• We are a multilingual website again. Read the notice about this.
  • Understand AI use at MyPTSD: all AI use is explained in our AI help page. AI use is by choice here. It exists if you want it, but does nothing unless you choose to use it.

Strange Star

I went to therapy today.
I am glad I did.
I was pretty scrambled up. Stopped and got a GIGANTIC Starbucks coffee. I don't think I have ever had a cup of coffee that big.
I sat on the hall steps waiting for him to finish with his client. The coffee was hot enough to keep me relatively present, but at some point I started to go "out." Then, for the first time ever in the year I've been meeting him on Fridays at this office, there was huge foot traffic on the stairs. Five different people walked by me and said "Excuse me." It was enough to pull me back (the first one) and keep me there (the other four over the course of 10 minutes) until my therapist came out to tell me he was ready.
Maybe I got what I needed. Because I needed to see him today, and I needed to be present enough that we could have the conversation I needed to have. And we did.

And it was helpful. And I told him the truth about some things that are happening to me and thoughts I am having...as best as I could describe it...and he did not run away. He did not explode. He did not do anything at all except listen with obvious understanding and compassion.

I said nothing specific about the throat stuff, but I did ask him if he knows how to cleanse himself of others' energy. He said he does. I told him he needed to do an extra good job after he meets with me. He said he didn't sense that he needed to do that with me any more than any of his other clients. I told him he did. We talked about my concerns about being poisonous to people in terms of where this belief comes from in my past. But I also indicated that there was something far more complicated/different than this as well. Some weird energetic thing that I need to learn how to manage. Anyway, it was a good conversation. I had a lot of clarity coming through about the ways in which some of my parts are working together. He made some extraordinarily helpful suggestions for some things I can do. He told me he can take care of himself. I hope this is true. Because I love him and I don't want anything bad to happen to him. But also because I need him to be here for me.

For the first time since I was a very small child, I have started to trust someone enough to let them "in" to my inner life. It is terrifying. I have parts convinced I will destroy him and me by doing this and are screaming NO NO NO. And I have parts that are desperate for a witness and someone strong enough to hang onto all my flown apart pieces and guide me as I rebuild myself. And he is the lucky recipient of that honor. I...GASP...NEED HIM. :wideeyed::wtf::woot::yuck:.

I need him. Those two words, I NEED, feel very very dangerous in my system. I am trying to just notice that and not shut down the feeling. Not panic. Not hate myself for feeling them. For it's not the words themselves. Its the feeling. The emotion of NEED that is so frightening that it makes me sick to my stomach.

I KNOW that in order to rebuild myself/integrate/become one person, I have to let go enough to trust. To trust that NOW I will not be destroyed if I NEED. To trust that NOW I will not destroy anyone else by having needs. That "I NEED" makes me human. And to be human is to be vulnerable. And to be vulnerable is terrifying because of what happened thennow. And that maybe the terror will abate as I learn to trust that what happened/s thennow is NOT what is happing NOW and will not be what happens in the nowsoon.

I am going to do my own cleansing now. Sage. Earth, air, fire, water, light. I can do this. I am walking an extremely narrow and dangerous path. I need to pay mindful attention. I am grateful for those in my life who believe I can make this journey to wholeness and health. I think somewhere deep inside me I believe I can too, but my parts sure make a lot of racket about how I can't and won't and shouldn't and mustn't and the infinity of reasons why not. I am working so hard to listen to them and acknowledge them with compassion. They are all terrified. I am one big pulpy, sticky mess of terror and fear and pain. But I am here, somewhere. I. SELF. I can do this.
 
How's the tent and stuff? *So green with envy*
So...let's go again. :)

I haven't set it up yet. I think it will be palatial. 10'x10' I think. I got the bigger one (6 person). Not much more money. A lot more space. I have conceded that I will not be backpack camping probably ever again (unless I get walking better), so no need to worry about size or weight. And if I go kayak camping, I still have the little 2-person tent I can use.

