Keeping up with reading and writing a blog is taking a back seat to mentally and physically preparing myself for surgery in a few weeks. As DID thingies arise it’s been a little easier to handle and I’ve been pleasantly surprised to understand just how well my coping skills are working lately.

As okay as this has been going the past few weeks I have been triggered by my mother’s email-spamming (tons of stupid, usually christian, forwarded crap) and her personal emails to me. Following are her personal emails. I had thought about picking them apart and explaining the lies, stupidity, nonsense, etc., but I feel better simply posting them. It has been one year since I’ve spoken to my parents on the phone. I have never asked about them or any member of my family. I have never written them an email, only responded if necessary. So here goes the personal emails over the past month:

Apr. 18, 2011

Hi Lisa,

Just wanted you to know that we will be out of town today to wed , so if you need us for anything, you can call us on the tracfone.
We sent out the kids Easter baskets sat. Hope all is well with you and hope you two had a wonderful anniversary.

Love, mom and dad
—————————————————————
Apr. 21, 2011

We went to see your dad’s chest surgeon today and he had his CT scan of his chest before the appt and the doctor said that his chest now looks like that of a normal patient. No cancer and whatever it was that he had in the remaining lobes that the pulmonologist checked is no longer there. GOOD NEWS

Love mom and dad
—————————————————————
Apr. 30, 2011

 Good morning Lisa,

Today we are dropping you a line because you do not want us to call, to say we hope that [daughter] has a wonderful birthday and the day itself will be beautiful for her.
We were wondering also, how you made out with the storm, hope there was no damage. I was thinking about that area way in back of house that is like a swamp and if it filled up with water?  Hope you all have a wonderful day.

Love mom and dad

****NB****I have never said that I don’t want them to call****
————————————————————–
May 4, 2011

Hi honey,

Just wanted you to know that this weather craps the bed

Love, mom
—————————————————————–
May 5, 2011

Hi honey,

Dad went to dermatologist yesterday and had 3 biopsy’s of his head, they will let us know how they turn out. This man has had every part of his body biopsied.
How are you doing with your sugar and sleeping? Also your knee’s.
The sun was wonderful today.
[daughter] enjoy her birthday, did she have friends for a sleep over?

Talk to you later,
Love you, mom
————————————————————-
May 9, 2011

Howdy Lisa,

Hope you had a wonderful Mother’s day, I got thinking about it and I envisioned [daughter] and [daughter] making your dinner, since you taught them both to cook. Did they? If so , what did they make. Hope it was a day of rest for you, you need it.
Your Dad went to your grandma’s because I was sick. He got her a Jesus coffee cup that says Jesus saves and when you pour coffee in it , his beard comes off his face and it says Jesus shaves. She loved it.
Well , take care and I love you, Mom
————————————————————-
May 12, 2011

Hello my sweets,

Wanted to let you know that dad biopsies , none were cancer.
Also, we will be leaving town tomorrow morning till Sunday. It’s your dad’s once a year golf trip with the boys and so I’m going away with Sue till Sunday. You can always get a hold of me on the track phone if something happens.
This is the kind of weather I like and we have been getting a lot of outdoor work done and gardens are looking good. We really hope you can come down this summer. Have you started your vegetable garden yet?

Love, Mom
—————————————————————-
May 16, 2011

We got back yesterday. It was raining here when we left,raining where we went,raining where your dad went and raining when we came home, it’s unbelievable and it was pouring when we got up today. Unfortunately john and your dad got sick on their dinner Friday night, which curtailed their activity a little bit for rest of weekend. Sue and I had a very good time and everything went well.
Hope all is well with you. How are the girls and [son] doing?
I see your mother-in-law is having surgery, I sent her a note to let me know how she does.
Talk to you soon, Love Mom
—————————————————————

I was trying and working really hard, but these emails brought out two new alters, night terrors, panic attacks, and a sensation of being choked that keeps coming and going. My hallucinations were going away until now and my psychiatrist is scheduling a CT brain scan in July and has tweaked some medications.

I don’t delete these personal emails right away in case they are attempting to come to the house and sometimes it’s difficult to tell by her subject line.

