Scattered pieces

Note: This entry may trigger due to issues around suicide being discussed.

I’ve been fairly open about my levels of suicidal ideation on this blog over time. But the last week or so, I’ve been dancing around the subject. The reason why… on the 2nd and 3rd of August I tried to commit suicide.

I’m still trying to make sense of the attempts, and the triggers which precipitated them.

The main things I remember about Monday, are that I didn’t work my usual late shift, and that I was very tired… very, very tired. So tired, that it made perfect sense to come home, empty a pill bottle into my hand and swallow them down with a caffeine drink.

I vividly remember looking at the pile of pills in my hand, and thinking… “This will help me sleep”.

This terminology is significant… “This will help me sleep”. Usually, my suicidal ideation and intent is termed “running away”, so I wonder if the change in phrasing was an indication that different ones were driving the attempt, or whether I was just really tired?

In the past, whenever there has been even a suicidal gesture, a protector has come forward and immediately called for help. But not this time. This time, I climbed into bed and waited for sleep. That was at about 6pm. The next thing I remember, is waking in a panic at 2.45. I wasn’t panicking about the pills that were now well absorbed into my system…  Oh no, I was panicking because I wasn’t sure if it was morning or night, and I was worried about missing work!

The details are fuzzy, but somehow we ended up in ER. ER’s always seem so bright… so well lit… super bright… I know this is a medical necessity, but it’s also about our fears. We hate hospitals. We feel ourselves get smaller, younger and more tongue-tied in hospitals… It’s hard to hear what people are asking of us, and we become more robotic.

As an indication that there was still come cognitive thinking happening, we’d remembered to bring our iPhone with us. Hours of playing Boost 3D, Euchre, Hell’s Kitchen… Anything to try to keep calm! Then the unspeakable happened, the iPhone battery ran out… This tipped the scales back to crazy.

• We removed the lure ourselves and went to the nurses station, asking to leave. They took us through to the observation lounge instead. Yay… power points for recharging the iPhone :)
• WPT came and visited us in the ER, and we brushed him off… told him we were fine and not to worry about us…
• When we were assessed by the psychiatric team… I say “assessed”, but to the system, it felt like a grilling.  They asked about family relationships, abuse history etc.
• By the end of the assessment, angry protectors were up front and they ripped up the discharge papers as we walked away from the nurses station.

Yes, we were released with no follow-up or safety options mentioned.

When we got home, there was still the need to sleep. I think one of us called the crisis team, but gave a fake name… I remember the crisis person yelling at us that they were sending the Police around. This was the wrong threat to make, as it gave the protectors hope that help was on the way. They became less vigilant…

We sat down at the table with enough pills for a fatal overdose. It was very mechanical and quick. Again, there was a need to have enough pills to “get some sleep”. Once these were consumed, we went to bed. Again, a panicked waking a few hours later and a ride in an ambulance.

This time it was serious… I knew that because of the number of nurses around. I remember looking over when they took my blood pressure, and saying how good it was (53/45). Usually my blood pressure goes through the roof in hospitals due to anxiety (the next day it was 195/146). I asked if I could go home, because my blood pressure was so good, and it was all just a silly mistake…

I remember the nurses being nice.
I remember them wheeling me down corridors to a ward.
I remember a nurse sitting in a chair at the end of my bed all night.

We called the mother, asking her to come up because we needed help. Our cat needed food…

We were kept in for a couple of days, and again had a psychiatric assessment, this one was much more gentle. They asked about safety and stressors. They gave us options – they suggested hospitalisation, or respite. But the psychiatric ward was fairly full, and the respite place would be different to the one I’ve been to previously. Instead, we were released to the mother (a former nurse) at home.

The thing that blew me away about the medical ward, was their compassion and understanding. I was there for an overdose, but they didn’t judge. They had almost no knowledge of mental health issues (I had to tell them how to spell “dissociative”), but they were respectful of me as an individual…

It’s now over a week since the attempts, and I’m still on shaky ground. Last night, R was very present. I know it was him, because I could clearly see what he wanted – to be wearing just jeans, standing in the middle of the road, in the pouring rain, arms up, yelling (in pain, release, anger???).

