Catch up of sorts

I am absolutely going to move. I'm looking into ways to break my lease. I am going insane here. Thankfully video game guy just FINALLY stopped at 9PM. I'll see if it lasts. I'm not sure if he stopped or just finally turned it down but it was so loud I could hear/feel it without my implant on and it was annoying repetitive crappy shit. My lease is up in December and moving that time of year sucks in this state. I can't stand the noise here anymore. I had to get in a fight with the leasing office to get them to send out an email about the person who's alarm wakes me up at 3AM. I'd asked them to send an email out about it before and they never did. I called them again a few weeks ago and they said they would send one out. A week later I called and asked why it hadn't been sent again. Turns out the one they sent before didn't mention alarm clocks, just general noise issues. I told them they needed to put alarm clocks in it specifically because no one will connect that with general noise. After a lot of arguing with them they finally did so. This is my second night home so we'll see how that goes as it isn't a daily occurrence but its enough to be annoying. The video game music tonight was bad enough that I nearly went to my mother's to sleep and get away from it.

I'm pretty sure my therapist and psychiatrist will write letters for me to move because the guy below calling the police on me has freaked me out. I don't have an issue with the police but having them randomly show up and then treat me differently due to my hearing loss isn't making me happy. The guy downstairs is incredibly unstable and I don't feel safe when I see him. He's the one who told me last summer that a wolf stole his hamburger meat off his grill. Where I live thats not possible and there were no huskies in the complex at the time. I think either tomorrow or Monday I'm going to try to either call or make an appointment with someone at a realty group that might help me be able to find an apartment. I just want something quiet and safe. I've been looking on craigslist but haven't found anything. If i have to threaten to take them to court to get out of the lease I just might do so.

In other news, therapy is going well and so is church stuff. I had a really good conversation with my minister today about prayer, suicide, life, and trust. My therapist did some experiential stuff on Tuesday and it was beneficial. I had a good session with her today and just sent her a long email on my thoughts on it. I start equine therapy tomorrow. I've also applied for a per diem activities assistant job and I am beginning the process of looking into grad school for music therapy. That will be a SLOW process and I'm only in the information gathering stage. I don't want to do psychotherapy with it but rather therapy with dementia patients or possibly kids with disabilities. I need to brush up on my music skills though and also need to get somewhat more stable. I don't plan to apply this year but possibly next year if all goes well.

I've currently got a huge fruit fly infestation and so just set out traps with dish soap and apple cider vinegar and they absolutely are helping. It's really gross. That's what happens when the trash sits for a long time, even if it is covered.

What else have I been up to? I've been swimming again, although I couldn't go today as I pulled a neck/shoulder muscle and it really hurts. Its better now then it was this morning. I'm not sure if I'll try to go tomorrow or will rest another day. I've started flute lessons again and I am loving it even more now then in the past. My grandfather turned 89 and is temporarily without a license after failing the eye exam. He goes to the eye doctor Tuesday and hopefully will get it back afterwards. He needs to get it back otherwise I'm going to be driving him lots of places. Tomorrow I have to take him to Market Basket which is hell on earth. Great prices yes, but overcrowded all the time. I haven't been there in over two years at this point.

My dog's electrocardiogram went as well as it could have gone. She does have heart disease and a murmur but doesn't need medication yet, although she will in the future. It saddens me and makes the realization that she won't live forever a little bit more real. I cried for a few hours after getting the news, even knowing it was the best news I could hope for.

I guess that is mostly it. I've been so busy lately I never seem to have time to catch my breath and write either here or in my paper journal. Hopefully things will begin to settle down and normalize more soon.

Sick

I have a nasty cold. It is too early in the season to have a cold, especially one this bad. I think if someone had shot me in the head yesterday only mucus would have come out, no blood. Today it seems to be moving down my body and I feel it more in my chest and throat, this has to mean it is leaving. Right? Please tell me that is accurate! I'm running a bouncy house at church tomorrow and need to feel better. Today I'm dragging and exhausted. I've found eating massive amounts of raw garlic on toast to be helpful. I'm also doing a crap ton of other stuff, both natural and two more conventional remedies to make this more tolerable.

So even in my miserableness of having a cold there is some good news. I met with the equine therapist yesterday and she was nice. I was comfortable with her. And even more amazing is she and the owner of the program have decided to see me for free for two months (twice a month) until she can begin taking my insurance! I have never had anyone offer me anything like that and was astounded by the offer. They have four horses, two miniature and two bigger ones. I won't be riding them as the therapist doesn't have a riding teachers license. I'm OK with that because I'm scared of horses at this point. I think this is something that could be beneficial. At the very least it will be interesting.

I'm currently waiting for my Y scholarship to go through. Once that goes through I can begin to swim again. I need to try to get in better shape. I'm not in horrific shape, but I am not in good shape. And I am still obese thanks to the Clozaril. I wish I had never tried that medication. I've also put feelers out to try to find a yoga therapy my therapist suggested and possibly martial arts. The last two are unlikely due to cost but I'm just finding out options.

I saw my pdoc on Wednesday. It went well. She's trying to get my labs from when I was inpatient and then is going to order her own. She tests for things other doctors don't. She mentioned the MTHFR gene in particular, as well as thyroid stuff that she looks at differently. Plus when we discussed my weight she said she is going to order this nutritional analysis that my insurance will actually cover that will help find out how my body reacts to food or something. This was all brought up when I mentioned I'd needed a B-12 shot in the hospital. I also lamented the weight gain from Clozaril and she suggested the nutritional analysis thing. I'm temporarily back on Trazodone due to my inability to sleep well. It didn't work the first two nights but last night I finally slept. I'm hoping this is partly due to my cold and I won't need it once its gone. Although there is some apprehension buried within around sleeping right now so maybe not. I'm still supposed to go to respite on Monday though and so maybe there with other people around I'll feel safer and can sleep without it.

Therapy was uneventful on Thursday compared to how it has been going. Mainly because the cold had gotten bad and she wouldn't come near me. So we just talked. Some interesting things were raised that I need to think more about.

