Lothlórien

What Integration Means to Me

Integration is a tough topic for people with DID. People fear that parts will be erased, killed off, disappeared in some way that will leave them fealing incomplete. Parts of the self fear annihilation. With this belief, it is no wonder that the word integration has been dubbed "The I-Word" and is seldom spoken about in social circles among individuals with DID, and when it is, it conjures up huge defenses, fear, anger, and any other emotion you can think of. It is my desire here to talk about what integration means to me. These are my thoughts and feelings, and as such, they may match your own in some ways, or they may differ significantly.

Throughout my own therapy I have had mixed feeling about integration. There were times that I feared integration because I feared losing parts. I also feared the unknown, and feared losing the capacity to to dissociate. Initially I felt safe being able to do so. How would I manage without it? Then there were times when I feared I might not integrate! Like I may be DID forever and not get any better. I wondered how in the world someone who has functioned like this for so many years could ever function any differently. After awhile I decided to just "let it go." I decided to focus on healing (mine and all aspects of myself), and let be what will be. Lo and behold, that is when I actually did begin seeing some changes.

The first change in the system that I noticed was that two of my younger parts began to fuse together. How did I know this? Because I could no longer tell them apart. At first this was disturbing. It was sort of like how you night feel if suddenly you couldn't tell your real live children apart. However, over time I began to realize that both were still there. Neither had disappeared, and in fact they had blended together to make one child part. Since none of each child part's specialness was "taken away", I adjusted to this. I then subsequently noticed this occuring with other parts. There were two adult "ANP" (Apparently Normal Parts) that began to not only fuse together but begin to fuse together with me. This was welcomed whole-heartedly. I did not have any problem with this. All the aspects of each part were clearly still there, but they were no longer discernable as separate. They were part of me. 

Over the years, I have noticed that some parts seem just sort of nowhere. I know---gasp! Some of them, I could do without, and good ridance! I had a couple of introject parts, and as I worked on some of this in therapy, the words of those introject parts got placed, rightfully so, onto the person they belonged to--my perpetrators. So, in essense I took them out of me, and put them back where they came from, which is fine by me. Some other parts have healed and their presence is not differentiated from the self at all anymore. One other, I can't say she is "gone" but I don't "hear" from her anymore, nor do I know where she is. She is a highly depressive, suicidal part, and being that my meds have been effective, and I have been free from depression now for years, who knows.....

Back to my child parts, after the fusing and some fusing of other parts, I really began to see my child parts differently. I began to see them more as "little me". To date, my perception of these younger selves is more like "inner children" than separate parts. I do not consider them "alters" anymore. They are me. They are me when I was young. They are a little me.  They are part of who I am. After that, I began looking at other parts and realizing that they, too, were all part of me.

So, where do I stand now? Do I consider myself integrated? Yes, and no. Currently, for the most part, I consider myself integrated in the sense that some parts have integrated in the traditional way, and others are no longer walled off in any way. There is no "lost time". They are all present all the time to some degree. There are no more secrets. There is no need for struggles about "shared time", we all have time in some way all the time because we are all here all the time. I tend to think in metaphors a lot, and the image of my integration that comes to mind is that of Jello. At some point, Jello is separate ingredients, then they are mixed together, then they become one object (Jello) that is a conglomeration of all the ingredients. When the Jello is put in the freezer, it begins to solidify. For me, I feel like Jello that is partially solidified, but still too wobbly to be "ready". 

So, what do I think will come later? Honestly, I think I will become more and more integrated in the traditional sense, but I would not be surprised if on some level I still feel that separateness. In my heart, I will always be DID. However, I do see a day where I will function totally as one whether that be "truly one" or "collectively" as one. Does it matter? My opinion? No. What matters most is true healing, peace, being able to function in a wholistic way with openness and flexibility internally. For me, there is a feeling of completeness, wholeness, and I do not feel I have lost anything of value from any part that is or was previously a part of my system. The blessings each part brought to the system, are now shared by all. Nothing has "gone away". Nothing feels "lost." Each part will forever live inside me, they just may not continue to exist in such a way that they feel as if they are a separate entity.

As I mentioned before, my thoughts about integration are ever evolving, so as I progress, my thoughts and feelings may change over time. This is just where I am today. To read more that I have written on integration, follow the links below.

Brief Statement on Integration

Integration Insight

Integration in Progress

PS---I just have to say this one last thing. As a previous educator I am more than familiar with the phrase, "No Child Left Behind". In some ways, integration begins when there is "No Part Left Behind." :)

 

Copyright© 2012 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Therapy Epiphany

It has been a long time since I have written about how I am doing. Winter quarter was busy this year because I started my field practicum where I work 2 full time days in an agency. Between that and schoolwork, I hardly had time to write.

Briefly, field practicum went very well. As I mentioned before in an earlier post, I was working for an agency that provides mental health services and support to children and families. The agency provides mental health clinicians for a special school in the district that services children with severe emotional/behavioral disorder. I worked in this area for many years as a teacher doing pretty much the same exact thing, so next quarter I will be moving on to another agency to get experience in an area that I am not familiar with already. I will be working in an agency that provides mental health services for adults with severe and persistent mental illness (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and major depression). I'm a little nervous because I work very well with children, but I have not really worked with adults before. I start there next week.

