Today I spent the time between 8:15 am to 12 noon in a doctor’s office and hospital. For me this is another example of “just when things are looking up” going bad, or “Why be optimistic when you know something will happen to ruin it?”.

The reason for my appointment and hospital test visit is not important. What was important to me was the instability afterward. The wrench in my newly-tuned System. The “sabo” in my “tage“.

The next three hours, which isn’t necessarily a long time, were an exercise in futility. Panic, crying, possible heart attack, shortness of breath, racing thoughts, self-injury…the whole shebang. It wasn’t until I put in a fitness DVD for 20 minutes that things began to stabilize again. Xanax, self-talk, and grounding techniques were worthless.

I know it happens. It feels like it has happened all my life. It’s as though it doesn’t matter what I try to do, or how well I feel after something positive happens because it will shortly be fucked up.

It’s my pity party for today. It’s my why-the-fuck-keep-trying rant. And my gonna-eat-ice-cream-’cause-I-can-so-shut-up whiny post.

Depending on the test results I might whine again next week too.

Becoming more self-aware is a huge challenge. As I try to learn to be self-aware I am finding that:

*30 minutes has gone by

*My nails have been polished

*I made cookie dough and it tastes great

*The birds are beautiful against the white snow

*All of my clothes, and the kids clothes are put away
In other words I have dissociated and distracted myself in order to not be self-aware. So, what could I possibly be afraid of? I am afraid that the more aware I become:

*the more I will know about the ugly, horrible things

*the more ashamed I will be

*the more I’ll hate myself

*the more I will eat

*the more I will hurt myself

*the more I will want to kill myself

Is self-knowledge worth the possibility of experiencing these fears and having to deal with them? Yep. If I think about this logically I believe that what will really happen is that I will become depressed, and that’s part of what I pay my therapist and psychiatrist to help me with.

When I try to be self-aware about my feelings or experiences I sometimes become overwhelmed, experience flashbacks and usually turn to:





Those actions make the bad feelings go away for the moment. Then I get to experience the shame of doing those actions later which compounds the problem and impedes my healing process.

I have gone around and around with this and these short-term, unhealthy behaviors. The only thing that has helped at all is saying out loud as the adult that I am, “This is not a healthy way to cope. We need to learn new, healthier ways to deal with the overwhelming feelings. If we do those old things then we can’t move forward and be a good mom or crochet things for our etsy shop.”. There have been only two times that saying this has not worked, and I say it A LOT.

A huge downside to learning to become more self-aware is that a part of me made a suicide kit. I was hoping to give it to my therapist yesterday but I had to cancel due to a snow day. The box is new, clean and well-prepared. It’s disconcerting, but I don’t believe it is a serious threat at the moment. It feels more like a “Ha-ha. Look what I did behind your back!” from an adolescent part.

I had hoped that after a year of therapy I would be past all this. Same therapist, same psychiatrist, and I just creep along. It’s not that I mind the creeping too much, I’m simply tired of it. I think a lot about becoming self-aware, but it’s hard work to do it. I firmly believe that where the mind goes, the body will follow, and vice versa, but it doesn’t hold up as well in DID Land.

This was written for me. I want to know where I am and where I think about going. I want to be strong and healthy and a good person. As many times as I say that, though, it feels almost unreachable.


November 10, 2010

Above my head and over to the right is where an emotion might be. Since it’s over there I can’t reach it or feel it, but I know it’s there.  On the other side, perhaps farther to the left, are images. It is like watching a movie. Below me, also out of reach, are physical sensations. They are below me, but they can move up and into my body sometimes.

I like them separated that way. Everything has its place and it’s not too close to me.

When they all come together at one time it makes Lisa throw her glasses off, cry spastically, claw at her face, hide in her coat, shake uncontrollably, and want to hurt, hurt, hurt  herself.

That younger girl was really out. Weird. I had no control.

Today was a big step for me in therapy. We got through it, I am not in the hospital, and everything ended with me being sarcastic and able to breathe. I looked horrible, though.

It was easy to slowly work through memories and start identifying emotions bit-by-bit, but I can see the benefits of experiencing everything at once in a safe space and working through it that way. It felt like I was there for a week. It’s not over for that particular memory, and I’ll probably take back everything I’m saying later, but I came out okay afterward. It felt calm and peaceful for at least 30 minutes or so.

Did you ever feel like, “Wow! That was intense! Bring me another memory! I can do this shit!”? That’s how I felt at the end of the session.

Just wanted to share that.


One of last night’s dreams:

My sister and I move to a new home that my parents bought. The neighborhood is lovely, serene, and everything looks like a Norman Rockwell painting. My grandfather (whom I adored) is going to live with us.

