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Strange Star

Breakthroughs continued during sleep. It took me a while, but I did get to sleep. Awakened at 4 AM by somebody's car alarm which also awakened my doggie who started whining and itching so I had to get up and give her meds. And the content of the dream hit. It was not a nightmare. It really was more of a vision kind of thing. The kind of thing I used to get when I meditated (well, some of those were horrid, but this one wasn't...just sad but also informative).

Anyway, I am pretty sure that what is happening at a neurological level is that my neurons are beginning to untangle their existing networks and creating some new connections. In psychology I guess this would be considered the continued development of co-consciousness of SELF and parts. (I have been "hearing" my parts for a while now, but haven't really believed in them...I don't know, it is hard to explain). Now, my parts are actually starting to meet each other, most of them for the first time. This started around a week and a half ago when I did a cranial-sacral session (that is some powerful juju when you're with the right person and are open) and what I think are two of my major parts came through in both image and bodily sensation and even some emotion (no clue if EP or ANP or really if it even matters to me anymore). The other thing that is happening in psychological lingo is that the derealization is getting better to some extent...a little at a time I am convincing myself that I am real, that I have all these parts that have to share this body, and that this actually does happen to people who have been terribly and repeatedly traumatized from very very young on through, and that the stuff that comes to me in flashbacks and body memories and intrusive memories and emotional flashbacks and inner voices is probably there because something along those lines actually did happen to this bodymind in this real life.

This all sounds so vague. It is complicated enough and hard enough to explain that it took me something like 20 pages in my journal to even document what happened to me in the 30 minutes or so I spent under a big blanket on our sofa when I got home last night and collapsed. It was wild and good. Suffice to say that in mostly SELF, I was able to connect with the babies and give them what they need. It was a huge breakthrough and left me feeling like my soul had shed 50 pounds of dark weight. What I had thought was one baby months ago and that we have worked with in therapy (Yoda is obsessed with keeping me focused on this baby part) turned into three babies (red baby, blue baby, and regular baby), and the comfort I had drummed up for the one baby sort of evaporated and all the babies vanished. Haven't been around for a few months I think. I told Yoda they were in deep space. I could't do anything but yell out into the dark, "I'm here! I know you're there!

Anyway, they showed up on the ride home yesterday and I had to contain them until I got home which I managed to do just well enough to get home safely, crawl upstairs, get a big soft blanket and collapse on the sofa. Daughter, dog and husband were all happily occupied and I was under the blanket all the way so nobody could see what was happening with my body anyway...so I just allowed it to happen but managed to hold the space so that only my body became the baby and I, in SELF, listened by being aware of what I was feeling inside my body and what I was doing with my hands and legs and face. And another baby showed up...the missing one...which is the one that hijacked me when I was at that residential program and got stuck out in the rain for a long time.

This time I did NOT get flooded, and I did NOT get overrun by protectors who kept me from connecting with the babies, and I did NOT dissociate into nothingness or fall asleep. What I did was listen and talk to them and then generate for them what they needed. So they are now on my safe island, each wrapped in a soft blanket and being rocked in a rocking chair by an appropriate helper person who is providing for them what they need (Which I can't do the way some people can when they talk about re-parenting. I seem to need to provide foster parents for my babies, at least for now. But that is okay. These are made up people except for one who is an old friend who had voluntarily helped when baby part first showed up, so I am not draining anybody's energy). It was a totally bizarre and wonderful experience that I think is a kind of step in the trauma processing stuff. Lots more stuff happened but those are the outlines so far.

Today I go to visit a friend at noon, then to see Yoda. I am reading through my newest journal which is long already, but documents a good bit of what has happened to me in the past week or two when things have been shifting so dramatically inside of me. I am reading it to see if my parts feel okay about giving it to Yoda to read first, then maybe to my husband, so they can understand better what is happening to me. Because I cannot explain it in out-loud-words. Only sort of in writing and in my artwork. But the writing is a bit clearer than the art. So we'll see. I would like to share it (not all the journals, but just this one). I need for them to understand better. Maybe Yoda already does. Sometimes I think he senses more than he says, but other times I sense his uncertainty too and his fear of destabilizing me and my own fear of harming him with my energy. That last bit we need to talk more about.

So, we'll see. The journals may be my only way to reveal clearly what is going on in my inside world. But very, very scary for parts to contemplate being "seen" even if it is just in words on the paper.
 
It's done. I gave Yoda the journal and said, "Here. This is my brain." I guess maybe I should have said, "This is the part of my brain focused on the inside world," so he doesn't think that all this shit is all I ever think about or do (although sometimes it does feel that way...).

