On Of Us Is Out To Lunch [TW, Read Cautiously]

[PaperClip]

My buddies seem to know safety before I do.  As soon as I started this journal they bubble to the surface.  Mattie doesn't like people.  Her being her is huge (Love you Mattie!). 

But this little girl kept coming up.  She wanted to write, but I told her she must use her own words.  (They learn right along with me.  I need them to be themselves in a sort. Plus, it's confusing to the outside world.) 

Over the last 2 days I have heard her voice and it's the first time I've heard anyone's voice in my head.  Everything else chooses to use though patterns - integrated ones, I guess. 

"I love you Mommy!"  is what I kept hearing.   This sweetness I met today in our quiet inner place on the beach is the very same I met at the T's office.  She's been a lone for a very long long time. 
===
She is never be alone again unless she wants to.  She can come out any time she wants in any place.  I don't care if anyone freaks out or is confused.  All that matters is that she stay close to me.   

I initially tried to treat her memory like I do for PTSD, the inner child work.  It helped her, but did not heal the memory.  This is the only way I can tell if it is a personality split or just the trauma.   If the base treatment doesn't work, I'm not dealing with my pain, but someone else's. 

And today was a revelation.  For the first time, I have a linear timeline.  There are some gaps, but I have a timeline from the start until now and so very much makes sense.  It just makes sense.  The pieces fit.  I feel more whole, like I have .. I dunno how to describe it.  I can look at "others" from the past and see more than one side - more than the pain.  I can drop the hate, but maintain the boundaries.  I feel as if I have ammunition, not to fight - but to buckle up and support myself and go forward and thrive better.  I feel more complete. 

And we have a new family member.  She's eager to play with the kids and so it shall be. 

There's an immediate fondness when I meet one.  I'll never understand others who have antagonizing alters.  I didn't understand when T tried to teach me how important they were.  I knew immediately even though I was in denial. 

I remember when T told me to go inside and make a place for them.  She went to great lengths and much detail about how to create an inner space for them - a place where I can go meet them.  I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was already there.  They had built an enormous place.  Her being wrong in many counts terrified me.  Now, I see the real reason is that she was recounting this ideal from textual studies and having watching other psychiatrist help patients.  She didn't have DiD so how was she to know? 

What's fascinating about this inner world and this precious child inside: 

I'll be fifty soon.  In my early thirties I drew a picture of a little girl in a dress - the same age as this one - standing on a sunny beach beneath a palm tree.  I'm not the sentimental type and keep very little.  I kept that picture for some reason.  I had that picture etched in my mind all these years. 

The picture is a replica of the exact location and scenery where she has lived all these years.  The picture was of her.   I cannot debunk this inner reality or her.  I cannot debunk anything she told me.  Years later as an adult, behaviors and attitudes from other people, especially FOO, and events absolutely confirm everything she spoke and those things from her memory.

I'm freer today.

[PaperClip]

b-

Samantha had Distinct Personality Traits Away from Others: 

Predatory,
Delayed Emotions,
Minimal Empathy,
Expensive attire,
Expensive car,
Meticulous home,
Did not like kids

She's still a *.

-m

[sanmagic7]

p.c., thank you so very much.  i personally feel, well, honored sounds so trite, special doesn't cover the feeling i have that you shared this.  i think i am in awe.  mostly because you sound so very comfortable with everyone.  i think that's fantastic.

also, that you knew that little girl so long ago, were able to depict her.  she sounds like she was the one to not only observe but contain what had gone on.  oh, i hope i'm not sounding disrespectful or anything, cuz i don't mean to.  i have so much respect for you and all the you's that have been helping you for so long.

the mind amazes me, always has.  when i was little i wanted to be a brain researcher, find out what was inside, how it all worked.  your word pictures have shown me more than any college course i could have ever taken.  you're absolutely right, how could any of us really know unless we experience it ourselves.

did you ever mention to your t about the complete painful dissociation and that you thought she had rushed things?  i think that would be very important for her to know.    i'd hate for you to have to go thru that pain again.

more important, tho, to my mind, is that you are feeling more complete.  i'm so very glad for that.  that kind of freedom  has got to be exhilarating in its own way.   i'm glad that little girl knows she'll never be alone again.  you seem very good for all the you's.  yay!

thank you again for sharing.  it shows so much determination, strength, and courage.  thanks to all the you's for their help in this.  warm caring hugs all around.

