die

 my circle of life

i know i'm feminine

and love pink

but my head is still a blur

and i'm entwined in

all the evil of my past

me trying to turn weeds

into beautiful thriving flowers

i cut the pink dress

to put into this conglomeration

because

that's how i knew it was me

wanting to grow out of the past

wanting to embrace the future

wondering how i will do that

when unseen vines

keep pulling me down

 

dVerse: Darth Vader-Evil

dVerse: Kennings ~ Coin A Term

Polyvore by grace2244

MK-Ultra
the government's mind control program
with 83 sub-projects
called umbrella programs
that drugged children,
students, prisoners,
other unwitting victims
just to see what would happen
and more sadistic programs

could a child be developed 
as a secret agent
highly skilled
in many areas
without her knowledge
through predetermined
trauma-based dissociation
beginning at birth

a child built like a computer
to operate on cues, codes, signals,
programs upon programs
complete with self-destruct button(s)
call out dissociated personalities
with a particular skill
use them in a mission
and send them back to sleep mode
without even a flicker of radar
in the conscious child's brain?

what term can be used 
to describe this kind of program
an umbrella is too innocent 
to serve as a cover up
Darth Vader-evil imposed upon
innocents to serve our country

by whom?
the CIA
an underground CIA
something called the CIA but is not
at what level of government
is this Darth Vader-evil
that no one wants to see
or acknowledge

tick tick tick...

dVerse: Invisibles

dVerse: Poetics ~ Invisibility

Polyvore by Maggie Grace

growing up invisible
not seen...unheard
not allowed to be a me

a lifetime filled
with an invisible world
invisible mes
known only to "them"
while conscious me
the quiet one
afraid to speak up

when the invisibles of me
became known
healing began for what
no one could see
nor would i want them to see

recently learned there is no end
to the healing...to the invisibles
someone new with me now
letting her feel acceptance and love
offering her a new home
a new space in my mind
my invisible world

dVerse: I Overdosed

dVerse: OpenLinkNight

i overdosed on 2/22
not because my life was too hard
it's been heaven comparatively
since last May's integration
a part of me surfaced near
Valentine's Day
carrying death messages
which I avoided through 2/14
i was fine on 2/15
thought it was over

my mind hasn't been on healing
from dissociative parts
for so long, it seems
normally i would have called
for help when the part appeared
but thought i had handled it

husband went out for a few hours
on 2/22
i thought my thoughts were mine
felt like me convincing myself
all would be better without me
i took as many pills as i could
plus two drinks of alcohol
(not something part of my regular routine)
i was still awake when husband returned
but it was my nap time

a few hours later
after no sleep
and realizing i wan't going to die
i told him
was dizzy and body was shaking
wanted to wait until morning

called therapist first thing
she said go to ER for medical impact
was there all day
no drugs showed up in tests
a DID "trick" ~ body registers
what it was "told" to do
three social workers and a
call to my therapist
allowed me to go home

doing okay
had therapy session
and another for monday
dizziness is lessened today
am almost functioning
didn't sleep as much
happy to be here
with husband and puppy

DID from birth
no total healing
must be on guard for
any activity internally
i could have killed myself
and it would have appeared
that's what i wanted

Christmas Eve 2013

 

home alone by choice
to allow sadness and vulnerability
to surface as it must
realize it is the first time
i have been feeling good until last night
when the trauma-related feelings hit
but the sadness is not consuming me

it is not me down in the pit
it is me realizing the sadness
is another emotion
and it doesn't need to be alone
it has support from stronger feelings
it doesn't own me any longer

the guilt of staying home seems odd
since great sadness, especially tonight,
usually had me feeling nothing else
except anxiety
now i can hold all emotions
and just notice, acknowledge
let them co-exist
likely what most know as normal

i am truly one

 

 

Christmas 2013

my nightmares of christmas
now in the land of severed memories
the vision of my unknown life
put upon a mental shelf
though validation is nice
in a painful sort of way

this december of christmas movies,
joy of lights, music, and puppy
very different and welcome
yet overwhelmed with
fatigue and thoughts of 
adding tissue to gift bags
just let me sleep

a quiet holiday
for mind and body
the greatest gift
a first time peace and calm
unafraid of opening gifts
that contain body parts
the selves who knew 
safely tucked within the whole

the life that was
no longer the priority
lingering thoughts 
within acceptable limits
your laughter the
sound of the season 

dVerse: Above This Orbit

dVerse: Poetics

Writing to the Art of Catrin Welz-Stein

 

