Tag Archives: mental-health

“Out of the norm”

So much better today! Still got a touch of vertigo, and congested, but the brain zaps and the psychotic thoughts are mostly gone.

It’s nuts what some of these meds can do to people…

How many unsuspecting folks take drugs prescribed to them, hoping to feel better, but end up with something so much worse? How many people find themselves trapped in a vortex of side effects that medical professionals insist are not side effects simply because they are out of the norm?

For all we have advanced in medicine, we still know so little about so much of what goes on in our bodies.

I tend to be weirdly sensitive to meds; some work way better than they should, while others work in very weird ways. My reaction to gabapentin is just one example. I’ll also sleep for 3 days straight with 5mg of haldol; meloxicam works like speed when I first take it; geodon & abilify have a heavy intoxication effect; mood stabilizers, antidepressants, and gabapentin make me hypomanic & psychotic; Novocaine only works at really high levels, but then it takes forever to wear off…

My body works differently than most doctors expect, yet they dismiss my experiences and chalk them up to mental illness because they don’t fit the mold.

I’ve had more than one doctor deny my sore throat, because it didn’t look inflamed when I complained about it. Then they are surprised if I walk in with all the physical symptoms of one, but I don’t feel the pain anymore because the swelling and redness show up after it no longer hurts.

Having “norms” to judge disease by is great, as long as the person in front of you fits the norm.

There are people out there with low baseline blood pressure. Unless they’ve been seen & measured at their normal baseline, no one will figure out that what looks like normal blood pressure for everyone else is really high for them (and that’s only assuming they’ve seen the same provide or group enough to establish a lower baseline, and have it flag for said provider when it goes up).

Anyway, I wandered off on a tangent, sorry.

Keep advocating for yourself out there. Know that not everyone fits the “norms” medicine has established, and sometimes you might need to put your foot down if you are not being heard. I’ve been lucky enough to find providers that are willing to listen, and people willing to help me advocate for myself. Hope you can find that too. You got this!

(Sorry, brain is still a bit zappy & foggy, so this might not make the best of sense)

holy links batman!

Ok, so in a (seemingly futile) effort to find an article on parenting to the emotional needs of your child that my brother wanted to read, I keep stumbling across a bunch of other stuff I want to read. I have no time at the moment to devote to the tons of articles I’m finding, however I do want to save them for later. If I simply bookmark them, I’ll never look at them again…

So, in case anyone else is also interested, here’s a dump of some of the stuff I came across today. I have not read any of them yet, so I dunno how useful or interesting they are, but either the topic or title piqued my interest:

now that I have those written down, time to hurry my butt up and get to work – doggie play day!!!! ūüėÄ I love when my boss puts me into camp.

Oh, also, if anyone finds any articles on parenting to the emotional needs of your kids, could you link me to them? a week later and I still can’t find the article I’m looking for. The wealth of info available on the internet is amazing, but quite overwhelming at times!

frustrations with the system…

It was suggested that I call the state to see if they could help a bit more with my insurance through them. ¬†As it stands, I need to run up monthly medical bills of more than $1068 before my insurance kicks in. ¬†This makes it nearly impossible to go to the doctor for anything unless I head to the emergency room. ¬†Aside of being a huge inconvenience, it ends up costing the state more. ¬†If they simply covered my doctor’s appointments at a PCP, they would not be paying over a grand when I need medical attention. ¬†As it is, I will be heading to the ER after therapy today so I can get this vertigo figured out. ¬†It’s interfering with my ability to drive or concentrate, which is a huge inconvenience. I can’t be upright for more than 15-20 minutes without starting to feel buzzed and dizzy. ¬†It also happens when there’s too much activity around (heavy traffic, a lot of people moving around) ¬†It brings about dissociation by virtue of being so disorienting. ¬†Everything starts to spin and wobble. ¬†I’m relying on others to drive me because I had 2 scary close-calls over the last 2 weeks. ¬†One day I ran a red light and nearly plowed into a bunch of crossing traffic (no idea where my head was, but the light looked green to me). ¬†The other time I backed into bushes without realizing it, as if I had been driving while drunk. ¬†I can’t risk losing my license or worse: hurting someone… I wish I could just go to a doctor’s office, but they would charge too much for me to afford, but not enough to meet my “share of cost”…

I looked into the healthcare marketplace, but everything is prohibitively expensive per month, with outrageous co-pays and deductibles higher than I make in a year. ¬†How is any of this helpful to someone? ¬†I heard there was potentially “free” insurance, but it’s all via tax credit which translates to having to pay up-front, then being given a credit on my taxes. ¬†That would be fine and dandy if I 1) had the money up front to pay all that, and 2) didn’t already have a tax exemption due to being on disability… It was a great theory, but only for the insurance companies who are now guaranteed customers because we get fined if we don’t buy it. ¬† Thanks for looking out for the big guy.

100-theme challenge 2014

I have participated in 100-theme challenges twice now, and I really liked some of what I produced because of them. ¬†This year however, I wanted to put my own spin on things. ¬†I wanted to come up with one myself. ¬†A lot of my list can be interpreted in therapeutic ways (though admittedly, some were inspired by objects/events in the living room at the time of its creation), so I thought I would post it here in case anyone wants to participate. ¬†The rules are simple: interpret the prompt however you see fit. ¬†You can choose to post your work publicly somewhere, or keep it to yourself. ¬†It can be in any form you wish as long as it can be considered creative in some way (drawing, painting, sculpting, writing, music, sounds, pictures, words, collages, performance, anything). ¬†It’s really just supposed to give you topics you may not have thought of on your own to help spark creativity… I have liked the challenges in the past because I did things I never expected to do. ¬†It forced me to take time out for creativity and story-telling. ¬†Since I have been focusing more on my own art therapy of late, I figured this next one could be a way to help me express to De what I need to get out. ¬†I will try to post anything I do of relevance. ¬†I must warn you however, I go in spurts with these things. ¬†Sometimes a whole bunch of work will show up at once, other times, there will be months without anything. ¬†What I’m trying to say is: don’t hold your breathe for me to get the list finished in a timely manner. ¬†I have had 2013’s list for the past year and only this past month have I started it… ¬†I really liked that list though, so I will continue working on that one as well (rather than incorporate stuff from that list into this one).

