Power & Balance

Today I bought a Power Balance bracelet...
Why did I do this? My T suggested it.

I'm not sure if I believe that it actually works, but I'm always up for trying new things. What's great about this is that all I have to do is wear it on my wrist. No extra effort, thinking, or time. It either effects me positively or not at all. I might as well try this.

It will arrive in 5 to 7 business days.


*Bee

The Silence is Screaming

I don't have words, just a whole bunch of feelings. I'm warning you now, don't read on if you're easily triggered today. It's triggering me just thinking about what things I could write about today...

It feels like I'm constricted and suffocating. Sinking and drowning. Trapped. Anxious.

There's too much going through my head. Memories of abuse, torture, sexual monstrosities, murder. How did my fragile little self even survive this horror?

I am finally seeing whole faces of the main people involved, and I've been throwing up ever since. People I knew, and at one time possibly loved, people who were supposed to protect me, love me, nurture me. Now I see them as evil. Now I am afraid to be living in this house.

I so badly need my T right now. I need her support in this because I'm falling apart and I'm so so scared. I don't understand these things and I desperately need her guidance on finding the truth. Did these things really happen? because I don't believe I could ever make up something this bad.

All I can hear is their voices, their threats, their chants, their authority. My silent prayers, silent whispers, silent pleadings, silent pain.

I don't understand why people are involved in such horrible things.


*Bee

I'm Strong Enough To Do This

For those of you who have been following my blog, especially my last few posts, know that I've been having issues with my T. We were supposed to meet earlier this week - she cancelled. We were scheduled to meet today...she never showed up. I called her 5 times, left 3 voice-mails, and waited for over half an hour. She still hasn't called me back.

I left her office feeling like I had been abandoned and I felt so alone. I'm so sick of being treated like this every single time. I was so angry at her that I called another T that I had wanted to meet with a few months back. This new T answered right away and remembered who I was. I asked her if I could schedule to meet with her, and she happened to have a cancellation today. I said I'd be right over.

I ended up meeting with her today. I like her so far. She has worked with another DID patient before, although it has been a few years. This DID patient was not high-functioning and ended up stopping therapy after only a couple years into it. The new T told me she has worked with RA survivors before, one of them is currently still in therapy with her. She does not believe that integration is the answer for every DID patient, which I totally agree with! She is willing to work with me and is excited to work with me.

This seems all very new to me. I've had the same therapist for over 6 years now, so I feel very out of practice in finding a new one. I haven't told my current T about this new therapist... and I haven't told the new therapist about my current/old T. It's going to be a really hard thing for me to do.

It's been a very long day... I can't wait for the summer break, but at the same time I dread it.

Just one more week.

I'm strong enough to do this.


*Bee

Strength of Millions

(This blog post was supposed to be for Thursday, but Blogger was having issues)

I've always had to be strong.

I feel like I never had the choice to be anything other than strong.

I couldn't cry. I couldn't show that I was in pain.

I couldn't show that I was weak.

I couldn't write about it or talk about it.

Instead, I created people inside of me to carry the burden of always being strong.

Today, I felt as if I couldn't be strong anymore.

I found myself wanting someone to take care of me - someone to protect me so I didn't have to be so strong.

But there is no one. I sat in my car, driving around aimlessly, and crying my soul out.

I cried until I couldn't feel anything but numbness.

And now I build up my wall, stronger than ever, so tomorrow I can be strong again.

Never shall I ever show anything but strength. Because without this, I would break...


*Bee

Red Lines

I don't know where I am today. I haven't dissociated this bad in long time. By the way, half of those words had that cool little red squiggly line under them because I can't even manage to spell. And some more red lines. Hopefully I picked the right words.

Not seeing my T is real bad...she helps me stay grounded. 6 1/2 weeks with not seeing her has not been good. More red lines as I write. I hope this makes sense.

I tried to drive home from work today - it usually takes me about 10 minutes. Well...today it took me over an hour because I kept getting lost. I couldn't remember where my house was. By the time I got home I felt very awkward in my body and I kept falling over and tripping as I walked through my house. My dad asked me if I was drunk.

