Category Archives: dissociative identity disorder

Scared numb

Posted on by

4

I want to go to church. Heck, I drove all the way here, and I’m in the parking lot. But for the entire drive here my head started doing that involuntary shake thing that usually means that at least one peep is trying to say No!

I love this church, but I feel my peeps getting all jacked up with the crowds of people. The peeps don’t like crowds, even though I try to explain that this is a good crowd. So, my system is freaking out, but I really want to go inside the damn church!

Out of compromise, I’m waiting until the very last minute to run inside as to minimize conversation before the service. I hate doing that because I look like a snob, and I do like meeting people, but we have to meet somewhere in the middle. Here goes, it’s time to go inside …

Fogged down

Posted on by

5

The fogginess has kicked me.

I am struggling to remain grounded. The dissociation is persistent and exhausting. All I had to do in order to make dinner was reheat some meat in order to make a pot roast sandwich with leftovers. Even that was too daunting. I would up eating cheese and crackers and an apple for dinner. I must have had the nightmare about the director attacking me again because I woke up yet again with that same leg in pain.

This fog is relentless. I’m trying not to let my brain go to the dark place. It’s like I’m crawling in sand to get home. The effort is that excruciating. All my energy goes to trying to keep it together so that I can work. The rest of the time I am trying to put myself back together again so that I can go back to work with some functionality.

And to think that someone told me today that I “dabble in mental illness.” Hah. They have no idea.

 

Smart Heavy

Posted on by

7

I got to Doc’s in utter despair this morning. Doc suggested that I study what I was feeling as if I was beside it, this way I would be activating the thinking side of my brain instead of the limbic system side. He did warn me that when I do this I may start to get memories of feelings or actual memories. I started to do what he suggested, and without realizing what I was doing I broke into a big smile. At this point, I’ll let Smart Heavy take over …

“Yeah, like I was going to let Beatriz do what Doc wanted. Poor girl isn’t ready yet for that. Doc means well, but he doesn’t know her as well as I do. Doc asked me what my “purpose” is. I told him I’m a heavy, a Smarty Heavy. Not a bouncer. I’m better than a bouncer because I use my words, not my fists, unless I’m forced to do so. However, it’s always as a last resort. 

I told my mother she was an awful parent, didn’t deserve children. She always heard my truth. Doc asked me how that came to be, and I told him it’s because I know right from wrong. I always call things as I see them. For better or for worse, I have no filter. Doc also asked me when I was born. That would be when my mother brought the stupid man home, the idiot that would become my stepfather.

Doc wants to know my name. Yeah, right! Like I would hand that over like a business card! I just gave him my smile that let him know that he was pushing his luck. He was able to accept not knowing my name right away.

It was time for me to speak up though. The little peeps were having a heart attack when Doc suggested his latest exercise. He’s not a bad guy, but the little peeps get scared easily. Someone has to look out for them.”