Blackie/Whitie

[Ami]

I feel more present, more real. My dream is to be real, to  feel real. What a dream to have.  You think people's dreams are so different than wanting to be real but that is my dream, for sure.            Ami

[Ami]

Whitie is coming out of dissociation. Feeling real is like breathing clean,mountain air. Is life really out there that is not under  distorted glass  like a myopic lens.
 It was Whitie who was not real, not other people.
 Nothing felt real in her life except her children.

[Ami]

Whitie wakes up every day at 3 AM. She SEES Mother. She sees her life. Her stomach hurts. Was it really this way?
So much denial . She had  pretty things. Was there really abuse or did she make it all up--Big Baby that she is.
Is she simply an old horse who should be beaten ONE more time to get her moving?
Was it real? Was it real?

[Ami]

She was punished for wanting any self. To Whitie, a self is better than anything, as you know.A self makes the world bearable not some horrible monster bearing down on you.
 Whitie had to escape in to her room. She was too fragile for the world without the armor of a self. She let people pick her apart like birds of prey.
 Everyone was mother. Everyone was her past.
 The past was the present. Everything was numb. Whitie had to hold on to herself so she wouldn't scream and scream and scream and then they would take her away.

[Ami]

She didn't want to be taken away to mental health people. Mother was a mental health person. Is the world topsy -turvey ?
 Mother hangs out a shingle and people come.
 That is it's own chapter in Whitie's book  "It's a Crazy Ass World" by Whitie Smith.

[Ami]

God sends Whitie wonderful people. That one is a sure thing. Whitie gets the best of the best. God watches over the orphans ,most especially.
 Whitie quotes the verse "When my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will lift me up."
 God hears. I am sure of it.
 

[Ami]

                                                  Having Friends
 Whitie used to be a very sociable person long ago when she had a self. Whitie liked to go out and do things. Then, nothing mattered.
Life was   like  walking through mud--one foot after another.
She looked down the line to see if there was any hope. Maybe far away off in the distance but when she got there it was gone.

[Ami]

Hope is powerful. Whitie can tell you that no hope takes you on the road to death. Whitie is in her pretty house just as in childhood .
Whitie can't get out just as in childhood. This time there is a door but Whitie can't take it .
White is frozen  moving her mouth in a frozen smile .

[Ami]

Intimacy is so scary: in to me--see.The last time Whitie was vulnerable, NM seared her with a hot iron.It hurts Whities stomach to think of letting someone in.
 Whitie hopes when her self gets stronger it will be more tolerable.
 When you know who you are and that no one can take it from you, it should be OK. I would think .

[Ami]

You know the whole joke of the thing? Whitie is just like anyone else--a person.  All the bad was just BS. Mother and all her BAD was nothing but nothing.

[Ami]

Whitie is coming out of dissociation. The depression  is a ball buster--pure and simple.
 There is no good way to say it.  The pain is terrible .
Whitie feels it as sharper, now. It wants to pull her down. She remembers having panic attacks at a  young age--maybe even before Kindergarten.
 She was afraid to go to sleep cuz she might die. She was afraid to go out of the house cuz she might get sick.
 She knew that life was not safe. NM might just go over the carefully balanced edge in to who knows what.
 She had to be so much smarter than your average kid .
It takes a terrible toll : pushing things down, down, down.
They have to go somewhere. Don' t they?

[Ami]

They go down, down ,down to some nether depths where they become soup. The  problem is  the soup won't  stay there.It  boils over when you are trying to do normal things like have a relationship.
 It doesn't work,long term , to keep adding to the soup and not expect to go postal ,one day.
 It is just how it is.
 HOW do they go postal, anyway?
 The soup just boiled over cuz it reached the top and there was no place to go---duh?

[Ami]

The pain of coming out of disassociation is really hard. I don't know if anyone has been there.Alice Miller writes about it. Sometimes Alice Miller is the only one who keeps you sane.
 I chose  the non drug route but it really hurts. I will say that and need to. Just need to say it.       

[Portia]

(((((((((Ami))))))))) my bud
yes and the rewards (of reality) are equally strong. I just went through some 'aftershocks': deliberately thinking about/remembering some 'unreal'/fake/drama crappola that I 'witnessed' last year. I say witnessed, because I was thinking.....I 'saw' what was happening, I was the witness, the seeing witness, amongst....I dunno: other players in the manufactured drama. What did they all see? What could I have seen through their eyes? Not as much, I think. Some days it is a heavy weight; other days it is much lighter. Just ordinary days! One after another.

[Ami]

So beautiful to see your response ((Portia)))) Thank you, Sweetie, so much.   x o x o Ami