Around The Bend

[Deleted member 12723]

@Muse physical pain really can mess with my head and down dosing off of meds can be a very rough time until your body adapts and stabalizes so no wonder the depression is hanging on so fiercely. Hang in there and maybe do a lot of self care if you are able, and have the time.:hug:

 

[Powder]

I feel the anger. Anger turned inward is the depression, I have heard said. That is a theory.

I feel the anger at both of my parents for their cruel and sadistic control.

I feel disgust that the evil hangs on inside of me that I cannot depart myself from the damage.

 

[Powder]

I hate what I see in the mirror, and I cannot understand why my husband says he loves me and why he doesn't feel what I feel.

I know feelings/emotions are not real like that, but this feeling is so strong I am in disbelief that it is not real. I cannot believe that it is not written all over me what happened and the feeling of it.

I feel disgust for my whole life and being. It feels more than at any other time very dark and like it will never be alright again.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Muse that sounds like programing from brain washing a lie. You will come out of this downward spiral into the light again and feel so much better once you begin to resist the lies. It will get better, just try to give yourself some down time where you give yourself some safety and comfort. You sure deserve it.:hug:

 

[Powder]

The fragmented selves who were tortured are so depressed, and now I feel it too and see why this massive depression that is always just there sometimes surfaces for no apparent reason.

They feel that if being alive in a body means you can be (insert the constant traumas from 0-5 from the 7 adult perps, 2 being parents) , then maybe being dead is really a good idea.

I also feel bad that I said, to my little sister, before the flashback revelations about what really happened, "It's just hard being here in a body" and seeing her crumble and cry. I said it again, and again, she crumbled and wept.

This thought, being in a body here, makes us both feel like weeping, 30 years after the fact of severe trauma. We are weary of being here. I think that it is hard to move on in life when you have spent all of it wishing you were never born or that you could just not be here anymore.

 

[Powder]

I was "okay" for a couple days so I could finish the week.

Since 2011, when it all came back to me...I just somehow "get through" the week with work, work, work, and then I feel super crashed out, tired, and depressed Friday night and Saturday.

It's not food, sleep, body stuff. It's not med dose. It's just me with whatever I have. PTSD, probably DID. Maybe DDNOS.

I know I do have alters, adults and then children, who do come to the front and yet, I am coconscious. I am not able to stop the switching.

I have tried to ignore and deny it. My husband has been with me 21 years.

He can see the different alters immediately. I can tell that he can tell. I tried to lie to say I am not switching, and he will back off and just try to be helpful. But we are able to talk about it now. He notices that I select different clothes for different ones.

I notice things like an emotion that is linked, my voice changing, my handwriting and other skills change totally, and appetite and abilities.

I used to be able to switch into different "modes" as needed for various tasks. I was more dissociative then. It was like an automatic transmission; didn't have to think much about it.

Now, it's become very exhausting to live that way. Demands of the multiple hats to wear all day means I cannot be in one alter all the time. I need skills from all of them, and it's too tiring switching all day. Wears me out.

 

[Powder]

I am working on accepting this. I'm actually able to in whatever i'm in right now.

There is one who doesn't want this system to be known. But if I regularly acknowledge that this protector part is loving and just trying to protect me from further ham, she doesn't choke me for talking about the splitting.

The choking is for some reason related to the death threats. I believe some of the ego stages/alters think that others would have them dead. I'm trying to prove to each that we are all really me at different times and not separate. Somehow, this doesn't sink in all the way.

 

[Powder]

I need to record dates of FB's and Shingles to see if there's a pattern.

FB: woke up to, Sat. April 23 - Torture with electricity

Two nights prior, was dreaming about being captive in the torture room, peering into the box, looking at colors they projected like a kaleidoscope
didn't realize that it was related.

Seems the EP was showing me images in dreams prior to the FB upon Wake.

Shingles week of May 2. On face, right upper lip, right eye/nose area (same spot as scaring).

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug:

 

[Powder]

I wish I could have validation and corroboration on the torture at the Funeral Parlor/Church. However, I have read that few people can remember severe childhood torture.

I cannot remember a whole lot of it. I was only 4.5 - 5 range.

And I don't know if my friends were targeted, too. I sincerely hope not. But if they were, it may do both of us some good to know we are not crazy.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Muse Sometimes I think that it is a blessing if there are some things I do not remember. When I first started therapy, I would do anything to get all of my memories, but after so many years and the memories are not there, I consider it a mixed blessing. You are not crazy at all. I wish you well on your healing process.:hug:

 

[Powder]

This is where my mother took my little sister and I to drown us. She tried drowning my sister first but had to drag her with me holding onto her little legs, all the way from the side of the road through the gravel to the river.

When I saw this photo, my heart started pounding and I knew it was here that came close to being the last place I was alive on earth.

My mother loved this place, and she maybe thought it was an appropriate place to die.

What you can't see is the vast array of dark river rocks, one of which I used to pound my mother's forehead to make her let go of my sister who she had been holding down under water.

It was night and lightly raining.

I was five.