Maddy-Love, Part One of Two.

you read it right... part one of two. i'll post the second half of the interview later this week. possibly, wednesday. thing was, i just couldn't stop asking questions.

what a lovely sport she is, and an example of making lemonade of life's lemons.

i can't remember how it was that our meeting came about. it just happened... over the last few months, i've laughed and cried and hoped and prayed that this precious being would pull through.

i've often thought that i would give her some thoughts to think about, or possibly provide insight into a situation that's troubling... but in reality, i go to her for inspiration. i have nothing to offer her except friendship, and she gladly accepts. but, i get so much in return... i get the wisdom of a brother through her words. i get a loving adult who was molded out of a violent childhood.

this one is special to me... my maddy-love.


you know i love your writing. there are times when reading your words that i want to find you, grab you around the waist, and hug the hurt away. it really has become a physical pain for me... because, well... i've grown attached to you. they aren't just words anymore, they are you.

i'm not the only one that feels this way. many people do. you never really expected this type of reaction, did you?

hey rick

you know - its funny that you say it that way. 'theyre not just words anymore - they are you'.

in a very real way thats exactly what my words are. which is maybe why i kinda have a reaction when when people ask me to speak differently :/

bein multi aint somethin ive talked much about on my yonder place. not much. i dunno why. but its always there for me huh?

ive been diagnosed with what psych folks would call 'dissociative identiy disorder' for bout 11 years. im actually not the part of who-we-are that was 'out' for most of our life. i was a protector part. i was round to keep the others who share 'my' body safe. i did that by tellin everyone else to fuck off mostly :/ i built a wall and i guarded it close.

so yeah. my words ARE me. the realest me i have. i dont sense body as a part of who-i-am. its just a skin i slip on so that i can act and be and relate to others.

am i confusin you yet? :)

and no - i didnt expect anyone to connect to my writin. cuz my words are for me ya know? and guess i didnt think anyone else would really want to plow through them. im not the chirpiest person in the world or nothin. and some of the stuff i talk about is real hard eh? :/

the fact that anyone can connect to my words - feel some of what i feel - hear things ive held inside for so much of my livin - fuck. i cant describe what thats like rick.

scarey. movin. empowerin.

its a blessin i didnt look for. lots of the best kinds seem to work like that huh? :)

im not a writer. i should say that. i was a therapist - back when i wasnt so messed up and that. id like to be that again one day. im hopin that my writin will help me get there.

don't sell yourself short, love. you are a writer. it's why i have been anxious to talk with you at length... there is presentation to your writing that visually reaches out and wants to be loved, to be understood, to understand, to make sense of emotion.

memories come fast and hard, i've noticed. some days, the memories areas beautiful as your eyes, while other days memories strike the very center of your turbulant past.

most days, there's a very common theme, mat. tell me about your brother...

well - guess when i say im not a writer i mean i dont write with a lot of thought - if that makes sense? its just words and words and words and they flow through me and i post. sometimes i go back and edit a bit. not often tho :/ feels like real writin should be more work ya know?

and
my brother

oyeah :(

he does show up a lot in my writin. i miss him. it feels like time shouldve stopped when he died ya know? some days i look round and wonder how the world can exist without him in it. guess it feels like mine doesnt in lotsa ways :(

mat raised me and my sister. he was 6 years older than me, and ky was kinda in the middle. they both had a different mom. she killed herself when mat was 4. she was annishinaabe (ojibwe), and my brother and sister both look lots like her.

we grew up on farms. the place im livin now was one of em. and my dad was real violent, and he was mentally ill i guess. like he hallucinated a lot. his 'visions', he called them. and somehow lots of what he saw related to my brother. he saw mat as a demon and that. we would listen to sermons growin up - i dunno what else to call them - and dad would tell us how mat was evil and hed been born that way and he needed to be punished so that god would forgive his sins. and guess dad took his role as gods punisher pretty serious huh? :/

my brother didnt have a name growin up. he wasnt allowed to eat our food. he wasnt allowed to speak when dad was around. and every thing we did wrong - he got in shit for too huh? cuz he was sposed to be watchin us. he was responsible. so hed be the one to get beat over it.

and the beatins were real bad :(

he was the sweetest kid tho. he really was. he played with us, and made us toys. he sang me to sleep every night he was well enough and that. he brushed the tangles outta my hair every mornin. hed always tug on the ends when he was done. 'there ya go haystack - all set'. with his slanty sunshine kinda smile :)

he taught me how to read and brush my teeth and take care of animals andhide from dad. he protected me and my sister with everythin he had. he wouldve given his life for us. there were many times he nearly did.

i lost him for 16 years. mom kicked him out when he was 17 - and then moved me and ky a couple of thousand miles away so that he couldnt find us and take us to live with him. wasnt till a few years back that i got up the strength to look for him. i was real scared of what id find out ya know? mom told us so many stories over the years. dad killed him. he killed himself. he ran away. hes in jail for life. and i didnt know what was true. and findin out that he was dead was bout the worst thing i could think of.

i wasted so much time. sittin with that fear :(

but eventually i dug up his number through a police contact i had - and we met up in a coffee shop one day. and he was the same kid id known all those years ago huh? :) unreal beautiful and a giant size heart - and he made me crack up laughin almost right away. first thing he sed after how much hed missed me was 'shit pete - you aint grown much eh'?

