Monthly Archive for March, 2006Page 3 of 6

Very dissociative - Very pissed

Published
by
Austin
on March 17, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, Soapbox and Therapy
. 0 Comments

The cat and the dog are ready for spring so they can get out and do something other than lay around the house sleeping and getting yelled at by me. They’re both restless. Gracie is harness trained so I take her out on that. I don’t let her go loose, that would be stupid.I guess we have a few weeks of this crap left. I’d like for it to be over today! This is bullshit.

I’m irritated by everything right now. I mean everything. I’m not sure if Captain is responding to that or what. He’s acting stupid too. Don’t get me started on Mic, dumb ass. Barney’s home, dumb ass. He didn’t do anything to me I’m just calling him a dumb ass for fun. If I go out there he’ll be in the same jolly mood as always. Nobody wants to see a jolly soul when you feel like shit. The last thing I need is a goddamn smiling face when I’m in a pissy mood.

Yesterday at the med center a friend of mine wanted to know how Mic and I are doing. I played along with the everything’s okay routine. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s a jackass and I don’t see him anymore. I was talking to him on the phone while I was there but it wasn’t a happy occasion. I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s a jackass. I don’t like to be strung along. It’s been over a month since I’ve seen this man. I’ve spoken with him on the phone maybe 3 times this month. Now tell me if it’s not over? Shit, it’s over!

I might end up painting today. I realized that my level of anger is beyond just journaling. I’m going to need to paint and paint big. I think that with yesterday’s news from the doc I’ve fallen into a depression. I don’t plan on being here too long.

 

I want to nip this in the bud right now!

If you look at my eyes I look like I have a hang over. It’s crazy. I also think I fed Captain twice today. I couldn’t remember if I fed him so I went ahead and filled his bowl. Now that I think about it, he had breakfast twice.

Yesterday when I got to the doc my blood pressure was sky high. In 2 weeks I’ve gained 10 pounds. He checked my thyroid through blood tests. I should hear back today for most of the tests. I’m angry. Man am I angry.

Last night we got online and found some interactive colouring books. While we were colouring one of the little ones just threw a fit. I can’t even remember what it was about. We noticed that the dress up dolls all have a provocative stance and provocative clothing. It’s ridiculous how they have them dressed. And the dolls are emaciated. Where the hell are the thick girls? We surfed for new clip art and gif’s. That is usually fun but last night it just added to our pissyness.

With the weight gain thing our first reaction was to starve, starve, starve. We know that isn’t good so we ate dinner anyway. If you don’t eat for awhile then you finally start eating again your body stores everything as fat. You gain weight that way. Starving isn’t going to work, especially when the doc’s thought is that this is medical. I could stop eating but what would I do to myself physically? Would I throw myself into some medical crisis I could have avoided? Probably. Whatever is happening right now might need some good food to assist it in leveling out. I don’t know if that’s gibberish or not but the idea is, not eating can only hurt me. Eating a good meal can only help. I’m going with the good meal thing.

Today’s goals: run the sweeper, hang up yesterday’s laundry, a nice long bath, dinner and a DVD.

deeeeppp breath, I’m good! I’m good! Damnit to hell I’m good. deeeep breaths

Aussie

site

Published
by
Austin
on March 17, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder
. 0 Comments

we found a really fun site where we can colour and dress up dolls. it was fun.

What The Doc Said

Published
by
Austin
on March 16, 2006
in General Chatter and Mental Health
. 0 Comments

Thursday, March 16, 2006
6:59PMI read over the letter to the doc and man does it sound funny. For some of the letter I did a cut and paste then wrote more with it. But the way I worded this in the journal sounds hilarious.

“What ever is happening right now isn’t good. The physical pain I’m in, the inability to concentrate, the frikin night sweats that leave me dripping, I’m so tired I can’t stand it, my hands are freezing, my jaw is clicking, my head has been pounding, my joints are soar and my energy is just zero. It’s been insane. I’ll try to say one word and a different one having no relevance will come out. I’ll try to walk and end up stumbling all over the dang place. My coordination is off. The joints that hurt right now are my knees and my hips.”

When I came in with that list I also brought in with him this main point. I said:
As long as I’ve been to see you I’ve never felt that you just figured all my symptoms were psychosomatic. But since so much is happening at once I wanted to make sure you didn’t go down that road. Heck I’m willing to believe that it’s all in my head but I want to know for sure that its not.

