#76 Entrenched Warfare

Alone on this battlefield, I am using up energy by constantly changing sides. I fight awhile on one side and then race across to engage in combat over there. I pause only to bind up wounds and take a short rest.

Everyone who was watching from the sidelines has moved out of range, into the growing shadows, beyond the hill.

The sun is setting. I am alone. I am scared.

I have no way of knowing where the carnage will occur next. I do not know who will get hurt or how bad their injuries will be. The observers have become bored and gone home. Combatants die on battlefields; no one misses them.

How long can I run back and forth between opposing trenches? How long can I wage war on both sides? How long is too long?

#75 Sometimes

#74 I Don't Even Like Her!

I woke up this morning thinking...
"But I don't even like her!"

Even if I am avoiding saying this,
and trying not to think it,
she knows that I feel this way.

"Little Rylee" knows
that I don't like her,
or that I am angry at her,
or that I am afraid of her.

There are no secrets from her,
although she keep plenty of secrets from me!

Could this be one of the reasons
that make me so afraid of her???

#73 I Miss You.

#72 The Voice From Beyond the Wall

At some point in my life I erected a wall within myself. Maybe it was so that I would not have to listen to "her" babbling, crying or screaming. Whatever the reason, it has lead, I think, to the situation that I find myself in now.
It is true that I have often heard the voice from beyond the wall say things that surprised and frightened me. I immediately tossed them back over the wall and buried my bewilderment.
The very serious internal injuries that I have perpetrated against my body appalled me, even more than it did other people. Although I admitted that, at the time, I was the only one home (I was sure of that), I could honestly tell someone that only a truly crazy person could do such things...and I am not crazy! I just never understood where the capacity for that much pain came from (and I still don't).
Then I went and did it again.
The little one beyond the wall is still saying incomprehensible stuff but I will not deny her reality anymore. Together we are tearing down the damn wall.

#71 She Wants to Talk

When my therapist gave me her e-mail address back in August, I wrestled with what I would (allow myself) to write to her about. I realize, now, that I was deciding whether I would give "little Rylee” access. It did seem obvious, as it has all my life, that she would not be allowed to communicate and I was able to enforce that ban even on August 18th when she hurled herself out of her box.

All my life, when I have found myself on the edge, I have had to try to keep her inside until I got home, or at least until, I was alone. There was never a serious possibility that I would let her out into the world. Her feelings; her experiences were to be keep stored away, out of site.
She must not be seen or heard.

Without a doubt, she has taken over in therapy, on some occasions in the past. Even if I can’t quite remember the details, I know when she has been there. But she did it without my permission.
The reason I wrestled with the possibility of her communicating with my therapist back in August is because of how badly "little Rylee" wants to talk to her.
Now it is time to unlock the box.
She has finally found someone that she trusts.

#70 The MEs That Are ME

#69 torture

I know very well that I should not be writing here right now. Hopefully common sense will prevail before I click "post."

But I am so discouraged ("furious") right now. My "little self" has been showing up in therapy for 5 times now. Over the years she has only appeared to another person, under extreme conditions. Extreme fear and/or extreme rage.
But she has been appearing to my therapist for these last few weeks. She has been gaining confidence and losing her fear. She has been sharing her feelings and even some of her memories. She has only done this because of the level of trust we were able to provide for her.

Today that went bust. Therapists have private lives. They need to go off and do other stuff! Maybe lots of it. Maybe for ever!

I lay alone in the dark for a thousand years and no one came.
Who told you to give me hope that it will all be over one day?
Why did you make me think there would be no more burns or blood?
What right do you have to use "a little hope" to prolong the torture!

We are all truly truly alone here.

#68 Pain Unites

#67 I'm the One!

I'm the one who has to go back out into the world and pretend that nothing happened.

If it is the embarrassment of being seen at my desk crying like a baby;
or trying to hide the bandages on my arms;
or enduring the humiliation of the burn clinic week after week;
or avoiding mention of three months spent in a psychiatric hospital;

I'm the one!
I'm the one who has to clean up the mess.
I'm the one who has to explain it away.
I'm the one who tries to hide the truth.

I know that I am the adult here, but I resent it.

I'm the one who has to go back out into the world and pretend that nothing happened.

#66 The Three F's.

I've always heard
that fight or flight
are the choices we have
when fear overwhelms us.

Now I've learned
there has always been
a third choice on the books
if you think you are about to die.

I call it squatting down in the road
I experience it as numbing out
I feel it as floating away
It's known as dissociation.

It turns out
It's not unusual.
Not everyone has the strength to fight.
Not everyone has the means to flee.

Little kids
in particular
will find that their bodies
make the decision for them.

With or without
our permission or knowledge
Fighting or Fleeing
loses out to Freezing.

#65 Words to (not) live by.

#64 What Do They Do With Snitches?

I have used up all my energy, fighting this decades-long battle between she who remembers and she who refuses to remember.
Now that I have declared a truce, what happens now?

I have seen what she has written, many, many times, over the years. In the light of day, I tore it up, or put it away, and I forgot it.
Over and over again, I forgot it!

Today, I am keeping a piece of her writing on my desk, so that I know she is real. She is not a figment of my imagination!

But I am very, very scared? The tape-recorded message, "don't think about it, don't feel anything about it, don't tell anyone about it" has finally been erased. And I am scared.

What do they do with snitches???

#63 Flashback!

I used to be convinced that my bpd flare-ups came on as a result of stress. Not so this year.
For months, my anxiety level has been climbing, but my life is more-or-less crisis-free.
So why the anxiousness? And the meltdowns? And the firestorms?
And now, a major flashback!!!

I think I remember a few months ago, feeling good enough about myself to tell myself that I wasn't afraid anymore; that I have nothing to lose if I face up to my demons; that it is OK to remember.
I don't even know what I meant by that.

But, it apparently opened a door somewhere.
Now my body has remembered something truly horrific.

It is early days so I don't know what this is going to do to me.
But I'm still alive.
Uninjured.
Weirdly calm actually.

#62 Who's There?