Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection

The worst possible thing I could do would be to wait any longer. Waiting won't get me anywhere; it's the most unproductive verb out there. I wouldn't even call it a verb. A verb is an action word, and waiting doesn't entail much action at all.

So I decided to stop being so petrified of this disease, and to actually do something about it. I would make an appointment with a psychotherapist like Dr. Cera advised me to do a few weeks ago. That dude was a prick, and Dr. Gibbs is probably back and willing to follow up with me, but I felt like going in a different direction. He'd probably start me on another medication, which would be faulty, just like the Cynosporian. I couldn't go down that dead end road again.

I feel like I have to understand this disease better. I'm dealing with something much greater than myself; something I can't handle or understand alone. Adrienne and I did research last time, but not since it's resurrected - we haven't really done anything since it's resurrected.

Adrienne and I not doing anything is a bit odd the more I think about it. Adrienne is the most proactive person I know. When I was first diagnosed with MPD, she was on her toes, ready to pounce at my mental agony. I don't know if us being sluggish this time around has been a conscious decision or not - I'd like to think not. All I've done is fuck things up; all Adrienne has done is tried to get away from it all, and I don't blame her. I know she cares, but I also knew she had to get out of here. That's why she went to Minnesota to see her family. I think it was a breath of fresh air for her, and taking Jakob was good too; he needs his mom, not me. But leaving Joey was terrible. I mean, I know why he was left with me - so I wouldn't lose my mind or kill someone or something. But leaving him here alone with me was the perfect opportunity for me to screw things up, like I did, with no voice of reason to speak up.

Sometimes I forget the alters are just figments of my imagination. They feel so real. I can't explain it, but if you could just imagine having six crisp, clear, crazy voices inside your head, speaking at any given moment, rebelling against everything you say...well, it's just not something to be envious of.

I really wish I could go back to Strangland.

BJ's whinefest getting to you too?

He's just venting. He deserves to vent.

And I deserve to be free from this hellhole, but you don't see me bitching.

You bitch every chance you get!

And where goes it get me?

Nowhere!

Exactly.

Well, you may be apart of Billie's brain, but venting may be something that helps him cope.
He can't repress all of this forever or he'll break.

Ugh, fine. Commence with the bitching.

Does anyone have earplugs?

I think it would actually be good if you listened to this, Jimmy.

Why? So I can mock him? Because that's all I'm going to do.

It could help you understand what you're putting Billie through.
You're a bully and you need to open your eyes to it.

I need to do the exact opposite, actually.
I need to shut my eyes and sleep through his bitching.

I never even said I was going to bitch. Gloria did.

We're taking precautions in case you do.

Didn't you guys hear anything I was thinking?

No, I've learned to tune it out.

I want to do something productive, and bitching isn't productive. I'm going to talk to Adrienne about an appointment with a psychotherapist. I need to talk to Joey about what happened at Gilman last week too, and tell him and Joey about the MPD. Even if they don't understand it, they have to know I'm not alright.

I think it's obvious that you're not, but ok.

Where is Adrienne?

The store, but she should be back soon.

What are you going to tell her?

I don't know. I never know what to say to her anymore.

She's your wife; it shouldn't be like that.

No, it shouldn't. But this is the craziest situation we've ever been in; we don't know how to behave. The first time, we were so determined and set on me getting cured, but we failed. Well, the medication made me fail. But this time around, we're just awkward it seems. There's a wedge between us; there's no intimacy. I don't want to talk about it with her. I know she wants to help, but I feel like a pest. She just doesn't deserve to go through this, neither do the kids.

And neither do you. But you are, and you have to deal with. And your family loves you - they understand.

You didn't choose this, Billie, and your wife knows that.

Why does Armstrong always need a pep talk?
I swear you gals give him one every fuckin' day.

I've got no motivation, I guess.

Well, you really need to find some.

I heard the door open and shut and bags rustle and knew Adie was home. I felt like a child when mommy or daddy came home from work. I wanted to run down the stairs and tell her everything I was feeling; all the hopes and fears, optimism and pessimism, the agony and freight. I wanted to do all of those things, but my legs just wouldn't move. It took all my will and power to move my scrawny legs down the stairs and face my wife.

"Hey, you're up!" she said gladly. Her peppiness was making me wince. I knew she was probably forcing it, but still. Ugh.

I gave her the most comfortable laugh I could force. I was so frustrated and flustered that I couldn't be 'normal' with her. Everything was a game. Everything was a challenge. Smiling, laughing, talking - it was all planned out, all robotic. Why!? Why couldn't things be easy anymore? She was my wife of 15 years, I know everything about her, I love her more than life itself, and I'm standing here like an idiot, unable to verbalize words.

What's happened to us?

..Stupid question, I know. Don't answer that.

