Strange Star

[Pietro]

they have accepted me into the 2 week residential program starting on June 16th.

Yeah!!!!!!!! :laugh:

I need a ziploc bag or something to carry all these shards around in until I can gorilla glue them together again.

Epoxy is stronger.

I have made a fairly good discovery. Some of my parts will talk pretty openly if I can cook up a trustworthy and kind person in my imagination for them to talk to.

Wow, need to try this myself!

His email said, "I hope this isn't to harsh, but..." Yes. It is harsh. Parts of me are actually pretty angry.

Which is a normal emotional response. One which, given our upbringing, takes enormous courage to allow. Which likely indicates some real progress!

I found the photo a few months ago. I am a mother. I was not 18 months old. I was around 6 months old. Can someone actually remember that? Or am I imagining things?

This is controversial. Many believe that the human mind is not capable of retaining anything but very primitive sensory memory before a certain age. But no one really knows what that age is. I've known folks who claim to remember being in-utero. And, I've also read research studies that pretty clearly indicate that if there's a lot of violence, argument, or other negative activity during pregnancy, the newborn child will be heavily affected by this emotionally.

IMHO, by 6 months, a baby is usually pretty much "cooked". :) They are emotional, they recognize people, interact, etc. Retention of early memory occurs in two situations that I'm aware of: those that are highly intelligent, and those who've suffered some form of trauma where retention of the memory, or, at least, the need to remember things, becomes important for survival. My memory started sometime after my 2nd birthday -- way young. My therapist indicated that it's usually more like age 5-7 where a child starts remembering day to day things.

I think it may be time to write my story.

I'd read it! I think this is a great idea. Not only would your experiences would help many others, you have the ability to write. You would be able to communicate all of this well. :)

 

[sun seeker]

I have a couple of memories of infancy, not sure what age. They're emotionally neutral and solidly grounded in my own experience, i.e. there is no possibility I'm imagining I remember from things others have told me. They're seemingly random, no idea why my brain chose to hang on to those and not others. Then I have body memories that are very different from that, not episodic at all but pure emotion, a very different kind of emotion from anything at a later age. That's how I can place them in time, more or less. It's definitely possible.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

You will be ok someday. Just keep on going to therapy and writing out yourself and your process. It is so difficult to be where you are now, but have hope, because you will get better.

 

[Hope4Now]

Hello today. More dreams last night. Obvious ones. And it's okay. I am listening to myself. I'll write about them in my journal today because my parts obviously have things to communicate with me that are getting blocked when I am awake.

I am doing a lot of listening these days. Listening without judging. This is WAY NEW for me. I am grateful that my protector parts have relaxed a little sometimes. Enough to let me be able to listen with compassion to the cacophony inside. It is overwhelming. And it is very frightening to see it leaking out in front of me and even in front of other people.

I am so easily overwhelmed by sensory stimulation these days. There is just too much input for my system to handle. This morning, over coffee in the kitchen, a minor thing occurred that allowed me to see what is happening. My son had just pressed play so I could hear a Cheryl Wheeler song he thought I'd find funny. At the same time, my husband began to talk about his plans for the day. My brain short-circuited. I crouched and my arms went over my head in protective mode and I started saying "Stop stop stop." They both stopped right away, and I recovered fast. My son even said: "Sensory overload!" He gets it, because it happens to him (he has ADHD).

He turned off the music, and I encouraged my husband to say what he was saying. He didn't want to. I had scared him. He felt like what happened was his fault. It wasn't and I said so. Explained why. So he spoke, then we said goodbye. My son played the song which had us both in gales of laughter. See below. This all played out in such a good and healthy way. It would not have been like this a year ago. Then, I would never have allowed the overwhelm to "show." My son would have thought I had no interest in the song; my husband would have thought I had no interest in what he had to say. Both would have felt a little angry and rejected. I would have felt resentful at their competing bids for my attention. I would have been angry with myself for not being able to meet both their needs. It might have spiralled into a vortex-place for me that could have lasted for hours of me beating on myself about what is wrong with me.

