Saturday, September 30, 2017

I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID, formerly known as Multipl Personality Disorder and Autism

Boy, that's a long title. DID and Aspergers mix pretty well in that they produce similar characteristics. Both can lead to: isolation and inability to connect to others; low self-esteem and lack of eye contact; selective mutism or incidents in which one cannot speak; living within ones own unique world on the inside; difficulty making friends and forming intimate relationships; depression and high anxiety. It's a double-whammy on just about all fronts.
One of the things that I have to do is to separate my Aspergers symptoms, which are hard-wired and cannot be changed, from my DID symptoms which can be healed and transformed. It's a great deal of mental effort. I often find journaling, blogging and reading about both conditions in order to figure this out. It helps a great deal that I have an adult sin with Aspergers as I can look at his reactions and ways if thinking to more easily understand what my autistic issues are.
As an example, for most of my life (I'm about 54 years old) I thought that my low level depression was due to the years of abuse, my DID, until I witnessed depression in my teenage autistic son. It's odd but the more intelligent the Autistic, the more depression there is. It's like we are smart enough to see how great our deficits and struggles are. I'm guessing that I would be hard pressed to find someone with DID who doesn't struggle with depression on a regular basis.
These past few years as I've gotten older and a bit wiser, I can see that autism is a form of dissociation, in that it is one step removed from reality. DID is two or three steps back. Reality, being in the Now, isn't something I'm familiar with. I have to work or be completely engrossed in a subject or experience to be fully in the now.
Yeah, I guess you could say that I've never gotten over my childhood (no one can say that, in all honesty, as we are all living, breathing and repeating products of our childhood experiences good, bad or indifferent) as I carry around within my psyche pockets of repressed childhood memories, remembrances of various sadistic abuses that continue to be too overwhelming to bring out into the light.
It's time for me to start putting my...expertise in DID and Autism into words.
Follow me
Ask questions

Friday, September 29, 2017

I've done nothing wrong

There's just a bunch of really fucked up things that happened to me. I don't feel that I should be subjected to continue silence and censorship because it's so disturbing what kind of heinous, sadistic torture a parent perpetrated upon their own child.
I mean there's incest, physical abuse and this most depraved of crimes, torture. And I really mean torture. No one is willing or fucking able to hear about the times I was fucking tortured. It's part of who I am. A big cache of secrets I was forced into suppressing And I still have to Hide and Deny them!?!? Does not seem right on any level.
I bare no responsibility for the acts of my father and relatives. I'm no longer trapped in shame or even fucking embarrassment.
I Have Nothing to Hide...
Yet I hide

I can never tell you all that I am

It's disheartening to realize that dozens of horrific experiences that have molded me into the shape of who I am, can never be spoken or written lest the intensity, inhumanity and cruelty upset.
I understand this on some level as my reality has been so disturbing and distressing that I've spent decades hiding these little insidious gems of truth deep within my self and removed from my waking reality. It's called dissociation, repressing memories and keeping myself sane and quasi functioning.
Lol, if I couldn't bear to know it, why should anyone else?
I don't know...do people routinely have to sequester large parts of their lives? Do I have to continue to be silent when I've just recently overcome the hurdles, the mountains, the walls and defenses and commend myself for having the strength and courage to talk and acknowledge the forbidden truth?
I feel cheated...that I have to protect you by continuing to suppress all that I am.
I feel like an overly compassionate individual who is continuing to sacrifice herself in the silence to spare you some distress.
What about me? When do I get to finally be okay with who I am and openly acknowledge my pain, my torture and my truth?
I feel almost ugly and hideous living half a life in the dark like this. Doesn't seem right...anymore.
I don't want to live a lie anymore and pretend the things that happened didn't.
Can you hear me now?

I would like to hear from an MPD/DID Therapist, what it's like to work with a Client

It boggles my mind to wonder what a counselor/ therapist/ social worker/ psychologist or psychiatrist thinks and feels when working with an MPD/DID client who is actively switching.
I have no idea what my therapist is thinking as she watches me transform from an intelligent, middle aged woman to an inconsolable 8 yr old, beaten child or hapless kid.
My previous therapist often used the word "fascinating" but there were other times when she looked, scared, uncertain, threatened, sad, confused, perplexed and traumatized.
What does it feel like? To see something never or rarely ever witnessed that is...surreal? Otherworldly? Mind blowing?
I really hope to hear. I'm so curious.
Describe it to me, please!!!!!

