You seem so strong...and I feel so weak

I've always said I was designed more for public than for private. And I like my life right side up and I have felt like it’s been upside down for a long time now. I know in my logical mind, when I am rational, that DT doesn't see me the way I often see myself. But she doesn't see me as others see me, either. DT sees me without my skin and that scares me. DT see’s me raw, exposed…and she sees a strength in me that I cannot see in myself.

My son was born via c-section after 12 hours of back labor and no pain relief. And I remember at one point, I looked at the unfortunate labor and delivery nurse who had been assigned to me- and I and begged her to have the baby for me. Obviously I knew she couldn't - but in that moment I felt like a cobra had wrapped itself around me and sank its fangs into my back.

That's how I now feel at night. DT seems so strong and I feel so weak and even though I know she can’t- I want to beg her to do this for me. Not because I want her to hurt- but because she seems so much stronger than me. And I think she could do this better, and faster, than I can.

I think this every night, when I’m out of control, sobbing and rocking in pain…at night, when all rationality flies out the window and I’m begging, and praying… "God, please help me. I can't do this. Make it stop. I can’t do it. Please, either help me or kill me." But it doesn't stop- it doesn't stop, it never stops. And the only way to make it stop is to go far away, where the pain can't find me. And sometimes death seems like the only place where it can't find me. The only place I can hide...the only place I can find peace and safety.

And I’m afraid. Every night, I’m afraid.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR!

For the past several years I have struggled with self-injury, in one form or another. I can go months without hurting myself physically, but then it will overcome me and I fall right back into the trap of SI. I mainly cut myself. And although it may seem impossible for someone else to understand, I need to feel the pain, see the blood ~ in order to try to make sense of the internal pain that plagues me on a daily and nightly basis.

On Saturday evening I turned on the oven to bake chicken. When I put the chicken in the oven I accidentally touched the coil with my hand. The pain made me recoil and pull my hand back immediately. The burn soon blistered and suddenly in my screwed up brain, I made the connection that I deserved the pain. That I deserved to be hurt. And so I did it again. But it wasn't me anymore - it didn't hurt anymore and I wasn't even present, in my body. And she did it again. And yet another time.

Burning my skin, branding myself because I deserve to be hurt. I accepted this as my current 'punishment' and also rationalized that the 'accidental' oven burns (hey - it happens) will be much easier to explain than deep cuts into my flesh.

The top of my hand is now filled with blisters and seared skin.
How can this seem "rational" to me?
What is happening to me?

Maybe a new therapeutic approach is needed...I feel possessed!

DT: As you know, I'm not really an expert in the field of theology; however, perhaps I'm still struggling so much because we are going down the wrong therapeutic path. I don't think DBT or drugs, or even EMDR are the answers to my overall "problems". I think the answer might be for us to work with a demonologist and/or an exorcist- to get these crazy people out of my body. I have rummaging around the internet and there are some experts in this field! I suggest we contact them and inquire about the services they offer! Because it is truly like the Amityville Horror inside my head! And I’m pretty sure the gateway to hell is running right through the center of my body! I am tormented and terrorized every single night! And I think this is something we need to investigate tout de’ suite! Before it’s too late! I say that I need the help of a demonologist ‘humorously’ because in all honesty, if I don’t interject some humor into how I truly feel possessed, then I will listen to the ‘bad voices’. And I also say it because I am truly at a loss for what else to try at night when I am possessed by him, by them…when I am no longer in control!

And if I were truly a Haunted House, what would be the logical steps to take? Call in a priest or a Demonologist, or BOTH~ to try to get rid of the ghosts and reinstate a sense of peace. If you have another suggestion, and believe an exorcism to be extreme, I am all for it! But I need something to quiet the conflict in my head, I need something to alleviate the pain inside of my body…and I need to happen soon!

I am not alright. I am certainly not *normal* and I don’t know what else to do…

In Preperation for your (well deserved) vacation...

Dear DT,

I was thinking- before your vacation- we should talk about something really painful- that way I can be completely f-d up when you’re "unavailable" for a week!!! I think that would be best, especially right now- when I want to slam my fucking head into the wall!!! And I just might! (Still trying to pull it together from Monday’s session)

Of course I could just increase the booze & the ativan…and I can certainly watch a few videos of the DBT Flying Nun…and that should “relax” me.

Yes, DT, I hear that you *recognize* my struggle and *understand* that I will have thoughts of suicide. And as long as I don’t ACT on those thoughts~ all is well. Thinking about it: okay…
Coming up with a plan: not okay!
Following through on a plan: Therapy interfering!

I recognize that you have a right to a vacation…and mountain climbing (with no cell phone coverage) sounds like a blast! And I’m sorry that I’m having such a difficult time coping right now… and am such a high maintenance inconvenient psycho these days.

But I promise on the *host body’s* life that I will not do anything permanent while you’re away…(and, as you know, she means the world to me!) so please don’t threaten to slap my ass in the psych ward to “keep me safe” while you’re away.

And for God’s sake, don’t you dare slip and fall off a cliff~ because we both know how much I “depend” on you!

“Mindfully Yours”
Gracie & the rest of us...

I NEED SLEEP!

I can't fall asleep OR stay asleep OR avoid the nightmares.... and I can't knock the angry wench from her post!

This morning I emailed a good friend of mine who works with me:

Grace: "Dear Friend, Please talk me into coming to work today."

Dear Friend: "Grace, what's wrong?"

Grace: "Tired- run down- no sleep- depressed- old...
Shall I continue? :-)"

Dear Friend: "I got the jest of it. I think you should come in because if you are depressed, home is not the place to be. "

Grace reluctantly gets dressed and heads to the office...

1 hour later:
Dear Friend emails: "Grace, are you in the office?"

Grace: "Yes, I'm here"

Feel better? No.

I don't think you're an addict, but you should be careful, because the potential is there

WHAT?
A little snapshot of my family history:
My mother is an alcoholic
My biological father (who I never met) is an alcoholic
My stepfather- you guessed it! Alcoholic until the day he died (may he burn in hell)

This part of my past is not a secret…

I am always honest with DT and PDOC about how much I drink…which tends to increase as my anxiety depression increases – and decrease when I’m in a better place, emotionally….that, apparently, like this process of ‘healing’ is cyclical.

Yesterday, ‘on the couch’ I told DT that I feel like I’ve been taking Ativan like they’re lifesavers. And that statement made me take pause. This is the second PDOC who has prescribed Ativan for me. The first Doc was a whack-job and I didn’t take it for months…however, in the last year, it occurred to me that taking it couldn’t possibly hurt worse than the pain I was already feeling, and maybe it might help. Several months ago, I mentioned to PDOC that the ativan didn’t seem to be working as well as it had in the past. So she prescribed Klonopin. At that time, she told me, that I was NOT to drink alcohol when taking the klonopin. But she knew that I was drinking with the ativan. The script on the bottle says, 1mg, Q6, as needed. I don’t take it during the day, but do take it in the evening in an effort to head of the disruptive, needy, child…and the angry, suicidal teenager.

Now, I’m neither an MD or a PhD~ head shrink…but I do know that ativan is addictive. And I also know that if taken with alcohol (which I have admitted I do to BOTH DT and PDOC) it can have adverse affects – and yet no one seems concerned. Even better than that ~ my prescription drug plan signed me up to receive a 90 day supply at one time!

In what world does that make sense?

QUESTIONS
Why would a doctor prescribe a highly addictive medication to someone with my family history?
Why would a doctor prescribe a drug that can be harmful/fatal when taken with alcohol when that patient admits she takes the meds with alcohol?
Why would a drug company send a 90 day supply to someone with my med history, and admission of suicidal thoughts nearly every day?

