<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452</id><updated>2011-07-07T17:48:06.238-04:00</updated><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Followers'/><category term='Emotions'/><category term='Suicide'/><category term='badness'/><category term='injuries'/><category term='S*x'/><category term='Website'/><category term='Switching'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Pets'/><category term='books'/><category term='Forbidden question'/><category term='At home'/><category term='Memories'/><category term='Co-consciousness'/><category term='Relationship'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='SI'/><category term='Nightmare'/><category term='Friends and family'/><category term='Sheppard Pratt'/><category term='Moving'/><category term='College'/><category term='insomnia'/><category term='T'/><category term='Personal nature'/><category term='Eating Disorder'/><category term='Responsibilities'/><category term='self-hatred'/><category term='Disclosure'/><category term='Volunteering'/><category term='Containment'/><category term='Dance'/><category term='DID experiences'/><category term='Body Image'/><category term='Death'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Hiding Behind Shadows</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1936378285765083926</id><published>2009-12-20T21:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T21:48:58.479-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Complications</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in such a long time, and for that I'm sorry. I'm sure that no one bothers to follow my dead blog anymore, but I feel the need to update anyways. If nothing else, it will give me an opportunity to get some things off of my chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still in college, and it's been a REALLY rough semester. A few weeks in my fiance, who I've been with for the better part of four years, decided he wanted to split up. Apparently he just said it in anger, but I didn't know that for a couple of days. I made the decision not to let him take it back. We both have a lot of issues and neither one of us truly fulfills the other's needs. I just decided that it was better to try to be friends for the time being while we both worked on ourselves individually. Six days later he thought we were in a relationship again because I said that I might be willing to try again once he'd changed. He decided that he had turned his whole life around in six days. I just couldn't believe that he had changed that quickly, so I told him that I wasn't willing to try it again yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had another blow out that night (midterms week of course). Instead of studying for my midterms and writing my papers I spent the evening moving every single thing I owned from the main part of the apartment and our shared bedroom into the spare bedroom (which served as my office). I had so many meltdowns during the semester, and I basically lived in the Dean's office. He and I were still living together despite the breakup, and that made everything more difficult. However, things were finally starting to look up. We were getting along better and even started to joke around again. During finals week, everything fell apart again. Basically, he told me that I was so selfish and uncaring that no one would ever be able to stand to be in a relationship with me. Essentially, my best friend in the world told me that I was unlovable. I had a complete meltdown and it was only through the grace of two amazing friends that I survived my last day of finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you're caught up, so here's what's going on now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're still living together, but I'm taking steps to move out. I know he's not happy about it. I just broke the news today. Part of it has to do with what he said (uncaring, selfish, unlovable). I finally realized (or maybe just got around to admitting it to myself) that we have both hurt each other so much during the past four years that we really can't rebuild any part of our friendship as long as we are still living in the same space, and it might not even be possible once we live apart. To be honest, I simply don't trust him anymore. I've never let anyone get as close to me as I did with him and he took everything he knew about me and used it to hurt me in the deepest possible way. How am I supposed to feel comfortable sharing my most private self with him now? The second reason that I want to move out is that he is dating again. He has seen this woman just about every day since they had coffee this past Thursday. I can't say that it upsets me or makes me jealous; I just find it very uncomfortable. I feel like it's put this wall up between us, the giant pink elephant in the middle of the room that no one talks about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, the fact that he is seeing someone else hurt for the very first time. He told me that he was going next door to visit his kids (they're grown). He came back at one point to pick up some food for them that he didn't want. Before he left again, he told me that he would be back by 8:30 (not that it mattered to me). When he got home, I asked him if he had a good time with his kids. He said, "yes," and then told me that he had gone over to "her" house so that she could wrap Christmas presents for him. I've always done that for him, and I live right here in the house. Why did he have to drive all the way over there for her to do it? I still can't say that I'm particularly upset. It's more like a feeling of unease, or maybe like someone just stabbed me in the side. Somehow, it's a purely physical sensation instead of an emotional one (although I'm sure that there's some emotion behind it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea if I'm being reasonable or not. Moving out brings so many issues with it, but staying brings so many more. I don't want to feel like this for the next two and a half years (until I go off to grad school). I feel like my wanting to move is really bothering him, and that it's going to cause issues until I can make it happen. However, I don't think that I can survive another semester like this past one. I can't deal with all of the drama and distractions. I really need a break. I'm not going to get one as long as I live here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish there were clear cut answers in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1936378285765083926?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1936378285765083926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1936378285765083926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1936378285765083926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1936378285765083926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/12/complications.html' title='Complications'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-5247270143580526259</id><published>2009-03-28T23:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T00:19:28.728-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>Amazing Night</title><content type='html'>I did something tonight that I had no intention of doing; I went to a dance. I've heard tales of this mythic dance since I first started college back in August. Actually, I might have started hearing about this popular event from alumni before I even landed on campus. I decided a while ago that I really didn't care to attend either the "mythic dance" or the rebellious event meant as the rebel response to the "mythic dance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I went. I didn't know that I was going until about 2 1/2 hours before it started. I was still planning on a quiet evening at home doing homework (or something like that). My plans changed when a friend found out that I was planning to skip it and "harassed" me into going. As it turned out, faculty and staff come to this event and bring their spouses and children; it's quite the networking opportunity. I scrambled to get ready, pulling a dress out of the closet that I bought about 2 years ago but never wore. I had nothing for my hair (I ran out of hairspray a couple of weeks ago). I had to run to the store to get hairspray and a headband. I came home, curled my hair, put on my make-up, and left for the dance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been the "dance" type. I usually grab a drink and sit on the side-lines, like a traditional wall flower I suppose. This time, I stuck with my routine until friends started to arrive. I ended up teaching three of my friends to swing dance and dancing with a fourth friend as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food was amazing. They had a leg of beef...I mean the WHOLE thing. The dessert tables were just phenomenal. Our college has the best dining services. When they go all out it's a sight (and taste) to behold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had two rooms with two different bands. I enjoyed the blues band, but the swing band was my favorite. I know how to swing dance and really enjoy it. That is where I spent most of my evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to bow out a little early because the SO had to go to work tonight, but I didn't mind at all. I am just glad that I went. I will definitely go every year now. It was a completely wonderfully amazing experience. (However, I am not used to doing anything other than walking and standing in heels; dancing was definitely an experience. My feet still hurt an hour later.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it was a great night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-5247270143580526259?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/5247270143580526259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=5247270143580526259' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5247270143580526259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5247270143580526259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/03/amazing-night.html' title='Amazing Night'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-296247843442328437</id><published>2009-03-06T23:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T23:49:30.517-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-hatred'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Containment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>Shaking the Foundations</title><content type='html'>Well, I suppose that I should first acknowledge my complete failure to complete the last post as well as my neglect of this site for the past few weeks. It drives me nuts (even though I understand that life gets busy sometimes) when the blogs that I follow go weeks or more without an update. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, a new post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to admit to myself that my core beliefs, the foundations of everything, might be a little skewed. Beliefs that I am a bad person, inherently bad, disgusting, gross, lazy, fat, undeserving of happiness, stupid, and other things influence everything from what I think and do to how I perceive and respond to everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often feel paralyzed by the double binds that I have created for myself where one option proves that I am inherently bad, etc., and the other option means that I have to face a reality that I do not want to admit. Either way, I have to live with a reality that I find devastating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In T, I find myself resistant to any intervention that may lead to some resolution (one way or another) of these double binds. My fear of both resolutions keeps me trapped. I am more comfortable sitting in this uncomfortable double bind with no answers than I am to make a move and discover that my history is incomprehensibly bad or that I am inherently bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something has been plaguing me for a long time and I was resistant to attempting to contain it for exactly the reason mentioned earlier. If it turns out to be possible to contain it (as measured by success in attempting containment), then it confirms that there are parts of my past that I want nothing to do with because they are so heinously awful. If this thing cannot be contained, then it proves that I am gross and disgusting and lazy. How can I live with myself knowing those things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I've decided to take a leap of faith that somehow things can get better. The T said that eventually I would have to make a move if I ever wanted to get beyond all of this stuff. I know that he is right. Eventually I will have to make a decision, face the consequences, find the answer. Since it is going to be eventually, it may as well be now. I've been wanting to do it since last Wednesday, but haven't managed to get around to it yet. I will though, before he comes back from vacation a week from Tuesday. As much as I want to avoid it and run screaming in the other direction, I am going to face this. It is simply something that I have to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've really got to prepare for this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-296247843442328437?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/296247843442328437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=296247843442328437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/296247843442328437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/296247843442328437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/03/shaking-foundations.html' title='Shaking the Foundations'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-6760833680429079413</id><published>2009-02-09T10:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:51:40.951-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><title type='text'>No escape</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, I gave in to the SO's "needs". I didn't really want to because I had so much work to do and nowhere near enough time to do it, but I knew that it had been a while and he wasn't going to put up with it for much longer. I had to take a shower anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, I can sort of shut it out. This time, however, was very different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm going to have to continue this later because class is starting soon and people are starting to arrive. I'll edit this post later this afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-6760833680429079413?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/6760833680429079413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=6760833680429079413' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6760833680429079413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6760833680429079413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-escape.html' title='No escape'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2095288125020155058</id><published>2009-02-05T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T21:42:37.103-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>What is Unhappy?</title><content type='html'>What is unhappy? I really don't know. At first it seems to be an emotion, but I really do not believe that is accurate. One definition of happy, according to the Random House Dictionary, is characterized by or indicative of pleasure, contentment, or joy. Happy is clearly an emotion. Sadness is often considered to be the opposite of happiness. Sadness is defined as being expressive of or characterized by sorrow. Unhappiness is not the same as sadness. The prefix 'un-' means not, opposite, or take something away. Doesn't it stand to reason that unhappiness simply means not happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not feel sad in my relationship with the SO. I feel a complete lack of happiness, a deep unhappiness from which I feel unable to escape. He and I are incompatible on every scale that matters, and even a few that don't. Our beliefs on a wide range of issues, values, quantity and quality of communication, interests, educational level, goals, time-lines, and priorities are all so different that we are nearly at polar opposites on all of it. I am unhappy. I do not know what that means, truly, but I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home from counseling today and he was already home. After talking about a few other things, he asked me how it went. I talked a lot about how incompatible we are and what to do about it. I couldn't tell him that, so I told him that she just gave me a lot to think about. He asked, "like what?" I told him one thing was the fact that I get myself into situations that confirm that I am a bad person. For instance, in our relationship I have never gone an entire week without doing something "wrong," ever. If I stay in the relationship, I feel that I am a bad person because I am always doing something wrong (i.e. hurtful, neglectful, irritating, etc.). If, however, I decided to break off the relationship, I am also a horrible person because I am hurting the SO. I did not give him that example, but simply gave him the overall view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot remember what started the next part of the conversation, but be began a diatribe about how all women are sneaky and conniving. I asked why, rather sarcastically, if he felt that way he didn't just choose to be gay. After he rejected that idea, I asked why he felt that way. Apparently all women use s*x to get what they want, as a manipulative tool. He then moved onto an ideal that I find almost too difficult to believe. Women are sneaky and conniving and yet they wonder why men treat them the way they do. I must have said something because he quickly responded that he didn't want to continue the conversation since we never agree on anything. I took a step back from the edge and asked if I could just confirm his meaning. I asked him if he meant that abused women did something to deserve it. I don't think that he actually used the word "yes," but he said something to that general effect. All I could say was, "oh." I just dropped the subject. He said something about not believing in hitting women himself, but being able to understand why other men do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is incredible to me. I suppose, to some extent, this is where the difference in level of education becomes huge. It is great that he is amazing at math (although not advanced stuff like Calculus). Unfortunately, many of his beliefs are archaic and in no way based on current research. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can handle this. I have no idea what I can do to make it better. Break is the week after next. I think we need to sit down and talk. He gives hints periodically that he is not happy. He will not take responsibility for it though. We really need to talk. I am exhausted and nothing makes sense anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sucks sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2095288125020155058?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2095288125020155058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2095288125020155058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2095288125020155058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2095288125020155058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-is-unhappy.html' title='What is Unhappy?'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2054629328465804868</id><published>2009-01-29T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T22:33:16.806-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disclosure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>The right thing to do???</title><content type='html'>I am considering a HUGE step, and I have no idea if it is the right thing to do or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided quite a while ago, during the summer actually, that I was going to keep my life separate from school. When I made that declaration to myself, I had no idea how hard it would turn out to be. Now I am starting to realize. There are times when I am simply having a really rough time and have difficulty concentrating on work. I have to admit that I am extremely high functioning at this point in my life. A few years ago, when I was in what I suppose would be called the "crisis stage," that was definitely not the case. I have accomplished a lot in the way of stability over the past few years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I met with the counselor. We talked about the topic of the last post, how I feel so incredibly alone. I do not actually have friends to whom I can speak about life. I listen and provide advice when I can, but am unable to divulge my own life and ask for support or advice from anyone. I do not wish to minimize the value of either the T or the counselor. They are both amazingly helpful and supportive. However, interactions with them are not on any kind of social level. I see them because they are professionals, and that makes it a very different dynamic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a non-traditional student in a college that has very few. I believe that there are approximately 5 of us, all in different departments (for our respective majors that is), in a school of almost 2,000 students. We range in age from 25 to 70-something. Although it isn't a bad thing, it means that most of my friends are about 18 years old (I do have a few in other classes as old as 22). In the end, however, I do not feel comfortable burdening 18-year-old's with my problems. They won't know what to do or say (yes I know that is an assumption that probably has a few exceptions), and it isn't fair to put something like that onto them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other option is to talk to faculty or staff. A few staff, I can already rule out for various reasons. I realize fully that faculty and staff are not my friends. They are still in a professional role that they leave behind at work. However, as a non-traditional student, I have a slightly different relationship with them than many of my student peers. I feel comfortable talking to them on a more contemporary level. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What this all comes down to is this: I am considering telling my advisor. I don't know how she will take it. I know that I can ask for it to be kept confidential. I'm really not sure if I should. When I first spoke to the counselor, she suggested that I might want to consider telling one of the faculty members that I've developed a good relationship with. At first, that seemed like a really good idea. As I thought about it, however, I started to question whether or not I wanted to introduce that into the relationship. It may complicate things in a way that damages what we have now. For that reason, I thought of telling my advisor. She already knows that my history wasn't exactly beautiful. I also happen to have an appointment with her tomorrow to discuss a paper of mine that I am really struggling with. I have to figure out what to do by then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2054629328465804868?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2054629328465804868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2054629328465804868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2054629328465804868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2054629328465804868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/right-thing-to-do.html' title='The right thing to do???'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2157510583920367759</id><published>2009-01-25T20:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T20:26:29.182-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suicide'/><title type='text'>I'm really all alone</title><content type='html'>I don't think that I have ever before realized quite how alone I am. Actually, that's not true. I have had times before when I felt desperately alone, and truly was in a lot of ways. However, never have I felt quite so alone with so many people in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a significant other...who believes in "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" and can't really handle all of my problems. Hence, I keep a lot to myself around him. Since we live together, I keep a lot to myself even when I am home, the one place I should be able to let go a bit. I started college in the fall and have so many friends, but they are all so young. How do I tell an 18-year-old (almost ten years younger than I am) that I have multiple personalities and an abuse history that I don't really remember? I mean...those things really are at the base of most of the problems that I am having right now. Being in the hospital because of DID/MPD related issues is how I met my friend who committed suicide. Having an abuse history screws up my s*x life and causes a lot of problems in the relationship with the SO. Just about everything else builds off of that in some way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that I had friends to truly talk to. I give them advice, but cannot ask the same from them. I love having one of the absolutely most awesome counselors in the world....and a T who gets it. Unfortunately, however, they are no match for friends, people to simply vent to or talk to and know that I can still hang out with them tomorrow. What support network do I have out in the real world? The answer is that I don't actually. I have a counselor and a T. I keep secrets from everyone else. I guess one could argue that I have secrets from the counselor and T as well, but they are of a different quality. With them, it is a matter of when I will reveal things. With my friends and SO, I will never reveal things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot talk to them about how the SO and I had s*x last night and I am afraid that his mood is going to improve. I cannot explain to them that I think, despite all of the SO's denials, that he still bases his feelings of love and security in our relationship on s*x. How do I tell them that I am so supremely unhappy with him that I have opened up other options for myself in the hopes that I can actually be happy? How do I ask for advice because I am standing on the edge of making an unforgivable mistake? I cannot ask those things of people so young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no one. I sit alone and struggle through these things on my own, and wish to die. It is an easy way out...a cowards way out. I understand that. I know what it does to those left behind. I also know that, with my plan, if I didn't succeed, I may be institutionalized for a VERY long time. It could permanently derail everything that I want for myself. It would be a huge risk to take. If I plan well enough, however, it could be a sure thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like being alone. I want someone. How can I have so many people and be so completely alone? I don't want to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2157510583920367759?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2157510583920367759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2157510583920367759' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2157510583920367759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2157510583920367759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-really-all-alone.html' title='I&apos;m really all alone'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-832870765093392743</id><published>2009-01-25T08:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T08:59:54.263-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>More bad news</title><content type='html'>I will keep this one short. I am sure that there is a lot more to say, but I have a lot of homework to do...and I don't know what to say about everything that has happened this week anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my mother yesterday. We talk every weekend. She told me about the death of someone that occurred on Monday. (I would describe who...but it's really complicated). Well...guess I'll try. It was my step-mother's step-dad who died. I hadn't ever had a chance to spend a lot of time with him, but he was still important to me. Everything always seems to happen at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out a while ago that my grandfather has lung cancer. I don't know if I ever got around to writing about that. He already has COPD and emphysema. He decided to forgo treatment. I can understand why. It wouldn't prolong his life that long and would decrease the quality, even if it worked for a little while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of feel like I have had my "3" (with three bad things happening including finding out that he was sick), but then again...I am waiting for the other shoe to drop when I find out that HE has died too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now it's just a major distraction. I still really do NOT want to deal with anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely unrelated note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SO has been really moody and distant lately. I know that he has been really tired and was fighting off a cold for a long time (and it finally caught up with him), but there was more to it than that. I'm smarter when it comes to things like that than he gives me credit for sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been quite a while since the last instance of s*x...at least 3 weeks I guess. I had a nagging suspicion that it had something to do with that, but he won't ever admit to that. Last night (despite the fact that I have a TON of homework this weekend and really didn't have the time or energy for it) I gave in to make him happy. I am going to wait and see if he is in a better mood today and for the next few days. If he is, and it stays consistent, then I will have really strong evidence that that is still how he assesses the quality of our relationship. I'm a little tired of that pressure. If that is the case, it may really be time for a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I really knew what to do...and how to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-832870765093392743?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/832870765093392743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=832870765093392743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/832870765093392743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/832870765093392743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-bad-news.html' title='More bad news'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4385478619216265409</id><published>2009-01-22T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:39:12.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheppard Pratt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suicide'/><title type='text'>Domino effect</title><content type='html'>How do so many unrelated things come together like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years ago, my friend committed suicide. I knew only her first name, having met her in the hospital. We had a lot in common, and got close very quickly. I was discharged to the day program, and she stayed in the unit. I never knew anyone related to her, no family or friends. I cried when I found out and then moved past it, almost as though it had never happened. This past fall, I started college. I took a class, psych 101, in which we had to write a series of papers. One of the papers involved writing about psychological disorders. The assignment was to find two blogs about a particular disorder and use them to write this paper. I liked the blogs that I had found and decided to keep up with them. Today, I read a recent post (from today) on one of them. The post detailed the suicide of one of the blogger's friends. The details were eerily familiar. We emailed back and forth a few times (all the while I was hoping that the name she used was the person's real name and not a pseudonym). It was the same one that I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has had a more profound effect than I ever could have guessed. It feels like being hit by a bus. I think that I wrote earlier that when one memory comes back (her suicide) another related memory comes back too. They came back earlier this week, but they were distant and not really upsetting. And then, the blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all feels very immediate again, as though her suicide and the "other situation" just happened yesterday instead of 5 years ago. I truly felt like a bus just ran over me, blindsided by the whole thing. How can you ever expect or prepare for something like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I texted a friend that I knew gives great hugs and begged for one...ended up getting a couple. I told her what had happened, lost all of my words (it's the first time I've ever known what it felt like to be at a TOTAL loss for words), and cried. She told me something that she knew I wouldn't want to here. Maybe this happened now because it is time for me to deal with it, since I couldn't then, so that it doesn't keep coming back periodically to haunt me anymore. I hate that idea. I do not WANT to remember. I do not WANT to deal with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to dinner with my friends and tried to take my mind off of it for a little bit. It worked because I have awesome friends. Walking home tonight, I was thinking about another thing that my awesome hugging friend said. She told me that I had to cry. The tears are already done. It's amazing that the tears are already gone. I thought about why I don't cry. It was a crazy series of thoughts. Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't cry because it isn't safe. Why isn't is safe? Because if I cried, then mom would get upset and cry, then I felt bad so I'd stop and make her feel better. I didn't like how it felt to see her cry, so I stopped showing that I was upset ever. But that doesn't explain why I can't cry now. Why can't I cry now? I don't know. Yes you do. Okay, I can't cry now because the SO is Mr. Pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps. He would get mad at me, or be irritated with me at least, if I allowed myself to wallow in grief. I just can't cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started running over all of the people I've lost. I've lost too many for my age. I've lost far too many to suicide. And I also realized that I've never grieved. Someone dies and I cry for a day (that actually means that I cry for 30 minutes to two hours and then am just done). The following day it still bothers me but is more distant. Over time, within about a week, I may have forgotten that the person is gone. If I haven't blocked it out, I have pushed it far enough away that it doesn't really bother me anymore. Is one day enough to grieve? I always just thought that I was good at it and didn't need more time. However, the fact that I feel like I was hit by a bus this evening, and like I am reliving (in equal intensity) that original day when I found out, begs a question. Do I still have to grieve for my friend? And another question, if I've never actually grieved for anyone I have lost, do I have to grieve for them all eventually?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ties into so much...mom, crying, grieving, so many deaths, the "other situation" (and compounding things is that the "other situation" ties into a whole different set of things on top of it all). I don't want to handle this. There is a definite need to cry. I can feel the internal pressure of it. But I do not WANT to deal with this. I want it to go away again. I am exhausted thinking about it. This evening has been absolutely exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish that I knew what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This really sucks...it hurts a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4385478619216265409?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4385478619216265409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4385478619216265409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4385478619216265409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4385478619216265409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/domino-effect.html' title='Domino effect'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1154991777206170256</id><published>2009-01-22T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T17:31:58.360-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheppard Pratt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suicide'/><title type='text'>This hurts...it REALLY REALLY hurts</title><content type='html'>On one of the blogs that I follow, I just read a post. It is about a suicide that happened 5 years ago. The details, they are all TOO familiar. My friend...she died...in the hospital...and...I called...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone said "unavailable"...then we found out downstairs in group...but they wouldn't say who...and wouldn't let us leave the room...but then I did...and went to the phone...and called the unit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked for my friend again...and then another friend, and another, and another...the person said "unavailable" for them all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked who had died...and she said, "the first one you asked for"...and I crumbled onto the floor...and cried...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I block it out...for long periods of time...something else bad happened around then...so they are closely tied together...when I remember one, I remember the other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I remembered the other...and her death came back too...but I put it aside...and then this post...this post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of its details...so similar...except for the name...but that may be a pseudonym...or maybe I knew one of her others...I don't know...I just don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it isn't the same...but what if it is...???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts...this REALLY REALLY hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (but wishing it was someone else and I was far away)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1154991777206170256?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1154991777206170256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1154991777206170256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1154991777206170256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1154991777206170256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-hurtsit-really-really-hurts.html' title='This hurts...it REALLY REALLY hurts'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-6397350079200007940</id><published>2009-01-22T08:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T08:21:42.711-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disclosure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Followers'/><title type='text'>Changes to the way I post</title><content type='html'>There are going to be a few changes in the way I post on this blog. Some posts will continue to be simple updates on school, activities, T, and life in general. However, I have decided (after a conversation with the counselor yesterday) that I am going to start using this blog as a sort of "dump site." There are so many things that come into my head, and I do not feel safe enough to express them. I would write them down in a journal and put it away, but that doesn't work for me anymore (that method broke down after someone read the journal once). The counselor offered to let me email things to her with "Do not read" in the subject line. I trust that she wouldn't read anything without permission, but in a way that is the same as it is now. It all still belongs to me, and me alone. I need for these things to see the light of day, but am terrified of the risks in doing so. I have a good idea that anyone who does read this blog will stop once they read the deepest and darkest of secrets that I keep. However, I still need to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These posts are not up for discussion in T or counseling. I am sure that they will help to fill in gaps for both parties to some extent at least. Although I am completely unwilling to discuss them at present. (I am aware of how "absolutist" of a statement that is, but simply don't care.) Writing this at all is extremely difficult, and I would not get anywhere near this information in counseling or T for a very long time. I hope that they can both be content to simply know things that they otherwise wouldn't, and will not try to push the envelope too much. Blogs are movable. The information doesn't have to stay here if I deem that it simply isn't safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will put a warning at the top of any post that is potentially triggering for those who need to practice self-care. I would ask that anyone who reads here please not use those posts to purposely trigger themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot is going on, so I am sure I will be starting this soon (as soon as I actually have time, which is not often considering my current schedule).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-6397350079200007940?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/6397350079200007940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=6397350079200007940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6397350079200007940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6397350079200007940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/changes-to-way-i-post.html' title='Changes to the way I post'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7295398887678089223</id><published>2009-01-18T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T22:04:24.177-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>Time flies</title><content type='html'>It's hard for me to believe that it is Sunday night already. A few hours ago it was early Monday morning and I was getting ready to go to my first class of the semester. A few minutes ago it was Friday afternoon and I had the whole weekend ahead of me. Now it's nearly over and I sit back and wonder where it went. I guess that it flew by so fast because I stayed busy. Unfortunately, I could use another day or two of being busy to get everything done. I am glad that tomorrow is a holiday so I have an extra day to do work. I'm going to need it. I still have to finish reading and taking notes on one chapter for one class. I have to read and take notes on a chapter for another class. For a third class, I have to read an article and prepare some notes before watching a video on Tuesday. I also have to do some work for my French class tomorrow, and read ahead a bit in two other classes so I can get started drafting papers that will all come due at the same time. It's been insanely busy thus far this weekend. It is only going to get worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have T tomorrow, along with choreography rehearsal at the high school, and events going on at the college for MLK Day. With the work that I still have to do, it is going to be crazy and hectic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends all think I am nuts. I told one of them today that I would see her next weekend. Unfortunately, that really is about what it amounts to. I am going to have no life this semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a little worried about T tomorrow morning. Worried isn't actually the right word, but I don't really know what is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work for me.&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7295398887678089223?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7295398887678089223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7295398887678089223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7295398887678089223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7295398887678089223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-flies.html' title='Time flies'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7898877563014689500</id><published>2009-01-17T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T11:21:02.942-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Relation complication</title><content type='html'>The SO came to me last night and said that he just felt like we really weren't close. Apparently he has felt like that for a while, and it isn't just related to s*x this time. He feels like we are basically just friends and roommates, and wondered aloud if that isn't all that we should be. He asked me, with all of my goals and aspirations in life, if I really feel like I am capable of being in a relationship. I told him yes because I am not willing to wait until I have accomplished every single thing that I want out of life before I try to be in a relationship and have a family, that by then it would be too late. I expressed MY opinion that there are people who do have successful relationships in this type of situation, but that we just might not be one of those couples. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our schedules aren't exactly compatible. He works two jobs; the first is from about 4:30 to 10:30 PM (including travel time) cleaning offices, and his second job is driving a delivery truck overnight. I usually only see him for about an hour from the time he gets home from the first job until the time he has to leave for the second. I also see him a little bit on Saturdays and we can spend all day Sunday together. We also have Monday nights together, but that doesn't stand for much since we're both sleeping. I am in school all day, during the few hours that he is awake each day as well as many during which he sleeps. I can understand where he is coming from, but I also wish that he could see other perspectives. He truly believes that I am not capable of being in a relationship because of my schedule, goals, etc. What he doesn't understand, or maybe doesn't realize, is that many couples with awful schedules, or where both people are full time students, do quite well with each other. I really don't know what the solution to the problem is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He suggested that maybe we should just be roommates and best friends and nothing more, but the conversation was still left unresolved as always. That conversation never leads to resolution (although I hope that it will eventually) because I don't think that either one of us is ready to make that move. It wouldn't be a bad move really. For me there would be no more pressure to be physical in ways that make me uncomfortable. He could pursue other interests and find someone who needed as much involvement as he does, which I think would make him happier. I could engage in activities without feeling guilty, and he wouldn't feel like he has to tolerate my college activities because it would be cruel to make me give it all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, it is a lot of work and time lost to give up now. We are more than three years into this relationship, and some parts of it have been REALLY bad. It is hard to simply throw it all away, when it has finally reached some kind of balance. It is far from good, but the improvement over where it started is so great. It is difficult to think of throwing all of the time and investment away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what is best. In some ways, I think that his suggestion last night really is the right thing to do. In other ways, I would rather not think that way or head in that direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I have no idea what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7898877563014689500?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7898877563014689500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7898877563014689500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7898877563014689500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7898877563014689500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/relation-complication.html' title='Relation complication'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2564249699872125369</id><published>2009-01-16T18:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T19:11:53.611-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disclosure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><title type='text'>Lost, Found, Lost</title><content type='html'>This week has been crazy and exhausting for me. School started back on Monday which was absolutely wonderful. Unfortunately, I have an absolutely nutty schedule. Somehow (I know how, but it still doesn't seem possible)I ended up with 5.5 credits worth of courses (6 classes). I usually structure my life by working as far ahead during the weekends as I can. I get all of the reading for the entire week done, and do as much other work as I can. Unfortunately, in the first week of classes, you don't get all of your assignments for the week until Monday. That means that I have been cramming in work during every spare moment all week long. I was staying up late and getting up early just to try to get it all done. I made it (nearly...with the slight exception of three pages of psychology reading that didn't get done, but that is out of about 100). Tonight, I find myself simply exhausted. It has just been a very long week. I would like to get deep into the work that I have to do for next week tonight, but I have a feeling that I will be in bed by 10 o'clock at the latest. I need the rest. Luckily, Monday is a holiday and I only have one academic class on Tuesday, so I have a little bit of extra time in which to get ahead for next week and caught up for this past week (I had no chance to take notes on anything that I read). I made myself a "To Do" list so that I can keep all of the work that I have to do straight this weekend and upcoming week. I think that I will do that every week because it really does seem to help me. I have one thing completed, and about 20 more to go. I started working on the next reading assignment, but every time I try to really read and focus, I get so tired I can barely keep my eyes on the page. This blog is providing a temporary break until I head back for more reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have discovered that the beginning of February is going to be a little bit crazy. I have three papers due in one week and a fourth due the following Monday. It will definitely be a little bit hectic. I am thrilled that I know that now because it means that I can get a start on all of them and still have time to go to the writing help center. I