June 19, 2010
Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse: Four-Year Anniversary Edition
Welcome to the Four-Year Anniversary Edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse. I can hardly believe that on June 19, 2006, I founded this carnival with the debut of our first-ever edition.
Trigger Warning: Understandably, the subject of child abuse can be disturbing. Please exercise appropriate self-care when reading the following posts. We all want to advocate and raise awareness, but remember to keep yourself safe!
I'll start this edition off with a post of my own that discusses Are We Leaving The Door Wide Open For Child Abuse?
It talks about some events from my son's school and our neighborhood that really got me thinking about protecting our children. I think it was one of the things that helped motivate me to start The Blog carnival Against Child Abuse.
Mike McBride, from Child Abuse Survivor, was in our very first carnival edition four years ago. Since then, he's been one of our most active monthly participants and hosts. Thanks for all you do, Mike! Here, he presents Anniversaries and says, "In honor of the 4th anniversary, I had a thought about looking back on your life on important anniversaries." Hey, great idea! Thanks, Mike!
Healing & Therapy
Dr. Kathleen Young, who will be hosting our carnival in July, has submitted Learning to Love Yourself After Trauma for June. She is a regular contributor to the Healing & Therapy category from her blog, Dr. Kathleen Young: Treating Trauma in Chicago. This is a wonderful, healing post. I think any survivor could benefit from it. Thanks, Dr. Young!
Patricia Singleton presents Acknowledging Your Grief And Releasing It posted at Spiritual Journey of a Lightworker, saying, "Since I have been doing some major grieving lately having to do with my incest issues, I am revisiting older articles like this that I wrote about grief." I have found that feeling the feelings is so key to healing from childhood abuse. And grief is an enormous feelings issue. Thanks for this offering, Patricia.
Splinteredones talks about a topic near and dear to my heart: looking at the transformation from survivor to thriver. The post is called Peeking Around The Corner from Splinteredones's Blog. I'm so glad you're taking a look, Splinteredones!
Rising Rainbow presents Half Empty.........or Half Full posted at My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder, saying, "It's amazing how much power can come from a change in perspective." So true! Thanks for that insight, RR. And thanks for joining us for the carnival again!
I am so sad that April_Optimist from the wonderful, healing blog, The Thriver's Toolbox, has decided to quit blogging. But, I respect and understand her decision. She was one of the first bloggers I came across in the blogosphere who was really showing us survivors how to thrive. April was also one of the first boggers to participate in the blog carnival and now she says good bye to us all in her post, Thank You All. In her remarks, April said, "I realize I wrote this as a farewell for my own blog but maybe it makes sense to submit it for the carnival too--because I think it's important to know one can reach this point. All the things I've come to know I hope every survivor comes to know--especially that he or she matters." Thank you April, for all your contributions, and for saying goodbye. I wish you well as you continue on your Thriver's journey.
I love all the posts we get for the Healing & Therapy category. It really shows me how important this issue is (duh, right?), and how much we are all working at healing, and how far along the healing path we are all actually progressing. I especially love this post, with this great title, Just For Today from the Hope For Trauma blog. It really touched my heart. When submitting this post, Hope For Trauma commented, "I have found many things along this journey of healing. However, it is the moments of everyday that make it all worth it. Sometimes just taking a moment is what the journey is all about. "
Another Healing & Therapy post from Splinteredones called, Sitting at songha as Ego attacks, tells the painful truth. But, it also tells a powerful story of hope. I really appreciate your writing Splinteredones!
Mike McBride, returns from Child Abuse Survivor, with a post called The Importance of Fun. Doesn't that have a wonderful ring to it? We can easily get caught up in the struggles of therapy and day-to-day survival. So, it's important to remember to stop and treat ourselves to some fun. Thanks for that message, Mike!
Poetry
Our first poem was inadvertently left out of the May carnival when it bounced to the host's junk mail folder. I'm sure glad she checked that folder and forwarded it on to me. While this post contains a poem from Amy at the Amy K. Sorrells blog, it really touched me when she provided the background that explained her struggle with, then release and acceptance of...JOY. The post is called, Joy: Lilacs In The Rain. Go give it a read. It's refreshing!
Here's another poem that was meant for last month, but I'm glad to showcase it here. It's a truly sweet and beautiful poem by Hope For Trauma, who runs the blog of the same name. The poem is called Clouds & Rain.
Rising Rainbow gives us The Innocence of Black from her blog, My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder. When submitting, RR commented, "What I feared most actually held the answer to what I needed to know the most."
Rising Rainbow gives us another poem, The Distant Watcher from My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder. This time she remarks, "The logic of a child blames her feelings for selling her out because it's too painful to keep the blame pointing where it belongs." So true, RR. This is a classic survivor issue and I'm glad you could work through it in your poetry.
Brown-eyed Amazon, from the blog of the same name, is new to our carnival. Welcome, Brown-Eyed Amazon! Here, she presents a very moving and well-written poem called, Masquerading Angel. Please go check out the poem and leave a comment welcoming BEA to our carnival. Thanks!
And finally for Poetry, Brown-Eyed Amazon returns with a truly heart-felt and touching poem called His Little Girl posted at Brown-eyed amazon.
Advocacy & Awareness
Tracie tells us in her post from her blog From Tracie, that I Tell My Kid NOT to Obey Adults. She remarks, "This is something that I just happened to have scheduled to post today. I hope it works for the carnival. I'm so excited about it being the 4 year anniversary. Thanks for all the hard work you have done over the last 4 years. You are amazing!" I think your post is perfect for the carnival, Tracie, and I think YOU are amazing for teaching your child that she has the right to choose whether or not anyone touches her for any reason. Kudos!
I just love the post submitted from Kate at Kate 1975's blog! It's called her Links Page/Resources For Survivors and it's a super cool resource list that has all kinds of helpful links we can use. It's got some great articles linked, covering healing topics like self-esteem, grounding and comfort skills. There are also some lesser-known topics covered, such as clutter issues, mother-daughter sexual abuse and therapist abuse. What a lot of work you have done, Kate! And what a valuable resource. Thanks for providing it.
Aftermath
From his blog, Thoughts Along The Road to Healing, Dan L Hays talks about the importance of knowing when to say goodbye in, Know When to Fold 'Em. I think this is an especially important life skill for child abuse survivors to learn, as many of our parents and members of our families of origin are toxic. Dan says, "This post is about letting go when it's time, and how different people handle it differently. But there might come a time when it's just necessary to say 'goodbye!'"
Speaking of Dan, he was the original host for this month. With travel plans getting in the way, he and I could not come up with a Friday this month that would work for both of us. But, then I found out that this month marked four years of our carnival and this was to be our anniversary edition, so I was pleased with the outcome that I would host June and Dan will host coming up in September. Dan wants to do an Inner Child themed edition, which I think is a great idea! As many of you know, this is one of my favorite survivor/thriver topics to talk about.
I hope Colleen, from, Surviving by Grace, won't mind if I run her post now, as it is an Inner Child themed post. It's called Learning to Play and I think it's just wonderful! I'm so glad you've discovered the importance of play, Colleen! And, don't worry; there are lots of inner child topics to post about. I promise I'll help you with some ideas come September, if you need any. ;)
I was tempted to put this next submission under the poetry category, because it does, indeed, contain a poem. But, it is about a huge survivor aftermath issue: guilt. Therefore, I left it under this category where the blogger had submitted it. It comes from Leslie, at Leslie's Illusions, and it's called Ashes of Abuse: Guilt. Leslie is new to our carnival. Welcome, Leslie! About her post, Leslie says, "Though I did not mention it in this post, I am a survivor of childhood abuse. I'm grateful for the blogging world that enables me to connect and share with other survivors." And we are grateful that you are sharing and joining us for the carnival. Thanks, Leslie!
Protect Your Joy from Protect Your Joy's blog, talks about the important issue of Self-Injury and her achievement of being self-injury free for 50 days. Kudos to you, Protect Your Joy! Thanks for sharing with us. The post is called, When I'm The Assailant.
Survivor Stories
Rick Belden presents broken bones and the father wound posted at poetry, dreams, and the body, saying, "Hi Marj, I see that you're hosting this month. Don't know if you've chosen a theme yet, but I thought this post I wrote back in November might be timely with Father's Day coming up." Although we didn't do a specific Father's Day theme this month, Rick's post is certainly timely. I've always appreciated Rick's moving poetry. For this post--while it does contain a powerful poem--I also appreciate Rick sharing some commentary and background. Thanks, Rick!
Our next post was submitted by Virginia who writes for at Tamara's House, which is a residential healing facility for female survivors of childhood sexual abuse, located in Saskatchewan, Canada. Awesome! Welcome to the carnival, Tamara's House! In this post, A Survivor's Triumph, a survivor they call "Rain" tells her story as a past resident of this healing facility. Thank you for sharing.
