Mayhem

Little Ronnie is looking for her mother, and it seems like there is no consoling her. Also, the Mean One wants us all to die. Who to tend to first?

Meanwhile, someone messed with the settings on my phone. Letty, perhaps?

Never a dull moment …

Take care all,

Beatriz

Letty here again

Hi guys,

Its Letty. We have been quiet on the blog. Beatriz is having a hard time getting used to some of us. She gets headaches, and there’s someone inside who is mean and tries to make her think she should die. She fights it but the fight makes her very tired.

We came to Dans house for the weekend. I helped Beatriz make peanut butter cookies and chocolate candies. Dan thinks we should live with him for a while until Beatriz gets better. I think it’s a good idea. Dan is nice. He a little strict but that’s ok. Even little Ronnie likes him but I have to keep stopping her from calling him Dad.

I hope Beatriz decides to move us in with Dan for a while. I like how organized he is. Beatriz is not organized at home. But Dan does not have a lot of sweets. He is very very healthy. I hope I can still have gummy bears if we live here.

Sincerely,

Letty – 10 years old

?!?!?!?!?!

I have to get rid of the cacophony of noise in my head. Everyone is all stirred up, and I am out of options for calming everyone down. It’s times like this that I really wonder why I try so hard. I used to drink to get rid of the triggers. I had sex to excess, and that addiction helped me ignore the dissociation. Four years ago I gave up drinking and addictive sex. Now that I don’t have those crutches everything is horribly visible to me. I can hear and feel everything. In a way I am glad I did not have the knowledge of how it would be at the time I decided to quit. I may not have quit if I had known it would be like this.

The truth is that I am just holding on, and I am not even sure why. Why hold on? So that I can be in the same damn spot a year from now?

Someone inside of me wants to die, and I have to tell you that it becomes harder and harder to talk sense into them. I just numbly ignore the desire and go about my day, but it’s always there in the back of my head, gnawing and wanting to be done.

It is all a ruse, an act. I’m hardly sane. I just go through the motions, acting the part of normal human being. But, really, it is not real. What is real is in my head, and it is not for public consumption. It’s hardly for my own consumption.

I feel like I am out of options, out of choices. I see Doc in the morning. Whoop de doo. I’m not happy with him either.

I have to sleep, and I am not up for it. I am even annoying myself with how much of a prickly pear I am today.

God, give me a clue as to what I am supposed to be doing because I have no flipping idea.