i had in back in my life for close to 4 years. and shit - we fought sometimes and he could be an absolute ass. but it was the best time i ever had. the happiest ever after.

he died of leukemia 10 months ago yesterday. he fought it real hard. conditionin chemotherapy and radiation and two stem cell transplants (with kys cells - i wasnt a match :/). lots of close calls with illnesses he picked up cuz his immune system was such shit.

and then he died. i was there. i got to say goodbye.

he left behind his long-term girlfriend, and an 8 year old daughter. along with so many sweet friends who loved him dear. they paid for his funeral. they helped rebuild the place he was hurt into a somethin beautiful and filled with love.

i got real sick after he passed away. i couldnt eat huh? not for weeks. i think part of me wanted to go with him. real bad. part of me still does i guess :( feels like a lot of empty years with him gone.

he sed we shared a heart, me and him. and thats what it feels like huh? like half my heart is missin always. and the rest of it dont work so well :/

when you say you didn't eat for weeks... was this a one time thing, or have you battled with eating disorders prior? since?

ive always struggled with eatin. i still do. every day.

not cuz i think im fat or anythin like that. its one of the things that screws with my treatment for it. i dont do well in hospital programs, cuz they focus on body distortion shit. i know im too skinny. i just dont like food is all.

i spent lotsa years watchin my brother starve rick. literally starve. he used to eat feed meant for the horses - and hed puke it up always and that. its not somethin people can eat huh? me and my sister used to steal stuff for him sometimes - but if we got caught it was pretty bad :/ and when he was doin his chemo he lost alot of weight - and guess that triggered lotsa stuff for me ya know? it was like back then. sittin at the table and mom rappin her fork against my plate. 'i cooked all day and youd better eat it girl'. so id haveta shovel things down - while he watched from his spot on the floor. dad sed he could beg like the dogs, if he wanted to eat. mat wouldnt beg tho. he was a stubborn kid. stubborn man too.

i was 61 pounds when i first went into hospital last year. was about 5 weeks after mat died. ive been in and out lots since. fucked up my heart pretty bad and that - cuz it shrinks along with the rest of you huh? so i did some permanent damage to the muscle. wound up havin serious episodes of an arryhythmia called torsades de points. its what they think causes sudden deaths for many seriously anorexic women.

i have an implant now, to help regulate my heartbeat. theyre not sure if ill need it forever or not. im hopin not :/ im 30 ya know? feel kinda young to have a pacer :/

i know that i still dont eat as well as i should. i never feel hungry huh? i dont experience any cues from my body sayin 'feed me' - its more the opposite :/ if i mess up, i usually notice when i get dizzy or spacey - cuz my blood sugar goes wonky and that. i wear an alarm on my watch these days. when it goes off - i gotta have a snack :) that seems to work ok.

so im doin better huh? gettin there. havent been back in hospital since my surgery, which is real cool :)

i have so many questions... you don't mind if i keep asking do you? maddy, you're precious. you're strong and delicate... i've never met anyone like you, and i'm honored that we have a budding friendship.

these are things that i've wanted to ask you since first reading you, so i hope you don't mind. please let me know if you are starting to feel uncomfortable...

in your writing, you've mentioned your violent past at various points. it really hits home when it's condensed... almost like an ultra-emotional timeline. for me at least...

recently you explained your tattoo drawn by your brother. did he paint the portrait on your blog?

nope - i dont mind the questions. if theres anythin i dont feel safe answerin ill let you know k? ive got good boundaries like that :)

i have experienced lots of violence. from dad. from a slimy uncle i lived with for a couple years. from moms new husband. from katies sperm donor dude. and on and on i guess. its quite the list really :/

mat did paint the green lady on my site. its a pre-paintin really. one of the quick sketches hed do as part of a larger work. playin with the colours and forms and all that kinda stuff.

he was real good, as an artist. his works sold well - and people paid high for em. hes got a totem in a large conservation park near our old home. he has some paintins in smaller galleries in the city. some others in fancy office buildins.

he quit sellin his stuff bout 3 years ago. he sed he didnt like bein marketed the way they do it huh? they emphasized him bein metis. they used his looks a lot too. well - he was strickin and that eh? all the scars - and then that pretty face he had. he wound up sayin it felt like he was sellin himself all again. hed rather make houses and cabinets and that kinda thing. 'well it feels less traumatic and shit' :)

he was a musician too, for lotsa years. he stopped cuz of his hands bein messed. his arthritis started gettin bad a few years back. he sed he couldnt bear down enough to be much good anymore huh? i liked to hear him tho. he 'dinked around' up till the end of his life. he sed it was his way of talkin. he wasnt much with words, he felt.

mat was wrong bout himself. he was so bright in other ways - but he was real messed up bout himself. it made me sad. it still does :( he always thought he was dirt huh? guess its hard when you were taught that your whole life :/

but he loved to be alive - and he sure loved other people. he just gave too much sometimes. not just the shirt off his back - but the livin heart from his body. and it was really the only thing i can remember him doin that hurt us. all of us who loved him.

and think i rambled sorta there huh? sorry bout that rick. hope i answered what you asked me somewhere in there :/

and hey it feels like a nice beginnin to a friendship. what ive known in you :)

to be continued...

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Maddy is a gifted writer that can post up to 150 times per day. Just kidding, but she can post quite often in one day, should she so desire. You can find her at http://findingyonder.blogspot.com.

Don't forget to check back for Part Two. Peace.