Dr. D wanted me to think about the dream from May 22, 2017 that we discussed in our session. I went back and highlighted words for us to discuss in our next session. This dream brought up quite a bit.
In the dream I got off an elevator and walked down the hallway to my apartment. As I did I saw a man leaving my apartment with a big box. He'd robbed me. He didn't try to hide his face. He left the door open. The thief took my cat Mary Jane. He took every piece of art I have including off the walls. He took all the stamps I handmade and my tea collection. When I saw that all my art was gone I laid on the bed and cried. He stole my blankets and pillows and left the bed with just a red sheet. He took everything, and got away with it.
Dr. D asked what I think the dream means. I told him it's exactly how I feel right now, robbed and at times powerless. The red sheets are interesting though. It's a power color, primarily positive for me. Even when a person is stripped and knocked down it doesn't mean they are without hope. However, in the dream, I was devastated and felt targeted. The man stole all my art. That hurt so badly. By stealing my art, he stole my voice. The theft felt personal. The brazen, unmasked robber took my comfort and security and he got away with it. (cue mother issues).
Writing about victimization makes me wonder if I feel like a victim in my day-to-day life or powerless? Do I feel exposed, without security? ...continue reading →
Content: Physical pain. Physical torture as a child. Mother and uncle standing in the doorway. Being watched as I shower. Reassuring myself that I'm safe. Robert's session.
When my pain level gets really high I get confused about why I'm in pain. When my eye lids hurt, when it hurts to talk, when I struggle to breathe I forget it Lupus or CRSD. I forget I have a medical condition and feel trapped in the past. Yesterday I lay in bed, just on the sheet, the fan was blowing over me. I had my face buried in the pillow when I became flushed with dread. I expected to look at the door and see my mother standing there. I fully expected her face to become clearer, for her to fill the doorway. I pulled the covers over me and felt more protected. I had to tell myself she can't ever again stand in my doorway. I slept with uneasiness and woke feeling bogged down.
Dr. D asked the question: Can your mother come to your house and get in? Me: No. Dr. D: Can she get in and stand in your doorway? Me. No. Dr. D. Can she ever hurt you again? Me: No.
It's what she left me with that haunts me. I feel her hand from the grave touch my skin and make it crawl. I see her in my head but I try to talk to myself and remind myself that I truly am safe. As far as living family members, as long as I have a cat, no one is coming here.
This spring I was to decide if I could manage a dog which would help me sleep better but I am not able, sadly, I am not able. ...continue reading →
I haven't been to too many blogs lately, not many at all. I'm not in a good spot, easily depressed, easily triggered. I feel like I'm tightening my grip, bringing in the walls around me a little closer so as not to get too overwhelmed. I feel like a fake for smiling and laughing. I'm not a fake, it's just that there are several of us. I feel like a total boob for switching personalities left and right and forgetting to answer the door for a friend. She knocked, I peeked out the hole, looked at her and walked away. It was as if it didn't click that I should let her in. She called me to tell me she was at the door...still.
I can get through this patch.
I'm not even sure if I'm making sense.
Dissociation and anxiety will get worse as the 18th draws near. That's when the apartment manager is coming to do a semi annual cleaning inspection. I don't want to see the woman. I wish I could have someone here with me but I don't have anyone available that day. I will maybe try to have someone on the phone with me when they first get here. I need Jordan to do deal with the manager, just Jordan. ...continue reading →
Heartbeat is in my sketchbook. She's 7 x 10 in ink and pencil. I'm going to have her enlarged before further work. Her heartbeat comes from her temples and stretches out to form the surface of the earth. Trees and flowers grow from her heartbeat.
She Realizes Her Totality
This is a half sheet pencil drawing with the same lines at the temples only the heartbeat lines go down and the face is divided. This piece is in my private sketchbook. I want a little bit of color on her but I don't want to do her in full color. I want it to be watercolor and to get it right I'm going to have to practice which means getting her printed so I can practice on something other than the original drawing.
The dream where I was found guilty of neglecting my child self as well as not protecting my siblings still haunts me. I go back and forth about my sister, one minute managing okay and the next minute standing still in a locked stare. I've sketched, painted, cleaned, eaten and slept feeling vulnerable and strong enough for that vulnerability. What was before the feeling of 'strong enough' can only be described at chaotic, second to second existence.