I've never had the experience of being drunk, but I imagine it feels a little like this.

I tried all the grounding things that usually work at least a little for me but nothing really stuck. I hope I can function tomorrow.

Nothing is processing. I hope this makes sense.

If not, I may delete it in the future.

Lots and lots of red lines I must fix...

A Letter to my T

Dear T,

In the last 6 weeks, I have seen you once.

6 weeks ago, we had the most difficult and rough session I've ever experienced. I was supposed to see you the following week, but you canceled. For the next three weeks, you canceled 5 more times. We were supposed to have a session so I could talk to you and process what we worked through. When we finally did have a session, it was three weeks and one day later. The session was rushed and in no way included a way for me to process through what happened.

I went to my pain doctor the next day and that is when he accused me of using THC. I called you as soon as I got to my car. Your response to this accusation was, "who have you been with in the last 3 weeks who would have access to THC?" I was so shocked by your response that all I could muster was the few names of people I had been around recently but none of them would do that. You told me that you would "think on it" and call me back the next day. I received no phone call from you.

Another three weeks has gone by and I have not seen you, talked to you, or received an email from you or any other form of communication. I've emailed 11 messages and called 3 times - leaving 2 voice-mails.

I'm angry with you. You know that I have a really tough time trusting people, including myself and my splits. You also know that I recently really began to trust my splits. I trusted them enough to know that none of them would ever do something to compromise that trust or all the hard work we have been doing, especially lately. None of them would put us, as a whole, at risk. Apparently you don't trust me or any of my splits.

I'm sick and tired of having to defend them because of your false accusations. At this time I cannot provide you specific examples, but whenever something goes "wrong" for me, you automatically accuse them. If I'm sick, you accuse them. If I can't sleep, you accuse them. If I've suddenly lost 15 pounds, you accuse them. The list goes on and on.

It has taken me years to be able to trust you with myself and to trust you with my splits. Right now, we all have lost our trust in you. We're seriously contemplating finding a new therapist - one who trusts us until we do something to lose it.

This is a very difficult decision to make, but at this time we feel it is vital to our healing process. We still have not decided if we should attend our session scheduled for this week. I'm sure if we wait long enough you'll cancel it anyway.


Sincerely,
Bee

Music Saves Me

To put it simply, this week has been hard.

Monday I had over 20 needles jabbed into my neck, head, shoulders, and jaw. It wasn't as painful as it sounds, it's the after effects of what was injected that truly caused pain. The doctor told me I needed to go to physical therapy to make sure the injections worked properly. My last experience with physical therapy ended rather abruptly when my pain got so bad that I couldn't move for several days. I told the doctor I wasn't going back.

Tuesday my younger sister sat in my classroom with me for three hours telling me all the abuse she has remembered. While I'm grateful that she has someone to talk to, who listens and who believes her, it's still really hard for me. I knew deep down that she was also abused but I always wished that it wasn't true. Now I know without a doubt that we were both abused. There are things I have never told a soul and she knew those things.

Wednesday I woke up extremely depressed like I did Tuesday and Monday as well. I was having horrible body memories all night long and when I did manage to sleep, I had distorted memories flooding through my mind. I was so worn out and exhausted. Teaching was a struggle but my students are so awesome. I am truly blessed to have this job.

Thursday was really strange. I had been battling a cold for a few days by this time but during the first period of the school day, my stomach was in an extremely high amount of pain. I had to sit down at my desk. Two hours later I had not moved and my pain had become worse. My aid told me I needed to just go home. I finally broke down and called my sister to come pick me up. Turns out I had gotten the stomach flu. Add that to the cold I already had and I was very sick. I spent the rest of the day in bed.

Friday I was still in a ton of pain but I forced myself to go to work. It was a good thing I did because my aid ended up having to go home - I guess she caught the stomach flu too.

Saturday I had so many emotions flooding through me that I decided to sit down at my piano keyboard. I had this tune playing over and over in my head that I was manipulating and creating in my mind. I decided to put it together in reality and it was so good.

