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If the Truth Were Told

I even said a prayer before my session with Therapist today and asked God that I not be so guarded and to help me be open to change.  But what transpired between me and Therapist was more than I bargained for, and I deeply regret it. As I remember it, the discussion centered around purging and how I think eating makes me a whore.  I didn’t understand these feelings, so he asked something around the idea of did I want to know why there might be the association of food being dirty and how eating makes me a whore. Here’s …

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Time’s Confessions

The thick, heavy hours creep behind me, lethargically following me into my personal hell. Life slows down and elongates itself into eternity. Time spawns replicas of itself, burgeoning forth as every instant feels like infinity. Each second hurls itself at me, expectantly waiting for me to placate the duration with purpose. But I am trapped in the confessions of my head. Anxiety spectacularly begins to surface. Panic reproduces itself. Each moment breeds another moment, another opportunity to surfeit upon the frenzy of disquieting thoughts in the indiscernible distance. The battle continues. My thoughts stage a hostile takeover, targeting my unwillingness to listen. Against my …

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Slowly coming back

I do not even know what to write. Silence grips me. I try to speak but only gasps for air come out. I lay down my life with the memories, sensations, and flashbacks luring me back to childhood. I feel eight years old. I feel eleven years old. I feel too much. Thank you for everyone who e-mailed me or dropped a comment. I’m overwhelmed at your support. A question has been posed on my Formspring page and I will answer it as soon as I get my words back.

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Home of the apathetic and tired

I’m tired. It’s more than not getting enough sleep or the tired you feel after a long day of work. I’m tired to the core of my being. I think my brain has stopped working. My body is lethargic and craves rest. I feel so negative. Every time I write it’s always about some crisis or negative feeling I’m dealing with. I know that was and is the purpose of this blog: to document the journey from being completely fractured to finally whole. Maybe one day I’ll have something positive to say. For now, all I can say is that …

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Ramblings of a gone mind

I’m not okay. I’m feeling rather rabid and English. The words are coming from somewhere else. I don’t know what to do with myself. I know what I should do, but “shoulds” are woulds that can’t help themselves. I feel like Sarah McLachlin when she sang with the Perishers a song called “Pills.” She sang they weren’t alright, they needed pills to get through the night, needed lies to get through the day, and she wasn’t okay. That’s how I feel today. My abusers are mingling with my memory, creating a cause for alarm and exhaustion. I find no solace …

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Lengths to getting better.

What a weekend! It was filled with errands, sleep, and taking my god-daughters to a movie and shopping. We had assignments by our T. to complete and haven’t been as productive as we would have liked; nevertheless, we did do some journaling, which was part of our instruction. Another assignment was to let Tina, one of our members, make chocolate chip cookies. We came close, even got the ingredients together. That was as far as we made it with that. We left the ingredients out so Tina can make the cookies for tomorrow. We didn’t get a work out in …

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Empty words = pink hair

We’ve been working on the piece for our writing class at the university. this class is on how to teach writing to adolescents and high schoolers; however, we have to go through the writing process ourselves so we can empathize with the road blocks and issues our students will face when they produce text. The semester just started two weeks ago and already we are panicking. We get certain accommodations but we still have to do the work. The piece we had to produce this week is called “I remember”…not an easy piece for anyone with a dissociative disorder. We …

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