 

Where The Starlight Begins by Catrin Welz-Stein 

high above this orbit
far from earthbound danger
i roam the safety of the stars
held within the moon's glow

high above this earth
my world when being here
was too much for my mind to bear
where time was nonexistent
and pain relegated to
a me of a distant plane

now one of this earth  
healed beyond the pain ~
still wishing to be among the stars
walking the constellations
hiding within the peaceful unknown

 

dVerse: Monomind

dVerse: Form For All ~ Ballad

my life has been a riddle
few can understand
even professionals
disagree on my life's hand

is it real or am i faking
but who could fake such pain
and need years and years of therapy
just to maintain...sustain

from multiple to singleton
a journey long and grueling
is it worth the trek to reach the goal
or will the end be my undoing

so many questions along the way
who will i be when i am "done"
i've reached the goal of monomind
but the battle is still not won

the world is slightly different
from a single point of view
still some fears do linger
for which i haven't got a clue

but i'll trudge on until my death
to be a better me
embracing love, releasing fear
always yearning to feel free

Tanka: Shadow Self

Tanka Poets On Site

Shadow

my few memories 
a shadow of my life 
lived by others within 
we are all one now 
still a mere shadow

dVerse: Here But Not Here

dVerse: Riddles

Polyvore by Grace2244

 
i am but one body
with one mind
fragmented into many.
i have split consciousness
and am often unaware 
of what i do.
no one sees the real me.
i can hide for decades
clueless to myself and others.
the biggest riddle is
who am i when together as one?
 

amnesia assures no answer
for most of life 
and then i shatter 
like Humpty Dumpty 
waiting to put myself 
back together again.

 (This is what used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder, more recently, Dissociative Identity Disorder. I have healed and am newly back together finding my way now as one mind.)

A Birth Too Far

Inspired by Sam Edge's writing about revealing self truths.

Creating Alters ~ Polyvore by Grace 2244

my birth not meant for joy
a creation for cold war government
loved only until i began to remember
disowned immediately
and only after first memory of incest
not exactly the act of an innocent
he made mother choose between him
or staying in contact with me
then the rest
intentionally made a multiple
personalities trained for government deeds
and "special projects"
some were never used 
because anticipated events
never happened
but always the ones wanting suicide
at each move forward with healing
i've survived all they programmed
into my fragmented mind
but wonder how many others
succumbed
and were suicide statistics
instead of death by government evil
engineered by Germans...Nazis
Operation Paperclip
who taught me well
and traumatized me to the brink of death
over and over
to keep my mind creating more of me
systems within systems
meant to be sturdy
but came down
not exactly like a house of cards
more like Lego by Lego
until it collapsed
most don't grasp "polyfragmented"
they just know Sybil
still I healed
no proof of my beginnings
but know my own truth
mother's egg
artificially inseminated
with "royal" sperm
i know my sperm donor family
a secret world even from the donors
bloodlines meant to carry on
not "my father's" child
my father's asset to maintain the terror
but never too far
for he would pay the price
of not living up to his bargain with the devil
he is gone now
i've yet to spit on his grave
i see my life in movies and tv shows
La Femme Nikita
Orphan Black
Manchurian Candidate
genetics gone awry in labs
the things i saw that no one would believe
everything before amnesia broke
intended for no one to believe
my truth is unbelievable
so i scream it at the top of my lungs
thousands like me
trying to heal
not enough therapists to treat multiples
let alone the ones from "the programs"
my truth sucks
and when i scream at something in the media
it is my primal self recalling
what was done to me/us
FUBAR
who believes FUBAR
not enough tears
to mourn my life
death has to be kinder

VisDare: Life Coach

VisDare 32: Undecided

photo source

How could it have been invisible for decades to herself, her parade of husbands, her friends, her doctors, her therapist? Emma knew it was true at the moment of her wide awake nightmare. The voice in her mind that coached her through the screaming agony of remembering was one of her.

