Category: Multiple Personality Disorder

Paranoia, Fear, OCD and Art

Posted on by F.Magdalene

My caregivers take me in the community regularly. They assume their presence is enough to keep me calm and feeling safe and grounded. I’d say the statement is 75% true. My anxiety after being stalked has risen. It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a game. It was a lot longer than a year! And it was violent and intense! I’m happy to be safe now.

I’m not paranoid in my new home any more than I’ve ever been paranoid. I don’t think being stalked changed that level. I’m back to my old fears, obsessions and compulsions in the new place. Like always I’ve kicked into my coping skills.

Reality check – Can I validate my fears? Are they in the realm of possibility?

Grounding. Remind myself of who I am and that I’m safe. My name is XYZ. I’m X yrs old. I’m safe now! I have an friends, an apartment and most of all a future!

Stimulation / Distraction. It’s time to switch the channels. I have a small vile with me that has the tiniest little bit of lavender in it. It’s my on the run aromatherapy. I also carry a small scratch pad to sketch in because art works for me. Earthing, sitting by the fan or just going outside can help eleviate stress and get it back down to a manageable level.

I would not normally suggest using a tablet at the table in a restaurant but I do it regularly now. I’ve done it in line at Ross because the line was long. The new Five Bellow needs to open more registers but this entry isn’t about that LOL. I sketch at any time, any place in order to control the anxiety, especially if I’ve already tried lavender.

Usually by this time the CNA has picked up on my sketching and starts to ask questions. She kicks into CNA mode and we move to the side for just a bit.

There are times when I can catch my breath and we can proceed but other times I just want to go home. In the car my pen moves like crazy.

OCD Getting all my teeth pulled was the single best thing I could have done. The tooth brush was simply too much.

Bidet. Yeah, should have done this a long time ago, too. It’s difficult to use the restroom. Difficult to clean up especially if there are issues.

The disorder is not fun. I’m trying to manage. I see the new psychiatrist August. That feels like… is... forever.

Faith Magdalene

Project Reflections

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I clearly remember the first and last brush strokes of the painting, More Than A Clown.. They were equally moving.

By the time I got the features together I remember the feeling this project was huge, different, emotionally powerful.

I was going to to have to tell a story in color, on her face. A story of someone not taken seriously, not listened to , unseen by people who refused to see. I was going to paint it all; including the parts where they laughed thinking they’d won.

The last expression would be through her hair. Red, blue and purple flames licked the sky all around. The flames licked but did not scorch in the garden where she stood. The name of the garden is Hope. As it is said, “You only start a garden if you hope to see it grow.”

The young woman knows she holds hope in her hands…. and sunflower seeds. I knew I’d have to paint all my that. And I I did. I know it’s a deep piece but ha! it’s her truth and mine.

Live Free. Create Well.

Faith Magdalene’s Sundrip

They Call Me Ladybug

Posted on by F.Magdalene

Somehow, at age 54 I’ve picked up a new nickname, Ladybug.

Two of my caregivers who don’t know one another call me Ladybug.

It’s the strangest thing.

My younger parts like it.

We don’t draw or paint them. This is one of the first we’ve done. It makes me want to go read about them.

I like bugs quite a bit.

Faith Magdalene

Or Me

Posted on by F.Magdalene

Bumbling and fumbling words rolling my tongue like a gutter ball on the side of this well worn lane. I am a fool now. Ignored. Unseen, laughed at when seen. I am a fool; not your fool.

Faith

Today’s Endurance

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I screamed myself awake, and possibly my neighbors, around 6 this morning. I don’t exactly remember the dream. I just remember it was horrible and I was terrified. I was kicking and screaming. But I didn’t catch it on camera because my camera wasn’t set up. I hate that.

I wish I had caught that on camera so I can see what I was doing before and what I was doing after. I would like to have seen Joe’s reaction. After much struggling I finally had the camera set up so we’ll see how tonight goes.

