A Question

Question:

There's no frakkin' title on my blog, yet in the "Design" tab I have a title and it shows it....why is this????

Attachment and Dissociation

Read an article this morning about attachment issues being the starting point of dissociation. This article discussed how a mom that is emotionally unavailable to her child can cause these attachment issues, and then active abuse knocks the child into the realm of dissociation. I thought of my mom, and how our joke is that "the mom is always the problem" and then I thought of me as a mom, and wondered about my own children. Then the wondering stops. I'm wearing a Spider Man band-aid today, as I cut my finger (not on purpose.) Luke got them for me, thinking I'd enjoy having more Spider Man. I think that's incredibly thoughtful and I love the band-aids and I love him. I marvel at his capacity to reach across the dark realms and connect with almost all parts of me. I don't think he is even aware that he does this. I have attached to him. I can trace this attachment from the drug-induced young lusty total capitulation we had in the first years to an anxiety-ridden on again/off again attachment we had for a number of years. Then there was a superficial attachment phase when the parts of me tested, tested, tested and "love" was experimented with through layers of protective parts. Something died, eventually, to leave the flame of my spirit exposed to his love, and the flame did not extinguish. I attached, as did all of us, with a rare trust. I never attached like this before, not to my mother or my father, not to anyone. I thought I was unable to do it. But I did.

I Like Drugs

I like drugs, all kinds of drugs. I like pot, acid, meth, alcohol, and 'shrooms. I have been sober for about 8 years now....but I still like drugs. And want to take them. But I guess I AM taking them, aren't I? I mean, I've been having a hell of a time lately, fighting with the parts that want to cut my arm off, fighting with the parts that want to blow my head off, fighting the ugly words that demean and shame me...so I up the dosage of my drugs. More seroquel, more ambien. Enough to quiet the emotional static that has been buzzing in my head, enough to make me stumble all over my words in school like a drunk stumbles on his own feet, hopefully not enough to give me tardive diskynesia.....or however the fuck you spell it. I like that I have this pharmaceutical solution to the chaotic disorder in my brain. But it makes me angry...why does it make me angry???

Incomprehensible

Got a present from a student today - it was beautiful - she drew a picture, colored it in, and framed it. So much thought was put into it and it was so carefully done. It was wrapped in newspaper, carefully and perfectly, with a string bow. It came with a little letter. I don't understand the duality of my life.

My Therapist, the Archaeologist

My therapist, god bless his soul, is digging like there is no tomorrow. He digs and and digs and holds these fucking artifacts up for me to see as we analyze them together..."When did this happen?" and "What did you do with your hands?" and the ever famous "How does this make you feel?" I know, it's his job, but we have been digging at sites I have long ago labeled DANGEROUS and left alone in, what I think, is well reasoned fear. Now, with the arm amputation compulsion plaguing me most of the time and vivid as any real event, the DANGER is really in not digging. We discussed how I replay a scene over and over and over and after viewing this scene I am awash in shame and disgust and physical sickness. He retold me what I told him, like it was a story, but maybe a story in which I am a character. He asked me if I thought it was accurate. I told him I both knew with certainty it was true, and also knew without doubt that it was not. That's the craziness of dissociation, and the danger.

Riding the Wave, anonymously

Pulled under, pulled out....like riding a wave....can't quite decide what all I should do. One of me is pretty active letting people know about the book. My public me is dying to let everyone know about the book, but won't, because it's anonymous for a reason. So the me that is on here, and on the fb page, and on all the DID pages is super excited and wants everyone to know all about EVERYTHING. But the public me is afraid, afraid, afraid. Check out the interview with Donna Williams, at any cost. And please - give me some advice on how public to be about my story...

http://blog.donnawilliams.net/

My book is available!!!!

You can order my book now!

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/in-and-out-of-iceglass-living-with-dissociative-identity-disorder-and-chemical-dependency/12937725?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/1

or just go to Lulu.com and do a search for "In and Out of Ice/Glass"