There are times when having DID is a challenge, when I search desperately to be ‘normal’ and yet it doesn’t seem to be in reach. This past week I have found myself struggling with post holiday blues and the nightmare pile of laundry, but most of all it’s been hard to accept my abilities don’t always match up to my own expectations. My psychologist told me last week that I needed to accept that I was doing ok for someone with a trauma history and that my fears and limitations were normal for me.
Yet the harsh reality of life back at home is slowly kicking in and I’m having to comprehend I have issues, issues that for two weeks I tried to ignore in the bliss of sunshine and my holiday environment. I am trying hard to face the fact that for 5 months now I haven’t been able to sleep upstairs in my home, it’s a combination of factors, body memories, paranoia and obscure thinking and fears. So now my bed is actually in pieces, my room looks like a complete tip and it’s not a conducive sleeping environment.
I have tried to explain my sleep issue to people but I realise now that I haven’t been totally honest about my thoughts and feelings and yes it’s time I was. So today I have therapy and I intend to try and explain the issue to my psychologist in the hope he can help me understand why I am in this particular mess.
Some of me are actually fed up of the uncomfortable sofa we now call bed, and would quite like to sleep in comfort. Yet other parts can’t even face going upstairs for a shower and it takes all of my inner strength to get us up the stairs. I see my bedroom as contaminated and my actual bed feels even worse, I have some ideas of how this started but now it’s past illogical my thoughts are obscure and down right odd.
Since I got home I have kept thinking that if my Care Coordinator saw the upstairs of my home she’d be horrified and most probably concerned. You see I’m good at hiding how bad things are, I’m skilled at hiding the facts in order to keep the community mental health team off my back. I’ve learnt if I look ok, my hair is brushed and my lounge tidy they don’t ask questions. Rightly or wrongly staff take me at face value and are easily misled about how we are coping. So a quick squirt of body spray masks so much as does furniture polish and room fragrance, they think I’ve cleaned when I haven’t. Of course it’s not unhygienic it’s just a mess, it’s just too overwhelming to deal with and yes in my mind the upstairs of my home is contaminated. To think this all started from a body memory and a tiny bug in my room all at the same time, that was back in the autumn and now spring is fast approaching and the issue has escalated even more.
My care coordinator visits next week and I am thinking it maybe time I took her for a walk upstairs to explain just how things really are. You see I’m slowly becoming aware that if I keep ignoring dealing with this issue it will just continue to escalate and it’s already too big for me to deal with on my own. In fact it now feels so overwhelming I can’t cope with it, I keep crying about it and when I mean crying I mean crying. Full on floods of tears, uncontrollable and distressing for all of me and that can’t be good.
My reason for realising I need help, well one of me a younger alter has been quite blunt she has told me I need to sort it out as she wants to stretch out in a bed. She has been able to help me realise I can’t do this on my own and it’s time to ask for help, it is time to accept this is an issue of escalating proportions. It’s something I need to tackle and I can’t on my own, so with a bit of luck and courage from other parts of me I will tell my psychologist how things are and I will tell my care coordinator too.
Yet it’s hard for me to accept I need help, my life is all about surviving, all about coping with day to day. It’s all about trying to deal with my alters; the other parts of me, and ensuring I give them time, I listen to their needs as well as my own. That’s why this past week I haven’t done housework or food shopping instead I have slept a lot and been to the beach with my teen alter. I’ve journaled and communicated with my parts and I’ve tried to focus on ignoring life.
Well now it’s time to say I’m struggling and help is required, I’ve had less support recently and whilst we thought a new PA was starting, she has decided she can’t after all. It’s just one more thing that’s adding to the mix and piling on pressure, pressure I can’t face. Most of all I guess I’m accepting that my past is still affecting my today and whilst my normal isn’t bad, it’s just impaired because of the trauma in my past and I’m in need of help.
Maybe accepting that is the first step on this journey of turning things around and hopefully overcoming my odd thinking. Maybe just maybe I will get to understand why I think how I do and one day soon hopefully I’ll be back upstairs in a bed that doesn’t scare me or feel contaminated in some way, here’s hoping.
Copyright DID Dispatches 2015