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#334465 - 06/23/10 10:04 AM My body has a mind of it's own... (long)
BigV Offline

Registered: 07/20/09
Posts: 86
Loc: Western Canada
Hey guys, it's been a while since I last posted...just when I thought that all has been going well, I have yet another set back.

To begin with, I'm pretty sure I lost my job. Technically, I quit, and I'm pretty sure they won't want me back after what I pulled today. As well, I became dissociative again, but this time with a twist. I'll get to that eventually.

WARNING: This is going to be a long one, so if it seems as though I'm digressing, it's simply because I'm trying figure out what the hell happened, and what was going through my head.

I am (was) a canvasser for a non-profit organization. I go door to door and try to convince people to give me money. It involves a great deal of confidence, bravado, guile and charm to pull off. Some times I have all these things in abundance, but sometimes I just can't get myself to do it. Today was one of those days.

When I went into the office, before knocking up potential donors, I took it upon myself to apologize for something to my canvas manager. I told her I was sorry for putting her on the spot in front of the new canvassers, when I was telling her about one person who was particularly belligerent with me. I usually just say thank you, and walk away from such people, but this guy had crossed a line when he began to follow me to the sidewalk, and at that point(the point at which I was walking down the sidewalk), it turned into verbal assault. I won't go into detail about what he said, but I turned around, gave him a quick, calm tongue lashing, turned around, and simply allowed him to continue foaming at the mouth. This may seem like a digression, but it's not. The new canvassers have to be properly trained, and the manager has to assert herself as the leader. This can be a pain in the ass for a women who may have been taught to acquiesce to men, and I was being particularly pointed about the issue. At some point during our debate, I realized I was not being tactful, and that I should have approached her about this in private. So naturally, I came into work today, explained myself, apologized, and she also offered an apology. All seemed well.

I walked away, and rejoined the team in canvass office. She then signaled me back. She informed me that I would not be going on the canvass trip up the coast (these are trips we take to area codes that are to far away for day trips.) She said it was because they had to many people going on the trip, that there wasn't enough seats, and that they decided they didn't want me to go because my nightly average was simply to low. Basically, I got shafted, and the newer, as well as older canvass members were going because their averages were higher. Fair enough. She asked if I had any problems with this. To be honest, I was to taken back by it, and had to little time to formulate a rational sounding response.

So I went back to my canvass team, and kept to myself, not knowing what to do or say. I really wanted to go on this trip. I also really want to start doing better, for reasons I will explain in a bit.

As we getting ready to leave, the other canvass manager asked me if, while the other canvassers were on their way to the future canvass trip, if they could pick up my tent and let one of the new canvassers use it while they are up there. What else could I say other then yes?

And so we left to go canvassing for the evening, I didn't talk to anyone in the van as we made our way to the areas we'd be canvassing. I find it really hard to explain what feelings I was having at the time. I guess I could sum it up as: anger, hopelessness, failure, rejection, and so on. I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. I tried to just suck it up, and move on.

When I was dropped off, I simply sat down in the park next to my turf, and went over my notes. I went over them again, and again, and several more times. I checked my watch: 6:00, then 6:10, 6:15, until it was quarter to. I tried to get up, and managed to do so. I tried moving towards the first door to start the night, but I couldn't. This wasn't just mental hesitation, as in not wanting to do it. In my mind, I kept on telling myself that I must, but my body wouldn't move. It simply wouldn't budge. It's as if someone else was controlling my body. I felt like a puppet, with someone yanking on the strings. I realized at that point that I had disassociated, and that it was progressing quickly. My sense of hopelessness, and failure were turning into utter pointlessness. I had the distinct feeling that I was sick of having to be strong, tired of having to maintain these pretences, to pretend like I can keep on doing this.

Don't get me wrong, I love working for this organization, I've been working and volunteering with them since I was fourteen, that's almost seventeen years. That's a hell of a long time to be associated with any organization at my age, especially now-a-days. I'm not bitter or angry at these guys at all. The founder and one of the head board members are two of my biggest role models, and these aren't just flowery tree huggers, I use to trail blaze with these guys a week at a time, and I was hoping to do so again this summer.