Without further adieu, here’s my 2014 100-theme challenge:

1) candlelight
2) magnified
3) left standing
4) aftermath
5) breaking ground or ground breaking?
6) reaching out
7) trust
8) broken
9) in the daylight (everything is different)
10) rats in the walls
11) shattered
12) open to interpretation
13) flashbacks
14) heaviness
15) lighter than air
16) combustion
17) lights
18) hope/hopeless
19) under pressure
20) disclosure
21) history
22) presence
23) disappearing from…
24) gone away
25) at the dinner table
26) unbalanced
27) highlights
28) even snakes get the blues
29) enlightenment
30) despair
31) rave with me
32) the itch you can’t scratch
33) slippery slope
34) in my travels
35) it’s the end of the world
36) here there be dragons
37) firefight
38) spirals/spiraling
39) a blank canvas
40) just a thought
41) reflections
42) big trouble
43) happiness
44) wrath
45) associations
46) to the world
47) on the inside
48) truth in advertising
49) memory
50) deception
51) hollow
52) survival
53) turmoil
54) bad choices
55) comfort
56) falling (is like this)
57) open up
58) feety pajamas
59) what would you do?
60) superpowers
61) once upon a time
62) AWOL
63) hunger
64) the light’s gone out
65) running
66) awareness
67) transition
68) humility
69) conscience
70) memorable
71) convergence
72) destroy
73) buildings and bridges
74) the last time
75) vision
76) burning bridges
77) why
78) the first time
79) meditation
80) technology
81) walls
82) containment
83) distraction
84) anxiety
85) heart
86) it hurts like this
87) play it again
88) talk to me
89) open book
90) animals
91) brutality
92) nature
93) family
94) obsession
95) release
96) skeletons
97) peak performance
98) water
99) drowning
100) rescue
In case anyone is interested, the list I’m working on for 2013 is this (I think I have pieces to cover 7 of the topics… I’m seriously slacking!):
1. Break Away 2. Bites the Dust 3. Innocence 4. Drive 5. Sound of Settling 6. Mother Nature 7. No Time 8. Standing Still 9. Two Roads 10. Foreign 11. Breaking the Silence 12. Keeping a Secret 13. Blind Man’s Bluff 14. Waltzing 15. Traps 16. Mischief Managed 17. Lazy Days 18. Hot/Cold 19. Anyone Out There? 20. Seeing Red 21. Through the Fire 22. Between the Raindrops 23. Safety First 24. Puzzle 25. Gateway 26. Fantasia 27. Everyday Magic 28. Irregular Orbit 29. Change in the Weather 30. Nowhere and Nothing 31. Charge 32. Turn the Car Around 33. Colorless 34. Assassin 35. Daughters 36. Instant 37. Don’t Be a Hero 38. Born Without Time 39. Sound Effect 40. Little Bombs 41. Freak 42. American Boys 43. Clue 44. True Believers 45. Portable 46. Caption 47. So Close 48. Under the Red Hood 49. Dragon 50. Making History 51. Rivalry 52. Death 53. Excuses 54. Colors 55. Family 56. Music 57. Off Topic 58. Black and White 59. Memories 60. Song Title 61. Fighting Chance 62. Childhood 63. Shenanigans 64. Elements 65. First Time 66. Lost 67. Strangers 68. Insanity 69. Mirror 70. Silhouette 71. Zodiac 72. Dreams 73. Hope 74. Misunderstanding 75. Relationship 76. Stay Gold 77. Beauty 78. Alice in Wonderland 79. Runaway 80. Our Own World 81. Kiss 82. Little Things 83. Secret Admirer 84. Sweet Dreams 85. Past 86. Present 87. Future 88. Forgotten 89. Human 90. Silence 91. Breathe Again 92. Breaking the Rules 93. Fairy Tale 94. Death 95. Umbrella 96. Pattern 97. Season 98. Clothing 99. Animal 100. The Ones We Left Alive

The Hunger Games trilogy is great, albeit a bit triggering…

L and I went to the movies today. ¬†It ended up being a bit of a bumble. ¬†First, we went to the wrong theater, then got to the right one too late – our original movie was sold out. ¬†We also wanted to see the Hunger Games sequel, Catching Fire, so she got tickets for that. ¬†It started an hour later, and lasted an hour longer, but it was REALLY good! ¬†I was a bit on edge most of the movie, but it was an “ok” on-edge feeling. ¬†The first several scenes involve her going through various PTSD symptoms, and I picked up on the others throughout the movie too. ¬†Either this movie did better presenting the symptoms, or I read a whole bunch more into it than I did the first one. ¬†I could feel her fear, anger, hyper-vigilance… I know it all too well. ¬†But anyway, it was good. ¬†And it leaves you hanging. ¬†Fuckers.

Most of the way through the movie, I remembered that mom had expected us home around 4pm… oops! ¬†It was now 5:30 and the movie still had 30 minutes. ¬†I knew she wouldn’t check her texts, but I shot her one anyway. ¬†I called her as soon as we got outside, and apologized for not showing on time. ¬†Normally, this isn’t a big deal, but being Christmas and all, she was a bit miffed. ¬†We got home in time to watch her down more wine and finish the last bites of her chicken. ¬†We will have to atone for this with a gift of more alcohol sometime in the near future. ¬†We really didn’t mean to get to off-track, but we rarely do. ¬†After apologizing and chatting for a while, the tension eased and we enjoyed our dinner. ¬†L even tried to translate some words into Hungarian through the internet, and we found the weirdest translation for cheesecake yet: “pictures of naked women’s legs to look at”… we laughed at that for a good 20 minutes. ¬†I think either slang has gotten really wacky, or someone is trying to screw up poor, unsuspecting English speakers when they try to translate stuff to a language they don’t know…

Anyway, I’m again renewed in my desire to read The Hunger Games books, but I have to find them in hard-copy ( there’s just something “not right” about reading books on a tablet… I guess I’m old-fashioned that way. ¬†I really like the feel and smell of a book, and they never run out of charge just as you get to the good part). ¬†I wish we had paid better attention to the books my landlord had ¬†left us before we donated them. ¬†I know we had the whole trilogy, but I managed to keep only the second book… then that was donated when we moved out of the place. ¬†oops! I should have known better, I liked most of the books C had left behind…

coercion as standard “best practice” (vent/rant)

I thought about this all weekend. ¬†I finally worked up the courage/resolve to call the IOP ¬†that had refused to let me back. ¬†In speaking with the case manager (who had never actually met with me in the 2 days I had been there), I was told that any consideration of readmission would depend on my agreement to take psychotropic medications. ¬†She heard/listened to nothing beyond me refusing meds. I tried to explain that I have had really bad experiences on meds, and they tend to de-stabilize me more than I can do on my own. ¬†I tried to tell her that I am better able to control my impulses and urges to harm myself when I am not taking anything. She brought up the meds I was discharged on from my inpatient stay. ¬†I reminded her that I had only been given something for sleep. ¬†I told her the only medication I was willing to take would be something as needed (for sleep or anxiety). ¬†She tried to tell me that antidepressants were not PRN meds, to which I responded that I was not willing to take antidepressants. ¬†She clarified that I was looking only for a program to provide support and not med management, then reiterated that I would not be accepted back to their program if I did not agree to take medications. ¬†She asked if I had kept the med appointment the hospital discharged me with. ¬†I told her again that I was not willing to take medication on a regular basis, so I did not want to waste my time (and a doctor’s) on a useless appointment. ¬†The case manager told me she will call the original program she had mentioned to the hospital social worker to confirm whether or not they accepted my insurance. ¬†She said that she would get back to me by the end of the day.

