Tag Archives: trauma

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all

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I want to know more about what’s hidden in the recesses of my mind. But, I am beginning to question the wisdom of such an endeavor.

It may seem trivial, but before today I would have sworn that I’ve watched every single episode of Modern Family. Well, I’ve been watching a marathon on the USA network for the past couple of evenings, and roughly 50% of the episodes thus far are alien to me. I know that I physically watch this show every week, but, apparently, I do not always watch the show. I guess other peeps inside enjoy Modern Family. This discovery gives more credence to my theory and belief that I lose time at home.

Last night was a horrid marathon of upsetting nightmares, one of which consisted of a bizarre car accident. Don’t know if there is any meaning there.

I actually felt myself getting physically panicked all day today, and even this evening.

God, I know this post is dreadfully boring. I’m even boring myself, but I feel compelled to get it all out in the hopes that all of this writing will eventually lead to some understanding of myself.

Letty keeps talking to me about Dad. At least she’s not asking where he has gone, “I had a Dad, but he not coming back. He sick, very sick. He not coming back. I wish I could call him, but Beatriz says we can’t cause he’s sick.”

After the last session with Doc where Letty talked about food and being hungry, I had another revelation. Over the years, people have mentioned funny things to me that have happened when I’m eating something I really like. Just a couple of weeks ago, my colleague and I went to our favorite diner for dinner. They had meatloaf panini as a special on the menu, and I ordered it. All I remember is getting my food, and telling the owner’s fiance who came over to our table that it was fabulous. As we were leaving the diner, my colleague told me that when I picked up my panini I brought my sandwich up to my face with eager crossed eyes, and I was making a gleeful humming sound. Thank god he was laughing about it, but I had no recollection of such a thing happening. I now realize that Letty was likely enjoying the sandwich with me.

In that last session this week with Doc I keep replaying in my mind something Letty said, “It don’t matter if the food didn’t taste good. I could make it taste good in my brain. It don’t matter.”

Guess it makes her happy when food is truly good.

I am fighting the urge to quit, to quit trying to remember. I am fighting the urge to just give up altogether. I am fighting ,and I’m having a hard time remembering why.

Letty, it will be okay.

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Letty did not want to leave my friend’s house today. It broke her heart to leave as we had been there all weekend. She cried in the car for much of the way home. It was a long two and a half hours home. It’s still disconcerting to have the awareness that there is a part of me that was upset with leaving, and another part that was very calm about it.

Honestly, it’s incredibly difficult to write about the inner details of my DID. This is why I write less than I used to a year ago, or at least that’s my theory.

I know I should write more, think more about why Letty gets upset when she anticipates being alone. But my brain just shuts down when I contemplate this, and when I start to write my brain goes blank as well.

Doc says there’s answers in how and why selves react to certain things.

But I suppose I’m not ready to do this yet because when I start to look at what Letty is feeling I get floaty.

All I can do is tell Letty that it will be okay. But I don’t know that it will be okay. It’s what I hope for us, more like a prayer, a wish, a hope set out into the universe every time it is uttered.

Sick and freaked

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For the past two days I’ve been sick. I don’t think there’s an organic reason. I think it’s directly related to anxiety. This was the weekend five years ago that I struggled to find a reason to continue living. It was the weekend after the nonconsensual experience with a person I knew.

Then today a friend of mine and I went to an event I actually attended five years ago this very same weekend. I was aware of this when I agreed to go with my friend this weekend. I thought it would be a way to make a new and better memory. But then it was very hot outside, and heat is a trigger for me. I think between the heat, and the event itself my body just freaked, and I became ill.

And, getting sick is a whole other trigger for me. I had to tell all the peeps the following:

“We are not dying. We are just sick. Yes, it is unpleasant, but we are very likely not going to die from this. This is no one’s fault. No one is in trouble. No one is bad because we got sick. Let me repeat … No one is in trouble.”

It’s a balancing when I get sick because I have to take care of myself, and then I have to tend to others as well. Much like being a parent that gets sick when the rest of the family is also ill.

Though I think we’re finally coming around the bend from the sickness.