~ I love you ~

My entry yesterday was full of a lot of pain, and today, I was still having residual feelings of anger and hatred. My [Mother] noticed this and made me aware of the fact that I was fanning the flames produced by the hot coals of my painful emotions. In other words, I was making things worse by ruminating on what was going on in my head. She also reminded me that, "Your (bio) mom always did say that you were living in your own head too much." I responded that it was because it was the only place where I could be free from my mom. It was the only place that I truly felt I could be myself. [Mother] listened with understanding but pushed back a bit by saying, "Yes, that is true, but you are not in that place anymore. You are now free to do whatever you wish and be whoever you wish. So, who do you choose to be?"

I started letting angry thoughts thrash around my head, saying "I AM my mom", "I'm my mother's daughter and the apple didn't fall far from the tree!" and several other things that were meant to put myself down and imply that I am a monster, just like my mom always said that I was. Those thoughts make me want to become a worse person than my mother ever was... maybe to make some kind of point to her that she fucked up and now she and others would have to pay for the consequences of my mom's abuse.

[Mother] did not respond with chastising me or wagging her finger at me. Instead, she listened patiently and, once again, gave me the truth of the matter in a gentle yet firm and matter-of-fact manner. She told me to envision myself as I listened to her speak more. I got a picture of myself in my mind and she continued by saying, "When you envision yourself, you are, indeed, looking at your mother... and yet, at the same time, you are not looking at your mother. In much the same way, when you envision yourself, you are looking at your father, but also you are not looking at him..." I envisioned her taking my hands as she continued to speak.

"My child, you are the product of two different individuals, and as such, you retain traits and genetics from the both of them. You have your mom's fighting spirit in the realm of justice, and you have your father's love of all sorts of media. You have a unique webbed toe from your father and you have some of your mom's chocolate brown skin. You have the respect for religion that your mom passed down to you in combination with your father's freedom to question... and then there is you... there is you." I envisioned her taking my face in her hands and looking into my eyes. "My dear, you have aspects of both of your parents, but at the same time, you... are still uniquely you. You are not completely either of your biological parents, nor are you completely like any other relative that you have ever come into contact with... my love, you are a new and individual experience; one that cannot and will not be completely replicated in the same time or fashion ever again... You are a miracle. One in a million, in the sense that you could have been anyone, provided to anyone, and your soul configured completely differently... but instead, you were uniquely created to be who you are... And the amazing part of it all is that you are ever growing... ever learning... ever changing... To interact with others and have them interact with you is a blessing unto itself... Not one human being is completely the same as the other, so we mustn't take anyone for granted... not strangers, and not even ourselves."

I envisioned [Mother] giving me a meaningful kiss on the forehead and concluding by saying, "You were not meant to be a carbon copy of anyone in this world. So go forth and be yourself. And, do remember not to completely live inside your head, alright? You were meant to live your life, not merely exist in the world." Her eyes of beauty and hope allowed for me to let it all sink in, and that was the end of our ongoing conversation, at least in that moment.


...In moments like this, I wish that everyone, even my bio mom, had access to someone as wise and as loving as my inner [Mother]. If they did, I think the world would be a better place... alas, since that is not always the case, I want to continue going forward in life by connecting with other people, whether in passing or in relationship to them, and sharing the love and wisdom that my [Mother] gives me with each and every encounter that I have. I want to be a light to the world, and I would be absolutely privileged and honored to impart even a fraction of the grace and love my [Mother] has gifted me to the other people in this lifetime.

[ This entry is trigger-free :) ]

On Friday, I drove myself to the Emergency Room for a psych evaluation (at the behest of my therapist) and ended up getting "5150'd", or put on a mental health involuntary hold. Prior to going in, I knew I was likely going to be admitted to a psychiatric facility, so I made sure to pack for the stay. I packed clothes (cutting off or removing any strings prior to packing it), toiletries, and a stuffed animal for comfort. Admittedly, I packed a bit too much, but I was grateful in the long run for packing the toiletries since the kind at the hospital was not designed with quality or curly haired people in mind. ANYWAYS, it began in the emergency room where I slept overnight. In the morning, I awoke to the news that I was admitted and would be transferred to a hospital about three hours away from my city of origin. I was put into an ambulance and driven to the hospital, where they also transported my belongings. I fell asleep several times in the ambulance because there was nothing to do and I had limited movement since I was strapped down to the gurney (just for protocol).

