Mindfulness for Trauma

Yesterday I was fortunate to see an article posted on Facebook regarding mindfulness. What really caught my attention was the last sentence: "What makes life so frightening is that we let ourselves be carried away in the garbage of our whirling minds. We don't have to do that."

In my life as a therapist I had learned and taught mindfulness. I still practice it to some extent by listening to guided imagery to help my body relax to fall asleep. But I’d never seen mindfulness explained so succinctly. I now understand how to use it to get myself out of my head when it is circling with unpleasant memories, the aftermath of nightmares, or, most recently, a barrage of suicidal thoughts.

Without realizing I was practicing mindfulness, one morning after being discharged from the trauma center, I awoke from a horrid nightmare/memory. I can see in retrospect I engaged every one of my senses to keep me out of my head. I turned on my aromatherapy to have the aroma of fresh cotton and have a pleasant and different smell; I grabbed the rosary-like grounding beads I’d made at the Center to have a tactile distraction; I turned on my favorite music to provide soothing sound, and I placed a heated lavender spa pad over my eyes for soothing warmth. It took me nearly three hours to shake the nightmare but it worked.

I had forgotten about the full benefits of mindfulness and hadn’t thought about how it might be used to get me out of my head filled with suicidal images and only tended to make me tense and frightened. The other aspect of mindfulness that I apparently hadn’t grasped initially but hit me between the eyes yesterday was that I was keeping myself stuck by wanting to be the person I was in 2005…happy and healthy. My reality is my body has undergone surgeries and trauma in the past four years that likely will not allow it to be ever be quite the same. Mindfulness is being in the present…not the past or future.

For me, it meant accepting me and my body for where it is today and moving on from now. Wishing for a point in the past is fruitless, frustrating, and stressful. Wishing for me to be healed when I’m not is also not productive. But I can start from today and move in the direction of acknowledging where I am today in terms of mind and body pain to finding ways to move forward as well as handling the days with what is going on NOW.

This morning, in trying to focus on my breathing to get out of my head and the nightmares, I found myself back up in my head. This is why it Is called the practice of mindfulness. As the article states, it takes practice. When focusing on just my breath didn’t work, I turned on music and focused on listening to every word and musical instrument while keeping my hand(s) on the grounding beads. I also had heat on the areas of the body experiencing pain. It is now an hour later and I am up writing this blog post.

We trauma survivors get stuck in our heads a lot and many of us do suffer from chronic pain. Mindfulness is one coping tool. I also use Belleruth Naparstek’s guided imagery for depression, alleviating pain, and IBS. Her voice is so easy to listen to and, for me, she works. Sometimes curling up with a soft stuffie, crying, and listening to sad music is also being in the moment with my feelings. We don’t have to distract from them. Suicidality is one we definitely don’t want to “be in”, but experiencing unpleasant emotions is healthy when done safely. The key is being mindful of how we choose to experience our own pain.

Most in my group on Polyvore use art to get stuck images out of the head. Some might view that as focusing on the thoughts; however the focus is actually on the art: what elements to use to create the set, the colors, the effects, which images best represent the feeling. It is a healthy distraction and release at the same time.

Into the Wind by grace2244 (kinda here) on Polyvore.com

Having read the article yesterday and having an “aha” moment, I do feel unstuck from 2005 and have moved my mind to where I am right now with my concussion and body pain from the fall along with frequent suicidal thoughts. And I’m DID. lol. Could there possibly be more? Am sure those reading this do have more. Likely we all feel we are at our maximum tolerance level. Even more reason to find that which helps us cope and live our lives as best we can with what we have day by day. Is it okay to dream? Yes. It’s the wishing we were already there that gets us stuck in a place away from where we need to be…in the moment.

Monarchs, Milkweed, and Pixie Dust

More Tinkerbelle Programming

Warning to programmed survivors with mind control programming.

I woke up this morning with an answer: “pixie dust” is milkweed”. I ran to the computer and googled milkweed. Germaine facts to me and my system: it is the sole source of food for Monarch butterflies; it is used for medicinal purposes but can also contain a toxin called cardenolides which is a compound that can stop the heart; the seeds are pods which, when open, contain a fluffy white silky substance that is considered a parachute seed because of the way it floats in the wind.

How this translates to my programming

My recent Polyvore sets show Tinkerbelle regenerating…she keeps creating another self as one of her heals. However, her “pixie dust” also spread seeds to grow milkweed inside. In other words, these are the words that go with my inner world. Basically, I was designed to regenerate my system if I got to this place of healing and the self-destruct had been overcome.

After having all this information come to me and creating a set about it, I had some quiet time before leaving for my therapy appointment. I learned from inside that any alter who was shrouded in a milkweed pod was rescued and all milkweed seeds prior to creating a new alter had been made dormant.

Because of the work done at The Center through hypnotherapy, Spencer was able to take the Delgado part of the system into his control. The Delgado introject is contained. Am sure his external death will bring about an internal incident that will result in ultimately healing that part of me.

I believe the secret of the milkweed came from the last Tinkerbelle to surface…the one shown in the Polyvore set from last night:

 

I could go back to sets from the beginning to see that this had been a major part of my programming:

This set was probably done in early 2009 and was named Monarch and Milkweeds! One of yesterday’s sets is typical of what I now see when I return to the Tinkerbelle sets. In the one image of her in the fetal position in white, she appears as what would be inside a milkweed pod:

 

My sets of last night had me frightened of driving this morning so I had arranged for my partner to take me to therapy. I was relieved to learn it was because I was so triggered from getting answers that I wouldn’t have been able to drive safely….as opposed to Tinkerbelle planning to take over and cause me to be in a car accident. Even good answers about programming come from a trauma “bubble” which creates much anxiety.

My session today focused on garnering the resources within me to honor the healing and to thank Tinkerbelle for choosing to heal and stop the madness of the regenerating pods. Sounds like a science fiction plot.

My particular program was/is referred to as Monarch programming, but I’ve shared before that I do not think it was the official name of the government program. Clearly Monarch butterflies and their habits were predominant characteristics of alters; i.e., “returning home”. The milkweed was a surprise. Hope I can take a big whoosh now and focus on mending the body rather than on what is being plotted in my subconscious against me.

Tinkerbelle Programming

As a child programmed according to government design/blueprint/neuorophysics or whatever was done, what I found is likely to be in other survivors. So please use caution when reading if you are a survivor. My programming may not be the same but I prefer to place a warning. I did have many Disney characters within but I called them "fractured fairytales", a term from The Rocky & Bullwinkle Show. Internal stories were intentionally confusing.

While Mickey Mouse was not a story, he was made to be a primary character/essence within me. Initially seeing Mickey Mouse was benign. The programming that led me to seek safety at a facility included Mickey Mouse as the master demon inside me. I'm actually grateful for not having the terror along the road of healing. I will never know if that was the doing of my protector or simply how my healing path arose.

Tinkerbelle had appeared early in healing as a helpful part. I first recall her volunteering to find hidden gyroscopes inside to help stop a major spinning program which made me feel dizzy and nauseous non-stop. After her help, the program slowed down and came to a halt within a day or two. The next time Tinkerbelle came up, she came up with other alters named after characters from Peter Pan. I had thought Peter Pan was the devil placed within me. I also had tremendous confusion about my sisters. Tinkerbelle seemed to "go with" my younger sister but then I would immediately get a conflicting message about my older sister. I did guided imagery to send the parts back to whom they belonged. I realize now no one ever left...it was more of a containment exercise to tuck those alters safely away until I could deal with the programming.

It didn't dawn on me that I might have several Tinkerbelles. Through Polyvore processing my first year, I figured out the very confusing Alice in Wonderland crap we mind control survivors all seem to have. My Alice turned out to be the fusion of Dorothy from Oz, Alice of Wonderland, Tink, and Belle (four alters). I thought all was healed with that integration.

But the programming that led me to the hospital for safety was older and younger sister trauma bonding. The younger sister was connected to Tinkerbelle all along and I believe it was another version of Tink that flew up into my neck at The Center.

