dissociative Identity disorder

darnold1975

Illusions of Halloween

Illusions of Halloween

10.21.14

“The moment of betrayal is the worst, the moment that you know beyond any doubt that you’ve been betrayed:  that some other human being has wished you that much evil.”

—-Margaret Atwood,  The Empathy Trap book page

These last several months has left me both mentally and physically drained to a low that I have never experienced.  Sometimes I have wondered if the universe is trying to point out something that I just can’t seem to see or understand.  The stress alone has left me 40 lbs lighter.  No complaints from me about that.  I think both me and my wife have felt every emotion possible at its highest intensity.  Have I allowed myself to do too much at times? Undeniably, yes.  Have I neglected my own needs psychologically, physically, mentally and emotionally?  Indeed I have.  Do I regret it? Not one minute of it.  I don’t feel compelled or obligated.  I am who I am. And I do what I do out of love for other people.

I’ve been told over the last few months, “No one ever said you had to do it or you weren’t asked to do it.”  My response has always been, “Why should I have to be asked to do something for someone that’s just the right thing to do?”  I don’t feel that I deserve any pats-on-the-back or high fives for simply taking some time to comfort someone in need.  Should I do this more in moderation?  Yes of course.  But, I know only one way to be a friend…..110% at all times when possible.

I’ve tried to figure this entire struggle lately with very few satisfying answers.  The only things I have become “one” with are my own tears.  I think that whatever emotional block that I had been struggling with prior to going back south for a visit has certainly been remedied.  I have emerged someone different and even more confused.  How do I deal with my own trauma like I need to while continuing to be supportive to those in need?  Well, right now, I don’t have those answers.  I just know that promises were made to both friends and family that I would stand by and support them in any way possible.  And since I don’t know how to turn my back on people, I’ll continue to be there for them while also trying to find my balance.

This time of year has many unpleasant anniversaries and memories associated with it.  I have always loved the fall and Halloween.  This year the familiar smells in the air are enough to turn my stomach.  I normally would be hunting for the best haunted house, haunted barn, haunted corn maze or anything that I was hopefully to get a good scare from in the region.  However, at this point in my life, there are very few days that are fun and enjoyable.  All I can seem to attribute this lack of contentment to is just where I am on my path of healing.  The word “trust” is one that has become again a word that is attached to the word “fear.”

Just this past weekend, our family went to McCall’s Pumpkin Patch in Moriarty, NM that we have been going to since before Marshall was born.  It has always been a place where my “inner child” comes alive and enjoys having fun.  Since Marshall was born, we always take this time to have fun taking fall pictures of him.  This year was different.  I was very apprehensive about all the people that would be there and just the thought of going scared the absolute shit out of me.  I didn’t totally understand but I think back to the sacrifices that my parents always made to attend all of my many softball/basketball games.  Instantly, I put on a smile and thought, “I, too, must do this for our son.”

Mel had all medications ready just in case.  And I will also add that I was medicated before we even left the house.  Secretly, my goal was to get through this as quickly as possible and get back home to my place of “safety.”  I must admit that seeing our son having such a good time brought joy to my heart.  The fear that I had from just being there was beginning to make me nauseous.  I sipped on my medical marijuana shooter to try and help combat all of the anxiety and nausea that was beginning from somewhere deep in my soul.  Something was beginning but what and why?  I knew that part of it had to do with being around so many people that was for sure.  I knew, though, that there was something more painful attached to this reaction, but what?  Halloween had always been something fun for me or had it?  I tried to ignore everything as best I could for the sake of Marshall and Mel to have an enjoyable day.

The last thing we always do before leaving is the hay ride.  However, after being around what seemed like ½ of the total population of New Mexico, I was done.  I told them to go ahead  and I would just wait under a covered area where a lot of families were eating and taking a break from the activities.  Never going anywhere in public without my IPod, I sit at a table and try to do some deep breathing and try and enjoy some music until they got finished.  Apparently, I was seen as an easy target to squeeze out because a rather large family decided that they would occupy the rest of the space at the table.  So, I politely got my shit and left them with the damn table.  I would like to interject that there is not a whole lot that I miss about where I was raised.  The common courtesy of simply asking if it was ok to sit there was something that I truly missed at that exact moment.  I would’ve gotten up anyway but, you know, the whole “principle” of the matter thing.  Anyway, I find a place on a hay bale and sit there in eager anticipation for the return of the pumpkin hunters.   I soon realize that I’m not able to keep an eye on everything but this time I’m alone.  My mind begins to panic and all I can think is, “Get me out of here NOW!”  Then the flashes of images that I can’t seem to connect with begin.  Really?  All I knew was that I was terrified.  The nausea sets in and I keep swallowing to prevent the ultimate embarrassment of vomiting in public.  I was scared and alone and that was all I could comprehend.  I felt like at any moment someone was going to do something horrible to me.  I just didn’t feel protected.  My deep breathing quickly became like a dog panting.  My eyes searched the area like a tiger looking for a meal.  And then…….I’m in the truck almost back in ABQ not remembering if something had happened.  I had a really bad headache and tried to put the pieces together and couldn’t.  Yea…..Happy Halloween.