Do they all just want to see me live up to my "full potential"?

…And I’m the one in “therapy”

It wasn't me....it was her!

Angry bitch was around all day Thursday, Friday and Saturday. She was so evil that I don't even want to go to my therapy appointment this afternoon. AB cancelled an appointment last Thursday because she was pissed off after last Monday's session.
"DT doesn't understand"
"DT pretends to care because that's her job."

PAF is still so pissed off about the 'changes' that occurred over a year ago, in the "therapeutic relationship" - that she scrutinizes every single thing DT says, does, body language, etc - looking for a sign that DT doesn't care. And when she finds something to interpret as "lack of care" - she latches on and runs with it! And with endless energy she will projectile vomit all of her thoughts about DT and her "changes" and "care", or, as AB interprets, lack thereof.

And since AB has been in charge a lot this past week, she once again crossed a line that DT had apparently drawn in the sand, but not communicated to AB - and AB got the following message at noon on Saturday:

If you would like to talk with me for 10-15 min about your anger at my unavailability last night or whatever it is you feel that I don't care about, then I am available via phone today until about 2. If the 10-15 minutes feels insufficient for you, then I insist that we schedule a session today to address your concerns and desires toward SI with appropriate amt of time and attention. If you choose not to call or schedule another session and cancel your Monday appt for similar reasons, then I am left to interpret this behavior as therapy interfering.

Of course DT didn't question my cancelling my appointment last Thursday, even though she knew I was pissed off at her on Monday (because I TOLD her I was - which left no room for her interpretation!). Of course she didn't "analyze" that, but she spent 30 minutes 'analyzing' why I brought her some cookies at Christmas last year. UM, IT WAS A HOLIDAY!

Whine: I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THERAPY TODAY!

I just can't give up now....

I admit, and have admitted before, that I struggle with God, and faith and all that goes along with it...at the present time I woud not consider myself a spiritual person, but this song has brought me some peace today.... I've come to far from where I've started from. I just can't give up now.

Erase Me

i've decided that i'm no longer worthy of capitalization of the letter "I", when referencing myself. Why? Who knows, but that's what i decided. Save the importance of the punctuation and correct grammar for one who deserves such recognition. There's something physically tangible to the depression i'm feeling. It's stopping me from doing things i used to do.

i still can't sleep! There's really no point, because even if i lay down, i end up getting out of bed again. Then i watch pointless late-night infomercials selling everything from jewelry to face cream that will miraculously make all blemishes disappear. The infomercials on weight loss fascinate me, though. i study the "before" and "after" pictures, trying to determine if the two pictures are really the same person. i look at hair color, smile, eyes. i wonder how many other people are up late, watching TV, trying to picture themselves 50 pounds lighter—even though the fine print at the bottom of the screen says, "results not typical". i wonder how many people ignore that, thinking that they, too, can be a success story. Maybe this process of “healing” is the same way. Maybe it won’t work

There really are no "good" days, just different levels of "bad". i am so frustrated with things changing every single day! Monday – let's do it this way, Tues – let's try this. "Think outside the box" , "embrace change", "Gotta go with it, the train has already left the station." i feel like i'm on the edge.

There's this gradual darkening, like something is closing around me. i can feel the tears choking me, threatening to fall should i let them. It's overwhelming! i want to bang my head in to the wall, cut, punch something. Physical pain is much easier to handle.i don't know – just an overwhelming feeling of "aloneness" – nowhere to go, nowhere to turn, it's like I'm trapped somewhere between reality and my own mind.

DH and i had another 'discussion' this morning. i don't even remember how it first started, and i know he thinks i'm crazy~ i can't handle my own problems? (He did not say those words) Then he made a comment that i'm "vanishing" right in front of him. Asked me what's left if i let every part of me disappear? i told him, "me", and left it at that (but i don’t know who ‘me’ is ~ who is the real “grace”?). He doesn't get it though. Doesn't get that part. Use it all up. Strip it all away. Whatever is real is what remains in the end. What if that's nothing?

Fear. It keeps me locked inside my own little world, destroying the courage, the strength it takes to escape. It feels like i've been fighting back tears nearly every day for the last several weeks. Everything seems to get to me. Every song i hear every thought in my head. I can’t tame the girls inside me. And i try harder and harder to keep the tears from falling. To stop the thoughts, the unidentifiable feelings inside that bring me to this point. Even as i sit here writing, the screen in front of me is blurry. Out of focus from the tears threatening to fall. Where the hell is the exit? It's getting harder and harder to find, harder and harder to believe an exit exists in the first place.

And i'm dying a little more each day. i am disappearing.

"Life Worth Living"

Really, DT ~ Enlighten me.... You will help me find a life with living?
Well, I don't thnk that exists... in fact, I question whether I'm alive at all.

I'd tell you to go to hell, but I am already in hell, and right now I HATE you, and I don't want to see you everyday!

And as I have spent the past 2 hours begging God to help me, crying, on my knees!!!!! Guess what? No anwer. He didn't answer me, you never answer me! It's all a big sham!

There's no life worth living. You are a liar!

And I will reiterate that I prefer death to this! At least there's no pain after death!

I can only take so much~ I have no more strength...eventually won't I just die from lack of strength?
I give up.... now...

PUT A FORK IN ME!!!!!

I'm done! Overdone! BURNT TO A CRISP!

I am so sick of people looking THROUGH ME!
I spend all day ~ every single day~ attending to the needs of others! Work demands...there's always a fire to put out, 250 people to deal with, each having his/her own special 'need' or demand that must be met, no matter what.

"Grace, I need this information now!"
"Grace, they don't understand, they take advantage of me, I need your support."
"Grace, I realize this isn't much time, but can you pull this together by Friday?"
"Grace, I understand they made a mistake, but can you just correct it?"
"Grace, I know I've been here a year and still have NO idea what I'm doing...but can you have someone provide training ~ I need your help!"
"Grace, can you please do *this* for me, my child is sick, I received some bad news, I just need a favor, you're the 'favorite' - he listens to you....." and on and on and on...

Then home demands...get the kids up, get them dressed, fed, out the door by 7am. Deliver to camp no later than 7:30, to make it to work in time for an 8am conference call. Ensure they have sunscreen, swimsuits, towels, lunches, water, money for the pool, snacks....

After work: dinner, walk and feed the dog, do the dishes, find dear daughter's lost DS, intervene in dear son and dear daughter argument about who won the card game.

"Mommy, can you cut up my chicken."

"Mommy, can I have some ketchup."
"Mommy, can I have some more milk."
"Mommy, can you help me find my toothbrush"

"Mommy, can you please just play one more game of speed"

"Mommy, can you please help me with my cheerleading routine."
"mommy, can you...mommy, can you...mommy, can you..."

Friends need consoling, flowers need watering, dog needs petting, kids need tucked in, husband needs attention...I need a DRINK!

No one ever asks how "Grace" is doing.

No one says, "How was your day, Grace?"
No one says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Just ignore me, as though I'm no longer here.
Dear husband goes to bed, falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, while I stay up, take ativan after ativan...wash down a couple of seroquel with a glass or two of wine...just pray for it to END! All of it!

My chest is constricted, my breathing is shallow - I HURT ALL OVER! I'm exhausted but cannot sleep. Does anyone even notice? No...

Last night, took pills, tried to kill the pain, the voices, the hopelessness...I picked up yet another glass of wine, looked at it and a fleeting thought told me that I probably shouldn't drink it - that I had taken too many ativan, enough seroquel, that it probably wouldn't be good...but I didn't even care. I just needed PEACE & QUIET! From the outside world, and the inside turmoil. I woke up at 3am, outside on the swing...did anyone come to check on Grace? No - because no one cares, that's why.

