Last day

It is Sunday, the last day of vacation. I still have a LOT of work to do. I'll be at the computer working all day long. I have a research paper to finish and edit. I really don't want to write it. I should also edit one of my old papers for my seminar class, but I REALLY have no desire to do that. It would be worth extra credit, and it would boost my class grade.

Tomorrow is the first day back to the daily grind. I have to call and set up electricity and go to T and get a copy of a letter out to Social Security. The anxiety is driving me nuts. I guess I don't have much to say. I was up late last night. I slept late today. I have a lot to do.

Me

Proof

Tonight proves that I am a horrible person. I knew it. I always knew it. What kind of person does this cr*p??? Who would want to do such a thing? Easy answer - an awful person. Why doesn't anyone believe me? They can't know; they aren't in my head. How the hell can they know that I am a good person. No one knows jack shit. NO ONE!

I am the only one with an inside look! ONLY I HAVE THAT KIND OF ACCESS! How dare anyone presume to know what kind of person I am. All of the lines about what they have heard from other people are crap. Those people were abused. It makes sense that they would think they were horrible people. It is reasonable for them to believe that they are bad or dark or evil. IT ALL MAKES SENSE FOR THEM! Nothing makes sense for me. I have no abusive history. I have nothing, no reason. Nothing exists to suggest some horrible life except for the way I think. Maybe that's just the way I think and just happens to be "out there" for NO GOOD REASON.

I wish that everyone would just believe me and stay away from me for their own good. I wish that everyone could see it. If they could, even my mother would. She wouldn't stand by me if she really knew. Then I could die. I wouldn't feel guilty about leaving others behind, and I could die. WHY CAN'T ANYONE SEE IT!?!

I hate this. I want to curl up in a corner wrapped up in a huge comforter and just cry. It will never happen. I am not so lucky. I want to die.

Me

Miscellaneous nonsense

I don't really have anything to write about today. There is this general sense of anxiety. I can't relate it to anything. It's making it really hard to focus on anything. I want it to go away, but there isn't any sign of that happening any time soon. It's only Saturday. I still have an entire day to go until T on Monday. I wish it was now.

I had a bit of a meltdown earlier today. I had found the perfect gift for the SO for Christmas. He went to visit a friend today, and she gave him a new cell phone. So much for that. Now I really don't know what I am going to get him. I have to figure out something.

I have so much to do. I have a paper to write. I have to fix his hat (because he ripped the tag out and it ripped the hat, big dummy). I have another paper (or two) to find and then do an edit/rewrite. I have to take a trip to walmart to get kitty litter. What I really want to do is go to sleep and not wake up for a really long time, if not forever.

Me

A nightmare

Thanksgiving was wonderful yesterday. Dinner came out great, and having the family down here was fun. I am looking forward to leftovers for the next week. We have SO many!

After everyone left to go home, and most of the cleaning was done (except for a few dishes soaking), "things" had come due. He had been bugging me earlier in the day to give it up before family came over. I was in the middle of cooking and refused. Unfortunately, to appease him, I promised that I would before the end of the day. It was the end of the night, and I felt like I couldn't say no (I mean, I had promised). I survived it, but I hate it. I hate the way that it feels and that my body responds to it at all. I told him that the other day when we were talking about it. He didn't believe me. He thinks that, because my body responds once "things" get started, I must enjoy it. Enjoyment is NOT a physical response. Enjoyment is a perception in the mind, and enjoyment isn't something that I feel like that. I HATE it!