So I phoned my canvass managers and let them know that I quit, and that I wasn't going to be canvassing anymore, and that was that. All the while, I was distant, emotionally detached. I had that distinct hollow feeling, and everything seemed far off, and innert.

I then walked from one side of the city to the other. From my turf, back to the office. I'm not sure why I did this, I could have just bused it, and there was no point in going to the office, because I knew it was unlikely that anyone would be there. Sure enough, the door was locked, so I got on the train and went back to the Ďburbs.

That whole time, from having left the park, to getting back home, to logging into Male Survivor, I felt dead, inert, inanimate, hollow. I was dissociated. Thanks to having written this, I'm starting to feel those pangs of emotion again. Even the pain and sadness feels good after that hollow feeling. And I think after having written a bit about it, I'm beginning to realize what it was that I was feeling and doing.

I was ending the whole thing before I was embarrassed and humiliated by failing them. I was rejecting them before they could reject me. But, I'm afraid it's not quite that simple.

When I was fourteen I was involved in what is now called "The Storming of the Legislature". It was a peaceful candle light vigil that had transformed into riotous mob that broke down the front doors of the legislature. The man who I've looked up to for so long, who's now on the board for my organization, organized the vigil, and he had intended for it to be peaceful. We were there to oppose the clear cutting of one of the worlds largest areas of old growth forest, and many people, including myself, cherished this area. To many, the forests there are considered as sacred as any cathedral in Europe.

I was the first one through the doors, the first one on the ground, while twenty and thirty somethingís pummeled me. After the initial wave of people tumbled through those twenty foot tall doors, I got up, and proceeded to the antechamber. We bent open the gates to the antechamber, flooded the domed room, and continued to march toward a set of doors covered in stain glass windows. I was surrounded by five men, all in their late twenties to thirties. I opened the stained glass adorned doors, stormed in, only to realize I was in the legislative chamber, with the premier and his party to one the right, and the opposition to the left. I made eye contact with the premier, and something happened at that moment. I had the sudden urge to shove the men, who were attempting to enter, back out into the antechamber, which is exactly what I did. I then wrestled them away from the doors as the guards locked them closed.

At this point, the mob had taken on the tone and look of all mobs through out history: screaming, shouting, chanting, faces full of rage and anger, windows were being broken, guards accused (but not physically harmed, minus one unfortunate incident, when the doors flung open and knocked one man to the ground, breaking his hip. I still deeply regret that to this day.)

Finally, the organizer had shown up, and the look on his face was one of utter dismay. It was at that point that the realization had clicked in: we had turned into a violent and mindless mob, when our original intention was to remain peaceful. This was one of my role models, and I had been swept up in the excitement and delirium of the mob, having forgotten our original intention. He was attempting to calm the crowd so he could talk to them, but it wasn't working, so I grabbed the megaphone from him. I began talking to the crowd about the hypocrisy of our actions, how violence against the land could not be used to justify acts of violence against our fellow human beings. I mentioned Gandhi and Mandela a few times. The crowd eventually began to quiet down, and listen. I was fourteen, and was getting this mob to shut-up and listen to me. I then passed the megaphone to my friend. Now that they were listening, he managed to get them top agree to help pay for damages, and to start leaving the building.

A few months later I was charged, taken in, booked, and a court date was set. My friend and another founder of the previously mentioned organization came to support me during my court case. The video footage clearly showed me being thrown through the front doors, stopping people from entering the legislative chamber, and using the megaphone to calm the mob down. I was found guilty of BnE, inciting a riot, bodily harm, and creating disturbance in public. It was the judgeís first case, she was young, and female, and needing to prove her clout.

No, I am not making this up. This is not a manic delusion. I wish it was, because I have finally come to realize that this experience was traumatizing. The court case was traumatizing, how the judge completely ignored all the evidence. And the way my family reacted was probably the most traumatizing of all: they were not proud of me; more like paranoid. My parents are chronically passive aggressive, and when it comes to things involving the government, they are completely spineless. My father grew up in Germany, he was raised to believe that if you don't do as your told, men in brown suites will come and find you, and you'll simply "disappear". My mother's family was kicked off of their land in the UK after a baron refused to resign a lease that my family had not been asked to resign in six hundred years. In short: they are sycophants.

