I’ve been quiet for long periods of time between posting. It annoys me that I have nothing to write on several levels. On one level it means that nothing is progressing. On another level, I feel like I let my readers down if I don’t post.
Today I’m writing about putting into practice a couple of suggestions that some of you made in comments on my last post. I was talking about having an image in my head and being unable to find a picture of what I see because it mean going to adult websites, which I don’t want to do. Also, I was having trouble with internal communication and was therefore knee-deep in doubt that I even have DID.
The suggestions were about writing and drawing respectively and I tried them out.
For the image I saw, I Googled “male anatomy” and found non-adult, textbook drawings of what I needed and then I took out the crayons I had kept for any younger parts that wanted to color way back when, and I colored in what I saw in my head. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone looking at it what it is, but I know what I was trying to get across so I felt better about getting it out.
For the internal conversation I took one of my many notebooks that are kept for the purpose of writing about any mental health/abuse issues, and I just started talking to myself. It was along the lines of, “Hello, is anyone in there?” “Please talk to me.” and so on.
Later that day I had this epic moment which will sound silly to all of you but I only know how it felt in my head. You know how in movies there’s that moment when the clouds part and the angelic choir sings as someone has a brilliant idea? It was like that but without the fancy visual and sound effects.
It was simple but it was important, for me anyway. I very clearly remembered using my stuffed animals, a few ones in particular, to rub against as a child in a sexual manner.
Now, first let me acknowledge what you may be thinking. I know that psychologists and doctors say that children masturbating is a normal and healthy thing. I’m not talking about what they say. I’m talking about the awareness that I have about myself as a child and what I was doing in these memories. My awareness of myself and who I was as a child, the kind of person I was, tells me that my behavior was out of the norm for me.
I had lots and lots of time to be by myself when I was little, thanks to dear old mother, and I know what kind of kid I was.
I don’t think it was normal for me to be moving the way I was and seeking whatever I was seeking in that manner.
I tried very hard to hold onto what I was seeing and making sure it cemented in my mind so I didn’t lose the feelings that came with the memory like I have with other stuff in the past. This thinking also led me back to re-remembering (yes I made that word up), the way I would grind against doorknobs and possibly furniture. I remember the doorknobs for sure now. I was quite tall so I had better access than most kids would have as I got older. But it was like I had forgotten these things and then suddenly there they were.
I don’t want to be dramatic and add all sorts of meaning to what I remember. It seems to be the caveat that I have to add disclaimers to everything I see or feel but I never know when to take something seriously or brush it off. The tendency is to brush it off all the time.
Maybe I mis-titled my post. Maybe these aren’t little revelations after all. Maybe it’s nothing and I’m reading into it because I’m desperate not to believe I’m a liar.
Ah, I see the disclaimers have already begun.