Friday Reflection

Good news:  My coworker/mentor really liked the necklace.  And she was floored to find out I made it, which is a high compliment from her (she’s very chic and buys most of her clothes and jewelry from very high-end stores).

Bad news: I started my period.

Bad news: The cramps are really bad this time around (the cramps are debilitating about every 3rd or 4th period I’ve had since the miscarriage.  Probably not a good thing, but I hate doctors looking anywhere near my naughty bits.)

Good news: The coffee shop downstairs had ice cream.

Good news: And pickles

Good news: It’s Friday!

Good news: I’m done with work

Good news: My coworker gave me six free tickets to a comedy show for Sunday night

Bad news: I’m having trouble finding anyone to go with me…

Bad news: This period thing is gonna make my weekend suck…

And that is my current tally of pros and cons for the day. I’m trying to not feel down, as that is a lot of pros.

Jewelry making

For the first time in months, I’m getting back into jewelry making. We all thought it might be nice to make a birthday gift for our coworker who has been our mentor and support since we started at this company.

Well, actually a couple weeks after we started. We found her very intimidating at first, haha.

Below are some pictures of my work station and the rose necklace I ended up making.

I apologize for the low resolution- my tablet doesn’t handle groups of tiny objects well.

 

This one came out better

 

The Root of the Problem- Mistrust in therapists

The first time I saw a therapist it was under duress.

I was seventeen years old and a senior in high school.

I ate an average of maybe four times a week. Sometimes less. My grades slipped whole letters, going from the normal A’s to C’s and even a D (unheard of for me).

This all followed on the tail of Uniballer dumping me for Texas mere weeks before. Part of it was the stupid emo-teenage loss of a boy.
The other part was the loss of a best friend.
And even bigger: no one gave a shit. No one noticed me falling apart. Not my parents, my teachers, not even my other best friend, Germany.

It was Katherine who brought it to the attention of my mother. Mom took a mental step back and realized just how much weight I’d lost. She called my favorite teacher (the subject was German) and asked how I was doing.

It looked bad.

She tried to talk to my father about the idea of me talking to a professional. He balked, as he doesn’t “believe in psychology” and said I just needed to suck it up. In a rare moment, my mom put her foot down.

The therapist’s name was Joy. I rolled my eyes when she told me.  I didn’t want to talk at first.  The voices (I wasn’t aware of what the DID was at this point) told me not to trust anyone with feelings or secrets.

Slowly she got me to open up a bit. I told her about the betrayal of my ex and friends. Joy was the first person I confided in about my attraction to Katherine, which terrified me as I was so sure I was straight. Being seventeen, I still blindly thought love had to be firmly defined.

Then we got on an even bigger subject. My father. I went on about his emotional distance, his firm rules, his apathy. I talked about how he reminded me constantly that I had to move out and go to college.

Her response?
“This is all because he loves you. He loves you so much. I think you’re just having trouble seeing it.”

The internal whiplash was physically painful. The voices swirled and buzzed in anger.

I stopped seeing her pretty soon after that (I had turned eighteen, so it was my choice).

It was Katherine who got me to start eating more regularly.

And it was a long time before I tried to trust a therapist again.

Case of the Uglies

I’m feeling really awful today.

First of all, I’ve been feeling really fat and ugly lately. I suppose it’s the season and the whole Winter Blues thing.  It’s been leading to a bit of craziness.  I haven’t been eating much, though I’m trying not to let it get to dangerous levels. That’s been hard. I’ve also been a bit harsh with the beauty regime; using toner and cleanser and an expensive overnight cream.

Then Mom asked me to house-sit and watch my youngest brother for the next couple days. Tonight while he and I were watching a movie, he told me some nasty and hateful things his dad (my stepfather) said to him about me.  My brother is thirteen years old.  And I’ve always been polite and helpful to him.  I don’t think I deserve such underhanded and rude trash talking.

But maybe I do….

I’m trying really hard not to self-harm. I’ve been so good the past couple weeks.

But tonight is hard.

I don’t think I’m strong enough.

Hell of a drug – Elavil

Since I am mainly in the mental-health blog circle here on WordPress, with the occasional floating follower from somewhere else (that I also love!) I wanted to share my brief experience with the drug Elavil.

I was actually not prescribed it for merely mental-health reasons.  It was mostly prescribed because it has been showed to be effective for migraines and chronic pain treatment (both issues I have).  It is also used as an anti-depressant, depression being something I also struggle with (surprise, surprise).

My doctor was interested in trying it because it’s main side effect is acute drowsiness, and she knows I struggled badly with insomnia.
She gave me a prescription for a 75mg dose last week (30 pills with refills) and told me to wait until the holiday weekend to test it out. She knew my previous experience with pills that cause “drowsiness”. They knock me out like a freight train within 20 minutes.

I waited until Thursday night, after I had picked at both my father’s and mother’s Thanksgiving meals.  I took it at about 9pm, stayed surprisingly coherent until around midnight.

It didn’t exactly cause drowsiness after midnight…

I was practically narcoleptic for the next 24+ hours.

