January 2, 2005

Back to "Normal"

I have been gone for a while on vacation and will be getting back to work and back to my normal life this week. Which makes me curiously wonder, what is "normal", anyway? In any case, I am getting back to my usual routine of work, therapy, work, therapy, work, therapy, and living in isolation. I really miss my family, whom I spent the holidays with. I admit however that I am more comfortable being a hermit, living here in my own home and spending most of my time by myself, even though being lonely and isolated is a huge pain in my heart. Being by myself, as tough as it is, makes my life a little simpler... I dont have to worry about containing myself, I dont have to worry if anyone's going to see me switch, I dont have to be so hyper-aware of what's going on. I've had a hard time the past couple weeks keeping everything in. Now that I'm back at home I can be myself...whether that's a good thing or a bad thing I'm not sure.

Posted by pilgrim at 9:20 PM | Comments (1)

January 3, 2005

look-a-likes

I look just like her. My mom. Which is a good thing, in most ways. My mom is one of the most beautiful people you’ll ever meet. We both have really long hair and light colored eyes, and she’s lost some weight recently and I’ve gained some [um… due to my “eating disorder recovery” efforts…so this is supposed to be a good thing, or so I hear]. We are about the same size now. Herein lies the problem.
Over the holidays, and today back at work when I was showing off pictures, I heard a lot of this: “You look just like your mom!” Again, good thing, right? She’s beautiful, so this is a compliment.
However.
She lost weight. I’ve gained some. We’re about the same size.

I will not, not, NOT, in no way ever ever, be happy about being the same size as my mom, I don’t care HOW beautiful she is.
Every time someone says I look just like my mom, I freeze up inside.
They mean well. They also have no idea what they’re saying.

When I was a teenager, both my mom and I were the same size, only much much heavier.
My dad made it a big joke about how much we looked alike. Same hair, same eyes, same…body.

He would come up behind me around the corner, bumping into me a little too close. “Oops, thought you were your mother.”
“Geez I’d better be careful whose boobs I pinch around here now.”
He would joke with his male friends, “P looks so much like her mom, I might accidently have sex with her and not know it.”
And on, and on, and on.

If I look like her again, I’m terrified that the same comments and actions will start up again. I CANNOT let this happen again. I may have been a young teenager then and not known what to do, but I DO know what to do now. I refuse to let my body look anything like my mom’s. I don’t want to go through all that again, what I had to before. Everyone's comments bring back so many bad memories of things my dad said and did.

I feel like I have a layer of blubber all over my body. I have been afraid to look in the mirror for weeks now. I’m too afraid of all the fat that I’m going to see. Now that I’m back home and the holidays are over I can work out more seriously and take off just a little more weight. People say that I’m already thin and that I eat like a bird but I just don’t understand it. They are obviously seeing things in a really mixed up way, I hide my weight well or something. I wish I could afford liposuction. And a personal trainer. I have to do something about my weight. If I can just get it back down to 100 pounds then that would be really good.

*sigh* i dont know what to do.

Posted by pilgrim at 7:05 PM | Comments (1)

January 4, 2005

i shouldn't have brought it up

I shouldn't have even written my last post here. i mentioned it to my therapist today. i should have kept my mouth shut. she already knew about this stuff with my dad, the comments he's made and stuff. but today she wanted me to talk about it because it's triggering my eating disorder and she said I was talking in the language of "fat" today (I'm fat. I just feel fat. I just need to lose weight. There's nothing wrong with me except that I am too fat." etcetera)So near the end of my session something really triggering came up and she wanted me to tell her about a comment that was said, I was dissociating and trying hard to stay there, but then it was time for me to go. That's it, time's up. shit. :( My head feels like its about to explode, but time's up.
So i went home and did some really, really stupid stuff to hurt and punish myself. Way to go, idiot. I dont even want to talk about it.
I see my therapist again tomorrow, thank goodness. I hope it goes better.
Tonight I'm just loaded with flashbacks and body memories of crap from the past that I hate. I feel like screaming and runnng from the room.
I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin.
hate this. hate it. i dont want to be here.
of course, i can never switch when i WANT to, dammit. all i want right now is to disappear and let someone else take over, like C****, who would know how to handle this stuff, but I'm sTuck here, just me, stupid. Pilgrim.

Posted by pilgrim at 9:20 PM | Comments (1)

January 5, 2005

left again

my appointment got cancelled today. she's sick.
naturally.
because yesterday stirred up a bunch of crap that i dont know how to handle and I really needed to talk to her again today and I feel like i'm crawling out of my skin. so naturally i get left alone to deal with it.
screw this.
this will be a lovely evening at home by myself i'm sure.

i keep trying to tell myself... it doesnt matter it doesnt matter it doesnt matter ... that its ok, i can wait til next monday to go again, what's the big deal. well it IS a big deal. i have been counting the hours since last night til i got back to her office today so I could talk about this today. it doesnt matter it doesnt matter it shouldn't matter why cant i just be a normal freaking person for once and shut the hell up.
i'm trying not to burst into tears but i'm at work so i have to hold it in for 4 more hours til i get home.
i knew this was going to happen.
i can take care of myself.
there are other things that are options. i have a bandaged up hand that proves that. and now i can go home and exercise instead. exercising is always better than just sitting in a chair talking, right? at least i can work on losing weight. an extra day of exercise.
i hate myself.
i hate all these flashbacks and body memories.

i will never have the help i need.
i have to be numb.
i only have myself.
i have to disappear.
i have to make everything hurt less
and i dont care how i have to do it.
i dont care how.
no crying, fat girl.
you're locked inside for another week. tough on you.
it doesnt hurt. nothing hurts. it wont. i'll make sure.

i just wanted to talk to her today.
i'm so selfish.