want better grades on my papers this semester. I did really well in my one class last semester, but the other class could definitely have been better. I have that same professor again this semester, so I know that I have to up my game. I am very glad that the week is over though. I now have a little bit of time to relax (sort of) and sleep (absolutely necessary). Relaxation will probably take the form of curling up with a good textbook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that I got into the classes that I did though. I have all good professors, and really like all of my classes. Some of them will be tougher than others, but I think I am up for the challenge. I sure hope I am anyways. I want to at least keep my GPA this semester, if not increase it. I have a lot of people in my corner though, and that helps a lot. Everyone here pulls for your success, and cares a lot. It's going to be an awesome semester for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I had T on Wednesday. We finally got into this "Internal Family Systems Therapy" that we had been working towards for a few weeks now. "e" was the one who was doing the work with "A" and the T. At the end the T commented to me that she is a very sad girl. The comment really struck me, although it didn't surprise me in the least. I've always known that she was sad. The only thing that I think brings her any small joy at all is dancing, ballet. Even internally I was aware of some deep pain inside of her. The thought that has always come to mind when I wanted to describe her was "broken." Her spirit seems broken in some fundamental way that breaks my heart. She is far too young to be so hurt. The thing that struck me was that someone else saw it. In a lot of ways, I still find that denial of everything hard to shake. It is easy to tell myself that she is just a figment of my imagination and I am seeing her in a way that isn't really there. Maybe I simply want her to be broken because that would mean she was traumatized and it would fit in well in T. Having someone else actually say that she seemed so sad helped me to accept that she really is, and I am not simply trying to project those feelings onto her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that is supposed to happen is that everything is supposed to be kind of contained from me for the time being. (At least, I thought that was the deal in the beginning.) That sort of happened I guess, but then again...not really. After T, I found that I could remember some of the things that she brought up. It was like remembering something that you knew a really long time ago, but had forgotten completely. I just kept thinking, "I used to know this." None of it seemed bad though. I mean, none of it seemed particularly traumatic or awful. It just...was. It existed. It is hard to understand why it hurts her so much, because none of it seems all that bad. Maybe that is because it is contained from me to a point, enough that I can't access the emotions of it all. Maybe it is because I don't really experience those kinds of emotions to any major extent anyways. I'm not really sure. I noticed a little bit yesterday, and more so today, that it is slipping farther away again. I can still remember if I really reach out for it, but it isn't as easy. I am a little bit afraid that it is going to slip totally away again. I suppose if it does, that is okay. I just wish that, since I've found it and it really doesn't bother me, I could hang onto the rememberings. It may not be meant for me yet though. I have no idea where this process is really going or what is going to happen along the way. I'm just holding on for the ride and hoping that it comes out where I'd like it to. In the meantime, I am going to focus on school and wait for Monday when we go back to do it all over again. I think that "e" is going to work again, although I'm really not sure. I guess I'll find out when we get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2564249699872125369?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2564249699872125369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2564249699872125369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2564249699872125369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2564249699872125369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost-found-lost.html' title='Lost, Found, Lost'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-475375828664224000</id><published>2009-01-11T19:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:15:34.386-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='At home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pets'/><title type='text'>Cold and hot, getting ready</title><content type='html'>Our heat went out the night before last. We have those old fashioned radiators. They work great and keep the house toasty...usually. I woke up during the night on Friday night and noticed that it was pretty cold in the house, but I was too tired and lazy to climb out of bed and turn up the thermostat. In the morning, I turned up the heat, but nothing seemed to be happening. I went to dance at 9 o'clock. When I got home, it wasn't any warmer...and had probably gotten a lot colder. It was 60 degrees inside (and 29 outside) when the SO finally called the guy who takes care of the building. We tried a few things, and at 4 o'clock it was apparent that nothing was really working. They called in a furnace guy who had to replace out thermostat. Finally, we had a warm house again. Warmth is good considering how much I absolutely hate to be cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the day trying to get the house in order because I go back to school tomorrow. I did three loads of laundry, cleaned out the fishbowl (I am fish-sitting for a friend), organized the bedroom and kitchen a bit. I also had to go through my backpack and get it organized again. I was amazed at how much trash I pulled out of it, and things that I had accumulated during the semester but really didn't need to carry. Now it's organized. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove over for dinner this evening, and managed to catch up with a couple of friends. That was cool. I also went and looked at the zip cars. I have one reserved for tomorrow (and as it turns out it is the one that has NOT had the snow cleaned off of it). I wanted to see where they were and just check in. I'm going to go over first thing in the morning before I eat breakfast or go to my first class and clean it off. Once I get out of my last class, I have exactly 30 minutes (including getting out of class and to the car) to make a solid 30 minute drive. I don't think it's going to happen anyways , but having to clean off and defrost the car would set me even further behind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was up until about 5:30 am. I don't really know why. I've been staying up progressively later and later.  That HAS to stop tonight. I have to be up at about 6:30 so that I can be over at the college at 7 for breakfast, or close to it anyways. I may have to drug myself to sleep tonight. I have a couple more hours until then though, so maybe I'll get tired. I did only sleep about 4 hours last night though. Maybe I'll get lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully school goes well for me tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-475375828664224000?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/475375828664224000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=475375828664224000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/475375828664224000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/475375828664224000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/cold-and-hot-getting-ready.html' title='Cold and hot, getting ready'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-5521521569968807127</id><published>2009-01-09T23:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T00:31:43.989-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Volunteering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Cool day, some bad news, and feeling yucky</title><content type='html'>Today was a pretty awesome day, although a little bitter-sweet. All semester, I have been spending a couple of hours every Friday at a local preschool. Even when the semester ended and I no longer had to go, I kept it up anyways because I enjoyed it so much. Today was my last day. I go back to school next week and just don't have the time to go anymore. I'll have to go to a school again for a class that I am in, but it won't be preschool this time. There simply aren't enough hours in the week to go to all of my classes and to two different placements in the community. Although it was a really fun day with the kids today, it was sad because I knew that this would be my last day. One of the little girls, E, didn't want me to leave today. I had to promise to come back and visit on my school vacations and days off before she would let me leave. I'll really miss the kids. They were really awesome to spend time with. I said all of my goodbyes, and was told to come and visit any time. It's nice to know that I'll be welcomed back with open arms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I went to another school. Back before the start of the holiday break, one of the faculty at the college sent out an email looking for someone to help a local private high school with a theater production. I had just done this same show at another theater last spring, so I was already familiar with it when I responded. I went and spent one day with some of the kids before they all went home for Christmas, and had a fun time. Today was my first official day with them though. We actually started working on the show. It was a blast. They are an absolutely awesome group. I'm always nervous in situations like that. I don't like standing up in front of people, and I don't have a whole lot of confidence. Luckily, once I got going, it wasn't so bad. I threw a TON at them today during the rehearsal, and didn't expect them to handle it nearly as well as they did. They REALLY impressed me today. I'm going back on Monday, and cannot wait. I'll have to work on some more things for them for then. We'll probably stick to the same number that we were working on today, but will review and actually get places for everything. It's going to be a lot of fun over the next couple of months working with them all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I had a sudden awful pain in my back. My first thought was that it might be a kidney infection because I has symptoms of a UTI early in the week. They went away though. I decided to "wait and see" though because the movement that I did today could be responsible for the pain. I'll wait to see if other symptoms appear or if the pain subsides within a couple of days. If I get sicker or the pain gets worse, then I'll go see someone about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, not a bad day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, when I talked to my mom last weekend, she gave me some really bad news. My grandfather has lung cancer. Since he also has emphysema and COPD, he's decided not to have it treated. It wouldn't prolong his life that much anyways, even if they got it into remission. I feel like I should be more upset about it than I am, but I've never been close to him. He is an emotionally and verbally abusive a**h***. He isn't even truly my grandfather. He is just my grandmother's third or fourth husband. I was never really close to my grandparents. My great grandparents raised my mother, one aunt, and one uncle. I visited them every Sunday for dinner (nearly) while they were alive. I was extremely close to them. Their deaths were hard for me, although I'm not sure I truly ever grieved for either one. Hearing about my grandfather, I'm sorry that it is happening to him, but don't have any real feelings about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All for today I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-5521521569968807127?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/5521521569968807127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=5521521569968807127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5521521569968807127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5521521569968807127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/cool-day-some-bad-news-and-feeling.html' title='Cool day, some bad news, and feeling yucky'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7464605577797779647</id><published>2009-01-05T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T16:57:52.578-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pets'/><title type='text'>A bad day, but it didn't start that way</title><content type='html'>Although the morning started a little off, it wasn't really that bad. I had to take the SO out to pick up a moving truck so he could help a friend move. Unfortunately, I forgot about that and decided to sleep in a bit. By the time I got up and got ready (and he finished getting ready), we only had 20 minutes to get clear across town and for me to get back to T. It had snowed, just a dusting but the car still had to be cleaned off. We had 16 minutes to make the trip. I walked into T eight minutes late. I cannot stand to be late to anything, so that really bothered me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I got over it when I realized that the T understood and wasn't mad or upset with me. We talked about how I haven't really been sleeping well. That's usually due to nightmares, but I am not remembering any. We also talked about how this might be that kind of situation anyways (even though I'm not remembering) because the other things that usually come along with the nightmares are happening. It's a little different this time, which makes me question if it is actually mine this time. Unfortunately, the most I could do was allude to it. I told him that we won't cover that for a very long time. There are just some topics that are completely off limits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After T, I had to run some errands. I had to make an exchange at one store, and pick up cat food at another. I also had to stop off at the college to check on my financial aid for this coming semester and to inquire about books. When I was done everything (it didn't take as long as I thought it would which was great), I went home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked on the fish in the tank (we had three goldfish) and I could immediately tell that they were sick. They had something called ick. It's a fish parasite that can be deadly. I put the medicine into the tank, but could see that one of the fish was already dead (my fish as it turned out). I was hoping to save the other two, but didn't hold out much hope. They had gone from no visual symptoms to coated in white fuzz overnight. The other two died over the next two hours. I know the SO thinks that I am silly, but I get really attached to fish. I feel bad because if I had read the back of the "ick medicine" box a week ago, I would have recognized the early signs. They can be mistaken for other things...like normal fish behavior. My fish had gotten caught between a tank decoration and the side of the tank a few weeks back. Once that happened, she started having problems and spent a lot of time floating near the top of the tank. That happens to be an early sign of ick, but I thought that she had damaged her swim bladder when she got trapped. Last night, I saw a tiny white spot on her eye, and considered putting the medication into the tank, but I decided to wait until this morning and see how they were doing. That was the biggest mistake, and I had to find my fish dead and watch the others die slowly because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SO has decided that he doesn't have the time right now to really take care of fish, so he isn't getting any more right now. I hope that he doesn't get any more for quite a while. It's just too hard when they die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He disposed of my fish because she died first, but I had to dispose of the second one. Now, he has gone to work. He asked me to turn everything off and dispose of the third fish. It's really hard. He doesn't expect me to clean out the tank, but I can't leave it sitting like that. I'll end up scrubbing it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the day didn't start out too badly, but it's sure gone downhill from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss ya Spot, Marley, and Chip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7464605577797779647?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7464605577797779647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7464605577797779647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7464605577797779647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7464605577797779647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/bad-day-but-it-didnt-start-that-way.html' title='A bad day, but it didn&apos;t start that way'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3438541344151983440</id><published>2009-01-01T18:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T18:12:41.