Miss sickie and other updates

Hello everyone. I know I’ve been a bit out of it lately, with writing and sharing and all that. These past couple weeks have been hard to say the least, but I’m hanging in there.

I’m miss sickie at the moment. Sore throat… congestion… I think all the emotional upheaval has finally worn me down physically. I wish I could take time off work but I can’t. So fingers crossed that Little Guy doesn’t get it.

I have gone ten full days without smoking. Each and every day is so hard. But I’ve been doing it and I continue to keep doing it. I just truly can’t wait for the day where I don’t have overwhelming cravings for them.

I had my therapy appointment with Bean yesterday. All that I said about therapy being a waste of time and going nowhere and not helping? Yeah, I take that all back.

Yesterday we talked how “up” my defenses are. Especially when we get even the slightest bit close to talking about anything serious, trauma related, etc. That my system either shuts me down or brings forward another part to prevent “us” from having to face anything uncomfortable, whether they be feelings, memories, etc. It makes therapy hard to say the least.

One day at a time and one step at a time. I hope to get to the point where my defenses aren’t so high as we can actually start doing the “work” that is needed to heal. Bean tells me that I have lived in this torment for so long, that I deserve to be free from it. That I shouldn’t have to live in it any more.

My apologies for not reading/commenting on others blogs lately. I’ve just been feeling too overwhelmed to do much of anything.

I also have thoughts about my DID, my parts, and my dissociation that I want to share, but it will have to wait for another post. I’m already feeling exhausted just having written what I have. Miss sickie gets tired out easily!

Sending smiles and hugs to all of out there in cyberland. xx

Holding my pieces together

I just got out of therapy a little bit ago. I feel as though I am hanging on by a very thin thread. I told her about the weekend, about the dissociation, about the depersonalization, the disconnection. About the crying. I spent most of the session moving in and out of these states that I can’t even identify. Some more familiar than others. Angry and glaring, terrified and hiding, unable to speak, feeling as though I was wading through mud, feeling as though I were lost in a thick fog, disorientation to where I kept having to remind myself where I was and what Bean had just asked me. Or I wouldn’t be able to remember and would just sit there arguing in my head about whether we should say something or not. [Most times the part who didn’t want us to speak won out.]

Bean thinks that stuff is pushing up. Memories. She thinks that the feeling states for the memories are starting to surface, and that they don’t have a “narrative” yet but that they will come. She said not to be afraid of the dissociation (because to be completely honest, I was feeling very afraid of all the dissociation I’ve been experiencing over the last several days). She said the dissociation is actually is there “to protect.”

I said, “Protect who?”

She said, “Protect you.”

She said the role she sees dissociation playing at the moment is to titrate* the memories so they don’t come at me all at once and overwhelm me. She says, however, that things are loosening up and shifting, and she sees this as a really good thing. She reminded me again not to be afraid of what’s happening: of either the memories or the dissociation. Although I have to say, both are a bit difficult at the moment. The memories, because I’m afraid of what’s there and what I don’t know, and the dissociation, because it’s making me feel crazy and all over the place and not tied to this earth.

I told her that over the course of the weekend, when the dissociation would get really bad, I would think to myself,

“I’m not well. I’m not well.”

She told me that I am, in fact, quite well, and doing quite well, I’m just in the midst of processing some big stuff. I suppose I’m a little bit relieved to hear that, but on the other hand I’m not sure if that makes it any easier. All I know is that it feels like I’m coming undone, and it’s all I can do to simply hold the pieces of me together.

She said that the answers (and memories) will come when they are ready. I do also wonder just how long I will have to wait. And if there’s even anything there at all…

Ugh why is healing so hard?!

*I had to look up this word, and here is the definition that seemed most fitting:

Titrate: Continuously measure and adjust the balance of (a physiological function or drug dosage).

