I don’t remember the last time I described what’s happening in my mind from a first-hand-like perspective, and I figured this could give some insight to my behaviors and current state of mind, or at least more insight.
In December, I only went to therapy once due to the dental work I had done and the holidays. I had hydrocodone prescribed for pain from the procedure, and the last week of December I found myself in holiday overwhelm, online drama from a misunderstanding and a complete state of numb. I really didn’t care much about anyone or anything, and I slept the majority of the week. As far as I consciously know, I wasn’t online much.
January took a swing at me, and although I felt slightly fine, I despised the new year had come along and that I was [basically] at the same state as I was in January 2013 — only I had a therapist — and that family still wasn’t as supportive as I’d dreamt. I began to unwind.
February stormed in, and I began to flood, then I became holey, unable to mend the damage. It was too much, and I began to lose control of my head. I hate when people ask if I’m okay or if I need to talk, or when they tell me I’ll be alright or that there’s a plan for me. I hate when they check up on me, and I hate when they ask about therapy. I hate it even more when they ask me about working/finding a job or when they bring up going to school. A slight addiction to pain pills began, but it was because I craved that ‘I don’t care’ feeling they gave me. I was summoned for jury duty, but because anxiety was eating me alive over the idea of going into a courtroom and being around many law enforcement figures, I received an exemption letter that I hope will be accepted. Last week, sleep consisted of flashbacks and alternate present times, which is more exhausting than it may seem. The last dream of such I had was the one from Sunday night, which ended with my mom’s funeral.
Most of the time, I have no clue as to who I am. I don’t know if I’m really asleep and just dreaming, I don’t know if my head is merely imagining it, I don’t know if I’ve dissociated — until I notice something I didn’t notice before, I don’t know what is happening in my life.
I’ve never explained what happens when things get ‘bad’ — when I lose control — and when I’ve tried to, I’m deemed a liar, insane, or someone who just wants attention.
A few weeks ago, I ‘blacked out’ for two days. Others refer to it as dissociation. I don’t know what ‘I’ did in those two days, but I did something — I saw emails sent and written in a sophisticated manner, I noticed I’d folded my clothes the way stores do and the way I used to — and I’ve only what I can trace back for proof that I was active somewhere.
In the past, I would freak out when things would happen, or I would laugh, or I would cry. Soon after, I was taught not to react in any of those ways, and I have developed a reaction that causes me to dissociate — sometimes it’s daydreaming, sometimes it’s dissociative episodes, sometimes it’s out of body experiences, many times it’s identities.
After realizing I’ve dissociated, however, I do want to freak out.
And, for the last time, I do not work (nor am I in school) because those problems will not go away on their own if I ‘don’t think about it’. I have multiple identities. With some, I’m friends; others do what they wish, sometimes helping me out in the process.
I’m going to a psychiatrist soon to have a proper diagnosis, as well to look into medication for my depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc.
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Harmonious | Janepedia
[…] outside of my body, watching what was happening to my body and unable to stop anything. And then, time would pass, and I’d have no recollection of what I did. And I didn’t understand it, but no matter […]
This sounds so scary, I have experienced some, “Not sure what’s real or not,” in my lifetime – about 6 years ago I went through a short phase where I was never sure if I dreamed something happened, or if it actually happened, and I had no idea what was real, and I definitely found it very unsettling.
However, it was not nearly as extreme as what you’re describing, and it fortunately only lasted for a few months.
Just curious – have you ever written blog entries when in that state? Are any of the posts ‘not you’?
This sounds really hard, and I don’t have any advice really. I’d do my absolute best to stay positive and continue seeking professional help, but otherwise? I don’t know! Definitely medication, I know some people are anti-meds but there is a time and a place, and I’m sure this is a suitable time-and-place for that….
It really is scary! I can’t find the post about where I explained very specifically how I felt or what I can recall happening, but a similar post is ‘Lost in time’.
I actually have written and published posts that ‘weren’t me’. The ‘Links a la Carte’ posts are from one fragment, who is into the cliquey things and fitting in. Most rants are from “Cinna”, who is both my enemy (because sometimes I personally suffer from her actions) and my ‘friend’ (because she takes over when I clearly can’t handle something). There was a time when I went by “Liza”, which was the longest time period any of my fragments have had the reins the majority of the time.
I’m looking forward to trying out the medication, because I’m hoping it’ll give me some kind of control over myself and my self. Eventually, I’ll change my name legally so I can completely drop my first name, “Sarah”, which is a fragment I struggle with dropping — especially since so many people still address me by it despite my constant requests to go by “Liz”.
I agree with you – issues won’t go away if you just “don’t think about it”. One of those things that are easy for people to say when the situation didn’t happen to them.
I know this is a difficult time and I’ll try not to give you platitudes. I hope your visit to the psychiatrist will help, but remember your own strength. You’ve survived a hell. There will be side effects to getting yourself through it, but you have the ability, if anyone does.
I also want you to know, your writing grows stronger and stronger. None of us want to be alone with our pain. By sharing yours, you will touch someone who visits and is in a similar place.
Keep writing. As you know, I didn’t have a great childhood myself. I still suffer side effects from this. Maybe not the same as you, but they bring me down, as well.
It’s my writing that truly saved me. Now, when I look back through my old journals, I see there was a wise voice who guided me in my darkest times. I’ve visited your site long enough to know you also have a wise voice inside you, as well, and it comes out in your writing. So, write and then write some more….