I've known since I was 5 years old that I was born to serve others. My needs don't matter ~ most days I try to forget that I even have needs. Of course, thank you DT for reminding me that it's "okay" to feel, and to have needs ~ because that actually hurts even worse! Actually feeling "needy" for a minute but no one gives a shit!

I want to disappear. I want to cease to exist. I want OUT of this "Contract"...I need to know what the rights of termination are!

Because I'm DONE!
FINISHED!
Je suis fait!

Sono Fatto!

Estoy hecho!

Ich bin fertig!
and...in the white trash language I grew up with:
FUCK IT! I'm finished!

It doesn't even matter anymore ~ In fact, it never did!
I never mattered, I am worth nothing....that's the way it's always been, that's the way it is now, and how it will always be...if there's nothing to look forward to in the future, but more of the same, I say, why bother?
No one would notice my absence....well, until they needed something.

There's no "life worth living"! It doesn't exist! That's just what the MHPs tell us so we keep paying them, stay alive to live more and more pain. Face it, Gracie, your parents fucked you up beyond repair! Throw me out with last week's leftovers! I can't do it anymore!

You set the boundaries and limits – and based upon the limits you set, I decide my level of safety and trust...in the TR

Session today didn't go well...so I find myself struggling tonight...

Tired, hurting, wanting to SI... just trying to get through the 'moment' and then the next one, and the next one....and on and on and on...and I find myself flat on my stomach, lying on the bathroom floor, lost and alone...
DT: There continues to be a big part of you that is convinced that I could not possibly care about you beyond what things I say because "that is what I am supposed to say" per your perceptions of the tx process.


Grace: Incorrect! It actually has much more to do with the way you USED to “respond” vs how you now respond. Both IN and OUT of session. If you would like me to provide examples, let me know.



DT: I can imagine that it is very scary to think that I could possibly want to know what you are feeling or thinking, etc...as it is scary and shameful for you to be in these feelings/thoughts.

Grace: No , it’s not *scary* at all! Nights – that’s what’s scary – why would I be “scared” of what you want to know about what I’m thinking and/or feeling? That doesn’t make sense to me.

DT: It must also be difficult to put together the idea that I care, but yet not be willing to stretch my limits after 10, let alone be unable to keep you safe when you are grappling with the thoughts of ending your life.

Grace: Again, the “limits” have nothing to do with my thoughts of your “caring” – again, it has more to do with the way it WAS then vs. NOW . And I don’t really expect you to keep me safe – in fact, I don’t really give a fuck about that. If I want to kill myself I WILL DO IT, and there’s nothing you, or anyone else could do to stop it – that’s just reality. And I will NOT be *begging* for your help. It’s your JOB to act like you care. That’s not REAL. It’s your J-O-B! I’m not stupid! Nor do I ASK you to “Keep me safe”…in fact, I think my “expectations” of you as well as my “dependency” upon you, and the TR, have changed dramatically recently. Again…I’m sure it’s all “part of the process”.


DT: As much as you may not see this, I don't have rose-colored glasses on. However..to whatever extent they may be "pink tinged", will be partly due to the fact that I am not you and have not gone through what you have and still go through (harkening back to part of the conversation in last week's session). This is a fact that can not be changed and so what you choose to bring to session will best allow me to better understanding you...as this affords 2 way real time communication and clarification, etc. As I know I have said many times, it is my clinical judgment that safety, containment and titration of emotions/physical sensations is of utmost importance and I have to continue to strive toward creating this during our "real time" interactions and conversations. I will continue to read your emails while I need you to recognize that the content that you write about here is also good material for session...



Grace: When did I ever say you had rose-colored glasses on? If it’s 2 way communication – you knew I was pissed off today–but you don’t ask why? Seems kind of like “one-sided” communication to me. And whatever on the “clinical judgment that safety, containment and titration of emotions/physical sensations is of utmost importance” – I must be a bit confused – since it doesn’t seem important to you any other time. This is good communication for session? I thought you said I could email whatever I want too as long as I don’t “attack” your personal life, which we’ve both established…I know nothing about.



DT: Let me also remind you that the pain and fear that you experience is "real" and I have never suggested otherwise.



Grace: I never said you “suggested otherwise.” I was simply stating that when you say “it *seems* real to “YOU”, Grace” that’s pretty much implying that I’m on some sort of LSD flashback – and it is NOT real- nor do you think it’s real at all to me.



DT: I have however reinforced that there are often situations that occur where there is actually no "real time" danger or threat and that these perceptions need to be gently challenged and reminded that they are old programmed trauma responses that need reframing or proactive management. Much of this is through continuing to work with your stream of thought processes and compulsion to prove your "belief" or "perception"....when sometimes this doesn't serve you best.



Grace: Yes, DT, would you have said that same thing to Laura Black right before her co-worker shot her and killed 7 of her co-workers?


DT: Your email is a small example of this. My words "when and if" were heard and processed in such a manner as to feel rejection/abandonment and because this is your expectation, you will go to great lengths to prove this... at least to whatever extent you can with words/thoughts....which ultimately seem to make you feel worse...which I know you don't want.

Grace: It doesn’t make me “feel worse” – really. “Initially” your “changes” made me feel worse, that I will admit…but I’m not going to great “lengths” to “prove” anything. Your changes and communication style with me are what they are – don’t need to be “proven”. I will state that you’re right about my “expectations” of not “depending” or “trusting” anyone have been “reinforced” by the change in the way YOU communicate with me – both in session and out. But, DT, those FACTS are based in REALITY – not “my crazy maladaptive thoughts” and you did say “IF”. Hello! That’s not a “fantasy” – that’s what you said! Just because I REMEMBER what you SAY – and you apparently DON’T – does not mean I’m trying to “prove” anything. Words are words. You say something with a look of disgust on your face (no judgment – you’re “human”) – that doesn’t leave much to “interpretation” does it?



DT: you will go to great lengths to prove this... at least to whatever extent you can with words/thoughts.... which ultimately seem to make you feel worse...which I know you don't want.



Grace: No pain, no gain – isn’t that right? It may get worse before it gets better, right? I told you – I respect your “changes”, I DO NOT expect you to “be there” for me at night, or “keep me safe” – even though you WERE before...back before your life changed (Grace struggling not to mention something specific she DOES know about DTs life - and her newly established relationship which happened to coincide with the new "limitations")! So, really, you can say what you want to say about “care” and “non-judgment” – and I will again say – that I don’t trust you like I did – and I have good reasons for that (whether you think that’s “maladaptive” in your “clinical opinion”, or not). You changed when I needed you! You didn’t give me an explanation, you just did it. How am I supposed to “trust” your “care” after that?

No worries – I get it – it’s your “job” ~ I’m the patient – you’re the expert. It’s cool. Your life changed when the border wanted to kill herself – so you decided I didn’t need your help, which lead me to believe you didn’t care. I didn’t *prove* it – you did it. You were “Professor Plum”, in the “study” with the “poison”. I think it sucks, the way you *killed my trust* - but can’t change it – so learn to “work” with it. And I think that’s what I’m doing. For the most part, I have “abided” by the “rules and regulations” you have established, I have stopped “acting out” my anger by calling you every night at 9:55, I have stopped *attacking your personal life*, again, as we’ve acknowledged, I know nothing about. I have stopped emailing your photos of bloody limbs and a multitude of pills. I don’t ASK you to *save* me anymore, do I? I don’t *fantasize* that you’ll *rescue* me, and I’m clear that you will not respond to any emails other than on Mon, Wed and Fri – right?