But no. Instead, I communicated what was happening (not voluntarily unfortunately). They understood because I have made a huge effort to communicate with them what is happening with me and that it is not their fault, but that there are things they can do to help. It turned into a relatively healthy moment. I mean, having a wife-mother who goes into full-defense mode just because two people are talking at once is not particularly healthy. But...the sequelae was. All three of us felt okay about ourselves and each other at the end of the moment. This would not have been the case a year ago. This is progress for me. For all of us. Infinitesimal progress. But progress.

I love Cheryl Wheeler. Her ironic humor so appeals. I need a daily dose of her.

 

[Valentino]

There is just too much input for my system to handle.

From an enneagram type 5 angle, this could be seen as a good thing, you are recognizing your limits of your emotional sensitivity, but also getting exposure at the edges, which can develop tolerance and increase your capacity to endure emotional intensity...

Here's an excerpt about Enneagram type 5's:

Fives are polarized about boundary issues in the following way: They are extremely emotionally sensitive, often hypersensitive. So to protect this sensitivity, they develop unusually strong boundaries.

These boundaries feature detachment. Noninvolvement, being just an observer, is one way of insuring that one is not invaded. Fives fear invasion. Fives, Sixes and Sevens are all fear-based; but the specific fear of the Five is of being invaded, of being overwhelmed. Their island is protected by distance, not by hostility or placation.

--- source: http://www.enneagramcentral.com/Enneagram/LonelyFives.htm

My experiences of trauma basically disabled my ability to detach and think my way out of problems. Eventually it forced me as an embodied conscious observer utterly helpless and overwhelmed in the face of emotional intensity and chaos within myself and also triggered by others.

But with exposure and education, I gradually developed resilience and capacity to deal with raw emotions, and also I slowly got used to and comfortable with feelings of incompetence and the natural unpredictable chaotic nature of existence and relationships.

I think that the over activity of your inner parts and your ability to consciously observe is a hopeful sign of progress. At first it feels like a huge flood of energy similar to a water dam that gets broken open, but with time the flow settles down and equalizes, creating predictability and 'smoother sailing'. :tup:

 

[Hope4Now]

I've done too much again today. I am still working on learning my limitations. Yesterday, I took my daughter shopping and to get her hair cut. She is attending her first semi-formal tonight. Very exciting. We bought most of what she needed for camp (sigh, she is still growing so nothing from last year fits...and damn clothes are expensive! Especially underwear and bras!!! Yikes.). Anyway, I felt good when we started. It took 6 hours. I was wrecked...completely wrecked when we got home. Could barely walk. Went right to bed.

Felt better this morning, then did too much again. It's not even like I'm working. I worked in the garden, visited with a friend, did some writing, and got my hair cut rather dramatically. I am wrecked again.

What is the common theme? I have not stopped during the day to meditate, stretch, and sleep for my usual 2-4 hours. I have not been in this much pain for so many hours since the winter. Ugh. I suppose I am going to have to build my life around rest time. I know I need to do this. I know I need to listen to my exhausted body. This is why I am on leave from work. But there are just too many fun things to do. I feel like a little kid. :wideeyed: Oh. Yeah. Forgot for a moment. I have little kid parts. Some of them want to PLAY. But my grownup parts are really really tired. Bleh.

I channeled my inner teenager today. Shortest haircut I've ever had. A little spiky. The blue goes in tonight. It's not quite as short as I really wanted it, but the guy who cuts my hair said I could come back if it wasn't "extreme" enough for me. :D:eek:. Yes, my family thinks I'm nuts, but they still seem to love me. My therapist will be surprised tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to seeing his face. My mother will flip out. I don't care. :wtf:. Na na na boo boo :coldfeet::alien::wacky:.

