1/13/17
© Michelle Routhieaux 2017
Kaleidoscope Perception
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Tag Archives: DID
I accept you
4/6/2016
© Michelle Routhieaux 2016
Be here
9/12/15
© Michelle Routhieaux 2015
Revelation
3-7-15 6:13am
I woke up at 5:15. Feels like Christmas morning. I took a shower. We don’t leave until 7:45 or 8. I’m excited. It’s almost my BIRTHday!
I had a revelation in the shower.
Old Thought: I can’t have that.
New Thought: I can have all things God wants for me.
I feel the power of the old, the peace of the new. Surrender. I believe it. No conscious cognitive therapy involved.
I’m going to my aunt’s today. I want to ask for the house. I keep getting flashes of things that scare me, of reasons not to want to live there alone, aside from the fact that it’s next to nowhere. Snakes and intruders mainly. No readily accessible emergency services. Poor medical care. I know nothing about septic tanks or wells. Maybe it’s just a dream. At least it’s my dream. A dream worth having. Besides, God kills snakes. I pray a snake doesn’t kill Ellie.
I feel like I’m missing meds. Or I just slept great. Hmmm… What did I switch around last night?
I’m going to listen to “The Elegance of the Hedgehog” audiobook. Noreen recommended it. Thomas found it at the library. I put it on my ipod. I’m almost afraid.
But of what? Liking audiobooks?
No. That I won’t be able to tolerate those either.
Dammit, Michelle. Enough already. STOP AVOIDING. Don’t think. Just dance.
Yeah, I need to do that too.
READ THE DAMN BOOK.
Alright already. Geez, lay off.
Mom’s upset I’m up early. I feel like I’m missing Seroquel from a diet healthy in psych drugs, but I know I’m not. Hmmm… I really must trim some of my specialty medical care. I pay upwards of $900 a month right now in care not covered by my insurance. And that’s not a typo. Where did I get lost? How did this happen? Probably the same way new wardrobes showed up in my closet when I was manic. This time I’m collecting people. You’d think they were priceless.
I feel an overarching sense of excitement and impending doom. I’d like to sleep but I’m wired and already dressed. I told Auntie I’d make her pancakes. Gotta get there first. I know. I could upload back-pictures or do my credit counseling online. And take some Benadryl so I can breathe.
Over and out, Chickadee.
-M
Michelle Routhieaux 2015
Ya can’t fix tile with a laser beam
7/17/14 3:17pm
Do you want to stop dissociating? (therapist)
I want to not feel trapped. I want to not need to escape reality. I want to get what I need and to know that I have it. And what I have it for. I want ME.
I’m so exhausted. I fight but I can’t get out of my mind. I want to cut the pain out like a tumor. Just GET it OUT. I rarely cry. I’m surrounded by fog. My life is a lie it seems but only to me. I’m the one who can’t quite reach it.
Put on a smile. Dress nicely. Run to catch up. What day is it? Who cares? Just follow the box. This meaning is big-picture stuff. Just keep trodding along.
(slow deep breath, confusion)
I don’t want to be sick. It has benefits but not worth dying for. Why stay propped up on toothpicks when you could run? Have you tried?
(shutting down)
Tuesday I had a strong response and shut down in group. B- was the trigger. I didn’t say anything. (falling asleep) I want to be able to read menus again. I don’t know how I’m doing right now. When Ashley states it objectively it sounds bleak. I can’t remember what I’ve done or am doing. I’m very reactive. I can’t make decisions. I zone out driving. I hear music or racing thoughts or nothing. I get hot or cold for no reason. I’m not interested in people or activities or life. I’m having a really hard time making my bed and handling finances. I’m not brushing my teeth. My hair is falling out. I’m gaining weight. I’m picking again. I’m thinking in pictures. I can’t tolerate reading email and I’m not responding in a timely manner to text or voicemail. I’m not interested in tv. I have nightmares and wake up sweaty. I’m tired. Head pain and stomach pain are literally mind-numbing. Dr. T says I’m falling apart. I am.
I’m working really hard. I don’t know why I’d do that if I didn’t want to change. Groups and therapy are stressful. Who would volunteer for that? I’m not a glutton, nor do I like punishment.
Oddly, I don’t feel angry or offended at the question. One would think I would be better by now, might think I’m not trying. I just feel sad. It’s a question I’ve asked others. Do you want to get better? Yes. I do. Life is better than treatment. But life is trying to eat me. Or so my brain tells me. I do what the voices tell me.
Honestly, I do not want to be present for this. But if I don’t experience it I won’t have a chance to remember. “I feel like a hamster,” I kept telling them. Trapped and people are watching me. They gave me Risperdal and Depakote. “I broke the stone statue” led to being under close observation. I don’t speak the language. Shawna tries but she rarely “speaks Michelle.” I don’t want my own language, don’t want to need translation. I just want to be, to understand, to experience just what’s real. I imagine it might be boring but I want the opportunity to try.
