Missing in Sight

Music Monday - Vol 3 - James Arthur Recovery

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 27 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

James Arthur - Recovery

James Arthur is a British singer who won the British show X Factor and fell from grace due to an in appropriate comment he made for which he later apologized. The song below is more about looking yourself in the mirror: do you like what you see or are you willing to change? Do you give up or do you try to recover?

Recovery is about sitting down with the truth of ourself and facing the truth about what we are. We can never recover by running away or ignoring things from our past that bother us. That's what "Recovery" is all about: sitting down with yourself and coming to terms with what you see.

I take this song personally because when I look at myself and my truth, I don't think I'm always honest with myself, and there are many things in my past that I would like to ignore. However, if I want TRUE recovery, I am going to have to come to terms with my past.

Partial lyrics to his song are listed below:

I don't wanna play this game no more / I don't wanna play it / I don't wanna stay around here no more / I don't wanna stay here / Like rain on a Monday morning / Like pain that keeps on going

In my recovery / I'm a soldier at war / I have broken down walls / I defined / I designed / My recovery

I love the above verse and how passionately he sings them. You can just hear the pain dripping from his voice.

I could find no definitive answer on the second stanza listed regarding what it is he "defined" and "designed." From repeated listening I can only surmise from the intonation of his voice that he is referring to designing his recovery. My interpretion of these lyrics is that he's become a soldier because he's had to fight and build a recovery for himself and repair his reputation. He will not be destroyed again by his old self.

As we watch the video, perhaps again, see if you can determine what he's emoting and how it makes you feel.

It's a simple, stripped, and black and white video that has him in the middle of a circle and the video camera is rotating around him. What does this basic video add to his message and to his recovery? I think the simple, encircling aspect of his video highlights how he keeps going round and round and looking at himself in the camera and we do just the same thing by never stopping or looking at ourselves, but if we want to get better, we will have to stare that mirror in the glass and find out what we're made of.

I think because his video is black and white it is symbolic of the truth we discussed earlier. For the songwriter, it is all or nothing. It's either recovery or relapse.

What about us? What if we drown out all the things that get in the way of our recovery? For me it would be thinspiration pictures or looking online at calories. It might also be the negative dialogue I tell myself about how worthless I am. What about you?

I can relate to the idea of building and defining my recovery. We all have our own path to take and have to build our recovery the best we can. There is no definitive course that cures us, so we have to define our recovery, face the truth in ourselves, and keep moving forward.

Questions I ask myself:

Do I truly want to recover? What does recovery look like? What does recovery mean and not mean? What am I willing to sacrifice to work towards recovery? What will it take to recover? How can I recover?

I'd like to hear from you.

What are your thoughts on this song?
What are your thoughts on recovery, yours or otherwise?

Friday Feelings - SELF-CARE AND THE HOLIDAYS

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 24 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

Maybelline says, "This road trip is making me tired. I'll just steal Becca's pillow."

I’d love to hear from you?

Is self-care difficult for you?

Do you do anything special this time of year to help you cope?

I’m too busy; I don’t want to inconvenience anybody; There just aren’t enough hours in the day; My family will hate me; I don't want to be selfish; Others need me more; My boss expects more of me this time of year.

Have you said those words or others regarding practicing self-care? The list of reasons not to take care of ourselves this holiday season could go on ad infinitum.

While last week we discussed what the basics of self care are, with this holiday season coming up on us, self-care may not seem as much a priority against the plethora of activities surrounding the holidays.

Trying to recover in good times is difficult; add in family, shopping, food , and the overall chaos that ensues and you have all the elements brewing for a possible emotional breakdown. And you can’t steel yourself against or talk yourself out of a breakdown. The only way to avoid an emotional collapse is to make self-care a non-negotiable prerequisite to the eventual stress.

Twitter user Mana @fallingstar_x tweeted recently, (used with her permission)

“I'm doing the best I can. Well, we are. Just have to get through the holidays. I can fall apart in January, not before, please not before. I'm struggling so much.”

In response to a couple of my questions asking why she HAD to hold it together, she tweeted,

“Because my family has enough to worry about and we're quite busy until after Christmas. I don't want to ruin anything, don't want them to hate me.”

Privately, she wrote to me (also used with her permission):

During Christmas I always freak out and relapse. Nothing seems to help during that time and I'm really busy finding something I can do when I get overwhelmed, without offending my family . . . “

I would offer that Mana’s response is not uncommon.

However, I wonder if families would really hate another member if they needed some downtime. I also wonder what we might discover if we stepped back from that thinking and really assessed how our loved ones would react to our taking care of ourselves. What if we asked them?

As for me, when I’m with my family and it gets to be too much, I say eff it and go do my own thing. If I want to be at my optimum, I have to take care of myself, do things for myself, regardless if it inconveniences them or they disapprove. That’s just the way it is.

Think of animals. Of course my dog Maybelline comes to mind. When I rescued Maybelline from the animal shelter, she was neglected, sad, peeking out from downcast eyes, listless, and with no spunk or enjoyment of life. Now that I’ve been taking care of her, such as taking her for walks, feeding her, rubbing her belly, and playing with her, she is thriving and returns the love in kind with kisses and snuggles.

The same is true of you. If you take care of yourself and practice self-care, you will put yourself in a better position to be balanced, happy, and engaging for yourself and for those close to you.

It is true, however, that our family, friends, and employers may not understand the concept of self-care. My thoughts are that their approval is not predicated on whether I take care of myself. Self-care is not selfish or inconsiderate. It's for preservation. I am reminded of the quote below:

I laugh, but it’s true. Self-care not only benefits me, but it improves my relationships with others. I can’t imagine how I would handle the world right now if I didn’t have some “me time.”

So when it comes to your sanity this holiday season, think of the benefits below. Self care:

Prevents burnout
Makes you more energetic because you feel better
Boosts confidence
Maintains a healthy relationship with self and others
Reduces stress
Helps you refocus

Aristotle said we are what we repeatedly do. So if we repeatedly neglect ourselves, we burn out and will probably not be much use to anyone. However, if we repeatedly take care of ourselves, we will be in a position to contribute to the season, to our family and friends, and especially our sanity.

Next week in another addition of Friday Feelings, we’ll explore what to do if we feel we don’t deserve self care.

I’d love to hear from you?

Is self-care difficult for you?

Do you do anything special this time of year to help you cope?

Wednesday Wisdom - DO YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE YOUR STORY? Vol 2

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 22 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

POWER

Do you have power? What is it? How do you get it? What do you do with it?

Power: The ability to do or act in a particular way to direct or influence others’ behaviors.

I know in the mental health community, my experiences with power are not dissimilar to others. When I think of power, I am reminded how little power or control it seemed I’ve had over my life, particularly as a child. Growing up, Birth Mother was more of a “my way or the highway” type mom. To say she was controlling and unyielding in her power over me is a generous understatement. It is only now, decades later, that I am finding the nerve to take back my power and stand up to her. Recently she told me to be quiet, and I responded to her in a respectful tone to never tell me that again, and immediately she told me to be quiet, and the cycle continued until I left. As an adult, my mother has tried to take away my power of voice when it is inconvenient to her. So it is quite understandable that when being abused as a child, I didn’t say no. I didn’t try to stop it. I didn't know I could stop it or use my voice to tell because I was taught I had no power. No power at all.

