Oh to be able to let my emotions flow out of my finger tips. The last few days I have been depressed and really anxious. Medication, situation, all of the above? Who knows.
Monday the fly on the wall, found me watching CNN. A special about sexual predators working at Disney World, Sea World, Universal, and other theme parks. The one I remember most lived life as a preacher. Sounded like a familiar story.
Eventually sufficiently creeped out, I turned the television off. Pondering the things I just learned, I picked up my Ipad and began a search. Center of Missing and Exploited Children.
Shaking inside and out I called, simply to see what could be done to report someone who preyed on me over 35 years ago. I am pretty sure I let out an audible gasp when she said she would take my report, and the information would be shared with the authorities. I do not look for him to be punished for the things he did to me. At least not in the here and now, but the thought of him continuing to prey on victims…My voice no longer silent.
For a couple of days his memory haunted me. Fears. More memories, smells, more memories…restless.
My medication has been tweeked too, and I think in the wrong direction. So I know that this seems much more grandiose to me than it is.
Last but not least, I cannot deny my heart many many tears, as I prepare to say see you later to my sweet boy Enos. He has degenerative back disease, past surgery on multiple disc. He can no longer walk, or turn over when lying down. We have to hold him up for him to do his “jobs”. He is getting where he is in a good bit of pain. My heart is broken for my baby. He has slept with me since we rescued him seven years ago. He is my smallest dog, and since I was never blessed with my own children, my dogs are my babies. Enos lets me dress him and do what ever with him. I love that little guy so much.
Free Sowing. It’s a gardening term that my therapist taught me as she gifted me some parsley, basil, and chia seeds. It means seeds that do not require much tending to grow.
The last year and a half, I have required so much tending and care, that I am happy to be at my free sown phase. I have happy days. I have real moments when the dark foggy abyss abates, and I feel the sunlight on my face. Those moments are longer and longer. Words cannot adequately give gratitude to how that feels.
The pivotal moment for me occurred when I saw my friend on the street and presented with the opportunity to tell him forgave him. I reiterated I knew his daddy caused him to do the things he did to me. Something happened that day, he told me that he was wrong, relating also, his father often told him to do things he should not have done. I was no longer the only one saying these things happened. I no longer doubted my memories. A tender mercy that I prayed for, answered very directly. My husband witnessed his confession as he sat silently in the car beside me.
Since our conversation, surprisingly, days passed without a thought of the abuse or my abusers. The long-awaited mental reprieve granted. Not to spread all sunshine and roses, some days are still hard, but many more happy days of light than before.
What of my alters?
They still remain vigilent. I am learning to live with them and they me.
Gidget fulfills her job as protector, and gets quite upset if I do not let her do her job. She speaks up in situations that I should speak up and don’t or won’t. She also loves to laugh and play jokes. A few weeks back my husband and I went on a date. Gidget came out. I had shrimp on my plate. When she allowed me to come back there were green beans in a smiley face with one shrimp as a nose staring at me. Apparently she had told Mother she was not going to let me eat all the food at the restaurant. She really likes Ole Times, and shrimp.
Squirt, or Little Shanna, her feelings are so tender. She has been happier. She watched Curious George a couple of times. Mother said she gave her a play- by-play of what George was doing. She still has some of her fears, but she is feeling safer.
Adrian. I do not know what to say about Adrian. Mother can talk to her and get through to her. She does not like me, AT ALL. She is very angry. Though relatively quiet the last few weeks, she still makes part our “family”.
I suppose the dream of being “normal” – alter free- when I started to feel better, isn’t going to happen. They are my normal. Learning to live with them and accepting this part of my life is key.
During therapy yesterday Dr. R mentioned the movie The Three Faces of Eve. Since The MeanOne has come out fighting this week, I feel like I need to understand what is going on with me.
Watching the movie helped me understand somethings that I have been trying to understand, the way they communicate, among themselves, and with me. Having these awful headaches more frequently also, a similarity.
