Living with MPD

One of the issues with having multiple personalities is that so many emotions have been hidden for so long a time when you become an adult, you have no idea how to handle them. Some emotions you don’t know how to name. In the hospital we would have to tackle this issue daily. We’d name our ‘mood’ for the day and coming up with a name to fit a mood was sometimes the hardest part of someone’s day.

I have issues with anger. I don’t get angry. I get frustrated but I don’t explore the avenues of anger that most do. On the few times I did get angry I would cut myself. Self-harm was the only solution I could find to get rid of the shame of having anger as a feeling. I think this came from my abusers being angry people. I didn’t want to be like them. I never want to feel what they felt. It would take me too close to be compared and it always hurts to think of that.

But, I know now that I must find a way to get angry, besides hurting myself. I had the urge to cut tonight. I was trying to talk to my husband about his frustration about his day. I was trying to say that I supported him and wanted to walk with him and hold his hand through it. What came out of my mouth wasn’t mean, just condecending. It was not what my head was trying to say but only my mouth saying things that came from someone else. It is so hard to explain how this happens. The process of feeling like I’m at the back of a room full of people. We all have something to say and the person up front is the only one allowed to talk. They say things I’d NEVER say in this situation but I cannot help it. I sit with my mouth unable to speak. My words, my thoughts, lost in some confusion as they speak things I cannot feel or understand.

I lost control when this happened tonight and I threw a butterknife I was using to butter some garlic bread across the room. I then stomped out (like a child) and walked into the bathroom and had a fit. I kicked a bag of clothes that was to go to a donation site until I couldn’t kick anymore…and then I broke down. I did have the urge to cut. I did think of how much easier it would be and how much more hidden my feelings would be (making me feel more in control) if I could just cut. But, like an alcoholic, I realize that’s not the end. It would only cycle and become worse. I didn’t cut. I cried.

Yes, I felt ashamed for getting mad and showing my anger. I hated every bit of it but I do admit it felt good to get the anger out. To release something I have held in so much for so long. If I can learn to do this more I think the anger will come under control. It’s like releasing it a little at a time. Slowly decompressing years of ‘being in control’ of all my emotions.

I’m trying and this is just another step. I did have to take a medication to calm me down – bring me down…but I know with gradual practice these issues will be small in comparison. I will look back and see how far I’ve come.

It’s going to be one of those days. I have a post due on a site I write for by tomorrow and I have two ideas but I have yet to place them on virtual paper. I know it will get done, it always does. I think my personality named ‘bysshe’ is the one that comes out so eloquently and verses up some stuff so that I don’t look so bad. She is, after all, my ‘poetess’. I already talked about my lack of sleep and now it’s hitting 1:30PM and I haven’t eaten a thing. I’m readying myself to fix something — anything — after this post. That will probably help me in my writing desires a bit.

Living on coffee when you don’t usually drink coffee is probably not a good thing. I feel like that cat over there…I describe it as Tennyson somtimes does “calm despair” but you might view it differently. *wink*

My head feels crowded with things to say. Sometimes that’s the problem with having this MPD. I have so many things I want to say and I don’t end up getting any of it out. It’s like trying to view a few people on a merry-go-round. Each one says one word they want to get out as they pass by. You have to make sense of the sentences. Does that describe it for you enough?

femme, another alter, is all up in my face about how she needs a smoke…and I don’t smoke nor do I care to indulge her. I think, instead, I will eat a good healthy snack/meal/bite, lay down for a nap to make up for all the lost sleep, wake up and write a fresh post for tomorrows deadline — and then I might just give you an update on what I actually DID get done.

Poor cat. Poor Cat.

Don’t forget to visit Dawn – she has only 1d 16h 49m left on my blog and I want her to feel welcome until the end of her required/desired stay. Click!

It’s like this. I wake up to let the dogs out because they are stirring around the bedroom, keeping me awake. I step outside — it’s crisp, let me tell you. My daughter comes downstairs with a fever so I give her some medication, a glass of water and brush her hair (she just needed some love). I then hear her say that our cat, Jinxy, that does not go outside, is — outside. I open the window and she will not come to me (she’s partially blind and totally stupid) so I climb out my own window, grab the cat and come into the house. I add some wood on the fire (wood stove) so we’ll have a warm morning…and I check my e-mail.