But over time, little by little, I DECIDED and COMMITTED to the belief that people will no longer take my power away from me. I firmly believe if you want to be powerful, if you want your voice to count, if you want to take recovery by the horns and let it lead you to a better life, you have to decide that you will take back your power. Power is not something that you can acquire by osmosis or wake up one day feeling it in your soul. In order to take back your power, you have to realize to begin with that you are capable of using your power and can take it back by taking small risks, by believing in yourself, and realizing you have power, and so do I.

HOW WILL YOUR STORY END?

So when the quote tells me, “This is NOT how my story will end,” I know I am entitled to create a different ending than what my abusers handed me, and I have within me whatever is needed to implement a different ending to my story.

My abusers created an ending for me, one filled with pain, desperation, helplessness, confusion, dissociation, and hopelessness. I don’t want to live like that anymore. So I’m taking my power back, the power that was stolen from me, and I’m screaming out loud, “This is NOT how my story will end.”

I've realized I have the power to fill my life with people I love and that love me. I have the power to fill my life with happiness and peace. I have the power to shed my shame and create a version of me that is compassionate and understanding, not just with others but also with myself. I have the power to eagerly wait and see what great things will happen next. I have the power to make the changes that seem impossible. Most importantly, I have the ultimate power which is to take back my life and recover.

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With my power back where it belongs, my ending can be anything I want it to be, but it will NOT be, now or ever again, written by my abusers. Their show is over.

I'd love to hear from you.

What is your experience with power?

What would you use your power for?

What is one thing you have the power to take back from your abuser(s)?

Music Monday - All about RECOVERING! and FORGIVENESS? Vol 2

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 20 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

Welcome to another edition of Music Monday! I'll be quiet now because I have a lot to say regarding the following song "Praying" by Kesha.

Side note: I don't know why it turned my background white. All words are my own except when directly quoted.

I'd also love to hear from you.

What songs are you relating to right now?
How do you feel about forgiveness for those whom have hurt you?
What are you struggling with right now?

Kesha - "Praying"

While watching the video and reading the accompanying lyrics, I was all torn up and mentally chaotic. Breaking down and analyzing this song caused me to face my own ideas about recovery and forgiveness.

"Praying" relates to the bitter legal feud Kesha had with her producer “Dr. Luke” and Sony Records over her claim of manipulation, along with mental, physical, emotional, and sexual assualt at the hands of Dr. Luke. For four years, she was unable to produce new music until circumstances changed recently, unconnected with the law suit, but which allowed her to put out music again.

I found myself vacillating over whether I liked or hated this song because I don’t necessarily agree with the totality of the song's premise or message. But I don’t want to only share with you my choices and my beliefs. I trust you, the reader and listener, can do your own thinking and decide on the message and the impact this song has on you. I definitely would love to get your reaction. The video is below, and afterwards I break down the lyrics and offer my analysis.

Partial lyrics to her song are listed below.

Well, you almost had me fooled / Told me that I was nothing without you

I begin with embracing her thoughts about almost being fooled. Don’t we grow up with our abuser(s) lying to us, telling us to keep quiet about what’s happening because no one would believe us anyway? But Kesha doesn’t fall for it when she says, “You almost had me fooled.”

Oh, but after everything you've done / I can thank you for how strong I have become

Here comes my reluctance to accept her lyrics regarding thanking her abuser for how strong she’s become. It’ is MY PERSONAL BELIEF that I don’t owe a thank you to any of my abusers. Fuck them. Plain and simple. I was born strong. THAT is how I’m still alive, not because of anyone else.

'Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell / I had to learn how to fight for myself / And we both know all the truth I could tell / I'll just say this is "I wish you farewell"

Other than her politelness in “I wish you farewell” where I would have said “Get the fuck out of my life”, I can relate to these lyrics on the level where tells him that her hell is his fault, but she is stronger than he is because she learned to fight for herself.

On a personaI note, I believe we can fight for ourselves. I don’t need an apology from an abuser to make me feel better, bring me peace, or provide closure for me. I can fight my own battles, and a contrived apology doesn’t count.

Kesha also writes, “And we both know all the truth I could tell.” Because she says this before she bids him goodbye, it almost seems to me that this is part of her letting it go, forgiving him and wishing him peace. I believe she is saying, "I’m not going to rehash it anymore; I’m done with it. I’m moving on."

This sentiment of Kesha’s possible forgiveness works nicely into the next lines when she writes,”

Cause I can make it on my own / And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known / I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh / When I'm finished, they won't even know your name

Again, I can make it on my with my strength. And I suspect she’s saying regarding bringing thunder and rain that this is a metaphor for her power. Perhaps she is saying she has the power to bring him down.

And after all this empowerment, she fails and writes what is below,

I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin' / I hope your soul is changin', changin' / I hope you find your peace / Falling on your knees, prayin'

Alot of survivors would debate me on the issue of forgiveness, and that is okay. Each to his own. Some feel forgiveness is necessary to move on, some say not so much. I side with the “not so much.” I don’t feel forgiveness is necessary to heal. How can you forgive something or someone that stole your life, your potential.

I can already hear others telling me forgiveness is about you, not about the other person. I can understand this line of thinking and even agree to some extent. However, my convictions on forgiveness are not in line with that. So when Kesha is singing,” I hope your soul is changin’, changin’, / I hope you find your peace”, I just want to scream, “Oh, hell no!” While I wouldn’t want my abusers to hurt others, I want them to stay the same evil people they are; I don't wanting them finding peace because they don't deserve it. I haven't even found peace, why should they. In addition, my feelings are partly due to reactions I have that if they did change and repent, I might feel obligated to forgive them, and that’s not something I want to deal with.

Kesha has said in an open letter on LennyLetter.com that “this song is about coming to feel empathy for someone else even if they hurt you or scare you.” Empathy is the ability to understand and share the feelings of others. No way will I try to understand the evil of an abuser.

On a positive not, Kesha has found inside her the ability to fight her way out of her depression and mental anguish. She has been through something anguishing and come out the other side, and, as she has said, has found her strength.

While I do have issues with some of her message, I also find it inspirational because there are still issues in my life to overcome and when I see others rising above their personal demons, it makes me think that maybe I can too.

I'd also love to hear from you.

What songs are you relating to right now?
How do you feel about forgiveness for those whom have hurt you?
What are you struggling with right now?

THE NOT-SO BIG REVEAL OUT OF HIDING!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 19 Nov 2017 20:04:00 +0000

Always have to start with Maybelline. She's the beginning and the end of my world.

Today sucks. I hate today. I feel depressed because I'm fat. I am having some distressing gastrointestinal issues going on, and they are wreaking havoc on my body and making me feel fat . . . . which in turn makes me depressed. So I've been hiding in my apartment all day.

So I thought of one thing that might make me feel better today which is to stop hiding behind an anonymous screen and reveal my picture and identity.

I’ve been thinking about revealing my identity for a while, but up until 2015 I was studying to be a teacher or working as a teacher, and I didn’t think it would be prudent to expose myself in such a vulnerable way in such an important role. However, I’m not working now, so I can take more risks, and I’m ready to take some now. I would say my life is boring and safe right now in many ways. I’m not taking chances in recovery. I hold up the same walls to Therapist that I usually do. I just play it safe and if you always do the things you’ve always done, you will always get what you’ve always gotten.

And for some reason, I want more now. I’m hungry for some type of change. Something to shake up things. (I don't know who is saying this because it's not coming from me.) I don’t know what change looks like, what it is, or how to get it. Normally I hate change. Still do. And when it comes time to enacting change, I’ll probably avoid it. But for now I’ll take my first step and reveal my identity.

So my name is Becca, and these are some of pictures below.

Hi! I'm Becca and this is my frizzy, curly hair.

