And now a word from Adam Smith

Science is the great antidote to the poison of enthusiasm and superstition.
Adam Smith

The Acquired Sanity of Death

I fought

for the

great

revolution

when the

poor will

come first

and

be safe

and

live like

the

happy trash

on TV–

but the

revolution

was

murdered

and

starved–

but I

escaped

into

loony bins

where

I took

pills and

acquired

the sanity

of

death.

B Goldstein July 2015

This post was inspired by a chat with Melinda at Looking for the  Light about my alternate Bobby.

We are Human

I’m depressed this weekend and I don’t think I’m alone.

I feel overwhelmed by life in the United States.

How sad to watch intelligent people defend the rise of cruelty,  lies, and chaos.

Trumpism plays havoc with my DID because this is the abusive world of my childhood: the racist bullies with swastikas and white robes; homophobes who murdered gay  men with impunity.

The 1960’s was a time when it seemed only straight, white male lives mattered but we did have a government that imposed  the rule of law; we did have a government the people could petition for change.

The Trump Administration has declared war on human rights and the rule of law.

His cult members no longer recognize their brothers and sisters as human.

The United States has a sickness and it’s destroying our lives.

I’m going to take a short break this holiday because I need to take care  of myself.

This is not an America I can celebrate.

How sad to progress this far only to come back to life as a  dehumanized target in fear for his life.

We are human.

After all these years, why does this still need to be said?

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

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

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 Sara.

Her reply follows this post.

dear sara,

i’m at battery park in Charleston watching an old guy with a
big box of crackers.

he’s feeding it to a flock of pigeons.

it reminds me of the story of exodus.

you reckon god threw manna at us a watched
us fight?

sometimes i think life is magic but grown ups don’t
wanna talk about magic.

ok, so, i got a question:

let’s say one day u meet someone an this person sez they got alotta  love for you an wanna do good by you but somethin’ dont feel right but you need to be loved an the dude seems straight up but there’s a shadow that you don’t really see but you know it’s there and it feels familiar.

but you don’t want to lose the love so u try to make room for  the shadow by telling yourself it ain’t there, when bam!

you catch the dude in a lie, like when we was robby, with nasty secrets, an the cruel bruises and words that slice your soul.

so you try to talk about it cuz you wanna believe it’s all in your head  so you say to the dude that says he loves you, you say: “i’m scared  that somethin’ is wrong.”

right away he starts calling me names an saying i’m a hater an that i ain’t got no gratitude cuz most folks don’t even want to know me an i think, “damn! this feels familiar!”

the only person that will ever love me will leave if i try to talk about these shadows that are now everywhere so i get confused, cuz I really  want it to be me, cuz maybe i’m imagining it, cuz maybe i’m a hater an  everything about me is wrong.

sara, are those shadows really there?

and i got one last question about thinking life is magic.

how come when i say i think the world is made of magic folks tell me to get over it and grow up?

Love,

Bobby

A Letter from Home: Dear Bobby

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