In therapy, there has been a realization that the DID is still lingering around. I had thought that it was becoming a thing of the past and that I had integrated, but apparently not. I had a session a few weeks ago where my therapist told me things I had said and done in session that I did not recall and absolutely did not fit with my character. I honestly didn't believe her, but it was in her notes. The short version of the story is that instead of having "little" alters out and around, I had my best ANP (reference to "apparently normal part" re: structural dissociation) out in full force. Not having "littles" around had me convinced the DID was gone, but it was not.  Having this confident "all is ok" part out caused me great problems. This part was acting as if all is fine, and my therapist suggested we drop to sessions every two weeks. I could not understand this, and she said that I basically have been coming into sessions talking about normal stuff and not seeming to have any problems at all. When I would think back, I wouldn't remember what she described at all, but I wouldn't say anything either. I would just sit there perplexed as to why she thinks I'm doing so well. The jist......it was this ANP. So a few weeks ago when it was CLEAR I was not recalling sesisons and that there has obviously been a huge switch going on, we changed my sessions back to weekly. It was a very difficult time for me. Thinking I was "done" just to be high on ANP...... Since then I have been trying to keep things more balanced. I need this part, but I also need my emotional self because one part ignores the other, and I end up not getting my needs met. I have my T, family, and friends willing to help me, and I can't receive that help if I can't ask for it, tell someone what I'm feeling, and be present with it.

Speaking of which, I had a huge epiphany today after therapy. For as long as I can remember, I have besically lived from day to day, even during the good times. It's like each morning I think to myself, "What can I do to get through the day?", and at each days end I am thinking, "I made it through another day." I was thinking of that this week, so I discussed it in session. I feel like it is such a struggle for me just to get through life. Even during good times, it takes all my strength to "be ok." I hate this! I feel so inferior to the norm. I also commented that I feel so tired all the time and that I wish I could just let go. There is so much more to living than making it through the day. I want to be able to just let go and live! So, anyway......I left therapy and on the ride home I had this huge epiphany. When I got home, I had to write my T. Here is a copy of that email.

A thought/image came to mind in regards to "I made it through another day," and,"I'm always holding on. I wish I could just 'let go'." I thought of the poem Footprints, and realized part of the reason I feel this way is that I am always carrying myself. Even as a little kid, my mom could not "carry" me, therefore I carried myself. No wonder I get tired. Then I began to think of/imagine letting someone else "carry" me for just awhile.....metaphorically "hold me", and though there was a dreamy wish for that it was quickly replaced by a strong sence of distrust...the fear of being metaphorically  dropped. Even in session, how nice it would be to feel that moments, thoughts, fears, etc could be momentarily "held" with the two of us, but still, I hold on. Fear of letting go. Fear of being metaphorically dropped. The point.....I can work on this. :) Won't be easy, but I can work on this, and perhaps I may not feel so tired all the time. Perhaps I might feel more like I'm living than just hanging on. Perhaps there will be less focus on "making it through the day."

I just had to put those thoughts ut there before I "lost" them.

(Later this evening.....)

Ooo! Ooo! Sudden epiphany number 2! If I can "hold" myself, then I could "catch" myself should I metaphorically fall.

Ah-ha!!!!!

Hmmmm......
Lots to think about!

(no need to reply) :)

She did reply. She is so sweet. To the first one, she commented that it was quite an epiphany and thanked me for sharing it. To the second one, she just wrote, "Smiling.....". :) I love my T, and my huge epiphany is helping me feel pretty good right now. :)

Copyright© 2012 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Personal Journal Entry (June 19, 2009)

**Epiphany!

Why I fear conflict with my parents…..
Why it hurts me when they are upset, angry, etc. with me…..
Why I can’t just let it be their stuff like I can with others……
Why I just can’t let their words blow through me…
Why I can’t seem to let it go….

Because I internalize the things they say. When they say hurtful things to me, I internalize it and my self worth suffers.

Now, how to not do that. I think this could be a good job for some of the system to help me with. I need lots of positive self talk. It may help if I can internally follow up their negativity with positive self talk/affirmations. I need my own internal cheering squad. 

Copyright© 2012 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Amazing Session-Sensorimotor Psychotherapy

I had been having problems this past week where I would get this sudden sinking feeling. It would happen several times a day and would be followed by a sense of destabilization and last about 30 minutes or so. It did not disrupt my functioning, but it put a dent in it as I had to stop what I was doing and mange it in the moment before I could go on about my day. It was also bothersome to me. I did not know exactly what t was about. On my way to therapy, I speculated that it may have some to do with my mother’s death because we are approaching the one year mark, and I have been thinking of it a good bit. Thoughts like, “This time last year…..(blah, blah, blah).”

When I got into therapy, I shared my experience with my T and my speculation of what it was about. She then used a lot of the sensorimotor therapy to help me process what was going on, which was very appropriate because what I was experiencing was really purely somatic without much emotion or thought connected to it.