Maybelline and I fell asleep together, and Husband was mean enough to take a picture.

Maybelline loves to rest on my chest. I think it's my heartbeat she likes to hear.

Always snuggling. She is my world.

1 of 2 pictures without Maybelline. What can I say?

Well, now you know. My name is Becca and I have curly hair. Not quite an NBC reveal, but it will have to do. I'll change my avatar soon on IG and Twitter. I invite you to look at my Instagram page @Run_Becca_Run if you would like to see more pictures of me, Maybelline, and all things inspiration.

I'd love to hear from you!

How do you feel about revealing or not revealing your identity?

Does anything scare you about it?

FRIDAY FEELINGS - THE BASICS OF SELF CARE - VOL 1

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 17 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

Never really engaging in self-care, I had no idea what to expect, write, or suggest about it. I've been to enough treatment facilities that encouraged self-care, but I always believed I didn't deserve it, so I wouldn't even try.

But learning that self-care lowers stress levels, helps maintain focus on recovery, and helps boost personal happiness, I knew that whether I believed I deserved self-care or not, I was going to "fake it till I make it"; I was going to act like I deserved it. But where to begin?

First, the website Psych Central defines self care as "any activity that we do deliberately in order to take care of our mental, emotional, and physical health."

I appreciate the word used here: deliberately. It implies an action that is not easy and for which planning will be needed. It has to be a calculated, deliberate act of treating ourselves to a special activity in order for self-care to be effective.

For many of us, there is a learning curve because self-care doesn't come naturally. It doesn't feel normal. We are more prone to hurting ourselves than to taking care of ourselves.

After thinking about self-care and doing some research, I came across the above image exploring different types of self-care. Physical, Emotional, Spiritual, Practical, Social, and Financial. The list is brilliant in breaking down the types of self care and provides examples and suggestions on implementing it. For instance, under Social Self-Care, the idea to work on friendships is given. Perhaps you may call up an old friend or acquaintance and prepare some questions you'd like to ask him or her over coffee or tea. If hanging out with someone is too overwhelming, maybe you could send them a text, let them know you are thinking of him or her. You could even investigate some clubs or groups you could join where people have similar interests.

The idea is to just do something. Let's get out of our comfort zones and deliberately plan an activity that might make us feel better.

I am deliberately choosing to use Practical Self-Care by vacuuming my apartment this weekend. I love the feeling I get when my home is clean, so this activity will help me accomplish something that makes me feel good and calms. What about you?

I'd love to hear from you.

Does self-care come easy or hard for you?

What is one deliberate act of self-care you can take to make yourself feel better?

What are some of your ideas on how you take care of yourself?

BROKEN, BEATEN, AND BULLIED

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Nov 2017 12:49:00 +0000

I can count on it. I depend on it. And it never lets me down. The nighttime, from 6-10, is the graveyard where my pretenses go to die.

It’s kind of good in a way . . . to feel this despair, I mean. Before I would try to steel myself against the pain, but now innocent tears plunge down well worn pathways, and my resolve is lost. I become that bullied child again.

I often think I should just get over it. They were just kids, weren’t they? Did they know better? Does it matter?

Ask my insecurities. They’ll tell you. They’ll scream the truth if it were safe.

Ask why we constantly need other’s approval or help in making decisions. Ask why we can never trust ourselves. Ask why our adult-self cannot make friends, trust others, and fears being social. Ask, ask, ask away. The answers agree and never disappoint.

Now, decades later, so many years have ticked off the calendar, but I still see that emotionally beaten and bullied child, 6th grade, head down on desk, tears bursting through failed attempts of constraint, embarrassed they caught her in their grasp again.

Sadly, I remember that girl. She was me, and I was her. And neither of us are okay tonight. She still cries, and I still watch, helplessly. We take turns when it gets to be too much . . . and tonight it’s too much . . . for both of us . . . and I want so badly for someone to listen.

WEDNESDAY WISDOM - VOL 1

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 15 Nov 2017 13:00:00 +0000

Norman Cousins (1912 - 1990)

This is a quote from Norman Cousins (1912 - 1990) who was an American journalist and editor in chief of the Saturday Review for over 35 years. He was known for his quotes on life, death, laughter, and health.

When we think about loss, most times our minds go to people we have lost in death. But Cousins said losing someone wasn’t the greatest loss of all; he posited that the death of what lies inside us while we yet live is the greatest loss.

For me, I thought about things that I have lost. For instance, I feel a piece of me was killed when I went through years of abuse. I lost myself and my potential. I lost my youth, my innocence, my ability to be touched without recoil. I lost my ability to love and be loved, my ability to feel happiness, to feel relaxed and at peace in the moment. I could continue on about my losses, but I’m sure you get the point and could list losses of your own.

Here’s the trick though. I believe it is up to each of us to “resurrect” or reinvent the pieces we have lost, that have died inside us. See, Cousins said to lose those things was the greatest loss, but I believe they don’t have to remain absent. Though I struggle in wanting to get better, I am working on reclaiming what was lost, what was taken from me. Unlike death, happiness, or a form of it, is something I can recover, and even experience now in bits and pieces. Losing what lies inside us is worse than death, but it doesn’t mean we have to lose it forever.

I can make the changes now, no matter how small, how much I don’t want to, or how difficult it is. I can work on restoring my life, and I can get back what was taken from me, what died inside me. It’s simply a question of how much do I want to reclaim what was taken and how willing I am to fight for what belongs to me. Just like essayist Anais Nin said, “The day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” It’s time for us to blossom, to reclaim what others took and what we lost to our abuse.

I would like to know your thoughts.

What does this quote mean to you?

What things have you lost?

How do you think we can reclaim them?

INSPIRATIONAL MUSIC MONDAY!! POST 1

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 13 Nov 2017 14:05:00 +0000

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Maybelline hogging my heated plush throw. Silly girl.

Are you ready for some inspiration?

Welcome to the first Music Monday! As I wrote in my last post found here, I have dedicated Monday to music. For today's Music Monday, I have 3 incredible songs that I hope will inspire you to keep working and fighting in your recovery. I've scoured songs from multi-genres and discovered music that I trust will speak to the feelings and thoughts of men and women dealing with the scourge of mental illness. Some of the songs you may like, some you may dislike. I've chosen up-tempo songs as well as songs with slower beats. I've tried to be as inclusive as possible.

I also encourage you to tweet at @missinginsight, email at missinginsight@gmail.com, or leave a comment on what songs inspire you so that I may include them in my posts.

As you read and listen, please consider if the music speaks to you and how it relates to you.

1) The first song is "Fly" by Hilary Duff. I remember coming home from Therapist one day, hearing this song on the radio, and I was so inspired to really start trying to get better. The lyrics I like best are:

All of your worries, leave them somewhere else/Find a dream you can follow/Reach for something when there's nothing left/And the world's feeling hollow/Open the part of you that wants to hide away/You can shine/ Forget about the reasons why you can't inside/ And start to try/Cause it's your time/Time to fly

This song is such an inspiration to me because of its message of trying when you are struggling, forgetting the reasons that you made you feel hopeless, and always trying, always keep moving forward no matter how hard the struggle is to fight off the demons in our head.

2) The second song that I think represents recovery well is "Alive" by Sia. It's speaks to the writer feeling he or she had been hurt for way too long, and is exacting revenge on those who hurt her by getting better.

The lyrics that really speak to me:

I grew up overnight/I played alone/I survived/I had a one way ticket to where all the demons go/and you're taught to cry in your pillow/but I survived/I'm still breathing/I'm still breathing/I'm alive.