I told him about getting hijacked by Scrappy and how I know this stuff is real now. And that the babies came back. He was glad the babies came back. He said he knew they would come back at some point, then, "Would you be willing to spend some time with the babies now?"

I said, "You're obsessed with the babies."

He laughed, and then said, "It is called 'tenacious caring.' 'Persistent tenacious caring;' it is actually a therapeutic term."

I thought he was kidding. He wasn't. Not sure what to think of this notion of "caring." I guess it feels kind of nice. I guess I'm glad. But it is scary too. Because when people care about you, and you about them, there is responsibility involved. And I have a hard time with that.

I said I wanted a break from the babies for a bit, and he said okay.

I told him a LOT of realization happened over the weekend. He wondered if it had something to do with the session on Friday when he did the direct access thing. Yep. Most definitely. He said we would do some more of that. I'm glad because even though it is so weird, it makes me feel so much better.

When he took my journal, he flipped through it and said, "There is a lot of different kinds of handwriting in here." Hmmm. I thought I had told him about the handwriting thing. Sometimes I really have no idea what I have told him and what I haven't. I think maybe this is why I gave him the journal. Because so much has happened in my inner life in the past 10 days or so. I hope he isn't too horrified. There is some yucky detail things in there. Not much, but. But maybe it is time for me to own this stuff and to share it with someone I trust. And I do trust him. And my parts do too. So this is good.

Now it is time to sleep before I have to go get my mammogram tonight (EEEWWW hate hate hate that). This is a doctor/therapy kind of week. Mammogram, gynecologist (quadruple EEEEWWWW), eye doctor, Yoda, and the new DBT Group Guy. Yikes. Maybe I should just crawl into a hole and hide. But then I will just postpone what needs to be done, so might as well power through it and get it over with. Sigh.

My friend I had lunch with who is around 10 years younger than I am told me today that she has fibromyalgia. Oh my. We were like a couple of old ladies gabbing about our symptoms and all the cures we've sought. It was kind of funny. But nice too to have someone who suffers with the same thing to talk to.
 
"tenacious care" def. looked up on google:
"caring in the face of sometimes constant provocation..." Richard Schwartz, Internal Family Systems Therapy, 1995, Guilford Press.
"a caring that demands continual guidance, commitment of the giver, stamina, and painstaking attention..." Houston, 2000 quoted in Frances K. Koochan, The Organizational and Human Dimensions of Successful Mentoring Programs and Relationships, 2002.

Perhaps my fears of being "too much" for Yoda are well-founded.

Also looked up "direct access" today. Very interesting. In IFS it is apparently like therapy for DID except therapist encourages the SELF to be involved too. Yep. This was what happened on Friday. I remember quite a lot of it, actually. Brilliant stuff. Need more of this. It made a LOT of space that allowed the breakthroughs that happened this weekend.

Tonight, gave husband stuff to read. I can't quite tell what the hell he thought. At first he was riveted. Then, a few minutes later when all was quiet while I was in the kitchen, I looked in and he was sound asleep. Too much, probably. He said I have a voice, and the pain is there and raw. Yikes. I am glad I didn't hand my journal to him. I just texted Yoda to say maybe he shouldn't read the journal because what I gave husband was much tamer/less raw than the journal. Didn't reveal the extent or intensity of the parts stuff, or any details.

Yoda told me "I will be fine" and to let my concerned part relax. I said, "Ha ha." Because, really? No F way. I AM concerned. I am toxic to people. Always have been, always will be. I don't know what I was thinking. I should not let people see this stuff.

I am going to bed now. I want to sleep. Please may I sleep. Freaked out inside at the mammogram today. Almost threw up before, and was semi-flashing during. "Marci" kept telling me how awesome I was and thanked me for being so polite and brave and funny. Ha ha. Sometimes I think I can never ever let the outside and the inside match. Sometimes I am convinced that life is just about powering through, and all this possibility of coherence and oneness and compassion are just a crock of shit.

But I know enough now to recognize that I am in some part or another. A really cynical and mistrustful one. YUCK. A protector. Why can't my protectors be all warm and fuzzy and comforting? I wonder if some people's are? Mine are all nasty and cruel and frightening. Either threatening or actually violent. No wonder I am hypervigilant all the time. I am terrified of my own parts. AAAGH> :banghead::banghead::banghead::arghh;:bag::mad::confused::hungover::nailbiting::nailbiting::nailbiting::wideeyed::dead:. Yes, and Yoda would say, "parts of you are terrified..." :tdown::sick::watching::arghh;:bag::x3: Yeah, I know. I know.

