Strange Star

[Hope4Now]

I don't know if it is because I've been thinking a lot about attachment issues lately, and maybe somehow the talk of double-binds from you @shimmerz , but yesterday I had a blast of some sort of realization about my childhood relationship with my parents that was totally new to me. I'm working to not overanalyze it as I often do, and instead to just notice it.

I have felt/known for many years that I was caught between my parents as a child. That they used me not only to meet their own needs, but also as a mediator of their own relationship as a couple. What blasted through into my consciousness this weekend is the clear memory of how each of them tried to turn me against the other. Thus when I was attempting to attach to my father, my mother would be disgusted and say mean things not only about my father, but about me for wanting a relationship with him. And when I was attempting to attach to my mother, my father would do the same thing--demean and criticize her, and me for wanting a relationship with her.

And they also did that when I was trying to attach to other people, whether it were friends or family members or teachers. Anybody.

So no wonder I have issues with attachment. The issues started in utero and at birth when I was surrendered by my birth mother to an orphanage, and they not only never were healed, they just got worse. For years. And I have parts that never stopped trying to repair the attachment issues--that kept hoping that maybe things would change, even though other parts knew damn well they wouldn't. This went on right up until each of my parents' deaths. I just couldn't let go.

And the shit of it is that I still can't. Seriously. I know my parents are dead. But I have these parts that are still stuck in that disorganized attachment mode...that still even try to communicate with them in whatever place "beyond" they are. Blech.

 

[shimmerz]

the clear memory of how each of them tried to turn me against the other. Thus when I was attempting to attach to my father, my mother would be disgusted and say mean things not only about my father, but about me for wanting a relationship with him. And when I was attempting to attach to my mother, my father would do the same thing--demean and criticize her, and me for wanting a relationship with her.

This is very real to me, this description of yours. For myself, this dynamic played out with my birth parents, right from when I first met them again at age 19.

Having not been exposed to this most of my life, it was incredibly disorienting, difficult to pin down as each of them were blaming myself or the other, there was always a 'do better or I will die!' mentality to them. That I was in charge of their happiness and was doing s piss poor job of it no matter how I tried. Crazy.making.cubed. Seriously.

Yes, that is a double bind alright. And I agree, it doesn't matter which way one turns in such a situation, it feels like impending doom. It makes love a very dangerous thing doesn't it?

 

[Hope4Now]

It makes love a very dangerous thing doesn't it?

Yep.
Huge issue.
I have written in my journal many times that love is dangerous to me. As much as I am desperate for it, I'm terrified of it. Because in my inner world, all the parts scream: what is the price gonna be this time?!

I have been reading/watching Diane Poole Heller and her work on repairing attachment wounds. She is really good. It is making me feel a tiny bit less freaked out by the fact that parts of me seem to have become quite attached to my therapist (but other parts still demand that I run far and fast...). But I still go see him. Even though. Because I am convinced that learning to trust him and feel cared for by him is helping my brain rewire itself.

 

[shimmerz]

Diane Poole Heller

She is awesome, isn't she? I love the way she speaks about having an attachment to our phone. Really puts into perspective what 'attachment' can be. That it doesn't have to be a crazy-love thing.

Great for you for continuing to work with your therapist(s). I know you have struggled with this.

 

[Hope4Now]

So...figured out something today after Yoda session. My system doesn't like the sessions that are all adult-oriented. My kid parts want to come out and talk, but other parts won't let that happen much at all. Today was one of those sort of maintenance sessions where I talked about some realizations I've had, but just from the watcher part. I left feeling a bit adrift, even though the session was perfectly fine. Monday sessions suck anyway. Yoda is always tired in the afternoon, and so am I. I might ask if he has any other morning openings.

