Therapy, mom, and newbies…

My mother called last night to warn me that her brother (in his 70’s) might call and ask for money or a place to stay. Okay, whatever. Then she proceeded to tell me about how it wasn’t fair that way her brother treated his family and that because of his abuse he has alienated his family, children, and grandchildren. “No one should be subject to such abuse.” were her words. I was soooooo tempted to ask why it was okay to let your daughters be sexually abused even after you ask her to stop him, why it’s okay to verbally abuse your daughter and break her down to nothing, why it’s okay to neglect your daughter and withold (or force) food, affection, etc.. I could go on, but there’s no point. I’ve even brought these things up in adulthood and she never answers me, just looks away and changes the subject. She used to call me up about every 6 months and say, “I’m sorry! You were the experiment!.” Seriously. I don’t even want to know what that means so I’ve never asked. I no longer initiate any contact with her or any member of my family of origin. She is still trying to worm her way in, but I’m in control now and I think she is looking for a place to live when my father drops dead. She has asked us many times before and we keep saying no, no, no, but she doesn’t listen. So last night’s phone call was all about how a family should be respected and loved and when the parent is gone they should be taken care of……..blah, blah, blah. There is no point in explaining to her that she has no family right now because of her own actions. One of my favorite quotes is by Frank Herbert, “What do you fear most? By this you are known.”.

Enough about that creature. In therapy yesterday I ended up on the floor, crying a bit and babbling. My therapist asked me to create a safe space for the others to go to so I can relax. When I try to relax it just gets louder inside (this was going on before the DID diagnosis), my heart pounds and I sweat a lot. So, I’m drawing pictures of a safe space inside.

Another one came through last night. She has been trying for a couple of days, but I could feel her sadness and despair and was not ready to deal with it. I think she got through because I felt beaten after therapy, my first sewing class, and my mother’s phone call.

No one else is awake yet, so maybe I’ll work on my safe space picture and talk to the new girl in my journal. I need to make this weekend a positive one for me and my family, inside and out.

I don’t smoke anymore, but I do feel like this right now:

Read Full Post »

Therapy Appointment *trigger*

Today was my weekly appointment. I brought the two journals I write in, my Growing Beyond Survival workbook, and copies of most of the entries I’ve made in this blog.

*possible trigger ahead*

We talked about some of the new memories which surfaced such as the first time my father actually penetrated me when I was 6, how I felt, etc. We talked about a lot of things, memories, coping (or not), self-injury, dissociation, and the last 20 minutes were spent making appointments to see her twice a week for now  (she’s only going to charge me half her fee when my insurance visits are up), contacting my pdoc, and making an appointment as soon as possible with a psychiatrist (she is a psychologist).  We may be changing the Wellbutrin or at least adding a couple of things to it. I dissociated several times during the appointment and she would gently bring me back. I thought for sure I would not remember being in her office, but instead I have no memory of the drive to the school. I “woke up” as I entered the school building. She will not say I’m DID until the psychiatrist sees me and makes the diagnosis, but it looks like that’s what it is. Instead of telling me to work on grounding and controlling my impulses (like she usually recommends) she wants me to focus on taking care of myself – try to stay aware, eat right, get a good night’s sleep, tell my husband what is going on, etc.

So much for life thus far. It will get better and I will be a better, more whole person in the end.

Read Full Post »

DID and Maybe Me *trigger*

Nearly a week and a half ago my therapist brought up the possibility of me having DID. Since then I have thinking about it on and off and when I ask myself, the center part of myself, there is always a resounding “Yes! At last! She figured it out!”. As soon as I feel that I then feel a voice saying “That is such bullshit. Get over yourself. You are so fucked up.”. My therapist and I went over a few things such as:

* memory loss – I have no memory (until the flashbacks started) of my childhood until I am in high school. I know which schools I went to, and I can name some of my classmates, but I don’t know what I did. I also know where I lived, but I have no idea what the day-to-day life was like. (Even as I am writing this there are several voices I feel inside wanting to yell, scream, cry, etc.) I have seen some pictures of myself, but I really don’t know what it felt like to be back then. I never thought this was unusual. I just thought I had a bad memory, or it wasn’t that important. However, I do remember old friend’s phone numbers from 1976.

