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I'm not sure why I feel like I need to write this on OOTS, but I keep thinking it, so I'm going to follow through.

To Hope (five-year-old part of me/not to be confused with Hope who is a integral member of OOTS):

You told two people. You told Therapist and you (through me) told Friend. You told how what they did affected your body for your whole life. Therapist and Friend knew what those men did and they were not surprised by what you told them. They said it made sense. You are NOT ALONE with that secret any more. NOT ALONE. Two people who care about you know. They do not think you are bad or dirty. They feel ? sad did they say? I don't remember. Therapist said that secrets make embarrassment and humiliation bigger and that people knowing make those smaller. Now two people know. They care. They understand. They heard your hurt and fear and humiliation you have carried alone for so long. I know you still hurt and I don't know if anything makes that go away. ALL THAT stuff:  the abuse and effects really happened; can' t erase it. But the part you shared today, two people know and you are not alone.

My therapist has given me permission to email him between sessions. Usually I email him once, sometimes even more if things are super-bad, occasionally no emails between sessions. Normally he responds back, although it can be several days. There have been a few times when he didn't get back to me, for various reasons.

On Thursday I sent him a lengthy email regarding a very difficult and upsetting discussion with my husband. (I might post about that later.) Today is Sunday afternoon. I haven't heard from my T yet. My session is tomorrow morning so maybe I won't hear from him. It is so hard for me when he doesn't respond. I hate it that I am so needy that I am checking my emails every 30-60 minutes to see if he has responded. Then I have to fight the messages in my head:  "He is tired of hearing from you and is trying to give you a clue." "Your problems are too big for him and he doesn't know what to say." "You are bothering him." "He's dead." (No kidding--that comes to my mind.) I try to counter with other thoughts: "He has told you it is okay to email." "He is probably really busy." "Maybe there was a technological glitch."

The messages used to come into my head after a day of waiting. This time it has taken four days, so maybe that's growth?

I HATE feeling so needy and desperate.

I am coming out of a triggered state (EF) that started last night. I think it was last night. . . it seems like a week ago. It was pretty bad. I knew I was in a triggered state and I even knew the reasons why. I suppose knowing how things connected to the past kept me from spiraling even further. I even tried two online crisis support sites. One said no one was available to chat and to come back later. The other had 14 people in line ahead of me to talk to someone. Oh brother. I wrote and posted here, but then 10 minutes later removed the post. Taking two xanax got me through last night. Still wasn't doing great this morning, although not as bad. I texted some friends. Their responses and mostly their kindness and love helped me to feel cared for and that I wasn't alone. I made it through work today. I am doing okay right now, but a little afraid to go to bed. I feel like I'm still near the vortex.

Feel the need to connect, so that I why I'm posting this. 

For those of you with DID (dissociative identity disorder), have you told others; family, friends? If so, please share whatever you are comfortable telling about that experience. My T has brought up the possibility of telling my H and maybe even my children (in their 20's) about my DID. I also wonder about telling some close friends. If I decide to disclose, I would probably do it in a session. Looking for advice.

Just want you all to know that I care even though I am not responding to many posts right now. Life is high pressure and exhausting right now. Wish I had more to give.

Today I washed windows---downstairs. Got some done, felt overwhelmed, had lunch, washed more. Now feel like I have hit a wall and am feeling overwhelmed again. Why can't I just do a task, finish it, do more tasks, then enjoy the day. It is a beautiful day and instead of being out enjoying it, I am under my weighted blanket and I feel guilty for wasting the day. I just want to be a normal person! My T said, "Your wounds are invisible to most people, but it doesn't make them any less disruptive or exhausting to live with." That helps some with the guilt. Tired of this unseen burden. 

Will do some meditation.

Today was one of those days where every task felt difficult. Put laundry in washer.  Run an errand.  Send a text.  Make a phone call.  And so forth. . . Throughout the day I worked on grounding.

