Brannon

    Ebbyday, dat Molly werks... ebbyday, Spidey weaves his cobwebs... waiting for di day dat my black widow arribes. Spidey keep his distance until people stop trying to step on me. Dey've gotten in a habit, so Spidey be patient. Wait until di all clear. Spidey berry patient.

Finish what I started

 

Dear coffee,

    So, this is me supposedly doing "the work". You know, confessing my sins worldwide. I got tired of hiding the truth behind bipolar. Hopefully, it's working. I'm getting too old for this. I need to change. I need to stop getting stuck. I was trying to please my families. Worked out great, didn't it? Now everyone is pissed and I'm broke and delusional. But when the psychologist says I have impaired recall, I believe her 100%. It's like saying that grass is green.

    Anyways, so Molly here decided to finish what Leaves started. The breaking up of my families. Telling you the truth. Getting me out of dysfunctional relationships and breaking the bubble of medicalized perfection. Yeah, if my memory was better, I could have moved. If I didn't, in fact, have DID, a very disabling and serious mental illness, I could have gotten out. It's a little late, I was miseducated. But I can still tell you the truth. The tale of a family that prefers to keep its faults behind a wall of medical lies. And, you know, I helped. I helped keep it buried. 

    I allowed the doctors to run me into the ground with the medications and the bullshit education on bipolar when I could have dealt with my emotions. I thought taking care of people was better, but perpetuating the lies has had costs. Truth is, there's a lot of problems. And labels like drug addict or bipolar don't even cover them up anymore. The medication trains don't cover them up. No, a lot of people are bitter. Not just me. The magic maker and his enablers... they're being exposed for the frauds that they were. 

    Now, someone else could have said something. Someone at MIP, or at CCBH, or in my families. No one did. No one did. They preferred the legend and the Bipolar Bullshit. They liked the magic maker. And I believed it. Now I'm learning to keep my distance. Just like you have. 

    I can only hope this message carries far and wide. To every corner and crevice in the world so that the lies have nowhere to hide: the enemy is the lies of Bipolar and the MagicMaker Prichards and those who enabled him. Spreading this message allows everyone who hears it to use this knowledge to keep themselves safe from the lies of medicalized perfection. I don't have enough metaphors for this shit. Pills don't work. Blaming me doesn't work. Creating a myth of drug addiction does not in fact work. The only thing that works is giving up the bullshit. Being decent human beings. Treating others with dignity and respect. So, I'll be limiting my time with my families and working on my memory and my thought cohesion. Just like you have limited your time with me. 

    I have to honor the work that Elle put in, that Leaves put in, that Molly put in. I have to say no to medicalized perfection. I have to say no to bad psychiatry. Too many people bled to get me here. I'm not buying the bullshit. I will get medical care when I need it. Period. End of story. I won't keep supporting enablers and liars and abusers. Which means less social time for now. Until I have more space from my families. Some people don't listen. So, I'm spreading the word far and wide to the ears that won't buy the bullshit. Some people I know are simply too proud and too rich to understand right and wrong. So, I'm doing this the hard way. I don't see how what happened wasn't criminal, but I'll settle for the bullshit ending. 

    That Molly's stubborn, yes? SO AM I. I get to tell my truth like everyone else. The sooner everyone gets with the program, stops spouting shit from their mouths, and starts acting right, the better for everyone. We're not quitting. Y'all can keep your bullshit going with other people. 

        I'll send the pain below.

Ashes

Spidey

Dey bedder be lice to Spidey. Spidey werked berry hard on dis.

The Storage Room

  

Dear Elle,

    I can't stay here forever. I don't know where to go. I just know I have to go. 

    Is it my fault that you're inspiring? And you never even knew. For 23 years, you never knew. Not until that last day. You see, Leaves had told me. She said, you should tell her. And so, when I came back, after all that time, that last time... I remember writing the note in the hospital. I remember asking you to talk. 

    You took me into that storage room. The nursing interview room. I don't remember what the note said. Something about you watching over me. Mentioning your name in the ER was a mistake, by the way. I don't know exactly what they thought of my trauma list. They weren't thrilled. Anyways. That's when I told you about Leaves and read the note to you. I gave it to you and you slipped it up your sleeve. You know one of the nurses in the ER was like, yeah he's got pretty words but... 

    I remember the nurses coming, trying to pull you away, and you wouldn't let them. I'm glad you were there. 

    Anyways, now everyone knows. 

