I spent Saturday in a dark place in the AM but by the evening had such a phenomenal time with my friends I ended up back where I started on my journey. Back to who I was and I’m stuck there. I don’t hate it though. I feel like my old self. I feel capable and strong and resilient. And yet… I have an understanding that there are parts of me that need more care that I’m currently capable of giving them. I’ll trust my work in therapy should help with that.
I still struggle to know where I will land as a person. What will the picture of me look like when I’ve traveled more than a few hundred feet on my journey? Will she be kind, empathetic, creative, and passionate? Will she still be strong and confident? Wasn’t I already those things?
Last night I sat down with R to do some financial planning. It can be stressful but we always land in a good place and re-evaluate to set up the best plan for the future. After the discussion, I decided to catch him up on what I’ve been working on in counseling. I explained DID again in better detail because now I have a better understanding of what it means (to some degree, I’m still very much learning). He took it so fucking well. I’m literally starting to realize how god-damned lucky I am to have the life I have and that’s something to feel immense gratitude for – as well as hope for the future.
And in some ways I am that… and in others I still feel… like this person I am currently is blocking most of my deeper emotion. I only slept a few hours after the party on Saturday and by all accounts should have been massively hung over and .. wasn’t. And have not needed to sleep much; appetite is gone. Why can’t there ever just be balance? We drank a lot of whiskey last night and I got about five hours of sleep and I woke up to hearing myself whimpering. When I woke up I laid there looking at the ceiling and I felt something… not good. I looked inside and realized Little was back. I haven’t heard from her in about a week or so. She was crying.. sobbing on the floor of the void – darkness around her.
I looked at her and felt something like… sorry? for her… my emotions are pretty shut off right now… so I did my best. Oddly, the voice inside asked her…. “Do you want someone to have sex with you? [Would that make you feel better?]” She looked at me hesitantly, shamefully.. and then nodded and disappeared.
What the actual fuck.
I want to be more exasperated about this… but I think.. there is truth there. Little learned that care comes in many abusive forms; sexual gratification, violence, and control. I don’t know how or why she learned that… but that’s what she thinks are acceptable forms of care. Anything to get some attention is better than nothing at all. I’m sorry I’m ignoring you – maybe I’m not strong enough, maybe I just needed the break, maybe I really don’t care.
Maybe it’s just easier to let you suffer than acknowledge you exist.
Right now, I want to feel more outraged by all that… I want to feel anything about it. But I feel nothing. It just is. AC is that you? Probably… I’ve been quite productive lately. I think this is who I spent a lot of time being, for years, before my brother died. I don’t have any desire to make any art… but lots of passion for min-maxing my finances and getting practical stuff done. That’s definitely AC’s calling card.
There is something stirring in the blackness of my mind but I’m not sure I’m ready to look her squarely in the face, at least AC and the rest of the system don’t seem to think so … but, when do I get to make my own decisions?
***
Got hit with some emotions this afternoon due to my brothers estate stuff. I decided to take a nap. As I was falling asleep Little appeared…
Me: “What did you mean earlier? Who did you mean?”
Little: (long pause)
Little: Papá.
Me: …
I don’t believe this… like I don’t actually believe her. I think maybe she’s just confused. Even if I did… it’s not me.
But I wonder, is that why you get so grossed out when they call you baby girl? Is that why since the flashback a week ago you can’t stop seeing flashes of mutilating yourself between your legs? So much shame and disgust…visualized in a desire for ripping myself a part.
A few weeks ago he whispered in your ear as he looked at your 13 year old niece… “She grew up fast didn’t she?” And there it was…that absolute disgust.
I want to vomit.
My body was never my own.
It has never been my own.
I don’t exist.
I am disconnected and I don’t think I want to be plugged back into this body.
Why didn’t he just choke me to death when he had the chance?
I hear it.
Call of the void,
call of the void.