I’m not saying I don’t *trust* you at all – for the most part, you do what you’ve said you would do, are dependent…blah, blah, blah – I’m just saying there is no way in hell I will ever be *dependent* on you (or anyone else) to help me, beyond what you’ve established, or rescue me, or save me as though I am a child. I sincerely regret that I ever did trust ANYONE to that level. A learning process…I know now – maybe that was your intention in doing that. I’ve been pretty damn independent since I was about 3 years old…so I’m good with that. You are not my “mother” or my “caretaker” – you are a “mental health professional”, trying to do your job. I will freely admit I don’t make that easy for you. And like I said, I appreciate what you do for me, but if you did not want me to think you weren’t reading my emails, then you shouldn’t have said “IF” you read them.


But it didn’t make me feel worse - you just reinforced what I already knew. No judgment and no offence…but you’re no longer “with me in spirit” and I don’t “carry you in my heart” – not now – not anymore. You are DT ~ I am “client” that’s all – just like any other client – not your job to “be here with me in spirit”. So, I appreciate your agreement to the 3 emails per week, and the “sessions” in your “office” – but I’m clear on the relationship – that’s all I’m saying – you sit in the leather chair, I sit on the couch. You are the clinician, I am the crazy client. You set the boundaries and limits – and based upon the limits you set, I decide how much I can trust you, how safe I feel with you, and what I am comfortable disclosing to you. As you've said, the process is "cyclical" - and right now I'm back to early 2007. But "It's not you, it’s me".


DT: Hope these thoughts can help -


Grace: no, not really – but I appreciate you trying to help, “to the best of your ability” and “in the limited ways that you can.”

Unconditional Positive Regard

I’ve read enough to know the ‘keys’ to the ‘successful therapeutic relationship’…the ‘unconditional positive regard’, ‘make the client feel *accepted* where they ARE’…obviously I don’t need to list them – since it’s really a code you ‘live’ by. But I really wanted to talk about the 2 above. I realize you have them down pat – an expert in the field, I imagine – because it certainly worked on me – and I’m sort of a skeptic, when it comes to thought processes that are not logical – really – philosophical jargon just makes my brain hurt. I’m not wired to think that way – but that’s what makes the world go ‘round, isn’t DT – we all have our strengths and weaknesses ~ we all have are passions as well as things we like to avoid.

But suddenly, the thought of “unconditional positive regard” feels phony to me. You have spent so much time ingraining into my brain, “DT is human, humans make mistakes, humans have limitations.” Well…humans are not capable of “unconditional positive regard”, either. “Blanket acceptance and support of a person regardless of what the person says or does.”….And you called me “fake”?

Come on, DT! That doesn’t make sense!I disclose something painful for me, and you reply, “Well, there must have been a reason you did what you did.”
I respond, “Yes, I’m a spiteful bitch – and I did it because I could.”DT uses the “upr response”, “Well, that’s a reason, don’t be so hard on yourself.”WHAT? I’m guessing had YOU been on the receiving end of my spite that evening – you certainly wouldn’t “accept” it! (Again, just guessing –don’t really “know” you maybe you would.)

UPR – that’s not “real” – and now I just feel like nothing you say is “real”. (God damn border and her black/white thinking – but 2+2 is 4 …no matter how you do the calculation). So I’ve spent time thinking that through, as you know, my brain tends to do that…and I wonder how in the world it’s supposed to be ‘effective’ for you to tell me that – what I did that night is ‘understandable’. It wasn’t acceptable – sure – we all do things we shouldn’t – but they’re still wrong! Sure – move on – try to understand why you did it –so you can prevent it from happening in the future – but “accepted” – um, I don’t think so.

And then I do a quick panorama of my behavior last year, you know, before you changed, and it was NOT accepted by you. Um…I’m not sure I can understand that – of course I’m not a clinician ~ so I’m certain there are several pieces to this puzzle that I’m missing and therefore not understanding how this should all work.

So, what I’m going to say next is probably not *fair*, but “it is what it is”. You “accept” what I tell you about myself, and support me, no matter what I say or do (assuming the activities are “legal”) – and I guess I should also make the assumption that this is for “past” behaviors – because my recollection of the recent past ~ is that when I am honest with you – you “change” the rules and send me to a worthless class that wastes $1500.00 of my hard earned money. And frankly, I find that completely asinine (no offense).

But really, how the hell am I supposed to think you really ‘care’ when you accept something that’s completely unacceptable and deplorable! Why talk now – I can just have a DT/Grace conversation in my head – spill out the situation and then be DT and say, “It’s okay – you’re not bad, you had a reason. I ‘accept’ you. I (enter care/understand/realize how difficult) it was.) WTH? I pay you to “accept” me? (well, to tell me you accept me – who knows what you really think) That’s pretty stupid on my part, isn’t it?

That’s really how this works? Because my thought process was in a way different place! Now I think it’s all just all just sugar coated lies. Really. I actually did believe you ‘cared’ for a long time – but now I think it’s all fake.
Like the bullshit you used to tell me:
“And for now, I will care about you when you can't or won’t. Little Angry Gracie, I hear you and I do care.”
“I will reiterate that I do care about you very much”
“I stand firm in my ever constant attempt to be present and available to you to the best of my ability.”
I’m sorry that I ever believed you did care! And that I begged you for help – and you slammed the door in my face because it was after “10”. I’m sorry that I told you anything at all! Because obviously, your “answer” is the same no matter what the question! I’m sorry for all of it! Because it was obviously just a ‘job’ to you – reading from a book – saying what you were taught – I don’t hold you responsible…you were doing your job – I hold myself accountable for buying into the theoretical bullshit! That’s not “honesty”….

And it all makes so much sense now! The whole *puzzle*! You were “there” to get me to trust you – I tell you some things, you don’t judge me, so I trust you more. I reach out to you…you’re there…I trust you more and feel accepted and cared for. And I bought into it all – hook – line –sinker! You got the untrustable to trust! Wow! Amazing – AND even when you changed the “rules” I still stuck around – because I still thought you cared! But it was all fake – just your job – “show the client that you accept her no matter what and she’ll keep coming back because she’ll think you care.”Nice! See, here’s the thing…I realize I’m fucked up/mentally ill, basically a trailor trash whore who was fucked by her father – unloved by her mother – which really didn’t do much to provide a sense of safety or develop the ability to trust.

But here’s the thing – despite all that – I know right from wrong! I know my father was WRONG for doing what he did – it still fucks me up every god damn night! But he was wrong for doing it. But the rest of the shit I said Monday – I was wrong for doing it! ME! I “accept” the responsibility for what I did and I don’t need your bullshit answer of “unconditional positive regard” – because I don’t “accept” that! That’s not “real” – that’s fake and dishonest!

And the funniest part is if I were honest about the other shit, the PRESENT day SHIT! The shit we do to cope at night - You wouldn't accept that! WTF? I'm not stupid but it sure doesn't make sense to ME! If I screw up! If I'm wrong! Tell me that!!!! Just like you did about the "Email" and your "availability" and my "maladaptive behavior"! Just tell me the! You had no problem telling me then - did you? Since I realize this isn’t a “scheduled DT communicates with Grace” day - ou have your 'limits' and shit in place, I'll take the liberty of speaking for you..."No - I didn't - because I didn't have time to deal with your bullshit! And I don't really give a fuck - other than when you're in my office and that's "your" time - so I "accept" the unacceptable...no matter what."ME: Yeah - well THAT'S FUCKED UP! And I don't *accept* that!
DT – Would you like a change to retort? Take as much time as you need…I’m sure you have to “consult” with your peer group, and probably your boyfriend, on what would be the appropriate response. Only took 4 days, huh? And THIS is what you came up with????