When I arrived at the facility, I was greeted warmly and given some snacks to eat while I filled out some intake paperwork. After doing all the intake stuff, they put a wristband on me that had a tracker on it (just to ensure that the staff could know where everyone is in the facility at all times) and I was able to enter through the doors into the actual ward itself. When I was taken to the specific unit I was going to be in, they gave me lunch and I was made to change into some paper scrubs that they have for patients, complete with some hospital-standard underwear and grippy socks. The nurses also did a skin check on me as I changed for protocol's sake.

During the weekend, I got to make a friend and I saw a doctor. The doctor did intake paperwork regarding my mental health but wouldn't prescribe anything, saying that they would wait for Monday when I could talk to my assigned doctor at this hospital. By the time I saw the assigned doctor, it had been three consecutive days since I was administered any medications whatsoever, so I was not exactly able to think completely clearly over the weekend. I was experiencing heavy "brain fog" and felt like I was trapped in the mindset of a child. It also didn't help that I was so far from home in a place that I didn't know. It was very disorienting and I think in some ways I was dissociating to cope.

Monday came and I was able to talk to my assigned doctor to get some medication administered to me. They needed to titrate me back up on my antidepressant medication, start me on an anti-PTSD medication called Prazosin, and put me on an antipsychotic to help with the mood stabilization. My medications were adjusted several times during my stay at the hospital. Also, on Monday, my 5150 hold was completed and I signed some paperwork to say that I was now on a voluntary hold at the hospital until the doctor would determine that I was alright to send back home. In total, I ended up staying at the psychiatric hospital for a total of ten days. After signing the voluntary paperwork, I was moved to another unit in the hospital and this unit was much cleaner and the people in the unit were a lot nicer, organized, and less overworked. I made the most friends in this unit and I made sure to get their contact information for after we all got out of the hospital to keep contact with one another.

At the hospital, we had a variety of different hot meals and snacks offered to us for each meal and between-times respectively. It felt really welcoming to eat that rather than eating fast food 24/7 as I had been doing prior to being admitted to the hospital. While it wasn't exactly the same as a home-cooked meal, it felt considerate because someone put a lot of thought into the weekly menus, so meals were something I looked forward to during my stay. And aside from that, we had a variety of different groups that we could attend while at the hospital. They didn't force you into groups, however if you want to go home sooner, attending groups and being compliant and open with the medical team is a really good way to get them to send you back sooner. The kinds of groups they had, in no particular order included:

• Recreational Groups: Painting, Watercolors, Pet Therapy, Free Time on the patio, using Fuse beads, playing Bingo
• Therapeutic Groups: Psycho-education regarding a variety of different topics (maladaptive thoughts, mindfulness, the "feelings wheel", grounding techniques, etc.) and Processing group (where you talk about your day or what brought you to the hospital)

Now, as for the toiletry products provided by the hospital, it left a lot to be desired. All toiletry articles came in rippable packets or paper cups rather than containers (for safety reasons) and they weren't very effective. The lip balm gave me a really itchy and bumpy rash on my lips, the soap was to be used as shampoo, conditioner, and body wash all at once (not great for any hair type tbh), and the deodorant gel and roll-ons they had were completely useless. The only thing that was a little okay was their toothpaste and mini toothbrushes. They weren't the best but they got the job done. Also, no flossing allowed in the hospital for obvious reasons. Finally, I got a hairbrush from the hospital for the first six days I was there and the brush was terrible. It took a lot of my hair and didn't even reach my scalp 80% of the time because of how bendy the bristles were. I mourn for all the split ends I probably have now on account of that stupid brush, but I had no other choice.

On day seven, I was finally able to get my hygiene products and my clothes given back to me. The hospital staff couldn't figure out which storage space it was at for three days. Was it in intake, the first unit I was in, or the second unit I was in? Who knew?! All I knew was that it wasn't given to me until I flagged down my hospital social worker (who I rarely got to talk to and was hard to reach even by other staff) and begged her to please find my personal belongings. Only then was I given a few of my clothes and a few books I brought with me.