The most difficult news as of late is my dog has a heart murmur. I'm bringing her in for an electrocardiogram on Wednesday to learn more. I'm hoping it is minor and pills can correct it.

jessa

in the interest of not typing everything again this is copied from an email to our therapist.

there is a 'new' one. she keeps laughing and saying she's not new, she's always been here but is just making herself known. its been a weird random day and we ended up in . driving home there were thoughts of tattoos and nose piercings, as when we pierced our nose (and the three times we did the belly button too) it was in . it seemed a bit hypomanicky but we weren't worried and then followed the thought and thinking and suddenly jessa introduced herself. she's probably most similar to core me, just more amplified and free spirited. probably more the me i would have been at her age if we'd been not did. she's either 21 or 23, she's going back and forth on that and we're not clear. 21 is what she has said the most but other times its 23 and she's done with college. she's very free spirited and maybe is even part of the core personality at times. she's more apt to go further off the path though because she missed out and wants what she missed.

this has been weird and it was a interesting drive home having the internal conversation. we were able to drive safely during it. she laughs like silverly bells. and it makes a little bit of sense as 21/23 is about the upper limit of how old we ever feel. she might also be one of the ones (along with callie) who is able to help maintain the bubbly happy cover we seem to show to so many people.

our therapist responded that this was an excellent discovery.

and we responded to that with: maybe, but its scary to know this means there are probably more i'm not aware of. i thought i'd figured them out and they were mapped and apparently thats not the case. then again given that you felt resistance or something yesterday that i didn't feel at all maybe i shouldn't be surprised by this, especially given the events of the last few weeks.

Back again

Wow. Things have been bad. We ended up hospitalized for 12 days. It sucked but wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Not even close. After what happened to us last year (being told we were psychotic and then when they realized the DID was accurately diagnosed they panicked not knowing what to do) we didn't dare hope for what happened this year. It literally came down to the wire and there were times when suicide seemed incredibly likely. However, we refused the hospital for at least a week because we were terrified of being sent back where we went last year. We also knew help would be very limited, possibly non-existent and damage could worsen. Hospitals in this state aren't designed to treat but for crisis management. Sadly though that leads to continuous revolving hospital stays for many people because they are discharged not as suicidal but with the underlying causes generally not addressed at all. And we were terrified of that happening because we came alarming close to suicide this time and if we were discharged without help/too soon we weren't going to try again.

Thankfully we ended up in a decent place and got some help, mainly being kept safe until we could begin using coping skills again. Our case manager and therapist REALLY went to bat advocating for us and what we needed. We were able to stay in touch with them through email and phone. That also helped a huge amount. The hospital was difficult and triggering at times. It was supposed to originally be a 3-4 day stay. That didn't happen due to the challenges of aftercare but my outpatient team made sure things were planned as best they could be for me. Without them there is no doubt we would have been discharged much earlier and not able to handle things.

We got home Tuesday. It was awesome to get home as we got in a power struggle with the inpatient team on Monday and had hit our limit of what we could tolerate. They were going to keep us even longer but finally let us go. Thank goodness! We've reconnected with our outpatient team and other supports. We are in a much much better place and are no longer praying for the strength to commit suicide. Things are better with our outpatient team too as we were ready to stop seeing them. We were pretty confused and upset but this is a pattern this time of year.

Our therapist is changing things up and focusing on bodywork and being present in it. Not too sure what to think of this yet. Actually, we did it the first time on Thursday and hated it. Things have been good since being home. Very busy and a lot to catch up on and deal with. There is a plan in place for us to go to respite on the 9th if we want or need to. We are going to reassess and see where we are then. There is also the possibility of adding in equine assisted therapy to our treatment. This is exciting but terrifying as we are pretty scared of horses.

Things were bad, really bad, and suicide was very very close to happening. Hopefully next year respite can prevent the need to be sent inpatient and allow us to continue working with our team and getting treatment but the extra support needed during this time of year.

Again

And just like that, hope has been completely dashed again. Not that I'd really gotten any back to begin with but I was trying to find something to hold on to. I'm back to praying for the strength to die. I no longer have the strength to keep fighting this. I'm not at the point of suicide yet but can't keep on like this.

I've let my therapist know I can't keep on after tomorrow. It's nothing she has done, but I need more then outpatient care. Sadly, that is all that is available to me as the inpatient care available to me won't treat me. The last time I tried it they said they didn't know what to do. I've realized I don't really want to die but I don't really know what else to try. If I could find more intense treatment I'd jump at it. Unfortunately nothing is available and I can no longer fight this as an outpatient. I just have to manage to get through tomorrow's appointment without being sectioned.

So tired

I'm so worn out. So tired of fighting. I was strong enough that I probably could have overdosed last Thursday. I chose not to, but now wonder if maybe I should have. Right now I don't have the strength or enough of a desire to do so. I want the pain to stop though. I'm just so tired of nothing ever working, of not having access to what could help me get better to defeat this. I am so tired of living a life sentence to pay for someone else's crimes against me when he will never be punished. I keep telling my treatment team that I can't do this anymore and they just aren't listening. I don't know what else to do. Why won't they believe me when I tell them I am too tired to keep going on like this and either need to quit for good or for something to change now?

Numb

More numb today than we have been in a very long time. This might give us strength. Therapy at 4:30PM. Unless she comes up with a plan of action we are quitting therapy today. Six more hours to go. Wish there was something to make the time go faster. We already feel dead inside. Not even sure if we'l be able to talk or communicate with her but maybe it doesn't matter at this point.

I had contacted two more places to try to find more help. Both got back to me today. They have no options or suggestions, they are sorry I'm in this position. And then they tell me not to give up. Yeah, sorry, way too late for that.

It would almost be funny if it wasn't so sad and serious.

I just need to get through the next two months. Just two months. 61 days. For some reason this time of year is difficult for me and I melt down. Last year was the first year there was enough stability to notice the pattern. We'd been mostly stable since coming home from Sheppard Pratt and then August rolled around and a melt down ensued. It landed us inpatient. We're hoping very much to avoid that this time around.

In 61 days it will be October and hopefully we'll be OK. Last year we were a wreck straight through until November, possibly even December, but we also dealt with the unexpected death of a dear friend in October.

Things have been challenging and its become even more apparent to both us and our therapist just how chaotic things are internally. It's always chaotic and we're just awesome at hiding it from everyone, including some of us.

Instant decline

I'm not doing so well and that frustrates me to no end. The week my therapist was away, this past week, I did really well. I was shocked at how well I did. I was uneasy having her away and knowing she couldn't get email but didn't dwell on it like I normally do. I ended up going to the beach, cooking a lot, and visiting friends who live two hours away. I had a good week. I even began to consider looking for a very part time job. My money situation is very bad and I was thinking maybe it was a possibility.