*not remembering behavior – Often I find finished projects I don’t remember doing (dishes, food, organizing).

*unexplained possessions – This drives my husband crazy. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, and I used to justify it because I usually bought things for the kids or for him.

* fragmented memories – I don’t remember getting married, or the births of my children, graduating from high school, vacations, etc.. I do remember
my four years living in Germany, but I don’t remember my first husband there.

* fluctuation in skills – If I don’t think about it I can play the piano okay and I can read music. I also took six years of German and Latin and sometimes I can speak German fairly fluently, I often dream in German, and I can remember what many Latin words means as far as a base for English words. If I try to do these things purposefully it doesn’t work.

* spontaneous trance – This was one of my favorite things to do. I like tuning everything out so I don’t understand English and I pretend I’m from a different planet or something.

* enthrallment – Another favorite. I love it when I’m totally caught up in a book or movie that I have no idea of the time or my whereabouts.

* age regression – Sometimes I find myself humming or singing in a little girl voice, playing with the girl’s stuffed animals, or coloring in their coloring books. That is very soothing for me.

* negative hallucination – I love making people or things disappear when I’m angry or bored.

* out-of-body experiences – This is just a normal, every day thing for me.

* passive influence – I’m often watching myself do things I don’t remember choosing to do. I thought it was normal.

* hallucinations – I used to pretend it was god or angels talking to me. Later I believed it was the Goddess and it made me feel special.

* referring to yourself as “we”, feeling “others” in your head – I’ve always referred to myself that way even in conversation.

* switching – I’ve always consciously or unconsciously let “whatever” take over for things like sex, public speaking, parent-teacher conferences, doctor appointments, family gatherings, etc.. Sometimes I can almost control it (not really control it, but resign myself to it), other times it just happens and I “wake up” later.

* depressed mood – I’ve been on anti-depressants for nearly twenty years, attempted suicide twice, and been in therapy (on and off) for twenty-four years.

* conversion – My body delights in turning emotional pain into physical pain.

This list of adaptations comes from the book Growing Beyond Survival by Elizabeth G. Vermilyea. My therapist and I are using this book as an adjunct to therapy. It’s my homework when I don’t see her, and then we discuss it in the office.

So, am I DID? My gut says yes. A few voices inside say I’m just looking for an excuse to get some attention because I have no friends and my life sucks. Since my therapist brought DID up I’ve had many new voices inside, each vying for attention. I try to acknowledge them and write down what I experience. Some even have names, but they were names I’ve been using for myself for years. When I would have an angry outburst I didn’t remember I would say the Fiery Redhead must have done it. There is a calm, steady part of me I have always called The Oracle. When I hum, sing, or color I say it’s Little Me coming out to play. I thought this was normal, and I know some of this is normal to a degree, but my therapist believes I have gone far beyond the norm, not in a bad way but in a need-to-survive way.

*possible trigger*

The flashbacks, memories, and some dreams are piecing my life together and it’s really painful. I have burns on my body which are cigarette burns. Doctors used to ask who burned me and I replied “I didn’t know I had cigarette burns. The scars have always been there.”. End of discussion. Now I remember how the burns got there. The one thing I absolutely remembered was my father molesting me at 2:00 in the morning in a motel when I was 28 years old and I looked at the clock and said “No. Not again.”. He stopped and went to sleep. When I told a therapist this, she stood up, closed my file, and said “I suspected as much and I can’t treat you anymore because that is not in my field of expertise.”. She made me leave and set me up with a different therapist. I had been with her for two years and I was devastated. She just abandoned me. I told my current therapist about that (in case she needed her records) and the first thing she said was “I will not abandon you. We will work through this together.”. I just cried and cried. I love my therapist.

