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)
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Curation of annotations from blogs of Multiples like us, but different - unique and inspired ... Please use the links to find their original work.
Shaniya Davis was a 5 year old child that died a few years ago. Her mother sold her to a man for drugs. The man took her to a hotel in a nearby city, raped and murdered her. Then he dumped her body on the side of the road like an animal.
Although her murder was senseless, it was not in vain. It has stopped at least one child that would have been abused by this man!
How can we stop child abuse, child prostitution, and human trafficking?
DON'T STAY SILENT!
If you know of any abuse, don't let it go unreported. YOU may be a child's only voice! Their only way out of the hell they are living!
No one spoke up for me. Everyone swept it under a rug. No one reported anything. Don't allow it to happen to someone else!
Be a child's voice!
Be a child's advocate!
Don't let another child be abused because YOU are scared or YOU don't want to get involved!
Imagine the child's fear he/she lives with EVERYDAY!
Children of incest or long-term sexual abuse grow up to be wounded adults with complicated emotional issues. Unfortunately, some symptoms are misinterpreted or often dismissed as "crazy", only serving to maintain a tormented victim status. We, as a society, have the power to change this dynamic. Each of us can make a difference.
I do want to share that Raven (who knew all of the horror of my subconscious world and who had healed and existed with me) told me I could never fully heal as long as she were a part of me. It’s how my system had been built. After completely bringing down the system and healing all parts, full integration was not possible. Raven had found a way to bypass the way I had been “engineered”. She chose to take the form of a raven bird but wanted to leave my being at the “ancient canyon”. She said she would take all the darkness and “toxic waste” of my past with her but separate from that baggage so she would be free too. We would continue to be connected in an astral way. We are all stardust…along those lines.
How I experienced the release of the darkness and feeling her leave me were wonderful and emotional. It felt like freedom. I referred to that trip as my vision quest and believe that’s exactly what it was. I came home fully integrated and had what I call a shift in consciousness because that huge anxiety that followed me around like a cloud was gone. Not that I’m carefree…I’m reasonably cautious in my world as any person needs to be.
I was fascinated after my initial brain mapping session to see that my brain wave patterns were far from normal. Most were double where they should be and those that had one normal number had an abnormal secondary number. It explained my inability to focus. Surprisingly, as thorough as I am about relaxing every day, the map showed I was above where “normal calm” is for most people. We will focus on that first. Neurofeedback does for the brain what chiropractic does for the spine. It trains the mind to remain within a specific range by itself. It takes time to start to stay there on its own. I’m excited about it.
This will likely be my last entry for this blog but hope it stands to provide important information for others who realize they have DID and to provide hope for completely healing or at least have a fairly calm life at some point. Perhaps occasionally some important and relevant information will surface that I will post here.
It's been almost a year since my therapist began to change the dynamic of our work. For nearly five years she'd been answering my emails quite regularly. It is a lot to ask, much more than I ever would have expected from anyone before I came to know her. That connection brought more growth than I could have imagined was possible in a relatively short time. Because I didn't have to do it alone, I could handle much more of what was going on inside me as I walked the hard steps through my past. I needed to be there for my family - for my children. Without her near-constant presence,I believe hospitalization would have been necessary on more than one occasion - or I would have had to give up on the self-work completely.
So, I've been letting go of the email connection with my therapist. If I really need a response from her, I have to ask for it. While I still see her for weekly sessions, the in-between interaction very gradually diminished. It took eight months before I went an entire week without asking for any response. During that time, I wasn't able to work on much other than the growing up surrounding this difficult letting-go. I had to come to trust myself as I'd trusted her, and that was no easy matter.
When I wrote out my day's frustrations to my therapist and asked for a response, what I was really asking was, "Are you still there?" What I was really saying was, "Please don't leave." And all I really wanted to hear was, "I'm here." When the expected reply didn't come, it was like waking up in that dark room, alone, all over again.
We can't be there for anyone else a hundred percent of the time. It is just not humanly possible. But, as adults, we can learn to be there for ourselves. I can accept myself, love myself, and allow my feelings. All my feelings. Grief, even when it seems ridiculous. Anger that seems unwarranted. Hurt that seems completely over-the-top. And tears and more tears until I one day wash it all away.