This past week I had a session with my therapist explaining something was still in the back of my neck and I kept having disturbing images of knives and pills. My Polyvore sets showed me there was a second Tinkerbelle hidden behind the programming. If the programming were to be dismantled, she simply had the "job" of killing the body. She wasn't a program but she was very strong willed.

I felt sorry for my therapist. Tink "flew" out with an angry voice telling her "I hate you". I was listening from the background. She had been kept hidden deep inside and only knew a world of lies to include that love was pain and pain was love. My therapist countered all the lies and invited her to peek into the world inside where all the others had healed...a world she had been told was dangerous and filled with lies. But she did let that wall down and chose to cross over to the healing side.

Once in Spencer's world, there was no going back but she was asked to consider her options before fleeing. My head actually felt and moved as if an entity were flying around like a moth trapped in a jar. She has settled down and shown me through Polyvore how there were many Tinkerbelles in the system. While I've still had the occasional image of my own demise, I think it is due to her lack of tolerance of the head pain of my current concussion. Now that she knows pain is not love, she despises pain and I have thoughts of not being able to live with the pain. So I guess I can't blame her. I'll have to believe it will get better in 3 to 4 weeks.

Last night I either was lucid dreaming or thinking and fell asleep but distinctly recalled the name of a television show. I couldn't remember this morning so Googled television shows of the 80s and then the 90s and found Picket Fences. Tink was telling me her prison was picket fences. I love the set she did this morning because Dr. Doyle at the center had used stars as a symbol of hope for me when I was depressed. I hope this means she is now safe to the body and choosing to heal.

I wish I'd had the opportunity to truly love my sisters. I see how the programming was designed for us never to be close. But I can develop a close and loving internal relationship.

Getting to Internal Safety–Aftermath of Abuser Death

I received news of my abuser father’s death on 2/10 and overdosed on 3/13 (see previous blog post). After being discharged from the hospital on 3/15 I began to do art therapy on Polyvore. It showed me that first failed attempt was tied to a series of alters, each a back up for the other…and each with a different method of demise. I hadn’t fought the alter who took the pills. I was co-conscious with her. But the methods tied to the others in the series terrified me. At the end of the three or four other alter attempts was what felt inside to be the introject of Jose Delgado. I felt and believed it could kill me internally without any help from the outside. He was also ready, willing, and able to follow through. My therapist and I both began to make calls to The Center.

While the death programming was triggered by the father’s death, I had been struggling with increased depression for approximately six months. I had tried several adjunct antidepressants along with my Cymbalta until I intuited I needed to back down from the maximum dose of Cymbalta instead of trying to add more meds onto it. I had backed off from 120 mg per day to 90. My therapist shared just prior to my admission she had read research that SSRIs usually wore off after a year or two although they worked very well in the beginning. She reminded me to point that out to the psychiatrist on staff at The Center. Had I not been so depressed when the news of my father began to have aftershocks, perhaps I would have had more strength to fight the programming and dismantle it with the help of my therapist. I also realized my older sister’s birthday had been just a few days before the overdose and I had several introjects of her tied to the programming. So many variables for this storm inside me.
I was able to meet with the psychiatrist the day of admission and together we decided to wean off the Cymbalta and try Pristiq, a similar antidepressant that was normally tolerated well by those on Cymbalta. It was the only meds change suggested…another relief.

My time on the internet was greatly limited and art therapy had been my primary mode of healing from the beginning. Polyvore completely replaced my magazine collages so I was frustrated that tool was basically removed from my healing arsenal. Likely due to the programming, I didn’t get to a place where I felt I could focus on the internal work until the day of my second individual counseling session a week later. Friday was mostly meetings with the people I’d be working with and the weekend was very long and terrifying for me feeling like a ticking bomb.

I had just begun a group on Friday morning where Dr. Glenn Doyle was the facilitator. I felt good energy emanating from him, liked his way of interacting with the group, and knew I wanted him as my individual therapist. Less than five minutes into that group I had been called out but was so grateful to feel that connection. I told everyone I could that I wanted Dr. Doyle as my individual counselor. Someone was able to check and saw I had been assigned to him which did help somewhat.

Over the weekend, one patient was discharged but not before we realized the night before that we were friends from Polyvore and immediately hugged. She adored Dr. Doyle and assured me he knew of mind control, SRA, and programming and it was okay to speak of it. We shared for a few hours before it was bedtime and had a chance to speak in the morning before her discharge. She gave me some questions Dr. Doyle had given her for homework which helped keep me busy until I saw him on Monday. A most serendipitous meeting but wishing we had figured out our connection two days earlier.

Dr. Doyle does hypnotherapy and for the first time in my conscious life, I went to a level where I was “gone” for about 20 minutes of the session. Apparently he just spoke to parts generally to let them know his voice and allow the healed ones to know he was safe. That was Monday. On Tuesday, Dr. Doyle ran at least one of the groups and the Delgado part hated him. As soon as he came into the room I felt movement inside me that felt like kicking or a child’s hand punching. Dr. D paused in the group and said some words to the part and the internal punching stopped.



During my second meeting with Dr. D on Wednesday, I again was gone for 20 minutes. When I woke up, his face appeared as if he had just seen a ghost. I said something to him like “that part can kick my butt, can’t it?” He nodded and said we would work slowly. Fortunately, in the evenings I had just enough time to do one or two Polyvore sets and would email them to him. My set that night was frightening.

I only had individual counseling Monday and Wednesday but Dr. D ran two groups on Friday. I began biting my tongue every time I tried to speak, and it hurt. Before he left on Friday evening he was very kind to do a quick hypnosis to extinguish the tongue biting. I didn’t want that to be happening all weekend.

For our third session, I was consciously connected to Dr. D’s voice the entire time (I think). He asked me what I thought he should focus on. I told him my protector Spencer knew “the plan” and needed Dr. D to work with me while Spencer did his part. But I didn’t know the plan. I heard Dr. D asking for Spencer and about the plan but all I felt was huge resistance so he worked with the resistance instead. Five hours later, I was on Polyvore and Spencer showed me what was behind the big scary “curtain” of Delgado. It was two sister introjects bound together in chains. The younger sister part was still loyal to Delgado and ready to follow through with the programming. The older sister part showed she was not wanting to die and a chain between the sisters was shown to be broken. When I went to bed, Spencer said the sisters had blocked his voice and he needed Dr. D to break the programming because they could hear him. Dr. Doyle got his answer but I had to wait two more days to see Dr. D again. I feared knowing the sisters were behind the scary Delgado façade made it even more likely the programming would go off and kill me with an aneurysm or something else connected to the brain.



Wednesday morning I learned Dr. D would not be coming in and I had no idea if I would see him on Thursday or if he would just do his normal Thursday schedule. I was panicked. During early afternoon group, the facilitator entered and used the words I had collaged previously that I knew were part of the code phrase to trigger the programming. It went off. I immediately felt something “fly” up into the back of my neck by my brain. I truly felt I was going to die any second. The facilitator was not understanding my attempts to get her attention for help so I left the group and went to the nurse’s station. One of the very kind nurses saw how freaked out I was and sat in “the quiet room” with me to help me calm down. She then asked if I was okay to be alone and the part who had taken over answered yes. While alone I began to scratch at my wrist with my nails. I was an observer in the background.

Scratching was something my younger sister did in real life. She was very aggressive and would attack me and older sister with kicking, biting, hair pulling, and scratching. I realized the program went off but only the younger sister part followed through. She was powerless to cause death. I was relieved to know it was not as powerful but I still needed Dr. D’s help to eradicate the program and set the sisters free from the trauma bond to Delgado.

