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 Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection

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Moonlight Drive

Moonlight Drive


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PostSubject: Re: Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection   Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection - Page 2 Icon_minitime10/10/2009, 12:24 pm

Ahhhh! I love it! This story is awesome! Very Happy
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Sarahnade.


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PostSubject: Re: Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection   Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection - Page 2 Icon_minitime11/2/2009, 9:52 am

Thanks, Faye! Smile

Chapter 15 - Desperate, but not Hopless

Fuck. Adrienne and Jakob are home. Which means I'll have to talk to both of them at some point about what's going on inside my head. Part of me is happy, and the other part of me is scared to death. Because of everything that happened the last week and a half, I'm not so sure I want anyone to be around. I don't want to tell Adrienne what happened, even though I'm going to have to. I just don't think I can look her in the eyes and tell her what I did, even if it wasn't necessarily 'me' that did it.

Technically, it was you.
Just you in a different state of mind.


More like a different planet of mind.
Or galaxy of mind. Or universe.


Not really.

Hey! You're back!
And don't blame us, Blow Job. That's just stupid.


How so? You're the reason I'm in this mess.

Jeez, you can't just blame me!
Blame is like an STD - you have to spread it to everyone.


Unless you put a cap on your pen.
Or a condom on your penis, in more graphic terms.


Blame isn't a dick, Chris. You suck at analogies.

He's back for two minutes and you're already heckling him.

Of course! That's why I wanted him back.
He's my insult punching bag.


So nice of you.

Hey, I never said I was a saint!

Your name is Saint Jimmy, for Surburbia's sake!
It's in your freakin' name! Live up to it!


I didn't choose to have that in my name, little lady. That's the terrible work of BJ right there. Blame him - spread the blame around. Ah! Don't you love how everything comes back around?

Ugh. You're such a Typhoid Mary.

And your such a Lameoid Mary.

Hah, you walking contradiction, you.

I try.

But I really just can't deal-

Why are you such an ass, Jimmy?

Why are you asking?
Is my asshood offensive?


It's annoying.

So is your face.

Are you, like, 5!?

5 and a half, thank you very much!

Urgh.

I'm surprised Rusty isn't putting her two cents in right now.
Waiting for the time to strike, my love?


Waiting for the time I can shove my foot up your-

BILLIE! I don't even look like Billie! Why think that we are the same person!? It's madness, I tell you! I'm an individual! I am Wilhelm Fink!

Stop! Just, stop - all of you! I have to talk to Adrienne about everything, and I can't get my point across if I can't concentrate worth shit.

I thought you said you didn't want to talk to her?

I don't want to, but I kind of have to.

No you don't. Just ignore the wife.

That doesn't accomplish anything. It just makes everything worse.

That's what he wants, Gloria.

Well, I don't care what he wants.
He's not going to get what he wants.


Now I have 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' stuck in my head.

Way to go. That means it's stuck in my head too.

Attempting to ignore the jumble of voices, I finally stepped out of my car and made my way to my front door. I had been panicking for a few minutes; since I pulled in the driveway to see Adrienne's car there as well. I tried to give myself a pep talk; to encourage and convince myself that I was freaking out over nothing, but that didn't make the frog in my throat disappear.

So, what are you going to do? What are you going to say?

I don't know. I guess I'm just going to wing it.

This isn't an acceptance speech at the shitty VMA's, Billie. You can't wing a fundamental conversation with your wife.

Well, do you have any idea what I should say?

If you don't, Rusty doesn't.
Do we have to go over this every time?


Just open the door and walk through it, Billie. Everything will be fine. She's your wife; she understands. She's gone through this before with you.

She hasn't gone through what happened last night with Joey, though.

Maybe Joey told her about it already.

That might be worse.

Sheesh, BJ, what do you want from everyone? You can't have everything, you selfish bastard. Decisions come with two sides: yes or no. Good or bad. They go together in different variations; sometimes yes is good, and vice versa. If your son told your wife, that's either better or worse than you telling her yourself. Either way, you have to be content with one of them, or your life will just go to shit.

Well, that was unexpected.

You're giving Blow Job useful advice?
You must've drank too many jello shots.


No, that was the most coherent he's ever been.

That actually doesn't really help me at all.
It just makes me feel like crap.

Success!

Ignore them, Billie.
Talk to Adrienne. Just get it all over with.


Instead of dragging this all out further, I took Gloria's advice and entered my home. Everything was quiet and normal. My kids were at school, according to the clock that read a little after noon. Which meant it was one-on-one with Adrienne, which terrified me.