I'm having these cascades of memories. Not all bad. Not even mostly bad. Just memories with an undercurrent of badness. Like I started writing in my journal about waking up in the middle of the night with this vivid image of the red leather club chair that was in our den in the house where I lived from age 6.5 on. And then all of a sudden, all these other vivid visual memories started filling in the blank spaces, and I was IN the rooms in my house, and I could see every small detail. Because before now, there were a few details I remembered, but only now do I realize how surrounded by blankness they were. No more. Those memories were there, but I think I've suppressed them because of the pain underneath. They're not like totally dissociated memories which are of a very different quality. They're more like, "Oh, yeah! How could I have forgotten that?!"

I talked with Yoda a bit about one particular bit that came through. I don't know what it's significance is, or if it connects to one of the bizarre internal things that has gone on for years with me. He pointed out that at other times, I have had similar barrages of remembering and they have led to other realizations. He's right of course. The breakthroughs seem always to be preceded by visual memory. Ugh. I thought maybe I was done with the remembering stuff. But I also know I'm not. Because I keep having parts pop up into my consciousness trying to tell me things, but I beat them down again. Like that carnival game where you use a mallet to slam down the furry animals that pop up through the holes. I think I have to put the mallet down and look at them when they pop up. Yoda says my parts are pretty desperate for me to listen. But I keep putting my fingers in my ears like a kid saying "la la la la I can't hear you."

I AM getting better at tolerating the awfulness that comes up in flashbacks though. And with at least acknowledging with compassion all the voices and pictures and feelings that blast through even if I can't deal with them. Yoda says just letting them know I'm aware of them and open just a little to them is good. I am supposed to be doing my cards of my parts, but I am still really freaked out by this so I avoid it. Need.to.do.it.every.day. Ugh. It is miserable. Like taking medicine. I do not like to look at the complex array of my system on a table in front of me. Because it makes me accept it. And I don't want to.

 

[Hope4Now]

Why can I not accept that I am a product of my past? That my system exploded once really early on probably in infancy, and then again shortly after, then again more dramatically when I was nearly 4 and sodomized by my father. There. I wrote those words. Yep. It happened. I know it happened to me. It doesn't feel like it was me, but my intellectual part knows it was. Knows these "parts" aren't real actual people except as they exist in my brain networks. But still it doesn't seem real. That's why I keep revisiting it, I think. Like poking at a loose tooth or something. Ugh. So yes, this happened to me. And the follow-up with my mother just compounded the thing. And I have all these parts clustered around that second "explosion" and I cannot seem to do what I need to do to process/integrate this thing that happened. And if it were just that, maybe I could. But it is so tangled up with so many other things. A LOT happened when I was ages 4-6. A LOT. And I can't seem to focus enough to deal with one thing at a time. It's like pulling a string from a woven top...you think you can just pull it off, but then as you pull, the rest of the top crinkles up around the pull and you realize that if you actually pull out the thread, you'll destroy the top. Ugh. Another horrid and tortured analogy. But it seems like the only way I can communicate with myself these days.

I must get myself to have the courage to witness what my parts so want to tell. I do not understand why, if I am willing and open to this, I can't do it. Yoda says there are other parts that are blocking it. So WTF. I am so stuck. So frustrated. I KNOW about phase-oriented treatment. I KNOW what ought to be happening next...the realization and processing and release of trauma. I WANT this to happen. It is making me crazy that I can't do it.

 

[Hope4Now]

OMG.This morning I suddenly became extremely tired. (That's nothing new really, but I gave into it). I have been really really spacey the past couple of days. I mean really. (got lost three times on my way to therapy yesterday!). So I lay down in my bed and put my weighted blanket over my whole self even my head. And then I switched. Like seriously. I was aware of it but couldn't much stop it. I mean I guess I could have, would have if somebody came in or something, but they didn't. And there I was talking out loud in this little kid voice. I was one of the parts I have identified. A really young one. Even younger than the one that came out with my therapist last week. And it freaked me out that it was happening. So then somehow my mind generated my therapist Yoda and I, as the part, talked to Yoda and told him about me and answered some questions he asked.

