Switchy-poo

I don’t know where I am tonight, but I felt like writing something to just check in with the cyber world.

My head is screaming in pain, my anxiety is off the scale, and I feel grotesquly fat and obese. I’m upset that I’m empty. I used to be such a good writer, though you would never know it from my blog postings. But I could say what I wanted with the words that I wanted and I would feel so complete and satisfied. Nowadays, my alters are giving me nothing to say.

You see, I don’t know how other systems work, but I am merely the spokesperson, the body, the front that is presented to the world. I am made of nothing but ash, the dead relic of the first born who was killed the first time. When I speak, it seldoms comes from my own volition but, rather, the election of one of the members. And it HURTS!!!! It makes me cringe and writhe in pain to not be able to express a feeling or even experience an emotion of my own. All I can do is illiterate what they want said.

And this can cause so many problems, so many headaches. What if member A doesn’t like what member B has to say, so member A tries to shut her down? An internal, vicarious mayhem insues. And I’m left holding the daggers.

That troubles me far less than just not being able to put on paper or on screen the exact way I’M feeling at the time I’m feeling it because the words aren’t supplied to me. I’m not granted access. I am to be reminded that I’m a front and nothing more. I need to be more. I don’t like being a blank, a shell, barren, vacuous, and an emotional, spiritual, intellectual virgin. If I am blank, then I have no value; if I have no value, then I am worthless; if I’m worthless, the ensuing question is unequivocally: why am I alive?

Must I spend the rest of my days being the frontrunner for them? And I get angry at myself for not being more appreciateive of what they’ve been through, but I can’t help it. I know the members have done much more than I have. Which is worse, though: to have so many emotions it aches, or to have no emotion at all that it aches as bad?

To top it off, I don’t remember the post before this one. They are posting without me. It upsets me because I don’t know what is being said and we are supposed to agree on what gets put out to the world. I don’t know. I don’t know.

For the past week, we’ve been switching alot and they’ve been crawling over each other like puppies to get out. Why we can’t work on and decide on a system I don’t know. It seems fair for everyone to take their turn. But they aren’t. I think they’re pissed off about not seeing our residential therapist anymore. Either way, D. was taking me to the gym today and the switching began again, right after another, I could feel them taking over me. I made a comment to myself that we were switching again and a voice I didn’t recognize called it “switchy-poo.” I thought it was cute. I decided not to bring myself down by acknowlidging that it was a new voice; I just that it cute she called it switchy-poo. Things have been a little switchy-poo with us lately. πŸ™‚

That’s all, and more than I thought I would write. I’m still blank. Tranquilizers help a lot…so why am I still writing? πŸ™‚

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Hey, y'all. My name is Becca, and I run this mental health website called Missing In Sight. I am a mental health warrior, battling stigma and discrimination right by your side. I created this blog to share my personal stories of pain, strength, and hope so you know you are never alone.

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