This is my first post, and I don't quite know how this site works yet, so I apologize if I end up messing up in that regard somehow.
Not sure how long I'll keep up with writing here. It'd be good to make a habit out of it I think, but how long I keep up with this is a decision left only for god himself to decide lol. Whether I freak out with anxiety and avoid it or I simply forget about it for months, who knows.
I was diagnosed with DID a little over 2 years ago by my current therapist, and the nature of my trauma/memories feels more like a messy collage slapped together by a toddler than any coherent timeline of events. And I know there's more trauma that I don't remember yet. Hell I don't even remember 75% of the trauma I do know happened.
I remember once thinking to myself something like "There's absolutely no way my childhood was bad enough to cause this." And then, clear as day, I heard a voice from inside my head say "No. You have no idea." As in, "You have no idea how bad it was." I don't even know which part said it. Maybe it's one I know of already. Maybe it's one of the countless parts I know have to exist but haven't been able to communicate with yet.
Anyway, all that to say, that's the inspiration behind the title for this diary o' mine.
Uhg, I was planning on starting to write actual stuff, but I'm getting a headache now and feeling like my head is getting filled with cotton. I've been recovering physically from two surgeries I had early this year, and getting stressed makes it so much worse and just halts everything, so I guess this is my cue to stop for now and come back later.
Not sure how long I'll keep up with writing here. It'd be good to make a habit out of it I think, but how long I keep up with this is a decision left only for god himself to decide lol. Whether I freak out with anxiety and avoid it or I simply forget about it for months, who knows.
I was diagnosed with DID a little over 2 years ago by my current therapist, and the nature of my trauma/memories feels more like a messy collage slapped together by a toddler than any coherent timeline of events. And I know there's more trauma that I don't remember yet. Hell I don't even remember 75% of the trauma I do know happened.
I remember once thinking to myself something like "There's absolutely no way my childhood was bad enough to cause this." And then, clear as day, I heard a voice from inside my head say "No. You have no idea." As in, "You have no idea how bad it was." I don't even know which part said it. Maybe it's one I know of already. Maybe it's one of the countless parts I know have to exist but haven't been able to communicate with yet.
Anyway, all that to say, that's the inspiration behind the title for this diary o' mine.
Uhg, I was planning on starting to write actual stuff, but I'm getting a headache now and feeling like my head is getting filled with cotton. I've been recovering physically from two surgeries I had early this year, and getting stressed makes it so much worse and just halts everything, so I guess this is my cue to stop for now and come back later.