"Adie?" I called to an empty living room. I walked around aimlessly, not sure what to do. I headed up the stairs, the idiotic part of me hoping she was sleeping or something. I was too reluctant to confess everything that I was going even more insane.

I reached the bedroom, and was greeted by my wife. She was folding laundry, and must've not heard me come in.

Because folding laundry is such a noisy activity.

Hush!

"Billie!" she exclaimed. She jumped off the bed and hugged me like Joey and Jakob used to when they were really young, and I came home from a long tour. I hugged her back, missing her touch. I soaked in the aroma of her, and even though the hugged lasted short seconds, every ounce of worry and reluctance disappeared.

Told you so!

"How are you?" she asked. I knew she was really asking, "How bad is it?" but in a nicer, more conventional form.

I looked in her intense, brown eyes, feeling like a waste of existence. I wanted to tell her how great everything was; make up some bullshit lie, but I knew that wouldn't work.

"Have you talked to Joey?" I asked, testing the waters.

She nodded, but stopped short. "About what? Did something happen?"

Well, the wife is apparently oblivious.
As always.


And you are apparently running out of insults.
As always.


You're the one mocking; not thinking of an original insult.

And you're the one over-analyzing everything.

Shut up. Please and thank you?

Nope and you're not welcome.

"Yeah," I said painfully. "Yeah, something happened."

She just continued to stand there, staring at me. She went from looking so beautiful and hopeful, to tired, stressed and desperate. She wasn't hopeless, though - just desperate.

I sat her down, knowing what I was going to tell her could possibly knock her off her feet. I contemplated my next words, but nothing sounded right in my head, so I just began with whatever came to mind.

"At the show at Gilman, one of the alters became dominant. I-"

"Gloria or Christian?"

I sighed. "There's more now. There are 6 personalities now."

Adrienne looked like she aged a hundred years within a span of a second. My heart felt eroded as I explained the story behind Whatsername, Jimmy, Fink, and Rev as best as I could.

"So, you became Rev?" she inquired.

I nodded. "And he made me leave Gilman before Joey's set started. He went to a bar and got me loaded. He walked back, drunk as fuck, and basically harassed everyone there. By the time Emily's Army came out, he was being asked to leave. He made a big scene; I'm sure Joey heard me. I was kicked out of there before they even came on stage. I don't know what happened; I don't know if Joey had to walk home, if he knows exactly what happened, if he tried calling.."

Where's Fink?

Who cares!? Shut the fuck up!

Well, what if he's in Strangeland?

He'd only get pushed back into Strangeland if another personality resurrected. At least, that's what happened with you.

But what if there is someone else?

Do you know something I don't know?

I know a lot of things you don't know.

Relevant things. As in, what the fuck is wrong with Billie?

"We're going to have to tell him. And Jakob too."

Duh! Gosh, she's terrible with stating the obvious.

Yay, Rusty realized something.

"Billie?"

"I know," I answered. "I know."

You know nothing.

Shut up! Gosh, where's all this rage coming from?

Well, I am the son of rage and love.

Suburbia is, not you, you dumbfuck.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't of left when I did," Adrienne apologized.

"No, I should've told you how bad it was," I told her.

Yeah, that might have helped. But, you fucked up. Again.
Vodka helps fix fuck-ups, though, didja know?


So that's why you and Jim drink like there's no tomorrow.

Shut your mouth, pretty lady. Or I'll pour some Rev juice in it, if ya know what I mean.

"So, what do you want to do?" Adie asked, voice drenched with worry.

I sighed a little, feeling like the wind got knocked out of me. "Do what that doctor suggested - see a psychotherapist."

"Should we talk to Dr. Gibbs first? Check out all of the other options too?"

"I don't know," I said. "Other options would be different kinds of medications, and I can't go through the worthlessness of a drug like Cynosporian again. I think meeting with a psychotherapist is worth a shot."

Why not? You're worthless. It's a perfect combo!

Sting!

_________________
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Ishaa.




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PostSubject: Re: Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection   Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection - Page 2 Icon_minitime12/5/2009, 12:30 pm

OHH EMM GEE.

I already told you how awesome you were on Mibba but I'm saying it again:
You're awesome. Your work is so fantasticccc. <3

I can't wait for more! :D
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Sarahnade.
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Sarahnade.


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PostSubject: Re: Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection   Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection - Page 2 Icon_minitime12/27/2009, 1:42 pm

^Thank you! <3

Chapter 16 - Waiting

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.

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