After I hung up with her, I thought of who I may be able to contact about my change in presentation once off meds. ¬†Clearly, because I have an mh diagnosis and am refusing medications, I must not know what I am talking about and simply be resistant to treatment. ¬†I need a professional with credentials to tell them that I tried way too many meds, and they all just mess with me. ¬†I think I may contact the IOP I attended several times and ask for my records. ¬†I may also contact my old therapist and see if she would be willing to speak with whichever service provider I end up trying to utilize…

When the case manager called back with some referral numbers for me, we again spoke a bit about medication options and the things I had tried. ¬†She spewed one of my most hated lines: “There has to be some combination or med that you have not tried that would work, you just have to find it.” ¬†Why is it so difficult to understand that I am no longer willing to put my life on the line to go through more chemicals that make me worse instead of better?¬† Why is it so difficult to believe that meds do not work for everyone, and sometimes people just need support and talking? ¬†The other numbers she gave me also all have a med requirement… ugh! ¬†Maybe if I just tell them I am willing to sit down with a psychiatrist to talk about options, I will be able to get in somewhere? ¬†The issue then becomes whether or not they discharge me for refusing to take anything. ¬†L had suggested I accept a prescription for something along the lines of citalopram (Celexa) and just never fill the script or take the med. ¬†I don’t want to lie to my providers. ¬†That just seems counter-productive. ¬†I may end up having to do that though. ¬†I really still want the added support of a day program at least through the holidays.

The practice of forcing people into a corner to get them to take medication is very frustrating, and I will argue also very unethical. Why is it so common practice in mental health? ¬†A physician could not coerce me this way if it were for a physical ailment. ¬†I am allowed to search for non-medical alternatives to physical ailments, but it is out of the question for mental illness. ¬†I hate that they are allowed (and encouraged legally) to force unwanted treatment, even to the detriment of the client/patient…


Things came to a head last Wednesday, and I asked to go inpatient. ¬†I got out yesterday evening. ¬†My brain’s a bit numb at the moment.

It was an “interesting” experience. ¬†The doctor became highly irritated when I said I only wanted the physical safety/containment without any meds. ¬†He wasn’t listening to begin with, but then walked out as I was trying to explain to him why I was refusing meds. ¬†Despite going in voluntarily, they set me to involuntary status as soon as I told then I was suicidal. ¬†They changed that status back to voluntary the following day on the unit.

I have to say, as frustrating as the hospitals were up north, they are so much worse down here.  The doctors talk to you in passing.  There is no contact with the social worker outside of the initial bio-psycho-social assessment they rush through in 20 minutes or less.  There is no discussion about after-care that I was involved in (they simply told me what they were setting up, without ever asking me what I may be looking for or explaining their rationale).

Most of the stay was bearable, however I had difficulties with flashbacks one night. ¬†I had already refused my sleep meds (I hated the way they made me feel, and the dose he had me on knocked me out for the whole rest of the next day) when they started. ¬†I had no way to ground myself. ¬†The day room had been closed for the night. ¬†None of the staff wanted to talk to me (I’m sure they figured I was just trying to be difficult). ¬†When I asked the nurse if I could still get the Trazodone, she told me she had already sent it back to the pharmacy and marked it as refused. ¬†She said she “knew” I would change my mind about my refusal but did not want to re-order the med. ¬†I told her I was having unexpected difficulties with flashbacks, and really needed some help to quiet them. ¬†She sent me back to bed dismissively. ¬† I chose to walk the halls, as it was lessening them a bit. ¬†Finally, the tech came out of the nurse’s station to ask what was wrong. ¬†When I told her, she insisted that I needed to pray. ¬†I expressed my difference in opinion and requested that she refrain from talking to me about religion. ¬†She continued to try to convince me that I needed to “turn to god” to get through things, all the while telling me it was my responsibility to have left the abusive relationships in my life… I must have asked her 5 times to stop before I finally walked away. ¬†I returned to my room to sit on the bed (since walking the halls was no longer an option without being preached at). ¬†The nurse arrived a few minutes later to tell me she had re-ordered my sleep med (at least the tech helped me out by talking to her). ¬†The nurse proceeded to ask about the flashbacks, but chastised me for “allowing the assaults to happen”. ¬†She told me I should no longer be effected by any of it, and that 17 years was long enough to “get over it… especially since it was [my] fault.” She also mentioned my lack of faith in her “god” as a reason I was still struggling with all of this. ¬†She told me that, had I gone to the police (and church), I would be better off by now. ¬†I took the meds and returned to bed.

It never ceases to amaze me how bigoted and just plain ignorant some people in the mental health profession can be. ¬†It has taken me years to come to terms with not claiming all of the blame for myself. ¬†I know I should have gotten out of the relationship sooner. ¬†I know I should have told someone. ¬†I know I should have been more forceful in my “no”. ¬†But I wasn’t. ¬†I can’t change that now… ¬†and no amount of religious belief would have changed it, ever.

Needless to say, I’m glad I’m out. ¬†It did what it needed to (get me over the hump of the worst of the suicidal thinking), and now I’m ready to move on. ¬†I was not accepted back into the IOP program, as they deem me too much of a “risk”. ¬†No other local program will accept my type of state insurance, so I will not be doing any type of day program (though the support would be nice). ¬†De was off yesterday, so I am not sure if she will be referring me out or not. ¬†They hooked me up for meds with the one place I refuse to have dealings. ¬†I will not be following through with that appointment. ¬†(I also refuse to take meds that only serve to make me more of a risk to myself). ¬†I’m pretty much back where I started in terms of supports assuming I can still see De for individual. ¬†The mental health care system down here needs some serious over-haul.

Also, I was reminded again of the dismissive attitude of health care workers when you are struggling with mental illness. ¬†My cold returned while on the unit, and it took me being unable to get through the 30 seconds with the doctor without coughing violently to finally get cough medicine. ¬†I asked to get something for an ear-ache and sore throat as well, but my requests were flat-out ignored. ¬†I asked my nurse each shift, I asked the doctor, and I told the techs (hoping ONE of them would at least believe me) to no avail. ¬†They seem to think all symptoms are a result of my diagnosis, and nothing other than that needs to be addressed. ¬†I will end up having to find a walk-in clinic that takes my insurance and hope that they will be able to do something for the ear ache… ¬†I miss my providers up north, at least they listened.

Do antidepressants work? Respond to this important global survey. Let your voices be heard!