Yours,

Ashes

Remembering

 

Dear Elle,

    I know it must seem strange that I write. But there's a lot I haven't said. While it was ill advised to contact you, I did what I did. It is done. I held onto to some words for many years. Now you have most. Let me add a few more. 

    I met you in '97. It was night. I was standing in line at the old medication window, lost in my thoughts. Black as night. So very lost. So far away that I was barely still alive, barely still on earth. I could show you the exact spot. A voice came alive, warm and kind. Gentle. And still, I was far, yet I could not help but think to myself... I need to know this voice. There you were. There you were. I remember you said I must be new, you asked my name. you gave me yours. you told me about your family, your kids, and there I felt safe, and didn't want to leave. 

    There's reasons I'm still here. They talk about healing, about moving on. I don't understand what that looks like exactly. I'm trying to understand. But I can't forget. I can't. I don't have it in me to forget. Some days it's like sitting in stasis. But the days change. And people move on. And I have to understand where I go from here. I know it's people like you that keep me here. 

Yours,

Ashes

Fall is not far. It reminds me of my old friend. I met her in late august, I believe. She is Leaves of September...

I’ve forgotten only what I want to remember

I’m trying so hard to recall that September

When we were building the world anew

You saw everything in me, and I in you.

 

You taught my eyes and mind to see

A world, the same, but differently

You showed me how to trust myself

Instead of trying to be someone else.

 

And though you saw that me so clearly

And helped me to try to simply be

You didn’t see what was before you

Or the entirety of what you signed up for

 

Now I know I must remember

And blow to life hope’s dying ember

There is so much that I’ve forgotten of that fall

The Good, along with all that I don’t wish to recall

 

I’ve forgotten the smiles, both mine and yours

Yet I remember the goodbyes, all the more

All of the big things, small things, and more

I remember the sorrow and have forgotten the joy

 

I know you’re still out there!

And I wonder, am I?

I wonder what happens after goodbye?

 

Do you remember,

Can you remind me?

What do I do…

when only sorrow finds me?

 

Tell me my friend,

Help me remember

I need to find my way back

To the me of September

 

Soon the leaves will change my friend

Can I build that world again?

And be the person I want to remember

And find my way back to the me of September

 

I think that you know

Can you remind me?

What do I do

To remember, to find me?

 

Once you opened my eyes anew

And showed me a world I never knew

But then you disappeared so fast

And I crashed right back into the past.

I found myself lost within a dream

My consciousness, a memory stream

 

And I miss you when the skies are light

And I miss you when they’re dark

 

I want to be that me again

I wish you would remind me

I’ll try to be that me alone

I hope that I can find me

©️ 2020, Accountec, LLC

Mood Stabilizer

Dear Elle,

Did you ever know? Did you ever realize how much you meant to me? Can you understand that? You were my Lithium. So long as you were near, I felt calm. 

Ashes

Gus

Dear Gus,

You may not remember me, but I remember you. I met you before I met Elle or Anna. You were my tech back in the nineties in one of my first stints at MIP. You were with me on suicide watch. I remember you because you used to give me writing prompts before my writing started scaring the workers. You had brown hair and a mustache. Glasses. You were quiet. Cheerful. I haven't seen you in decades. I'm sorry yall couldn't fix me. But... it was nice knowing you.

Ashes

Spidey Here

    Ebbyone, back away from di arachnid! Spidey's not angwy ennymore. 'Sides, cobwebs to weave, black widow to pind. 

Resource for cPTSD

 Beauty After Bruises

I'm coming back to reality, but if the hospital wants to help, they need to work with my LPC, not against.

Chaos

 

My life truly has been chaotic. That said, after consulting with Psychiatrist A, who talked to Psychiatrist B, who sympathized with LPC B's fight with Psych A, and having LPC B consult with LPC A, then bouncing to Psychiatrist C, who moved me to Psychiatrist D, inbetween bouncing between Psych hospitals A, B and C... we may finally be getting somewhere, Though Psy .D. has still not talked to 

LPC B. 

This really is annoying. 

Anyone else on the East Coast got an opinion?

Meanwhile I'm trying to coordinate DUD with Accountec to get all my tax and organizational documents in place. 

Under the belt

Dear coffee,

So the journey continues. Tell everyone I said hi. Another counseling session under the belt, and it seems like the plan is clear. I'll be staying on the outside. I might try the outpatient program one more time. Work out some kinks. Im going to have to dedicate some time to promoting trauma research and resources. We need to learn. 