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

It's a cruel world

Often when I step out my front door, I'm assaulted by inhumanity.
Yesterday, a 9 yr old boy hustled me in the laundromat, for a dollar for chips saying his parents hadn't fed him all day. Then I saw him take money from 3 other strangers.
Today as I walked my dog, another dog drew close to see her. The owner loudly and soundly slapped his dog shouting "no".
There was a facebook post exacting my mother on her 77th birthday. Forever smiling. Pleasantly in denial that she has been nothing but the perfect, saintly, loving mother.
I won't even touch politics, the NFL anthem or the stupidity in the daily news.
It's tragic, truly tragic the way our nation, my nation and society have sunk to the bowels of degradation and rudeness. I simply want no part of it but I haven't found a way to opt out.
It feels like a kindergarten playground, Armageddon and pure hopelessness at times.
Common sense is all but completely lost.
It feels overwhelming like perpetual dark clouds and sporadic twisters pelting innocent bystanders with farmyard debris, mostly barbed wire and half-dried manure.
It's like all the sad, hurt, bullied adults who were maligned as children have gotten the okay to be bullies, name callers and self-righteous bigots.
So-called Chrsitians have taken to sword fighting, blasphemy, racism and outright cruelty. True Christians are the minority as  it's a "might makes right" mentality with the majority twisting and brandishing their "faith" with fists and guttural words. I'm afraid to call myself a Christian for the name has been perverted and degraded by haters, mockers and those who have lost their moral compass and truly forgotten that Christianity and God is all about Love, Compassion and Kindness.
People are attacking each other within the same moniker.
Innocent bystanders who want no part of the chaotic fray are chastised for not being "vocal" or "active" enough. As if I want any part of the growing, sickening wave of hatred that grows in breadth and depth each day. Peacefully, I opt out, as is my right. I refuse to be part of an angry, near-sighted mob following a blind, hateful, spiteful ruler who encourages chaos, disrespect and ignorance.
No, I'll have no part of this growing movement as it sickens me, heart and soul.
See, I've been bent, broken and sunk to the level of complaining and whining which has suddenly become acceptable behavior.
It's sad. An American tragedy. Sister against Sister. Common sense disregarded, lost and deeply buried.
I won't answer hate with hate. I'll pray for peace and continue to practice kindness mostly from the safety of my own home.
There are friends...maybe former friends, that I just can't understand anymore. They aren't who they once were. I don't know or understand their words and actions. They've been changed. My loss.
All I can end with is...
Be kind to one another
Respect one another, respect all people
Try and remember what compassion is

Saturday, September 23, 2017

More Depoe Bay pictures





Whale Watching in Depoe Bay

I needed to drag my sorry butt up out of bed. I realized the seasons had turned and I was quickly falling into Autumns depression. The Spring to Fall transition has always hit me hardest. I made myself get up out of bed. I needed a plan, a destination.
I tried to think of a place is enjoy. The only thing that came to mind was the Pacific coast. Destination set for Depoe Bay, the world's smallest harbor. It's picturesque abutting the ocean with a rocky inlet that promised a good view.
I hadn't ventured to the coast in a few months. I must admit that I felt anxiety leaving home and often along the way. I decided to press on anyway.
One reason I took this "personal day" was because I needed to get away and have some time whereby I didn't need to talk or listen to anybody. Somehow that daily stress required abating. Driving off was the only way to find some peace and solace. Being alone rejuvenates me.
I found a parking spot right along the main road, quite fortuitous! I quickly figured out why the ocean was packed with people sporting binoculars and cameras.
Whales! The humpback whales were migrating and feeding in Depoe Bay. Whilst I'd heard of this phenomenon, I'd never witnessed seeing a real, live whale. Sure enough, I spotted whales shooting water out of their spots, whale backs glistening in the sunlight and the graceful descent of mighty whale tales slipping above and below the surface.
I was enthralled. Thrilled that I had brought binoculars, I brought the experience closer to view. Whales are massive, gentle creatures. Their size correlates to their energy and the harbor practically vibrated. It truly was a magnificent sight.
There were estimates that 5-6 whales were feeding at that time frame. I believe it, if not more. Truthfully, every couple of minutes brought a sighting. I'd never witnessed anything like it before. Two whales even came within 50 feet of shore, of where I was standing. Breathtaking.
I don't know how long I stayed along the concourse watching. It must have been at least an hour or two. Time stopped.
The sky was partly clouding with many periods of bright sun. The temperature an agreeable 60° or so. I took many photos and even a little video capturing the whale signs.
The decision to leave was difficult. I didn't want to turn away from the magical ocean waters teeming with telltale life.
I decided to leave and go down a couple dozen miles to Lost Creek beach. It's one thing to view the ocean, it's quite another to be on the shore touching sand, feeling water and picking up rocks.
I journeyed to the beach. It feels so free, so refreshing standing close to the freeflowing power of the mighty Pacif.
On the beach, I need to closely monitor myself...because I just want to pick a direction, the direction away from the most people, and just start walking...for hours, forever. I don't know why I have that familiar, reoccurring pull, but I'm aware of it. Sigh.
I loved being on the beach. I really, truly did.
Water, especially mighty oceanic water seems to heal all wounds.
It was time to head home. It was a wonderful day.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Alone but not lonely