I told him I wanted to be tested for lupus as well as fibro. he did both as well as a protein test and one for my thyroid. I gave him a list of current medication as well as a run down on recent life events. Somehow I got off track of my semi-professional letter and wrote this:
Still a smoker, about a half pack of menthol a day
I don’t drink; sleep is just as fucked up as usual
Increase in coffee intake since I found a way to duplicate Starbucks at home for a fraction of their robbery costs. I no longer need to sell myself to get good coffee.
Thanks doc,
Aussie

He did a bunch of blood tests but told me that Fibro is definitely in the diagnosis. I didn’t feel like he was humoring me when he said he’d run the tests. I like this doc. I’ve seen him for 5 ½ years now. We’re also the same age. He said about my thinning hair: welcome to almost turning 35. He then added that medications could do that as well as a thyroid imbalance. He checked me for that too. I have the needle phobia so of course I was worried about the nurse taking blood. She did really well though. I tell ya, the only thing I felt was her hand touch me.

Cappy and I were there quite awhile. He and I are both beat so we’re going to lay down for a bit. Doc said that my lack of sleep is killing me. Nice! I told him, it’s not that I can’t sleep it’s that I don’t want to sleep. I told him that the nightmares are horrible and I try to put off sleep as much as I can. He seemed lost as to how to respond but then he said, “This is killing you.” Great! My immune system is shot. I knew that already. I can feel it. He didn’t say that I’m dying he said that if I continue to resist sleep that it could cause more health problems some of which could be fatal. I know that when you sleep your body rebuilds itself. I can go 2 to 3 days at a time and not lay down. I have to rethink this whole voluntary-insomnia thing. If I sleep I’m going to dream about my mother. If I don’t sleep I’m going to ruin my body more and cause undue harm to myself. I have to sleep to heal anything at all, including my mind. I need to think of it that way. I’m sleeping for my health. I can be stronger mentally and physically if I sleep. I’ve got to think of it that way.

Aussie

Never Enough For Me

Published
by
Austin
on March 16, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Mental Health
. 0 Comments

Never Enough
Thursday, March 16, 2006
2:27 AMI got up at 2pm, it’s now 2am. In 12 hours I loaded the dishwasher and ran it, did 2 loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, baked bread and made dinner but it feels like I’ve wasted the day. What do I need to do in order to feel like I’ve done something constructive? My goodness gracious! Heck, I went online and did a few things with the groups I’m on, answered some emails and ran some virus protection applications. I did some banking, I talked on the phone only once but somehow it didn’t feel like I did anything at all today.

I’m writing that I did all of this and there is proof that I did it, such as a clean house and clean clothes hanging up but I cant say I remember it first hand.

Tomorrow I see the doc. I’ve printed off the symptoms to bring into him. I packed Cappy’s bag tonight so that in case I wake up late all I need to do is put his jacket on, pick up the bag and go.

I don’t think I had a stressful day. I can’t remember feeling depressed or overly anxious. Right now I’m just ready for bed. I’m looking forward to cuddling with Cappy and Gracie.

After reading this list of things I’ve done today it shows that I’ve done quite a bit. I even took out time to play ball with Cappy. So why does it feel like I wasted the day? I’m not sure what more I could have done to classify this as a productive day.

Last spring and summer in one day I’d complete yard work, laundry, cook a meal, clean a few rooms in the house (kitchen or restroom, etc) and then brush Captain. I was dead tired but it felt good. Tonight I stood on my porch and smoked a square and man do I miss that porch. I can’t wait until it’s warm enough to go out there some more.

I have a morning ritual that kind of keeps me moving for a “reward.” There are two things I do every day, clean the litter box and run the sweeper. I clean the box when I first get up, I feed both the critters and give them fresh water BEFORE my first cig of the day. It means that I get those things done. It probebly sounds crazy that I would have a morning ritual but for me, having something to help me transition from being asleep to being awake is neccessary. I need a transition time for most things. For me, just jumping up and doing something is so out of nature. For me, I need a transition before going to bed, after waking up, before leaving the house to do this or that. I just dont do change very well at all even when it’s something as common as waking up or going to sleep. My night time ritual is to play Bookworm online before I go to sleep. The pup lays beside me and I struggle to see the screen through Gracies fur. Then she starts doing that paw paw kneading thing on my chest. I’m happy that no one can see my own cat feeling me up. That wouldnt be good.

Okay then, I have to hit the sheets. I see Dr. P tomorrow and I need to have half of my head working right.

