200 A Return

We have found our way back here. A return to our story. You know why? Because we have found our safety net again, at least we hope we have. We have found a new psychiatrist and he seems willing to work with us. We’ll call him Henry. We have only seen him once but he’s soft and kind and open-minded. He understands that this has been a journey and one of healing. He gets it! Wow! He doesn’t seem afraid of us. Some therapists are. Because we are multiple, we are thus complicated and require “special” and “expert” treatment. But they’re wrong about that. “Expert” is the last thing we want. “Experts” seem to have their agenda for multiplexity. They want us to become one. But we do not want to become one. Not now.

They seem to have other ideas too that they want us to adopt. They do not want to take us as we are. They do not want to work with us as we are but as they think we should be. Screw them then. But Henry doesn’t seem to have that agenda. He only seems willing to listen and even to learn, he says. We thank him for that.

Our first session he asks some questions about the past of course. We talk about healing and about shamans and meditation and the Dalai Lama. We talk about the school year and how the beginning of it triggers us. He’s a little surprised. What he knows is that often abused kids are glad to go to school and get away from the abuse at home. Later we realize we haven’t told him that was earlier for us. The earlier years. But high school was a very different story and it is high school that we keep remembering these days, these years. High school that is dreaded. Sometimes Ethan still fears he has to return until we tell him ‘no’. It is now. We are adult. We don’t have to go anymore. But it still feels like we do.

The feeling is one of oppression and repression and suppression and depression. Walls closing in on us. Duties and obligations. Things we don’t want DON’T WANT DON’T WANT TO DO. Then everything in our current life becomes duties and obligations. Well .. almost everything. Facilitating the support group is still something we so want to do and absolutely love doing. We pour our heart, our compassion, our sympathy into it and it feels wonderful and warm and giving. Giving to us.

But so much else brings on the fear. The fear of Michael. The fear of school. The fear of being trapped and held, pinned down, and helpless. We think that maybe some people, including us, get depressed because of the feeling of powerlessness and helplessness. All the things we cannot control and want so badly to change. We feel dis-empowered.

Our day began with sadness in a dream. A deep longing for something. To be in a beautiful place, in the forest, in the country, in a house of wood and light. We woke up still feeling sad. But eventually we began to drift this way, towards our story again. Only a few weeks ago we tried. We looked at some art from years past and it was so painful. We turned away. Not now. Not now. We’re not ready. But now, it may be due to Henry, that we feel able to return. Maybe he will provide some comfort while we revisit our story and the memories.

We hope so