To be honest, I prefer my own company. If you say that aloud, most people think there is something wrong with you...but there isn't.
I have brief moments whereby I think it'd be nice to have someone around but they are just that, brief.
Being around others is annoying and highly stressful. I find myself searching for neutral, non-harmful or invasive subjects to discuss. I find I have to care about what someone else thinks of me...and that changes who I am.
Alone I am genuine and honest onto myself. I like that.
I have this wonderful, complex world of MPD, DID in my head that needs constant monitoring and attention. I'm constantly working to avoid triggers, flashbacks and overwhelming stimuli that hits me the moment I walk out my front door.
I'd rather listening to non-human sounds than the droning, confusing humanspeak.  Listening to the varying sounds of the nighttime trains somehow soothes me, as does ocean waves, birds singing and the whistling of leaves. Silence which is rarely found is a godsend.
My puppy snoring, the hum of my well-tuned car and the sounds of my own footsteps don't irritate, don't hurt and they demand no verbal response. People require verbal responses all the time. Silence has no such explanations.
I can never get enough quiet time except at night. Peace is found in absence of others and conversation.
Ah, to be able to live a quiet life minus societal norms and pressures...a pipe dream.
Give me a well-written poem or sing me a lullabye. That's all I care to hear. Tell me I'm worthy and valued without me having to put on a verbal show. Sit with me in silence without judgement.
No, these humans demand talk, explanations for my actions and inactions, worse yet, my opinions on things that don't matter like politics and television shows. They drool at favorite tv programs and their lives revolve around that schedule. No, not me. I care not.
If I could have influence on world peace and solving hunger, I'd be there but I'm a realistic cuss with issues of my own.
I'm just trying to stay afloat and I'll give up my only life jacket to no one.
No one knows me or comprehends the struggle. I'd be naive to think anyone cares enough to get in my boat for a spin around my private lake.
I'm not cold or heartless just selfperserving in a sea of drivel and ego driven talkspeak.
I know I'm a caring, thoughtful person just in a subdued way much different than the norm.
And yeah, I prefer my own company. You have no idea my struggle.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

I'm tired all the time

Lately, it seems my days consist of trying to get to sleep at night and working to stay awake during the day.
I have zero energy and even less ambition. I'm a reclining rester who is always tired. My brain isn't even planning or plotting. Can't think of a single thing that I want to do for fun. Just taking up space at this point.
Definitely not in the mood to socialize, leave the house or art. Logically, I'm a waste of space. I don't know if or when I'll feel better. Guess I just have to roll with it.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Hypomania or Insomnia?

When my hypomania set in and I was approaching hour 32 of being wide awake, it was time to see my doctor.
I knew this was no ordinary bout of insomnia as I wasn't the least bit tired. On the contrary, I was wide awake, unable to sit still for more then a few minutes and...I felt good with no signs of slowing down or getting tired anywhere in the near future.
I wouldn't say my thoughts were clear as half the time my mouth couldn't verbalize the words, the thoughts fast enough. I definitely had moments of irritability when I couldn't talk fast enough.
Oh, and I was easily distracted. There were lots of unfinished sentences and projects left half done.
The only real downside to my hypomania was the uncertainty of knowing when it would end. In the next hour would I suddenly be overwhelmed with extreme tiredness? Could I schedule an appointment for tomorrow morning or will I have fallen fast asleep and slept through the alarm?
Okay, well, having CPTSD and flashbacks was a downer, too. I had more brief, intense flashbacks that occurred without any trigger and without warning. That was actually highly unpleasant.
Anyway, I wanted to compile an easy-to-read chart highlighting the differences between Hypomania and Insomnia as they are two very different animals.