I went to bed last night, and watched TV for a little while. I eventually fell asleep around 1 am. I had nightmare last night too, and it seemed to go on forever. I was on a college campus, and a lot of people I knew were there. We had several random activities like going to some place to have a special black and white picture taken. I had to find a ride to go to the photographer, but couldn't. I ended up just walking around the campus looking for a friend of mine. (Side note: This friend's name is Bev. I met her at Sheppard Pratt and was friends with her for several years. I lost touch with her, and miss her a lot. She was a great friend.) I just knew that she had planned to attend the college at the same time I had, but I couldn't find her. I ended up in the cafeteria, and some guy came up behind me and grabbed me around the chest. He pulled me to the floor. I screamed and screamed, and all of the people around us in the cafeteria ignored us. Some glanced over, but no one helped me. He grabbed my br**sts and reached around and tried to grab my cr*tch. I finally managed to get away, but my clothes were gone. All I had left (on) were my bra and underwear. I ran and ran until I got to some office. She tried to help me a little bit in taking a report, but couldn't offer much. She told me to go back to my room and put on some clothes. I had to walk back in my underwear, ashamed and afraid. When the worst of the dream was over, I still couldn't escape it. I continued to wander around the grounds, getting lost in places I had never been before.

I woke up and couldn't separate the dream from reality for a good 40 minutes or so. It was very scary. I hate nightmares. Now it is time to move on with the day. Hopefully it will be much better than that.

Me

Just a quick note

It's Thanksgiving. I am up and getting ready to start the turkey. I will sit down shortly to write out my cooking plan for the day. Hopefully, it will turn out to be a very nice day. Hope it is that way for everyone else that I know (and don't know).

I'll post again later about the status of my pies (I baked two including my very first pumpkin ever).

Happy Thanksgiving,

Me

A crazy day (or life)

I went to counseling this morning. (I should mention that I see a T on Mondays and a counselor on Wednesdays every week. It will be that way until next semester starts and my schedule changes.) I spent the beginning of the session talking about as many inconsequential things (boy that seems to be my "word" lately) as I could think of. That didn't last for long though, it never does. I finally had to move on to how I felt ("eh"). I told her that a lot had come up for me this past week. All the yuck that came up the Saturday before last reared its ugly head again Friday evening. I couldn't sleep. I read a book that brought back a memory that really sucked. She asked if I could talk about it, but I really couldn't. I told her that she could probably read it on the blog. I had forgotten to give her the address last week, or maybe she didn't ask and I just didn't offer. Either way, it contains information that might come in handy for her.

She proceeded to inform me that the T had called her on Monday. I knew he was going to read the blog after our session (the first 11 entries anyways), and I could immediately guess why he had called her. She told me that he was worried. We had talked a little bit about "the stuff" that had come up for me twice and was really getting to me. Added to the blog entries, I guess it might have been a little alarming. Then again, I even commented within that the T was going to freak or have a field day. I shouldn't have been surprised.

As it turns out, though, the T could talk to the counselor, but not vice versa. When I first started seeing him, Isigned an agreement that he could talk to her. She and I talked about doing the same thing, but decided to hold off until I felt a little more comfortable and was sure that I was going to stay. It didn't come up in conversation after that. It was apparently a very one-sided conversation. She told me that normally, without that agreement, she wouldn't even acknowledge that she knew me. However, that would have been a little weird since I talk about her in session a lot and specifically gave him her contact info when I signed the release. This week I have to think about how exactly I want to put together a release so that I don't feel too exposed. Just blogging here has left me more exposed than I ever thought I would be willing to do.

I had to read blogs for a paper for school, and I found one where the T has access. Shortly after that, I went to see the counselor one Wednesday and discovered that every time I get within shouting-distance of anything major, I run away as far and as fast as I can. I decided that, since I can often write about things that I can't say, I should start a blog and offer access to my T. I just wanted to be able to share things without really sharing anything, to give him a back door from which he could ask questions. I try very hard not to censor myself any more than I would if this was truly private. There are a lot of things I can't write, even to myself, but I try to be as honest and open as I can here. I've said a lot already.

That makes the release complicated and scary. I am afraid. I feel like I am already revealing so much of myself to the T. The counselor knows a lot more because I've been seeing her for over 3 years. I've only been seeing the T for a few months. I trust her not to reveal too much of me unnecessarily, but it's still difficult. I'm probably just going to write "with discretion" on the release and hope that things go well.