First she asked me to describe the sinking feeling which I said was like someone was reaching up in my body and pulling me down. It was like a hand was reaching up the inside of my torso, grabbing me and pulling down. She asked what area of the body are they pulling? What is being pulled? Tracking my internal sense, I responded with, “My voice.” Yes, it felt like a hand was reaching up inside me from the bottom of my torso, grabbing my voice and pulling it down.  I told her it was like my vocal chords can’t vibrate. Which then reminded me of the incident at the hospital because the first thing I tried to do when I woke up (in the middle of a procedure) was to talk, and my vocal chords would not vibrate. We sat with that a minute, and then moved on.

It was cool because we were really following and tracking this somatic response all the way through to see where it would lead. She kept asking me open ended questions that pushed it further to what now, what next, etc. I then felt a sinking feeling , had a sense of darkness moving across me as if it was night, and the desire to turn away and curl in a ball. When asked about that, I replied, “I don’t want to see it. I just want to make it go away. I want to go away.” I encouraged myself not to go away, and to instead internally turn to face it.

I then felt numb but interestingly only on the bottom half of my body. I literally could not feel that part of me anymore. We noted that, talked about what was good about that (I don’t have to feel pain). Then shortly after I felt numb all over. We discussed what part of the body initiates “numb all over”. I told her, “You don’t want to know.” We worked with that awhile, noticing what’s good about the ability to be numb all over, etc. She asked me to ask that part why it makes me numb, and I got “fear” and an internal felt sense that that part was pushing me away. Like it didn’t want anyone to bother it. Like it was holding out its arms and sweeping across the body as if to shoo a fly away. Part of sensorimotor therapy is identifying actions the body, mind, soul wanted to perform during trauma and allowing those actions to be completed in the here and now. It actually disrupts the loop in the brain and releases that urge, creates a sense of completion and mastery.  So she asked me to do that, and I felt frozen. I felt like I couldn’t move at all. I sat there very tight and nearly motionless, however, she picked up on the fact that I was making very tiny movements with my thumb, rubbing across the ring I was wearing  on the other hand.  She asked me to notice that. We talked about what that did for me. It wasn’t conscious, but it provided me some comfort, and we also discovered, as sensory distraction. My mind went to when my father used to molest me, and how all my memories have holes in them. I still have huge gaps in those memories, but one thing that is always remembered is whatever I was holding in my hand or rubbing. Like once in the woods, we were on a blanket, and I honestly only remember feeling scared, darkness, and the feeling in my left hand as I opened and closed it repeatedly on the blanket and felt the crunching fall leaves crumbling underneath. We talked about this, and how I tended to use that small sensory resource to take my mind off what was happening, to fade into that feeling, to feel a different feeling unrelated to what was happening to me. 

Shortly after that we explored the resources that were inherent in all of that. And throughout the whole process, I had an image of my father in the upper right corner of my mind, but I had no memory, no story, etc. I began to feel better, and she recapped the whole experience back to me, and low and behold we had just tracked my trauma response somatically. Those were the stages my body went through during the trauma. Literally, first this, then that, etc. We literally tracked it all the way through. Looking back, it was amazing!!!!!!!

First, I would feel as if someone reached up and grabbed my voice. I would then be reminded of a past trauma where I couldn't speak/move/etc. (Hospital surgical awareness). I would then feel a sinking, and mentally experience darkness and a turning away, as if I was pulling into myself (dissociation). I would then feel a moment of intense fear which immediately triggered a bodily numbing response. I would feel frozen, as if I couldn't move, but my hand would grab onto something and hold it, rub it, etc as a distraction or absorption to black out everything else. This would continue until it was over. Then there would be a sense of relief followed by grief. Very interesting!

We also later figured out what had triggered all this to come up for me this week. Earlier in the week my oldest daughter asked me if her grandfather (my dad) was an alcoholic. I did discuss it some with her, but noticed that I felt completely high as if I had just smoked a joint, and backed off the topic. I guess that was enough to fire off body memories.

Our appointment was in the morning, and I went the entire rest of the day not having any sinking feeling, where as before it was happening multiple times daily.  I also felt a sense of relief, and sheer exhaustion. When I do major processing like this, I seriously need a nap!!! It’s unreal how much it takes out of you physically and emotionally.

I just thought the whole process was amazing. To me, therapy in itself is amazing. The ability to transform things internally, reroute crap stuck in the amygdala and push it on through is unbelievable. I think I will never cease to be amazed.

 Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Sifting Through Memories

I have not written very much lately. My family is planning a move to a new house. We entered into contract a couple of weeks ago, and we move in the beginning of October. It is an exciting time, but it has also been a very busy time.

What I want to write about here today is the experience I have had of stumbling upon things while packing that remind me of my life and journey in healing. I have had some profound moments.

One day I went through my bedroom and just sifted through things trying to get rid of whatever I don't want to take with me. It was fun actually. It was like a miniature trip down memory lane. I found pictures of the kids, pictures from when I was little (good ones), an old picture from the '80's of my dad's 1928 Model A car. He purchased it, redid it, and took it to shows. He also drove around in it sometimes, and my sister and I would sit in the rumble seat. We loved it! Sometimes we used to turn around and make faces at the drivers behind us. LOL (kids...)