Magpie Syndrome, Stealing, Aspergers

Magpie Syndrome and Aspergers,Autism..Stealing


So, I went to this conference last week..and I found myself admiring pretty, shiny things, mostly other peoples bling and baubles. When seated with others from my..party, I often found my eyes seriously gravitated to their necklaces and rings to the point where I had to either consciously self-restrain myself from touching or I would ask to see said pretty shiny things. Most people proved to be pretty okay with allowing me to touch their goods with one woman even going so far as to remove her ring and let me play with it for a moment:)
This got me thinking...
So, upon my return home, I scoured the internet to see if there was a correlation for Aspergers/Ausitm and pretty shinys and/ or if the obsession with all that glitters was a psych or "named" syndrome.
It took me awhile to stumble upon "Magpie Syndrome" and, even then, only on an obscure, single website,"Urban Dictionary". I wasn't sure Urban Dictionary was a legit site, so I search wikied it and it seems legit.
Here is what it says:
Magpie Syndrome- an irrational affinity for shiny objects. When a highly shiny object is seen by the sufferer it often may induce a compulsive need to claim it and several minutes of staring at said object. This will later end in the sufferer pocketing the object to add to his/ her collection by a sunny windowsill at home. If a shiny object is outside of a sufferers grasp it will usually result in a strong, though usually short-live obsession over it.
Okay, so it is somewhat tongue-in-cheek and it is a site where individuals submit words and definitions but it really,really fits.
I find that it is irrational and definitely obsessive to the point of distraction and nothing else matters, albeit momentary or temporarily.
Just yesterday, I was picking up my phone and the tech helping me had on a bright, shiny necklace with a semi-familiar symbol on it. After a few minutes of figuring out when it was appropriate to ask, I did. Of course, I do not touch things directly upon a person like that, but I was able to do the second best thing and overtly stare at it as she described what it was.
My son, my eldest with the Aspergers, has this to an even higher degree. Back when he was quite young, 4 or 5, we noticed bright, shiny, expensive small things missing from the house...jewelry, crystals, things like that. He had been pilfering items that were sparkly. So, as biological mom, I gave him more than one good talking to but the behavior persisted.
It became quite clear that this was something that was obsessive and outside his rational control. My ways of coping were to simply start going through his room once in a while, locating the stash and returning them to their proper place.
His pocketing never stopped. And I lost a number of very expensive items to his Magpie Syndrome.

Anyway, I would be most to curious as to if other Aspies, Autistics have the same symptoms.

Aspergers Syndrome...a definition

Aspergers Syndrome...a definition


Aspergers goes by a few different names: Asperger's Syndrome, Aspergers Disorder and Asperger's disease. I prefer to just use Aspergers and often refer to myself as an Aspie. Its shorter and sweeter.
It is often considered the mildest of the Autism Spectrum Disorders. And there is great individuality to it. Each and every Aspie falls into a different spot on this spectrum, with some individuals being very high functioning, while others are more challenged.
I think that I have run the gamut from severely affected to high functioning. There was definitely a time, in my early 20's where I was very low-functioning in that I rarely left the house, had one or two acquaintances and avoided people at all costs. It was a very isolated, hermit-like existence.
Sometime in my 30's, with the right therapist and friends, I was able to come out of my shell, start interacting with the world and became moderately functional.
Gosh,it really wasn't until the last decade that I became high functioning enough to pass for near-normal. Now, I think, most people would be hard-pressed to tell I have Aspergers. And the majority of my friends would probably be quite shocked if they knew the extent of my....past 30 years.
I consider myself to be quite fortunate as I have lived in a variety of situations and circumstances that have allowed me to actually have a pretty broad view of life.
So when I hear that someone else has Aspergers, while I can understand some of the general traits and symptoms, I would be hard-pressed to figure out exactly what it means/ how it affects that individual. Each and every Aspie is a unique creation :)
Aspergers is a spectrum disorder so everyone who is an Aspie has it to a different degree. I will explain my traits as best I can...
First off, a few facts: Asperger Syndrome (AS) occurs in 1 in 10,000 people. It is 10 times more common in males than females. There is a genetic factor in that an Aspie typically has a parent or other relative with AS or a related disorder such as PDD (pervasive personality disorder), ADD or autism.
My eldest son is an Aspie as is my father, grandfather and possibly great-grandmother (probable) and great-great grandfather (possible). I come by it honestly 