The new alters are quite talkative and sometimes it feels like they are riding on my shoulders wherever I go, but they feel safe and comfortable. That’s what’s important, too. We need to feel safe, comfortable, aware, accepted, loved, respected and validated.

I’m not ranting really. Those little girls wouldn’t have come forward if they didn’t feel it was time, and while my coping techniques are useful for many situations I see now where I need some extra stuff.

Everything just keeps building upon the last step. I want it to reach a landing so I can take a break for a while before continuing on this healing journey.

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I wanted to write and rant but it’s sooo loud, loud, loud! Therapy left me more frustrated than ever. We talked about a million things and I cannot focus or finish a sentence or thought.

It’s hard to stop and prioritize. And I’m so tired. So much needs to be done.

I know what mom did. I see the look on her face and I hear what she said. That vindictive fucking bitch. And it’s playing over and over and over in my head.

Inside there is an alter who seems ageless and another one that feels older than me and is very nurturing and loving. I’m trying to give everything over to them so I can breathe. It’s just starting to feel a little better. It needs to feel better because I have:

* another surgery soon

* my daughter’s birthday

* my son’s preparing for college

* and basic running around for food, appointments, sports, concerts, life in general shit

Over the past week I have run out of two stores in a panic, I’m hiding in closets and behind doors in my house like I did as a kid, and continue to search for noises that turn out to be more hallucinations. I forgot my birthday (I don’t celebrate it, though), anniversary, and nearly forgot my kid’s birthday (she reminded me in time). Things are moving too fast inside and out. I cope during panic attacks, walk around the house after I wake up from increased nightmares, and load up on drugs to sleep. I look like I’ve been hit by a baseball bat and makeup doesn’t really smooth it out. On the plus side I’ve lost a dress size and bra size, but there’s more gray in my hair.

That’s my fucking rant I suppose. I’ll call the stupid psychiatrist about my stupid hallucinations and my stupid nightmares even though it’s stupid. Nyah.

A couple of incredibly important Tuesday happenings here:

1: R. Lee Ermy hangin’ with his real buddies (thanks to my youngest daughter):

 

2: My road went bye-bye this morning:

 

No school for the next two days. I’m hoping that the inevitable distractions my children provide will prevent the panic attacks that have been plaguing me. That, and I get to play with R. Lee and the Barbies, too. He is my doll after all (he autographed the box for me and everything!). I will NOT let her play with my 30th anniversary original Star Trek Barbie collection! I’m hoping those will help pay for college someday.

I called my therapist last night concerning these panic attacks which accompany a new person inside. This inside guy is angry, threatening, scaring myself and younger ones, and wreaking havoc in general. I’m not entirely sure if he is the cause of the panic attacks, or if there is a trigger I’m missing here. Just talking to my therapist helped me sleep last night. I’m sure I won’t be able to see her this week because of this snowstorm. She wants me to work on distracting myself until my psychiatrist calls and see if that helps with the panic crap.

Take care of yourselves.

 

Chuggin’ along…

December 27, 2010

It has been very heartening to read how well, average, not-so-well, or okay many people managed the holidays. I feel it’s important to write it out, whether it is a good or bad or so-so experience. I don’t believe writing it out and/or reading others experiences just for comparison, but rather for inspiration and ideas. Certain times of the year are triggering, or just plain annoying, and reading about how people approach those times of year and deal with it help me feel a little less alone.

Over the past few days I’ve been debating writing about how it has been for me. It was not good. It is not good now, but I’m still here and my kids had a wonderful time. I tried really hard to see this time of year through their eyes and that almost helped. I never want them to associate the holidays with anything other than wonder and joy, so that’s my focus.

I will do whatever I need to do to move through these next couple of weeks intact. Hopefully I will look back and see how I can do things better next time.

No one nurtures Lisa except Lisa. No one asks if I need help or could use a break. No one offers to scratch my back, rub my feet, or play with my hair. No one asks about all of the band-aids on my body. They just come home and eat, mess up rooms while playing, and have their fun. No one asks if I had a good day.

I know they are happy, secure, loved, and comfortable with themselves. I know they feel safe and self-confident. I know that they feel that way because of me.