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not sure anymore</title><content type='html'>I do not feel okay. I am torn between what is real and what isn't...what is mine (technically it's all mine in a weird sort of way) and what doesn't actually belong to me. I could use the rule that only the things that makes sense to me belong to me, but that might not be true. Could what I know about myself be false? That would make it possible for a lot of this stuff that doesn't seem to belong to me to be mine. If, however, I have a reasonably accurate picture of myself, then so much doesn't make sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I like the things that I do sometimes. They make no sense within my own personal reality. The only way to make sense of it is to explain it as someone else's interest, or to concede that maybe I know nothing about myself and it really is mine. (For that to be true, I would have to be a different age, gender, and other things.) I can't bring myself to admit that I am that horribly different from the way that I perceive myself. I simply cannot do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what I'm trying to say. It's so vague, I'll be lucky if I understand it later, let alone anyone else trying to make sense of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3438541344151983440?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3438541344151983440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3438541344151983440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3438541344151983440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3438541344151983440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2009/01/not-sure-anymore.html' title='Not sure anymore'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7386496886439120968</id><published>2008-12-26T23:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T00:23:08.815-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eating Disorder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Thoughts of Suicide</title><content type='html'>Yes, the title really does say, "Thoughts of Suicide." It's been on my mind quite a bit lately. Now, that could be because I am on break so I am not keeping busy and my mind has decided to occupy itself. It does that you know, occupies itself. All of those extraneous mental processes have to be working on something. When I am not keeping them all busy enough, they play with the goo. "The goo" is the term coined to refer to all of the nasty stuff that I can't remember at will and have been (and continue to be) running from as fast and as far as is humanly possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself preoccupied with nothing inside of my head, having difficulty keeping my grasp on reality, and being generally unmotivated to do anything. A long time ago (really only about 5 or 6 years ago, but that's still about 20% of my life) I stopped taking all of the meds I was on and kept them in an empty Kool Aid container. I was in some program where they only gave me a days worth at a time, but I'd been stockpiling for a long time and the container was nearly full. I don't know who said it, but one of the others told the T or the P-doc about it, and I had to rush home to flush everything before the meds person got there and found them. I made it in time. They sent a crisis team who searched my house. I kept one dose of all of my meds and put them in a drawer. When the crisis team got there and asked me about it, I told them that I had missed a dose once and had decided to keep it as a spare in case my meds person ever didn't show up. I told them right where it was, and they decided that there was no crisis. I'm such a damned good liar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped taking my meds a couple of months ago. When I started school, I found that I kept forgetting to take them. One of them is dangerous if you forget doses, because it can have some really bad side effects (including death) if you stop and start it. The dose has to be worked up very slowly to prevent a deadly adverse reaction. I just decided not to keep missing a day or two and then taking one, that it was too dangerous and not worth it. I was thinking today about how much medication I have in the house, everything from narcotics to tranquilizers to bi-polar meds, as well as a bunch of over the counter stuff. I doubt it would be enough to kill me, and getting that much would take some time. Luckily, I have a bunch of refills on all of my scripts (the psych ones anyways) and could easily GET enough. It might be time consuming to collect enough medication, but it wouldn't be hard. And it would give me time to accumulate more over-the-counter stuff too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is all of that on my mind? I have no idea. Cutting has been another common thought, as well as starvation. It's a serious consideration right now. The only thing that prevents the cutting is the knowledge that I really can't hide it. I mean, I probably could to an extent, but the risk of discovery is HUGE! The SO's pretty observant, and there's a really big chance that he would spot it. I don't want to even think about that conflict. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starvation is a bit easier. So long as food disappears, he doesn't need to know whether or not I actually consume it. He sleeps pretty much all day long, and is at work all evening and night. It's not like it would be hard to deceive him on that count. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why self-destruction is on my mind so much right now. I really wish that it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is in three more days, Monday. We are going to "do something" with one of the others or a memory or some such thing. I am still scared. I don't want to go. I want it to be tomorrow to get it over with. I'd actually rather be dead than any of the above options. Life sucks, then you die. I don't know who said that, but whoever it was is (or was) brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7386496886439120968?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7386496886439120968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7386496886439120968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7386496886439120968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7386496886439120968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/thoughts-of-suicide.html' title='Thoughts of Suicide'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2178832601156711392</id><published>2008-12-25T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T20:26:35.905-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Title: "Having a Merry Christmas" (OR Little Girl)</title><content type='html'>Well, Merry Christmas. It was a really nice day. As much as the SO hates shopping, and resisted shopping for Christmas, he did a really good job. Of course, I made it a bit easier when I went to the store with my digital camera and took pictures of everything that I wanted. I also gave him a list with directions to all of the items. He admitted to actually having fun doing it yesterday. He was happy with his present and stocking stuffers too. That really makes my day. I enjoy giving things to other people, even more than getting gifts. Although, I have to admit that it is a lot of fun to get things too. One of the things that I got was a new bedding set...complete with bed skirt, sheets, pillow cases, and a comforter. I can't wait to put it on the bed tonight. The SO works tonight, so I'll get to sleep in the new bedding for the first time all by myself. And it will be a nice surprise to see it on the bed when he gets home in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also cooked dinner. I've been cooking for the holidays for a couple of years now, since I was about 25. I really enjoy doing it. My Great-grandmother was English, so I like to do an English Christmas dinner. It's what I grew up with. I bought a really expensive rib roast (my first) and spent most of the day cooking it. I had to make my apple pie this morning and send it over to the SO's kids house for them to bake it because our oven is screwy and you can't set it to an exact temperature...it's quite the guessing game. I also made Yorkshire pudding for the first time. It was a huge meal, and everyone was so full, they didn't even have room for desert. That just means that the SO and I have a whole apple pie all to ourselves, along with all of the leftovers (which currently fill my fridge).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everyone had left (the SO's kids and younger siblings come over to eat with us), he decided that he had to have s*x again...the first time being late last night/early this morning, depending on how you look at it. The first time, it went quickly enough and I went to bed. Unfortunately, he had to thank me again this morning. He has no idea how much that bugs me, and I don't know how to tell him. I have this sense that maybe I have told him that before, but I can't really grasp it...whether or not it really happened, and if so, when it happened. He also told me that it was "better," which means that he felt connected. It really bothers me that he thinks that I really enjoy it once we get started. I truly don't. I'm good at faking enjoyment. I don't enjoy it and would happily avoid it forever if I could. He has no idea. This evening he used that familiar phrase that makes me want to scream. It seemed to go on forever (which I hate because I want it to be over as soon as humanly possible), and he kept saying things like "come on little girl," and "that's a good girl." I HATE when he does that. It makes my skin crawl and makes me want to scream. I have no idea how to broach that subject though, so I keep it to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of work to do over the next few days. I can't wait until Monday when I go back to T. Having an entire week off was good, and bad. Nice to have a break, but miserable to be "waiting." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...merry Christmas...another one gone by... Wish I had the money to go Christmas shopping after Christmas. The sales tomorrow will be crazy, and I could get a major head start for next year. Oh well. Nothing to be done about it. Holidays wiped me out this year. I'll just have to start my shopping next month, and hope for some lasting good sales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2178832601156711392?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2178832601156711392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2178832601156711392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2178832601156711392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2178832601156711392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/title-having-merry-christmas-or-little.html' title='Title: &quot;Having a Merry Christmas&quot; (OR Little Girl)'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7042530578189131354</id><published>2008-12-23T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T01:13:18.733-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Depression setting in</title><content type='html'>I find that the longer I am on break from school, the more depressed I am becoming. I find it hard to drag myself off of the couch, and making food to eat seems like a hassle that isn't worth the trouble. Two nights in a row I was up until 4 am and then had to get up early the same morning. I really don't know what's going on. I am more spacey and irritable and less tolerant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could pinpoint exactly what is going on. I'll have to take some time tomorrow to try meditation and see if I can get some internal communication going. If it isn't working, maybe I'll collage. That used to work really well when we needed to communicate (before we learned how to write back and forth and then to talk inside). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like feeling this way, anxious and edgy, depressed, spacey, disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost Christmas. I finished my shopping today, and handled all of the stocking stuff. I would like to get a table top fountain for the kitties, but that's yet to be seen. All of the necessities (including toys for the kitties) are done now. I am thrilled. In a few days, it will all be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7042530578189131354?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7042530578189131354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7042530578189131354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7042530578189131354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7042530578189131354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/depression-setting-in.html' title='Depression setting in'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3949693877879929211</id><published>2008-12-21T00:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T00:42:27.278-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Website'/><title type='text'>No idea</title><content type='html'>I worked on the website more today. I decided to try to put together another page. It's getting easier now, but keeping all of the tables inside of tables inside of tables straight is still a major challenge. (The link for the site is over to the right under "Our Favorite Links." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really trying to get on top of things. I need to find a CD so that I can start work on the choreography that I need to get done by the first full week of January. I also need to get back to looking at that French book. I have to really buckle down and study it so that when I get to level 2 French I am not completely lost. I also need to do some research for a show that I will be costuming for this coming summer. It's going to be a big job, and I need to use all of the time I can get. I also still want to spend some time working on the website. If I have any time left over (yeah-right) I'm just going to relax, read some good books, and chat with friends on the computer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't sleep last night, and didn't fall asleep until 4:30 this morning. I had to be up again at 8. Needless to say, it caught up with me this afternoon and I crashed, hard. I fell asleep around 4 o'clock and slept until about 8:45 pm. Of course, that was after I went and saw a performance this afternoon. I came home, worked for a bit on graphics for the website, and then laid down after I found myself nearly passing out on the couch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, even though I slept for most of the evening, I am tired again. I am going to look for the CD and go to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night moon,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3949693877879929211?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3949693877879929211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3949693877879929211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3949693877879929211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3949693877879929211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-idea.html' title='No idea'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2605731179351642085</id><published>2008-12-19T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T00:16:54.