I have been struggling with work for a variety of reasons. I think the big three are: 1) My new position is in the sea of massive organizational change, and I get excited by change but it also can freeze me up, plus, I did not actively choose the original change (I do choose it now, but there is a fine line there); 2) I have been the sole online editor all my career and now I am not and 3) I find some aspects of work really triggery and my industry is in chaos so a lot of people are stressed out, including me, and when I am stressed out I tend to make dumb little mistakes. Which in my industry everyone points to.
With all this in my head it is really hard to be a good editor. My judgment is peaky and my concentration is shot. I know I can get it back, but it feels wobbly.
So that’s the kind of thing I’m struggling with. I’m finding it a struggle because…I feel like I have done a lot of work to handle and deliver feedback, to do a complex job pretty well; I have a lot of expertise, which I have seen bear fruit, but I don’t know everything and never, ever will. But this kind of thing, where I feel like there’s unnecessary unkindness in how we all get to “really great product” is rough. And I feel a bit like a baby saying that, and yet…I realize I worked on a team for years where it was the reverse, where yes, we had those conversations but the starting place was “this isn’t great; why not?” as opposed to “this is terrible; you suck.”
As for work, it is crazy busy. Lots of change, excitement, instability, grand plans…I feel alternately on top of the world and on the bottom, which isn’t good long-term. I’ve learned quite a bit about my own neuroses, some of which seem to be getting worse as I get older. Sometimes I feel like I am uniquely screwed up, being a creative person who has to spend time on the job not being herself(ves), and sometimes I feel like the entire fucking world is incredibly screwed up about work. Ah, midlife. Someone give me a million dollars.
Lynn and Mikael seem sometimes (!) like the grownups (!!) in the bunch. I don’t know how that happened but they are in a period of calm before the storm I think. That includes Magadalynn. We’re all so very poly. Lynn really likes playing with Noah and Liam. Magdalynn made the pretzels (!). Lyria feeds everyone, although Dominic takes over when my parents are over. Lyr probably needs more hobby-time although right now we all often cede to the young’uns.
I lose my way and I feel the heavy load. I feel it when I take deep breaths, it’s somewhat indescribable unless you have experienced it. I’m not saying you need to experience traumatic abuse to understand, anyone who has ever felt like they were not good enough or were made to think they were weak. It’s the voice in the back of your mind, yelling at you saying “your a failure”.
Those words can break you down mentally and make you think that maybe you are weak when your not. The only thing that sometimes helps are positive affirmations. Verbally yelling back at those voices saying “I can”.
I’m working through a rather difficult exercise in therapy right now, but I can actually see the progress. A bit ago, my therapist asked me to draw the scene I saw on the day I found my sister’s body. It was harrowing. There, in black and white lines, was the memory that has been haunting me for all these years. My whole body was shaking, and I felt nauseous. I did a mandala to channel the feelings, which helped a bit.
The hardest part was colouring her. At first, the experience was oddly comforting. I was bringing life to the image of her corpse. Pink lips, peach skin, blonde hair, blue eyes. All the things that made her my beautiful sister. I felt like I was giving her back the life she took, healing her as best I could. Then, the image hit me. I was focusing directly on the image that lives in my nightmares and flashbacks. At that point, my whole body went cold, and I asked the therapist if perhaps we could stop for a bit. Every sense of emotion was gone.
I’ll start again with the drawing at some other time. For now, though, I’m going to let it be.
I have decided that, due to safety reasons, I will be stopping my posts on this blog.
I will be starting a secondary blog which I will keep posting in, but I will be keeping that one private. If you’d like to follow it please comment or email me however I may not feel comfortable allowing you access so please don’t be offended, it may just be that I don’t know you well enough or something like that.
The past couple days I’ve been feeling a bit overexposed. So, I decided to make most of my prior posts private.
I’ve always found it difficult to know what to share and what not to share with people. Mostly, in my “real life,” I choose not to share anything. On the rare occasions when I have chosen to share, I’ve tended to regret it. The information has either been used against me or held over me. Online, I tend to tell too much too often. Right now, I’m feeling overly exposed and vulnerable. I feel like I’ve lost control over who knows what because I’ve shared too much in posts, comments, tweets, pins and messages.
I could write another eight paragraphs describing those things for which I’m grateful. My relationship with God. My pets -past and present. The horses, ponies, donkey and mule. My grandmother. My therapist. My friends online. My health. My ability to enjoy my five senses. My ability to walk and to hold my nephew. My disability income and assistance. My bed. My truck with it’s near 200K miles and 9 lives. My country. The unique attributes of my hometown. I could on.