I’m very aware that I’m still walking along the cliff edge. One little push will send me over.

It’s times like this that I realise how amazing the people around me can be… WPT came to see me in hospital (twice); while my blog friends have been a steady, calm voice of reason when I needed it desperately… thank you!

—————-
Now playing: The Freshman – The Verve Pipe
via FoxyTunes

The activity for this months Expressive Arts Carnival is to:

Use any visual means (e.g., drawing, painting, photography) to represent, in an abstract way, your experience of all or part of your internal world. The key to the activity is to focus on an abstract representation. The reason for this focus is that it helps us to describe our experiences in a way that is not so familiar to us.

First off, I’m not good with abstract thinking or art, let alone putting the two together; so this activity has proven to be a bit of a challenge.

Saying that, here are our  attempts to represent what our internal world looks like…

Internal World: Part I

This one was heavily influenced by M.  It’s a very structured view, and I think comes from her place of being a little apart from the rest of us.  I think it’s possibly more of an abstract system map, rather than a representation of our inner world.

———————————————————————————————————–

Internal World: Part II

Well, our internal world according to Aimee and K (with help from Sophie)… They like the baby moose playing, and the mother moose always watching to make sure nothing will hurt them :)

I’m not sure if this is really a representation of our internal world for a majority of us, but I think it’s accurate for these two young ones… or how they’d like it to be???  They also love the clip, so wanted an excuse to put it on the blog…

———————————————————————————————————–

Internal World: Part III

In the shadows, waiting.

———————————————————————————————————–

Internal World: Part IV

Which leads to the final representation… the one that all of us agree to some extent represents our internal world, or a very important part of it…

Shadows…  The lower left corner represents areas which are in total darkness, while the upper right corner represents areas which are flooded with light. These two extremes are linked by varying degrees of shadow intensity.

This was an interesting exercise to do… Thank you Paul for providing the prompts.

—————-
Now playing: Five For Fighting – 100 Years
via FoxyTunes

One of the hardest things that I’ve been asked to do in therapy, is imagine what my world would look like in the future when I’m “healed”… that magical point where I feel as if I determine how run my life is run. When you’re a survivor used to living moment to moment; have lived with abuse in one form or another nearly all your life; where chaos is the norm; and you find your mental health issues driving your every action… imagining a life of self-determination is difficult.  I’ve had few positive role models around me, so I have no real terms of reference for what “healthy” looks like.

So, when this months Carnival Against Childhood Abuse came out with the theme of Independence, I thought I’d challenge myself to think about what freedom (or independence) may look like.  As I’m making this challenge up, I’ve decided to go for a list of 5 things I’d like to see in a life of self-determination…

1. Free from abuse
This may sound obvious, but I have a proven history of being attracted to people who are abusive, either as friends or as partners.  So, establishing healthy relationships is a key aspect to my well-being.  This is tied to boundary, attachment and a whole raft of other issues; so I know it will take time and testing.  I’m taking baby steps with this through my online interactions…

Free from abuse, also means being free from self-injury in all of it’s forms…

2. Like who I am
I know that this should say “love” rather than “like”, but one step at a time :)
I’d like to feel comfortable in myself – my skills, abilities and who I am as a person.  To work through the shame, guilt, disgust, etc., to a point where I can look in a mirror or walk down the street with my head held high.  To not make unfair comparisons about myself, but instead, notice differences without judgement.  To value those differences in myself as much as I value them in others.

3. Trust
Trust in myself and those around me.  I realise that trust is heavily linked to points 1 and 2 above, but it’s such a big issue, I think it needs to be separated out.

I currently have little trust in my decision making… I can make decisions, but second guess myself all the time.  I’d like to get to a point where I can listen to the internal messages without fear, and act on those messages appropriately.  Usually my internal compass about people is fairly accurate, but I tend to drown it out with self-doubt.

I know that not everyone in this world can be trusted, but I’d like to be open to the possibility that some of them can be.

