2016, Bella, Conversations From the Inside, DID, dissociative identity disorder

More Than What You See

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This post contains strong language… hell, we contain strong language at times.  Its obviously not exact, because my memory is never that good, but it’s pretty close. This is a raw and very rough glimpse into a typical moment in an average day for us.  -Bella

 

A peek into this morning… inside:

I wake up, its like 9:30am…..

“Its too bright, go back to sleep. Under the covers would work best. Like now”

“i feel ouchies. i no like ouchies”

“why ouchies? we hurt? who hurt us? we had bad dreams”

At this point the chatter continues as I groan and roll over. I am now seeing ongoing flashbacks of some really messed up dreams from last night that I can no longer remember.

“This isn’t sleeping… ”

“Don’t listen to them, get up, we’re thirsty and we need a shower.”

“Shower. Now. Get up. Out of bed.”

“Wait, where are you going? Make the bed…..”

“uh… you forgetted clothes sissy….”

I yell to Rhya to share the bathroom. The kids are dressed and say they have had breakfast. I duck into the shower. As soon as I step into the water a massive noise starts.

“whats that? whys there noise? are we safe? is that reals noise?

“Yeah, what the fuck is that?”

“ears hurts and ouchies on skin an neck ouchies we ouchies a lot we hurts we hurts we hurts lots and lots land lots and lots!!!!”

“Someone wake up Cadie, we need help managing this”

“hungry. lots hugry”

“NO EATING. THIS IS CUZ WE EAT TOO MUCH WE BEIN PUNISHED WITH OUCHIES”

“jesus christ everyone shut the fuck up!”

As I step out of the shower, the noise stops. Literally stops.

“Okay, so…. that was weird.”

“fuck you, shut up”

“clothes are touchin us.”

“No kidding, thats what they do.”

“don’t like it. too many ouchies”

“Stop it.”

“You stop it. Leave her alone”

“All little ones out of the front… everyone, except Alyssa, under the age of 13 goes to the resort…. NOW”.

“The clothes are still touching us”

“Seriously, stop it.”

“No really, they are touching us”

“You get out of here too”

At this point I take a few minutes to go outside with Dad. I just stand out there in the garage with Dad and listen to him talk about Patty while he charges the AC. It feels calming and a bit normal to be out there, with someone safe, doing nothing, but feeling safe.
I come back in because I need water and I toy with breakfast. But I feel bad about eating. I can’t get past that feeling and I can’t decide on what to eat. Common sense says to make a shake but the powder is expensive and I don’t want to use it all, plus, I want to actually eat something. I can’t eat cereal. All cereal will skyrocket blood sugar because it is all carbs and sugar and cereal has way too many bad memories associated with it. We are out of cheese sticks. So I decide to sit down and think about it. I decide to type out this account of my morning instead.

The anxiety of it all, coupled with the pain in our ears, head, neck, and two small areas of sunburn, plus the body memories associated with pain in shoulders and neck, added to eating issues, makes today overwhelming and almost unbearable and all I’ve done is take a shower and sit here. Mom reminded me to stop picking at my face, and I’m pretty sure I was picking at my arm. I think I’m a skin picker when I’m overwhelmed.

 

 

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