I was at the point of total defeat last week.  I have been working hard on a goal and no matter how hard I tried I continuously struggled to reach it.  I tried going through the wall; under, over and around and nothing, nothing worked.  I do not admit defeat well but this time I was out of options and tired of trying.  I finally reached a point this weekend were I said, “ I give up” – I admit defeat.  Once I did that,Ifelt much better the rest of the weekend.  I had decided to go into my therapist’s office on Monday and tell her my decision.


On Monday I told my therapist how frustrated I was.  She responded, “Why don’t you just take a step back from that wall and give yourself time to think on it”.  HMM – never thought of that one.  I was putting so much pressure on myself to achieve this goal I was not paying attention to all the stress and havoc it was creating in my life.  My therapist said to be happy for the small accomplishments.  The fact I had achieved the goal sometimes was a good sign because it showed I could do it and have the capacity to do it more in the future.  I do not need to do it all at the same time or right away.  It was years that created all these issues in my head and it will take time to get them all sorted out.  I really am just beginning my journey and need to be patient for the answers to come to me.  The more force I apply the more resistance I will get.  Having DID is not an easy issue.  There are always warring parties and ones that do not wish to compromise.  My goal is to get everyone to work together on a common goal even if they are doing it for different reasons.  I am many that is part of a whole.

My body – My best friend?

What do you see when you look in a mirror?  For me I see nothing – it is blank to me.  I see nothing at all.  I don’t know when the last time I actually saw myself in the mirror.  I wonder if I ever had?  I’ve always seen my body as my enemy – never my friend.  It led to frequent discussions and fights within my family.  I got more praise and acceptance from people outside my family then within.  I stopped looking in a mirror years ago.  I guess I fell down the rabbit hole and just decided everyone was right and why waste my time trying to change anything.  I have let my personal appearance go to hell in a hand basket.  My hair needs cut, all of me needs a good scrubbing, my clothes could use a makeover and my overall feelings about myself need severe help.  How can someone be taught to hate themselves.  I try to justify it by saying, “Mom was just trying to help and doing what mother’s do”, but then I look at how other mothers parent their children and it is nothing compared to how I was raised.  I want to fall in love with myself – not again but for the first time.  I want to be able to look in the mirror and say, “I love you”.  It’s is sad when your body is your enemy and not your friend, your best friend.


I recently went to the podiatrist to follow up on the state of my foot.  They took a bunch of X-Rays and then sent me to wait for the Dr to come in and review them with me.  The Dr told me the break had healed but the bad news was there was no cartilage to be found in the ball of my foot.  She told me the pain would get worse till I needed surgery.  Okay, not the news I needed to hear.  Then the Dr says, “Wow” and I’m hoping that’s good news.  She proceeds to tell me the top of my foot is caving in and there is no cartilage through my ankle.  Really news I did not want to hear.  Now I will let you know why I am sharing this.

My partner said to me, “Didn’t that freak you out and regret all the sports you played as a kid”?  I responded emphatically, “No”.  Without sports in my life as a child and young adult I would never have survived my family situation.  Sports gave me a family I enjoyed and an outlet for all my mixed up feelings.  Sports kept me out of the house and doing something positive with my time.  I received the praise and structure I so needed in my life.  Because you were required to keep a certain level of grades it forced me to study and stay on track in school.  So I cannot regret something that saved my life – even if I am paying for it now.  I will survive whatever is handed down the pike to me.  Hell was my childhood but does not need to be my present. 

I think we all have things we question as to whether or not they were a good choice for us in the long run.  We cannot go and change the past and I wouldn’t if I could.  What I’m going through right now is a small price to pay for the saving grace it gave me as a child.  Yes, it is not something I really want to deal with but that is what survivors learn to do.  We learn to take each day as it comes and be grateful for what we have.  When something bad happens we learn from it and move on.  I wil make it through this and take whatever happens.  I am thankful for just being here today and do not regret the choices I made in the past.Image


