thinking

i'm up late tonight for several reasons. the reason i'm *still* up is that we went grocery shopping last friday and didn't wind up cooking some chickens that were on sale really cheap (like 49 cents a pound cheap!) and rather than risk them going bad, w and i decided it made the most sense to go ahead and cook them tonight. and since i don't have to get up as early as she does, i'm the one doing the cooking.

we got home late, which caused the whole chicken discussion to happen at 10:30, because of our flaky couples' therapist, who rescheduled our appointment from 6 to 7. that alone wouldn't have gotten us home late, except that i was having serious panic and couldn't get onto the train. we tried... waited for at least three trains, and i just couldn't manage it. so w eventually suggested that we take a cab instead. on the one hand, this was a good idea. if i'm panicking to the point of being suicidal over getting on the train it really doesn't make sense to get on the train. on the other hand...

i feel really ashamed of the fact that i get suicidal over things like being in crowds. i mean, there isn't a good reason for it. i'm not actually in danger. i feel like i should just make myself cope. i feel like i should be *able* to cope. and i can't. there are things i can do. i pop rescue remedy like it's going out of style. i listen to music, i read, i do things to do healthy dissociation so that i'm able to get past the panic and get onto the train. i do a lot of positive self-talk: i remind myself that the train is safe, that it's ok for people to be on the same section as me, that it's not dangerous to have people stand near me. that i won't get hurt just because someone is standing in the same section where i am waiting. that it's not an aggressive thing for them to be doing. that they probably aren't even noticing me.

but really. normal people don't have to feel proud of themselves just because they managed to get onto the train. normal people don't freak out when someone else starts walking on the same sidewalk where they are walking. and i *know* that i used to manage all of that all right. but then i remember the times when i couldn't, like the times i wound up freaking out on planes because i didn't have a window seat, or all of the little things i've done for years to reduce anxiety.

see, the downside of dissociating less is that when i start to feel panic, i actually feel it. over the years, i've gotten less good at automatic dissociation.

and it's frustrating. i know that when i was growing up, i dealt with all kinds of things that were objectively way more stressful. and they didn't send me into suicidal... not exactly depression. it's panic to the point where death seems like a way better option, where it feels like there's absolutely no other way out.

someone inside had a good analogy for it, how i tip over so easily into feeling suicidal. it's like there's a cup, where things that need to be coped with are drops or splashes of water, and when the cup overflows, suicidal feelings spill out. for me, the cup is really small. on a good day, i can cope with whatever comes. but if the cup is getting filled up with things, even something pretty minor will make it overflow.

the good thing is, therapy over the past couple of years has gotten me to a point where the suicidal feelings don't last as long. it used to take longer for me to tip over into "suicidal," but then it would last for months. now, it doesn't take much at all, but it's over in hours or days. i suppose that's a good thing.

i just wish i could get to a point where i didn't tip over into suicidal at all.

and i guess another good thing is this is one more thing for me to think about at the times when i feel guilty for applying for social security: normal people, people who are coping well, don't actually have to struggle against suicidal feelings just to get onto the train, or to drive down the street.

it's not weakness, laziness, or any of that that is making me not be able to do the things i need to get done. if i could stop these feelings, i really *would* stop them. but i can't do it on willpower. and i don't need to be ashamed for my failure to stifle the feelings that make it so hard for me to do daily tasks.

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memories and monsters

had an interesting conversation (does it count as a conversation if it's all in my own head?) with the part who was out in therapy yesterday. not quite sure who it is. maybe one of the nonnys, but not completely sure. i think she's probably eight or nine, just based on the images i get when she thinks about things.

anyhow, she'd been talking with my therapist about how it is really dangerous to play, and how it's like there is a certain number of times you can play when nothing will happen, and you never know how many times that is, but if you play one too many times, then it will make the bad thing happen. same with not remembering all of the little things they do to keep safe.

her logic as to why things haven't been as bad since i left home is that maybe they just got better at being able to be careful, and if they *stop* being careful, then the bad things will happen.

