April 11, 202
Right now I am on fire for the Lord.
But that doesn’t mean much because I am a handicapped cripple and I cant even move my neck let alone offer anything to the world around me.
Except to say STOP. I’m okay. It’s always been this way it’s just that I am saying it now.
Just received my new sneakers from Amazon, they are perfect. The most comfortable shoes I have ever worn. I have 2 pairs now. 40$ a piece which means they are well made just not too flashy which I wouldn’t have wanted. I am changing my style. I finally realized that I am a mature woman and to stop trying to find the 20 year old inside me!
I have so much to do. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Grief work, goodbyies that were never said. Apologies that should have been made.
This is serial dissociate disorder in an obscene form. Once upon a time there wouldn’t have been a word for it but now there is. It is different from multiple personality disorder. It is a normal coping function in a normal function gone out of control. You move, you lose some friends, Your language changes a bit. Whether its a long-distance move or a short one, things change a bit. If it happenes too many times you start to “dissociate” You can’t keep it together about old, important friendships from the past and you don’t feel too good about trying to form new friendships or maintain old ones. In Florida, where EVERYBODY was from somewhere else, someone said to me, “You;ve been too many places. And this was true. My ex and I and then my baby, my ex and I had moved all the way around the continent in the space of about 3 years; and I was in a desperate medical situation that was getting worse and worse with the moves. I just couldn’t connect with anyone any more. Hence the psychotherapy relationships. They were my only human contacts. I WAS NOT HAVING SEX WITH MY MALE PSYCHOTHERAPISTS OR PSYCHIATRISTS. I did not get along with female care and I sometimes romanticized my therapy with male therapists, but I never ventured more than the Florida psych handshake with any therapy in Florida and that is a FACT and anyone who wants to take me on about that can take me on at high noon some day soon.
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Published by
L Murphy
I am a mother of a handsome 29-year-old son, handsome like his father. I never knew that his father was handsome until I recently looked back on old photos. We never made eye contact. Things got worse and worse. The Lord wants us back together. This is our story.
Un.Bon.Mot 