So, something to get your voice heard about whether or not you feel your meds are working for you. you can supply contact details or not, up to you. I took the survey and look forward to seeing the compiled results.

Everything Matters

Please respond to the survey in the Guardian. It includes questions about withdrawal. We can let people know how gravely harmful these drugs have been to so many of us. You can answer anonymously or use your name. Either way. You can also be from anywhere in the world. Please take part:


ssri_major_brandsProponents say they save lives and help millions of people. Critics say the science is questionable. What’s unquestionable is that the use of antidepressants is surging around the world. In some countries, prescriptions have more than doubled in a decade. Around one in 10 European adults are estimated to take the pills. In the UK, The Health and Social Care Information Centre found that more than 50 million prescriptions for antidepressants were issued in England alone last year, the highest ever number and a 7.5% rise on the year before.

The Guardian…

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there she is… (the daunting thought of recovery from depression means the depression is still very present)

there’s the analytical side again. the professional, composed, and “knows her shit” side. the side that could sit with clients for hours on end prodding and supporting and fostering growth and promoting the will to live… she’s working from underneath. it’s a very weird feeling. normally, she would take over and I would feel like this side was in the background. now she feels like she’s lifting a drape of my currently-dominant self and sneaking a pen from underneath to let herself be heard. she’s being more subtle this time. i guess she has no need to overtly take charge at this moment, but she’s making her presence felt. good thing?

yesterday, when talking to De, I couldn’t bring forth my training for the life of me. my head was stalled in itself and I felt horribly stupid. I could not come up with one single need a child may ask for. I couldn’t put myself in the place of anyone else to even guess what a client may need when they reach out. I was stuck at whatever age it was that I first learned that any needs outside of life-or-death would not be met by anyone (a very overt and spoken rule growing up, though I have no idea when I first heard it). it was extremely frustrating. I can only imagine what it feels like at the start of Alzheimer’s, because that is the closest thing I can relate it to: I know I should know the answers, and had in the past, but I just could not raise them from the depths for the life of me. I had wondered to myself where the hell my analytical side was at the time, why wasn’t she able to jump in? and I remember being worried that her jumping in might mean that I lose connection to whatever emotional space I had contacted during session… maybe that’s why she’s less obvious. she’s respecting that I need that connection to the emotion, but she also wants me to know she hasn’t gone away too far.

again I’m catching myself referring to my “sides” as individuals. it’s just more comfortable that way. it’s easier to express how mutually exclusive they all feel. they are not alters in that they have their own way of dress or speech and you see a noticeable difference immediately when one or the other comes about, but they all have their individual roles. they only come about one at a time, and I have trouble seeing the info/perspective/emotions of any of the others at any given time. I may intellectually know something happened (have a memory of the concept of being a competent professional, or the memory of the concept of feeling depressed) but they never occur at the same time, and I can never connect to anything other than my current state. I have learned to successfully and completely compartmentalize myself. ¬†it worked really well in the past, but is causing a lot of hardship in the present.

I was reading through some forums last night, and responded to someone’s post. the response was given from the analytical side. it was weird reading it again and again knowing the emotional space I am currently in. ¬†the poster had mentioned feeling like a fraud because s/he was afraid of getting better. ¬†s/he was afraid of having responsibilities increased and expectations raised at the slightest sign of improvement. ¬†i can relate. ¬†I very much have those same fears (in fact, I’m dealing with the ramifications of my own raised expectations and responsibilities at the moment). ¬†the response I typed out validated the poster’s feelings but also said that the fear comes from the depression: while the depression is still present, it is very difficult to think of not feeling too drained by all the demands of daily life. ¬†once the depression lifts however, things become easier. the little things no longer make you feel like you are walking through waist-deep mud for miles on end… (I can’t take credit for that little gem if a theory, I had read it a few months earlier on that same forum but can totally relate). ¬†when I am not as depressed, I can handle the daily chores and the socializing and the (gasp) work demands. ¬†when I’m depressed however, all of that feels unthinkable. getting back to a point where I have to do all that feels unbearable. ¬†that is just the depression talking though. when the exhaustion lifts and the fog lifts, it’s possible to do all that and not be overwhelmed. ¬†
while I was able to say all this on the forums, I’m having trouble seeing the validity of it at the moment. ¬†everything feels overwhelming and difficult. ¬†the thought of having to feed the animals is daunting. ¬†the thought of being social is almost unbearable. ¬†i want to hide. ¬†i want to back out of everything that I am committed to participating in… ¬†yet I was able to pass on that insight last night. ¬†I have re-read that post at least 5 times this morning, and I still read my response as if I had not seen it (and it was written by someone else). ¬†I re-read it to remind myself that there is truth in it… ¬†but I still can’t connect to what I wrote. ¬†the analytical side came out from underneath the drape, wrote that post, and has slinked back off into the shadows to let me figure out how to deal with all of this myself. ¬†she’s made her presence known, but is not taking over (at least not as obviously, or to the exclusion of either the emotional, dark, or child sides of myself). ¬†if she is taking over, she’s doing it slowly and not totally kicking out everyone else. ¬†it’s very weird. I’m used to her taking over quickly and completely. ¬†the others will take over slowly (most of the time, sometimes it’s a split-second event without warning), but she has always been the one to snap into place in an instant…

anyway, I’m rambling… i still desire space and peace, but not in as much of a fog as I was yesterday.

Dilemma decisions

So, in talking to our couple’s therapist (whose main job is working for hospice), I just need to suck it up and call adult protective services on my friend’s mother.¬† It is highly unlikely any of the girls will do anything to help their mother (historically the family dynamic) so I would be the one left to care for her and make sure she gets what she needs.¬† Since that is way more than I have energy for, I’ve been told I need to just call APS. I’m totally feeling guilty about it, because I know how shitty it can be to suddenly have a stranger take over, but I also know that she will just get overwhelmed and not be able to care for herself very soon.¬† It’s really sad.¬† I wish I had the energy to help her out in a more personal way…
I was able to avoid J questioning too much about my mood today by taking up the last part of the session with this stuff.¬† Of course, this stuff brought about a whole other layer to the depression… and I was reminded that P’s daughter is probably in as bad a state, and they left her alone. Ugh.¬† I hate having a conscience and a heart… it just hurts.¬† I’m pretty sure I will be making that call tonight. :/

making things meaningful

So, in an attempt to find a way to make money fast, and relieve some of the financial pressures on us, I stumbled upon a blog that is all about doing what you love, and making what you do meaningful (the guy makes money off of this, which is how it connected to making money fast), but his original idea is founded in doing what you love…

That got me thinking… I have this blog that, while mainly started for myself, I would really like it to also help others. I began thinking about my struggles to find treatment that works. What are the barriers to finding other helpful and effectual treatments for trauma? What are the instinctual defenses and coping strategies we turn to when we don’t know what we are supposed to turn to?