This song is usually on repeat because I feel Sia is singing to me. I've always felt hopeless, all the way back to childhood, and this song is like a slap in the face to my abusers because they tried to break me, but guess what, I'm still here, trying to fight, trying to stay alive.

3) This song is a recent find. It's called "The Silver Lining" by First Aid Kit. I like it because, not only is it uptempo, which I like in inspirational songs, but the lyrics are like poetry set to music.

There are so many relatable lyrics in this song that it is hard to find just a few that I love, but these are ones definitely worth listing.

I don't know if I'm afraid of dying, but I'm scared of living too fast, too slow/Regret, remorse, oh, no, I've got to go/And you've just gotta keep on keeping on/and you've just gotta keep on going straight down the road/I won't take the easy road/the easy road, the easy road/I hear a voice calling out to me/The shackles I've made in an attempt to be free/Be it for reason, be it for love/I won't take the easy road/show me my silver lining

Wow! I love these words along with the beat and their voices. I love how the songwriter is saying she won't have regret or remorse because these things are holding her back and she has to keep on moving ahead or she won't make progress. Also, personally, I've always tried to take the easy road in recovery by avoiding things that I don't want to confront. I often still do. But this song gives me hope that I need to keep on keeping on even if the road to recovery is difficult. And it always is.

She also mentions how in an attempt to be free, she's made her own shackles. I'm not sure what the songwriter is saying, but my best interpretation is that she might have made these shackles to make sure things weren't easy and to insure she isn't taking the easy road. This way she can keep on keeping on.

- - - - - - - - -
Even though I feel hopeless often, these songs are reminders of how we must keep trying, we must find reasons to fight, we must stay in the fight and not waste our energy on those who hurt us, but show them we are better than them. We can rise above.

What are your thoughts on the music?
Do any of the songs speak to you?
What songs help you in recover?

Stay tuned for Wednesday Wisdom!

ARE YOU READY FOR THE BIG CHANGES?!!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 13 Nov 2017 00:16:00 +0000

Maybelline loves this heated plush throw I bought, and she has been hunkered down in my arms to share it with me.

Winds of Change

I’ve decided to make some changes to the blog. First off, every Monday will be considered “Music Monday”, and I will give three songs that I feel have some commentary on recovery. I will draw from all types of music, country, rap, R & B, pop; nothing is off limits. I will also add why I chose that song and why it’s relavant to my recovery at that time. It’s my hope that you will send me your own favorites or music that speaks to you, so we can all share what motivates us to get better.

Secondly, the next blog that will have a specific topic will be on Wednesdays and will be called “Wednesday Wisdom” in where I will find a quote to discuss and relate how it pertains to me or my reaction to it. A lot of my quotes will center around recovery and where I am in relationship to it. You can help also by giving your favorite quote, and I will be happy to work it into a blog.

Lastly, Fridays will be called “Friday Feels” where I will hand out 3-5 self-care tips to help us take care of our selfves, or at least entertain the idea that that is something we need to do. Again, the community can be a tremendous asset in sharing what helps you, and might also be featured in an upcoming blog.

Why?

I’ve been thinking about this blog a lot, and it’s really just become a dumping ground for whatever is going wrong in that moment in my life. You don’t need to read that. You already have crap-storms of your own to deal with. As a result, I wanted to put more of a positive focus on this blog, a place you can come to for answers, commiseration, or relatably. I greatly encourage your participation and interaction because that is truly what makes the community focus itself, reach for higher goals, and get better.

Speaking of getting better

I can not stress how much lately I don’t want to get better. I’ve even mentioned it in a couple of my recent blogs. So this is a big step for my transforming my blog to something more recovery focused. Getting better, or even the appearance of improvement, creates a resurgence of bold insecurity and fear of change. On this blog, I’ll be trying to keep a positive tone, so staying focused on recovery will be my challenge.

I’m only human

As was just mentioned, this blog will now become a blog of positivity and will be recovery-focused instead of a dumping ground for everything going wrong. But that dumping ground is where I’ve always felt safe, so I can tell you now we might have some starts and stops at the beginning. Tonight’s post just about the changes upcoming was made on some heavy medication because I was having a dissociative break. So please bear with me.

Somethings will stay the same. I will always put my dog Maybeline at the beginning of the post since she is the beginning of my world. What will also stay the same is I will never B.S. about how I am. I will not write a positive blog post when in reality I'm self-harming or engaged in other maladaptive behaviors. I will always tell you what's going on. I don't expect perfection from anyone.

Despite my trepidation, I am very much looking forward to exploring music tomorrow, Monday, and how the songs I choose impact my recovery. Remember, you are part of this journey. Share your recovery songs also.

Until then. . .

This quote is for all of us, especially me as I embark on undertaking a more positive, recovery-focused blog.

LIVING A MYSTERY

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 10 Nov 2017 21:48:00 +0000

Maybelline snuggling up with my bear on a road trip.

Worth Wondering.

WHO'S ON FIRST?

So my session with Therapist was interesting yesterday. At one point he mentioned an alter, Tina, but she was already and participating in the session, but he didn't know it. And I'm like, "Dude, don't you know after all these years who you talkin' to?" Made me lose confidence that he really knows who we are and aren't. Does he not know us by now? You can't tell I'm in the room? I HATE being talked about in 3rd person.

JOB TALK

We discussed things like obtaining my Masters degree for writing and also doing some tutoring on the side since I used to be a teacher. I've decided to begin the arduous and probably disappointing process of using services from Vocational Rehabilitation. If tutoring is something I consider pursuing, they would help me out by finding me jobs and places that are looking for tutors.

THE BROKEN BRAIN

He also didn't give much merit to what was said about the mind losing energy with the smallest work and needs a nap frequently to reset. He didn't understand what I meant when I said our brain was broken. It's when much of your coping skills are gone. When you revert back to the person you were before you made progress. A broken brain is where every little task seems overwhelming and you almost feel child-like and can't do anything. A broken brain is like being in a coma, able to hear and feel your surroundings, but unable to communicate anything from the bottom of the coma in which you are encased. My brain broke in 2015 for good. Since then, it's just about piecing moments and thoughts together to make a semblance of a life.

DISCUSSING CHILDHOOD

Therapist also wanted to talk about the happy times of childhood. I shut that shit down fast. I don't want to discuss any aspect of being a child. If there were good times, I don't want to know about it. There is nothing worth remembering, nothing about being a child that I want any knowledge of.

What are your thoughts?

1)How do you hand your therapist talking to and about your parts?

2) Have you ever thought something inside you broke?

3) Do you avoid talking about childhood altogether, or can you appreciate happy times if they existed?

GETTING BETTER: THE CONUDRUM

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 09 Nov 2017 01:43:00 +0000

Maybelline learning to solve a puzzle for her treats.

Pieces Taken from Wednesday’s Journal Entry

Guess I’ve occupied myself well enough today. Most of the depression lingering in my soul is dissipating. Did some cleaning today and cooking. Breaded pork loin chops, sauteed cabbage, and mashed potatoes were made. Wasn’t too bad. Better than the pigs in a blanket I failed at making yesterday.

I’m listening to the same song on repeat called “Good Enough” by Sarah McLachlan, and she has two lines in it that hit me right in the heart. She sings, “And I don’t understand; you deserve so much more than this.” I wish someone would say that to me.

The Birth Parents didn’t really do anything growing up to help with self-esteem or mental health in general. No kind words of appreciation or kudos for doing something really difficult. I guess they were clueless. Neither one of them is very emotional.