[PaperClip]

  san  I'm not offended and neither are you being disrespectful. Honestly, I can talk to anyone about anything at just about any time.  Be glad you are not f2f.  With people I don't know (like a therapist or clinician who know of the others) I'm hysterical in my behavior often speaking in run-ons, agitated, crying, sudden angry statements when asked quesitons, non stop talking with changing subjects, getting up and moving from chair to chair (without realizing it), poking the furniture, rubbing my eyes, OCD plucking my eyebrows while rocking myself in the chair, moving from deep sobbing tears to sudden stone cold facial features and rambling about some random probability figures with the beginning of a theory until I muster the strength to stop it.   Everyone is agitated and moving and saying all at once.   It is SO embarrassing. 

At home, I'm okay.  On the internet, I can bottleneck my thoughts and filter, get up and walk around or wash dishes and get grounded, then come back and finish the thought.  I need to talk about it.  Not at length or to be dramatic, but just for self acceptance.   

I'm sure so many can relate - at least in part - to some of these with anxiety, toxic sh$me and so much more.  It's all the same for dissociative spectrum, just I'm on the long end of it.  Less control, I guess. 

It really is fascinating, tho.


I freeze sometimes.  Just stop and sit while staring at the same spot as if I'm frozen.  Catatonic? Doesn't last very long .. maybe a minute or two?   but it seems to happen with new information, like it isn't quite registering in my brain.  It's fascinating.  In my head I'm like "HELLLLO?  Anybody home?"  haha

[PaperClip]

I know you're there, sweetie.          I'm so happy you're here.    I'm going to leave the chat box  open for you.     I know you can read.     I know you can type big words.   

Do not pretend to be me.  No more hiding.    It is safe.  Leave big words alone.    You be yourself.   I want you to be yourself.    Your small words are more beautiful than big words.  You are enough.   I love you wider than the earth, deeper than the ocean and higher than the moon. 

Tonight we snuggle with the kids.   Tomorrow you play legos.   

[sanmagic7]

fascinating is a good word for what goes on in our minds.  i dissociate to a degree, more depersonalization, but can also lose myself in being overwhelmed with a lot of new info, like in a doc's office.   i've had a gray personality show itself a few times, but didn't realize when it was happening what that was all about.  it's all on the same spectrum, i'm guessing. 

go ahead, write about it here.  as much as you want.  we definitely want you to feel welcome and accepted here.

all the symptoms you described, such as when in a t's office, of everyone showing up at once - is that what you meant when you said that when you took your watch off you lost control?  that all the you's would not/could not be contained anymore?  seems like there's some symbolism there if that's the case - like it was time to come out in the open for everyone.

yeah, i can definitely relate to being overwhelmed by too much new info told to me in a rush and i'm supposed to remember it all, make sense of it on the spot, and decide what i want to do with it.  nope, my mind will not do that anymore.    last time my d was with me at the doc's, she saw me begin to get anxious, squeezing my fists, tensing my muscles, and she touched me on the leg, told me she was there.

i had forgotten all about her and my surroundings.  that was the first time i consciously realized that i'd done that.  it was spooky.  i've talked to her about it, so she's more aware, too, and is very good about helping me out.  i can see how all those swings you described could be embarrassing.  we do want to be able to control our re/actions, don't we.  not always the easiest thing to do.

i'm very glad you have a safe place at home, tho.  your hub must be a very special person.  i admire you both.  i hope you keep getting it out here if it helps you accept.  that's cool.  warm hug filled with love and acceptance heading your way.

[PaperClip]

I'm so sorry that what you were feeling at the doctor's office was overwhelming so much that you dissociated.   That one touch.  A very small token of love expressed by your  d was so very powerful, not unlike my kids who say "Mom?  Need a hug?"  Just someone nearby to produce some love. 