It reminded me of the way EMDR came about. The woman who developed it noticed that she would go for a walk thinking about her problem, noticed that she¬†unconsciously¬†looked from side to side during her walk, and noticed that she felt better when she returned from her walk. So I began thinking about what my instincts are when I’m stressed. I thought about what others do. People around me are constantly talking and talking about the things that bother them. I do the same thing, I need to get it out and tell someone (or more than one person) what happened or what is bothering me. I think it is not only the telling, but also the audience. So I have 2 ideas that I need to flesh out.

The first is to actually tell the details of the trauma. This poses some dilemmas. One is that it triggers the hell out of me to think about or tell my trauma, so I will need to have support after the telling (that, or I am rendered speechless by the pure force of the emotion and the events in my head, which makes the telling piece difficult). The other is that it has the potential to overwhelm the other person… Clinicians and treaters are just people. They are people with their own troubles, fears, and vulnerabilities. To come up with a viable treatment model that utilizes this spilling of trauma, I’d have to develop (or utilize) a really good support system for the treaters as well as the clients. I would want someone to be able to talk to whenever I needed them, either in person or over the phone. I would want to provide this, or something similar, for the treaters also. I would want to ensure that talk about suicidal thoughts or self-injury would prompt support, and not automatic hospitalization. This somewhat builds on the DBT concepts of riding the wave of emotions, but this time with support and someone “holding your hand” through it all. ¬†While I see the value in learning to handle your triggers and urges on your own, there is also something very powerful about having someone there with you to witness it. ¬†I have always felt this want for someone to be there through the experience; to help keep me safe when I can’t do it anymore. ¬†I turned that desire into action one day while I was working with a particularly difficult adolescent. ¬†She was bent on destroying the house, and pushing the limits of all the staff present (and her house-mates), ¬†At one point, she managed to turn on the stove and was about to put her hands on it to burn herself. ¬†None of what we were saying was getting through to her, so I stepped in front of the stove and took her hands. ¬†I held them as she tried to push past me (she was about a foot taller and a good 80lbs heavier than me, and I’m not small). ¬†I told her again and again that I would keep her safe and I would keep the house safe. ¬†In that moment that I held her wrists, she looked at me and something clicked. ¬†She moved away from the stove after several minutes (and a few half-assed attempts to pull her hands free of mine) and stopped pushing my buttons for the rest of the day. ¬†It only lasted¬†like¬†that for the rest of the shift, but it made a difference for that time. ¬†I think it’s a very powerful thing to have someone there with you in a non-threatening way to help keep you safe when you cannot do it yourself…

The other idea is a spin-off of having witnesses to the journey. ¬†It also builds on a theory I saw on a PBS special. ¬†That theory advocated the telling and re-telling of the trauma until it lost its impact. ¬†They did not flesh out all the points of the treatment plan, but from what they showed, I think it has some merits. ¬†Anyway, and please tell me if this is a horrible idea, I think it might be helpful to do this in an intensive group setting. ¬†Wait! you may say, this will cause a huge domino effect of triggering… Well, that’s kind of the point. ¬†I noticed in groups, the most benefit I got from many of them was when someone’s experiences triggered something in me and I got a chance to deal with it. ¬†This would be tricky as a group where the point is to tell triggering things, and not just walk on eggshells around topics. ¬†But I think with the proper support available (MANY treaters on hand, at least 1.5+ per person in group, because some people need more than one person to bring them back), this could be a viable path to dealing with all the crap we don’t always think of accessing during treatment. ¬†The groups could start with a topic and go from there. ¬†Forget necessarily censoring the details of the event… While I understand that ambiguity of the event to another may help them access¬†their own demons, I find it tends to limit me in the telling of the event.

There are¬†definitely¬†details to flesh out, and many, many conversations with other professionals to figure out the viability of these theories… But I’m determined to figure out a treatment option that works for me… and hopefully I can come up with something that may help others too…

Bring on the firestorm of criticism for this horrible idea! (It goes against all convention and current thinking and insurance company standards…)

On Suicide

I think this is an interesting and important conversation that needs to happen more often. I think suicide is an elephant in the room that so many are afraid to talk about because of the taboos around it, and the knee-jerk reactions even some providers have to it… I have been privileged enough to have many thought-provoking conversations with my former therapist…


Writing on suicide is dangerous because suicide is deemed unthinkable. To think about it, then, and here syntax betrays what I’m going to claim, is understood as thinking about how to do it or when to do it. To think about it is to contemplate it. Thus, one says that one is not thinking about it, but even raising the prospect elicits concern and paranoia: why would one think about it if one were not thinking about it? I want to stay with this formulation, because I think its unthinkability is a problem, albeit a problem tied to the unthinkability of death, and the political and aesthetic imperative to think through life and to cultivate thriving life.

Because suicide always elicits confession, let me tell someone else’s story.

My cousin killed himself when I was a freshman. I was in Kenya during my first (and only) summer vacation, and, as…

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I ditched the job I accepted earlier in the week… it sounded sketchy. They wanted me to do “creative billing” and tack on extra charges… I just don’t feel comfortable with that. So now I feel lost. I gave up the only work prospect because my gut gave me an uneasy feeling about it. I have learned to go with my gut. The only reason I regret it is that now I have to start over again with the job search. I have no leads, and there are no hopes of any money coming in soon. It’s frustrating. I want to have some resources, but there are none… and its making me feel depressed and hopeless. Everything I used to do to make money is unavailable to me right now. That leads to wanting to hide from the world. Luckily, it hasn’t triggered my self-harm urges. Oh, and I need to cancel next week’s appointment with D because I don’t have the $8 to see him. It just all sucks…

My comfort with him blew my mind

I’ve always had difficulty trusting men in positions of power (real or perceived). I was very,¬† very cautious about the thought of seeing a male clinician,¬† but since the rest of my visits so far have been less-than-productive, I decided to try.¬†
I met with D for the first time today.¬† He is a doctoral student at a local university,¬† and supervised by the psychologist I had hoped to work with.¬† He was calm and affirming and in no way intimidating.¬† I found myself easily taking to him,¬† and spilling more than I intended.¬† I was also more honest than I have been since I got down here.¬† Yes,¬† he used the textbook responses,¬† and I could pinpoint what technique he was using and when… but as much as he seems very inexperienced,¬† he had a very calming presence.¬† Everyone has to start somewhere.¬† I just hope I’m not too much for him and he runs screaming from the building one day…
I see the new EAP lady again tomorrow. It will be my last session. While she was nice,¬† I just didn’t feel like we clicked.¬† Our focus lays in different spots… and today was too late to cancel. Maybe she can get me hooked up with other services to see if we can get out of this hole we are in.

