Tag Archives: world

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?

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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…

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I don’t have a good title for this

I’m feeling really overwhelmed by all this.  I don’t know what to do next,  but at least that clinician calling me so many times with different options made me feel a bit better… maybe I’m not so worthless afterall. If a perfect stranger cares enough to work so hard to figure out a solution,  there must be some value to me… maybe?

I don’t have my hopes up about the clinic getting back to me any time soon though… just going to have to struggle through this myself for a while and hope I don’t crack along the way…


I really could use someone to talk to… or: connections

there’s so much that goes on in my head that I don’t voice. I need an outlet for it. Even my old T didn’t hear half of what went on. I tried to tell her, but sometimes the words just wouldn’t form. It was a combination of fear, shame, and guilt for indulging the thoughts and “fantasies” that kept me silent. There were many times when I tried to talk, but literally couldn’t… the air was stuck in my throat and words refused to form. My mouth would open, and shut, but nothing would come out, not even a wisp of breath. I can feel that coming on… this time brought on by fear of someone over-reacting. The words don’t even form in my brain; they just fizzle at the synapses before a full thought can be formed to explain the pictures and feelings in my head. I don’t know why I have such a hard time talking… but then again, maybe I do. I’m not sure where it started, when I lost my voice (in the feminist, allegorical use of the term), but it’s been gone a long time. Once in a while I find what it is that I want to say, and once in a while I can make myself heard, but for the most part, I play alone in the scenes in my head. Samantha Jane used to be there… She used to keep me company, but she’s run off now, and I’m left to my own devices. She was a good little stand-in. She always listened, and I could always protect her (I think… at least… that’s my memory of my inner child… it’s the only memory of her I choose to acknowledge at this time). What happened to her? I’m not quite sure. She never looked the same through the years. She was always young, but her face and her hair changed… The one constant in all my years was the woman with the dark, long hair… She always showed up when I needed to be rescued. She always meant that things were coming to a close, and the horrible nightmare would be over. Her face was never really the same, but I always knew she was the same person. Maybe just the same soul… I’ve met her many times in real life… always someone else, but always the same role… the rescuer… she’s always meant an end to whatever the current drama/trauma was… funny how she has always been there since I was a child. Maybe I remember more than I think I do, I just keep it in the back of a dark closet. She was a neighbor, my friend’s mom, my guidance counselor, my teacher, my therapist, a nurse at the hospital, my doctor… That one presence that was in a different person each time, but always the same presence behind her… I miss her in my dreams. She was always infinitely more comforting in my dreams… or maybe that’s just where I choose to remember her that way… She always made sure I was ok… If I try to put a real face to her, I lose it, but I know her when I meet her… Just like I know Samantha Jane is not anywhere near me lately… she skipped town. I miss her, but I can’t feel her. I feel the lady with the dark hair though. Maybe she will visit me tonight in my sleep… I really could use her presence with me right now…

Does anyone know what happens to us when we die? I’m a firm believer in connecting once again with all we have lost… connecting to the world again in a deeper way. I remember that connection from when I was a child. I could close my eyes and feel the earth breathing… I could see the colors floating and the energy flowing… I would hear horses thundering by the house, and my parents would swear it was the highway… but I believed with all my heart that it was the horses that traveled that land before… A large white stallion that would wait under the window, making noise and breathing heavily after his run… Later that week I found a horse shoe in our yard… It was a neighborhood established for a while, with no livestock anywhere near… He was another comforting presence…

Earlier this week, I was feeling really sad and indulging that sadness when, all of a sudden, the scent of her perfume was in the air… She’s been gone for ages, but she was there at that moment. They are both here… my mom says she smells cigarette smoke in the house… no one smokes, but he used to… Right after she died (3 years after), I moved here and the dog would play fetch with someone, but I was the only one in the house… she would perk up as if being called, and run over to another spot, wag her tail, and lay down as if she was getting a tummy rub… I did not imagine it…


Remembering to breathe

Trying to not let the tension in the air get to me.  It’s difficult.  I forgot how negative of an environment this was… she’s always angry at something,  and the bad energy rubs off on everyone. Just have to remember to breathe.  It’s temporary and it will all be for the better.  There is a huge adjustment.  It doesn’t help that the wife is struggling with this change. Just keep breathing…


goodbyes suck.