Posted by pilgrim at 9:53 AM | Comments (0)

mess

mess inside and now i've created a mess outside. i have to keep it IN. i have to keep all this mess INSIDE. i cut as soon as i got home. i am going to go exercise. i am TOO FAT! there is nothing wrong with me except that I weigh too much and i'm far too visible. if i was invisible then there would be nothing wrong. i can't let anyone hurt me. no one can hurt me like i can hurt myself. i'm an idiot for wanting to talk to my T today anyway. i'm an idiot for being selfish, for wanting someone to be around when i need them when that's just never going to happen. the only thing there when i need it is my eating disorder and cutting.
i'm a stupid fat digusting nobody.
nobody. just nobody.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:54 PM | Comments (0)

too many voices

its just too much tonight. i tried keeping myself all together in 1 piece during my vacation. i fought the switching as hard as i could to make sure that no one in my family noticed anything or thought i was weird. i held myself together as long as i could even through therapy yesterday. i wanted to come back and see my T and be in a good mood so she would be glad to see me again and not think i was a pain. tonight i feel like i just can't pretend anymore. i just need someone to talk to. I needed my therapist today. i needed someone to talk to. i needed to get some of this stuff out of my head. there's so much noise and so much yelling. my heads too full. i feel like i've exploded.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:59 PM | Comments (0)

January 6, 2005

Yep, back to normal, all right.

Depression, anxiety, and loneliness.
Yep, all is back to normal in this section of my head.
I haven't had panic attacks in a couple years, but the past week or so, they've been back. I (Pilgrim) am getting more depressed-- its usually Nobody that carries the depression for me. I'm really lonely for my ex best friend, its been nearly a year since she last spoke to me and I am still left with no answers. I saw a commercial advertising vitamins tonight and it had in it 3 best friends (and this amazing vitamin meets all their various nutritional needs, wow! amazing! buy it!). I got so depressed and jealous and lonely. Will I ever have someone to hang out with? Am I always going to be this alone? Am I ever going to have a best friend? Am I going to be this lonely all my life? Is SadGirl EVER going to stop saying, "[ex friends name]" EVERY time the doorbell rings and its only the postman? Are any of us ever going to get over this?
I dont want to go to work tomorrow. And I love my job. Instead I feel like curling up in my blankets and just hiding from the world. I dont want to come out until someone can make things better. Right now I want my therapist to come and say "what can I do to help? what do you need me to do?"
I didn't eat much today. I also self- injured the past 3 days. Yah, like those things are going to help, imbecile.

Posted by pilgrim at 7:23 PM | Comments (2)

January 8, 2005

The Weekend

I'm going to try really hard to do better this weekend, to make things better inside. I got 10 hours of sleep last night, and feel pretty good. This weekend I'm going to take time to make collages and do some artwork, go to the craft store to get the things I need to express myself creatively instead of doing stupid things like burning and cutting.I'm going to try really hard to do better.

Posted by pilgrim at 11:34 AM | Comments (1)

Why self-injure...

I do all sorts of things to punish/hurt/injure myself... some of the insiders do it (Missy and the bully do it to punish me, Nobody does it to hurt herself, SadGirl & me& Nobody all do it sometimes when we can't find the words to express what we need to i guess. Its like...
there comes a point when everything is too overwhelming, when everything is just too much. It's too much, because it started out as too much. Too much pain and frustration and "stuff" gets built up inside so fast that it feels like there is no way to get it out. Sometimes cutting/ burning or other S.I. (self injury) "helps". Its a release...calms me down. Makes me feel like I've gotten some of the bad stuff out, if only for a short while. Watching my arm bleed makes me feel as though all the bad stuff (whatever it may be-- guilt, shame, fat, memories, flashbacks) is getting out of my body). Burning myself feels like a test of how much pain I can take...
its very difficult to explain.
A couple years ago I wrote an essay of sorts about why I cut. I'm going to look it up and post it if I can find it, and see if that helps.
I know its a verd weird, and twisted concept to most people.
There is a book called A Bright Red Scream that does a good job of explaining why people self-injure. There is also a good forum available for people who self injure called BUS (Bodies Under Seige).

Posted by pilgrim at 9:31 PM | Comments (3)