I so understand the intensity of moments like this.  I live in them.  I'm guessing, but that's where the multiples come in.  When it is too hard, someone else takes over.  In the moment I can't see, much less think?  And so something needs to happen to keep life rolling along.   

I think these moments are riddled with multiple points of fears and multiple points of emotions at the surface and also coming from deep within and they happen all at the same time causing the dissociation.  My DiD does not diminish  your experience in the office AT ALL.  No. I think our minds are different. I think someone could have suffered the same traumas as mine, but their mind can handle it differently.  (I think a lot of DiD patients are want to exclude themselves from other trauma survivors and I find this unhealthy for me.) 

I have met my primary personalities and most of these were for different emotions in situations just like this -- one who is positive and bubbly to defeat depression and social interaction (everyone loves her), one that is socially manipulative and has no emotions so I could function well despite the pain in business and work, one gifted with the ability to turn off pain receptors so I could function despite physical abuse (as an adult, I already had the split skills, so it happened). 

MG there is one who took all of the dejection and rejection as a child.  She took all of them.  I found her in a replica of my old childhood bedroom in a corner like she was a piece of trash that had been thrown away.  My gosh I love her.  She's working to happiness now.  She grew, developed, has her needs met and even has gone through the typical angry stage as she realizes the truth.  She hated me for a while, but I didn't care.  I knew she was only growing.  There's no way I could have functioned without her taking on those burdens.  I've never committed S and it's because of her.  She took that pain.  We all owe her.

I try to complicate things with my husband, but looking back it was simple.  I did not know my diagnosis at that time.  I just knew I didn't want to leave him.  Even I would say to myself, "I feel safe with him."  I figured it was some supernatural force or his old house. Now I know, it's because he was safe. There was no abuse, unconditional love, no chaotic behaviors, no manipulation, no impulsiveness - just him and his daily routine.  And he loved me no matter what "mood" I was in.   He WAS KIND to me.  I never knew kindness before. 

The conditions were that he was already a loner having suffered from Asberger's all his life and the accompanying social discomforts.  He suffered abuse as a child, too.  But his intellect is very high and he hates drama and confusion and all the games people play.  He owned a book bindery when I met him.  He had just gotten started and I was eager to help.  I ended up secluding myself with him, his house and the bindery.  No more outside world except for the occasional customer and other brief acquaintances.

My buddies didn't need to do anything any more.  I didn't need Samantha to socialize, Deanna to fake happiness, Johnathan to physically brunt abuse, Deborah to take rejection and dejection, Mattie to think because he was doing the thinking.  I didn't need to keep track of time or fill in missing time, I just followed him and worked beside him, cooked the meals and ate with him at the same time every day and enjoyed his company and acceptance.  He would flip, and he was a rock.  He adored me.  He'd enable me in bad behavior if I chose.  He wasn't anything emotionally exciting to me, he wasn't a trophy or someone to please, but more a best friends with mutual hobbies.   Our first real fight didn't happen until six years following our meeting.  Life was hard then, so it makes sense.  Before that when we tried to argue, we would end up laughing.  We were desperately poor and life was hard, but it was a joy.

So, I was safe.  Totally.  To be myself.  No more facade.  The watch came off because I didn't need to control time any more.  I always thought I was being diligent with time and responsibility when, truly, I was watching the time for when it was the next person's job to come up and perform and justifying missing time.   If I was with my roommate, it was Deana's turn.  When I was at work, it was Samantha's turn and when I was in class, studying or an intellectual pursuit, it was Mattie's turn.  I see this now.  I, literally, never took that watch off and obsessed about its battery. 

When that happened, they slowly unraveled because they didn't have a role any more.  I relinquished some measure of control without realizing it.  I think that's the symbolism.  None of them knew what to do any more.  I was happy, but they grew restless.  I was NC with FOO and had left my old career, wasn't planning anything but living day by day.    For the first time, ever, life was stable.