I gave the counselor the web address today. I'm really not sure what she'll think. I guess I'll see next week. She did mention a concern that she had (and she's right). I'm not talking about all of the things that are coming up for me. I can't speak them out loud. I've written about them to some extent in extreme generalities, but that isn't quite the same. Without discussing it all with someone who can challenge my beliefs, I am just internalizing all of the things that I am remembering and incorporating them into the belief that I am bad. Hopefully next week, when they have both had a chance to read the blog, we can get into something of substance.

During the session I remembered two more things. One memory was related to the bad memory (from the book) on Friday, and the other memory came from the counselor's earrings. Her earrings reminded me of a pair that Jennifer gave me during the day program at Sheppard Pratt. She made jewelry, and had a beautiful selection. While we were inpatient on B-4, I had given her something. (Lotion or body wash maybe?) The earrings were a present for helping her out. The second memory involved a friend of mine when I was in elementary school. Even then, I was very good at giving massages. I think that I learned by massaging my dad's hand when it started to throb, but I'm really not sure. Offering a friend a massage may not seem like anything of any importance, and it wouldn't be were it not for the thoughts that went along with it. Again, I was stopped by a child, someone younger than myself (although only by a year or less), who knew that what I was trying to do was wrong. She might not have known why, but she knew that she was uncomfortable with it. I felt shunned and confused.

I'm sure that I'll hear from someone in the coming week that it doesn't make me a bad person. Only a bad person would try to do that to someone else. I know the truth, whether anyone else is willing to admit it or not.

I did a lot of cooking today after my appointment. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, I had a lot to get ready. I made homemade applesauce (Great-great-grandmother's recipe). I also made an apple pie and a pumpkin pie (my first one). Both pies turned out great! I also did some prep work for tomorrow to make life a little easier.

It was a fun afternoon anyways. It made the day a little less stressful.

That's all from me,

Me

Rough day in T

I had T today. I was nervous because I wasn't sure if he had time to look at the blog or not. It turned out that he hadn't. That was good because I didn't have to face anything, but bad because a lot has come up in the last week that I can't talk about. We sort of talked about one thing, but I can't really remember that part. I know that he said that we should talk about why I think I deserve certain things. I don't want to look at the cause.

After that, I curled up about as small as I could and just shut down. "K" came out then, and she wasn't in good shape. Talking about the forbidden question (What do you deserve?) is never good for her. I don't know why. The T thought that she might want to talk about it because she had come out, but I'm not so sure. She got pulled back in it seems, because it was really sudden. "D" came out and made a deal with the T that he wouldn't ask why we believe those things. He said that he didn't like the deal because he felt that it was a really important thing to talk about, but he's agreed to it for now. It was kind of exhausting, and I don't feel like anything good came out of it. So much is going on in my head right now that I'm just miserable.

We (the SO and I) are getting ready to move within the next two weeks, and I just get this feeling that I want to be alone...that I don't want to be in a relationship anymore. We've been together for a few years, and although there have been issues, it has been generally stable. Now I am looking at doing this major work with all of this stress. So much is coming up now, and I have every reason to believe that there is a whole lot more underneath. How am I going to manage a relationship with all of that.

There are serious problems as it stands. Actually, there is one major problem as it stands. Unfortunately, it is a problem that requires one of us to make major sacrifices no matter how it stands. We both can't have what we want and be happy. He sacrificed for three months, and had had enough. Then it was my turn to sacrifice, and I hate it. I'll be doing it from here on out. Hating my body. Hating myself. Wanting to cut but not being able to. (He would see it and be angry.) Wanting to starve (although that impulse is largely due to how close "e" is to the front).

I stand by the last few posts; I just want to die. I know that I can't do that. The guilt won't let me kill myself. If, however, I can put myself in a dangerous situation, then I just won't try to protect myself. Wow. Not going to finish that thought.

For a long time, I just wanted to remember. I wanted to fill the holes in my past, to know about my life. I am beginning to know, and I want it to go away. I want to live in blissful ignorance. If I can't have that, then I want to die.