Am going to try sleeping on the cot before deciding. So far, it is sturdy and doesn't squeak. About to try napping on it :)

I have realized that, to some extent, this tent/camping thing is replaying something one of my child parts used to do all the time when I was in my house. I used to "live" upside down on the ceiling of whatever space I was in. The tent bit is sort of the equivalent of that, except right side up and on earth. Progress :) When I wasn't in my house, I was either on my bicycle, up in a tree, or wading in a river and launching twigboats. Not allowed to build fires...so campfires are an extra added bonus.
 
The cot is awesomely comfy. It doesn't squeak. And it is actually big enough that my 50 lb. lap dog slept next to me as I rested! Very comforting for both of us. She's not psycho when she's sleeping. Especially when she's on benadryl. She is very cute and comforting. I miss the purring kitty sometimes, but nothing can replace a big, smelly, snoring dog. I could do without the smelly part. Bath and summer shave desperately needed.

I had a good rest. Spent time with my "parts." Sigh. The reality of all this keeps hitting me over the head, then receding. I am still getting used to it. Especially because they "talk" now. Or I can hear them. Or I say things that come from them. That's happening more frequently now. Freaks me out the way the body memory stuff used to freak me out but doesn't so much any more. This is what I talked about with the t today a little. Because I wanted to know if this means I'm getting better or getting worse. I couldn't think of any other way to ask about it...even though "better" and "worse" are judgment words. I'm still not sure he actually gave me a clear answer. But he did acknowledge that he's not surprised that voices are emerging out of the noise because we have done so much work trying to get to know these parts and spend time with them, and that my protector parts are giving some space. But that they are riled because the exiles are emerging more. That I need to be compassionate. I know this is happening, on some level. It's just that I am actually experiencing it as a full experience (not just intellectual and not just physical). There are feelings/emotions there. Lots of scared parts.

More and more memory keeps coming back. Not all of it is bad. Most of it is though. Some are recycled memories...memories I have but that were disconnected from me or any emotion are now coming round again and I am feeling something. And trying very hard to just be with that feeling without running or panicking or hurting myself or judging. I begin to see how we feel feelings in our bodies. And the difference between reacting to/falling into those feelings vs. just noticing them. I did a good job just noticing them while I was resting with my doggie.

The dinner table memories were strongest today. Awful. Surreal. David Lynch-ish. Or worse. I didn't know that then...I knew it was terrible, but I thought it was me...my problem. I'm seeing the thennow from the NOW a little more. Occasionally. This is good.

In a few minutes I am going to meet my writing group for a half-social (drinks on porch overlooking ocean...thank you for wealthy friends who belong to oceanfront yacht clubs with full service bars) and half-work (two people have written stuff, one submitted for publication). I have nothing to offer but my ears and heart, but that's okay. I've started my new poems. There are two. I think they may be okay. We'll see. Not ready for workshopping yet though.

I got as far as putting the baby plants into the empty larger containers they'll live in. I couldn't manage to get the bags of soil up from the basement. Will get stronger people to do that for me tomorrow. I will not push myself too hard. I will not. I hate that I can't do things the way I used to...but I am trying to be compassionate with myself.

Okay. Time to go be social. It is a beautiful night, and we'll watch the sunset and stand for taps and the flag lowering, and toast to each other's future writing successes. This.is.good. I have a right to do this. I belong to this group. They wanted me. And they know what happened too. And they still want me. They want me to write about it. I want to write about it too. Look out May Sarton, I've got stories to top yours.
 
I don't want to go home
Say parts.
This is not thennow
Say parts
Nowhere to go
Say parts
You had a nice time with friends and you need to go home
Say parts
Get out of the convenience store parking lot
Say parts
I think this is parts
Say self???
Go home.
I going home.
Whatever that is
Say parts.
I HATE PTSD
 
Last edited:
I am home.
I ate some food. That was good.
I am in a weird semi-flashback/dissociated thing right now.

I want a mother.
I don't have/didn't have a "real" mother.
I had a birth mother.
I had an adoptive mother.
I didn't have a real mother.

Or father.
Same as above. I want one.
After my father died, I asked my father-in-law if he would be my father.

He said yes.
But it didn't quite work the way I thought it would.