Then yesterday happened. I saw her at the new office and she had to do an intake. It's the fourth time I've done an intake with her in the almost 27 months I've been seeing her. This was the worst one, even the first one when I didn't know her at all wasn't bad. The questions she had to ask me for this place were relentless and so personal and invasive. And this is my feeling with a therapist who knows me more at this point then anyone ever has. It was upsetting and finally got to the point where I was in tears and told her I couldn't continue with it. I don't think she'd read through the intake form or even seen it prior to going through it with me. She was fine with that and said enough had been done and she'd either fill in the gaps or leave it blank. I told her had this been my first appointment with her I would not be going back.

I spent the rest of yesterday in a daze that worsened as the day went on. I tried distracting myself and going to church and being around people who are supportive. I think I hid the distress I was in pretty well from them. Then I came back to my mother's, I'm house sitting for her, and just collapsed on the couch. I'm a wreck. I began apartment and job hunting and just everything is a mess. I also realized yesterday that besides not being comfortable with the intake at this new place, which has led to me not wanting to return, I also don't feel confident my therapist will stay there. The last time she went to a new place it barely lasted. This place seems more established but all the forms yesterday make me think the person who's practice this belongs to is very different from my therapist and its not going to work out in the long run. I emailed my therapist last night explaining some of this to her. Not the last part though about thinking its not going to work. I don't think I did. I never got a response and given that I've had problems with Yahoo not delivering things I sent it again this morning via gmail.

It's 4PM and still no response. I've not gotten off the couch today except to take care of the dogs. I had things i really needed to go out and do today and just can't do it. I'm scared that this all came on so fast. And I'm even more worried in that this is the time of year things traditionally begin to not be good for me. I'm absolutely not suicidal but the old struggle about not being able to live but being afraid to die is very strong within me right now.

Break for a week

My therapist is away this week. Usually there is a lot of panic when she is away, especially as my case manager is still on medical leave and I haven't gotten to know my new pdoc very well yet. Not this time. The break is needed. Almost 16 years of being in therapy and this is the first time that sentiment has ever been felt! A lot of us inside need a break from the analyzing and processing and everything that goes with being in therapy, especially being in therapy with her.

Lately we've been all over the map with her. We love her. We hate her. We trust her. And then we hate her some more and get mad at her again. She's gotten inside our head in a way no one ever has. This has to led to other people being able to get in somewhat, but not in the manner she has. We've accused her of being able to read our mind at times. She denies this but says while she can't read direct thoughts she is able to intuit a lot of things. She's got us seriously confused.

She knows all of this. She knows we hate, hate beyond belief, how much she has gotten inside us and how much she means to us. That it freaks us out completely but also fascinates us. We asked her again at the last appointment why she is doing this and she said she's told us. We asked her to clue as in as there was no memory. She said because we are worth it. And so we turned red and got upset and mad again and hid behind our stuffed lion.

We did finally admit to her that we came as close to a suicide attempt as possible without it being an attempt over the belief we'd lost her. We've slept better since then. She dealt with it well. We refused to go into much detail but one of the insiders forced us to write an email to her prior to the appointment last Thursday cluing her in on what we haven't been able to tell her. It was made clear we wouldn't sleep if we didn't do it and we were beyond tired that night. After ignoring it and not being able to sleep we sent a long rambling email to her. She keeps saying we're doing really good work right now. That we are doing well. We're not so sure about that.

One thing we realized is she's not only the first therapist we've ever told face to face we hated she's the first we've ever allowed ourselves to get mad at. She's the only one who has gotten that close. She's making us crazy. She's enjoying this struggle to a degree too. She says she's honored we are struggling so much with this.

Wherever she is right now she has no computer access. This sucks but she says we can still email her and she will respond when she returns. We like her being gone and not having to see her (for the brief moment) but do wish we could email her if needed. She's gotten so far inside our head. It's annoying and scary and wonderful and terrifying and overwhelming and on and on and on.

We're taking advantage of the break. We aren't thinking more than is required. Today was spent dicing a crap ton of zucchini and then making a spaghetti sauce. We still have a lot of zucchini left. We also made a veggie lentil stew. Cooked veggie beet chickpea quinoa burgers from scratch last night that are out of this world. We also dragged out our clarinet and remember none of the fingerings so will have to relearn those. Tomorrow will probably be sent cooking some more and hopefully working on some music as well.

Long time gone

I haven't written in a very long time. Life got very hard. So much has happened I don't even know where to begin. I can't even remember all that has happened, let alone summarize in a way that isn't a novel and still makes sense. I didn't keep writing here through it because things were so bad and uncertain.

My therapist told me at the end of April she was leaving her current clinic. I knew it was coming and we had been trying to figure out how I cold stay with her. Due to insurance crap it kept looking uncertain. I eventually got incredibly upset and overwhelmed and didn't go to an appointment. Maybe two, but I think just one. My minister talked me through that one and I went back, very wary and uncertain. After going back she messaged me that she had found a way for me to continue with her. Except really she hadn't due to limited finances from not being able to work. I got incredibly freaked out, upset, overwhelmed and essentially lost my mind. I walked out on that appointment after maybe 10 minutes in. Told her I was done. That she had been promising things that weren't true and I didn't trust her and if I couldn't trust her I wasn't trusting anyone.

The next few weeks would be horrible. I came closer to suicide then I have in years. The only thing that stopped me was that at least I know the suckiness in this life, not so much about the next one. I had the police called on me for a wellness check. This is after I was legitimately no longer suicidal and had tried conveying this to people via email. No one was listening. I told no one when I was suicidal. I'm sure people suspected but I had everything figured out and could have done it without being stopped. Happily I avoided hospitalization this time. And I never followed through on those plans.

I quit therapy. I quit church. I quit case management and psychiatry. I essentially quit life and quit talking to people. I hated the world. I did stay in contact with people a bit via email and FB hoping they'd eventually leave me alone. I also hoped it would prevent panic on the part of other people. Neither one worked. I tried giving my dog away too which also apparently sent up alarms. I didn't want to give her away, just thought it was better for her.

Basically enough people rallied together and my therapist convinced my mother to pay the copay for awhile. She did say she is going to try to see if she can eventually lower or waive it. Due to insurance complications she isn't sure yet what she can do.

I'm better now. I'm sorta liking life again. I go to the farm on Mondays and do the CSA. I'm enjoying talking to people coming to pick up their produce and playing with their kids. I've gotten involved in church life again. Possibly over-involved. I'm cooking up a storm with all of the produce I'm getting. I've made a vegan cheesecake that was quite good. I've fallen in love with kohlrabi fries. I'm taking with friends again and being somewhat social.

I still need a lot of time alone to just breathe and continue coping with things. I can only take so much of people, noise, crowds, that sort of thing. I've had a very busy past few days and today am stuck at home waiting to switch internet providers. It's annoying because I have things I need to do. I love the downtime though.

