Scattered pieces

It’s become obvious that I’ve been withdrawing from everything lately.  It always starts slowly… I’ll sit at my desk, rather than go out with the others for breaks at work; I’ll leave the car out with the intention of going to take photos, but end up putting it away a few hours later because I’m “too tired” or it’s now “too dark” to take photos.  I wasn’t really sure why I’ve been withdrawing, or rather, which particular stressor was causing the withdrawal.  I only knew that is was happening.  Yesterday, I moved one step closer to eliminating one stressor – the dissolution of my marriage.  The laws in New Zealand require you to have been separated from your partner for two years before you can dissolve the marriage (get a divorce).  That milestone was up on 14 February of this year.  So we took the papers to the Family Court to start the official process… it was an interesting trip which caused the activation of ones that hadn’t been present for quite some time.

We took two hours off work to take the papers to court, thinking that would be plenty of time for the fairly simple matter of handing over some papers and paying a fee… how wrong was I!

It started off well… we went into the Family Court reception and were served by the nice lady who took our Protection Order application nearly two years ago.  She checked the forms, notarized them where it was appropriate and double checked that none of our personal details appeared on the forms to protect us from any contact from the husband.  Then we asked some seemingly innocent questions about what would happen next… in particular asking about how he was to be notified of the dissolution when we didn’t know where he lived…  This is where the smooth operation came to a screaming halt.

“What do you mean you don’t know where he lives?”  The slightly stunned clerk asked…
“Well, we actively try to avoid knowing anything about him because of the Protection Order.”
“So, what’s this address here…” as she points to the address we’ve listed.
“That’s his lawyers address.”  We reply, thinking it makes perfect sense to serve the papers to his lawyer.
“You can’t serve the papers to his lawyer, it has to be him in person.”
“But… I have no idea where he is.”
“You need to try and find him.”

At this point, the clerk confers with another worker about the situation and asks what my options are…  Meanwhile we’re dissociating, spinning and trying to keep it together despite the internal chaos… we can’t find him… don’t make us have to find him… don’t make us talk to him or his family again…

After a rather convoluted discussion, the clerk comes back to tell us that we have to try and find him through any means necessary; but if we can’t, we can fill in another form to say that the papers can be served on his parents…  But we still need someone to serve them… Someone over 18 to serve the papers to them in person…  Someone would have to go to his parents house, knock on the door and give the papers to them…

This news brought another round of dissociation and internal noise… we can’t go to the witch’s house… she hates us… she’ll yell at us… please don’t make us!

Thankfully another woman yelled out that we could pay someone from the court where they live to serve the papers on our behalf…

This just left the problem of trying to find him!  So off to the public library we went, looking for electoral roles…  We walked there thinking it would be quicker than taking the car, but on the way there was all sorts of activation by different parts… Can we buy a toy?  Oh look, a sale!  Can we go see that movie?  That’s a pretty dress. The desire to get sidetracked was immense… there was so much panic about trying to find the husband.  With each comment, suggestion or pull, M tried to assure each one that we would go back later, but that we really needed to find the husband to make us all safe.

We found that the husband hadn’t changed his details official details from when he lived with us.  We tried telephone directories and the Internet, but couldn’t find him.

There was another round of attempted distractions on the way back to court, but M deflected each one.  When we returned to court, we filled in even more paperwork to say that we’d tried to find the husband.  All the while, the internal noise was getting louder and louder.

It was only when we were driving away that the noise quietened.  So much so, that by the time we got to a toy store, to keep the promise of buying something later, all the young ones had gone quiet.

On the surface, I can see the noise and chaos was an indication of our stress about the situation.  But, I think it goes deeper than that.  It was about our fear of having to do anything to do with him, fearing possibly having to see him again, fear that he will react when he gets the papers…  It’s also about dissolving the marriage, and therefore admitting we made a mistake in getting married… it’s an indication of our failure.