Present vs the Past

As I sit here and watch the snow fall I am drawn to how unique each snowflake is.  Snowflakes are just like survivors – we all have been hurt deeply but what makes us unique is how we have handled that trauma.  There is no straight path in recovery.  I am learning the hard way that there are many twists and turns in recovery.  Just when I think I am on the right path I am thrown a curve ball.  I have been struggling to get over my shower issues.  I kept coming up with excuse after excuse as to why I could not get in the shower.  My therapist and I talked about it on numerous occasions.  She reassured me it was “normal” for survivors to have problems using showers but the consequences of not using one far outweighed what I was doing.  My friend yesterday told me she needed to be blunt with me and was not trying to hurt my feelings.  She told me “just do it”.  No more excuses, no more rationalizations, no more analyzing – just do it.  That kinda snapped me to attention.  I could continue to find reasons or just battle my fears and do it.  I did take a shower yesterday and now the challenge is to take one every 2 days.  I have done the one day before but never have been able to follow up after that.  My therapist says for something to become a habit you must do it on a consistent basis.  So I have agreed to every other day hoping it will become a habit and not so much of a barrier in my life.  Many years ago I had no issues with taking a shower and did it on a daily basis.  When I entered trauma work and healing it became harder and harder to do the daily things in life.  I am realizing now just how widespread the damage my trauma has created on my life.  I try to remember this is the present and not the past.  My perpetrators have long moved on and are doing what they wish in their lives.  I need to start living in the present and not automatically retreat to the past when triggered.  I am the one in control of my life now and only I can make the changes that I need to have a long, fulfilling life.  By not doing the very basis things of daily life it makes it very hard for me to do the rest of the things in my life.  It shows at my work, where I volunteer and in my friendships.  I am tired of being controlled by my past and I vow to make a conscious effort to stay in the present and not use my past as an excuse to not more forward in my life.Image

Shreds of glass

The broken glass?  Was it half empty or half full?  In recovery we are always trying to figure out if recovery is just an illusion or a truly reachable goal.  We are that glass that has fallen into a million pieces and now we must ask – is it worth putting back together or is it better to get a new one?  I’ve been contemplating this for a long time now.  They say in the meetings that you cannot run from you.  If I am those million pieces how then do I become whole again?  I think what I am learning is there are pieces I want to keep and some I choose to leave out.  The glass may not look the same when I am done putting it back together but functionally it will be a lot more useful to me.  Right now with the glass in a million pieces it is just a mess that I try hard to avoid.  If I start with the big pieces than I will have a foundation to build off of.  The little bitty pieces will take time to examine and find whether they truly fit into the new version.  I want to have a glass that serves me – no one else.  This glass is only for me.  I control what is served in it.  I know I need to be careful and not try to rush this job.  I have my entire life to work on this glass and I just need to keep piecing together one piece after another.

High Tide

I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face.  I am yelling at myself because I feel like a failure for not being able to do what is so simple for “Normal” People.  It is the little things that get me so screwed up.  I try to act brave when I am asked if I ‘m okay and I smile and say everything is just fine – even though Inside I am Slowly dying.  I feel this huge wall building up in me again and I don’t know how to stop this from happening.  In the past, I did not have the knowledge so it kept me blind from the truth.  Now I have the knowledge but don’t seem able to act on it consistently.  When I can’t act on it I beat myself up and all the negative voices from the past coming flooding to the surface again.  I hear all those names like Dumb, Selfish, and Cry baby.  I feel I need to keep my feelings bottled up because it’s not safe to share them.  Just when I think I am at the point of a major breakthrough my brain does a backflip.  I try to remember 2 steps forward and one step back.  I don’t want to go back anymore because each new step forward was so painful to get in the first place – I don’t want trial runs.  I want to be one and done.  It’s such an overwhelming feeling to realize how crucial just doing the simple things in life, like eating, bathing, sleeping can be so hard for trauma survivors.  I am tired and weary – I must go rest.  Tomorrow is another day.     ““““““`