DT RESPONSE: “unconditional positive regard... some thoughts....Let me remind you that there are indeed things that in the context of our tx relationship are conditional and not acceptable (ie. and have consequences...). What emotions and thoughts you experiences are not places where human judgment belongs. Feelings of shame, guilt, self reproach, etc. carry enough burdens on the psyche. However actions and perhaps the intentions underlying them render a different understanding because ultimately they impact others... Also, UPR is there because, ultimately, it is up to you to discern what and who you want to become...not based on what I think is "right or wrong". If I were to directly impart my values, likes, dislikes, opinions of who I think you should be or become, then it is not your process of discovery. Having said that, I also recognize that this is not a perfect world (or perfect " therapeutic process") and there will be times when my body language, timing of responses, own human reactions, etc. will color our interactions such that you will inevitably internalize something about "me"....as you have already discovered....for better or worse...”

So, basically, what you’re saying (in a circular, not really saying anything, kind of way) is you pretend to not judge me for what I “disclose” to you. But the “consequences come into play when Grace can’t keep her behavior in check at night – and utilizes self destructive behavior in an effort to “get through” now that you’ve decided you won’t be available.

I think I get it now! And I hope you “get” why I am no longer willing to disclose what that “get through the night” behavior is – because THAT is the behavior that draws the consequences. And you “reacting” and “acting” on that behavior really just puts me in the same position I was in many years ago. The position of being FUCKED by someone I should be able to TRUST!

Embrace your "inner child"

How?

I commented on a post about comforting the "inner child" ~ on Marj's blog..."Helping your inner child help you." It was such an insightful posting, educational but also personal. And touching on a topic I am not yet able to "deal" with. I admire those like Marj, who seem so much further along on this "journey" than I.
In fact, the 5 year old inside of me, the little girl who whines and cries and begs someone to help her...well, I hate her. I hate everything about her! I hate that she exists, I hate that she is weak, I hate her! In fact, the angry, fighting teenager inside of me "deals" with her every night. And "dealing" with her involves no "comfort", I can assure you.

How do I "accept" someone who is unlovable?

How do I "accept" someone who now causes me nothing but pain?

I can't ~ because I feel like its her fault the rest of us are struggling so much right now!


"Embrace her"? How? I hate her! I'd rather kill her!

You don't "understand" or "realize" how "difficult" it is...You have no idea!

DT tells me: Yes, I know that you are still in a he** of alot of pain. I realize that just because you are limiting and censoring the nature of your emails, does not mean that you are feeling or doing any better
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
DT said: I wanted to acknowledge your email…I hear how you are working at soothing yourself and "riding the waves" as I say. I know that when you don't email or call is not always an indication that you are "doing ok". If fact, I realize that you are working hard at learning how to live with the big ups and downs of trauma memories/belies and strong emotions
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
DT "recognizes: While I realize that in your emails you have often asked me to not state that I recognize how hard some nights can be, like last night, I am going to at least acknowledge it. I know that there are many, many nights in which you see yourself with very few options to "get through the nights", so I simply want you to remember that I have not forgotten this.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
DT validates my *reality* I recognize you had a VERY difficult night last night. I realize that you still weigh the options of living vs dying and that this continues to plague you on a daily basis.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

DT, I really do appreciate your ‘support’, ‘in the limited ways that you can’ – but really, as far as the nightly ritual that goes on for me…you don’t “realize” anything, so, please do not say any of the following when speaking to me about my nights in hell, of which you truly no nothing about: Understand, Recognize, Know….because I find it mocking, in a “yeah, yeah, I get it – you’re in *pain* thinking about killing yourself…I get it – now STFU about it!” *DT eye roll*

You don't "realize" or "understand" it at all, DT. You used to be there when the 5 year old baby would reach for you, but then you decided that you shouldn’t be – so you are no longer there when she reaches for you. Like, we’ve been there, DT….So, since you are NOT there, with me, in hell – nightly – and I don’t really email you or speak of it right now - I’d like it if you didn’t say that you “understand my nightly pain” – if you wouldn’t mind. Because you’re “pretending to understand” or trying to “validate” what I go through at night – probably has the opposite effect on me than the message you intend. I think it's best if I just continue to do what I do what I have to do to "get through" the night - until I make the decision that I can't anymore - and not provide detail of what that is - or if it's "better" or "worse" than before (out of fear of your “changes”) and you just let it be - because to say you realize it? Well, that really isn't true...at least from my perspective.

And for the record, when you say, "You don't have to hurt yourself before you go to bed." It just pisses me off – because really – you’re not *here* with us, so how would you know what we “have” to do? I get that you just try to give me "hope" by saying that - but it doesn't work - there's no hope at night - I just roll the dice and whatever happens/happens. When the tornados are swirling all around me, and the winds are blowing 80MPH, and I'm being hit with sharp objects - I don't care how many times you try to give me "hope" - in those moments, hope doesn't come into play.

So as I have explained to you, I will respect your new boundaries and 'limitations' – of not being there for me at night…you know, because now you have a boyfriend who needs your attention... Just as you "pretend" to accept me. I get it!
You need your "DF-Free space” and I don't need to hear the bullshit of "if you can't keep yourself safe, I will have to take measures"
"you must go to DBT"
"I won't email""go have some tea"
"shut up or drug up"
blah blah blah
yada yada yada

For the record, I will tell you that I did try the "ice cube" thing last night - and um, sorry to report that it doesn't work the way Marsha said it would. - so I can't endorse it.

I do appreciate what you do to try to help me, but I also recognize that you may change or be gone tomorrow - so I "trust" you in the "limited ways that I can" - not like before - nor will I ever trust you like I did before you changed, never again! It's your "job" to listen and pretend not to judge and act like you "care", nod empathetically, and tell me I'm not a "bad" person...and I, "the client" am supposed to somehow incorporate into my brain that because you "pretend" to care and accept me, that I should "accept" myself too - and allow others "in" because somehow the fact that I pay you to listen and validate and care about the 'uncarable' - is supposed to help me 'accept' myself. Thank you for helping me understand all that. It's better that way. The stupid little 5 year old whore is kind of getting it that she can't depend on you to 'help' her anymore at night - and soon she'll shut the hell up - and understand that she can't depend on anyone, ever, ever, ever! And anyone who actually tries to get her to depend upon them is a fucking liar!

So i think we're good now…DT…

But, please, no more that you "understand" or "realize" what I "feel" at night - that would be like me telling a Holocaust survivor that I "understand" and "realize" how painful it was to live in a concentration camp. You know NOTHING of the horror that goes on for me in the dark – so don’t say you do!

Kewl?

Thanks for *hearing* me, ~ Grace

Words Grace typed to DT, but erased and did not say:
Its no different now then it was then. Not really. Just try to breathe- sometimes pretend you're somewhere else- pray for a moment of peace- and start all over again. Wish there was someone to help- all the while realizing that there isn't. Its no different now. Sometimes I forget how much it sucked- how much it hurt. But I get to be reminded every night.

What will you be having tonight, Grace?

“I’ll have a venti triple valium, half-seroquel, non-fat, cranberry vodka, latte…with a twist of lemon… oh, and a side order of boundary breaking fuck-heads, and I’d like the anxiety and fear on the side please.” Grace replies.

“Very good,” night demon nods his approval, “And for desert, will you be having the “Everyone couldn’t Care Less Cake” with the double ativan decaf expresso?”

*Sigh* I’ve become so predictable....