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Wake Me Up When September Ends…..

11.5.14

“The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma.” 
― Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery

I’ve always been told the saying, ‘when it rains it pours.’  Right now, my life feels like a hundred year flood.  And for those who read this blog, yes, I did manage to make it through Halloween.  It wasn’t easy and I was medicated, but I wasn’t going to miss our son’s trick or treating for anything no matter how painful it was for me.

You may or may not view this as a “pity party” session and well that’s on you.  I view this as being able to freely voice my agony which tends to be very cathartic. I’d like to think that this string of painful losses was just for the month of September.  There are several events that seemed to congregate in that month.  The psychological trauma began many years ago so, I’m not a ‘newbie’ to bad shit happening.  Matter of fact, I can usually handle that much better than “normal” life. Why?  For many years, that has been my normal.

This year has been one, thus far, that I’ll never forget.  The spring brought two suicides. The summer brought the most intense internal and external psychological battle that I think has ever been waged against me.  September…..well….it doesn’t have a season because what started then hasn’t stopped even now.  There is nothing that could’ve prepared me for when my brother’s wreck that happened and yet he still survived and is doing very well.  Less than a week later another suicide that I was directly associated with occurred.   Another suicide only a couple of weeks ago happened yet again.  And now some concerning news that I must just chew on for the moment.

Have I learned some difficult lessons this summer? You bet I have!  September just seems to keep feeding me and my family all kinds of stuff that just makes you shake your head.  And it’s not over yet.  In the meantime, I start deep work on my molestation as a child very soon.  Sometimes you wonder what your limits are and then voices from the past namely Nick Kolinsky and Randy King among other coaches remind me that “A Winner Never Gives Up!”  We were never allowed as players to give a half ass effort.  So, even now, with tears streaming down my face, what was instilled in me as a ballplayer keeps me going.  You just enjoy the good times and prepare for the bad.  Things have happened so quickly that life hasn’t afforded me time to catch my breath.

And now I get ready to embark on a deeper more painful part of the journey of trauma recovery that I have yet to experience.  I have asked many questions about why I have to pay both mentally and physically for the evil that was done by others.  The only solace I can find, at this juncture, is so that I can finally have my voice heard.  Oh, there have been people that have said along the years that they were listening to me.  Actually hearing what I have to say from a humanistic standpoint, I’ve been stranded.  I must admit that some of that is my fault because I kept so many secrets and protected my abusers both out of fear and intimidation.

 

Dear Perpetrators

Those days of fear and intimidation are gone.  I survived without your help.  People are now going to hear what you did to me.  I was once your victim.  Now, I’m the warrior about to face you again and again for as long as it takes for me to have freedom.

Sincerely,

YOUR worst nightmare

Our Thanksgiving plans consist of going to Arkansas to spend with my brother and sister-in-law and our new ‘chosen’ family.  He is then riding back with us to Albuquerque to spend a month with us.  Does the universe know that I’m going to need some extra support in the coming months?   I would have to say undeniably YES!  Big things are going to happen in the next couple of months that are going to be both good and bad.  I see nothing wrong with two people wanting to promote healing together.  Sometimes all I need is my big brother as comfort.  And sometimes all he needs is his equally crazy sister to tell him that things will get better.  Nothing but good can come from this.  I will not only have my dear son and wife here as comfort.  But, my big brother is going to be here to push me in a way that no other person on this earth can do.  We also have over 20 years of jokes and laughter to catch up on.  So, my dear brother, thank you in advance for the comfort and support that only you can give in the next couple of months.

What people don’t understand about mine and Levi’s relationship is that just being around each other for less than an hour, we already begin healing.  So, having a man that I’ve always trusted when I was always told that he was “bad news” is something that I can still laugh about today.  He saved my life many years ago and I can only hope to repay the debt one day. The boys/men that I was told I could trust raped and molested me physically and emotionally.

Since, my only sibling has been AWOL  since I ‘came out’ as being gay, she made a choice and I made mine.  I have two brothers named Levi Pierce and Chris Pierce that I can depend on no matter what.  My sibling’s name, unfortunately, has slowly been forgotten.  I have a beautiful family and extended family with absolutely no blood relations, no matter what her choices are.

Levi and Chris Pierce and all of our ‘chosen’ family in Arkansas, thank you for loving me and my family unconditionally.   Charlene Pierce, thank you for loving my brother and being patient enough to be his wife. LOL. Levi, thank you for staying off the damn motorcycles for this long!  I love you and can’t wait to see you soon!

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Tears Of A Clown 3

Tears of a Clown 3

9.8.14

“Anyone who has a continuous smile on his face conceals a toughness that is almost frightening.” 
― Greta Garbo

When Levi got back to his room, I was so relieved!  Now, I could see for myself that he had made it through surgery safely.  Not without battle wounds, but he was alive.  I told him, “Bro, I’m still here.”  I could tell that between the anesthesia and pain meds that he didn’t know whether to ‘scratch his watch or wind his butt.”  I left him in the caring hands of his wife, brother and mother.  I could now breathe another sigh of relief.  Mel and Marshall came by and picked me up from the hospital to go something to eat.  To me, it had been a long day that was well worth the stress.