Most of our belongings are in storage at a a house across the street. I go to take a shower and there are no doors, so anyone could walk in or see me. The toilet is out in the open, and the walls are really windows. Instead I go to make breakfast but the stove is faulty and I burn myself. The paint in the living room is peeling off and it smells…well….wrong. My grandfather is just sitting there, doing nothing.

I am frightened and feel a need to either hide or run into the street. I’m going through my purse looking for a vibrator so I can calm down by masturbating (It’s weird that I am consciously, at least in the dream, making this decision. Normally that would happen without my being aware.). I find it, but there is no place to do that where I won’t be seen by anyone, so I don’t do it.

My sister says that my parents will be home soon and I freak. I make everyone go across the street to get some things out of storage. As I’m climbing out the windows I see that the glass is broken, so I move to avoid it, but the vinyl siding is broken with sharp edges and I keep cutting myself. If I get enough big things out of storage than I can hide myself and not be seen. I start to drag things out of the neighbors garage and I sense my parents getting closer and I start to freak out.

I woke up suddenly because Haggis, my Rottweiler/St. Bernard was cleaning me and licking my hair. He always does that when I’m upset. Cute, protective, and sloppy.

My grandfather adored me. He also adored his step-daughter. I think he stayed motionless in my dream because he couldn’t choose sides, and I never asked him to. The dream could symbolize that no matter where I am I won’t feel safe if my parents are around, and that no matter how pleasant or safe that dream house felt, it was filled with traps and fear, and I still feel vulnerable even though I am physically safe now.

I like those type of dreams. They are fairly obvious but they also gauge how I am feeling deep down and present issues I’m not dealing with at the moment. They also leave me wondering if I should reconsider what I have chosen to work on. These days I am working on coping, coping, coping. Coping with body memories. Coping with the laundry. Coping with the littles who have charged in out of nowhere. Coping with recovering from surgery. Blah, blah, blah. I didn’t feel I had any safety issues that needed attention, but apparently I do.

I would like to assign an alter to each issue that needs to be worked on. That would really help me get through this easier. Then they could write out their reports in separate journals and I could turn those in to my therapist. Done.

This is a copy of a letter I wrote to my therapist. I’ll give it to her at my next appointment. It feels much better since I wrote it, but I don’t really understand why yet.

##Trigger – please be careful-##
*I really want to be better inside. Sometimes it’s hard for me to put my trust in you and let my real feelings come out. I don’t even know what those feelings would be. I want to do more than I am and sometimes I am afraid to do the work necessary. I’m embarrassed to walk in your office, I feel like everyone is watching and everyone knows there is something horribly wrong with me. I’m afraid to walk out of your office for the same reason, but in your office I feel okay.

Some days I don’t believe I have DID and I argue with myself until I realize I’m arguing with another part inside. They come out of nowhere with their responses, ideas, memories, feelings, and questions. They don’t often feel like a part of me. It’s difficult to connect with them. Some have names, some don’t. This morning I recovered a memory and thought to myself, “Oh, okay.”, and tried to go on with my day. It didn’t just go away. It never really does. In response to the memory a part of me was urging me to masturbate and the good feeling will make the bad ones go away. This time I told the whole System that I felt we needed to find a more mature method of handling this. I actually felt a conversation between parts. It was so odd. There was an agreement to find different solutions and I tried to help the younger part that suggested masturbation understand why that decision was reached.

I used to think I was strong and smart, but I don’t anymore. I used to have a large vocabulary and now I can’t find those words anymore. I write like a kid.

I just needed to write this out.*

The masturbation is sexual self-injury because it doesn’t often end well. The memory was of being orally raped and seeing baby blocks and pre-school toys on a changing table across the room. That, at least, gives me a time frame.

##End trigger##

I didn’t copy my letter here to trigger anyone, rather, I don’t believe I am the only one that has ever felt like this. I feel empty, alone, useless and stupid. It probably means something because I am actually feeling. Huzzah.

It has been a very difficult week so far and next Tuesday I’m having surgery. I’m finding it nearly impossible to prepare for recovering, but everything usually works out.

I am expecting lots and lots of well wishes next Tuesday! So, don’t forget! I probably won’t read them until Wednesday or Thursday so you have an extra day or two. As far as prezzies go……buy yourselves something special because I think all of you are so very special.

…shhh…they’re gone…

September 9, 2010

…..shhhhh……..they are all out of the house right now…… in school, hubby at a dentist appointment…..I am all alone and it’s GREAT!!! Damn, I hope that wasn’t too loud………

One whole fucking week! Twenty-four fucking hours a day! For the next hour I have the computer, kitchen, television, living room, and Sirius/XM radio all to myself. There will not be another time like this until next Monday. Hubby has had a rough time since his wisdom teeth came out and I took good care of him. It was his first operation and his first experience with narcotic painkillers.