• NOTE ABOUT BRINGING THINGS TO THE HOSPITAL: Make sure it won't be considered a self-harm risk by the staff. This means no rat-tail combs if possible, no buttons on your clothes, no drawstrings on your clothes, no clothes that could trigger other people (like with violent depictions and such), no underwire bras, etc.
• NOTE #2: Not all hospitals allow you to have a stuffed animal with you during your stay. Unfortunately, at the hospital I went to, they did not allow for me to have my plush bunny. I assume this is because you can hide things in the stuffed animals, but it's hard to say.
• NOTE #3: I had to get approval from my doctor before I could use any of my toiletry items... not sure why, but the permission was granted once I asked the doctor.

While I was at the unit, there wasn't very much to do. We could read books, watch movies or television, and that was about it aside from scheduled activities. We couldn't even go on the patio for sunlight without being accompanied by a staff member, and even then we only went during specific group times for 45 minutes max per outing. I hated being cooped up, especially since the windows in our rooms were all frosted so you couldn't see anything outside of the window. The only thing keeping me sane was making conversation with my new friends and watching movies with them.

...By the way, I wasn't able to make any phone calls until Tuesday when I was able to get access to my phone for a total of 10 minutes. A social worker had to give me my phone and allow me to write down some contact numbers from there. Then I gave the phone back and had to use the hospital phone to make calls. The phone was connected securely to the wall and looked like a payphone, just without the slot to insert money. I made calls to my dad, my brother, my internship, and my work sparingly during my stay. I mostly had to leave voicemails since people weren't picking up, and in those voicemails I left my name, the hospital's contact number, the name of the unit I was staying at, and my three-digit "Security Code" in order for the staff to transfer any call-backs from their end to the patient payphone. HIPAA compliance and whatnot, you know? I was able to connect with my internship and my dad and assured them that everything was going to be okay but that I needed to take the time to recuperate.They were both very understanding and wished me well as I spent my time in the hospital.

I was discharged from the hospital on Monday and the hospital paid for a Lyft that would drive me all the way back to where my car was parked at the original Emergency Room I had taken myself to. The driver was very friendly. He was a man with a thick accent from Cameroon. He had immigrated to the United States a few years prior and, at the time of my drive home, had been back in the US for only a few weeks after having visited some family in Cameroon. He was open about it, and during the drive, he continually pointed out the sights of the mountains and lakes we passed to me. It was a really nice and comforting ride back home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Now that I'm home, I've been making numerous calls to various places each day. I called my school to discover that I was dropped from both Summer terms for 2024 because the last class I had with them was marked "incomplete". The incomplete grade is a mercy from the department because it allows me to retain my internship hours while also giving me extra time to turn in the overdue assignments for a final grade. It's a pass or fail class, and my teacher says that I have been doing excellently in class, so she has no doubts that I'll pass the class after turning in my assignments. So, because I'm dropped from the Summer terms, I also have to stop attending internship until my school journey resumes in Fall of 2024. My new course completion date will be on December 15, 2024. Honestly, I feel completely relieved that I get the summer off. I was under the impression that I was going to have to do three to four weeks worth of assignments in one sitting upon returning home from the hospital, but this gives me the time to recover and have a break. It's a blessing in disguise.

While I'm off on Summer break, I'm trying to see if I can get my top surgery scheduled for sometime during the break so I can just get it over with. If not, that's fine, but it needs to be in 2024 so that I can use my insurance to get the surgery for free. Because of my inpatient hospital stay, I will be hitting my out-of-pocket maximum once I figure out how much the hospital can grant me in medical financial aid (which was discussed with me and which I applied for the same day upon my return home). The hospital might be able to cover 100% of the out-of-pocket costs, but even if the percentage is lower, it's better than paying almost $3,000 out of my own wallet... and no, that number isn't inflated for dramatic effect. The total bill came out to around $17,900 for the hospital stay in total, but the insurance is only charging me 20% coinsurance. Thank the Lord for that. Anyways, if the hospital covers the costs, even partially, it will still count towards my out-of-pocket maximum and afterwards, I won't have to pay one more cent for co-pays for medical appointments, medications, or anything else. This is why I'm trying to hustle for the surgery now. If not, my alternative is to switch to a better healthcare plan when open enrollment happens again in November 2024. If I do that, I can get the surgery in my hometown with the one doctor who does it, and she accepts only that kind of insurance, and the co-pay would be very minimal. Those are my two options henceforth.