So here are Wikipedias list of characteristics:
1) qualitative impairment in social interaction...meaning I have a hard time making small talk and that interacting with others is not a natural function. I have no idea of what to say with people unless we have a very common bond. When my son was born, my social world opened up because I had a baby to talk about with other moms. It was really my first venture engaging with others.

2) Restricted patterns of behavior...I adore patterns and have a rather strict routine for how things are done from doing dishes to mowing the lawn, cooking, arranging food on my plate and the method with which I eat, dressing and my nighttime routine.

3) Intense preoccupation with a specific subject....I have a deep and passionate love for science, nature, words and sometimes art and can spend entire days reading, researching and exploring these avenues to the extent that the rest of the world is lost and quite a bother when it intrudes.

4) One-sided verbosity...sometimes, but rarely...I have learned the intricacies of everyday conversation and the give and take throughout my 40 something years, so it isn't as pronounced as it had been. I tend to heavily censor my self so as not to talk about my intense special interests because I know others simply are not interested.

5) Physical clumsiness...I have been known to bump into more than one parked car and tend to walk like a drunken sailor. I distinctly remember that darn balance beam in kindergarten and how frustrating it was.

6) Lack of demonstrated apathy...hmmm, to some degree yes. I have a hard time understanding emotions as a rule much less what another person can be feeling in a given situation...unless I have been through an exact experience. Yes, the majority of time I am completely clueless as to how someone else feels.

7) Difficulties in the basic elements of social interaction...I cannot read the emotion on a persons face unless it is quite dramatic. I used to think everyone was always mad at me. Or that so and so really liked me just because she smiled at me once. In conversations, I watch peoples lips move so I know when it is my turn to speak. I miss a lot of what is being said because I am extremely slow at verbal processing. I cannot understand people with heavy accents or those who speak in a fast pace.

8) Impaired nonverbal behavior...Avoidance of eye contact, lack of appropriate facial expression..yeah and I tend to either laugh or cry when I get really nervous. I try and be acutely aware of my body language and read a few books on the subject. It helps me blend in.

9) Stereotyped and repetitive motor behaviors are a core part of the diagnosis. "They include hand movements such as flapping or twisting, and complex whole-body movements. They are typically repeated in longer bursts and look more voluntary or ritualistic than tics, which are usually faster, less rhythmical and less symmetrical." There are times when I am convinced that I may be a lunatic when I catch myself making repetitive, nonsensical hand gestures for absolutely no reason. The more stress I am under, the more gesturing I do. If I am having great difficulty finding the words I want to express, the gestures go up as well. It makes no sense to me when my body parts move in odd, unpredictable ways.

10) Language abnormalities...a) Verbosity-using lots of words...oh yeah..Why use five words when you can throw in another ten, or twenty. I frequently make up new words and sprinkle everyday conversations with Middle or Old English…thee, thou, methinks…etc. I can tell when I am too long-winded..I watch for eyes glazing over in to a dull stare.
b) Abrupt transitions...I used to blurt things out in the middle of others sentences with alarming frequency...still do, if I am not careful c) literal interpretations and miscomprehension of nuance....an example...someone says "he's a dirty old man", well I picture just that..an old man in filthy tattered clothes. Its like non-Aspies speak in a completely different, very complex language. I take things quite literally. And please, please, please, don't try and tell me a joke. I probably will not get it. d) use of metaphor meaningful only to the speaker. I also tend to repeat the same sentence in a conversation. I don't know if this is obsessive compulsive behavior or Aspieness...I very frequently repeat the same sentence in a conversation...two or three times.

