i have a crew of women in my head. well, mostly women, some are still girls. mind you, it has taken well nigh 20 years to get to the point where we can all just get together and talk about anything. and it is worth pointing out that a few never actually speak, but make themselves present because we have to be in agreement to function.
these days, when the fertilizer hits the ventilator emotionally, we all pile into the middle of the attic and have it out so we can figure out how the hell to handle things and what to do with ourself until the feeling of crisis or disaster or anger or whatever has us on the redline has passed.
last night was a hell of a thing.
we’ve decided that rather than document the conversation, we’re going to document ourselves. mostly because trying to document last night would just thoroughly confuse but also because we think it is helpful to say ‘this is who we are.’
i get to talk about each rather than have them do it themselves. primarily because it insures the list is complete (since at least three of us never actually talk), but it also is generally agreed that it helps to have a single point of egress for expression; we’re working on a way to manage unity, if not literally, then at least in presence.
now you have to understand right up front that there are only two women in this whose words are law, and they rarely “speak” anywhere outside my head.
first, you have Narrator. she doesn’t really have any emotions, but to talk to her, you’d think her the most enraged harpy you’d ever met. she’s got street savvy overtime and she’s both the core coordinator and the threat response unit. if you get too close to something that is still bleeding, you’re going to get a faceful of her and it is almost never pretty.
she is also the one who handles unexpected disaster and life-threatening situations. she’s interesting because she can appear to be any of the others here, but tends to give herself away by her inability to avoid the jugular and her uncanny bottom line orientation.
another thing worth noting, she is one of two whose activities i am not always aware of…. which can be damned scary at times. we’re working on that one. it has begun to improve as she is giving me some of her memories and has agreed to stop snapping off my awareness unless it is important to protecting me from deep wounds.
second, there is the nameless. mind you, what i know of her, i am hearing from Narrator, as i’ve never met her ‘face to face’ so to speak. she speaks in whispers and tends to stay in the corner where it is hard to see her. she is avoided by all the others except Narrator. even what lives in the pit avoids her, which is telling.
as i understand it, she is the un-allowed; the things i would have been but for refusing to be like the ones who raised me. now and again, one of the others will tell me something they heard her say, but i have never had direct contact with her. and from the things they tell me, i do not want to.
Narrator tells me she was the one who put the kid in Creve Coeur in the hospital and also shot that attacker in the kneecap rather than the leg. old memories, those. i see them like watching a movie. i know that’s me, but i have no memory of those activities.
Narrator she says that her purpose is linked with her own. i can figure what that means. it is likely a very good thing that Narrator has her on leash.
next we have the Pit Bitch. she is aggressive anger without thought. she does a pretty good job of it. she has the same lack of care Narrator exhibits, but she’s oriented toward rather than away from others. aggression and violence are her specialties, she takes direction and insight from Narrator and uses it to break (rather than press) the buttons of others in such fashion as to insure they remain out of range.
gatekeeper is the one who manages things and acts as something of a referee when it comes to matters relating to what should or should not be allowed expression. she’s kind of the ms. manners of the crew, which means she is often ignored. picture a harried, frazzled woman who is trying to keep us from looking completely hopeless and you’ve got the idea of her.
she is a little girl. it is hard to talk about her because everything about her is pain and sorrow and fear and loss and its grieving. she sits in the corner of the attic most times, and rocks while she looks outside the window. it has only been in recent years that it was possible to communicate with her at all, all attempts to do so before then resulting only in inciting her to screaming, weeping fits.
her contributions tend to be difficult to understand; delivered in hiccuping fragments that are most often overwhelmed by the difficulty of listening to her whatever. imagine trying to listen to someone who is hurting so badly that you’re hard pressed to listen to her because of the way it makes you hurt.
bodhisattva is a peaceful, insightful, giving and forgiving one. she sees the best in everyone, and accepts it all as perfect and beautiful just as it is. idealistic, but without the disappointed demeanor, she is able to see all sides of things and willing to grant them all equal validity and care.
buddha girl is similar to bodhisattva, but less mature. her interests are mostly those things that deal with doing good for others and taking enjoyment from being able to do so. calm and generally unassuming, she carries a genial humor in relation to life and others that is mostly accepting but sometimes laced with a mildly sardonic view. she’s the one who handles transitional issues — things i want to be able to do but am not quite ready to put myself out there for just yet (though i suppose i am, in a manner of speaking).
bhain sidhe is the emo kid. emo with a decidedly mean streak. she has no issue whatever with venting, eschews all good of whatever has drawn her ire. binary, in a manner of speaking; if it’s bad, there is no good of or in it. generally, she’s the one who takes on the anger and hurt of abandonments and neglects. she is also the one called up when it’s time to figure out where the buttons are in others or how best to push them. she’s really good at knowing where it hurts most…. for obvious reason.
eeyore is precisely like the namesake. depressed, cynical, morose little donkey sitting by the river, weeping for all the things gone wrong and expecting that all will ever do so. hrm. that’s all this one does.
the projectionist is the one who takes all the fears and worries and natters with and at them. she’s the one who will take any situation and pick it apart, noting all the places where the worst possible conclusions may be drawn and making them obvious. she never believes anything is going to work out; she never thinks things are going to ‘go well’. she’s the whisperer in the corner who is always telling me to expect the shoe to drop, the axe or sky to fall, and how everything that seems or feels good at any moment is just an illusion behind which something ugly and hurtful is waiting for me to lower my guard.
then there’s me. sometimes i’m not real sure who i am, since so much of me is all these others. we all kind of blend and shift back and forth between one another. moreso now than we used to, for sure. when i talk in this context, i usually just call myself the dominant, because, for the most part, i am the one who lives every day and goes through the motions of being awake and aware for life.
i know there’s one more floating around in here, but i haven’t met her yet and neither Narrator nor the others will talk about her. i suppose that means she is nameless, too, but not like ‘the nameless’ is…. more an unknown rather than something so ugly and terrible that it doesn’t deserve a name.
interestingly, it has take about four days to get this written, mostly because there is still some degree of argument as to how wise it is to write it at all. some of the girls dislike being pinned down and labeled. others are worried that putting this here is telling too much. some just don’t like that i’m sure to share this with Michael.
for now, it remains a private post and will not see light of day. that may change in future. so, if you’re reading this on the blog, understand it is here now only because it no longer matters that it is here.
take that as you will.