I found folders from when I was in the hospital (psychiatric/trauma program), and skimmed through just a bit. Saw little writings from my "littles" and remembered them fondly, appreciating their little words scrawled out in the little handwriting. Sometimes I miss that. Those things don't happen anymore, and while that is a good thing, sometimes I miss it. I know that sounds weird, but....I don't know. That's just how I feel sometimes. I shared this moment with my previoous therapist, and she asked me how it felt to see those writings again. I know I felt profound love, empathy, and admiration for those parts.  The courage to face the trauma, the courage to speak when we learned early on to squelch the parts. (Yes, I remember switching at an early age and my mother berating and humiliating me for it.) I consider those parts a precious part if ME. Their words are my little words squashed for years and finally set free. When I saw them, I kind of missed them (my younger parts), but I didn't at all miss being DID! Those parts are still with me, but they are resolved and absorbed into the essence that is me. I think I only miss them sort of like when you miss when your children were little. You really wouldn't want it back like that, but there are fond memories. I think I was different than many. I never "hated" my younger parts. I was embarassed at first. Then intrigued. Then loving and protective toward them. It was weird looking at the writings in the sense that it has been so, so long since I have experienced "parts"(at least it feels long to me), and now where I stand, I can't imagine ever being "little" again. It's hard to believe I was so split for so long and now I can't even imagine being like that again.

I found letters I had written my grandmother from camp as a kid. My aunt had sent them to me after my grandmother passed away in 2006. Apparently my grandmother kept all of those things. There were pictures I colored for her, too. Very precious.... My mother didn't keep squat! She was not nostalgic at all. I have kept a lot of things as my own children have grown. They each have a "Baby Box" that has all kinds of stuff from their first years in it. We go through them periodically. They love it!

This afternoon I was packing up some things in my bathroom, and I found my hidden "stash" of razors.

Sigh-------

I sat with them in my hands for a few moments. My desperate moments ran across my memory. I felt such sadness for "that me." I was in such a dark hole. I remember having such tunnel vision during those times. I could see no way out. Everything was just deep and dark.

Sigh------

I want to say that was so long ago. It seems like a lifetime ago. But it was only about 2 years.....

Wow. That was just a profound experience.

Of course I got rid of them.

It was kind of weird....It's like I have a whole new life. Like when I threw them out I was throwing out a discarded skin. Weird...

I will write more if more comes up for me as I pack. It has turned out to be a very enlightening process.

Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

 

Therapy Session (re:Father Issues)

For the past week I have felt utterly depressed. I really couldn't make heads or tails out it. I felt very sleepy all the time. I wanted to stay home and do nothing. Just sleep and hide. I didn't even want to eat. I felt like I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat, and I lost 4 pounds in this week alone, which didn't help because calorie restriction makes one tired and depressed. Vicious cycle....

I had some ideas of what may be behind it. One idea was medication. I had recently been playing around with my medication in an effort to strike a balance between feeling good and actually enjoying some sort of sex life. I found that at half does of Lexapro the sex was satisfying, but depression was creeping in, so I had to reluctantly go back to the usual does. Anyway, so one thought I had was that quite possibly I have just been messing with my medication entirely too much and thrown my system out of whack. Thought number two, this weekend is the closing on my mother's house. I am traveling back to my hometown for this, and it opens up the woulnd of my mother's death all over again. Add to that that I will be seeing my father (ugh). Thought number three, my therapist is going on vacation next week and I won't see her for two weeks, and when she gets back we had planned to begin trauma processing via EMDR re: issues with my father. Of course this could be it as well. So many things, and I had no clue.

I went to therapy pitiful...dragged myself there actually, because really all I wanted to do was go home and go to sleep for like.....hmmm....forever? But I was really hoping she would help me sort this all out, and it was very helpful. It was quickly apparent this all has to do with issues regarding my father. In part the processing of it and in part the issue of seeing him this weekend. I have to go back to my hometown this weekend for the closing on my mother's house.

My therapist and I talked a lot about my father, the things that he's done, the mind games he played (ie saying what just happened didn't happen), and it's effect on me. Tough session, and I had to come home and let it all sink in for a bit. It was helpful though.

Afterwards, I sent this email to my therapist. Hopefully you guys can make some sense of it without me telling you the whole story. I think the only confusing part would be re: my father's mind games. He would literally look me dead in the face and tell me what  just happened didn't happen, and I would be so confused as a kid. It's like I would think to myself, "What?" and he would be saying,"This just did not happen." And I would think,"Yes it did.", "Huh?" I would be so confused, and add to that confusion the fact that I was dissociative and what just happened on some level didn't feel real and I was one totally confused little kid. It was a great mind f*ck my young little brain could not unwind. Also my therapist and I talked about how would it feel to be able to say I don't want to have contact with him. Ack!!!! Little ones inside abound!!! We also talked about setting limits with him, or hence my inability to do so, as I am like the baby elephant that grew up tied to a stake who now as an adult thinks she is still unable to break away from that stick even though I've grown and could easily do so. No way I could possibly share with you all I gained from the session, but I would like to share my follow-up email to my therapist with you that sort of sums it up.

"T",

I just got home, but I wanted to share some after thoughts if that's ok.