The next couple of days were spent making small talk and getting to know his family.  Marshall continued to play with Boudreaux, Levi’s new grandson.  Chris, Charlene and his mom all seemed to be competing for the “Caregiver of the Year Award.”  They were amazing at how they were attending to him.  I’m not sure what the exact situation was, but I was introduced by his family as his “sister.”  Now, between him and me we’ve always called each other brother and sister.  His own family seeing, accepting and seemingly understanding our relationship also was the ray of sunshine that my heart seemed to need to feel.

I had just recently been wrapped up in some of my own darkness.  This whole trip was beginning to feel like the ray of light that I had been searching for.  I’ve looked back and have been able to recall this exact feeling.  I’ve wondered why this has made such a big difference mentally for me.  What I’ve deduced from this situation is this:

  1.  My brother needed me and I was able to get there.  I might’ve been a mess, but I got there like we had always promised each other.
  2.  My ‘security blanket’ was finally back in my life….him.
  3.   I had just been ACCEPTED, by his friends and family, for who I was even at my weakest moment.  I wasn’t able to keep the mask on because I had been weakened by my own fear.  And they still accepted me and all of me.

I must admit that it was pretty eerie at first.  Everything for me has always come with conditions except for a few very close friends, close family and my parents.  Even my ex-husband told me that he didn’t understand how my dad accepted my mother for who she is without conditions. He told me that loving someone like that wasn’t even possible.   So, this situation with Levi’s friends and family and their acceptance and total disregard for the fact that I was gay, legally married and have a 2.5 year old kid didn’t even seem to phase them.  They knew that I loved their friend and family member and that was all that counted.

I’ve listened to stories from almost everyone there about what a big part he has played in their lives.  I can honestly say that I wasn’t surprised by what I was hearing.  Another thing that he and I have in common is the fact that if someone’s in need of help, we will always be there for them.  You can say that it has something to do with the way we were raised; the expectations of being from the south; or our own childhood trauma that’s had influence.  What I can say is this…”Fighting the battles of abuse and life on your own is not easy nor is it fair.”  Therefore, and I can only speak for myself, when I say that after my 8th grade school year that I have always vowed that no one that I knew and/or loved would EVER have to fight a battle on their own again.  I will admit that he and I both don’t know when to keep our mouths shut at times.   I would take that flaw rather than having any of my friends and family fight a senseless battle on their own.

When he was finally discharged and sent home, he wanted to ride in our vehicle because it was higher.  We got back to his and Charlene’s house and the cooking began.  He was in excruciating pain.  So, I helped to make sure he was comfortable.  I knew these last few hours would be my last for a little while.  We were heading back to Albuquerque early in the morning.  We sat, laughed and told stories with as many people that would sit and listen.  As the time passed, we began to try and play, “Let’s Make a Deal” with our wives just so we could have those last remaining moments together.  We honestly sounded like two kids who wanted candy at the store.

Finally, it was time and I must say goodbye to one of my closest friends.  He and I didn’t shed tears in front of everyone.  I hugged him and told him I loved him.  I reminded him that I was just a text, phone call or instant message away.  He told me, “I still can’t believe you and your family came all this way to see me.”  I simply told him, “You were not the one that was on the other end of that phone line when I was talking to Charlene.  Don’t ever doubt what I will do for you no matter what you may consider as insignificant. You are my BROTHER.”

I was fine going back to the motel because for the past few days that was our routine.  When we got the car loaded in the morning and pulled out of the parking lot of the motel, I  began to see and feel the tears begin to fall.  All I felt was the pull and the hurt of the separation between us on my heart.  He was in great hands and I knew that.  Emotionally, I just left my brother.  That was a feeling that no word could magically soothe.  I cried most of the 13 hours it took to drive back home.  And yes, the night I left him, he did the same thing.  He is a man with feelings and I have never shamed him for that.

I look back on this trip and can do nothing but shed tears.  They are tears of what could have happened. They are tears of what happened.  And they are tears of joy for my family being completely embraced by some people who had only heard my name until we met.  I now have the peace of knowing that I have several more “chosen” family members living in Arkansas.

I have heard their stories about our beloved “Spunky.”  I’ve laughed a lot and cried with them.  They have also laughed at the beautiful memories that we have of us as rebellious children.  Also, things that were shared with me by individuals, is how very big his heart is even now.  How he has taken people in and helped “clean” them up.  We both seem to lean towards the people that need help.  I guess maybe that’s why I enjoy working with populations that make a lot of people cringe.  We both have a very strong line of STUPID/HARDHEADEDNESS that comes out in us at times.  But, the one thing Levi and I still have that never changed is our love and respect for each other as human beings.

We’ve made mistakes and lots of them.  We have had little victories that maybe he and I will only understand.  But, my dear and very precious brother, I must say that through all the mistakes, to me you are not only a success as a human.  YOU ARE A SUCCESS AS A MAN!

And once again…..the “Tears of a Clown” are falling.

#Thispuzzledlife