11) Excellent auditory and visual perception. I am such a visual person. To remember things I have to literally write them out on the chalkboard in my head..my mental screen, if you will.
In a nutshell, its like I have way more neurons (nerve cells) turned on them most which makes me hypersensitive to sound, touch, taste, lights, and smells

Emotions are very strange, volatile things which cause me great consternation. I have a hard time identifying them..Which emotion is it?...expressing them appropriately...I tend to bottle them up..Or they may kindof explode and pour forth all at once in a mad dance of tears, anger and nonsensical words...

I don't look at it as a disease or disorder; rather it’s a different way of perceiving life. I live in my own little world but I am capable of going out and playing in the real one, for short bursts of time. Every day life presents itself with more challenges and opportunities to use creative thinking to overcome all the little things that most people don't ever have to think about. Yes, it can be quite exhausting at times...but I do the best I can.

The first and oft most challenging part about writing about Aspergers is figuring out what makes me different from NTS. And if you live within your own walls, if you venture outside of your own home maybe once or twice a day, sometimes...if you get together with a group of people for a social function, funeral, wedding, meeting, less than once every six months...One is a serious isolationist and it is really hard to see outside ones own skin.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

My first episode of hypomania Yikes!

My doctor suggested that I might have hypomania due to the fact that I was wide awake and highly productive for 40 straight hours without distress. The second night of no sleep I decided to take the sleep med doctor prescribed. Omg, it was the best, solid 8 hours of sleep I  think I've ever had in my entire life, I kid you not. I awoke refreshed and it felt fabulous.
I'd never heard the term hypomania  before so I looked it up. Dang, that looks about right.
My hypomania symptoms: very little to no sleep each day; I actually have this thing called self-esteem which usually eludes me; my house is wicked clean as every evening I spend hours cleaning and organizing (and it feels like fun!); I have the energy to shower and go for long walks; my everyday plethora of aches and pains is gone; my brain works faster than my mouth which can be frustrating; I can't lay down or sit still for long; I eat less; food tastes good; I'm a bit more distractable; and spending money is too easy.
Overall, hypomania feel a like a refreshing reprieve from the listless chronic tiredness. It feels like a vacation. I enjoy being productive cause man, I've been seriously depressed for a very long time.
Since this is my first hypomania episode, I'll start monitoring my sleep and eat patterns. I don't have the official diagnosis yet so I'll gather more info and see my doctor shortly. I don't know if she's going to want to try medication or not.
The worst thing about hypoM is the uncertainty of not knowing when or if I will become tired or extremely tired. It's difficult to plan things. I've just got to roll with it.
So much more research to do.
Be well

I never feel good, depression

After a recent episode of hypomania, it's become quite clear how depression affects me each day. I can compare depression to not being depressed. Can't say that I ever feel "good" or healthy, just not depressed.
I'm back to feeling my old self. I don't feel well. My body hurts all over in a nonspecific way. I'm dragging, tired, lethargic and just want to lay down and do nothing. Food has no taste again. The projects I started hypomanic are sitting around half done. Probably be that way for awhile. I don't want to talk to anybody or leave my house.
There is no thrill, ambition, goal to look forward to. Things simple are.
When the deck is stacked against you, learn to do the best with what you have. Suicide is never the answer. It's the chickens way out and the bastards win if you give up. Never give up. You have no idea how many people would be negatively impacted by a sudden death.
Accept that this is life. It may very well change for the positive at any moment.
Do the best you can and just be okay with it. Seek help and assistance whenever possible. I'm not pleased that I need so much assistance but I realize it's going to make my life easier.
It's like, there are therapists, counselors, ministers, friends, support groups...their job, sometimes their delight is in help others. Keep them honest. Make them work.
I don't know...it doesn't seem fair but life is rarely fair.
Some people have it easy, don't begrudge them.
Each day is a challenge. No one truly understands the struggle unless it's someone else who shares the same issue.
Depression is real. The struggle is huge. Don't give up. Share your story and your feelings.
It's okay...its just what I have to deal with.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Dealing with my allergy to sulphur, how it feels