I still didn't know about the others, but I became aware of the missing time and no longer justified it.  When I drove home to fix us lunch, sometimes, it took 3 hours for me to return to the shop with lunch.   My buddies would cease the opportunity while I was alone .. I don't know what they were doing, but I just remember the lost time.  I remember leaving the shop, entering the house and starting lunch .. and then nothing, sometimes only arriving back at the shop.  And really ... I was still in denial until my husband said something about it.  He was hungry, of course!

Then, the day/tasks at the shop would begin to blot out.  I didn't have a linear timeline of the day, but everything was okay, because I could perform a task that  was set before me.   This was especially true if we were in a hurry for a deadline.  Typical:  If there's stress or pressure on a task it's easier to focus and not get stuck in my head. 

Then came the pregnancy and the arrival of my son.  These brought me back into the outside world through doctor's appointments and such and my buddies tried to fill their roles, but their role was for a different life.  Here, we were poor and it was just different.  I was resistant to the outside for years which kept my son in too much isolation.  My mental illness grew and I did not realize it.  Next, came my daughter.  Then I became ill in the back.  Terribly ill for three years I could barely walk. 

In short, my neck was broken.  I was taking opiods, but not heavily.  Still, it aggravated my mental condition. Eventually, I was in a state of pain for which pain meds could not help.  I could barely walk and take care of myself, much less the kids.  Husband new this so he didn't work and our poverty folded in on us with severely. 

Living in a rural area, few are competent - including the doctors and the community is riddled with corruption, unbridled misogyny and a culture of abuse.  In physical pain and emotional confusion, I was forced to go and seek help from the medical field, but I would find the corruption and the abuse and become retraumatized all over again.  They erupted unhindered and I couldn't understand why I couldn't shut my mouth, harness my behavior in any semblance of discipline or why I was so terribly afraid all the time.  (They were trying to help, but they didn't know how.  I was actually getting better and didn't realize it.  They couldn't front entirely because home was safe and stability was there.  Here, the DiD emerged into a constant cycling through as each personality tries to contribute in order to find a way to help.  It's confusing. Agoraphobia set in deeply.)

That's when I sought therapy and the diagnosis was very easy for her.  We lasted therapy all of about 5 weeks with her.  We were a mess.  Then, came successful reconstructive neck surgery and I spent the next two years healing physically.  As I became more active, I healed physically and then I would heal mentally.  I had been, literally, slowly dying and I think suffered co morbidity with some type of dementia.   This was all about 5 years ago.  It has taken me 5 years to reach a state where I can make appointments for my kids and remember to keep them and not scare off all of the professionals when I visit.  I'm developing a quiet, a peace where I can be fully present in these situations for brief periods of times so the care and well being of my kids are not disrupted by a crazy mom. 

Jebus this is long.  I've never told anyone this, actually.  I sometimes wish I could put that baby blue sports watch back on, but I can't.  Seems there's no turning back. 

[DecimalRocket]

Jesus, Paperclip. That sounds extremely tough. It's amazing that you've come this far.

I don't reallt know what to say. But I just want to say that I read all that and listened. Every word. There'll be people who'll listen here even if it's long. Not always, but there will be. So feel free to come here.

Take care.

[sanmagic7]

sorry i can't write more - sick and no energy.  i think the story of you and your hub is beautiful.  so glad you found each other.  very interesting about the watch, the timekeeper, the roles and the 'when' that each one knew it was their turn to be present and at their jobs. 

yep - love and kindness go a long way to grounding and healing.  big hug and lots of love to you.

[PaperClip]

Thank you decimal rocket

Sanmagic, you are enough even if you are only quietly reading without responding.  K?  We love you bunches.   

You are enough.
You do enough.
You have enough.
And you are kind as you are.

PC

[Hope67]

Hi PaperClip,
I just wanted to say 'Hello' - I've read some of your journal, and I want to welcome you.  I hope you don't mind my popping by to say that, but I like your name, and relate to some things that you say.
Hope 

[PaperClip]

Thanks Hope! Peace and love to you. 

[sanmagic7]

thanks, p.c.  even when i'm sick, i still want to do everything, and get frustrated with myself when i'm not able.  ack!

love and a hug to you.

