Sub-human

There have been lots ups and downs in my life recently.... what I'm learning is most of it "normal" life stuff, and to some extent I'm just going to have to deal. What I am realizing is that I make things harder on myself. Whether I'm doing it on purpose or not is still debatable... I kind of stumbled onto it and over it in therapy this evening.

I was asking T if normal life for everyone felt like bouncing from one crisis or dramatic situation to another? If I understood her correctly, to an extent, yes.... some of that is just life. What she pointed out is that most people don't walk around all time feeling like they're already overloaded, so for a lot of people, adding one more drama is not fun, but it doesn't make you feel like it might push you over the edge. The only times I feel things are manageable are the brief periods between "life events". The rest of the time I feel like I'm stumbling around trying to keep my balance and maybe even take a few steps back away from the ledge I feel like I'm always trying not to fall over.

This led into a conversation of me feeling the need to always keep my feelings under control. I have a huge fear of overreacting. Then this led into a conversation that basically ended in me admitting that I base how I'm allowed to feel about a certain situation or event based upon those also involved. If my emotions are more intense than someone I deem to be closer to the situation, that is wrong. If someone else is reacting stronger to a situation than me and I am closer to the situation than them, then that is wrong. But not b/c I think I am under reacting. I assume they must be overreacting and it reinforces my resolve to never be like that overreacting person.

We dug a little deeper, and what I think it boils down to is that we consider ourselves sub-human. Not completely worthless, but not up to par. We start off worse, at a deficit that we're constantly trying to make up for. The thing is. Nothing can make up for it. We spend the majority of our life trying to be the best at everything. Not b/c we have to be the best just to be the best, but we're afraid if we're not really good at it, we won't be accepted. We have to be the best daughter we know how to be, the best friend, the best girlfriend, the best employee, the best client, etc... If we fail in any of those areas, those specific people may decide we aren't worth their time, attention, love, whatever... So the question is, how do you change who you are at your core? Or as my therapist says, it's not my core, it's my perception of my core... So how do I change a fundamental belief about who we are as a being? Is that even possible?

You don't realize how bad things are until they get better...

This is a lesson I was reminded of today. It was not in the usual way. For the past 2 weeks, I've been fighting a sinus infection. I knew I was sick, but like most things I sucked it up and continued to work, go out, and continue on with life like normal. By last Wednesday, I was no match for the sickness and I broke down and went to the doctor on Thursday. The doctor chastized me for not coming in sooner, saying I had a severe sinus infection. She wrote me a prescription for 2 antibiotics and gave me samples of a prescriptions strength antihistamine. I spent Thurs, Fri, and Sat in bed, ventured out a little on Sunday and finally went back to work today. Until today it seemed that the doctor, my family, and others were overreacting. I was sick, but I wasn't that sick. Now that I'm on the mend and feeling better, it's easy to see the contrast in how I felt 4 days ago and how I feel today. I really was in a bad place. I really was pretty sick. The only way I seem to be able to gauge this though is by how much easier everyday stuff was to do today. I felt happier, had more energy, could think more clearly, etc.

I then, being the apt student of life that I am ;), started thinking about how often I do this with my mental and emotional life too. I don't know if I get used to feeling bad a lot or if I just easily forget what feeling good can be like, but looking back, I constantly play down my bad feelings and tell myself and others that things aren't that bad. I did this last year, when internally we were at our worst.. our most suicidal... we still managed to pull off a good doctoral interview and put in 40 hours a week at work up until the day I was admitted inpatient.

Why is it so hard to admit when I'm really doing bad? And is it that it's too hard to admit or is it that I don't recognize when things are really bad? I don't consider myself a positive, sunny side up person, but looking at my life, I think I tend to play down all of the negative things in my life. I don't know what this means... if it means anything.. Just something I noticed today.

Confused

I woke up feeling more clear headed and healthier today. After taking it easy this morning, I decided it would be good to get out of the house for a bit. I took a simple 1 hour trip to Walmart. The trip was uneventful, but I found the longer I was away from home, the more cloudy my head got, the harder it felt to stay grounded, and I felt more and more switchy. By the time I made it back to my car, I was no shape to drive home, but I didn't want to sit in the raining Walmart parking lot all evening. I managed to make it home safe.