I had the willpower to take sufficient control to walk to the nurse’s station and ask for help to stop scratching my arm. Dr. Doyle saw me first thing when he came in mid-day Thursday and successfully undid the program and anything else that may have been placed in me for harm purposes. It was the first time I felt safe inside my own body since 3/13. I knew I was technically safe to discharge but believed two other issues caused my constant passive death thoughts. I asked if I could stay to see him a few more times before discharge to ensure I was stabilized. That did happen and I have my first session with my own therapist since discharge on 4/13 next week. I wanted Dr. D to do what he felt would be most helpful for my therapist to continue her work with me on my last day.

I entered The Center knowing exactly what programming needed to be undone and I knew that would be in individual counseling. The main focus of The Center, however, is group work which probably is very effective for those without the sophisticated programming found in some SRA realms and the government related programs. However, I did learn and benefited from attending the groups as well.

What I most want to say is the death of a parent abuser is unexpected and traumatic even if we are thinking (as I was) that there would just be relief and possibly celebration. Nearly half of the patient community had recently had an abusive parent die. Even though I had been a therapist, I was unaware of this backlash. I knew that often memories did not surface until an abusive parent or both parents died. But I really thought I had worked through all the father issues. I urge you to have a safety plan if you are a survivor and still have a living parent who was an abuser. You will likely need minimally stronger support from your therapist to get through that time and more self care and nurturing.

This is a long post but wanted to tie it all together in one place. I did have some separation anxiety leaving The Center after three weeks. Coming home was not the smooth joyful transition I expected. I needed adjustment time. I returned home Wednesday evening and had nurturing activities planned for Thursday and Friday. That helped immensely. And even though I successfully transitioned from Cymbalta to my target dosage of Pristiq, I may not feel the impact for a month or longer. I am still depressed and have to be mindful of thinking logically versus depression thinking. In a sense, coming home was like returning to the scene of the crime. Much reflection and sadness.

We need more Dr. Glenn Doyles in the world. I am so grateful my therapist knew of The Center and that Dr. Doyle understood mind control and programming for the help I needed. The psychiatrist I first met with that day of admission and Friday went on vacation and her replacement was wonderful. Again, this world is so lacking in psychiatrists who understand dissociation let alone who are wonderful people willing to work with their patients for the best medication regime.

Several patients were back for repeat visits because of additional crises. I never anticipated acting on suicidal ideation let alone feeling I would need to be in a safe facility to keep parts of me from acting on their programming. The FMSF created such fear by therapists to treat dissociative disorders that only a few good places remain available in the country for the help I needed. I pray one day reason will prevail over fear and centers will open again and insurance companies will not deny such critical care.

Thank you to The Center staff who got me through this terrifying episode in my healing and to all who supported me while I was there.

Help for Someone with a Dissociative Disorder

As a therapist, I had several occasions where clients needed hospitalization to stabilize from their dissociative disorder. Struggling with flashbacks, memories, denial, backlash from family, etc. can just be too overwhelming. Mostly, in my experience, this additional help is mostly needed in early healing until coping skills are strong enough for the survivor to help themselves through difficult times…along with their therapist.

I worked in a state that had no specialized facilities for treating dissociative disorders approved by the leaders in treating dissociation. The closest one was Sheppard Pratt in Maryland. Some insurances would approve a stay; others would not. When approved, the facility almost always had a waiting list. My suicidal clients sometimes had to hold on for several weeks trying to stay safe until finally admitted. Some attempted suicide and were hospitalized in a psychiatric ward where dissociation was not acknowledged. At least they were safe until a bed became available and were transferred to Sheppard Pratt. A very sad situation.

I have probably stated that in my 14 plus years of healing, I never required hospitalization. I never acted on suicidal ideation. I struggled dearly with overwhelming desires, but managed to get through each time. That is, until last Sunday. Having programming triggered by news of my father’s death, as soon as the suicidal alter stepped in, she had a plan and flew into action. If not for BB’s suspicion mid-pill taking, I might have made it to the coma objective and counted on my DNR.

I’ve now had a week to process all that happened in retrospect which I disclosed in a previous post. Sadie appears to have healed but was connected to several other female SI alters…probably each a back up for the next. I Polyvored for hours to get the answers I needed. Simultaneously, I’ve been trying to get into a hospital highly recommended for treatment of dissociative disorders. My level of depression is still at suicidal level. BB has hidden all pills and knives. Initially I thought I would be admitted Wednesday…which moved to the end of the week…which moved most likely to the beginning of next week. I fully understand the impact this waiting had on my clients. I see the impact it has on me.

Regardless of programming, I know the facility will have coping skills for working with perpetrator introjects. In addition, after seeing my therapist today, she had an aha moment realizing it was me…my most integrated self, with the very deep depression as opposed to an alter. She described SI programming coming up when the host is so depressed as the perfect storm. It’s what I experienced last week. At her suggestion, I created an internal safe room for unsafe alters. I have felt somewhat less fearful of something “going off” until I’m hospitalized. That coping skill is called containment. I’m glad it worked for me.

So a large part of my treatment will also be evaluating my level of depression and perhaps switching some meds around. I am grateful for that. It is also a small 12-bed facility so I know attention will be high. It’s worth holding on to get in. My therapist has been amazing. She is meeting with me again tomorrow. Earlier today I saw my chiropractor. It was right after I got off the phone with the hospital about the further delay and I was in tears. He learned I was waiting and insisted I come each day to see him at no charge to make sure the muscles at the back of my neck are kept relaxed to help me not get too wired. I have a good support system.

Even knowing how much others in my life care, the depression thinking is that it would be easier for everyone if I were no longer here. No one would have to worry about me anymore. I will be okay. I have an appointment for something each day through Friday. I don’t like feeling such a lack of confidence in my ability to handle THIS. I knew before now that I could handle and heal anything that came my way. I suppose many wonder why I share so much. This is my journey. I hope sharing my journey…even this part…will help someone else one day. Thanks for all my friends and family who have supported me through this time.

48 Hours

Forty eight hours ago I was in the emergency room having taken an overdose of drugs. Guess I was fortunate BB figured something was up before I finished the bottle of Klonipin (90 tables). I had managed to take a handful (10-15) of Oxycodone and three handfuls of Klonopin before running out of water. I was upstairs and BB was downstairs. I had strategically asked him to make a chocolate martini…a rare request. I went down to the kitchen to fill my water thermos. Nothing unusual about that. Got back upstairs, started a bath, put the thermos by the tub and hid the rest of the Klonipin in the towel basket before BB came back up. I was even already relaxed in the tub.

I chugged the martini wanting the pills to kick in quickly. But *I* had carried over a small sharp pair of scissors to the tub as well. That’s what BB questioned. Not a normal item. A part of me I call “the tattletale” told him about the pills. BB called 911 and suggested I put clothes on before the ambulance arrived. They were there in less than five minutes and already I was too drowsy to barely move. Managed to pull on sweat pants and a t-shirt and flop on the bed. The rest was a daze. From the ER I was sent to an inpatient hospital ward. It was where I had served my therapist internship and the “d” word (dissociation) was forbidden. I slept through most of that first day although did speak to a caseworker, and doctor, and a psychiatrist. I did know I needed to be in a safe place. I was very emotional about waking up alive in the morning and it showed.

I know longer felt actively suicidal but had been really shaken about the night before. I did share that tearfully that I was so tired of struggling every day with my healing journey. Mostly the rest of the day I was fuzzyheaded but I kept thinking about something I said to the psychiatrist. In describing what had taken place, I told her “it happened so fast” (taking the pills)…”it was just so fast”. That was not “me” and as the day went on and my head cleared a bit more I was able to clearly see what had happened. I still don’t understand why I didn’t see the signs unless Sadie was preventing that too.

I wrote about Sadie before. She’s an alter I found early on. I knew she went with death. Because she surfaced since my father’s death and I’d been feeling overwhelmingly suicidal since her emergence, I tried working with her internally as well as doing several Polyvore sets. She looked so sad and desolate. I did one set of her alone where several comments said she seemed like she had something very important she had to say. But I did think she was healing.