Early morning pre-coffee thoughts

Why is it that certain words trigger such a strong reaction in me?¬† There are sentiments that,¬† when expressed to me, make my blood boil and take away filters for kindness and respect.¬† I’m specifically thinking about all the references to god and how people have a need to tell me that their god will make it all better if I just believed… The truth about that is that, yes,¬† your beliefs can improve or deteriorate a situation. But it doesn’t mean that if I don’t believe in your god,¬† things will stay the same or get worse for me.¬† Faith can be very helpful,¬† or very crippling depending on your beliefs,¬† but it won’t change an abusive situation,¬† or help your finances.¬†

As I was trying to figure out why religion is such a triggering issue for me, I remembered the first time I disclosed my abuse to someone that should have been able to help.¬† I was told to “pray about it and God will make it all better.”¬† That was the sentiment that was supposed to help keep me and the people I cared about safe. There was no follow up requesting details.¬† There was no mention of other possible help on the way.¬† “Just pray about it” and all the physical and emotional anguish will disappear.¬† Bullshit.¬† Things don’t work that way.¬† No amount of prayer healed my aunt. It didn’t stop my dad from being a huge jerk. It didn’t stop his sister from doing all the shit she did.¬† It didn’t stop my then-boyfriend from assaulting me.¬† And it didn’t bring me any solace in the least.¬† So bullshit. Prayer,¬† gods, and religion don’t make anything better.¬† Standing up for yourself does. Reaching out to the right people does.¬† Fighting like hell does.¬† But religion?¬† It brings guilt, resentment, and learned helplessness.¬†
That’s why those stupid posts about bringing god back to schools, and those about trusting god make my blood boil.¬† I had religion in my schools and it didn’t stop, or even lessen, the violence and abuse.¬† It didn’t make kids more tolerant of others (quite the opposite actually).¬† It didn’t prevent students from making bad choices, and it didn’t make the campus safer…¬† Don’t force your belief system on me or anyone.¬† You are free to believe whatever you want,¬† but please stop acting like it’s the only valid belief system in the universe.

i was used to it, and now it’s different

I was all comfortable in my blog page being the way it was when I first came onto wordpress, but now they have gone and changed it… I love blue and all, don’t get me wrong, but the black and grey felt so much more appropriate… and what’s with changing the titles of the functions… now they have me all confused.

On another note, I got a job offer. The pay sucks, but the potential for advancement is great. I also get no benefits (which sucks because I will be losing the ones through my wife as her company continues to drop the ball with her transfer), no paid time off… but I set my own schedule, and work as much or as little as I want (and clients need me) in a given week. It will be tough, as I like having the security of knowing I will at least be getting X number of dollars every paycheck, but again, this is better than nothing, and the learning opportunities are HUGE. I have to formally accept the position on Monday, then meet with my only other co-worker in the state for shadowing, training, and meet-and-greets with my new clients. I will start out with 5, so that guarantees me 5 hours a week… now to get up to the other 35… There will be meetings, calls, and paperwork, so hopefully I can turn that 5 clients into at least 20 hours every week. Here’s to hoping… and hopefully soon I will get a bigger case-load. This will also help me in getting my wife signed up for state services (and possibly myself), as this state does not recognize my marriage, so she’s technically below the poverty level even if I’m working.

Now, I will have to pull it together and function at my best to make this all work, but it sounds cool. Case Managers here have more responsibilities and authority than they did in my last state… That will be cool. While I won’t be doing therapy, I will have more therapeutic contact with my clients and gain the skills I have been dying to get and use since graduating with my BA… And maybe we will be able to save enough money to get our credits out of the endless pit they are in and be able to buy a house… We need our own space.

I can’t win against my defenses

When I have no support,¬† I’m falling apart. When I finally get someone to talk to,¬† I suddenly can’t remember why it was that I needed it so badly just a few days ago.¬†

That’s the story of my defenses.¬† I freak out when I don’t have the support,¬† but can manage to hold it together when I do. Great.¬† When the clinician asked me today what I hoped to get out of our remaining 2 sessions together, I couldn’t think of a single thing other then support… 4 days ago,¬† I couldn’t see past the huge black cloud surrounding me.¬† Today I can’t remember the look of it.¬†

Maybe part of it comes from knowing that I will likely not see her after these 3 sessions.¬† I don’t think I will have insurance again any time soon,¬† and I can’t afford a self-pay if it’s not a sliding scale.

I see the intern guy for the first time next week.¬† I’m hoping I am comfortable enough to work with him.¬† I can afford his fee ($8) once in a while until I get a job… and maybe I can work on my distrust of men with him.¬† I was able to connect with a male clinician at the trauma program.¬† Maybe I can do it again…

Hanging by a thread

The universe is conspiring to screw us… I swear,¬† someone up there hates me.¬† Things go ok for a moment, then everything crashes again.¬† Our phones are shut off again. We had paid enough to just get it back on, and now it was apparently only for 2 weeks.¬† It went offat noon today… all my applications for work have my number on it, but it is useless.¬† And I still can’t find a therapist to see… I had to cancel my Friday appointment because I will not have the copay… I’m so on my last thread… maybe that EAP lady was right… maybe I’m just a lost cause… hoplessly doomed to this shit for the rest of my life.

Simple Steps to Save A Borderline from Suicide

Simple Steps to Save A Borderline from Suicide.

I kinda like this in a dark comedy kind of way… I resent that I was ever diagnosed bpd, and I¬†wholly¬†resent the way I was treated by several clinicians &¬†psychiatrists¬†because of the diagnosis, but she puts it well… and I guess I can see myself in the diagnosis the way she describes it (some of it… the abuse history, the fear of abandonment, the preoccupation with death as a means of escape, the self injury, the lack of identity…)

hiding inside the wall

I’ve retreated into my shell. That experience with the EAP clinician triggered a fear deep inside me that has sent my mind scurrying into the wall. This is quite unusual, but happens from time to time. It happens when I’m terrified for my life, or my sanity. It’s that moment when even my analytical side hides, and I shut down. I neither ask for help, not do I have access to the part of me that is crumbling. I fly below the radar. My heart breaks, and I feel the weight in my chest, but I’m suddenly too terrified to even recognize that. The insanity in me takes a back burner…

It’s helpful in a way. I can function again, though every fiber in my being is shaking and pulsing with fear. It keeps the urges at bay (to an extent… i know they are still there and screaming, but they are isolated inside a sound-insulated room). It enables me to move about my day. My only worry is when it will burst free again. It always comes back louder and stronger after it hides for a while.