I've been home for about an hour now and my head is clearing again. I had thought the fogginess in my head was related to my sinus infection. My primary care seemed to think that was a logical symptom for the sinus infection. I must admit; I agreed b/c I woke up feeling better and more clear headed today. Now I'm second guessing things. I'm not getting feedback from inside, so I'm back to be very unsure whether this fog in my brain is from a physical sickness or from a part who is struggling. Regardless, this is the last day I can stay home, but I was hoping to feel better when I picked my life back up. Now I feel more confused than ever. It's so frustrating to not know the cause of a symptom b/c then I have no idea where to start to try and fix things. Maybe I'm not supposed to fix things. It is February after all. Maybe I'm supposed to be okay with feeling like crap b/c at least this crap isn't sending me inpatient..... right??

Today

Feeling a little more emotionally stable today. Still physically sick, but I finally went to the doctor yesterday and got an antibiotic, so hopefully I'll start feeling better soon. I can't remember the last time I took 2 1/2 days off of work because I was physically sick. Sadly, I'm usually going to work while I'm physically sick so I can save my sick days for my mental/emotional breakdowns. It is a very good feeling, but still a very strange feeling to not be planning my next inpatient trip. For the past 5 years, in the back of my head, I'm constantly planning when my next IP visit will work - with insurance, days off work, events I can't miss, etc. I used sick time this week because my body is sick, and I'm not freaking out b/c that's 2 1/2 days I have less to use towards inpatient treatment. Pretty cool. Not that I'm sick, but that I'm not freaking out.

Still feeling vulnerable towards other people, but after talking with my therpist yesterday, I'm thinking some of my vulnerability is the same "normal" people feel in relationships as well. Maybe I'm just more sensitive to being hurt or something? Hmm... having feelings that normal people have? Interesting.....

Time for more cough medicine. :P

Too Vulerable

I've made the mistake of letting myself feel too vulnerable over the past 2 days. I want to take it back, but I don't know how. My anxiety is really high and I'm feeling naseus. It doesn't help that I'm physically sick right now. I always feel more vulnerable when I'm sick. Usually my emotions shut down to compensate, but that hasn't happened this time. I feel so stupid. I think this is mostly my fault too. If I would keep my big mouth shut and not let people know how much I need them and care about them. I did it with my therapist on Monday. I did it with my boyfriend last night, and I did it with my best friend today. Nothing bad has happened from any of these situations, but I'm feeling so vulnerable and exposed. Now, I expect to be hurt deeply and soon. Why do I do this to myself? Haven't I learned by now to always share my feelings 2nd? Only after I'm sure the other person is as committed? And I feel stupid b/c I've been crying a lot today about all of this. What in the world??? I'm trying to think rationally. A lot of this could seem so much larger than it really is b/c I am physically sick. However, that doesn't make me feel better at this particular moment. Can I just go to sleep and wake up when my body is healed and then try to sort this emotional mess out?

Love?

Myboyfriend sent me a Valentine's Day card from Afghanistan. Because of the distance, I just got it today. He's sent me two cards and had flowers delivered to my house in the 2 1/2 months that he's been gone. He is such a blessing in my life. I love him with all of my heart and would marry him tomorrow if he asked. My struggle is that he appears to feel the same way about me, yet that seems impossible. No one should ever have so many good feelings towards me. It will make more sense when I tell you what he wrote in the card. There is reference to Biblical scripture. Some readers may be offended or not agree with it, but it is very important in our relationship, so it will be included in this post.

His words inside the card:

A wise man once told me that someone should not need a hallmark holiday to express his/her feelings for that special someone, but should do it regularly and randomly. I would agree, but didn't want you to feel left out when I am on the other side of the world. :)
1 Peter 3:3-5 "Your beauty should not come form outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."
I am continually reminded and thank the Lord that He has blessed me with both. You are and have been an answer to my prayers. I love you!

------
Can that really be true about me/us? Can someone really, geniunely feel that way and not be expecting anything in return? I don't deserve that kind of love and unconditional acceptance from another human, but he continues to give it. I do not ask him for it. It never crossed my mind that someone would want to give that to me. It's an amazing feeling but very hard to reconcile at the same time. He knows the basics of my past, and he's okay with it. He doesn't know about us being DID. That might change his mind? Right? This has got to be too good to be true. No way something this good and this wonderful can be happening to me...