Once again, none of this is a digression.

This job has become very important to me. Too important. I have to many emotions invested into it. That, for me, is a good enough reason to leave. Same reason why I've been single for two years; I'm sick of investing myself emotionally into relationships I know I'm bound to screw up.

So you're probably wondering why I've bothered to post this in a male survivor forum. The answer is quite simple.

When I was physically and sexually abused as a child, when my parents found out, they did nothing. They didnít go to the school board, they didn't try to get the teacher fired, they didn't go to hospital when and where their little boy changed in ways they couldn't, or most likely didn't want to understand. My parents simply had no clue, or they didn't want to. They just went into denial, totally unconscious of the extent of my damages, and the appropriate reaction for a parent. They just tucked their tails under their legs and waited to be dismissed.

And so, at age fourteen, I decided to prove to myself that only I am my own authority; that I didn't have to be weak, and unassertive, like my parents. So I took my rage and anguish to the legislature, and made those who proclaim themselves to be my authority shake in their seats.

And yes, it did feel good, and it was scary as hell, and I forever regret letting my friend and role model down for participating in that mob.

After having been abused by doctors and teachers, then having my parents not come to my rescue, and then, for the most part, wrongly found guilty by a judge, I have developed issues with "authority". In school I was ostracized and girls laughed at me when I got ganged up on by their boyfriends. So, needless to say, I am sick of being a door mat.

But at the same time, I'm tired. I'm tired of having to be strong. I don't want to be strong anymore. I just want to drop everything and give up. I really don't care about my debts, or credit lines, or money, or having to have a job, because we're all suppose to have jobs, because it's just what everyone does.

So, that's that. Now I'm unemployed again, while deeply in debt, with student loan repayments pending, and my parents nagging me to get my act together and to just find any job I can get. Oh, did I mention they never expected a whole lot from me? They didn't want to pressure me to much, because "I'm dyslexic." They can't understand why I won't just get a landscaping job or something that doesn't require to many math or reading skills.

I don't know how many jobs I go through every year. I'm really sick of this. I don't want to keep doing this. I'm sick of sitting at home, and reading about non-linear mathematics and complex systems, while people tell me "it's ok, you can just weed gardens for a living..." "or just do fund raising..." Just do something easy, not to challenging.

These are the two messages that I'm use to receiving from teachers, doctors, and employers: don't challenge yourself, and most importantly, don't challenge us.

To boot, Iím expecting rejection, for things to go sour, so Iím sabotaging everything, and continuing my run from everything.

So Iíve decided I donít wonít to be strong anymore, I donít want to save the world. I am not a super hero. The world is going to have to take care of its self, and quite frankly, if it wants to destroy itself, then so be it. What the hell has this world ever done for me, other bring me into it, and inflict these nightmares upon me? Who the hell is going to be my hero? Who the f@!k is going to save my day? And donít give me that ďyou gottaí save yourself!Ē crap, or that ďyou just need JesusĒ crap. Please, save the platitudes.

Well, thatís three hours and five pages later. Congratulations to the person who read it from beginning to end; Iíd send you an award, but Iím broke, and trophies cost at least five bucks down at the thrift shop. I could send a coaster from a bar in Montreal. It has a picture of a flying canoe on it. Never mind, itís one of my few personal possessions.

I need a smoke.


Edited by BigV (06/23/10 10:31 AM)

#334466 - 06/23/10 12:31 PM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: BigV]
TheBobcatAgain Offline

Registered: 02/13/10
Posts: 524
Loc: AZ, U.S.A.

I guess I get first prize! I read the whole post! smile

I have a story that might make sense to you.

In college, I and a group of my friends were teaching assistants for the same teacher. We liked each other and had fun together. However, one day toward the end of a semester, the teacher told me that my behavior had become erratic, and that it would be best if I didn't return next semester to be a teaching assistant. All I really heard was that I wasn't wanted anymore by this group that said they loved me. Having been rejected and abandoned by other groups of friends in my life, I should have been accustomed to this, but I wasn't. I hardly remember packing up all my things from my dormroom, turning in my keys, getting in my car, and driving to my parents' house in PHX. I wasn't crying; I felt completely numb, like in a state of shock.