after therapy, i was trying to get a sense of what exactly they mean, when they worry about "bad things." and this one gave me some interesting information. i don't think that they actually experienced the abuse directly. from the perspective of some of these parts--the ones who are super careful about following lots of "rules" and stuff like that--what they experience is this:

they miss some particular step or magic thing or make some kind of mistake. then they feel dread and fear about what is going to happen. then they "wake up" in pain, or they have more "nightmares."

and the thing is? i have fibromyalgia. i wake up in pain a LOT of the time. so now i'm trying to explain to them the difference between how i wake up in a lot of pain now, and it's not the same as when they were little. i point out that i *don't* wake up with bruises i don't know the origins of, that kind of thing. but... it's hard to explain the difference, because to them, it seems pretty similar.

what's funny is, they don't seem fazed by pain if they know where it's coming from. i was weirded out yesterday because i seemed to have a blister that i didn't remember, and then all the kids told me where it came from, and they didn't mind that at all.

and the nightmares... if all they remember is "nightmares," how can i explain that the things that happened when they were little weren't the same? that *those* things actually were happening, but the terrors they have *now* of nightmares are memories, and not actual "monsters."

but at least now i have more of a sense of why they are so nervous.

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flashback

trying to process through a particularly intense flashback i had this afternoon. not really sure why it was as intense as it was, but then, who knows about these things?

so i was standing there, washing dishes. this is an activity that is often pretty triggering, and i know perfectly well why (lots of abuse around doing jobs perfectly; also abuse that happened simply because i was there in the kitchen, where someone might notice me.)

as i was washing, almost done with the task, i found myself flinching, braced as someone hit me. i turned slightly, so i'd be able to predict where the next blow was going to fall, and so i wouldn't instinctively try to lift my arm to protect myself. and somehow, i managed to notice that i was in my kitchen now, that this wasn't really happening.

i think part of what made it more intense than usual was the combination of circumstances. i was stressed when i started washing the dishes (although less so than i've been for a lot of this week). there were my hands in the water, washing dishes, checking to make sure the various plastic ones were getting fully cleaned. and i was listening to a song i listened to a *lot* when i was a teenager (Go On, by Russ Taff). so there were a lot of signals that brought up memories.

trying to remember what i was thinking about right before the flashback, and i really can't think what it was. nothing that is out of the ordinary for when i am washing dishes, and not feeling especially trigger-y (because i have learned that if i'm feeling trigger-y, washing dishes is not one of my better options). i hadn't even dropped something, which often brings up a flashback.

my sense of it is that much of what made this flashback as intense as it was, is that several parts experienced it simultaneously.

often, with a flashback, i only get part of the experience. for me, it's often mostly emotional. i know that the little kids, especially, get ones that are mostly physical (a more intense version of body memories, from what i can tell). some parts get ones that are mostly memories, as though they are watching something happen.

i also suspect that part of what made it feel different was the fact that at least one of the adults was nearby as it came. or so i suspect.

afterwards, after i had grounded back into the present, and decided to go ahead and wash the last couple of dishes, even though i was feeling kind of overwhelmed by the flashback... one of the parts who has been out recently commented on something. she was feeling kind of... dismissive of some things. i don't know. but she said something about how one reason the adults haven't been around lately is that for them, they would rather be dead than admit they can't handle things, or that they are not doing a perfect job with everything in their lives. (perfect in their world, which means... not necessarily perfect, but doing all the right things, and trying hard, and overcoming adversity. admirable is maybe a better word?)

i'd like to deny this, that the reason the adults haven't been around is because they can't handle imperfection, that they really would choose suicide over this, and that it's not just their insistence on continuing to function that has made other parts block them out, but *also* the fact that the adults would be more inclined towards suicide, if they were unable to enforce that perfect-ness.

and yet, i do remember a conversation i had with cleo last winter. she was incredibly distressed over me being dropped from my phd program. she was really feeling suicidal, as though this failure was... life-threatening. and i can remember someone (me, another part? i don't remember) pointing out how, we wound up where we are because the choice seemed like we could risk suicide, or we could continue being functional (in the sense of doing a lot of work, and managing without more than minimal help, and doing everything well), but at the time, the two were incompatible. and we asked, "so would you rather be dead than fail to be perfect?" and her response was an unequivocal "YES!"

so i can't deny that it's true, at least about cleo.

it's been hard for me to start to see that, for all they seemed so functional, the adults in this system really aren't perfect. they aren't actually more functional, even. they just appear to be so.

not sure what the point of this post was.

i have been meaning to write a totally different post about the song i linked to above. it's a good song, even if you don't normally like christian rock. the message is pretty simple, and for those who aren't into all the "god stuff," there isn't an overwhelming amount in it.