So I see Therapist tomorrow. What to talk about? I never know because I don’t want to get better. The thought of "growing up" and going out now, taking on responsibility and being an adult is terrifying, and I don’t want it. I don’t even want to try . . . again.

Something in me likes staying at hiome, walking Maybelline, cooking dinner, grocery shopping. I don’t want to give this up for an uncertain future. And I know I will go back to my maladaptive coping mechanisms.

I’ve continued thinking seriously about a writing career and going back to school for my Masters in Professional Writing. But as I was working on creative writing exercises today, one assignment was to write about a childhood memory. Ummm? No! So a Masters program would likely have that assignment. The creative exercise recommended writing about 1,500 words. I squeaked out 150 words. I decided to write on the time I almost drowned. It’s a work in progress, and I feel at the mercy of my parts.

I haven’t blogged lately. There are no words, no ideas. Nothing I have to say. The depression flattens everything, especially my words. The only part I’ve connected to is Tina and her love (too strong a word) of cooking.

With the depression, I would think Victoria would be around to say something. Actually, I’m reminded she did write on Monday. Oopsie.

Reflecting on why I continue to see Therapist: why do I still have sessions when I don’t want to get better? I would answer that two-fold. 1) what if he’s my last hope? What if I somehow, someway did want to get better? What would I do without him? Seeing him is like insurance just in case I change my mind. 2) Attention. Yes, we are that desperate. We get attention from him. Not as much as we would like. He has no reaction to what we say. He’s greatly in check of his emotions, and I think it’s appropriate most of the time, but not always. Sometimes it’s good to show you can be human.

Goals.

Someone always has to mouth off, and maybe one day I'll love her for it.

WHAT DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY LOOK LIKE

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 06 Nov 2017 17:00:00 +0000

Today I feel so depressed and anxious. I’m having trouble just getting up off the couch. I did water my plant and opened the windows for some fresh air, but I’m still in my pajamas and may stay in them all day. I’ve already gone to McDonalds for a soda in my pajamas and house shoes. What the fuck do I care? I haven’t made my bed or unloaded the dishwasher. It’s Monday, and normally this is the day I clean the apartment. And Maybelline is sad because I haven’t take her for a walk. I hate this day.

I should be ashamed that I haven't picked up the air freshener on the floor in the pic, but I'm not.

I have Therapist today. Whatever. I really don’t want to go.

And I can’t breathe. I can’t cry. I can’t move. I can’t live but I can’t die. But I feel myself fading away.

Just not fast enough.

I should just remind myself that depression will come and go. I've had better days before, and I will have them again. Only the depression shuts that noise down. It blocks the ability to think, to contemplate, to hope.

I'm out.

THE COUP: ILLEGAL SEIZURE OF POWER

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 31 Oct 2017 21:56:00 +0000

Maybelline sound asleep. She loves her crate. Makes her feel safe and secure.

I don’t know if I can write this post. I feel extremely dissociative at this very moment despite taking my medication.

I don’t know why it’s important to write this, but last night’s experience was so bizarre, disruptive, and disturbing that I need to make sense of it.

Last night wreaked havoc on me, and I’m not sure I can adequately give voice to it.

I think something was triggered in our session with Therapist yesterday. We came home, journaled, and then went to our place of worship. I was so emotional through the services that I sat in my seat and cried. When time was up, we had a congregation prayer, and it dawned on me my eyes were open during it. Then I had a flashback to a time when I might have been eight years old, and I refused to close my eyes during prayer and hadn't been for a long while. Closed eyes do not equal safety. You must always keep your eyes open to remain vigilant and safe from people hurting you.

When I remembered this, I began to dissociate and switch. It was like the light switch was being turned off and on, off and on, over and over. The switching was constant, and I had to leave quickly.

Meanwhile, I came home around 9:30 pm and my lower extremities were in such pain, but I had no clue why. I hadn't done anything differently to cause such pain. It baffled me, but I took pain medication that never worked. I doubled the dosage and nothing even came close to alleviating the pain.

Meantime, Husband left to go to bed around this time of 10:00, but I wasn’t sleepy so I stayed in the living room to catch up on social media, pay bills, etc. But I kept noticing I couldn’t remembering what I was supposed to be doing. I would start a task and then forget what I was supposed to do. It felt like I was flitting from one thing to another, but I couldn’t make sense out of anything I was trying to accomplish.

I can not overstate it when I say I couldn’t remember from one moment to the next. It was like being in a dense, thick fog, and I couldn’t process anything. I was confounded, but couldn’t untangle the mental mess.

I decided to take my night meds and go to bed, but the dissociation had other plans for me. I wasn’t tired or sleepy despite taking sleeping pills.

It honestly felt like someone was overriding my medication or it just didn’t affect them. It never felt like true insomnia. This felt totally different, like my members were just wide awake. Almost manic but without the hyperactivity. I was simply awake and not able to think clearly.

Hours later, I took a muscle relaxer and laid in bed feeling very strange and out of sorts

Sleep finally found me but in bits and pieces, tossing and turning.

I’ve had insomnia frequently in life but never before did it feel like the hostile takeover of last night.

Today has been similiar. I’ve been spacey, dissociative, and I have an unrelenting migraine.

I write this experience because I’m trying to make sense of it, and I’m wondering if anyone reading this might have had a similiar experience because this was way out of the spectrum of normal for me.

Safety is as Stupid Does

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 30 Oct 2017 20:57:00 +0000

Maybelline taking a long nap after a walk.

I feel uneasy and unsettled, and a lot has to do with our session with Therapist. The clock revealed only 30 minutes had elapsed, so I must have lost time in there. I remember talking about Husband’s violent behavior and about how others cope who don’t cut, which I find interesting because the cutting isn’t what Therapist should be worried about. Burning and my restrictive thoughts and behaviors should concern him more. But with satisfaction I digress.

Always looking for safe places.

So I’m supposed to blog about what would make me feel safe; what in my present life would make me feel safe.

LOL. I’m more likely to find the 8th World Wonder.

SAFETY: the condition of being protected from or unlikely to cause danger, risk, or injury. Security.

Ironically, what has made me feel the most unsafe is the only thing that can make me feel safe again. Men. I remember how safe Former Psychiatrist made me feel. He spoke softly and tenderly to us. He even allowed me to see how my poetry made him cry.

Some have said they feel safe with Therapist. I can’t say that. I don’t feel he’s warm, soft, or caring, and that’s what we need.

Safety should be a one-way street. There should be other things to make me feel safe. But the truth is that what destroyed me is the only thing that can resurrect me.

But in a perfect world, what would keep me safe?

I can’t answer that. Nothing will or would. I’m constantly aware of the dangers around me. I wonder if you can be both. Can you be aware of danger but be safe at the same time?

I have no concept of safety. I’ve always wanted to feel taken care of and protected. To the core and by the core, we’ve never felt safe.

This subject is bringing out my self-harm inclincations.

I hate this fucking topic of safety. No where in the world is it safe. Danger lies in everyone’s thoughts and behind everyone’s perverted fucking eyes.

I don’t wanna write anymore.

But we didn’t find the answers.

Except for one: it’s not safe even inside.

(There is a child talking to me with a British accent and I hear Victoria trying to calm her)

Why is she upset? Is she upset because there’s no safety anywhere?

*Realization*

Words. Words make Victoria feel safe, especially when she can artfully craft them and express them just how she wants them to be. She’s protected by her words. They are her defenses.

The rest of us don’t have one.

AGE IS NOTHIN' BUT A NUMBER

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Oct 2017 21:46:00 +0000

Mom, I'm out of peanut butter!