My therapist was out of town but I wrote her several emails and sent her several Polyvore sets expressing how suicidal I was feeling. It was two weeks before my next appointment but I did ask her if she had something sooner. I even had thought of calling my psychiatrist but it was Sunday when it got so bad and I knew he wasn’t available.Oddly I received a call from the therapist that Sunday offering me an appointment the next day which I readily took.

The retrospective of the event is I had gone upstairs about 7 p.m. for my evening nap but couldn’t relax or sleep. My mind was circling with one though: I want to die. I called BB upstairs to tell him. Guess what I should have said was “I don’t feel safe. Please don’t leave me alone”. Instead I just told him the message in my head. So when I asked him to fix me a drink, that was Sadie’s break. The term I use is “sneaky dissociation”. It felt like me…my thoughts…my actions. But that isn’t how I behave. Sadie snuck into my consciousness without my feeling her although I got up from the unrestful nap feeling shaky and agitated.

The time I was awake at the psych ward, I was still feeling residual agitation. And then reflecting on my words to the psychiatrist that it happened so fast like it had to be done right then. Then came the thought of making the therapy appointment the next day. Sadie must have felt suddenly pressured to act on her impulses since she knew my therapist would focus on her and try to talk her out of her programmed missed to self destruct. After figuring that sequence of events out, I called Wendy. I had missed her Monday appointment but still had my appointment for next week. She asked me about safety if I went back home. I called Brian and asked him to find all my drug stashes and regular supplies of dangerous drugs and hide them and just hand me my daily cup of meds. Wendy had liked that idea.

This morning I woke up happy and giggling with my roommate whom I had befriended. The psychiatrist poked her head in the room while I was giggling. It was time for my progress meeting. I did feel free of Sadie and no thoughts of self harm whatsoever. That came out in the meeting. I was surprised to see about three other people who were social workers and reviewers. I had taken the chance of explaining to the psychiatrist that I had DID and the self harm came from an alter…that was the first day. I feared she chalked me up to permanently crazy knowing in 2003, when I interned there, the word dissociation was not allowed. I was really nervous about thie meeting I found myself in.

Surprisingly, to me, the psychiatrist seemed to understand about Sadie and had even remembered her name. She noted my mood today and asked if I were to be released today, what my safety plan would be. She liked all I told her. One of the social workers had said she would call my psychiatrist to move my appoint up a week if possible. Before that even happened, I was told I was being released today. Wow! Not what I expected going into the meeting. I was discharged about 5 pm and am now home writing this blog entry slightly longer than 48 hours since the overdose.

Lessons to be learned

While I had written several messages about feeling suicidal, I felt I was safe waiting for my therapy appointment. I took for granted that every suicidal alter in my system healed before her programming was carried out. I can never count on that again. The extreme struggling, the emails to my therapist, the desire to call my psychiatrist were all overlooked as warning signs. I didn’t know Sadie’s agenda.

I was extremely relieved that I could speak of my DID at the psych ward to the psychiatrist. She had some grasp of it but I knew she didn’t have the skills to work with Sadie. And I knew if a professional not very experienced in working with suicidal alters could be dangerous. I stated that first day how I believed it was essential I work with my own therapist of 10+ years. And I knew my psychiatrist was affiliated with the psych ward but unfortunately only on an outpatient basis. I may have buried myself by being open about the help I needed…to find and help Sade to heal. The first day the psychiatrist asked for my website which I provided: the knowdissociation.blogspot.com link. I recalled later that would like to the mind control struff and she might just have me on lithium the rest of my life. That morning I was admitted, I asked about the 72 hour release. I asked several time and no one responded. Finally that first night I insisted that I be provided with the form. I was threatened that if I signed the form it likely meant a legal hearing and an extended stay. I signed it anyway.

The psychiatrist mentioned she was aware of the three day form even though it had only been 24 hours. But the rest of the meeting went so well. Something must have struck a chord with her. I like to think that she saw I knew what I need to heal myself.

Sorry this turned out to be so long. I am going to write a note on Facebook on a related matter and will come back and post the link here.  I really want survivors to know you can’t let your guard down. You must ask for help in healing. You must accept support for healing. And, most of all, my death wish was so strong but went away in less than two days after Sadie knew she could no longer overdose. Please keep choosing life. I’m glad I’m here to say that.

Allergies and Mind Control

Because of recent events with my own health, I wanted to document my history and the known history of the government mind control programs. The programs began with Artichoke, followed by Bluebird, and then MK-Ultra, which I believe has changed names throughout the years.

A renowned expert in dissociation, Colin Ross, M.D., authored the book Bluebird: Deliberate Creation of Multiple Personality By Psychiatrists. You can Google him to find his citations of the universities, government sites, doctors and psychiatrists, and companies/individiuals/organizations complicit in MK-Ultra experiments.

Martin Orne was a notorious psychiatrist and “expert hypnotist” who demonstrated extreme extents to which unwitting people would go in a trance state. I ordered a video of one of his subjects and experiments through a psychiatric website. In horror I watched as a woman placed her hand in acid immediately after Orne demonstrated it was indeed extremely dangerous. The woman placed her hand in it after Orne, I believe, suggested It was simply a glass of water. She had no response to the burning effects and simply removed her hand from the glass when asked to do so by Orne. He also held up a huge snake that he had her do something with. I blocked that out. Couldn’t bear to watch. When I became a therapist, I shipped all of my mind control research and tapes to another survivor for safekeeping.

This information is to provide a background for the evil and the ways these government employed participants helped in creating the perfect mind control subjects from birth. In 1997 I came across the actual study done explaining how subjects were made to believe they had allergies to anything suggested to them. That was validation for my own “histamine programming” (my term).

I had at least one alter trained to produce histamines based on environmental and/or informational cues. Basically, if my mind was going near a forbidden topic, I would have an allergy attack. I have a very clear memory of my allergies having a sudden and dramatic onset in September 1969 when I was 16. The moon landing had been that July. I believe my POW memory was that summer. But something happened that summer. I just know I was home to watch the moon landing.

Am not certain it was the first day back to school but that first month back to school my face swelled up unknown to me on the bus trip to the school. A friend on the bus told me I should go to the nurse’s office but wouldn’t tell me why. As soon as I walked into the nurse’s office, she had me lie down and called my mother to take me to the doctor. When she left the office for a minute, I walked into the bathroom and saw my highly distorted swollen face. A panic attack ensued recalling my father had an allergic reaction when I was about 5 where his tongue had swelled in his mouth cutting off his air passage. My mother told me about that only when I was older. Thank goodness that was not the case with me.

That day began a decade-long regimen of allergy tests and allergy shots and constant sinus infections. When I was an adult continuing the allergy shot regimen, I began to realize the shots were causing the sinus infections. I went off the allergy shots and relied solely on nasal sprays and allergy medication. From that time until 1997 I came to dread early Spring and hay fever season. In the mid-90s, my then family doctor began steroid injections to help control the onslaught of sneezing and constant eye-watering. By the third year of steroid injections, I was begging for injections about once a month when they were supposed to last for three months.

One of my early memories in latter 1997 had to do with being suffocated by a pillow by my father. My connection to a memory with breathing issues had an amazing impact. "Magically" my allergy symptoms slowed down dramatically to the point where I had no Spring allergies and required no steroids whatsoever by hay fever season and haven’t since.

Since begging for more steroid in August 1997 and following first abuse memories in September of that year, I came to know an alter, Annie, who constantly sneezed when she emerged. That’s when I came to understand how histamine was used to distract the mind from memory to allergy symptoms. I had begun to use herbal remedies for some non-allergy related symptoms. Once I realized my brain had been trained to produce more histamines, I researched and found that Pycnogenal lowered the level of histamines in the brain as opposed to stopping the overproduction as antihistamines did. I just stopped taking the Pycnogenal recently since I haven’t had allergy issues in about 10 years. I’m guessing my brain is back to normal levels of histamine.

What I do still have are the sinus issues for which I just processed the Delgado memories of using a removable implant in my sinus cavities. Perhaps the artificially induced allergies were more to cover up the sinus issues since that was a major component of Delgado’s mind control methods.

