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The tempest is a bit more breezy now. Thank fuck. Was able to contexualise a bit better last night and 'I want to go home' isn't distraught anymore, she's too tired. I have no idea whats its going to be like when I start actually explaining in out loud words whats going when we see therapist later this week. Hope has started shinning through again although I still feel pretty shaken up. Still don't care much about the who, what, why, when, how much. I can't find out from here anyway. There's often been a strength that I've only noticed when the system is falling apart and all the dissociated, amnesiac ANPs are weeping crumpled heaps on the floor or have jumped ship completely . I can see how I could of gotten addicted to feeling the access of something closer to the core that happens when systems that have been trundling along start collapsing. The cores will be aware of this happening long before anyone involved in day to day consciousness will though.
It was rough though. Not many of us are into suffering like that and not being able to tell anyone what is really going on. All the confusion, all that intense physical recollections that seem so disconnected from anything else I remember. That sense that massive chunks of my life and loves, of my development, things that meant everything to me at time had been lost over and over again. Knowing again, properly how much I can't do this alone and knowing how extreme the DID has been. Realising, again the actual numbers of adults the were actual abusers or complicit in someway and forgiving myself for still being 13, again. When the answers start coming its hard to forgive the ignorant thoughts and actions that went on because of stuff that I'd been involved in and then couldn't face after and in very different circumastances.
It's hard to describe how it feels when you realise that the impression of a past where no real fun has ever happened is actually quite wrong. At least I won't forget about him again. There is no way I can not be depressed all the time when such as large part of what made me is being denied and blocked out. When something so significant is shut down like that its impossible to live and enjoy the flesh you are in because its constantly bringing up confusing sensations, nostalgias, terrors and images. Nothing makes any sense.
What a twat though. Entirely avoidable.
It was rough though. Not many of us are into suffering like that and not being able to tell anyone what is really going on. All the confusion, all that intense physical recollections that seem so disconnected from anything else I remember. That sense that massive chunks of my life and loves, of my development, things that meant everything to me at time had been lost over and over again. Knowing again, properly how much I can't do this alone and knowing how extreme the DID has been. Realising, again the actual numbers of adults the were actual abusers or complicit in someway and forgiving myself for still being 13, again. When the answers start coming its hard to forgive the ignorant thoughts and actions that went on because of stuff that I'd been involved in and then couldn't face after and in very different circumastances.
It's hard to describe how it feels when you realise that the impression of a past where no real fun has ever happened is actually quite wrong. At least I won't forget about him again. There is no way I can not be depressed all the time when such as large part of what made me is being denied and blocked out. When something so significant is shut down like that its impossible to live and enjoy the flesh you are in because its constantly bringing up confusing sensations, nostalgias, terrors and images. Nothing makes any sense.
What a twat though. Entirely avoidable.
