The Chat – 3-31-2017 Goldstein reblog


Art by Rob Goldstein

Kaitlyn:   Me too. I dream about houses that I’ve seen but don’t
recognize.  And yes. There was a woman. The woman was his
accomplice.  She led the police to Mom’s body after the killer
ditched her.

Benjamin:   Wow! It’s strange I dreamed that woman!
In my dream, she’s in her late forties.

Kaitlyn:  I’ve never seen her. I saw the man though.
It took police a year to find him. The woman never
did time. But he got life.

Benjamin:  Was it a robbery?

Kaitlyn: No. I don’t think so. Mom was found at the woman’s house.

Benjamin: I thought it was a hotel.

Kaitlyn:    No, it was her house.

Benjamin:   She had a house?–was it big?

Kaitlyn:    The woman lived in a housing project. Like the one we grew  up in.
I once drove by out of curiosity.

Benjamin: The house in my dream; it had two floors.


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A Letter from Home: When My Alternates Talk to Each Other-Reblog

Always good.

Art by Rob Goldstein

For those who don’t know my blog, I have DID and a small family
of alternates.

One of my alternates is a 16 year old boy and the other is a
woman named Sara.

They know each other; Sara is a protector and Mother figure.

I found this letter from Bobby to Sara composed in 2010  with her reply.

I am surprised by the correspondence because I didn’t know
my alternates were friends and allies.

The logic of Dissociative Identity Disorder is that ‘split’ aspects
of the self are perceived as “other”.

I think that Sara was the first alternate, which means she
emerged in childhood.

She comes out when one of the younger alters feels threatened.

There are many letters filed under ‘Letters from Home”.

Most of these are from Bobby to Bob.

Bobby wrote this to Sara as a 15-year-old.

It is the only letter from Bobby to…

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Recommended Dissociative Blog

I’d like to make u aware of a blog that apparently won’t permit re-blogging or coming to you in the Reader. My e-mail is usually running over and I miss quite  a few posts (all of them on the social channel of my machine), but you may be interested in visiting Bradley’s “The Bipoar Bear” blog.

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Senator Kamala Harris Appears To Make The Old Boys’ Network In The Senate, Nervous — Gronda Morin

There is not a woman alive who has ever held any executive type position who has not experienced this phenomenon of being interrupted, talked over by male co-workers while she was simply doing her job. There are literally hundreds of published articles out there in the real world, advising women how to navigate successfully under […]

via Senator Kamala Harris Appears To Make The Old Boys’ Network In The Senate, Nervous — Gronda Morin

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The Cat — Heather Sawaya Writing

I thought about calling you

but have no idea

who you really are.

Perfect ending. I’m reblogging.

Heather Sawaya Writing


(Hieronymus Bosch, 1450- 1516)

Part of the program

was to trigger and split

those wounded by rape

and abuse.

It is almost impossible to

not be affected by

such twisted symbolism.

The murder one of it is

that you will not want it

until you want it.

You will adjust

to not feel

this much pain.

Your mind does all it can

to protect you,

distorting the unbearable

into some warped version

of acceptable.

Through the downpour

and over every bridge,

the soul cannot be destroyed

and so

you cannot ever lose who

you truly are.

You will

trying to control and enslave you

you will find strength and peace within

the sanctity of growth symbolism

that will help you resist


and fade alters.

You will surface.

I felt sick today,

headachy and exhausted,


I managed to avoid

the cops’ and the puppets’

ventilation burn and

parable threats.

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Orion’s Wheel reblog – Whimseygizmo

Marvelous imagery…

Whimsygizmo's Blog


We steal celestial moments,
thread our words through belt
loops touched only by
gods light years away.
We call names.

Fall apart.

Whistle and wait
for the echo of
our own syllables.

The stars are pin-prick cat prints
on construction paper,
somebody gnaws a moon
-ring in the black licorice
of this broken sky.



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Of Paradoxes and Pop – by Mimik

So beautifully expressed and wise…I’m reblogging

Waiting for the Karma Truck


So here’s what’s been rolling around in this very addled head of mine…My neighbor Gary is an avid gardener.  So much so, that we have never spoken about anything else.  He came to the door a few weeks back to tell me that our grass was being over-watered and that I should adjust the scheduling of the sprinkler system.  Ok, done.  The other day he flagged down my car to advise me that my grass wasn’t getting enough water (I’m abbreviating the conversation to keep this thing going).

Everything needs water – but not too much.  Every meal should be savored – but not so much that you get heartburn.  My cyber pal David (, is pondering the extremes of emotional bungee jumping, as I extol the state of balance.  But highs are awesome – it’s the lows that suck.  It’s all a paradox (sidebar – Annie LaMott’s Ted…

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