Current and archived curated/annotated News in Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), or Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) as collected daily from Google Search utilizing Diigo and by visiting blogs of other people who are also multiples.
--- by Ann M Garvey --- Anns are dissociative and believe being dissociative is something that should be treated respectfully.
Mind Mapping - the NEWS (slowly - work in process)
Friday, September 28, 2012
*** 9-8-12 to 9-21-12 News Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) - Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) - Items marked in red meet Ann's criteria for being on the Ignorant List (none though with this direct post!!!)
Sorry for the delays in getting caught-up. We were on vacation for ten days and still seem to be behind at this point by about 45 blogs. We figured we'd get the ones back-posted from one week ago which gets us caught up to about September 21, 2012 ... We're trying! Also, we wanted to write a note on the Diigo portion that collected the annotated quotes. It seems that it has a mind of its own and that sometimes it goes back into older annotations and adds them within the current, and sometimes it doesn't collect all the quotes we highlighted - so it's a bit of a mystery to how things fall together. We highlight the quotes, but from then on we're as surprised with what is curated as the next guy. It makes it more fun though to read! Always our best, Anns
we went to anger management this morning. next week starts the new quarter we are doing creative writing, anger management and road to recovery we will have a 2 hour break i think between anger management and road to recovery at least i think so it will be fun to take creative writing maybe i hope so anyway it starts at 9 tho so we have to get up earlier and go in morning business traffic we have our last anxiety group today they arent doing anxiety group next quarter i think that is sad we had a nice small group for that class about 5 people but i think that is why they are closing it since there wasn’t that many people in it i wonder if a lot of people will take creative writing
I am Rose, I am 20. I am an insider of Jess. I have been conversing with her a little bit lately. I told her of her newly known insiders, all of which are SRA. I felt she had the right to know. I don’t know if I am right or wrong, but I told her anyway. There are a lot of children and some teenagers. None over the age of 13. Many of these children are still stuck in the memories, or they have guilt about the memories. I think that telling Jess about this has led her to think about healing. It is true that we have worked some with memories of SRA with Cathy. These memories, Adrian and Amber, were hard to talk about and have not been fully process. We still have flashbacks of Adrian and Amber as well as nightmares. It will take a lot to help these kids processed their memories. I do not know if Cathy is up to the challenge. I do not know if we are up to the challenge. I suppose the only way to know for sure is to give it our best try. And hope that Cathy will do the same.
I would like to talk to you today about The Chia Seed. Yup, that's right. The very same Chia used for Chia Pets.
Ready at a moments notice Wanting to act, wanting to answer
A result of vilification Because you didn't care You evoked this temptation
I get up and walk into my living room and turn off the TV - I don't even like the Flintstones anyway - and walk back into my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I sit back down at my computer and decide that it's time I make a change; tomorrow I will wear green instead of pink. There's the randomness again. Back on track. Change. I will make a change. I am not happy now and the only way to fix that is to change. I cannot change the things around me so I will have to learn how to change myself and adapt to the things around me. "Easier said than done," says the little voice, "it'll be a long hard road but it must be done." Good, then we're agreed. With new-found resolve I surrender. I am metaphorically waving the little white flag. Whatever happens... happens. No matter what I think, how much I think, or what I do... how things are meant to be is how they'll turn out; no amount of my ruminating on a subject will change the outcome.
It had been 5 months coming. Ah, but she knew. Somewhere in her heart she had always known. She often second-guessed herself, and that meant second-guessing her gut instincts as well. Something she swore she wouldn't ever question again. If I had just trusted myself... trusted my feelings, she thought, none of this would have happened... and it would have been over a long time ago. She realized that she was staring at nothing in particular and her eyes now felt grainy and dry. She blinked and a single tear fell onto her jeans, making a dark blue spot that she began to stare at.
We deserve to give only the best to ourselves. And that includes not allowing ourselves to be subjected to unfair words or accusations. I am standing strong. I will not let these words haunt my waking thoughts. I have given away my power too much to let people take my power away anymore. People can say whatever they like about me, that’s their choice. But I have choices too. I can protect myself from these words. I can turn away from the accusations and unkind words. I will not engage. I am my own person, I am strong, and I am better than to lower myself to the gossip that is going on about me.
When I say traveling, I mean we will be staying in one place, but that place is very far from home. A six hour plane ride to be exact.
My therapist is under the impression that the trauma is wanting to reveal itself. That that is the reason behind all the unexplained uncomfortable body sensation, the panic, the anger pushing up, etc that I’ve been experiencing very strongly in the last month or so.