When I first got in the car, I was contemplating the idea of confrontation. Just sitting with that thought, I guess. And when I pulled out of the parking lot this young self sprang a loud thought across my mind,"But what if he really didn't do anything?" That was like, out of nowhere. So then I am "listening" to that, and all I could think of is he really screwed me up.

So then I'm driving along, and it occurs to me that possibly my not wanting to do anything/go anywhere (current feelings) is an expansion of my desire not to go "there" (my hometown) and "there" as in"back there" revisiting the memories in therapy. In essence this little one inside doesn't want to go see him, doesn't want to face the trauma, and hence doesn't want to do anything.

I also am aware (and have been for quite sometime), that I have a tendency to bypass fight/flight and go straight to shut down. Almost like playing possum. Like if I just freeze, numb out, sleep, go away, I will be ok.

I am guessing that is how I dealt with trauma eventually which makes sense to me, especially now having read some of the Pat Ogden book (Trauma and the Body: A Sensorimotor Approach to Psychotherapy). I mean if social engagement and fight/flight proved fruitless over and over again, it makes sense I would skip it all and go to shutdown mode.

I guess those sorts of things are behind my tiredness, withdrawal, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. I'm essentially curling into a ball like a roly poly.

That's sad......

Perhaps that little one inside needs to do that. But perhaps I can comfort her and allow her to stay safe inside while I stay protectively on the outside. I think over the last few days that "little one" has been front and center, and it's really my fault. I have been denying the existence of those little parts for a long time. I just felt so much better and so much more integrated after processing the hospital, I felt "cured". Then I ditched the whole idea that I was remotely DID anymore at all and shut down my willingness to listen. I so wanted to be done, and I wasn't open to my insiders, but it's not over til it's over, I guess.

I hope that what I wrote makes sense. Sometimes I feel like I'm making sense out of what to many people may sound like nonsense.

(((((hugs)))))

"Me"

Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Processing "THE" Trauma-Part 4

I had another EMDR session. The "negative charge"/SUD is continuing to go down and move out, but still when I pull up the image of the lights (the first thing I saw when I woke up) my eyes immediately sting and tears just stream down my face. So, my therapist and I started with that image.

Before we started, as my T was getting all set up, I felt this overwhelming clingy-ness. I wanted to pull her close to me and wrap my arms around her like I was drowning! I really had to hold myself back from pulling on her, reaching for her hand, etc. (I didn't want to look ridiculous!) Though I didn't act on it, I did tell her I felt very clingy.

We started the EMDR, and the feelings went right to intense fear and longing. The phrase "I want my Mommy" was screaming through my consciousness! Another set yielded panic and,"I want my Mommy. I want her now, now, now, now, now!!!!" One more set of that and then on another set I began to go numb, I could feel myself pushing it away and then found myself in the dark bliss of dissociation (in my thoughts, memories, emotions--not really dissociated in that moment).It occured to me then how powerfully reinforcing the dissociation was. Being able to "get away" helped me feel powerful in a situation where I was really powerless. It also took the pain away (physically and emotionally).

Interesting session! Interesting because I don't ever recall "wanting my mommy" for anything at any point in my life. I guess because after that, perhaps I never "reached out for her again." I know I was angry with her when the surgery was over. I remember feeling dead to her. Looking at her and looking away. We did EMDR with this as well and those feelings were strong and the thought, "Where were you?" followed by a disregard of her on my point passed through my consciousness. I felt like, "You weren't there when I really needed you. I don't want you now." And then to tell her,"I know what they did," and have that responded with a dismissive, "No you don't. You were asleep," sealed the deal. I was detached.

I don't think that one incident is where the attachment went awry. I know from the way my mother raised me and how she interacted with my own kids as infants that the attachment was damaged already. But I think I had just enough positive attachment to emotionally reach out to her in the face of "terror" and/or "death". I suppose it makes sense because when I think about it, if I had experienced that incident and NOT felt an intense need for my Mommy in that moment, I would probably have Reactive Attachment Disorder instead of DID. The attachment would've had to be unbelievably severely damaged for me to not want my Mommy in a situation like that. So there was some attachment, albeit a damaged one which was further damaged after this.

So now I'm drawn to the clingy-ness for which I am SO noted for with my therapists! ;) And there it is! My little self was still reaching out for comfort---perpetually reaching for what was needed, never could get, and never could resolve. That's it! And you know what? Since this EMDR session,  it is as if that intense desire has faded. Like a huge "a-ha" moment has occurred, and I'm ok. I don't feel like I need to do that....I do not feel the "desparate" need for attachment....not at all! Of course I still want attachments, but I don't have that desparate quality to it. I feel fine and safe within myself, and it's a good feeling. I'm ok, and the little part of me is ok too.

