The Life You Save May Be Your Own

DID, knitting, sci-fi, and strong opinions

Dreams and Schemes and Plans February 26, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 11:48 pm

We’ve set a definite admission date for Thursday afternoon. I probably won’t get any sleep Wednesday night because we have to leave at 4:30 (in the morning, ick), drive 45 minutes to Springfield, and get on the train.

In my absence, Grainne of One Raison D’Etre will keep in touch with me. I’ve added her as a co-author on my blog, so she’ll probably post updates occasionally. Anyone else who wants my phone number or address there, feel free to email me.

I’m not taking my laptop and won’t be allowed to have my cell phone. I am, however, hoping they’ll let me keep my Nook. It can connect to the internet if there’s wireless available, so there’s a slight chance I might be able to post myself.

So, yeah, that’s the scoop.



Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 6:07 am

So it looks like they FINALLY have a spot for me at Sheppard Pratt. I’m going Wednesday or Thursday, depending on when I can get a train ticket and a ride to Springfield.

I’m hoping for Wednesday. Whatever day I get there, it’ll be late afternoon. If I get there Thursday afternoon, I’ll only have one full day before the weekend. Weekends in mental hospitals are usually completely dead, so I’d rather not get there just in time to sit around for two days. But it just depends on what we can arrange.

I’m packed aside from the things that can’t go in until the last minute. I have plenty of yarn and knitting projects planned, so they better not take that away from me. I bought some books for my Nook, so I really hope they let me keep that, too. If they take away the Nook AND the knitting, then I will really lose it.

Ugh, stressstressstressstressstress.


Ugh February 25, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 4:21 am
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I am fat and I want to kill myself.

And I hate myself for being such a fucking cliche.

I don’t know how to hold on for much longer. I’m not sure I see any reason.


Still Waiting February 22, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 11:58 pm
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Looks like SP probably won’t have a spot for me until the end of next week, possibly the week after next. This is so frustrating. I know they can’t know for sure when they’ll have a bed available, but I feel like they’re just stringing me along. It’s been three weeks now of “We’ll have a spot next week.” Meanwhile, my whole life is on hold. I only buy a few days worth of food at a time, and I’m coming up with lies to tell my chiropractor and my kung fu teacher about why I’ll be disappearing for weeks.

I’m also told by their admissions person that I won’t have access to my cell phone or laptop. However, I’ve heard anecdotally from two people who’ve been there that patients were allowed to have computers. I’ll take mine, but who knows if they’ll let me keep it. If you want the address or phone number to contact me while I’m there, email me or leave a comment and I’ll email you.

I will say A is growing on me as a therapist. She doesn’t always quite get me, but she’s stopped treating me like I’m oh-so-fascinating. And she doesn’t get offended when I correct her assumptions/understanding of me. I also think she’s finally getting that I don’t need her to find the edges of what I can deal with and pull me back–most of the time, I’m pretty aware of what’s too much for me.

Plus I really like her dog. Any therapist who has their dig around for therapy has to be at least a half-decent person.

I’m still really ambivalent about the ED stuff. I’m still abusing laxatives and diuretics, and I know it’s gonna get interesting when I get to SP and can’t take 20 laxatives a day. Part of me says, “That sounds like a good reason to tell them what’s going on and get help.” Then another voice says, “Fuck that shit. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing. It’s my body, and I can do whatever I want with it. I don’t need anyone to fucking fix me.” And another: “They’ll make me gain weight even though I’m not even skinny. If I eat like normal people do, I’ll get fat again because my metabolism is totally shot. Maybe if I just restrict while I’m there, they won’t notice. I can blame it on my food allergies.” And, “You know you can’t just hide pieces and expect to get better. You can’t just have a side order of self-destruction and think you’ll be okay with just that much. God, haven’t you learned that by now?”

So I don’t know what I’m going to do with that. I feel like it’s kind of out of my control–like it’ll depend on who in my system is most in control at that point. Or maybe that’s a cop-out. I don’t even know right now.


Also February 15, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 2:19 am
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In therapy today, A explained alters as “basically, walled-off archetypes.”

It’s a relief to finally have a therapist who’s worked with DID before, but that comment was just…asdfghjkl.

I don’t wanna be an archetype. They’re all mythological and shit, or else she means we’re each just a single feeling. Like the Cardboard President we used for campaign events: it looks like a real person, but only from a distance.

Can’t we be people? I think I’m a person.

If we hadn’t been in the dark and twisty place, I probably would’ve argued the point with her. If she calls us archetypes again, I probably will.




Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 2:10 am
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Sheppard Pratt will probably have a spot for me by the middle or end of next week.

Part of me says, “Finally!” Another part says, “Already?”

I’m suddenly very scared.

But I found foster care for Winston while I’m gone–the local animal shelter finds temporary foster placement in situations like ours. I took him in today for a behavioral analysis, and he passed. Really his only problem behavior is jumping on people when he gets excited–and he gets excited any time people other than me are around. It’s actually kind of cute how happy he is to meet people. If he were a smaller dog, the jumping would just be annoying, but he’s a 70 lb German shepherd/husky mix. He’s almost knocked me down more than once and could easily knock down a kid. And he gets wound up when he’s around a lot of people and critters, which is pretty much the description of an animal shelter.

So I was really proud of him for passing the test, and relieved they’ll be able to foster him. Means all our training is paying off! When I got him he was a serious biter–I’m talking tearing through my jeans and breaking the skin–and was not house trained. The rescue didn’t tell me any of this, so I was totally unprepared when I brought him home. I can’t afford to get a trainer, so we’ve done all his training on our own. Good boy, Winston!

I just don’t know what I’ll do without him for this long!

Gratuitous Winston picspam because he’s so cute.







Guarded February 13, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — weordmyndum @ 5:07 am
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Had therapy again today. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it.

(I need to give this therapist a name for this blog. I guess I could just go with A, since that’s her first initial.)

I was anxious that A would want me to do the sand tray again, and I was stressed out all morning about it. But she didn’t bring up the sand tray.

Nope. Instead, she wanted to talk about my parts/alters/others. (I feel like I should have a preferred term, but I don’t.)

That REALLY set me on edge. It didn’t feel quite safe–I feel like I don’t know her well enough yet to trust her with a lot of information about me/us. Names, for instance. Definitely not giving her those any time in the near future. I don’t know why it felt so unsafe. I did outline a few parts for her, which was a big accomplishment. I was so tense the whole time. When I’m really stressed or upset, I curl my toes up really tight. I’ve never heard of anyone else who does that, but when I have my toes all scrunched up, it’s a good sign I need to pay attention to my stress level. My toes were all curled up in my boots, but I pushed through it and chose to trust her, even if only in small increments. I guess it’s something.

It just seems weird to me that I’d be so hesitant to discuss the DID. I have spent over a year trying to find someone who knew enough to work with me on it. Now that I’ve found someone with some experience, I choke on my words. I’m too guarded to talk about it without feeling threatened. I guess it makes sense in its way–DID is a defense mechanism–but it frustrates me that it feels so dangerous.

*le sigh*

I think my cold is getting a bit better, though. That’s something, at least.


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