Tag Archives: dissociation

I kept eating burgers

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A cheeseburger.

I went to a party today, and had too many hamburgers. They were nothing like the picture above. They were the smallish homemade burgers that remind me of burgers at Stuckey’s. I’ve no idea what burgers are like these days at Stuckey’s, but back in the day (the 1980s), burgers at Stuckey’s were small and oddly tasty to me when I was a child.

As I bit into the first burger at today’s party I was instantly transported to that very abbreviated time in my family when things were okay. I wouldn’t say they were great, but they were okay and certainly tolerable. Perhaps that’s why it’s one of the few childhood memories I recall so well.

The discovery of Stuckey’s occurred on a car trip from the Southwestern United States all the way to the Northeast. We were on a month long car trip to visit my stepfather’s family. Stuckey’s burgers were exciting for me and my sisters because we had never known a life of eating out. A cooler full of Sunkist soda and Big Red was a boon for us as well. We felt rich, and carefree with all these new conveniences and treats in our lives.

Then there were hotel rooms! Who knew such a thing existed? All of us piled into one hotel room with a rollaway bed for me. It was pure fun, even with my sisters stepping over me in the rollaway to get to the bathroom. It was like we finally stepped in the realm of Middle Class America.

Stuckey’s burgers were cheap, and my parents would buy them by the bagful for us. To go from a life of true hunger to having a bagful of burgers on demand was mind blowing at times. It’s amazing that a bagful of burgers and a cooler of soda can make a child feel like they’ve arrived in life. We learned all the Beach Boys songs and listened to them ad naseum, but it was an ideal soundtrack for that summer trip. It’s wasn’t a beach summer by any means, and we came nowhere near California. But the cheery cheesy songs were fitting to the dreamy and jubilant experience.

For the first time in our lives we had some consistency. If we stopped at Stuckey’s we knew we were getting burgers. The cooler always had soda. In the hotel room I always slept on the rollaway bed, and Beach Boys tapes were all we listened to in the car. We had never had any consistency of any kind, and innocuous things such as this made me and my sisters feel an odd sense of safety and stability that we never knew before that trip.

The dark period in our family started up again later after that summer, but during that trip all was mostly well. And just as I never wanted that period to end, I didn’t want the memory to end today. I wanted to hold on to it, so I kept eating burgers.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sabrina discovers purple nail polish

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Sabrina can be my toughest challenge some days. Since discovering Sabrina I’ve assessed that she is very likely the one who facilitated previous situations that were not safe. I really think she’s one with the sex addiction. When I first discovered her I wanted nothing to do with her. Doc convinced me that I needed find some ground with Sabrina, and not be at odds with her, especially since she may likely hold terrible memories of a sexual nature. He pointed out that my silent treatment of Sabrina was not serving me well as we were working against each other.

I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time, and I really started to think about the healthy things that Sabrina likes because she isn’t just about a lot of sex and a lot of drinking. She likes working out, nice clothes, and she enjoys looking good, whether it’s putting on makeup or fixing our hair. So, I booked a manicure for us, but mainly for Sabrina’s enjoyment. She loved it. Surprisingly, purple nail polish was chosen!

purple

Shortly after that I bought us some nice make-up, and we’ve been having fun with that. But I can sense that Sabrina likes that I’m thinking of her. Ultimately, I’m trying to guide her to healthier desires like hair and make-up, and working out instead of casual sex and drinking.

I know this all sounds bizarre, but I’m just making up what to do as I go along. There is no map. You just have to feel your way through DID. I know of no other way to do it.

What the what?!

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Today, as usual, I woke up with that stuck to the bed familiar feeling that I often have in the morning upon waking up. The difference is that I’m better able these days to shake it off in shorter order than I was in the not so distant past. Though I did have the sense that I had a rough night of dissociative sleeping, but I had no clues beyond my foggy feeling.

Fast forward to the kitchen, last stop before I head out the door, and I’m trying to find the damn grilled chicken that I’m taking for lunch. I can’t find it, and I know I bought it, and I know where I put it in the refrigerator. I proceeded to nearly empty the entire refrigerator looking for this chicken. Finally, I see the chicken on the counter, right near my lunch bag, and I have no idea as to how it got there. I start furiously searching my memory for the moment I put it on the counter, and there is nothing there. I shake and shake and shake my brain for the memory of taking out the chicken to no avail. Finally, I just leave for my appointment with Doc, and I’m late for it by 5-7 minutes.

As I sit down, Doc mentions to me that I am consistently 5-7 minutes late for my appointments, and he asks me why. I tell him that the reasons are different each time. This time I tell him about the chicken incident, to which he says to me, “Did you ask inside?” I became slightly annoyed, and I said to him that I did not ask inside as I was running late for an appointment. He then pointed out that asking inside about the chicken might have given me some answers as to who took out the chicken, why they felt compelled to “help out” or whether someone was trying to delay getting to the appointment, etc.

Then I became further annoyed because he asked me why I did not ask inside, why did I just keep going through my memory bank when I know I have DID. I then said that sometimes in moments like that I question the DID, and look for another answer.

He seemed to soften when I said that, and said that he understood that tendency. But, he went on to say that intrinsic memory will only become extrinsic memory when I start questioning why certain things are happening. For example, a good time to look for the extrinsic memory would have been upon waking up with the stuck to the bed feeling. He said that if I make myself open to the extrinsic memory when odd or disturbing things happen eventually the extrinsic memory will come, but only if I make myself available to it.

I want that, and I don’t want that. I want to move on from this limbo of trauma and dissociation, but I am afraid to fully know what got me here.  I will try to be more open to answers. We shall see, but make no mistake, I’m afraid to know what lies beneath.

Photo credit: Wikipedia