A journal to help me talk about DID and my life. I'm Dee, among others. Hi. If this helps you, by all means, welcome, but I'm just trying to sort things out.
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“I was using that.”
“We shall see if you have used it well.”
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3/15
Last night, I asked my friend who is pretty sensitive to my switching to alert me when I switched. I had 2 drinks and smoked, because he said I'm more obvious when I'm a little tipsy. I didn't expect him to interrupt me every couple of minutes to point out a switch. So I'm rolodexing. Fabulous. No wonder I feel so wiped and hollow and horrible. At least I got my meds refilled today, fuck you very much, gp who likes to drag his feet.
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3/9
My partner may be going to inpatient care soon. He has PTSD-dissociative. He told me he terrorized his family today and doesn't remember it. His wife called and asked me to get over ASAP. He is in rough shape right now, and he is going to the doctor in the morning. I feel helpless, but I want to stress how important being there for each other is. He relaxed and discharged a lot of stress by talking, and I'm leaving my phone on if they need me. And they would do the same for me. It's what you do.
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Conversation
Them: you shouldn't be learning about it, or telling anyone about it!! multiple personalities??? you shouldn't be glorifying it!!
Me: [who constantly deals with the negative stigma against mental illness, struggles daily with insomnia, nightmares, flashbacks, amnesia, fear, isolation, who tries to seek out happiness and friendship and community in any way I know how] .....why not?
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Alters
Does anyone else have an alter who shows up during sex? My partner just realized I do. I'm trying to wrap my head around it, because she is a kinky, sensual, hedonistic one, and I am easily embarrassed and pretty awkward. I like her. She has fun. But she apparently looks at my partner like they are a snack, and she had him almost tapping out the other day.
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Angst
So, I'm in a poly situation. I adore and honor my husband, who does not want to have sex, and I have a dear friend who does. We've been together for a couple of years. Hubs and I just celebrated 11 together. The physical connection I have with my friend is fantastic, and the friendship is a rare one. Neither of us want more than the other wants to give, and we are all harmonious and satisfied. It's the one part of my life I am really good with. And they're moving across country in 6 months. I had a minor abandonment breakdown last night after an incredible tumble. I don't know how to move forward when the time comes, and I'm realizing that love is weirder than I thought possible. I've had nightmares since they told me, and I don't know how to be the good friend when I'm fearing the loss.
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Trying to function
I actually gave a talk this weekend. A historical preservation group invited me to South Louisiana to talk about healing traditions, plant medicine, and medical marijuana and its related products. Discussing weed with little old ladies who eagerly wanna know about it is hilarious. But the crowd was diverse. I talked about how I got into Ethnomedicine, how my research satisfied me for the efficacy of traditional herbal cures, and how I now study entheogens sociologically. The highlight of the talk was the q and a, where a bunch of 60+ year old women talk about the best spot to buy cbd oil for their arthritis and one of them commenting that it smells like grass clippings, which made everyone laugh. Before the talk, I threw up for three days. After the talk, I crashed and slept for several hours. It's not something I can do with any regularity, but it was nice to be who I used to be for a minute. Interestingly, I felt a switch happen somewhere at the beginning third of the talk, and it got a lot better after that. Thanks, weird talking but helpful alter.
#dissociative identity disorder#dissociation#public speaking#Medical marijuana#cbd oil#Hilarious old women
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Reading lists
So, I’m pretty brutal to myself once I begin trying to do something objectively. I’ve reflected on my life through the lens of DID and accepted that I dissociate and lose time. I’ve figured out that there are a couple of categories of alters, and I’m trying to be okay with that. But let’s look at the fiddly bits, like simple daily things. I am finding some habits and quirks are rooted in DID, down to my guilty pleasure reading. Why else would I love reading 00q with a heavy dose of whump and h/c? Eh, who cares? Currently reading The Oldest Dance by Veriante
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For those about to nerd out
Okay so I am about to nerd the eff out. I am going to try to watch a movie in my vr.... thingy. What would you suggest after my first one is over?
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Emergence delirium, or how doctors fail us
12/2003 was when I had surgery on my legs. The operation was supposed to take two hours and went over eight. It was done in an educational operating theater because it was an unusual surgery and I was okay with students watching. I woke up with a violent case of emergence delirium that left my scrub tech unconscious and anesthesiologist with a fat lip. I, a drugged, sick woman who had just had an 8 hour "radically invasive" surgery and who wasn't even fully released from restraints, mopped the floor with two big men, ripped apart my bandages, and then turned into a sobbing, shaking, baby-voiced thing who wanted to know what was happening and desperately wanted my Mommy. And a cheeseburger once they hit me with enough morphine to stop screaming in pain. I only remember the baby voice and asking what had happened to me and why people were holding me down to bandage me. And then I pissed myself. Those people wanted to kill me as they bandaged my legs a third time. An operating theater of dozens of people who were given a list of my health concerns, including psychiatric care directly related to fear about the procedure, watched me dissociate twice, utterly missed an opportunity to help me. It has taken 13 years to correctly diagnose me, This is what forensically examining my life has given me. I have stories about what happens during my blackouts. But wanting to know who I fully am also yields this disappointment and wistful sadness. For every relief, there is also pain, frustration, or anger when I find yet another painful disappointment. I wonder who I'd be if I had that much time in therapy. Maybe I'd still have my career.
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Falling asleep vs hypervigilance
So, if I sleep, it’s because someone safe is around. I don’t sleep when I’m alone, usually. Hypervigilance is a bitch. In the last few weeks, I’ve fallen asleep around two new people, and I’m so confused. They’re clearly safe people, ones I would consider protective of me, but when I usually can’t fall asleep without my husband and child within arm’s reach and just straight up faceplant snoring like the world’s cutest buzz saw AND giggle about it with at least one of them in my sleep fuzzy, cuddly, soft, warm mode, holy hell.
Hold onto every good thing, Dee. There are plenty of shit experiences in life. This one deserves honor.
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Hypnotherapy
Last night, I was so nervous and stressed, I couldn't stop vomiting. The GI doc I've seen has tested for everything and writes off this absolute agony as nervous upset. Why? My first hypnotherapy session was today, just to see if I could tolerate it and to maybe hopefully help me with happy place building and grounding. I'm apparently really easy to hypnotize. I remember about half of the session and don't remember the rest. Then I took my family to lunch and my child to Target. My child promptly devoured my discretionary spending for the week and half my lunch. I couldn't eat anyway. My stomach is still killing me, but I'm calm. I think I walked away from the session with that... And a nagging feeling I fell asleep on my therapist 😂😂😂
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As an adult, I can quite literally do whatever I want to, but I always end up wanting to just go home.
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2/15
I fucking hate waiting tables, especially on V Day. I call it the Hangry Games. Most of my tables were pleasant. I'm just bone tired and wired for sound from over stimulation. So, I was thinking about code switching. How is DID not an individual version of that? My tone here is sincere, and I'm speaking from my experience as a poc. I behave in the safest manner around possible threats due to my brown face. I behave in the safest manner to function daily due to my mental illness. Somebody help me flesh this thought out, or argue against it if you see a glaring problem with the idea. I'm going to kick it around with my therapist (also a poc) at our next appointment.
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