I’m not a happy camper. Plenty of reasons why. I burned myself yesterday. It’s only a bummer because it doesn’t hurt today. I know what will.

We sent a scathing email to Therapist last night. I’d be nonplussed if he didn’t tell me not to come back. But he deserved it. He thinks I’m too mature, which means too old, to self-harm. Probs buys into the idea it’s a young person’s disease.

Maybe I am too old to engage in such behaviors, but then why do I want to do it so bad? Why does it feel so good? It might not always feel good. There is shame in it and a wondering of why I’m acting so foolishly. I should and do know better, but it’s better than nothing. Reality is filled with uncertainty, disrepair, and unidentified emotions, and I’d do anything to escape reality. I don’t know how to handle myself in a way that is positive and satisfies my need to have people worry about me. I wish someone worried about me.

I can’t make myself stop. How do you make someone stop feeling ten years old? That’s how old I feel at this moment. How can I be mature when I feel like a child? Who cares anyhow?

Tales from the visits with Mother-In-Law

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 23 Oct 2017 00:12:00 +0000

I went out of town for a few days. Not a vacation. More like looking after recently widowed Mother-In-Law. I love her dearly, but she came back with me for a week, and I'm already nervous. My dissociation has heightened to an unmeasurable degree. I don't play nicely with others, and I don't want to share my apartment with her. I couldn't even begin to write until I heavily medicated myself and put myself into a sleep.

I don't think it's Mother-In-Law. I think my new apartment has been created as a place of comfort, and I don't even like sharing it with Husband. He doesn't appreciate it at all. Which is another story entirely. As soon as I got home and saw him I felt my skin crawl and the chaos in my head began. Someone doesn't like him and steals from me. If I don't resolve life with him I don't think there will be a marriage much longer. He's got less than a year now to show signs he's willing to participate in change with me.

But my happiest times lately are when I get up, have coffee, slowly wake up, work around the apartment, read, take Maybelline for a walk, and continue my day however.

The cutting has subsided, but I crave burning myself. Being watched by Mother-In-Law 24/7 and taking care of her in return has left little opportunity to comfort myself. But I think of burning. I know what I will do. I crave it. I imagine and fantasize about it.

I stuck pretty much to my weight loss plan while I was gone. I weigh in tomorrow, hating what the scale says, hating what it doesn't.

I absolutely don't want to see Therapist for our session tomorrow. I'm afraid it will be a let-down session, that there will be no true communication, partly me to blame. The defenses are already being erected early, anticipating on what he might want to discuss. It will be a waste if he bull shits the first thirty minutes and then tries to raise delicate issues. If Therapist is going to bring up shit, he should bring it up quickly. I don't want to wait there wondering when the other shoe will drop.

All in all, except for dissociative episode tonight, I'd say I'm doing well. It's nice to be able to say that.

ARE YOU SAFE?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Oct 2017 23:40:00 +0000

Trigger Warning

YOU ARE NOT SAFE, NOT EVEN CLOSE.

I am quite uneasy; be still my nerves. An unknown nagging feeling keeps jabbing at the back of my mind, worrying me, filling me with concern and disrupting my thoughts.

I am supposed to write something for Therapist, but I don’t know if I have an accurate topic. Something about finding a reason to give up cutting and restricting.

I suppose this is in response to the fact that I’ve been cutting and joined a weight loss program that I am taking a little too far.

So I guess the question is why keep going back to old patterns that “don’t serve me well.”

My response then questions why should I let go of "old patterns" such as cutting and restriction when they keep me safe. Perhaps I am the fool or just engage in foolish behavior. I own both. But why give any self destructive behavior up when they serve the purpose of protecting us.

I have an alcoholic part, but she doesn’t get out often. But those that cut and restrict are doing so to protect us. If we didn’t hurt ourselves, then wouldn’t others? Maybe we’re just beating other people to the opportunity.

All I know is engaging in behaviors keeps me child-like, needy, requiring others to take care of us, make us safe, safe, safe. It’s selfish, I know. It’s almost manipulative to carry on hurting onself so others will be obligated to handle our life.

For me, there is no safety. I do not feel safe. There have been brief moments of feeling almost, kind of safe with Therapist. It doesn’t get lost on me that my long-term therapeutic relationships have been with men. It’s also not lost on me, though highly ironic, that I was engaged to an abusive man with whom I felt safe.

Maybelline sitting in my lap making it hard to write.

I’ve spent all of my life searching for safe places, from real and perceived monsters. Searching for safe places for my minds. What one part thinks is safe another doesn’t.

So I just cut. It feels good. It’s not a desperate plea for others to notice, although we hope they do. If others learn what we are doing, maybe they will save us from ourselves.

See, we’ve been on a weight-loss program, but we’ve taken it too far. There are ways to get around recording what you’re eating. And in addition, the calorie/point range is too low. How do we know? Dizzy spells. Dizzy when standing. Fatigue. But we take our Adderall, get busy, skip lunch, and enjoy the thrill of winning that day. And when we don’t win, we take a razor to our skin because that somehow makes it okay that we effed up our food that day. And we keep it a secret until we can no longer stand it, and we hope someone will rescue us from ourselves. Make it safe. Make it safe. Make it safe.

And we are carted off to recovery facilities where they check appendages and other self-harm canvases, weigh us, check our vitals, and save us from ourselves. But no more. I will never go to another facility only to get a patch job.

So what now? How does one feel safe? Does one ever feel safe? When is it enough: to be safe from others or safe from ourselves? Are those two even possible?

Secure, safe, protected, shielded, guarded, loved. I don't know those words or connotations.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt loved in my life. Never felt safe. Never felt protected.

And when I hurt myself by cutting or restricting, that’s me saying, “I love you, and I will make sure you are safe and will be protected/looked after.”

And now that I’ve just made myself cry, I’m going to go make myself feel safe, loved, and protected.

Dear Me, I Hate You

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Oct 2017 23:37:00 +0000

These are things difficult to discuss because I'm afraid it will be thought I'm only seeking attention. So when I say I don't want to talk about it, we really might need to discuss it but are afraid of people being overly concerned or or just not caring. There is no easy way, and we don't know how to do "this" because "this" isn't a goddamn thing.

And tired of your pretending to care.

It's all bullshit. I'm against this post. Never works. Never.

Writing, Therapy, and Flashbacks

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 12 Oct 2017 23:47:00 +0000

I don’t feel like conspiring to write brilliantly. I don’t want to care that the creativity has gone out of me like a candle in the wind. I think I shall never write again because we are not in the blackouts of depression, despair, or constant self-damnation to write from the heart and soul again.

There’s a website I’m linking here called Writing Forward that has creative writing prompts, but I haven’t been doing them. Maybe because I’m lazy, maybe because there’s no audience to which to write, maybe the prompts just don’t speak to me like writing about the dark side of life.

But if I can’t write about things other than me and World War III, then what kind of writer am I?

Maybe I’m afraid. Writing never comes easily anymore, and I think I’m afraid of failure. Insert failure/success cliches.

I bought a book for $4.00 full of creative writing exercises that I hope will inspire me. Perhaps this is a ghost I will always be pursuing.

____________________________________________________

So we met with Therapist 2x this week instead of the usual once-a-week session. I think as a group we were in a better mood and there wasn’t such a self-imposed hurry or demand to get everything said and covered we could because we know there’s another session coming soon. So I think we were more relaxed. Today we exchanged first bumps, which is somewhat innocuous on the human “touch” scale.