I think I’m having a day where I’m just feeling a huge sense of loss for all the people I have lost in the last few years, and it feels like quite a few. Several of those being people I could, at one time, call my closest friends. How is it that one’s closest friends can just up and leave. Fade. Vanish. Walk away and never look back. I don’t understand.
Probably one of the things I hate most about myself is my dissociation. I know that it is a coping technique – one that probably saved my life- I know that it got me through the worst periods and events of my life, I know it’s the reason I’m able to function now… Regardless, I hate it.
I hate it because I cannot remember most of my life, only bits and pieces. I hate it because I cannot consistently feel connected to people, places, events, and things. I hate it because I feel mostly disconnected from myself. I hate it because I don’t know what I’m feeling most of the time, and when I do know what I’m feeling, I often don’t know why. I hate it because it makes me feel out of control. I hate it because it makes me feel so alone.
I got angry and switchy last night and couldn’t stay in the house. One of the alters I haven’t seen in a while (The Drill Sergeant) came out and started berating me for the fact that I’ve let myself get to this point physically, a little over a hundred pounds heavier than my “best” weight while I was Active Duty.
Today sucked. To be honest, tonight was ok, but really the aftermath of it is sucking pretty hard.
I’m getting tired of doing everything for everyone and just having it fucking blow up on me the minute I do something for myself.
Ok, it had been some time since we last had a full triggered, curl up in a ball and just freaking melt down into uncontrollable sobbing. Today apparently was the day for me to return to such a feeling…I haven’t missed it.
The words “You’re different, mommy,” were uttered this morning by my older son (age 5) at the bus stop. He was right. I was different this morning.
It was the first time someone has recognized an alter state like that, and to have it be my five year old was just scary to the system. It freaked everyone out because they’re not used to being noticed and wondered just how much those little eyes are seeing in me, just how much he knows in watching me.
The exchange knocked me back to baseline again and I’ve been fine since, being able to smile, wave bye, and see him smiling back at me before he went away on the bus.
I'm so glad its a holiday tomorrow, I can relax and get myself better for Tuesday.
i hate literally everything about my body. for some reason i want to kill the butterfly just to satisfy my need to feel. i feel fat and i dont understand why i keep gaining weight so quickly. im losing control and im trying not to eat so that i dont gain but i keep doing it.
UGH I wish I could explain how I feel right now.
She would like to put me on a med for nightmares. I never knew there were such a thing to help that. I was pretty excited. I am willing to try anything at this point.
I want to validate all the readers who comment here in Emerging from Broken. There is nothing wrong with talking about the pain of child abuse and neglect. There is nothing wrong with healing and becoming empowered by exposing how we lost our power and choice in our lives. We have everything to gain by doing this!
Abuse is a word that carries a whole lot of baggage.
I was reading one of my own quotes today about my willingness to share the blame in the past and thought that it deserved to be expanded upon because it is a popular subject here on Emerging from Broken.
I remember the first time that I actually realized that my mother was abusive. I had been at a seminar about the misuse of power and control in relationships and I was exhausted from all the information that I was trying to comprehend.
So the theme I ended up pinning down is “30 Days of Stuff That Use to Really Cheer Me Up”.
I don’t really want to talk about what’s going on with us at the moment, so I decided to do another walk down memory lane with pictures! Enjoy _________________________________
Hopefully they’ll be able to complete the list and then I can begin!
The post earlier about Red Dwarf made me realize that when I focused on something that used to make me happy and instantly elevate my mood, it lifted my mood a bit. So I’m going to tailor this idea into something to make my September productive with this depression, insomnia, eating disorder, switching craziness, and general crummy feeling.
“Things…changed. I…broke up recently with someone. I lost my job. And my house is being foreclosed on. It’s been hard.” She sighed and drew her knees up to her chest. “And now I can’t sleep.”
Recently, I’ve been reading about how most persons with DID/MPD are either non-sexual or polygamists. Obviously, this isn’t true. I know this isn’t true. This is a narrow-minded pop culture viewpoint.
Oh the things I would do if I were running this joint. If I were in charge.
“Sometimes you have to lie. But to yourself you must always tell the truth.” -Ole Golly in “Harriet the Spy” by Louise Fitzhugh
And when I glanced down towards his feet I saw that above his black shiny professional loafers, he wore bright purple socks.
I wish I could have talked, it might have made me feel better.
this is tara. i am one of the insiders who goes to school. its me, zara and emily. school is really taxing on us lately. its very stressful but we’re managing it. i like it. i find learning fun and interesting. but wednesday we have a half day and i like that we do. it gives us a breather
it would be nice to have one of our siblings living with us though. i’d like that, we all would. i am so scared. and so sad. it hurts, why is my mom a psycho crazy bitch? why?