I think everyone inside handled it fairly well, except for some sexual self-injury which I felt unable to control. Lots and lots of nightmares and only one panic attack. One phone call and psycho email from my mother which threw me for a loop and I’m never going out in public in this town again because I just say embarrassing things. I was triggered by an invitation to a 25+ year high school reunion, my youngest playing with Barbies, and the show “Masterchef” which I don’t watch but was on when I walked in the room. So… not too bad. It’s not like I’m keeping track or anything.

Today is therapy, which is always sheer delight, and then I am making Scotch eggs which should result in a heart attack later this evening. But it will be worth it. I only make them once or twice a year because it takes that long for our bodies too digest all of it.

Be good to yourself, people!

Perhaps unwise…

July 27, 2010

I have been trying to trigger myself until I finally feel something. Then perhaps I will have something interesting to post.

Last week there was another meltdown at the therapist’s office. It wasn’t quite as bad as the previous one, but bad enough. She seems to be very concerned about my sexual self-injury (golly, I don’t know why…) and I lost it. I really don’t completely understand why I do it, but now I have some ideas and I walked out armed with some things I could do to try and stop or ease it. If anyone is interested I will write more about why I think I do it and the suggestions she came up with. If anyone would feel safer if I wrote it in an e-mail, please feel free to write to me at’s a zero after annerose, by the way.)

I wanted to discuss my mother and how & why she’s trying to kill me (or if it’s all in my imagination), hubby’s lack of interest in anything I say, do, or feel, why WordPress takes so long to friggin’ load sometimes, why I’m afraid I’ll explode in front of the kids and how to manage that, etc., but no. I wonder if I walk in on Meltdown Mode she tries to get me to open up on subjects she feels are relevant, and not what I have written down.

There is virtually no communication internally now because I just don’t give a shit. Thoughts and images pop up and I just deal with them and use my coping techniques. I’m remembering some nasty shit, though, and the night terrors have returned. The days go by so quickly, I lose time, and I don’t care. Oh well. It could all change soon. I think that’s what is fun about DID – you just never know anything.

This morning I have an appointment with my GYN. It’s both for a trans-vaginal ultrasound for ovarian cysts (endometriosis) and a follow-up for the horrible things I do to my body. The sexual self-injury has been worse lately. I think the more depressed I am the more compulsive I am about it. I wonder if she will want to speak with my therapist, and I know she was going to speak to a male OB/GYN about it (with my permission) because he has experience with sexual assault victims. It has been 20 years since I have seen a male OB/GYN, but he performed my first endo laparoscopic surgery (I was unconscious, so I never actually saw him do anything) and I do trust him a smidgen.

My appointment is in a couple of hours, so………Let the pacing begin!

So it’s a horrendous day, I can’t focus, and my car is still in the shop which means some horrible disaster will happen at school and I’ll have no way to get there. Then I started thinking…think, think, look at the computer screen… think, think, look at the keyboard (yes, it’s still there)…think, think…..ah yes…

*****possible triggers*****

Reading blogs is often triggering, which is okay. Sometimes that’s the best way to bring certain issues to the surface so I can help myself or even realize them. I’m never upset about that. Rather, I appreciate that one is willing to lay it out and share their experience with others. Reading other’s stories, questions, perceived failures and susscesses is one of the few things I look forward to.

I think I may have a point here…..soon……maybe not… First, a question: How do you feel about purposely triggering yourself to get information about your personal history? (Yeah I have done that before and there is much wailing and knashing of teeth.)

Another question: What the hell does it mean if I’m carrying a stuffed animal, a sex toy, and Avon catalogues in my purse at the same time? (I’m thinking different ages put them in at different times, but I just noticed them together tonight when my daughter asked to play with my phone. She didn’t find all those things, though.)

From your personal therapeutic and non-therapeutic experience how far off kilter am I, and what would be some good questions to ask in therapy? You get full credit for any suggeations and ideas. It’s hard to see what’s going on from the inside, and the inside is a mess. I am beginning to think that certain children are taking advantage of this, too. “Oh no, Mom. You said I could have it. You just forgot.”, or, “No I didn’t do that. You probably did that and just don’t remember.”. Me sees a mutiny a-risin’!

Finally, it is not easy to respect your alters when they have no respect for you. I know it’s still early on in DID World, and it can be normal for there to be internal chaos, but I’ve lost control and anarchy has ensued. I don’t know if I’m dissociating or switching or what. That’s a question I have for the therapist on Thursday.  This post made no sense. Oh, don’t act like you’re surprised! Now it’s time for some sleep.