My daughter is now in bed. The dogs are alseep behind me. I’ve gotten 3 hours sleep and I’m fighting it now. Someone in my head does NOT want to sleep. My body needs that sleep so I get to sit here and ‘talk to myself’ about how good sleep is. It’s almost like talking to your children. You tell them how important it is that you get sleep. How they will be safe from all the monsters under the bed. You encourage them and sometimes bribe them. I’m doing that now in my head.

I only hope I can get through to them! I’m sleepy and I know my body needs rest. I’ve lost 10 lbs. in 2 weeks and I’m unsure why. I think stress has alot to do with it. I also think writing has helped me TONS during this time. I thank you for commenting on my blog. Makes me feel less crazy to know you’re out there reading sometimes.

Time to go lay down. Even if I cannot sleep.

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I heard a vicious rumor that if you mention Chris Pirillo in your blog that he’ll come review you.  Now, I used to watch TechTV and Chris Pirillo is someone I remember.  I havnen’t had time to watch the show lately but I do miss it.  If Chris Pirillo really does come review my blog, I hope he’s not jealous that the voices talk to me…  *grins*

I was in a hospital that specialized in ‘childhood trauma’ (sexual abuse in childhood) and we had visitors come and go — but the regulars were in for at least 30 days. We had our little crew of psycho’s that hung out together in the smoking room. We would devise plans on how to get more snacks, how to make the new nurse have a bad day (she was mean!), what patient was garnering for attention that day…and other assorted useless gossip. This room was our special place to tell our secrets. To open up to each other and find out just how crazy we were.

On this one day, we had a visitor come in that was supposed to be in the detox. unit next door, but she was with us temporarily for one night due to bed shortages on that side. She was a smoker and sauntered into the room to have her cigarette. We were already checking her out to see who she was and being cautious – because that’s what abused people usually do.

Being the social one, I greeted her and showed her how to use the awkward lighter attached to the wall. She sat down and took a long drag from her cigarette. You could tell she’d been through alot to get here and was ready to just crash. She asked a few of us why we were ‘in’ and the majority mentioned somewhere in our response that we were in the ‘childhood trauma’ unit.

The girl then said, “How many people get hit or have accidents to the head and have to come here, anyhow? I thought hospitals would treat that. Are your cases bad, then?”

Let me explain, again. Childhood Trauma meant ‘sexual abuse survivors’. We all thought…paused…and I grinned and said — “everyone here has something wrong with their head and is getting treated.” We all nodded and when she left we busted out laughing.

Hey, at least I was honest!

This one’s great…I have a nephew that has a shirt (he’s a twin and they both wear cute message shirts) that says, “I make stuff up”…this has EVERYTHING To do with that.

Copied from a site that copied it from Pie:

If you read this… if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don’t speak often or don’t really know each other)….. Your job, your mission, nay – even your new goal in life is to post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. (I don’t want the REAL stuff getting out, now…)

It can be anything you want – good or bad. It can be about that time when I spent the night with you in the South American jail because you got drunk and tried to pick up on a cop…. or it could be about that night that you and I hopped on railroad cars and rode clear across Kentucky… BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you’re finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON’T ACTUALLY remember about you! So, go to it! I’m looking forward to the trip down memory lane…

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On another note, I added a RadioBlog to my site (completely seperate page and opens in a new window) on the left sidebar — right now, I know, it’s all Poe songs but I like’em and that’ll change today. I plan on adding a few of my favorite songs.

And, I got two smacks from I Talk 2 Much ‘s site.  I did a few of the requested improvements but the rest I’m pleased with for now so it’s not changing.  Thanks Princess Pottymouth for the review!  I’m always hoping to keep the site fresh and uncluttered.  Kinda like my mind?

_{I don’t know who submitted me…hahaha.  <--- The trouble with personalities?}