I really should've known the cliny-ness I experienced with my therapist was due to attchment issues with my mom because I do not have a history of being clingy in general. No one who knows me outside of therapy would ever characterize me that way. Interestingly, it has only presented itself in therapy situations, where (duh--!!) I have tended to have female therapists who were, on average, about 20 years older than me and, by virtue of the therapeutic relationship, were very responsive to me emotionally. Transference, transference, and more transference! So, duh-----it's all been about resolving attachment needs (re: my mom). I was always seeking attachment to a "mother figure"..... always seeking that comfort, that "soft place to fall", and a "grown up" to lean on. I used to liken myself to one of Harlow's monkeys when it came to my desire to be in close proximity to my therapists. These poor therapists I have seen. How patient they all were! One of the four T's I've seen saw this clingy-ness in me and slapped a Borderline diagnosis on me. None of the other T's did, not even a specialist in BPD that led a DBT group I was in. I'm not Borderline, nor have I ever been. I just had an aching heart, and thanks to some patience, trauma processing, and EMDR that aching heart has been soothed. :)

This has all helped me so much. I feel like a different person (not like DID--LOL). Just so much happier, free, etc. My perceptions of things are changing....changing to a more integrated perception as opposed to a focused, tunnel-visioned perception. I am getting a proper distance from it all which puts me in a place of being able to look at it all with some objectivity, free of the intense emotions.

My previous therapist, who I still keep in touch with from time to time said that integration can be a lonely time for peoplewith DID. However, so far, I feel significantly less lonely! I feel more connected to people in my life. I think for me I was very lonely with DID. Probably because I was in my own internal world and not as open as I could be to the world around me. I can actually feel the connections I have with people. I feel "out" not "in", and it feels good. Life is also much calmer.

My session was actually yesterday. Today I have felt ok. I have felt good for the most part, but I feel very pensive about the attachment stuff, I feel sad for myself, and a bit tearful about my life as a kid. What this has also brought up is that with my attachment with my mom so damaged, I clung to my father who was available for attachment. He did things my mother never did.....things all parent should do. He told me he loved me, he hugged me, gave me kisses (appropriate ones), told me stories, let me sit next to him, even on his lap if I wanted! However, he was two Daddies. The one I just described was the sober Daddy. There was also the drunk Daddy who blurred the boundaries, kissed me inappropriately, blah, blah, blah (not going there). The realization this attachment stuff brings up is that I had to do whatever I could to keep that attachment with my father because it was the only attachment I had. Catch-22. It is just painful, so sometimes I do not feel so good, and I know there is so much more ahead of me on this journey called therapy. However, mostly I feel good because the processing I have done has helped so much. I feel so much growth. I feel great overall.I just keep taking it day-by-day.

**Image is "mother love"......what I wanted, what I needed, what I spent most of my life seeking. That "soft place to fall".

Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Integration in Progress

I BAWLED in therapy Wednesday. Over the past several months I have felt more integrated. More and more I feel like anyone else with PTSD. I have shared this with my T and some friends a few times over. I talked about it here on the blog in my first post on Processing "THE" Trauma in reference to the integration of experience I had through processing. I mentioned as I processed it was like a "braiding" occurring between parts and myself. Over these weeks of processing there has been increased fusing, so my T asked me about the "state of affairs" in the system. Immediately tears just shot out my eyes. It was most unexpected. I just bawled because it is all me. Everything has happened to me. No longer do I look at it as "Molly", or "Windy", or "Michelle", or whoever. It's me, and even if I'm in touch with that 'little self', it is no different now than anyone else being in touch with their little self. I don't lose identity, there's not detachment. It's just me, and I just bawled for myself and the "ownership" of it all. I can't explain what this process felt like. It is beyond words. I just hurt for myself....It's all me, my life, my experience, I lived it, I had to deal with it. This affected me, parts were created to help ME. There was no other way to cope.

Driving home from therapy I am always pensive about the session, and I was thinking about all this and the BASK model of dissociation came to mind. According to Braun, BASK refers to the four components of consciousness: Behavior, Affect, Senses, and Knowledge. People with DID have aspects of these areas of consciousness dissociated out. I don't know why this came to my mind, but it did, and I realized I am no longer dissociated in these ways. There is no dissociation of behavior (I don't dissociate and have parts do things anymore) or affect (I feel all my feelings in an integrated fashion). There's no dissociation of the senses or knowledge (I know everything).

Tears are "leaking" down my face as I write.

It's hard to let go.....

Do you know what I mean?

Later that day as it was all still sinking in, I felt like the walls of dissociation were crumbling around me. Most of my life I have felt like I have been standing in the middle of a tight stone "fortress". How can I describe this? It looks like a fortress, or like Rapunzel's tall round castle. I have been inside standing in the middle surrounded by the stone wall and each stone is a part, an alter (though really I never had THAT many---just "work with me here").  Now it feels like the walls around me are crumbling down. Down, down, down. And I am just watching it go. It's like the wall is no longer needed, like it's done it's job and is now washing away, but I'm still sort of scared watching it go. All that's left is just me standing vulnerable in the rubble. Crying.....But I'm ok. I wonder now how I will step out of that circle, and will there be people outside of it in the real world ready to greet me? For now I just stand in it and say goodbye. Goodbye to the wall----

Odd how it will be missed.......

That's what I mean when I say,"It's hard to let go." Watching the system dismantle around me is like giving up a treasured "special blankie" when you out grow it. It's ratty and old, it's no longer useful, but it has comforted you for so long and has sentimental value.

