Content : Suicide discussion. Physical updates. Flashbacks of abuse. Abuse.
The nurse will be here tomorrow. I've fallen 3x in a week so things are a bit messy right now.
I've been told I pushed too hard, tried to do too much.
I'll see Dr D tomorrow as well. He is concerned about what he calls hallucinations and what I refer to as body memories. This is the second time he's asked if I'm suicidal and the second time I've told him no. The more suicides I hear about the further away from a possibility it is for me. George Foreman's daughter and 3 survivors of school shootings recently took their lives! It hurts and reminds me of my brother's suicide. How could I make the decision to kill myself, knowing what I now know? Years ago it was an option but not now. Not now.
During flashbacks I smell blood and urine. I can feel her hitting me. I can smell her parfume. My stomach cramps and I vomit.
I'm feeling a bit down right now. A little lonely, too.
I should mention, I like my new CNA a lot. She's on time, works and drinks tea with me in the morning. The funny thing is, there are a few teas that are just for me. I don't share them. I finally got tea in the mail from Uganda. It's awesome and just mine. I have Japanese Orchid tea that is exclusive as well. Most teas I'll readily share but some are saved just for me.
We talked about the dream I had where my mother beat my sister without mercy. It was brutal. She did so in a separate room from me, my cousin and 2 aunts. It was so bad and went on so long that I risked myself by knocking on the door to interrupt it. It worked and she stopped.
After the mother and sister emerged the cousin told my mother that I had made negative comments about her. I denied it. The mother took me in the room behind closed doors where she questioned me under threat. I swore I didn't say it. She believed me and let me go unharmed.
When we left the room the cousin admitted she lied. Everyone flipped out and yelled at her, why, why, why? She said that what my mother did to my sister was wrong but that my sister shouldn't have to do it alone. She said if I was beaten too then there would be an equalizing. My sister and I would be on even ground, sharing an experience. She said that it wouldn't be that one sibling witnessed the humiliation of another but that both would know and so one wouldn't be in a higher position than the other.
The dream was interesting to say the least because it touched on how it feels to watch a sibling abused and what it feels like to have your abuse witnessed. Someone saw the emotional and physical impact it had and that in itself is abuse and traumatic, to have someone see you like that. It also touched on the trauma of watching the horror show helplessly.
In the dream we were all at the mercy of the mother. The answer to making sure my sister and I were emotionally connected was for me to be beaten. Never did anyone step in and say, "You can't beat them this way" or "What you're doing is wrong and we aren't going to allow it." No, the answer was to beat me so that neither one of us was alone. One would be alone in that she watched the abuse. The other alone in that she experienced the abuse.
Dr. D and I discussed how my mother rarely went off the rails and just started beating us. She was more focused. She beat the palms of our hands, our feet with a dowel rod quite often. She beat our lips with a wide tooth comb. Rarely did she slap us in the face. When beating us with the dowel rod while laying down it was focused on our back area: legs, butt, back. There were times we got punched in the face but it was rare. My mother's rage was focused on areas of high pain, with an item she said she used because it hurt.
Robert spoke to Dr. D today. I can't say it was a good session at all. Robert is still very protective of us after the suicide issues with the CNA. Dr. D asked why we didn't report the CNA sooner than we did. He then said, "You usually protect yourselves so well." Robert reminded him that the CNA his the 'mother cord' with her suicide threats. We felt responsible! We felt guilty! We felt small and like we were in fight or flight. When it got bad it got bad quickly and we were in fight or flight. Why didn't I tell? Well dang it.....(sigh) what kind of question is that? Listen, I have mother issues and this girl played right into them. I'd even look her in the face each morning to see what kind of mood she was in to see what type of day we would have, just like my mother. If she cried then I cried with her. If she (the CNA and my mother) wanted to laugh then we laughed. I did exactly what I would have done had I been in the presence of my mother because I still have mother issues. She's the only person in the world who could make my knees shake. I told on the CNA when I could, period!!!!!!!!!!!
Dr. D and I talked about hallucinations recently. I've been smelling blood and urine even though its not there. There's been a bit of depersonalization as well.