4. Enjoy life
I’d like to wake up in the morning, feeling positive about the day.  I realise that life will always have the natural flow of ups and downs; but I want to reach a point where I have the skills to help me ride out the negatives without it causing a downward spiral.

5. Be creative
More importantly, be creative without fear!

I think this is my main goal in life… to work towards a place where I’m not living in fear.

The inaugural edition of the Expressive Arts Carnival has been published.  Check it out at MindParts.

It’s interesting looking at the different submissions… they each tell a story about the submitters through the topic of choice, fonts, colours, arrangement of words etc.  Take a look and maybe think of submitting something yourself next time… I was scared of submitting something, but still managed it :)

I found this today… Simple and soothing.

The story of how this song came about can be found here.

This came in the mail today…

WE ARE FREE OF HIM!

Some don’t trust this piece of paper, they still expect him to come around the corner at any moment… But legally, we are no longer associated with him in any way (except for the Protection Order).

The beach has always been my retreat… my safe haven. Whenever things got out of control, I drove to the beach. I could look out over the ocean for hours on end, slowly feeling everything internally calm down. It is one of the few places where I can feel peace and a sense of safety.

So, this is my first attempt at the Expressive Arts Carnival hosted by Paul at MindParts. I’ll probably change it when I’m in a better frame of mind; but for now, this is it.

If you’re wondering why I’m posting this now, when everything is so out of control; well it sort of feels like I’ve let the side down by showing my dysfunction and weakness. Like I’m not playing the “game” of being a “survivor”. I realise this is possibly my own expectations coming into play, but there it is…

The other day I stumbled across 1000 Awesome Things.  It’s a countdown of (yes, you guessed it) 1000 awesome things…  It’s updated daily, and reading through some of the entries, it’s amazing how much of myself I can see in them… I was that shy child that hid and read late into the night…  It’s this feeling of having a shared experience, that is the basis of the blog.  It celebrates the little things, humanity, gratefulness and hope.

It’s been a tough few weeks and at times I lost all hope, but reading this blog has kicked me into thinking of things that I find awesome…

1. When you see a baby/toddler, and they do that intense stare, like they’re trying to figure you out… Then, all of a sudden, they burst into giggles and a HUGE grin lights up their face.  That’s priceless.

2. When you’ve had a bad day, you’re at an all time low, and your pet comes up and cuddles into you.

3. It’s been a really bad day, and you shut down communication with the outside world, but friends still reach out with messages of support – THANK YOU!

4. On a frosty morning, sitting on the patch of carpet that has the Sun shining down on it, while drinking Chai, and watching the birds eat the bread you threw out on the lawn.

5. Dancing in the rain.

6. Curling up on the couch, while it’s raining outside, with a blanket and a good book.

7. Being in the middle of a forest, and the only sounds you hear are the birds and the nearby river.  Watching fantails dart around is an added bonus.

8. Going into a toy store, and the younger ones come forward, so you can feel their excitement and wonder.

9. Driving home from work, and an old song you haven’t heard for ages comes on the radio, so you sing along.

10. Standing at the ocean’s edge, being soothed by the lapping waves, and tasting the salt in the sea breeze.

On another note, but still with the idea of thankfulness, today is ANZAC Day.  On this day, half a world away in 1915, was the start of the Gallipoli Campaign.  At the end of that campaign, Gallipoli was still held by the Turkish defenders, with significant casualties on both sides.  Nearly a quarter of the New Zealanders who served at Gallipoli, lost their lives.  This campaign is seen as a defining moment in New Zealand and Australian history.

Although I am a pacifist, and strongly oppose war, I am still thankful for those who fought and gave their lives.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

From the Ode of Remembrance.

Do you choose these therapists yourself?

This was a question posed by Missing in Sight to my last entry.  Hmmm… Do I choose these therapists?  Do I really?  With each new therapist, I’ve appeared to go through the motions of choosing a new therapist… I’ve called around, asked whether they’re taking new clients and mentioned my dissociative disorder as a flag.  But that’s really been the extent of my search.  Because in all honesty, I become so grateful that someone is willing to work with such a dysfunctional impossible case as myself, that I go with the first person who will take me on.