I am having a hard time lately. I’ve had a few days where I’ve been out more than I had been, that is good I guess. It is hard but I am glad about it
In my herculean effort to get out more, I recently combed online community calendars for local shin-digs and hootenannies. To my dismay, there exists a multitude of interesting -and free- events, fairs and festivals. I created my own Fall 2012 calendar of events. Now, there’s nothing left to do but… go.
I asked my dad to go with me. Not because I was unable to go by myself, but because I thought he might like it. (He needs to visit the Land of Living and Doing more often too.) My dad and I are both history buffs, and my hometown was once the site of an archeological dig that found the remains of people living 7,000 years ago.
My husband wants to invite my mother up for the holidays, either Thanksgiving or Christmas. She is now a widow which means the holidays will be difficult this year for all of us. I thought my father’s death would erase some of the hostile thoughts towards my mother and me, but I don’t know if they have or not.
Talk to me. Tell me why I am here. Why do I come here once a week? Tell me why I am there.
I just had one prevailing thought at times as to the questions he would pose to me – my thought -“You are the professional, don’t expect me to know the fucking answer to your inane questions!”. I’m still very capable of becoming extremely agitated at ridicules questions.
I don’t feel apart of the world you live in. You ask questions about people who live in your world. I don’t want to live in your world. Ask me to leave.
“People with mental disorders are often found to be difficult to deal with; they are ineffective in social situations, become rejected and isolated, and feel anxious or otherwise uncomfortable in these situations”
I have been given perhaps another choice that may erase this current episode of break through D.I.D. and PTSD in the way of medication. Although not a permanent fix, it will allow my husband to get on with his life easier and to have a more peaceful environment here at home after the deaths of two family members and counting. I’ve become mostly a non-participating member in my mental/psych care which is unfair to other people who need the time to see Enemy.
"So, until my wrist is somewhat better I won’t be writing much here. Unless I get so desperate I type painstakingly slowly with one hand. It also means therapy homework is hard because writing hurts. Did I mention I hurt my right wrist and that I’m right handed?!"
I don't get much time to write posts these days. I am currently finishing up my MSW in clinical social work. I have one more semester left after this one (woo-hoo!). Anyway, I am currently doing an internship 3 days a week, and when I am not in internship, I am in class. On top of that, I have a husband of 17 years and four daughters ages 9, 12, 14, and 16, so life is so busy these days.
That being said, I have been thinking for awhile about a short post I would like to do. I have been thinking of creating a list of things that have been most helpful to my healing as I have been on this journey. I have a bit of time today, so here goes.
They are just listed as they come to mind, except for maybe the first one because without that, I would not be where I am today.
Can I think of 20????
20) Writing this blog and educating people about trauma. :)
I find it sadly interesting how at work, people believe my life has been touched by the wand of goodness and light.
Because I don't talk about my past, they assume there isn't one. They call me "princess" and "privileged" because during my marriage, my ex made a lot of money and I came out of my divorce
Once again I've been missing some time - not big bunches of time, more like 30 minutes here, 15 minutes there. Or just forgetting who I am for a few minutes. Once it began, my consciousness whirled around me like a strobe light. It lasted about 2 weeks, but left me scared and leery of every day.
This always starts when I get overwhelmed with life. My family. My mother.
I haven't been around much lately and now that I'm not working long hours anymore, I'm going to be her more. I hope you all are getting thru the day with strength and tenacity.
There is a natural cognitive process that occurs in the brain, in which humans convey many different types of attitudes. This process begins with a mental predisposition of thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. Based on these evaluations, whether favorable or not, choices are assessed and then made. The final part of this process subsequently involves setting goals and acting upon aspirations, which is how attitude manifests itself in the decisions we make on a daily basis. Theoretically, attitude and its cognitive processes can be altered naturally by an adjustment in specific brain chemicals.
I’ve never really don’t understand poetry. I don’t understand the hidden meanings, and I get lost very quickly. But, as I was reading the following poem about hope by Emily Dickinson, the tears came. I could easily see the bird as a metaphor for hope…
I’ve often joked about the figurative neon sign above my head that reads “Go away!”… But, those jokes cover a variety of issues that I experience – an inability to trust, be vulnerable, and basically experience any emotion without dissociating.
Sunday was Fathers Day in New Zealand. As the day was approaching, a friend asked me how I reacted to the day – whether it needed to be something on my radar of potentially rough, or triggering days. My response was a rather confident and nonchalant…
I do things which I consider to open the door to communication, but also look for any hint that the person isn’t genuine, interested, or able to reciprocate in any way. Depending on the level of involvement that I am expecting to have with the person, I then decide how much energy, and risk I’m willing to take.