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-hatred'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disclosure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eating Disorder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><title type='text'>Some new stuff</title><content type='html'>I did a lot of work today on my website. I decided to link it to the blog, but to do that I had to completely strip it of anything identifiable. There wasn't much, and no one (with the possible exception of the SO) could have figured it out by itself. In coordination with the blog though, it would have been more revealing. I also added another page, one for the twins. The website has a bunch of resources and links, but it is also a place for each one to have a page of their own (a few share, but there are good reasons for those). The site is also a place where we can share our artwork, poetry, and creative writing. I hope that I can continue to put some work into it over break, checking the links and adding pages for more of the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started with the current T, I gave him a list of all of the alters, but without any names. I coded them by the first letter of their names and a number because many share the same first initial with at least one other. So, there are four with names that start with "A" and they were listed as "a1" through "a4" for him. We've been working together for a few months now, and I still haven't gotten around to really sharing names. Granted, it isn't exactly my place to share them, but they would really help at this point. He only knows a couple, two or three I think. I guess this is just another way of trying to open up so that we can make some progress and finally get somewhere for once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I know that I have to push through this, I really do NOT want to. I want to sit in my blissful ignorance until I die. Unfortunately, that is only a fantasy. There is no blissful ignorance. The beginning of remembering shattered that illusion completely. The counselor told me that my attempts to "keep the faith" with the T process show growth, strength, and determination. I just think that I'm crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much fear associated with this. I've never approached anything traumatic, or anything that any of the others know or hold (whether it happens to be traumatic or not). I don't know how to handle it. I really don't know what to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, linking the website to this will help, at least a little. I'm not really sure how it will help. Maybe it will help the T to understand us a bit better. Maybe it will help me to trust that the world isn't an awful place by revealing yet another piece of myself. Maybe I'm just desperate for anything to work to help me feel better. I don't even know anymore. I'm trying to have faith, but I don't believe that "better" is even possible anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely different note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not eating much anymore. I don't know why I am suddenly eating so little now that I am on break. I find that I am barely hungry. When I do get hungry, I can't figure out what I want to eat so I just wait it out. I remember now how uncomfortable, and wonderful, that empty feeling is. I try to make sure that I eat because I need to, but I feel vindicated and accomplished when I can wait out the hunger. I usually give in the second time around. That means that I usually eat a small breakfast and a small dinner, but manage to deny lunch. Right now, I'm not quite so worried because my appetite is actually decreased. Some days I really just don't get hungry. I wish that was everyday. I know how careful I have to be, what a slippery slope this is. I know how easy it is to for me to go from enjoying the feeling and being comfortable in control to complete chaos. I don't want to go back to that place, but then again...I really do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all comes down to life and death. I don't want to live anymore. I Do Not Want to live anymore. I hate the way this feels. I hate everything. I hate s*x. I hate relationships. I hate pressure and stress and anxiety and nightmares and terror and people and driving and shopping and expectations. I cannot continue to be this way. I WILL not continue to be this way. I will not do this, life, living. I refuse. I want out. I wish that my mother was dead. If she were dead, I could die too. WHY WON'T SHE FUCKING DIE!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This better not be bad. I don't know how much I can take. I really hope that this doesn't kill me. I have a bad feeling it will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2605731179351642085?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2605731179351642085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2605731179351642085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2605731179351642085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2605731179351642085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/some-new-stuff.html' title='Some new stuff'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4581517892152623476</id><published>2008-12-19T00:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T00:23:33.609-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-consciousness'/><title type='text'>I finally understand</title><content type='html'>I think I've finally figured out what all of this anxiety and stress is about. First, let me say that the SO has noticed that I'm "different" lately. I took a look and realized that I have been more withdrawn and distant recently. It's taken me some time, but I have an idea why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the last session with the T, we figured out who it looks like the core self is. I'm a little relieved because it is one that I know and feel comfortable with (at least mostly). At the same time, it makes me nervous because I have no idea how he is going to get things to work with a core self who can't talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also just plain scares because this will be the first time that I, well...we, actually attempt anything resembling trauma work. With the first real T (first real one that knew anything about DID when I was an adult anyways), she tried to force me to do it when things in the system were really unstable, and we knew the timing was bad and quit. The next T was awesome, but we spent so much time on stabilization that we didn't really get to anything trauma related, not that I really remembered anything then. Life then was just a mess and it was one current crisis after another. There wasn't time to do trauma work even if we had wanted to do it then. After that, I moved to another state, and couldn't continue to work with her. There hasn't been a good T since I've been in this state for one reason or another. (One fell asleep during sessions; another was simply clueless; the third here had serious boundary issues and I ended up knowing more about his life and issues, as well as those of his other clients, than he knew about my life; yet another was really good, but had ABSOLUTELY NO experience with DID at all.) In short, it's been difficult here. I finally have one that I am really trying to force myself to work with. I mean, I know that he's worthwhile, but I don't trust easily. Diving in like this is simply terrifying. And now, we are looking at doing real "work" the week after Christmas. I don't know if I'm ready for that. I don't know what the others hold. I mean, I know a little...very little, but I don't think that I really WANT to know what they hold. I remember a little, and it's horrible. I don't want to know the rest. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW THE REST! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really terrified of that session after break. I have no idea what he's going to uncover. If I had some idea, it might be easier, but I don't have any clue at all! What am I going to do? I wonder if there is some way not to remember. I find that I am remembering more and more as some of the worst of the walls come down. Some of the more recent walls that recreated total blocks are a good bit more transparent now. That's a good thing, in that I am aware of more during T. Some of it I find distant and dream-like, but usually at least some of it becomes clearer later. So, what all of that rambling means is that I am afraid of knowing what goes on when he tries to work with someone or something. I am more aware now, and know that increases my chances of remembering whatever we work on, and I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In reality, I do want to know. I just have no idea what's there, and don't want to be crushed by something unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am afraid of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4581517892152623476?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4581517892152623476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4581517892152623476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4581517892152623476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4581517892152623476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-finally-understand.html' title='I finally understand'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-311595308353606801</id><published>2008-12-15T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T23:33:29.843-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends and family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><title type='text'>What a day!</title><content type='html'>This is complicated, but I'll try my best to explain without being too confusing. A friend of mine has two grown daughters. They take care of their younger brother and sister. The younger brother has been having a lot of problems lately (he has a lot anyways, but they have gotten exponentially worse over the past few weeks). He has been caught stealing twice and been charged with theft. Today, he disappeared for several hours and we had to go out searching for him. He is now on a new "rules system." Well, he is simply on one, which he never really had been before. It's extremely strict, but he agreed to it. I don't know if it is going to work, and if it doesn't, then he'll be going to a hospital. He really has a lot of problems. The whole situation worries me, but I'm trying to think the best. There isn't any way to see into the future. All we can do is wait and hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to that, I have an appointment tomorrow to meet with a woman (wow...what a vague statement) about working on a theater production with a local high school. I just got internet hooked back up today (haven't had it since the move), so I haven't really had any time to research the kinds of things that I want to do when I meet some of the kids tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finals are over, and the stress still doesn't seem to back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had T today, although it seems like a week ago after everything that's happened today. It was, however, today. It seems as though the T is satisfied that we really did identify the "core self." The one we found doesn't talk, but it isn't because of any kind of trauma. I think she doesn't talk because keeping things quiet is just one of her jobs. Maybe it is easier to make sure that no one else says anything that they aren't supposed to if she doesn't have to worry about monitoring herself. She has the right personality, although I only ever considered her to be half of a whole. I wonder how the core self can have such a haunted twin. The other one is a historian too, but holds knowledge of all of the emotions. Maybe knowing that has been harder to hold. Maybe the twin was traumatized somehow, but I don't really believe that. I don't know why she is the way that she is, but it is hard for me to imagine "A" being the core self and "L" being such a haunted shell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end though, the test is yet to come. Next week we are supposed to try working with a part I think. How can she work with another part when she can't talk? How is she going to communicate with them and the T at the same time. She has to write to the T. Speaking of, we need to start taking paper to T so that we don't have to take his notepad. Anyways, she can communicate with others inside more easily, but outside it is more cumbersome. I really don't know how this is going to work, but I'll try to have faith that it will work out somehow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now a lot about T is based on faith. It was hard for me to believe that there was a core self at all, let alone the one that was found. It's hard to believe that any of this will work. I try to believe, but things haven't worked for so long. I mean, things inside have been working fairly well for quite a while, but T hasn't worked for such a long time. It's so hard to trust people, and diving into the process like I did...the real basis of trust wasn't there. I hope that it will continue to form until we can really get into the depths of things, but I don't know. I struggle with things. I struggle with trust and opening myself up to someone I really don't know yet. But, what it all comes down to is faith. I know that I can have faith in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-311595308353606801?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/311595308353606801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=311595308353606801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/311595308353606801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/311595308353606801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-day.html' title='What a day!'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3210449368366416903</id><published>2008-12-13T19:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T19:49:25.427-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nightmare'/><title type='text'>A nightmare</title><content type='html'>It's been an exhausting week. I went to dance this morning, and then had to run to the store to pick up a cleaning cloth and repair kit (just in case) for my new glasses. When I got home, I spent a little while talking to the SO, and then played around on the computer for a while. I was falling asleep at the keys, so I decided to lay down for a while. That's significant just because I never nap unless I am absoultely drop dead exhausted, and this was my second nap this week. (I also took one on Tuesday after unpacking for most of the day.) During my nap today though, I had a nightmare. It woke me up at 6 o'clock, so I just got up and came over to dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the dream (The names have been changed to protect MY identity ^_^):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a huge theater with some of my friends. J.T. was standing on the stage putting down tape marks as we moved through the scene. I am assuming from that, that it was during the Tech Rehearsal. I was running a number in navy dresses with black heels with some other women, including Lauren and Donna, as well as some girl with red hair that I don't know. While running this number, we made a change so that I came out later than the others and joined them at the front of the stage for the final pose. When we tried it that way the first time, I put my elbow out for Donna to hook her arm through it, but hit her chest instead. I apologized and she said that it was fine. I then asked J.T. to put down a tape mark for where I should stand so that I wouldn't hit Donna again. He said that he would take care of it in a moment. The other women and I went back stage to a huge room with costumes, props, and set pieces from floor to ceiling along the walls and on a huge stand in the center of the room. I was looking around at the various completed and "in process" costumes for the show. I saw some that were referred to as the "Disney Princesses," and remembered someone telling me that we were doing that one with each of us being a different character. Lauren came over and mentioned that she didn't want to be Glinda (the good witch), but thought that she might have to because she had the right shade of red hair. I told her to put it up and suggest to the other girl that she let her hair down so they would see her hair. It was also the right shade of red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point, someone realized that we needed something, but I don't know who, or what we needed. I offered to drive us to the city. Lauren, Margaret(two girls I dance with), and Nancy (a girl I know from school) went with me. We drove through the city, but it looked nothing like the city that it was named for in real life. There was ice on the roads, but not a lot. When we got into downtown, the brakes on the car stopped working. We managed to survive flying through a couple of intersections, and I kept trying to get us onto roads with the steepest uphill climbs I could to slow us down. My friends were screaming at me to hit the brakes, but my foot was already to the floor and there was nothing else that I could do. At that point, Lauren was in the front seat. Eventually, the fourth intersection that we came to was a "T" instead of a 4-way. We couldn't go straight. We had to go left or right. There was a hill in front of us with a service station/gas station on it. I tried to turn right, but couldn't make it. The car hit a patch of ice, and at that speed, it just flew. We landed nose-down over a mini cliff sitting near the top of the hill. Nancy was in the front seat by then, and had been hurt. I had been thrown clear of the car somehow and was a good 20 feet away unhurt. I ran to the service station area (like the inside of a gas station)and, although the door was unlocked, found it deserted. There seemed to be an apartment attached to the store, so I knocked on the door and was told to come in. I opened it to a a dusty older man sitting on a ratty old couch watching television on a very old TV. I told him what had happened and that I needed help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I remember turning and seeing a newer looking gas station across the road, but it seemed so far away. Then I woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have dreams like that a lot, where the breaks give some, or start and stop working intermittently, or stop working completely. I hate those dreams. The terrify me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All for now. Should have internet again on Monday, so this can start being a bit more regular again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3210449368366416903?