There is never a break. When I’m home alone it’s a flashback fiasco and a fight to stay aware (There’s this new “twitching” thing going on all the time, like my hands are moving independently. What’s that mean?). Out in public I’m suffering through anxiety attacks in stores, doctor’s offices, and store bathrooms. Last Wednesday I thought I was having a heart attack and asked to go to a hospital, but my therapist talked me down and I was okay. I’m not thinking straight and my vision is blurry.

I feel a little sorry for myself, a bit whiny, semi-suicidal and very confused. It’s this “first year after being diagnosed” stuff, I think, in large part.

On the up side all of the shopping and wrapping is finished. My best friend bought me an Affirmation Ball (“You Can Do It!”, “Nice Outfit!”) which is hysterical, as well as an Emergency Yodel Button. I have baked 4 million cookies, 12,000 loaves of different breads, convinced the kids that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and decorated the house.

Only one thing left……..the Christmas Eve Chinese dinner while watching Father Ted’s – A Christmassy Ted.

So, what have we learned? Lisa is a whiny, needy bitch, she has some strange “twitchy” thing going on, DID sucks sometimes, the kids are just fine, Christmas shit is done, and Father Ted is epic, so go buy it and watch it.

Have at the very least, an acceptable holiday, however you may or may not celebrate it. I’ll be reading, and in lieu of a complete breakdown I hope to be writing again next week. Huzzah!

The dogs *trigger*

November 9, 2010

My dogs constantly follow me around the house and yard. They accompany me while I fold the laundry and feed the birds. They climb the windows when they see I’m home. The bathroom door needs to be closed when I’m in there because they want to be with me.

They are always watching. Most of the time I think they are looking for food, but that’s not important. What’s important is that they are always watching. I know it’s crazy, but I feel like they have cameras in their eyes and are recording everything I do. I only sit down when I’m on the computer because I think if anyone sees what they are recording they will think I’m lazy because I’m not working, working, working around the house.

As new memories surface I becaome more paranoid and their staring is almost painful to me.

I was trying to pin down this intense paranoid feeling over the past few weeks and it comes down to them. The paranoia is from being watched when I was a little girl while being sexually abused.  I have memories and flashbacks of being watched, and if I’m upset or anxious about that I have two dogs who sense that and stay with me, watching, to help me feel better.

These dogs shove my husband out of the way when I have nightmares or night terrors. They are the best watchdogs. They can smell me just thinking about cooking a roast beef, and I can’t stand to be near them. I want them to shut up, stop making noise when they walk, and stop looking at me.

This post should be about something more important or interesting, but it’s been difficult doing therapy homework with them around. I was thinking about how something as simple as my dogs wanting to be with me brings back the same feelings I had as a child. They are watching me. Other people used to watch me and hurt me, too. The dogs want to hurt me (go syllogism!).

There are triggers everywhere in the big, wide world. I’m dealing with them much better now, but those triggers are outside of my home. It’s hard to get away from this particular trigger.

My family made me very angry today. The stress and heightened emotions from that are making me more upset and paranoid. Tonight is a Xanax night. I am hoping to figure out how to separate the reason my dogs are looking at me from the way I was watched as a little girl. I’ll end up living in my car if I don’t.

Fun with flashbacks

October 26, 2010

It’s fun with flashbacks again. All day, all night! Straight from my brain. No middlewoman necessary.

There are many things in this world that I am skeptical of. It may be that I simply don’t want to believe that people are capable of horrific acts against each other. I want to believe in the power of love for children. I want everyone to support each other and help their fellow humans.

My flashbacks tell me a different story, and it is mentally and physically excruciating to even type this little post about it. It reminds me of the movie Howl’s Moving Castle when the Witch of the Waste put a spell on Sofie so she would not be able to tell who put the curse on her. During each flashback I need to constantly reassure the alter holding the memory that she is safe and she doesn’t have to hold this secret any longer. It hurts my chest, it makes me panic, I start sweating profusely, and I fight hard not to dissociate. I’m not forcing the memory, just supporting the alter and letting her know that it is okay if she wants to share it now. Sometimes I only get a glimpse of the memory, sometimes I get quite a bit. Either way I am in shock. I never judge the alter’s experience. I let it come through and then support the alter in our safe space.