[PaperClip]

It's difficult to process my thoughts and new perceptions since Lyta's revelations.  I haven't spent time with her since then and it's intentional because of the pain.  But I honored my request and she has come forward on occasion, like the day I took out the trash.  Being outside probably prompted her to come forward and see everything.  There I was walking across the front of the property to my trash bin carrying a sack of garbage when, all of a sudden, I felt this immense curiosity to the enormity of my personal being.  It surprised me, how tall I am and also how big I am.  It felt odd to experience it.  "Wow. I'm so big!"  At the same time I wondered why I was having this sensation and thinking these thoughts, I knew.  Lyta had come forward with her feelings and thoughts.  I don't mind admitting this stuff is bizarre, but none the less real.   I slowed down my pace to allow her to enjoy while ensuring my body language was normal, because I was in public.  At that gesture she took leave.  I felt her slip away on the inside, not unlike something gently brushing up against me as it moves away. 
----
With the recent healing, I watch my perception.  I see enormous gaps in my parenting; mostly emotional neglect because I get so edgy.  The kids and I have worked boundaries and safe ways for them to cope, but it all seems so deplorable. Before I reach desperation I remind myself I cannot control this any more than I am doing.  I'm doing everything I can.  But am I?  I think not, sometimes, but I do try. 

Observation of my behavior indicates a release from my edginess, self absorption (as it seems on the outside) is not as heavy.  I can lift it easier now when my kids call me out.  I could do more after more work with the others, I know.   Still, having a new continuity in my timeline give me better perspective.  I try not to shun the past nor become unrealistic about the future.  Instead, I appreciate the moment more.

I started deep cleaning - something that has been in the works for months off and on.  I found photos of my FOO that were more than 20 years old and some even older.  These photos held no emotional bearing to me whatsoever.  There I was in the photos.  Oddly, I sensed that wasn't really me.  Even I didn't mean anything in those pictures.  I recall how important it was to my mom to have me "look good" which contrasted her perpetual confirmation that she "doesn't like a dog and pony show".  So many lies makes everything obsolete and without authenticity.  I was just an entity in those photos, nothing more.  In others: I had sad eyes and what looked to be a tortured soul.  You can see it so readily.  Those were taken by my ex. 

I trashed all those pictures.  All of them.  I didn't do it in spite, but symbolic of a new life.  I just cannot get over how those photos don't have meaning.  The last 15 years of my life have included tremendous hardship physically, financially, spiritually, mentally and emotionally but among the agony were extreme fits of unbounded joy, eternal love and a host of unbridled compassion from my husband.  Not once have I ever felt betrayed by him.   Perplexed?  Yes, but not betrayed.  Will this change?  Possibly, but he's full up on the karma cup.

The fist of the death grip from the past is losing power. A transfer of power isn't at play like I had once thought, but it transfuses into a release of my soul into the direction I choose.  Choices.  I never knew I had so many choices.  It's confounding but beautiful. 

Intuitively, I know I have a chance to heal my kids of all the harm I have caused them.  The studies prove that an alcoholic parent (I'm not an alcoholic, just using an example) that turns around in abusive behavior even half way generates more learning and improvement on the kids than any righteous foster parent could.  That means there's no one better for the job than me.  Despite my worst efforts that I can how see because of the release of some of the dissociation, I'm still the person for the job.  What a blessing and an honor. 
----
Because someone is reading this, I'm going to qualify that my son was 3 school grades behind.  I home-school.  We went into 5th grade with a 2nd and 3rd grade education and came out ready to hit 6th grade online public school independently.   And i'm sorry to say I put him through * to get there.  He aces his classes. Granted, the school curriculum is crap here.  I must supplement and I do prod him on occasion - not every day because I'm not always there.  He followed my and my husbands love of reading and learning and that helped tremendously.
---
Now, for the commitment:  His younger sister is much further behind because she is dyslexic.  I have been unwilling to go full force with her, because I don't want to put her through *.   Yet, since Lyta's revelations my attitude is different, more gentle and kinder.  I Have the ability to do things without such intensity and more able to stop and consider her emotional disposition, her needs instead of just forcing a task down our throats.   The intensity is gone.   But I won't know how much better this is until under stress.    But we must find out.   

