The boyfriend and I had a bit of a chat yesterday. We don't do the serious thing very often.

I know he's been feeling a bit stuck lately, and is quite stressed out over a few big deals, and so is working crazy hours. In classic me-fashion, I have been trying to hide how ###$ up my brain is ATM so as not to put any extra strain on him. Or maybe its not quite so noble and that's just what I do. Hide the messy bits. Sweep it under the rug. Up to this point I had thought I was doing a decent job of it. Ha!

He sort of came to me yesterday and hugged me and wouldn't let me go. When I finally managed to get him to talk to me, it turns out he has also been stressing about me. That he sees how much strain I've been taking lately, and has been feeling powerless to help me. That he felt useless with the episode with my mother. And now he's worried that with all the negativity I might go back to my old habits.

Ok, so first off, that night with my mother he did the best possible thing he could've done, and I told him so. I'm hoping he understood that. He did not let me go alone, he stayed with me and he didn't say anything. Oh, and he didn't argue when I insisted that I drive us home afterwards. I needed something to do/focus on at that point in time, or I would have crumbled, and he got that. Or I'm just scary in that mood and not to be messed with, idk. He comes from a nice, normal, STABLE family, so I hate that he had to see just how ###$ up mine is. But he was there for me and he didn't push me to talk about it afterwards. That is HUGE to me.

Next, "my old habits"... I knew exactly what he was referring to but asked what he meant anyway. He deflected and I didn't push any further. CUTTING. Its not a dirty word. But he still can't say it. He's happier to stick with euphemisms and I'm happier not to talk about it altogether. If he had asked directly I would've had to admit that I have slipped up in recent times. That it never really went away, and maybe it never will. This would serve no purpose other than to upset him, so I'm glad we left it at that.

Clearly, the cracks have been showing in my little 'coping' façade. I did admit to him a few days ago that I've been smoking again, but also told him that its actually kind of a good thing as it gets me away from a screen and forces me to go outside and switch off for a few minutes at a time. Which is true. I also tried to ease his mind a bit by saying that it could just be the winter that's getting me down. I've been considering this recently and it could be a part of it.

I hope it helped. I am not supposed to be an added source of stress to him! Not now. Not when he already has so much going on.

So now I'm pissed off at myself and the paranoid part of me goes into overdrive.

What made him think of the cutting? Could he be checking what websites I visit? He is miles ahead of me in terms of technology, and at home he set up a firewall pc, so is the 'incognito' function of my browser effectively useless? I have flat out refused to show him what I'm looking at on my tablet a few times now, and he's not been too happy about it. The only thing I'm hiding is my being on psychforums. He would spot my nick in a heartbeat, which would be a disaster for both of us. I don't want him to see the darker corners of my mind.

Would he ever break my trust like that?
And if he did would it be my fault for keeping things from him the first place?
Am I terrible for thinking like this?
Is it paranoia if its entirely possible?

My Dad passed away last night.

Life just got a little darker. A little sadder. A little less everything.

Usually at this point in my blog, if I say something negative, I follow it with a 'but'. I don't have that tonight. There's no optimism in me right now. I'm just sad.

He was 81 and in the hospital, but we were planning on bringing him home. He suddenly took a turn for the worse yesterday morning and was gone by the end of the day.

I'm grateful that we were all there during his hospital stay (but unfortunately, not when he passed) and I'm grateful he had 81 years of a great life. Obviously, at that age, we weren't totally unprepared, but still, he was doing SO good and I honestly thought he'd make it to at least 90, if not more. I AM grateful for 81 years, though.

I'm sure I'll come up with more good in the next few days, but for right now, that's all the gratitude I can muster.

I suppose I'm also grateful that I was fully there for him in what turned out to be his last few days. I have no intention of gambling. I wouldn't use his passing as an excuse to be weak. I owe him more than that. If this journey has taught me nothing else, it's that allowing myself to feel exactly what I feel is okay. And what I feel right now is grief. A LOT of it.

Not sure when (or if) I'll write any more blogs. Frankly I'm just concentrating on getting through tonight, but I wanted to put this out there, so no one thought I'd slipped and disappeared. I'd hate to be a negative influence on anyone's recovery. I'm not slipping. I'm just hurting, and I need to find some peace. For me, that means burrowing away for the foreseeable future.

Gonna do some crying for the next little while, and see where it goes from there. Good luck everyone who's in the struggle, and thanks to everyone who has posted, for being such help in mine.

Bye for awhile, and all the best.

I have fear of not being good enough to be outside or around anything or anyone! Im working on this and getting help! the help is not perfect; Im not respected for who I am; Im not sure anyone knows who I am; my real level of ability or development! However, it matters not; God is running things and I humble myself to get the help!