My essay on self-injury

It’s a crazy thing, that you do this. You know this for a fact. People have to be really screwed up to hurt themselves on purpose, don’t they? At least that’s the way that movies and books make it seem. Only crazies hurt themselves. Normal people talk things out, go for a jog, take their anger out on others, shop too much, cry themselves to sleep. How you wish and hope and pray that you could be normal. If only it were enough to only cry, run, pound on things. Just once. To be done with hiding yourself, wearing long sleeves when its 100 degrees outside and humid, to not have to cleverly disguise your wrists by wearing big watches or enormous amounts of beaded bracelets, to no longer need to make up excuses about “that car accident I had before I met you,” stray cats who scratch (you fool no one; only a Siberian tiger could scratch like that, and really, what are the odds that you run into one of those on a regular basis?), the run-in you had with the out-of control blender or that window pane that dropped on your arm at Home Depot.
It all started out so innocently… a fight, or a time when no one was listening, or learning by accident that when you were upset and then you fell down and scraped your knee that watching the blood pool on your skin made you feel nice and numb inside. The tools were simpler then: the cap of a pen, a fingernail, maybe a pen knife. Or you could really economize and just hit your hand over and over into a wall, no tools needed and easy to do anywhere as long as you could be alone. And over the years those became simply put, inadequate. They didn’t cause enough pain, not enough blood, not enough numbness, anymore. You graduated to sneaking a butter knife out of the kitchen drawer, using that random piece of glass found on the sidewalk. But no need to worry, you weren’t like the really crazy ones, the ones who used razor blades and needed stitches and hung out in the ER. No, you justified to yourself as you blotted up a few drops of blood with the edge of your sleeve, you’re not like that. You just cut a little, you just have a little problem with sharp objects sometimes. If you ever got that bad, don’t worry, you’d get help; then there would really be a problem. You never imagine that years later, you hunt for stray glass, you have to gash your skin with Schick supersharp and will ponder where to find a scalpel like surgeons use. This isn’t a problem yet, you rationalize. No, you’re still not one of those crazy people who really have a problem. You only plot when you’ll be able to sneak off to the store to buy your razor blades. You only compare prices, deciding if 10 for $2.79 (with coupon) is a good deal or if you could get them cheaper at Walmart. You just stand in the aisle calculating that you could get 5 good cuts out of each blade, the store brand, 10 for $2.99, or 10 good cuts out of the better, sharper brand, 5 blades for $3.29. Heaven forbid if the store only has the single edge kind, where you don’t really get your money’s worth but they do make a better cut, so you weigh in on how you’re feeling: do you want more relief, or do you need to save some money?

No, this isn’t a problem yet, but wait.

Hold on kids, this is great fun: first you go open your new package of razor blades just outside the store, so you can throw away the box, and hide the blades in your purse. Then make sure you have the right kind of bandages on hand. Do you feel today like some small band-aids might work, or is today one of those days when you better have some gauze and tape ready? Is today a day when you might want to make sure you’ve got paper towels, too?
No wait, it gets better. You still don’t have a problem, but you go home, fighting back your inner demons and trying not to cry, trying not to be weak, while you carefully gather up your supplies and sit at the bathroom sink: one new razor blade, one large super-absorbant bandaid (its just been that kind of day, so you’re ready), two paper towels, rubbing alcohol (makes the cut sting more, when you wash it out--- two injuries for the price of one), all lined up with medical precision. Today is a day when you planned ahead; you felt the pain building up inside, knew it would become too much because it began as too much. Right now you cut for control. Not like some days, when you cry all day and rush around the house, digging through drawers, desperate to find anything to cut with, and in an act of impulsiveness you rip through your flesh without thinking and find yourself curled up in a corner of the closet, still crying. No, today is one of those days when you calculated: at 3:30 I’ll have time to go to the store, I have a $5 bill with me so I can get the name brand, and can be home in time to cut and clean up before Oprah comes on at 4:00. Today you plan to enjoy it. You weigh the risks and benefits of where you are going to cut today. Would it feel better on your leg? Is it a day when you’re not going to waste time and go straight to your wrists(outside only--- remember, only crazies cut where it could kill them)? You decide on your forearm. Since you’re taking your time today, it might take a moment to build up your nerve; you know you’re going to go for broke today, it’s the only way for you to deal with the ache inside. Cautiously (how much of a joke is that? You’re sitting there with a sharp object in your hand, ready to draw your own blood) you bring the blade to your skin and dig in sharply with the corner. It hurts for a split second, then the relief comes with the first droplet of blood. Then you feel nothing. Not enough yet—go deeper still, into the fat, til the skin spreads apart and the crimson bubbles up. Relief floods you as you watch red tears coursing down your arm, dropping with a heavy plop onto the paper towels. This isn’t a problem yet, remember, you’re just bleeding and watching it, holding the wound open and watching the yellow globules of fat stick out. You’re in control; it’s you who decides how long to let it bleed, how long before you begin to hold back the blood with the paper towels, you who decides if you put alcohol and ointment on it, decides how bad you think you might want the scars to be, how fast you want it to heal. After all, you rationalize, its your body and your life and only you can hurt you; no one else can, you won’t let them. You lean back against the wall, exhausted, happy, ignoring the ghastly realization that you’re one of those crazy people who hurts themselves. It’s not a problem, this thing you do; what the problem was is that you were hurting so much to begin with before you cut. Now you’re done, those blessed brain chemicals have done their job, and you find yourself sleepy and a million miles away--- that’s not a problem at all. For right now, you’ve once again saved yourself. You didn’t need anyone else to help, it didn’t matter that you were alone. You’ve helped yourself--- isn’t that what therapists, self-help books, and parents tell you to do? To take care of yourself? Nothing hurts as much as everything inside. There, you’ve done it, and it only cost you $4. 52 total, including the brand-name bandages, and a life time of lies, secrets, self-hate, and long-sleeved t-shirts..

Posted by pilgrim at 9:39 PM | Comments (9)

January 9, 2005

I have been having panic attacks again

I have been having panic attacks again. Just little ones. Not the huge, the world is dying and I am too and this is it I'm having a heart attack RIGHT NOW type panic attacks that I used to have, but little ones. They've just started up again since my trip home over Christmas to visit my family. I can't figure out why . The trip went well. But now that I am home again, I am panicky all the time. I want to stay home all the time even more now. I constantly feel like I'm on the verge of breaking apart. Not just breaking apart, but like I'm a spring that's wound too tight and just waiting for the chance to go "BOING!!!!" and fling myself into a thousand pieces into all different directions.

Posted by pilgrim at 8:35 PM | Comments (4)

January 10, 2005

got a good talking to.