Austin

OH MY ACHING HEAD

Published
by
Austin
on March 15, 2006
in General Chatter
. 4 Comments

I am sick right now. Migraines out the wazzo. Vomiting, fever, major irritation. I’ll be back to journaling soon.

AUSTIN

Forgiving Myself - Part One of Three

Published
by
Austin
on March 15, 2006
in General Chatter, PTSD, Relationships, Segments and Therapy
. 0 Comments

The subject of forgiveness as it relates to Christianity came up again. But what I want to process out is how I first felt when a therapist told me I needed to forgive myself for the abuse. I was furious when she said that. Of course all the comments came out of me about how could she say the abuse wasn’t my fault then turn around and say I needed to forgive myself. The two did not seem to make since at the time. I’ve had several years to come to the conclusion that she was correct on both points. I decided to map out some of the things that were her fault and some of the things I need to forgive myself for while I attempted to deal with the abusive history.

Side note: There has been recent pressure from well meaning people that I forgive my mother for what she has done. While I appreciate well meaning advice I have to ask that no one send me private email about my Christian duty to forgive my mother. If asking you to stop sending emails is offensive I ask you to forgive me.

old entries on forgiveness can be found by using the search box with the word forgiveness or you can use the links below.

How Forgivness Is Explained As An Abstract Idea

Forgiving myself Part One of Three

Forgiving myself Part Two of Three

Forgiving myself Part Three of Three - Forgiveness Opens and Closes Doors

Forgiving Myself Part One
Monday, March 13, 2006 / 3:36 AM

Forgiving Myself - Part Two of Three

Published
by
Austin
on March 15, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, Segments and Therapy
. 0 Comments

What my mother put her children though was nothing but criminal and hedonistic. The damage she caused is long term and some damage may never heal. The abuse was my mother’s fault and not the fault of my brother and sister or me. But there were some things in my adult life that I did while attempting to dealing with the abuse. The harm I caused myself will take time to heal as well; some self harm may not heal at all.

1) My mother starved me or made me work like a dog for my meals. As an adult I carried the idea that if I didn’t work my butt off then I didn’t deserve to eat. The mother also said that the law required her to feed us but that it didn’t tell her what she had to feed us. What the children ate depended on how hard we worked, physically or sexually. My mother was wrong to use food as a tool for punishment. Food became associated with pain, fear and feelings of worthlessness. All of this affected me in my adult years. There were times I starved myself or times when I didn’t feel I deserved to eat a good meal so I’d purge to punish myself. While my behavior was understandable, I can not blame my mother for the years I chose to vomit and starve. Her abuse certainly affected my food issues she did not put her finger down my throat as I stood over the toilet. One lead to the other but I could have taken a more healthy road. The damage that I caused to my body is nothing compared to the damage to my self esteem.

2) When everything else seems under someone else control the sense of powerlessness drives us to seek ways to take that control back, Even if the methods we use are self destructive they still give us the feeling of power over our lives. I use to control my urine or bowels and got the same sense of control felt when I practiced bulimia. I’d hold it and refuse to go to the restroom until I got good and ready. As an adult I felt the mother was still controlling me because I had nightmares about the abuse, I could feel her on my body when she wasn’t really there, I could see her face in my head and hear her say my name in that famous disappointing tone. I felt like even thought I didn’t live at home she lived in my head. I was grasping at straws to find a way to get away from her. I tried all kinds of things. It’s natural to want to take it back control but I could have found other ways to do it. Holding my urine has caused damage that I can not correct. Bulimia is a constant issue but one that is currently under check.

How does a person find other ways to cope that will lead them to forgiveness? The tools that helped me see my past and current behavior came from working one on one with a therapist. Managing my mental health on my own wasn’t working. When a survivor is left alone with their thoughts the ability to draw reasonable conclusions diminishes significantly. Feedback from a professional who is not attached to my personal pain proved to be a powerful healing tool. Attempting to keep my secrets to myself got me in trouble, it’s how I ended up acting out. I needed to find a way to deal with myself because I knew I wasn’t doing a good job of it. So I went to therapy.

When it was first brought up that I needed to forgive myself I was pissed. I got up and walked out. In my heart I still blamed myself for the abuse but I needed to hide behind the idea that everything was her fault. I didn’t want people to know I blamed myself. I didn’t want anyone to try and change that belief because if that fundamental belief changed then I could no longer justify what happened to me back then. It was easier to say I was bad than to admit that my mother could willingly hurt me. It is more palatable to say the problem is me than to realize that Mama didn’t love me enough to not hurt me. What the therapist was trying to explain was that the abuse IS my mothers fault but as an adult I behaved in harmful ways that I would need to let go and move past. I had to grasp the first concept of responsibility before I could even tackle the second aspect of it. My head was a mess and I just got up and walked out.