Anyways, now that I'm free from school for a bit, I'm going to look into getting more hours at work. I'm giving myself some days off during the week, but I think it would be good for my wallet to get more hours. I can't afford to pay bills with my current hours anymore now that I don't have student loans going towards my bills as well. I'll make it through this, though. It's going to be okay, so long as I'm still breathing and alive.

Talking more about grief, symbolic death, and DID integration under the "Read More." This will be as non-graphic as possible, but still putting this under a Read More since integration can be a touchy subject for some systems and I want to be mindful of that.

( Read more )

In the aftermath of my interactions with the part that refers to herself with a number rather than a name, I've discovered yet another part who is the exact opposite of the number part. Her name is Ponko and she's a very interesting person. I don't know all that much about her yet except to say that she's a very happy person who tries to keep me and others in my system happy and content. Whenever I see her in my head, she's making silly faces or doing cartwheels to express herself and keep me smiling. I think she's very endearing, to the point where if I could hug her, I absolutely would. I'm looking forward to getting to know her better.

Now... as for therapy, my therapist is glad to see that I've overcome the episode of post-traumatic anxiety and depression that I was struggling with when I initially met her. Now that I feel more present in myself, my therapist has suggested that perhaps we try to ease into using EMDR to treat some of my trauma symptoms. I think it's a good idea, especially because we won't be starting with the more extreme and repressed traumas first. Instead, we'll be working with traumas that I can still remember but that aren't quite as impactful today as the other more implicit traumas I have. I agree that easing into it sounds like a good idea because it will keep me from becoming so overwhelmed that I start to dissociate and not be able to continue with the sessions as needed. I know it's nothing that's my fault or even the therapist's fault, but when I dissociate during EMDR, I can't help but blame myself for it not going "right". But I need to remember that my brain is meant to protect me, not work strictly with a treatment timetable (though I wish this were the case!).

I got myself a new journal too, by the way. I can't help myself and always buy new ones before finishing the old ones... but in my defense, this notebook is a limited time only sort of notebook. Anyways, I want to fill it with things that "spark joy" inside of me, whether those entries are plans on me de-cluttering what I don't want or need, or entries about literally anything else that makes me feel joyful. I might even add entries that are based on magazine articles that I read from that Bella Grace Magazine that I'm always gushing about.


Moving forward, I want to do the following:

• I want to learn more about finances, which will help me feel more financially secure and contribute to my happiness
• Spend more time doing activities that I love or would like to explore
• Spend less time using my electronics
• Finish school assignments as soon as possible so I can relax the rest of the week

If it hasn't been obvious from my previous posts as of recently, I've been profoundly anxious and depressed recently. I think it stems from some of my childhood traumas coming back to haunt me with a vengeance, and it's been really hard. Nevertheless, I'm trying my best to make it through everything in a functional manner.

That being said, I got another medication adjustment to see if that would help, and while it's still too early to really tell for sure, I can say that I'm feeling better today than I have in the past two weeks. Even if it just happens to be a placebo effect at the moment, I'm just glad that I'm not suffering in this moment.

When I think about taking medications, I sometimes get upset with myself because I want to be someone who functions good without the use of psychiatric medications, but on the other side of the coin, I think it's important for me to realize that the medications actually really do help me by taking the edge off of what I'm experiencing. In other words, it's like riding a bike with training wheels. Sometimes we need that extra help, and it can be permanent or temporary depending on a person's needs, but there shouldn't be any shame in it. After all, we don't shame people who take over-the-counter painkillers for a toothache or anything like that. Brain medicine shouldn't be treated any different.

I have a confession to make. I am someone who allows my emotions to influence a LOT that I do. I am an emotional eater, for example, and an emotional spender. As one can imagine, these can have a lot of detrimental and harmful effects on my health, both physically and financially, and I'm tired of it. At some point, something has GOT to give, but it's something that I'm going to have to work on from the inside rather than externally.