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religion

i keep starting this post and erasing it and starting it over. i guess the problem is that there are several things i want to blog about, and i can't get them in order. or maybe there is more than one part trying to get something said? that might be why i'm thinking four or five separate things at the same time.

so what's the point of this post about religion? i guess to just write about some of what's going on for me right now.

first, there's the whole RA thing. i am relatively certain i didn't experience ritual abuse. but this is a hard time for people who did, and there's this... backlash, i guess. where i feel guilty talking about the things i enjoy about this season, because i know that some of it is really triggering to other people.

so i get mad--that there are these jerks in the world who do what they can to pervert and ruin holidays for little kids. i mean, what the hell? (um, sorry, i'll address that later....)

and the thing is, spiritually, i'm most comfortable as a pagan. and here we are, with the spring equinox falling on a full moon. this should be a happy, positive thing. i should be able to feel free to talk about rebirth and all of that. i should be able to feel comfortable with writing about my pagan experiences.

but because of those a$$holes who do things and abuse kids on a seasonal calendar, i feel like i need to be super-careful talking about pagan holidays, because even more so than the christian ones, the pagan ones got taken over by those jerks who are using them for really evil purposes. this is more of an issue for me around samhain/halloween/pagan new year. and even MORE so around winter solstice/christmas/yule. i'm generally more casual about the spring holidays (well, more on that later, too). but there's the whole ritual abuse thing, and i really don't want to go around doing the equivalent of kicking people where they're already bruised, so i don't write about it.

so there's that part.

and then there's where i am, religiously. i was raised christian. i was raised christian in the kinds of churches that just weren't really... uplifting. the kind where your experience of christianity is a whole lot of judging and shaming and all of that. the kind of churches that justify what i can now recognize as child abuse, but which they insisted was just parents trying to raise "godly" children. the kind of churches that say to stay in an abusive marriage because it's god's will, and the woman's duty to behave in a way that will "save" her husband, rather than to cut her losses and protect herself and her kids.

the kind of churches that discourage people from doing anything "worldly" like reading books the church hasn't approved, or listening to music the church hasn't approved, or really, doing anything that gives evidence of really enjoying the world, or thinking outside of the incredibly narrow little box the church defines for them. i don't just mean "don't drink, smoke, or chew, or run with those who do." i'm talking about "christian rock is evil because it's too worldly. you should only listen to music *we* say is ok." and "don't read anything ungodly, like (i kid you not!) c.s. lewis, madeleine l'engle, susan cooper, or, heaven FORBID, j.r.r. tolkien." (for those who haven't read them, these are all deeply christian writers of pretty darned christian fantasy novels.) i mean, seriously, my churches when i was growing up thought these books would lead us into sin.

the kind of churches where they spend weeks in sunday school teaching little eight year olds about the book of revelations, and how good christians will have to suffer and starve because they won't be raptured until after the tribulation, but they won't be able to buy food or anything because to do that you'll have to get the mark of the beast, so you and your family will starve to death and not be able to have anything, and go through a whole lot of terror and suffering, just to prove you're worthy of god's love.

now, don't get me wrong. it's not that the people were evil or bad. i totally get that they thought they were doing the right thing. i mean, if you really believe all of that, and you honestly believe that there is only one way to get to heaven, and it involves a lot of pain and suffering, then maybe you are doing the right thing, by your beliefs, if you push other people to follow impossible rules. i don't know. i guess if i believed that the only way to be saved was to go through pain and misery, and i wanted my children saved, maybe i would do that too. i just don't know. because i can't bring myself to believe in a god who aims for all of the "true believers" to be in pain and suffering. i mean, what would be the point?