I believe all of my body issues are connected to how my “autonomous” system was able to be internally controlled by alters. My sinus doctor declared me infection free at my last visit but I must use a special medication to help my body do what it cannot do for itself…move accumulation in my sinuses to the nose to exit the body. I’ve been doing guided imagery to imagine the cilia moving again suspecting it froze from trauma.

When I first went on the inhalant to help my sinuses, it was to be three times a day. It caused me to have bronchial spasms which led to my having to take codeine sulphate tablets to quiet the cough. After several tries I found I could take the inhalant once every other day. Now I’m wondering if the bronchial spasm is another conditioned response.

After my cranial sacral massage two weeks ago which opened up my sinus passages, I did cough but without the spasm. It was a normal cough. No traumatic response. Yet last night the bronchial spasm returned with a vengeance. My mind tells me I need to learn how to relax my vocal chords or whatever muscles control the throat. I will work on that.

Since age 16. It just makes me want to sit down on the floor with a blanket and cry. All those shots. All those horrid injections in my sinuses in the 70s  and 80s before there was a better way to treat infections. The sinus x-rays and CT scans. It all leads back to the devious mind control methods to keep me from remembering and apparently to ensure I would remain in a desired state of compliance. I like to think of myself as a rebel. I hope that rebelliousness helps me to keep fighting this crap.

Once again, everything is connected to everything.

What Happens When You Reach Clarity?

The following lyrics are the first verse from Out of Reach sung by Matthew Perryman Jones:

you're always bound to fall
there's nothin you can do
the weight of gravity begins
to pull you down again
so what are you to do now?
stuck between the hope and doubt
you get so close to clarity
makes you question everything

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/out_of_reach_lyrics_matthew_perryman_jones.html
All about Matthew Perryman+Jones: http://www.musictory.com/music/Matthew+Perryman+Jones

These lyrics touch me on such a deep level. Since the loosening of my integration in 2008, I've been on a journey to reclaim the clarity on the other side of the dissociative fog. I now see my world clearly again. Not that I don't have dissociative moments or some still loosely integrated alters, but I see.

I fully awoke to a world where Egypt was having an uprising, albeit for the better; Libya in turmoil, the political factions of the U.S. starkly divided; and a world where the government's goals of 1947 have basically been achieved. It is overwhelming. The concept of life without dissociation as a protective shield is overwhelming. The word "life" is not something familiar to me. My perspective of life is massive, encompassing the world and all going on within it. Clarity suddenly seemed like a nightmare rather than a goal.

A dear friend uses the world life when I use the words "healing journey". I know how to heal; I don't know how to live. She wrote me the best words of wisdom to embrace this new life of clarity. Everything goes back to baby steps. Small movements forward. Breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, doing what I can or doing what I simply want...including nothing. It's all living. I can do that. I can accept that. Rather than take in the whole world at once, I need to go back to filtering to what I can handle.

My take on the world is vastly different than someone without my past, particularly the government aspect. My own government. Clarity also brings the enormity of that covert program into my processing of world events. I realize my truth impacts very few people outside the scope of that abuse. We survivors of that era find each other and provide the support most of the rest of the world prefers to ignore out of ignorance, lack of time, or need to preserve the secrecy.

I'm 58 and only now am seeing the big picture of what happened to me...the goal of the program. But I'm alive and now I have to learn how to live. Am still lacking in complete brain connections but have never lacked critical thinking skills. I just haven't always had the clarity to see all of the issues.

I view myself as a mostly healed survivor of DID and fear my role as having been part of a covert program that hurt many. Difficult juggling of emotions. But I'm here. I'm mostly clear. And I hope my life continues with deeper healing and understanding. Mostly, I hope to learn to embrace this new clarity and allow the goodness of it to enhance the rest of my years.

When An Abuser Dies

I am certain every survivor will deal with this issue in their own unique way, hopefully with the help and support of friends and therapist. Those with "structured" or sophisticated DID almost always have multiple perpetrators throughout life. Although one child who developed DID from one abusive relative, may also have several abusers throughout life. Perpetrators have a knack for targeting the vulnerable.

When the main abuser(s) are still alive, depending on the level of contact the victim has maintained with them, they may not recall the abuse until after the death. Several times I have known people who did not begin remembering until the death of both parents.

My first memory was father abuse and later came the covert government and military ties along with abusers who were also the original scientists and government figures who were involved in MK-Ultra. I knew who most of my abusers/programmers were. They were the same. The doctors, scientists, and government people were also either pedophiles or knew that frequent sexual abuse maintained the dissociative process. At the time of my memories, several abusers were still alive.

Since they were all prominent, news of their death was often quite public. Most I had already recovered memories; but for at least two, more information surfaced after their death.

I used to think my father's job was "only" to maintain the level of terror and abuse at home when I was not with the program officials. I now believe he was a main player in that military intelligence/CIA/covert world. I received validation within the past two months. My father was an advisor to Vietnam in 1961 which was defined in a documentary as code for CIA before the full "war" broke out. Memories had surfaced of him being with me in settings with other programmers.

I have stated before I grew up in fear of him. After knowing of my DID and subsequent memories, I fully understand the depth of my terror for him. I have not lived near my family since the 70s and my last visit was around the mid-1990s. Earlier this week, I learned my father had passed away.

Initially I had relief that he could never terrorize or hurt me again. Throughout the day many emotions and thoughts surfaced...none of them grief. Part of me was just hoping I would not have to remember any other abuse involving him. It felt as if the news was just traveling through all parts of me and each was having their own reaction.

I had a doctor appointment early evening. After returning home and watching my favorite television shows, I decided to see the online obituary. I knew he had disowned me, but, as far as I knew, my mother and sisters still considered me a part of the family...just the crazy black sheep. However, the obituary did not mention me as one of the daughters. He did manage to get in the final blow. Am guessing if he disavowed knowledge of my existence, he was saying he took no responsibility for his actions.

The real impact came from what that meant to me for the future. Was I also dead to my mother and sisters? I don't have that answer. It's very unsettling. It took a day of emotional turmoil to realize nothing had changed. It still wasn't safe for me to be around my family even if they wanted me to be. So what difference did it really make?

While I would not wish healing from DID on anyone, especially now that my sisters are 55 and 60, in my heart I would like to have the validation while my mother is still alive that he was the person who hurt me beyond what most of the world can believe.

One thing is certain following an abuser's death: emotional turmoil. But we survivors know how to deal with emotional turmoil. We can get past it to get on with our healing toward a more complete and fulfilling life.

Surviving Intense Body Memories

This is my second month of body memories related to a specific abuser and the pain he caused in my head and sinuses doing his “programming” (work related to the  government program of which we were entrenched). Prior to the holidays I developed a sinus infection and was on antibiotics for 20 days followed by Cipro for 10 days. Thank goodness I have an appointment next week. Am hoping the infection is gone and the remaining headache, which feels like the top of my brain is pressing into my skull, is “only” body memory.

On January 1, at least two major parts of me integrated which brought on the post-integration headache I’ve been tolerating. But then more memories surfaced of the abuser, renowned for his work with brain implants, along with memories of a world-famous brain surgeon who died in the mid 70s. The abuse memory is from age 10 and/or prior. It is known both had worked together. My memory is of a removable implant through the sinus cavity which rests next to the brain in the forehead and at the lower back of the neck. It must have been extremely painful getting them into place. It also answers the question why I don’t have some microchip imbedded in me somewhere.

The first abuser is still alive and just last week I learned he relocated from his homeland of Spain to San Diego. My fear level has risen exponentially. If he is in the United States, you can be sure he is under government contract and San Diego is right next to a huge naval base. The primary backer of his MK-Ultra time period research was the Office of Naval Intelligence and likely that has not changed. Which validates for me that mind control techniques are still being used. Today, the watch a person is wearing or the cell phone assigned might have the needed receiver to trigger specific areas of the brain. It certainly makes me wonder each time the news screams of an individual “suddenly” going into a rage and killing innocent bystanders.

