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Inpatient With Dissociative Identity Disorder #2

Looking back on my/our times inpatient, I see an array of different experiences. Whilst at first I felt locked up, caged and incapacitated, later on I felt safer and more in agency of myself. My first inpatient experience was in 2010. This is what I wrote about it:

“I was in psychiatric hospital from April to June 2010. The rooms were cold, with white walls and loud air conditioning. I always fell asleep watching the wall, the shadows portrayed on it by the blinds.

(…)

The worst of all was when the visits went from once a week to none. When my phone was taken away from me. When I wasn’t allowed to see my parents.

(…)

Being caged in a room with no lock, no security, no privacy, without any contact into the world — and no hugs, that was what hospital was like.

I can’t believe I went there by choice.”

The hospital rooms I’ve been in still aren’t all that comfortable. The one I’m in right now is a mix-match of blues and purples (with a blue ceiling, of all things!) and the clock on the front wall is loud and crooked.

Here, we fall asleep with not just our teddy bear but also with our unicorn, bundled up in surprisingly comfortable hospital sheets. Here there is much less need for the sort of musical escapism I did as a teenage patient. Here I am a subject, an agent in my own treatment, and my folks no longer dictate my medical ways. On the contrary, I/we decide how and when and why I am treated.

I was visited by a friend last night, and would most likely be visited by my family and other friends if I were/am to stay longer. My friend gave me the biggest of hugs and played with my hair and kissed my forehead while we lay on my hospital bed talking at ease.

This time round, I have my phone, my laptop, my tablet – all connection to the outer world is intact. We are not trapped or suffocated, though staying within these four walls does get a tad bit boring in the end when I’ve finished all imaginable tasks on my computer.

And I do not regret coming here by choice, or having come here the last few times this past February and the year before. In between we have been treated in an open Daytime Ward, a six-hours-per-day sort of thing, like a part-time job except your job is, well, your own health and well-being.

Unfortunately, it is still a struggle for the staff to understand our condition and our way of being. The phrase ”So I hear you have these personalities?” is still a frequent visitor, and if I don’t remind them they’ll forget I’m not L (unfortunately, L is still up in her Limbo Room).

I’m seeing the doc today. Going to determine whether I leave or stay. Wish me luck!

By-theclocksystem

Supermom or Stepford Wife

Today I contemplate everything I thought I knew.

  1. I have three amazing kids
  2. My husband is my best friend
  3. He will always have my back
  4. When I’m struggling he will be the rock I can depend on

It’s funny how circumstances in life change and put things in perspective. It was just 7 short years ago that I went through a truly nasty divorce from a truly abusive person. Something that seemed impossible to overcome. But I did and I came out stronger then ever. Through that I had my rock, my best friend and now my husband. But, I guess happiness is all relative to the situations at hand.

I have three children. Two from my first marriage and one from my second. They are all great kids. Each has their strengths and, like every other human, they have their weaknesses. My daughter she is incredibly smart and athletic but she is extremely over dramatic and some what self centered. My youngest son is the sweetest thing you will every meet and hilariously funny but we have had struggles with some medical problems with him. Recently we found out he isn’t being defiant about using the potty but is instead struggling with an issues that doesn’t allow him to have control over it. Imagine how guilty I felt after yelling for a year about the accidents.  Then, there’s my middle son, part of the reason I’m really here.  He so incredibly affectionate, he craves attention and seeks approval.  But, we just found out he has ADHD. Which now makes the issues in school, the tempter tantrums, the lack of impulse control all make sense. Again, imagine my guilt when I realized he’s not trying to drive Mommy crazy today, he just can’t control some of these things.

So, I need to change. I have to learn to be the support system he needs to deal with the issues in front of him and those he will face in the future. I need to understand he may not do things or react to things the same way his siblings do. I need to accept that it is OK to handle things differently with each child because people are different and we all need different things in life. All of this I can accept. I can adjust and move forward with my children’s best interests in mind. But, what about everyone else.