It feels like a victory, having an allergic reaction to the flu shot today at my doctor's office. I've had these events for over 20 years but never have I been able to chart its symptomology with a healthcare professional.
My allergy Is Real and Validated!!!!
In addition, I was able to verbalize and become more aware of exactly what the symptoms feel like.
I better start at the beginning. My allergy to sulfa, sulfur was acquired when I was 30 years old, shortly after the birth of my first noble son. I came down with an infection, both my infant son and I, and I was prescribed Bactrim which I'd been on many times before.
Shortly thereafter, either the 1st or 2nd day on the med, I started feeling odd and unwell but I just couldn't identify what was off.
I remember asking my neighbor to watch the baby and heading to the emergency room. At the ER, the doctor was rushing, moving quickly. I heard the phrase "anaphylactic shock" for the very first time directed at me. I also distinctly remember the phrases "you came close to dying" and "how does it feel to cheat death?"
I was given a shot of epinephrine and monitored diligently.
At the time, my brain could not process all this new information and I didn't have a family doctor that I was comfortable enough with to query. A few days later, it hit me with full force. At the follow up dr appointment, I again was met with the phrase "you almost died." Scary stuff for this Multiple Autistic. That event really did rock my world.
I knew I was allergic to Bactrim but I wasn't aware that sulfa lurked in many foods. I learned the hard way via minor and major reactions that sulfa was in eggs, mayonnaise, wine, champagne and various fruits and vegetables. It probably took me a good year to fully research and comprehend all the affected foods.
It became unsafe, unwise to eat in restaurants or even get takeout. Organic and pesticide free became the way to go.
Anyway, jumping back to how my body feels when exposed to sulfa....I start to feel odd and foggy. My body gets sluggish and feels heavy and awkward. I start shaking often in waves. My heart races, which I Used to attribute to panic but alas, tis not the case. My blood pressure rises, pulse quickens and respirations slow down. My thoughts get dull and my speech slows to a drunken drawl. There is an unusual sensation directly behind my navel...like a shock, a wound?, alarming sensation. My hands, arms and feet sometimes tingle or feel cold.
My doctor, God bless her, was able to see me before, during and after the allergic reaction!!!! I just want to cry because people have treated me like I was a fake, a hypochondriac, an attention seeker. Hell, even I didn't fully trust myself and what I was feeling! Having her as a witness, check my vital signs and seeing the different Overt symptoms makes me feel so GD happy!!! I'm not faking!!!!!!
Doctor promptly gave me benadryl and she sat and talked with me for almost an hour till the symptoms passed and I felt somewhat steady.
Wow, what a day! Who Knew I'd welcome an allergic reaction and rejoice in it!!!

Holding my breath above water

How many times did I hold my breath in fear? Anticipating the next thrust or blow? As if by holding my breath I could create a wall, a barrier and not feel the impending pain.
How many times did I hold my breath pretending to make myself small, insignificant, invisible? If they don't see me, they can't grab and hurt me.
How many times did I hold my breath to stem the flow of tears? For if they saw my pain it would have made them smile. Or if I had started crying I was afraid I would never stop.
I held my breath cause I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to be. I wanted to drift away into the nothingness.
I held my breath in protest, in defiance as a way of standing up while being pushed down and stomped.
Mostly, thou mostly, I held my breath to try and stop the hell of my reality. To stop the pain. I held my breath...to breath would have made what they were doing to me...real

An Act of God, The depths of aloneness

I've come to fully realize that an intimate relationship is not in my hand of cards. The amount of effort, energy and time required to find someone isn't going happen in my world. The very real fear of another abusive, toxic relationship can be avoided by not putting myself out there as wounded bait.
I'm Not Looking.
Unless an Act of God, a Godthing puts the right, healthy person directly in my path and shines a holy light on their head, I shall not be looking for love.
I accept the fact that I'm rather broken. I live each day awash in damage done. I work to heal and fix myself as much as the scars can be lessened.
It doesn't make me angry or upset, as this is simply where I am at. I can look in the mirror and see who I am.
I can look at my past and see the trouble, the dysfunction and damage caused by loving the wrong person.
Avoidance causes less pain than cruel, callous partners.
I choose less pain.