This ties into Katie’s comment about rejection and also my fear of ending relationships…  Some part of me sees an initial meeting with a therapist as a binding agreement… almost like, if we stop seeing them, we’ve failed again.  I’m not sure if it’s tied to our need to stay invisible (look, we’re so normal we can fit in anywhere), or our need to not make trouble.  I know this is all tied to the dysfunctional messages and patterns of behaviour that I learned growing up.

It seems as if I become so fearful of being rejected by a therapist, that I do almost everything possible to ensure that they won’t want to see me.  A prime example of this, was an email I sent to a potential therapist…

Hi potential therapist no.1,

Possibly before you agree to see me, I should outline the diagnoses I’ve been given over the years, so you can decide if you want to go any further.  I label myself a difficult client… yes, my dysfunction is showing already :) I’ve been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, Depression, Borderline traits (I’ve been tested, but fail to meet the criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder), Anxiety Disorder, and have chronic sleep issues.  I’ve seen four therapists in the last five years – two which were poor therapeutic fits for about 8 months each, a clinical psychologist on a short term contract through ACC and another therapist for about 3.5 years (who helped me through my abusive marriage, but didn’t have the skills to help with the dissociative and trauma issues).

So I come with baggage… I am motivated to change and will work hard at doing so, but I often don’t know how to change or what that change should look like.  I’m often stumped for words in therapy, and will sometimes get lost in the dissociation to the point where I lose most of the session.

You may wonder why I’m writing this out for you… and I know it would make most people turn the other way.  But, I’m hoping to give you an idea of the challenges I may present so you can decide whether you are able or willing to work with those.

If you are, please name a time and place and I will ensure that I am there.

Kind regards
CG

How many people would want to work with someone who emailed that to them?  Not many.  It could be seen as me trying to weed out the people who wouldn’t be able to cope with the challenges that I know I present in a therapeutic environment… but I don’t think it’s that.  It’s about setting myself up for failure and preventing the need to build up trust with yet another person.

But, potential therapist no.1 responded that she is experienced in dealing with what I present, and is willing to try and get my claim accepted under ACC.  Two other therapists have also said that they’re willing to meet with me to see if it would work.  Suddenly I have options!  I’m still a little unsure of how to do this process of therapist selection, but I’m trying to be mindful… trying to check out internally what happens when I read their emails or listen to their voice on the phone.

Today we met with potential therapist no. 2.  We talked for about 90 minutes and went over a great deal… It was scary, but also validating.  We talked about the care I’ve received in the past – what worked and what didn’t; what help I was currently receiving from the Mental Health Team and also what her approach to therapy was.  She doesn’t have any specialist DID experience, this showed with some of the wording that she used (a little clumsy).  But when I talked to her about our Polyvore work and this blog, she was interested in how we could incorporate these aspects of my healing into the therapy work she would do with me…  She talked about how I appeared to have been sort of shuffled around, and put in the “too hard” basket by many people…

It was all going really well, until she mentioned where she works as her full time job… She’s a lecturer at the same tertiary institution I work at…  There was a huge internal reaction to this news.  The whole system jolted… we’d just told this person we were DID and she worked at the same place we do.  If we went and saw her, we’d at some point have to talk about the secrets and then potentially run the risk of seeing her at work.  I’m not sure we can do that.  I don’t know if I can tell someone about my history and then smile at them over the counter later in the week as if nothing had happened.  When she found out where we work, she talked about how we could manage that, if we still wanted to see her.  She was really open and up-front about the issue, and reassured me that if we couldn’t cope with it, that deciding not to see her was not our fault…  We agreed that we’d think it over for awhile and see how it sat within the system…

We see potential therapist no.1. on Wednesday, and will call potential therapist no.3 on Monday morning to arrange a time to meet.  Since we’ve started getting people willing to work with us, it’s been interesting noticing the changes in the system… there’s anxiety about having to meet new people, but there’s also hope.  Yes, I think I’m actually feeling some hope for the first time in a long time…

Maybe I’m not such a hopeless case after all?