I met my new psychiatrist about two weeks ago. I adore her. I looked at her in shock after the appointment and said I liked her. That never happens. She's good. I'm currently on no medications. I am taking 5HTP daily and valerian, plus a lot of vitamins. She is good. More on her in the future.

Things are now set up for me to transfer with my therapist to her new clinic. I'm better with her but it's still hard. I broke out in hives at my appointment with her on Tuesday because of how stressed I got. I've only had hives once in my life before due to an allergic reaction to medication. I've never had stress hives before. It was bizarre.

I wrote two poems in the midst of all this going on that shed even more light on some of the underlying issues. I wonder if these issues will ever, ever be resolved? It was stuff I thought I'd worked through but apparently have not.

This is getting very long and so I will stop at this point. I will eventually write more about the new psychiatrist, the transition to the new clinic (as it happens), and other things going on in my life. The dissociation had gotten pretty bad with all of the stuff going on. A lot of switching at times and a lack of awareness of reality. It's getting better.

I'm still here, still breathing, somewhat stable, and for now that is enough.

Imploding

I'm struggling. Badly. It was a bad weekend. I had a horrible body memory Saturday night, a new one. Not as invasive as the one that usually comes but it was frightening enough. I woke up in terror convinced it was happening in the moment. This prevented me from being able to shower Sunday morning which meant I couldn't go to church. I wasn't happy about it but thought I was OK with it. Nope, saw pictures on Facebook later and cried because I was unable to go. All because I couldn't take a shower.

I can't take baths and haven't been able to in years. I've tried various ways to do it and gave up when just sitting in a dry tub in clothes made me panicky. Showers were never a problem until yesterday. If I'd showered more recently I would have sprayed perfume and gone to church in a hat. But I'd last showered Thursday morning and hadn't changed clothes since Thursday afternoon. That wasn't going to cut it.

Everything is confusing me. Life is totally overwhelming. I'm realizing even more how inequitable mental health treatment is to say, care for someone with cancer. Someone with cancer can have something incurable and elect for chemotherapy. It costs tons of money and won't save the person's life. It might buy them time, it might not. But they have that option to choose. Because my illnesses are trauma related I don't get that option. My coverage is limited and is pretty much gone for the rest of my life (inpatient wise). In my early thirties that is a huge concern.

I feel like my life is totally worthless to the insurance people and the government. If I could get proper treatment I might be able to do what I want most and get off disability in the future and work. Nope, sorry because I'm not wealthy and am a trauma survivor I get to just suck it up and try to get by with what is available, which is pretty much nothing.

Two forty-five minute visits a week with my therapist aren't cutting it at this point. I'm rapidly imploding and not sure what is going to be the end result. i don't even know if I care anymore.

This is horrible to say. I'm not suicidal but wish I was so I could just do it and die and get the hell out of this life.

You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)

Things are still very difficult. It's been a horribly hard week. I've been too dissociated to drive or really do anything. I made it to therapy on Tuesday because my case manager took me. I couldn't get there on Thursday. I spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at church. I was trying to do things to help but also trying to be around people. Safe people who know the whole story and wouldn't overreact. I had some helpful conversations with the two people there. The one with my minister yesterday was so nice. She doesn't get it, she knows she doesn't get it, but she relates to it as much as she can in a way that no one ever has while stating she knows its not the same.

I'm too tired to think much or write much tonight. But I stumbled across this song tonight. I love Josh Groban's music but had never heard this song. It's giving me so much comfort and it currently on repeat on my iPod. I'll fall asleep listening to it tonight I'm sure.



I'm so grateful to those who are loving me. Who aren't giving up on me or allowing me to give up on myself. I've been in frequent email contact with my t the past week. I would normally never send her a YouTube link but sent the above link to her thanking her for being the first to ever really truly hear me. And not only did she hear me she also hasn't given up or allowed me to give up.

Things are still rough. I'm still fairly dissociated and am not sure what tomorrow will bring. But I can't give up.

Adjusting

I'm here. Kinda, sorta, maybe. I'm pretty dissociated still. I've been incredibly dissociated since Wednesday night. You know when I was crying and hugged and held. It meant an incredible amount to me. It also apparently sent me into shock and then flight mode. And I'm so good at flight mode that I took off. I haven't felt grounded or real since then.

Therapy on Thursday was a bit of a mess. I dissociated completely the whole session. She said she thinks it was Wendy, the fourteen year old. She got to where she thought I was grounded enough to leave. I got my stuff and she started walking me out and I didn't make it. I couldn't feel the ground and so couldn't walk. She looked at me and said I didn't look good and I said I wasn't. It took 30 minutes of her sitting with me in a group room before I could ground enough to walk and safely drive home. Having someone come to get me would have been ideal but there wasn't anyone and so I had to get home. I got home and haven't left since.

I still don't feel real. I still don't feel attached to things. I still feel like I'm watching a movie that is actually my life. I can't connect to any of it.

I spent yesterday emailing my therapist a lot. She's pretty worried. She emailed my minister. I finally got brave enough to text my minister tonight and asked her to call me when she could. It was so hard for me to text her and ask for that. She called me and I just got off the phone with her.

I feel better. I'm still not grounded at all but I feel a bit lighter. She gets it as much as she can. She even made me laugh. She thinks my reactions are normal.

She said, "You are just getting used to being loved. That's all."

I'm just being loved, accepted, wanted, and valued for being who I am. Just for being me. And given my upbringing its new to me and so its an adjustment. And she thinks its normal.

She's only been at our church for a year. Exactly a year today. She posted that on her blog and I was dumbfounded by the fact that its only been a year. It feels like so much longer. She has made such a profound difference in my life, as have other people at my church.

I'm not real again yet. But I will be. I think. I hope. And until then there are people to help me.

She held me

It's been awhile. I've been pretty sick the last few weeks. It started with headaches and weakness for about two weeks. That turned into laryngitis for two and a half weeks. I finally got my voice back today. Two and a half weeks without being able to really talk was torture on many levels, although it was nice to have a valid reason to not talk to family members. But seriously, four therapy sessions without really being able talk was rather difficult. Last Thursday she didn't let me talk at all and we did exercises with my body. And then Monday I woke up in horrible pain in my left lower stomach. I had to get a CT scan and turns out I have diverticulitis. I can't remember the last time I took antibiotics and now I've been on three in the space of six days. Let's not make this a trend.

