bitten

[prismaticbleed]

 

A bit of bad news.

I had a yearly doctor's appointment this morning that left me sobbing and shaking uncontrollably in the patient room. The doc (who had seen me for the past 3 years in just as awful a condition) asked what was wrong, and I got the guts to admit I had PTSD and was trans. No other details, just "that's why this is so horrifying for me."
I was almost hysterical when they left me alone. When you have to close your eyes and bite your tongue just to get dressed, praying desperately to God to "make it all stop," you know there's a problem.
But I drove home as if none of it had ever happened. I'm used to that, too.

It rained all day today. That helped so much.
I got home and Laurie was asking me why my emotions were so hard to feel. I said it was because my love was like the sun: "it's always there, shining quietly, yet sometimes I get so used to its radiance that I almost forget why its there. Then storm clouds appear, as they always do, and when everything becomes black and gray and dark I can't remember having ever seen the sun before in my life... but then, it rains. And I remember everything."
She told me to write that down, so I did. It's very true.

Jess wanted to eat fruit all day, and she got so angry when I repeated "no" that, around noon, I gave in and let her have some. She was satisfied, but she left as soon as she had decided the appeal was gone... and I found myself having to endure two hours of awful broken-glass pain all through my torso. Emmett kept trying to vomit it up out of anxiety but I said no, that would just make us sicker. So I exercised for two hours until the pain faded.
I read some more Sandman comics until my mom came home with dinner and an angel food cake (yesterday was the body's birthday; I forgot). She gave me $35 and two shirts, which was nice. Problem is, then I decided "well, it's angel food cake (and Infi loves the stuff); a little bit shouldn't hurt, right?"

As Razor said an hour later... you were dead wrong.

It was one of those incidents when I regained awareness with my eyes closed and a burning all over my body. I hesitantly opened one, and saw red. I closed it again.
Laurie and I tried to figure out what had just happened: we hadn't been warned, it didn't feel manic... but no, it was another stupid "consuming" trigger that set her off. Anything that boosts the feeling of "taking up space" or "being heavy" makes her come out. So that's why eating makes her appear-- it adds substance and weight. That's Tar material. It's exactly what she needs.
Anyway. Laur and I tried to get a feel for what had just occurred, and I was terrified to realize that there HADN'T been any mania. No, she had come out completely quietly, locked the door behind her, and taken out the razor. Her sadism and hatred was hanging in the air as strongly as ever, but this time it stung, like needles stabbing the air, sharp and cruel. Whatever she did, it was coldly intentional, motivated by hate and hate alone.
There was a lot of blood. I felt so sorry for the body, then. What did it do to deserve this? We didn't choose it. Now look at it, swollen and lacerated. I felt bad for it... but that didn't last long, as I was then aware that I was in it, and the shocking dread of dysphoria sank its teeth into my neck like a python and I almost wanted to tear the skin off my bones as well. I felt horrendously guilty, but it was true.

The child voice was slipping badly just now; I had the impression of it hugging itself, petrified, staring at nothing. It kept repeating, almost mindlessly, "I don't like round and soft things. I don't like them at all. They're scary. They're so scary. They're bad. Bad bad bad." Things like that. I was so disturbed myself that I offered to let it write or talk or something, to let it all out, but the thought of having to inhabit the body was apparently so abhorrent that it immediately "flickered out" into silence and imperceptibility. That's when I sat down here and decided to type instead.

...I'm scared of Razor. I'll admit it. I really am.
Jess doesn't attack me often. She did today, but I don't remember it. Point is, though, Jess is just loud and disturbing and she makes daily life very difficult. She's a threat to our sanity and ability to function properly, but she's not a threat to our life. Razor is.
...It was the last cut I noticed, today, but it was the worst. Yes, our legs and chest and stomach were in tatters again, but that was normal. Then I looked up, higher, and suddenly I noticed the thin, cruel necklace of red lines.
I was in shock-- and imagine how Laurie felt. There was no mistaking it; with that brazen action, Razor was threatening to kill us. She was telling us, "I'm not afraid to cut deeper next time." I haven't been that frightened in quite a while, to say the least.
But yeah. This incident was also near proof that no, we can't stop her from fronting, at least not with our current knowledge. We asked a few other multiples on Tumblr for advice and that was all they could give us. "Just don't let her front, can't you do that?" Can you? Honestly, are other systems that nicely managed, that they can literally prevent people from fronting? I'm very happy for them if they are, but the suggestion was a shock at first. "What do you mean "don't let her;" would we be asking if we could?"
I tried talking, I tried pleading, I tried begging. It didn't work. They tried to kill me upstairs too.

The reason for their unfailing sabotage is simple.
Jess anchored to powerlessness, to rebellion. If you tell her to do/ not to do something, she will automatically disobey with spite and malice. So asking her to give us a break may simply be exacerbating the situation. She wants to do whatever we don't want to do. Reason will not budge her.
Razor anchored to hatred. She was born in the first real moment of self-hatred I had ever felt, and since then she's perpetuated it with ravenous glee. She won't listen to us because she hates us, and wants us to die. She doesn't want to die, though, as far as I can tell... which is likely the only reason the body is still standing. Unless she can guarantee her continued existence elsewhere, I don't think those lines around our neck will get any deeper. I hope not. I hope to God she doesn't take the risk.


I'm very tired, inside and out. I didn't get much sleep, I think. I don't really remember.
I'm forgetting how to type and spell again. I feel like Delirium, a little. Maybe.

Wisdom hides even in shadow.
I don't care what Razor did.
It rained today. And for those blissful moments, I remembered.
That is all that matters here.