Lousy Best Friend

I have been the worst best friend these past couple of months. I'm used to having a lot on my plate and I don't have a problem with always being busy, but I have ALWAYS had time for my best friend. If she called me and needed me to come or wanted to come to me, I would always find time. If she was having a bad day I would bring her a treat. If she accomplished something she had been working towards for so long I would make sure I was there to cheer her on. I would always make time for her.

Right now I've been so focused on my brother's wife (she has liver cancer) and their family, plus my new baby girl and my other 2 girls, plus my husband, plus one of my sister's who had to have surgery recently, plus therapy sessions. I simply can't find the time to be there for my best friend.

I missed her college graduation.
I missed her finishing student teaching.
I missed her getting her first "real" job.
I missed shopping with her for teacher and school supplies.
I missed her graduation party.
I missed her several calls to my phone. Her voicemails telling me of these accomplishments and wishes.
I missed the opportunity to be there for her so she could cry on my shoulder when she lost a very close friend.

I have missed so much these past few months and I'm afraid of growing apart from my best friend. I've known her for more than 12 years. How could I miss so much in such a short amount of time?

Bee, I am going to do better starting now. You deserve that!

New Therapist

I think we wish ourselves to be okay when we find ourselves not wanting to work through something particularly difficult.

Many things have happened since I last posted. The major one, of course, is having a new baby at home. She is so precious and adorable and it is so hard to let her sleep or be in someone else's arms without feeling like I've had a limb amputated.

I have also switched to a new therapist. She is much different from previous therapists that I have gone to but I feel like this new one is a much better match. Our first session was awkward. To be honest, I really didn't want to have a second session. I went home that night and told my husband that it would not work out and that I needed to keep searching. He asked me why and all I could come up with was "it was so awkward!" Being the man that he is, he told me I needed to give this therapist another shot.

Our second session was better but still awkward. It was seriously like a movie or tv show, where the therapist sits in the big, comfy looking chair and the client/patient is sitting on the far end of the couch, opposite from the therapist. The conversation consists of the therapist asking extremely thought-provoking questions while the patient sits there wide-eyed and panicky.

I don't know how I managed to go to the third session. There was still awkwardness hanging in the air but I was starting to warm up to her and my alters started to feel more comfortable about coming out. Over the past couple of weeks I have really started to realize and get to know my alters. Through much research and reading I have found that I am co-conscious with my alters, except for at night - I can lose time anywhere from 30 minutes to 6 or 8 or 10 hours at night. I'm still in the dark about most things though, regarding DID.

The fourth session was really the one where we just clicked. No more awkwardness, no more hiding, no more trying to pretend like I wanted to be there. I accomplish more in the sessions and during the time inbetween sessions that I already feel like an entirely new person. The change was much needed.

I better get back to my motherly duties! Hopefully I will be posting more regularly again.

10-10-10

I had my little girl yesterday, 10-10-10. We named her Lyndrea Amerae. She was 6lbs, 2 oz, 19 inches. And TONS of hair! My other two girls were completely bald for months. Words cannot express the love I have for this little girl...

I am horrible with keeping up with this blog...I have been so busy these past few months and I seem to never find the time. We're also in the process of moving again.

I'm really tired but I hope to get back on soon and post a "real" blog.

Take care.

Just Some Thoughts

Wow I just really suck right now at keeping up with my blog... So much is going on right now in my life that it's hard to find the time. I have three of my younger sisters staying with me right now and it has been crazy at my house! I've been able to see my therapist once since I last wrote and that seemed to help me out a lot.

I have set aside a time every morning after I send Kel off to school and take Tey to preschool/day care at my other sister's house, to lay down and relax. I breathe really deeply while listening to Chakra Suite. I fall into a sort of "trance" (for lack of a better word) and I find my alters and we talk. I usually do this about an hour to really hear what they need to tell me and to get to know them better. It has been a huge deal for us and it is really helping. My days are much better and I hardly lose time at all.

This in time, I fear, will not work any longer for us for whatever reason, but for now it's pretty amazing.

I'm Still Here

It has been a while since I've written. I was in the hospital for a few days... I had some complications with my pregnancy but things are fine now. Shortly after that, my sister in law fell ill so I flew up to help my brother (her husband) with their 9 kids. Now I am finally back in my own home, slowly trying to get back into my routine. But school is starting very soon so I have been rushing around trying to get my daughter Kel ready for first grade. She won't even be 5 years old on her first day!

Since I have been gone I haven't been able to meet with my therapist and it is really starting to get to me. I have had some memories pop up at random times throughout my days and some of them are very disturbing. I so badly wish that they aren't real but I know they are.

I am also starting to recognize and get used to the inside "chatter". I think they are starting to feel more comfortable about letting me know who they are. I often find myself trying to talk to them, but I feel ridiculous. I'm still trying to accept that they are actually there. I guess having a Schizophrenia label for so long really hinders progress in the DID area.

I Couldn't Even Stop It... - Part 5

I had to leave. I was 18 years old so legally I could leave. I called my aunt who lived in Arizona and asked if I could come live with her. She said she would love to have me.