My head is pounding simply writing. I’ve had several massages. At home I completely wrap my head up in heat, including my face. I hate taking drugs so have only taken Advil but it doesn’t help much.

This started before knowing about his move. Did some part of me know that? Maybe I needed to know. I’ve been very vocal about my abuse and naming names. Perhaps it’s narcissistic to think “they” would want to get me back to him for re-torturing or some other horrible demise; but that is what is on my mind…weighing very heavily on my mind and hoping coping skills and continued healing of surfacing parts or fragments will eventually alleviate this pain.

I hate, that at birth…the planning before my birth, came with a life sentence of remembering what was done to me so parts stuck deep inside could eventually heal. Often I wonder if it will ever end and if I can really continue to cope with the intensity of emotions. Some days it really is just too much. Am grateful for microwaves and heated spa wraps to keep me sane.

Consciousness Explored

I just watched The Secret You, a free video online, that explores the nature of consciousness. For those with DID, it is possible you may find this too triggering to watch. At one point I know I would have been unable to watch. Today I found it fascinating.

Basically, consciousness is the integration of thought, and those of us with DID, did not have that integration. And in not having that integration of thought neurons, we did not have free will.

Some survivors know, and it has been proven, that the technology in the public realm now was known at least 20 years ago to the scientific underground. Knowing that, you can see in this film ways our programmers could have really messed with our brains and/or created certain types of alters.

I know virtually reality was used on me when I was younger which is an experience that feels real and could have been made traumatic. These new methods could just have easily been used for nefarious purposes.

Just another look at how we were likely "built".

Flow Chart of Sickening Truth

Playing Both Sides by grace2244 (forever behind) on Polyvore.com

WTF are introjects?

Introjects are confusing. It's confusing talking about them because it involves an alter/dissociative split that represents someone also known in the outside world.

Unfortunately, within the system (referring to all alters and any internal structures) there are typically several introjects especially those that represent prominent abusers. Currently I'm working with two sister introjects. They have different names inside. And scary things went with each of them.

The important concept to remember is that an introject is a split from the self holding onto the memories of that outside person. It is also a part of us that must be heard and heal like any other self.

Confusion comes in several ways. The introject "feels" like the real person...carries the same characteristics and persona. An introject is only holding such things for a specific person. Each alter/self was created for a specific role in the system. Those of us with sophisticated programmers might run into several programs designed to keep us away from discovering or even healing to the point of finding an introject. Mostly I experience headaches and dizziness.

I only had a small number of parts who freaked me out that I could only go near in a therapy session. Oddly, the most frightening ones turned out to be littles who were made to look and act terrifying.

When an introject reflects a known abuser and internally creates the terror inside that was also created outside, approaching the part is a thought that can create panic. I had to keep reminding myself that inside it is NOT that person...it is a part of me who needs to heal. And what a horrid job that part of me had...to recreate the terror that part knew him/herself. The introject is usually very relieved not to have that job anymore.

It took me ages to understand introjects. Reading about one and how to help someone heal an introject is different than dealing with one of my own. Only then did the "education" make any sense. In my case, that may also have been intentional confusion to keep me away from the word. I wasn't ever supposed to know of such things, or so the abusers hoped.

In any event, I hope sharing this might help another. As for my introjected sisters, after several weeks of doing sister sets on Polyvore, I've come to realize the sisters are merged with each other. I think that one sister representation is or has been integrating into me. I'm not sure if it's done. This is revolving around a Christmas memory in 1955 so I suspect that might be a present for me.

More Realizations--What Could Have Been

Since writing my earlier post, new information and puzzle pieces have been landing in my head. I'm on Facebook so some followers of the blog may have already read this in a Note. Last Friday I missed a dentist appointment in spite of having had it on a physical calender and my iphone with two back up reminders. About the time I was supposed to have gone to the dentist, I spontaneously decided to run to the drugstore. The first time I saw my phone that day was when I came out of the drugstore. It was after 4 pm and I saw the dentist had called.

I was horrified because the dentist was doing me a favor by fitting me in that day. The office was very nice and rescheduled me for Monday. On Monday early afternoon I realized my phone alarms had not gone off for my vitamins. The volume was fine but the SILENCE switch had been turned on. Brian said he hadn't done it and it's not something that can happen accidentally. That's when I said, "Someone really doesn't want to go to the dentist."

That night I was consciously powering my phone off and saw that the SILENCE switch had been turned on again (but my 10 p.m. alarm had sounded). That's my reference in the previous post that someone inside me was acting without my conscious knowledge.

In sharing what had happened with the Polyvore set, "In Transit", shown below, I got hit with another realization. My older sister  (internally named Lizzie) HATED going to the dentist. My mother always had to be sneaky about when Lizzie had the next appointment and tell her 10 minutes before. She was telling me who she was but I hadn't gotten the message without the answer that she was still "in transit".

Now for the scary part. The internalized sister parts of me, along with others, were programmed to take over consciousness and return to the fold, so to speak...whatever military base had last been the message or a certain address. The sister parts didn't surface until after I thought I had been fully integrated.

I don't know for certain whether other parts remain hidden deeply because they would have been too dangerous to surface before my current level of healing. I know that my protector would not have allowed anything dangerous to happen, but her having taken over my consciousness several times in the past week has been disconcerting. Better to miss a dentist appointment than return myself to hands that knew how to break me or worse. This was something that came up so many times in undoing my layers of programming. I wonder how many of us (from this type of programming) never get to fully heal because an alter turns themselves in or self-destructs.

A few years into my healing, several layers of programming had the message of going to visit my older sister (report back to the family). I'm so sad that she is part of that world and doesn't know it. Neither sister, to my knowledge, has awareness of our abuse.

I want to remember Lizzie as sitting on the floor of our bedroom when I was 4 or 5 and teaching me how to tie my shoes. Which brings to mind one more amazing aspect of DID. When I did internalize a person, their personality quirks (if known in conscious life) came with them, along with the original goodness they were meant to have. That Lizzie hated the dentist is just weird.

One more mystery that likely goes with Lizzie is my Thumper voice...a little who slurs words and mumbles. Except that voice sounds the same as my adult voice in my head. Only outsiders can hear the difference. Even as an adult, Lizzie tended to speak very softly and mumble. I used to stare at her mouth and wonder how she could speak when it seemed as if her lips weren't moving. Brian confirmed that I haven't always had the Thumper voice. It's something "fairly recent".

We're betting the Thumper voice will integrate with Lizzie. This is a big puzzle.

Answers Come in Mysterious Ways

One of the more frustrating aspects of healing from DID is waiting for an answer. For a multiple, we can ask inside for an answer. Sometimes an alter or protector will give a direct answer. Sometimes the answer is just another puzzle. Often there is silence.

Lately I've had parts of me emerge who represented my internalized sisters. I've also had noticeable activity by someone inside. Noticing one's own dissociated actions after the fact is always jarring to some extent. Last night when I went to bed, I asked inside of the two sisters had integrated with me. I fell asleep, which often happens when I try to get an answer.

This morning, as I often do, I go check out my sets on Polyvore and look at sets done by others. I also find new items to create my own art. This is the inexplicable synchronicity of my personal healing. I visited sets from someone I hadn't visited in ages. While there I found an item I liked which led me to several others. By the time I was done collecting interesting things, I had a set in mind.

I created a set knowing a Japanese person goes with my older sister. It was a really cool set, IMO, and wanted music to go with it. I searched "mannequin" hoping for a song about mannequins. Instead, an artist named Jack Mannequin came up. I did choose one of his songs but had used the name of one of his other songs for the set title, In Transit.

In Transit by grace2244 (forever behind) on Polyvore.com

Several hours after doing the set it dawned on me that the set was the answer to last night's question. The alter that goes with my older sister is still "in transit". Pretty cool stuff.

