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A key word that you will see:

Fragmentation: a mental process where a person becomes intensely emotionally focused on one aspect of themselves, such as “I am angry” or “no one loves me,” to the point where all thoughts, feelings and behavior demonstrate this emotional state, in which, the person does not or is unable to take into account the reality of their environment, others or themselves and their resources. This is a term that my therapist and I use and is on the continuum of dissociation.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Entry: May 29, 2005 ~ Evening


Today immediately when my husband came home from church, he wanted to talk. He asked, if I knew that he was angry about yesterday. I told him that I figured he was. He said he was angry that I left the house without telling him where I was going. I also told him why I was angry yesterday. He said that he didn't know because I didn't say anything. He said that he understood that I was going through a rough time, but that he wanted me to treat him with respect.

I felt like he was scolding me and felt really bad. I began to tear up, but I don't think he knew. Then, he said I could go back to what I was doing. I took a shower and cut. I just felt so bad.

So, now do I not only not want to talk about what I already wrote because I'm scared, but I don't want to tell you about how I acted...afraid you are going to take his side and I'll end up feeling worse.

I don't think I can handle trying to see you tomorrow and maybe the whole week. I just don't know. I just feel so bad

Feeling worse now that I left you the messages and that my husband just asked me if I was afraid of him because he said all afternoon it was like we were just roommates. I just told him that I wasn't feeling well.

Thinking about purchasing the watermelon flavored vodka and taking my medications. Just go to sleep forever, find somewhere to go to jump. Go into the garage tonight and leave the engine running after taking my medications with the vodka.

Note: I was angry, scared, feeling like I was bad and fragmenting (letting my reactionary brain take over without any awareness of the cognitive part that knew better.) My husband who was in individual therapy every other week was seeing the same therapist and was learning how not to fragment (or become reactive) himself. He learned very quickly for both our sake, but sometimes I still get angry when I can't get him to fight with me just so that I can feel bad. This is called projection.

Again, not crying is an issue. It still is like the moment I feel a little bit of tearing up I shut it down just as I've always done since I was a baby. If I didn't that meant getting hurt. I've learned well.

Pushing everyone away when I need them the most. Part of the on-going borderline dilemma. It is terrifying to have any closeness and when it is there I don't trust it at all. But, I really want it, but don't believe it can happen or terrifies me.

Looking back, I was really scared because the suicidal thoughts seemed to be out of control some. Maybe, more than some. So hard to admit. During my overdose in school, both my mother and step-father started yelling at me and my mother became hysterical in the emergency room. My friend's mother had taken me to emergency, so they got there after I was admitted to the emergency room. The nurses had them leave the room. That was a good thing, but no one asked or maybe never noticed the lateral superficial cuts on both of my wrists.

Back then, not much was known, so I was release because my mother promised to have me see a therapist who I saw twice. He believed or want to believe me when I said I was okay. I've never really been, "okay." We never talked about it again. Well, other than my mother saying I was dramatic...I was in deep trouble!!! No one to talk to and no one that would listen and believe me.

I mention that I cut. I cut during this event because I felt really bad, needed something calming and soothing and wanted to numb out. At this point in time, cutting meant with a razor blade at least fifty each on the upper thigh each cut had to draw blood. If it did not, I had to do the cut over. Sometimes, I would alternate side, so at times, I would have up to 200 on each leg. I made sure that it was always high enough, so I could wear my shorts and skirts without it showing even when I sat down. I did stain some of my clothing, but most of the time I was careful enough. Geoffrey did not know the extent of it, but knew that I did not need medical attention.


Anonymous said...

Great courage to you for posting the way you do at this blog - we admire you for this!

A treats awaits you over at GO! Smell the flowers in the next day or 2 so keep em peeled!!

Healthy Rgds,

Jim & Em.

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