Tag Archives: ptsd

There are limits

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There are inherent limits with DID.

With DID you watch the world pass you by. On your strongest days you feel like you can do anything, but the feeling is fleeting, and not sustainable.

It was on one of my strongest days that I applied for a promotion in a different office. There may be a job offer tomorrow that I have to turn down.

And I sit here frozen because typing any further renders me teary.

I know the awesomeness of my productivity and skill set is inside me, but the state of my system in the midst of integration renders this as not a good time for this kind of change.

But it angers me because I see others passing me by into other positions that I know I can excel in if my system was more stable.

I don’t want these limits, but they are there nonetheless. No amount of wishing or determination will extricate them out of my system, at least for today.

I trick myself into believing that I can really rock it as a professional, and that I can burst right through the limits that DID imposes on me because I am one hell of a determined woman.

I just want to excel in my career.

But with DID there are limits.

Today is better than yesterday

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Integration, apparently, is moving along. I’m not completely sure how, nor can I even coherently explain it. Two nights ago I lost a lot of time, and the nightmares were ridiculous, and lengthy. I did not wake up yesterday until 1:53 p.m. When I finally woke up I truly no longer wanted to be on this earth.

I think Doc must have been in a bad place as well because when I called him he asked, “Are you safe?” Well, as safe as one can be with a mind that likes to switch off to different channels. He then asked, “Do you need to go to the hospital?” Once I answered those questions sufficiently enough he was pretty much done. No, I don’t need the damn hospital, just a connection to a human being that can tell me that what’s in my mind is not real. I just needed to talk to someone that was not in my nightmare, someone that can tell me that the world is not as scary as it is in my brain. I just needed to hear another person’s voice so that I know that I am not truly alone in this world, that Armageddon did not happen and I didn’t make the cut. What I needed was someone to convey to me that it’s worth finding that shred of hope, like an umbrella tucked into the backseat of your car that you suddenly remember in the middle of a downpour, and it’s worth cashing it in today because tomorrow will be better. Not all days will be like this, some will, but not all of them.

As usual, no one else was available. Instead, I found hope in a diner meal of roasted chicken, potatoes and chicken gumbo soup. Then, the bookstore was the final refuge for us. We stayed until they closed for the night as I was terrified to be home alone. But the night was better than the previous one, and today is still lonely, but, somehow, more hopeful. Not sure how, but I’m not questioning it. I’ll just take it.

Dear Mr. Last Date

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flowers

Dear Mr. Last Date,

The yellow and peach roses you gave me on our second date last Sunday are still blooming on my dining room table. I find it ironic that they’ve outlived our dating venture. Today the yellow one is in full beautiful bloom. It still makes me smile every time I see it.

Last night was our last date, and that’s okay. It truly is okay.

Thank you for being candid and straightforward about not wanting to pursue a dating relationship with me. It’s okay that the PTSD is a deal-breaker. I actually kind of knew it was coming. Somehow, I’m not sure exactly how, I assessed that once you learned about my PTSD that we would be done with dating. I figured that with the fact that you have young children, and your OCD that it would not be a fit.

You said you want to be friends, and I hope that does come to fruition, though you can understand my skepticism as I’ve been told this a few times before.

You didn’t get to learn that I also have DID, but that’s just as well. I’ve learned to be incremental in disclosing my issues. I’m glad I did it this way as I might have felt worse if I had told you I had DID, and you dropped me at that point. I’m not sure why, but the rejection with DID is the hardest for me to take. It makes no sense to me that it’s that difficult for me as I understand why that’s usually the deal breaker for most people.

Mostly, I just want to say “thank you” for being kind and honest with me. It seems that those two items are in short supply these days.

I’ve not yet eaten my leftovers from that last date. Tomorrow the flowers will be wilted, the leftovers will be eaten, and that will be that.

Beatriz