Can someone pinch me?

ah Aha! moment

Lately I've been wondering why a part, Angel, who has been talking a lot in therapy and basically never surfaces except in therapy has trouble remembering what was discussed in therapy at the next session. We meet twice a week, so it's not like there's more than 3 days between a session. Knowing myself like I do, I've spent the past couple of weeks trying to use this as another way to prove that I am not DID. If all this one part was forward for was therapy and nothing else, then surely she should remember what was discussed.... Since she wasn't remembering, maybe I wasn't really switching, and my mind does get filled up with other stuff throughout the week: work, school, friends, family, external life stuff.

Today therapist reminded Angel of something she said at the end of last week's session. Angel said in response to something therapist said that she couldn't take it in. Her head was too full. There was no room for anything else..... A lightbulb went off in my mind. Of course she can't remember what's discussed in therapy b/c she's being overloaded every session.

I briefly touched in the last post about how therapist is having to learn about time structuring sessions so as to not overwhelm us each session. I believe these intense, overwhelming sessions have contributed to Angel not remembering the helpful things from sessions. Therapist and I talked about this today and we're going to take things in smaller portions and decrease the amount of time intense topics are discussed each week. Hopefully this will help things sink in better for Angel and keep me from getting overwhelmed during and after every session.

We can at least hold onto this hope until next session.... *fingers crossed*

10 years of therapy- the condensed version

If I talked about all of my therapists and all of my different experiences, I'd never get to the point in this blog where I could talk about current day stuff, so I'm going to try to give the condensed version of my therapeutic experiences starting with Dr. M.

I started seeing Dr. M in Feb 2002. She was smart, kind, caring, available to provide the help I needed, etc. The only initial problem we saw is that she had no DID experience, but she was still under supervision at the time and her supervisor had DID experience, so she took us on as a client. At first things were great. We felt really supported. She didn't freak out when we switched in front of her. She even let us e-mail her outside of sessions. I don't know when thing started to go downhill. I was functioning worse, but that's b/c for the first time in my life I was doing real therapy work.. the hard stuff. I was cutting more and we were meeting regularly twice a week. We did call her some outside of sessions, but only in crises situations, and she never let on that we were calling her too much. At some point, best I can tell, our symptoms began to overwhelm her. She lost the ability to keep good boundaries and began to get really stressed out over us all the time. One day she walked into session and said we needed to find me someone who could help me more. I didn't want a new therapist, but at first I wasn't opposed b/c she made it sound like I would see someone else temporarily or in conjunction with her. In Aug. 2003 we started trying to find me a new t. No one within 100 miles was willing to take my case. I think talking to other therapists who said I was "too much" for them to take on scared Dr. M, and she became more and more convinced she couldn't keep me. By Thanksgiving, it was definite that she would no longer be my therapist as soon as she could find me a new one. I/we had no say in the matter. For years after, we would think her dropping us was our fault.... If only we'd been a better client... not so needy... had it more together... The realization that Dr. M did not want to be our therapist a minute longer than she had to, along with the fact that no one else was willing to take us as a client, sent us on a major downward spiral. Dec. 26, 2003, I had my first hospital admission. I was only there for 7 days. Being in a treatment center freaked me out and my system shut down. In the week that we were IP, Dr. M found a replacement therapist for us whose office was 1 1/2 hrs away, and we had a terminating session the week I returned home.

The therapist that Dr. M set me up with, along with the 10-12 that followed were awful. One spent the whole time wanting to tell my how my faith was wrong (what did that have to do with therapy?); one told me she would take me, but could only see me once a week, and the first time I self-injured, she would drop me; I did settle with one lady for about 2 1/2 months, but I never liked her and she fell asleep during mutiple sessions. I basically just used her to get readmitted to the treatment center in April 2004, where I stayed for 3 weeks. I learned some good coping skills that stay and again discharged home to a new therapist. Who, surprise, was an idiot!!! I went about 6 weeks without a therapist at all when a friend of mine hooked me up with J. J didn't have DID experience, but he had a lot of trauma experience and a lot of years of practice under his belt. With J's help, I managed to stay outpatient for a year and a half to finish my master's degree.