she was so nice.  by nice I mean kind.  she gave me a belated card.  I will not let that go.  she got teary when we started, when we addressed this being our last session… I bumbled on through topics, avoiding talking about anything meaningful for very long…  I touched lightly on the fears that have pushed back into my head.  I flitted around the stress of not having the money to move.  I did not voice the memories that have floated up.  I did not acknowledge the thoughts that skimmed across the surface of my mind.  I refused to go too deep into those waters because I knew I only had an hour left in person with her for quite some time.  I wanted to say all this, but it got tangled on my tongue and never made it to my lips.

she refuted the irrational fears I managed to speak.  she reassured me that I will not be forgotten.  she offered a spot to come back to… then she asked a difficult question: what will you do there without therapy?  my brain drew a blank.  I smiled coyly and answered: breathe… then I giggled nervously.  she offered that I could call her if I needed.  I joked that I would be calling her every hour if I did decide to call my dad to help us get down there…  she smiled, then shook her head: “how is that a good idea?” (referring to calling my dad)  I had no answer other than: “at least we would get down there”  she then reminded me that getting down there would be of no use if I proceeded to fall apart after the drive… ok.  so calling dad and sacrificing my sanity is not a good option.  “it’s an okay last resort, but why would you pick that option if you had others to choose from?”  I don’t really feel like there are other options.

at the end of the session, I awkwardly tried to stand, but my body felt glued to the chair.  I was willing myself to shift my weight to my feet, but I was having a very difficult time convincing my muscles to move.  I was trying hard not to cry.  finally I managed to stand, then came the battle to move my feet to the door… I flailed around mentally, and found some random topics to get myself distracted enough to shuffle along.  just then, she touched my arm and gave me a hug.  it took every fiber of my being to not burst out in tears at that moment.  someone actually cares and I believe she is genuine… and she has no other reason my brain can come up with for “having” to care, she just does.  she can’t retire in the time I am gone… she has to be around to come back to.  she didn’t run when she saw my worst.  she believed (without any real evidence) that there was a real person somewhere deep down inside of that mess that presented at her office.  she believed in me when I didn’t think anyone would, and she trusted me to make my own calls to keep myself safe (despite the fact that I didn’t always manage to do so, she kept giving me the benefit of the doubt that this time, I will reach out).  she didn’t try to convince me that I was one diagnosis or another.  and she was ok with different approaches to therapy and treatment when the traditional therapy wasn’t doing the trick.   please still be here when i get back…

now I have to contact that new therapist.  only I don’t have insurance for a month after getting there.  it’s hard to find someone who will do a sliding scale and bill me for later…

my heart is just a little broken over this “extended vacation”


It’s all coming back to me now…

All the insecurities and fears that i had managed to put in neat little boxes in the back of my mental closet have found their escape routes and made it to the forefront of my brain.  Loss is hard, and there are a ton coming up right now with this move. I woke up with an immense headache.  I’m secretly hoping we win at least some of the money from this powerball drawing, at least enough to get us safely to our destination…

But first there are goodbyes… this one will be really hard… I’m sitting waiting for my therapy appointment. I have a lot of crap around having to change therapists… this time will be no different 😦


Thankful

I am thankful for everyone and everything in my life: my wife, friends, family, critters; that i have a roof over my head and a car to drive; that I can wake up and walk… freely.  That i have the ability to make money and struggle to support myself and my family… the ability to up and move to help make life better. They make it meaningful and loving. They make me see the good in life…

I am also thankful for the things I don’t have in my life: the constant, looming cloud that was present for so many years; the people that have left and taught me many valuable lessons… the screaming taunts of my addictions.  These are things that have been so prominent in the past, but today they are short struggles that can be more easily overcome…

While I still believe that people should have the freedom to end their lives when they wish, I am glad mine did not end when I tried…  life is still difficult at times, but there is so much happiness also…  if you read this love, thank you for sticking by me and not giving up. You are truely a wonderful person, and I’m so glad we met… ♥