Finally, Tracie--who was our wonderful host for the carnival in May--has the courage to tell her own poignant survivor story in: From Tracie: Tracie's Story posted at From Tracie.
That concludes this anniversary edition. I don't think we have any theme lined up yet, but the host for next month is Dr. Kathleen Young, Dr. Kathleen Young: Treating Trauma in Chicago. Submit your blog article to the next edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse by using our carnival submission form. Thank you all for your wonderful support and participation. You are the ones who make this carnival a continued success! Now, go forth and click links, read, and leave supportive comments at these blogs, won't you? I know you will and I thank you!
Trigger Warning: Understandably, the subject of child abuse can be disturbing. Please exercise appropriate self-care when reading the following posts. We all want to advocate and raise awareness, but remember to keep yourself safe!
I'll start this edition off with a post of my own that discusses Are We Leaving The Door Wide Open For Child Abuse?
It talks about some events from my son's school and our neighborhood that really got me thinking about protecting our children. I think it was one of the things that helped motivate me to start The Blog carnival Against Child Abuse.
Mike McBride, from Child Abuse Survivor, was in our very first carnival edition four years ago. Since then, he's been one of our most active monthly participants and hosts. Thanks for all you do, Mike! Here, he presents Anniversaries and says, "In honor of the 4th anniversary, I had a thought about looking back on your life on important anniversaries." Hey, great idea! Thanks, Mike!
Healing & Therapy
I feel bad that this first Healing & Therapy post was lost temporarily in the junk mail black hole of last month's host. This is a blogger, who I know from Twitter, who was encouraged to submit by another one of our valued Tweeps. The blog is called Protect Your Joy who said this when submitting: "Hope (Hopefortrauma) encouraged me to submit a post or two to your carnival. I am, honestly, very nervous to submit. Thank you for this Blog Carnival, it is always a blessing to read & an inspiration to survivors such as myself. Take care!" I'm so glad you could join us, Protect Your Joy, and I hope you will again, even if we do have technical difficulties sometimes. ;) Here's the wonderful post that shows great honesty, but also amazing hope for healing. It's called The Black Sheep, The Sick Child.
Dr. Kathleen Young, who will be hosting our carnival in July, has submitted Learning to Love Yourself After Trauma for June. She is a regular contributor to the Healing & Therapy category from her blog, Dr. Kathleen Young: Treating Trauma in Chicago. This is a wonderful, healing post. I think any survivor could benefit from it. Thanks, Dr. Young!
Patricia Singleton presents Acknowledging Your Grief And Releasing It posted at Spiritual Journey of a Lightworker, saying, "Since I have been doing some major grieving lately having to do with my incest issues, I am revisiting older articles like this that I wrote about grief." I have found that feeling the feelings is so key to healing from childhood abuse. And grief is an enormous feelings issue. Thanks for this offering, Patricia.
Splinteredones talks about a topic near and dear to my heart: looking at the transformation from survivor to thriver. The post is called Peeking Around The Corner from Splinteredones's Blog. I'm so glad you're taking a look, Splinteredones!
Rising Rainbow presents Half Empty.........or Half Full posted at My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder, saying, "It's amazing how much power can come from a change in perspective." So true! Thanks for that insight, RR. And thanks for joining us for the carnival again!
I am so sad that April_Optimist from the wonderful, healing blog, The Thriver's Toolbox, has decided to quit blogging. But, I respect and understand her decision. She was one of the first bloggers I came across in the blogosphere who was really showing us survivors how to thrive. April was also one of the first boggers to participate in the blog carnival and now she says good bye to us all in her post, Thank You All. In her remarks, April said, "I realize I wrote this as a farewell for my own blog but maybe it makes sense to submit it for the carnival too--because I think it's important to know one can reach this point. All the things I've come to know I hope every survivor comes to know--especially that he or she matters." Thank you April, for all your contributions, and for saying goodbye. I wish you well as you continue on your Thriver's journey.
I love all the posts we get for the Healing & Therapy category. It really shows me how important this issue is (duh, right?), and how much we are all working at healing, and how far along the healing path we are all actually progressing. I especially love this post, with this great title, Just For Today from the Hope For Trauma blog. It really touched my heart. When submitting this post, Hope For Trauma commented, "I have found many things along this journey of healing. However, it is the moments of everyday that make it all worth it. Sometimes just taking a moment is what the journey is all about. "
Another Healing & Therapy post from Splinteredones called, Sitting at songha as Ego attacks, tells the painful truth. But, it also tells a powerful story of hope. I really appreciate your writing Splinteredones!
Mike McBride, returns from Child Abuse Survivor, with a post called The Importance of Fun. Doesn't that have a wonderful ring to it? We can easily get caught up in the struggles of therapy and day-to-day survival. So, it's important to remember to stop and treat ourselves to some fun. Thanks for that message, Mike!
Poetry
Our first poem was inadvertently left out of the May carnival when it bounced to the host's junk mail folder. I'm sure glad she checked that folder and forwarded it on to me. While this post contains a poem from Amy at the Amy K. Sorrells blog, it really touched me when she provided the background that explained her struggle with, then release and acceptance of...JOY. The post is called, Joy: Lilacs In The Rain. Go give it a read. It's refreshing!
Here's another poem that was meant for last month, but I'm glad to showcase it here. It's a truly sweet and beautiful poem by Hope For Trauma, who runs the blog of the same name. The poem is called Clouds & Rain.
Rising Rainbow gives us The Innocence of Black from her blog, My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder. When submitting, RR commented, "What I feared most actually held the answer to what I needed to know the most."
Rising Rainbow gives us another poem, The Distant Watcher from My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder. This time she remarks, "The logic of a child blames her feelings for selling her out because it's too painful to keep the blame pointing where it belongs." So true, RR. This is a classic survivor issue and I'm glad you could work through it in your poetry.
Brown-eyed Amazon, from the blog of the same name, is new to our carnival. Welcome, Brown-Eyed Amazon! Here, she presents a very moving and well-written poem called, Masquerading Angel. Please go check out the poem and leave a comment welcoming BEA to our carnival. Thanks!
And finally for Poetry, Brown-Eyed Amazon returns with a truly heart-felt and touching poem called His Little Girl posted at Brown-eyed amazon.
Advocacy & Awareness
Tracie tells us in her post from her blog From Tracie, that I Tell My Kid NOT to Obey Adults. She remarks, "This is something that I just happened to have scheduled to post today. I hope it works for the carnival. I'm so excited about it being the 4 year anniversary. Thanks for all the hard work you have done over the last 4 years. You are amazing!" I think your post is perfect for the carnival, Tracie, and I think YOU are amazing for teaching your child that she has the right to choose whether or not anyone touches her for any reason. Kudos!
I just love the post submitted from Kate at Kate 1975's blog! It's called her Links Page/Resources For Survivors and it's a super cool resource list that has all kinds of helpful links we can use. It's got some great articles linked, covering healing topics like self-esteem, grounding and comfort skills. There are also some lesser-known topics covered, such as clutter issues, mother-daughter sexual abuse and therapist abuse. What a lot of work you have done, Kate! And what a valuable resource. Thanks for providing it.
Aftermath
From his blog, Thoughts Along The Road to Healing, Dan L Hays talks about the importance of knowing when to say goodbye in, Know When to Fold 'Em. I think this is an especially important life skill for child abuse survivors to learn, as many of our parents and members of our families of origin are toxic. Dan says, "This post is about letting go when it's time, and how different people handle it differently. But there might come a time when it's just necessary to say 'goodbye!'"
Speaking of Dan, he was the original host for this month. With travel plans getting in the way, he and I could not come up with a Friday this month that would work for both of us. But, then I found out that this month marked four years of our carnival and this was to be our anniversary edition, so I was pleased with the outcome that I would host June and Dan will host coming up in September. Dan wants to do an Inner Child themed edition, which I think is a great idea! As many of you know, this is one of my favorite survivor/thriver topics to talk about.
I hope Colleen, from, Surviving by Grace, won't mind if I run her post now, as it is an Inner Child themed post. It's called Learning to Play and I think it's just wonderful! I'm so glad you've discovered the importance of play, Colleen! And, don't worry; there are lots of inner child topics to post about. I promise I'll help you with some ideas come September, if you need any. ;)
I was tempted to put this next submission under the poetry category, because it does, indeed, contain a poem. But, it is about a huge survivor aftermath issue: guilt. Therefore, I left it under this category where the blogger had submitted it. It comes from Leslie, at Leslie's Illusions, and it's called Ashes of Abuse: Guilt. Leslie is new to our carnival. Welcome, Leslie! About her post, Leslie says, "Though I did not mention it in this post, I am a survivor of childhood abuse. I'm grateful for the blogging world that enables me to connect and share with other survivors." And we are grateful that you are sharing and joining us for the carnival. Thanks, Leslie!