___________________________________________________

We had a flashback tonight. I’m scared to think about it, but we can not let fear dictate which insiders we help and which ones we don’t . What if the girl in the flashback is fleeing towards us? Are we going to close our minds to her and the help she needs?

I don’t know what you expect me to say.

Nothing really. I just think we need to be open to sights, sounds, and feelings and not abandon insiders. Why so angry?

B L O C K

____________________________________________________

I'm sad. a teardrop falls in my hand.

PAINKILLER

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 08 Oct 2017 23:58:00 +0000

Things are quiet and subdued tonight. Though I feel the need to write, words scurry away. I can’t wrap my mind around what is happening to me.

I listen to music; it is a salve to my soul.

Music speaks to me and comforts me, and I need all the comfort I can obtain now.

I wish I could use my own words to kill my pain, but they do not evolve, so I borrow other’s.

I am empty, tired, drained. I’ve cried so much today that my eyes burn.

I’ll put it on the list of things not to discuss with Therapist.

We went crazy due to this blog post we wrote here to which Therapist has access. Things were said that never should have been and fighting amongst the parts ensued. We will never be able to look Therapist in the eye again. Then we spent Friday frantically e-mailing him, trying to intercept the blog post. His response to the last email brought us some serenity again. It was so simple: He wrote: “It’s not a problem.” That seemed to calm us down.

Tonight I’ve hit a low key. And I just want to walk away, disappear, and never look back. I just need to walk away. Heaven help me walk away.

Am I Reality? and What Not to Disclose to Your Therapist!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 05 Oct 2017 13:30:00 +0000

An amalgam of three days of journal writing

Our purpose here is to figure out two things: 1) how to nurture our angry protector Tina 2) Therapist mentioned that we need acceptance. Figure out what he meant by acceptance. Accept what?

I don’t know what he meant by acceptance. All I want to do is ask him to see us twice a week. Would that be nurturing enough for Tina to see the only person she even semi-trusts for two hours a week? Therapist would say no and charge us with finding other people we can trust, and then that would be the death of that relationship and I guess therapy.

I think Therapist believes the only way to nurture Tina is through relationships, I guess so she can learn his fable that not everybody is scary and out to get us.

We’ve not really talked with anyone, but we’ve hemmed and hawed to a couple of people about our stress, anxiety, and depression. But truly it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. One lady knows scant little and it would be great if she had been in touch with me these past few weeks during the death of Husband’s father and our move.

I want to prove Therapist wrong. What if he’s right? Of course he’s not.

I so wanted to get through life with D.I.D. differently. I wanted inner communication. I wanted to have the gaps filled. I wanted to know myself and feel whole. Therapist says i know or have an idea of what happened to me. I might have an idea, but it is so vague. I really don’t know. I really don’t.

All of this just brings up a panic in me. Is Therapist saying I’m at the end of my therapy journey, that I can get on without therapy? It doesn’t fix the current dissociation.

I guess i have a fear i’m being cast off, abandoned, declared with simplicity that all i need are friends, trustworthy people. And I will be so sad if that is what he is saying because having friends won’t fix these problems.

So, acceptance. Hmmm. Accept what? What work have we done? None. Or we’ve regressed. The insides feel distant, like no one knows each other. I don’t have memories of who they are, what they’ve been through. I feel like I’m starting all over.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I feel dissociative but for no reason at all. It’s not really a big deal. I can just feel them behind my eyes, watching. There are things i don’t want to write here because I’m afraid someone will put it on the blog.

I guess I can almost accept being dissociative and having other inside people a part of me. I don’t like accepting it and there still is resistance. I can’t fight much anymore. I’m tired of fighting. Fighting for the sake of fighting.

I hate that Therapist was told Tina trusted him some, but on some level we all trust him more than anyone, even Husband. I wonder what it’d be like if we said we had love for him. Not a romantic, inappropriate, stalky, perverted kind of love. But a benign, innocuous, healthy! kind of caring for him for being trustworthy to a degree so far. Ugh. Is that wrong?

Which partly explains why the group as a whole can’t shake the idea of seeing him twice a week. Maybe it’s mostly selfish, wanting to feel relatively safe twice a week for an hour each.

But Therapist is so flawed. His optimism angers me. I find his bright-side-of-things view puts a lot of pressure on me to live up to his expectations, but that is impossible and will never happen.

He says I already have an idea of what happened to me already. I know a cast of characters. Uncle. Neighbor. But I honestly don’t know what they did. Maybe they didn’t do anything. I don’t know and wonder how what the inside people claim can be verified and proven. But when I say something, anything, I want to be believed, not second guessed. I bet they would want this too.

But I feel incomplete. I don’t know the people/parts inside. There is no communication, at least of which I’m aware. I used to talk with them, but I stopped because I felt silly. I didn’t think they were really talking back or working towards communicating. Like doing anything like I used to do such as baking chocolate chip cookies together, getting them Build-A-Bears, sticker books, children’s books. I wanted to believe there was a connection, but that’s probably where some of the doubt has come from. It really felt as if I were the only one doing those things, like they weren’t actively helping. I was doing it all alone. Forever alone.

-- -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I’ve been thinking today that I’m losing touch with me, life, and time. I can recite and tell what was done today, like making phone calls, taking my dog Maybelline for a walk, the route we took, and cooking dinner. But none of it feels like me. I know I did those things, but did the real me do it? It doesn’t seem like time loss, although there was a kind of awakening where I realized I had not been in control up to that point. I wonder what has been happening. Like I remember to some degree writing the blog recently, but it wasn’t all me. Where is reality? Do I live in reality? Am I real?

I flip flop back and forth on whether to share these journal entries with Therapist. I don’t know why I do. He acts like he knows everything because he never listens to me. He always acts as if he knows all the answers.

I wasn’t feeling dissociative before or during eating, but I feel it now.

Again, am I real?

I don’t feel well. I’m split in many different ways. My future seems shaky and i worry about everything.

Still thinking of Tina, I think she needs less and less of Husband. I think he’s soaked in his own troubles and can not help any of us to any degree. I think that’s why we get spacy, distant, and unsettled when he’s around. Tina would be just fine living by herself without having to wrestle with Husband’s mood swings. I’m not looking to leave him, but I’m not happy with the way things are. I am trying to be especially patient since the death of his father, but I would assume his father’s death would be a catalyst for change.

So we cooked dinner tonight. I don’t know for sure because I’m not in touch with her enough, but I think she enjoyed it.

I bury my face in my hands. There’s something bugging me, nagging me, and it won’t go away. When I close my eyes, I see Tina standing there, surrounded in darkness. I think I see others, young ones, sliding down hills in burlap bags. Where is this coming from?

Therapist said I have an idea of what happened to me. I’ve gone back and done some reading, and vague generalities are all I find.

Some writing says I was “hurt”. Well, hell, what does that mean? I’m not looking for minute, painful details to be disclosed. I just want to know what “hurt” means. And I want to know how the parts developed, why were they needed, what do they want and need now. What are their fears or happy times?

I want more. I want to know more about the people/parts that total us.

But as I stop and think how good it sounds, I know it will never happen. Fear always wins.

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This may have been written, but it’s not cause for discussion. Don't even think about it. Don’t you dare.

Home of the Not-So Brave

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 02 Oct 2017 00:54:00 +0000

It’s been two weeks since I’ve written. In that time I’ve lost a dear father-in-law to death, moved from a nice home to a cramped, crappy apartment, had an exhausting moving sale where all I did was fight with Birth Mother, and have barely escaped foreclosure on my home. I’ve had enough.