Me

Moving

We went to see an apartment today. (By "we," I mean the SO and I.) It's a little smaller than where we are now, but it's nicer. It's cleaner. We don't have anyone above or below us. We have about triple the closet space and cabinet space. It has a clean tub instead of a moldy shower. It is being freshly painted just for us. We still have a private entrance. We have a balcony with a pretty view. It has a flat, paved parking lot instead of dirt and gravel on a hill. He keeps it plowed in the winter, unlike our landlords now who only plow if it snows more than three inches in one shot (but it really adds up!). He allows tenants to store things in the basement and garage (extra storage space pretty much makes up for the reduction in floor space).

I hope that we are happy there. I have wanted to move out of this apartment for so long. I really hope that we are happy. In the meantime, now I have to start packing. I know that I am good at packing and can do it quickly. I just need boxes. I guess I'll call staples and office max today to see if I can get my hands on paper boxes. They are the greatest to pack in. It's going to be an exhausting couple of weeks.

I am already exhausted. I didn't really sleep again last night. I fell asleep between 5 and 6 am. I woke up again at 11 am. There's so much on my mind. I really wish I could talk about it. I wish that I could post it here, or bring it up in T. It is too big and bad and scary. It's all just way too much.

Me

Explaining it all

I hate myself. In truth, that is the answer to it all. I hate my body and what it does. I hate that I have to take care of it. If I didn't have so much guilt over what would happen to people like my mother if I died, I would just not take care of my body at all. And why is this the truth? Because I am not worth it. This isn't to say that I do not think that I am worth it, or that I don't want to be worth it. I want to be worthy of life more than anything in the world. The truth is that I know that I am worthless. I know the truth of myself. I deserve the bad things that come to me. I am eternally grateful for all of the good things that come my way because they are a true gift to someone who has no reason to ever expect or dream of anything good. And, I wait for those things to be destroyed, because nothing good in my life can last.

I know of the blackness inside, where others can only imagine it. No one believes that it is as bad as it is. I am the one inside my body and mind, and only I know the real truth of myself. What little girl tries to abuse another child? The answer, a bad one.

I guess that one of the reasons I am in T is so that I can change that, but I don't really believe that's possible. I almost don't want it to be possible. I don't know what I want. I want to forget. I want to live in blissful ignorance uptil death.

Why do I hate myself so much? Why does my entire life have to revolve around trying to fight my nature, around trying not to be the bad person that I really am. Doing good things and avoiding causing others pain as much as I can doesn't change my basic nature. Why do I spend so much energy trying? It's useless, pointless. I am what I am.

A useless bad child.

Me

What I deserve (a really bad night)

I hate it. I can't sleep and I hate it. I am tired of thinking about it. I am tired of dreaming of it. I am tired of wishing for it and planning it. I want to sleep peacefully. I do not want to think about paying someone or coming to a mutual agreement with someone to do horrible things to me. I am just FUCKING TIRED!

I understand the difference that the counselor pointed out between the thoughts in my head (of which I have control over) and translating it to a live situation (where the control is completely in someone else's hands). But it comes down to one thing, the only thing that matters is whether or not I care. The truth is, I don't care. I don't care what comes of it. The circumstances could kill me, and I just don't care. That prospect neither thrills or upsets me. I almost want to do it over break just to get it over with.

I'm on the edge of cutting again to relieve the stress of it all. I just can't stand myself. I hate what I do on the internet to be able to put myself in those shoes, to envision myself in that situation and feel better. I do in the moment, but then can't stand myself. I CANNOT STAND MYSELF! Were it not for Herb, I would follow through with it now. Were it not for my mother, I would choose to die.

I cannot continue to do this. I feel like I am going insane. I want to die. When this isn't so immediate again, I might feel a little bit better. I also know that this will come again. I don't want to face this anymore. I want to die.

(Man is the T going to flip this week. Wow.)