A skimming session

My therapy session with Bean yesterday had me talking away like a chatterbox. Talking about everything from A to Z. My drinking from age 12-16. My giving up alcohol at age 17. My various living arrangements throughout college. My social phobia beginning at age nineteen. My extreme fear of being attacked and murdered beginning at age twenty when I lived on my own for the first time. My very difficult and traumatic trip to India. My friend being attacked and almost killed.

**pause**

I saw this friend the other night. The one I mentioned in an earlier blog who was grabbed by a man and nearly strangled to death (if you want to read about it, click here). She told me the whole story of what had happened. I don’t feel comfortable recounting all the details on here, out of respect for her privacy, but let me just say it was horrific. I’m grateful that she is okay. I’m grateful that she’s alive. I’m grateful that I was able to hug and comfort her and tell her how amazing she is.

**un-pause**

That was really the only thing I went into detail about in my session. Everything else I just seemed to skim over, like a rock skipping on a pond. Bouncing across the top without being swallowed up by the water. Although eventually the stone does get swallowed up by the water no matter how long it skips for. Sinking, for the stone, is inevitable.

I talked about my mom. About her reaction to my friend committing suicide. Let’s just say it lacked the empathy I was hoping for. (Surprised?) I talked about the church I grew up in, and the car accident my family was in when my mom was pregnant with me. That needs an entire blog post unto itself. For another day perhaps. It may seem strange, but the church and my mom’s spirituality seem to be inexorably linked to the car accident. Well, it’s quite simple actually. She believes that this “path” that she had just discovered before the car accident actually saved her life in the accident. That she was “meant to” live in order to pursue this spiritual path. And then that spiritual path and her “spirituality” became her life from that point on, and exists even to this day. It’s more important than everything. Including her family.

Conclusive thoughts

I actually think this session of “skimming” was a really positive thing. So many of my sessions are spent trying to keep me grounded, or bringing me back into the room after being triggered, and really not much gets accomplished. Yesterday we covered a lot of ground, and I feel really happy about that.

Pre-therapy jitters

I’m horribly nervous and anxious about my session with Bean today. I mean, I’m usually anxious and/or nervous to some extent, but it’s especially bad today since I know we’re going to be trying the hypnosis. ::shivers nervously:: I just wish my session was starting already! Forty-five more minutes! I don’t know if I can make it!

Perhaps there’s nothing there to find out. Perhaps the hypnosis won’t work. Perhaps I can’t be hypnotized. Actually, I don’t want it to be the beginning of session already; I want it to be the end of session already! Ugh.

Will let you all know how it goes one way or another.

Xx Brandic

Jaw. Ow. (Therapy update)

I’m not going to get into too many details of today’s therapy session. Mostly because I don’t remember them (the whole thing feels like a blur) and partly because it was extremely emotionally (and physically) draining and I’d rather leave the intensity of it in the therapy room. I will share a few details though.

In the waiting room I overheard a session of another client from another office. This was a big trigger for me. When I got inside the therapy room, I hid myself behind my arms and told Bean I didn’t want her seeing me. She asked me why not and I couldn’t tell her, since I didn’t know.

After what seemed like eternity, she was able to pull me out of that state by asking me to make eye contact with her. It was very difficult and quite painful actually, but once I made the eye contact I was able to snap back into functioning mode. All need to hide vanished. I can’t say what happened next. I moved in and out of various dissociative states. I remember being triggered by a vacuum cleaner in an adjacent room. At some point I went into a full-on terrorized state where I was clutching my head and trying to burrow into the cushions. Anytime Bean tried asking me anything I could only shout, “no! no! no!” At some point she mentioned something about it being a body memory that was occurring, but mostly she talked to me in a soothing voice telling me I am safe, and that she’s not going to hurt me.

I suddenly came out of it when my legs started to suddenly clench up and cramp. I was sucked back into my body. I had to sit upright and stretch my legs out to make the cramping stop. I began laughing, perhaps because the whole situation seemed absurd to me. All fear and terror was suddenly gone.

