What happens if my neighbors find this blog and find out I have DID? Will they be afraid, distant, not willing to stand and chat with me outside and laugh about silly things? Will they grow distant? Like the nurses I’d have to look them in the eye knowing they know what happened. It’s so much different when someone reads your truth but you never have to look them in the eye. But to see them and know they know, that’s difficult. Supervisor Rachet said she knows I like things in threes. I was like, what the heck? How did you know that? Do you know how far back in the blog that is? I’m like dang, do they know my entire story? I wanted a place for my voice but right now it seems more threatening to have a blog than helpful…yet I write. Continue reading ‘The Pied Piper’
Archive for the 'Dissociative Identity Disorder' Category
I don’t know. I’m okay I guess. A bit overwhelmed, but okay.
I met with the doctor that I didn’t want to see. It turns out there was 100% miscommunication on both sides. This lack of communication and erroneous information resulted in a patient with PTSD seeing the doctor as a cruel woman with ice in her veins. I resented her for walking out of the house leaving me in that kind of pain. Even before I asked for a 2 week script with no refills the appointment felt cold. She was cold, unfeeling and flatline. She was mechanical and distant. I thought she’d become callous over the years and that her oath to help had been broken. It turns out this may not be the case.
First off, I went to bed early and feel like I’ve slept a year, literally. But……that’s not the dream.
The dream started with me getting out of bed to find the house in terrible disarray. As I looked around I noticed my bedroom wasn’t just in disarray it was filthy. I stepped over things to get out of the bedroom door. The rest of the house wasn’t much better.
My mother and sister were behaving strangely. I’d ask a question and they’d give a joke as an answer then do a clown dance. I asked if we were moving, they said no. As the dream progressed the mother and sister’s belongings were boxed up. By that time I was irritated because I knew they were lying to me. I wanted her to look me in the face and tell me we were moving again and tell me why. She just kept making jokes and wrestle playing with my sister. It was carnival mockery.
I brought in the painting called Emerson for Dr. D to see. We talked about that for a little bit and discussed some of the art in my art therapy book.
We then talked about how several times over the last week or so I woke to find the front door unlocked. The first thing I said to him was, it started before Mikey got here. I haven’t gotten up in the middle of the night to take him out then left the door open. This started happening before he got here.
It’s been in my prayers to remember when Tuesday arrives. I’ve got a friend who will call me and let me know that it’s Tuesday. It can’t get past me.
You know, I hate this. I hate not remembering what day it is and having such a hard time with time. I hate it.
I’m almost afraid to go to sleep but if I don’t I’ll be so tired I can’t stand it then I may miss it anyway. I just need to be here, present at 9 pm. I only need one hour of clarity. I need one hour of manageable pain. It hurts to stand. It hurts to sit and lie down. It just hurts, but from 9pm to 10pm I just need to be able to handle the pain. I need one hour where my head is where it should be, where I don’t have to struggle to hear the person next to me speak. I need an hour where I’m not rocking back and forth. I need one hour without Lupus, Fibromyalgia or Multiple Personality Disorder. I just need an hour.
Saturday March 9th, 2013
Well, I got moved in. All I can say is it was a typical hectic move but everything I need got moved and I’m in my new home. I like my new home.
I’m tired, still seeing the nurses and things. I’ve got a new home health aide that I hope works out. She appears to have an attitude but looks may be deceiving I may just be having issues with her being a girl but…….I’m kinda skeptical about this one…..only I hope she works out. I hope she does cause I’ll need the help, more than I act like it, I need the help.
I just started back seeing Dr. D again after the move. I didn’t see him for a full week either.
Sunday March 10th, 2013
I went to my first funeral at this congregation that I’ve been attending for a year now. It’s hard to even look at her photo. I only knew her a year but it hurts to have lost her. Continue reading ‘Home in 2013′
I came home from my therapist’s office hoping to see a message from the doctor approving my request but there was no message. It seems cruel to deny it. The doctor that denied my request isn’t my regular doctor. I need to contact my regular person. What I have asked is reasonable. To leave me this way is unreasonable.
Dr. D and I discussed how some of the alters are unable to distinguish this pain from the pain of abuse. Pain is pain. What we feel right now forces dissociation. Maybe it doesn’t force it but I notice that I’m running in my head, looking for a place to hide. That only makes sense to a multiple I suppose but that’s what I’m doing, I’m deep in my head looking for a place to hide from the torture of living. Continue reading ‘PTSD and Fibromyalgia’