Things were continuing to go downhill, and while J was an excellent therapist, he didn't have the time to learn how to help with DID issues because he was so over booked. I ended up in inpatient treatment again Aug. 2005, where I spent 1 month inpatient and 3 weeks in a day hospital program. I came back home to J (first time I discharged home to the therapist who put me in) and we worked for another few months, but I was still declining rapidly. In Jan. 2006, I ended up back inpatient for the fourth time where I stayed for 6 weeks. I think they would have kept me longer, but I was out of insurance days. My treatment team decided more needed to be done than what I was currently doing, so I picked up and moved to a larger city about 2 1/2 hrs. away from where I was living to see a therapist who was supposed to be a DID expert. I'm really beginning to wonder if those that claim they are experts are the psycho ones, b/c this lady was no exception.

I was very blessed to find my current t about 2 months after moving to the new city. It was chance if you want to call it that. I call it God. I called the first 20 counselors listed on my insurance list and left messages. Then I waited for return calls. I was surprised by how many never called me back, and out of those that did, only 2 were willing to meet with me in person. Current t met with me for an initial session, and I put her through the wringer. I was not wasting any more of my time on someone who wasn't really in this for the long haul. She impressed me by not seeming intimidated at all, but honestly I just thought she was too naive to know what she was getting into. The other lady I met with decided after 5 minutes that she couldn't help me, and told me bluntly that my current t wouldn't be able to help me either. Apparently, they knew each other. I am SO GLAD I did not listen to that lady!!!!!

Current t is the best t we've had. In May we will have been together for 3 years (longest I've ever stayed with one therapist) She and I have both had to learn a lot in the process. We've both made lots of mistakes, and I've had to go inpatient twice while seeing her, but she's sticking it out with us and learning new things all the time. Therapy is kicking my tail these days, but I think that's b/c we're actually doing the work you're supposed to be doing in trauma therapy, and I get the impression that current t and I both feel like rookies some days in session. We're struggling right now to find boundaries in sessions so as to not overwhelm us again. We haven't been inpatient this winter yet, and we'd really like not to go. If we don't go inpatient, it will be the first winter in 5 years that we haven't gone IP. It would feel like a huge accomplishment for us.

Anyways, this is a crazy long post, and believe it or not, this is the very edited version, but I think this gets us up to date on where we stand therapeutically. So, maybe after I see t tonight, if I want to blog about the session things will make more sense.

The beginnings of Therapy

I remember the day my mom drove me to my first therapy appointment. The counselor I was going to see had an office in her home. I was soooo nervous. After years of avoiding, I was now purposely going to look at things. My first T, we'll call her P, was very nice. I didn't know anything about therapists or what to expect. While she was a great help to me at the time, I don't think I would choose to see her now.

My mom took me into her office. There were soft chairs and couches. P could obviously tell I was nervous, and asked if I wanted my mom to stay for the session. I couldn't speak, but I adamantly shook my head no. The last thing I wanted was to try and talk about anything in front of my mom. She was feeling like such a failure at the time that she didn't know about the abuse to protect me. How could I talk about this painful stuff in front of her? I guess our first session was a typical intake session, except I didn't have that many specific memories at that point, just lots of flashes of things. I was really vague the first several sessions. It's amazing we actually ever got anywhere. I attribute some of this to the fact that about 2 months before I started therapy, I began hearing voices in my head... One voice more prominent than others... it was a child's voice and for some reason the name Julie was always associated with the voice. I seriously thought I was going crazy, and now that I was seeing this therapist, I thought if she found out, I'd be locked up somewhere.

Along the way, I met an amazing person online. She was the same age as me but was a couple of years ahead of me in therapy. We struck up a good friendship and eventually I told her about my "crazy" symptoms. She just laughed and told me I wasn't crazy. She then proceeded to tell me she had DID and what she experienced on a daily basis. I was amazed at how much I could relate to, but for awhile I thought maybe she was just crazy too.

More and more voices came, so after almost 6 months of therapy with P, I finally got up the nerve to tell her about the voices in my head and how they made comments on my life and talked to each other. To my surprise P wasn't shocked at all. In fact, looking back, she didn't seemed surprised at all. I wonder if we'd be exhibiting signs of DID before we told her and she just hadn't called us on it yet? I've never thought about that before. I feel so blessed that my first therapist believed in DID and correctly diagnosed me. She helped me gain a basic understanding of DID and develop safe places internally for scared parts. If I'd known what I was getting into when I started this therapy, I wonder if I would have continued. And if I had known, would I have stayed with P? After 8 months of seeing P and learning a lot about why my head was the way it was, I parted ways with P to leave for college 3 1/2 hours away.