Emma heard the words “multiple personalities” recently but could not comprehend the meaning of fragmented selves hidden within amnesia from early childhood until the height of one’s career in their thirties or forties. The voice that coached her was a character in the novel she had written. She’d heard his voice many times but as dialog.

At age 44, the life she thought she had lived came crashing down. Oddly, knowing the voice of her character was actually a helping personality became an immediate comfort. The time had come to relive her nightmare consciously.

Words: 145 

 

Tar Babies

Wall of amnesia in place since very early childhood breaks in 1997 when I'm 44. My dissociated selves come tumbling out and it is life changing to realize I am a multiple. An early alter to reveal herself was first called Tar Baby until I learned her name. Later I realized the image I had of her coming out of the tar was her crossing over from subconscious to consciousness. I wrote this 11/04/01. Just rediscovered it today.

Photo Source

Pieces of my murky past come forth
like tar oozing from the core of the earth.
Each bubble bursts open flashing a moment 
of horror in my mind.
Perhaps it connects to a previous moment...
perhaps not.
I place these moments into the jigsaw puzzle
and wait.

I can see the chasm
separating conscious from unconscious.
The dark side quakes,
forever trapped in fragments of nightmares.
To reach the safe shore of consciousness
alters must leap across that 
hell of memory of childhood
and life gone awry
by those who would justify
torture of a child
to eliminate an enemy.

Alters emerge from the slime
naked to the world cloaked only in terror.
But the courage for them to find their way out
leaves me in awe.
Were it not for the protectors
who lead the way,
I would be lost
wandering the inside of my haunted mind
as a zombie roams the earth ~
the walking dead in search of life.

I know where the life is hiding
but I must first embrace
the worst of the nightmares
to set it free.
I have never known the joy of life ~
the will of wanting to live rather than die.
I'm so close at times
but slipping back into something
that seems to hold me up just high enough
to keep my head from slipping
back into that tar pit.

I refuse to turn back.
I've known enough life now 
not to want to return;
but some days it feels so inviting
to creep back into eternal ignorance,
to pretend my life never happened.

I want to wash that shroud of blackness
off each of my selves
and let them see life
and want to take that
great leap into joy
that I've yet to know.

Trifecta: What Now?

Trifecta: Week Eighty-Three

Write between 33 and 333 words using the word "rusty" with the following definition:  a) of the color rust; b) dulled in color or appearance by age and use .
 

3a : of the color rust  

  b : dulled in color or appearance by age and use

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf

3a : of the color rust  

  b : dulled in color or appearance by age and use

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf

Photo Source

Jacob was livid being trapped in a windowless room with two strong guards outside the one door. He had only hammered one nail into the body’s foot. The nail was just the beginning, but he was dragged from behind and thrown into solitary confinement.

Jody slowly became aware she was at the emergency room. She focused on the moving lips of the nurse who was speaking to her but sound hadn’t kicked in yet. What now she wondered.

“Do you understand?” asked the nurse.

“Ummm. I’m sorry. I must have zoned out. Can you repeat what you said?”

“How much did you miss?" she asked clearly annoyed.

“All of it?” Jody cringed. She hated when she came in on the middle of something. “Why am I here?”

After a big sigh, the nurse began again speaking loudly and slowly.

“I can hear just fine. I just missed it.” How she hated explaining herself. Was there any way she could avoid saying the dreaded words this time? It was then she felt the pain in her left foot. She nearly passed out when she saw the doctor stitching it up. “What happened?” she shouted in a near panic.

The doctor waved the nurse away seeing her lack of patience and began to speak calmly. “Somehow you drove yourself here and walked in with a rusty nail sticking out of the top of your foot. You are very lucky it missed a major artery. We gave you a tetanus shot. But we still don’t know how you managed to get a nail in the top of your foot. You must have been in shock all this time.”

Jody scanned her mind to find what she last remembered. She was angry at work at her condescending boss after she had just completed the project on time and under budget. She didn’t remember driving home. Melanie must have driven her. But she knew Jacob had driven the nail into her foot. Having multiple personalities sucked.


Words: 331