Me

A Book and a Memory

I am officially on break from school, as of 12 o'clock this afternoon. This week has been Hell week for me. I had to write two papers and put together a 5 minute presentation complete with power point slides, and it all ended up pushed back to the very last minute. I made the decision to take the day off. This afternoon was all about relaxing for me, and I decided to read a book that I had gotten from the library last week. It was called Call Me Crazy by Anne Heche. I read the whole thing, all 250 pages of it, in a couple of hours this evening.

She was horribly abused as a child, and had a lot of problems coming to terms with it. The book as a whole struck me, but a few certain parts stuck out. I marked one that I found particularly relevant. She wrote:

I tried to be what everyone I was with wanted, until I couldn't be it anymore. I wanted to be good enough, pretty enough, sexy enough, for him not to love who he was really loving, and love me instead. This would somehow prove that I was lovable. I could put myself on the back burner for someone and twist and contort myself into what I thought they wanted so that they would love me. In the process, me got left at the door, buried in the couch, hung out to dry. I became the idea of me that I thought they all wanted.

That really stuck out to me because I do that. I try to become the chameleon. Even at home, I am not myself. I do my best to be what they want, and I am always successful for a while. Unfortunately, as my ability to conform crumbles, so too does the relationship. Most have crumbled fast. One has held on way too long in this state. I keep hoping that I can do enough therapy to be better, more me, more real and present. I'm not even sure that's possible.

A memory came back while reading the book. I'm not sure anymore exactly what in the book triggered the memory. It has been hovering around the edges of my mind for at least a few days, and possibly longer. (Man, the T is going to have a field day with this when he sees it.)

Okay, deep breath.

When I was little, I had a really close friend named Thomas. He was a year or two younger than I was. I lived two houses down from him when we were little. I remember being in his house one day and playing in a bedroom. I'm not sure if it was his room or a guest/playroom. I feel like it might have been the latter because I think that his actual bedroom was the rooom right next to the one we were in, but that might be wrong. It's just a weak impression. I was probably about 6 years old (because I know how old I was when I lived on that street). I remember trying to play a game that we might have called "doctor," but again, I'm not really sure about that detail. I might have added that later to legitimize the interaction when I learned that it's a common activity for young children. I remember what I was thinking though. I wanted to touch his p*n*s. I wanted to feel in control of it, to explore it in my own good time. He didn't want to, and I backed down disappointed. Earlier, when this first really hit, I was horrified and felt flooded with emotion of sorts. Now though, I am cold and neutral. I feel disconnected from the whole experience now, and it feels like maybe it didn't happen at all.

I don't know what to think anymore. I want it all to go away.

Me

Almost time to relax

One more day until break...actually, less than 24 hours. November break officially starts for me tomorrow at noon. I CANNOT wait. I am a little less stressed than I started out at the beginning of the week. I turned in one paper on Wednesday and gave my presentation this morning. I had two more papers due this week, but one of them was cancelled completely. That only leaves one, but it's a doozy. I have to write a rough draft for a 7-10 page research paper, and it's due tomorrow. I'm thinking it's going to be awful, but maybe I can pull something out. I always seem to manage.

I am excited for a week off of dance too. I sprained my ankle back at the beginning of the year, and it's still giving me problems. I also have a foot injury going on right now on the opposite side. Taking a week off might just let me rest up and heal a little bit.

I went to see the counselor yesterday and we talked about what's been bothering me since the Saturday before last. I couldn't say a lot about it, so a lot of it was cryptic and relied on the questions that she asked. Once again, it came back to the one "forbiden question." What do I deserve? And then another related question, why do I think that? I HATE those questions.

But I really do have to write that paper. So I'm going to go for now and attempt to do something.

Me

New developments and general craziness

Lately I have definitely noticed "e" near the front a lot more. She is very quiet and observant in nature, and I always appreciate her help when it comes. Unfortunately, she brings a lot of not so great food impulses with her. That hasn't been ideal this week since I'm already going crazy. But she is a calming force for the most part, so I would never ask her to retreat. She makes 4 that I am aware of again now. I wish that I had more communication, but there just hasn't been time to really work on it. It makes things tough. I'll have a four week break for the holidays though, so hopefully, while teaching myself basic French, I can find time to really work on communication with those that I have awareness with again.