The therapist I was supposed to see once I started college turned out to be an airhead and had no clue what to do with me. I dropped her after 2 sessions. A good friend, who deemed it imperative that I stay in therapy, got a psych teacher on campus to agree to meet with me once a week for free. He is a very good man and an excellent therapist, but I don't think he ever saw me as a client. We met for 2 1/2 years for about 30 minutes, once a week, and didn't really talk about things of significance. Looking back, I think we were both just appeasing my friend.

I did well in school, but continued to decline mentally and emotionally over my first 2 1/2 years of college. I started cutting first semester my freshman year of college and my addiction to that grew as things continued to build inside, and I wasn't finding a good enough outlet.

February 2002 I reached my limit. A girl on my floor in my dorm claimed she had been raped on our campus. (Later she confessed this was a lie. Don't even get me started on that.) This news shattered my world. My safe, small, christian school was no longer safe. We had a dorm meeting that night. The school dean, my dorm mom, and the new teacher/counselor for students held the meeting. Apparently, I dissociated at some point during the meeting b/c the next thing I know this new counselor was on one side of me and my friend (who went and got her) was on the other side of me. It was agreed that I would meet with this new counselor the next day.

My relationship with Dr. M began that evening and would prove to be 2 of the best and most traumatizing years of my life all at the same time.

A little history...take 2

November 9, 1997- I woke up really early in the morning reeling from horrible nightmares. Nightmares of things I knew couldn't be true. I knew the people in my dreams. They couldn't have done those horrible things to me. Why would I even dream that? I wasn't abused. I had a fantastic childhood.... no traumatic events. What kind of horrible person was I to dream up such awful things about my neighbors.... good people. Since it was so early in the morning, I lied back down and tried to go back to sleep, but it wasn't a restful sleep.

The memories of those dreams haunted me the next few days, but I didn't have any other dreams or memories, so I just shrugged them off as a night of awful nightmares that my crazy mind concocted. About a month later, I had my first awake memory. It freaked me out. Not b/c that specific memory was all that bad but because I saw it while I was awake, and I couldn't make sense of it. Dreams and memories began coming on a regular basis after that. By January 1998, I was having them almost daily.

In March, I finally broke down and told my Youth Minister. He'd recently received his master's degree in Counseling, and it seemed like a good place to start. It took him until July to convince me to tell my parents. Telling them is a post all it's own. My youth minister suggested I get into counseling immediately, but I refused b/c I was still a minor and was adamant about not reporting the situation. I was still having a hard time believing it was real. I convinced my family and my youth minister to let me wait until I turned 18 in December before I started therapy. In the meantime, my family and I just pretended like we'd never talked about it, and I found solace in a couple of online forums.

My first therapy session was Dec. 28, 1998.

A little history...

I had a killer therapy session today and considered writing about that. However, I decided it wouldn't make much sense yet b/c I've done nothing to talk about what's brought me to where I am in the first place. I think this history will be basic, and I'll let individual posts share more specifics, as I/we feel we want to.

I don't remember the exact age things started. Somewhere during the year that the body was 4. The family next door had a son my age and a daughter a year younger than my little sister. There really weren't any other kids in the neighborhood, but B (the son) and I were such good friends from as far back as we can remember, I don't think it mattered that there were no other kids in the neighborhood.

From what I've gathered from my parents we lived next door to this family from the time we moved into the house. I was 18 months old when we moved in, so it's hard to pinpoint at what age B and I became friends and began walking the path through the empty lot between our houses to play together. It was a wooded lot that my parents owned, and we walked the path so much, there was a clear trail to follow through the "woods" to each others' yards. It's a very confusing time for me, b/c some of our best childhood memories are playing with B outside in the summers. Going to his house became hell once his dad got involved.

