Posted by Stephan on March 27, 2010 under My Personal Therapy | 
Do I need to talk to someone? I’m not shure. I’m in a state between wanting to open up and .. not wanting. Nice thing about that is that I usually don’t have a problem describing stuff I am dissociated from. At least I just realised that my morning pain has stopped. Tip of the day: Do not get uncureable ill. It will just screw up your whole life. I don’t even know what kind of life I would have chosen if I would never gotten ill. Which happend when I was a little child. Some parts are screaming. I do not really know about what. I can’t always translate what they want.
I don’t know if I hate my life. Do I regret? What do I regret if I regret. Theoretically my life isn’t that bad. I don’t have to work and since I do not spend much I have more money than I need to survive. More or less. Not enough money to buy myself healthy. Meaning I could die from my illnesses if I don’t pay attention all the time. If I would let go of everything and start eating and drinking everything I want I could probably die a horrible death within some months. But the money aspect might change. But. There are some problems. What if I have all the money I need to do and buy all the stuff for my well being I need … and still wont get healthy? What then? Or if I get healthy. What do I do then? Will I be able to get over my posttraumatic stress disorder? Will I be able to loose my parts? To feel again? The screaming gets louder. I think they don’t like it because there are so many things I haven’t got an answer too. Not the what if rubbish. I wasn’t talking about what really concerns me. Well some of the stuff does but it’s not important stuff at the moment. I can’t write about the important stuff. Now.
I hate being screwed up. I’d like to scream. But. I wont.
Do I feel better now that I haven’t really talked about what’s concerning me. I guess not. Screw this blog. Screw everything.
Posted by Stephan on March 24, 2010 under Me Thinking, My Personal Therapy |
Some stuff I’ve written is bugging me. It wasn’t written clear enough making it too easy to misinterpret my meaning. And people can misinterpret about everything. So stuff should be worded as clear as possible to minimize that chance. If wanted, that is.
I was talking about taking sides, in the example of my family and generally. But it was not about making a decision on the conscious level. Taking sides itself was formulated wrong, more like standing up for.
Diffucult to find a good point to start. One big cause why I write this is because the part of the family I mentioned was always nice to me and I don’t want to put a wrong complexion on them. Since I am dissociated, for me this is only human behavior, just another variable among others, making it difficult sometimes to phrase things for those who don’t quite see things like I do. Like I’ve written as if it was about a conscious choice making some stuff sound sarcastic altough it was just laying down plain facts for me. Or theories.
People usually act different when a situation is explained to them and they make a decision based on that information. But choices are made nevertheless. Take children starving in the third world, how animals are treated to produce all the food made from them, children being trashed or raped and other stuff like that. All things that are just “too far away” to really concern you. They get blended away most of the time. That’s one of the causes why people than overreact that much when something like that gets big in the news for a while. It has nothing to do with them so it is ok to act indignent. Because it is save to do so. But I have to end now because my parts are getting uncomfortable with the subject.
Posted by Stephan on March 22, 2010 under Me Thinking, My Personal Therapy |
Although I was just recently thinking about deleting everything I’ve writen again, there just came something up I have to get off my chest.
The thought process startet when I realised that there is a way of feeling that I haven’t felt for a very long time now. To be precise a negative kind of feeling. There are some positive ones I haven’t felt for a long time neither but I don’t wanna think about that right now. But back to the negative one. I only felt this feeling when I had contact with my family … the bad part of it. And the last time I felt it was when I last seen them. It is the feeling of my parts freaking out. Well they do so without any contact too but not that intense. Like the difference between remembering a lion and standing right in front of one. And to my parts that’s exactly what the bad part of my family were to them - pretators. Beings you should be afraid of, pumping stress hormons into the body and being alert like hell, because you can never tell what they will do next.
But it only started there. The next thing I remembered was my time at the psychosomatic compartment at the hospital. I finally connected it to another problem. It was the same shit when I was send to therapists when I was a teenager. The message was that I was the psychopath. Not them. The stupid head doctor of the compartment even dared to judge me as a possible risk to others. That is just another nice sign of how sick our society really is. This doctor didn’t had a clue about me. Not. One. Single. Clue. Yes there has been a lot of aggression and hate inside me, which of course showed up. But I had spent years exercising to control them. Even then I already knew how to fight them, how to channel them into something else like destroying unimportant stuff or self injury. And I knew that out on the streets there where really really lot of people counting as normal with not even half the self control I had even then. And since then 8 years have past and the only things I did were some messages I left. Maybe devastating messages but no physical force. Unlike them.