*groan*. Well, I totally got a talking to in today's session (this is nobody). My therapist talked about how she is frustrated over the ways I dont change my thinking, how she's done everything she can think of to help me, and still I dont change. i went in there feeling hopeless... the stern talking to didn't help much but i needed to hear it.. I needed someone to talk to me like an adult.. I mean, I think it means she trusts me to be honest with me. I have 8 days until my next session... and lots to think about. My therapist can't possibly make herself more trustworthy... she can't make her office or herself any safer.I know deep inside that she is just as safe as can be to talk to. I know deep inside that I can trust her with anything I say. Its just that my fears are so great, so afraid of being rejected again, or made fun of, or a hundred other things. My therapist is not the problem here, and I know that. What I have to work up the courage to do is to just go ahead and jump in. Do what I need to do, open up my heart and my mouth, and start talking in therapy and say what I need to say and feel what I need to feel. Its up to me. I know I need to do this. I think I needed a talk like this today. It just scares me.

Posted by pilgrim at 5:11 PM | Comments (0)

Contemplation about therapy, trust, and my relationship with my therapist

have to remember that the luxury of therapy isn't always going to be available. i need to take advantage of it even when it is hard

S is trustworthy. she has proven it time and time again in the past 4 years. even when Missy has tried to convince me that S is leaving me, or not coming back from somewhere, or is going to dump me "for sure" after telling her something terrible--she hasn't. Missy has been WRONG.
Here are some things I need to remind myself...
My therapist
- is trustworthy
- has never made fun of me
- has never called me names, called me fat/ugly/stupid/etc; has never put me down
- has always been honest with me; she tells the truth, even when its something I dont want to hear-- so I know I can trust what she says
- she has been MORE than patient with me. she has gone above and beyond the call of duty especially as far as patience goes
- we have told her some really weird stuff. Yet she still lets me come back every week
- she pushes me because she thinks i can handle it
- she says she believes i can do things.
- one of the things I'm afraid of is that she will tell on me (like to my parents). But she hasn't done that (and cant, since I'm an adult and also live far away from them)
- she's not going to beat me up or call me names or scream at me. When she's frustrated with me we talk about it
- when there are problems between us we talk through it and find solutions

*sigh* my head hurts. I have a splitting headache, have since I started driving home from therapy tonight. It feels like I have something prying apart my head and I'm trying to look deep inside to find out what the problem is in there. I'd like a flashlight.... or maybe a lobotomy.

i have so much to figure out.
If anyone has any helpful advice or comments, please feel free to leave me some.

Posted by pilgrim at 7:33 PM | Comments (4)

January 11, 2005

thinking.

I am really lonely for my old best friend tonight. I went for a long walk today, and I wanted her with me like she used to be. A week from today it will be a year since I saw her last. I feel like curling up in a ball and hibernating until Spring.

I guess I can see all this time alone as giving me more time to think and figure things out. I wouldnt have that if I were surrounded by people all the time. i am probably luckier and most because I have time to myself. i know there are people who would give anything for some time alone.

Today something occurred to me...for the 1st time in 4 years. Why didn't this ever hit me before?
My therapist is not my mom or dad. She isn't my ex-boyfriend either.
I am not my therapist's victim.

if i talk about what i really need to talk about and what i really feel and let her see the real us and what we're all like... that might just be ok.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:28 PM | Comments (1)

same place

Things are racing around inside my head so fast. I wish one of my online friends would come online so I could talk to them. I need someone to talk to, someone i could just bounce some ideas off of, someone who could just tell me if i'm headed in the right direction or not with some thoughts i'm having. everyone talking inside and its all coming at me too fast. This is when i get frustrated with everything. When voices in my head are going around, fast and furious, different opinions and various thoughts on 3 or 4 or 5 subjects... when I have tried writing about it (online and offline), when I have tried exercising AND relaxing to relieve some of the tension, when I have tried a nice hot shower, taken my meds (prozac, etc), when I have tried doing artwork, tried talking to myself/ves, tried sitting with it... and yet HERE I AM IN THE SAME PLACE.

i need a PERSON to talk to.

Pilgrim

Posted by pilgrim at 8:58 PM | Comments (2)

January 12, 2005

Tired out

I am really tired out right now. All of this stuff is going on and on inside my head, over and over. I am doing a lot of thinking.
I am very anxious to get to my session next week and talk things over with S. When I do talk to her about things we've been thinking about though I'm going to tell her to not just take our word for it that we plan to change now. We want to prove it first to her and to ourselves, because things are easier said than done. Since yesterday when we realized that she isn't our tormentor or our mom or dad or ex boyfriend ... that we're not her victim... it feels different somehow. Like now we can take a step back and let her help and trust what she says. It feels different... almost a little freeing.

Posted by pilgrim at 7:45 PM | Comments (4)

January 14, 2005

Loneliness hitting me again

*wow* . i just got hit by a wave of loneliness and despair. It was slowly coming as I was out on a walk... I was missing my ex-best friend. We used to take walks together, and I was lonely to have her beside me. I miss sitting on the couch with her too, holding hands or sitting with her head on my shoulder or her playing with my hair. Its the little things I miss.
Then i read a note someone wrote... it was Judy, and many of you here at Healthdiaries know how caring,loving, and deephearted she is. She wrote that she needed to stay with her mom, who was upset, and she wrote "I can't let her down when she's crying and needs me."
It reminds me of what my sister says when she's with her daughter, how she can't let her daughter Sam cry, she has to be there and help her. I am so selfish--because I am so jealous. I would give anything for someone to say that about me. Anything. I didn't have my parents there when I needed them. If I cried, I got sent to my room until I could come out with a smile on my face. If I cried in front of my ex boyfriend, he got angry. I rarely cry anymore-- I shut down instead. my husband is busy. He isn't home much. I can call him at work if i need to... but he is often with a client or busy. He has often gotten annoyed with me if I start crying. My therapist-- well, she's got an hour, that's it, if you're still crying when your time is up, then tough on you.
I have a stomachache, I feel so yucky inside and lonely and... bad.
I feel like the only thing that's ever been here for me is my eating disorder and cutting.
not quite as nice as having a person.
its all i have for now.
Gosh I am so...
jealous
lonely
stupid

i wish i had a friend. anyone. any kind of relationship where the person would say "I can't let Pilgrim down when she needs me."