The fallacy of 1 in 100

The most used statistic in texts on dissociation or that include dissociation is 1 in 100 people could have it. A rare diagnosis. I can't address the entire population as to validity of 1 in 100 but in the realm of child abuse or adult survivors of child abuse, that number changes drastically. Here are some current statistics:

National child maltreatment estimates for Federal fiscal year (FFY) 2008 are based on child populations for the 50 States, the District of Columbia, and the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico. During FFY 2008:

An estimated 772,000 children were victims of maltreatment;

Nearly 33 percent (32.6%) of all victims of maltreatment were younger than 4 years old (figure 3–3).  An additional 23.6 percent were in the age group 4–7 years

Nearly 39 percent (38.3%) of victims were maltreated by their mother acting alone (figure 3–6). Approximately 18 percent (18.1%) of victims were maltreated by their father acting alone. Nearly 18 percent (17.9%) were maltreated by both parents.

Source: http://www.acf.hhs.gov/programs/cb/pubs/cm08/chapter3.htm#child

Children who become DID are usually the ones in homes where incest or any intense and consistent abuse begins prior to age 6, although some children have become DID as late as age 9. So all children in the above statistics maltreated by one or both parents equates to more than 50% of 772,000 children who could develop DID if the maltreatment is sufficiently traumatic.

Another source, National Child Abuse Statistics, cites: In 2007, approximately 5.8 million children were involved in an estimated 3.2 million child abuse reports and allegations.  90% of child sexual abuse victims know the perpetrator in some way;  68% are abused by family members. Average age of molestation was age 9.

Again, DID is directly related to the proportion of children whose consistent abuse begins at a pre-school age,  which means likely 30-40% of those children abused by family members (1 million out of 5.2 million) or roughly 19%.  Why 30-40%? The average age of molestation was 9 meaning half  (50%) of those children were under age 9. I chose a lesser amount to be on the conservative side.

It is easy to see that in the population of children raised in homes with abusive children have roughly a 19% chance of developing DID, much higher than the often believed 1 in 100. DID is a well kept secret of the underground and much aligned “disorder” by well funded organizations attempting to protect disclosure for their own agendas.

It's time see see the reality. Therapists working with survivors of child abuse are going to have much higher incidence of DID than that reported in their textbooks while earning their degrees.

October Surprise

Once again synchronicity has led me to an answer...a body memory mystery I recall having since my 20s. However, in my 20s, I was completely dissociative in that insiders were trained to keep me from noticing too much of anything.

I believe I've shared about my body memory of cigarette burns in my genital area which I've tried to resolve many times in therapy because of the pain. The burns came up first as a slightly sore bump and rapidly spread from bump into the form of many tiny bumps with fiery burning for 24-48 hours.

Several years ago I became aware that prior to cigarette burns appearing, my right groin and down into my right upper thigh become sore. If men are reading this, excuse the body references. Initially it would feel like undies were too tight and I'd tug at the elastic that hit the groin area on the right. Or I assumed my jeans were cutting into me. Possibly in my 30s but definitely by my 40s, I stopped wearing jeans believing they were causing the problem. Apparently I dissociated any blisters or burning.

After memories began in my mid-40s, I was very aware of the blisters but didn't connect them to cigarette burns until later in my healing. I came to know it as a short-lived painful time. I knew the burns were a part of very early abuse...something that would traumatize a baby who only knew sounds and sensations.

The burns have become quite infrequent. Am not recalling the last time but possibly once in the past year. Last night I was tugging at my undies thinking not all the detergent had washed out in the laundry (a common first thought). By bed time, I was commando and even my numbing cream for my painful surgery scars didn't work.

Back up to yesterday when I participated in a discussion on Copperstrings about communicating with body parts in pain or bothersome. Ask it would it would like to say. This was a very effective technique when I was a therapist. People would blurt out the most amazing answers where they suddenly understood what their specific pain related to. I don't recall ever having done that for myself. I have a part (wisdom of the body) who I've come to rely on to tell me. But this groin pain is such a mystery.

Logically I imagined the upper thigh and groin pain was someone who held my leg tightly while another burned with a cigarette likely repeating "messages" that would become part of the belief system they were building for me.

One more piece of the puzzle is my discovery of a butterfly shape seared into my labia. It was not a tattoo. It was branding with a branding iron. Possibly my left leg was immobilized while someone pulled my right leg roughly to the side wide enough to allow for the branding.

In conjunction with the groin pain that arose last night, my right jaw bone (joint?) has been very sore. Pressure to keep me silent during the branding?

This morning I woke up with a very wide area of my right inner thigh too sore to touch. Am sure the date plays a role because I have terrifying memory of my first Halloween. I would have been 11 months old. While placing special cream on the sore area earlier, I recalled what I wrote yesterday and asked my thigh what it wanted to say. "Get that iron away from me!"

The long sought after answer. At 11 months of age, that butterfly was made a part of my being. A symbol to others I was officially part of the government program. Perhaps the cigarette burns were reminders of that pain and additions to the message that I belonged to them.

So many puzzle pieces here. Many years of questions and painful days. Am praying this one time this traditionally precursor pain to the blisters is all I need to know. I have my answer to when and how that tattoo came to be placed on me.

Validation is a bitch.

21/111 Scraps by grace2244 on Polyvore.com

The Experts on DID have not had DID

When I first began to read about DID, rather voraciously, I read The Family Inside followed by Beyond Integration, both by the same authors. In other books I read, "integration" appeared to be the end of DID. The person becomes singular with one mind, one self. That may be the case with some. All victims with DID have had horrific childhoods. The variable is the intensity and consistency of the abuse once the child's mind fragments, in my perspective.

When I integrated in Nov 2002, I thought that was it. But it wasn't. It gave me a new stronger self to deal with the next level of healing...deeper trauma. The integration itself was a rather spectacular internal event. No doubt in my mind that is what had happened.

I was a year into grad school when the first integration happened which probably helped me absorb much more of my classes. (I graduated with a 4.0 gpa.) In November 2003, a month prior to my graduation, I experienced a second integration. I did feel stronger, more confident, ready to be a therapist and began that career full time in January 2004.

I had very few new issues and only saw my therapist once a month, mostly to process client issues I was not releasing as effectively as I needed to. I recall not being able to "go inside". I believed it was made necessary for me to stay "out" to keep me from returning to that place of dissociation inside. I had friends and a social life. I was happy.

I've discussed this before here and/or on Facebook, but also had a new insight into the events. In 2007 I encountered several scary body issues along with a female "specialist" who I believed was the best person at the time. She performed three surgeries on me, all of which caused harm to my body, although that was not known until after the third surgery and getting myself into the hands of highly qualified specialists.

After two more surgeries to fix the first surgeon's mistakes and to get me back to health and physical therapy which thankfully allowed me not to have a third corrective surgery, I was a physical and emotional mess. I realized in retrospect that my mind viewed the medical experience as trauma and placed "distance" between me and my feelings until much later. I had PTSD to the first surgeon's name (heard on radio and seen/heard on television and billboards).

That new trauma created several littles but also opened me up to old traumas that had newly surfaced. Work that needed to be done for ongoing healing but was okay to put on hold while I was a therapist. For nearly a year I had hoped I would return to work. Finally I realized I could not return because of the fragility of my own emotional state.

This blog which began as therapist me educating others about DID has now transitioned into knowledge learned becoming and being a therapist along with another phase of my healing journey from DID. For the past year or so, I've been going through what I knew was "fusion" from my insiders but I'm not done yet.

Some books on DID speak of a fusion process in addition to integration while other books use the terms interchangeably. On Facebook, I've been part of discussions by many with trauma backgrounds including DID. I need that again as one still healing. Those on the far side of healing (beyond integration?) believe it may be a lifelong process of always having some vestiges of the abuse. None of us really knows.

Even when I felt healed as a therapist, I could still hear my inner wisdom and sometimes protectors when I was in fearful situations. But all people have ego states...different states of being at different times. It felt normal to me. Now I know there are at least a few left who apparently are trying to merge so that *I* am part of the healed being.