However for the rest of the session I was either in a zoned out foggy state or extremely anxious. The next thing I knew the session was over and I told Bean what a waste of a session that had been. She said, “Oh no, not at all. You may not have said a lot verbally, but your body spoke volumes. It showed me how much fear it is holding. And the amount of fear is huge. We will have to work with that fear a little at a time, so that we don’t overwhelm you. Although I do realize you are really wanting to get to the source of the fear, we must take it in steps so as not to overwhelm your system. But you are doing really, really well, and this was definitely not a waste of a session. Not even close.”

And that was that.

The whole drive home I had to massage my jaw because it was hurting so bad. I must’ve been clenching it really tight throughout the entire session. I wonder if it’s possible to pull a muscle in your jaw, because that’s what it feels like! Ouch!!

My last therapy session

I went into my last therapy session horribly worried and nervous that I wasn’t going to be able to feel connected to her. For the first thirty minutes or so, I sat there, unable to speak, trapped inside myself. I was able to give short answers like yes or no, but other than that couldn’t get a word out.

Bean asked me what I was feeling and I shrugged my shoulders. She said, “Is that because you don’t know? Or because you can’t say.” I told her it was because I didn’t know. She then asked me if what I was feeling was numb, shut down, or blank. She said that it may not seem like it, but there’s a subtle difference between these. I told her blank. She asked if it would be alright if we move out of that blank space for a moment, and then we will go right back into it. I began to feel panicky. I asked her what was going to happen, what was I going to feel when we moved out of the blank. She said that whatever it is is okay, since we will be able to move right back into the blank. That it will only be for a few seconds. I said okay.

She told me to start imagining words in my head, and start spelling them out. I did that. I can’t remember the words I chose but there were several. As I was spelling them out in my mind, the feelings that I hadn’t had access to came rushing in, like a dam being opened up in my mind. Pure panic, anxiety, and overwhelm. I told her, “Too much, too much.”

She tried getting me to go back into that blank space but it didn’t work. I was left to sit amidst the storm of overwhelming feelings. It was excruciating. I scrunched up my face, trying to shut it all out, but I couldn’t. She asked me if I was feeling a lot of pressure. I nodded, my eyes closed. She asked if there was pressure in my chest. I nodded. She asked if there was pressure in my head. I nodded.

I put my hands to my head, wanting to disappear. I held my forehead and felt myself slowly slip, slipping away.

From the observer position, I watch myself begin to speak cheerfully to Bean. Asking her if she’d seen this one Robin Williams movie. Her and cheerful me chatted for a bit, until she asked me a question (I can’t remember what) that brought me right back up front, with all the pressure and panic and overwhelm. Unable to speak. Hands immediately go to my head.

“Is your head hurting you right now?,” Bean asked. I shake my head. “Just a lot of pressure?” she asked. I nodded, slowly feeling myself fading away again. The okay, cheerful part of myself starts in, chatting away as I observe from a safe, far away place.

The rest of the session proceeds like this. Any time Bean asks me a difficult question my “okay” part isn’t able to immediately answer, I’m sucked back into the body with all the overwhelming feelings and pressure. Then I go away again, and watch myself carry on a light-hearted conversation. The “okay” part tells Bean all about these old school transcripts and written evaluations that my mom had given me from seventh and eighth grade. She also tells Bean the story of my vice principle calling my mom and telling her I’d been raped at a party (see prior post). Bean was (appropriately) shocked and appalled.

Then, just like that, our session was over.

One good thing that came out of this session was the realization that I have these two main parts of myself that operate on a daily basis. The part that I think of as “me” – the one in touch with all my feelings, emotions, inner workings, and then the “okay part” who comes on when I get too overwhelmed, or when I need to act “okay” (around my family, for example).

Another thing I just remembered about session was that Bean told cheerful me to try to watch and become aware of what happens when I “switch states.” Cheerful me asked what the point of that was. Bean said that the more aware you can become of the process of switching, the more control you can have over the process, and you can actually get to a point where you can move “in and out of states at will.” I have yet to have mastered that. I’ll let you know when I do.

