Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Addressing the Issue of Frank: Part 1

Frank and I had an extra tough weekend (you can’t even imagine). We had a huge breakthrough, came back on top, and think we are getting to an understanding.

Ultimately the weekend was spent figuring out what to do with Frank, but given that she’s here for so many reasons now, we feel better with the idea of existing together. We stayed up for over 36 hours this weekend. We talked. We screamed. We cried. We paced. We sobbed. We filled sketchpad pages full of doodled conversations with our self (Sharpie conversations, Frank loves Sharpies just as much as I do), and notes.  We came up with some ways to co-exist, and talked some about the struggles I have had with her "day-to-day"; but mostly we decided we are going to keep writing about the stupid shit she has us do, the FUN stuff she get's us to do and how we feel about that, and the struggles; we're just going to be us. Overall though, we decided to keep spend a lot of time together, alone, the two of us. We really enjoy it that way.

Wow, it's like we're putting our self through therapy.  Interesting, seeing as how therapy has generally been a bunch of bull shit for Frank. 

I was asked recently, by a Twitter follower, “who is Frank”. Nobody has ever asked, and even if he didn’t mean it how we interpreted it, we were still intrigued that someone wanted to know who Frank is. 

Our response to him was “I am Frank”…but there is so much more to who we are.

Who am “I”?

Addressing the issue of us will have to take multiple entries; there is too much to say about her; who we are, where she came from, why she is here now, why she’s been here in the past; not to mention how we dealing with (this time around) her, and her insistence on sticking around; I’d like to say that Frank is simply “my dark side”, but she isn’t (she might sound like it when she talks to you though). All I can say is that she is here again, and she has told me in no uncertain terms that she wants to be heard this time.

Frank has been with me nearly my whole life, or most of the portion I can clearly recall, she never had a name before now – I’ve ignored her for short periods of time, gotten her to leave for longer periods (thanks to pharmaceuticals – rattling off a list would be futile - if you want to know which ones, just ask), and thought she might be gone, because it’s been so long since I last saw her.

Over the weekend Frank and I talked about why she’s here; and there are many, many reasons, some I understand, and some I am trying to understand. I've never seen her like this before, but she's been watching for awhile apparently, while she eased out of her slumber; we figure she started waking up about a year ago, around December 2009.

Anyway. We can talk about that another time.

She felt the need to show up at work this week, and stick around for longer periods - not just pop in and out like she used to – she decided that we need to get our act together at work because we need to have that job, it’s our second home, it’s the only place we’ve been able to go together and be happy. It's the only way we can have a functional future. It took me a long to find a suitable home for us.

Frank and I share some personality traits, feelings and thoughts, and though she is much more irritable, and short on patience with people than I am, we tend to be more focused, compared to how we are when she’s not around. When she’s around we get things done, which is why we’re pretty happy that she arrived when she did; there is a lot of stuff to get done in our life.

In other Frank news, The Mother has decided to arrive on Friday; even as I was heartbroken because she had cancelled the trip - I received a call Friday night saying she changed her mind, she just wasn’t going to be able to be here as many days as before. 

I’m pretty excited about it, but Frank is apprehensive. 

The Mother had been put on high alert as to Franks arrival. She’s known Frank as long as Frank has existed (Franks "birth" is debateable, there have been so many…SO MANY…events that could used to pinpoint her required presence - my best guess is she arrived around 1993, but then, it could have been early as 1989).  She talked with Frank (and I) for quite awhile, hours with us, in the past two days. I can’t tell if she’s worried - she's seen it happen before, just not like this.

To our Special Readers (SR): We know there are those of you who have been doing it for awhile, reading what you shouldn’t be reading.  We’re not angry anymore. I know we were coming off as VERY aggressive; but you've made something hard for me to work through, even harder. But we are done fighting with our self, and we’d like to move past that. 

I am not certain who among you are my SR's, other than that you are people I know face-to-face. Keep reading if you must; and If I've given you this address in the past week it's because Frank wants you to understand, she wants to trust you; she's trying to rebuild trust circles. I know it's going to be hard for us. Franks more cautious, she watches and learns.

I know in the wrong hands that this information, my identity, will be harshly scrutinized. We just like it here so much, and we don't want to leave. We can’t stop the unauthorized SR's, I can only pretend you aren't reading - just like I try to pretend the authorized ones aren't - and hope I am not scaring you (tell yourself it's all fake, for your own sanity), because at this point, this is the only outlet for me to stay sane. 

The only outlet. (aside from the poor Fabulous People...we fear for their mental health since they've been dealing with us for weeks now, not to mention their own issues - Frank feels very fortunate to find people she can trust with her life)

TOG was trying to ask for help, but she was no good at asking for help, and she went about it expecting people to read her mind and pick up on her hints. (Always trying to be strong and help others; never thinking about us and our needs). Now that she’s gone, I can guarantee you that we won’t be running around telling the people we know that we are crazy. Nope. We’re not crazy; we are just us. So, thankfully, with the departure of TOG, so goes the woman who couldn’t ask for help. Frank is better at asking for help, but we don’t want help for what TOG wanted it for; now we have this, and us.

Meanwhile, we’re thinking about going out to do something fun, maybe with “real” people, in ”real life”. Now that we've decided we are going to exist harmoniously Frank is getting anxious to get us out of the house. She wants bubble tea. And FaNtAstic adventures, like her most recent one.

~Bitch
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And in the end I will deny anything anybody thinks they know.

They can take me away in a straightjacket first. But please, don’t let them.
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Courage is knowing what not to fear. ~ Plato

Dedication, Frank. 




The Lyrics:

Balancing on 
One wounded wing 
Circling the edge 
Of the neverending 
The best of the vanished marvels have gathered inside your door 

More than begin 
But less than forget 
But spirits born 
From the not happened yet 
Gathering there 
To pay off a debt brought back from the wars 

We thought we lost you 
We thought we lost you 
We thought we lost you 
Welcome back 

Sleeping for years 
Pick through what is left 
Through the pieces that fell and rose from the depth 
From the rainwater well 
Deep as a secret nobody knows 

Less than forget 
But more than begun 
These adventures in solitude never done 
To the names of our rooms (?) 
We send the same blood back from the wars 

We thought we lost you 
We thought we lost you 
We thought we lost you 
It will all come back 

I know you want to 
Run far away from one more 
And that it's comin' at a bad time 
Some cold place 
Heartless ways 
For all we know 

I know you need to 
Breathe through 
Come back 
Come too 
But it's comin' at a bad time 
Tangled day 
For all we know 

I know you want to 
Run far away from one more 
And that's comin' at a bad time 
Some cold race 
Heartless ways 
For all we know 

I know you want to 
Breathe through 
Come back 
Come too 
But it's comin' at a bad time 
Old scarred face 
Survivor's guilt 
For all we know

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