Did I ever describe what made me go back to therapy?


I was looking over my old posts and I can’t find anything about the things that happened that made me approach my psychiatrist and why he sent me back to therapy. How weird, you’d think that would’ve been first. Alright so for some reason I feel like talking about it, so I will. maybe I said some of this stuff maybe I didn’t but I’m going to post it anyway, because I want to.

I think I’ve said before (or maybe not) that I’ve heard people talking in my head since I was a kid. 8 years old is a very defining age for me but I don’t know why. It’s like there was life before 8 and then life after 8. I’m stuck on that number but I don’t know what happened to make it important. I do remember the physical abuse and when I liked pretty, little lacy things at the department store when I was with my mom, her telling me that only sluts liked that kind of stuff. I think we were in Dillard’s or something so go figure, it’s not like there’s anything kinky there. Anyway so I can clearly remember not hearing the voices and then something changed I heard the voices and always have since then. Don’t know what age it happened. Of course I thought this was normal and never gave it a second thought. Within the past year (?) I started realizing something was different. I was having some kind of out-of-body experiences where it felt like my brain was being pulled out of my head and I could see myself from above looking down but I couldn’t move my arms or talk or anything. I realized something strange was happening at the time but I didn’t know what was happening. I became aware that when I was around people and they were talking, I couldn’t hear them and I had to pretend I heard them and fake some sort of response and hope it was the right one because I didn’t know what they had said even though I was right there seeing their lips move. One day I found myself standing next to the island in our kitchen. I wasn’t wearing my glasses which I had been after I got up in the morning. I wasn’t wearing my contacts which is my only other option to see. I was just standing there with no memory of how I got there, what time it was, what had happened, or how much time had passed. Come to find out that quite some time had passed. I was very confused but I was more confused about my glasses since I cannot see without them. I looked in all the normal places. I happen to be very organized about my glasses because I lost a pair years ago and never figured out how I did it. Anyway I looked in every place I might ever place them thinking that I had lain them down and forgotten where I put them. I looked everywhere, every corner, every shelf. nothing. I was getting upset and kind of frightened but I didn’t really know why except that something felt wrong. There was no one else in the house besides me. All I remember is that I eventually found my glasses in place that made absolutely NO sense. It was completely illogical and it was a place I would never put them, somewhere I would never look, which is how I found them because I kind of stopped looking out of fear and frustration and then there they were in some completely off-the-wall, hidden place. That was my first clue that something was very wrong. I can’t remember where I found them only that it was like someone hid them somewhere I would never normally look.

The next incident sealed the deal. I was at home with my husband and at that time I was rolling my hair with pink sponge rollers at night and putting a scarf on to sleep in. I always put my rollers in a specific drawer in my bathroom. I only have two drawers in there and they went in the left one with the scarf. Every night for months without exception. That night there weren’t there. I looked everywhere. Under the sink, in the cabinet, in my bedroom drawers, everywhere. Nothing. Then as I started to get really nervous something pink caught my eye. I got down on the bathroom floor and there in my wastebasket under a pile of trash were the rollers. Now to get the significance of this you have to understand that in order for the rollers to be put down in the trash where they were, the trash on top would have had to have been pulled out, the rollers put in and the trash put back on top of them. At that point, in a state of a kind of numb shock, I asked my husband if he had moved them. He was puzzled as to why he would do that as that particular bathroom belongs to me and I’m the only one who uses it (we don’t have kids so no excuse there). Well that did it. I went to my psychiatrist, told him what happened and he sent me to my normal therapist. He obviously suspected something then but he didn’t tell me anything, for good reason. All I remember is that he said that, that door should be opened at my therapist office not with him. He was so very right of course. He’s a smart guy.

Alright so that’s my story, even though it’s extremely late. I’m going to make another post after this because I realize that during this whole time I’ve never mentioned one of the most horrible events of my life that has absolutely contributed to my already traumatic life. I don’t think it will trigger anyone as this particular event was not abuse related but still profound. I figure I’ll warn you anyway. Why haven’t I said this? I have no idea as it was a pivotal moment in life…

continued in the next post…

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About CimmarianInk

Abuse Survivor Diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder PTSD and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) also known as Multiple Personalities
This entry was posted in abuse, bipolar disorder, depersonalization, depression, derealization, DID, dissociation, dissociative fugue, dissociative identity disorder, headaches, Medication, Meds, Mental Health, Multiple Personalities, Psychiatric Drugs, Psychiatric medication, Psychiatry, PTSD and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Did I ever describe what made me go back to therapy?

  1. roseroars says:

    It’s good that you were already in contact with a psychiatrist! Some of us just wander aimlessly for so long… Are you feeling more comfortable with the diagnosis?

    • CimmerianInk says:

      I am more comfortable, at least from time to time. And I know that you are correct about my lucking out in the psychiatrist department. As you said a lot of people go for so long without any help or knowing what’s going on and it’s terrible.

  2. pistolpete says:

    A powerful story. Thanks for sharing it.

  3. castorgirl says:

    A very smart psychiatrist indeed 🙂

    I’m glad you have that support around you… it’s crucial to have competent healing partners in this journey.

    Strangely enough, 8 is a pivotal age for me too. I wonder if it’s related to an environmental factor, or because that is the upper age when your identity has usually formed in a cohesive way?

    Thank you for sharing this much of your story…

    Take care,
    CG

    • CimmerianInk says:

      That’s really interesting to me that 8 is important to you too. I have the same questions about that as you do. Obviously don’t answer this if it’s too difficult, and I don’t need specifics, my questions is pretty vague: With the 8 thing, did something specific happen at that age or is it just an age that’s pivotal for some reason that’s unknown to you? The reason I’m asking is because I was already being abused before I turned 8 (it got worse after 8) but my point is, that for me, that’s not the age when I can pinpoint “Oh, that’s when the abuse started“. But for some reason 8 is a really significant number, but I don’t associate it with any particular event. I just wondered if it’s the same for you? If something specific did happen to you I truly don’t want to trigger anything, so you absolutely do not have to answer this question.

      • castorgirl says:

        Hi CI,

        As far as I’m aware, the more physical aspect of the abuse started when I was 3 (nearly 4), so it’s not that. There was a particularly bad event when I was 8, and two parts were created at that time. These two were the main influences in my life for many many years. I have fairly good communication with them, so this is probably why that age is significant for me. I have more memories after 8 because they are associated with these two parts. I have little or no communication with any of the parts younger than these two… or awareness really.

        I know I have quite a few parts who are aged between 5 and 7. But there is almost no contact with them. If they do present in therapy, they either don’t speak or are too traumatised to speak coherently.

        I don’t know if that helps.

        Take care,
        CG

      • CimmerianInk says:

        It did help CG, thank you for being so willing to talk. Take care of yourself as well please 🙂

  4. Pingback: Manic Monday 2010 II « Necessary Therapy

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