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3210449368366416903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3210449368366416903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3210449368366416903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3210449368366416903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/nightmare.html' title='A nightmare'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-7009326883242445354</id><published>2008-12-12T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T18:34:44.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The last day</title><content type='html'>Today was the last day of school before break. I had one final and it really sucked. It was really difficult and there was material that seemed to come out of left field. At least it is over. I can still feel residual stress from it, but I am hoping that a hot bath this evening and a good night's sleep will wash it away. I think I'll feel better in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got my glasses today. I don't know if I mentioned that I needed them. I had an eye Dr.'s appointment last Friday, and was told that I needed glasses. I went and put in the order for them that day, and they came in today. It's absolutely amazing how clear everything is. You don't realize how blurry everything is until it is suddenly clear. That's how it worked for me. It's really awesome! I like my glasses too. They are super cute. The SO thinks that they make me look even younger, which is kind of a problem considering that he looks his age (older) and I look a lot younger than mine anyways. He thinks people will start wondering if he is a pedophile, ha ha. I don't think that I look that much like a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't have internet at home, but it should be turned on Monday. (I sure hope anyways, because I'm going nuts not being able to post regularly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also bought the SO's Christmas present today while I was out picking up my glasses. He's going to flip when he sees it. He has no idea what's coming. That's a good thing though. I hate giving presents when people have an idea of what they are getting. It takes all of the fun out of it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am on break for FOUR WEEKS, I have time to study French (in preparation for next semester), do some internal work (desparately needed), and work on the house (to finish getting it organized and decorated for the holiday). I have a lot to do, but it will be relaxing (I hope).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that's it for now,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-7009326883242445354?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/7009326883242445354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=7009326883242445354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7009326883242445354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/7009326883242445354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/last-day.html' title='The last day'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4159703604786312069</id><published>2008-12-11T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T17:45:06.945-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><title type='text'>Clarification and stuff</title><content type='html'>I decided that I should clarify my post from earlier a little bit. When the counselor and I discussed emotions, it was in relation to one particular situation or memory or something (I cannot remember exactly what). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have some emotions...namely fear and guilt. In addition, I know that some of the others have other emotions...including rage, sadness, and shame (among others I'm sure). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sick lately. It's probably due to stress. My stomach is just in knots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay...that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4159703604786312069?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4159703604786312069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4159703604786312069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4159703604786312069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4159703604786312069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/clarification-and-stuff.html' title='Clarification and stuff'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1752551695866091787</id><published>2008-12-11T13:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:43:41.823-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>A crazy week</title><content type='html'>First, I have no internet where I live right now. It won't be back on for another few days, so I am stuck using the computers at school whenever I have time. The reason for this insanity? We moved this weekend (actually Sunday and Monday), and don't have the cable or internet hooked up yet. Also, this week is finals week. It makes life kind of crazy right now. My first final was today, and I have another one tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a T session in which we searched for the core self. He accidently "tripped" over a recurring nightmare that I have had for years. He also identified...although most here don't believe it...one who seems to have all of the characteristics listed. I don't see how it's possible, but I'm willing to try to look past the improbalities to see the possibilities. Maybe it's right, and we can start moving forward. Hmmm...we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a meeting with the counselor on Wednesday as well. We didn't really get anywhere. I guess with all of the moving and studying going on, there hasn't really been time for much else to happen. I always feel bad on days when I go in there and don't have much to say that is "work" related. I feel like I'm wasting her time, and that it really isn't fair to her. (Although I know that she would disagree with that.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did talk a little about my beliefs that I am an awful person and conviction that no one else knows the truth. I suppose that she and the T are right, in that I cannot assume that they know nothing since they have no information on which to base beliefs. I do like the fact that I am usually able to step outside of myself and look objectively at subjective situations. I had to admit to the counselor though that this MIGHT not be one of those situations. I reserve judgement until all of the evidence has rolled in. I still think that I am right, but am willing to consider other possibilities if there is enough evidence in support of their opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also talked about the recurring dream, and my lack of emotions. Is it truly a lack of feeling? Or is it just burried? I guess there's really not much way to know right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that I have a lot more to write...but I can't think of it now. It will just have to wait until the next time I have access to the internet. Who knows when that will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1752551695866091787?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1752551695866091787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1752551695866091787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1752551695866091787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1752551695866091787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/crazy-week.html' title='A crazy week'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1232207140910644009</id><published>2008-12-02T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T23:01:40.003-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injuries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>No idea what to call this</title><content type='html'>The whole "title" thing is difficult for me. Other blogs I read have such fun titles. I am just clueless and clumsy. Speaking of clumsy, I slipped and fell on the ice this morning. I had actually nearly fallen three times before. I guess on the fourth time, my luck just ran out. I went down and my left knee twisted behind me. I landed in a hurdler's stretch, the kind that you aren't supposed to do anymore because twisting your knee like that isn't healthy for it. Well, I fell into that position and it really hurt. Not only did I bruise it when I banged it on the asphalt, but I also sprained the ligaments on the inside of my knee. It's swollen and it kills to move it at all. If it isn't any better within a couple of days, then the college medical people are going to send me to a locan orthopaedics office to see if anything worse is going on. UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was good. I see the counselor in the morning. I hope that my knee feels better. I'm going to double up on pain meds because prescription strength aleve doesn't even take the edge off of it. I still want to take it though because it is an anti-inflammatory. I hope that I can get a good night's sleep. It's time for bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1232207140910644009?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1232207140910644009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1232207140910644009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1232207140910644009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1232207140910644009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-idea-what-to-call-this.html' title='No idea what to call this'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1958001400841407856</id><published>2008-12-01T22:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T13:59:51.020-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forbidden question'/><title type='text'>A rough and good day</title><content type='html'>The day started out with T this morning. We talked about random nothingness, like school papers and upcoming finals, for the first few minutes. He mentioned that he had started reading the blog. I already knew that he had called the counselor and how the conversation went. I told him so. I also explained why I had never gotten around to signing a release form for her to talk to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked if I remembered the last session, but I didn't. I mentioned that it wasn't easily available, but that if I tried really hard I could probably get at least some of it back. He proceeded to relate it all to me. It was pretty overwhelming to hear (a lot had happened), and I started to shut down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about Internal Family Systems Therapy a little bit. It's the modality that he wants to use with me. It requires the help of a "core self," different than the core personality often talked about in DID circles. The core self is competent and confident, is something that everyone has (multiple or not), and is secure and untraumatized. The idea of that scares me because we tried to access that part once before and it didn't work. What if it isn't there. I mean, there's a guess as to who in the system it might be, but what if we are all wrong? If no core self exists, then what? Is therapy hopeless? How do we find this self? What happens if we can't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also brought up "k" again, mentioned how she came out in response to stuff related to "the question." He still thinks that she came out because she wanted to talk, but was also unwilling to talk at the same time. He described her attitude as ambivolent. He was going to ask to speak to "d". I asked him why and he told me that he wanted to know why he ("d") didn't want him to talk to "k". I told him that he didn't need to talk to "d" because I could give him the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, the counselor asked a bad question (what do you deserve?), and "k" really fell apart. She crumbled, and disappeared far inside for at least 4 months. We can't afford to lose her like that. We have a set of twins, two sides of the same coin, who keep records of everything that happens outside. They hold different parts of it, but together they hold it all. If they were to have a third, it would be "k". She knows everything inside. She know who everyone is, where they are, what they are doing (except for "the Others," she can't see what they are doing), and what their jobs and problems are. Right now, there aren't enough who are in good shape to hold up the system if she crashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to know what could happen to make it safe for her to talk. I told him that others have to come first. She will be one of the last to reveal and deal with things because the others have to be strong enough to hold up the system without her for a while. Granted, there's no guarantee that she will crumble again, but it isn't worth the risk. Losing her cripples the system, and that is far too dangerous. It simply isn't worth the risk. She can wait until later. There are plenty of others who can go before her. It bothers me in a way because she is so young with so much responsibility, such a big job, and yet she carries so much pain. I hate that she will have to continue to carry the world on her shoulders. It just isn't fair to someone so young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew what to do. The T wants to try to find the "core self" again next time. I'm nervous. There are so many directions that I feel like I should be going. I can't choose one. I am standing still, and I'm sinking into the quicksand. If I don't move soon, I'll die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In brief, went to social security and took care of business, even though it was a day after the due date. I think it will be okay. Turned in the research paper today. Also had a wonderful conversation with one of my professors, R. F-T.. She is wonderful and insightful and supportive and friendly. We get along well. Did laundry and started packing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much...but done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1958001400841407856?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1958001400841407856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1958001400841407856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1958001400841407856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1958001400841407856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/12/rough-and-good-day.html' title='A rough and good day'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3172678844765150586</id><published>2008-12-01T01:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T01:36:52.482-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Finished</title><content type='html'>I just finished (nearly) writing a research paper for my seminar class tomorrow. It's almost 1:30 am and I only wrapped up about 10 minutes ago. Luckily, I don't have class until 11 o'clock becauseI still haven't written my introduction. I have, however, written over 7 pages of material including an awesome (maybe) conclusion. The SO is going to flip out on me when he looks at the time when I come to bed. I don't really care though. I'm only feeling slightly dozy as it is. I'm sure I'll fall asleep relatively quickly, but I do not feel exhausted. That is probably due in part to the fact that I have been going to be very late and waking up relatively late every day for almost the past week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be rough getting back on this school schedule for two weeks. Luckily, I only have to be back on the school schedule for two weeks. Within that two weeks, I have to study for finals, do homework (luckily not a lot), pack up the house, move (and then unpack too), bake cookies, and possibly get started choreographing my very first show. It's going to be a crazy couple of weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And during all of that mess, I have to continue with T and counseling and try not to turn into a complete basketcase. I hope I can handle that much. I don't think basketcases do so well on finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stressed and nervous about tomorrow (well actually just later today). I know the T read the blog last monday. I'm not sure if he's read since then. He was already worried, and I know I've added a little more to worry about (unless the counselor successfully expressed her concrete lack of concern). I doubt that she was able to get any message across though, since I hadn't yet signed a release form for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of it all, I may have screwed myself over with Social Security. I'll just have to wait and see until tomorrow. UGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANNOT handle everything that my life throws at me when I get exhausted. I am just incapable of it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time for bed though. I can do bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3172678844765150586?