I spent some moments looking at my hands tonight.
They didn't seem like mine. So I knew I was not in good shape.
But still, I looked, and was able to say to myself,

"These hands have raised two children. These hands changed diapers. And rubbed backs and foreheads gently, and wrapped children in comforting blankets, and retrieved lost stuffies, and bandaged cuts, and drove to places that they wanted to go. These hands helped with homework. These hands tucked in blankets. These hands took temperatures, and gave gifts. These hands hugged and wrote notes and took photos. These hands cleaned up messes and tied ties and shoes and bows in the hair. These hands showed love the best they could."

These hands are old and spotted and wrinkled.

These hands are not much different than other hands. Than my mother's or my father's hands. Adoptive or otherwise.

These hands have done the very best that they could, under the circumstances.

These hands are guilty. These hands are innocent. These hands are just hands.

These hands are mine.

But they come partly from others. I am of a whole. I am not unique, or alone, or an alien.

I am a human being. Just like everyone else.


I want a mother and father. I want the ones I didn't have.

I cannot have them.

This is very sad to me. Very hard for my parts who are stuck being children in need.

I NEED a bridge.

These hands can't parent my inner children. I cannot do this by myself. I have tried, and tried.

And tried.

I can't.

I'm not strong enough.

I NEED.
 
I am going to attempt sleep now.
With half dose of seroquel.
Decided to stop permanently. Will try to de-titrate more responsibly.

I said some things I should probably not have said to my friends tonight. Not good. Good. I don't know yet if I care. I think I don't.
 
Hope, this may sound like a really strange thing to say right now, but you are an inspiration. Recognizing what you need, and even the fact that you do need, is huge. Allowing that and voicing it is a huge step, and it may feel sad and scary but it breaks down the barriers we build to keep ourselves from feeling the depth of the loss. Letting them break down, bit by bit, is part of integrating and healing. You're allowed to need. You're allowed to say it, and you say it so eloquently. Thank you. May today be peaceful for you my friend.
 
May today be peaceful for you my friend.
Thank you, Sun. And to you too.

I was in a weird place last night.
I slept.
I had a wild dream that was quite disturbing and I still don't quite know what to make of it. I wrote about it without judging or interpreting it. I will have to assume that its significance will become clearer at some point. My dreams, when I remember them, are usually pretty obvious. This one had a lot of obvious pieces to it, but the way the narrative played out was totally confusing. That's the part I would like to understand. Because it is pretty obviously related to a bunch of things I am processing.

It is just a dream.

Today is another gorgeous day. I am so grateful for this weather. I get very sick in the humidity. I dread humidity. It is not humid today. Not even hot. Just perfectly right.

I am a bit worried for me today because already I know there is too much on the schedule. A lunch barbie with one set of friends. Dinner party with another set of friends. And I want to plant the herbs and veggies this morning. How pathetic that this seems like a lot to do. But I know it is too much. So I will need to leave the afternoon barbie early enough to come home and sleep/rest before the dinner tonight. It is very hard for me to think this way.

Sometimes I think I would do better as a hermit. But other times, like last night, I realize that I need to connect with people. There has got to be some kind of happy medium. Got to be some kind of way for me to find solitude within the shape of my current life. Not working helps hugely with this...but it is artificial. I will need to learn how to balance when I do return to work someday.

One step at a time, I suppose. I get too anxious when my parts start making noise about the nowsoon. (I like these crazy time words I've made up. It makes me feel like e.e. cummings. I understand now why he made up words. It is very satisfying to create a word that matches an idea better than existing words do.

Doggie has fallen in love with my camp cot. She is sleeping on it right now. I am going off to take an "intentional" shower in hot water. My miraculously repaired hot water heater seems to be continuing to function. Sometimes the gods smile on me, I suppose. I could have wished for a financial windfall instead...but I'll take what I can get. Hot water means a lot to me.

Today, my intention for the shower is cleansing all my layers. My intention for the rest of the day is to try to stay in NOW as much as I can.
 

Donation drives

2026 Donation Goal

Goal
$1,800.00
Earned
$910.00
This donation drive ends in
0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds
  50.6%

Trending content

Featured content

Back
Top Bottom