But today I've finally gotten my voice back. All the way back. My stomach still hurts a little but but it isn't horrible. I can function and move. I might even try eating a more normal diet tomorrow. I've been trying to do the liquid diet the doctor wants me to do but that is so hard and leaves me so hungry. I had a baked potato with my soup at lunch today which seemed fine. And then at dinner there was salad and being a good vegan I couldn't stand seeing yummy veggies and so caved and had some. I guess I'll see what happens as they digest.

But now to turn the subject to why I'm writing this tonight. There was a small group at my church tonight. Of the people who were there tonight two know the entire story, DID and all. One of those is the minister. Two others know of the abuse and PTSD everything else but not the DID. The last woman knows none of those details. We were talking about love tonight. One of the tangents was on whether we aspired to love the entire human race without exception. Who is worthy or unworthy of love?

I started crying at some point which I was OK with. I'm used to crying in front of people. I'm a crier. I even cry when I'm mad. But I thought I was going to throw up and so left and went and sat in the bathroom. My minister came and found me which I felt bad about because she was leading the group. She came and sat on the floor with me and held me. She held me and hugged me.

I need to repeat and bold that last sentence because of how much it means to me. She held me and she hugged me. She got down on the floor with me and held me, hugged me, and let me cry like no one ever has before. People let me cry but she held me. No one has ever held me and hugged me when I've cried. Then she asked if she could pray with/for me and I agreed. She put her hands on mine or on my head, I can't remember now. I think she put her hands on mine and I put my head on her hands. And when that was too hard for me and I pulled away she just went with me and continued holding me.

I didn't want to go back to the group right away but she got me to go back. I cried more there and still felt sick but it was OK. I stayed around a bit after the group ended and played with her kids a bit. Everyone pretty much left in a group. I'm feeling a bit triggered and unsettled and don't want to sleep right now.

I was held and hugged. I was loved tonight.

In awesome news

In awesome news my therapist isn't dead or unconscious or anything horrible like that. With the encouragement of friends on a support forum I sent her an email this morning. I don't think I want to repost the email I sent here. It's a bit embarrassing. I did admit that my mind had gone into catastrophizing mode and I was terrified she was dead. I told her I did know that was probably overreacting and that I was trying to calm down but was really scared and needed to know she wasn't dead. I was also trying to make clear that I really, really didn't want to intrude on her personal life and was trying hard not to completely lose it. That I felt really guilty emailing her.

So essentially I asked her to let me know if she wasn't dead. That I really needed to know that. And that if she wasn't dead would it be OK if I emailed her about something that was scaring me. Again, I tried to explain that while I really wanted to email her about the whole scratching thing I didn't want to bother her if something was going on in her life.

She responded very quickly that she wasn't dead or going away. I started crying when I read that. I was even more terrified then I had admitted to myself. And then she told me it was OK to email her about what was going on, that this was why the email system had been set up, and that she would respond when she was able to do so.

I emailed her the gist of what was going on. She hasn't responded yet and that is OK. Just knowing she isn't dead or going away is a huge relief. It's embarrassing to me that my mind went there but I think she understands why that happened. I'm much more secure with her then I've been with other therapists in the past, well with any therapist ever. The fear of her leaving still comes up sometimes but not like it used to. And honestly this time I wasn't really afraid of her going away. I didn't think she would choose to do that. I was more afraid that she was dead which obviously wouldn't allow her to make that choice.

Wow. This is pretty significant for me to realize. Especially because when I started seeing her almost two years ago (this coming May will be two years) in my first appointment I flat out told her I saw no point in coming to see her because she would only get sick of me too. She assured me she wouldn't. I didn't believe her. I guess, somewhere along the way, that changed. Even knowing she is moving her practice to a neighboring state which might make it impossible for me to keep seeing her (insurance crap, not because of distance) I think I believe she will try to find a way for that not to happen.

Freaking out

I'm rather nervous and unsettled tonight. There are two main reasons for this. The first is that therapy was canceled today. The fact that it was canceled is enough to shake me up a bit in and of itself. What is really freaking me out is that the office called to let me know. Not my therapist. This has never happened. Ever. She rarely cancels but when she has had to do so or has had to reschedule she always calls me herself. I'm terrified that something is drastically wrong with her or her family. And since I'm heading in the direction of sheer terror and catastrophizing I will admit in my head I'm worried she's dead. Or maybe something happened to her parents or children and she is going to be gone for a long time, maybe forever. I'm supposed to see her again on Tuesday but am terrified that appointment will be canceled too. If I knew that appointment was definitely going to happen I could relax a little bit. I'm trying to rationalize that it isn't likely she is dead or gone but I'm really scared that she didn't contact me herself. I was pretty out of it when I left my appointment Tuesday and so I'm petrified something is really wrong.

And the other reason is I woke up with scratches on my chest. Claw marks if you will, on both sides of my chest. This has happened before but they were always really mild and would go away in the shower. I wasn't ever sure what to think about it but wasn't overly concerned. I just found it odd. But then today they were a little bit deeper. And now at 11PM one is still visible on my left side. I'm worried that someone inside is doing this and I'm completely unaware of it. It makes sense but I usually have some degree of co-consciousness and have none with this. I'm not really worried about harming myself but this freaks me out a bit. I'm scared someone inside will take over and do something without anyone else being aware of it.

I have an email address for my therapist that I'm allowed to use. I'm considering emailing her tomorrow and apologizing for emailing her but saying in the email that something really weird and upsetting is going on, and that if its OK for me to email her in a bit more depth about it to let me know. I don't want to bother her if something major is going on in her life. But I'm so scared, both by her not calling and by this weird thing going on with me too.

My case manager is away so it's not even an option to call her. Ugh. My therapist is currently really the only one I can talk to about this.

Crawling to a stop

Things have been slow the last few days. It's driving me bonkers. The past few weeks I've just been constantly on the go and I've gotten used to it. I like it. I've been swimming, doing stuff at church, my flute lesson and practice, therapy, and just constantly going. I admitted in therapy last week that part of why I've been keeping so busy is so I don't have to think about things. I was doing that on a subconscious basis but when I said that it rang true. Last week was SO busy. I never stopped, except to sleep. I was stressed with everything I was doing but there wasn't anything I didn't want to be doing and so I kept doing it.

Friday night I met a friend in a nearby city. A bonus was we found a restaurant with vegan pizza and food! So yummy. We went to an energy healing clinic which was amazing. I felt so good afterward. I cried and sat by the fire for a bit but it was healing. And then we went back for the drum circle. Best drum circle ever. It's held monthly and I am absolutely going back next month. The energy clinic is the same night as well and so I plan to do both again. The drum circle was fabulous. The nicest people were there and I totally let loose and had a blast. I drummed, I tried a xylophone type instrument. I attempted a wooden flute but the fingering was too weird since I'm used to the classical Boehm flute. I tried a recorder. I even danced. I loved every minute of it.