And right there is the problem. The message was again. Something is wrong with you. Not with them. You can’t be trusted. Those people who snapped all the fucking time are alright. They don’t need to be here, you do. All they did was trashing little children and teenagers. Who cares about that? Socially viewed it is not very important. It is only a small peccadillo. That’s just how it is. If you can go to work and pay your taxes and play the role of a respected member of society, it is not important that you trash your children at home. Problems only occur if those children, as a result of the trashing, are to messed up to be able to play the role of a respected member of society. And if that happens they are the problem, not the people who trashed them. Our society as a whole just thinks shortsighted like that. Not only concerning this matter but about a lot of other very important stuff too.
There are a lot of important factors playing a role here, so you can dig deeper if you like. People doing the trashing (or whatever) of little kids usually have a higher status and more influence than the now grown up messed up psychological disturbed person. The have more money, they can afford the better laywers and so on. For example my family. And for this example I will take a branch that is not that close to me. The one of my aunt. Her husband, her children. What would they get if they would side with me? Nothing but trouble. After all I am mentally disturbed, I can’t leave my flat, I’m terminally ill (that’s what the doctors told me at least), can only eat certain foods and I have certain views about my parents and some of my siblings they neither want to share or even hear anything about. If they side with my parents it looks rather different. My parents are seen as respected members of society. My father was something high at the police, my mother was a secretary and is now doing a lot of work around my grand-someting-aunt Helene Maria Restituta Kafka who was beatified and helping out the nuns around this thingy. Of course my aunt doesn’t want to have a picture of my mother in her head as a raging and screaming monster trashing children. She has her own problems and in my mother someone to talk to. On bigger family gatherings my parents and the children coming along with them are an important part of the social group that is coming together on those occasions. And some of my cousins have children too. When my mother is holding them they don’t want to think of her as a children hitting monster. Whereas I was usually always only an attachment to my parents, not playing an important role at those occasions and couldn’t even attend because of my illness. I can’t blame them for taking side with my parents. Well I can. And I do. But that’s because of the general view. Let me explain. In the general view this kind of behavior adds taint to our sick and tainted society and makes it what it is. If I see it like that generally I can’t make an exception only because I consider them as nice. And it’s not an emotional kind of blaming but more of an intellectual blaming. A pointer to where part of the problem lies. After all there where only an example for the general behavior. In the very very very most cases people act exactly like that. Again. Our whole society works that way. It is understandable, but that doesn’t make it good. It is one of those disturbing aspects of society, were the picture society has of itself and how it is acting in reality are very different things. Even nice people and the doctors who are there to help you add to it. Maybe not all but definitly most of them. At least some people are adding more good stuff than negative stuff to it or so I’d like to think.
To add something positive at the end. I haven’t had a major breakdown for some time now. Long enough to be remarkable. I can’t remember a time where I felt that good that long. Well I still have smaller breakdowns and pain and still can’t leave my flat that easily but it’s a start at least. It could be much worse … and it was. So there is that. And that is it.
Posted by Stephan on March 13, 2010 under My Personal Therapy |
You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O’Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?
(Fight Club)
But I don’t really need to wake up as a different person. I only need to be able to lie to myself about myself, good enough for myself to believe it. You are a healthy person without problems, living in a nice and friendly world, where everything makes sense.
Theoretically, it can’t be that difficult. People are doing it all the time. Of course you are hitting your children because you love them and they earned it and it wasn’t your fault at all! Yes you are a good and nice person. The best boss there is. Of course you are right and everyone else is wrong! Your IQ might be a two digital number but yes if you repeat your stupid thoughts often enough everyone will see how intelligent you are!
Well it’s not that I never lied to myself or that I’m not still doing it. But I know that I am cracy. And everyone you does it must be crazy too. Being human means being crazy … and dumb. Especially living in our society leaves only two options - being totally crazy and lying to yourself or being enlightened.
Lying is an essential part of our society. Really really essential. This has been scientific proved. Children without the ability to like are considered rude outsiders - they couldn’t fit in. Though shallt not lie! - one of the ten commandments. Uh there are a lot of so called christians going to hell … at least in their believe system. But they usually don’t realise that because they are lying to themselfs. One of the requirements of being a christian in the first place. Ha! My parts just brought me a memory. I managed to make my mother cry once. Only. By. Talking. I logically explained her that by looking at her actions and her words, that she either is a very bad christian or no christian at all. Oh that was sooo much fun! A fond and treasured memory of my parts. I wish I could grap into her psyche and pull every bad thing she has done up to the surface where she just has to look at it. She would either break down or try to kill herself on the spot, so like a win win situation. The beauty of it would be that it is legal, not following any punishment from the law and I would get a big bonus from my parts. They would love that. Well they are the ones with the memories of being hit and .. stuff. I only know very little about that. Most of my actual memories about that stuff is locked away, but I know my parts remember that stuff. My poor parts. But I probably wouldn’t do it even if I could. Bad Karma and stuff. Ha it’s probably even bad karma only thinking about that stuff. But the thought has entertained my parts so it was worth it.
