We were doing pretty well, despite the depression that has been hanging around us. Well, that is up until Monday morning. That was when Marshall discovered a bunch of papers stuffed and I do mean Stuffed in the door. They were the eviction papers. The very thing we have been dreading and panicked about for the last couple of months or so finally happened.
The other shoe dropped.
In total we have been living in fear and uncertainty for 37 months straight now. Do you have any idea what that is like? One thing that was done over and over in the beginning and well, pretty much all the way through is that they (Wells Fargo and their scum sucking legal firm of Hunt Leibert) did was dangle hope and then snatch it away in the most horrible ways.
You end up living in fear that a big moving truck with a bunch of cops is going to pull up at any moment. At first you dismiss it as not rational and then you start to breathe easier and shake less at the end of the day and not as much on the weekends… you realize that the lessening of the panic coincides with the end of the usual work day. (The Sheriff is not likely to come after that.) Reality shifts and the panic comes with every noise no matter what the time of day or night it is. We have convinced ourselves that this particular Sheriff works 24/7 so he or she can come at any time.
We started to relax a little, just a little. The dissociation was lessening. We actually started to sing with Pandora last weekend for the first time in over a year and a half and started to see some light at the end of the tunnel. Little did we know it was actually a train barreling down on us.
Bring us back to the other shoe dropping. THAT, shoved us right down the rabbit hole. The dissociating came back stronger than ever. Some of it we are aware of some not and then there is the loss of time again. This affects all of us within The Collective. Here’s a sample:
Some of the little ones are huddled together in a corner relentlessly sobbing. Scared to death but not totally sure why or of what, just that they are hurting badly deep deep down to their very being.
Roxy is like “Fuck’em all, we’ve been through the wringer already we can do it again and put them through the ringer instead this time. Fucking fuck heads.”
Bitch is more action oriented with her wishes this time around. Let’s just leave it at baseball bat, banks, lawyers and home preservation specialists.
Angel is more like “Let’s go get fucked.”
Melany is like “Can’t do this anymore, don’t make me go through this anymore.”
DieAnne is the hardest one to shake because all she is doing is pushing the love she has for Marshall away and planning for our death. She wants to do it in a way where she can experience the life draining out of her. Not at the house, at the parents grave. According to her, she has things to take care of first. ~~We are not planning on letting her get away with that and we have expressed concern to one of our therapists and have a safe plan.~~
Some of the other Dark Ones (Diane, Wendy, Heidi wants one of the others to actually do it but she wants to feel it too) just want to cut to release some of the internal anguish.
Beyond Wendy simply feels defeated, ready to lay down her guns and give up.
Beyond Heidi… we can’t even find her.
Fantasia is just oblivious chasing fireflies.
Some of the others either see a teensy weensy prick of light or sunshine… they would be Joanna, Joni, Chamille, once in a blue moon when Melany can get the others she cares for to release their grip on her, she will see a prick of light too.
The Dead One is already dead so she doesn’t have an opinion.
The dirty lost little girl with the curls that no one wants around simply feels at home with this chaos. It’s all she has ever known.
Oh, there’s more, much more but I – Diana – am tired so I will leave you with this thought:
Imagine that you are feeling all the emotions from each one of the above mentioned members of The Collective AT THE SAME TIME. You feel their feelings at the same time, you hear them talking or crying or screaming… the hopelessness the hope, to cut or not to cut, just look at the knife, just touch the knife, back away from the knife… we can do this we can’t do it anymore, we give up I want to fight, I want to die I want to live… etc.
Can you say feeling like this:
Until Next Time…
Blessed Be ~ Diana (March 12, 2015)
p.s. I forgot to tell you that the car crapped out as well… the one and only car we had. No money to fix it, barely any money to keep the lights on.