This is the question that I’ve been asking myself… I wonder about it because if I’m more aware, then that indicates a level of healing that is positive in the long-term… But, if this year was bad purely because I approached it in a different way, then that could indicate that I’m back-sliding by “looking for triggers”. Either option is possible, but the latter seems more likely.
I could do with some hope…
I’d look at food, and it would morph into something unpalatable and impossible to eat… or, just the thought of food would make me have a panic attack. Often there would be no context for these previous issues with food, and they seemed like random occurrences. I could attribute some of them to stress, but not all of them… Now, things are different, it’s like I’m living in that space all the time.
How dare I be so bold as to ask such a question? How dare I think that I deserved an answer? How dare I even exist!
Haven’t I learned anything by now… the only solution, is to be invisible!!
This was me going beyond my comfort zone, or working on the edge. It was uncomfortable and destabilising. What was interesting, was my reaction to being in that place…
I realise that this was me challenging different aspects of my reactions… I would usually remain silent, rather than ask a question; and I would do almost anything to avoid a confrontation. But this time, I acted differently. I wasn’t aware of doing it consciously, practising what I would say, or any of those other things that are often talked about when “working beyond your comfort zone”… Instead, it felt like I was driven to pose the question.
Another friend once told me about looking for the windows of opportunity in a situation… the windows where there is the possibility for you to choose a different option, or way forward.
That’s a really positive challenge to those old beliefs. I know it will take more incidents similar to this before I really believe that the punishing consequences won’t suddenly happen again… but, that’s about learning by experience.
If I had to choose between having a physical problem with great parents (as it sounds like he had) and a strong body with abusive parents, I think I would take the former.
A young man who I’ve known since he was in elementary school just made this award-winning movie …
The pre-verbal time is very powerful, and forms a good part of your subconscious thoughts and reactions.
He might have felt that he had to do this to survive. Maybe he felt as if he had to do this to function. But how will he ever heal without helping that terrified, grieving man who’s still living inside him?
The 8 yr old holds all the pieces... and today she holds a 6 yr old part I've come to know as the Rag Doll. An image has been in my mind--one that comes from the 8 yr old. She drew it first in my journal, two days ago, and then again today in conte crayon. I've reworked it in photoshop... from my adult self. In reworking her drawing, I get new insights.
"I rang her recently whilst in the middle of a 'crisis' for support and she talked to me on the phone for ages. She was so supportive. I can't remember most of anything that I said to her: I was having a meltdown due to being in a very difficult situation with a lot of triggers. I remember that she talked me through how I was feeling and reassured me that it wasn't going to last forever. She said that it was a good thing that I was feeling emotions and she understood that it was so difficult because I've not had much experience of really 'feeling' emotions before."
I'm still enjoying having T back: my old psychologist who was off for just over half a year. She has been so supportive and understanding since she returned. Well, she always was but the contrast between the way I felt with her stand in (New Psychologist) and T's style has just made me so much more aware of and grateful for T's ways. I feel like I am properly starting to trust her on a new level. It may still be fragile but it's more real now. It's like her time away and return has strengthened our relationship somehow.
Some of the time she didn't say anything and I didn't say anything. She just sat with me on the other end of the line while I 'felt' and while I dealt with how I was feeling and started to calm down.
My husband just called me on the phone and asked about therapy.
I find myself in the position of being unable to help myself. It’s strange because usually I would struggle against the idea of being helpless and yet I can’t find the spirit to struggle against this.
I haven’t been mentally right all day and a few seconds ago I was hit with a sudden, deep sadness that put me on the verge of tears. I’m slightly overwhemed and don’t know why I’m being hit with this now. I’m trying to breath…trying to either not cry…or just give in, but they won’t come either way. Just that teary tightness and anxiety.
I just got so angry that he thought he knew me.
I’m still super mad and I just needed to vent.
But I’m almost obsessed with this image I have of myself turning into bones and it’s not to be seen by anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me or ask questions about me or anything like that. It’s almost for…myself? Maybe I want to look the way I feel inside? That is of course, when I feel anything at all, which is less and less these days. I told my therapist that I don’t really feel emotions unless I have/ or are going to therapy that day. Then it seems that for a little while afterwards, my emotions get turned on. At least the sad, depressing ones.
Just published a short book of poems on Amazon about living with Dissociative Identity Disorder called Alter boy and other dissociative poems. Hoping it goes down OK. Only available on kindle and devices with kindle apps at moment.
Not going to be a good night tonight. So I think I’ll be back on later for a rant……..