College has been a bit overwhelming the past week or so. Break is three more days away, and a lot of the professors are cramming in as much work as they can. That means that the one week of classes after break will be a breeze, but this is hell week. This is my first semester of "real" college (guess I'll have to say more about that another time). This week, I have three papers due, a 10-page, a 2-page, and a 3-page. I also have to put together a 5 minute powerpoint presentation and speech for a 4th class. There aren't enough hours in the day!I'm just trying to keep in mind that break is almost here. All that I will really have to due during and after break is study for finals. I'll have a tiny little bit of reading, but not much. The last week will be relaxing, and having nearly three weeks (including vacation) to prepare for finals really helps to relieve some of the stress.

I should be getting back to work though, despite my strong desire to bury my head in the sand and sleep until it is all over. At least I realize how much stress that would cause in the long run when I woke up to find all of my grades down the drain. (Too many analogies in one short paragraph? Maybe.)

TTFN,
Me

Bad things at night

I'm in a relationship. (Had I mentioned that before? Maybe, can't really remember.) I'll be using softeners a lot in this post because the words are hard for me to write, not because of any "forum etiquette" that I've picked up through the years.

S*x is a big issue between the SO and I. He wants it a lot more than I do. Actually, he wants it period, and I simply don't. That obviously doesn't work out so well. Although he conceded for a while, at this point it is my turn to concede. (Except for a wonderful 3-month respite, it seems that I am always the one to concede, although I'm sure that he compromises on frequency.) So all of that means that things "came due" last night. I hate his timing. He always pushes for it right before I have to walk out the door to go somewhere or extremely late at night when I have to get up the next day. Last night was no exception with the request coming at 12:30 at night. I wanted to get it over with, however, so I just let it go.

I can distance myself from it to a point, but some of the things that he says during just mentally fling me around. I'm not even exactly sure why. He says things like "give it to daddy," and "that's a good girl." When I hear it I want to crawl right out of my skin. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I want to squirm away and just run as far and as fast as I can from the house. I don't, but it makes me nauseous and I hate it. I couldn't post this last night, I had to go to sleep. This morning, the feelings don't feel quite so immediate. But they are still there, lingering in the background. I dread the next time. I always dread it. I wish that I could destroy the parts of myself that make me, well...me. Unfortunately, I know exactly where an act like that would land me. If I had the money, I would just have a plastic surgeon do it for me. Then it would just make me vain, not nuts. Well, I'm sure since I'd be doing the opposite of what most people want, I might still be considered SLIGHTLY nuts, but at least not totally.

Class starts in a few minutes, so I have to go. If I think of more later, I'll post again.

Me

Forgetfulness...and remembering (could be triggering to some with SI issues)

I found a quote a little while ago, and it struck me as something that I should write about. By the time I opened the page to write, I couldn't remember the quote. I'll try to find it again later. I know that it was in something I was reading, but I've read a few things and it would take me a few hours to have to reread through it all. I just don't have a few hours tonight.

I am still dealing with the "remembering" from last weekend. I know that if I tell that to T tomorrow, he will want to work on containment with me. I don't know why I'm so resistant to that idea, but I am. The only thing that I can come up with (and it feels like it is probably the right answer) is that I am afraid it won't work. Right now I can at least delude myself by thinking that it WOULD work if I actually took the time to really work at it. If we do try it though, and containment doesn't work, then I can't even pretend anymore that it would. That means that anything can come back at will and I can't put it away when it gets to be too much. I just don't want to know if that happens to be the reality. I want to stay in my shell and pretend that all of the bad just isn't there. I know that isn't possible though, and to make any kind of progress requires that I face it.

There is also, I think, another aspect to my resistance towards containment. I want to suffer. As much as I hate it and wish that I didn't feel this way, I feel like it's necessary. I deserve it in some way that I can't even comprehend.

