The crutches lasted several weeks. Afterwards, I was able to walk again intermittently. I had a similar experience in high school that had resolved. I hoped that would be the case here.
During our trip in August, we had gone on a several days trip to Orcas Island in the San Juans. I had never been to this island. We had a cabin in the woods. We drove my red 1969 Volkswagen van with my green Coleman canoe tied on top. We had our dogs, Zoa and Sasha. We had everything for a lovely time away from the relentlessness of the constant battle with Leslie over time with Adrian. We also had the crutches.
I was an accomplished crutch user. We went to the beach. We walked in the woods. We went for a canoe ride with the dogs in big water. It seemed strange to me that I could load and unload the canoe but I needed crutches to walk any distance. (I had a lot to learn about inconsistent mobility issues.)
The trip from one beach in the canoe to another across the way was fun. I had a policy. If the dogs didn't sit still in the canoe, they had to swim. I had a fear of capsizing. I wasn't that great a swimmer and didn't want to get wet.
"Zoa sit!" I repeated constantly. She had a habit of moving around. "Sasha, move over here." Sasha was willing to do whatever I wanted but sometimes it required physically positioning him. Shortly after leaving, we pushed the dogs out to swim. They followed us to the new beach. On the way back, they were tired and laid quietly in the canoe without incident.
It was our first real vacation with each other. We dolled up playing with each other including a bit of make-up, hairstyling, and earrings. We took pictures of ourselves. It was a grand time except for the crutches and those little voices in the night.
In fact, it would have been the perfect vacation except we weren’t quite alone.
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My experience with these little voices was similar to what I had with Sasifraz. I was an impotent observer. I could only watch and listen with no ability to influence what was said or done. It was both frightening and a release. Someone else was doing the heavy lifting of my life even if they didn’t have any adult skills. I wouldn’t have chosen it. But since I had no choice, I could appreciate the relief. From time to time, most of us would like to check out for a bit.
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There turned out to be four of those little speakers in the night: Mandy and Jesse James were already mentioned. Sarah and Stephen were the other two.
Sarah was the most frightened, barely speaking, hiding in the closet at night trying to be safe. She wanted Rahne to hold her and protect her quietly whispering, "Who are you? I don't know you.”
Rahne spoke softly back to her, "I'm Rahne. You're safe. You're safe here with me." It was a slow building of trust for Sarah to speak more freely to Rahne. She was always hiding in the dark and very afraid.
Stephen was a bit older than the others, perhaps nine, trying to make sense of what was happening to them and why they were in this small collection. He had a clearer picture of the other three. He also had the best ability to talk. It didn't help him understand any better as Rahne repeatedly tried to explain who she was while asking him what he was experiencing.
Gradually, I named them the Troops as I didn't want to keep calling them the Mark. During the times when these voices spoke, there were fewer visitations from Sasifraz. It was as if having completed one of his primary functions of hiding them and their story from my awareness, he had less of a mandate to present himself to me.
The flavor of his mission to keep hurting me did not diminish for a long time. I continued to hear his voice in my mind but him taking over my body was more infrequent. It was impossible to know what was coming next.