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3172678844765150586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3172678844765150586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3172678844765150586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3172678844765150586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/finished.html' title='Finished'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2692069161958938789</id><published>2008-11-30T12:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T12:56:03.169-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Responsibilities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><title type='text'>Last day</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2692069161958938789?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2692069161958938789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2692069161958938789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2692069161958938789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2692069161958938789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/last-day.html' title='Last day'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3310394581049107165</id><published>2008-11-30T02:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T03:02:15.944-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-hatred'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>Proof</title><content type='html'>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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3310394581049107165?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3310394581049107165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3310394581049107165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3310394581049107165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3310394581049107165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/proof.html' title='Proof'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4945499322157522535</id><published>2008-11-29T17:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T17:19:07.549-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Miscellaneous nonsense</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4945499322157522535?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4945499322157522535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4945499322157522535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4945499322157522535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4945499322157522535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/miscellaneous-nonsense.html' title='Miscellaneous nonsense'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4689260209092772529</id><published>2008-11-28T11:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T12:12:23.204-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>A nightmare</title><content type='html'>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! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4689260209092772529?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4689260209092772529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4689260209092772529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4689260209092772529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4689260209092772529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/nightmare.html' title='A nightmare'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3257927347016763593</id><published>2008-11-27T08:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T08:51:32.863-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Just a quick note</title><content type='html'>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). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post again later about the status of my pies (I baked two including my very first pumpkin ever). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3257927347016763593?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3257927347016763593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3257927347016763593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3257927347016763593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3257927347016763593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-quick-note.html' title='Just a quick note'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-5014765331988691689</id><published>2008-11-26T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T16:19:28.043-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disclosure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>A crazy day (or life)</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a fun afternoon anyways. It made the day a little less stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all from me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-5014765331988691689?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/5014765331988691689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=5014765331988691689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5014765331988691689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/5014765331988691689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/crazy-day-or-life.html' title='A crazy day (or life)'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1940742501841902088</id><published>2008-11-24T19:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T19:54:07.187-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Rough day in T</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1940742501841902088?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1940742501841902088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1940742501841902088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1940742501841902088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1940742501841902088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/rough-day-in-t.html' title='Rough day in T'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1650709592644650392</id><published>2008-11-23T13:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T14:03:16.901-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>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). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1650709592644650392?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1650709592644650392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1650709592644650392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1650709592644650392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1650709592644650392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-6752807441964473570</id><published>2008-11-22T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T16:20:06.353-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-hatred'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badness'/><title type='text'>Explaining it all</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A useless bad child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-6752807441964473570?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/6752807441964473570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=6752807441964473570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6752807441964473570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/6752807441964473570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/explaining-it-all.html' title='Explaining it all'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2390745175895850103</id><published>2008-11-22T04:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T04:52:53.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I deserve (a really bad night)</title><content type='html'>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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Man is the T going to flip this week. Wow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2390745175895850103?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2390745175895850103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2390745175895850103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2390745175895850103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2390745175895850103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-i-deserve-really-bad-night.html' title='What I deserve (a really bad night)'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4942270283599523171</id><published>2008-11-21T22:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T16:20:29.757-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>A Book and a Memory</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;to love who he was really loving, and love &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; 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, &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; got left at the door, buried in the couch, hung out to dry. I became the &lt;em&gt;idea&lt;/em&gt; of me that I thought they all wanted. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, deep breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to think anymore. I want it all to go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4942270283599523171?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4942270283599523171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4942270283599523171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4942270283599523171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4942270283599523171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/book-and-memory.html' title='A Book and a Memory'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-1541590255256593640</id><published>2008-11-20T19:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T20:05:45.730-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injuries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forbidden question'/><title type='text'>Almost time to relax</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I really do have to write that paper. So I'm going to go for now and attempt to do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-1541590255256593640?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/1541590255256593640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=1541590255256593640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1541590255256593640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/1541590255256593640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/almost-time-to-relax.html' title='Almost time to relax'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4845403647828026499</id><published>2008-11-18T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T11:39:36.542-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eating Disorder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Co-consciousness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>New developments and general craziness</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN,&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4845403647828026499?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4845403647828026499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4845403647828026499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4845403647828026499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4845403647828026499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-developments-and-general-craziness.html' title='New developments and general craziness'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-233897338252784926</id><published>2008-11-17T10:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:49:31.526-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S*x'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Body Image'/><title type='text'>Bad things at night</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class starts in a few minutes, so I have to go. If I think of more later, I'll post again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-233897338252784926?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/233897338252784926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=233897338252784926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/233897338252784926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/233897338252784926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/bad-things-at-night.html' title='Bad things at night'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-3865010418863642193</id><published>2008-11-16T22:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T23:02:42.812-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Containment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Switching'/><title type='text'>Forgetfulness...and remembering (could be triggering to some with SI issues)</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-3865010418863642193?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/3865010418863642193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=3865010418863642193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3865010418863642193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/3865010418863642193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/forgetfulnessand-remembering-could-be.html' title='Forgetfulness...and remembering (could be triggering to some with SI issues)'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2172675164991663832</id><published>2008-11-15T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T21:59:19.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Overwhelmed</title><content type='html'>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.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have dance performances all weekend long and on Monday, three in total. Love to dance, but can't wait until it is over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am done for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2172675164991663832?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2172675164991663832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2172675164991663832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2172675164991663832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2172675164991663832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/feeling-overwhelmed.html' title='Feeling Overwhelmed'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-2543115844977763752</id><published>2008-11-15T11:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T12:38:51.977-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheppard Pratt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Followers'/><title type='text'>Followers and history</title><content type='html'>Just a bried note about the blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I added the Followers widget to the blog today because they suggest it if you ever want people to read your blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created a website for the system. At some point, when I feel a little more secure, I will post the link here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-2543115844977763752?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/2543115844977763752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=2543115844977763752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2543115844977763752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/2543115844977763752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/followers-and-history.html' title='Followers and history'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296660525357313452.post-4821462796956407827</id><published>2008-11-14T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:06:56.513-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DID experiences'/><title type='text'>Hiding from the light</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/296660525357313452-4821462796956407827?l=hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/feeds/4821462796956407827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=296660525357313452&amp;postID=4821462796956407827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4821462796956407827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/296660525357313452/posts/default/4821462796956407827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hidingbehindshadows.blogspot.com/2008/11/hiding-from-light.html' title='Hiding from the light'/><author><name>Batesie2012</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12566420218856017963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