Then I had to go to a wake. It was about an hour away to an area I wasn't real familiar with. I drove and drove. Got lost. GPS froze. Drove for about two hours. Stopped and asked directions. Was told, "that's a long way from here." Obviously not helpful, but I was at the edge and would have burst into tears if I asked anyone else. Got into my car, started crying, sobbing. I'm going home. I didn't know where I was. I was like a little girl lost in the grocery store, past the point of panic and looking for mom; to the point of sitting in the aisle sobbing, except I was driving. I called my husband. (He's out of town.) I was able to tell him what street I was on. I didn't know what direction I was going. He asked me where the sun was. He was able to give me some direction. (I was at least heading the right way.) Still crying, called a friend. She gave me more direction. I did get to the funeral home. By then I was together enough to put on the face and interact. Didn't stay long. Made it home.

I think the most upsetting part is that I fell apart. Usually, no matter how awful things are on the inside, I manage to put up a front and do what I need to do. I might be pretty un-functional, not together when I'm home, but not when I'm out. The whole experience was scary.

[to want]

I am terrified to do this journal, but I think it might be good support for me. We will see if I am brave enough to post.

In case you didn't see my other post, I am 7 years old. Notalone is our big person. There is a whole lot about me to tell, but I will tell little bits at a time, as much as it isn't too scary.

I will start with this problem. My T has been on vacation. I will see him Monday. I am looking forward to seeing him and that is the problem. I'm supposed to take care of all the kids inside (although Notalone says that she is big now and she can do it). That is all really complex and a story for another time. So I don't want to want to talk to him. I don't want to trust him. A long time ago, we had a T who we trusted COMPLETELY. All that is really complex too. I have huge hurt about things that happened. I don't know if I will ever talk about that in session. Notalone has talked about it some. Big pain. Why do I keep wanting people to know me and hear me and care about me?

I have colored with my T and played a game with him (I won). I have told him some things. Last time, I told him a big thing. I told him that it was okay if he hated me. He said he didn't have any negative feelings toward me.

It makes me scared and mad and mixed up that I want to be with him and talk to him.

I am really confused. 

Worked my three hour shift this morning with a splitting headache. Got a few things at the store then went home. I wanted to take something strong enough to knock out the headache, but I don't have anything. Took more Tylenol, laid in bed, listened to music and dosed off and on most of the day. It made me think of when I was young and I would have a stomach ache. Not really bad enough to stay home from school, but I would stay home. When I was a child, it was a relief to take a day off from pretending, and no one abused me when I was sick.

Headache is minor with the help of Tylenol. I have so much to do, but emotionally feel like 

[I cannot cryBecause I know that's weakness in your eyesI'm forced to fakeA smile, a laugh everyday of my lifeMy heart can't possibly breakWhen it wasn't even whole to start with]

I listened to this song about ten times today. It could have been written by me about my mother. Cried some, which is a relief. I don't cry easily. (I made some lyrics bold print.)

Because of you
Kelly Clarkson

I will not make
The same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break
The way you did, you fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known
Better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life
Because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid
Because of you
Because of you

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Kelly Brianne Clarkson / Ben Moody / David Hall Hodges
Because of you lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management Inc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCkOlbL_WVs&list=RDMMhCkOlbL_WVs&start_radio=1

This is really scary to send, but big "notalone" said it was okay to write on here. So, I am E. My real name is not just a letter, but it is too scary to tell my whole name. I am seven. This weekend we went to our friend M.'s house. (Her real name is a whole word too and not just M.) She knows me and she understands stuff. We brought our bear. She knew about our bear, but had not seen him, so she was happy to meet him. We stayed over night. When I went to bed I felt like I wanted to stay there forever because I feel safe there. Today we went for a walk and colored, but I was mostly in the background. Then after lunch, big "notalone" said, "E would like to sit next to you and watch a movie." So I did. M had her soft, fuzzy, pink robe on her and she put her arm around me and we watched a movie about a dog. I told her I wanted to just stay there. We talked about the movie a bit during it. (It had a happy ending.) Then we had to go. Big notalone is a mom and wife and has a job and lots of big things to do. Before I got into the car I cried because I didn't want to leave. I just wanted to stay there where I feel safe and don't have to pretend anything and hide. M said I can come back any time that big notalone says it is okay and she held me and I cried. In truth, I don't know how much big notalone drove home. Of course I am not supposed to drive because I am only seven. So I just feel sad. And now I need to try and go away because we are home and big notalone has a husband and she needs to spend time with him. (He doesn't know about the rest of us.) Notalone said it was okay for me to write on here that some people would understand and the there might even be other seven year olds. It is so hard to have to hide all the time. I hope this is okay to send and I won't be in trouble.