Protect Your Joy from Protect Your Joy's blog, talks about the important issue of Self-Injury and her achievement of being self-injury free for 50 days. Kudos to you, Protect Your Joy! Thanks for sharing with us. The post is called, When I'm The Assailant.
Survivor Stories
Rick Belden presents broken bones and the father wound posted at poetry, dreams, and the body, saying, "Hi Marj, I see that you're hosting this month. Don't know if you've chosen a theme yet, but I thought this post I wrote back in November might be timely with Father's Day coming up." Although we didn't do a specific Father's Day theme this month, Rick's post is certainly timely. I've always appreciated Rick's moving poetry. For this post--while it does contain a powerful poem--I also appreciate Rick sharing some commentary and background. Thanks, Rick!
Our next post was submitted by Virginia who writes for at Tamara's House, which is a residential healing facility for female survivors of childhood sexual abuse, located in Saskatchewan, Canada. Awesome! Welcome to the carnival, Tamara's House! In this post, A Survivor's Triumph, a survivor they call "Rain" tells her story as a past resident of this healing facility. Thank you for sharing.
Finally, Tracie--who was our wonderful host for the carnival in May--has the courage to tell her own poignant survivor story in: From Tracie: Tracie's Story posted at From Tracie.
That concludes this anniversary edition. I don't think we have any theme lined up yet, but the host for next month is Dr. Kathleen Young, Dr. Kathleen Young: Treating Trauma in Chicago. Submit your blog article to the next edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse by using our carnival submission form. Thank you all for your wonderful support and participation. You are the ones who make this carnival a continued success! Now, go forth and click links, read, and leave supportive comments at these blogs, won't you? I know you will and I thank you!
Labels: advocacy, anniversary, awareness, Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, blog carnivals, child abuse, childhood sexual abuse, dissociation, feelings, healing, Poetry, self-injury, therapy
January 26, 2010
Trauma Processing, Therapy & Counseling
I know a lot of us out here in the blogosphere have a "T;" a therapist we go to once a week, once a month, whenever. Some, like me, go through "therapy marathons," opting to go to T two or three times a week instead of going into the hospital for really intense processing work.
I've been in some form of therapy or another now, on a somewhat regular basis, for almost 20 years. Now, wait. Stay with me. Some of you who are rather new to therapy may be ready to shriek, "Eek! I'm outta here! I don't want to be in therapy that long! Who wants to be in therapy forever?!" I want to tell you that I'm one of the many unfortunate survivors who floundered around in the mental health system with an inadequate diagnosis for years. I didn't find out how severe my dissociative disorder was until just three years ago.
I didn't even know I had PTSD until after we moved to Colorado, less than a dozen years ago. My first official diagnosis was bipolar and I was put on Prozac. I have to give my first psychiatrist credit: He actually apologized to me a few years later and reversed my diagnosis. He told me that, while I had depressive episodes, my depression was situational, not cyclical. I wouldn't find out until just a year ago that what looks like "mania" on some occasions is actually the m.o. of one of my "let's-get-it-done-yesterday" parts.
Currently, I'm working with a woman who has over 20 years of experience working with dissociative patients. She's the "only game in town:" I'd have to drive over an hour each way to see another dissociative expert T in my state. I'm lucky to have her. Overall, I'm making tremendous progress with her. I've had no dissociative fugues or huge dissociative switching incidents that have been disruptive for over a year. I'm learning how to let some of my parts with even the toughest exteriors feel safe enough to have feelings and show their pain. I've given new "jobs" and crafted contracts with parts who I used to call "punishers." Now, we can talk about what they are protecting and what they are truly concerned about, instead of jumping to the dysfunctional reaction of self-harm. Just in the last few months, My T's told me she's even starting to see some--dare I hope it, much less say it?--integration. Hooray!
Before my current T, I was with an expert in traumatic stress and we made great inroads on trauma processing and getting my PTSD under control. I learned very useful grounding techniques and was able to vastly decrease my amount of nightmares and flashbacks. He also helped me learn how to greatly reduce my hyper vigilance and automatic startle response reactions. Heck, I can even go to a restaurant now and not be concerned about exactly where the exit (the escape route) is. I can sit at a table in a chair that is not backed up against the wall.
So, as you can see, I am grateful for my progress. I feel like I "shouldn't" complain. But, with all this great therapy "stuff," all the techniques the last two therapists I've had have pulled out of their well-educated and experienced bags of tricks, I feel like I'm missing something. What I miss, what I crave is counseling.
Does anybody out there know what I mean or feel the same way? Let me tell you what I'm talking about in my own experience. I know that some therapists do, indeed, give counseling because I had one--out of the many I've seen--who actually counseled me once. It was over a dozen years ago, back in Illinois, when I worked with her. I was a little put off, at first, by how "new-agey" she was, but I was immediately impressed by how compassionate and how spiritual (without being religious) she was, and by how much she cared. She also had great therapy techniques and ideas. But, what really moved me was her caring. Because she cared about me so much, she was very successfully able to counsel me on things that effected my day-to-day life. When I went in to see her for a session, we not only talked about my childhood abuse and my dysfunctional ways of coping; we could talk about anything.
I was so impressed with her and felt that her skills, empathy and advice were so needed, I drove three hours each way to see her!
Since that time--while I've had successful therapy and trauma processing sessions that could probably be sited in clinical training or published in some researcher's book--I've had very little counseling. I have a husband who is an only child and has lost both of his parents to cancer. Yet, I have no counselor to talk to about it (or really anything about my relationship with my spouse). I have a son who screamed at the top of his lungs with "colic" for seven months as an infant and now struggles with sensory integration, dyslexia and ADHD symptoms and has "twice-gifted" status at a school that does not meet his needs. Yet, I have nobody to counsel me on how to be the best parent I can be and how to squeeze out that last drop of patience and unconditional love I want to provide for him.
I understand that, when Mom is huddled in the closet in the fetal position or running away in dissociative fugues, PTSD and dissociative disorder therapy has to be the first priority. But, can't I ask for more? I'd like to have some counseling in the area of relationships.
In addition to me, my husband, son and sister each have their own individual therapists. My husband and son and I have gone to family counseling together. But, I have received next to nothing that I have found helpful or useful when I have asked either of my last two therapists to counsel me on my relationships with my husband, sister or son. Shouldn't the T I currently see, for up to four-and-a-half hours some weeks, be able to give me some useful advice on my current relationships? Aren't human relationships really what this life is about? I don't think the goal of all my hard work and intense therapy has been so I can be happier alone, living like a hermit in a bubble somewhere. I think it's been so that I can live my life in-relationship-with-beloved-others in a more functional, healthy, loving way.
Why do I feel sometimes--during the last eight years--that the only therapeutic success I've made is for some clinical study, or done in some cold, sterile research lab? Why do I keep feeling like I'm coming up against some "all-or-nothing" type of strategy? Can't I experience a more balanced approach?
I'll probably tell you about my therapy appointment from last week that prompted this line of bloggy questioning. But, for now, I wanted to publish a more balanced post, instead of just a rant. In the meantime, feel free to share your own experience in comments. Tell me what you think.
I've been in some form of therapy or another now, on a somewhat regular basis, for almost 20 years. Now, wait. Stay with me. Some of you who are rather new to therapy may be ready to shriek, "Eek! I'm outta here! I don't want to be in therapy that long! Who wants to be in therapy forever?!" I want to tell you that I'm one of the many unfortunate survivors who floundered around in the mental health system with an inadequate diagnosis for years. I didn't find out how severe my dissociative disorder was until just three years ago.
I didn't even know I had PTSD until after we moved to Colorado, less than a dozen years ago. My first official diagnosis was bipolar and I was put on Prozac. I have to give my first psychiatrist credit: He actually apologized to me a few years later and reversed my diagnosis. He told me that, while I had depressive episodes, my depression was situational, not cyclical. I wouldn't find out until just a year ago that what looks like "mania" on some occasions is actually the m.o. of one of my "let's-get-it-done-yesterday" parts.
Currently, I'm working with a woman who has over 20 years of experience working with dissociative patients. She's the "only game in town:" I'd have to drive over an hour each way to see another dissociative expert T in my state. I'm lucky to have her. Overall, I'm making tremendous progress with her. I've had no dissociative fugues or huge dissociative switching incidents that have been disruptive for over a year. I'm learning how to let some of my parts with even the toughest exteriors feel safe enough to have feelings and show their pain. I've given new "jobs" and crafted contracts with parts who I used to call "punishers." Now, we can talk about what they are protecting and what they are truly concerned about, instead of jumping to the dysfunctional reaction of self-harm. Just in the last few months, My T's told me she's even starting to see some--dare I hope it, much less say it?--integration. Hooray!
