Today is a good day, not that I’ve been awake long to enough to know that with any certainty, but simply because I said so! I’ve decided that I’ve been dealing with so much stress lately that I’m in need of a little respite. So I dub this day as good, come what may. (Yes, I may have to eat these words come nightfall, but go along with me, ok? Just smile and nod!)
Today I’m thinking that in spite of everything, I have much to be thankful for. Because this blog focuses on my multiplicity, which is the result of abuses suffered in childhood, it’s not always going to be fun or hap-hap-happy. Well that’s ok. My intention for starting this blog in the first place was a) to give me an outlet for expressing the emotions and confusions regarding my DID, and b) to help educate society on the true nature of this condition. (I know it’s considered a ‘disorder’ but can’t bring myself to write that.)
But there are other things in my daily life which bear mentioning as well. Things like my 3 year old granddaughter trapping a fly between our double-paned living room window and announcing, “Now he’s in the fly pound!” Or, upon waiting for the humidifier in her room to start emiting steam, asking her mom, “Is the appetizer ready yet?”
She feels quite grown up when I allow her to hang out in my room. Not too long ago that didn’t happen very often, as she’s a known pilferer. But she’s older now and mostly just wants to lolligag on my bed and admire my pink walls, and watch Spongebob or Tom & Jerry while I’m busy at the keyboard, writing this blog. Sometimes she looks around at the disarray in my room and pronounces, “Nana, you need to clean your room. It looks like a tornado!” I nod in solemn agreement, for this is all too true. Sometimes my parts are each busy doing their own thing, and I can’t always keep up with them. (But I’ve noticed that no matter how big the mess, it doesn’t keep her from visiting as often as possible.)
There are old movies to watch and revel in, and the enjoyment of buying half a dozen new houseplants, thanks to our landlord who wanted to thank us for being such good tenants. And who, when we called to see if we could get permission to paint the living room something other than its current bland white, said, “Go ahead, I don’t even need to approve of the new color–I trust you.”
The son I live with just received another raise. The other day his boss asked if he’d be interested in taking some training so that he could take on new responsibilities at work. This involves another hike in wages, and working better hours. Five years ago, when he was strung out on heroin, I used to plan his funeral in my imagination. I knew it was just a matter of time, and didn’t want his death to catch me off guard. Every time he left the house I fully expected to never see him alive again. He even lived under a bridge for a while. So the fact that he’s been clean, and worked at the same job for 4 years, is a constant source of amazement to me. He’s an excellent dad as well, and deserves this promotion if anyone does.
I’ve had 3 sons on heroin, and they’re all clean and working at full-time jobs. My #3 son and wife are expecting a baby girl, due on my birthday (how cool is that?) Sometimes when we have a family get together, I nearly blink in surprise to see them all healthy, in their right minds, and doing so well. I would pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming, but pinching hurts. Sometimes a couple of them will bring their guitars and have a little jam session and, that’s it, I’m in 7th Heaven! My dad was a musician, so I’ve always had a soft spot for that particular type of talent.
Nothing will ever make up for the childhood I had stolen from me, but I’d be an idiot not to notice the blessings which surround me every day. I have to deal with the daily reality of my DID and all that it implies. I have to face the consequences of the evil choices the adults in my childhood made which had such an impact on me, but I don’t have to let those choices destroy me. I can say “yes” to life today, and tomorrow, and know that come what may, I have not allowed my abusers to turn me into a hateful, bitter woman. They don’t have the last word on who I am. That’s up to me. Really. It’s up to me to decide if I’m going to let the past dictate my future.
And, finally, there are the new friends I’m making as a result of Beautiful Dreamer. Friends like Aussie, who sent me this whimsical bit of art and granted me kind permission to post it here. Aussie’s been such a source of encouragment to me. I hope she won’t mind my saying that for someone who has no problem telling it like it is, she sure has a gentle spirit and big heart.*
So that’s it, folks. I dub this a good day for all the reasons mentioned above, and for many more than I could begin to count.
I’m not where I want to be, but not where I used to be.
I’m not whole, but striving toward wholeness.
Not happy, but reaching for contentment.
Not at home within myself . . . but warming to my unique identity.
(*For some reason WordPress won’t let me upload the artwork from Aussie.)