Are we a lost cause? It sure seems that way.
We reach out for help, and it’s like no one hears us. Amilia reaches out, and because she can’t speak, no one listens. She wants to go back to expressing her pain in other ways.
What will it take for people to listen?
I can’t speak so I express my pain in other ways. I haven’t cut in like 2 years, but I really want to do it tonight. I want to get rid of the food we just ate. It would be like getting rid of the feelings because I don’t want to deal with them. I need support.
So, we just had therapy. We discussed the fact that even through everything that I or the others have done to try and kill the body, we are still alive. He told me that I need to acknowledge that I and others, (thghgh sometimes not everybody) have the will to keep fighting and that we are still surviving after everything we’ve been through. He also said that we can’t expect professionals who haven’t been helpful in the past to suddenly change and do what they’re supposed to do. He the is so much stigma and that we’re not going to erase it all. He wants me to draft a document that we have made as a plan so that if we have to go to the ER we can show it to the doctors. He encouraged me that I would prevail and that recovery has its ups and downs. He says that no one is perfect and I can’t hold myself to standards that are to high for me to meet. He wants me to make a daily goal in regards to the eating, but if I don’t meet it, he wants me to accept it for what it is. He says we take each day as it comes.
I’m in need of support. Things with me and the system are in chaos. Struggling with anxiety and depression. I’m not ok. One thing I learned in therapy is “It’s ok not to be ok.” We really need as much support as possible. You can email us using the contact form on the front page.
Knife to skin. I want the sweet release of the blood flowing down my arm. One cut isn’t enough. I want more. I want to go deeper and deeper. I just want to cut out all the pain, all the shame, all the hurt. I want people to se how much I hurt. I want peace, peace from the pain, peace forever. I’ve done this before, but Ray doesn’t know about it. I’ve kept it from her. I stole her brother’s pocketknife. I hope she doesn’t hate me for it. I took the abuse most of the time from her grandparents. She heard the words, but I took the beatings. I meant well, but now I feel ashamed for scarring her body.
Cynthia age 15
So, we had therapy today, and it was hard. We talked about me raising the number of calories I take in each day. We also discussed getting Rayette on board with getting unstuck from the trauma and getting oriented to the present. I think she will be shocked to realize that 25 and a half years have passed. He’s going to do this slowly over time. He also wants me to log the times I come back and realize that time was lost. I told him that the reason I take in 600 calories a day is because of the cult stuff, and he said he wants to work on breaking that association with food and the cult so we can be healthy physically. He’s basically getting to know us. He’s going to call the director of the ER to see about maybe letting me use my iPOD in the unit if I get admitted because of the fact that the group handouts are all in print. I told him there was an app on my iPod that I could use to take a picture of the printed material and it would read it to me. We talked about self-harm and how that Amilia does it because she can’t speak, so she’s communicating her pain in a physical way. So that was therapy.
Here’s a song that made me think of all survivors, and people with mental illness (eating disorders, dissociative disorders and PTSD)
She holds her dear life to the end of the sleeves in her hands
Covering up lies that she wrote with a razor sharp pen
But the steel of the blade
Is no match for the pain
Of the loneliness she’s going through
But we’ve all been there to.
Praise God we don’t have to hide scars
They just strengthen our wounds
And they soften our hearts
They remind us of where we have been
But not who we are
We don’t have to hide scars.
This song made me think of all survivors. 😊
So, I’m tired of the staff telling me that I need to suppress my alters or that they don’t exist…. I just wish I could make them understand that I’m trying to get my point across to them…. I hate that they tell me that my alters don’t exist….
So, I’m tired of staff at my facility telling me to suppress my alters or to “Not play that game with them.” I’m tired of the nightmares and flashbacks… I’m just tired of everything….. Looking forward to leaving here in a few months. I’m going to call the place I’m going to on Monday to ask them a bunch of questions…..I’m going to ask them how they deal with BPD, self-harm, and dissociative identity disorder. I want to thank my readers for continuing to read my blog. It really means a lot to me.
So, today I’m on fifteen minute checks. Having suicidal thoughts… Wishing I could just escape this pain… So the night before last, I ended up cutting. I was put one to one with a staff member. They gave me Ativan as a PRN yesterday. Hope it works. If anyone has any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment below.