When we got home from the assessment (entry on that coming up), I threw myself into yard work. 45 minutes later, the front yard was mowed and tidy and I was tired enough to take a nap. The urge to plow into a bottle of vodka has abated, somewhat.
It's funny. Yesterday, as Crane was setting my next appointment, he flipped through my chart to the last map of The Crew I did... back in '03 or so. He looked at the map, glanced at me and then nodding toward the chart, he asked "So, how's this?"
I shrugged, never really sure how to answer that question. "Fine. It's all me you know." (even as I said it, it sounded stupid)
"How are they?"
Again, thrown. "Um... It's quiet." From across the room Charlie snorted. I meant to say "No comments from the peanut gallery"... What came out was, "Bite me."
We set the next appointment for early June. The plan is to see him every two months for now.
The session itself was fun. It was more like catching up with an old friend than therapy. Last time I saw him Krys was a newlywed and I had no idea I was soon to hear I was going to be a grandma. Back then we had talked about closing my other diary, taking it offline and my frustration over an utter lack of interest in writing again. We also talked about the Cameron fiasco, from which I and the rest of the family were still healing. I unloaded on him the intense anger I felt for myself for allowing all of the bullshit to go as far as it did.
We also talked about integration... about how for the last year Cameron was with us, what had started as "I'm not her play toy and just because she's your friend doesn't mean any of us have to want to be around her." turned to no longer switching except for extreme situations (which were forced and created by must-be-center-of-attention-drama-whore Cameron and then pointed to as a way to try to manipulate by switching)
When I saw Crane last, I was still pretty full of resentment that instead of gradually and peacefully coming together... that instead of being able to take the time to truly decide if we even wanted total 'oneness', we had to rally the troops and become one just to keep from going insane when she finally took off the gloves and waged open war.
I was still bitter as hell that my family, the ones whose lives had been most touched by The Crew, were denied the opportunity to prepare for and have any kind of reasonable goodbye.
I told him about the night, while washing dishes, when I sought out Stephanie to ask why, for months, there had been no switching... why for those months, the only conversations occurred inside. Her words, which were the last I really heard, stick with me. "You can handle this shit on your own now. You don't need us."
I didn't tell her then, though I wish I had, that I didn't care if I didn't need them. I loved them all and they made me feel complete. I may not have needed them to step in when things got hairy, but I sure as hell liked knowing they were around.
Then standing in Crane's office yesterday... something as simple as saying "Bite me." when the pre-integration I would have said something more diplomatic, was enough to reassure me. Hell yes, they're still there. It's the seperateness... the need for me to 'go inside' while someone else was out... the struggle to maintain co-consciousness... those things are gone. But The Crew... they live on. Seperate enough to see them in my face, my words or my actions... but not enough that we can't all experience life, as it is, together.
Maybe next time I see him, I'll ask him what he means when he asks how they are. Or maybe, when he asks, I'll be able to just tell him.