Okay time for bed. Or maybe I will finish my movie I started the other night. I need an escape tonight. And getting in bed to go to sleep is NEVER an escape. More like an invitation for flooding. Someday, someday, I will get better at managing all this. I can manage from the head just fine (i.e., power through), but not from the heart. Yet. Goodnight.
 
yay!!! Swiss cheese brain me just finally figured out how to upload pictures!!!! Um, duh, can you say copy & paste. Wow. So WTF is the little photo icon in the toolbar I'm looking at that has me jump through about 25 steps to upload media. GRRR. So here...for fun...one of the literary characters I'm feeling like today. Naive and hopeful and desperately in need of somebody kind to protect me. Here's the photo AND the video. Cool!
upload_2015-10-27_12-46-16.webp
upload_2015-10-27_12-46-16.webp


 
Slept most of day yesterday. Did NOTHING NADA on my very reasonable list. Finally got up at 4:30 AM after a nightmare I don't remember but I knew if I stayed in bed I would fall into the void. So I am sitting drinking coffee now...just finishing up some writing and posting on the forum and now will do one of the things on my list before getting ready for big day today. I will put away the enormous pile of clothing that has accumulated in my little room over the past few weeks so that I can stop walking over it and my dog will stop nesting in it. I have a little energy to move around and do this, and I think it will help me feel better. I will leave the chaos on the worktable and desk spaces for later. That would be too much for now.

I am increasingly convinced that there are problems with my thyroid at the root of some of my physical issues. I have made an appointment with my internist and am going to push him to send me for a full workup with an endocrinologist to resolve whether I am correct or not. I have been seeing this doctor for 25 years and have been a pretty low-maintenance patient. I am determined to take some control here and advocate for myself, because he has missed putting all the pieces of my physical symptoms together for all these years. I am not angry at him. I had PTSD/complex trauma and chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia long before these were even on doctors' radars. So for me, it was just "normal" functioning. Or non-optimal functioning. But now things are so bad and I know so much more (thank you internet). It is time for me to take some more control of my own healthcare, because nobody else can do it for me even though I wish there were some magical doctor out there who understood all of it. I think this is happening because I am becoming more aware of my own fragmentation, and that I am an extraordinarily poor reporter of my own symptoms, so how can I expect anybody but me to put the random pieces together.

So today, second intake appointment for the mindbody program. I meet with a NP and I will speak with her about this thyroid concern as well. I will find somebody who will get me to a specialist who can do the right tests on me. I will even pay out of my own pocket (well, my uncle's actually) if I can't get a doc to refer me so the insurance will pay. This is how certain I feel about this. And also perhaps why no meds have worked for me.

I acknowledge that I could be totally wrong, but I feel this urgency to find out asap. Because unlike PTSD or fibromyalgia, you CAN die from thyroid issues. And I have decided that I am not ready to die yet. I have a lot of things I want to do. And I would very much like to have the energy and physical strength to do them. So there.
 
Something is really wrong with me. Feeling nauseous and lightheaded and weak. Big (for me) public meltdown as I tried to get to the bank to get money for the train and had to park illegally. I told the policeman I didn't know what to do and started to cry. Me. Cry. In public. I never cry anywhere except one or twice in past year when trapped and overwhelmed. He took pity on me. Helped me walk to the bank and get back into my car. He was very kind. I am a wild wreck today...all over the place physically and mentally and emotionally. I do not get this. I am frightened of what is happening to me. I am going to talk to the nurse I see today about this. Maybe she can help me with what to do. All this is happening after taking an Ativan! I am safe on the train now. I missed the one I was to take, but they said the nurse will still see me today. God I wish someone could help me with all this chaos.
 
Okay so I made it to the intake appointment. I was really feeling pretty awful and allowed that to the nurse (who was really nice). She kept looking at me and asked whether she ought to get me to the ER or urgent care. I said no. She got the doc to come in. He said I'd be fine so long as my bp and heart rate were fine. They were. I was shivering after. She gave me a blanket and a cup of tea and told me to hang out until I felt better. I did. Then she introduced me to another nurse and they did vitals again. All good. Then sent me home and asked if I would call when I got there safely. I did.

I don't want to go to ER or urgent care because I know they will do nothing. And if they ask about my thoughts and I answer honestly, they will section me again. They don't get the difference between ideation and immanent action. Or the connection between these thoughts and feelings and my physical state.

I did ask her if there was any place I could go for a week that could really figure out what the hell is wrong with me, because different people keep telling me to do different things. And they all say I need to sleep and de-stress. Well duh. I do EVERYTHING I am supposed to do for both of these most of the time, but it still doesn't resolve anything. Takes a bit of edge off, that's all. Same with Ativan. Nothing seems to be working except the therapy and cranial sacral for helping me feel a bit more real and accept all the extreme stuff of my parts. But the physical stuff seems to be getting worse.