There is a lot to take in, and while the alter firmly believes it is the truth, I feel skeptical and I don’t really know what to think. So much of what I believed has already gone kablooey that I am trying to take these memories seriously. I want my alters to trust me and have faith in me. Eventually I would like us to come together, or work together.

Therapy was very intense last week and I know that is one of the reasons for these flashbacks. At the end of my session I showed my therapist pictures of my children. I think that after one year with her I feel that she is an important part of my family and many of my defenses are coming down. My next appointment is Thursday and I just keep writing down these flashbacks to go over with her. I am coping okay, but it takes all day to cope!

I was going to delete my blog because it is becoming so painful, but I know I’m not the only one who has experienced times like these. Well, back to Coping Land!

my brain is melting

October 12, 2010

(To the tune of Monty Python’s “Lumberjack Song”)

Oh…..I am DID and I don’t care
I might be here or I might be there

I jump and skip
Or go to work
And take my medication

My therapist reassures me
There’s at least 1% in the nation!

(You can stop now.)

I’m bored and restless…..a dangerous combination…..

A water main broke and the kids are being dismissed early from school…like now. I baked them a cake, but little do they know that I have walked around the house and found many, many jobs for them. Mwa-ha-ha! So much for a day off, my little minions!

Tomorrow is the Therapy Festival! I get to go and revel in my confused and twisted view of reality until my therapist says, “Are you okay to drive?”. Ah, what fun we’ll have… We will talk about flashbacks, body memories, littles, nightmares, night terrors and extreme anxiety. I’ll cry and pretend I’m actually getting something out of this and go home and fake my way through parenting and other family obligations. But…if they don’t fix the water main the kids could be home tomorrow, too. I just thought of that. Oh well. I’ll figure something out.

Sometimes I wish I still drank alcohol. It washed so much of this shit away along with my brain cells. If I drank enough perhaps it could wash away ALL of my brain cells…. nah. It’s been nearly 1&1/2 years since I drank.

Oh god. I need to find something to occupy my brain today! Can you imagine what it would be like if I stayed here, typing on the computer all day? You poor, poor people. You would be sucked into my black hole of incomprehensibility. I won’t do that to you, though, as tempting as that is. Consider yourselves lucky……this time……

Everybody now…..

August 30, 2010

(everyone together now…)

‘Round and ’round the anxiety bush, anxiety bush, anxiety bush!

‘Round and ’round the anxiety bush

So early in the morning!

Your heart will race, your breathing is shallow, breathing is shallow, breathing is shallow

Your heart will race, your breathing is shallow

So early in the morning!

(okay, you can stop now)

The faster I fall, the quicker I’m coping with skills I had forgotten I learned. If only it wasn’t happening so fast. It feels like as each memory, flashback, panic, or anxiety attack begins an invisible hand reaches out to help. The invisible hands may have soothing words, a blanket, a cold or hot drink, or a Xanax, or simply a pillow to collapse on. It is exhausting going through this day in and day out. Boy, you have ONE allergic reaction and anxiety attack in a clinic under safe, supportive surroundings and your brain thinks it can do it over and over – yeesh!

This September will be my six month DID diagnosis monthaversary and I have decided to skip to the end. My brain is arguing with my obvious flawless decision, but I’m sure it will come around (yeah right!).

“Talking out loud about your abuse can help bridge the gap between the emotion and the memory.” – Therapist

“I was severely and seriously sexually abused. I was neglected, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abused.” – me

This has been going around and around here for weeks.I’m waiting for some breach in this wall inside.

I have a question: Often when a memory comes through, whether new or revisiting, it is accompanied by an intense physical reaction and it is difficult to reach the emotions associated with the memory. Do the physical responses block the emotions? Do I have to keep reliving these body memories before the emotions come through? Is this one of those “Everybody’s different” questions?

Two things that have been helping me sleep better: Marcus Aurelius’ “Meditations” and Lao Tzus’ “Tao De Ching” audiobooks on my MP3 player. I figure that by next year I will become a Stoic Taoist naturally after listening to them each night…… Without the audiobooks my dreams are either horrific or symbolic. I’d rather be a Stoic Taoist.

I would love to share relevant information or amazing insights, but I got nothin’. I’m just taking it moment-by-moment.