Before my current T, I was with an expert in traumatic stress and we made great inroads on trauma processing and getting my PTSD under control. I learned very useful grounding techniques and was able to vastly decrease my amount of nightmares and flashbacks. He also helped me learn how to greatly reduce my hyper vigilance and automatic startle response reactions. Heck, I can even go to a restaurant now and not be concerned about exactly where the exit (the escape route) is. I can sit at a table in a chair that is not backed up against the wall.
So, as you can see, I am grateful for my progress. I feel like I "shouldn't" complain. But, with all this great therapy "stuff," all the techniques the last two therapists I've had have pulled out of their well-educated and experienced bags of tricks, I feel like I'm missing something. What I miss, what I crave is counseling.
Does anybody out there know what I mean or feel the same way? Let me tell you what I'm talking about in my own experience. I know that some therapists do, indeed, give counseling because I had one--out of the many I've seen--who actually counseled me once. It was over a dozen years ago, back in Illinois, when I worked with her. I was a little put off, at first, by how "new-agey" she was, but I was immediately impressed by how compassionate and how spiritual (without being religious) she was, and by how much she cared. She also had great therapy techniques and ideas. But, what really moved me was her caring. Because she cared about me so much, she was very successfully able to counsel me on things that effected my day-to-day life. When I went in to see her for a session, we not only talked about my childhood abuse and my dysfunctional ways of coping; we could talk about anything.
I was so impressed with her and felt that her skills, empathy and advice were so needed, I drove three hours each way to see her!
Since that time--while I've had successful therapy and trauma processing sessions that could probably be sited in clinical training or published in some researcher's book--I've had very little counseling. I have a husband who is an only child and has lost both of his parents to cancer. Yet, I have no counselor to talk to about it (or really anything about my relationship with my spouse). I have a son who screamed at the top of his lungs with "colic" for seven months as an infant and now struggles with sensory integration, dyslexia and ADHD symptoms and has "twice-gifted" status at a school that does not meet his needs. Yet, I have nobody to counsel me on how to be the best parent I can be and how to squeeze out that last drop of patience and unconditional love I want to provide for him.
I understand that, when Mom is huddled in the closet in the fetal position or running away in dissociative fugues, PTSD and dissociative disorder therapy has to be the first priority. But, can't I ask for more? I'd like to have some counseling in the area of relationships.
In addition to me, my husband, son and sister each have their own individual therapists. My husband and son and I have gone to family counseling together. But, I have received next to nothing that I have found helpful or useful when I have asked either of my last two therapists to counsel me on my relationships with my husband, sister or son. Shouldn't the T I currently see, for up to four-and-a-half hours some weeks, be able to give me some useful advice on my current relationships? Aren't human relationships really what this life is about? I don't think the goal of all my hard work and intense therapy has been so I can be happier alone, living like a hermit in a bubble somewhere. I think it's been so that I can live my life in-relationship-with-beloved-others in a more functional, healthy, loving way.
Why do I feel sometimes--during the last eight years--that the only therapeutic success I've made is for some clinical study, or done in some cold, sterile research lab? Why do I keep feeling like I'm coming up against some "all-or-nothing" type of strategy? Can't I experience a more balanced approach?
I'll probably tell you about my therapy appointment from last week that prompted this line of bloggy questioning. But, for now, I wanted to publish a more balanced post, instead of just a rant. In the meantime, feel free to share your own experience in comments. Tell me what you think.
Labels: aftermath, alters, child abuse, dissociation, feelings, grounding, healing, PTSD, self-injury, therapy, trauma processing
October 15, 2009
Frozen in Mid-Step; What Now?
I Don't Know Who I Am by Marj aka Thriver on Polyvore.com
So, I'm feeling frustrated, disappointed and overwhelmed in the therapy department. The healing journey is, once again, feeling like an attempt to reach the Mt. Everest summit. Right now, I feel like I've hit a raging blizzard and I'm clawing the jagged rocks, trying not to slip back down, negating a thousand feet of hard-won ascent progress. To be honest, I feel like I need to set up camp and hunker down in my tent while I wait for the storm to pass.
Unfortunately, recovery from a trauma-induced dissociative disorder doesn't work that way. When the storm hits is when I have to muster up the strength and courage to work even harder and keep on climbing, even if it feels like I'm barely putting one foot in front of the other and I can't see where I'm going.
What prompted this, you ask? Well, I've been talking to my twin sister a lot lately about the progress she made at the WIIT program --The Women's Institute For Incorporation Therapy--in Florida. It's a one-of-a-kind treatment facility that practices incorporation therapy for dissociative trauma survivors. The more I talked with her, the more I wanted to try to attend this program myself. I feel like it could help me progress light years faster than the progress I'm making in individual therapy right now.
Let me give you some background detail that may explain why I got so excited about this idea. You see, I've been working a lot lately with parts that I used to call the "punisher parts" in the beginning. In the last year, it's really become apparent to me that these self-harming parts work overtime to maintain the abuse secret.
Here's the scenario I often get, but have just become aware of and started to understand: A young part starts to feel some feelings (not allowed!) of sadness, abandonment, fear, etc. Then a part I like to call a "firefighter" type comes out and jumps through all kinds of crazy hoops trying to shut off/down the feelings. This could include running away in dissociative fugues, getting suicidal, getting drunk, over-spending, etc. etc. Then, one of these protector (punisher) parts comes out and says, "You're getting out of hand. You're drawing too much attention to yourself. You are acting crazy. You're going to blow it. People will find out the secret." So then there's usually some self-injury type behavior. The problem with this is that it brings about huge feelings of shame and guilt, which threatens to start the whole feelings--avoiding feelings spiral all over again. So, I have a part named Serena who takes over and shuts the whole body down. I don't move, I don't talk, I don't do anything.
I'm trying to break this cycle of dissociative dysfunction. I have found--yeah, my therapist was right--that most of these self-destructive parts are really trying to be protective. They think that, if the secret gets out, I am going to be killed. I have found (as scary as they are, at first, to approach) that they are often quite cooperative once we get a dialogue going, get a contract not to self-harm "signed," and then I find them some more appropriate job to do that makes them still feel useful. I have a part named Sentry, for example, who does NOT get to be inappropriate and in people's faces anymore, but he gets the job of always being alert and aware of my surroundings whenever I'm getting out of my car and it's dark outside.
Sounds great, right? Well the difficulty I'm having now is that I've got a few of these protector (punisher) parts "standing down" with contracts and/or new jobs and now all hell is breaking loose with lots of previously-exiled little parts wanting to tell me their part of the story. They're all clamoring to be heard. They have sadness, fear, betrayal, rejection, abandonment, etc. issues to express and abuse memories they have been holding and are now ready to hand off to me. I told my therapist I feel like there's a long line of them stretched out in the dark, waiting to come into the light and be healed. This is great healing/therapy news and sign of progress. But, you can only imagine how overwhelming it is. It's gotten so bad that I'm back to a lot of PTSD symptoms like huge startle response and triggers that are sending me into full-blown flashbacks again. These are symptoms that I've had under control for a few years. So, you can understand why I fear I'm already starting to backslide.
I really thought that the WIIT program would be a great place to process all this in some kind of timely manner with lots of support and without the distractions of my special needs son, my husband, house cleaning, cooking, blah blah blah, etc. Well, I finally got hold of a real, live person at WIIT on the phone yesterday. I was hoping, since I am private pay (no mental health coverage for this pre-existing condition; we pay cash), I would be able to customize my own treatment plan there. Nope. This intake person I talked to wasn't budging. She told me that out-of-state patients are required to spend a minimum of one week inpatient at this facility and then two weeks of intensive outpatient. The alternative is to stay two whole weeks inpatient. She quoted me a price for this that was a small fortune. It was enough to pay for a new car, as a matter of fact!
So, the long and the short of it is that I'm not going. Crap! I might try to stay in a hotel for several days and see my therapist for several hours for a week and see how much we're able to accomplish that way. I don't know. I'll keep you all posted. Pray for a miracle??
Labels: dissociation, journey, overwhelm, parts, PTSD, self-injury, therapy, trauma, triggers
March 01, 2009
SIAD--Self-Injury Awareness Day
Today is March 1st and it's Self-Injury Awareness Day (SIAD).
Trigger Warning: Please be careful when reading this post. Self-injury topics can be very triggering and/or re-traumatizing for self-harmers, abuse survivors or not.
