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Archive for August 7th, 2012

My friend was worried about me because I sounded so “off” on the phone that she came by unannounced, and I almost didn’t let her in. She has only done that once before, and that was when an alter part had been triggered, and my son called my friend because he didn’t know what to do about his mother shaking and crying asking him not to hurt her.

She came over on Tuesday with her 11-year-old son, and both of them were shocked by my appearance. They said I was not myself. My friend said that I even “looked different” – it was like I was not there. My body was, but I was not. I thought she stayed for about 10 minutes, but she says she was there an hour and that I talked the whole time. She said I looked better when she left – not good, but better.

When I picked up my son from tutoring, I told the tutor that I was upset about my son’s foot, and she said, “I can tell because you don’t look like yourself.” Again, not I did not SOUND like myself or ACT like myself but LOOK like myself.

I was “off” and “not me” all day. I felt defeated and anxious. I could not handle my life, and everything was out of control. I had reached a breaking point.

However, something snapped back into place that evening after dinner, and I felt better – not good, but better. I thought about the day and decided to celebrate the victories – I did not consider suicide. I had a fleeting thought of self-injury but quickly dismissed it. I did not binge eat. I did choose to eat a snack as a tool to help calm me down but not in a “stuff it down” kind of way. I had not been triggered that badly in a very long time, and I got through it without being self-destructive. In fact, I had taken steps of self-care, such as calling a friend and taking a day off work to get my head together.

The next day (Wednesday), I awoke tired from insomnia but otherwise in an OK place. I got through my work and was holding my own until my best friend called to check on me. That was when she told me about the day before (not looking like myself, etc.), and she made a well-meaning comment about overreaction to the foot being broken (she was very diplomatic). This triggered a less intense emotional reaction that I AM NOT OVERREACTING and that EVERYTHING IS OUT OF CONTROL.

As I drove to pick up my kid from camp, I decided to pray and ask what the f@#$ is going on with me. I said that I have no idea why I am this “crazy” right now, but G*d does know. Please reveal to me what’s going on with me so I can heal it.

Immediately, I “saw” my mother’s letter, and I had the sickening awareness in the pit of my stomach – she did this.

More tomorrow…

Photo credit: Hekatekris

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