*warning this may trigger those with eating disorders*

When I was very young feeding me was a horror. I rarely ate anything other than PB sandwiches, hotdogs, and sunnyside-up eggs (but just the yolk on my toast). Every meal was an opportunity to terrorize me. Vegetables were the stuff of nightmares. Just thinking about putting a veggie on my tongue made me want to hurl.

I have no memories of eating prior to the divorce, aside from my dad telling me that my spaghetti was monkey brains. It’s a fun memory though. Dad made things fun that other grownup were just mean about.

Eating became the center of my universe when I moved in with gramma. She always had something cooking, some new desert to try, or a batter beater to lick. She was so happy to feed me, and I loved making my gramma happy. Her macaroni and cheese couldn’t be beat. Throw some buttery mashed potatoes on there with a couple of cans of pepsi and we had ourselves a party.

Whenever I had something to celebrate gramma would take me out for a McDonald’s milkshake, or Arby’s roast beef, or pizza hut, or burger king. And I loved it. Where was my mom? I don’t know. That’s a good question.

I didn’t know I was getting heavy until mom started making comments. She made me come upstairs to give me a “present”. I was all excited until I saw it: a desk ornament of a fat pig holding a sign that said: Don’t Pig Out. She explained that looking at this every day would help me develop better eating habits. I wanted to cry so bad, but she never gives me anything and if I were to get upset she might leave me forever. So I forced myself to smile and thank her.

End part 1

This blog is running slow!

Iv'e been venturing out. More and More My condition is turning back into a severe anxiety disorder. Most of the Pshyzo condition is disappearing. More specifically when Im alone. However, under pressure of the outside world, when I have no place to hide, it remains. Its not the same as before.

For the first time in my adult life, the dissociative condition is being broken through. The real me, the original personality is starting to come out. Its starting to shine through. I want through. It is happening.. This is a great thing.. Its a beginning. It will take time.

I have no memories as I wake up. Its as if I got on my bike to ride to the store. The sun is shining, I looked back at my house on Palouse st, I headed by my best friends house and the other houses on the block, as I am traveling forward I start to day dream, as I enter the parking lot of the store I look down and notice my arms. White hair is protruding from the skin. Its not white hair, its grey. I have grey hair. I have aged 40 years within a few moments. Yet, somehow I know, Im 50 years old. Yet, I notice nothing, and nothing seems wrong. Im not sure why. Im not sure how the mind can turn the past off. I become present and nothing matters. Im aware something is strange and something is wrong, Yet, I don't remember. So I go forward as the original me.

Problems:

Getting ran over by people; specifically the dumb spoiled middle classes. Not all, some. Im still getting manipulated. Im a nice guy, I respond to people as a nice sincere person, my biggest mistake. I have to learn to have boundaries, stay away from these manipulators. They are arrogant stupid manipulative people. Im of a decent sort, I don't except people to take advantage of me. Its horrible. I am undercut and have no idea what happened. By the time I understand, its to late, Iv'e been taken.

PTSD problems remain, they are bad.
Dissociative condition remains. its better, there is movement beyond freeze state. Still mass problems; the close I get to people ( physically close) I dissociate back into unreality.
AVPD is alive and well, it gets better as the DD gets better.
D.I.D. is what it is. Im not bothered by it. I switch once in awhile. All alters seems to be working together. Im still detached from the original broken tortured person. Im not sure what to do about this. I will have to continue to work on it. I don't have the problems others have with D.I.D. Im not sure why,. My alters are fairly quit at this point. We are all working together, not allot of conflict. I think this is because Im on my knees to God all day long, so my alters know Im trying the best I can to go in the right direction.
General Anxiety is a bitch: The electric fence never goes away, its a constant challenge.

Iv'e dropped down from 100% to about 75% to 50% in all areas. This is a great thing.

Im drumming again. Practicing every day. I want to get a big speed metal set and put together a speed metal band. This cannot not be now; in the future.

Still cant sit at the computer and create the way I want to, I dissociate to much.
----------------------------


Went to work today for a friend. First Time Iv'e worked in a long time...
I was nervous at first, However, after awhile things got better. The impaction of being so close to someone, taking orders, working so close, causes great stress to the PTSD areas; I knew this.
I wasn't sure how much I could take. I am infected from the start. The question is; how much can I take; then what?. I was ripped up emotionally after the day was over.. About 5 hours of work. It had nothing to do with the physical. It had to do with exposure. I had no control over my environment. The different alters in me went bizirk. I did survive. I did OK as long as someone else was doing the thinking and I was taking orders as a helper. I cannot handle the pressure of any responsibility or to be focused...

[ Continued ]