Somewhere around the age of 4, B's dad took a noticeable liking to us.... or at least that's when He began to show us (cannot say abusers name to say outloud to anyone, so for the purposes of this blog, I will refer to him as He or Him, with a capitol H). Things started slow and progressed over the years, but the gist of the story is that He became my main abuser and things continued on a regular basis until the body was almost 9. He got a job transfer and moved away when we were 9. I say He was my main abuser b/c along the road B became an active part in several of our "activities". I don't see this as B's fault. He and I were the same age. B was just as much a victim as me. I saw Him and his family once again when the body was 12, and I saw B, his sis, and his mom when the body was 16. We haven't seen or talked to them since.

When I saw Him at 12 and his family at 16, we had already managed to suppress all of the memories, and I didn't even know I was a "we". Thankfully nothing happened during those visits, but I remember being petrified to be around them and not understanding why. Things started to unravel 1 month before my 17th birthday.

Well, I think this is a good start. Don't want to overwhelm us or anyone who may choose to read this. More to come.

Job interview

I have a job interview tomorrow for a therapist/case manager position at a local school. I'm actually really excited about it. I know I still have a lot of my own stuff to work through, but I feel like I can be really good at the job and know how to set good boundaries and practice self-care now. The best part is that I would be on school schedule, so I'd get all school breaks and summers off!! That would be awesome!!!!

For anyone who may actually be reading this blog. I know I haven't posted much about me or my history. I plan to, but I'm working up the courage. Just now starting to tell therapist some things in sessions. Putting it in writing feels like it will make it even more real. I'm working on it though. I really want this to be a place where I can just put things out there... right or wrong.

Have therapy this evening, so if I'm not too exhausted, I'll get online tonight and see what we can get started.

Rainy Wednesday

It's winter. It's raining. And all I want to do is crawl in bed and go to sleep. I am not motivated to be at work today. Blah.

I just talked to my boyfriend via google chat. He's in the US Army and is currently stationed in Afghanistan. He's a helicopter pilot and was involved in his first real combat situation today. He is fine and all of his air guys are fine, but the ground troops suffered some losses. This brings up an array of emotions for me. 1. I'm glad he actually told me he had a bad day and what happened. I was really afraid he'd try to keep me in the dark the whole time he was gone. 2. I'm thrilled that he is safe and back at the base. 3. I hurt more than I thought possible for those families who are finding out their loved ones are now gone. 4. That boyfriend is away at WAR just became real. 5. Increase in the fear that he might not make it home to me. 6. And wanting more than anything just to be able to throw my arms around his neck right now and tell him I love him.

As honest as we are with each other, I feel I can't share this with him. I'm afraid if he realizes how many emotions this one incident brought up in me, he'll shut me out and not tell me anything else going on over there b/c he'll want to protect me. I don't want to be shut out. I want to know everything. The good and the really awful. I want to be there for him however I can. I feel so helpless here, so far away. We are tough. We know we can handle this, and we have support here to help us. So, I guess that's why I'm writing this here right now. I want to be a support for him, not a stressor. So, we'll write about it, talk to our therapist and friends and hopefully the anxiety will pass soon. I signed up for this when I fell in love with him knowing he was in the Army, right?

Lord, please keep your hands on him and grant him peaceful sleep tonight.

First Post

I'm not quite sure the direction this blog will take. I'm not sure if anyone will read it. I'm not sure I'm even going to be good at this. What I am sure of is that I need an outlet. A mostly anonymous outlet to talk about my life. A few of my good friends have been blogging for awhile, but I've stayed a traditional journal girl. Not quite sure where the desire to blog online is coming from, but I'm obliging to it. I'm sure it's coming from somewhere inside.

I guess a little introduction would be nice. I am actually a "we". I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder in 1999. Around the same time I received diagnoses of PTSD and Major Depression, and began what has been 10 years of off and on therapy with several different therapists. Some have been excellent. Some I wish I could forget. I've been with my current therapist for almost 3 years, and she's fantastic! She's done more to help our system than all of the rest of our therapists put together. We actually feel like we're on our way to healing now instead of using therapy just to try and stay alive. Things are not easy. Winter seems to be our hardest time of year, but so far we're making it safely and one day at a time.

I just created this blog on a whim, but I'm already glad we did. I need to stop for now and figure out where we want this blog to go. We'll post again soon and hopefully over time, learn to share and not be so vague. Maybe something we write here to help us will help someone else along the way.

Anything is possible at this point..