And that, in a nutshell, was my last therapy session. I see Bean tonight, and I’m sure will be updating you all with how it goes.

[Oh and for the record, I felt connected to Bean again after this last session 🙂 ]

Ouch

Is nervousness/anxiety always this painful? It’s clutching my chest as though it’s hanging on for dear life!
Why am I so nervous about seeing Bean? Erg!

(more to come)

Therapy / The Question

I had therapy with Bean today. It had been a week and a half since I had last seen her. I had meant to write a blog about how last session went, but I must’ve gotten sidetracked and never actually got around to it. Because I never wrote it down, I don’t actually remember what transpired during me and Bean’s last session together. I did remember one small detail and that was it – sitting with the swirling feeling in my chest, and connecting it with a specific traumatic incident. She had asked me the first time I ever felt the swirling in my chest, and I had told her that I felt it only after ____ had happened. And that I felt it ever since. But… this post is about my session today, so let me bring us back to that.

Today’s session was at her home office, since I was out of town on Monday – our usual session day – and she’s only in her other office on Mondays. So given what has transpired there, with her husband and all of that, I was especially anxious leading up to today’s session.

She asked me how the medication was going, and if I was having any side effects. I told her it was going well, and amazingly I was experiencing hardly any side effects. She asked me if it still feels like my brain is coming apart, and I told her no. She agreed that this was a good thing.

I asked her what we talked about last session, since I couldn’t remember most of it. I told her the only part I remember is the swirling in my chest. She said that yes, we did talk about the swirling feeling. And that while discussing the swirling, I got to a place where I couldn’t speak. It was then that she enlisted the help of R. She said that R came forward and spent a good amount of time talking with her. She said they talked about my anger, and what happens when I get into that angry state. I said, “what angry state are you referring to?” And she said, “well when [such-and-such] happens and that makes you angry.” (I have no memory of any of this.) She also said that she and R discussed that I may have “other parts” that I am not very aware of yet (??-not sure what that’s about). And she said that R was the one who ended up leaving when the session was over. Bean said that when R walked out, she was very calm. She said it the first time it seems I’ve ever left a session calm. For some reason that struck me as funny (maybe because it made me feel so self-conscious and exposed) and I laughed out loud. [I thought I hid my fear and anxiety better than it seems I actually do :/.]

I talked about the little kid I take care of, and how wonderful they are. I told her about how close we are and how I love to make them laugh. [I am using “them” because I’d prefer not to disclose the child’s gender.] I talked about feeling calm on the drive back with the family from the desert. How I actually felt peaceful and content, and what a strange and odd feeling that was. That my stress and nervousness and anxiety and racing thoughts seemed to have subsided completely, and what was left was just a warm glow. A contentment. I remember thinking, “I wish I could feel this way all the time.” And I told Bean that.

I brought up the fact that I am starting to believe that these “parts” of me are, in fact, made up. That they are, in fact, not real. That it is obvious that I dissociate, it is obvious that I have these different states that I get into, but that what happened when I was diagnosed DID by my ex-therapist was that my mind turned these states into something more than they really are.

Bean: Okay, I hear what you are saying, and I respect that. I am wondering though, after one of our earlier sessions you had written me an angry email and had signed it “R”, and then you had written me another email right afterward apologizing for the previous email and asked for me to please ignore that. How do you explain that?

Brandic: Well, like I said, I do have dissociated states that I get into, and when I wrote that first email was when I was in one of those states. It’s just that I gave that state a name, and that is “R”.

Bean: Okay… I see. I’m also wondering, do you remember when we spoke on the phone that time when you were having a really hard time and you were really dissociated? And you were really scared, and you couldn’t speak?

Brandic: Yes…

Bean: Well, when I asked if you could take a step back, and if R could come forward, you seemed to shift into a state where you were able to talk, and you were actually quite calm. Do you remember that?