Why do you not see that the pain, the fear, the hopelessness that happens every single night is real! It is smothering and debilitating and there is NO escape. There is no ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ ~ there is simply “FREEZE”! And I don’t know how to make you understand that. You DON’T understand! Do you think I “choose” to be in this pain? Do you think I really want to be in my office, fumbling through a pill box and my address book at the same time, trying to not give into the panicked voice speaking to me in a booming tone? Do you think I want to call and leave a voicemail for you, letting you know that I feel trapped, that I can’t handle the ‘present’? Do you think I want to run down the hall to the bathroom and turn the water on full blast so no one hears me vomiting? I don’t “select” this – I didn’t study a menu and say, “I’ll start with the triggering memories and unrelenting pain in my body, followed by the constant arguing in my brain from the voices that have been stirred. For my entrée I’ll try the endless crying ~ can I get that half past/half present? And I’ll finish with the dissociation fortune cookie. I think that’s good.” And, prey tell, DT, what will the fortune cookie hold? Will it be booze? Or a few extra ativan? Perhaps self inflicted vomiting followed by lacerated flesh…Yes, I wonder what the future will hold.

You don’t get that, do you? I wish more than anything that I could be free of this. Don’t you realize that? Is this all there is…well, Grace, figure it out… I have no clue what to do. I have felt anxious and scared all day. I have had physical responses to non-existent fear that I cannot convince ‘those that dwell within’ is nonexistent. But I feel it, the pain, the fear…and maybe the fear and anxiety is an old trauma response, and maybe you’re right, there’s no basis that I’m in danger right now. But, guess what, DT? It feels real! It sure feels real!
Your explanation sounds so simple when you say it, “Grace, these reactions are deeply embedded in the midbrain and they can elicit sensations and CNS symptoms that feel so *real-time* based.”
Yes, DT – that’s true. And although that sounds like such a simplistic explanation…it does little to calm the girls within who really BELIEVE it IS happening now!!!! How do you explain that? How do you explain it to a 5 year old who *feels* the pain in her body, and to her it IS happening NOW! Just like that? What you said to me? Guess what? SHE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THAT!!!!

So then what? “You just deal with it.” “Get through the moment” …You want to hear the screaming in my head? The “solution” to *get through the moment*? I’m too tired to fight – I don’t believe I’m worth fighting for anyway. What’s the point? Can’t win…there’s no escape! I’m no longer present at night to fight it anymore. Each morning I wake up is a surprise that I’m still alive. And as I get out of bed a scavenger hunt ensues…a search for what happened the night before. I never know what I will find – and it’s chilling! And it doesn’t happen “every once in a while” – it happens every single night! Blood? Empty vodka bottle? Excessive amounts of anti-anxiety meds? Or worse! And I’m just saying, if the wench stains another one of my VS “Pink” tank tops with her blood – I’ll kill her myself!

It doesn’t stop! Over and over again, you tell me, “Grace, be patient. You will get there slowly but surely. Keep trying.” Clearly, by your use of these phrases, you don’t understand! I need the accelerated class! There’s no time for another 5 years of psychoanalysis…no time for more “observations” and “introspection” – do you not realize yet that if it doesn’t stop I won’t be alive in 5 years? There will be nothing left to “observe” – no need for examination. I will no longer be here! No one seems to understand that! No one believes how real it is – no one…but they will. And there’s no way in hell they could possibly be shocked when I’m no longer here. If they are – it’s because they “choose” not to see. But no one sees the urgency – no one understands there is a detonator that has been set…time is limited. No one believes me…each minute that passes, the fuse is shorter, the hourglass grows heavier on the bottom…but no one sees. Instead, you all just look through me as though I am translucent.I have no more energy to try to explain it to you. But I can tell you this:
Even though you speak the words, “I realize how hard it is for you.” Clearly you do not.
You understand nothing.

Tick-Tock ~ DT ~ my time is “limited” too ~ Just like your “availability”.

Can you hear me NOW?

The dissociation during therapy is getting worse. If DT says one thing about something that brings upon a moment of shame I completely go away. I no longer feel safe so I can't remain present. It has happened several times over the past few weeks. And I am unable to stop it.

Two weeks ago, I started to have a panic attack and DT was able to talk me through it. I couldn't believe it. I could hear her, I listened to her and I got through it without cutting, puking, taking ativan or drinking! But then 10 minutes later she asked me a question that brought up so much shit that I couldn't stay present. I was staring at the wall, where the ceiling connects with two different walls.

At first, I heard her say, "Grace, what are you looking at? Are you looking at the lamp?"

I heard her, but I could not respond, I was not able to speak, so I thought I would point at what I was looking at...after all, it would be rude not to answer her question. But I couldn't point because I couldn't move. And then DTs voice became more and more distant, until I could no longer hear her. At first, it was like she was at the other end of a football field, I could hear her, but she sounded 100 yards away from me...but then her voice completely disappeared. Suddenly I'm no longer in her office, I'm not anywhere...

Then once again, I could hear DT's voice, "Grace, can you look at me?"

I could hear her voice, but I wasn't able to respond, no, DT, I can't look at you.

"Grace, can we connect?"

No, DT, I cannot move my body, I'm unable to move my head, so I cannot look at you.

"Grace?" DT's voice again. Be quiet DT - I can't move, how can I talk to you, how can I look at you when I can't move!

Finally, I was able to move my head. I looked at the bookshelf on the wall. A few minutes later I looked completely past her, to another wall, studying her diplomas. I don't want to look at you DT. I am ashamed and I cannot look at you.

"Grace?" DT asks again, "Can you look at me? Can we reconnect?"

I slowly moved my head to look at DT- and then realized the hour was up.
Where did the time go? We didn't even talk about anything and now it was time to go!

After leaving DTs office, I sat in my car, tired and weepy. I was trying to stay present, in my body, but I couldn't. I used all the tricks on my list, but I couldn't do it. 30 minutes later, I was able to leave the parking lot.

I don't know what we were talking about when I disappeared. During our next appointment, she asked me if I wanted to know, and I told her now. Because chances are it wasn't something I was prepared to talk about and if she would have told me it would have happened again.

So I couldn't let myself go there again...I just couldn't.

What not to wear! 'NUF SAID

Some people have no respect for "BOUNDARIES"!!!

DT and I have been working on the 'boundary' skills for a couple of years now. And I think I've dramatically improved in this area. But I've come to realize that I can "set" the boundaries, be consistent when enforcing them...but I cannot make someone else abide by MY boundaries. It's extremely frustrating that I can draw the line in the sand, and someone can just cross that line like it doesn't exist. I wish there was an electrical current that shocked the hell out of anyone who dared to cross. Psycho co-worker is at it again. Last night there was a 'mandatory' managment dinner. I sat as far away from him as I could...I even sat with my back to the door (which is an insecurity of mine) - but just sitting near him heavily outweighed my back against the door! He makes my skin crawl!!!

After dinner, on my way home, I had a text message from him on my work phone, asking me if I was interested in going out for a drink. WHAT?? What part of FUCK OFF I HATE YOU - do you not understand???? I did not respond.

This morning I awaken to a lovely text message from him, stating he had to take his suicidal wife to the ER and can I "please think about him...during this terrible time." WHAT? I'm sorry, but again, what part of FUCK OFF I HATE YOU - are you still having problems with????

I arrived at work, he sent me an email telling me he would not be in the office today, and to "please respond" letting him know I received his email and his text message. WHAT? Let me reiterate again, perhaps a bit louder this time: WHAT PART OF FUCK OFF, STALKER, I HATE YOU!!!! - do you still not get???? Should I write it on your office door in RED crayon!?!? Then I proceeded to have an anxiety attack, triggered by his GD overwhelming stalker behavior! I had to call DT, crying, "he won't leave me alone! I've tried everything, he won't leave me alone...and I can't do it anymore." - Thankfully DT was available to talk me in from the ledge. She calmed me down, telling me that I was having a fear response and she knows I have put boundaries in place with him - and it's obvious that he isn't going to adhere to those boundaries. But there's nothing for me to be afraid of ~ and I'm not responsible for his behavior, and it isn't my problem that his wife is in such terrible shape. I know, but it still freaks the hell out of me - I feel smothered and overwhelmed and afraid and unheard. Why the hell can't he hear me? Respect me? He is just like all the others! LEAVE ME ALONE! I SAID DON'T BOTHER ME! I SAID NO! I SAID NO! I SAID NO! I SAID NO!