Whatever you think might happen to be healed or whatever term you use for it I believe is individual. I don't think it's fair to label an ending when few have reached a point of having no more issues. Recently several readers of this blog expressed shock that I claimed to be integrated but was still dealing with DID. That is the case for me and the experts don't always know the answers, especially if they haven't been through it themselves. I can see where some may have claimed clients were healed after integration. Perhaps they didn't have a client who experienced a new trauma post integration.

This blog is my sharing so others can connect or not. My goal is only that some are helped by my knowledge and healing which goes along with struggling. I am not the competent trauma therapist at the moment. I could be a competent trainer of therapists who would like to work with dissociation. That would not engage the emotions as a client going through the same issues as me would. Part of being a good therapist is knowing my limitations.

Thanks to those who have been taking this journey with me.

Forever in the background by grace2244 (semi-absent) on Polyvore.com

Healing Body Work

Often I see or *hear* a cringe when I mention various work I've had over the years that I believe have been an integral part of my overall healing. One of my recommended resources is The Body Remembers which explains how the body stores trauma memories just as the mind does.

More and more somatic (body) therapies are being used to help heal trauma including PTSD in war veterans. I had the privilege of attending a workshop by Pat Ogden who is one of the leaders in the field.  She coaches the client to move the body (on their own) to release where the body feels locked or tight or sore.

Peter A. Levine's book Waking the Tiger addresses the need for humans to "shake off" (engage the body in releasing trauma) much the way animals do in the wild to survive.

Ogden and Levine's methods are client initiated and do not involve touching on the part of the therapist except possibly as a target or to provide resistance for pushing.

Where the greatest resistance seems to be is in massage...another person touching the body. I know through my own massage therapist there are techniques such an Indian Head Massage where the client is fully clothed and sits in a chair. It could be a gentle way to become familiar with the healing benefits of massage.

I don't know why I had no aversion to massage. I used to have some relaxation massage before known trauma. Perhaps that is why. Throughout healing, I've had Reiki, a bit of acupuncture, deep tissue work, hot stone massage, cranial sacral massage, and today I was introduced to a technique called cupping.

I learned of cranial sacral through another survivor in the late 90s. The masseuse must have special training. It sounds like it is only the head but it encompasses the whole body. Cranial sacral fluid flows throughout the body and the therapist feels for blockages and uses a light touch around those areas for release. I always felt better afterwards but it didn't have the feel of the deep tissue or hot rock which I like...a harder touch that feels like it's really getting to the tight muscles.

It's been a long time since I've had so many knots in my head and neck and upper back, which I thought related solely to my two week cold. Internally I sensed there might be tension and should have some work done. I just needed from shoulders up worked on but I love the warmed massage table. A masseuse will work with your comfort level so you just need to communicate where you are uncomfortable with touches and/or be able to ask the person to stop if something feels uncomfortable.

The cupping was a gentle suction sensation created by cups (adapted to area of body being worked on) attached to a machine. Very comfortable. It released tension through suction instead of compression.

You can also do your own body work to some extent, especially hand and foot massage. Those appendages carry nerves to every area of the body. So if you work out a hard knot between your toes, for example, it may well be alleviating a headache. Charts are online if you want to know what is what. I just tend to feel around and massage sore spots.

I also have a massager that can reach behind me to get behind my shoulders and slightly under shoulder blades where tension can hide for a long time. A Shiatsu pillow is my favorite for lower or mid back pain.

I encourage all the listen to their bodies. For those with DID, you probably know that alters can "live" in different parts of the body. I used to have parts sometimes heal as they were released from the knot they were in. If you haven't tried body work as a healing modality, maybe it's worth looking into.

My Depression Reality

Untitled by grace2244 (sorta quiet) on Polyvore.com

I was born depressed. Kids weren't seen as having depression in the 50s and 60s. But I had the "I wish I would die cuz I'm so tired" thought at least since high school. Some of this I've shared before but feel the need to write again now. As an adult, before I knew I had DID, I had tried numerous antidepressants, none of which I could tolerate. Post DID diagnosis I know my total was at least 20 antidepressants that weren't tolerable so I healed as far as grad school and into full-time therapist without antidepressants. I had been taking Klonipin to help me sleep for quite a few years and still am.

Early 2005 I came to realize how down I was when my friends kept asking if I was excited about my trip to Italy in May and realized I really wasn't. I wanted to be. Then in February I woke up one day in tears and couldn't stop crying. Emergency call to my therapist. I had to be able to work. I couldn't let depression stop me from my career. By then Cymbalta was on the market and made to address both depression and PTSD. It worked. The tears stopped the next day. By April I was genuinely happy and felt I no longer had the default "I want to die" message. Life was wonderful.

I'd been on only a very small dosage of Cymbalta that changed my life. And all was well until a year after all the pelvic surgeries and hospitalizations. My depression had increased beyond where I could function. Cymbalta was bumped to where it made a difference...30 mg to 120 mg (max dose). Was feeling better...not crying every day.

When my body issues had impacted so much of my being, I fell even further. Since then it has been a battle to find an adjunct happy pill. I was feeling better on Wellbutrin but developed a tremor from it. Am now working on another and it is just not making a difference.

I know all the coping skills for depression but I get to a "why bother" point and really just wish I'd magically die quietly overnight or magically no longer need a drug induced state of well being. This is long term effects of trauma. Every day of my life.

I had most of 2005 and 2006 as a happy person. Not just "not depressed" but at a level I never imagined because I'd never experienced it before. I want to be that person again for me and for BB. He doesn't deserve a lump for a partner. I have my sense of humor even when I'm depressed which is a sort of coping skill.

Recent efforts to be heard as an advocate in changing strategies to target pedophiles has also begun to feel futile. Do I still have a life if I'm not making a difference in the world? Not sure where that message comes from but it's been around for a long time too.

An expert on helping others with their depression and giving up on my own. There has to be a middle ground. Where's my Soylent Green peaceful death?

From Collage to Clarity

Bike Messenger by grace2244 (sorta quiet) on Polyvore.com

In many of my early handmade collages, I had images of people on bicycles with walkie talkies. Sometimes people on bicycles surrounded the alter in the collage. I never "got" it.

Possibly earlier in this blog, when I was still a full-time therapist, I posted about my bicycle experience. One of my RA/MC clients came with her own perps surrounding my office minutes before her appointment time. She would tell me about being followed and the man on the bicycle. Initially I believed it was paranoia which is justified for those with DID going to a therapist where they might tell the truth or discover their truth along with abuser identities.

One day I decided to meet her on the walk outside the office a few minutes before appointment time. The bicycle nearly ran me down and I came to know the vehicles that followed her. They were also there when she left and followed her route. I took pictures. Her bicycle man also became my bicycle stalker. Armed with cell phone (updated technology from when I was younger), this biker would manage to fly out of side streets just as I was rounding a corner on my way to work.

There were times when he flew across the road in front of me when I just went out for lunch or a spontaneous errand. They always knew where I was so it had to be a joint effort. When I tried to report harrassment by a man on a bicycle I became extremely aware of the police reaction. Just cycling by at "coincidental" times was not a crime. I was told macing the guy as he whizzed by was not allowed.

Fastforward several years when I am no longer a therapist and rarely go anywhere except to doctor appointments. It's been awhile but I was followed yesterday from near my home to the therapist's office (at least a 1/2 hour drive) by someone in a truck. But it began from the roads near my townhome with a bicycle person talking on his cell who did target my car.

I pretended to ignore all but it is nerve wracking. I've been more vocal online. It's a message they still monitor my activities. In spite of having made the decision to live my life in spite of them, it's a lot of emotional play to keep it together.

The reason for this sharing is that, throughout my pre-therapist life, I was never aware of being followed. Guess most of my surroundings were always foggy. But my alters saw and made it very clear in the collages. The abusers did it before cell phone technology and they are still doing it now. Because who is going to believe, in this day and age, a stalker would use a bicycle? It's because it's unbelievable and everything "they" do is intentionally unbelievable. They live in that invisible world.