At the interview for the residential program, they asked if I act impulsively. This probably looks that way, but it's not. I've been thinking about it for a while. It's just that when I finally decide to do something, I like to do it immediately. So if people don't know I've been thinking about it, they are taken by surprise.

I am going to throw my sorry old bones on the bed for a little before I cook dinner for my son and myself. We're on our own tonight. I don't even have to cook because he doesn't seem to eat anything ever. Except peanut butter. What will happen to him at college scares me. He is already far too thin. I wish I could transfer some of my extra to his frame. Then maybe I could find trousers that fit him.

The veggies and herbs are planted. Yay. Flowers tomorrow. And packing up my office at work. Which will be really, really depressing. I think I am going to turn down the invitation to speak at the international conference in October. Nobody at work seems to care whether or not I do it, so I don't think I will. Because I certainly don't need the notoriety that some of my colleagues crave. I would only do it for the program. And it's a lot--5 days in some city in Texas, thousands of people, videotape.... Nah. I've talked myself out of it. Nobody expects me to do this one except me. And I'm on medical leave. I'll use my energy for my creative stuff instead. "Okay," she says, slapping her hands together, "That's decided."

I'm going to stop thinking out loud now. Time to rest. Peace out from one who is giving new meaning to the derogatory term, "blue-haired old lady." :laugh:.

 

[Pietro]

This all played out in such a good and healthy way. It would not have been like this a year ago. Then, I would never have allowed the overwhelm to "show." My son would have thought I had no interest in the song; my husband would have thought I had no interest in what he had to say. Both would have felt a little angry and rejected. I would have felt resentful at their competing bids for my attention. I would have been angry with myself for not being able to meet both their needs. It might have spiralled into a vortex-place for me that could have lasted for hours of me beating on myself about what is wrong with me.

Bravo! I completely agree with you. I can't deal with multiple people vying for my attention at the same time; never really have been able to handle this. My kids love to do this, because they have a tendency to just start speaking without regard for what I or others are doing, including speaking. ;) I often have to tell them "one at a time, please". My mother has done this as well. What a family. :/

In any case, I don't think your reaction was all that off-base. Human multi-tasking is a myth perpetuated by people who think they can squeeze more productivity out of employees that way.

Your son deserves credit, too, for recognizing the "overload" part. In my house, we all have the same quirks, so we generally understand what's going on. But, frequently, my kids stick-up for one another if they feel I'm not honoring the need for one of them to calm-down or decompress, and remind me of what's supposed to happen. :)

I love Cheryl Wheeler.

This is very funny. :) She's got a nice voice, and I like the way she plays the guitar. She has a unique sound.

 

[Hope4Now]

This is very funny.

Glad you got a good laugh. She has some really funny songs.
Thanks for the validation too @Pietro!

 

[Hope4Now]

Oh boy. It has already been a day and now I have to take my dog to the vet. Which doesn't sound like a big deal, but she has massive fear anxiety which looks like angry. The vet is a MAJOR trigger for both of us. Sigh. But ear medicine must be obtained and rabies shot must be had. Might as well top off a wild day with that. I think I am going to have to break the no alcohol rule tonight. Or else take a lot of ativan. I'd much prefer scotch.

I had a really, really long appointment with my therapist today. He said we would go longer, but then we went even longer than that. I don't know why I feel guilty about that. Feel like it is my fault. Like I took up way too much of his time and didn't even pay him for it. But it was HIS idea. My head was kind of spinning at the end. Sat on the bathroom floor for a bit, but not too long. Got it together.

Something utterly and indescribably weird and intense went on in the appointment. I don't think this has ever happened to me before. Maybe I just don't remember. Anyway, he was talking to one of my parts. Directly. Like talking. Like actual conversation. And it was talking back. And I was sort of there. And then he was talking to me too. And I was there. I felt like my head was exploding. But I think I actually did it. I think I actually managed to let some of the inside parts outside. I don't remember a lot of what I said. It was like I was traveling back and forth in some alternate realities. Totally bizarre. And part of me was just hanging out and watching. I call that part "the Observer" but I don't really know what it is. Is it me? SELF? Not sure. I don't think so. But not sure. I have to say I'm kind of flipped out.