I notice that I haven't written about self-injury for a while. I used to be active in some self-injury forums, and I haven't visited them for a while either.
I have to be honest: I thought I had self-injury licked. I felt so good about the accomplishment when I wrote about my past personal experiences with self-injury on the "Strange Trip" page of the "My Story" section of my website, Survivors Can Thrive! I went for a couple of years, at least, without harming myself. This was during the period of time when I was getting a lot of trauma processing done with a therapist who's an expert in traumatic stress. Then the dissociative sh*t hit the fan, I got a new therapist, I discovered "splintering" from my dissociative disorder, and...I noticed self-injury creeping back into my life.
Since I have never cut, I think it took me a long time to be honest with myself that I was still a self-injurer. But, self-injury can take many forms. For me, it is usually scratching. I thought I knew why I did it and wrote about that on my dot com site and also on a March 1 post back in 2006 here.
But, since I've been more aware of my dissociative "episodes," I notice that there seem to be some times when I self injure as a way of self-punishment of some sort. In addition to the scratching, I sometimes bang myself in the head with the heal of my hand. This is usually accompanied by some verbally self-abusive statements such as, "I am so stupid!" or "I'm an idiot!" It makes me so angry now--thinking about it--that I identified with my abusive father and repeat the same insults that he used to rain down on me as a child. They are almost word-for-word, for crying out loud! Aaaacckkkk!
I feel very ashamed after I indulge in any self-injury behaviors. I still feel shame admitting these things now. It feels like a failing, when I've been so determined to break the cycle of abuse. I've been successful at doing this with my own precious child, but I don't consistently offer the same unconditional love to myself.
Well, as I find myself saying, again and again, awareness is the key to change. So, let's all do our part to raise awareness about self-injury, today and beyond. Here are a few links to other bloggers who are also raising awareness on this SIAD day:
Also, you can find some self-injury support, forums and other resources on my "Survivor Issues" page of my dot com site, which I just updated at the beginning of January. If you are dealing with self-injury, please know that you are not alone. So, please, don't try to go it alone. There is help and there is support. I'm glad that SIAD--Self-Injury Awareness Day--helped me gain awareness on a survivor issue that I need to work on some more with my therapist. And I'm grateful to be reminded again that I am not alone in this struggle.
Trigger Warning: Please be careful when reading this post. Self-injury topics can be very triggering and/or re-traumatizing for self-harmers, abuse survivors or not.
I notice that I haven't written about self-injury for a while. I used to be active in some self-injury forums, and I haven't visited them for a while either.
I have to be honest: I thought I had self-injury licked. I felt so good about the accomplishment when I wrote about my past personal experiences with self-injury on the "Strange Trip" page of the "My Story" section of my website, Survivors Can Thrive! I went for a couple of years, at least, without harming myself. This was during the period of time when I was getting a lot of trauma processing done with a therapist who's an expert in traumatic stress. Then the dissociative sh*t hit the fan, I got a new therapist, I discovered "splintering" from my dissociative disorder, and...I noticed self-injury creeping back into my life.
Since I have never cut, I think it took me a long time to be honest with myself that I was still a self-injurer. But, self-injury can take many forms. For me, it is usually scratching. I thought I knew why I did it and wrote about that on my dot com site and also on a March 1 post back in 2006 here.
But, since I've been more aware of my dissociative "episodes," I notice that there seem to be some times when I self injure as a way of self-punishment of some sort. In addition to the scratching, I sometimes bang myself in the head with the heal of my hand. This is usually accompanied by some verbally self-abusive statements such as, "I am so stupid!" or "I'm an idiot!" It makes me so angry now--thinking about it--that I identified with my abusive father and repeat the same insults that he used to rain down on me as a child. They are almost word-for-word, for crying out loud! Aaaacckkkk!
I feel very ashamed after I indulge in any self-injury behaviors. I still feel shame admitting these things now. It feels like a failing, when I've been so determined to break the cycle of abuse. I've been successful at doing this with my own precious child, but I don't consistently offer the same unconditional love to myself.
Well, as I find myself saying, again and again, awareness is the key to change. So, let's all do our part to raise awareness about self-injury, today and beyond. Here are a few links to other bloggers who are also raising awareness on this SIAD day:
Also, you can find some self-injury support, forums and other resources on my "Survivor Issues" page of my dot com site, which I just updated at the beginning of January. If you are dealing with self-injury, please know that you are not alone. So, please, don't try to go it alone. There is help and there is support. I'm glad that SIAD--Self-Injury Awareness Day--helped me gain awareness on a survivor issue that I need to work on some more with my therapist. And I'm grateful to be reminded again that I am not alone in this struggle.
Labels: aftermath, breaking the cycle, chid abuse, childhood sexual abuse, dissociation, links, part activity, self-injury, self-love, triggers
January 10, 2007
Happy New Year & What's Happening
Hey there and Happy New Year. Yeah, I'm still alive, in some form or another. I went to stay at a hotel when I freaked out on Thanksgiving. Holidays during the past few years have gone quite well. Now, this year, I'm back to "holidays=crisis."
As I was still between therapists, I thought working with some of my survivor workbooks might help me. I dug out my old The Courage To Heal. After doing a few exercises, I decided to take another flip through the whole book. I then decided to put it down, because I didn't see enough stuff on dissociation in there. (I don't think they talked about the subject much back when the book was published.) I've come to the conclusion that dissociation is a key issue for me...and I need to look at it.
It's an issue I feel I finally need to really face and look at honestly. (That's the main reason I've come to feel that it was a blessing in disguise that I lost my therapist--he really had very little experience in dissociative issues and we never really addressed it in therapy).
So, I put good ole TCTH down and looked into The Stranger In The Mirror instead. I realized I had barely skimmed the book since I've owned it. This time, I dove into it with my highlighter marker. I decided to take the dissociation scale "tests" in each chapter...and be very honest with my answers. When I did the interview developed by Colin A. Ross and got the DDNOS diagnosis, I wasn't as honest as I needed to be. Anything that seemed too "out there" I flatly denied. I've been in denial about a lot of things for a long time.
I still may end up with the vague DDNOS--the ever-popular Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified-- but I want all the issues to come out so I can get help with them. I've been wanting to get as much info as I can, because I was (am) really starting to fear I might have full-blown DID.
I still have never found any items in my possession that I have not known where they came from. And, as an adult anyway, there is not a lot of amnesia.
I called my twin sister to talk about it. I was afraid she would freak out and just not want to discuss such a thing. She surprised me by being very calm and open. She admitted that she had greeting cards and florists cards in her memento box from a man named, um, let's say Phil, who she didn't know. I had never heard of Phil either. WHOA!!
And my sister said that when she met me down in Arizona that time (during one of my dissociative fugue periods) she really didn't know me. HA! I could say the same for her on numerous occasions. I wonder if dissociation has a lot to do with her extreme volatile behavior that I've witnessed at times. Hhhmmmmmmm...
My dissociative fugues do seem quite severe and disturbing to me. Probably the scariest one was when I ended up lost and had to spend the night in the mountains of the National Forest with no food or water...not even a jacket. I'm sure at some points I was just running blind--a storm came up, the lightning scared the hell out of me, and I was soaked to the skin with the rain--but I think there were other points when I thought I'd just make it over that next pass and start a new life there. I also have other brief snippets where I think I was convinced my father was chasing me and was going to kill me. Whew, I feel weird admitting these details.
The amnesia I have in between the time I was soaking wet (I do recall the sound of water squishing in my shoes) and then completely dry is amazing to me. I mean, by the time I had any awareness of where I was, I was totally dry--no dampness at all! And by noon the next day, it was obvious that I had completely underestimated how long it would take me to get out and find the road. I must have really wandered a long way before I stopped when it got dark. The Search And Rescue team that was looking for me must have really underestimated the distance as well. They never even came close to finding me (in the end, I found the road myself).
Then there are the trips to Arizona. I assumed new identities both times (I've never admitted that to anyone before). The first time I was Ellen Hopkins, then Ellen Murphy. I was really sure--or at least there was some part of me that was certain, at least most of the time--that I was going to start a new life down there. I think I oscillated between this plan and thinking that being away from home, where nobody I knew could find me, was a good place to commit suicide.
My twin said she didn't even know who I was down there. I don't know why she never told me that before. I wonder how many times my husband hasn't known who the hell I am...and he's never told me.
I still carry so much shame about those Arizona trips. You see, I stayed in domestic violence ("battered women") shelters for at least part of the time on both occasions. I'm so afraid they're gonna come and arrest me for using those services when that wasn't really my situation. I can't remember which trip it was, but one of those times I vaguely remember crying on the phone to some kind intake person. It's so freaky: It was like I could hear myself crying and talking, but it wasn't really me, and I wasn't in control.