but anyhow. what it ends with is that, even though i know there are a lot of devout christians in the world who don't have that worldview, it's hard for me to hear people doing a lot of talking about christianity without all of this being triggered. and so i just kind of shy away from the god-talk, because i feel like my own religion isn't gonna be accepted. (i describe myself religiously as culturally christian, spiritually pagan. and that gets thrown off because in terms of actual practice and religious observance, i'm closer to jewish, because i do that with my partner.)

and because all the god-talk is just triggering to me. but i feel guilty about not reading blogs, because i just can't cope. and i feel alienated from some forums, because even when they call it "spirituality" (or even on totally unrelated threads) lately, it seems like it just turns into this whole christianity thing.

i keep losing track of where i was going. i suppose i could've made an outline and stuff, but i'm just not feeling it.

right. the whole being triggered by christianity thing. i mean, i know that people aren't meaning to be triggering. but there's a level where i feel like... why is it ok to be spouting all of this stuff that is really immensely triggering to me, that brings up all of that guilt and shame and fear and pain.... but i can't even say a little bit about my *own* positive religious experience, because it's too close to things that people are triggered by?

i know i can't be the only person who was abused in a fundamentalist christian context. i can't be the only person who was scarred by the people who did all the god-talk, and were always doing something that i've considered the true meaning of "taking the lord's name in vain" where they bring god into discussions of things that are totally unrelated (like, "i got this toilet paper at 75% off, praise be to god!" ok, that's a *slight* exaggeration. but only slight.)

and i can't explain how it is that *some* people talk about god, and it's not triggering, and other people do, and i want to run out of the room and start screaming.

and then it's even weirder, cause it's not like a bunch of us in this system find nothing of value in christianity.

i mean, i guess religion is like sex. no, really. there are some parts who need to avoid it totally, and there are some parts that have learned it can be a healthy thing, done in a caring and respectful way. and there isn't any one true way.

maybe that's it... some of the people who have been bugging me write in a way that reminds me of the christians who insisted there was one true way (theirs) and no one else was going to get to heaven, and actually, anyone who didn't do it their way was basically either uninformed, or a deliberate sinner.

i really hate the whole attitude of "one true way" pretty much anywhere it shows up. because, honestly, there ISN'T one true way. there are different ways that work for different people, and there's nothing that says any one of them is better than the others.

ok. not sure what my point was, or anything like that, but that's some of what i wanted to write about.

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still having a hard time, and a question

so things are still hard. i guess it's to be expected. or something.

therapy today... very switchy in the first part of the session. as in, i know at least three of us were out, possibly more, but not sure how many my therapist noticed (it's a kind of switching i guess happens a lot in my system--where a bunch of us are cycling through, and we're all more or less aware of what the conversation is, but no one is there for more than a few minutes at a time, so we all just kind of cover it up so things look ok). i know jamie was out for a bit, and ellis, and grace. me too... don't think i have a name? i know i'm not one of those three, and i know i'm not rynn, and i know i'm not one of the little kids. but not sure who that leaves. maybe there's a list somewhere and i can find out. i know i've been around before. i've probably said i was ellis or jamie, or even one of the adults. i don't know. just used to thinking i'm someone else, i guess.

still very switchy. my eyes keep crossing... i think that's evidence of parts coming in and out?

so there was that.

there's also the fact that a new little was out in therapy. not precisely new, except she doesn't have a name yet. but she's one of the "nonnys" we've felt (the "nonnys" are the ones who aren't giving names yet). did some water color paintings, and then talked for a while about religious stuff. that's where the question comes in.