I'm also flipped out that he said he "cares" about me. That he would "help" me with my parts. I didn't know whether to cry in relief or run for the hills. I had no idea what to say. Of course I WANT him to care about me. And to help me. That's why I keep going. I love him. He's awesome both as a person and a therapist. But I can't quite believe what he says either. He asked me how it felt to "take that in." It took a bit of effort but I finally managed to shake my head and say, "Why?" Why ever would he care about me or want to help me? That is really, really hard for me to understand. And, god/s love him, he responded with the line that makes me cringe. "That's a part talking." Sigh. He's right. It was. So does that mean I have to "take it in?" to trust that he is telling me the truth? That he won't betray me like so many other people have? I have to sit with this one for a while. See, I can love people, but I can't believe they can love me. Which kind of sucks. Because it would be nice to feel loved and cared for. To feel like my existence is okay and maybe even a nice thing for some people.

This leads to the next thing that is flipping me out. I went to my work today to clean out all my personal stuff from my office because it is getting taken over by new hires. Sigh. But I get it. My younger colleague has already taken over my job. Sigh again. I can go back when I'm ready, but who knows in what capacity. Anyway, my boss was there. I haven't seen him for like two months. We talked for a while. We also talked about whether I should accept this invitation to speak at the conference in October. I told him that it seemed like it really didn't matter to anybody. Apparently it does. Apparently my husband was correct in his interpretation of my boss's emails. That my boss is trying to free me up and make me stop thinking about work stuff so I can get better. It's not that he doesn't care about me. He's trying to be nice. Hmmm. And then. He gave me a hug goodbye. I LOVE hugs, but understand that this man does.not.hug. He's a lawyer and probably all wigged out about interactions with a female colleague. I have worked with him for 13 or 14 years and the only other time he hugged me was at my father's funeral (to which I was stunned he showed up).

THEN, I went downstairs and two of my colleagues who were there came bursting into my office to hug me and say hello and offer their help. They seemed genuinely glad to see me. They helped me carry stuff to my car. One invited me to her art show. They hugged me goodbye. They all know I have PTSD stuff because I told them. They don't really seem to treat me any differently. Not like I am crazy or contagious. Hmmm. I guess I am very, very lucky in the people who surround me. Even my friend M. stopped by yesterday when I was in the garden to see how I was doing. Huh?

WTF? I am getting this really weird inkling that maybe I have been wrong. Maybe people do care about me. I mean, I know my family does...it's not that. It's just that I generally assume I am pretty invisible and expendable to other people. I'm having an It's A Wonderful Life moment, I suppose. Mind boggling, really.

 

[Pietro]

WTF? I am getting this really weird inkling that maybe I have been wrong. Maybe people do care about me. I mean, I know my family does...it's not that. It's just that I generally assume I am pretty invisible and expendable to other people. I'm having an It's A Wonderful Life moment, I suppose. Mind boggling, really.

Yup, you are 100% absolutely wrong about people not caring. :D How do I know? I have the exact same experiences. I continually feel as if no one would skip a beat if I disappeared, and I have been proven wrong every single time. But internalizing this has been an enormous challenge. No matter how many times it gets proven wrong, the effect wears-off very quickly. The walls go back up. This is one of the biggest challenges to healing, because it interferes with connection, keeps us isolated and facilitates feelings of abandonment.

Wish I had an solution. ;) Maybe you'll find one before me.

 

[Hope4Now]

Saturday morning.

Trying to write/process some of what happened in my appointment yesterday. And also something my friend M said when he visited for a bit that keeps nagging at me.