You know what? I'm not strong enough. I'm just one person and I've been through a lot lately. I've had so little time to recharge from the hospitalization, the amputation and the new life I'm leading. There's been so little time to get firmly rooted, then for the whole suicide thing to pop up and her behavior to mimic that of my mother is just too much. So yeah, things are messed up right now. My head is messed up right now.
I'm trying to manage in my head that this all is not my fault. It only takes someone to hint that it is and my head gets all messed up. Right now it doesn't matter to me why I worry stuff is my fault, I'm just trying to say that it feels really bad to be thought of as a problem. So, I'm struggling with that right now.
To help matters, I got a call from the CNA company concerning the issues with CNA 1 and 2 as well as the chicken salad situation. They took responsibility for it and said they realized I was having a rough patch with cna's right now. It was helpful to hear from a supervisor that the company realizes the problem isn't me but the individuals being sent.
I talked to my CICOA representative who also said its the poor quality of individuals being hired that's the problem, not me. She shook her head in disbelief at the details surrounding the CNA and the suicide threats here.
I try to be "good" because being labeled "bad" hurts too much. I was always told I'm bad and trouble, a burden. Everything was my fault. It was as if I had the power to destroy the world in one mistake. I didn't know when I'd destroy lives but I was told I was and could make people unhappy. I was a horrible person, destroying everything I touched, ruining innocent people.
There was a time I found out that a friend had cancer. I didn't want to be around her for fear I'd somehow make her sicker. Forget that she was stage 4 skin cancer, it felt like my badness had somehow made her sick! That's when I knew I had to work on my perception of my badness. I mean, that's a lot of power, to sicken someone clear across the country!!! How did I get this super power to destroy lives since very young? I am not the devil. I don't ruin and destroy everything I touch. It was yet another lie I was told, brainwashing and emotional abuse.
Today I'm trying to toss out the idea that I am bad and that I ruin lives and opportunities, that everything is my fault and nothing good can stay with someone so bad and undeserving. These thoughts are not welcome and I'm not accepting them today. What I'm going to do is get up and work on a project that I know I can complete successfully. This will boost my spirits and confidence and help put my mind on a healthier track. Forget all I was told by my sadistic mother. Those thoughts and memories are not welcome. I'm powerful enough to push them away. Robert
I've processed this out in my head a bit because when it happened it got under my skin.
Yesterday one of the CNAs said several times, the reason she didn't work out here is because I'm "not used to working with adults" and she's used to "working with a different clientele." She said she doesn't like the clientele this particular company assigns her. Even now as I write it I'm like, really, a different clientele?
When she talked down to me that way, it fed into my issues. Her words stung deeper than they should have. My head heard her say that I'm not mature and that I can only relate to children, not adults. I can't hold an adult relationship.
I just said in another entry that my own mother couldn't hold an adult relationship if tried.
So the question I asked myself is this, can I hold adult relationships? Yes. I can and do. I had to counter the inner message that I'm broken, a broken child. To do so, I began to list my relationships.
I hold healthy and simi-healthy adult relationships. I have many friends that I see on a regular basis. I'm closer with some than others. I have a range of friendships from close inner circle to casual friends. I have friends from the internet as well as acquaintances from the internet, all adult relationships. So the answer is yes.
The CNA may not have even meant that I can't hold adult relationships. But talking down to me triggered my issues, issues my brain struggled to untangle.
When stuff like this comes up, I can either swallow it down or process it and move forward. I choose to move forward.
My neighbor has Schizophrenia. A different neighbor says it's not a mental illness but that he has demons. She inaccurately applied Scripture, which I quickly corrected, but its still on my mind and still bothers me.
She has no idea what comments like that do to a person with a mental illness. Though I corrected her, its not my job nor is it my desire to be the grand educator. I don't want to sit down the ignorant and set them straight, I just want to fight my battle without their words spinning in my universe.
When she said he has demons I thought to myself, she should never find out that I have Multiple Personality Disorder! That for sure would make her think I have Legions of demons in me.
When younger my mother used to tell me that my demons were upsetting her. My mother knew I had DID when I was at least a young teenager. She knew Morton by name and called him a demon. She said I'm possessed because of being a bad person. That too has stayed with me. I fight with the thought, that I'm a bad person, but I no longer fight the fear of having demons. My mother's reason for saying it wasn't ignorant beliefs it was cruelty and abuse. My sister knew I had others, too. She used to call out a young one to play. I don't know if she still remembers that or not.