I shared this visual with my T, and she really liked it. She said it so clearly described a very powerful experience for which there aren't really words. She also said she had been observing this change in me for quite some time and felt like integration had been happening for awhile. A tell tale sign for her was when my mother was diagnosed with cancer and died. She said I handled the whole situation in a completely integrated manner, and she began to wonder what chabges were going on inside. She was pretty sure I was integrating.

Though I had some insight to this, I don't think it really hit me until I processed this piece of material, and she directly asked me how things were internally. I think I have been integrating slowly over the past months, but processing this one piece of my history was that last piece that "broke" the dissociation. Then down came the wall....

I don't want to imply here that I "lost" parts. I don't feel like I've lost anything, really. I feel as if I have gained. All the little parts are me. They are a part of me, but they are no longer separate. All the functional parts are the same. They are parts of me and thus not gone. Just not separate. They now make up the totality of me. I think the only parts I can say are "gone" in the sense of having "lost" parts are the introjects. The introjects are those parts that are the voices of my abusers. They are now rightly where they should be.....with my abusers. Hard to explain, but I guess I directly put their words on the people who spoke them, directly put their actions on the ones who commited those acts, and therefore they no longer live inside me. Does that make sense?

All of this is so hard to explain. I hope that I have done it justice in some way. I can tell you that it is a powerful experience!! It is sad in some ways, freeing in others, empowering in some, confusing in others, and honestly I keep finding myself crying here and there as if I have lost a loved one. Sometimes I want it back. Mostly I don't. I think I only want it back becuase I'm used to that. Living without DID is an unknown, but I keep telling myself that apparently I have been living lately in large part without the internal support of DID. I can do this.

Another hard thing.....I hate to admit it, but I have come to define myself, at least in part, as one who has DID. So there is this "in medias res" feeling of "where do I fit in now?" Also, I have technically been DID since I was 4. I am navigating totally new territory as I experience life without this. "What do I do? Where do I go? What next?" I also wonder, "Will it last? Will it come back? How do I know it is for sure and real and lasting?" "Really?? They aren't there?" I periodically search internally and yes, we are all one. Sigh.....

It feels weird.....

I never expected this when I decided that I wanted to really work on the trauma once and for all. Never! Never, never, never....

It's weird.....

There's not much more I can say right now. I will write more as it comes to mind and processes further.

Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

Powerful Thoughts

I was thinking today about something I learned a long time ago, and I thought I would come and share it. It is a Cognitive Behavior kind of thing. When I was teaching in my early 20's, working with children and adolescents who had emotional/behavioral disorders, I went to this training. During the training we learned all kinds of neat things like if you rub the roof of your mouth with your tongue, it releases endorphines in the body that have a calming effect. Now, we weren't going to be very successful convincing adolescents to do this. Can you imagine? Hey, try rubbing your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Nah, that would not go over so well. However, (so long as there are no peanut allergies), if you have a snack time and offer peanut butter crackers, you get the same effect. The guy even showed us a way to use imagery and pressure points to get rid of a headache. I use it to this day. Perhaps I'll share that at the end of my post.

The part I wanted to share was a segment he did to show us how powerful our thoughts can be. He recruited a volunteer from the group to come up and do this experiment with him. The volunteer stood to his left facing the group, and he told her to hold her right arm straight out at her side. He said he was going to try to push her arm down, and her job was to not let him do this. Now, at the same time, he also instructed her to look the other way (not at him) and think certain thoughts while he does this. It was real interesting because at first he had her think positive thoughts by making positive statements about herself in her mind. So, she did this, looking away from him, and he tried to push her arm down, but he couldn't. He commented that she was strong. Then he said, "Let's try this again." However, this time he told her to think negative thoughts by saying negative statements about herself to herself in her head. Again, she stuck her arm out, looked the other way, and commenced thinking. This time he stuck one finger up, then pointed it down to her arm, and easily pushed her arm down with the one finger. We were all amazed, especially the woman who volunteered. He again had her repeat the experiment one more time with the positive thoughts, and again, he could not push her arm down.

The point? Our thoughts are truly powerful! Strong thoughts make strong people. Weak thoughts make weak people. So many of us, as survivors of abuse, carry around the negative messages of our childhood. When they are around they spin through our thoughts.

"You're selfish"                                            "Why can't you be more like ____?"

            "It's all your fault."                                    "You're so stupid!"

                            "You are bad,"                                        "You are such a slob."

Even when the person doesn't really believe these things, thoughts like these weaken them. Many of us, on the other hand, actually believe these things about ourselves. Why? Because as children we learn about who we are through our interactions with key people in our life. We do something, it elicits a response, and that response is feedback to us about who we are, if we are accepted or rejected, likable or unlikable, etc. We, in essence, know nothing of ourselves with out the reflection back from others. So if the key people in our lives reflect back these kinds of messages, we accept them as truth. We have no other truth to compare it to. As we get older and our social network grows broader, thus the feedback we get from others is more plentiful, we may begin to see that we are more than what our primary caregivers say we are. As adolescents we may have had a clear understanding that our parents see us this way, and our friends see us that way, and our teachers see us another way. Now that we have more viewpoints of the self, we can weigh them out and see what we really think of ourselves.