Am with daughter at emdr therapy now. Hope she gets some more release.

I suppose I will try to see my doc sooner rather than later. Maybe he will refer me to a thyroid person. I would also like to have a sleep study done. Because something is just so not right. I know this. I just don't know whether it is psychosomatic or organic.

:cry::shifty::hungover::dead::arghh;
 
Tonight, I asked my husband, "If you were me, what would you do?" He struggled to go there. But he says that it is time to make a really concise sheet of what has gone on for the past couple of years. He says that when I start going into detail, people tune out. And perhaps this is true with doctors. After he talks to our son on the phone this evening, he is going to help me make a list to take to my primary care doc. I really, really, really need somebody to help me put all these pieces together because I am just NOT RIGHT. And as much as some things are getting better, some things are not, or are getting worse.

It's like too many cooks are in the kitchen and they all seem to be pointing me in slightly different directions. Yes, stress reduction (but how?); Yes sleep (but how?); Yes slow down (but how much?); Yes get moving/exercise (but how much? and what kind?) etc. etc.

I feel awful. Spacey, lightheaded, weak, exhausted, frustrated, a little depressed and demoralized, wishful, hopeful, etc., etc. Just a big messy stone soup of stuff. I need a guru who is experienced medically and spiritually and psychologically. Because I am just not doing such a good job figuring out all this stuff.

My husband is deeply invested, but does not understand as much as he wishes; my therapist is deeply invested, but doesn't have the medical training (and MFP says he is not a specialist in trauma even though he deals a lot with trauma...and that I should keep seeing him because we have a good relationship...). My rheumatologist is a very kind man that I like, but he has only met me once. My primary care internist has known me for 25 years, but has missed putting all the pieces together and seems truly unable to connect the psychological with the physical. My psychiatrist is very smart, but is not my therapist (acting as psychopharmacologist) and I have to pay him astronomical amounts of money because my insurance doesn't cover him. And I am a little afraid of him and a little alienated from him, and have a hard time letting him know what is going on in the short time we have together. My massage and cranial-sacral person is wonderful, but has very little trauma training. The new people at the mindbody place don't really know me. The MD just suggests a consult with a massage person at another hospital, and the NP I saw today who seemed profoundly concerned about me, says I need to go see my internist.

Too many cooks in the kitchen. I need help sorting out the chicken from the egg. I KNOW now that I have a long history of developmental and complex trauma compounded over the years by other single-event traumas. What I don't know is how all my physical symptoms relate to this. Is it all because of trauma (e.g. somataform?) or is there really something physical going on?

I wish wish wish I could go somewhere for a week or even more and find a clued in doctor who could take in the big picture and advise me. Don't any of these people see the big picture? They don't seem to. WTF. I NEED people to ask me questions so that I can remember all the things that they ought to know. The more I go back into my history, the more I see all these issues that have come up again and again and again...and they have all been written off for various reasons.

It is not much different from my childhood traumas. Most of which, if you took them in single bits, might not seem like a big deal (except for a few). But when you thread them all together, they make for a profoundly bleak picture.

I need to find some specialist who can see the big picture. And tell me what, exactly, to do.

My life is falling apart around me. Not my relationships...my family (husband, kids, my uncle, and much of my husband's family are very supportive as best they can be). But I cannot work. I cannot do most household things. I cannot do any of the outdoor activities I used to enjoy. I cannot even walk my f*cking dog. All I want to do is sleep. I don't, most of the time. But that is all I want.

I know a whole bunch of people with fibromyalgia. But is that my major deal? Probably not. It is probably secondary to all the trauma crap. And dissociation etc. None of the people I know with fibro are dealing with anything at all in the psych realm. And I cannot find anything anywhere on the internet that answers my questions. And I am so bloody tired of looking.

Yes, tonight I am feeling very frustrated and demoralized. There HAS to be an answer to this. Really? Come on folks. And I cannot. CANNOT do it all by myself. As much as I try. As much as I want to. I have come to accept that I really, really, really need help here. But I can't find it. Crap.

Okay, going to make concise list with husband. He says he will come to internist with me. That might be a good thing. I need a plan. Because I am floating out in deep space and I want to come home.
 
So...after he talked with son, I did. Now it is 11:25 PM. Husband is asleep. Son had to get off phone because has a paper for his Islam class due tomorrow. But we had a GREAT conversation. He is questioning his calling to be a UU minister and I think I was able to diffuse the stress on that one. We talked about what his roles in our family are, and his sister's. We talked about all kinds of real stuff. My son is so cool. I miss him so much, but I am so very glad he is where he is and is going through his own struggles and growing times. And I can't wait for him to come home at Thanksgiving!