I've always said I'm a terrible liar and I'm no actress. But, I cried those tears and I think I really was very scared and freaked out. I was really running from something--it just wasn't some husband or boyfriend who was beating me up.
My sister explained some details that occurred in Arizona during the trip that she witnessed. I have no memory of some of the stuff. So, I guess there's some amnesia there as well.
The point is, the dissociative fugues have been major for me. And it feels like there's been more than one "part" of me involved--definitely things that I don't think I felt in control of. And here's the thing that I've needed to admit: I'm still doing it!
Shit! I've got to take a deep breath here. I'm going to have to admit this next part to my new therapist (I start with someone new tomorrow. I'm scared as hell but trying to remain hopeful). I don't know if I can admit this to my husband.
When I left on Thanksgiving, it was a plan to leave my husband. I think it was another version--some long, drawn out form--of some kind of fugue. It was my plan, again, to start a new life. I had made up my mind that, if I couldn't find a job, I would just try to get on disability.
The thing is, though, that I've promised--we have a deal--that I will no longer try to kill myself, and I don't self-harm/scratch anymore, and I don't run away anymore. I can go away to a hotel or trauma program, but we need to tell my husband where so he doesn't worry. Then there's the worry and the promise never to do anything again that's like abandoning my son. God, I have so much guilt and shame about these things from the past! Aaahhh! Anyway, so the move-out plan was a way to start a new life but get around all these conditions.
As I was still between therapists, I thought working with some of my survivor workbooks might help me. I dug out my old The Courage To Heal. After doing a few exercises, I decided to take another flip through the whole book. I then decided to put it down, because I didn't see enough stuff on dissociation in there. (I don't think they talked about the subject much back when the book was published.) I've come to the conclusion that dissociation is a key issue for me...and I need to look at it.
It's an issue I feel I finally need to really face and look at honestly. (That's the main reason I've come to feel that it was a blessing in disguise that I lost my therapist--he really had very little experience in dissociative issues and we never really addressed it in therapy).
So, I put good ole TCTH down and looked into The Stranger In The Mirror instead. I realized I had barely skimmed the book since I've owned it. This time, I dove into it with my highlighter marker. I decided to take the dissociation scale "tests" in each chapter...and be very honest with my answers. When I did the interview developed by Colin A. Ross and got the DDNOS diagnosis, I wasn't as honest as I needed to be. Anything that seemed too "out there" I flatly denied. I've been in denial about a lot of things for a long time.
I still may end up with the vague DDNOS--the ever-popular Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified-- but I want all the issues to come out so I can get help with them. I've been wanting to get as much info as I can, because I was (am) really starting to fear I might have full-blown DID.
I still have never found any items in my possession that I have not known where they came from. And, as an adult anyway, there is not a lot of amnesia.
I called my twin sister to talk about it. I was afraid she would freak out and just not want to discuss such a thing. She surprised me by being very calm and open. She admitted that she had greeting cards and florists cards in her memento box from a man named, um, let's say Phil, who she didn't know. I had never heard of Phil either. WHOA!!
And my sister said that when she met me down in Arizona that time (during one of my dissociative fugue periods) she really didn't know me. HA! I could say the same for her on numerous occasions. I wonder if dissociation has a lot to do with her extreme volatile behavior that I've witnessed at times. Hhhmmmmmmm...
My dissociative fugues do seem quite severe and disturbing to me. Probably the scariest one was when I ended up lost and had to spend the night in the mountains of the National Forest with no food or water...not even a jacket. I'm sure at some points I was just running blind--a storm came up, the lightning scared the hell out of me, and I was soaked to the skin with the rain--but I think there were other points when I thought I'd just make it over that next pass and start a new life there. I also have other brief snippets where I think I was convinced my father was chasing me and was going to kill me. Whew, I feel weird admitting these details.
The amnesia I have in between the time I was soaking wet (I do recall the sound of water squishing in my shoes) and then completely dry is amazing to me. I mean, by the time I had any awareness of where I was, I was totally dry--no dampness at all! And by noon the next day, it was obvious that I had completely underestimated how long it would take me to get out and find the road. I must have really wandered a long way before I stopped when it got dark. The Search And Rescue team that was looking for me must have really underestimated the distance as well. They never even came close to finding me (in the end, I found the road myself).
Then there are the trips to Arizona. I assumed new identities both times (I've never admitted that to anyone before). The first time I was Ellen Hopkins, then Ellen Murphy. I was really sure--or at least there was some part of me that was certain, at least most of the time--that I was going to start a new life down there. I think I oscillated between this plan and thinking that being away from home, where nobody I knew could find me, was a good place to commit suicide.
My twin said she didn't even know who I was down there. I don't know why she never told me that before. I wonder how many times my husband hasn't known who the hell I am...and he's never told me.
I still carry so much shame about those Arizona trips. You see, I stayed in domestic violence ("battered women") shelters for at least part of the time on both occasions. I'm so afraid they're gonna come and arrest me for using those services when that wasn't really my situation. I can't remember which trip it was, but one of those times I vaguely remember crying on the phone to some kind intake person. It's so freaky: It was like I could hear myself crying and talking, but it wasn't really me, and I wasn't in control.
I've always said I'm a terrible liar and I'm no actress. But, I cried those tears and I think I really was very scared and freaked out. I was really running from something--it just wasn't some husband or boyfriend who was beating me up.
My sister explained some details that occurred in Arizona during the trip that she witnessed. I have no memory of some of the stuff. So, I guess there's some amnesia there as well.
The point is, the dissociative fugues have been major for me. And it feels like there's been more than one "part" of me involved--definitely things that I don't think I felt in control of. And here's the thing that I've needed to admit: I'm still doing it!
Shit! I've got to take a deep breath here. I'm going to have to admit this next part to my new therapist (I start with someone new tomorrow. I'm scared as hell but trying to remain hopeful). I don't know if I can admit this to my husband.
When I left on Thanksgiving, it was a plan to leave my husband. I think it was another version--some long, drawn out form--of some kind of fugue. It was my plan, again, to start a new life. I had made up my mind that, if I couldn't find a job, I would just try to get on disability.
The thing is, though, that I've promised--we have a deal--that I will no longer try to kill myself, and I don't self-harm/scratch anymore, and I don't run away anymore. I can go away to a hotel or trauma program, but we need to tell my husband where so he doesn't worry. Then there's the worry and the promise never to do anything again that's like abandoning my son. God, I have so much guilt and shame about these things from the past! Aaahhh! Anyway, so the move-out plan was a way to start a new life but get around all these conditions.
I think it might be "derealization", I'm not sure, but I noticed a couple of times while I was in the hotel over the holiday season, that I just kinda "woke up" a few times and looked around confused. I would ask myself, "How did I get here? What am I doing here?"
Before I forget, I want to write about the paranoia. (This entry is lifted, pretty much straight out of my paper journal--sorry if it's rambly.) My sister said I was acting really paranoid in Arizona. I remember being surprised at how paranoid I felt a few times just recently down in Dallas, too.
I think the paranoia was one of the things that scared the shit out of me that I may actually be paranoid schizophrenic. Being "schizo" or "crazy" scares me way more than being DID...as much as that scares me.
I know that's why I wasn't totally honest on the Ross dissociative interview before. I've always been on the lookout for anything that would alert others that I'm crazy. That's why, when I used to self-harm, I never cut. I only scratched and I always did it in a hidden place, like under my hair. That's why, when I get my "fillers" going, repeating a phrase over and over in my head, if I'm reinforcing it by tapping out an accompanying beat with my finger or thumb, I always hide my hand.
I've been in such denial about my dissociation because I was so afraid I was just crazy (just like my homeless father). I so distinctly remember--about 12 years ago--first getting The Courage To Heal and reading some account of a survivor who floated out of her body and witnessed her molestation from the safe distance of her bedroom's ceiling light. At the time, I actually read that and said to myself, "Now that's crazy! I've never done anything like that!" Of course, that was way before I retrieved so many CSA memories--like the fact that I used to dissociate as a young child by pretending I was a turtle safe in my shell, and I would "go to the light" of the bathroom window during the extreme trauma of the abuse and near-death in the shower.
I guess I've been so afraid that my mother could be right: I just have some "chemical imbalance" (as she calls it) like my father. That evil woman! That would be so convenient for her! I don't want it to be anything "organic!" I want my diagnosis to be the result of human-inflicted trauma. YOU DID THIS TO ME!