It is very difficult to say if my mother was a bad person. Well chances are very big that she doesn’t think of herself as being a bad person. And I know that she was and is a very stupid and crazy person. She probably meant well. But the outcome of her deeds are the ones of a bad person. And I know that there is only one person she really really cares about, and that is she herself. She would sacrifice everyone else if that meant that she might save herself.
But that’s a good example of how difficult it is to be positive and how impossible it is to keep the negative stuff out, since I intentionally wanted to write about something else. It’s also very difficult to be an ethical person. I did some bad stuff like the one I mentioned above. Well I was younger and a grown up that can’t react against the logical reasoning of a teenager is just a dumb shit. And she did some very bad things to … my parts. But to say she earned it, is a judgment that just can’t be done. Well it can but it wouldn’t be right to do so. I know it that wasn’t nice and that it wasn’t good. And I know that because I judged it that way. Oh and it might have been good. All things considered I don’t know if it was bad or good. But it wasn’t nice that’s for shure. Good and bad are after all only a human invention. So is “nice” but that’s easier to grade. Telling someone the truth might not be nice but it can be good in the long run. Again I reached the possibilities of words to express stuff I am thinking. And. I’m bored out writing.
Posted by Stephan on under My Personal Therapy |
This comparison came to my mind when I was thinking about my situation with my parts. I don’t know why Troja, but it is like a siege. Neither of us can really make a move. If there is something one of us doesn’t want the other to do there is no way that it will be done. Like if I want to go somewhere outside. They can just shut down entire parts of my body. Usually they fill my knees, my arms and my back with panic and depression. I often wonder how a dissociative identity disorder feels like. I wish I could control my dissociation more. If I could I would just create an entire new self to deal with everything. From the view of chinese medicin there is one part missing. The most important part that should govern the system. Well not missing, it’s just not doing its job. I have to do it. But since it is not my real job in the system I fail. Not entirely. But like the situation in Troja. I think the parts would listen to the missing part. He would be able to bring peace into the system. But he isn’t doing anything. I wish I could do the same. Then all there would be left of me would be the parts. And I have no idea how that would work out. I’m tired.
Posted by Stephan on March 7, 2010 under My Personal Therapy |
There are some nice and helpful aspects about writing a blog. It can help to get things out of the system and writing can also be supportive for thinking processes. Another thing is that I don’t actually have to write. I often think about stuff I want to write down, but then in the process of writing in my own head it clears itself and I don’t actually have to write it down anymore.
Of course I wouldn’t need a blog to do that, but it helps a lot. Like when you talk to another person in your mind. Theoretically you don’t need the other person to do so, but without the actual expirience of talking to another person, it would be rather hollow. So writing in my real blog gives the writing in my head its substance.
An interesting aspect for me is that some of the stuff I end up not writing down, might be interesting or even helpful for other people, but I do not feel eloquent or maybe confident enough to write the stuff down only on that account. But I know that stuff that came out of me has been helpful for others on not so few occasions in the past. But there are some other aspects too.
A very important one for me is that it is so much more beautiful when it is in my head. All my thinking is much more beautiful in my head. Having to use only words to express my thoughts is like putting them in chains. After all words are just variables who stand for certain pieces of information. Very small amounts of information. Well there are words that theoretically express a big amount of information like quantenphysics. But used in a conversation usually only certain aspects are relevant which have to be explained, while in the mind the information exists in a much purer form and can be more easily accessed and combined. At least when there isn’t too much pain to think properly.
Another one I have been thinking about lately is that I stopped caring. Which is true and also false. In general it is more true I think. And I am not shure yet if it is a good or a bad thing. And it just came to my mind that I don’t really know what I do care about. People who are or have been close to me. Yes. And if someone asks me directly for help even if I do not know that person I do try to help if it is in my power … and it’s not too inconvinient for me. To be true there are situations where it would just be too inconvinient not to help.
It is really difficult to put my finger on it. I do know there was something that isn’t there anymore. I am really not very bright on the emotional level. Well mainly because “I am” not emotion. My parts are emotion and “they” are dissociated from me. Although a “whole I” would involve them too. But that is not the “I” that I am expiriencing.
Writing that post has just lost it’s flavour. That’s it.