I still feel the anxiety, disconnection and withdrawal from life… I don’t quite know how to ease that.  I’ve tried making an appointment with my psychiatrist to get a review of my medication, but need ACC approval and funding before I can go – which means it could be several months before I get in to see him.  This week, I’m wanting to quit therapy…  I cancelled Jo and have come close to cancelling Liz several times.  Everything about therapy annoys me at the moment – trying to talk, all of Liz’s responses, her making us draw when we retreat and can’t talk…

We found this photo called Just Red by Burning Image… it’s a good representation of how we’re feeling…

I know through work many intelligent, creative and talented people. This is the invitation to an exhibition by one of those people…

Mark is an incredibly talented designer and artist.  The image used for the invitation is the design of an old school book.  When he gave it to me, I remembered all the good times of sitting in class, ignoring all the other rubbish that was going on in my life and concentrating on the work in front of me.  I wouldn’t want to go back to those times, but this image brought back a time in my life where I could escape into learning.  That escape was my lifeline…

Today, I’m thankful for that reminder.

We’re at a loss for words.  We don’t know what to say anymore, to anyone.  This isn’t about writers block, or anything to do with not having anything to say, it’s about not knowing how to say anything.  As a way to try to break out of this pattern, we did some free thinking/word association and came up with the following Wordle image…

It was interesting to see how often we repeated some of the words – we wrote one word per line for two pages.  While the words could be taken several ways, they are all an indication that we’re getting closer to the edge.  We’re trying any way to distract and find ways to cope in the moment.

It’s now Christmas Day in New Zealand – 2.30am on Christmas Day to be exact.  Aimee desperately wants to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a safe holiday.

We know that this time of year can bring pain to survivors of abuse and those from dysfunctional families… Our hope is that those painful memories are eased and positive traditions are created.

Take care of you and yours this holiday season,
CG

So much of my time is caught up in the moment.  I’m only aware of the here and now, I have no past and no future.  Some would consider this living a mindful life, but I think that it’s the opposite.  When I only exist in the moment I forget all consequences and everything I’ve learned.  My ability to reflect on the past fades away, so I find it hard to put the moment into a meaningful context.  In many ways, it is living a life of mindlessness, lurching from one moment to the next with no connect between them.  Life becomes disjointed, rather than harmonious.  Internally, I get treated to a series of billboards detailing what has happened in the previous moments.  It’s a highly dissociative experience, and one I’m experiencing more and more.

It’s interesting being caught in the moment.  You don’t care about anything…  It doesn’t matter if people trample all over your boundaries…  It doesn’t matter if they hurt you with words…  It doesn’t matter what happens to your body… It will all be forgotten in the next moment.

Tried a system reboot, but got…

Ivory mentioned in her blog about making new traditions around important dates – Christmas in particular.  I also need to do this, to shake off the rubbish from the past and get out of the loop of negativity and repeating patterns that I find myself in.  She mentions sharing a Christmas story and recipe that has meaning or tradition for us.  Being in the Southern Hemisphere where Christmas tends to be a very hot day, our traditions revolve around a barbie (bar-be-que) and pavlova…

Here’s the recipe for this deliciously light dessert…

4 egg whites
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup castor sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
1 teaspoon white vinegar
2 teaspoons cornflour (cornstarch)

Preheat the oven to 150°C.
Beat egg whites and salt in a bowl until soft peaks form. Gradually add the castor sugar while beating. Continue until stiff peaks form. Beat in the remaining ingredients, vanilla essence, vinegar and cornflour. Turn mixture out onto a baking paper covered tray. Shape into a circle approximately 23 cm (9 in) in diameter.

Reduce oven temperature to 140°C. Bake for 15 minutes, then further reduce the oven temperature to 120°C and bake for 1 ¼ hours. Cool completely in the oven with the oven door ajar.

Top with whipped or brandy cream and your choice of fresh fruit – traditionally strawberries, kiwifruit and a sprinkle of icing sugar.

There is debate over whether the pavlova was first made in New Zealand or Australia, but we consider it a New Zealand dish :)

As for a story or tradition, possibly my favourite Christmas memory is making home-made Christmas crackers with my Nanna (grandmother).  We were on holiday in Okiwi Bay, sitting around the kitchen table picking out presents for each person, adding the popper tape and wrapping them up in paper.  It was simple fun and the presents in each cracker were so much better than the ones you get in the store brought Christmas crackers.

My past isn’t always painful…

Like many survivors, I learned from an early age that people weren’t to be trusted – a smile could hide other motives, laughter could mean that someone was heading towards drunkenness, etc.  I also learned that people I considered friends could, and would, set me up for abuse in order to save themselves.  These friends were also victims, but that betrayal of trust isolated us further.  A result of these early betrayals, is a range of behaviours that could be classed as avoidant – I avoid people, attachments and social situations.