The next day, I started feeling sad about what I had done, so I drove back to the college to ask the teacher if there was any way I could be her teaching assistant again. She wouldn't see me. I was told she was mad at me because I missed her class in which I was supposed to be helping the night I left. She wanted no explanation for my departure. I had blown it. That's when I started to cry. I ended up missing my final exams, which lowered my GPA badly. But I loved that college and really wanted to graduate from there, so I enrolled the next semester. I tried to bury my feelings of betrayal and abandonment I was feeling toward the teacher and my friends, none of whom tried to contact me.

The classes I was retaking that semester were in the same building as the teacher and her assistants. I didn't worry about it much, because they wouldn't be in the same classes I was taking, but I certainly didn't want to see any of them ever again. Well, one day I was walking down a hall toward my classroom, and three teaching assistants were standing in the middle of the hall, chatting amongst themselves. I thought my heart had stopped. I froze. I wanted to be anywhere but where I was. Fortunately, there were a lot of students in the corridor, so I wasn't seen. The teaching assistants didn't notice me, but they walked to the far end of the corridor and out of sight - in the direction I had to go for my class.

I was frozen, but I knew I had to attend this class. I put one reluctant foot forward, and then another, but very, very slowly, and every time I did, my knees started to shake. All my energy was being drained by my walk to my classroom. When I finally came within sight of my classroom door, my feet would go no further. I was being crippled by fear of meeting my ex-friends. My urge to run away overwhelmed me, and I ended up turning around and running out of the building, and going back to my apartment. I skipped all my classes that day. I went through this drama 2-3 times per week after that, though most of the time I was able to muster enough courage to duck out of sight of the teaching assistants, and when they were gone, enter my classroom. Even once inside the classroom, my hands would be shaking.

I'm not sure how similar our stories are, but like you, I suffered a kind of betrayal, and I couldn't force myself to do what had to be done. As soon as I saw those assistants, I had an awful urge to run away, and the closer and closer I came toward them (and my classroom), the harder it was just to walk forward. I had been diagnosed with PTSD earlier in life, so I think what happened was that the teaching assistants triggered me into remembering/reliving that trauma of group abandonment, and my PTSD manifested itself as an overwhelming urge to run away to a place of safety.

Anyway, I thought that story might help you, my friend. I will spare you the usual platitudes; but I wish only to tell you what is in my heart - Your story moved me, from your story I gather that you are a nice guy who has been hurt, and that I hope your life gets better soon, buddy.

Good luck, my brother. I am wishing for your happiness and the recovery you deserve. May you find both someday soon.

Your friend,


#334468 - 06/23/10 01:21 PM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: TheBobcatAgain]
fhorns Offline

Registered: 08/10/02
Posts: 706
Your story made perfect sense. I was with it all the way, because the tone throughout was "what the hell just happened?" I wasn't lost at all.

And V, I'm strengthened by your rejecting the messages from your family and society. They are STRONG messages, and you---you spoke up--against them!! I needed that ramble.

It made me think, "what message am I just accepting, that's wrong for me but comfortable for them?"

You've got guts. Thanks for rambling here. I'm wanting to write more, but I'm ashamed and embarrassed by my growing awareness that I'm a "yes-man". All over the place.

Again, thank you for writing this. Do you have more?


#334487 - 06/23/10 06:46 PM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: BigV]
pufferfish Offline

Registered: 02/26/08
Posts: 6875
Loc: USA

I've read all of your post and a bunch of your previous posts. But skip sending me the trophy. You write very, very well. It seems to be no trouble at all for you to roll out phrase after phrase of interesting and coherent prose. Your longish post is well organized and convincing. Apparently this carries over into your verbal communication skills. You apparently excelled in communication, considering your job and what you did when you were 14. So consider yourself discovered.

I notice you had early abuse and that you had dyslexia and a hearing problem at first. I also notice that you are quite aware of dissocitating. You have memories which seem to come and go. You are exceptionally talanted yet you have employment problems (who doesn't these days).