Brandic: Yes…

Bean:  So how would you explain that then. Was it that you just shifted states? Because what I observed is that you went from being in a very frightened, scared, and overwhelmed place so much so that you were unable to speak, to shifting to a place where you were able to feel much calmer, and carry on a conversation. I imagine that it was quite a relief for you when you were able to get into that calmer state.

Brandic:  It wasn’t a relief at all.

 

Bean: No?

 

Brandic: No because it didn’t feel like me. I wasn’t connected to that state at all. It didn’t feel like “me” at all. I didn’t feel calm.

Bean: So were you feeling scared of what was happening then?

Brandic: No, I wasn’t scared at all. I wasn’t feeling anything. I don’t feel anything when that happens. When I go into these states. I’m just watching.

Bean: So it sounds like you were simply in a depersonalized state then…?

Brandic: Yes, I was in a depersonalized state, but it wasn’t just a depersonalized state. Because these different states are different. They have their own way of acting and their own way of talking that stays consistent. It’s not like I’m either feeling like “me” or I’m feeling depersonalized. No. I’m either feeling like “me,” or I’m in another one of numerous states that show up and have recognizable ways of being and acting that are consistent. For example, with R, well, R has a unique way of being, a consistent way of acting. That’s not just simply depersonalization.

What happens after this, and what was said, becomes quite blurry. I think she may have asked me what I want her to say if another one of these states presents themselves, if she notices a change in me. What should she say, what language should she use that won’t upset or trigger me. I told her not to use “parts.” That was the word my ex-therapist used and I feel like it implies DID (even though I realize everyone has parts of them). I said I would prefer if she used the term “states.” She agreed to that. Also, she asked if it was alright if she used the term “inner world,” or if there was a better term. I told her that to me, the term “inner world” is for people with DID who have created this whole elaborate world inside their heads. Sometimes with caverns, sometimes with many rooms and many floors, and a room for each alter, and a garden, etc. I told her that I didn’t think I had an “inner world” since I don’t have anything like that. She said, well what can characterize what’s going on inside you? As opposed to what you are presenting on the outside… I said, “Inside. Just say, ‘inside.’ Because there are times, and this is quite often actually, when my insides don’t match my outsides. There’s a discrepancy. For example, I may be feeling anxious and overwhelmed on the inside, but be acting calm and content on the outside. The outside doesn’t convey what’s going on inside.” She said that was very helpful, and that she would start saying “inside” instead of “inner world.”

 

And then, THE QUESTION

Brandic:  So you don’t think I’m DID, do you?

Aaahh! Even though I asked the question in a very directed manner (with the seeming assumption that the answer would be “no”), and asked it in a very nonchalant way, the reality was quite the opposite. I had no idea what she thought or how she would answer. In fact, even asking it made me feel like I was hurling myself off a cliff. Once I threw it out there, I could never take it back. But somehow the words were out of my mouth before I could even stop them.

 

THE ANSWER

Bean: Well, as someone who studies DID and dissociation extensively, I can say that I think that DID is an area that is highly misunderstood, and that there are lots of falsehoods that people believe about it that we need to educate people on…

She went on, but I cannot honestly remember the rest of what she said, except that she never actually answered my question either way. She never said, “No, I don’t think you have DID.” She never said, “Actually, yes I do think you have DID.” She didn’t even partly answer it by saying, “Well, I’m not sure about the DID, but it’s obviously that you do have DDNOS” like so many therapists in my past have done. Keep in mind, these past therapists were not DID experts. She is.

To be honest, I am quite relieved she answered it like this. Because the truth is, I don’t really want to know. I think if she had said no, that she doesn’t think I am DID, I would have been upset. And I think that if she had said yes, she does think I have DID, I would have been upset. The former because it would feel like my experiences were not being given the proper credit they deserve. And the latter, because it would feel like she is just another therapist who is being manipulated by me into thinking something that isn’t even true and isn’t even real. The fact that she played it safe, and basically stated that DID is a misunderstood thing (without answering my question one way or another), made me feel good. It gives me a sense that it’s maybe a possibility for me, but that the diagnosis isn’t the focus of our therapy. I think she is also respecting my need to not know yet. I am still working it out for myself, and that is okay.