The list with my husband did not get made. It is late, and he is taking my daughter on a trip to visit a prep school tomorrow. They have to leave early early. List will probably not get made. Too much stuff with family going on. I am kind of on my own in this battle. I mean my husband is there and really supportive, but there are also so many other things going on. Oh. Well. There is only so much we can do in our lives. I more than most, understand that and appreciate limitations.

So...on with my quest to find someone who can help me sort all this shit out. Maybe I will have to ask Yoda if we can suspend the trauma stuff for a bit and if he can channel his social worker self vs his psychotherapist self. Because coordinating care is what social workers are trained to do, fundamentally, right? I mean, I did an internship as a social worker, so I should know.

This is all becoming a bit too much for me. But tonight, I am feeling more like my old self. Which now I know is probably NOT a good thing. Because I am in some part. Arrgh. But I'll accept it gratefully for now. Maybe I will sleep like I used to. Sigh.
 
Wow. Haven't written since Wednesday?! I could have sworn I did. It has been a roller-coaster of a month. Something is definitely odd/weird/wrong/shifting/something in my system. I would like to think it is just because I am finally really accepting that I have these parts. Like major parts. Like ones that hijack me all the time without me really knowing it. Not like I change like in the movies...not that. It is way more subtle. But yes, it happens. Increasingly. I got stuck in a few of them that took turns running my life for around 48 years. Now, finally, I am getting to know them. Which is good and will begin to help me heal.

But...then...I get scared that I really am making all this up (but how could I???). And that there is something physical wrong with me besides fibromyalgia. Because I have all sorts of additional new and intense physical stuff. I have had an on- and off- headache for at least a month now. My right side is hurting all the time and excruciating sometimes. I am more exhausted than ever. My vision is doing odd things. I am itchy all over (haven't had that for over a year). My left ear aches like crazy on the outside...not an earache. Hurts to touch. Then disappears.

So I get freaked that maybe it's my thyroid. Maybe my liver. Maybe some crazy yeast syndrome. There are so many things that can cause these symptoms. I am taking probiotics and vitamins now. Argh.

But...somehow I ended up taking my daughter out for her last trick-or-treating last night. Walked around the crazy Halloween neighborhood for at least an hour before I conked out. And I was fine. No pain. Then I came home and was wrecked. WTF.

Last night I had another one of those nightmare/flashback things. Apparently I was shaking and close to crying and making whimpering terrified noises. My body was rigid. I sort of remember it. I remember one part of the dream. I remember my husband trying to hold my hand and saying, "It's okay...breathe, breathe..." and I remember listening and gasping in great gulps of air. It wasn't enough through my nose. I had to open my mouth wide and take in the air. Eventually, my body calmed and I went back to sleep. But this morning, I felt like I'd been pummelled by some giant. Sadly, I am pretty sure this was a "real" flashback...a part showing me loud and clear one of the horrible things. Why can I just not accept that this shit really happened to me. Well, at least I have accepted the parts.

My stupid doctor still hasn't called me back. I am going to call tomorrow. I don't care if he thinks I am a hypochondriac. I have been low-maintence for 25 years. Now I really need help. I'm scared that there is something physical going on with me.

But then today I slept for 2 hours instead of going to see my mother. And I felt much better when I woke up and it lasted for like 2 hours. Now I'm back to where I was before. Maybe I just need to sleep for like a month. Seriously. Sometimes I think I ought to try that. Just stop pushing myself altogether.

Bleh. Oh, and lovely...now I am having flashbacks about my daughter's accident this summer. Did I write that somewhere? I don't even remember. God were they intense. One in my dining room on Thursday night, and one at the gas station on Friday morning. Now those are flashbacks I don't doubt. I was there. I remember exactly what happened. There is proof on my daughter's radiology results and in the paint on my car's back bumper. There were zillions of witnesses. So yes, that happened.

Maybe I am having those flashbacks so that somehow I can believe that the other ones were real.

I told Yoda on Friday that I had a "real" flashback and described what happened. His response: "And the others weren't real?" I let that one go, and so did he because I was a mess.

Saturday was good though, until night time. And today is okayish except the physical stuff. I have finally finished cleaning my studio and organizing some of my art stuff so perhaps I can continue with my sculptures now that I have some space. I wish I could do the same thing for my psyche. I told my yoga/massage therapist that I need a vacuum cleaner for my soul. A really heavy duty one that would clean up all the shit that is stuck inside of me and let my colors show.
 

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