What’s interesting about this post is, when I began writing it, I was going to end it on a bitter and somewhat sarcastic note. I was feeling numb. Sad. Slightly depressed.
Instead, I think I ironically and accidentally found a way to enjoy being grateful! My focus shifted from enjoyment and pleasure, and/or the lack there of, to solely gratitude for just the positive in my life. Yes, there is negative. Yes, there is pain. But, I don’t have to incorporate that hurt into every single thought in my mind. I canchoose to think only positive thoughts. And so, even though I might not be able to feel happy or hopeful or make the hurt go away, I can think happy and hopeful thoughts. That feels kind of nice.
My husband called my brother in-law to find out what everyone is doing for the 4th of July. Apparently, they will all be at the home of one of my remaining brothers, the one I feel the closest to. But we have not been invited. I know why. I am, and in most respects always will be, just a little bit too different to be safe company for those who cannot shake off the fog of denial that cloaks the reality of our childhood and its unfortunate results. I'm trying to take this rejection as a positive. Not everything can be so black and white, but I can still bottom-line the thing and it goes like this -- the way I see things protects my own children and so I will not change it. Not for anything. I love them more than I love anyone else. For me, the 4th will truly be about independence. And that's okay.
for those of you just joining me on this site..I have DID. years ago I had the pleasure of working with one of the most amazing therapists. she knew nothing about DID but the two of us ended up cramming over 10 years of therapy on DID into the 2-3 years I was with her. we had no time to waste on bullshit so we went straight to doing research at the local library and communicating with all kinds of professionals that worked with DID. We developed a treatment plan specifically taylored to DID.
In the process of my research and trying to help myself I joined many mental health forums. I would go into detail about what my therapist and I were discovering /my problems/and how we were solving my dissociative Identity Disorder problems.Suddenly I start getting pms from people telling me to shut up, if I was smart I would start posting the same kinds of stuff that others were posting about DID. you know that obnoxious stuff you find in the movies and books but is not true, and to stop saying alters have their own emotions, their own behaviors, their own thoughts, their own heart rate, their own breathing rate, everything like that.
Instead of proving me wrong the DSM 5 goes into such detail about DID that it clearly proves what I have been saying for years and what professionals in the field of DID that I have had contact with over the years have been very turthful about DID, alters and how to best help me.
Sick of being used, being a doormat, a pleaser, having people leech on you at the expense of developing their own resources, skills or coming to terms with their own lives? Sick of people disabling themselves progressively to further and further own and control you, monopolize your attention and vampire your life? You can give them a copy of this 101 article on co-dependency and tell them you have woken up, are on the case, no life is shot and you don’t care about approval or popularity and that you are not doing this stuff with anyone anymore. Then thank them for their understanding and leave and go get on with your commitment to getting a life.
Everyone tells me that the past is over and I need to think happy thoughts and try to move on. But I wake at night dreaming of the things my father did to me. I go days where I can’t convince myself he’s not coming back for me. I spend weeks jumping at every sound thinking its the cops coming to tell me he hurt more of my family. And I spend every day of my life doing, saying and thinking things that are just like him. I am sick. I am incapable of love. I don’t know how to love someone, not even myself. I don’t love my family. I don’t love my friends. Because my father twisted my idea of love up so much that I have zero grasp of what love really is. I’m broken and I have tried so hard. SO FUCKING HARD to fix myself. I tried everything I could to fix all the shit that is broken and twisted in me. But somethings can’t be fixed. Some things can’t be undone. And so I continue to pretend to be holding myself together, even though I fall apart more and more every day.
I am lonely. Surrounded by so many who love me. I am alone. I am angry. I am bitter. I am tired. I am sad. I love, as best as I can. But I don’t think I’m capable of actually loving anyone, including myself. I am self absorbed. I am mean. I am rude. I am a liar. I am a cheater. I am a bad wife. I am a bad mother. I am fat. I am lazy. I am depressed. I am not worthy of anyones love. I am not worthy of life. I am a waste. I am a failure. I am broken. I am damaged. I am useless. I am worthless.
Welcome it, grasp it, touch the angel’s hand that brings it to you. Everything we call a trial, a sorrow, or a duty, believe me, that angel’s hand is there, the gift is there, and the wonder of an overshadowing presence. Our joys, too, be not content with them as joys. They, too, conceal diviner gifts.
Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty — beneath its covering — that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven.