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The_Learning_Curve_by_Rubus65

    The Learning Curve by ~Rubus65

The following is in response to our post “We’re No Good.” A very good friend of Cathie’s gave permission for us to use her emails as this event is sure to be a learning tool to others with D.I.D., family and friends.

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From: Cathie’s Friend (Name Not Disclosed For Privacy)
To: The Others
Sent: Wednesday, February 25, 2009 2:32:59 PM
Subject: Listen up!

To the Others,

Okay, I’ve had enough! STOP BEING SO MEAN TO CATHIE! No wonder she tries to deny your existence sometimes, you guys can be real assholes. She needs your support, not your insults. If it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t be here. You all need to work together and try some positive reinforcement because whatever is happening right now is obviously not working. So she didn’t come to the meeting? So fucking what? Schedule another one, big deal! Keep scheduling them until she comes. She is trying really hard to do the best she can with the life she’s got and I don’t think she can do that without you guys behind her. I realize she may not have treated you the way you would like to be treated in the past but IT’S TIME TO SUCK IT UP! How about this, treat her the way you would like to be treated and I bet you that good things will start to happen. I’m sorry if you are pissed off at me for this, but you know what? Too bad! You all need to work together now and move forward.

Sincerely,

Cathie’s Friend (Name Not Disclosed For Privacy)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: The Others

To: Cathie’s Friend (Name Not Disclosed For Privacy)

Sent: Thursday, February 26, 2009 1:33 AM

Subject: Re: Listen up!

Hello Cathie’s Friend,

My goodness, if we had a friend like you, we’d have no enemies! It’s really good Cathie has you.

It has taken us all night to respond in order to allow those who were angry or crying to calm down so the reply would come from our wise mind. We can see that you have a kind heart as we’ve never seen you be cruel to anyone. With that in mind, it was used as a reminder for the children and teens which helped them lower the intensity of their emotions. The adults thought you might be trying a tough love approach which does not work so well with alters whose entire existence was always one of tough love, without the love.

You had some valid points about regarding our behaviour:

  • we can be mean to Cathie
  • we can throw insults at her
  • we do need to work together
  • Cathie cannot have the life she wants without our co-operation
  • treat Cathie the way we would like to be treated

Actually, these points could well apply to Cathie as well. When she ingests numerous ativan, gravol, tylenol it numbs us, leaving us trapped in our concrete little rooms that hold only a small bed, and this doesn’t give us the opportunity to sit in the wood theatre chairs to watch what is happening outside. When she denies our existence, it is a stab in our being because we kept her away from so much pain. We also cannot have the life we want with Cathie’s co-operatiaon. As you can see, there is much work to be done with all of us, including Cathie.

One thing we definitely did not agree with was the point that without Cathie we would not be here. Actually, if it wasn’t for us in removing Cathie from the horrific abuses, she would have died as we did things that are reprehensible to save her life. We would prefer not to be here because we don’t have our own bodies, we live in a dark, damp concrete environment and we would not have had to endure so much physical and emotional pain when Cathie was little.

Just a gentle reminder that when you address everyone, you are talking to toddlers, children, tweens, teens and adults. This is very important as the young ones were crying, believing they were really bad. It has been eight years since any sense of teamwork has occurred between Cathie and all of us. The main reason for this is that Cathie had been taking so many medications that we were muted and Cathie was so angry with us for actually pushing forward with the suicide attempt.

As a result, the once safe interior is now one of sorrow, rage, pain, dark, grey and cold. So, there was frustration on both sides. We are at a place where we were about 15 years ago when it was chaos, anger, no co-operation etc. It is through this blog that we will be able to iron out the differences, get angry with one another (might not be in the most constructive manner, but that will be dealt with amongst ourselves and Cathie) and hopefully, learn to accept each other and encourage healing amongst one and all. The most important thing is that dialogue occur only amongst Cathie and ourselves with relation to how our system is functioning. We’ve made our blog public in order to educate people on what it is "truly" like for all of us, the good times and bad, and more importantly, how we will learn to work co-operatively.

Now, although your email did cause some distress, it also acted as a catalyst for us to look at what held truth in your email. We thank you for that.

We would like your permission to publish your letter on our blog with our reply as we feel it would be very helpful for us, Cathie and other people with D.I.D. and their families/friends. We would not use your name to protect your privacy.

Sincerely,
Elisabeth, on behalf of everyone within.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: Cathie’s Friend

To: The Others
Sent: Thursday, February 26, 2009 7:43:05 AM
Subject: Re: Listen up!

Hello Elisabeth and Everyone,

Thank you for your response. Upon rereading my note to you I realized I did sound harsh and I am sorry for that. I really wasn’t thinking of the little ones and how they might feel and that was wrong. I had been reading the blogs and talking to Cathie and all I could hear was how much pain she is in and I just kind of snapped, mostly because I was worried that she might do something drastic and I got scared. My heart aches for the pain that all of you had to go through and I hope that you can all work together to be happy. If there is anything I can do to help just let me know.

Sincerely,

Cathie’s Friend

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: The Others
To: Cathie’s Friend
Sent: Thursday, February 26, 2009 9:54:13 PM
Subject: hi

Hello again Cathie’s Friend,

Thank you for your reply. It truly meant a lot to us. You, just being yourself, is all we need. We are so very grateful to have you in our life.

Have you considered our request to use your letter in our blog? See below where we’ve highlighted the information. Can you let us know? Thank you.

Elisabeth, on behalf of those within

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100_0822

It’s 10:15 p.m. and I feel like I’m going to explode. You know, the type where your stomach tightens and an acid taste builds in your mouth. It feels like a loud animalistic noise will screech from my throat if I open my mouth.

Keep typing. Yup, that’s the thing to do.

I attached a picture of myself with the new haircut I got a week ago. I like this picture. A rarity for sure. I like my hair. I actually look happy in this photo. I think I was. Yeah, it was a week ago Monday and I’d spent the afternoon downtown Sidney looking for the perfect gifts for Lynn when I happened upon my salon. The rest of the story is evident.

So now, here I sit one week later, frustrated to the point of shaving my head because I couldn’t get my hair to look like the photo this morning. I tell myself I didn’t have the straightening gel, so of course my hair is poofier. I’ve always been so uncoordinated when it comes to styling my hair which is why I never do a damned thing to it. I feel so ugly with all of this weight on me. 227.8 That’s a whooping 11.8 lbs lost since January 1st. I’m being mature and accepting the loss, but fuck, it’s still 77.8 lbs away from my goal. And I still weigh over 200 lbs! That’s what disgusts me the most, weighing over 200 lbs.

I took a photo of myself tonight and as usual was shocked at the image. At least I don’t look full term pregnant like I did in January; now, it’s about 5 months pregnant. I don’t feel attractive and I miss that. I know I’m married and shouldn’t really care if anyone looks at me, but I do. I remember what it felt like to have a man gaze at me and I want that to happen again. Sure, I can dress nice, do my best to make my hair look like the above image, but no man looks at me in that way anymore. Not even my husband.

That hurts the most.

So, life’s not fair. But I have no one to blame for my situation but myself. I chose to binge on peanut butter, Starbucks ginger cookies, butter tarts, banana bread, cereal and milk. The results of my binging are 77.8 lbs of jelly like fat that gives me two stomachs, big boobs, large ass, thick legs and round face. Then there’s my laziness. I’d sat on my ass for years and now that equates to aches in every joint and with every movement. Trying to move around my load takes a lot of energy and I am definitely lacking in that area. I hear myself. I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Enough of that shit girl! Stop your fucking whining and get with the plan!

Taking this journey one day at a time is so slow and impossible to accept with patience and perseverance. I’m so sick of reading how it’s the journey, not the destination that is most important, to focus on this moment and to accept that the process is slow and steady. I want what the Biggest Loser offers – 6 hrs per day of pure hell in physical activity with a trainer that pushes you to the brink and beyond. I’m not working, I could do this. I think of it every night before I fall asleep and plan how I will take this approach in the morning. Well, the next day arrives, I sleep most of it away because I’ve been awake all night, and exercising, fuck, I haven’t even given it a thought.

No, my routine is 15 minutes of biking on my indoor recumbent bike at a light speed per my physiotherapist’s instructions. She permits me to do this twice each day. Following this, I do my stretches, balancing exercises and core work that she has given me, which takes 15 minutes. What do I actually do? First two days, I follow her instructions 100%, the third day I bike at a moderate pace working up a sweat and add additional stretches. Why do I do this to myself? I want to move without pain now, not a few months from now.

I’m obsessed with how I looked seven years ago. I was slim, could wear short skirts, cute hats, tank tops and best of all, I felt and looked sexy. I could see the eyes of men and women looking at me and I loved it. No, I craved it. The thing about it is that who I was seven years ago is dead. I cannot recreate her for she doesn’t exist.

So, what’s left?

On the exterior is an obese 47 year old woman who walks with her head down avoiding eye contact at all costs. I avoid going anywhere to be with people because of the shame and disgust I feel at how I let myself fall apart. I notice that I’m the minority in the public and now when I’m looked at it’s because I am different. I’m big. I’m fat. I’m ugly. Gone are the gazes. Now it is stares.

The depression and anxiety are like a roller coaster and I’m always terrified of moving towards upwards. Each jerk pulls my body deeper into my mind so that by the time I’m at the top, there is but a minuscule piece of me left. I look down and before I can take a breath, I am tumbling faster and faster until I crash at the bottom, landing in a murky, sticky brown puddle. Try as I might, I cannot lift my arms or body to rise. I am mired in this mess, my mess and right now I feel trapped, unable to find my way out.

Now I ponder my situation. I do have a choice. Continue or give up. I will continue. I don’t like it. In fact, I hate it so much that I have the urge to vomit. I’ll trudge forward and hope that I’ll figure out how to get out of the mud that encases my body and mind.

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image Still not good enough by ~Iamno-Scientist

There is no such thing as an angry font, so this will have to fucking do! No fucking meeting today for a variety of reasons. First, ms. bitch continued to today to denounce our existence, then she told Paul about the meeting, so there was pressure when he asked if we had it, when we were going to have it, then we got really tired from our meds.

Maybe we don’t exist. Maybe we’re just a figment of her imagination. I know she was feeling all scared this afternoon at how she would go to our inner world from her world. God she can be so stupid at times! Ah, close your eyes and just let it happen! Duh!

Can’t stand her. Can’t stand any of us. Can’t stand this life, or whatever the fuck it is. Yeah, we know we’re really, really fat, obese class 2, that we’ve gained weight so far this week, but we still are not going to exercise! What’s in it for us? Not a damned thing! So why would any sane person leave the comfort of their recliner to put on socks and runners and a tshirt and get on that fucking bike and move for 30 minutes all the while sweating and hurting? Not us! We weren’t born yesterday. If we can get out of that stupid Weight Watchers contract, we’re going to eat whatever the hell we want. Come on peanut butter! Let’s gorge on Starbucks ginger cookies. Dozen doughnuts? No problemo.

Fuck, why bother writing anything more. We didn’t have the meeting which means we’re a failure, that includes you too Cathie. Yup, we’re all a failure and now have to face Paul with this news and yhou know what that means…he’ll get that sad face and eyes which always upsets us. We’re no good. We’re no good at all.

By All of Us

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in_the_deep_dark_hole_by_demonikangelx in the deep dark hole by ~demonikangelx @ deviantArt

I did it. I finally did it. I cancelled all my massage and physio appointments. I was so conflicted before, during and after. Sure we got back 80% of the cost and once we paid $1,000 of our own money, it was free, but still I felt immense guilt for spending the money. When I looked at what I spent over the last few years on trying to lose weight it was appalling. I’m going to send an email to Weight Watchers to see if I can get out of the six month contract that cost $299. I bought it my first meeting because it was a huge savings $11.50/meeting verses $15.80/meeting, a whopping 28% less! What the fuck?! I mean look at my track record, I quit everything, so most likely I’ll quite this as well.

I weighed myself today and saw a 1 lb gain. I’m so fucking pissed it’s beyond belief. I know I’m not exercising, but I’m not going over in my points and I’m eating healthy. Okay, I admit, I ate 6 pkgs of oatmeal yesterday so that was like 12 points, but I do get 27 points total for the day, so that’s not bad and besides, unless I’m blind, I don’t remember seeing anywhere in the Weight Watchers’ books that I can’t eat just one type of food all day. Well, they do say to eat a balanced diet, so I’m probably wrong.

I left a message for my psychiatrist who won’t be in until Thursday or Friday asking her advice on what I can do to make myself do the things that will help the depression like showering, exercising and following through on what I say I’ll do. I know that mediation alone can’t lift depression, but I seriously don’t have the energy or desire to do anything. I just want to stay in bed. In fact I’m going to bed shortly, it’s 11:11 p.m. right now, that way I can sleep until 4:30 p.m. tomorrow. The thoughts of facing tomorrow fill me with dread. I’ve got things to do like grooming all the dogs which would definitely take more than one afternoon, crochet the fingerless mittens and summer bag, block the scarf I made Lynn then wrap and mail it (was for xmas), patch the walls in the exercise room, paint the exercise room, actually exercise in the exercise room, cook meals, sweep floors, wash floors, wash walls, wash windows, walk the dogs, make the bed, finish that anniversary slideshow I made for Paul for our 25th anniversary which was a year and a half ago, go to bed at 10 or 11 and get up by 8, eat three meals and two snacks daily and the list goes on.

I think I’m a dog. All I want to do is sleep, sleep, maybe grab a couple packs of oatmeal with milk and brown sugar to eat, drink a cup and a half of coffee, check my email and facebook to see if there’s anybody out there and finally, go back to sleep. Oh yeah, I’m one of those dogs that doesn’t like to go for walks.

So what can my psychiatrist to with one fuckinig call? Probably not much. I feel frustration  push up from my vagina through my stomach into my chest and get stuck. How do I make the want bigger than the don’t want? Or maybe it’s ‘how do I make the can bigger than the don’t want?’ That’s it..I’m fucking brilliant! I’m totally capable of getting on that damned recumbent bike and moving my legs in a circular motion, but like a spoiled rotten child I refuse to.

No! No! No! I Won’t! You can’t make me! I hate you! I hate you! Get away from me! No! Now fuck off!

Problem arising……

Genital arousal is happening as I type all of this. That is usually a tell tale sign that I’m being triggered by something or that I’m feeling intense fear, no make that, terror.

So am I afraid of losing weight? Am I afraid of having a nice looking body? Am I afraid of being able to breathe? Am I afraid of going for walks? Am I afraid of having energy? Yadda yadda yadda…..

It’s the same old bullshit I’ve been feeding myself for years, yet nothing ever changes. If I look at a journal from five years ago I’ll read almost verbatim what I write here. Frustrated. Can’t figure out why I don’t follow through. Wonder when I’ll wake up and feel better, whatever the hell that means.

I saw there is a 10 day silent meditation retreat late April that is free. This really intrigued me, but there was a section written that people with mental disorders should not attend as the retreat won’t heal them. Well, I know that! I’m seriously thinking of applying to go, getting a letter from Dr. Campbell to state I won’t go off on some rampage and kill every breathing entity and hopefully find a carpool. The thoughts of 10 days of silence seems a bit daunting as does 10 hours per day of meditation, but this quietness may be what we need to push through whatever barrier is in front of our face not allowing us to move ahead. I do worry how I’ll do without Paul and the puppies for 10 days; however, the way I am right now is no good to them at all, so if there is a glimmer of hope that this retreat might shake me loose from the vie that holds me, I’m willing to give it a go. I always rush into things then later quit, so this time I’m going to sit with it, discuss it with Paul, maybe even call and talk to them about my mental illnesses and finally talk it over with my psychiatrist.

Aagghh….gotta stop now…letter c is giving me problems and I can feel my frustration rising. If I don’t stop now, within a minute I’ll want to murder someone.

Before I go and since I’ve found the image for this post, I need to say that the little circles of hope I used to see in the distance are diminishing. This means that pretty soon there will be no opening with which to escape from my hell.

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Waiting For The Kill

11262007-menacing_450px

Close your eyes and turn away

Maybe then you’ll be safe

Safe from what?

you want to know


Nosing your way into everything


From the boogeyman, the monster

Anything big and dark and mean


Now turn around and stay still

Don’t’ peek I remind, but I know

Your eyes will be half shut so you

Can peer out the bottom


Better safe than sorry is your motto


Maybe one I should adopt


For now, I give up on protecting you

I’ll sit and wait for the moment to kill

When it rears it’s menacing face.


Image Link

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Dear Elisabeth, Rob, Lisa, the others who wrote and those who did not write;

This is my first step in trying to accept each of you instead of hating what you represent. I want the inner/outer war to end and I figure after eighteen years it’s sure about time. So, it looks like it was a good idea to restart the blog as you have written in it twice already. Having that new program so you can have your own fonts, colours and pictures really helps as well.

I’ll admit it, this feels weird.

It feels like I’m talking to myself or thin air, not to other personalities within my mind. I don’t know why I resist this diagnosis so much. Part of it is that it is one mental illness that definitely doesn’t get discussed in public. That in and of itself is shame producing.

Alright, it’s really late and I’ve got to go to bed.

Thank you for inviting me to the meeting.

 

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Image: Dead Drugs by ~radicaldad at deviantArt

dead drugs by ~radicaldad @ deviantart.com We’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time we stop all the medication. It’s really hard for us to make any headway when we feel so dopey. by Some of Us

Like now for instance, we would like to write a longer piece; unfortunately heavy laden eyelids, blurred vision and the inability to think clear are preventing this action from transpiring. At present, she is ingesting numerous medications:

  1. 150 mg Effexor-XR: depression & anxiety
  2. 1200 mg Gabapenten: anxiety
  3. 120 mg Cymbalta: depression
  4. 200 mg Seroquel-XR: anxiety, sleep
  5. 1 mg Clonazepam: anxiety, sleep
  6. 1 mg Ativan: PRN panic attacks
  7. 40 mg Pariet: GERD

This list has been greatly reduced and I feel that is why more of us are able to be present fully. It has been a few years since this was possible. I believe that it is due in part to the Seroquel-XR which is an anti-psychotic; however, further research is required to confirm this hypothesis.

~ Elisabeth

this writing looks like fun kinda like how i am. i think Elisabeth might be right that if we stop the drugs we’ll be able to come out more. oh i do hope so. by Lisa

Okay, hold on to your pants now because you’re all sounding like a bunch of nutcases! Yeah, we can stop all those fucking drugs, but remember, she may disappear completely, then what? Rob

Alright everyone, please settle down. My statement was only meant to garner conversation and the possibility only of stopping the medications. I must remind everyone that the last time Cathie was not on this cocktail of prescriptions, the vote was taken inside with the majority agreeing to end the body’s life, which would include Cathie. I for one am not amenable to this idea whatsoever. I believe this medication reduction should be looked upon as an opportunity for all of us to regroup and commence working as a team once again with the hopes of including Cathie. Remember, that is what this blog is for…a means of communication between all of us and Cathie. We’ve had enough of the name calling, death wishes, self harm and sheer exhaustion from fighting one another. I would ask that we convene tomorrow afternoon in the theatre to set forth some plans and restart a democratic operation via voting. There will be no excuse for not attending this meeting. I have Mary on board with this and she has volunteered to check all rooms to ensure 100% attendance.

Cathie, we extend this invitation to you as well. Would you please respond if possible? – Elisabeth

We’re all happy to have found this program so we can have different fonts and colours throughout our writing. ~ All Of Us

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