Fall is fading into winter. I made it through another fall. There were moments this time that made me realize that I have some great people supporting me.
I think that when you have a turbulent past you lose faith in people. It’s easy to forget that there are good people in this world that think, loving and care about me even when I’m unable to do it for myself.
But then the triggering times are over and you can breath again. The paranoia is over, the air seems thinner and you just begin to feel good things again.
During this fall my system shifted. An alter that has been dormant for a long time came out again. It’s a catch 22, this part is very depressed and caused us to harm ourselves resulting in hospitalization. I’m just going slow, trying to work with this alter the best I can.
I go to yoga so I can just breath and help my body relax. I need to collect my thoughts that are scattered. It’s been a long time since I was in this space. But I’m actually okay and in the next step in this healing journey.
I’m trying to compile a list of things that I genuinely enjoy about the fall. Right now the list is pretty short. I’m trying to push past the sounds, numbers and memories.
My inner world goes into survival mode during the fall. The world sounds, looks and feels different. My skin feels unlike my own, I attempt to pull my life together. I try to reach out to my friends but I can only say weird things.
I lay in the grass and look at the sky. I wonder how that another human being decides to torture a person to the point where they splinter. I try to rationalize all my thoughts. I use DBT, radical acceptance, distraction – I use it all. I draw on my skills but I have reached a point of sadness.
I just continually try to forget the date and live my life normally. But I wake up in the middle of the night covered in vomit, waiting for the moment to pass. I breathe in and out, hoping the pain will pass and I can continue my day, just until the next moment hits.
I have so much to say but the words aren’t able to come out. I become overwhelmed by the moon. Alters are going into their places. I’m just waiting, holding my breath.
I’m using every and all skills that I can think of until the date passes. But I’m still afraid of losing more time, I write down my car mileage, I stay awake so there is no chance I can switch in my sleep.
I’m just counting, breathing, pacing, exercising, losing track of hour, days. I miss therapy because I can’t bear to even process the memories surfacing.
I’m running for hours so I can feel my body. The skin I wear feels unlike mine, alters attempt to remove it unsuccessfully.
I sit in my room in the dark just trying to figure out how to get past this part. This is so very different, I give every song on my pandora stations a thumbs down, and now I’m out of skips.
There are oh so many rules in this world. Some are laws that keep the general public safe. There are reasons behind some laws.
But sometimes there is not.
As I continue to work with my last unknown alter, I’m realizing how many rules govern my existence. I create rigidity in my own life because it’s all I have ever know. My abusers set up rules that were ingrained in both myself and my insiders. I become so fixated on rules, at times, I can’t function if something isn’t correct or the way I think it should be done.
But I’m so afraid. I’m afraid of life without rules. I crave rigidity created by my abusers. I wrestle with the idea of recreating abusive patterns in my current life.
My insiders are afraid to sleep. I sleep for three hours most of the time. The newest alter waits for something or someone. The hours just drag, leggo towers are built, my walls somehow become filled with crayon drawing of animals, 6am comes fast and my day just starts.
I get fixated on the amount of hours of sleep. Web-md says I need at least 6, my therapist says she’ll be happy with at least 4. I just can’t stop thinking about all these rules.
My new alter that has just emerged seems to be overwhelmed by both past and present rules.
The past rules are much louder than present. I write lists, set reminders, alarms so that everyone gets equal time. My day is so very scheduled by rules, I need routine. I crave structure, downtime is nerve racking. This new alter self-harms and I think I’m losing time. I don’t remember using all the skips on my pandora station, I have a very good memory.
The road has been so long. I feel as if I have been working through my past for so long. I walk up to my therapists office every week, at the same time knowing that I’m going to feel some uncomfortable feelings for the next 90 mins. Most times I leave, covered in my own vomit, hair a mess, and a headache.
The drive and the night is the worst. I try to put everything back in my head. I attempt to stop my alters from streaming memories. I wish there was a way to know how much longer I need to do this work. It’s draining, I’m just tired- mentally and physically. I persist- I make it through the next 7 days until it is time to go back to that office where my deepest memories emerge.
I reached a point in my recovery where I needed validation. There was something holding me back from true acceptance.
My little guys have a very hard time understands my abusers are dead. I have picture, obituaries but nothing really helped then understand. For some reason I felt compelled to find the place the house that most of my abuse encountered in. It wasn’t my best and brightest idea.
It wasn’t hard to find. The pictures in my mind are exactly correct. Perfect replicas are ingrained in my mind. But something surprised me when I went to see that place, it was the sounds around the area that caused me to break down. I dropped to my knees and just released pure emotion.
The sights of my past had become somewhat desensitized to me, I saw them for so long inside my head. However, looking at that terrible place made me really feel small and powerless. There was an unexplainable empty ness that filled my heart because at that moment my head and my heart connected.
There are moments that make this journey feel so amazing. Today wasn’t a great day, I had a emotion therapy session. I couldn’t get back at the end of session. I had to stay in my T’s waiting area. I don’t like doing that, it’s frustrating to not be as in control as I would like.
My newest and smallest alter didn’t want to go back because she didn’t want to be all alone on her side of my mind. My alters are almost on this side which is my life outside the cult. There is now one and only one alter on the side that wants to return to the group. This alter connecting even a small amount to the other side is a huge step because she’s the last one. The true last alter fighting against this life.
This alter is tough. She’s resistant and testing every ounce of patience I have but it’s nice to know that I have a small army on my side waiting patiently for her to decide to cross over. I know this could take some times, how much I’m not sure. But I guess I can finally say I’m in this for the long run. I’m almost to a different understanding of my self and it’s such a huge weight off my shoulders to actually see this new chapter.