i am putting this back up today because everybody is making me mad.
i wrote it a week ago, and then took it down the following morning:
It comes upon me to write this post exposing my father’s folly in his married and other personal life after about 6 1/4 years since a suicide attempt that almost killed me through secondary reasons.
Since that time, my mother has died; and all kinds of serious accusations are being made, as always, to bring strange and serious accusations about me
There are two reports that I need to address.
The first is a report that I made, at some point in the last 3 months during my recent hospitalization following the memorial service for my mother that I did not attend because I was afraid to see those old friends and aquaintances again; this report was that i remembered my father and my mother held me between them and flicked my nipples to make me cry when I was just a little child; I said this over and over at the hospital and I have to take it back. I don’t know where in my that image came from, but I have to report that at this time I have no reason to believe that this report is correct; the same is true of the report I also made at several times that one or other of them nicked my clitoris with a knife blade to give me the bad nerve I have there, its true that I have a bad nerve there but I have no particular information supporting that that is what it came from.
I know that people see this website and some of them know who I am, that’s all that I know, and I know that I need to make this report here.
For a long time, I have reported that I have a “permanent clitoral erection,” a condition confirmed to me by a “pain uro-gynecologist” in this area. At the hospital, where they said “You’re hired,” when they brought me in after they picked me up from the side of the road; I reported that my goal for my hospital stay was to integrate my multiple personalities from serial dissociative personality disorder, a form of multiple personality disorder that involves psychotic breaks between different personalities over different times and places.
For instance, I went away to boarding school in Connecticut, and completely lost track of who I had been in public grade school in New Jersey. Then, somehow I got into Harvard College. The problem there was that I couldn’t hide; so, because I couldn’t hide after that, and for their own protection, my parents put me in a PA state hospital after that; and I’ve been on the run ever since. That’s a little tough to swallow; but it happened. The truth can be stranger than fiction.
I intend to file a lawsuit and write two novels. That I have been saying along along, following my mother’s death; and it remains true.
But, pursuant to the hospitalization, I made the choice to return here to my father’s home. It was a good and well-thought out choice; I stand by it. But it needs a little defense tonight because my father is coming upon the ropes tonight and he expects me to acquiesce and I’m not going to.
I don’t know where those images about myself as a child come from; but they reflect a psychological if not a physical reality of some kind about the tenor of our childhood.
It is horrible for me to see my father–innocent and helpless in his old age–unable to defend himself for the evil wrought by him and without a defense or my mother’s protection any longer. And then, at the same time, I am saying to myself, ? Helpless? What about me? What about my son? What about me and my ex-husband? We have been pawns in my father’s desperate “chess-game” since his stroke;
that is the situaiton.
There is a song: “Where there is a problem, the Lord always has a solution.”
I remember how reassuring it was decades ago when my father said, “Sometimes when there is a problem, there is no solution.”
But, things have changed. There have been “paradigm shifts.”
I’m sorry, I can’t attribute my sources.
My father’s need for help is not the only desperate issue anymore; he’s written his book; my brother’s death changed things; and now my mother is gone too.
Time moves on.
Things have been left unaddressed,
So, I am leaving this an open question for the night, some issues of vulnerable entities are left hanging until tomorrow and I likely won’t be up until noon because of the return to a high dose of Clozaril that I had been slowly tapered off of before my mother’s death.
Things have proved through and trickled through over the years; and it’s not what people thought; so, I will have to look at this again tomorrow.