Friday, June 17, 2016

Anger

Anger

I have been wanting to blog for sometime.  It isn't like I don't have the time.  I just don't have the words.  I have many blog posts stored in my head.  The moment I sit down to write them the words...they disappear like bandit in the night.

If I were to blog this post "right here and now" as I am writing..it may come out as a rant and rave.  I am likely to regret later anything that I publish now.  It is my intent, to be candid and honest.  However, I will go back and clean up extensive foul language....which usually comes out the most when I am angry.

I know it is important to express being angry.  I AM ANGRY.  This is a feeling that everyone of us have inside....anger.  Many of us avoid anger at all costs.  We are raised to 'contain' our anger.  It is a very scary and uncomfortable feeling to have so much anger.  There is not one thing about it that I enjoy or like.  Often in my life, anger was not displayed appropriately.  It has only been in the recent months/year that I(we) have been able to learn how anger can be felt and expressed appropriately and in a healthy manner.

Trauma survivors...we have plenty of things to be angry about.  I know that. I get it.  I know that in no way am I overreacting.  Yet, other things I am angry about, alone by themselves, would not warrant the strong feelings of anger that I have.  However, they tend to pile up on top of everything else with everything that makes me angry.....add more fuel to the fire.  The fire gets larger and larger the more anger is contained in an unhealthy manner (aka: keeping my mouth shut and containing it)

I am trying very hard to control myself, on the outside, things on the inside feel completely out of control.  I want to lash out at someone and yet I know that won't help anything.  I want to scream at the top of my lungs and yet I have no words when I try to.  I have this burning in the pit of my stomach and it feels like at anytime I can regurgitate 40 years worth of anger at the next person that says "hi" or looks at me odd.

I am so afraid of saying something I will regret, I often can not express the anger I have to the one person who is safe and has all but said "bring it on...".  I can't blog about these things without making sure what I write is 'appropriate'.  I am stuck only writing about the experience of feeling anger.

I know that it is important to release this anger and to be able to express it in a healthy manner.  It is important that I do so appropriately and in a way that will help me and not hurt me.

Random Thoughts....

I can't place my finger on what seems to be going on internally.  It's almost like the emotional roller coaster ride that never ends.  Sometimes it is really intense and others not so much.  Then the ride is intense again and I'm holding on for dear life again.

One minute I am doing well. The next I am in tears. The next I am yelling at my husband.  And another I am literally shaking and questioning myself on everything.  Then I am back to a place where I think I got a handle on things and it is going ok.  The rapid changes, rapid switching and unpredictability is very hard to manage and deal with.  I am feeling unstable even though I don't know exactly why and it's hard to explain why and what is going on.

I know there's stuff going on internally that is creating the undercurrent of a lot of these feelings. The intensity seems to be getting worse.  Often over the last few weeks (and always my therapist will ask how I am doing.  I keep saying ok bc I don't know how else to explain what is going on.  There are really no words to describe what I am feeling.  I worry that as time continues to go on and I am unable to describe what I am experiencing she will not know how to help me.  If I can't tell her how is she supposed to know?  She can usually tell by facial expressions and body language there is something going on.  Often it feels like she has the words that I don't.

I am thankful I don't have do this alone.  I have a therapist who is there to help me through this.  I have a husband that is trying to learn and be more understanding. I have my best friend who is trying her best to be supportive as she can from 5 states away.  Ultimately, at the end of the day....days like today...I need them by my side when I feel as though I am sinking miserable and feel so unstable.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Dirty little B* called Shame...

At some point a few months ago I came to the realization that most of my 40+ years on this earth have been filled with shame.  It is a theme that has pepper sprayed my life from the time I was very young.  There have been things that have come out in therapy in the last year, that continue to come to light, and the common theme for me is shame.  In addition to my abuse struggles, came several years of infertility and then a failed adoption...these things added to the shame that was already there.

I want to be in a place where I can let go of the shame.  Damn it has a really tight grip on me though. It isn't a fun place to be in.  It is so deeply ingrained into my though process and mind, into who I am as a being, it's been there for nearly 40 years.  It is so deeply rooted the process of shedding the shame is like manually separating muscles from my bones.  It is feels impossible.  It is excruciating.  I have had four shoulder surgeries in less than 4 years.  It feels impossible to be be able let it go.

I am sure if you talk to my therapist she will share with you (and me) that it is possible.  I am thankful for her hope and commitment to me. If I am honest, I will tell you that I have a very hard time believing it is no more possible than it is for me to get a new body.

If I am being honest, I will say that therapy feels kind of like a war zone most of the time.  I often wonder if we will survive all of the minefields in the ward zone. As with so much of the things that drive the struggles I continue to have, shame drives these thoughts.

Today...I am breathing.  Today...I am alive.  Today...I continue to put one foot in front of the other.  It's all I can do.

Friday, March 25, 2016

Empowering yourself....ROAR

I don't get real worked up over many musicians. I have a few favorites.  Generally speaking, they are not worldly musicians. People that are mostly religious based.  

I left therapy appt tonight with a headache that topped it all. I didn't get very far from the clinic before I stopped because it was so bad.  Once I got home I sat in my car with my head in my hands fighting back tears. This headache had became a migraine. It is the typical "switching....aka therapy headache".  Only tonight it was much worse than it has been in a long time.  

About the time I was going to get out of my car "Roar" by Katy Perry came on the radio.  Within a few lines of the song, I could no longer fight back tears. This song applies to survivors of any kind. The ability to speak out, to own your truth, tell your story, the ability to Roar against this illness...it is empowering.  

So this is for anyone feeling hopeless, powerless or no longer able to keep fighting....let the words empower you. Let them fill your heart and soul and empower you to keep on getting up....keep on fighting.  Keep on Roaring.

Katy Perry's Roar

Lyrics:

I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath
Scared to rock the boat and make a mess
So I sat quietly, agreed politely
I guess that I forgot I had a choice (Not that abuse victims ever have a choice)
I let you push me past the breaking point
I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything
You held me down, but I got up (hey!)
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, your hear that sound
Like thunder, gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up
Get ready 'cause I had enough
I see it all, I see it now
I got the eye of the tiger, the fire
Dancing through the fire
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar!
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
You're gonna hear me roar!
 
Now I'm floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero
You held me down, but I got up (hey!)
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, your hear that sound
Like thunder, gonna shake the ground
You held me down, but I got up
Get ready 'cause I've had enough
I see it all, I see it now
I got the eye of the tiger, the fire
Dancing through the fire
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar!
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
You're gonna hear me roar!
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
You're gonna hear me roar!
Roar, roar, roar, roar, roar!
I got the eye of the tiger, the fire
Dancing through the fire
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
'Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar!
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
You're gonna hear me roar!
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
You're gonna hear me roar!

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

The Struggle is Real

Every single day, I feel the struggle to determine if what I am feeling is normal or is it related to D.I.D. Every action I take, every emotion, every word is analyzed on the spot so that I don't make an ass of myself or worse. Reveal to those around me what is really going on.  

This shit is exhausting.....not to mention nearly  impossible.

How can I determine if something is normal, when I don't know what normal is? Have I ever been normal? That is the million dollar question.  Most of my adult life I have watched others and thought they were so much more put together than I am.  They are adulting so much different than what I am.  Occasionally, I have felt inferior and like I didn't have it together.  Hell most days I don't have it together.  As I have gotten older, I have come to realize that almost everyone is wearing a mask.  Nobody really feels like they have it all together and under control.  My mask got so good over the years that I have come to fool myself at times.  There was a time when I thought I had my stuff to together.

Then it all came crashing down.  There are days, weeks, months, and even years like this one....when I know that I am far from having my shit together.  I've been slammed with the fact that I have control over nothing.  It has been the hardest thing for me to deal with, that loss of the imagined control.  On the surface, I can come across as being calm and reasonable.  I have recently had several individuals tell me "but you seem so calm and collected".  To which I reply "if you only knew".  I know that underneath, there is a storm brewing, threatening to consume me from the inside out.  I can feel the spinning of the oncoming hurricane as my head gets louder and louder until, inevitable, I can no longer keep it in.

But is that normal?  Since I have become an adult...the last three years have been  the hardest years of my life.  I have been through abuse, years of infertility, years of therapy, years of the wrong therapy with therapist how poo-poo'd me, the loss of a child who still is living and breathing, the loss of jobs, the loss of my home, several mental health diagnoses, and the latest diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder, and so much more.  I keep telling myself that as long as I continue to get up and move,, then there is still hope.  Then all of these things...they haven't beaten me yet and I am still strong; but part of me wonders why I always feel the need to be strong.  Is it defeat if I just say to hell with it all and walk away? Yep. That is what I think. But what the hell do I know anyway?

This is what I do know.

