aggravating

 So, having DID brings all sorts of other "health, and physical issues", depression, headaches, etc....but for me, the worst part of having DID is the inability to sleep.

I have to take a Xanax before bed, that is the only thing that will shut my brain off and allow me to sleep.

For me, since some of my alters say they never sleep...I feel that is why, I cannot sleep as well...they are awake in my head, and I swear, they yell and scream and flip on lights and slam doors all night....in my head....so goddamn frustrating.

Last night, I was so tired, I wanted to try and sleep without the pill...I have consistently been taking them every night for over 6 months, and I have been sleeping 8-9 hours a night.  I could barely hold my eyes open.  So Kevin, put the Xanax by my bed and said that if I was not asleep within an hour and a half, to take the pill.   I was like "okay", I was sure I would be able to fall asleep without it.....2 hours later, I am still awake, my body is tired, my eyes are tired, but my fucking brain is wide awake!

So I took the damn pill and was asleep within 30 minutes.  That fucking Xanax is the only medication that will actually turn my head off and allow me to sleep..not any sleeping pills, not melatonin, not wine, not meditation techniques, not white noise, not total darkness in the room, nothing fucking works except that little damn pill.

So I guess my body is addicted to that pill.....I only take it at night, never in the day or any other time, in fact, Kevin keeps the pills with him so I do not even have access to them.  I have a history of being addicted to pills because of all the damn pills my doctors put me on...it took so much to get off of all those medications and I NEVER WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT.  But, here I am, dependent on a fucking pill so I can sleep.

I guess once a drug addict, always a drug addict.   

This is DID...nothing but a clusterfuck of the brain.   I am a fucking loser.

Sparrow, the loser.

cement beds

 So sometime last night,  around 4 am,(I think) I woke up with a start....I was flooded with a memory.   So I am going to try and write about it.

There were two little girls and they were drinking juice.  One of the little girls dropped her glass and broke it and her juice went all over the floor.  The mom got mad...the little girl said that the other little girl made her drop it...which was not true.

The mother threw a plastic plate at her,(the little girl being blamed) hitting her on the leg, then she threw another dish at her...the little girl tried to say she did not knock the glass out of the first little girls hand, yet the mother called her a liar and continued to throw items at her, trying to hit her..because she could no longer physically strike the little girl because the little girl would fight back.  So the mom, threw dishes and stuff at her instead. The little girl picked up some of the dishes and stuff and started throwing it back at the mother, as hard as she could...this went on for a bit, then the dad came home.

The dad saw the commotion and sat on his big chair and told the little girl to take his boots off...She was scared, and he yelled at her to take off his "goddamn boots" and yelled at the mom to get him a drink....the little girl tried to take off one boot, but it had such long laces and she was taking too long...the dad pulled off his boot and threw it at the little girl, hitting her in the chest, and saying "see how easy that was, you are useless, can't even take a shoe off..."  Her chest hurt and she ran outside.   It was dark outside, night time, and she heard the dad yelling in the house and a few things get smashed on the wall or floor, she wasn't sure, but she started running.  The little girl knew of one safe place, the only safe place in the world for her, so she set off running for that place.   She heard him yelling to come back home, "right now"...but she kept running away....he got in his car and tried to chase her, but in her mind "he wanted to run over her and kill her" so she ran and ran until she came to her safe place.

She squeezed through the fence and ran into the cemetery.   He would not come in there, he never followed her into that place.   She sat up against a stone bed and eventually fell asleep.  She slept there all night long...no one came after her, no one cared she was all alone in that place...and that was fine.  She was safe.   She slept.  (the little girl has no memory of what happened when she came back home the next morning....)

She learned that was a safe place to sleep.  She could never sleep in her bed because of him...but sleeping on a grave was peaceful and she would dream good dreams.  Much of her days after that, when her mom would tell her to "get out of the house, go outside" that is where she went.  And she would take a nap, or she would talk to the sleeping people there.

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As an adult, I have always found peace, quiet and solitude at cemeteries.  I gravitated to cemeteries my whole life and could never really understand why, only that "no one bothered you, or talked to you" at a cemetery.  You are always left alone....Cemeteries were my safe place.   Even in VA, when I first got here, I searched out cemeteries and would go there often.   I still enjoy cemeteries, especially the older ones with centuries old headstones...I feel a kinship of sorts with the dead.  

But, as I have gotten safer here,  I have stopped going to cemeteries.  When I see them off to the side of the road as I am driving, I still feel a draw to go into visit..most times, I drive right on by.   I no longer need the safety of the cemetery.  My home is safe, there is no one there to hurt me, no one to show up that might hurt me...I am safe.   

The memory is not a horrific one, but it is a terrifying one for a small child, and the terror is overwhelming, even more so than the pain and bruises...injuries heal and disappear, terror stays forever.  Terror comes in a moment, a trigger, PTSD, it is fast and completely all consuming emotion in the mind...