But, the dissociation does scare me a lot. The voices are especially freaky. I guess that's another reason I thought I was schizo. (I mean no disrespect to individuals who have this disorder. I just have a hard time spelling the entire, correct term.) When I first noticed the voices, I downplayed them. (That's called "minimization," right?) "Oh, yes," I told myself, "this is just an example of those "old tapes" everyone talks about; those mean things my parents told me as a kid." I certainly do have these, like so many survivors do. If it's, "You're too sensitive," then it's my mother. "You're a piece of shit," is my father.
But this voice--these voices--are different. For one thing, they say things that my mother and father didn't say. Also, I don't hear my father's voice, or my mother's. Who is it? One voice is very mean, cruel and nasty, that's for sure.
And the thing that I've finally had to admit is that sometimes...someone answers back! And it's not always the same type of response or the same "person" answering back, either. Sometimes it's a scared little girl who is all apologetic: "Okay. I'm sorry." Other times, it's an in-your-face, angry teenager: "Just shut up!" Other times (I've noticed more recently) it's a wise, calm voice of someone aware: "Now, that's not helpful. We're not going to talk like that."
Then there are the regressions. I've noticed these for a long time (six or seven years). It's one of the reasons I feel compelled to run away sometimes--I don't want my son to see me in that state. I used to think of them all as strictly flashbacks. But, I'm coming to realize that some of the regressions don't seem to be related to any memory at all.
When I was reading "Stranger," one regression caught me by surprise. I was sitting on the bed in the hotel and my butt started getting numb, so I decided to take a break and get something to drink. Of course, to be honest, there was a fear factor. I was just about to take the "Identity Confusion" test in the book. I was standing in my hotel room's kitchenette and I started to unravel.
Sometimes, I can almost, literally, feel myself getting small. I quickly ran back to the bed and grabbed my cozy blanket and stuffed animal. I began to rock. This is not unusual. What happened next most definitely was.
I could hear someone saying, "I no bad girl. I good girl. Please, no. No hurt. No, no, no!" I could feel my lips moving, but it wasn't really me.
Just as I was trying to be present in some way and wrap my brain around what was happening, I heard another voice. This one was inside my head. My lips weren't moving this time and the voice was new to me. It was a young woman's voice. She very calmly and clearly stated, "Nina comes out when we're in the shower."
Whoa!! What?! Who the hell is Nina? I don't know who that is.
To tell the truth, on and off now for a while, I've half expected to discover "personalities" and expected them to have the inner child names I "came up with" when I was doing inner child work with a therapist back in Illinois. There's Tina. She's tiny--maybe two or three. There's Marsha; a little bit older, I think. Then, there's Sarah. She's about eight and is starting to get very cynical and mistrusting. She's always on guard. I think Rena is a rebellious teenager, and then there's Samantha who is older--a young woman. I've never let myself get to know Rena or Samantha much. Honestly, Rena scares the crap out of me.
But, this Nina? I have no idea who she is at all. I can, however, guess why her name ends in "A" like all the others. My twin sister's name ends in "A." She got the pretty goddess name and I got stuck with the old lady name, Marjorie. I've always hated that name. Marj is better, but I've never really liked it either.
Then there's the "person" who absolutely hates my husband. I feel so guilty about it. He's been so loyal and good to me. I hate to admit any part hates him. But, it's important. I just know this person had a major role in the "leaving my husband" plan. It was very frightening the other night. Back here at home now, I woke up about four in the morning. This in itself is not unusual when I'm going through a period of not sleeping well. What was freaky was that I awoke and immediately felt like someone else. I've never been aware of anything like this before. It's a weird thing to wake up to/with.
This person who I was realized she was lying next to my husband. She hates him! She doesn't want to be here. Here's what kinda went on in my head following: "OK. Get a grip. I'm not going to fly out of this bed and run away at 4:00 a.m. Shit! This is why I was in the hotel. I'm trapped in this place! OK. Calm down. Who is this?" It wasn't like I was asking anyone. I was just thinking, and trying to figure it out, right?
My answer came when I had a thought: "It's Lisa." I didn't hear any voice this time. It was just me coming up with a logical choice of who it could be. But, Lisa? Who the hell is she? Well, I don't know at the moment. But, thankfully, I think I've found a skilled therapist who knows about dissociation. With her help, I feel hopeful. I feel hopeful that, whoever Lisa (or Nina) is, she can help me more than hurt me.
I'm not going to turn away this time. I'm not going to turn on my brain "fillers" and say, "La, La, La! I can't hear you!" I'm going to listen and find out, finally, who I really am, what I'm dealing with, and where I'm going. I hope there are still some blogger friends out there, hanging on, and willing to be with me for what is probably going to be a very long, strange trip.
My new therapist does not seem afraid, freaked out, or intimidated at all by any of this. I've had a few phone conversations and two face-to-face interviews with her. She seems up to the task. That's why I've chosen her. She also seems very understanding, compassionate and optimistic. I really need that type of help right now. She says that I've always had help and I'm lucky that way. She says I've created my own help...and that's a good thing. I'm gonna try my best to start seeing it that way.
Labels: alters, awareness, child abuse, child parts, DID, dissociation, grounding, holidays, inner child, safety, self-help books, self-injury, system, therapy, trauma processing, triggers
March 01, 2006
Sexual Abuse Survivors--Today is Self-Injury Awareness Day
Today, March 1st, is Self-Injury Awareness Day (SIAD). It is one of the major projects of the ASHIC, American Self-Harm Information Clearinghouse, www.selfinjury.org. The clearinghouse website debunks many of the myths surrounding self-injury (SI), also known as self-harm or self-mutilation. I've got some more SI links for you after my story.
I'm writing a new section of my survivor story. What a journey it has been. "What a long, strange trip it's been," the Grateful Dead sang. Indeed, it has been. I've started a new page on my website, www.survivorscanthrive.com, called "Strange Trip." You can find it under "My Story."
Since today is Self-Injury Awareness Day, I guess it's time to come clean about my own experience with SI. I have only indulged in this particular form of harming myself a handful of times. It's been the same every time. Always on the alert for any visible sign that might prove to others that I'm crazy, I've kept it well-hidden. I've always been afraid that someone's going to find out that I'm just as whacko as my father and lock me away. Therefore, I have never cut. I have always scratched and I've always done it somewhere that would not be very noticeable.
Hell, while we're discussing things that I'm ashamed of, I might as well weave my SI story into the time when I felt like I was abandoning my son. You see, during the most intense phases of my recovery work--when I was doing trauma processing with my therapist twice a week--I needed to have a safe place to get away and stay. I was sleeping at an extended stay suite at the time. I had my reasons for doing this.
My son, who has always been a very intense child, has sensory integration dysfunction. This leads to a lot of discomfort with strong reactions such as loud crying, screeching and yelling. During this period, this type of behavior from my son would launch me into full-blown flashbacks where I was witnessing the horror of my beloved, little twin sister being tortured and there was nothing I could do about it. At this time, my son's screams became the pleading, begging and whimpering of my sister. I just had to have a place of escape, where I could get grounded and keep safe.
During my time in the suite, I got a lot of therapy homework and exercises done, as well as much reading, research and writing of my book. (It will be published some day.) It was a productive time. It was also an excruciatingly lonely time for me.
One day, I felt particularly lonely and unloved. It happened to be my birthday. I was going to go to the house for a visit later on in the evening of my birthday anyway, so I decided to drive down a bit early. I remembered that my husband and my son had a play to go to or some such event. But, I reasoned, I could visit and play with my son and while they'd be gone, I could hang out, use the Internet access and celebrate when they returned.
When I arrived, I let myself into the house and announced, "Hey, I'm here!" No response. The house was very quiet, but I knew somebody was home. I peered into the kitchen. There were my husband and son sitting at the kitchen table. David appeared to be giving our son another lecture. They both looked up at me, but neither offered a greeting or got up to meet me. I could almost hear my heart drop, "Clunk!"
I glanced around the kitchen. There were no flowers, wrapped presents, balloons, or cute, little hand-made things from my young son. Nothing. I pretended I needed to go to the bathroom. I looked further around the house. I feigned thirst. I looked in the fridge. Nope. No cake in there either. There were no signs to indicate that they had any birthday celebrating planned. What?! Had they forgotten that it was my birthday? I felt lower than low. I felt completely unloved, alone and unlovable.
I went and hid in the bathroom (I did this a lot in my heavy dissociation days). I stayed there while the guys left for their event. Maybe they would grab some flowers and a little cake from the grocery store while they were out. No! I decided that would be too little, too late. I began to scream at myself while I hit myself in the head with the heel of my hand (another form of SI). "Stupid!" I yelled. "I am stupid and nobody loves me!" I decided I didn't want my son to see me go psycho. I also felt sure that he was better off without me.