I hate being like this. I have always been the person to take care of everything. I handled our bills, dealing with any and all business for us. Now if the slightest ripple in the plans or transactions happen, that rock my boat, that cause me any negative emotion The Mean One thinks of it as an open invitation to take over.
In therapy we discussed acknowledging her and her anger. Last night when she came out at something so minor and stupid, I did just that. I tried to acknowledge her anger. I begged her to tell me why she was so angry. That seemed to make her more angry. Little Shanna then pushed her way forward, and was so scared. She asked for Mother. I am proud of her for doing that. Tracy called Mother for her and Mother was able to calm her enough for me to push back forward.
I have debated writing about this over the last couple of days, but I know that I would do myself and my readers a great injustice by not writing it. This blog serves as my journal and our voice.
DID 1 (Photo credit: Vlad OFP)
As you have noticed I have not written in several days, the reason behind this is the level of my anxiety has been extremely high. It began Sunday with a blow up with a step-daughter, that ended unresolved, and remains unresolved, and will probably remain unresolved. I just need to let it go, and do the things that I have said I would do, nip it in the bud when she starts taking life out on me, ending it right there and then, not allow myself to be her emotional punching bag. I allowed this conversation go on much longer than I should have, each time she would throw her verbal artillery at me, I defended, allowing myself to release pinned up anger from the last nine years, thinking somehow that I would feel better. I do not. Though I do not feel bad about the things I said or did, I, in no way feel “vindicated” for by my words, just heavy and negative for letting go on so long.
Then Tuesday, I had a doctor’s appointment. I get very anxious to go to this doctor’s office because the waiting room is full, that and it is my internist. I knew that I had let my diabetes, my blood pressure, and cholesterol fall on the back burner. Though this doctor has the absolutely most amazing bedside manner, I still feared being scolded, no matter how gently it would be.
As I stood in front of the mirror brushing my teeth and trying to calm my nerves, Little Shanna, began to express her nervousness. I tried to reassure her, letting her know how nice the Doctor was, and that I was just nervous, but that we would be okay. Then I heard her the other voice, “You be quiet, I’ll take care of the squirt.”
I was confused and shocked. Little Shanna, this third identity, and I talked. The third, not nicely at all, she was upsetting Little Shanna and I tried to calm her. I would ask her name, she would laugh and give me a different name every time. She has given me the name Sharon, Sally, Susan…the worst was when she laughed and said Legion and continued to laugh. I tried to rebuke her in the Name of Jesus Christ, but she laughed, and she knows that she and I are part of one, and she isn’t going anywhere. When I realized I was still brushing my teeth my mouth was bleeding.
I ran to my bedroom hurried to get dressed, so that I could get out to my parents house. I was terrified. She laughed, the most awful laugh. I do not know if you remember me telling you about the experience with the smoke and fire trucks, it was that same laugh. I thought that was Little Shanna at the time. I remember even then I said, she seemed older than Little Shanna that day, now I know why. That day she told me she would exploit all my fears. She has repeated that many times the last few days.
I hurried out to my parents. Went to my Mother’s room where she was getting ready, and Daddy laying on the bed, through my tears, I told them. “There is another one.”
We went to the living room and almost immediately Little Shanna came out. She needed Mother to know she was scared. She talked to Mother more than she usually does. She kept saying she was scared. I cannot remember what else Mother said she said. In the middle of comforting Little Shanna, the other one pushed forward.
Mother said she looked very mean. Mother told her to leave but she laughed that laugh that I always hear, and said, you can’t make me leave. Mother called on the name of Jesus Christ to make her leave and she went back in, she was still tormenting me from the inside though. Daddy said he could hear the laugh all the way back in the bedroom.
My days are running together, I think it was that night that I was sitting here and I heard Little Shanna whispering to get my attention. I asked why she was whispering. She said she did not want the “mean one” to hear her. I do not know how the brain of the DID works, or if that is just the mind of the child not wanting someone else to hear her. Anyway, she said, “Killing people is bad, I didn’t want to kill you. It was the mean one.” If felt like she was implying that the “mean one” had made her say those things about killing me when she wanted me to commit suicide.