Sunday I continued to manipulate this tune on the piano and I ended up composing an 8 1/2 minute long song. I keep playing it over and over again and it keeps me going. It is so filled with all of my emotions from this week and past emotions that I've subconsciously held onto. I recorded it onto my cell phone so I can play it for my T. I used to do that for her in the past because she can tell where I'm at from what I create on the piano. My T loves my songs. She wishes she had a piano in her office so I could play live for her.

It's been over two weeks since I've met with my T. I hope she comes back soon...I've really struggled these past two weeks and I desperately need someone to talk to who can help me deal with all of this new stuff. I feel like all of the abuse is becoming raw again with my sister starting to remember things.

I feel like I'm rambling and not really saying anything important... Maybe I should just go to bed and hope for a good day tomorrow.


*Bee

It Starts With a "D"...

***May be triggering. Please read with caution.***

Depression. It affects about 18 million American's every year.

For most of my life I have had severe depression but I learned to keep it hidden because I didn't want anyone to know.

One night during my junior year in high school, I almost bled to death on my bathroom floor. My best friend was the only other person that knew I was suicidal and the next day she made me go to one of the school counselor's and talk to them. It was the first time I cried in front of someone in a long, long time.

The counselor ended up calling my parents and when I got home that day from school, the look in their eyes made me feel ashamed. How could I do this to them? To my sisters? To my family? My response: Silence.

My mom never let me out of her sight for months. She would check up on my frequently during the night. She would never cease to remind me that she was "just down the hallway." It made me hate my life even more. She didn't listen to me when I was younger so why the h*ll would she listen to me now?

My mom took me to several therapists, church bishops and other leaders, and psychiatrists. I refused to speak. Sitting in silence was something I was a pro at.

I look back at that time in my life and I see how lost I was, how terrified I was, how alone I was.

Right now I'm working through some very real, very heavy stuff with my T. And it is eating me alive this week. I hate to admit it but I'm depressed. As much as I try to hide it, I know it's here. My heart aches, my body is tired, my mind is scared. I just want to be alone but at the same time I am so scared of being alone.

I don't want to go back to how I felt in high school and my entire childhood. I don't want to be afraid of myself. I don't want to have to hide.

My T picked the absolute wrong time to go on vacation...

I better go and try to figure out how I'm going to be the happy, friendly, confident teacher for my students tomorrow. Right now that's what is keeping me afloat.


*Bee

April Fools Day

As I work with my T more and more, I have learned to become more aware of myself and where I am at in the healing process.

Growing up, April Fools Day was one of my favorite holidays. I loved "cooking" up the perfect prank for my parents, my sisters, and my friends. I would spend weeks preparing for the perfect trick that would get everybody.

During the summer, right before I turned 15 years old, I had the opportunity to go to a week long camp program for my church. Hundreds of teenagers from age 14 to 18 come from all over the world to attend this camp program. We were placed in groups of about 10 girls and 10 boys. On the first day, we met the individuals in our group and played several "get-to-know-you" games. During one of the games, we were paired up with a random person in our group. I was paired up with another girl named Jessica.

As a 14 year old girl, I was extremely quiet and shy. I didn't share my feelings, or really anything for that matter, with anyone. I was not outgoing or spunky or happy. I was just existing.

Jessica, however, was the complete opposite of me. Just by looking at her, I could tell she was full of energy, extremely friendly, bubbly and outgoing. She probably had hundreds of friends and one of the most popular girls at her school. She was a person who I would have never had the opportunity to meet except for at this camp program.

I felt very awkward, at first, being paired with Jessica. She was so nice and caring towards me that it really freaked me out. I somehow managed to get through the questions our camp leaders had us ask each other and then continued the rest of the day trying to hide from her.

But Jessica wouldn't have that.

Every opportunity that presented itself, and even in moments that didn't, she would acknowledge me and talk to me. She was so persistent that I constantly assumed that she had some sort of agenda to hurt me. I couldn't trust anyone, after all.

