Accepting the Unacceptable

Upon reflecting over the last week, where i was not at all present, there seems to have been a bit of an uprising. Perhaps i should have seen it coming, but i did not. Maybe i could have, had there not been so bloody much going on leading up to it, but there was, and i could not. This being a grownup and living life on life’s terms can be quite the sticky wicket, eh?

I knew i was struggling, and i knew why. I’d had a couple of blips already where i’d lost the face to various and sundry that dwell here in my brain with me. I am committed to the process of handling my mental disorders and now, my apparent neurodivergence. I was picking myself up, dusting myself off (thankfully, not starting all over again, as Cole’s lyrics go), and getting back to it. I was unprepared for the tidal wave that came rushing in. It washed me up on the shore of my mind, exhausted, barely breathing, with my guts full of seawater. It kept washing me further and further up the beach, away from the salty soup of thoughts and activity that comprises who i am as a person.

My personality, or in my case, personalities, as it were.

I handled an issue in a primary relationship that was a long time coming, and i think that’s what broke me. It left me vulnerable, so much so that there was a rush of alters who came for the face. Some, to help, others to play, a couple hoping to take over. I was bashed about quite violently before being left there, on the edge of the shore.

I haven’t yet found the words to properly describe what it’s like, when i’m fighting for control and losing – when i am at war with my lesser selves who are me but not exactly me. These metaphors and analogies fall short in all (our) my estimations, but it must suffice.

There is wreckage, more than usual. I was interacting with some friends; i don’t know if they knew it wasn’t me, but there is a bit of a mess to clean up there. With one of those there are hurt feelings for which i hope i can make amends. In the other, the interaction put a loved one in some jeopardy. I’m in isolation until we’re sure it’s safe for me to be near him. He knows what comes when one lives with a multiple, and is unfazed. I’m mortified, but not devastated.

I’ve lived with a multiple for my entire life, you see. Heh.

I’m not sorry i held such high hopes that i’d get through this spring without my system’s usual shenanigans. If not for life life-ing me so freaking hard these last few weeks, i believe i could have done it. But life is a bit of a bastard, innit? At least i was able to wrest control back before my family had me committed, which was on the table.

In the past, when i’ve lost total control for similar lengths of time, i’ve been overwhelmed by feelings of shame, guilt, devastation, fury. The lack of control consumed and terrified me. It left me feeling hopeless that my life would ever be any other way. It left me open to further time losses. But slowly, and yes, sometimes it’s so slowly i’m gnashing my teeth and pulling out my hair, my life is changing. And for the better.

This time, i can accept what happened. I can see that this is my lot in life, and that’s not fatalistic. It is, as the current saying goes, what it is. I acknowledge this truth, and in so doing, free up an impressive amount of energy.

To pick myself up, dust myself off…

And get back to it.


Y’all Hang In There, Y’Hear?
~H~

Dear Diary

Today i am snippy. I’ve been out of sorts and i’m churlish – not much fun to share space with, i’m afraid. I keep trying to keep my mouth shut, but it’s not working. Next step is hiding in my room and watching nonsense on my laptop. I don’t like being a jerk, and i’m kinda being one.

I need to get more testing with regards to the spectrum diagnosis, but that was recommended months ago and i have yet to act on it. I finally disclosed, but not to my family – on social media. Who does that? Someone with communication and intimacy and socialisation issues? Is it evidence that the diagnosis is accurate? I mean, the diagnosis is a professional one, but i ran from DID for many years before i accepted it. I could also judge all that i do now using autism as my filter, and see it everywhere, in everything i do, but confirmation bias is no more helpful than denial.

I just want to know the truth.
Just.
Pfft. Is that all?

I connected with some of my friends last night. Just seeing their faces made me want to cry. Not from sadness, rather relief. I remembered that i am loved and accepted for exactly who i am, by people that i trust and respect. I feel isolated and alone right now, but it is not the reality. I’ve been working with my husband, trying to make writing a career, living through a pandemic in a religious and politically conservative area where i’ve never quite fit. I’m in a bipolar mania, my husband and son and best friend all have serious health issues, and i got a new diagnosis that has thrown me for the proverbial loop.

I have so much that needs doing i’m frozen.
So i came here and wrote –a day late and a dollar short– but i came here and wrote.

These next entries won’t be like what i generally post. This is going to be more of a diary than a blog for a while.
If you’re able to tune in, thank you.


Love and Peace,
~H~

IMAGE: Kinga Cichewicz