The Painter

The brushstrokes.  They come in all different shapes, color and sizes.  It is kind of like the panorama of our lives.  We have had different people and experiences that have helped form of into the person we are today.  Some of that we can undo but some will be with us forever.  It is like have black paint on your canvas and trying to cover it up.  No matter what you do it will always be obvious the black paint was underneath.  I try to hide myself in my art work.  Being precise with detail and form.  In the end though I just want it over and done with – the process has taken too long.  I think this way about treatment sometimes.  I try to stay on task, do my assignments and focus on the issue at hand but, it is hard to stay focused when you’re in agony and the only way to make it stop is to run away.  I have done way too much running in my life and I vowed this time I would see it through till the end- whenever that might be.  Right now I am battle weary and my endurance is being tested.  I spend hours crying both outwardly and in my head and it is very hard to find peace when you are in so much pain.  I wish people could see the emotional wounds that get inflicted on people – not just survivors.  Wounds heal in time and have a scar to remind us they were there but words that clamor around in your head like a pinball that has just been shot and everyone else is pushing the levers to keep the ball going.  I will find peace someday – I must believe that to keep going down this trail.

My old wheels

I am that rusted piece of scrap metal sitting in the junkyard.  Once I had a purpose and now only my bones are left.  I sit here waiting to be hoisted to my final resting spot.  I am tired and old.  My body had been through the ringer and all my parts have been taken out of me piece by piece.  I could say I once was a shiny sports car but that would be a lie.  What would more be the truth is I was a station wagon.  I had room for many different parts of me, of all ages.  I can hear the laughter coming from the old scraps.  That outer shell that hid all the pain and hurt inside.  Looking at me you would see a happy family out for a joy ride.   But upon closer examination you would realize how big and awkward I really was.  I delivered my passengers to hell and back.  I never got a choice as to my destination it was predetermined for me.  I would dream of the day I could drive my own car and not have a care in the world as to where we would end up.  Now those dreams seem so futile.  I am old and rusted.  There does not seem to be any hope for me now.  I could buy a new car but as my therapist said the old car still exists and it is my job to figure out what that car was all about.  Those pieces of scrap metal hold a lot of memories that can only be released by examining them.  Once I have had a chance to really look at all the pieces of that car will I truly know where I came from and the places I have been.  Once I have done that than I can finally be melted down and my parts can be melted whole again and ready for use.  I dream of the day when I can drive freely down the highway of life.


The pendulum swings back and forth – like the sweat off his body.  Drip. Drip, drip.  My heart is racing and I can see myself running in my head.  I have no destination in mind I just want to get far, far away.  Away from all this madness they call sanity.  They have built this tainted house.  They are aware of everything that is done outside it and people have the false sense that everything is okay inside it, but they are wrong.  There are evils that are done in this house.  Vile, nasty things that should never happen to anyone, let alone a child.  The child has seen so many horrors she just fly’s away now when they happen.  It feels like a light switch getting flipped.  One minute I am there and the next I am gone on a magical mystery tour of my mind.  The worst part is the sweat, the smells and the sounds – I cannot escape them.  They are etched into all my senses and cannot be erased.  Little things set them off most times I am unaware of them until I am reacting.  How hard it is to live with a ticking time bomb inside you.  Tic, Tic, Tic – the pin has been pulled – Where do you run for cover?

Getting caught in the nets of life

I am swimming below the ocean.  The scenery is so bright and colorful.  I can see everything clearly.  I am not paying attention to my surroundings because I am so mesmerized by the surrounding.  Suddenly I feel a pull at my leg.  A feel my stomach bottom out – I’m afraid to look down for fear what might be there.  Finally I get the nerve up and realize I am tangled in nets.  I am so angry at myself, how could I have let this happen.  I search frantically for my knife – it is not there.  I tug on my safety line but get nothing in return.  I realize I am all alone in this watery hell.  What once seemed to be so beautiful has become my watery grave?  I resign myself to the fact I will die here among the fish, algae and debris.  A part of me is resigned; this has been my fate all along.  Like the picture my family portrayed to the world all that I saw was the beauty not really what was lurking there.  By the time I realized the confounding situation I had gotten myself into it was too late.  I had nowhere to retreat to.  Looks can be very deceiving.  If you are to see the true colors of anything you must keep in tune with all your surroundings.  People/things tend to cluster where they are most comfortable.  So even though they may seem harmless do not lose sight of your environment.  I was once prey but no more.  I will protect all of us in any means possible.  I still enjoy viewing the fish but I am less apt to get caught in the nets now.  When I do get caught in a new I have been wise to reach out for my safety system that has proven faithful freeing me every time.

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