Another disturbing conversation, I think this was yesterday, but it could have been Tuesday also, was The Mean One telling me that ”I can force my way out and pretend it is you, a bitch and make your life hell and no one will know, but you cannot pretend to be me, everyone will know, sucks to be you.’” The prime example of this is Christmas with the family right before little Shanna came. Little Shanna cries like she does because she is scared of The Mean One, and upset of the situation that caused The Mean One to come.
It is so scary having something so mean, sinister, inside you. I wish I could understand DID. Living it blindly scares me. Going solely on my own experience I feel that Little Shanna only has my memories as a child. The Mean One, pretty much access to everything. I do not know how to control her.
I just don’t know, I suppose we’ll see. Thank you for reading. If you are a person of faith, I would not mind extra prayers right now. I am having a hard time dealing with this.
Funny how the mind picks things to ponder on. This morning will waiting for Roscoe and Enos to finish their “business” outside, my mind drifted to how we judge people, we being me.
I try really hard to walk the path my Savior, Jesus Christ, asks. He commands us to be merciful. Yes we obey he laws of the land and execute righteous judgement in prosecution of criminals doing so, but within ourselves and while dealing with offenders our charge command is to be merciful.
Why is that? Does it matter? Not really. I think though in addition to the fact that in order to being able to receive the gift of mercy ourselves we must be merciful, there is another piece to it. We cannot see inside of an individual like out Savior can. We have not watched their daily struggles or successes, and seen what brought them to this point
Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables comes to mind. Jean ValJean, imprisoned for stealing a loaf of bread.. He was not a mean or a cruel thief, he stole because his nephew was starving. We received a huge prison sentence for this. When released he could not find work because of his past. Eventually going to a parish, he steals the silver. This time however, the priest shows him mercy, and explains to the constables that the silver was a gift, and even goes so far as to give him a candlestick that he missed. Because of this kindness, not only ValJean’s life was changed, but many others.
I am not saying if someone breaks in to our homes to say, “oh you forgot this.” I am saying that we can be more freely forgiving, more free to offer the hand of fellowship, free to serve those that are least serve-able
I could be completely wrong in this hypothesis, but I feel if people exhibited more charity and mercy, there would not be a need for so much “justice”. Some of those, especially the youth, that are acting out, and fall into the jaws of justice would feel compelled to change because they would see their worth as human beings and as sons and daughters of God.
Such would be my hope.
Thanks for reading. Have a wonderful Saturday. ~Hope
Mentally busy today updating my OS on my Macbook and then trying to figure out how to get Zemanta on my blog. Oh how I have missed Zemanta.
Really the goal has been to keep my mind off of my doctors appointments tomorrow. When I go to therapy and my psychiatrist, the waiting room is generally not too crowded, but my internist and my pulminologist, oftentimes it is standing room only. So my anxiety as already started, go figure.
Wow I did not realize what time it was, it is already time for me to cook dinner for the hubs. Where is he? Hmmmm…Yeah, that is a phone call to make, wish I had not noticed the time.
This morning began with my nerves on edge, I am not really sure why, I was just off. Now I realize it was an omen. I decided after I finished a couple of things around the house that I would wander down to my parents.
Let the adventures begin.
We uninstalled their old tv, installed a new, uninstalled the new, and reinstalled the old. Come to find out Vizio HD TV’s do not work well with DirectTV’s standard receiver, and that is a gross understatement. The picture was awful. I do not blame it so much on the Vizio TV as I do DirectTV and Vizio not playing well together. So it was back to their standard def, that looks high def, and then working on installing the ROKU on the TV in another room.
While working on their tv, the hubs called and said that he just left Comcast and they did not have the correct modem for us. Yeah, the one they said they had, and were noting in the system for us. So I called Comcast and let them know just how unhappy I was. This was the hubs second trip to third trip to a Comcast store. I thought I had someone who knew what she was doing, and she stated our correct Gateway would be Priority shipped on their dime plus credits for the time we have been without. I THOUGHT she had it all together, that is until tonight. I’ll go into that in a moment. I don’t know whether to say bless her heart or mine.