(trigger warning for religious stuff)

anyone have experience helping a little, or an actual little kid, deal with the kind of stuff that comes out of being raised in a really fundamentalist christian church? you know, the whole if you don't follow every single rule of the church then you are going to hell, and people will tempt you down false paths and try to get you to stray and don't read anything the church doesn't approve of, and things like the chronicles of narnia are on the "bad" list because they lead people down false paths and talk about magic.

kid also has some of the experience of physical and sexual abuse, at least, i overheard one of the others saying to her that "that stuff" was bad, even if someone says it was helping her to not give in to satan because she had to learn how not to respond to temptation.

she doesn't want to listen to the rest of us, because anyone who says that the churches she went to are wrong is clearly just trying to lead her astray. going down false paths, stuff like that. giving into worldly temptation.

trying to find things that aren't forbidden by her religious beliefs. wanting toys seems to be evidence of being "worldly." tv is definitely sinning. don't have any "approved" books....

wish she were willing to listen to the rest of us, but we're clearly tainted by sin, because we think that perhaps god doesn't want little kids to suffer. not to mention things like being a lesbian, or the fact that to the extent we practice religion, it's either paganism or judaism.

so there's that going on. plus the body is having a lot of memories (by that i mean, anyone who really gets into the body starts having body memories... combo of sexual abuse, physical abuse, and being force fed, rarely all at once, but in random variations). plus a couple of older ones having memories of physical abuse, both bullying and at home. plus littler ones remembering abuse too.

just wish it would let up for a while.

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some thinking

so, w. and i were talking last night. i've been having a hard time lately. some of it is that a very suicidal part has been close to the surface, and has been in the "magic house" for a while, which has made all the little kids go into hiding, and who knows where the adults have been.

but also, i've been really triggered. i realized last night that some of the being triggered was about my own stuff, and not just the proximity of the suicidal part. because i do get really triggered from being in the position of being someone's partner. and last night, the stuff really came up for me. don't feel like going into the details right now, but i was even crying about it, and i don't usually cry.

i was finally able (i think) to explain to w. that it's not even really about sex. it's about being in a relationship. and she suggested that we try something to help build a little more clarity in our relationship. that thing is, i'll start sleeping in my own room more of the time (i think mostly when the part who is out is not an adult part, but i don't really want to make that choice for the others).

on the one hand, i felt really guilty about that. because, yeah, it feels selfish to say that i shouldn't have to be in the role of an adult in this relationship (individual i, not collective i). and it's a little scary to think i have that right, because of all the things that brings up.... but i also felt guilty because it was just such a RELIEF to decide that. so today went way better than my days have been going lately. i was productive and everything. didn't spend much time sitting playing games online just trying to make it through the day.

okay, so there's all of that. but i was also thinking about how maybe i add to some of the confusion others (especially w) have about whether i should be treated as a teenager or as an adult.

because, here's the thing. in a lot of ways, i really resent the adult responsibilities. it's triggering and overwhelming and all of that. but on the other hand, there are a lot of adult privileges i really don't want to give up.

i mean, what teenager has pretty much total control over the household budget? part of why i am in charge of the bills is that it helps me to not worry so much about whether or not we can pay the bills; part of it is that w. gets really upset and anxious when she has to try to deal with things like bills, so it's less stressful for me (collective me) to do it. but part of the reason i haven't encouraged her to take charge of the bills is that then i wouldn't get to just decide how the money gets spent. i'd have to check with her or have an allowance or something, and that would be a real pain. i mean, it's not like i spend money inappropriately, exactly, it's just that the only limit on my spending is whether or not we have the money. kind of cool, so far as i'm concerned. but me being in charge of the household budget is probably one of those things that contributes to it being really unclear that i'm not a real adult.

another one is smoking. i mean, my body is fully adult, so my legal id shows that i am old enough to get cigarettes (and alcohol for that matter). and there are a lot of reasons i smoke, so it's a hard thing to just say, "oh, i'm going to quit because it's bad for me." especially because the reason i started smoking was as a form of self-harm. there are now more reasons i keep doing it, but the starting reason is still there. so health arguments don't really help.

or there's driving the car. i am the main one who drives (w. is still a nervous and reluctant driver). and even though we'd had a rule for a while that no one under 16 was allowed to drive the car, it really eroded over the summer, and hasn't been back in place. it's another hard one to deal with, since among other things, the car has to be moved every week for alternate side parking (where one side of the street or the other becomes a no parking zone for a couple hours in the middle of the day so they can clean the streets). but there's also the fact that i really like the freedom of just getting in the car and going somewhere when i feel like it.

or lots of other stuff. but i'm starting to wonder whether it's really a good idea for me to have all of the freedoms of being an adult, since maybe it would be better for me to have neither the freedoms nor the responsibilities. i just don't know.