I am exhausted. I am exhausted by the circumstance that led to this thing that I call my life.  I am exhausted by trying to figure out if I am reacting appropriately to those around me...to these circumstances that have led me to where I am today.  I am exhausted by the intense therapy that I am involved in.  I am continuously reminded that this shit is real...it is real exhausting.  I have always been a big supporter that "life is 10% what happens, 90% how you deal with it," but holy shit lately, as in this last year, I don't feel like I'm dealing with it at all.

I recently read a blog post that someone wrote about what she admired within herself.  I have every intention on blogging more and then I don't. I write hundreds of posts in my head. They never make it to this blog.  My goal will to be able to write "What I Admire Within Myself" next.  Something a little more positive.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

All of Me...


Last night as I was listening to my ipod and trying to make sense of "all that is me"...this song came on.

I remember hearing this song a few years ago and it spoke very loud and clear to "me".  The DJ at the time said "my friendsd...those of you who are wear, have lost your way, feel as if you are broken....this is for you.  Surrendoer all of your heart (and more)...."

That would be me. Weary. Broken. Lost. Grief Stricken. Over. And. Over.

Monday, January 4, 2016

It's Time To Talk...Stigma

While it may be my goal to write this blog and begin to talk about my experiences living with Dissociative Identity Disorder, I am in many ways very invisible.  There are many who have read this blog over the last few years who know who I am.  Yet, at the same time there will be many who don't know me. I contemplated beginning a new blog where, I can express my views and be honest about my life, my difficulties, my experiences....safe in knowing that no one would know who I was. I have decided it is high time I begin to talk.

This week I have been thinking about why I chose in most circumstances not to discuss my diagnosis. I realized that my fears surrounding the stigma of mental illness really do impact my everyday life.  It is time to talk.

I guess to the outside world looking in I may seem very normal...whatever that might be.   I do not carry a label saying I have mental health issues. However, many who know me know that I do.  I do not carry a label that says "I have D.I.D.".

Obviously, when I meet people for the first time, I tend to skip over the fact that I have DID, and the fact that I have been hospitalized for severe depression and suicidal ideation. I do not lie. I just do not expand on certain issues.  I have a crap load of medical professionals in my life currently. Unless asked, I do not bring this up. Again, I will not lie. However, I do not expand. It is my expectation that they will ask.

My birth father is deceased.  My mother and step-father are still alive.  I do not ever say I was a victim of child sexual abuse and that one of my parents did the best she could and the other was the abuser.  I will tell you that my abuser ended his life a few years ago.  A few years to late....

The fear of rejection is fairly huge. I chose to limit what I tell people, even if I have known someone a long time I am often not upfront and open.  Why?  Truth be told I would like you to judge me as a person and not a label.  To see me as an equal who can contribute to society and can make a difference to this world that I live in.  I want you to see me as a wife and mother of two beautiful, well adjusted and smart teenagers and a wife.  So I try and seamlessly interact with society, despite everything I work at me fitting in to a world that at times is extremely frightening, triggering and scary.

It isn't easy for someone with DID to live in this world and appear normal.  I often switch between parts, my voice changes, my facial expressions change, my mannerisms change.  For many years I have tried very hard to try and plan and prepare for everything just to look normal, you see just being out there and being adult....it takes a huge toll on me...on anyone with DID.

I find it extremely hard to justify why I am so forgetful.  Why am I loosing track of a conversation half way through?  Why I have to keep time in my schedule free...just so I can either rest and recover.  Yet the reality is people don't recognize instantly that I have DID.  They do not realize when we have switched between parts/alters unless of course we react in a very clear physical way or the change is very drastic, they will just assume I am forgetful or pre-occupied with something else.

My husband, best friend (who lives 5 states away) and therapist...they know me well enough to know that these memory lapses are because of DID.  Only my therapist can tell instantly when there has been a change. My bff when we are together is also able to tell instantly.  My husband...he is learning and slowly figuring it out.  Often, my husband is able to prompt me during discussions because he knows where the forgetfulness is coming from.  He attends 99% of all doctor appts with me because of this very reason.

Society views mental health with scepticism.  The statistic that 1 in 4 people will struggle with some sort of mental health related issue....society tells us that it won't happen to us.  Indeed, with the 1 in 4 statistic, you know a minimum of 1 person who struggles with mental health issues.

Fear and stigma surround us.  There are tv programs about mental health, however it is often more for entertainment and just creates more stigma in my opinion.

People do not generally know anything about D.I.D, it is not the most talked about issue.  There is VERY Little coverage in the media about dissociative disorders.  Why? Because the underlying issue is trauma. Media doesn't want to talk about trauma.