So, anyway, that is where I am. I’m still confused, but inside parts of me are very glad to hear about DID, while other parts are very critical and abusive. I don’t know if this is normal or if I’m going crazy. I am still not sure if anything is even real. I feel so detached from the world, and I really don’t know what’s next if anything. I don’t even know what to say to my therapist when I see her. I’m getting that urge to quit therapy again, too. This time I really want to stick with it, though, and figure out what’s going on in me.

Read Full Post »

Day after Day after Day…

I wake up after dreaming of being naked in a filthy bathroom and being fondled. I’m covered in sweat and my husband is making sure I’m okay.

I take a shower with the door locked, get dressed in clothes that completely cover me up.

I help get the kids ready for school and hubby for work.

They are gone, my brain knows this and begins with the sensation that I’m being fondled as I start my housework. I close the blinds because I’m paranoid and take some Xanax.

My head starts to tingle and I try some grounding techniques. A flashback hits and my head is reeling, so I find my safe place and accept the memory. I write it down and hopefully cry for a bit.

I think about what I need to discuss in therapy and try to remember to write it down. I run scenario after scenario in my mind about how the session might go, what she might say or do, etc.

Back to housework and I still feel like I’m being fondled constantly. I ask myself “Who is causing this and what do you need?”, and wait for any response. I talk to the memory, reassure it and the girl who experienced it, and go to write it down.

I talk out loud to myself about what I am doing and what I need to do next. If I have to drive I focus and think about all the different things that could happen and how I would react/respond to them.

Often I lose several hours over the course of the day, so I walk around the house to see what I’ve been up to.

The kids come home and I fight to remain in control, and probably take some more Xanax. I cook and help with homework. Hubby comes home and I fight to listen to him talk about his day and think about whether or not I will share mine. Usually not. I get the kids cleaned up and ready for bed.

Hubby either wants to relax and watch something together or have sex and I need to decide which it will be. If it’s sex I have to pretend I’m interested and enjoying it, but I don’t anymore. If it’s relaxing I have to try and focus so I don’t dissociate. Usually when I stop moving my brain thinks it’s time to dredge through more memories.

If my heart is pounding or my thoughts racing I take medicine to get me to sleep and plug into my MP3 player which has nature sounds to help me sleep.

I don’t know if it’s worth this work and frustration day after day. I never thought it could be so difficult trying to remain aware all day and trying not to dissociate. I don’t even know who I am, what I like, what I’m capable of, or what I want to do with my life.

Rant, rant, rant. Bitch, bitch, bitch.

Read Full Post »

This hurts

Memories hurt. I don’t know if I can do this much longer. My therapist has recommended a mood stabilizer to my pdoc, but I won’t see him for 13 days. It’s painful, and I can’t tell what’s real anymore. Maybe I should stop. I don’t know. My therapy appointment is tomorrow, and I feel that I’m going to explode. If I don’t believe this is real, I could just stop and play along in whatever this is, or just end it. I don’t know. It’s so hard.

Read Full Post »

Going Numb (and then some)

There is a winter storm coming tonight so I did a little shopping, just in case. Many people had the same idea so I was a tad anxious, but no biggie. My plan was to come home, clean, cook, and work on some coping techniques or come up with an action plan, should the abusers try to visit.

Sure enough, there was a message on the machine wanting to “check in”.  Ah-ha! The bastards got my letter, which was written quite respectfully and did not lay blame, responsibility, etc., but made it clear that contact is at the very least quite restricted now (It’s my first step, but it’s a big one for me).

My brain went numb and I’m walking around like MomBot. However, as I’m writing this I feel it’s becoming more unsettled in there. Well, that didn’t take long, huh?