And then, before I knew it, the session was over. I started feeling overwhelmed, I didn’t want to speak, the room started becoming shimmery, and Bean was asking me if I was “just watching.” I wasn’t just watching, but I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t bring myself back into my body. I couldn’t bring my attention off the shimmering bookcases, since the shimmering was comforting, and the rest of the room, and my body, and her sitting there across from me, well none of it felt safe because I was going to have to leave it. The world that I left behind for the shimmery world was cold, and harsh. The shimmery world was warm, and had soft edges. I didn’t want to be back in the regular world, so I stayed in this world as long as I could.

Then the doorbell rang, signaling that her next client had arrived. I didn’t actually register it for what it was (thankfully it is much more muted in that back room), but as soon as she said, “Oop, there’s my next client,” I began profusely apologizing, as though I had done something horribly wrong. I lept out of my chair and left her office as quickly as I could. I needed to use the bathroom, and so I looked at her pleadingly, and said (feeling very, very young), “Will you be here when I come out?” She told me yes, that if I hurried, she would be waiting for me when I came out. She ushered her next client into the office (thankfully I didn’t have to see him/her!) and was standing there waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom. She walked me to the front door and warmly sent me off. Even though I left feeling horribly anxious and vulnerable (which is usually how I feel upon leaving therapy), I also felt reassured that she cared enough to have her next client wait so she could say goodbye to me properly.

I don’t mean nothing to her… 🙂

A thousand pounds lighter

I am feeling a thousand pounds lighter after seeing Bean tonight. All that fear and that worry was for nothing. I was afraid she was going to be cold and distant and defensive like she was last session, but she wasn’t at all. What a relief. She was kind, warm, loving, caring, and thoughtful. She seemed genuinely concerned about me, and that made me feel really good. I was so afraid that she had changed, that she had shut down, that she had turned cold as my last therapist had. But that didn’t happen. All my skepticism and worry went out the window. I now feel without a question of a doubt that she cares about me. Now, just getting me to remember this!

I do want to share in detail about our therapy session, but this is neither the time, nor the place. I’m cozy in my bed about to fall asleep, and we don’t need to dredge up those things in my mind, only to ruminate about all of it for hours keeping me awake! And yes, I know my mind would keep me awake for hours thinking about it! (Who’s to say it won’t do that anyway! 😉 ) So, my little tiny handful of readers, I will share more about the session tomorrow when I can adequately ruminate. Until then, zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Fragile

Today I’m feeling particularly fragile. I had a misunderstanding with my partner this morning. Well, more like I misinterpreted something she said. That resulted in me spending an hour under the covers immersed in sadness and depression followed by about two hours of me crying to her in bed. I also burst into tears later on when I thought she wasn’t understanding something I was trying to tell her.

The last hour or so I’ve been overwhelmed by anxiety. I had run some errands with my partner, but it got to the point where I had to hide myself away in the car while she did the remainder of the shopping. I can’t face the world right now. I can’t face the world anymore today. The very little amount I’ve given it has drained me completely. Now I must protect what little fragment of strength I have left and curl inside myself.

Fragile.

I’m feeling especially fragile because I don’t know where things are headed with Bean, and I still feel hurt by her defensiveness last session. I’m feeling especially fragile because I am overwhelmed and confused by parts of me, especially R. I am feeling especially fragile because when I think of Bean, there is no sense of connection. She is no better than a stranger to me at the moment.

I wish I had a hardened shell/suit that I could secure over my body, like a thick suit of body armour. Or like batman’s suit. I need something like that to protect me from the batterings of the world. I don’t feel strong enough to face them today. Not without some extra protection.