Now that I am writing this, I realize that this happened once before several months ago. Same circumstances. Under the weighted blanket.

This was not a flashback. It was kind of a window into my inner world.

These parts don't seem to be able to talk to me. I am invisible to them. But somehow I have created a part that is an introject of my therapist. And this part talks to him. Other parts have too.

I'm not sure which freaks me out more, the takeover by this young part that had me actually talking out loud for a long time, or the fact that I have somehow brought my therapist into my inner world.

And, it seems that some of my parts DO know about each other. Because this young part talked about two older parts and three other young parts.

After it seemed to be done, I got up. I wasn't tired anymore, which is really interesting. It made me wonder if some of my debilitating exhaustion is the attempt to fend off this kind of hijacking by parts. I think perhaps it is. I remembered most of what I/he said and I wrote it on an index card. Then I walked the dog in the marshes. I was walking really well too. Totally bizarre.

I suppose this means that I really have to allow this communion with parts to happen. It is so surreal. So frightening. And yet, when it has happened lately, nothing bad happens in the real outside world. I haven't been hijacked by the self-destructive stuff (except around two weeks ago but it was pretty minor). There's hell to pay in the inside world usually when this happens. But even that seems to have calmed down some.

I think my system is trying to shift somehow. I'm not sure how, but it is definitely in upheaval. I suppose I ought to talk about what is happening to Yoda or Wag, but it is nearly impossible for me to share this stuff with them.

I just listened to an audio lecture on Rumi through the Shift Network. It was amazing!

I'm really tired again now. I am going to give in again and get in bed (this is actually what I am supposed to do, but usually I fight it). I'm kind of curious to see if something like this happens again. I do have to be careful though because my daughter is home sick today. I think it would scare her a lot if she heard me talking out loud in a little kid voice. Maybe I will put on some music or something just in case.

So, there's the news for today. Yikes.

 

[Gadgie]

Quote......."And there I was talking out loud in this littlekid voice."

Yea! I do that, I find myself having conversations with myself, sounds daft I know, but I find it clears my head and makes me feel better.

I suppose it's my way of coping with living alone, which I must admit I getting used to now and at times I kind of like it.

 

[shimmerz]

And it freaked me out that it was happening. So then somehow my mind generated my therapist Yoda and I,

super.cool.

Under the weighted blanket.

Safety?

But somehow I have created a part that is an introject of my therapist. And this part talks to him. Other parts have too.

I wonder if, as we build key attachments to others (good or otherwise) a part is put into place emulating them? I hadn't thought of this before but it seems to make sense (to me anyway). Almost like each part is a representation of attachments that are necessary for our walking through life. This stuff all just (to me), keeps coming back to attachment. I may be entirely off base...

And, it seems that some of my parts DO know about each other.

I wonder if these parts know of each other because they were created to compliment another part (or aid or protect or whatever). If that be the case, I wonder if one integrates whether the others will as well just by nature of their purpose.

I wasn't tired anymore, which is really interesting. It made me wonder if some of my debilitating exhaustion is the attempt to fend off this kind of hijacking by parts.

Yes, I have noticed this too. I have a song that I anchor to. I recognize that when I suddenly get crazy tired, if I play the song in my head it seems that 1/2 hour or so later I realize that the tired just 'left me'. I almost get the feeling that the tired is, in part, the strain of my body shifting to accommodate the new physiology of the incoming part.

And yet, when it has happened lately, nothing bad happens in the real outside world.

Super important is how this seems to me. Your awareness that this is not a dangerous thing would be really key in accommodating the process and resolution.

Great work hon. Walking right along beside you. Much love.

 

[Hope4Now]

I wonder if, as we build key attachments to others (good or otherwise) a part is put into place emulating them?