Someday...I WILL Heal!

I will heal...I will hold my head high. I will walk with confidence and grace and spread my love and joy to all people, each person that I come in contact with.

I will heal…I will give my opinion to others because my opinion is worthy of being given.

I will heal... I will continue my journey because I can and because I want too, not because anyone else wants it for me. But because and I am intelligent and wise and I am strong ~ and I want to heal and feel whole.

I will heal… I want to share my experiences and what I have learned with others, hoping it will give them a sense of hope.I will heal…I will walk this walk with confidence and grace and leave behind the shame and hate.I will heal…I will be beautiful on the outside and the inside. I will let the beauty within me radiate around me and I will embrace that beauty.

I will heal…I will accept my past, and all that has happened to me and I will not be ashamed but instead realize that it has made me into the woman I am today.

I will heal…I will take the circumstances that I have faced and acknowledge them and learn from them, but I will not let them control every decision I make and limit what I do because they are just circumstances and not life deciding factors.

I will heal… I will look into the mirror I will smile at who I am and who I've become.

I will heal…I will run and play and I will become a positive role model for my children and others.

I will heal…I will acknowledge the pain I feel inside, and learn to cope without causing physical pain to myself.

I will heal…I will accept that this is my life and it's the only life I have so I will live it to the fullest and no one will stop me.

I will heal…I will give to others all that I have to give and I will smile as I do so because that is how I was created.

I will heal…I will stand up for what I believe in and fight for the beliefs I have and I will not let someone else sway me from those beliefs. And when need be, I will be firm, but loving, and I will not back down from what I know is true.

I will heal…I will share my story with others as I can because it is my strength and stronghold and the reason I am alive.

I will heal… I will feel without judgment. I will smile and I will laugh out loud and talk with excitement. And I will cry and scream. I will wrap myself tightly in my blue blanket and allow my tears to fall freely.

I will heal…I will feel the embrace of those I love and I will embrace others who need my love.

I will heal…I will love me for who I am and I will embrace that which is me and I will love life and seek to live it to the fullest.

I will heal…I will make mistakes and when I fall I will find a way back to my hands.

I will heal…I will grieve my losses and recognize that I was not ‘bad’ because my parents were not able to love me the way a child should be loved.

I will heal…I will love with all I have in me.

I will heal...I will give and give until I am tired and empty and then I will be given too and refueled and I will go out and give again.

I will heal…I will drive down the road with the windows down, my hair blowing in the wind, singing “I WILL SURVIVE” at the top of my lungs.

I will heal…I will live my life with purpose and accept the life I have been given.

Someday, I will heal…

"Grace, penny for your thoughts"...What I'm thinking right now!

Did you know that the underside of your forearm is the most sensitive part of your whole arm? It's the place where your veins look like a small river...winding through your arm, flowing through the rest of your body.

When you make a fist the tiny veins pop up and are very close to the thin layer of skin that protects them. As I gently touch the visible scars on my own forearms...I rock and pray for my head to clear.

I want to cut myself... I want to sit on the floor, wrap myself in a blanket & slice through my skin. I want to watch the dark red blood run down my pale skin like a red river.

I want to see the pain that burns in my chest and takes my breath away.

I want to feel the pain on the outside of my body to make sense of the searing pain inside of me.

I wish I had someone to hold me while I cried.

I've never had that.

That's what I'm thinking about right now.

IMPURE!

IMPURE!

the disgust that runs in me

the scars he left within will never quell

they just get infected and starts to swell

he was never punished for his sins

so I am forced to punish myself within

for the impure blood of a rapist

that flows through my veins

Impure…

IMPURE!

what he did I will never forgive

something so terrible that i don't want to live

for the blood of a rapist poisons my heart

to cut myself and let blood leave my body

leave my soul.....so much disgust

Impure...

IMPURE!

If I don't kill her ~ one day soon she is going to kill me

It’s been a terribly difficult week, and an even worse weekend. The dissociation is worse and party girl put on her red heels and matching red lipstick and painted the town last night. And I have only a few snippet views of her dancing, flirting…’blah,blah,blah’…. I wish he would have killed me years ago! He spent all those years beating me and fucking me and I’ve taken over where he left off!

The pain has been unbearable, and I know what ‘s why the dissociation is worse – because I can’t deal with the pain so I have to go away – and I don’t really know if anyone is out there – if anyone really cares – if anyone is listening. But I feel so unbearably hopeless right now- I want someone to help me – because I can’t do it right now and I’m scared. I want to curl up in bed and stay there until it all just stops! I’m so not strong anymore…I’m exhausted and weak and waving the white flag. But no one can hear the thunder that is constantly rumbling inside of me. No one understands that the blonde sitting on the bar stool swinging her red high heels and drinking the martini someone else paid for IS NOT GRACE! I can’t find her.

I need someone to help me.
Where is everyone?
It never stops!
I wanted DT to help me, to hear me, to listen to my pain…
but I can’t even do that now- I can’t let her in.
Every single day I work so hard to just stay alive ~ and I don’t even know why.
I want to give up.
I feel so small and uncared for.

What? I don't anyone would say that...and missing 1 day of your "meds" isnt' going to make you crazy

IRRITATING COMMENT # 1

Annoying co-worker had surgery on his wrist a month ago...seriously, arthroscopic surgery...and he whines all the time! Last week he told me that we went to the grocery w/o his 'arm brace' on and the checker asked him if he tried to 'commit suicide'.

Seriously?
I doubt anyone would ever ask someone that.
I have scars from my wrists to my elbows and not one person has EVER asked me if I have tried to commit suicide. And I HAVE tried it!
Get a Clue! Give me a Break! And Leave me Alone!

IRRITATING COMMENT # 2

co-worker complaining about woman who works in another office (and I'll admit she is a bit 'emotionally disregulated' - but she probably hasn't been to DBT - cuz we all know that will level out the old emotions no one wants!
Annoying co-worker says, "God, She must have forgotten to take her meds today."
Really? Because I don't think missing 1 day of medication (If she is even on medication! Rude ass!) is going to send her over the top.

Get a clue insensitive prick!

The truth! The whole truth! & Nothing but the "truth"!

THE TRUTH!

The truth is I read, I read the words of the women who write and I can *feel* their pain, I can feel the pain of what they have lived through, what they continue to struggle with and it breaks my heart. The pain of what you may have lived through, and the strength you have to get through it…I often feel I am not worthy to be in your presence.

And when I write a post, or a comment, I write from my heart, from the innermost part of my being that comes forth and expresses a pain that is so real to me, and yet IRL this pain remains unspoken. But I feel it…every minute of every day, I feel it. And when I receive comments and words of care they blanket me in warmth, and I am touched by the words that are freely given to me by others….I can almost feel the enthusiasm, care and love in the words of those who leave comments. And it humbles me. Because I know that these words are meant to comfort me, and are spoken to me from the heart of someone who may be in need of soothing and reassurance, and yet she instead chooses to reach out, and find that comfort in the loving words left to relieve the pain of someone else.

Often, I read the words of women who bare their hearts and souls and I wonder what I can possibly say to them in the midst of their turmoil, their unending pain, when in my heart, I don’t know how it will turn out, or if they will survive the aftermath. Because truly, “surviving’ doesn’t mean we’re ‘whole’. We may continue to ‘exist’, to breathe, but perhaps we’re not ‘surviving’. We are enduring… Enduring what? Hell? I don’t know most days.