Saturday dawned and I went swimming. I was resting when my mom asked if I wanted to go to lunch with her and my sister, as it was the sister's birthday. I decided to go without thinking it through. Lunch was at Olive Garden. I got extremely overwhelmed with all the lights, noise, and people. I made it through the soup and then went home, leaving them to bring my meal home. I dissociated horribly. I pretty much went to bed for the day but figured I'd be OK by Sunday.

Sunday rolled around and I felt irritable. My head hurt and I wanted to scream at the world. I tried to swim before church but the pool wasn't open yet. I reasoned I could go after church. I honestly wouldn't have gone to church if I hadn't had to go to a meeting after the service. I felt like crap and wanted to bite off everyone's heads. I made it through the service and then went upstairs to wait for the meeting. The meeting was endless. There was one person in particular who I was about ready to strangle as he was making it drag on and on and on. My minister finally ended it and I left. I came home to bed. Other then letting the dog out I didn't get out again until Tuesday. I spent the majority of Monday crying for no reason. My headache worsened throughout Sunday through yesterday.

Yesterday I dragged myself to the pool. I was missing the exercise and sometimes being in the water will calm me down. I was hoping it would take the edge off my headache or irritation. No. It worsened both. I was ready to scream and lash out at the world and my head was splitting. I had tried ibuprofen but didn't think it would do much good. This is all psychological and meds aren't going to make much of a difference. I went to therapy. She got the anger and pain and headaches and all of it was just radiating off me. I cried and said I didn't want to be like this. That I didn't trust myself to be around people because I couldn't control the anger and was afraid of lashing out at people for no reason. I was drawing during the appointment and she asked me to try drawing two things. The second thing was s funny face. I drew it and she asked if she could add to it. I said yes and then started laughing at what she added. As I was laughing I told her to stop making me laugh because I was mad and didn't want to laugh!

I think at some point I told her I feel like I'm not making progress. That I've stagnated and am possibly going backwards. She disagreed. She said I'm feeling things now. That two years ago, even a year ago I was denying that I was angry at all. And now I'm feeling it and even admitting it at times and to her that is progress. She said it doesn't feel good but it is progress. I'm blanking on the end of the appointment. I know I got triggered and there was some dissociation. I was hiding from her behind both my hair and my stuffed lion while I cried. I was pretty out of it when I left and actually had a hard time driving home.

When I got home I went to bed. I watched some TV. I practiced flute for 30 minutes and that was my day. My head was still killing me and so at the suggestion of my therapist I took out my acupressure book and spent over an hour doing that. It seemed to help a lot. I was terrified of going to sleep. I never sleep in total darkness but have had to have the big light on for at least a week now. Eventually I slept.

So today, today was going to be the day my head stopped aching and I could go back to my regularly scheduled life, right? Nope, wrong. I woke up early and my head wasn't hurting badly. A great sign until I got out of bed and I could tell the headache was just below the surface, begging to come back to life. I hoped maybe it would pass and I could go out and do something. Nope. I've spent the day in bed doing nothing but watching TV, coming online, and reading a bit. I am going out of my mind with boredom and annoyance over this. I took a nap and woke up exhausted. I have things I want to do. Things I need to do. I don't have time to be stuck in bed!

I badly need to clean my apartment. I need to swim. I need to practice flute. I need to go do stuff at church. I need to just get up and out and back to life and no, not possible today.

I guess the good part is that at least today I don't feel quite so furious at the entire world. I'm not ready to kill people just for looking in my direction or just for breathing. I'm calmer in that aspect.

I'm thinking the moral of all of this is not to push myself quite so hard. That possibly my mind, body, and spirit all just collapsed from everything I've been doing. There has been so much going on, both internally and externally. Given that I've accomplished nothing today I'd have to wager a guess that my whole being was at the collapsing point.

In more good news my pdoc found someone for me to see when she leaves. This is awesome news. I'm a bit nervous as this pdoc specializes in bipolar and schizophrenia. I'm technically diagnosed with Bipolar I but no longer believe it is accurate, which my therapist agrees with me about. My main issues are PTSD and DID. I hope the new pdoc can work with those and not focus on what looks like bipolar but probably isn't. Anyhow, I called new pdoc today to make an appointment with her and she sounded pretty nice on the phone so I'm hopeful this will work.

Tomorrow's agenda is flute lesson, therapy, and writing group. Additional hopes of being able to swim and go help at church are tossed in as well. The reality is I'm considering rescheduling my flute lesson for next week, possibly going to church, definitely going to therapy, and hopefully making it to writing group. As badly as I want to swim and go to my flute lesson I'm getting the feeling I still need more rest, which just might make me even crazier then I already am.

I'm tired of being stopped like this. I want to get back on the train and finish this journey!

The T Word

Trust isn't a four letter word but for me it may as well be. It is that forbidden and terrifying to me. I don't trust myself, forget trusting anyone else. My last therapist pretty much shredded the little bits of me that were able to kinda sorta maybe barely pretend to trust.

And then I got my current therapist. I haven't even been seeing her for two years. It will be two years the beginning of May. During my first session with her I was so damaged I told her there was no point in seeing her because she would get sick of me too because everyone does, so what was the point in going through that again? She promised she wouldn't get sick of me or leave me. I didn't believe her. Parts of me still don't really believe it, but there has been some headway there.

Today during the session we were just talking in circles. I was physically and mentally exhausted and almost canceled the session because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to drive safely. I decided to go because of some weird things that happened last night. So we're talking about things that have changed and I said a lot of it is because of her. She said she's made suggestions to me (the writing group, telling my minister) but it doesn't mean I have to take them. And I said well, I take them because I know she is safe and so it should be OK and not hurt me.

As I was talking to her about this while hiding my face behind my lion she said that wasn't good enough. That she knew what word I was substituting for with the word "safe" and she wanted to hear me say it. I slid even further down against the wall so I was almost lying completely on the floor (we both sit on the floor during the sessions, to keep me grounded) and my face was completely covered by my lion. And even with my face behind the lion I could feel it getting so red.

It took more then a few tries. I don't even know how many times it took me to get beyond the sound of "t" to "tr". Let's just say it took many tries, after which came "tru". Eventually I mumbled, choked, stuttered and finally uttered the word.

Trust.

And then I cried.