When a neighbor started verbally attacking me for stuff my neighbors were doing, I felt that terror...when he started walking down my driveway, I felt that terror, when Kevin was walking out to confront the man, I felt terror.  I knew the man was mistaken and I had done nothing to deserve his verbal assault, but I still felt the terror.   And that terror made my safe place, unsafe.   After Kevin confronted him,  he has left me alone, but when I drive by his house, or go to my mailbox, there is fleeting terror in my head that he will be outside and he will assault me again....I don't know if that fear will ever go away....

So that is my memory....the aftermath of the sleep over at the cemetery...I have no memory of that....did I get into trouble, was I punished, did they even care that I stayed out all night at the age of about 6 or 7,  did I go to school the next day, or was it a weekend?  I just don't remember.   Maybe that part of the dream, or memory doesn't matter, or maybe it matters so much, that it has been taken from me....

S

sophee

Overreacting....

 

 

So this morning Kevin made the statement that he wants to quit taking his statin for awhile because his joints hurt.  A previous statin caused him pain, and the doctor changed the medication.  He just wants to see if, in fact, its the statin he takes causing him pain.  

This hit me so hard.  He has the worst diet ever.  He eats fast food, packaged pre-made foods that contain fucking astronomical highs in cholesterol, sugar, and fats.  Plus he is a pack a day smoker.  I have asked him over and over to cut back on his smoking...NOT QUIT, but cut back.  He has ignored that request.  Now he wants to stop his statins that keep his cholesterol down.  How am I suppose to react to this announcement?

I guess I overreacted because I started crying and became very emotional.  Am I wrong in wanting him to live?????

His diet and smoking is a death sentence....doesn't he know how much he means to me?  Why does he think he is invincible?  Why does he ignore my need for him to live?  I feel he only gives me "lip service" but does not really care how I feel about him being healthier.   Alot of the time, I will cook a healthy meal for dinner, but he doesn't want it and won't eat it, saying he is still full from lunch...his lunch of fast food and sugary tea....I understand that change in behavior takes time, but at 62 yrs of age, just how much fucking time can he waste???????

I am petrified of being alone...he is literally all I have in this whole world.

So, I was on facebook and saw the above meme...It spoke to me...maybe I am not overreacting at all. but feeling triggered.  My daddy died of a heart attack in his 60's from years of smoking and eating red meat.  I was not able to "feel" his death in a healthy way as I was not in a safe place...all of my beloved pets that died at the hands of a monster, and I was not allowed to "feel loss or pain" for those pets...

His comments, Kevin, about stopping the statin medication was very triggering to me.  My head heard "I don't care how you feel, its not about you"....when it IS ABOUT FUCKING ME...I CAN'T LOOSE HIM...but when I got upset, he just got defensive about his decision.   

What if I said to him "Kevin, I am gonna shoot a little dope into my arms, just to see if I will feel better..."  He would not allow that....but what he said to me is the exact same damn thing.....fuck, and I have to allow his decision, because I DON'T REALLY MATTER...I feel he thinks my opinions about healthy behavior in our eating and such is silly....KEVIN IS NOT INVINCIBLE, HE IS A MAN IN AN OLDER BODY KILLING HIMSELF ALITTLE EVERYDAY WITH HIS CHOICE OF MEALS AND HIS REFUSAL TO CUT DOWN ON HIS SMOKING.

Well so be it.  If he does not care about himself, or how I feel about him being healthy, then I don't care about myself.  I will do whatever I want...if I want to shoot some dope, I fucking will............................................................................

S, 7

continuing dreams

 The past two or three nights I have been having dreams...I have had very restless sleep...I will wake up in the night after a dream and think "WTF", then I go back to sleep, only to resume the dream...it goes on and on all night.  But once I get up in the morning, I cannot remember the dream.

I hate that.   If I grab a notepad and write down the dream in the middle of the night, It will completely wake me up and I am unable to go back to sleep...this is why I don't jot down dreams in the night....

I think it has something to do with Ally, the dreams.  But I don't feel any dread about the dream or if it is an impending memory...I have had such fucked up memories, that nothing could surprise me now...I just wish, that if this is some sort of memory, I wish it would just fucking come to the surface..I hate the wait game.

On another note, I am now a official weekly dog walker for St Francis Service Dog organization.  I was a substitute walker, now I walk every thursday starting at 9 am.  I get to walk future service dogs.  I love it.

S

Valentines day

 Today is Valentines Day.  And I woke up to a card, flowers and chocolates from Kevin, and a stuffie and card from my critters....AWE

I have said over and over, I do not like getting chocolates and flowers as a gift, as I feel it is a cliche of the day.   

But seeing those very cliches, made me smile, and "I loved it!"  He is also taking me to dinner at a very nice restaurant in downtown Roanoke called "Billys"...which I have eaten there once before and it was so good!   

I love that I finally feel loved.

And I know that those items were not last minute grabs to appease the girl,  they were given to me out of his love for me...I feel I do not deserve the type of love Kevin has for me, but I am grateful and humbled beyond belief.  

As a trauma victim, it is so hard to let people love us, to love someone unconditionally and to accept gifts...there is no ulterior motive, I know that, and now my heart is finally getting the memo.

I deserve to be loved for who I am, and that is exactly what Kevin does.  He loves me, all of me...wow.  

Happy happy Valentines Day!

S