So here's my diagnosis, which you probably won't like or agree with. I think there's a possibility you have dissocitative identity disorder. Why? The title of your post is the first clue. You are aware of having different agendas, some of which are radically opposed to the others. Dyslexia can be a clue. I've had dyslexia which went along with dissociative disorder. One of your other agendas has to do with anger with your job, another with your anger with associates, another with anger with prior treatment. You shifted agendas in a way which was very self-defeating. This is a symptom of dissociative disorder. You know you have PTSD. You know that you dissociate. PTSD can be closely allied with dissociative disorder. DIDs will trash a job or assault a person because they have someone within who kind of takes over and commands it. Sometimes this is in opposition to the longrange best interests of the person. You have very low self esteem yet you could "put on" a very eloquent, convincing persona. You had trouble doing this sometimes. All of this sounds very familiar to me. Do you have an "inner child"?

So what do I recommend? Start keeping a journal. Write in it every day: How you feel, what you want to do and what you don't want to do today, etc. Then turn the page before writing the next day's entry. Pick up a book or two on dissociative identity disorder. There is one (which I don't have) on how to live your life if you have "it". That sounds like a good one. Some books on this subject are good and some are off-the-wall. If you visit a books store you can examine them before you buy them.

By the way there may be a job opening at Rolling Stones Mag. lol



#334495 - 06/23/10 09:09 PM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: pufferfish]
kidneythis Offline

Registered: 11/09/09
Posts: 1558
In my opinion, which is worth exactly as much as it costs ;-}

I heard you describe the end of many years of supression of thoughts and feelings you have not been able to or allowed yourself to process. This is probably because of your Milktoast parents forcing you to rely upon yourself.

I recomend trying to be patient with yourself and allowing that it is normal for one to break down in much more catatrophic ways than you describe when they eventually are forced to face the issues created by abuse. All of what you describe seems to be PTSD related eruption of feelings long denied their due.

I think your clarity of mind is going to make sorting it out easier than you think. Nothing anyone will envy mind you it is after all an emotional mental mess that needs cleaning up just to begin healing the damage done.

You have also done me a favor by showing me myself in reflection of how you have reacted to a triggering situation. Yes you were denied the trip because of confronting the woman in charge. Her sex probably only affected the fact that she did not openly fire you, a man would have. She just made your life difficult and you did the rest. It would have gotten progressively worse unless she did eventually forgive you or feel you'd paid enough. I've done exactly the same many times over.

The thing bubbling up that was distracting you from being as good as you used to be, was popped by this confrontation with her that you say yourself was out of character. So there the bubbles were coming out on their own for whatever reason, we all have different stories of how/why it came up for us. Finding the origin or placing in time when you started to go off track will probably help in finding the original triggering event. In other words; how long before you were confronted by that beligerent man, did you start losing your touch or feeling off? What was happening at that point in time?

Freezing up that night was the beginning of you realizing you had sabotaged yourself. You were now being puinished for that mistake, which made you see yourself as indisputably flawed, and more importantly others got to see you as flawed while you were being flawed, probably for the first time in a long time if ever. You can't mentally hide from yourself when its in the open.
I know you think objectively that you acknowledge your bad points, But I'm also fairly sure none of those bad points that you acknowledge are very bad at all. Nothing that would allow one to think they might have a bad side. My Personal experience of hiding my flaws from myself in seeing that as well.
In your story it shows you needed to be perfect. I think w/o this you subconsciously thought your world doesn't work. You describe in different words how you work so hard to be perfect, this flaw was the final straw that undermined the well constructed world you made to be able to live with the unhealed scars of the abuse.

Now in spite of how bad it feels there's no where to go but up!
I wish I knew more or could offer you more but I think you have a good idea what to do.

One of my goals is to be able to be as clear and succinct in my expression as you were in this post. Thank You for the example.


Edited by kidneythis (06/23/10 09:12 PM)
As Mark Twain once quipped, history may not repeat itself, but it does rhyme.

#334506 - 06/23/10 11:49 PM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: kidneythis]
BigV Offline

Registered: 07/20/09
Posts: 86
Loc: Western Canada
Wow, thanks guys. I thought my writing here was kind of sloppy, and needs editing. I usually just let it go, because I figure in such a forum, itís not a big deal. I definitely like writing, and thatís probably an understatement, thanks for reading through my posts, I really appreciate it.

Bobcat, thank you for being the first person to get through my five page dissertation. Their will be a quiz, and you wonít be aloud to make up for it if you skip class wink Iím afraid first prize is the same prize that everyone else gets for baring with me, and reading my rants and rambles, which is my respect and gratitude. And thank you for your story. There's both similarities and dissimilarities, both equally valid and valuable. I've often found myself in that kind of situation, and I've lost touch with many good friends because I don't want to be ostracized again. I'm trying not to burn my bridges, but old habits die hard. I'm at least consciously aware of it. As well, I'm a part of a large, and very tight community of activists, healers, lawyers, and other social conscious types, and I find it imposable to successfully burn my bridges. I've recently decided to take a break from volunteering, event hosting and organizing, because I'm reassessing my motives for my activism. My friends seem to completely understand, although I have yet to reveal to anyone what has been going on. I want to, but to be honest, I'm scared. I've been burned and neglected post-burn so many times that I'm not sure if this is the best route.

KT: milktoast, Iíve never heard that one before, but itís perfectly appropriate for my parents. But donít get me wrong, I still love them, Iím trying to not expect them to be perfect, but at the same time, Iíd like them to own up to things, if not for me, then at least for themselves. Theyíve both been through a lot, and they, especially my mother, have yet to realize that I am not the sole broken one, who is simply awaiting their charity and words of wisdom. And things are definitely bubbling up. They always bubble up, and often at the worst times. Iíve learnt passive aggressiveness from my parents, Iím aware of this, and Iím learning to be appropriately assertive every day. And this relates deeply to what you said, because all of my abusers, aside from the psychological abuse from my dad, were female. The doctor or nurse who sexually abused me was female, the teacher who physically abused me in Catholic school was a young woman, and the judge who found me guilty, although not technically abuse, was a woman, but that definitely helped to fix that pattern of expectation in my head. I realized last night, while writing, that it was likely that my managers were just waiting for me to quit. I also had the distinct feeling that these two women were constantly testing my boundary, poking and prodding me in an attempt to get me to loose me cool, probably without even realizing it. So I guess the motivation for doing what I did was to try and get these young women to loose their cool before I lost mine. As passive aggressive as it might sound, I think that that was what I was doing. Iím just so sick to death of being burnt by these women who havenít learnt the same code of conduct as us, because we, as men, are expected to be assertive, and respect each others boundaries and limits. Perhaps itís me inviting these women to stumble into my passive aggressive trap. Or maybe itís both.

Puffer, I'm open to anything, and hearing other perspectives on my own consistencies and inconsistencies is very important to me. It's funny, because as I read your response, I was watching Voyager, an episode where 7 of 9 begins experiencing the equivalent of DID, where personalities she had assimilated started to dominate her personality. Luckily, I'm not borg, nor am I a character in a cheesy sci-fi series, my issues are quite real, and in that sense, I know I can "adapt". Your response brought other things to mind, movies and books I watched as a kid, and liked, such as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Sybil, Dr. Who, and even the various Batman movies, and vampire movies, all stories of people with more then one persona. A friend of mine recently told me, in jest, that he thinks I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. My mom told me about this one night where I decided to dress up as Nosferatu for a costume party. I went out to the party by my self, and she claims that I called her and told her that I couldn't find the party, and then came home. I don't recall this at all. Not one bit. I found this disconcerting to say the least.

I've often noticed how my father is a total sheep most of the time, he's usually completely passive, but if he's triggered in just right way, he can go into a flying rage, where he'll shout and curse, and even break things. Once he struggled with me in an attempt to get the phone out of my hand because he thought I was talking badly about my mother. As we struggled, I pushed him back, and he fell to the ground, and he immediately began accusing me of attacking him, and that he was going to call the cops. I tried to describe to him what he had done, but he told me I was crazy, and that he would never do anything to hurt me. And I believe him, in as much that he completely forgot what he had done. He's always been a peace loving, new agy type, but he does these really weird going out in the backyard to kill frogs with a shovel because their croaking was keeping him awake, stealing me and my brothers personal possessions, claiming that they're his, after having given them to us for Christmas. The list goes on. I'm pretty sure he must have PTSD. He often tells us stories about how he remembers being in his mothers womb, and the sounds and vibrations of bombs being dropped over the bunker in Germany. He was shell-shocked in the womb. The things his dad did to him and his brothers after the war are another story all together.

My mom is incredibly inconsistent, as well. The other day, when we were taking my aunt out for her birthday, I was joking about how large the restaurant was, and that it most likely takes up at least a tenth of our little town. She got really annoyed, told me off, and told me not to embarrass her in front of our aunt and uncle. Now, had this been a one time deal, I would have brushed it off, but my mother is utterly paranoid about me going out into public with her. Sheís so afraid that Iím going to do something weird that she always ends up embarrassing herself. Before we sat down, I confronted her, and told her that my only realistic option for not embarrassing her would be sit down and not talk, but this would be embarrassing as well. So I told her I was their to spend time with my relatives and that I was going to say whatever I want, and if she canít handle, then she can go home. Her reaction: Jamie, I have no idea what your talking about, everythingís fine. And then she smiled politely. This left me confused and stunned, and I still donít know what to think about it. Of course, during dinner, she got so drunk, she ended up making an ass of herself, anyhow (But I guess women are cute while drunk, expectedly emotional and irrational, and incapable of wrong doing, so I suppose thatís ok.)

Together, my parents consistently change their stories all the time, and their actions are even less consistent. Recently, they've told me that they will help pay for me to study sustainable agriculture at a university I already have a diploma from. Yet, they refused to help support me when I was struggling at another university, while studying pure sciences. They have always been completely unaware, or in some form of denial about their real motives, and it's painfully obvious.

Here's another example: my mom always told me, when I was a child, that if I wanted to, I could be the next David Suzuki, and that I was going to help save the planet just like him, etc. Yet, simultaneously, she would tell me that all I have to do is pass my math, and English courses, that no one was pressuring me, that I didnít have to get high marks. All I had to do was "get by". I am still just "trying to get by." How the hell am I suppose to become the next Professor David Suzuki, or Jane Goodall, if I was always just eking by. In fact, most of the time, I just used that good old charm and guile to ensure I didnít have to repeat a grade.

When I was younger, they ascribed my awareness of their inconsistencies to my own imagination. They basically invalidated me every time I tried to point things out, set boundaries, and assert myself. I am currently living with them, and fortunately for me, I have gained ground with my mom, but not so much with my dad. He actually said "don't 'dad' me..." once. Can you believe that? What the hell am I suppose to call him, "biologically related male parental unite", "sperm donor"? Jesus. Extreme passive aggressiveness; inconsistent; illogical; invalidating; deep seated denial; and neglectful responses to traumatizing experiences: that's my parents in a nutshell, yet everyone thinks they are just wonderful.

And now I'm rambling again. KT, I value your input, but at the same time, I'm slightly skeptical of DID. I will keep this in mind, and ask my therapist about it. It's definitely possible. I know I definitely have a very light, and a very dark side. One part of me wants to see the world burn, and the other wants to save it. But I'm beginning to accept the fact that I'm not going to save anything, because, like I said, I ain't no super hero, and I don't want to be one, anymore. I'm beginning to give up on this idea of being really good, or really bad.

Another thing that relates to your observation: most people talk about things they experience, such as flash backs and it sounds as though they are reliving their prior experiences. I've never had this. My memory of my sexual abuse is clear and distinct, and never changes. I'm not the one being abused, I'm watching it as a third person, but the child is me, and I know this. Apparently, this third person kind of memory is common in those diagnosed with DID. Other things I've heard of being associated with DID are out of body experiences, which I have had, but this was because of sleep apnea and sleep paralysis. The sensation was often accompanied by the feeling of a presence(s) in the room, and strange, frightening creatures in contact with my body, attempting to do something, but it is never clear what. Sleep paralysis is apparently quite common, especially in young people, and mine has subsided. I've often wondered if this is somehow connected to my trauma, perhaps the trauma affected my autonomic nervous system via the endocrine system. I've always found that supplements and foods that help my adrenals and cortisol levels make a big difference in my general mood, body pains, and hypoglycemia (which has been so severe I've gone into mild convulsions, as well as fainted on one occasion, and this may be one of the causes for my sleep problems.) I would really like to learn how to listen to my body, and allow it to guide me in making the right choices for it, but with my head in the clouds most of the time, and obsession with logic and rationalism, this can prove to be rather difficult.

