Tag Archives: triggers

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.

The compartmentalized life

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With dissociation, life is so often only partially lived, 1/10, 1/3, 1/2, 3/4, depending on how we are coping with our condition. I might even be at the 2/3 point right now. It’s eye opening to realize that some of my choices have not been fully my own. I realize that all of these parts are part of me, but I consider true choices as ones that I make as Beatriz and no one else.

DID has kept me from a full life. Dissociation does that. It compartmentalizes your life in such an organized fashion that you don’t experience all of it. You are shut out, but you don’t even know it.

Yesterday as I was driving I had another revelation. Doc has said that they will come if I am open to them. It sounds like that is indeed coming true because yesterday was the first day I’ve been truly and fully open to memories and answers.

I was driving to get gas, and I felt Letty start to cry. It’s such a strange sensation to know that I, Beatriz, am okay and calm, yet another part of me, Letty, is upset.

“Letty, honey, what is it?”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry. It’s my fault … It’s my fault that we ran out from the place in New York with Michael.”

And in that instant I knew what she was talking about. I knew she meant the night almost three years ago I ran out of a club on the Lower East Side with Michael, the night I was so dissociative that I didn’t know what was going on, just that I was in a fog and in a state of fear that made no sense.

As I grasp this realization I also have a flash of Sabrina and Belle before me. I learn that Sabrina was the one who desperately wanted a drink. Belle wanted to die during that entire situation. No wonder I was such a mess at the time as I was a musical chair of selves revolving in and out at that club. It is no wonder I felt like passing out at times that night.

I’m taking all of this in when I realize that Letty is still crying, and still trying to talk to me.

“I am sorry, sorry, sorry … I am the one who ran out from there. I scared Michael …”

“Honey, we all scared Michael, not just you. It was a scary thing that happened for everyone. It’s no one’s fault. I didn’t know about you guys so that I could help you. If I had known I would have helped everyone. I am the one who is sorry, sweetie. We didn’t know what we didn’t know. We have to forgive ourselves sweetheart because no one meant any harm that night, not you, not Belle, not Sabrina, not me, and not Michael. Everyone was just doing their own job. Your job is to keep a look out, and make sure everyone is safe. You were trying to do that. Sabrina’s job is to escape from what is happening using things like drinking. Belle’s job is to hold all of our bad yucky feelings, and she was doing that very thing. All of you did your job. How can you be in trouble for that? Now that I know about you guys we are working together so that things like that don’t happen again.”

“Will Michael be mad when finds out?”

“I really don’t think so, honey. Remember how Michael told you the other night that real friends understand? I think this is one of those situations where a real friend will understand what happened. He’s a real friend. There may have been times when he was scared, but, even in those times, he was always our friend.”

Over and over again in my mind I have regretted that night, and blamed myself for the way things played out afterwards. With this revelation I learned that our night on the Lower East Side could only end the way it did. Not knowing about the system meant that everyone continued to operate and do their own thing. There is no other way that night could have ended given the knowledge I did not possess.

I may not have ever learned about my DID if I did not go through all that pain and confusion.

It had to happen they way it happened.

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.