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.