Being victim of child abuse and young adult who was victim of abuse leaves a stigma that goes above and beyond mental health.  As a young adult, I was told it was my fault. I tend to hid the shame and the guilt I carry and have carried since being a very young child.  As a very young child I was told I was bad.  The harsh reality is of course I was a child/young adult, who was hurt.  Who suffered at the hands of adults and and employer who should have protected me or at the very least not hurt me.

Ultimately, I tend not to tell people about having a diagnosis of D.I.D because I am ashamed, not of the diagnosis or my parts but of what has happened to me.  I carry an extreme amount of shame that belongs to someone else. My abusers. One who is dead. One who is not.  This is my own self created stigma, I know.

Admitting that I have D.I.D means I am admitting not just to them but to myself, that what happened to me is a reality and as much as I sometimes wish I could, I can't deny my past.  I cant wash it away. I somehow need to embrace it. I need to someone how take up the mantel of rebuilding a life out of my past.

I want to live with this diagnosis and all of its difficulties and challenges. I want to not be a victim but a survivor. I do not want to be a statistic of someone who had a mental illness that is not commonly recognized and went misdiagnosed for 15 years while seeking mental health treatment.

My personal challenge in the coming weeks and months is to start dealing with the stigma. If people stop talking to me, judge me or ignore me. So be it. That is their problem not mine.

I am who I am.

I am the 1 in 4.

It is about damn time I begin talking....

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Changes...

Just over a year ago, I lost my therapist due to insurance change. I had seen N. for about 10 months when I was no longer able to see her. After about 4-5 months without a therapist, I started seeing R. in mid March.  It was a devastating change. It has been a rocky 9 months with R. Learning to trust her has been rough.  She is committed to helping her patients.  She is committed to helping me. Afterall she was the 11th therapist I have had.  The last blog post "Eleven" highlights a little bit about that change and the positive that came from that change. Even though the change was fairly rough....it has been a blessing in disguise.  

It is my goal for 2016 to revive this blog. The aim of this blog will change to bringing awareness to Dissociative Identity Disorder.  I will also be blogging about the reasons why I have D.I.D. and continue to blog about mental health related issues.

I was diagnosed in 2014 with Dissociative Identiy Disorder.  It wasn't until I began seeing my current therapist the diagnosis was confirmed, following a number of mis-diagnoses over the last 15 years.  While life is still very rough. There has been a lot of positive that have come out of this diagnosis.

What is a Dissociative Disorder?
Dissociation is a coping skill that disconnects traumatic memories from one's consciousness, shielding them from the pain or fear associated with the trauma.  The traumatic memories still exist but are deeply buried within the mind.  The memories may resurface on their own or after being triggered by something in the person's life, usually appearing as panic, anxiety, flashbacks, and nightmares.  
For more information on Dissociative Identity Disorder please check out this link:  Infinite Mind's Website

 




Monday, June 22, 2015

Eleven...


In my post a few weeks ago I mentioned that something has happened with this new therapist.  It is the first time in 15 yrs of therapy...actually 16 years that someone was not afraid to touch the root of what is going on.  My last therapist, N., she saw it.  She knew what was going on.  However, 2 shoulder surgeries in the first 5 months of seeing her didn't give her the ability to dig deep into what was going on.  She did more stabilization and working on building trust and some light(er) ground work. 

ELEVEN.

That is the number of therapist I have had prior to seeing R.

She is the first person to address the abuse and trauma head on and not back off.  She hasn't let "me" get scared, freak out and tell her nope, nadda, not going there, nothing....and backed off.  Instead, in those moments she has hunkered down and said what I needed to hear.

"Do you want to get better...?"

Yes....








Monday, June 1, 2015

Hello June....

Here is it June.  Only the 2nd or 3rd post of the year.  I wish that I could say that life is wonderful. Life is peachy. Life is all roses.  Actually, life is still hard.  Hard as hell.  But, at the end of the day....I have continued to get up.  Which is what I promised myself and my kids I would do regardless of how hard it is.

The last post in March I had just began seeing a new therapist.  It wasn't going very well.  It wasn't her... instead it was more the reason why I was there. Having any choice in who I saw at this clinic wasn't an option and well...it wasn't going well.

It's been almost 3 months since I first started seeing R.  It hasn't been easy.  Holy hell it hasn't been hard as hell.  I really want to say hard as fuck.  But I've been trying to refrain from using the F word. That doesn't always go very well.

For the first time in 15 years of therapy...something has happened.  Something pretty damn big.  Something that isn't always easy to wrap my head around.

I will try to "talk" about that in my next blog post.