None of this is news to her. She knows that she knows more about me then anyone has ever, ever, ever known about me. This has been an ongoing topic of late, that she knows so much about me. It's not news to me either.

But to admit it? To even think the word to myself?

I wasn't going there. I didn't want to jinx what I have, which is something I've never had. I didn't want to acknowledge it in my own head.

To say it out loud? To another person?

Terrifying.

This is a road I've never been down before.

Memories

There is a lot going on in the PTSD department. Things are starting to come to a head again. I'm currently really scared, sad, and triggered. My head is spinning. I'm making new connections and realizations about my childhood and my stomach is turning. I emailed my therapist earlier today about the impending loss of my psychiatrist and I really wish I hadn't. I want to email her now but don't want to be overly needy or abuse this email thing. My psychiatrist did increase my prazosin today and so maybe that will help. Maybe I should take it now and try and stop my mind from thinking. I'm not suicidal but right now I'd like to down a bottle of pills to escape my mind. People have been reaching out to me and that in itself is amazing and awesome. I'm going to save that for tomorrow so I can write about something good and not this negative stuff. Please, if anyone reads this, please send healing energy my way tonight.

Light on the path

When I last wrote on Friday things were difficult. They stayed that way. It's been a rough couple days but I think I'm finally pulling out of it. I'll break this into pieces and start with Saturday. I stayed in bed all day. I still hadn't slept well and my back hurt from the fall. I was exhausted and emotional. My dog was sicker then she's ever been in the nearly nine years I've had her. She had diarrhea everywhere. I couldn't clean it and just cried. I called the vet and they said to put her on a boiled meat and rice diet. Great, except I'm vegan and have none of that stuff, my back hurts so I can't drive, and even if I could drive I don't know how to cook meat! It was mom to the rescue. We have our issues and our moments but I called her for help. She cooked chicken and rice and brought it over to me. (She lives about five minutes away by car.) Success, my baby could be fed again and I could go back to crying in bed. Sunday was a tad better. I was still overemotional and still woke up exhausted. I decided not to go to church because I didn't trust myself to be around people. And my dog was sick and I didn't want to stress her out by making her go. (She's a service dog and so comes to church with me.) I was still really anxious and irritable so I decided to take a large dose of trilafon. For the longest time it didn't make a difference but I actually ended up taking a nap late in the day. i even played around with my guitar for about 15 minutes. Not much but better then nothing. And two people from church reached out to me to make sure I was OK because I never miss church unless I'm in the hospital. These two are the only ones other then the minister who know about the DID and so I did let them know things were rough due to nightmares and lack of sleep. Both Saturday and Sunday I did a lot of reading. I also spent a lot of time on Pandys, a website for survivors of sexual assault. See the link to the right. Thank god for that site. My therapist found it for me and it has been a godsend. Yesterday I got a call from my therapist. She couldn't see me today as she had planned because the clinic she is returning to was making her go through proper channels. And then she added in that they weren't guaranteeing that her clients returning with her could stay with her. Um, what?!?!? Cue panic. She told me not to worry that she could make a strong case about how it was clinically indicated for me to stay with her. Still, I panicked. I spent the rest of the day alternating between panic and complete dissociation. On the plus side I finally took a shower and even shaved my legs, which hasn't happened in probably over a month. Today things finally began to get better. I had a problem with my bank. I was supposed to have overdraft protection so if I didn't have the money in the account the purchase would be denied. Apparently that changed in April. I've just been lucky enough not to have overdrawn until now. I did it three times and then got a fourth charge for being overdrawn for so long. All told it added up to $140 in fees which is money I can't afford to lose. It took a week to get an answer but I went back to the bank today and I won my appeal and the money will be returned to me! Thank god because I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't get it back. My therapist called and said I was approved to see her again, however, I had to call the clinic (again) because I said stuff the wrong way yesterday. Apparently me telling them I wasn't going back to said clinic unless I could see the same therapist meant I didn't want to come back at all. Yeah, I'm not sure how that worked. But it worked out and I'll see her again on Thursday. I can finally breathe again! So this should be a good thing, right? And it absolutely is. But because I've been so incredibly stressed out by all of this I completely dissociated once it was confirmed I would be seeing her Thursday. I just slid into nothingness again. I was there, totally disconnected for at least two hours. I finally grounded enough to go get a sandwich for dinner. I came home and got lost in my head again. I took out my flute about two hours ago. And I played for ninety minutes. It was fabulous. It brought me back to my body and grounded me. I haven't played for so long in ages. I worked on tone, articulation, rhythm, and sight-reading. I also worked on some pieces I'm planning to play at church. One of them has two passages that are driving me insane. It's not that I can't play them, its that I psych myself out with them. So annoying. I would still be playing now except I don't want to drive the rest of the building insane. Plus, when I was younger I broke my pinky playing basketball and when I play for too long my finger starts to hurt because it didn't heal correctly. So was it a detour or was it getting lost? I'm honestly not sure. And I'm not totally out of the woods yet either. However, I am starting to find my way again. The world isn't completely dark and covered in thorns I can't see anymore. I'm still going to have to be careful the next few days. I still feel pretty fragile and delicate but hopefully the light will grow stronger and I can find the correct path again. For now though I'm just glad to be seeing cracks of light again.

