I have spent my morning working on my planner and my bullet journal. I gave up on updating my food log because it's been at least two weeks since I wrote in there. (I was still calculating carbs and eating within my limits, I just wasn't writing anything down.) I am tired after washing a fuck ton of dishes. There's still a good number left but I have run out of counter space. I was debating if I was going to cook dinner tonight (hamburgers) in the stove but I think I'm going to fry them in a pan. It will take a little longer but I don't have room to put the big broiler pan in the sink to wash it.
I got some blogging done on one of my witchy blogs. I took care of some papers. I got the mail. I did some spinning stuff. So, I am getting things done and slowly getting caught up on things. I tell myself every day that today is going to be a productive day. Of late, that's been hard. Because of the depression and ptsd working together to kick my ass, I haven't been sleeping well and that makes me exhausted through the day.
Today, I haven't had any flashbacks. This is a good thing. I did have a memory come up but I wasn't left shaking and upset with it. I was darkly amused by it. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not. I mean, being beaten with a car antenna (even when you're wearing denim and snow gear) is pretty horrible. But I was amused by the fact that the beating was so much less effective because of the layers we were wearing when it happened. I've been writing about trauma stuff in my morning blogging on my writing blog (which is an extension of the morning pages that I am doing as part of the Artist's Way). It's made the blog a bit darker in content.
I still have not found a therapist to work with. Doing this free writing where stuff that is trauma related gets vomited out may be as close to actual therapy work as I get. I have three college ruled notebooks full of the stuff. I'm probably going to be filling up a fourth. I have no idea what I'm going to do with these notebooks. At the same time, I still am dealing with some weirdness inside my head that I don't know how to handle.
As I was writing, I had a different part of myself sort of riding shotgun and telling the story as I typed it down. It was weird. I didn't lose time. But this part of myself that I don't have much to do with just popped up and told me the story of the time my mother and grandmother were canning tomatoes and other stuff. I was in my single digits. I was playing in the far corner of the room and my mother scolded me to get out of the kitchen, despite the fact that I was safely out of the way. Her real problem was the fact that I wasn't supervising my brothers. I knew it, she knew it. I suspect my grandmother knew it too. After all, I was the eldest child.
It was weird to be in two headspaces at the same time. On the other hand, it was also familiar. I don't know if this means I am making progress on getting to know my interior selves or not. I found myself jumping from headspace to headspace today. It's part of the reason why I am tired right now. At the same time, I got a lot of stuff done. I don't know if that means I am a person with multiple personalities or not. I know that when I was in each different headspace, I remember different things.
I have a journal that I was writing in with these different parts of myself. I watched my handwriting change. I watched my tone of writing change. It wasn't a big deal but it was weird. I had people comment on my handwriting changing with my mental state. One person said that my signature looked like that of an entirely different person according to my mood. I don't know if that's normal.
I just know that it is noisy in my head. It's not hallucinations. Thank gods for that. It's more like I'm listening to other people's thoughts running through my head some times. Or, perhaps more accurately, it's like listening to a group of people in another room having a conversation that I can hear pieces of it. I can't see them. I can't tell how many people are there. But I can hear snippets of the conversation.
Today, the self-destructive one was quiet. There were no comments along the lines that I was a burden to my entire family. No comments that I should pull the pin on my marriage to spare my husband the misery of caring for me. And no comments that I should do everyone a favor and just walk away / die. I think that was because I actually got a full night of sleep last night.
Instead there was the List-maker who was busy helping me organize everything for this week and next. There was the Care-taker who helped me wash a ton of dishes with out getting caught up in panic over the idea that I'm going to do it wrong and either have to wash everything over again or be beaten in punishment. There are others in my head just doing their own thing. If I concentrate, I can tell what's going on. But I don't know how much of this is an over active imagination.
How can you tell when you have more than one personality?
No comments:
Post a Comment