I donít know what my plan, or motive is anymore, and frankly, I don't care. I'm tired, really tired, and I'd like to just start living, instead of coping.

Shit. I think it's time to call my therapist. I haven't seen him in six months.

Thanks again, guys, I really do appreciate it.


#334507 - 06/24/10 12:58 AM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: BigV]
kidneythis Offline

Registered: 11/09/09
Posts: 1558
Thanks for appreciating my input. For the record I don't think you have DID or not have DID. My perception of what you described is just what I wrote. Lots of regualr people bury (disociate) things they'd rather not or cannot deal with.

I don't know from DID as I'venever been anyone but me no matter how hard I've tried not to. The closest might be my behavior when in a drunken blackout.

Here's a link to the Casper Milquetoast story;

Neville Chamberlin's "Peace in Our Time" statement after giving Czecoslovachia away to Hitler, made him indelibly the human embodiment of the character.

As Mark Twain once quipped, history may not repeat itself, but it does rhyme.

#334508 - 06/24/10 01:35 AM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: kidneythis]
BigV Offline

Registered: 07/20/09
Posts: 86
Loc: Western Canada
After having read a bit about DID, I can honestly say I don't have it. I don't have black outs, missing time, people claiming that I'm lying about things I can't remember doing. My memory for pretty much everything except that one time that I was going to the costume party, is usually sharp to a fault. I remember faces, but have a hard time with names, but this is because I have a really good visual memory (a result of hearing problems). I have had depersonalization disorder for long periods of time. What I think I'm doing is called "splitting", splitting myself into totally good, or totally bad, and others as well. Rational and irrational is more common for me, as I'm constantly struggling to make everything make perfect sense. Some days I feel like a narcasist, others I feel like I'm borderline. Today I just feel like dropping this struggle completely and just being.

I guess I'm afraid of being a Milquetoast like my dad. But, I guess if I'm bound to be a Milquetoast, then so be it. I don't really care any more.

#334518 - 06/24/10 03:50 AM Re: My body has a mind of it's own... (long) [Re: BigV]
Bewlayb1 Offline

Registered: 08/04/07
Posts: 243
Loc: NYC
Hi, BigV. I enjoyed reading your posts. Your writing is engrossing, and it didn't seem like too much at all. I also noticed the pattern you have developed with female authority figures, including your mother. I was abused by a male, and it got me thinking that I often provoke confrontation with men I perceive as bullies. I enjoy shocking them by acting much tougher than I look and not backing down, even in the face of physical threats. I wonder if I am, in a sense, recreating the abuse scenario, but behaving in the way I wish I had behaved as a child. My abuser was a very masculine, tall, muscular man and those are the types of men I always feel a compulsion to "stand up to." Could this be one reason why you quit after your supervisor was being dishonest with you? You wished you could have simply "walked away." I imagine it's different with female abusers, because you might have felt less physically endangered and more emotionally manipulated into enduring the abuse. It does sound like you really hate the games women play, for example, when your mother insisted "everything's fine," it left you angry and stunned. It's just a thought. I know what you mean, about feeling like a puppet on a string. Regardless, with your intellect and strength you'll be back on your feet in no time. Other things struck me too. I also feel as if half the time I want to save the world, half the time I hate it so much, I just want to piss everyone off. I, too, feel detached from my life, though it's more of a perpetual state than specific episodes. And, as a boy, immediately following the abuse, I became obsessed with causes, such as the environment and racism. I decided to be a vegetarian because I didn't want to hurt animals. I look at it now as trying to prove to myself that I was still "good," despite all the things I had done, or been forced to do. Though I've become cynical about it, I can still be self-righteous at times. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your next post. Hope it will give me as much to think about. And you don't sound like your dad at all. You sound like an admirable person. I'm sure everything will work out all right.


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