I don’t want to lose my superpowers, just to put them away for awhile. Ya can’t fix tile with a laser beam.
Love, Michelle
PS – I want out of my body. It hurts not to move or dance. When offered opportunities I freeze with fear. GET IT OUT.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2014
Still Worth Saving
7/14/14 2:05pm
Still.
(several sighs)
I feel my throat burn and face and hands tingle. The chaos floods back in quickly. I drew my picture. Then I colored out the anxiety.
Today I let go.
I am worth saving.
I am still worth saving.
Still. That implies that I was before.
I’m also still okay.
I feel nauseous and scared.
(go outside)
(stretch, toes in grass, look at sun & upside down trees)
I am okay.
I’m afraid of the pain.
I’m afraid of the pain being real.
It’s everything I want.
If I go through it, will it subside?
If I come to life, will I want to be in it?
Will I be able to get back out?
I am okay.
I’m still okay.
I don’t know what that means.
I’m accessing. I’m getting closer to her. I’m letting her take over me.
I feel frustrated because today it’s different. I went from chaos at an 8 to a 0 with Soleil. I practiced trust and truth, hanging on and letting go, listening. (wave of sadness). Then chaos clamped down like a dungeon door trapping me in when I left.
(image in my mind of me begging at the door when the back of my cell had no wall)
Just turn around.
You’re still okay.
It’s okay to save you.
Remember today, resist self-sacrifice.
Eat. Move your body. Believe.
That’s all ’til next time.
Over and out. –
© Michelle Routhieaux 2014
Jesus Loves Me
12/4/12 8:15pm
Dear God,
THANK YOU!
I am waiting for the trolley. I feel joy. I breathe in the cool night air. I breathe. I breathe… I feel calm. I listen intently to crickets and the sound of car tires over rail tracks and the wind. German discussions drift…
My hair blows softly over my face.
I’m free.
I’M FREE! (sigh)
I can’t explain the joy sitting here brings me. Folding laundry. Listening instead of just hearing. The deep appreciation of rising from the ashes, of being released from pain. I see colors. I taste. I feel God again.
19 days of pain have led to this beauty. I am set free. I savor the feeling. I know it is just for a time but this time is mine.
(break to talk with Ringo on the trolley)
(zap) I look forward to projects. I eat colors, swallow time. I am pink and the whole world sings. Of joy, of deliverance, of me. My face smiles without me. I watch. She is beautiful when she’s happy.
This week I realistically contemplated going in. Today I don’t need to. When I see my doctor tomorrow the pain will be a story. I will be able to talk, unlike last time, and to think. I think. Anyway, there is such a difference. Like flipping a switch. I am glad to be on this side.
I could not appreciate gift without loss. Now I take it in, prepare and wait. Rest. Thank you, God. Weepin’ may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning. Amen.
–
My whole body tingles.
Joy comes in the morning.
(sing Brett Michaels’ song “Joy Comin’.”)
–
As my muscles being to hurt again, remember this feeling.
I used all my energy today.
Now I’m melting.
At least I can poop.
7 If I can feel such joy on Earth, can you imagine what it’s like in heaven?
FG I don’t know.
Probly pretty awesome.
3 Sparkles and unicorns!
13 Dragons & fire.
25 Peace & quiet.
7 And angels.
13 I want to paint the sky with a dance and pour out the rain.
FG And for things to be okay.
3 Jesus will like my unicorn.
7 And I want to ride a sunset.
3 Jesus loves me.
FG I know, baby. He does.
Jesus loves me.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2012
I found myself in a Walmart mirror
7/13/12 8:05pm
Just got to the airport. Chuck‘s playing with Beat.itude. Ran into Barbara. Chuck’s with his grandson. I’m late ‘cuz I bought a homeless man KFC but it let me see a beautiful sunset.
Mom smashed her finger in the garage door today causing her body to go into shock. She was confused and cold, sweating profusely, throwing up, unsteady. It was bad. She refused to go to urgent care and I had to leave so I had the neighbor come sit with her. When I got home a few hours later she was still out of it but a bit better. She just came back to life around 5 o’clock, has no recollection of most of the day.
I feel a warm happiness, a lessening of senses. The past few days I have been dissociated but on alert, joyful and terrified, physically anxious and at peace. At the same time. Yeah.
Last night Joe mentioned he likes all my recent changes. I do too, although I haven’t paid them much attention. I guess I have changed a lot.
(ground noise from the speaker)
The music gives me tingles…
A gathering of souls.
Adorable.
I cut my hair last month, changed my bangs. Bought new clothes, started wearing dresses and shorts. I got new jewelry, wear a flower in my hair. I am tan from riding the bus. I got my toenails done. I redid my room. I bought a special bra. I restructured my finances. I see my therapist less often.
I’ve been largely without thought, not writing, cancelling events, tired. Attending to me. I like me. I named the nodule on my thyroid Steve, stopped reading my email. My body hurts. Me hurts. But I like me.