You know, I got to thinking, mental illness isn't for the weak or ignorant. A person with a mental illness has to be one of the strongest people around because we have to fight tooth and nail just to keep our head above water. Then you add life events with it and you've got yourself one serious storm. We are not weak for having a mental illness, not even close.
The drawings included were created in the last few days as a way to survive myself.
I've been finishing work in my books. I set a goal this year to finish work I started but there was an interruption that put me behind. I decided after I got out of the hospital to pick up where I left off with finishing work. Here is one of the key pieces I wanted to work on. It's a story line about my aunt's life and the affect she had on mine.
I understand that my biological response to many things is still as if my body is fighting like when I was abused or when I was having medical trauma from a young age. My adrenal system fights so hard, as if it has to, still. All that adrenaline causes anxiety because I'm still trying to run despite there being no where to run. I feel trapped in my anxiety.
I sometimes respond strong emotionally when I don't mean to.
Right now I'm feeling very stressed by things: stressed about the CNA situation and about not having frogs. I know it sounds so insane that I'd be stressed without frogs but I'm stressed without something to care for, fuss over and love. There's nothing here to love! ...continue reading "Anxiety and Fight or Flight"
I am not one who can handle a lot of physical stimulation. I didn't want to be touched. Movement and sound scare me. However, in a vulnerable state I have had to allow things to happen even if I didn't think I could handle it.
Since being at the hospital I've allowed people who resemble my abusers to give intimate care. I've allowed African American men and women to remove the gown, adjust my legs as needed then wipe my intimate parts in front and back. I have had full bed baths and depends changed or had procedures that required mostly nudity. I had to allow it.
From where I'm laying, I generally can't see the entire person, and I can't get up. I am vulnerable and require their clean intentions. Not a single inappropriate comment has taken place. They have been respectful and put me at ease.
At one point a Doctor was asked to wait 2 min while the Techs finished my gown because credentials don't buy rights to my dignity either. I appreciated him waiting.
I was terrified at first. Someone had their hands between my legs, spread them, and I had to allow it. I was angry. I didn't sleep a lot. But as the positive, safe experiences continued, confidence grew, with unexpected healing as a result.
Dr. D and I discussed a situation with my sister that came up that required I stick to my boundaries, as hard as it is to do.
Despite my mother having gainful employment, we spent a lot of time living in the car. I have slept with frost over me, slept on the wet street and in the sweltering night. Homelessness for me is a huge trigger. It makes me recoil, makes my mind want to run and never think about the horrors of it, the way it strips you of dignity and humanity. The way people hate you, judge you and look down on you. Routine homelessness in my childhood and young adult life with my mother, has left a scar that opens into a wound during the winter time.
When I'm cold I can't breathe because I can see myself lying under a blanket in a broken down RV with no electricity, no water, no heat, no lock on the door. I could see my own breath, see the frost build up on my blanket and hear my sister cry curled up beside me. We were so close to one another I couldn't breathe. There with us should have been my teddy bear, the last possession I owned, but it was lost in the car we'd slept in that ended up being stolen. Homelessness is a horrible trauma I wish on no one at all, so why have I refuse to offer my home to my sister in need? ...continue reading "Therapy Review: Hard Choices and Boundaries with Family"
I've thought a lot of my mother lately. In therapy Friday afternoon we talked about traveling, the orchestra, theater, opera and all the cultural things she loved. It's a strange contrast between the tyrant and the artist but there was in fact a contrast, one I loved. I recall my mother singing around the house. I knew when she sang it would be a safe day. For some reason when she sang all the vile went away.
One of my mother's favorite animals is the African Elephant which is why I purchased a notebook with one on the cover. I also liked the quote which says: Colors speak louder than words.
The loss is incredible.
Grant mercy please.
She left deep wounds, many questions, but no answers. I have to find resolution in wreckage.
In the notebook I've written letters to my mother, some kind, others telling her exactly how I felt living with her. These letters and drawings are just another step in healing from the war god I called mother. ...continue reading "Mother’s and Grey Elephants"