I had a flashback on Wednesday. It wasn't a "bad" memory. If someone didn't have context and heard the story, they might even think it was cute. But it was about my grandfather, which makes it horrific for me, even though it was not an incident of abuse. The scene has replayed in my mind at night. This morning I was struggling with it, I think because I see my T tomorrow, so it is very present in my mind. I used various tools, including Walker's steps for amygdala hijacking (EF). It helped.

Then I went to church. The Bible passage that the message was based on was a passage that is very triggering for me. (I won't go into details about why it is a trigger.) I left after a few minutes. I think leaving was a good decision.

So now I have my weighted blanket over me and will watch something on T.V. I think even three weeks ago those things would have sent me spiraling into a full amygdala hijacking. So I will keep using tools and try to keep my head above the waves. If I do go under----I will try not to beat myself up. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I am so grateful that I am not on this journey alone and that my friends on OOTS are part of my support team.

I haven't been on OOTS for over a week and hope to catch up a bit today. I have missed all of you. 

During my last plunge into crazy-land (EF), my therapist sent me an email telling me to slow down. That is what I have been working on the last couple of weeks. I made a chart of the tools he has given me and am being intentional about practicing those tools. (I wanted to tell more details, but part of me does not want things disclosed, so I deleted.) I pay for my sessions out of pocket  so because of that and MANY other reasons, it's difficult to just be getting my toes wet in a session (going slowly), instead of diving into the deep end. I do see the wisdom it going slowly from what my T has said and also what I have heard from some of you. (Grateful for your experience and advise.)

There are some things about my current part time job that are stressful because of my c-PTSD. Other things are frustrating and would be a reason to leave even if I didn't have that complication. I've been looking into getting a new job for awhile. The last two weeks, I have applied and then gone through numerous hoops to get this position.  It has been discouraging and overwhelming. Just finished another hoop.  I know someone who has done this job for a few years and really likes it. She has been helping me through this process. If I didn't know her and that she was happy doing this job, I would have quit trying. So far a lot of time and no money. I will keep my old position until I know this new one is going to work for me, so for awhile I'll have two part-time jobs. 

Somehow I managed to work a three hour shift today. Inside feels crazy. It is like a tornado and sometimes I am sucked up by the tornado and feel everything at once: not being believed, having to pretend and function, shame, anger, crazy, overwhelmed, deep sadness, self-loathing. . . Then the tornado spits me out and I still feel and see everything flying around me, but don't feel like I am totally loosing my mind. Then I get sucked up by the tornado again. 

I started posting yesterday, but didn't feel worthy of  wasting everyone's time. This is so hard. Does it ever end? The pain feels unbearable.

Brief history: Was in therapy decades ago. Then I functioned fairly well for many years. Things started falling apart and one year ago I started individual therapy.

Today is the one year anniversary of beginning this round of therapy. It would be very easy to look at the mountains ahead and feel discouraged, defeated, and down on myself. There have been a lot of times that felt like I had fallen into deep, muddy crevices and spent a fair amount of time there. The winding, rocky terrain has been a slow three steps forward, two steps back. I am still trusting that Jesus is leading me on this journey. Although slow and difficult, I am believing that even the times stuck in the mud have had meaning and purpose. Here are some gains or growths in the last year.

