JEKBreatheandBelieve
Diamond Member
Yesterday was an intense therapy session. I got sleep last night, but I was still tired today. Sleepy and sad- those are my main feelings. I went for a run this morning to try to relieve some of the stress from yesterday's session. It's worked once. Today I had flashbacks or something during my run- not a good combination.
I voluntary put both of my sons to rest this afternoon so my husband could get a head start on errands and mowing the lawn. My older son has been popping up out of his room lately. He obsessively asks if we are staying upstairs or in the house. Well, today it was just me and I planned to rest and nap. I was exhausted.
About 1 minute after I had closed my son's door, he was in my room. He had forgotten some toys in the hallway that he wanted in his room. Fine, I can live with that. Before leaving me, he asked "Are you staying upstairs?" and I said, "You already know that answer." (We went over it about 10 times before I left his room.) Then, he came back about 5 minutes later. I got that familiar drowning feeling of being overwhelmed and wham, angry one was out. I yelled. I struggled for control. I asked questions that were very caring, but I kept switching to the angry one and yelling. Not good. Finally I got enough control and while crying, covering my ears, and closing my eyes, I told my son it was safer for him to go to his room. I don't want him to see my lose control.
I felt like such a monster. My husband returned home during all that. He came up and found me sobbing on the bed. Well actually, he found one of my parts. She was curled up hiding her head sobbing and scratching though trying not to. She said she wanted to go away and my husband said to go to the library. He had no idea that she meant go back inside. I didn't want to leave because I felt like I was letting my husband down. He already does so much because I can't. He insisted and I retreat to the library.
I walked among the stacks and found a quiet place to read. I am calmer, but I still feel like a monster. My son told me that he figured out if I yell, he should stay in his room. Smart boy, but it breaks my heart. I am thinking that I need to find a way to explain PTSD and DID to a 5 year old. I've explained DID in the loosest of terms to my husband without using the term "dissociative identity disorder" because I am too scared to tell him. But I need my son to realize that I am not really a monster.
I voluntary put both of my sons to rest this afternoon so my husband could get a head start on errands and mowing the lawn. My older son has been popping up out of his room lately. He obsessively asks if we are staying upstairs or in the house. Well, today it was just me and I planned to rest and nap. I was exhausted.
About 1 minute after I had closed my son's door, he was in my room. He had forgotten some toys in the hallway that he wanted in his room. Fine, I can live with that. Before leaving me, he asked "Are you staying upstairs?" and I said, "You already know that answer." (We went over it about 10 times before I left his room.) Then, he came back about 5 minutes later. I got that familiar drowning feeling of being overwhelmed and wham, angry one was out. I yelled. I struggled for control. I asked questions that were very caring, but I kept switching to the angry one and yelling. Not good. Finally I got enough control and while crying, covering my ears, and closing my eyes, I told my son it was safer for him to go to his room. I don't want him to see my lose control.
I felt like such a monster. My husband returned home during all that. He came up and found me sobbing on the bed. Well actually, he found one of my parts. She was curled up hiding her head sobbing and scratching though trying not to. She said she wanted to go away and my husband said to go to the library. He had no idea that she meant go back inside. I didn't want to leave because I felt like I was letting my husband down. He already does so much because I can't. He insisted and I retreat to the library.
I walked among the stacks and found a quiet place to read. I am calmer, but I still feel like a monster. My son told me that he figured out if I yell, he should stay in his room. Smart boy, but it breaks my heart. I am thinking that I need to find a way to explain PTSD and DID to a 5 year old. I've explained DID in the loosest of terms to my husband without using the term "dissociative identity disorder" because I am too scared to tell him. But I need my son to realize that I am not really a monster.