But you know what I mean? We should be communicating regularly, but we're not. We haven't talked in a while, and this is one of those times where communication is fundamental to survival. A good chunk of my mental and emotional well being is counting on Adrienne. She's always been there to fix me, so why can't she now?

All of this fear of love, fear of closeness was scaring the shit out of me, and I knew I had to do something about it before I lost her. I'd rather lose myself than lose Adrienne and live without her. I disregarded the want to tell her everything about the disease, about psychotherapy - everything, and turned that will into passion by kissing her.

Kissing is a weird thing when you think about. You're putting your mouth on someone elses, your tongue in someones mouth and letting theirs explore yours as well. Everybody remembers their first kiss, mainly because of how horrid it was. Some people will kiss anyone; willing to swap germs and cold sores with anyone that puckers up, whereas there are others that have a lock to their saliva gate. It's funny that we're all humans, but we're all so different and unique at the same time. We all have different preferences, different-

Why don't you focus on suffocating your wife instead of the fundamentals of sociology?

Oh, right.

Adrienne was always a good kisser. I was never sure if I was or not, and I wasn't arrogant or curious enough to interrogate her about it. But, it's ok. Adrienne's good at it, so cool for me. If I suck, sorry Adrienne. Sucks for you.

Somehow, we went from being in the kitchen to being in the living room. Sure, the rooms were only a few steps away, a couple feet at most, but I totally missed my legs moving there. Endorphins were flowing, along with hormones and blood. My mind was slightly spazzing, which felt a little ridiculous. I've kissed my wife a trillion times before, but this was different. It felt like we were talking through it, like I didn't even need to tell her about all the hopes and fears, optimism and pessimism, the agony and freight I felt anymore. She didn't have to hear them - she could taste them.

The best part was that the alters were being quiet.

Jinx! You jinxed it!

Shut up!

....

You're actually listening to her? Or do you just not have a comeback?

The last one. Her answer is always 'shut up.' I've run dry of replies to that.

What about "Shut your vagina"?

But Gloria isn't a whore.
That would work for Rusty, though.

You think you're sooo clever, don't you?

I'm pretty pleased, yes.

I still couldn't feel my legs; I began to wonder if paralysis was a symptom of MPD. Luckily, the couch was behind us, so when I lost my balance, we fell on it instead of the floor. I don't think either of us noticed, which was weird, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

I wasn't trying to have sex with her. Sex is nice, sure, but I was trying to coerce Adrienne into sex. I just had a desire to kiss her, so I did. I also had a desire to take off my pants, and she must have too. Nothing unusual, nope.

For once in my life, I wasn't in the mood for the sex. Obviously, I'd be cool with having it; I am a man. But I'd much rather just lay here with her, doing nothing, in a calm, quiet moment. I'd rather soak in her warmth, her body heat. I wanted to relax with her, and maybe talk. Talk about her day. How shopping went at the store. The children. Our lives. The hopes and fears, optimism and pessimism, the agony and freight. She may have tasted it, but now I wanted to talk, but with her naked in my arms.

But that didn't really happen, which is ok; sex is just as good, if not better, even though that sounds kind of bad. But that's just my penis talking. And this sick humor is kind of throwing me off, but I'll take it. It is humor, which is something I haven't come across in quite awhile.

Sex on a couch doesn't really work. It just doesn't. You can try, but it'll be the worst sex you've ever had. Bed sex is much better, it really is. And we both agree on this, so without any discussion, we made our way to the bedroom.

We've gone a long time without truly communicating with each other, and it had been so uncomfortable. But now, we didn't need to talk, and it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was right. The kiss broke down the barrier of what was uncomfortable and what wasn't.

Good job, Armstrong.

Thanks.

I was being sarcastic.
This means you and her are going to talk again. Which means I'll have to hear her voice again. Which means, kill me now.

Can't you enjoy this? This is love. Ever heard of it?

No, I haven't. It sounds so obscure.

They're probably going to have sex, you know.
Which you means you have front row seats to your own private porno.

Eh, ok. That makes this suck a little less.

"Hey," Adrienne said, almost whispering. Slightly hesitant, she said, "I'm sorry." And before I could shoot her apology down, telling her she had nothing to be sorry about, she continued. "I still regret going to Minnesota. That was the worst possible thing I could have done. I still have no clue why I left. I guess I just needed to think about things, and thought maybe you did too. I should've asked you about it instead of just telling you I was going. It was stupid of me to leave you alone. Joey can only do so much, and you aren't in any condition to take care of him, let alone yourself. So, I'm sorry. I was stupid."

If I said to be quiet, you're wrong, I should be sorry, not you, she would've argued with me until I caved in. It just wasn't worth it. Besides, I love Adrienne, but she did need to apologize. I felt bad, but I knew it was eating away at her, even though it wasn't that big of a deal. Well, it actually was. But it's ok.

"Thanks," I told her before kissing her again, holding her now relaxed body in my arms.