Today has been really difficult. I have been scattered brained. I’ve messed up just about everything I’ve touched; everything I touched broke today so I’m pretty annoyed.

It’s just one of those days so I decided to list things that are good in my life. I listed five things that are blessings in my life because if not then it was just going to be an overwhelming day of sadness that seemed all for nothing. So I did, I came up with five things. I’m happy I was able to pause and go , okay listen, endurance is for a reason. It’s not to see who can suffer a long time, endurance has a purpose for the issues. That purpose is what I’m fighting for.

Here is a plant corner in my studio apartment that I enjoy.

Joe has been put on a different food by the vet. He’s been taken off his meds and he’s doing very well. His skin looks sooo much better. The boy’s actually kinda got an attitude now. He’s still Super Service Cat like no other but wow is he mouthy. 🙂

I’m down to two breathing treatments a day. My lungs still hurt very much from whatever chemical was in my apartment. I was in the hospital twice over it. Yuck. That’s part of the, “endurance is for a purpose” entry.

Lastly, I missed my OCD meds for a week. Life is hard right now. Prior Authorization and such took a bit. I finally got them after a full week. I can feel the difference. It hurts.

Until soon,

Faith Magdalene

The Crooked Tea Cup – Chatter Art

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I take pen to paper and near violently sketch, in order to manage obsessive thoughts and counting. The Etsy painting expresses anxiety building that I needed to manage.

I paint what’s swirling in my head, marching, counting or popping. Art helps manage the symptoms and situation. 

When focused, I’ll express how I feel in bright colors next to black lines, and upside down flowers without uttering a single word.

This painting is 5.5×8.5 inches on watercolor paper, unmounted, signed, sealed

“The Crooked Tea Cup” – Arrows direct the path I should take;  paranoia is her guide.

Please see my Etsy shop for this raw art original.

Faith

One Shot. Roll On.

Posted on by F.Magdalene

Today part of me just mourned the loss of the old CNA that I really liked, the one who said I’m not disabled. It was short lived. I’d rather go without the toxicity thank you very much!!!

This head is tired.

I spoke with the owner who reassured me that she’s looking for a quality aide for me, not just anyone.

I’ve bombed on the meet and greet twice bc I gave too much info about OCD and scared qualified candidates; one I didn’t much like but would have worked with, the second I really, really like. Can I get a do over?

This whole one shot thing is horrible! You get one short interview with a person to see if you can work with them.

I’ve forgotten how the regular employed world works. You go to interviews, sell yourself in an hour then leave. One shot! Gracious! Oh my brain.

I’m trying to get it right, trying to do everything right. Why can’t I get it right?

Today I had to remind myself of my self worth because it recently tanked. I don’t assign my self worth, God does. He loved everyone enough to allow his son as ransom, including me. So get up Faith, shake the dirt off your shoulders.. and roll on. You got this.

desperate

A little frustrated and it shows

Posted on by F.Magdalene

I intended to keep the colors brighter like always, shockingly bright, but this time darker colors felt right.

The rainbow was given a darker red and a mustard yellow stripe in a midnight blue sky. The clothing of the figures is in plum, dark red, green and blue.

As I worked I realized the high amount of frustration and anger associated with feeling like a freak; feeling broken if not shatteted. Line after line I drew myself shatteted for the last time! I will not do it again.

I felt so hidden behind the lines, even hidden from myself. I’ve described being a multiple like looking into carnival mirrors. It’s hard to know who is who. Well, I may not always know the who but I do know The Way.

I need hope too. I don’t feel hopeless but sometimes I feel like I’m in prison here. I wish I could leave. This isn’t my home anymore. However, I can’t just up and go in the middle of the night – won’t up and go like that. I’ll move somewhere safe, clean. One thing is for sure, there’s no more peace here.

The painting will be in the shop very soon. Check my Etsy.

Faith

Sometimes I Feel Like A Freak

Posted on by F.Magdalene

This is about the stress and pressure from people telling me what I should be doing and me having a hard time finishing projects. Slowly but surely they are being completed, this one too very, very soon. –

Sometimes I feel like a freak but I try to hide it.