I think this does happen, actually, although I'm not sure whether it is a "part" or just a memory/imaginative bit. Someone on this board wrote about "internalization" a while ago. I think that's when you have a sense of closeness and even hear the person's voice in your mind. What happened to me was way beyond this. It was pretty surreal actually...and it's not the first time it has happened. It was as if this part of mine went to a therapy session with my therapist. I mean, I know my own brain generated all this, but it was like watching a movie where the characters interacted like real people. Except while part of my mind was watching, my physical body was actually participating physically by talking and moving etc. So strange. So, yeah, maybe I've generated a part. I think when this happens they're called "introjects." My introjects of my parents are very nasty. But I guess I've created one of my therapist...and it is quite nice. Imagine what the world would have been like if we'd internalized these good models as young kids!

I wonder if these parts know of each other because they were created to compliment another part (or aid or protect or whatever). If that be the case, I wonder if one integrates whether the others will as well just by nature of their purpose.

This is an interesting thought. Could be. I know Yoda says that sometimes once one part integrates, often others will just automatically without all the work. I don't know...will have to wait and see when (and if) one of my parts actually integrates!

almost get the feeling that the tired is, in part, the strain of my body shifting to accommodate the new physiology of the incoming part.

Yes, I'm sure this is the case for me.

 

[Hope4Now]

Yesterday I saw W, my psychiatrist. She was extremely nice, and gentle. I think I talked to her yesterday more than I ever have before. It made me laugh, though, when she said, "Would you be interested in reading some literature that might help you understand what is going on with you?" LOL If she only knew. See I wasn't seeing her when I went on that epic binge-research and reading about trauma and dissociation a year or two ago! So I think she has zero clue how much I have read. I would have talked about this, but I was pretty scrambled up, so I just said I would love to read whatever she wants to give me. Now I am VERY curious what she will hand to me.

I'm also interested to hear what Yoda has to say about my little surreal hijacking experience on Tuesday. I did actually text him about it because I started getting nervous that maybe this means I am falling apart again. He called me right back, but I didn't answer. I knew I would not be able to talk out loud about it. But he left a message and said it was "not surprising" and that so long as the mean parts didn't come at me, it was all good. This young part just came forward to talk, and that if it was helpful that Yoda was there, then that was good too. Made me feel much better. I see him tomorrow and I suppose we will talk some more about it. I'm quite curious about why he said it was "not surprising." It surprises the hell out of me when this stuff happens! Yikes.

Today I went and had a massage with a new person who is close to where I'm living now. I have been pretty desperate for a massage as it has been more than 3 months since I've been. It was a huge mistake. While the work he did was good enough for my mucked up muscles, it was a bit rough for me. And the guy's energy was odd. Not creepy odd, just kind of cold. And, someone ought to tell these guys to set their tables so that their crotches don't bang into the clients arms when they're massaging the back. This is not the first time this has happened to me. It is not a sexual thing at all, I know that. I mean when I get massages from women, in certain positions their breasts rub against me. It just has to do with the positioning of the table and the reach of the therapist. Doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman, it freezes me up and brings on icky memories. So yuck. I miss my massage therapist from back home.

I have completed a second photo gallery for my website. Yay me.

 

[Hope4Now]

Oh my. It is official now. I have been diagnosed with DID. Apparently have been for awhile. When I asked today why they never told me, today said that we talked about it. And when I told my husband, his response was, "oh yeah, we knew that already." Well I didn't. I mean I was pretty sure in my own mind that this is the issue, but I didn't know I'd been officially diagnosed. So eithe part of me really didn't want to hear this and blocked it out, or nobody was ever clear with me.

It kind of feels like a relief in a weird sort of way. Like some kind of validation that I'm not making this shit up. I'm always suspicious of diagnoses--have been ever since I started working in the field of learning disabilities. But there is something singularly relieving in having a specialist give a name to what the problem is.

Sort of like when you know you are really sick but the doctor just says to rest and drink fluids...but then the sick just sticks around until finally they do a test and... oh, you have strep. Not that you want strep. Not that it changes how you feel physically. But suddenly there is some validation that you're not just a weakling or a malingerer. That there really is something wrong.