Image from the Fragmented Mind Website

“Distinguishing Between Depersonalization and Derealization
I suffer from both DP and DR. Others describe suffering from one or the other or with some fluctuation between the two. In simplest terms the difference between DP and DR are as follows:

Depersonalization – A distortion in how one’s own body and Self feel.

Derealization – A distortion in how the external world is perceived.” http://www.dreamchild.net/cacmydp.html

“Brain Abnormalities Common in Survivors of Childhood Abuse
Martin H. Teicher, M.D., McLean Hospital, Belmont, Massachusetts
Cerebrum 2000;2:50-67.
“‘Early abuse molds the brain to be more irritable, impulsive, suspicious, and prone to be swamped by fight-or-flight reactions that the rational mind may be unable to control….To a brain so tuned, Eden itself would seem to hold its share of dangers.’”   http://www.dreamchild.net/cactheory.html

∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞  ∞

Shit.  Oprah. 

While I’ve not watched her show for probably 5 years, and even then it was quite rare, she did say something to the effect of “You have to name it to claim it”.

So, I’m always looking for ways to name “it”.  “It” keeps me from having a healthy relationship from just about everyone.

Recently, I “came out” to my sister, Rayanne, about the fact that, although I was able to maintain “normalcy” on an outer level, I’m in the process of losing something, and trying to figure out what “it” is.  I texted her (since that is the best way to get through to her currently) the following:

my brain

my condition is not just “in my head”–it is part of me that i cant simply shake off. i have chronic complex PTSD w delayed onset, exhibiting symptoms including depression, disassociative tendencies, fear of rejection, being easily startled, destructive behaviours, flashbacks, involuntary reaction to real or perceived stimuli, emotional numbing, avoidance, among other things.  The PTSD has chemical, behavioural, psychological, conditioned, and subconscious roots. it’s onset was gradual and i sensed it for a long time, but i was in denial about the symptoms i’ve been having for years.  PTSD causes actual neurobiological changes in the brain.  

This was after several other texts back and forth, and all of these arose out of a fight I started about the fact that I felt isolated and rejected (because of a number of reasons, which I won’t get into now).  Bottom line, I was drunk and tired of her dismissing me.  The next morning, after much drama, of course, I had texted this message:

stats

I’m sober. A few stats. 1 = #times [regina/my mother] tried to apologize for exploiting me. 1800= #times [dennis/my stepfather] fucked me. 400= #times [dennis] molested me while u were in the same room +/or bed. YES I’M BITTER AND A BIT CRAZY BUT I DO LUV U. 4015= #nights i listened to make sure you were safe from him.

So, earlier today, I came across a new term.  I’ve labeled myself as experiencing depersonalization and dissociation,  but DEREALIZATION has given me a whole new perspective.  I am in a chronic and nearly permanent state of derealization, and have been for quite some time now.  To some degree, I’ve been this way for probably 25 years.

I feel like as long as I contemplate my state, I can’t fall into craziness, since to be mad you don’t realize you are mad.  So, instead, I feel like I am egocentric in order to keep as sane as possible.

 “Proverbs of Hell” Plate 10, The Marriage of Heaven & Hell

by William Blake; The William Blake Page

“You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.” –William Blake, Marriage of Heaven and Hell

By pure serendipity, I came across this Blake quote in the latest book I am going to attempt to read (The King of Methlehem by Mark Lindquist).  Although at this point my good friend I refer to in my prior post about the drunken mistake I made with her and her boyfriend (I’ll call her Sadie and her boyfiend I’ll call Kris) has seemed to digest the events a bit more and seems to see them as “the drunken mistake” rather than a planned tryst, I am still battling the sides of me who are also trying to categorize and bury that night.  There was a fine line between enough and too much, and we definitely crossed that line and then defiled it a bit as well. 

I am really disappointed in myself.  My progess as a survivor is so non-linear.  I feel like I exist in a labyrinth that continually shifts and changes so that logic and memory and experience cannot help me find my way out.  I know the way out…Icarus and Daedalus have given survivors that clue, but they’ve also warned us that even in freedom there is the danger of excess–perhaps ESPECIALLY in freedom there is the danger of excess.

so, for starters, I am naturally long-winded. Sorry–I talk a lot in my head.

 I hate how every story I have is so complicated. I’m going to try to simplify this one right now, and I suppose my motivation for posting, though not clear to me, is for a bit of acknowledgement that I’m not so very unique…

the basic basics are that I was about 7 or 8 when my father (much later revealed to me as being my STEP father) began raping me several times weekly for many years–maybe until I was about 14 or so, and then I think semi-regularly for a few more years after that, I believe until I was about 16 or so.

Every year of my life (i am now 32), that part of my life gets cloudier and cloudier as far as ages go, but images in my head and memories in my body don’t seem to fade much. I’m married, have been for 10 years.

I’ve had a number of self-destructive indiscriminate sexual experiences over the years, and yes, that includes the fact that this means I’ve cheated on my husband. Usually, alcohol is involved. I managed to put myself in a situation where I was raped one evening, being the total genius that I am. For about 3 or 4 years, I’ve managed to keep myself out of situations where I have come to know I am vulnerable to this type of behavior.

But now I’ve messed up, badly. I let myself become part of a drunken night spent with a friend and her boyfriend–which seemed fine and relatively “safe” early on, but after much time and many drinks they began to mess with each other’s heads and somehow I became involved in some sexual play that ended up with my friend (who is also a survivor, and is prone to self-destructive behavior) giving her boyfriend permission to have sex with me—a question he initiated, and a decision I really don’t know if I had much of a part of–I can’t remember.

I recall them discussing something, and I lost track of things and I remember laying there and trying to figure out why my friend had left the area and why her glasses were still there. She also does not remember very much, and now everything is confusing. I know I should have never allowed myself to get into the situation in the first place because of my past history, and I know I could have found some way to get out, but I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, including the fact that I thought, at the time, that she wanted me to do it…

Honestly, at that point, I felt more like an observer to the entire thing. Now, she is angry she let herself be in the situation, angry at her boyfriend for initiating everything, angry and distrustful of me (although she admits on some level she knows she and I are similar in our disassociative nature). I will not put myself in this situation with her again, but more than anything I am afraid she won’t be able to fully trust me (and hell, I can’t trust myself—but that’s not entirely the point).

I want to maintain a friendship with her– I just don’t know if this is going to happen, and given that I have a hard time making friends in the first place–especially those that I can speak candidly about my childhood, I really want to be able to get past this. Intellectually, I think she can get through this, but the fact that her very good friend has had sex with her boyfriend is a bit much emotionally for her—I HATE THIS.

It was not about him at all–I have major boundary issues, and wanted to make her happy and being trashed, I thought I was doing just that (I REALLY HATE how this sounds running through a sober mind and through sober fingers.) Even more, I can’t believe I’ve let myself put my marriage in danger again–I haven’t even begun to explore this in my mind, as everything is still so surreal, as this only happened 3 days ago, and I can’t grasp it very well yet. I don’t really want to grasp it.

Everytime my husband leaves for work, I think about how much he’d hurt if he found the degree to which I’m damaged and keep damaging myself. It’s easier to focus on my potential loss of a friendship and pretend that my being a cheating wife is something happening to a whole separate part of myself.