i'm sorry. this was a stupid post. :(

Posted by pilgrim at 3:58 PM | Comments (4)

January 15, 2005

nobody

I am so lonely this morning that its making my whole body ache. I can feel it down to my nerves, a heaviness in my heart and body and mind.
I have been trying to keep busy cleaning the house and doing other things. But loneliness keeps hitting me. No one is around. No one knows what I'm doing. No one knows how much I need to talk to someone. There isn't anyone I can call. There isn't any place I can go to connect with someone. The only place I need to go today is the post office. As the anniversary of the loss of my best friend gets closer, the harder it gets to deal with this ache.
I am nobody.
nb

Posted by pilgrim at 11:20 AM | Comments (0)

Flashbacks started in kindergarten and 1st grade

This is so strange. I have been thinking about it a while, i just havent written it down or taked about it.
I remember being in 1st and 2nd grade, and having flashbacks,especially in school.
A certain smell of food would set me off in the school cafeteria-- I can't remember what it was, but it was food.
I would have flashes of bad stuff happening in kindergarten. But I would shut down.
I remember shaking my head and closing my eyes and trying to shake it off-- like i do now. I can remember my heart would start racing, and I'd go away. Like I do now.
I wonder if already back then, C**** and SadGirl were taking over for me...

(edited to add) I remember having flashbacks in 4th grade also. Whenever we'd go into the auditorium to watch filmstrips or movies. It'd be dark in there. I can see myself sitting there, watching Lollipop Dragon filmstrips. It was supposed to be fun. And I would be sitting there talking to my friends... and all of a sudden have flashes of memories that I didn't understand. And get dizzy and shakey.

I am so lonely still. My heart is hurting. I am still trying to keep busy today. I just want so badly for a friend to come spend time with me. I miss my best friend so much that I just keep curling up in a ball on the floor and concentrate on not letting myself fall apart.

Posted by pilgrim at 1:20 PM | Comments (1)

headache

I had to get offline for a little while tonight. I got triggered and had a really hard time. It was when I read something about someone's kitty dying... hearing about animals in pain or children in pain is my biggest trigger. I was reading and immediatey got a pounding headache... too many voices, too many big reactions inside. Some of my pets were hurt when I was little-- I can't talk about it.
Tonight the buzzing in my ears started and the bad headache and the pounding and voices-- i just felt so bad and curled up on the couch for a while in a ball as small as i could. I took a lot of deep breaths. These just aren't the kinds of headaches that some aspirin can help.
C**** took over for a little while with the deep breaths and calmed SadGirl down, and gradually the headache went away. Then she ate some toast and helped the rest of us feel a little better. C****'s always the calm one...

Posted by pilgrim at 9:45 PM | Comments (3)

January 17, 2005

did better today

Today was a day off, and things went better. Kept really busy and was barely at home-- that helped. I was thrilled last night and felt really popular as several people were online and talked to me... thank you to Sarah...Heavens... Monica....my sister...Lori...Kendra... thank you to everyone who took the time to check in with me last night to let me know how you are doing or to pop in and say hi. It means more to me than anyone will ever realize.

Posted by pilgrim at 5:27 PM | Comments (1)

January 18, 2005

its been a year

This is a kind of hard day. Last day we saw our best friend.

I didnt come out front until 3:30, after school was over... so i didn't realize what I was wearing. Turns out I am dressed in the exact outfit that was one my best friend wore all the time. A sweater we shared, same black pants, same exact shoes, even a necklace pulled out over the turtleneck in the same way. I look like her twin today.
When I noticed, I felt like I got hit with a brick.

Right now we have the porch light on...just in case she comes knocking on the door. i miss her so much. So much.

Today in therapy, we talked about her. We had the same therapist, too. It was hard. I dont feel like talking about it much right now... I just still feel like everything must be my fault. My therapist doesnt think so. But I just want to see my friends, especially my best friend (*sigh* -ex-)in a positive way. We talked today about maybe I was just too much... too confusing. The switching, you know? Maybe its unnerving. Maybe people can't handle it, even when they say that they can. I can remember once when our friend was over and SadGirl was laying on the floor crying really hard over something. REALLY hard. Then Missy got sick of it, yanked her out of the way, and came out front in only a second-- it was a really fast switch-- and said "Well that's enough; lets get going to the park." I was behind them, but i could see the startled expression on my friend's face. And that used to happen in junior high a lot too. My best friend Hannah-- she never knew if she said something if she'd get punched in the arm, face a crying jag, get no reaction at all, or get a lecture. It must have been terribly confusing, for both my best friends, to just never know who you were going to face from one moment to the next.
.
.
.
i guess.
we'll keep making excuses for them. give them an out.
my. heart. aches.

I just miss her so much.