So, say others give us very positive messages, and in the end, we believe our parents think we suck, but others do not, and we conclude that we do not suck. That in fact, we are pretty great. Those negative messages still come around. They still influence our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. They still influence our strength. There is a little piece of us that still gives those statements weight, and down we go. Perhaps it is because it is ingrained in us now, conditioned so-to-speak. Perhaps it is because those words came from such important figures in our lives. Whatever the reason, they are still there.

So what in the world can we do with these thoughts. We can't really control our thoughts. Not completely. Thoughts come, thoughts go. Feelings come, feelings go. They just are. What we can do is recognize them. We can be aware of them. If we are aware of them, we can exert some control on the affect they have on us. If we can recognize a negative thought, and remember how a negative thought can "weaken" us, we can change that thought and make ourselves stronger.

Not so easy......especially if we believe the negative thought to be true. Perhaps we should question the validity of the thought. For example, my mother used to tell me I was selfish. "You're so selfish!" Well, let's look at that. What is the evidence that I really am selfish? What examples from my life prove I am selfish? What behaviors have shown selfishness on my part? To be honest, I can probably name a few. Nobody is perfect afterall. Does that mean I am selfish? Well, let's see. What is the evidence that I am not selfish? What examples from my life prove that I am not selfish? What behaviors have shown me to be the opposite of selfish (kind, empathetic, caring, etc.)? Honestly, I can think of many of those. Now, when I look at both sides, clearly for me the unselfish side is larger, therefore, I am not really selfish. My mother may have thought I was selfish, or she may have just said it because she was angry, or whatever, but it is not reflective of the truth.

Sometimes I cannot put aside negative thoughts without going through this process. Other times it is easier, and I can just see it as junk thoughts. But what if, I went through that process and felt like, "Wow, I really am selfish!" This does happen. Of course there are bound to be times like this where a negative thought could be true. Again, nobody is perfect, but I wouldn't accept it as truth unless I went through that reality testing process. Then, you just have to know that people generally don't intend to be "selfish". And typically the thought of being "selfish" is displeasing to us, which means it is something that we wish to change. In this case, there is an opportunity for change. Having looked at the ways in which you have been "selfish" and ways in which you have not been "selfish", a plan for change can be made, and a commitment to the positive solidified.

But mostly I am talking about thoughts that really are not true that cloud our minds, disrupt our emotional state, and make us "weaker" as in the experiment mentioned above. These thoughts drag us down needlessly.

Another trainer I had the pleasure to hear speak on Cognitive Behavior Therapy last year used to speak of the thoughts, feelings, behaviors connection and warn us lightheartedly to "Guard your thoughts!" That phrase has stuck in my mind. Now when I notice negative thoughts running through my mind, I hear her in the back of my mind saying affectionately, "Guard your thoughts!" Then I let them go! Throw them in the proverbial trash. And I look up. (That's important because did you know you change your brain chemistry when your posture changes? Yep! It's true!) As for these negative thoughts it's like George Carlin says in his routine It's Bad for Ya, "It's all bullshit folks, and it's bad for ya!"

This takes mindfulness. This takes practice. This takes perseverance. But you can really change your life when you can manage your thoughts.

Guard your thoughts....

Copyright© 2011 by Lothlorien– All Rights Reserved

 

Fortune Cookie

*Originally posted on my former blog (2009).

Tonight my family got Chinese take out for supper. It is not something that we do very often, but something that we all love. At the end of our dinner, the kids dashed for the fortune cookies. We all cracked ours open. Cookie crumbs scatter. Our little dog scurries the ground for crumbs. We each read our fortunes. Most fortunes go by without much notice. They are read, tossed, and traded for the cookie. My husband read his, and I heard it above all else. This one had true meaning……

“Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.”

Neither of us were born with a good hand of cards. Both my husband and I were born into highly dysfunctional families. Both of us spent our lives trying to “play a poor hand well.”

All things considered I think we did an awesome job of it. My husband was the first in his family ever to graduate from college. He was the only one in his immediate family to break out of an impoverished existence. I have a good, solid, loving marriage. I have 4 beautiful kids that know without a shadow of doubt that I love them forever and always no matter what. My children have had a wonderfully, “normal”, happy childhood. They are growing up in a home where they are safe, loved, and supported. Family patterns broken… disrupted… traded for a whole new standard.

Yes, I’d say we “played a poor hand well.”

Now that I am working on my own healing more, this fortune seems to be the theme of my life at the moment. It is a time where I realize the “poor hand” I hold. It is a time where I look to see what can be done at this point to play that hand well.

Sometimes it seems no matter how long I “play the game”, the hand I’m dished just gets worse and worse. Sometimes it seems to get better for a moment. Every now and then I am dealt a really good hand. Sometimes that good hand is played well, and sometimes it is not. This is often the case when my own mixed up issues play the hand by throwing a perfectly good hand in the garbage, or passing it to another person, or not seeing it for the “good hand” it is and chastising it instead. Sometimes we find ourselves picking up the cards that were crumpled and torn by our frustration. Through tears we try to straighten them out and piece them back together. We try to salvage them, so we can try once again. We wipe our tears and play on.

“Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.”

Copyright© 2010 by Lothlorien – All Rights Reserved