In the meantime I’ve discovered I’ve been doing it all wrong. Dissociation and my approach to it.

If there really is dissociation, and I still deny it, I won’t ever heal. I don’t know how to handle insider people or if I even want to acknowledge them. Just assuming I dissociate, I don’t want a relationship with them or hold that connection with them long enough to hear from them what their hurts are, their boo-boos, their traumas.

Even as I type this, I’m rushing. I want so little to do with this idea of dissociation or blog posting or anything associated with it.

I think at one point I might have wanted that connection, but I’m not doing the work with them I once was.

It is all overwhelming and makes me angry. There’s no comfort for anyone here.

I don’t know how to create inside safety for them or even me. Why create safety? I don’t understand things.

I don’t want to speak with insiders who may or may not be feeling the trauma. No one is hurting, but how would I know when I refuse to spend time with them?

I don’t care if they are good people or bad people, I want stay away.

I’m scared.

One article I read said to remove replications of the outside trauma on the inside bodies. GTFOH. The author said there might be dirt, blood, mud, or messy stuff on the inside bodies. TBH, I know this is true, but I can’t get rid of it.

The effing article also said to give the injured insiders “lots of TLC”. Maybe the reason I am so defiant against the idea of being dissociative is because I am so well disconnected from them.

And I also don’t have the patience for this crap.

I thought I was at one time building a genuine rapport with my inside people and that there was honest communication. I think it’s why I like my last post found here. It felt like honest communication. But it has evaporated. It’s like I woke up and had to start all over again with them so I decided I didn’t want to.

So I hate them and I hate me for hating them.

I’m also scared. I don’t think since the original diagnosis over 20 years ago have I made any progress. Where does that leave me because I don’t want to do the work anyway, so I’ll be stuck here for another twenty years if I make it.

I just want my words back and if one of those bitches took them I’ll be pissed.

What if I don’t have it in me to get better - not better - but have an inclusive, relatively peaceful life?

I keep failing. I don’t know who’s really in inside because I’ve shut them out so long. I know names on a map but not personalities, and I don’t have the fortitude to find out.

I”m out of time, in more ways than one.

Great Unrealistic Expectations

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 14 Sep 2017 23:43:00 +0000

My dog Maybelline is stressing me. She wants to go on a walk, and I just don’t have it in me to get off this couch, which makes me feel like a terrible pet partner.

Taken from today’s journal:

Been a busy day. Service, errands, back pain. The works. I wish I could take a muscle relaxer right now, but I’m supposed to take Mabes for walk, and I can’t do that if I’m asleep.

Times and days are running together. I find no support anywhere. I was doing fine until Husband came home. I was busy packing for our move, and when he came home we started to feel “off”. Most would call that experience dissociation. I don’t know what to call it anymore. There is still the troubled argument of whether we accept the D.I.D. DX. Tina gets very angry if we accept it. But writing and talking just like this, isn’t that a sign of dissociation and of others? This battle gets old. I KNOW what’s wrong. Tina’s doubts have left an imprint on us, but not a lasting imprint.

*****I wonder if we’re making it up as we go *****

If you have D.I.D., but don’t acknowledge it, can you still improve anyway because the prescription of psychotherapy is still the same? I hate whatever I’m going through right now.

So I was fine until Husband came home. Then I felt “off” or dissociative. I lasted as long as I could but broke down and took an anti-anxiety med. It didn’t help much. A muscle relaxer would help, but the timing is no good.

So why do I feel “dissociative” when Husband comes home? Probably because he’s so temperamental and to some degree I (and the littles if there really are any) am afraid of him, his moods, his headaches, his temper, his race -car driving. I never know which Husband I’ll meet next. So we get scared around him.

If D.I.D. has lots of faces, shapes, and norms, why couldn’t mine be one? I question whether I really hear voices of others or is it just my own voice. I guess D.I.D. has been going on so long I have failed to recognize just . . . I don’t know what I was going to say.

What am I? I just want to be sure I’m not lying or making a fool out of myself. Mostly it seems too much to believe. Bad things couldn’t have happened. I had a happy childhood. But, oh, how I hated Birth Parents. And it can’t be denied that at least on a superficial level there was some abuse and neglect. I own that.

Good God. *sigh* I think we want to see Therapist more than once a week. What bullshit. Some feel “close” to him and have a need for his attention, so they want to see him more often. Little children who want to feel special. Is that good or bad? Does that give Therapist too much power and make us even more vulnerable? Better yet, why need more attention now? Has their source of attention dried? Are they not receiving attention inside? I doubt Tina, in her crisis, is up to showering them with love and attention.

For some reason, this journal entry feels accurate. I think it's because it feels like we're communicating. It feels true to what is going on inside, and that is a cause for mourning: Mourning for the system that doesn’t feel like it used to feel, mourning for Tina who is not the same right now and is in crisis, mourning for those parts who require more attention and special feelings, mourning for those who aren’t getting their needs met by this ever-evolving system.

I can feel Tina seeping her way through this journal entry. I feel her sending her hate and anger to me, but that’s not all she’s sending. I sense from Tina some subtle undertones of helplessness and vulnerability. I sense great fear in her . . . and great sorrow. What a pity. I almost don’t recognize her at all.

Protecting the Protector

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 13 Sep 2017 10:09:00 +0000

I want to write, and I want to call out Sheila to discuss without emotion and bias what is happening regarding Tina, particularly and her denial of D.I.D.

I'll address my surmise of how Tina feels currently. She wants to push the agenda that there is no dissociation because she feels out of the loop. When was the last time she really had to defend and protect us? Okay. Besides the handshake incident. Other than that, not too recently.

I predict her services will be needed again, but she's not used to being in the silent role. She's used to taking action, not sitting back. She feels unnecessary. Everyone here has at least one job, and Tina's job has been to protect the system. On behalf of Tina, there's been very little need from Tina to protect us. She feels useless and unneeded.

Imagine how she might feel. Instead of throwing up defenses to protect the system, in a way, she is the one who needs protection . . . from herself. Without her anger, where and how does she get her power? She doesn't. And she wants in a way to send the whole system on its own by denying us, make us defenseless, so she can feel powerful again. If she denies the existence of others inside, she gets back some portion of power because she can in a sense make them go away.

What Tina needs now, regardless if she believes we have D.I.D., is for us to rally around her, wipe away her tears, and above all let her know she's needed by us.

However, I don't know how to do the latter yet. She's the only one who seems in crises. How do you provoke or bring her out of her defenses? It will be important to tell her how she defends us to some degree every day. Whether it's getting our food right at a restaurant, a price right when shopping, or making sure we have good customer service. She speaks her mind when it comes to getting what we need. Thank her for that.

But there's another side. If she has no one to protect, how can she lash out at Therapist and keep him in his place. And we have to be the ones to let Therapist know what she needs and how she's feeling. She won't speak loudly enough of her needs. We must do that.

Tina believes, and perhaps rightly so, that she has a special relationship with Therapist. I know she want to feel special. We all want to feel that way, and that will be dealt with soon. But for now, we must acknowledge the bond she feels toward Therapist. She spoke up for us in the past. It's our turn to speak up for her now.

We must remember that while Tina is a Protector, even she needs protection from herself.

In regards as to whether we dissociate, more discussion must take place. It's true, the system has shifted, and I don't feel a strong awareness of what we're dealing with here and what the system needs and what the roles are now. I feel the system needs to get to know each other again, if we truly dissociate. I saw someone's handwriting recently belonging to a woman named Molly. Is she new? Are there others that are new? We must be open to al possibilities and communicate more as a whole.