I found myself in a Walmart mirror on the 2nd floor in the kids section. Quite by accident. When I saw her I turned around and went back. We talked. Now we talk every time I’m there. The mirror doesn’t lie to me. It shows who’s in the driver’s seat. She tells me how she’s doing. Mirrors at home don’t work this way. (music energy)
I found my self in a Walmart mirror. She misses dancing. She likes my new room.
I feel energy lately. I’m open to it. Good and bad. Colors, frequencies.
I took a nap today.
I need some energy.
And a Walmart mirror.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2012
No melting pot. Casserole.
12/29/11 9:49pm
Note to self: Bring a bottle to pee in next time.
(sigh) That was nice. I just walked the entire length of Little Italy from El Camino to the America Plaza trolley stop without freezing or getting mugged or killed. Sweet. I stopped at 7-11 for some tea to warm my hands, but I drank it all and now I really have to pee. Except for tourists by restaurants, there was nobody out. Italian thugs in cars look a lot like Mexican gang bangers, but they left me alone. Even the sole guy walking past me with grocery bags didn’t say hi.
(This is weird. I’m on an empty trolley that hasn’t moved for 5 minutes and no one has asked me to get off. Hmm…)
I had planned on going to El Camino tonight, and I did. Margaret dropped me off around 8:30pm. The staff there told me there weren’t any seats anywhere. Apparently Gilbert’s whole entourage was there. I heard him tell someone it was already packed and gonna be crazy. And then L- swoops in 7 people and takes whomever was next’s table laughing about it. She’s such a bitch. I wasn’t gonna wait forever so I decided to walk randomly until I found somewhere to write or reached the trolley. Now I’m sitting on the trolley that’s not moving. It’s concerning me. But it’s somewhat warm. And I spotted another person. A driver would be nice.
(deep breath) I went on the most horrible date tonight. Parts of the conversation at Target were endearing but overall it was a bust. Who talks about abortion and marriage law over dinner? It’s no wonder more 37 year old gamers aren’t married.
—
I just had the most wonderful conversation with a guy at the trolley stop. He’s a 20 year old military guy stationed here until the end of February. We talked about jazz. He’s from Delaware. It’s nice to meet wonderful people.
I told Dr. N today I feel my biological clock ticking and I want a guy. He said that usually refers to babies. I told him you need a guy to make a baby if you don’t have money. He said I shouldn’t have any babies right now. I agree. But I’d still like to get started. I told him I want to marry a gay guy. He said I should find a gay guy who needs a green card…
Man, it’s cold… It’s quiet though. So nice. There’s a person I keep meeting eyes with who seems to be between sexes. Very Melissa Etheridge-esque but also looks like this guy from my group.
Will I ever get to have babies?
I know I do better when I’m not around or living with my mom. I am forced to take care of myself and I mostly enjoy it. I’m not trapped in the weird web of transactional analysis gone wrong. I am free to be me. Like yesterday when she went to work and I made myself lunch and went to the gym and made cookies and casserole and got some work done. The tv was off, music was on. It was amazing. A total 180 from feeling so stuck. Maybe she’ll work more days. It felt good tonight to walk too. Self-directed. It’s my life. For now. A good now.
I’m thinking of starting a second blog called Care Bear Share about my experience with DID. Semi-anonymous. I’m really scared. The message from my docs is that I need to integrate, whatever that means. But I don’t want to. I fully appreciate me, in all my various forms, and I don’t want to lose that.
It’s true I have only recently explored what’s going on, but it’s been happening for a LONG time. Even back in school I used to talk about the different mes and how they didn’t really cross over. I just never gave it a name. Now we have a name I don’t share with people and I’m not sure what to do.
I’m so much different than I used to be. —
My mom is so annoying.
I’m different. I’d like to get feedback about the changes from people who have seen me, but I don’t really hang out with anyone. I can’t remember.
I want to grow up. We should go on an adventure and find a life we can all live peacefully and happily in. No one left behind. I could do that. No melting pot. Casserole.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2011
Polka Dots
12/26/11 2:46pm
Polka Dots. I’m having polka dots. Not the cute circles. Random splotches of extreme moods. Last night I had an intense suicidal polka dot. Right now I’m extremely agitated. None lasts more than a few hours but they can be dangerous. It helps that I know they will pass. But they’re still intense.
What do you do with polka dots? They do not belong to all of us. I was thinking about that last night. When one or more of us is freaking out, the others aren’t. It is not appropriate to change everyone’s meds and you can’t just change one.
I DON’T UNDERSTAND!
I would never give 3 more Seroquel. I wouldn’t give her Seroquel at all. 13 could use some, but I don’t see her often. She wants to kill herself ‘cuz nobody cares. She is so alone.
If I could split it all up I would:
- Give 3 a hug and a meal & sleep plan
- Put 7 in school
- Put 13 in therapy and on an SSRI
- Get 25 a job and a diet
- Do anything necessary to lift Fairy Godmother’s depression.
The polka dots make sense if split out, but I’m SO CONFUSED!
© Michelle Routhieaux 2011
Writing Towards Happy 