Trust

I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist.

I just read a huge, long diatribe detailing human rights abuses, delusions, malpractices, and crimes of the Doctor in charge of the trauma program in the hospital from which I was just released. Why do I do this??? A portion of this article explained how DID doesn't exist and how a diagnosis of it will make a relatively healthy person sicker.

When I was 12 I wrote in my journal about the girl that lived in a room in my head, how I would become her, and how I would not remember things when I was her. I didn't know what DID was back then, I just thought I was insane or possessed. I was not under the care of a therapist at the time.

I don't care if I have a "System" for the rest of my life. I don't care if I process emotions differently than most people. I don't even care if I was abused as a child. I just want to not be depressed and get back to work and laugh sometimes. I just want to not have to fight for my life on a daily basis. If that means I have to have a system to deal with life that includes more than one me, than so be it.

I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist.

So before I can sabotage myself, I want to embrace the little girl inside. I want to let her live. I want to let her feelings trickle up through the layers so that I can be done with it - either shatter and become a psycho or heal - I don't care - I just want to be done with it. I can't live like this for the rest of my life. I just can't.

I'm desperate to move forward. I'm desperate to live. Even if moving forward and living means I have to risk a shattering, psychotic death.

I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist. I trust my therapist.