I cannot focus on ANYTHING when my family are around me. Too many interruptions. Constant. I find myself getting frustrated. Angry even. This is a part or parts...I recognize that. My family is doing nothing wrong at all. Just living life and including me in it. If I want to be left alone, I need to say that. To communicate before I get overwhelmed. I need to close my study door. It is hard to do that because other parts, caretaker parts, won't let me. Argh. Finally, though, I packed everyone off to their various Saturday activities and have had some quiet time. I've remembered some more things about yesterday, which is good. Scary, but good.

Partly scary because my t said something that made me feel like he was reading my mind. But maybe he just knows me now. Or maybe I have said things to him about this stuff that I don't remember saying. At the end, he said, "This is real. This is not a game. This is real and it works." I think he was referring to the completely surreal interactions we had during the appointment. How did he know that as I gathered my wits about me to get going that I was already telling myself none of what happened was me or real. Sigh. Maybe I have talked about that stuff with him. Feeling like it is a game. Not me. Not real. Not happening.

I seem to lose track of what I have written here, what I have written in my paper journal, and what I have said and to whom. Sometimes, often, I decide to share something profound with my husband. I screw up my courage and think I am about to make a HUGE BIG admission about something. And I do. And he says, "I know. We talked about that." WTF. Shit.

This also goes to something M said to me the other day when I was talking about cutting my hair short. He said, "Maybe you can cut only half of it. You can be half-boy and half-girl." Ummm. I don't recall EVER sharing with HIM anything about my gender conflicts. My husband yes. My therapist, yes. One or two other selected people. But not him. This scares me. I must have. Because I don't think it is that obvious. And I don't think my husband has ever spoken with M about it either.

It scares me that I think sometimes I say things to people and don't remember saying them. Personal things. I know I said too much to my writing group the other night. I am aware of that one. Sometimes I do know when I feel like I've shared too much stuff. I know the feeling of vulnerability and fear and doubt and questioning. Yuk. Hate that feeling. I don't like thinking that I have told people personal things that I don't remember telling them, though. This is deeply disturbing to me. I am pretty sure I have done this with my therapist. And I must have with M. And I know I have done it occasionally here on the forum because once in a while I have looked back and been kind of horrified by some of my posts. But it is too late to recall them. And parts of me have gotten to the point of really not caring much anymore. I'm not there yet totally. But I'm getting there. It is time to let the inside stuff come out. So I can be a whole person.

I am beginning to get a little paranoid that people are reading my diary here. Of course I know some people do sometimes. But last night I looked at it in some window and it said that it had more than 11,000 views. And I realized just last week that I think my diary is in a public forum and not in a members only forum. Which I think means anybody can look at it even as a guest. WHO is looking at my diary here? I was stunned by those numbers. And scared. Really. It creeps me out.

Like facebook creeps me out too. The other day, I had not been logged into facebook for at least a week. An hour before I logged in, I had purchased something online. When I logged into FB, there was an advertisement for the exact thing I had just purchased. This is not the first time. I also get lots of ads on facebook that are geared to psychotropic meds, and PTSD. So clearly my privacy settings are no match for robots and web crawlers.

I have some decisions to make about continuing this diary and also continuing on facebook. Ugh. I'm really not that paranoid, but I also am I guess. Parts again. Sigh.

 

[Hope4Now]

Maybe you'll find one before me.

If I do, I'll share. What you said about the effect wearing off quickly is what happens to me. I find too many excuses for why people might act the way they are acting toward me. I am trying to remap those responses. Trying to talk myself into trusting that maybe, just maybe, people actually like having me around. That they...gasp...care about me. Or even love me. Why is that so terrifying?

I know. It has to do with the part I was working with yesterday. The part that is deeply invested in making me invisible at the least and completely vanish at best. To keep my out-of-body SELF safe. But now that I am in my body more, another part comes zooming in that wants to destroy the embodied self. Destructor part. Sigh. I am sort of starting to "get" all this parts stuff better and better. It still does not seem real at all. Parts of me are still very invested in having me believe that this is not really happening, nor--if it is--is it happening to me.

Okay, my brain is exploding again. Time for a cleansing shower.