I thought today about how it felt, lingering like it is. It is like a razor blade being drawn slowly down my arm to the fingertips. The pain doesn't go away, and it leaves an open wound. Every time I remember, it leaves a new scar on my soul. (Wow that sounds melodramatic, doesn't it?) I just realized what that analogy really meant. I've done "that" enough times to know and remember exactly how it feels. I can imagine the sensation and be equally thrilled and repulsed by it.

I have discovered rather recently that I am probably switching a good bit more than I know about. The SO has finally agreed to actually start telling me when he finds things around the house out of order. Apparently someone is fixated with the fish tank. He finds the light turned on some mornings when he gets home from work. On at least one occasion he found the filter speed turned down to about half-way. We always keep it on full because it oxygenates the water better and the fish like to play in the current. I used to be much more aware of the switching, and there were only a few that I couldn't keep track of. Life is different now though. We are just barely beginning to work towards co-consciousness and communication again in T. I only know that someone else has been out now if I find evidence or discover that I am missing information. I've had the feeling for a while that it was happening a good bit more than I knew about. I guess I was right. At least I am not losing huge blocks of time and the switching isn't interfering with daily activities. It seems that, even without communication, we have reached some sort of equilibrium. Even when the others are out, they make sure that appointments are kept and obligations are met.

I think I am going to open this blog up to T tomorrow when I go. I have no idea if he will care to read it, but it could be a really great way to access information that I cannot speak. I can write and type so many more things than I can say to anyone, even someone that I trust implicitely (which I don't with him...yet). There are some things that I can't even write yet. I find that I can answer questions even when I am unable to volunteer information. (Sarcasm to follow: Thanks A/S for the information blocks...) Hopefully he will want to read this. That does put some pressure on me to actually talk about things here, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I never thought that I would actually be able to post here. I've had issues posting online before, but this feels safe enough to me. I hope it continues to work.

Me

Feeling Overwhelmed

I am tired of feeling overwhelmed. I just feel on the edge of collapse. I am glad that Thanksgiving break is coming up in a week. I need the break, but the pressure right now to get everything done in a week is intense. It's even harder when I am finally trying to face things in T. I want a release, and my first instinct is to start SI again. It isn't feasable right now though, because I am in a relationship with someone who would absolutely have a fit if he saw any marks on my body that I couldn't rationally explain. (I think SI is a perfectly rational explanation, but we massively disagree on that one.)

Some really bad stuff came up for me last weekend, and I haven't been able to just shove it all back down like I usually do. It just lingers there in the back of my mind and pounces on me at the most inoportune moments. It all makes me want to scream.

I have dance performances all weekend long and on Monday, three in total. Love to dance, but can't wait until it is over.

I want to forget. I don't want to think about what I deserve or what I want to happen to me to fulfill my beliefs about myself. I don't want to remember. I want to disappear and be away from it all. I don't want it to have a place in my thoughts.

I feel the others more. I want one of them to take it away. WHY WON'T ANYONE TAKE IT AWAY!?! I feel...can't say her name...more. The food impulses tell me that she is staying closer to the front. I would just retreat inside and let someone else handle it all if school wasn't my job. It's nearly the end of the semester. To leave now would be disasterous for all of the final projects and final exams.

I guess I am done for now.

Me

Followers and history

Just a bried note about the blog...

I added the Followers widget to the blog today because they suggest it if you ever want people to read your blog.

I decided today that I should go back and give a brief history of things. I'm a late 20-something now. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was just turning 20, but I guess it was quite a while ago. It's more complicated than that though, because "I" am not 20-something. I never even turned 20 myself. I'm a lot younger, 16-ish infact. I only say "ish" because some days it feels younger. I've learned how to act the "right" age though.

I've known about the others for many years, since about 14, although I had no idea what they were then. I only ever heard one, and I didn't know that he was separate from me. I just thought he was another sounding voice that I heard my thoughts in, like my own internal voice. I knew that that one said awful things, but I just thought that was how I really felt...even though I didn't want to and tried to deny it. I didn't find out until about 20 that he, and others, were separate from me. I've spent a few times in Sheppard Pratt Hospital because of DID.

