Can one have brilliant sleep and grand dreams? Methinks … yes. After a night of not sleeping so well and a day of bad sense memories and temper tantrums internally, it was grand respite. You may pardon the reuse of the word grand?
Dress Up won today, with pearls, initially with sparkle (to be described when I actually wear the sparkle), but concluding with pearls, which usually only happens in June, because July can be too hot for them. But no. Charcoal wool pencil skirt, cream ribbed tights (they are so easy to get on! thank you, HUE! Brilliant!), brown Born riding boots, cream tuxedo shirt (of sorts, kind of ripped up fabric applique version, tulle, chiffon), long strand of freshwater pearls quadrupled, costume pearl bracelet with a pearl flower with a sparkly center (Target! ha!), long silver cocoon sweater, kind of origami wrap coat in pale brown thick felt, lacy gray wool Italian scarf wrapped Euro style. No gloves or hat just yet.
Lovely walkies in the freshest Autumn wind that could have been cold if I hadn’t worn the coat. First coat day of this side of the year. Chipper was a new dog, loving it. Cars were zipping around as if they were cold, too. Silly, really. I remembered that I walk him pretty much 365 days a year, my nose cold and my cheeks rosy, my eyes tearing in the wind. I love it. No, I adore it, so long as I’m dressed for it. I love all the seasons. So does Chipper, I guess, I imagine.
So in counseling, two alters I’d like to discuss, two sexual ones: Kitty, and Cat. Kitty is a younger sexual alter. Cat rarely comes out and I feel is so repressed she would eat a man alive, rip him apart. She is the one who holds the darkest of the sexual disempowerment and rage, violence, and I’m afraid she would rip someone apart. So she is pretty dormant, rarely triggered. Kitty is out a lot more, and actually meows and moves like a cat. Hey, whatever. Right? So we’ll see what my counselor says. I’d like to incorporate the two of them into the “novel” into the healing section for Rebekah. There is a panther in the book, where I moved those latter split chapters into the new chapter ten. That totally makes sense to me now, and I didn’t even realize it when I wrote it in college after I had been date raped. Ahem. Right. Ha! So my AOL was irritating me just now because it was blinking just now and I go check it and it says for Kay Jewelers, “Hello Kitty for Charmed Memories …” Fricking Irony. Gotta love that, really.
I painted more yesterday but mostly crashed and hard, nice, but with quite the temper. Read for quite some time to distract myself positively after the B12 shot and that helped quite a bit. Chopra was talking about the different ways to change blocked negative energy. (Hello Kitty! I mean Cat, for one.) Contemplation or something, reflection and meditation are three great ways. I prefer meditation which is why I don’t remember too well the first two, although since I’m told I’m so analytical I prolly do them all the time, I don’t focus on them as much. He prescribes three meditations: 1) focus on the breath, 2) focus on the heart, 3) focus on the light passing up and down the body. That is gross over-simplification, but I hope you get the idea, and the book is out there for you to buy, if you are interested.
The were helpful to me yesterday to a certain extent, but when I focused on my heart chakra, I immediately saw my Mother, then my oldest sister, then and alter who holds memories of these angel drawings (beautiful, btw) that my oldest sister created and later destroyed. The drawings were on the top of my dresser under glass when I was a little girl for some time until I became overly fascinated with them. They would make me cry, because I thought they were real and would dream and pray to them. I would get really upset. I said I’m not an angel anymore, and my oldest sister said she wasn’t anymore or something and we both cried, although I could hardly believe that about her because she was perfect in every way to me. She destroyed them, they were in the trash torn up and I pulled them out, pen and ink lovely lithe angels torn in half and was crying and she came and got them and I never saw them again. So that was on top of my heart under my Mother, who was mad at me for some reason, on the very top.
My heart needs a lot of meditating methinks. I like this idea. One guy in the book was able to release his anger about his father, which he had an image for of two fighting knights and he finally dropped his sword because it was so damn heavy. What a relief. I try and try to let go in so many ways but things keep snapping back on me. I like to believe that I can one day be free. I will keep trying to be as peaceful as possible. Yay! Go me! ha!
Back from session now and doing much better than last session. Feel energized and organized, informed. Okay, so Kitty was formed during the abuse by the babysitter and is about 5-8 years old in time frame, is affectionate, can take pain/abuse obviously although we don’t want that for her, and is, well, sexual. Mrwowrh.
Cat belongs to the college age, as I said, and is kind of a storehouse for all my anger. We kind of knew that going in. Still don’t know what to do with her.
We kind of veered into a discussion about my hosts instead, which was the macro informative part. See, I’ve always thought, well since this diagnosis came about anyway, that I have about 2-3 hosts. I can tell, which I don’t always bother to do, which host I’m in, by asking myself about how old I feel or what mood I’m in. I can tell if I’m the host if I feel fairly exhausted and in control of some sort, although I rarely feel in control, and don’t particularly like the word control because I don’t like being repressed or repressing myself overly much because it’s been done overmuch to me. So I have a loose hand in the playroom as it were, unless I’m driving or doing something that takes absolute focus, like a conversation or, well, something like that. Something way important.
I’m more like an observer in a control room and only act in case things get out of control, fires, floods, etc. Then I start turning dials down or up, etc. Less Jimi Hendrix thank you. Or more. Hee. That sort of thing. For I love him so.
So we started charting my hosts and they have groups of alters with them that were created with them, kind of, around the same time. Like Cat was created during the College age Host time period. Kitty was created during the Birth to age Eight Host time period. For example. The healthiest alters were created from 2001 to present Host time period, where I stay most of the time, although I’ve been in the sixties a lot where a lot of the flashback alters are, or in the adolescent period where memories came up about Nameless since July, kind of stuck energies. I like the sixties tho. I like the eighties, too. My poet was created largely in the eighties so it stems there, free verse, wearing black, Cold War dualities, can’t help myself, have to shake myself into new imageries. So there is a lot of progress today, a lot of new information.
There is little control and a lot of slippage between the shifts among hosts, as there is among the alters. I observe, I’m aware, I find myself in different rooms. I’m an artist now so I can afford to be a little trippy I guess. I guess. I can’t really control it anyway. It hurts, it’s very tiring and I don’t know how to control something like water. Remember, water is hard, even with two brushes.
Which reminds me, I am painting. Hee. Need to get back to it. Looking forward to it! Very soothing in comparison to therapy and “novel” writing, so I’m thankful. So thankful for grand sleeping and brilliant dreams …