All my best,

Ashes

Wanted: Read or Blondely Alive

    Wanted: One Black Widow, for mating and related activities, nest building, cobweb spinning, and other duties as required. Must have excellent communication skills, a sense of humor, and a down-to-earth personality. Nursing or doctorate degree a plus. Interest in History or video games a plus. No kickers, biters, or yellers. 

    Please submit letter of inquiry to ashesndust@outlook.com. Serious inquiries only. 

What Spidey Tink

    What Spidey dudent understand is WHY ALL DEESE HUMANS TRYING TO STEP ON ME????? Spidey make nice cobwebs. Berry nice.

    Today, I took some time to restore my lantern. Maybe a little metal polish to finish it off. Then I'm going to put a scented candle inside. Put it on the mantel.

Idea

    I think I realized how I got off track with the hospital. I got too focused on the legal threats. What I need is that sense of humor. It's all about the focus. I need to focus on some joy and some humor, not a regimented idea of taking exactly this medicine at this time, etc.

Sarah

 Dear Elle,

    I've been working on getting this place in order. Have you played tennis? I used to enjoy hitting the ball around. That was before I got into pickleball. I've been having trouble motivating. It's just not the same anymore. But I try to remember your example. 

    The girls are so much fun. Everyday, we get together... Jess does cartwheels and handstands, plays games with the others. Jenn contemplates the greater mysteries... sometimes we take a break and go out. Ashes got some new lighters for the incense, thinks about burning down hospitals. It's great. We try to discourage him. Vlad's always flying around, trying to keep everyone on the same page... We've been having trouble writing. I think we got off track with the hospital. They don't like DID so much. 

    It's really a relief to open up sometimes, let us all out. We just be ourselves. Hard to do that in the real world. That's why we need to stay out of hospitals. I hope you are well.

Love,

Sarah

Good Wednesday Greenville County

     This is yor FABORITE arachnid, SPIDEY! I'll be yor host for today's edition of DarknessUntilDawn!

    In Healthcare News, five days ago, an outpatient hospital was approved for Patewood drive. It will be focused on providing top notch, quality care for non-overnight hospital stays.

    More then 100,000 South Carolinians could lose health coverage due to a loss of health care subsidies in the federal budget. 

    Onto di wedder, the heat wave will be continuing until the end ob di day. Stay hydrated and watch your sun exposure!

    Best wishes and stay safe Greenville!

Bipolar

 This was so much simpler when we thought I had Bipolar, but it wasn't Bipolar, I was miserable, and the meds were making me worse. Bad psychiatry.

 It's very hard to keep up with conversations or maintain focus. I'm struggling with executive skills

 Ive been rather agitated and fixated on the medical. The counselor says dissociation the psych says brain fog. 

Waiting

     Right now I'm waiting for the psych to get back from vacation so I can decide between inpatient and outpatient. I barely function. Not sleeping much, can't stop thinking about the hospital. Spaced out, the ad thing won't even add my site. Keeps coming back with explanations I don't understand. I've been talking with the oncall. I feel a sense of urgency to act but I don't know what to do and I can barely think straight. The Hospital used to feel safe.

sick

    My family and the hospital are not being realistic about the nature and severity of my mental illness, and that is a huge concern. They believe I am more functional than I actually am and that the difference can be attributed to THC, which is false. This worries me because if I need help, they will treat the wrong problem with the wrong solutions and I won't get the help I need, and I feel that I'm likely to need help, given the debilitating nature of DID. Mental Health has many myths, this is one I was not aware of. 

    It makes me very nervous around family and hospital staff, because I don't know what to expect. Sometimes it takes me a while to recover from an encounter. The stress exhausts me and sometimes makes me physically sick. 

Polyvagal and hospitals

I really do believe that rather then trying to force confessions out of people regarding sexuality or drugs, the hospital could cut the bullshit threats and learn and apply polyvagal theory better. I'm not an addict, I'm not a criminal, and they are full of shit for implying so.

What i worry about...

Is what happens the next time I need help? Everyone needs help now and then. Do I lose the house nexttime? Do we go legal? What happens nexttime? That's why I need to manage my stress, keep plenty of personal space. Because there's bulls in the China shops. They don't care about facts, they care about narratives. They think im out here having fun and thats the story they will tell. Nevermind the truth. This is why I cant talk to some people. It's thier narrative.