I have been in patient psych over 150 times since 1992. Two hospitals are designed to treat dissociative disorders, one was a state hospital in Kentucky and the others were short-term stays in across Indiana, Texas, Michigan and Kentucky. Early on I was in a group home and then bounced around from apartment to apartment in an unstable existence. I had zero control over my personality disorder, zero coping skills to help with self harm of cutting and abuse of food. For the first ten years or so of therapy I was clueless about caring for myself physically or emotionally.
I was nervous, again. Dr. D said it's normal for a person to feel some anxiety when going to a session, even when they've been in treatment a long time. We talked about the Passion Flower tincture I made and how effective it is. I keep forgetting to take it though. I still scribble to ease anxiety.
We talked about the two dreams and what I think they might mean. I told him that the dream where I was on the outside of the car while my mother and sister were inside reminds me of how I usually felt like an outsider in that family. I hated them for what they did and said. I hated secrets, most of all I didn't keep to the rules of Master and servant the way my sister did. After paying severely for running my mouth one would think I'd learn to keep it closed but nope. Sometimes I was annoyed or out right disgusted by their pretense and let it show on my face or I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh please!" I paid for it. I understand that death in dreams isn't always negative. In this case we all three died after recklessness by my mother. Recently the 'death' of hope that my sister and I will ever be anything other than relatives has settled in. That death means life without hoping in ghosts.
He saw my frustration lead to growling and hitting myself in the head. It happened so fast and resulted in embarrassment. He didn't say a word. He acted like nothing happened.
I kept trying to talk to the man who watched me hit myself in the head then switch personalities back to an older version of me. I watched this take place as if I were hovering above myself just a little bit. I wanted to talk to him and try to understand. I wanted to hear his words as more than gibberish but it wasn't working, they stopped 5 inches from my face. I looked at him through fog and then started rocking. It took quite a bit to get grounded enough to understand what he was saying. It's just not been a good head day.
I'm going to take some Passion Flower tincture and go to sleep. My tincture turned out really well.
I brushed Jane. I didn't eat. I answered the phone twice but other than that I just didn't want contact with anyone.
I was talking on the phone to a friend in Punjab who thought it was absolutely hilarious and absurd that Jehovah's Witnesses are labeled extremists in Russia. He's not a witness but he too can see that this is simply absurd. No, we don't slap people with Watchtowers!
I made hot chocolate. I found the good kind at Kroger. I'm going to get more. I see Snow Thursday and Friday.
I'm overwhelmed by bills right now. It's funny because I don't have bills, that's something others have but now I've got bills and I feel the weight of them on my shoulders. What's interesting is that it's around $150 but it's in 4 different locations which feels like a lot to a person who takes great care to live within her means. ...continue reading →
Snow came on Friday as scheduled but we ended up talking for the first 45 min. I tried to tell her that Robert can be pushed to a physical altercation or a good cursing out. I tried to put that mildly. I didn't want to come right out and say that one of me will come out swinging if emotionally battered. Don't physically back him into a corner like Betty did and don't stand in his face yelling about how horrible of a person we are and then start calling me all sorts of horrible things. There is an alter that integrated that handled physical safety and that could withstand verbal abuse but that alter integrated. That alter's way of managing difficult people isn't like Robert.
So who is Robert? He's a wounded wolf. I say he's a wounded wolf because he use to howl in my head. He was in so much emotional pain that he'd howl from the gut. It's an unforgettable sound. He took the most painful physical abuse from the mother. He didn't use to come out, he was always deep inside. He used to be so terrible to us, mean, abusive, scary, but Robert has grown from that wounded wolf pup to a 19 year individual capable of assisting us in running this household.
We talked over the phone and tears streamed down my face. As I reached for a Kleenex a flash of a woman who had tears like flowers, flashed in my mind. She had no color. I couldn't even see her lips or nose, just a thin black line in the shape of her eyes with daisy flowers pouring out and falling down her face.
I was trying to get myself together and hear him tell me it was a dream and it can't hurt me. I said, my choices were bad. I could choose one bad or the other but no matter what I was going to end up with bad. He said, you're right. I said, I need to remember that I'm 45 years old. I have my own home. I have boundaries and I do not ever have to be in a situation where I feel like her child again. He said, you're right.
I'm ok. I can flip a switch in my head and turn her off. This is my head and the only voices I need to hear are those I want to hear. I have good choices now and I'm ok. It was a dream and dreams can not hurt me. I can turn off her voice with the flip of a switch. ...continue reading →