It’s ironic how you can try to explain, and warn, and explain more…. mental illness. Yet when you look like I do on the outside, no one ever suspects anything different.  Until they live through one of my spirals.

I don’t even know what I’m writing for, very sedated now.  My fingers even feel a little funny. I can’t even tell you whose life this is …. there are two really cute but loud kids calling me mom, so I must be, their mom. I just talked to my husband, which is so surreal because I would have never gotten married again.  I’ve looked in the mirror numerous times today and that reflection isn’t me.

I can’t take it anymore.  You seem to forget.

Your words are intoxicating …. one minute loving, tender, understanding, beautiful.

the next filled with venom ….they lash and burn and I feel myself slipping further from everything.

I’m broken, I told you, you just wanted to believe otherwise.

 

Your turn Mommy

This is a letter we wrote, to you, mom… we managed not to leave this one lying around.  I never gave it to you… just like most of the other letters we’ve written. ~ July 22 2011 revised

Less than 3 hours and you are already giving me “the look”. What I don’t understand is if I cause so much chaos in the house and in your life….why the HELL would you want me to take you home and “hang out” with you?  Is it because you use me as your mental punching bag?  Does it somehow make you feel better to make me tip toe, dance a jig, be your marionette? 

I saw how you ripped up the “letter” i wrote you.  If you feel so justified in the fact that I’m bipolar, why would you need to destroy it?  Are you afraid someone will find truth in my words?  Why would anyone believe anything I had to say, I’m chemically imbalanced, remember….  I’d think keeping it would make for a stronger case to back up your accusations.  

Hmmmm, so let’s recap…. everything that’s happened my entire life, is no fault of yours… me, I am the mental one.  Funny, you still felt the need to destroy a letter written by chemically imbalanced me…. oh, by the way, I’ve got the letter you shredded!  There is no need trying to hide things… I’ve become quite the super sleuth.  My ever so poor choice of mates in the past have taught me valuable lessons in the art of deducing facts to find the truth.  Wise you may think yourself, but life teaches many lessons, and I’ve been an excellent student. 

How do you think I’ve mastered the art of manipulation?  By watching you dear Mother…. It’s all about playing the cards dealt, and keeping a poker face.  I learned from the best, you taught me all too well….

“Your turn to go mommy” ~ Danielle

This was written around the beginning of March, 2011.  Shortly after returning to our hometown.  This girl was allowed to come back only after being verbal abused and mentally beaten by our mother.  She only allowed our return because our “dad”, was readmitted into the hospital after suffering from another seizure brought on from the result of terminal brain cancer.

I’d driven all night long to be with him and we hadn’t had any sleep….

 

the Sweet’s others

May, 2011

Right now I’ve never been more fearful in my life.  How can this be happening?  there isn’t enough air now… having trouble breathing, hearing, listening to anything!

The tears have already begun to flow and we made them stop… this girl stopped them because our only role in life now, is to be a mother to the daughter.

My Sweet just told me about her “others”

I need strength, this girl needs strength!  She isn’t going to be deaf to the words her daughter is sharing.  She isn’t going to close her eyes and pretend she isn’t at fault.  She refuses to be like our mother was to us.

God, please give me the tools necessary to be a good mother,.  The Sweet deserves that!  She deserves not to live her life in fear.  Please, Please Lord, I’m begging you to help me!  The others are here to help this girl but I need you a well!

My throat is closing up, my hands are shaking violently, I feel like I’m going to vomit.  This can’t be happening to my baby…. yet it is!

She told me she’s had her others since first grade.  Since we moved here….

We need air, I can’t breathe!  Make this stop… please let this be a nightmare!

Deep breaths, slow and even.  I need you now, all of you. I need this girl to be strong for our Sweet.  We all have to come together as one, to help our baby know that she can rely on me.

I’m here sweetie, can you hear me?  I will never forsake you or blame you.  Never will I turn my back on you or leave you.  Even when we’re apart, you’ll always feel my presence.  There isn’t a thing you could ever say or do to make me love you less.  My heart overflows with joy that God blessed me with such an amazing child.