The first couple of years were really bad. Everything was chaotic and nothing made sense anymore. In more recent years, things have calmed down. I spent a couple of years (after we had built up a lot of coconsciousness and communication) cut off from everyone. Now I'm back in T trying to bring it all back and start working through everything. It's starting to get tough, and I am feeling very everwhelmed.

I created a website for the system. At some point, when I feel a little more secure, I will post the link here.

I know this is a very scattered post, and for that I am sorry. I am feeling pretty scattered right now though, so it doesn't surprise me much.

Me

Hiding from the light

I nearly called this post "Hiding behind the shadows." It would have been fitting. That's what I've been doing lately, for years really. Every time I got within shouting distance of anything substantial in T, I find that I ran from it as fast as I possibly could. I finally really became aware of that last Wednesday. My goal for several years has been to "remember and accomplish something in T." Don't ask me what that means because I really don't know. My counselor doesn't question my sincerity in my desire to deal with all of this stuff and come out on the other side, but even she has noted my inability to face anything. Although I have to say that she has been more than patient with it.

So last week I finally told her that I was willing to deal with "something." She brought a topic about my current situation, and I humorously refused. She tried again, asking what we have termed together as, "The Forbidden Question," but I wasn't having any of that topic either. Finally, she asked about the roots of the forbidden question (stuff from the past...yuck!). I wasn't willing to face that one either. At that point, I realized what I was truly doing. All of that questioning and back and forth brought something back. I know I had remembered it before, but it still felt just as new and striking to me in that moment. I have been with this counselor for over three years, and I really do trust her, but there are some walls that just don't come down. One inside blocks so much. As much as I wanted to tell her, I just wasn't capable of forming the words. It took me almost half an hour to figure out something that I could say that might give her enough of a clue to ask questions.

I told her that I used to curl up as far into the corner of the couch as possible and sit perfectly still, and that I would stare intently into the TV (or a book, but only if I happened to already have one in my lap)and try to disappear into it. She asked if anyone else was there in the room. "Yes." (Actually not always...but the person was close enough regardless.) She asked if that person was my dad. "Yes." She asked if he was angry. "Yes." She asked if he was angry with me for some (or no) reason. "No." I told her that sometimes, depending on the layout of the house we lived in at the time, I could escape from the living room and hide upstairs. She asked what he was angry about. "The computer."

We had made it far enough, and I found I could say a little. I guess the Censor decided that since she knew so much already, it was pointless to keep retaining details. She still didn't make it easy to say, but at least I could say something. I told her that he used to throw things, although never at anyone, and that he used to throw or kick any pet that got too close. I told her that I tried to become as invisible as possible, and only escaped upstairs if there was something substantial, like a wall, between him and I when he got angry. It was hard.
Saturday was a bad night. I remembered something and then did something to help me sleep. I wish I could write about it, but that is one of the severely blocked things. Most things I just can't say, but there are some things that I can't write either.

The following Monday I went to T (and yes, if you are wondering, I do have a counselor and a T), and I told him what had come up for me with the counselor, what I was aware of about my own hinderances to progress, and attempted to share something about what I had remembered. I also gave him a piece of paper that had two words on it...one of which had only one letter and three asterisks in it. I couldn't even write it all out. That was what had come up that Saturday night. It all ties back into the Forbidden Question somehow. That question and one other, "why," are the result of everything that came before, and are at the heart of everything that I do, say, and think now.

All in all, it's been a really tough week. The results of everything that have come up aren't going away. My stomach is constantly upset because of it all. I feel like I am on the edge of tumbling into oblivion and it terrifies me. I want to simply sleep for several weeks and hope that it is all gone when I wake up. I don't have time to be all screwed up and freaked out right now. It's almost the end of the semester at achool, and I have a lot going on.
I'm sorry that my first post was so long. I guess I had a lot to say, although it seems to be primarily a lot of nothing. Hopefully it will get better.

Me (How I'll refer to myself since my name is the one that anyone in the body uses when out, with the exception of T)