4:36pm – I had a horrible experience with the clinician recommended by the EAP.¬† Just about as soon as my butt hit her couch, she strongly insisted I see a psychiatrist for meds. I am strongly opposed to medications for myself.¬† They make me a million times worse than I ever was without them. In the 4 years I was on meds,¬† I was hospitalized upwards of 30 times.¬† Before and after,¬† not once.¬† She didn’t want to hear that I do not want to entertain the idea.¬† I thought at one point she may commit me for my refusal.¬† It was the biggest waste of my time,¬† and caused way more anxiety that I could ever have dreamed of it alleviating… my heart is still pounding nearly 2 hours later… this sucks.

(9:10pm) In talking to my wife about the whole experience, we noted several other ways in which she judged me and lumped me in a “hopeless” category… She suggested I go to a day program to “help [me] deal with everything” (not that she knew what exactly I was dealing with, but she assumed my history of depression, PTSD, SI, etc were all current and looming). ¬†She asked if I was employed, and when I said “not yet, but I’m looking, since we just moved across the country…” her response was: “I figured” ¬†Really?! WTF?! ¬†She continued to insist that I see a psychiatrist for “at least a full and proper diagnosis” Um, Lady… I HAVE one! ¬†I just listed it to you… She then implied that she had no reason to trust me, and stated I had no reason to trust her… Hmm… great! She also wanted copies of my recent hospital records and seemed put-off when I said I did not have them. ¬†I told her I thought my old therapist did, though, and offered to pass on her number so that EAP lady could get in contact with her. ¬†EAP’s response: “I don’t have a release to talk to her”. ¬†I just looked at her with that one. ¬†I was already in flight-or-flight mode (flight being my instinct), and had little energy to retort that I was sitting right there, she could easily get one… She then proceeded to tell me that she is “a straight shooter” and doesn’t “play games”… Like I was looking for someone to play games with?! I took a¬†shaky¬†breath and thanked her for her “honesty”. ¬†I told her I had worked with someone in the past that did not know what they were doing, and it just messed everything up. ¬†I did not want to repeat that… I sat through the rest of her¬†little¬†speeches, and then launched into one of my own. ¬†I told her of my experiences with medications, doctors and hospitals. ¬†I told her about the work I had done with my old therapist, and¬†the¬†work I hoped to continue. ¬†I explained my dissociative symptoms to her (dumbed it down for her, since she wasn’t getting the more clinical terms), and my reasoning for not wanting meds, DBT, or ECT… to which she tried to interject that I should really give it a second thought, but I cut her off. ¬†I told her that the topic of ECT was a hot-button one with me, and came with it’s own mess of trauma. ¬†She seemed to get the hint and moved away from that topic. ¬†She then spent some time trying to convince me that the local university’s psych clinic was wonderful, with students “experienced in dealing with this sort of stuff”. ¬†I cut her off again and told her that I had called the clinic now 8 times in the last 2 months and have yet to receive a return call. ¬†She suggested I just show up… to which I replied: “I’m not interested in begging for what I need when they don’t respond to me over the phone”. ¬†She suggested I “give it a try”

In the end I left her office with no intention of ever talking to her again. ¬†She did the obligatory “call me if you need anything” and actually wanted to hug me as I left… I don’t know her. ¬†I dislike her. ¬†Why the hell does she want to hug me?! ¬†I’m not big on being touched by people I don’t know, let alone don’t like… Don’t hug me. ¬†I’ll take hugs from people I’ve built a relationship with, and only if I feel comfortable with them, but perfect strangers creep me out…

My wife looked at me as I walked out the door and commented “How was it? you’re smiling” to which I was able to respond through¬†clenched¬†teeth: “I just need to make it out of the office…” ¬†I told her all the things this lady said, and she wished she had gone in with me… I kinda wish she had also… Whatever. ¬†I won’t be seeing her ever again that’s for sure.

The whole way home I was worried about the meds issue with the other therapist I’m supposed to meet next week… The anxiety was enough to prompt me to call her. ¬†She was very nice when she called back. ¬†She said that the clinic had no prescribers, but if I was interested, we could always talk about it. ¬†She said she never refused to see a client just because they refused to take medications… ¬†She did mention though that she prefers if her colleagues do the intake session, and it would be good if I could manage to come in earlier in the week to do it… I told her of my money concerns for 2 copays in one week. ¬†She again suggested the non-profit aspect of the office, and I reminded her that I was very uncomfortable seeing a male clinician in the long-term. ¬†She said it was always an option… The more I think about it, the more it may be my only option, as I’m not having any luck with call-backs… and it looks like my wife’s company is totally screwing her over and she will be timed out of their system by the end of the month. That means I lose my insurance, and would have to start all over again looking for a new therapist… This is just way too difficult.


So, I found out today I have insurance for at least a while… I also got a call back from the clinician from the EAP program… but that happened after I made an appointment with the original therapist I had contacted down here… The EAP appointment is free, but the psychologist will cost me the copay… I kinda want to see both to figure out who I click better with, but I also don’t have the $25 for tomorrow’s intake with the psychologist. ¬†And, I don’t know when I would be able to get in with the EAP lady… i don’t know. ¬†I feel like I should at least call the EAP lady back because the¬†likelihood¬†of continuing with her is greater if I lose the insurance… I’m so confused.


I called the EAP lady. ¬†She seems nice, and had time tomorrow, so I decided to make the appointment. ¬†It’s free. ¬†What is there to lose?

I also called the psychologist’s office and told them I did not have the money for tomorrow’s intake. ¬†They kept me on to see her next Friday. ¬†If I don’t call them back before then, she will just do the intake at that time (I hope to have some money to be able to see her by then). ¬†I’ll let both the EAP clinician and the psychologist know I am interviewing both… then I will make a decision after having met both of them. ¬†I’m hoping the psychologist works out, because I know she does EMDR. ¬†I really want to keep up with that. ¬†It helps immensely.

Striking a balance.

The trouble with the new year is that everyone expects things to just change.¬† Life does not know the difference,¬† it’s only marked on a calendar.¬† The days will continue to be the same if you let them;¬† if you don’t work to change them… the same is true for every day.¬† We need to put forth effort to improve or change the way things are.¬† Life is not something that simply happens to you. You make big and little choices daily that help steer it in the direction you go.¬† Even not doing anything is a choice…

So I choose to keep persevering in the direction I want my life to go,  bumps and all.  And maybe I will stop kicking myself for not reaching out. I might actually stop worrying about bothering people on their day off and reach out (or at least try) so I can stop feeling like so much crap.

Wanting to cry

I know it’s a new year, but it’s changed nothing.¬† My hands brush against my thigh, and I crave a blade.¬† I’m ready for this struggle to be over for good. The thoughts need to go away. I need to be finally happy again.