Hopefully its only a detour

There are very few journeys on which you can go straight from the beginning to the end without getting lost or sidetracked. And even if you don't get lost there can be difficult terrain to cover. I'm currently either lost or in difficult terrain. I may even be lost in difficult terrain just to make things that much more fun. I'm tired. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks. I've been having anxiety about going to sleep. I stay up until I can't stay up anymore but I'm still getting the requisite hours I need. However, apparently I have been sleeping but I've been having nightmares and flashbacks in my sleep. I wasn't aware of this until I woke up Wednesday night to go to the bathroom caught in a flashback/nightmare state that seemed to be happening right in my apartment. I was so confused by it and a little bit scared as this particular brand of flashback had never really happened to me before. I further realized there were sleep issues going on when I woke up exhausted today even though I had supposedly slept through the night. I've been crying all day. It's annoying. It has been a difficult day but not one that should have me in tears like this. Yes, I fell on the ice and landed on my back and hit my head. And yes, my dog is sick with diarrhea and my back hurts too much to get her out when she does her emergency dance every 20 minutes. Yes, I've lost my iPod which was found by someone in my building but its looking like someone else might have claimed it was theirs. All of that sucks but today it is sending me over the edge in a way it normally wouldn't. I'm just so overtired its affecting every aspect of life. I saw my psychiatrist today and she put me back on trilafon and prazosin to try and see if I can get some peaceful sleep which will make things better. The prazosin blocks my nightmares and flashbacks. I was able to go off it last April (as well as the trilafon) but apparently I need them again. She said I can go off them again once things stabilize. I cried about having to go back on them (big surprise there, right?) but also recognized I can't handle being like this much longer. I sobbed through the whole appointment and have to go back in two weeks instead of my normal four weeks. And to make my day even better my psychiatrist told me she is leaving the clinic in April and going into private practice. Medicaid and medicare won't cover anyone in private practice. I can't process that right now and so am not even trying to. There is a doctor there who has covered for her before who I know a bit and like. She has a lot of experience with dissociative disorders and PTSD so if she is able to take me on the switch won't be quite so brutal. It still massively sucks though because this doctor has been great with me and I've been seeing her for around eight years, possibly longer. And I have major trust issues, as do many trauma survivors. So I'm wandering right now. I'm lost. I have to find my way out of this yet again. I'm hoping that this will be a quick detour. That I won't be caught in this black thicket of thorns for very long. Some detours are fun (especially the ones where you run into butterflies and follow them) and then there ares ones like this that truly suck. I think part of what is bothering me so much is how this one has pretty much come out of nowhere. In the past when I've had nightmares/flashbacks when asleep I didn't always remember them but could tell it had happened by how my body felt in the morning. There was/is none of that this time. Maybe if I can get some decent sleep tonight the sun will shine tomorrow and lead me out of this dark space. I'm hoping this is a detour and I'm not actually lost because at least with a detour you are on the right path.

Age, Hearing Loss, Emotional Development, and Music

In therapy yesterday I told my therapist that I never feel my age. It just doesn't make sense to me that I am in my early thirties. How can I be that old? I never expected to reach 21, let alone 10+ years beyond that with no plans of that stopping anytime soon. I look younger then my age too. Most people guess me to be in my early twenties at most. When I was in the hospital in September the other patients thought I was 19. I thought that was a bit of stretch though. I honestly think I would feel even younger then my early twenties except for the fact that I can drive and am not in school. The not being in school thing really helps with that. Part of the reason my age confuses so much is due to trauma. This is the reason why my blog is going to be hidden from people who know me. I am very open about the fact that I have PTSD and bipolar disorder. But I've also been diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder which is a controversial and misunderstood disorder. I don't want people thinking I am a freak, even more then they already might. So this means I have different parts inside who are different ages. Some are much older than my chronological age and others are much younger. The youngest given age is four with a range up to seventeen. Then the older ones don't give ages. I just know they are a lot older. There is a four year old, six year old, two eight year olds, a fourteen year old, and a seventeen year old. There are three without an age attached who are all much older adults. So in a sense I am not my actual chronological age when one of the insiders is in control. But there is another component my therapist seems to think merits attention. I was born with a severe hearing loss that wasn't discovered until I was almost five years old. My therapist thinks I missed out on a lot of social and emotional development because of this. I don't know what to think. My hearing loss has affected me in many ways but I never thought it affected me in such a huge way at such a young age. My mother actually told me last night that when I was younger people thought I was gifted. I was mainstreamed my entire life. I received speech therapy at school until it became clear I needed individual sessions. I'm not a huge fan of mainstreaming. I was the only child with a physical disability in all of my schools (private schools) K-12. I felt like such a freak. I was incredibly shy because of it. For years I had to have my hair covering my hearing aids. Of course I now wear a cochlear implant on my head with pride, but as a child, being different and shy was horrible. Add in hidden sexual abuse affecting me and yeah, I was a social pariah. I wish I had been in a program for students with hearing loss. I think it would have helped me so much. (If anyone who stumbles upon this knows of any information on delayed emotional development of children with hearing loss please send me the information!) You might be curious as to what got me through all of this. The answer is music, writing, and art. That is what saved me then and what is saving me now. My high school music teacher was amazing and the four years I was involved in the music program she was a godsend. I wrote her a thank you email a year or so ago filling her in on just how much she had helped me. I believe I would have successfully killed myself back in high school without her in my life. And I don't think I was the only student she was a lifeline for. The music program was wonderful because it also gave me a social group. Music was out of my life for many years. I started lessons again on my primary instrument at the end of August. I also decided to try and finally learn guitar. I had one but couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Stringed instruments have never made sense to me. Give me a woodwind and I can quickly teach myself. I even learned basic piano on my own. But stringed instruments? Nope, totally confusing. I'm now doing fairly well at playing guitar. I just have to figure out how to sing and play at the same time while keeping the correct strumming pattern. Hey, its a work in progress. Kinda like me.

A new beginning

I've written in this blog in the past but I ended up deleting all of the posts. At that point in time I was focusing on my hearing loss and how it was affecting me. I will still write about that but am thinking this blog will mainly focus on my journey of healing from sexual abuse. So its a new year. A new start. A new beginning, both in life and here in this blog. I'll see where it takes me. For now I'm going to keep identifying details totally separate from this. I'm not ashamed of my story and what I have lived though. I have survived so much and am coming out on the other side. However, part of what I experienced has left its mark on me in a way not many people understand and I am leery about people who know me knowing about this. I might tell some about this blog but don't want others to stumble on it and know instantly who I am. Maybe I'll change my mind in the future but this is how I will do it for now. In the past year I finally made a lot of strides forward in my healing journey, not the least of which was my six week stay on the Trauma Disorders Unit at Sheppard Pratt Hospital in Baltimore, MD. I was actually discharged from there on December 7th, 2011, but the difference it made in my life over the past year was huge. I've never had a year like the one that just passed (and I meant that it was better then my life has ever been). I honestly didn't know life could be like this. Was it a perfect year? No, I crashed quite badly at the end of August and ended up inpatient for five days. The end of August through the end of November kinda sucked. But I made it through. I actually knew true happiness and stability this year, for the first time ever in my thirty-something years and that is amazing. As for the trauma I will leave it at this for now. I was sexually abused by my father from a very young age until I was 17. I carry a lot of guilt that I was so old when it ended and that I never told anyone. I didn't know to tell anyone as it had been going on for so long that it just seemed normal to me. I was never able to prosecute him. I tried to do so several years ago but was told it would be he said/she said. And since he is a lawyer and I'm on disability for psychiatric reasons they decided to believe him. They didn't even investigate him. But hey, at least I haven't seen him in many years. I still wish there was a way for him to be punished for what he did to me. I know there is no way for that to happen now but I haven't completely given up hope the statute of limitations will change and be eliminated and I will get my chance.