I’m really trying…

July 14, 2010

If I relax, I remember. If I do yoga or Tai Chi, I focus.

If I allow negative thoughts I beat myself up. If I change or rewrite those thoughts I am positively thinking.

If I do not “turn down” my Emotional Flashback Machine with my Coping Skills Toolbox I lose my time. If I use the Toolbox I have more time with my children, my hobbies and myself.

If I do not communicate internally I do not understand my thoughts. If I take the few moments to understand and listen inside I am healing.

I am really, really trying to help myself, but I’m not happy about it. I have more energy lately because I’m mad and I’m trying to focus that energy positively and for the purpose of living well. It’s working this week, but then I forget other things that need to get done around here, so I feel guilty. Oh woe is I! Not really.

Today is Falzar the Mighty Baby Robin’s last day in the house. This is a good thing because Falzar has turned one room into a pooping palace. Falzar will most likely return here several times a day for up to one month for food, like they would with their natural parents, and we are preparing for that. Our biggest problem is my cat, Julius the Amazing Leaping Bird-Catcher Extraordinaire. It’s his hobby to try and catch birds in mid-air. I’ve tried to discourage this behavior, but with little success. I feel we have two options: attach the nest to a nearby tree where Julius rarely wanders and is near the house, or chain Julius to a chair. *sigh*

Today is also the day I reach my full basic dosage of Trileptal. Huzzah! I’m feeling loopy, I’m still not sure if it’s going to work, but I have been very good and taken it the right way since I started. Usually I give up or take it my way, but I’m giving this medication a chance. I think it’s because I like my psychiatrist and this is the same medication for both bipolar disorder and DID. So even if my therapist and psychiatrist disagree with my diagnosis a tad the medicines are the same for both. Thus far I would recommend Trileptal. Little to no weight gain and fairly easy-to-handle side effects.

Well, I’ve made little to no point whatsoever with this post, so I’ll get back to whatever it was I was doing. Here’s a funny picture for you:

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A Bit About the Visit

July 6, 2010

I understand that many people no longer have contact with their abusers and do not understand why other people continue to interact with them. I have ended contact with everyone but those who started it all – my primary abusers. It is a very complicated relationship, but over the past two years I have been severing the ties. One of the reasons is that if I suddenly ended everything they would be here, at my house every chance they got, and most likely pursuing legal action to get grandparent visitation rights, and the last thing I want is them alone with my children. That is just one reason, and if it works for me so be it. It’s taking a little longer for me to end contact, causing a little more instability internally, but it’s the way hubby and I are doing it for now.

There are a few things I wanted to write about their visit here the other day. I do not go to their house and having them here on my home ground with boundaries in place and support from hubby was good. I do not engage them in conversation, offer them food or drink, or make them feel welcome. I am not rude, either. I’m just kind of “there”.

My mother was diagnosed manic-depressive in the early 70’s. If you wish to read more about her and how I feel you can find some entries here:

https://roseroars.wordpress.com/tag/mother/

As far as my father goes, I’m not ready to write about what he has done to me. I have a great deal of trouble telling my therapist and often write events on paper and just hand it to her.

The visit went a little like this:

*they bought me clothes in size XXL and I wear a L. They know that.

*they gave me food which was undercooked, and a sour-cream based dip that had been in a 90-degree trunk for over an hour, tried to get me to eat it and I just set it aside and threw it away later

*they gave the kids gifts that were old and broken and clothes that do not fit them

*they kept bringing conversations back to my son and how wonderful he is. (He is a terrific kid, don’t get me wrong.) He is apparently the perfect son they couldn’t have.

*brought me half-dead flowers

That’s just a little of it, and she usually brings those sorts of things so it was not new. The conversation was very fakey-fakey and forced. I believe by the time they left that they understand I am finished with them. At least I hope so.

That’s all I can write for now.

Yesterday hubby and I went out shopping for meat and video and board games. The two most important recreational things to him. Sometime between the butcher shop and the first game store I took a back seat and a young girl came out. I’m guessing she’s around 12 years old, but I could not get a name or much else information. She danced, threw food at hubby, sang, played sarcastic practical jokes, spoke with a British accent, bought several games like “Zombie Dice”, new Magic cards, and had a wonderful time. Hubby would say things like, “You are sure wound up today.”, or “That spring roll is not a monster, silly.”. I believe he thought I was just goofy. My psychiatrist would say I was rapid-cycling in BipolarLand, but I know I had a back seat to a little girl’s day out.