The depth of my despair

Therapy, yesterday, was the closest I have yet come to being able to share, to put words to, the depth of my despair. Aka, my long suffering existence.
My pain is thick, having been painted on in broad and small strokes day after day from 1-20. My childhood is a few words: brutal, torture and incestuous.
My teen years, moments of freedom and semblance of "normalacy" coupled with moments in fathers bed.
Ah, then a brief respite, a marriage and a move out of town only to descend into the madness of memories, fizzling flashbacks and pure chaos, a living breathing hell.
At 23, my first psychiatric hospitalization. Days filled with jobs I couldn't work and flopping on beds of resentful relatives.
At 26, failed suicide, a cry for help, a 200 mile drive, Center One Ward and the diagnosis....Multiple Personality Disorder. The truth revealed.
The incest a secret no more.
Answers to my pain, my anguish and unfathomable distress.
Three decades later...I continue to fight against the rapes, the threats and the aloneness of being lost within.
Healing, pulling myself together, each day...surviving....it is all I know. It's what I do best...drag my sorry ass through the pain for yet another day.
Sigh.
Maybe yesterday, just maybe, I've come a step closer to revealing who I really am and how I've suffered all these 54 years.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Sobering, Living with CPTSD and MPD, the Autistic Multiple Speaks

There are few things more sobering than receiving ones medical records in the mail unexpectedly and seeing that I've been treated for my created CPTSD and MPD since I was 23 years old.
30 plus years of hospitalizations, psychiatrists, counselors, medication and insanity. This has been my life. It's all that I am. I am a weary, battle fatigued soldier who has been fighting for my life and my insanity every single day.
Diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder at 26. 20 years of weekly and biweekly therapy. Days spent counting down to the next therapy session.
Notebook upon notebook of journal notes attempting to stay orientated and functional.
It's a sad life but it's all I got.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Living and Managing Lichen Sclerosis

I've learned a number of tactics to keep my LS under control:
1) Estrace- one, pea-sized dab to the affected areas 2-3 times per week.
2) Low Oxalate diet. I've dealt with gout, kidney stones and gallstones, so going Low Ox is ideal for me. I've basically eliminated or cut way back on foods that upset my digestion. I actually feel best eating my limited diet of hamburger, rice, potatoes, gluten free Corn Chex, bananas, apples and small amounts of chocolate.
Anything that gives me an upset stomach, tomatoe sauces, hot dogs, almonds, spinach is no longer regular fare. I feel so much better eating low ox.
3) Probiotics. I eat plain yogurt daily, usually a few tablespoons. At times I will purchase high quality Probiotics. I don't bother buying any that do not require refrigeration as they tend to be of lower quality and potency.
Those are the three main things that work for me.
Other treatments that help that I've read about: Red Clover Tea, Apple Cider Vinegar, Honey applied daily.
Feel free to share your struggle and what, if anything has helped.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

I've always been a depressed insomniac and some things will never change

Sometimes you just have to accept who you are and realize it's not going to change. I think I've been putting too much effort into trying to turn concrete into sand.
I can see now that I have continually had low level depression with sporadic, isolated instances of happiness, which looks a lot like mania. It's quite clear why I've been diagnosed with manic depression a couple of times before. It Looks Like It. Ha, but it's just autistic me.
My antidepressant medication keeps me barely floating and works just fine. I've probably tried a dozen other antiD meds which resulted in disappointing side effects. Basically, this is as good as it gets. No use complaining or trying to make it improve.
Maybe I'm just learning to give up on lost causes...sleeping at night, therapy and not being depressed.
Sleep meds have proven to be nightmares. So I've tried to be productive with my nighttime hours. I can't ever see it changing.
I throw my hands up in the air but it's better than frustrated fists.
I'm lonely but without the ability, the energy and the mental means to have a relationship. Just gotta get used to that. It sure feels like a double bind...wanting something and not having the means to procure it.
Nope, I'm not sad or even bummed. I call it harsh reality.
I'm so sick of all this "love love love" crap which is something I haven't experienced nor will I ever. The distress of just getting through the day is more then I can handle as it is.
I'll continue my avoidance protocol, only doing all the things that need to be done. The fewest appointments and interactions as possible. I even stopped acupuncture because the stress was more then the benefit. That plus having to drive to a nearby town with traffic and all. It just didn't add up anymore.
Maybe I'm becoming more calculating, wiser and prioritizing better. My son comes first and his needs are many. It's easy for me to do for him. It's my priority. He's my guy. I'm taking care of me, too.
Low-level reclusive living works best for this autistic.

Nothing to nobody

Reconnecting with earliest memories leads to shift in relationships

I have 5 or 6 relationships in my life which are relevant on a mostly daily basis: God, therapist, son 1, son 2 and new found friend of 2 mo...