My mother, who I personally think struggles with her own un-diagnosed disorder. It’s like her and my son fuel each others anger. Other parents who may not understand that he isn’t a “bad” kid. Other kids who  won’t understand why he reacts to things the way he does. But, what about my husband, the rock that is supposed to be there for me.  What do I do when he doesn’t get it. I think that’s the hardest part.

I know what I need to do and it my choice to take steps to do it. I choose to put my children first and do everything in my power to help them. But, I can’t make someone else’s choice for them. Today I feel like I have a new choice, my husband or my child. But, that is no choice. My husband is a grown man who should have the capacity to act like an adult and my child is, well, a child who needs his mom.

My son had a bad day yesterday. He was as his grandparents to eat dinner with them and was lashing out and very argumentative. My husband went to get him and bring him home. As soon as they walked in my husband was yelling. I don’t know what happened but I couldn’t have asked if I wanted to over the yelling. So I raised my voice and yell that’s enough. Next thing I know dinner is thrown across the floor and my husband storms out of the house and slams the door. I call him and the only response I get is don’t call me. I send him a message about how we need to handle things differently and yelling is not the answer because it only make him more angry and agitated. I explain ADHD is a neurological disorder not just a kid who doesn’t feel like listening today. And, the reply back is “if this behavior is going to be tolerated I can’t be with you I need a DIVORCE because I can’t do this anymore. I wont tolerate disrespect from you or him.”  My first thought, who is this person???  My second thought, there’s the fucking door we don’t need you.

This is my best friend, my rock, my support system and here I stand feeling abandoned. He didn’t come home last night. And I feel like I should care, but I don’t.  I am angry and hurt and disappointed. I have a child that needs me. I don’t have time to waste on an adult who wants to act like a child.

I think when is comes to wives he doesn’t have it so bad. I will be honest I am not a great cook. I barely cook at all and I’m not a huge fan of house work. But, I go to work every day. Up until recently, I was supporting the family financially. I don’t nag him about money. I don’t really fight with him about anything. I personally think we have a good sex life. Things have been good, for me at least. And then this. The line that keeps playing in my head, I won’t tolerate your disrespect. Me? The wife who supported you through job after job. The one who stood by your side through all the struggles the past 2 years without arguing or nagging or resenting you. Disrespect? For standing up for my child? This is where we throw out divorce? What response is he expecting from that? Am I supposed to be a Stepford Wife. A “a servile, compliant, submissive, spineless wife who happily does her husband’s bidding and serves his every whim dutifully.” If that’s the expectation then he lives in a fantasy world.

Everything I have been through in life has made me stronger. Maybe it was preparing me for this. For the challenge I was going to have to face alone without the support of those who I thought would always be there for me.

All I know is right now I need to put on my cape and play Supermom as best I can. Will I fail? Most definitely. I’m human, but I need to be the adult and try my best everyday to do everything in my power to give my children everything they need. Everyone else can either get on board or get out of my way.

This Is Me

Hello,

I am an 18 year old girl with no passions whatsoever. You can now already see how bland I am. No one would probably read what I have to say here, but I’ve been living with this for far too long. I can’t let it out to anyone. #1 Fault in me: I push people away once they get too close. It’s a lonely life I have here. It’s not like I can change. It’s funny how a bunch of strangers can read my deepest thoughts, but not my friends.

I basically hate every living inch of myself. Breakdowns are a norm. Being in boarding school doesn’t help much. I’m stuck in these four walls. Having nothing but these four walls staring down at me just rips me apart.

 

I will be writing this in sequels, so yeah..

Childhod

My mother would often threaten me that she was going to get really sick and die if I didn’t obey her like a good child does. She would often say how horrible of a kid I was, and how my attitude was going to destroy my life in the future.

In front of people she would say how smart and creative I was, but how I would get on her wits and make her loose control.

Funny, how she had strength one day to beat me up and the next she was in bed complaining of how sick she was from who knows what. I spent most of my childhood ignoring her complaints about her health, her overly-frequent visits to doctors and how she would loudly and dramatically announce she had an annual breast exam the next day. She also spent a lot of time saying how unloving I was by not caring for her and giving her the attention and care she needed.