Poor Shadow Dragon and Puppy had to deal with me staggering to the kitchen for water a couple times, only to almost fall asleep standing up.  I then meandered back to my room, popped in a movie to “try and keep me awake” and promptly fell asleep.

Army is texting me regularly to try and let me know what he plans for us for our two-day weekend extravaganza.  I reply every four hours or so, causing him concern.  It probably didn’t help that my texted replies were vague, riddled with typos/autocorrects, and practically incomprehensible.  He finally asks if I’m drunk or something.  I manage to tell him about the new drug I’m trying (that I am never taking it again) but that I’m worried it will not wear off by Saturday morning when I’m supposed to drive to his place.

Army calmly reassures me that he’ll pick me up if I don’t feel comfortable driving.  I don’t reply that it isn’t that I’m worried about a bit of foggy mental abilities- but the ability to remain in an upright position.

Fortunately, the sleepiness wears off by 9:30am on Saturday morning.

Unfortunately, my muscles are even more sore, tight, and throbbing than usual.  Probably because when I’m this drug-induced semi-coma, I do not move except for the awful nightmares this Elavil-demon causes, which cause me to twitch spasmodically.

Here’s a chart to help you break down how awesome (not) this drug is.  It’s a pie chart because I’m hungry.  For pie.

Notice the supposed “drowsiness” and “anti-depressant” effects have been replaced with the real effects of “narcoleptic semi-coma” and “nightmare inducing”, respectively.

Now to daydream about pie.

Pen

Integration is basically a four letter word to me.  It terrifies, destroys, triggers, and corrupts my system.

However, over the past couple weeks, we’ve come to be more co-conscious than we’ve ever been.  It was probably a bit noticeable on this blog (especially in hindsight) with a lot of the recent entries being more generalized and categorized under “Multiple Alters”.

To mark this occasional, we decided I need a new name to be known as when we’re more co-conscious.  On the blog, that is.  Obviously in day to day life, I go by the body’s legal name, which is becoming a bit more comfortable to us lately (Army helps immensely with the sweet way he’s been saying it lately).

In a rare unanimous decision, we decided upon “Pen”.

It is not short for anything.  It comes out of the first part of this blog’s name, yes, but also because most of us enjoy some sort of hobby or activity with a pen- whether it be blogging, writing, composing music, doodling, or taking notes.

It’s been nice to have the co-consciousness.  I now know what some of my DID friends have been talking about.  It isn’t integration at all.  We’re all still here, still separate.  But there can be this beautiful unity.

It’s not entirely perfect yet- Victoria and Daria have yet to join in, and Rika does tend to keep herself slightly free/loose in order to observe the world more closely in her paranoid way.

But things are more balanced.

And the self-harm is at an all-time low.  Part of this is a pact we made with Army to be better about this and truly reach out for help if we need it.  But part of it is this unity.

I hope it can continue.

-Pen

In which I almost get fired

I had a dream Saturday that I got fired.

Last week we signed these new Federal Personal Information Privacy agreements that basically means that we cannot leave a single client file in our desk drawer any longer.  All files must be returned to the centralized locking cabinet by the end of the business day (or any time I am not present at my desk- i.e. a break).

It’s been frustrating as hell.

Oh, and did I mention that if we don’t adhere, we can get fired?

Back to Saturday night.  I dreamed that I got fired because I left a file in my drawer over the holiday weekend.

When I woke up Sunday, I realized that I had actually left a file in my drawer Wednesday.  Accidentally, of course.  I proceed to freak out- causing Army to try and calm me down and remind me that nothing can be done until Monday morning anyway.
(Sidenote: yes, we spent most of the weekend with Army.  Being that romance is not my area however, I will leave it someone else to update the blog with a post regarding that. It was a pleasant weekend besides the bad dream though.)

This morning rolls around and when Texas calls me on my way to work, asking me to swing by her place after, I joke that it may be earlier than my normal quitting time as I might be getting fired today.  I seem calm but inside I am screaming, crying, hating myself.  It takes a lot of strength between myself and Rika to not let Victoria or Daria take this self-hatred out physically.  But the recent pact with Army is still fresh for most of us (more on that in the future).

When I reach my office, I immediately check my desk drawer.  Perhaps I am incorrect in my memory and I really did properly restore the file to the central cabinet last Wednesday.  I am not a superstitious alter, but I cross my fingers anyway.

A file sits calmly on top; so obvious; so conniving; yelling for a supervisor to find it and terminate me.

I quickly open Microsoft Outlook on my computer and check my email.  No stern emails from my supervisor.  I scan my desk.  No post-its about seeing him.

I do a normal perusal of the department’s calendar and notice my Saving Grace.

“[Supervisor] attending Ohio Housing Conference all day”

I may be starting to lean a little more towards Roms’ theories of there being a “bigger picture” now.

I also quickly create a post-it with garish colors and big blocky letters: “CHECK”.  I tape it above my desk drawers.  I will notice it every day before I leave.

I will not be fired over being a scatterbrain.  I am better than that.