And the truth is that life isn’t fair– it isn’t, but “you do the best you can” – at least that’s what I’ve been told.

The truth is I don’t even know which one of ‘me’ is *real* and I’m scared of the many times I leave my body and can no longer communicate, it makes me feel unsafe..and the truth is it happens every single night.

The truth is I’m scared all the time because at any minute I could change into someone else and bad things can happen.

The truth is every single night my body aches with sharp and persistent pain, and I cannot rest, or find comfort. And the truth is I prefer not to be present when the pain becomes unbearable.

The truth is I feel overwhelmed with the chaos inside my head and the pain in my body – and the truth is I know that no one will be there, so why would I even ‘write’ how it *feels* anymore?

The truth is DT has no idea what happens now because the truth I don’t think she really wants to know and she wants to believe that because I don’t ‘email’ her or leave her a ‘voicemail’ that I must be doing better. *Good Job, Grace, you are doing such a great job *navigating* through the pain, in a much “healthier” way. But the truth is she doesn’t knows nothing about my “nightly navigation”.

The truth is no one wanted to know the TRUTH then, and no one wants to know it now. No one wants to see, or hear, about a man fucking a kid. Because the “TRUTH” is that it’s disgusting and revolting, and horrifying…and the thought really turns the stomach of anyone who hears it. And the truth is, if it makes you feel that way to hear it, then imagine how disgusting it feels to be a kid who was fucked.

The truth is we’re scared as hell that one of ‘us’ will hurt or kill ourselves. Because the truth is that *we* do tend to hurt and kill ourselves, and if ‘one’ of us does it – the rest of us are scared as hell that it will happen to another survivor!

The truth – the truth is a journey into madness…and you can’t handle my ‘truth’. Because your truth and my truth are WAY to different…

The truth is I’m not that scarred when I’m covered up – and the truth is no one wants to see those scars because it’s uncomfortable and perhaps a reality check that the world really is fucked up – and adults really do fuck kids – and people like me really do hurt themselves and kill themselves.

The truth is everyone ignores what isn’t “spoken” and the truth is everyone is shocked as hell when the *unspeakable* happens.

The truth is “I” am not the one with the blinders on. And the truth is you don’t see me now because you don’t want to see me. Because you WANT to believe that I’m doing “better” as a result of your “boundaries” and “limits” (what a good doctor you are!- pure genius…she finally ‘accepts’ the limitations –and as a result *huge sigh* she’s doing so much better) – but the truth is you don’t know because you don’t ask, and you don’t ask because you don’t want to know- because it’s not pretty and it certainly isn’t something you see in a showroom window.

And the truth is you don’t know what my *reality* is because you don’t want to know, you don’t want to see. Because my *reality* is covered up with a stylish haircut, make-up and lipstick, expensive clothing, eyes that hide the truth, the ability to use humor to hide even the most painful feelings, and a bright smile full of veneers.

And that’s okay – but really….your truth and my truth are as far apart as Earth and Venus.

*Smile Pretty for the Camera, Grace* ...that's "perfect"

Doubt....

Sometimes I get overwhelmed and I'm unable to find the words to express how I'm feeling.

I doubt myself and my ability to do any of this 'work' - the real work, "THIS". And I grow angry because it feels so unfair that they fuck us and we spend the rest of our lives trying to deal with it.

I find myself reading and empathizing with others, others 'like' me~ to some extent we share a 'likeness' - albeit a likeness that we would prefer NOT to share - and yet it is there, and I can feel it. I read, and I tell others:
"hang on"
"don't give up"

"it will get better"

"you can do this"

"you're so strong and so courageous"

And I mean every word of what I say to everyone. And yet, I can't say it to myself. And what I feel right now....is DOUBT. Because the truth is that sometimes it doesn't get better. And the reality is that even when you hang on by your pinky fingernails, you can still fall. And often times I feel like i CAN'T do this. So many nights I'm scared and I don't understand, and I don't even know where this is going. I don't know which one of me is in charge, and frankly, I don't know which one of me is the "real" Grace.

I haven't written much this week...I've felt tired and overwhelmed - and I haven't been able to put the chaos in my head into words on the computer screen.

The truth is...

Sometimes I'm not strong or courageous.

Sometimes I can't do this.

Sometimes I want to run and hide.
Sometimes I want to give up.

And I know I'm not the only one...and it isn't fair - it's not fair that they break us apart and we spend the rest of our lives trying to find the pieces and put them back together again. And some days I doubt I will even be able to find all the pieces of me.

And it feels like it's me against the world....and the world is winning...

Is life fair?
Doubt it!

If I Die Tonight

If I die tonight
Hold onto these last words
But do not let them bring you down
I am saying them to you
To help to get you through
When I am gone
If I die tonight
I would want you to know
How much you have meant to me
You have been a rock in my life
My source of strength through everything on this endless journey
I would not have made it this far without you and your support
If I die tonight
I would want you to know that I am very thankful
That I got the chance to be part of your life
As you have been such a wonderful part of mine
If I die tonight
I hope you’ll continue to live your life to the fullest
Knowing that I could not, in mine
So please, do it for me
If I die tonight
Please know that I will be in a better place
What wherever that place is know that I am happy
And please remember that I will always love you
Because love is the one thing what will never die

What we feel: abandoned, exhausted, listless, frightened, depressed, disillusioned, hopeless, vulnerable, disheartened…

You don't know the real me. I don't know the real me. I only know the parts.

Do you know the part of me who has no feelings, who feels no pain, that part of me who does not love? Do you know that part of me who survives despite the struggle not too? She punishes me, that woman. She will take everything I have and make it disappear. She will take it because she knows I can’t be trusted not to cave in emotionally. She is empty and she wants me to be empty. She feels nothing, less, than nothing, and she wishes to disappear. She will hurt me but she feels no pain. She wants to hurt, to be hurt, because she deserves the pain – she deserves to be hurt. She takes care of no one and expects no one to care for her.

Do you know the part of me who is explosive & raucous? The one who speaks before she thinks? Have you met the angry girl who spews venom on the rest of us~ unconsciously yet fortuitous like a loud crash? Her words are frenzied; they engulf and hinder, they get in the way. And yet she is full of them ~ poisonous words that she is unable to contain. Her lashing anger is knee-jerk and reckless, her words cut like knives.

Do you know the part of me who has emotions so overwhelming that her very presence chokes the life out of me? The part of me who vomits to get out the feelings of dirt and shame…she pukes until she is empty and even when there is nothing left, she cannot breathe. She used to be the strong one, but now she is weak. She is easily overwhelmed and she cuts herself to feel heremotional pain in a physical way, a way that makes more sense to her.

Have you met the whiny little brat? The 5 year old brat who weighs me down, overwhelms me with her needy dependence…Her feelings consume me, envelop me, and I can no longer hear myself because she GETS IN THE WAY! None of the others like her. She just needs so much! She can’t even take care of herself. She wears her weakness, her sadness…like a coat of arms. She is pathetic! She is the reason we are where we are – because SHE was the weak one, the one who couldn’t resist him. This is all her fault!

I have been betrayed, abused, and broken. I feel there is nothing inside of me holding me up~ soon I will crumble like cinders…dirty worthless ash. Leave me alone because alone is where I am safe. Alone is where I want to be. Alone is where I can take care of myself. But the rest of you, the freaks inside of me?

GO AWAY! All of you! Go away! You all consume me and I can no longer feel me. I feel like there’s a cord tied around my neck and each of you want to pull the noose a little tighter, drag me down. You want me to weaken, so you can control me. You are all like an Achilles Heel – you all drag me down until I can no longer breathe.

Please go away. Please leave me alone.