I ran for the car and sped away. Luckily, this time, I did not run away; I didn't have to (my husband was paying for the hotel, my safe place). I went straight back to my little lonely suite. I did not bother to turn on any lights. I went into the bedroom and flung myself onto the floor in a dark, safe corner. There I stayed for a long time, curled up in the fetal position and rocking myself. I didn't want to feel anything. I wanted to disappear.
But, the negative self-talk that went on in my head was ruthless. The dark, the rocking, the safe corner, nothing could keep it at bay. It kept repeating mean things like, "Nobody loves you. You're not worth loving. You don't deserve to be happy."
After an unknown amount of time passed, I began to scratch. I found a place on my neck, under my hair and just below the hairline. I scratched rhythmically as I continued to rock myself. I scratched and scratched until I felt the warm, wet blood on my fingertips. "There, see?" I told myself. "I do bleed. I am alive. I matter...at least this much." This seemed to make the ruthless chatter subside.
After a while, I got up out of my corner to go to the bathroom. I turned on the light and saw the dried blood crusted under my fingernails. I immediately felt ashamed and shitty about myself. But, it was still better than how I had felt before I drew blood from my neck.
This was my last SI incident. It was over two years ago. This is my first detailed communication about it. I tried to tell someone about the SI once when I was hospitalized for my PTSD, but the person didn't take the time to listen. I looked at the note in my chart. It said, "Breaks her fingernails." I wanted to scream at this imbecile, "No! I use my fingernails to scratch my skin until I bleed!" I felt unheard and invalidated. I never attempted to broach the SI subject again.
Fortunately, the trauma processing I've done over the last couple of years seems to have targeted some of the old feelings of being worthless and invisible. I think that has carried over to my SI because I've had no temptation at all to do it. I hope that temptation never comes back.
Here are those SI links I promised. Two of the largest SI resources on the web are from the UK. The Self-Injury International Internet Service, www.siari.com.uk, says its the "largest self-injury resource on the web." Life SIGNS, www.lifesigns.org.uk, offers self-injury guidance and network support.
At the website www.psyke.org, you can find an SI forum with over 4,000 registered users. You can also post personal stories and poetry there. Recover Your Life, www.recoveryourlife.com, has an even larger forum, with over 7,000 members. This site offers live chat and live assistance and a first aid guide. You can also post biographies, artwork, photos, poetry and lyrics there.
I do not see self-injury as being the same thing as attempts at suicide. This suicide prevention site, however, has a large SI resource area. The organization is called Befrienders at www.befrienders.org. Their motto: "Reduce suicide worldwide with 31,000 volunteers in 40 countries." Suicide is an issue for survivors, whether they self-harm or not. So, I post this site here.
Copyright 2006 Marj McCabe ~ All Rights Reserved
I'm writing a new section of my survivor story. What a journey it has been. "What a long, strange trip it's been," the Grateful Dead sang. Indeed, it has been. I've started a new page on my website, www.survivorscanthrive.com, called "Strange Trip." You can find it under "My Story."
Since today is Self-Injury Awareness Day, I guess it's time to come clean about my own experience with SI. I have only indulged in this particular form of harming myself a handful of times. It's been the same every time. Always on the alert for any visible sign that might prove to others that I'm crazy, I've kept it well-hidden. I've always been afraid that someone's going to find out that I'm just as whacko as my father and lock me away. Therefore, I have never cut. I have always scratched and I've always done it somewhere that would not be very noticeable.
Hell, while we're discussing things that I'm ashamed of, I might as well weave my SI story into the time when I felt like I was abandoning my son. You see, during the most intense phases of my recovery work--when I was doing trauma processing with my therapist twice a week--I needed to have a safe place to get away and stay. I was sleeping at an extended stay suite at the time. I had my reasons for doing this.
My son, who has always been a very intense child, has sensory integration dysfunction. This leads to a lot of discomfort with strong reactions such as loud crying, screeching and yelling. During this period, this type of behavior from my son would launch me into full-blown flashbacks where I was witnessing the horror of my beloved, little twin sister being tortured and there was nothing I could do about it. At this time, my son's screams became the pleading, begging and whimpering of my sister. I just had to have a place of escape, where I could get grounded and keep safe.
During my time in the suite, I got a lot of therapy homework and exercises done, as well as much reading, research and writing of my book. (It will be published some day.) It was a productive time. It was also an excruciatingly lonely time for me.
One day, I felt particularly lonely and unloved. It happened to be my birthday. I was going to go to the house for a visit later on in the evening of my birthday anyway, so I decided to drive down a bit early. I remembered that my husband and my son had a play to go to or some such event. But, I reasoned, I could visit and play with my son and while they'd be gone, I could hang out, use the Internet access and celebrate when they returned.
When I arrived, I let myself into the house and announced, "Hey, I'm here!" No response. The house was very quiet, but I knew somebody was home. I peered into the kitchen. There were my husband and son sitting at the kitchen table. David appeared to be giving our son another lecture. They both looked up at me, but neither offered a greeting or got up to meet me. I could almost hear my heart drop, "Clunk!"
I glanced around the kitchen. There were no flowers, wrapped presents, balloons, or cute, little hand-made things from my young son. Nothing. I pretended I needed to go to the bathroom. I looked further around the house. I feigned thirst. I looked in the fridge. Nope. No cake in there either. There were no signs to indicate that they had any birthday celebrating planned. What?! Had they forgotten that it was my birthday? I felt lower than low. I felt completely unloved, alone and unlovable.
I went and hid in the bathroom (I did this a lot in my heavy dissociation days). I stayed there while the guys left for their event. Maybe they would grab some flowers and a little cake from the grocery store while they were out. No! I decided that would be too little, too late. I began to scream at myself while I hit myself in the head with the heel of my hand (another form of SI). "Stupid!" I yelled. "I am stupid and nobody loves me!" I decided I didn't want my son to see me go psycho. I also felt sure that he was better off without me.
I ran for the car and sped away. Luckily, this time, I did not run away; I didn't have to (my husband was paying for the hotel, my safe place). I went straight back to my little lonely suite. I did not bother to turn on any lights. I went into the bedroom and flung myself onto the floor in a dark, safe corner. There I stayed for a long time, curled up in the fetal position and rocking myself. I didn't want to feel anything. I wanted to disappear.
But, the negative self-talk that went on in my head was ruthless. The dark, the rocking, the safe corner, nothing could keep it at bay. It kept repeating mean things like, "Nobody loves you. You're not worth loving. You don't deserve to be happy."
After an unknown amount of time passed, I began to scratch. I found a place on my neck, under my hair and just below the hairline. I scratched rhythmically as I continued to rock myself. I scratched and scratched until I felt the warm, wet blood on my fingertips. "There, see?" I told myself. "I do bleed. I am alive. I matter...at least this much." This seemed to make the ruthless chatter subside.
After a while, I got up out of my corner to go to the bathroom. I turned on the light and saw the dried blood crusted under my fingernails. I immediately felt ashamed and shitty about myself. But, it was still better than how I had felt before I drew blood from my neck.
This was my last SI incident. It was over two years ago. This is my first detailed communication about it. I tried to tell someone about the SI once when I was hospitalized for my PTSD, but the person didn't take the time to listen. I looked at the note in my chart. It said, "Breaks her fingernails." I wanted to scream at this imbecile, "No! I use my fingernails to scratch my skin until I bleed!" I felt unheard and invalidated. I never attempted to broach the SI subject again.
Fortunately, the trauma processing I've done over the last couple of years seems to have targeted some of the old feelings of being worthless and invisible. I think that has carried over to my SI because I've had no temptation at all to do it. I hope that temptation never comes back.
Here are those SI links I promised. Two of the largest SI resources on the web are from the UK. The Self-Injury International Internet Service, www.siari.com.uk, says its the "largest self-injury resource on the web." Life SIGNS, www.lifesigns.org.uk, offers self-injury guidance and network support.
At the website www.psyke.org, you can find an SI forum with over 4,000 registered users. You can also post personal stories and poetry there. Recover Your Life, www.recoveryourlife.com, has an even larger forum, with over 7,000 members. This site offers live chat and live assistance and a first aid guide. You can also post biographies, artwork, photos, poetry and lyrics there.
I do not see self-injury as being the same thing as attempts at suicide. This suicide prevention site, however, has a large SI resource area. The organization is called Befrienders at www.befrienders.org. Their motto: "Reduce suicide worldwide with 31,000 volunteers in 40 countries." Suicide is an issue for survivors, whether they self-harm or not. So, I post this site here.
Copyright 2006 Marj McCabe ~ All Rights Reserved
Labels: aftermath, awareness, birthdays, comfort, dissociation, PTSD, self-esteem, self-injury, therapy, trance states