SadGirl still keeps thinking she's coming back too... every time the doorbell rings or the phone rings, we jump just in case.

she isnt coming back. we know this. its the 1 year anniversary.. maybe she was just waiting me out, trying to teach me a lesson... or.. i just dont know, i just dont know. It had to be something I did wrong... she was a nice person.

She left anyway.

i am so lonely. i am just so lonely.

Posted by pilgrim at 7:13 PM | Comments (0)

January 19, 2005

This is how I feel today.

Deep in thought.
Just sort of restless.
Sort of lonely.
Sort of lost.
Sort of found.
Sort of all over the place.

Posted by pilgrim at 3:03 PM | Comments (0)

Withdrawing

Tonight I stared out the peephole of my front door for a long time.
Wishing as hard as I could that I could make my best friend appear at the door like she used to. I wished so,so hard that I thought I could make her magically appear.

She didn't.

I see the moon and the moon sees me.
The moon sees somebody I want to see.
God bless the moon
and God bless me
and God bless the somebody I want to see.

Posted by pilgrim at 8:24 PM | Comments (4)

January 20, 2005

therapy today

This is me again, nobody, who's been writing all week, but its harder today. Just very quiet and withdrawn. Went to see my therapist and nutritionist today. They both tried to have a talk with me that all of us inside share the same body. i guess it seems that way. whatever. :( At least my therapist said that she knows that we see our own self in the mirror. But i wish i could get them to understand this is not my body this is not Missy's body this is not Carol's body . this is DEFINITELY not SadGirl's body and man, don't even get Tuck started on if he lives in this body, he's too embarassed to even have that conversation. He won't even listen if anyone's talking about that. He's a boy and that's all there is to it, the end. Try explaining "but you all share the same earth-suit" to an 8 year old boy.

i dont want to talk anymore today. i want to curl up in bed and make the world go away. i am fat and ugly and i dont want to be seen.

Posted by pilgrim at 5:35 PM | Comments (2)

January 21, 2005

not fair

I feel really lousy…guilty..bad tonight. SadGirl is crying inside (again). And I tried to help but there isn’t anything I can do about it because I can’t make the situation change that she’s upset about. She wants our ex-best friend to come back over to play. I was on a walk and feeling lonely and missing her. When SadGirl gets upset I try to tell her that the same moon and stars that she looks up at are the same moon and stars that K sees… see, we can’t be that far away from each other, right? But SadGirl just got more upset tonight. And she doesn’t want anything like a blanket or curl up on the bed or a stuffed animal. She wants K. That’s it. I could color with her--- NO. I could get out her dolls--- NO you are not K.

That’s the sucky, completely unfair part about all this that I HATE. I HATE. SadGirl didn’t do ANYTHING WRONG regarding K. She couldn’t have possibly done anything wrong. Lets just say that me or Carol or Missy or Nobody might have said something inappropriate, or scared Koff somehow- ok. We may have (although none of us have figured out yet what that could have been.) That’s fine—hold one of us accountable; get angry with us. But SadGirl—she did NOTHING wrong, and yet, because she is in the same body, she still gets punished. ITS NOT FAIR TO HER. SadGirl didn’t do anything wrong to K. She still deserves to have K as her friend. And SadGirl sees herself as her own, complete person, her own little 5 year old self with little ponytails and missing teeth and a brown dress, and sees the world from a 4’ tall viewpoint. She doesn’t have ANY understanding why K is doing this to her. And I try and try to explain that Kisn’t mad at HER, but maybe with someone else or something else might be wrong, but SadGirl just CANT understand. Its not fair to her. I don’t know how to make it any better. I just don’t.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:24 PM | Comments (1)

January 22, 2005

i am so far away

copied from my journal

I am writing from far away now down a long hallway that echos. Sounds are echoing off the walls.
Tuck wants you to know he knows what you (my T) said the other niiiiiiight about this earth suit thing but he is a boy and he feels like a boy and he dooooooos boy stuff and he actslike a boy I am sitting here with m y eyes closed and I can see him inside and he sure looks like a boy to me also.
Headache.have to go,,, too tired all of a sudden.

had more to say but will have to try again later

Posted by pilgrim at 11:25 AM | Comments (1)

early explanations- reincarnation, past lives

No self-injury today so far. This is the 1st day in almost 3 weeks. Want to make it through the whole day. I distracted myself by wandering around acouple bookstores and a toystore.
SHUT UP YOUR WORDS DON’T MATTER FAT GIRL!!
God Missy’s on a rampage today every time I try to write she starts to yell. Theres 2 things I keep trying to write to you about this week and she wont let me.
Sorry sorry sorry my words are a waste of time.

This is nobody.
What she wanted to say was that in 7th grade she had this theory to try to explain why she felt so weird. Sometime around age 12 (why by then Missy was there, I was there, Tuck was there, SadGirl was there,etc)… she came up with the idea that she must have had a bunch of past lives, that’s why she felt like she was so many different people. She must have read something, or heard stories about, reincarnation. And when she was 12 that was Pilgrim’s reasoning to explain why she felt like so many people--- it was just remembering all the people she’d acted like during her past lives.

Posted by pilgrim at 9:26 PM | Comments (0)

January 23, 2005

A note from Carol

Hi everyone,
This is Caroline.
First of all, I wanted everyone to know that last night we changed our personal website a little bit, if anyone would like to go look at it again. It used to be more of an information website on dissociative disorders, but now it is more of a personal website about all of us.
Its really lovely outside today even though its cold out. The sun is shining brightly. Sunshiney days just realy make everyone happy. I'm hoping to go for a walk later. I had a good night's sleep last night.