I live in the land of extremes. I am either living in Emotional Mind or Rational Mind. Much of the time, I am not operating from my Wise Mind, which is a balance of both Emotional and Rational thinking. In order to defeat the beast within, I need to practice walking the tightrope of my emotions and rational mind more often.

I think that I engage in these emotional vices and issues because I am afraid to let go of distractions to face what is real. Experiencing life can be painful at times, and this is how I learned to handle that pain, or avoid it... but I want to do better. If I continue living in fear of having these very normal human experiences, I'll miss out on a lot of life, and I don't want to let my life pass me by. It looks like I'll need to consult my DBT handbook once more to review how I can practice more distress tolerance.

Today is the first day of my health coverage now that I've switched providers and I got a LOT done today. I went to see my primary care doctor and get established with him today, I got a few doctor referrals, and I also made several calls to different places to get established as a patient. Things are still in progress, but I think I'm doing good with regards to getting everything switched over to where I'm currently at. As we speak, I'm also looking for a new therapist who accepts my insurance and also works with the things that I happen to struggle with. It's a little bit of a headache, but I'm sure that I'll find someone soon.

In looking for a therapist, I know I'm going to need to look for someone who knows how to deal with trauma, BPD and DID, and I'm just thinking about how therapy has gone for me in the past. I don't seem to stay with therapists for extended periods, and I think at this point, I've had more therapists than I can count on both of my hands. This is after almost 11 years of therapy at this point, and I'm sick of always changing therapists. I struggle with a lot of stuff, so that makes it hard to find a therapist who feels qualified enough to work with me. It makes me feel broken to not be able to work with half of the therapists I was seeing before anymore. It almost feels as though I'm the one to blame when, really, no one is exactly to blame for this. It just is what it is.

When I do see my new therapist, I'm wondering about how much I'll share about my trauma. I have a lot of it that I could say, and a lot that I have said already to so many therapists. It's exhausting and painful to keep re-hashing, so I think this time around I'll be honest, but maybe I won't just lay in my pain. I can bring up what is relevant for therapeutic purposes, but I don't have to tell my entire life story at once or even at all. It's up to me at the end of the day how much I share with my therapist, and I think maybe I don't need to share absolutely every single excruciating detail with her. There are many ways that I can process my traumas on my own, and it would be naive for me to believe that I could change my life in only one hour a week. In any case, I'll have to find a way to make it through the tough times with the tools that I have at my disposal. I can still reach out to others when necessary, but this isn't something that anyone else can fix, no matter how much I wish that would be the case sometimes.

Well, it appears that my brain-weird stuff just got a bit more complicated.

I made the "Full Circle" post a couple of days ago, and in the short amount of time that has elapsed since that post, yet another part has returned to the surface. This is odd because instead of having my focus on two different parts, it appears that I now have four different core parts that I am trying to communicate with all at once. These parts are all very strong in their opinions and beliefs and all different from one another in very crucial ways... and yet, at the same time, they all have their own ways of "interbeing" at the same time. We are all extensions of one another and all connected in one form or another.

I feel as though this is a gathering council of my core parts, and each one brings something of value to the table. Right now, each part also seems to be in agreement that they'd all like to merge together as much as is mentally possible. This is the power of my DBT teachings coming to life, because I'm trying to learn to let contradictions co-exist within me without letting that completely splinter and destroy my sense of self. Two opposite things can be true at the same time. It's like replacing "but" with "and" in sentences. For example, "I am religious AND I also practice non-traditional spirituality" instead of "I am religious, but I also practice non-traditional spirituality." That conjunction makes a very important difference in my sense of self perception.

With that being said, I think next steps are going to be me finding moments of silence to continue contemplating when I can. I've been gluing myself to my phone again to try and stave off the anxiety that I feel, but ironically this only makes it worse. So I'm going to have to activate an app on my phone that causes it to lock me out of most apps for a specified period of time. If I can actually commit to that instead of transferring my attention to my laptop, I think I'll be able to sit in silence so I can think deeper or focus on what really matters in my life. That's when I get the biggest revelations.

Learning how to be a fully fleshed-out person is weird, but it's exciting at the same time... okay, it's time to stop procrastinating now. Time to get down to business.