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Crazy

I know, it's not PC to refer to myself as "crazy." But some days are just like that. Today was one of those days. It wasn't that I was sad, or angry, or upset in some way. But the "crazy" felt especially pronounced.

It's hard to put my finger on what was wrong. I suspect it was parts going through some level of trauma, and close to the surface, but not so close they could speak (and, to be honest, I'm still shielded from most of the trauma anyhow). But I did notice that when I allowed my conscious control over my body to relax, my teeth would start chattering, and I would be shaking as though terrified. Anxiety sat in my chest, but didn't reach my mind.

I suppose I could have worked harder to stay "busy," to be "productive." But it's a struggle to do that. I did remember to move the car, and went to a coffee shop for the duration of alternate side parking, and even had good conversations with people there, and forgot for minutes at a time how I was feeling. And I did manage to get a decent dinner made, and dishes washed. So, that far, I was productive.

Oh, and I managed to get a bit of journaling done, some checking in with parts who were able or willing to speak. That's also progress. Commented on some blogs, and some posts on a bulletin board; wrote a note to Kate Bornstein about her book "Hello, Cruel World," which is about alternatives to suicide, and, with a small exception, I would highly recommend (more on that later, in a different post).

But, mostly, I felt my mind spinning around. Different parts kept surfacing and then backing away. Any time I started to do any one thing, different parts would come up to block that from happening. Much chaos and confusion and feeling a bit... not overwhelmed, since it's a feeling I'm used to.

The only word to describe it is "crazy." My particular brand of crazy. Half-seeing one child part desperately building block houses so she can imagine hiding inside of them. Hearing another one counting everything she sees, listening to every single sound, sorting through to make sure she is safe. The teen parts ranting or arguing or just nagging for things they want. Angry parts yelling at me to be more productive, sad parts wishing they could convince me to curl up in a dark closet and nap for the rest of my life.... Yeah, a really crazy day.

Strangely, though, while it was difficult, it was also not so bad. I know what's going on, I feel able to get through. And I know I'm on the road to feeling better, and that the choices I am making now are the right ones. So that was all right, at least.

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Flashbacks

The angle of a shadow, the brief touch against my body, the quality of light, a smell.

And all of a sudden, I want to run away, hide, lock doors, sob, throw up, lash out.

I don't remember anything, in the sense where "remember" means "know of specific events that cause me to feel like that when something happens." I hear the voices of parts, chiming in to say, "This happened to me, that happened, it was bad, it was hard." But it's so separate from my self, the me that is writing. I don't remember these things, I have no conscious knowledge. I know of some things that happened, and I can use reason and logic to determine that it's likely other things happened. But it's separate from me.

I tell myself, "You wouldn't have flashbacks if nothing happened." "You wouldn't feel like this, if there were no reason." But it's so hard to believe. My mind leaps and contorts, trying to figure out a way that I could just be imagining, could just be misinterpreting the past. Because it seems so unbelievable that it could have happened to me. It's so hard to accept that my family could contain such a large secret as that. Things that happened over and over, year after year.

There was no predicting what would make it happen. When I was little, I thought that saying my prayers every night would keep away the nightmares--the breathing, the weight, the feeling of pressure, the sense that everything was out of control.

Often, after flashbacks, my mind shows me image after image of violated locks. Locks that were broken and destroyed, over and over as I was growing up. There was no way I could consistently keep a door locked, keep a space where I was the only one on my side of a door. I can understand this, because I remember those locks, and I remember the despair I felt when they were broken. But the lingering echoes of why those locks were so very important, that's harder to accept.

But what advantage would I gain, from making this up? Nightmares? Wanting to throw up when I'm touched? Distance from my partner? Inability to just get on with my life and do the things I really want to do? I can't see any reason for making it up, but it's so hard to accept that it's real.

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