Hello

I am crashing so hard today. I feel the siren song of getting very sick coursing through my veins. I hate the petty self destructiveness. I hate that I am so petty. The self hate fuels and justifies the self destructiveness. And I spiral down down down. 

I am going to write here now. Ever since the system restructure the old blog hasn't felt like home. And I don't care if shit's private anymore. 

Last week I told the psychologist about DID and being worried about being dismissed or being too much and causing burnout. I wasn't planning on telling her about DID stuff. The psychiatrist being so wibbly wobbly about it had made me feel very vulnerable and groundless. I was scared that it would happen again.

But my vague terms for things must have cued her and she dug a bit deeper. I switched a lot during that appointment so I can't really remember the chronology of things. But I told her about how I'd spent all my energy as a child trying to appear normal, to not let on how scared and alone I felt, to not be another source of chaos for my stressed out family. And how as I got older it became impossible to fake it successfully. I couldn't fake a close friendship because thee were no scripts from tv or observable from others to use. 

I went on exchanges and a work co-op in Ecuador because I needed a cover. Faking the transition from child to adolescent was simply not possible. So I managed to avoid being observed. When I got to university things started to unravel. I had no reason to maintain the facade now that I was independent from my family and far far away from my hometown. 

But it was a shock to be genuine. It would feel so exhilarating and I would be so flooded with real feelings that I would crash. Numb out. Dissociate. My progress since then has largely been about being able to move more freely between these very different worlds, to remember experiences between worlds and eventually be able to stand simultaneously in multiple worlds and act from that. 

Food is woven through all this. Not eating keeps me in a particular   "world" and binging moves me to another. Focusing on self destruction and orbiting around food is an anchor. A part of me that runs through all the worlds. Breadcrumbs I sprinkle on the path so I can find my way home. 

My eating disorder has been an excellent tool it turns out for navigating my messy mind. 

So what's happening right now? I'm not sure exactly. I think it has to do with not feeling confident that I can switch to an appropriate part when I need to. Not being sure I can pick myself up after getting swamped by all the feels that haven't been processed. I'm not sure but I'm gong to think about it and hopefully bring it up in my session on Monday.