•   Have gone from thinking that if I did not get every detail of a memory correct, I could not trust the memory, to knowing that the memories don't need to be recalled perfectly to have significance and validity.
•   Learned about grounding, been practicing grounding and am getting better at it.
•   Previously, when I tried to take a deep breath, it felt like an iron cage around my chest and stomach. Now I am usually able to take deep breaths. I only feel the iron cage occasionally instead of almost all the time.
•   When I emailed my therapist, almost every time I would think (and sometimes write) that he must hate me, I am a bother to him, he must be sorry that I am his client. Those thoughts are less frequent and I am usually able to counter them with what he has said.
•   I've reached out to friends and have a core group that support me.
•   Got a part-time job. Even though it is really difficult sometimes, I am able to go to work and give to clients.
•   Taught one junior high class once a week, even though many times I was in really bad shape the night before.
•   Told my kids that I was sexually abused.
•   Most of wall of not believing myself has come down. Have gone from not believing at 75% to 15%.
•   Aware that there are different "Parts" and not freaked out about it.
•   Have gone from spending hours every day, on the floor, covered by a blanket to occasionally being on the floor with a blanket for a relatively brief length of time.
•   Have not self-harmed, even though the temptation has been present, sometimes very intensely.
•   Some of the Parts look like photos of me. (More acceptance that the abuse happened to me.)

For six days I've been drowning. Had a few hours with my head above water, I felt like a person. Now drowning again. The people see and think, "she's playing in the water," because I interact and act normal and do what needs to be done. But inside I am drowning and then more thoughts and feelings come and I am pulled even deeper into the water. Tried Walker's 13 steps. Doesn't work, doesn't fit. My T said breathe. He said lots more, but the most I can manage is a deep breath when I remember. I feel like I am going crazy.

They say the adult is supposed to reassure the little parts, but ALL the parts are in turmoil and confusion. What then? Just keep trying to come to the surface to take another breath of air before going back down?

On top of that, yesterday I was thinking about people who have left me (not related to drowning). Today I was at a restaurant and one of those people was there. Like the knife being turned.

Feel like I should delete this. So tired of being in so much pain and confusion that I am so focused on me. Is this taking care of me to send this? I don't even know.

I called in sick to work today. Feel guilty. Lied when they asked my symptoms. She probably didn't believe me because I don't normally lie so I'm pretty bad at it.  I've never called in sick for cPTSD issues. Have always forged ahead no matter how bad things were. Difficult therapy session yesterday. Might write about that later. Got through yesterday with friends and then xanax. Just can't face dealing with a new client today.   

I decided to share something that happened a couple of weeks ago; the impact is still with me.

I have struggled with believing my memories. My T said that my not believing myself has been a way for me to protect myself. That wall has been slowly coming down over the last year. A couple of weeks ago a large chunk was torn down. I am feeling raw and vulnerable, but it is also good. That wall that was there to protect me is now a weight and a burden.

Trigger Warning *********
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I had a flash memory of my grandfather forcing me to take a drink of alcohol. I told that to my T. It was very brief. We didn't talk about it much. It was a 5 second scene from my childhood. Six days after telling my therapist that memory, I was with my siblings and we were looking at photos. One of them told me that my Aunt had told her that her father (my grandfather) forced alcohol down her until she passed out. I hadn't told them my memory. My siblings know VERY LITTLE about my abuse. Their experience was different; apparently I was the selected one. Also, my sister said she missed our mother. I said that I know that their experience was very different, but mom gave me to grandpa. One of them said, "He (grandpa) must have really had her (mom) under his thumb that she sacrificed her daughter." I really was shocked that they didn't deny that she gave me to that monster or that they didn't defend her. So those two things: my aunt's memory similar to mine and my siblings reaction to my telling them that our mother gave me to grandfather, have caused a huge portion of my wall of unbelief (of my memories) to come crashing down.
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End trigger warning

I feel very shaky inside. Also, a bit like someone has turned a light on in a very dark room. Those things (stated above and much more) did happen to me. I'm not crazy. I am not making things up. I was abused. I was abused. I was abused.

I've seen these two phrases several times, but could find them in the glossary or acronyms. What is meant when people refer to "fleas" and "gray rock"? Thanks.