I refused to let her control me. I refused so hard, she made sure to cut out all my other outside-relationships and to leave me hopeless each time I reconstructed my life back together. How she would talk to me about my friends when I was little, claiming they stole things from me or where jealous of me. And how in the blink of an eye, I had no friends anymore. I still have problems trusting friends. 

Finally for once in my life, I feel like I have control. Now that I moved a whole sea away from her and that I have cut phone calls, and only Skype every few months for an hour or so. And even still, I can’t stand her.

This last year has been so constructive to my life, I have done a complete twist in myself and feel so much different. I am happy, I have a stable life, and no one is there  sabotaging it. She doesn’t have enough resources to try to.

I can’t imagine inviting her to stay over. Why would I want that? She brings it up on every call. I really wouldn’t want her here. I know her, she won’t behave herself.

 

I Never Even Knew

I think it’s Munchhausen by Proxy. Malignant Narcissism is more like it I think, but the DSM (whatever version we’re on now) doesn’t recognize it. Did I read that correctly, somewhere? Wow. That’s all I have to say is wow. As life goes, from birth to death everyone has a story. I never understood that my mother was like, but each day gives me more perspective and puts it into balance.

I need to find the right person to speak with about this, so that I can begin to resolve it. The process of discovering aspects of the narcissists personality is none other than astounding, and I can’t imagine why in the hell it has taken me this long to see it. My brothers cannot see it. It’s fascinating. I pushed and pushed I guess, not accepting that my mother’s type of communication is even remotely acceptable, and my siblings just aren’t ready, if they will ever be to see it. It’s okay, because for some reason I see it, and I’m out of the fog, and there’s no one to talk with about it.

The depth of understanding I have and my intuitive ability and willingness to deal with myself and others have led me to want to write, to talk to and be able to grieve respectfully. I’ll write more later. I hope this blog thing works out. If not, I’ll find some way to get it out…I have to.

I Just Need Someone To Tell Me If What He Did Was Okay.

I’m really confused and need some direction. I feel so empty and feel as though this is all my fault and as if I’m to blame. Someone please help me. My friend and I had been drinking, mind you A LOT, and I had been flirting with this guy, and I said he could come over and kiss me, harmless right? At least I thought it was. He came over and we were hanging out, the three of us, and eventually we kissed, but things were getting weird as he kept trying to get me to drink more and more even though I felt horrible and everything was spinning.

Every time I would look away he’d pour more vodka in my drink. He was completely sober, he hadn’t had a single sip of alcohol. I was laying on the ground and I remember him saying they’d have to put me to bed soon, at some point I was puking and I said I had to go lay down and I think I said if anyone wanted to join me they could (this is something where I feel like is my fault, like I was asking for it, but I just didn’t want to be alone). I was in the middle of putting pajamas on and he came into my room, this is where things get really blurry, I was not feeling well at all. I remember he sat on the bed and I think I sat on his lap and we kissed a bit and then we were laying down, I remember he kept trying to touch me and I kept saying no, I don’t remember how many times I said no, but I know it was multiple.

Eventually I just gave up, this is where I don’t remember how my pants came off. I remember his shirt coming off eventually, but I think he’d already put it in me by then, I remember it hurt so bad. I knew I didn’t want to have sex with him, especially without a condom, I just wanted it to be over with. The thing that bugs me is I don’t know how my pants got off. I remember just laying there taking it and when he told me to turn over I did in hopes that it would be done quicker. Then I blacked out for awhile, the last thing I remember is him laughing about how “tired” I was. I’m pretty sure I had fallen asleep.

I got dressed as soon as I could and went down stairs to my two friends, as one had come over, and he stayed for another hour. I just tried to stay away from him as something felt off. I remember him making comments about how he should fuck me and my friend and I just felt sick. I kissed him goodbye because I felt obligated, texted him the next day, but now he’s blocked off everything and something inside me just isn’t right anymore.