If I remember to breathe, handle minute by minute being cognizant as much as possible of the moment and garner cooperation from the others, it will be easier.  We can do the education, but doing it kindly is what matters here. 
----
I'm emotionally treating my son as if he were a very little boy.  At first he thought it perplexing, but caved readily.   I spend less time in isolation and more time with them, watching them closely, interacting with them.  They balk at this.  Their brains are hard wired for their neglect, but I've begun changing all of this.  By neglect I only mean that they were required to fill empty spaces of time while I was "gone" mentally. 
----\
For years I've used the dogs as a barometer of how I am behaving.   Being co-conscious allows me to see the world, but not very clearly.  With painfully intense focus I can see through the eyes and observe something when one of my buddies were busy.   I used the dogs.  They would cower when Nelly was out retreating to the safety of their kennels more often than not.  When I'm around they are wagging their tails and exhausting me with their begging for treats.  It's a huge difference. 

Lately, they are relaxed.  They are neither taking advantage of my good mood, nor fearing angry outbursts.  I don't hurt them, min you.  Dogs are in tune to the emotions and these are of an intelligent powerful breed and well trained.   Neglect.  Again.  They would be neglected until I or Deanna came back around, but everyone always had their needs met.

And so it is with the kids:  the abuse of inconsistency and emotional neglect.  How do I amend this?  I think of normal stuff.   Normal people would make a decision to get up early and have b-fast ready or a linear thinking process.  Not so for me.  I must jump, hop and run around all the other thinkers in my head.  Intuition is true for all of us and that's all I've got in the heat of the moment, the brunt of the emotions running through me, the stark fear, the feelings of intense insecurity and all others, it is intuition that holds true - that small voice that says, maybe you're not feeling love at the moment but it's still there and you can act, you can do something that reeks of authenticity even for a few seconds. 

And yet, when my husband is home it is me they crave attention from.  They crave the love so though I may not remember someone is loving them so much that they have grown to depend on it being there, even inconsistently.   

My kids once looked at me as if to determine my mood.  They haven't done this in a long time.  The other day my daughter cleaned up a mess under my request and said, "Momma.  I cleaned this up.  You feel better now?"  I stopped.  I cupped her face and told her it wasn't about me and that I was sorry she felt as though life's tasks were about pleasing me.  She's extremely sensitive and often takes things to the extreme in my mind and heart. 

My daughter is still having crying bouts without knowing why.  It's a release.  She did it yesterday when I said, "I still love you honey. I always love you even when I correct you. I'm sorry I yelled at you when that happened (she had been hurling verbal abuse at her brother who has been the family scapegoat and I'm trying to end it), I will try not to yell next time.  It's old habit, but I was afraid.  I was afraid when you became abusive with your brother.  He loves you very much and I know you love him.  Both of you deserve better." 

She stood rigid and was internally processing what I said.  "You still love me when I'm a jackwagon!" I watched her face twist in Iknowthisfeeling face  "And  I love you just the same as you do me!"  She burst into tears admitting she didn't know why she was crying.  I had her snuggle up with me.  I shut up and just held her tight.  Soon, she was done with her grief and she was off and running to the next fun task. 

----
Note to self:  Six months ago my daughter was not opening up like this.  I've worked hard to pull her out of her shell and become emotionally available.  Be patient with yourself and her.  It's working.  Just keep doing. 
----
The guide for foster parents working with adopted kids has been helpful.  I'm memorizing this stuff and trying to implement the behaviors needed, like telling the kids what I"m going to do and why to undo the mental and emotional neglect.  They are responding well.

I need to start documenting this stuff.  So much to do...   

[Hope67]

  to you, PaperClip, if that's ok.  I read what you wrote - I think you write so well - so clearly - and with much feeling.  See you working out boundaries for your children, and for your self - it is positive.  I hope you don't mind my saying that. 

Hope