I wanted to share a few things that I've come to realize lately.
Tuck has been complaining quite a bit the past couple days-- mainly because of the whole-- you're all 1 body/ 1 earthsuit discussion-- which really upsets him, because he sees himself in every way as a boy. He knows he's 8 1/2 years old, and that's all their is to it. We all see him as an 8 year old boy from head to toe. He does not come to the front very often, unless he's out in the woods playing by hiMissylf or playing with SadGirl, because he realizes his voice sounds funny (like a girls), and when he talks to anyone he gets very nervous and I've noticed that the few times he has talked to an outsider he tends to stutter a little. But he's a very sweet, polite little boy. The other day I was trying to figure out just how Tuck came to be, and I think I may have come up with an answer.

At age 8, she (Pilgrim) LOVED school. School was a haven, this safe place, with an amazing teacher that she loved to spend every minute with. A teacher she could hold hands with, help out in the classroom, a teacher who told her she was bright and creative and inspiring. But then came the last day of school. This is what she can remember:
she didn't want to get on the bus. She couldn't stand the thought of leaving school for 3 months (probably the only child in the world who moped around on the last day of school!). She held onto her teacher's hand as long as she could. Kept telling her teacher she didn't want to go... but finally had to. Stared out the window of the bus, wanting so much to cry but trying hard not to, aching to be with her teacher again. The song "Crying" (by Roy Robinson, maybe?) was going through her head. She didn't want to go home. She had to stay at school. She finaly caught the teacher's eye, and they waved to each other. She started to cry just a little, but then stepped back inside herself to disappear. She was 8 1/2.
I wonder, perhaps, if that's around when Tuck came. I dont know for sure of course. But I just wonder. That year she got a boy's haircut and took up football and motorcycles. That summer she started running around in the backyard with no t-shirt on because "all the other boys are allowed to". And of course, the single happiest day of Tuck's life was the one day when his dad took time to play football in the backyard with him. The one day. Which he refers to over and over to try to convinc himself that his dad loves him-- "my dad played football in the backyard with me once."

I also wanted to say that I'm proud of Nobody. You know what she wants? She wants to join the teaching team at school, along with me and Missy and Pilgrim. She's never wanted to do anything before. She isn't ready to be teaching yet, really. She doesn't know what to do with herself when she's there at school, but at least she has gone to school and sat there with the kids and tried to talk to them, and that is something! In time maybe she will be able to take on some of the teaching responsibilities that the rest of us do. She's working hard to do better and I think that's great.

Caroline.

Posted by pilgrim at 12:39 PM | Comments (0)

January 24, 2005

My job

I was happy to be at work today. I'm a teacher and it was a nice, fairly quiet day at school today. One of my favorite students was in a really good mood today and is always so happy to see me, and that just lifted my spirits.
People have often asked me how it is that work can go so well when the rest of my life can be in such chaos.
I've been really lucky as I've been growing up that school has always been a happy, wondrous place for me to be. In elementary school, even while things were going on with the "night time Pilgrims", the "day time Pilgrims" were still in school getting good grades and performing well and being the Teacher's Pet. I was always the star of the class. And I always knew I wanted to be a teacher.
School is still a happy, wonderful place to me-- I have a job that I love.
School has always been a refuge.
At school now, "I" have a teaching team--- me (Pilgrim), C****, and Missy. C**** is the main teacher, who can teach no matter how hard of a day the rest of us are having. She has endless patience and love for the kids that surpasses even what I have. Missy has the strength and outgoing personality (that I dont have at all) to run meetings and face parents. I can't handle those types of things at all-- I'm so shy that I can barely talk to anyone over age 8. I can do a lot of the teaching, so long as things are going ok on the ourside and inside of me. But if I'm having a hard day, one of the others is welcome to take over. So it always looks like there is a good teacher in the classroom, and that way the students always have a competent, loving, patient teacher in charge of them. That safety and welfare of the students is the top priority.
Its just always worked out that C**** is mainly in charge at work, thank goodness. I'm a good teacher, but I really hope I can be as good as C**** some day.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:29 PM | Comments (0)

my view...nobody

This is just me, nobody.
Its hard for me to go to work on the days I have to be there. Thankfully its not often. Usually C**** or Pilgrim handle it. I'm glad about that.
I'm 17. I still feel like I'm in high school. I didn't go through college like they did. To me, I'm still sitting at my desk by the window in study hall, junior year of high school, trying to figure out what to write in my journal for my English teacher.
For my career I think I'd like to be a librarian. I love to read more than just about anything. Something quiet...where I can be left alone. People are scary and complicated. Books are simple and filled with information. I can learn about anything. I'd be happy just lost in a big, old library filled with books. If I was a librarian, I could get lost in the back book shelves for days on end. Or maybe I could be a researcher. I could disappear for weeks at a time, researching something difficult... no one would miss me, and I'd be content to curl up in the back of the Library of Congress with my glasses and a blanket and a diet Coke. Alone.
Teaching just seems so "out there." You have to just really put your heart on the line if you're going to be a teacher. There are days when I do go to school...but its hard for me. I feel like I dont belong there. Its better if someone else takes over right away. I'd sort of like to teach a little bit, join their team, but I dont think I'm ready right now. I'd rather just watch for now.
If there was only a job that required me to just sit on a mountainside with a pile of books, a blanket, and a kitten from 9-5.