When I walked in from my parents house the hubs was hanging up from talking to Comcast. He had actually picked up another SMC (AKA piece of poop), he was activating it. However when he hung up, nothing was activated. Nothing. So he said something like, “Tag you are it.”
I called Comcast. I talked to a really nice young man. I did however, cover up the phone a few times to laugh. He sounded just like the guy from the original Children of the Corn, the one that says, “He wants you too Malachi.” This guy was super nice though, thankfully. He worked with me for a long time trying to activate it, but nothing. I told him my assumption was that it was never set to factory settings, that they just gave us a pooped out one. He agreed. My reasoning came from not being able to use the factory user name and password to get into the gateway user panel. Okay, geek talk.
Our conversation ended with, “I’m sorry you are going to need more technical help than I have.” Sigh. I really did not want to call back.
Now, since I have dealt with these messed up modems for several weeks now, I know how to do a factory reset. I looked it up on my phone to make sure. Low and behold, after I did that, I could get into the gateway AND we could connect. It still buffers because it is a SMC piece of work.
So I am sitting here relieved when what happens? I get an email from Comcast. Yay, my email works. Wait, what does this say??? It states my bill is going up from $72 to $86 month because of my “new modem”. What the heck? I am naughty word angry now. I have done the work for your technical support and you still have given me a piece of poop and charging me extra for it. I. DON’T. THINK. SO.
My husband said if they want to do that then we need to put K-Y all over that modem and tell them where they can put it. I must say, that is tempting. Even more so when I tried calling them to ask about it and they said they were closed for the day. 24/7 Customer Service my big toe.
Have I mentioned that i do not handle stress well? Wow, I think I need to find a Xanax and try to calm down. I am about ready to try the stress reliever below.
Can I just ask who turned my Friday into a Thursday??
Photo Credits: whatishowto.net
I really hate days like today. My anxiety is through the roof. I have been working on my to list, each item giving me a greater measure of anxiety as I move to it. You would think that completing items would give me a sense of accomplishment, not so much right now. I am putting the completed items on my calendar, because I am pretty sure I will not remember accomplishing them.
Several items include dealing with other people over the phone. I have been okay with that, today I try to practice breathing and now listening to music to calm myself. So frustrating.
Yesterday I was looking at my Ipad and saw messages from a friend of mine. He sent me pictures of the beach that he lives near with snow on it. That was interesting. Even more perplexing, January 8th, I sent him a message, that I do not remember sending. It is a simple message, “LOL! It was 17 here with a wind chill in single digits. Crazy weather. Oh HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!‘ He then sent me a message back apparently and asked, “How are you guys doing?” I did not respond. I always respond to him. I do not know what was going on the 8th. Was I dissociated? Maybe I had a migraine and just do not remember. The 8th was his birthday, but I am pretty sure if the date had registered with me on the 8th, then I would have also remembered Grandmother’s death. That is the anniversary of her passing.
Today as I work on my lists, I want to do nothing more than climb in bed, and pull the covers up to my nose and tell the world, “You can’t see me.” I want to sleep. Sleep it all away, disappear under the covers, and hope to wake in a magical world. But lately my dreams aren’t magical, they bring nearly as much stress as being awake does. Nemesis from this world finding me in my dreams and preying on my innermost thoughts and struggles.
At the moment I am waiting for a callback from one item on my list. My attorney for my disability case. I suppose that I am anxious about that conversation, because I know that the last few times that I have talked in-depth about disability, an angry Little Shanna, and the other personality comes out. I am so tired that I do not know that I want to face that today, but any day will be the same.
My husband complains today about being sleepy. I mention to him that it is most likely because he snored and needs to replace his CPAP mask. He then said, “No I was referring to someone else staying up all night.”
I looked at him questioning. I told him that I slept all night for change, or I thought I did. He goes on to say that I kept him awake messing around on my laptop.