You saved me, I’ve always known that.  From the very first moment I felt you move inside my stomach, you’ve given me strength.

I talked to the Sweet’s others tonight.  The Sweet and I discussed why they were here for her.  I recognized their presence and thanked them for being part of her life.

When I was failing at motherhood, they protected her.

The Sweet told me tonight they went home to be with their parents.  She said they were waiting for her, to tell me about them, before they went home.

They are gone for now, but this girl knows all too well, someday they will protect her again.

I just hope that the Sweet always comes to me, her mother, and shares her friends with me as she did tonight.

I can breathe now.  The Sweet knows how much I love her.  The other’s may fill in when this girl fails, but I’ll never blame the Sweet or the Great for this girls shortcomings as a parent, as their mother…

 

 

 

This was written right after the Sweet told me about her others.  She revealed this to me after a series of questions regarding missing items.

Later in the evening the Sweet and I discussed her others.  The missing things, were because “Ashley” had hidden them,  she often takes things and hides them from us.  The Sweet explained her to be bad and mischievous … I told her Ashley wasn’t bad…just curious…

This blog entry is unedited (except for grammatical errors we caught) and written in an extreme state of dissociation.  I vaguely remember writing this, and each time I read over our words, it brings this girl to tears… this entry added 7/18

 

Today…

Today

It feels good to be united… it feels good to fight a battle alone. This girl is allowed a day of reprieve. Self-loathing cowers in a corner, Self-Preservation is knocking at my door….

It’s been some time since I’ve felt this strong. Mom Dynamic, Dani Dynamic and Lola are one today.  No need for this girl to mediate, their personalities blend perfectly.

It’s ironic how the mother finds me a hinderance. Yet there’s no obstacle I can’t overcome, in regard to the Sweet and the Great…

Fear is a distant memory at the moment.  I still have fight left in me.  My children give me the will to move forward…. to defy gravity…. to be me….

 

protection

Why is it I, or this girl or whomever we are, seem to write better when crying?  Maybe it’s because we’ve had it with this fucking shitty ass life… sick to death of watching the Sweet and the Great hurt!  How fair is it to them? They have a fucked up crazy mother (ME), whoever that might be from day-to-day, a piece of shit father and whore bag step-mother.

You see my dear readers… from day-to-day, never does this girl know who is going to play mom.  We love when mom Dynamic steps up to the plate, she tried today…  I can see her… like looking through a glass window… a version of me, yet not me.  Sometimes I scream at her to be better… sometimes I cheer her for being amazing…other times, while looking, she disappears.  So alone….

We all try to shield, especially the Sweet from pain… she’s already told this girl about her others… and we died silently inside, because it’s my fault.  Who did this to her… I did…. we did…. one or probably all, are what caused her pain to emerge.

I do everything possible to remove fear and pain from the Sweet and the Great….yet this girl can’t always protect… she can’t always be mom Dynamic….this girl is tired she says… of protecting me.  She’s sick of trying to convince Dani Dynamic she’s the chosen one… she loathes Lola for trying to destroy our marriage. Right now she hates mom dynamic most.  Moms are protectors of their children, and mom dynamic is failing.

this girl tells me it’s going to be o.k. One day those two amazing children, I gave birth to, will understand and still love me. I think this girl lies.  Why would they forgive someone unable to fulfill normal, day to day, motherly duties?  How could they love someone like me? It’s not possible to love someone they don’t even know….

Why do I have these others?  Is it because of mental illness? Am I bipolar?  Do I have dissociative personality disorder?  Is it because of some form of sexual abuse we’ve suppressed?  The Bitch mother has verbally abused us, for possibly our entire life.  Each day unveils something we didn’t remember.

It was easier before I knew… when this girl was able to protect me from the hurt…before I remembered the others.  When I still believed the Mother loved me, good or bad. Those days are gone.

I see this girl, she’s sitting next to me. She’s pretty and sweet, she’s a good mother and wife.  People love this girl and want to be in her space. But I’m selfish, she can’t leave me and the others until I’m well.

I put my head on her shoulder and cry…. this girl loves me…. because she knows who I am.