Spaghettification or The Noodle Effect. The process by which (in some theories) an object would be stretched and ripped apart by gravitational forces on falling into a black hole.

Stretched and pulled apart. The Collective is in utter chaos. Pieces have separated again. There is not much integration. A huge step backwards. Shattered. Again.

Into the darkness we were thrust. Chunks fell apart falling everywhere. Leaving the Dead One exposed for the first time. Left alone in the mess of debris. Open. Alone. Terrified. Mute. So tiny. Barely able to move. Vulnerable and defenseless.

The Cutter didn’t cut. She knew this pain was too deep for her to fix. She knew anything she could offer would make things worse for us all. So no offering was made. She screamed into the darkness instead. And screamed and screamed.

Yet we were still mute.

I am left to sweep up the mess and deal with the carnage. Just me. Melany.

I felt Diane’s desperation for this life to be over with already. She is tired and just wants out. She won’t do it herself so all she can do is long for the end and the new beginning in The Mist. In The Mist there is peace and love and understanding and total oneness. For a child she is wise beyond her years.

I felt Wendy’s feeling of worthlessness. Utter hopelessness of ever doing anything good, anything right. Ever. She is convinced that people were right in telling her it was her fault that her father is dead now. They blamed her. If it wasn’t for her neediness to be loved and accepted… it’s a hole that eats her up to this day. She is forever craving it like an addict craves their drug.

DieAnne knew what they expected of her and she was not giving it to them. They would talk bad of her and blame her and her alone. In our defense would be Kiki and Marion. For sure. We know that.

Berated over and over and over again. Beaten down verbally, mentally and emotionally. Used. Used and to be thrown away when all used up. Left alone. Again. Berated with lies and false accusations. Making sure she knows she is worth nothing. She is unlovable. Her love is toxic. Her love is thrown away. Like trash. She is taught it’s better not to love. By who? Someone who knows that love kills. Love hurts. Pain is all there is for her. The constant ache for companionship. For someone to love her.

The only ones I can feel inside that haven’t been blown far away are Diane, Wendy, DieAnne, The Cutter, Bitch, The Dead One and I’m not really sure who else is left. I can feel a few more of the darker ones scattered about. As for the others… Tanya, Missy, Diana… gone. Poof.

I fear we will never find what we are looking for, needing. Why? Some people are simply unlovable is all. We happen to be one of them. Just too broken for it to ever happen. That, for sure was drilled into us so deep it shredded our heart beyond repair. We get it. We are defective beyond repair looking for something only normal people get. We are the cat who was given a home in the water.

On that note…

Love, Melany









The Black Sheep ~ That’s it, I’m Done!

Yup. Done. Fini. It feels gooooood! (I just did a little shimmy when I typed that!! lol) But, yes, I am finished and settled into Step 5 in regard to my family.

The final phase of this model is to let go of your need for the loss and to move on with your life. Sadness will lessen greatly, and new interests will gradually occupy your thoughts more and more, crowding out the misery and desolation. The final stage is when you “pull your life back together”.

My “need” for their acceptance and love is no more. I don’t “need” anyone to be me. All of me. I don’t have to worry anymore about making anyone nervous. I can just BE. I can love them from afar and leave it at that. I’m that puzzle piece that doesn’t fit anywhere. I’m ok with it.

I’m getting into a somewhat regular routine and I like it. On the weekend, either Friday or Saturday night Kiki and I do something… either go out or stay in and watch movies. We went to a Jazz thing one night… let me tell you, I know what it feels like to have ping-pong balls bouncing around in your head now. I found out I do not care for Jazz. It’s too discordant for me.

Counting my blessings instead of focusing on what is missing from my life really helped me get comfy in Stage 5. My life is pretty much pulled back together and I am enjoying it! I enjoy my time with my son, boyfriend, Kiki, my phone and computer time with Marion and Drew and I could go on with a couple more friends but you get the picture. My life is full. All of my me’s feel free finally.

I’m no longer sad, I am not dwelling on the party I won’t be invited to… my precautions are in place and I am at peace. Instead I am thinking about my son and when his next day off is… 🙂 Happy thoughts!

Until next time… Blessed Be… Saila