Trying to figure what it is about me that tries to trigger myself, ¬†not so that I will cut, but because I need that feeling to come and go. ¬†I watch movies with a very¬†prominent self-injury or abuse component to them. ¬†I listen to music that¬†¬†is at once triggering and comforting. ¬†I battle with myself about reaching out. ¬†I want to give voice to all the dysfunction in my head, but I’m afraid of the consequences. ¬†I want to let people in, but I’m scared. ¬†So I crave that feeling to have a¬†definite¬†end to it with the change in song or the end of the movie. ¬†It gives the wave of emotion a forced, set path to follow. ¬†It gives me somewhat of a sense of control; and I desperately need that when I start to feel out of control.

I had written earlier that I was kicking myself for not taking the opportunity to talk earlier on today. ¬† I still am. ¬†I toy with calling back and trying to talk to her again. ¬†I toy with calling a hotline and being upfront that I am not suicidal, but I want to self-harm. ¬†I’m scared because I don’t know what that will bring from a stranger in a new state. ¬†I just know I need to reach out some more and I need more support than I can give myself. ¬†I could talk to my wife more, but I don’t want to scare her. ¬†I could talk to my mom, but the same is true… I need someone to talk to that will have a certain level of¬†detachment¬†that can hear me out… I need someone that is strong enough to listen to what I have to say and hear it all, and tell me how fucked-up I am… ¬†And I don’t want to end up in the hospital… But I’m afraid that the knee-jerk reaction would be to send me there. ¬†It’s a holiday, I don’t want to waste their time… ¬†and I really just want someone I can take the risk of talking to without having to see the disgust on their face and the horror in their eyes as I spill the contents of my head… I don’t want them to see me either. ¬†I don’t want them to notice the smile play across my lips at the thought of hurting myself and the thought of the relief it would bring, even if just for a moment, since shame and guilt set in pretty much immediately after I realize that someone may find out… and think of how messed-up I am… ¬†But the thoughts are supremely comforting, even if the act would bring¬†ridiculous¬†consequences that I know I don’t want or need…

I guess I was on the right track…

Managed to talk to my old therapist a bit today.¬† She said that my symptoms fit the diagnosis of Dissociative Disorder NOS.¬† The split is there,¬† but not full-fledged people.¬† And I have a very difficult time connecting the two sides when I’m in either (hence this blog).¬† It’s more pronounced here.¬† It’s a physical feeling when I switch from one to the other.¬† It’s a feeling of falling through ice into freezing water when I get to the “dark” side (strangely comforting, not necessarily a panic, but a relief because I know what comes next); and the feeling of patching a wall when I come back here.¬† It’s relatively sudden (a matter of minutes) and I lose touch with what was before… it’s a weird feeling,¬† and quite strong since I moved back to where I grew up.¬† Someone plugged in the amp… I don’t want it to progress like it has been.¬†¬† That would lead to some scary shit…

I keep trying to reach out,¬† but fear prevents me from opening up too much… I’ve had the chance again today,¬† but when asked that crucial question,¬† I said no.¬† I am not suicidal,¬† but I do sometimes want to hurt myself… not to die,¬† but to let the emotion bleed out with the injury… Only I’m afraid if I said that, they would be obligated to send me to the emergency room… because I said I want to hurt myself… so they are legally obligated to act on that… and it’s nowhere near what I want to do, but they may get sued, so I would be sent to sit in an er waiting room for hours on end just to try to convince them that I will not hurt myself… I’ve played that game before¬†because¬†most places don’t understand self-injury even though it’s become a hot-button topic in the last decade or so. ¬†Legalities and all… and I don’t know the total scope of the laws in this state that could get me committed against my will. ¬†I know it is fairly easy to get at least a 72-hour hold by anyone that suspects you to be even a remote danger to yourself… self-injury would fall under that category to someone who is not familiar with it’s stress-release capabilities… ¬†So I stay quiet… ¬†and I fight it on my own hoping that the dissociation won’t get as bad as it was last year when I “spaced out” for 2 days and ended up being hospitalized…

How to make a difference

Do you ever just sit and wonder…? every choice we make,¬† even the smallest decision can take us miles off our course,¬† or miles down in the direction we want to go.¬† How often do we ponder the meaning of the choices we make? Leaving a moment early or late can make the difference between getting where we are going safely or winding up in a car accident… making a call and asking for a break vs never making it out of the house… it’s the little things that make the biggest difference.¬†¬† The smile to the lost soul, the wave to the lonely old lady… stepping over the bug instead of on it… all those things can save a life…

Healthcare issues

I thought mental health services were crappy in my old state, but they were amazing compared to here. It’s really sad… and I am getting mixed messages from the insurance company. I have received a ton of paperwork from them, and they sent me some confirmations, but I don’t think I actually have any insurance… I was hoping I could log in on the internet and miraculously find my account number so I could find a therapist finally… no such luck. and it’s a holiday, so I have no hope of talking to anyone for another 4 days or so… I wish the big box store hadn’t screwed over my wife… maybe we would be in a better space right now (I know we would be…) so frustrated…


is it so fucking hard to just find someone professional to talk to?! 2 crisis lines that have since been disconnected, 3 places that are not taking new clients or you have to be on state to get in… UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!! ¬†I’m not suicidal. ¬†I don’t feel the need to call a suicide hotline just so I can talk to someone and not fall apart in the next few days. ¬†That’s really all I want, just to talk to someone… why is that too much to ask?

This is that point

Where I need to remember the light side… the chaos is fast and furious in my head. .. not really sure how to slow it down…

I pull out my analytical side to combat the chaos, but it doesn’t work that well. The dissociation of one from the other is huge… the rift can be so severe… my panic mode is kicking in, and the other side of me desperately tries to take the reins to keep me on track… No falling apart. Patchwork going on to cover the cracks and keep things in check for another few hours. It’s amazing what our brains can do to to keep us functioning when we fear the outcome of our current trajectory…

Maybe I am DID in some respects, just not as disconnected with fully formed personalities… maybe I’m just more integrated than the average DID person. The change can come on so fast in the way my brain thinks. The analytical, disconnected side can take over to hold things together until the last possible moment… there definitely are two very distinct sides to me… this one steps in and calms me down when I’m about to break… it’s the more adult, mature side that needs to be proper and collected at all times. The other side feels more frazzled and fragile… and smaller. She feels more vulnerable and young… is that where Samantha Jane went?


It just hit me: I was never young. Let me clarify that… when asked about my inner child, there is no young version of me that I identify with… my inner child was always Samantha Jane (in that he or she was always 6 or younger). When my therapist asked me where the young me was, I mentally freaked and could not identify with a young me. All memories carry with them varying degrees of dissociation, but never have I been able to connect my name with a younger me… the image in my head of a young me is also very different than the actual me… it’s weird and I don’t think I’m explaining it well… I was there watching, but never really fully part of the memories… most of them any way. The person I am today for most of the time is far from that terrified little girl. That part never integrated…