These avoidant traits have been with me for so long that it’s hard to imagine a world without them.  I was described as a loner during my childhood, and now I have no one that I would consider a friend to share basic things such as go to the movies or to go for a coffee.  It is rare for me to feel any regret or worry over this isolation – which has made me question whether it truly is an indication of an avoidant personality, or just my natural inclinations…  The online world however, is slightly different.  I have people that I’ve known online for over two years and consider them friends.  Sometimes I help them, sometimes they help me – there is some form of mutual benefit in the relationship that goes beyond any tangible value.

This brings me to last night, which was a particularly rough night for me – I was sad, needing to self-injure and feeling lost.  Thankfully one of my online friends was available to chat.  As I’ve never had a friend who has understood me in the past, I’m never sure if the reactions I experience when chatting with an online friend is “normal” within the context of friendships.  Last night, my friend and I were trying to describe the experience, we decided that it was like getting a warm safe hug from someone – there is a feeling of being safe, protected, understood and as if there was a buffer to cushion you against any hurt.  This feeling makes both of us smile, with our respective younger parts feeling safe to come forward to play, tease and have fun.  I have other online friends who I feel a similar sense of comfort and safety that don’t trigger the presence of the younger parts, but this particular friend does.  The main result of the younger parts being present, is a sense of freedom and joy – something that is very foreign to me when talking to anyone.

I know that I have done entries in here about friends in the past.  But one thing I’ve learned is that you can never take friendship for granted.  It’s something to be valued, cultivated and be thankful for.  If they are good friends, then this will be reciprocated – not necessarily in blog entries, but in more subtle and meaningful ways – asking how you are and pausing for an answer… listening to what is being said and responding appropriately…  These little things add up to that feeling of being valued as a person with an opinion that matters.  This is also why I value the comments I get on this blog.  They a little snippets from people who have taken the time to respond to something that caught their interest.  I try not to take that for granted, but also not be fawningly grateful :)

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Now playing: Brooke Fraser – Scarlet
via FoxyTunes

I’m struggling…  struggling to maintain the feeling of being alive and being an adult.

Tomorrow I go to the funeral of my cynical work friends husband.  He died on Sunday after a year of battling cancer.  I unsuccessfully researched the guilt associated with someone who is suicidal continuing to live, while someone who was in love and loved life dies a horrible death.  There seems a great injustice in that scenario.  When I mentioned it to Liz on Monday, she came very close to talking about religion again, but squeaked by with the “there must be a reason” line.  I’m at a loss as to what that reason is.

We’ve been asking M to do a majority of the work and I think this might be part of the reason why we’re struggling.  M is incredibly functional, focused and driven; but she comes with the baggage of addiction issues which can harm the rest of us.  I’m not sure how to break through this barrier that we seem to have up.  I’m not sure if it is the time of year causing the problem (Wedding Anniversary, ex-husbands birthday and Christmas are approaching).  It could also be the work environment which is still negative and emotionally draining.

I suppose the big problem is that I was hoping the time off work would help to ease these issues, but it hasn’t.  Maybe I was hoping for another quick fix…  I’m realising that quick fixes don’t seem to exist within mental health.

Over the weekend we saw the first Spring lambs.  They were bouncing all over the field, looking so cute and carefree.  All Sophie could hear is Katie saying “lambies” over and over.  It’s amazing how quickly we can have a trigger experience for something wonderful.  It is usually associated with something that Katie sees, we suddenly feel this sense of joy and wonder come across the body.  She’s incredibly focused on the item and we can block out everything else.  It’s an amazing feeling.

Katie is heavily protected and only comes forward when Sophie is present.  This means that when we’re at our most dysfunctional, Katie is well hidden within our internal house.  But when she is present, it can be a shock for the rest of us.  M has come back to find a child’s cupcake on our lunch tray, or found herself arms deep in a bin of Mushabellies :)  Which considering the quiet dignified nature of M, was rather amusing…

When we’re in the depths of our denial about DID, or when we read the sometimes negative information about littles, this behaviour is like a reality check for us.  There is no way that M would voluntarily let herself get arm deep in squeaky toys.  But it is something that a 3 nearly 4 year old would do in a heartbeat.  Sometimes it’s hard to understand that this brain can hold the wonder and joy that Katie can experience, as well as the dark depths held by those in The Basement.

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Now playing: Brooke Fraser – Waste Another Day
via FoxyTunes