chalk up another lesson and another reminder that sometimes 'being strong' isn't always the best thing to do for yourself.
the last week has brought up another crop of bullshit messages and the last 24 hours made them really hit home.
i should always do the right thing
i should never lose my cool
i should be able to brush off personal attacks
i should always be strong
i should be able to protect my system, after all, they've been protecting me my whole life
i should forgive easily
i shouldn't ever let hurt show
i should've done this different or should've done that.
obviously somewhere in there is the message that i/we should be more than human
so to borrow my favorite phrase from dr. c: we need to stop shoulding all over ourself. all it does is put you neck deep in should.
we had our minor meltdown last night. though, we need to just unload without worrying if it's too much. we're holding in too much right now.(my fault) trying to keep it in (that is MY biggest weakness) or only letting a little show just doesn't do the job and if it means having a messy, wet, slobbery sob and actually letting another human offer comfort, then so be it.
when the wall came down (long story for another entry) and the girls started talking ('call me a demon one more time and i'll rip your dick off and feed it to you! the name's stephanie you asshole.' said to our former pastor) things were totally out of control. stephanie was a ticking bomb, reese was totally suicidal and the younger ones were so terrified that no one could touch us in any way.
for a long time i saw the girls as my enemy because with their being recognized and acknowledged came years of emotions i'd never allowed myself to feel and things got completely unreal. stephanie and reese are the only ones i've ever been co-conscious with. at least for any length of time. (in a nutshell that means having shared information or experiences.) from 13-16 we literally just shifted in and out and though i knew their names, after the first real hospital experience, never bothered to try getting anyone to listen. but they would take over control and i'd know what was going on. there's no way to explain the horrible feeling of helplessness when you are watching yourself do things you would never imagine doing. taking out a blade in a counseling session and slicing across my left arm was terrifying. we've never cut in someone's presence and that cut took a hell of a lot of stitches to close. it was like that for almost 18 months. this was not a fun time.
i don't fully remember anything that happens when another is out. most of the time it's like dreaming and when i'm out again, the events fade the way dreams do when you wake up. the only way to hold onto the memory of events is to talk to someone who was there and have them fill in the details.
it took a full year to even accept that the DID was real. we'd been programmed so long to believe that every word we spoke was a lie, that to admit that there were 'others' inside would have been like asking people to call me a liar. as recently as a year ago i would still ask dr. c every few months, am i really DID? the fear that one day i'll wake up and everyone i now trust will turn and accuse me of having been so talented a liar that i even convinced myself, still sneaks up on me in the night and rips at my heart.
trying to pretend the last couple of days didn't hurt was stupid. it did hurt. it hit a very painful bunch of old wounds and secret fears. on top of the mess with the in-laws and trying not to lock up the hurt that it brought up was just too much.