I’m not calling back, but now I get to spend the rest of the day feeling insecure, unsafe, psycho, enduring flashbacks (I can feel them tingling and creeping up on me. Anyone else get that feeling before they start?) and sobbing uncontrollably. That sounds like fun.

I guess my day is shot. I’m going to go and take care of myself. Take care of yourselves as well.

Read Full Post »

Ending Contact With Abusers (Again)

Today I took a step towards ending contact with the abusers. I’ve tried before, but they always weasel their way back into my life somehow. We have very little to do with them as it is anyway.  My husband is helping me a little this time, and I think we will be okay. At the same time I am totally flooded with flashbacks, memories, emotions, etc., that are very difficult to control. I had to pick up my youngest at school (she was sick) and I feel like I don’t have a safe place to go to. I’m nearly consumed by the urges to return to my old comfort compulsions and impulses, and I did give in to one and feel stupid and ashamed.

What I’m doing is a good, healthy thing. I would prefer they and everything they own explode, but this will have to do. It’s just amazingly painful and stressful. I wish it felt more like a relief.

Read Full Post »

To Nurture or Neglect

As I remember what it was like for me growing up, thinking it was normal and not understanding why other families behaved they way they did I always find excuses for my parents. “They worked long hours”, “They weren’t prepared for parenthood when I came along”, “Mom’s parents had divorced in the 40’s when it was practically taboo”, “Dad’s family had eight children, it must have been rough”, etc. Now as I can look back with more clarity and be more detached I know there was no good reason to do what they did. They had a choice when I was born, I feel, to love and nurture me, or to abuse and neglet me for their own selfish purposes. I don’t even want to begin to understand why they would choose the latter and I don’t care at this point.

Today is my mother’s birthday and I sent her a card, but I won’t call. Rather I have been a tad flooded with memories of her actions and words:

“I’m glad I work the graveyard shift so I don’t have to take care of you.”
“You were such a difficult child I never wanted another, but your sister is my miracle baby.”
“Stop faking it. You’re not really hurt.” (as I was bleeding after my sister hit me with a rock in the eye)
“I can’t believe anything you say.”
“I have to get away from you.” (locking me in the apartment when I was 3)
“We will tell you what you are going to with the rest of your life since we’re paying for it.” (changing my college major on me)
“You were the experiment. That’s why you’re so screwed up.” (?)
“You can’t do anything right.”
“You have no friends because you don’t deserve them.”

It’s not just those statements she made over and over. It’s also the forgetting to feed me, leaving me in stores, ignoring me (especially when I got my period and I had to ask a neighbor for a pad. That still really hurts.) It’s the fawning over my sister, resentment of my relationship with her mother, ignoring me when I said I needed help or to talk about something important, changing the subject, not answering my questions, etc. When I left my ex-husband I put all my things into two storage units. One night my parents drove me to the units where there was a pick-up truck and several people around my now open units. The people were taking all of my furniture, curtains, beds, towels, dishes, appliances, etc.. Everything. An old man came over to me and said, “Thank you so much for your generosity! We are so apperciative of what you’ve done.” Then his children also came over and also thanked me. I asked my parents why they were taking all of my things and they said, “They had a house fire two days ago and your father and I decided to give them all of your stuff. You don’t need them and it makes me look good.” Later my mother put the rest of my personal items in garbage bags without my knowledge and threw them out. I lost everything – notes I passed in elementary school to friends, yearbooks, diaries, books, letters from family and friends, clothing, just everything gone.

There are so many other incidents and they have been going through me like waves today. It’s awful.

My children are loved, nurtured, fed, encouraged and validated. Sometimes they even do really well and one time another parent asked me how I managed to have such nice kids. I said, “I just think about what my mother would do and I do exactly the opposite.”. She really didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just laughed, but it’s true. I do think that way.

So, that is how I spent my mother’s birthday. It sucked and I hate even thinking about how much energy I wasted on her. She’s not worth it, and neither is my father. 

Read Full Post »