A Lesson in Feelings

This whole past weekend has been a lesson in how I really feeling about various things.

Let’s go by topic to keep things simple and readable for your lovely persons.

Housing
Well, the rental app didn’t get approve.  The letter of explanation they supposedly wrote and attached to our email was corrupted when we got it and now we can’t get them to give us a straight answer.  But this makes Mom and I just think there’s something fishy going on.  Whatever.  There will be other opportunities.  I was surprised at how easily I shrugged this off, though I suppose it’s because of other things I’ve had to worry about this weekend.

The Past
After the last post where Daria got triggered by Mom writing our childhood address, things got worse before they got better.  I volunteered Friday at an event near that horrible old house, and afterwards while driving back home, someone hijacked the body to drive past that place.
We were all startled to discover that the house was not torn down by McD’s.  It was right behind their dumpsters.  The backyard.  The tiny garage/shed with the slate blue paint.
Stupid Memory Lane.  I lost almost 2 hours that night.  I’m not sure if it was all spent just parked by that house, rocking back and forth in misery or if we went somewhere else.  I only remember a glimpse of the house, then I was back home letting Zoe outside, 2 hours after I’d left the event (only a 20 minute drive away).
I hope the dark thoughts are behind us.

Army
We almost broke up Saturday night.  Technically we did break up for about 40 minutes.
He was supposed to do something with me Saturday, and I didn’t hear from him until 8 or 9pm.  When I asked for an explanation, it was that he was “sleeping”.  Then he asked “Are you mad?”.
Hell yes, I was mad.  I told him too.  And I explained that he needed to see it from my perspective.  This is the third time he’d flaked on me in two weeks.  I didn’t feel important at all.  Then he made some vague sort of promise to “make it up to me”.
I told him I wasn’t sure if I could do it anymore.  Be with him if he was just going to be all flakey and make vague promises.  To which he replied “I’ll just leave you alone then”.
I was floored.
And what surprised me more was my utter sadness over the whole thing.  I literally sobbed for a good half hour, trying to talk to Texas about the matter.
I didn’t realize that I was in that deep.  I’ve never cared before.  When we parted ways a couple months ago, I didn’t bat an eyelash.
What’s different now?
Anyway, he texted me back about 40 minutes later and asked that I explain further because he thought our relationship was too important to just forget about.  I poured my heart out- well, sort of.  I always hold back a bit. Especially lately.  He then said he really didn’t want to lose me and that he cared too much about me.  And then Sunday, he took me out for lunch, ice cream, on a walk, and to the dog park with Zoe.  It was great.  We talked and it was…amazing.  I’m terrified about this whole thing.  I’m not sure if I can put myself on the line like that again.  I haven’t even tried since Katherine.  I don’t know…

Germany
She emailed me again.  It was a hurtful email.  I can’t even get into here because I’ll just start crying again.  Basically, she doesn’t want to be friends if I can’t admit that I’m a “manipulative, compulsive liar” and seek therapy for it.  I was nothing but honest about the situation with Jeff.  I didn’t paint a pretty picture with me as some hurting damsel.  I stated plainly that he was the wronged party and I regretted it.  But she said because I spoke so “flat-toned and simply” that I must be looking for “validation” about being the wronged party.  I don’t understand.  My heart hurts over this whole matter.  This is my best friend for over a decade.  She’s always been there for me.  Always.
Why this?  Why does she have such blinders when it comes to Jeff?  I’m not asking for her to “take my side”.  I don’t want that at all.  I don’t want sides.  I’ve said that from the beginning.  I don’t even want to talk about the situation at all.
I just want to be able to talk to my friend.
I am heartbroken.

A shudder and a whisper

why did she show us the paper she filled out?

why did we zoom in on a previous address she put down. the third one down. has Mother only lived in 2 places since that place?

we never knew the name of the street it all started on.

hide and seek. hide and seek.

oak grove lane.

a tree? but trees are safe. i like trees. i like to climb them and hide. He doesn’t climb.
i learned that fast.

why why why why did it have to be a safe name for that street?  that street wasn’t safe.  it should have been…
highway to hell road
full of demons drive
childhood lost forever avenue

i didn’t wanna know.  none of us wanted to know.  it needs to be erased.

at least it’s now a mcdonald’s.  the house doesn’t exist.

but the house was never the badpart.

hide and seek is an outside game.

outside.

with trees.

New House!

I went and looked at the possible rental I will be moving into.

I think I’m in love.

It has gorgeous hardwood floors, a decent sized backyard (that Zoe will love!), a big front porch and a deck in the back.  There is a pretty kitchen (not huge, but not too tiny) with pretty mock-granite counter tops and new appliances. It has two bedrooms on the main floor, a huge basement (Grey called dibs on- ahh, teenage boys), and a large upstairs that is all one big room, with it’s own second bathroom.

And Mom has said the upstairs is all mine.

I’m trying not to just start imagining what I’m going to do with it, but it’s hard.  I want to just start doodling and looking up cheap and crafty decorating ideas.

I’m so excited.

Please cross your fingers for you me!!