After years of therapy (I currently have 16 under my belt) I came to the conclusion that the abuse was wrong and vile and that the responsibility rests on my mothers shoulders and hers alone. I came to understand that as a child I didn’t have the thinking ability to deal with my mother’s abuse. A young adult when I purged or held my urine I still didn’t have the proper skills to deal with my emotions. Through therapy I processed the emotions and found real coping skills. I now realize that binging, purging, holding my elimination processes as well as other negative behaviors are all the responsibility of one person: me. (I still struggle with self-mutilation to an extent. I haven’t totally let that one go yet.) Forgiving myself only took place when I was given the tools to do so. You never find good coping skills at a bar, on the shelf of a liquor store, in someone’s bed or with any other masking behavior. People without good coping skills tend to mask pain with actions that cause more pain. I was doing that.

No survivor can survive alone. We need someone trained to deal with abuse issues to help us process the past and plan for the future. It is possible that without good help I might still be contained by the false idea that my mother’s abusive behaviors were my fault. I was pissed when the therapist told me I needed to forgive myself but even more so, I was in pain and needed to find a way to manage it. I went back. I’m happy I did.

Part Three: Forgiveness Opens and Closes Doors
Part three is in response to the emails I’ve been getting about not forgiving my mother.

old entries on forgiveness can be found by using the search box with the word forgiveness or you can use the links below.

How Forgivness Is Explained As An Abstract Idea

Forgiving myself Part One of Three

Forgiving myself Part Two of Three

Forgiving myself Part Three of Three - Forgiveness Opens and Closes Doors

 

Forgiving Myself Part Two
March 14, 2006 / 4:40 PM

Forgiveness Opens And Closes Doors (Part 3 of 3)

Published
by
Austin
on March 15, 2006
in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health, PTSD, Segments and Therapy
. 1 Comment

Denying forgiveness builds walls but extending mercy tears them down. When I offer forgiveness I clear the way for advancement in my relationships. When I withhold it I set up a boundary to protect myself from repeated and reckless behaviors. If I keep offering forgiveness to repeat offenders I then have to take personal responsibility for my part in letting them hurt me. It is my belief that extending compassion to my mother who is habitually without compassion and mercy would also extend to her yet another chance to hurt me. Not forgiving her helps me keep my guard up (a boundary between me and her) so that she can not hurt me again.As I said, there has been pressure from others to forgive my mother. The block that stands between forgiving her is that I fear she will hurt me again. I am not sure I’m mentally strong enough to fight her off. I worry that I will not survive another assault. The last time she tried I was 24 years old. It was over the phone that she asked me for sex. I hung up. I have the right to protect myself from her and if that means not forgiving her then so be it. I will not take the chance of being hurt again when I question whether or not I could recover from it. Is it reasonable to offer her forgiveness while being uncertain of the outcome?

While I appreciate well meaning advice I have to ask that people stop sending private mail telling me about how it’s my duty as a Christian to forgive my mother. I wonder why you are so determined to have me forgive her and I ask myself, what’s in it for you? Will it make you feel like a good Christian if I forgive my mother? Why are you so invested in my road to recovery but even more why do you believe I want to hear your advice? You are testing the limits of my patients. Therefore I ask all of you to stop sending me private mail concerning the subject of forgiving the mother. If this offends you please forgive me.

Joan of Arc inside

Morton’s Pride

old entries on forgiveness can be found by using the search box with the word forgiveness or you can use the links below.

How Forgivness Is Explained As An Abstract Idea

Forgiving myself Part One of Three

Forgiving myself Part Two of Three

Forgiving myself Part Three of Three - Forgiveness Opens and Closes Doors

 

Part Three: Forgiving Myself
Forgiveness Opens or Closes Doors
March 14, 2006 / 6:25 PM

Woe is Who??

Published
by
Austin
on March 13, 2006
in General Chatter
. 0 Comments
i’m worried that when spring rolls around i wont be able to do what i did in the yard last year. i wont be able to take care of it as much as i did, not with the pain i’m in. I see the doc on the 16th about it. I hope there is something he can give me for pain. he said that I should stop moving around when it starts to hurt. he said the joint is damaged beyond repair and that if i keep moving around i’ll grinde it down further faster.
I was with UK the other day because we were looking at the seeds we planted. Her husband walked in and within minutes he was yelling at her. I went outside to have a square and remove myself so that she wouldnt feel too emberassed as he humiliated her. When I came back in she was in the kitchen and he was sitting on the sofa watching some movie. I said to him, “so, how are you doing?” He said, “I’ve been better.” I thought to myself, “when?” …This man is never, ever, ever happy. He could find a flaw in a perfect snowflake. it didnt fall right, its shape wasn’t correct, it wasn’t pure white because of the mysterious yellow stain…etc, etc. This man is never happy. He told her she was stupid, worthless and good for nothing. He doesnt realize what he has. He has a woman that loves his kids without limits. He has someone that can hold a good conversation, someone that is driven to improve her life and that of her family, she takes care of the yard, cooks, cleans, does laundry, makes the student teacher meetings alone, works part-time and lives with lupus. But hey, she’s worthless! Sure! He just doesnt get it. He doesnt understand what he has in front of him.
I also have chronic pain (as it seems) but at the moment I feel like I have nothing and that I’m going to end up worthless. How can I feel worthless knowing full well that I cook, clean, take care of my furry family and take part in the lives of my friends. For a moment I forgot what is before me. For a moment I ignored all the good things in my life so I could lament about possibly not being able to do a lot of yard work this spring. I’ve been thinking about this stupid yard for weeks now. Oh, how am I going to do the yard. What’s going to happen when I can’t get out there and do this or that? Note to self: Please Austin, shut up already. You’ve had your dang pity party now move the fuck on!
I dont have the problem of chronic unhappiness like some people that I know. so why did i forget for a moment that for me, not working in the yard is a minor, very minor loss. and how do I even know for sure that I wont be able to? The point is, we all fall from time to time into self pity. We forget what is really important and focus on the insignificant things. If need be, I can have a make shift garden in one of the rooms in the house. I can set up tables by the huge window so that I dont have to bend and what not. I have options here. I have to remember that. I also have to let myself fall so that when I look up I can see all I’m missing while my cry baby ass is on the floor talkin’ about woe is me.

Note to self: Stand Up!

Joan of Arc inside
Morton’s Pride

Show Me Yours

Published
by
Austin
on March 12, 2006
in General Chatter
. 0 Comments

Another wasted day. I haven't done a dag on thing. I mean nothin'. I've got dinner in the oven and I've got some sewing to do. I had a rather unpleasant flashing experience because my pants fell to the floor. I have to get some new clothes cause I may need to be bailed out of jail for public indecency. The good thing is I was at home and the shirt I had on was really long so he saw nothing. This happened when Slave Girl was here too. Losing weight is good when you can afford to buy new clothes. Gaining weight is bad all around but throw in the financial aspect of it and you add insult to injury. So, instead of screwing around doing nothing I need to get in here and take my pants up some. I don’t want to give this man any ideas. It would be so sad if I had to hurt his skinny ass for acting stupid if my pants fall again. This happened the other day but I’ve discussed with many wives about how their husbands feel sooo very comfortable running around "free." I don’t understand it. When my pants fell I chalked it up to other instances of me flashing people. Oh heck, I was outside of a very busy building and my pants hit the ground. Not good. That's nothing though, my mother was walking with a group at her office and her slip fell to the floor. She stopped, picked it up, folded it and put it in her purse. Later her boyfriend (the only one she had when I was young) he asked her if he saw what he thought he saw. She said yes and added nothing else. See, my family doesn’t intentionally walk around "free" it just sorta happens. But with men they just seem to skip the "oops" phase of flashing and go straight to "hey, I'm out here!" That thing flopping around, wondering why he's out sight seeing with no jacket. My thought is this, I'm known for spilling stuff on myself, hot and cold stuff. Don’t they worry about being scalded or frozen? Don’t they worry about it getting caught in a door or something? They'd be there caught in that door for hours because when you shut one of those in a door they can't scream. Even if they passed out they couldn’t fall down because their stuck-in-the-door-member would hold them up.On to other things, I always eat in bed and I always fall asleep while eating in bed. It's common to find half eaten food in the bed when I wake up. What is not common is the jelly I found in my left eyebrow this morning. I should take my fully clothed, jelly filled eyebrow to the beef stew I have waiting for me then sew these pants.

Later,
Joan of Arc