I try to blend in.

Say the right things, the right way.

I want to hold my face in the expression allowing emotions of the moment to show, balancing them on my brow and tongue like a real live woman.

I’m not normal. I’m not and the effort it takes to be, exhausts my tired spirit.

Sometimes I feel lost.

I’m lost

as ink scratches on

9×12 pads

roads and hills,

lands of dramatic color and wonder.

With each stroke of the pen to paper you hear the symphony of my madness.

There’s stress in the ink, acrylic and experimental designs. Stress to do it your way.

Change. Spotlight. Museum. Gallery. Gala. Teach. Speak, Lead!

Don’t waste your voice, your voice, your voice, your voice.

The art stops. The freak is seen clearer. And everyone finally goes home.

Faith Magdalene

The Whole World is On Fire

Posted on by F.Magdalene

This company, CICOA, that serves the elderly and disabled to find so called care companies to come in the house has now been told that I have DID. They, CICOA, told the doctor if I wanted care I’d have to give them both psychiatric and medical diagnosis. I was not asked about this.

The company was told I have DID. They passed it along to the under educated care companies who pass it along to their caregivers! Are you joking? Are you joking!!

No matter what company I go to they’ll know I have DID, the caregiver may know as well. Everyday people don’t need to know this.

In Indiana, most of these places aren’t run by medical professionals but by well meaning individuals who saw a need in the community. But well meaning doesn’t mean you know what to do or not to do or to just leave it the heck alone.

I told the CICOA worker that I spent years, years making sure my DID didn’t get out but nope, here we are, you guys couldn’t let it go. I said, so now that you know, who is educated enough to manage it? None of you! Not a single person in that building has the slightest bit of education to manage my disorder. She said, I have a bachelor in psychology. What’s that supposed to do? If you have a BA then you should have known to be more careful.

Curiosity killed the cat. The cat is me.

It matters that uneducated people are going to have this information and that I’m going to AGAIN hear how I need to just pray the demons out, spit them out, excercist, oil, rituals and that I have demons. I won’t go through it. I won’t go through it again. I may not have to bc I gave CICOA quite the unedited tongue lashing!! They may kick me out of the program. I really went off.

I spent so long holding that secret together and it’s over because J is nosey and gave a form requiring my mental health diagnosis. All that happened on the heels of my CNA getting fired by me yesterday morning, the CNA I liked so much.

We’d begun fighting, outright arguing daily. I’d apologize, she wouldn’t. I started to worry about a few things I couldn’t prove but was suss of.

The last argument was when discussing going to the grocery store. I said I’d like to go to the pet store first because it’s less energy than the grocery store. She said, I don’t want to double back. I said, but as a disabled person it’s easier on me to do the easier thing first. She chimed in with, I have plenty to say about you being disabled but we don’t want to have that conversation.

It hit hard. I was dazed. Seconds later I said, yes, we need to have this conversation. Long story short, the Certified Nurses Aide believes she is qualified to cancel out all doctor diagnosis for her punny, sad, opinion. I’m amazed! Amazed. There was no way she was working here if she didn’t even believe I’m disabled. My goodness.

As angry as I was that I had to fire her, I did forgive that stupidity. She can never work for me, but forgiveness is offered to the CNA and her ridiculous actions. Why? So I can leave just a tiny bit of peace in a world that is very short of it.

As for CICOA there is no such forgiveness…. This dumpster fire is part of the rest of the world that’s on fire. Cause if you hadn’t noticed, the whole world is kinda on fire right now.

Michael Joseph is ok but not great. He’s sleeping a lot. He eats well. Still drinking. He’s clingy then he goes back to hide under the bed.

I took a photo yesterday bc I just turned a corner in life and I know it. I’m not sure what’s around the corner, but I didn’t just turn a corner in life. I could feel it coming for a minute.

Faith Magdalene