This morning I had two painful cortisone shots in my thumbs for arthritis, had to wear knee braces to grocery shop, and needed a candy bar later because my blood sugar fell down and went boom.

I really want that little girl to come back soon.

Sad little girl

June 1, 2010

My mother is bipolar. For a short time in the early 1970’s she was treated with Librium, but she chose to stop treatment because she believed as an RN she could fix herself, I found the medicine when I was around 5 years old and asked what it was for, and it was an embarrassment to my father. She was/is abused by my father in every way but physical (as far as I know) and very Catholic, although I think her faith no longer gives her any comfort.

As an untreated bipolar person she is a monster. At this point she believes that if she prays hard enough her problems will disappear. I have very little to no contact with her except through e-mails. I wanted to share an example of her normal mental state in a recent e-mail:

“When I have trouble sleeping, like last night, I keep repeating in the same short prayer ( Hail Mary ) over and over and over until all my concentration is on that and not on  all the other things, and then the other things  leave my mind. Takes awhile, but it works. Hope you have a wonderful Memorial Day,are you cooking outside? Tomorrow we have to go to (an aunt’s) for family picinic and to celebrate (another aunt) 50 years as a nun. Today we will have to go see your sister in the hospital, she was in ER at wilson and they admitted her.Its for that intestinal problem with the acute diarrhea and vomiting.  Tell the kids we say hello, Love you, mom”

This is a teeny example of the mish-mash in her brain. I will briefly explain the e-mail:

1.I am no longer a Catholic (25 years now) and she bombards me with religious e-mails and talks about it constantly when I see her to attempt to bring me back to the church and have my children baptized. Prayer, god, and Mary will solve all of your problems.

2.She “has” to go to the picnic. She doesn’t like her in-laws, but makes a point that we were not invited. I no longer have any contact with that side of the family for many reasons (primarily verbal and emotional abuse), will not see them until my grandmother dies and I pay my respects at the funeral.

3.My sister is in the hospital again. I no longer have contact with my sister, but see how caring and attentive she is as a mother?

4.Both of these days she is 15 minutes away from our house, yet does not mention that or ask to stop by.

5.She has yet to acknowledge my daughters in nearly any way, or my husband. She does not call them on birthdays (or any other time) and buys them presents from dollar stores with the prices still attached and reeking of cigarette smoke. My children do not like her, but they don’t really understand why, and I don’t know what to tell them. Every gift from them has been age-inappropriate, either baby gifts or pornography for my son (which I did not know about originally, but stopped it immediately when I found out. “It was just a joke!” they said).

That is a smidgen of what she is saying in that e-mail. The sentences run into one another, it is not cohesive, and does not entirely make sense. The only time she does think semi-straight is when she is at work as a nurse. She is retired recently and I expect she will become much worse very quickly. Every time I hear from her I promise myself I won’t let it bother me but it does. I become agitated, angry, and 43 years of memories run over and over in my head and it doesn’t stop for some time.

My therapist and I have only touched the subject of her abuse because we are focusing on the sexual abuse, DID, and coping skills right now. My husband understands how I feel (or don’t feel) but it makes him upset to see what she does to me and he becomes very overprotective.

Tonight I was listening to people on “Antiques Roadshow” talking about items they had received from their parents, how it was special because it reminded them of their parents, or how it had been handed down for generations. I think that’s when I became a little upset. I have nothing like that. I want nothing from my parents. I throw away everything they give me. I lost my childhood because of them. I am DID and bipolar because of them. I have to relearn everything because of them.

I don’t even know where I am going with this post. I think I might be grieving. I’m crying and I feel like a child, so maybe that’s it.

She neglected and rejected me as a baby, forgot about me through adulthood, and now bombards me with her crap through e-mails. Thank you modern technology.

Oh, I hate her and I hate feeling that I need to write this out about her, but I don’t know how else to address my problems with her. Perhaps it would be a good idea to begin talking about this in therapy. I don’t know. I’m just a sad, little girl right now.