Posted by pilgrim at 9:22 PM | Comments (0)

January 25, 2005

The weight of the world on my shoulders

I just got back from therapy.
i feel like i have the weight of the world on my shoulders. like i'm about to explode. i'm so lonely. i need a friend to talk to. i need to not come home to a dark house. i want to fade away into nothingness. its so hard to sit there and talk. but i want to. i want to have the connection to my therapist like C**** does, like SadGirl does. i have to be so careful though. i never make eye contact with anyone, but i am trying to with her. That was something we talked about today, about me never being able to look at anyone. I try so hard to make eye contact with her but it hurts to look at people. I dont want anyone to see how fat and ugly i am, or how bad i am, how worthless and stupid i am. I've always felt like i'm below people, not worthy of looking up at them. i just want to hide away.
I dont know how Missy does it. She has no problem with eye contact. She would stare down a 5-Star General and not think anything of it. She'd probably have a stare-down with Jesus and then wink at him. She just doesn't have any fears or any worries about her self-worth.
C**** is comfortable, too. I know she looks at people. i dont know about SadGirl.

i have so much tension and anxiousness built up inside me from so much that's going on that doesn't get talked about that it just feels like i'm going to explode. i hate myself so much. i wish i could cut until all the bad stuff is out. i dont want to be here anymore.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:41 PM | Comments (1)

Tuesdays

Are Tuesdays going to be like this forever now or something?
Because last Tuesday was the 1 year anniversary since I saw my best friend? I'm so lonely that my heart feels like its being torn in two. I want to just curl up on the couchand bury myself under the blankets. Never come out. SadGirl is saying "Does she come back tonight?" NO, SadGirl, she DOESNT come back tonight.
I dont know what to say or do to make SadGirl feel better. I dont know what to do or say to make me feel better. I feel like nothing I do works.
I just stood there in the bathroom staring up at the ceiling for the longest time, trying not to cry and trying to think of some way to get over these broken hearts. But I just keep coming up with nothing.

Posted by pilgrim at 6:30 PM | Comments (2)

January 26, 2005

one tried to make a friend

i remember trying to make a friend once. she was in 11th grade with me. her boyfriend and our boyfriend were best friends.
"David", our boyfriend... he was a nightmare. Possessive, mean, abusive, scary.
One night Pilgrim decided that she was going to stand her ground with him. He didn't want her to do anything without him. He stalked her all the time, always finding her wherever she was. But she insisted this one time-- her and this friend were going to go out. To the mall, on a Friday night, like a normal girl, the boyfriends were staying home, that was that.
I remember being incredibley scared.
I can remember one part of being out that night with this girl. I am sure they walked around the mall and talked or something, probably did some shopping, but i wasn't there for any of that.
I do remember being at Subway... being anorexic I was super stressed out. I remember staring at the table, at the napkins, at the sandwich I was supposed to be eating, and trying to talk. It felt like I was down a long tunnel, things were echoing and hard to understand. I tried to make eye contact but couldn't.
But I remember wanting to, so much, because I wanted a friend so much. I'd spend so many years at night saying my prayers, begging God for "just one friend, just ONE, that is all I need, just ONE, PLEASE. please." Just wanted a friend to laugh and play with and hang out with and talk to and do normal things with. But didn't have one yet.
still dont.
I guess Pilgrim, and especially Missy, had fun that night, out at the mall with their girl friend.
What I remember though is seeing "David's" truck in the driveway when I got home.
He was waiting for me.
He wasn't in his truck-- he was actually in this framed-out house next door, where the cement slab had been poured and the outside walls had been put up.
i was. so.scared.
I found him waiting there for me in the dark, sittng against a wall.
He was so, so angry.
I learned that night that it wasn't worth it to try to go against him anymore. I never tried again to "disobey" him. When he said he didn't want me going somewhere without him.... i was weak and didn't.
It was at that point pretty much that Pilgrim lost all her friends. And I've never gotten over that night... and i just am so ... lonely.

i shouldnt have written this. i'm sorry.

Posted by pilgrim at 4:34 PM | Comments (0)

do I have the courage to talk about the flashbacks?

i am having such horrible flashbacks tonight... started with what i wrote earlier. in the shower tonight i just got flooded with memories. i turned off the water and just stood there frozen, seeing everything happening around me again. then more came. stuff that happened at other times with him. all real like its happening right now. i wish so much i could talk to my therapist. i dont see her til tomorrow afternoon and that is a long way off. my body hurts, it remembers what was done to it. then more memories hit. again.
its just too much. i have to work up the courage to talk about it with my therapist tomorrow but she's probably heard it from me before (another part of me). but i havent talked about it before ever. i wouldnt dare. i've never talked about specifics. i cant talk about the memories. i cant talk about what really happened.
going to go before i hit erase.
i am so fat i can barely stand myself.

nobody

Posted by pilgrim at 7:06 PM | Comments (2)

January 27, 2005

those girls leving for now

say bye from Tuck
there herted to bad

Posted by pilgrim at 5:22 PM | Comments (0)

hello this is Tuck

the nevereding story. thats one of my favrite movies. i just watched it on tv. i want a luckdragon to like the boy. my name is Tuck. i am 8 in a half. i was playing in the long grass outside. lloking for frogs. then there wasnt a noise at all. somewon says GET UP YOU HAVE TO GET UP. but no one was there to get up. so i had to walk up the hill up high.
when i come to the front at the top i was in that ladyes office. those girls been crying. i dont no where they did go. im a brave boy. i did say hi to our theripist and tell her to come froggin with me next time. then i tell her by and i drive home and im brave

Posted by pilgrim at 7:32 PM | Comments (1)

January 28, 2005

not here

not here. no

Posted by pilgrim at 2:26 PM | Comments (3)

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