I couldn't tell anyone what Chris was doing to me every night. Instead, my siblings and some of my friends who knew he was coming over thought Chris and I were starting a relationship. I desperately wished to tell.

My cousin Lynne, her brother J, and their mom drove to my house and we loaded up my stuff into their van. Chris begged to come along. Linda, not knowing the situation, said he would be welcome to accompany us. We climbed into the back seat and he did things to me the entire drive there.

When we arrived at their house, I was very emotionally unstable. Lynne grabbed my arm and took me to her room. She told me she could tell something wasn't right and that I needed to tell her what was going on. I reluctantly told her what Chris had been doing to me for the past three weeks. As soon as the words let my lips, the door came crashing down.

Before I even realized what was happening, I was knocked to the ground. I heard Lynne screaming. Josh came running into the room and pulled Chris off of me. They called the police and he was taken into custody.

To be continued...

I Couldn't Even Stop It...

We were up in Washington for a big family event. Most of my siblings, many of my cousins, quite a few uncles and aunts. We rented out the entire hotel. Ash and I were sharing a room.

Ash had a hole in her lung because of our biologial father stabbing her, so she had to do breathing treatments twice a day to make sure fluid stayed out of her lungs - once about an hour after she woke up and once during the night, around midnight.

After we had been there a couple of nights, Ash started to act a little abnormal. She kept telling people how much she appreciated them (quite a bit more than normal) and she kept hugging me and spent almost every waking moment with me.

We went to sleep that night as usual, and around midnight Ash's alarm went off to do her breathing treatment. I sat up and waited for her to be done and then laid back down and went to sleep.

Around one o'clock I heard these awful sounds coming from the other side of the room. But I was too tired to try to figure out what it was. About two o'clock and I woke up again, and again I could hear these awful sounds. Three o'clock came and the awful sounds were so loud that I couldn't take it anymore. I got out of bed and stumbled to the other side of the room.

I found Ash on the floor, completely black and blue and very swollen.

I screamed and ran out of the room, down the hall, to our aunt's room. I banged and kicked on the door, screaming as loud as I could. I was crying so hard that when she opened the door she couldn't understand a word I was saying.

I managed to get her back to my room. She called 911 and within 4 minutes they were there, loading her into the back of the vehicle. I rode with her to the hospital.

When we got there the doctors tried prying me away from her but they couldn't get me to calm down. My aunt begged them to let me go with Ash because she knew I wouldn't be okay without her.

They went into immediate surgery. Both of her lungs had collasped.

I held her hand the entire time.

Three hours later, she was hooked up to a life machine. All I can remember doing is lying next to her and sobbing "don't leave me, please. don't leave me."

No one else was allowed in the room because of her condition.

The doctors kept telling me that she just needed to get through this little bit and then she would be fine. But two hours later, she was slipping away.

They pronounced her dead at 11:03 am on February 10, 2005.

To be continued...

It Was Never Truly Over - Part 3

**This may be triggering so please proceed with caution**

The first time I saw my mother put my two year old sister in the kitchen oven, I passed out. I had only ever known my sister and I to be the ones to be abused in any situation. This single event made me wonder if there was any good in the world.

My second oldest brother, K-2, would trap me in a corner of the house, grab me, and then take me downstairs where he would duct tape me to a chair. Sometimes his friends would come over and join in with him. They called me crude names and took turns fondling me. Sometimes we would be down there for hours.

The church my new parents were members of taught beautiful things, I just couldn't ever believe them. They said parents were good and taught their children well. They were protectors from evil and were there to show you the good. They never hurt you and would listen to what you had to say. All of this was a load of crap, in my mind.

The only parents I had known had hurt me in more ways than anybody could ever imagine.

There was one boy my mother sold me to who did not force me to have sex with him. Instead, he held me and let me cry on his shoulder. He told me he would tell my mother we had done it so I wouldn't get into more trouble. I later found out that his father had forced him into this and he didn't want to hurt anybody. He was only my age.

It is all scattered and coming back to me in fragments. It is very hard to talk about and yet I feel this overwhelming need to tell because I can. I have that right now that I didn't have before.

I Feel Fake-ish...

In therapy this morning my therapist talked about how my alters (still getting used to this word) will start to make themselves known to me. She already knows of three distinct ones all of which are named after fruit: Apple, Pear, and Plum. I should have entitled my blog “The Fruit Basket”.

While I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, I felt like I was trapped in this unknown world that encompassed my life. It didn’t always affect me but it was definitely always looming around close by. Now that I have a DID diagnosis, I kind of feel like I’m faking it. I’m not sure how one could fake DID 24/7 without someone catching them in a “normal” state. Nevertheless, I feel like I’m faking it all.

Maybe if I could just meet one of my alters - that word still sounds foreign to me; almost like it shouldn’t be a part of my vocabulary - it would help me to realize I’m not faking it or that my therapist isn’t feeding me a load of crap.

I know they are there, though, if that makes sense. I can feel a presence.

I’m going to spend the day with my one year old, Tey (Peyton). My four year old Kel (Brookelynne) is hanging with Grandma and some of her cousins.