Why do I find this so disturbing? I went to sleep before him. I woke up to go to the bathroom and he was still awake. We joked, and I went back to sleep. I do not remember waking up until Daisy started barking at 5:00. I told her to go back to sleep and I did the same. She woke me up again at 6:00, and I went did the morning routine that my husband normally does with the dogs on the weekdays. Letting them out, feeding them, and watering them.
I then came to check my email. Looked up a few things, and wasn’t on the computer long before I was sleepy and turned it off.
I have no recollection of being on my computer during the middle of the night. I do not know who was or what they did. It really bothers me. I really do not like this. Photo Credit; colormegreen.areavoices.com
“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”
I want to introduce myself to those who are new to my blog, and re-tell my story to those that have been with me the whole journey.
So what started me blogging, and why Narnia? Narnia as you know is the place of C.S. Lewis’ creation. It is a place where children went and lived as Kings and Queens, having magical things happen. Aslan was there to protect them and guide them. You wanted to be in Narnia. For me Narnia was the woods behind my childhood home, my parents home. The home they still live in.
Last year I began blogging soon after I realized the life I thought I had lived, was not exactly the life I lived. I remembered the Narnia of my youth; however, this time it was marred by one of my playmates when he orally raped me. I was only five. He was 12 or 13.
After the event I suppressed the memory deep inside, yet there was one who always remembered. That five-year old girl.
Through this last year my life consisted of weekly therapy appointments, medication changes, many tears, so much support from family and friends, prayers, questions, and more soul-searching than one person’s brain can endure in such a short time. I have been diagnosed with PTSD and DID. I originally went for help because of my depression and anxiety and with help dealing with an adoption fraud…Then Pandora’s Box opened. You can read about that
To say that this has been an emotional roller coaster is the understatement of the past five centuries. Learning that you have a child living inside you, a child that kept such a horrible secret from you out of fear and to protect you…and your rapist. Going from fear to love, fear to love, every time you see him in public now. Trying so hard to forgive, just when you think you have forgiven him, you see him and hear her screaming. I rarely leave home now, except to go to my doctor appointments.
I think throughout the year if you name an emotion I have felt it for Shanna. That’s her name. We now have a sweet and tender relationship, almost like mother and child. I want to protect her. Show her the world. Let her know it is okay. She is so pure.
Recently in therapy we discussed the possibility of another alter because of a personality that does not seem like me, nor does it seem like Shanna. This personality seems to manifest when I am under a lot of stress and right before Shanna comes out. She is very loud, angry, fault-finding, and uncontrollable. Not like me. Shanna just cries, and talks like a child talks if at all. Sometimes I co-exist with both personalities but oftentimes they push me so far back that others have to tell me what happened. I do not know if there is another alter, if this is another alter, they have not told me their name. Nor shared it with anyone. However, some very strange things have happened that cannot be explained, that makes me seriously wonder. I do not know, I am just very grateful that Shanna and I are friends now, and that we trust each other. Things were so bad with her for a while.
I am new to this whole world of DID. Anyone with any help or advise would be appreciated. I am new to PTSD also, but at least with it, some of my past actions and reactions are explained, and as irrational as the PTSD mind can get you still see the how and the why and understand. With DID, you feel crazy, I can’t speak for others, but I do, because I do not understand it.
What are my goals? I am working to become a well and whole person. I have come to realize it is a long and difficult journey, not for the weak. I began blogging to help myself, but also to help others in the same or similar situations. I invite you to come along with me on my journey to wholeness. Some days you will laugh. Others you might cry. Some days I will not blog about my mental health at all, normal days are wonderful gifts, and I cherish them. Together we will reclaim my Narnia and yours.
I look forward to meeting you and sharing this journey. I always welcome comments and discussion. Please know that even if you do not have mental health issues or someone with mental health issues, still come on along, the more the merrier!
Something new that I have done with my blog is opened two new pages.
Q & A: Ask me anything. I will try to answer. I will not give details of my rape.
Guest Bloggers: I love reading blogs, looking at pictures, poetry, etc. Would you like to be a guest blogger. Jump over to my guest blogger page.
We are an army against the negative stigma that we face, but we are also fighting our own individual battles.
Reclaiming My Narnia 