On the third day of this camp week, the group split up and went to separate locations - the girls with the girls, the boys with the boys. Our camp leader had us sit in a semi-circle, and then she told us that we each would share something we went through that was really hard for us.

Our leader paired us up again, and again Jessica was my partner.

Jessica volunteered to go first, of course. I assumed she would share something unimportant, like her boyfriend had just dumped her or that her pet gerbil died when she was 7. But what I didn't expect was what she did share.

She started out by saying that 3 months prior she went to the doctor for a regular check up, and her doctor had found something abnormal. For a month, she was referred to doctor after doctor after doctor until finally they found what was wrong. She was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer and she only had a few months left to live.

I was stunned. Shocked. Speechless.

I couldn't speak. I just stared at my lap.

Jessica scooted her chair right up next to mine and put her arm around me. She whispered in my ear and said, "I know what yours is."

My eyes filled up with tears but I held them in. I felt myself nod in response. She was the only person who had ever acknowledged my searing pain from the abuse I had gone through and was currently going through.

We were inseparable the rest of the week. Jessica spent every waking moment making me laugh. I hadn't laughed in such a long time! As we got to know each other better, we realized how alike we were. We lived about 15 minutes away from each other and even went to the same school in 7th grade. She also had an identical twin sister.

The end of the week came much too quickly....

As it turned out, we ended up going to the same high school, both of us starting our sophomore year. Jessica's strength and kindness never ceased to amazed me.

Her birthday was April Fools Day and, try as she might, could never convince anybody that it was her birthday! She was the kind of person who would walk up to a total stranger and strike up a conversation. Sometimes she would even talk to them like she remembered them from her past, "Hey! Oh my gosh I haven't seen you  since second grade! Do you remember me? I was the girl who gave you the purple flower on the first day of school." Of course the person would be completely clueless, but not wanting to be rude would reply, "Oh yeah, I kind of remember that."

A quirk that I loved about her was that she would only write with Crayola markers. Every assignment and test would be in pink Crayola marker. She also had to crumple up everything before she could turn it in or give it to someone. It got so bad that the school had to make her a 504 plan to accommodate these things. Every note she ever wrote to me is in pink Crayola marker and you can she the crumpled marks on it.

At each doctor's appointment her doctor would tell her that she only had a little time left. When she would see me later, she would say "I'm going to live past that date." At first I didn't think she could do it although I wished with all my heart that she would. Every three months she would still be alive and well, kicking her cancer in the butt.

When she passed the year mark of being diagnosed, she set the record for the longest survivor of her type of cancer.

We continued to be best friends throughout high school, each passing year putting the record for longer and longer. Her doctor's couldn't believe the miracle that was happening.

Both of us went off to separate colleges but still kept in contact every day. Jessica kept her word each time she said "I'm going to live past that date."

During the summer after our freshman year in college, Jessica passed away - the longest survivor of her type of cancer.

I think about her every April Fools Day because it was her birthday and her favorite holiday. I find myself having a difficult time on April Fools Day because I don't have her there giving me the greatest ideas to trick people and because I think I lost some of my "spark" when she passed away.

Jessica, I hope you're having just as much fun, or more, in Heaven right now. Rest in peace, friend.


*Bee

Things I Don't Tell My T

I don't tell my T that I just need to hold her hand.

I don't tell my T that I crave someone who is safe.

I don't tell my T that I remember every detail from my nightmares.

I don't tell my T that I struggle every day.

I don't tell my T that my eating disorder is still a problem.

I don't tell my T that I feel like I'm always lying because I'm so different.

I don't tell my T that my anxiety levels are so high that I can't breathe.

I don't tell my T that I feel so lost.

I don't tell my T that I want to scream because I feel so desperate.

I don't tell my T that I want to hide from everything.

I don't tell my T that I just want somebody next to me who understands.

I don't tell my T that I wish things could change.

I don't tell my T that I don't feel alive.

I don't tell my T that I can't help but push people away.

I don't tell my T that I'm desperate to forget and get rid of all the bad things.

I don't tell my T that I still have a million secrets she doesn't know about.


*Bee